Tag: anchorage

West Country Meanderings

This season we have managed several rallies and a long trip in the Summer. It kicked off at the end of July when Niki and I set off, accompanied with Brian of Puffin Bach, to deliver Molly to Falmouth.

I had decided that I wanted to push my envelope a bit and cross the channel again, but this time to Alderney and then make a 24-hour passage to Falmouth.

We had an easy crossing from Gosport with an 0300 start delivering us to Braye harbour at 1930. I had planned 3 nights in Braye so we would have two clear days on the island and some good sleep before the long leg to Falmouth.

We managed the former but not the latter! This summer has been dominated by Easterly winds and this is not a sheltered direction for Braye. The consequence was some of the most rolly nights afloat I’ve spent. Still, the time ashore was most interesting. Braye itself offers little apart from the harbour but there is much to see on this small island.

On the first day, we enjoyed a walk up to the pretty main town of St Anne’s, culminating in beer and local seafood in the sun. On the second day, we hired bikes and looped around the island. The castle at Longis and the lighthouse were particularly interesting, as was watching the massive tides pour through The Race.

After our third rather restless night, we departed for Falmouth. The first section was wonderful with Molly sailing beautifully past a (suitably distanced) view of the Casquets rocks and lighthouse. To the north of us were the busy shipping lanes and I had been advised to use the Separation Scheme to cross. As we approached, I felt like a mouse trying to run across a motorway, such was the speed and density of traffic. In a CSS, vessels must cross at right angles and this was impossible for us at our modest 5kt.

Watching the other yachts, several were making for the area just outside the CSS, and I realised this meant that the traffic was following a predictable track but we were not obliged to maintain a course at right angles to the shipping. This allowed us to turn and run parallel with the ships until we could turn and dash behind their stern, ahead of the next monster.

Having cleared the shipping lanes, there was far less traffic and the wind was on our nose. At dusk I put the main down and we motored on in the dark. This part was mostly rather dull, as there was nothing to see in the dark. The only excitement was an encounter with a fishing vessel which was behaving as if he could not see us and seemed to be permanently heading us off with his course changes.

After 25 hours we steamed gratefully into Falmouth and berthed at Falmouth Yacht Haven. Russell, our friend and skipper of Cornish Yawl Lucy, asked if we were in trouble, as our AIS had us at 16kt some miles off Salcombe. It was then we realised that our AIS was not transmitting properly and explained the erratic behaviour of the fishing boat! I was able to quickly rectify this when I discovered the antenna connection to the unit had worked loose.

We then left Molly on a swinging mooring in the harbour, so we could travel back to the Midlands to attend the excellent Cropredy music festival, where we bumped into some fellow Solent Gaffers. This detour was facilitated by our friend Ben who lives in Falmouth and was attending the festival with us.

On our return to Falmouth, we had some memorable days in the area, anchoring and swimming anchored at lighthouse beach and a wonderful overnight anchor at Turnaware Point.

We then began a slow meander East. The first port of call was a lunch stop at Mevagissey followed by a night at Fowey. From there we moved up to Plymouth with another swim/ice cream at Cawsand before a couple of nights in Sutton Marina.

This gave us a day in Plymouth sightseeing, including a Rolls Royce in the lido (a tribute to Keith Moon, apparently) and the fireworks championships viewed from our pontoon. We were welcomed into the marina by a fellow gaffer, Chris, owner of a a lovely Oysterman 22 .

There were very strong easterlies forecast for the next couple of days and rather than hole up in the eye wateringly expensive marina, we decided to explore the local rivers.

Passing up the lovely Tamar under the impressive bridges at Saltash and past the Lynher and Tavy, we made our way almost 10 miles inland to Calstock, once a centre of industrial activity. The river was an important route for exporting metals and stone in the 19th Century, which dwindled away at the beginning of the 20th with the coming of the railway, illustrated by the impressive viaduct over the river.

We found a vibrant village with traditional music and busy pubs. We also took a trip in the tender a couple of miles upstream to Morwellham Quay.

After two nights, we dropped down the Tamar, through Plymouth sound and into the Yealm. Conditions were very blustery and just as we passed the breakwater, there was a thunder and lightning accompanied by a squall which flipped our dinghy. Nonetheless we arrived in Noss Mayo unharmed and spent two more nights in its shelter, enjoying some lovely walks through Newton Ferrers and a loop along the coast walk.

