Category: Trips

Solent Potter

With warm sunny weather but strong winds forecast, Niki and I decided to enjoy a few lazy days aboard and visit some of our favourite anchorages. Our first stop was in Chichester harbour.

We beat up from Gosport against a lively North Easterly. We had some trouble tacking against the wind and noticed that we did much better on one tack than the other – it was then Niki realised that one of the shrouds had worked loose. I recalled that when I had re-stepped the mast, I had not had time to properly adjust the rig tension and so had not secured the turnbuckles!

There are several popular encourages in Chichester, which offer great protection from the prevailing south westerly wind direction, but there are fewer options when that direction is reversed. East Head looked far from pleasant and conditions at our customary spot under Pilsea Island were not to our liking either.

The chart indicates that there is anchorage in the Bosham channel, so we poked our nose up there. However this was no good for dropping the pin either, as the moorings extend the whole way down the channel. At this point, we admitted defeat and picked up a mooring.

The harbour master arrived later in the evening to collect the dues and pointed out that the mooring we had picked up was not for visitors, but told us we could stay out as the resident was away. I was glad of this, as this location was much more sheltered than the visitor moorings near the main Itchenor channel.

We passed a comfortable evening aboard, cooking a delicious steak dinner and slept soundly, after carefully securing halyards to prevent rattling in the strong wind. In the morning I spend some time checking all the shrouds and adjusting them to equal tension and then securing the turnbuckles – a job I should not have left home without doing.

We had decided to stay on for another day, as the strong wind remained steadily in the eastern quadrant. After a leisurely morning, we rowed ashore for a walk. I had noticed that there is a footpath which follows the whole peninsula of Chidham. Niki got rather muddy disembarking the dinghy, but we found a tap at the nearby sailing club and she was able to wash her legs.

We were rewarded with a spectacular walk with salt marsh and fields to one side and Bosham Creek on the other. We had beautiful views of the very picturesque Bosham Quay and then turned inland to follow the footpath through lovely farmland to the village of Chidham and its most welcome pub, “The Old House at Home”. This is quite an unusual name and I had thought it a Black Country term, as that is the only other time I had heard it. According to Google, the name comes from the words of an early Victorian song popular with soldiers far from home.

A welcome pint of excellent beer at the halfway point of our walk

The circumnavigation was completed with a walk along the more open western perimeter of Chidham and the last part along a footpath on the flinty foreshore itself, complete with stern warnings about the dangers of the tide. We passed around Cobnor Point to the welcome sight of Molly on her mooring.

Having spotted a slipway at the sailing club, I saved Niki more mud and rowed the tender from its muddy landing place to collect her and return aboard. We were a little low on provisions but wanted to spend another night at anchor and decided on Newtown Creek, after some food shopping in Emsworth, for the following day.

We were started awake just after first light by a call of “you’re on my mooring, please move”. I stumbled groggily into the cockpit to find a bright yellow Dragonfly with its solo skipper circling us a little impatiently. It was the work of moments to start the engine and cast off mooring, whilst Niki charmed him with her explanation that we had been given permission.

We thought of setting off then and there, but that was before we looked at our watches and discovered it was but 5am! A (visitor) mooring was picked up and we returned to bed for some more sleep.

At a rather more civilised hour, we cast off the mooring and sailed into the Emsworth channel, where there is a short stay pontoon. The pontoon was thick with small children and their parents, who seemed oblivious to our shouts but nevertheless moved reluctantly out of our way as we arrived. A prominent sign prohibited crabbing, but was completely ignored; we took this prohibition not to apply to Molly either! Though it was around high tide, there was just 2m of water so, not knowing how long the shopping sortie would take, I stayed aboard Molly whilst Niki strode out.

I needn’t have worried and Niki was back in half an hour with all our vittals procured. We followed the now-ebbing tide down toward the harbour mouth and ran before the wind down the Solent. As usual, there was a wide variety of craft to occupy our attention. Sadly the wind dropped and our progress was slower than hoped and, as we passed Cowes, the tide turned against us. I took to the shallows to avoid the worst of the tide, but we arrived at Newtown Creek much later than planned.