Our next stop was Salcombe, and we were rejoined by Ben. Salcombe was buzzing and we enjoyed a few beers at the Victoria Inn before returning to Molly for dinner aboard.

The following day, the three of us set off for Dartmouth but passed straight through the town, heading for Totnes. We wound our way up the lovely Dart arriving at Baltic Wharf just at high tide. We enjoyed excellent beer and a meal at the Old Albert Inn (my favourite was RealAletivity – the pub is named after Einstein rather than Victoria’s consort).

We were awoken early next morning to be told we had moored in the wrong place, but were planning to leave on the high tide in any case. We dropped downriver to a pleasant anchorage to enjoy the sun before finding a berth in Dartmouth for the night. The town was very busy, as the annual regatta week was warming up and we had an excellent seafood meal at Rockfish. The following morning, Ben had to return home and, after early provisioning but an agonising wait for our turn on the water pontoon, we departed.

We had missed the tide, but it mattered little because the tide was not strong and there was virtually no wind so we made easy progress across Torbay, anchoring for a swim in the shelter of Anstey’s Cove whilst we waited for the tide to rise.

In the late afternoon, we made a very interesting entrance to Teignmouth. There is a very strong flow into the river mouth between the channel markers and then a hard-to-starboard ferry glide across the current to the part of the channel that loops through the town. Teignmouth is a busy town with a working commercial port and the kiss-me-quick seafront. We turned up just as a music festival was starting and it turned out the visitor berths were very close to the stage on the beach – we were just the right distance to enjoy the music. Whilst we were there, we took a tender trip across to pretty Shaldon on the opposite side of the estuary and which was having its regatta, so we were treated front row seats as the dinghies and rowing gigs raced past.

Feeling we had had full value from the bank holiday weekend, we spent a hot day anchored in Anstey’s cove again. With the weather finally due to swing round to the south west, we would be ready to leave the West Country early the next morning by rounding Portland Bill back into what we think of as “home waters”.

Bank holiday ramble

A busy bank holiday at Portsmouth harbour entrance

Looking for a relaxing way to enjoy some slightly mixed bank holiday weather, we arranged to meet Puffin Bach and her skipper Brian (with whom we cruised to Suffolk last summer) at The Folly Inn on the Medina. We had a very pleasant downwind sail from Portsmouth to Cowes and motored up the river to arrive not long after Puffin and were directed to raft alongside on the mid-stream pontoon.

Molly and Puffin rafted at The Folly Inn

Having enjoyed a sunny afternoon with a few drinks in the cockpit, we elected to have some exercise. The water taxi took us ashore and we followed the riverside footpath past Island Harbour into the island’s county town for a curry at Tamarind.

We had decided to visit our friends Grant and Amanda whose boat Meagan is moored on the Beaulieu river. This was both upwind and uptide, so Molly and Puffin motored across from Cowes and then up the beautiful river. We both easily found visitor moorings and Grant graciously picked us up in his tender. We spent a lovely afternoon chatting in the sun and enjoying the fizz we intended to drink during the OGA60 rally last summer, but which was rather precluded by the deluge during the parade of sail.

Brian joined niki and I aboard Molly for supper, after which I rowed Brian back to Puffin. The river is such a peaceful place to spend the night and I enjoyed the range of woodland and coastal bird calls to greet us on the following morning.

Just after low water we dropped the mooring and trickled down a peaceful river to its mouth and then back out into the Solent. The fair tide and and gentle breeze carried us back to Portsmouth and our home berth.

Contessa 32 rally fleet at Buckler’s Hard

Fellow Cornish Crabber 26 going great guns off Cowes

Hibernation time

Having been afloat for eighteen months, it was time for Molly to be hauled out. To protect the mast from the elements and enable maintenance of the wood and rigging, I dropped the mast. This is quite a straightforward process and uses elements of the existing rigging.

Having removed the sails, boom and gaff, I attached the mainsheet between the end of the bowsprit and the jib halyard. I rigged the bowsprit just forward of vertical and led the tail of the main sheet back to a winch. This gives a lot of purchase, and little force is required to ease the mast to horizontal. I made a wooden A-frame to support the mast at the stern and the mast dropped easily onto this. The rigged mast is heavy though, and it took three of us to ease the mast forward, so that the foot is near the bow, which reduces the overhang at the stern.