A clipper aground on Ryde sand. There was little aid the Sea Start RIB could render

The shallow water extends a surprisingly long way off shore…

…but the hovercraft has no such trouble with the shallow water off Ryde

“Stealth gas”? I think not, on a ship that colour!

The ferries crossing outside Wootton Creek

I had hoped for another pub walk at Shalfleet, but we arrived too late for this. We crept along, plate up past the moorings in the Western Haven; a boat was already anchored in the shallow water of the upper reaches, but we squeezed in on the end.

I’d always struggled with getting our tender in and out of the locker, but during this trip discovered how much difference it makes to use the pump to draw out as much air as possible when deflating her. So I quickly had Aurelia out on the coach roof, inflated and in the water. Niki stayed aboard and I had some welcome exercise rowing through the moorings to the tumbledown quay at Shalfleet. In the golden hour, the deserted harbour was a lovely sight and I had a short but pleasant walk around the boats ashore. It did seem like a place boats come to die, but that seems true of many a boatyard. I did spot a more cheerful sight – our friend Julian’s Cape Cutter on her mooring.

Molly in the distance, viewed from ashore in Shalfleet

One of the most beautiful places to spend a night.

Our laying of the anchor had been less than perfect and I realised that we would be on the mud during the night and not be able to get out at the time we wanted, so we lifted the pin and moved to a mooring in deeper water later in the evening.

This was just as well, because when I rose at 0530 for our return passage, there was barely enough water for us to creep towards the mouth of the haven. The early start was called for, as it was a beat back to Gosport and I wanted a fair tide to help us.

Interesting rock formations on the eroding Isle of Wight shore

The lovely Lady Belle also beating up Solent

The wind seemed light and I raised full main, but it quickly became clear that we were overpowered and I had to stop and take in a reef. I beat across the width of the Solent arriving directly outside the mouth of the lovely Beaulieu river. I stood on as long as I could into the shallows before tacking off, hoping to avoid the need for another tack before Cowes. This was indeed how it turned out and in fact a wind shift helped us onto a course directly towards Gilkicker point. At that early hour there was little traffic and I only had the fast ferries out of Cowes to watch for. The wind gradually decreased during the morning and it was not long before I shook out the reef and carried on under full sail. A few tacks were needed to get around Gilkicker but we made surprisingly good time and were soon back on our home berth.

A French gaffer that passed us – I believe she was returning after a classic yacht event in Brixham.

I was quite pleased with this track. You can clearly see how long it took me to sort a reef shortly after we started, but remarkably few tacks were needed to get home. You can also see that Portsmouth is thick with AIS targets!

Poole but not Weymouth

Our plan after the Yarmouth regatta was to sail West to Poole, Weymouth and then hopefully Dartmouth. Niki joined me aboard, with Alice and her friend Lauren, hot-foot from their success at the regional volleyball finals. The wind had been in the East or NE for the past week and was forecast to stay that way for the coming week. The fresh or strong wind made for rapid passage westward, but with no letup forecast, did not bode well for the return journey.

We set off from Yarmouth with the ebb tide, under jib only. The sea state was smooth and we enjoyed a sunny ride past the needles. We could see the coastguard rescue helicopter hovering over Alum Bay and lowering a crew; we later learned that a man had been rescued from the beach having been missing overnight.

Coastguard helicopter dangling a rescuer from the winch

From there, we ran West with a clear view of the white rocks of Handfast Point, some 12nm distant. We were expecting to move on to Weymouth the next day, treating the girls (both of whom are studying geology at A-level) to a close up view of the Jurassic coast. Old Harry and Harry’s Wife were this intended as aperitifs for this experience, but they were nonetheless impressed.

We ran before the wind across the bay and then into Poole harbour. The wind was such that we had to pass around the north of Brownsea Island, to anchor in the shallows near Pottery pier. This gave us the afternoon, in which the girls swam and I made a veggie curry in the thermal cooker. During the dinner time discussion, we reached the conclusion that Weymouth was not a good idea and so determined to return to Gosport the following day.

I had not brought so much as a pack of cards, so we had several rounds of “animal, vegetable or mineral?”, much to Lauren’s bemusement.

The following morning, I had the teens inflating Aurelia for the short row ashore and a stroll on Brownsea Island. It was interesting to see the remains of the village and spot a few of the resident red squirrels.

After that, it was time to batten down the hatches and battle back upwind. I was hopi great we would be able to sail, but the wind was thoroughly “on the nose” and this was a longer leg than the girls had bargained for, so I motored. We made great time despite the head wind, with the tide under us and Andy the Autopilot steering an arrow-like course across Bournemouth Bay.

Sweeping into the Solent past Hurst Point

We passed into the Solent via the North Passage and the strong flood ushered us past Gilkicker in great time, arriving back at POG in time for a welcome visit meal at the Castle Tavern prior to the girls’ early bus back to the midlands.

Yacht Lady Belle as she beat up the Solent

Littlehampton

I was keen to visit Littlehampton by sail, having enjoyed a land based trip a couple of years back. It’s only accessible for a couple of hours either side of HW and is subject to phenomenal tidal flow, but is a good destination for us because leaving the Solent at low water gives us a fair tide around Selsey Bill and a high tide arrival.

To make a little more of the trip, Niki and I left for an afternoon sail to Chichester Harbour, ready for an early departure the following morning. We anchored at East Head, which was still quiet at this early point in the season. I did come to regret this slightly, though. East Head is a lovely anchorage, but is subject to the wash of passing traffic and gets rolly at high tide. I was too impatient to motor on to a better sheltered location, such as Pilsey Island. We had a lovely evening and retired to sleep. Sure enough, we were woken by an hour of rolling at high tide.

This did not disrupt sleep too much and just as the flood began, I got up quietly to lift the anchor and motor off, leaving Niki asleep. There was no wind forecast and I was expecting to motor all the way to Littlehampton, but a small zephyr encouraged me to open the foresails to help us across Chichester bar.

I love these early starts. I enjoy the peace and stillness and watching the light change as the sun breaks through. Today was a glorious morning- a hazy pre-dawn mist had formed, but quickly faded in the sun. The sea was sparkling and smooth.

The tide carried Molly swiftly towards Selsey and I needed only modest engine revs to maintain good speed. I was hoping to be able to sail after we had turned in the Looe Channel around the Bill, but it was not to be and what wind there was, was very much “on da nose”. I was able to bear off just enough to fill the jibs under engine and I convinced myself it added an extra half a knot to our speed.

The fair tide carried us right across the bay, past Bognor and we soon opened the mouth of the Arun that marks the entrance to Littlehampton. We arrived less than an hour before spring HW but even so, the incoming tide was running hard and there was a patch of standing waves in the mouth. However this was passed in seconds as we made over 6kt with the engine on tick-over through the entrance.

I knew we would be tying up on the starboard side, but I asked niki to rig warps and fenders to port. This allowed us to make a recce and choose our spot before spinning around and motoring into the tide onto our chosen berth.

Having checked in with the very friendly harbour commission staff, we took a walk around the town. It was interesting to see the evidence of the town’s nautical history and pleasing how historical details were preserved during redevelopment of parts of the waterfront. The range of restaurants was not especially inspiring, so we followed Tom Cunliffe’s advice and had fish and chips for tea.

The wind was due to swing round to the SE the following day, which sure enough it did, perfect for our return. Niki and I had a leisurely morning watching the comings and goings in the harbour. There is plenty of depth in the river at all states of tide, but the bar at the entrance dries at LW. The first sign that there is sufficient water is the departure of small motor boats, followed a while later by sailing boats. We wanted the ebb tide to carry us back into the Solent, so waited nearer to high water. We watched boats going out through the mouth and the water there was very turbulent, with significant cross-currents.

It turned out to look far more intimidating than it actually was when we motored out and we were soon clear of the bar. The wind direction gave us a fabulous reach to Selsey Bill and, combined with the spring tide, we were touching 9kts at times.

Rounding the Bill we slowed as we turned much deeper, and became dead downwind as I rolled in the fore sails and aimed Molly at Portsmouth. I love the gentle rolling motion and watching the waves slide under the boat.

Visibility was quite poor for the whole journey, increasing from less than half a mile when we set out to a mile or two later, so it was reassuring to have AIS; it’s a shame lobster pots don’t show up though!!

We slipped into our new berth after a blistering run and rounded the day off with a lovely curry in Gosport.

Newtown for lunch

Looking down the western Solent with Newtown on the left and Hurst Point light in the distance

The weather and tides collaborated to provide ideal conditions for a shake down trip down the Solent to one of my favourite spots. Phil and Jo, fellow members of the yacht club were keen to have a sail on Molly, so we set off down wind and down tide in the sun with a picnic lunch.

The sea was smooth, to the extent that we anchored outside the entrance to Newtown Creek to eat our sandwiches and wait for the tide to turn.

We completed the trip in a series of beats along the flood tide, with the westering golden sun, in the company of Golden Vanity, a 38ft Gaff Cutter, built in 1908 as a yacht for the maritime artist Arthur Briscoe.

Triangular mini-cruise

For the first proper sailing trip of the season, I was joined by my long-time diving buddy Trev. I did have trip to Emsworth in March but, without a mast, it wasn’t a sailing trip! However, the winds did suggest a return to Chichester harbour.

We drove down from the midlands amid bucketing rain and strong winds; it took faith in the forecast to believe we would be sailing the next day as we sat in the saloon hearing the rain hammering on the coach roof. Still, the steak and red wine helped take our minds off the weather.

In fact, the rain lasted longer than forecast and it was not until late morning we set off. To avoid sailing dead downwind, we shaped our course out past the Horse Sand Fort before gybing towards Chichester entrance. Conditions were lively there, with big rollers breaking on the sands to the West of the entrance. Once inside the harbour, the winds were still blustery but the water was flat and we made our way to Itchenor.

Breakers on the sand bank next to Chichester entrance

The plan was to pick up a visitor mooring and test the tender with a trip ashore for dinner at the Ship Inn. We had some trouble identifying the visitor moorings and eventually determined that they were all occupied by fishing boats. However there was no shortage of buoys to pick up – I’m used to the fairway thick with boats, but most seemed still ashore.

We found a good spot only a biscuit toss from the pontoon, pumped up the dinghy and went ashore. The Ship provided a pleasant welcome, nice beer and good food, after which we took a stroll round the village before returning to Molly.

The next morning we decided to hop across to Bembridge, as Trev had never visited “The Island” and, after wrestling the dinghy down into the locker, we set off. We were dead downwind leaving the harbour and Molly was goose-winged out to West Pole, whereupon we gybed onto a lovely reach across to the Isle of Wight. As we approached Bembridge, I could hear nothing on the radio and there was no answer at the marina. The website informed me I could book a berth online, but only by giving more than 24 hours notice. I worked all this our as Trevor guided Molly through the channel into the marina, so we made a somewhat precipitate approach to the nearest available berth and tied up. It was just as quiet at Bembridge as it had been at Itchenor and it made a lovely change to moor on the easier to access South side of the pontoon.

This gave us plenty of time for a lovely walk up to Seaview and along the beach before looping back along footpaths through the countryside, followed by a pleasant meal at the Vine Inn.

Our triangle was completed the following morning by our departure on the high tide and a short hop back to Gosport. This was my first run into Molly’s new berth, which involves a whole lot less manoeuvring in reverse.

Stepping the mast

The fully refurbished mast is ready for stepping! Sporting glossy new varnish, rot fixed and anchor light replaced, it looked absolutely lovely. I had decided that rather than having the mast delivered to the club, I would take Molly to the mast and have a winter weekend away. I had been watching the weather leading up to the proposed date and was delighted to be treated to calm and settled conditions, even sun!

So it was. I slipped the moorings in Gosport and motored out into the Solent, through the dolphin, past Langstone and made Chichester bar beacon in good time across a waveless sea and warm sun. The warmth turned out to be due to the lack of wind; I had been motoring downwind, so the apparent wind was almost nil – as soon as I turned up into Chichester, I noticed the bite even though the breeze was not strong.

Motoring out of Portsmouth. Andy “the arm” Autohelm was sporting a new rain cover freshly made by Niki. Not really needed on this occasion but very smart!

My destination was Emsworth marina, reached by a tidal channel and crossing a cill. Without the moorings to guide, the channel was harder to follow, but I soon slid into my assigned berth.

I then spent the rest of the afternoon dressing the mast ready for stepping the next day. This took quite some time – the “knitting” needed unravelling and laying out neatly and I wanted to make sure the job was done right, as it would be massively inconvenient to discover a mistake after the mast was raised.

I completed the task in good time, before taking an early evening walk into the town of Emsworth – very picturesque but not much to see in the dark. I made a mental note to come back in the summer with Niki. Returning to Molly, I was heartily glad of the heating system as the clear day gave way to a cold night.

The following morning, I was greeted by the yard manager who was ready first thing to step the mast, so I chugged over to the crane quay and the mast was very efficiently stood in its proper position. I then had the rest of the day to rig the sails and spars, a task which I completed just after high tide in the early afternoon, with only a few mistakes and “replays”. The task always takes longer than expected!

Emsworth is a lovely place. It’s very peaceful and there is a lot of wildlife around. I especially love the coots with their comedy party hooter calls. However, there is an ever present rumble of traffic from the nearby main road, which the brain quickly tunes out but is always evident whenever I shot a film clip. The water is also very active and it feels like being moored in a river when the water pours in or out over the two cills.

On the falling tide, water rushing over the cill. It created quite a strong current on my berth.

I made my farewell to the boatyard, and as I motored out, Nick the shipwright noticed that I had left my GoPro bolted to a post on the pontoon and grabbing it, dashed onto the last boat and handed it to me as I passed by. Phew!

Nick ready to hand me my camera back, as I passed

I had Chichester harbour almost to myself, with one or two motor boats and a lone racing dinghy being all I encountered in what is usually a very busy stretch of water. I made for my favoured anchorage at Pilsey Island near Itchenor.

Once securely anchored, I completed the final rigging task, that of bending on the main sail. I had envisioned sitting head to wind at anchor and therefore attaching the main sail would be a breeze. However, I had not taken the tide into account and Molly Sat broadside on to the wind, which made my task much more interesting! Nevertheless, I completed just as the sun made a spectacular sunset. This is always a marvellous place to spend the evening, but was particularly magical tonight as the wind stilled and the sky was filled with pastel colours with the sounds of the wading birds drifting across the waters. I retired to bed after a welcome hot chilli I had brought with, happy that Molly was complete again and ready for the new season.

Newtown night

Autumn weather is often volatile, but offers lovely opportunities if you pick your moment. This weekend was a case in point. With three days of sailing available, I wanted to travel a little further afield but the forecast showed that that would be a little unwise. Accordingly, our plan was to take advantage of the best weather day and make a shorter trip to the lovely anchorage at Newtown Creek, dodge the showers the following day to return to port and hunker down for the next day of wind and rain.

The busy hovercraft heading for Southsea

The coastguard helicopter lowers a wire to the inshore lifeboat.

Crew in the air! First lowered into the lifeboat and later recovered again back into the helicopter.

We had a bright and spirited sail down the Solent from Portsmouth. Having motored out of harbour and along the shore to Gilkicker, with a plan to sail along the northerly shipping lane from Spithead towards Bramble. However, with the SW breeze, the mainland shore of the Solent was pretty choppy. We had a good tide under us, so we put reefed main up and took our first tack across to the island shore. Sure enough, the sea was much smoother when we tacked off, passing close to Cowes. There were plenty of other yachts out, as you might expect on a sunny Saturday and almost no commercial traffic to avoid and the coastguard helicopter provided an interesting display. We needed only one more adverse tack to bring us outside the entrance to Newtown Creek and had averaged about 6kt.

I have anchored at Newtown Creek many times previously, but this was only Niki’s second time. Newtown Creek is where the confluence of several small rivers empty into the Solent. It offers shelter from every wind direction and is a haven for wildlife. Understandably, it’s a very popular anchorage, so best avoided at peak times but at this time in the season was not too busy. Most craft pick up a mooring near the entrance, but we decided to pass West, up past the dinghy sailing club at Hamstead and dropped our anchor just past where the moorings end. We had the birds and just one other yacht for company and passed a relaxing afternoon. The best of the day was behind us and we listened to the showers periodically rattling onto the cabin roof.

I’d brought ingredients to make a steak and kidney casserole, prepared in our thermal cooker and accompanied with a nice bottle or red wine. The creek is a very peaceful place and I always love to hear the water chuckling under the boat as the tide gently ebbs and flows, coupled here with the sound of the wind and the curlews. During the night, we had a few thunderstorms pass over and awoke to a rainy Sunday morning. Ideally, we’d have made an early start to use the flood to return to port, but I decided we’d wait till mid-morning when the rain was forecast to have passed.

Sailing back up the Solent towards Portsmouth, we had a light sailing breeze and a foul tide. We made good boat speed, but slow progress over the ground. At first, we tried very close inshore to the Island, but the reduction in wind was more than the reduction in tide, so we worked our way further out again. As we passed close inshore to Egpyt Point approaching Cowes, we could see walkers on the promenade moving faster than us, so we put the engine on so we could pass the busy harbour entrance quickly.

The wind backed during the morning and we ended up being headed over towards the Lee-on-Solent shore and needed to tack to pass around Gilkicker Point. Up to this point we had enjoyed bright sun and relished our leisurely sail up the Solent, but I could see the forecast bad weather approaching, so we motorsailed our beat up to the harbour entrance.

As we motored into harbour the black clouds overtook us and I hurriedly got the main down and bowsprit raised as we entered (I usually wait until we’re well inside the harbour); it was just as well, because we were battered by a squall of heavy rain and hail, as well as thunder and lightning – just as well that we are familiar with the harbour and were not put out by the 50m visibility. Fortunately, the bad weather was short-lived and we were soon, dripping wet, back on our berth.

More late season trips

A Crabber 26 (not Molly) dodging the ferries as she passes down the Solent

The transit posts for HMS Queen Elizabeth and Prince of Wales, which stand just outside the entrance to Portsmouth harbour

We’ve been fortunate to experience some really good late September weather and I’ve lately enjoyed two trips with extended family. The first trip was with my parents and the second with my father-in-law.

My dad is an experienced sailor, so my parents were keen to come and see Molly for themselves. Taking advantage of the UK’s unexpected bank holiday for the Queen’s funeral, Niki, myself and my parents set out on an almost windless but wonderfully sunny day. It was a great pleasure to show them our local patch. We put the sails up, despite the lack of wind, drifted on the tide towards the Island and put the anchor down in Priory Bay for some lunch. Later, the wind filled in a little and we blew the chance of getting home early in order to enjoy the breeze and sail a little.

The next trip, only a few days later with just myself and my father-in-law, Jeff, was an overnighter. A moderate northerly breeze and a mid-morning tide gave us the chance to sail over to Chichester, just as I had done with Niki the previous weekend, but this time staying in a marina.

Dog walkers on the beach at East Head – the West Pole mark visible in the distance

Pilot cutter *Verano* entering Chichester: a larger and more handsome sister ship to Molly

In complete contrast to the previous trip, it seemed as though we had the sea and Chichester harbour almost to ourselves and saw only a few others out sailing. We weaved our way into the harbour against the falling tide, past a practically empty East Head, passed through picturesque Itchenor and crept up the shallow straight channel to Chichester marina. I had wanted to visit Birdham Pool, but we were too late for the tide (on the list for another time!).

Chichester marina is nestled far up in the tidal reaches of the harbour and is accessed by a lock. I was told my 2.5m draught was too much for the marina, so I lifted the plate. However, this made manoeuvring rather tricky, especially astern, so I compromised on half-plate.

Jeff and I were soon ensconced on our berth and repaired to Chichester Yacht Club for a meal and few well-earned pints of beer.

Low tide outside Chichester YC, looking towards Birdham Pool

The following morning was breezy and we worked our way out against the last of the flood, though the fleets of boats on their moorings and the armadas of dinghies rallying for their Saturday racing.

A Solent Sunbeam racing in Chichester harbour

It was a reach through the harbour and a dead run out of the mouth. As it was high tide, we did not run all way out to West Pole but bore away west after we had passed the bar. I had a reef in, to make sure things were relaxed and Molly swept along beautifully with the ebb under her and the wind on her beam.

Jeff at the helm, before the loss of “Peaky”

As we passed Langstone entrance. Jeff lost his cap. I immediately decided to practice man overboard. I started the engine, threw off the sheets and we reversed course. We made it back to the hat, but the jib was flogging and I could not furl it. I took my eyes off the hat for only a moment and then sadly we could not find it again I went forward to sort out the tangled lines and got smacked in the face by a sheet for my troubles. Now we had lost a hat and my glasses were smashed!

I finally managed to furl the jib, sort out the lines and we resumed our course. A few important lessons learned. On the positive side, I was pleased to be able to start engine and reverse course accurately back to the casualty. However, I’m not sure how we would have recovered the hat – Jeff is not too nimble and has no sea experience. I hadn’t had time to grab a boat hook and I don’t think I’d have had time to fetch it before the hat sank. The hat disappeared from view quite quickly, but a human casualty would at least have a life jacket to keep them afloat. I have a sling available but getting a human casualty aboard would be a daunting prospect. The experience also showed the importance of at least one crew having the sole job of keeping eyes locked on the casualty. It would have been much less dramatic if I had been able to furl the foresails, probably it would have helped if I furled the jib whilst turning through the wind, but there is an enormous amount of friction on the jib furling line – I need to look at ways to improve this situation.

The track tells it all. I’m quite pleased with the two neat circles. You can also see the track when we motored head to wind as I got to grips with the jib

On the recommendation of a comment to my previous post, which mentioned passing through the boat channel off Southsea, Jeff and I made for the tiny gap of the small boat channel, which is much closer inshore.

“Steer towards the shore, aim at the shore end of the pier”, I told Jeff. “Are you sure it’s deep enough? – there’s only 5m here!”, he replied. In fact, as we approached the beach, the depth changed little, and we bore away to pass through the narrow gate, only a biscuit toss from the shore. Our course took us close by the end of the pier and along the shore to the head below Southsea Castle, where the shore turns north into Portsmouth harbour. We carried straight on though, so as to cross the shipping channel at right angles and have space to drop our sails.

It was an interesting passage – I always enjoy passing close to the shore and seeing the goings on, but there is little navigational benefit going that way and the wind was more fluky that close to the shore. I’ll save it to amuse guests on the boat in future.

A pair of rugs going out to sea, in this case to guide a warship into Portsmouth harbour

Chichester day

Having recently travelled down to the western Solent, I thought a trip in the opposite direction was called for. The tide and wind were good for a day trip, so we slipped our warps and took a left turn out of Portsmouth harbour. With the wind behind us and a fair tide under us, we passed through the small boat channel off Southsea and set a course directly for West Pole, outside Chichester harbour. There were plenty of others with the same idea and as we approached, we could see the entrance was also thick with dinghies – evidently a big race meeting was in progress.

A large fleet of Laser dinghies crossing the start line
outside Chichester harbour

A 20′ wooden sloop leaving Chichester harbour

Last time I went to Chichester harbour, I took the easy option and anchored at East Head, among the crowds. It hadn’t been a particularly comfortable spot, owing to the amount of passing traffic and someone had suggested a different spot. The inner harbour had surprisingly few anchored boats as we passed by East Head and turned north up the Thorney channel, into the lee of Pilsey Island and dropped anchor.

We had a very comfortable lunch stop before slinging our. hook just before high tide, to ride the ebb back to Portsmouth. The wind had backed a little towards the west and I thought we’d have to beat, but Molly was able to fetch directly back the way we came.

It was a gloriously sunny late summer afternoon and we arrived back at Portsmouth in a most beautiful golden glow, having had another very satisfying leg. No sooner were we secured on our berth, than we pottered down to the Castle tavern in Gosport for a well-earned meal to round off the day.

This mark, seemingly amid open sea, called *Dolphin*, marks the southern edge of a 50m wide passage through an underwater barrier which extends from the Southsea shore to the Horse Sand Fort

The Southsea hovercraft and two car ferries plying their way in the golden hour of a late summer afternoon

Yarmouth and back

As the season draws to an end, there was one more rally to attend. The gathering was in Yarmouth, which is always a lovely place to visit. There was to be an informal OGA gathering on the Friday night, followed by a race and formal dinner on Saturday, organised by Royal Solent YC. I couldn’t attend the Saturday events, as I needed to return to Gosport to pick Niki up, but I was treated to a magnificent sail down on Friday afternoon. The ebb was in full swing, so I had almost 2kt of fair tide. The unusual NW direction of the wind gave a fast point of sail on a single tack the whole way – a broad reach most of the time. This was my first long sail since I re-stepped the mast (more on that later) and I was hoping the heavy weatherhelm had been improved. I set out with 2 reefs in, as I was solo and wanted to check the reefing, but shook one of the reefs out as soon as I was out of the lee of Gilkicker point and could feel the breeze that would carry me to the other end of the Solent.

Molly didn’t dip below 8kt between Cowes and Yarmouth!

*Alva*, a 170ft 1939 Swedish luxury yacht, at anchor off Lee-on-Solent

As usual it there was plenty to see – not much commercial shipping, but pleasure craft of all sizes, including many interesting boats (see photos). The trip was completed in very quick time; Molly was making between eight and nine knots from Cowes to Yarmouth! She handled beautifully – the helm was almost completely neutral with single reefed main, staysail and jib, the weatherhelm only pulling in the bigger gusts.

*Marjorie*, a Shilling Yawl going great guns past Cowes

Colregs? Normally you don’t want to see a cargo ship from that angle, but fortunately this one is anchored!

Yarmouth pier in the evening, with flag at half mast for Queen Elizabeth, and the forest of sails at Lymington in the distance on the mainland.

A lovely evening on Molly with Maggie and Huw of Minarlo (nearest the camera) and Tom of Marjorie and myself.

Yarmouth harbour had not been able to put all the gaffers together, so we were a little dispersed. I ended up on a pontoon with Marjorie, who I had sailed alongside down the Solent, rafted to me. Nearby was Mincarlo, a Norfolk Gypsy, whose Maggie and Huw we’d met several times at events this season. We enjoyed some excellent fish and chips from the Blue Crab (highly recommended- they have a booking system so you can be sure it’s been cooked to order!

The following day was much lighter, but still a NW breeze. I had to leave at midday, in order to catch the flood tide and was expecting to motor for at least some of the way, but ended up sailing the whole time in the sun, varying between a relaxed amble and a brisk trot. All in all, quite a treat!