The haul out at our club is a meticulously organised process and Molly was tucked in among the other boats – you can see from the photos why it is not possible to raise or lower the mast once she is parked!

OGA East Coast Cruise part 1

The first section of Molly’s meander home would be with the OGA East Coast cruise, which had been arranged in part for the benefit of us visitors from further south. The object was to cross the Thames estuary and visit the Medway, after which we were to part ways.

The first day of the cruise was a passage race to the Walton Backwaters. Niki helmed in the light but gusty wind, picking our way out of the Orwell, past Felixstowe docks and across the shallow bay, to the entrance of “Secret Waters”. There was plenty of room in the Walton Channel for the fleet to anchor and the crews gathered on the beach at Stone Point.

Looking back to Felixstowe docks as we leave the Orwell

In stark contrast to the weather of the last few days, it was a beautiful golden evening. We had brought barbecue packs prepared by the cafe at Suffolk Marina, as well as bottles of the celebratory “Old Gaffer” beer and we all had stories to share; I was particularly interested to chat to those who had participated in the Round Britain Challenge. Several of these were local and had in effect finished, whereas others still had some way until completion – the furthest being Helford River in Cornwall.

The shore at Stone Point is sandy and ideal for coming ashore, but progressively becomes mud up the channel. Brian noticed that Puffin Bach had been anchored ambitiously shallow and was now aground. He was concerned that if he didn’t make a dash for it, there might not be enough water to even get the tender to it, so he made a swift exit. I helped him carry his dinghy down to the water’s edge, but unfortunately we had not noticed that everyone carried their dinghy to the sandy point to launch and we were soon squelching in the mud. When Brian had been successfully launched, I realised that my feet were firmly held by the mud and I promptly fell over in the black sticky ooze, much to the amusement of the rest of the fleet! The evidence of that slip would take several days to remove from clothes and boat…

The following day was a passage race to West Mersea, down “The Wallet”. Conditions were brisk and we set out on first reef, making excellent progress. The wind continued to build and as we beat into the mouth of the Blackwater conditions became rather challenging, so in the end we abandoned racing and used the engine to maintain boat speed and enable us to point higher.

Daisy Belle with Gunfleet wind turbines behind

A number of the fleet found conditions too challenging, turning and running downwind to shelter. Those of us that made it to Mersea were given moorings at West Mersea Yacht Club and ferried ashore for a well-earned chilli ashore.

The next day had been planned as sailing in the Blackwater, returning to the moorings in the evening. However a decision was taken to grab a weather window of fair winds to cross the Thames estuary and enter the Medway. Unfortunately, Niki was not able to join me on this leg, so I made the journey solo.

I dropped Niki at the yacht club pontoon and took the opportunity to pack the tender up into the locker. Motor-sailing into the Blackwater, although the wind was pretty non-existent, the ebbing tide carried me out.

Molly’s rigging was covered in strands of spider silk the night we moored at West Mersea

Looking at a chart of the Thames Estuary, it is littered with obstructions and marks but the experience of being out on it is, of course just a wide expanse of water. I made my way some seven miles out, to take the Wallet Spitway between Buxey and Gunfleet sands.

By this time, the wind was beginning to fill in and I was at last able to switch off the engine. It was a peaceful sail in full sunshine – the sort of summer day which has been in short supply this year. As I progressed passed Foulness Sand, with explosions very much visible and audible from the MoD test centre, the wind continued to fill and it became a beautiful reach. By this time, I had caught up with the fleet (they had not used engine early on), which made a lovely sight spread across water.

Daisy Belle passing a Thames Barge, both in full sail

I turned towards our destination down Middle Deep and it was a leisurely beat, but the tide had begun to turn in my favour. The final hurdle was to cross the Thames’ main shipping channel. I was fortunate that there was little traffic as I crossed, bringing us to the Medway river entrance. The wide commercial harbour was devoid of traffic, so there was plenty of space to drop sails before entering our mooring at Queenborough.

Queenborough is on the river Swale, so this was my seventh river of the trip (and I hope to add at least one more before reaching home again). We all rafted onto just two large mooring buoys and made an impressive sight in the afternoon sun. There was time for leisurely drinks and nibbles aboard Daisy Belle and Windbreker; we then cooked our evening meal aboard, before ferrying ashore in tenders, to the pub.

Continues in part 2…

Look behind you! *Plum* was not so lucky with the traffic, crossing Princes channel

Molly approaching the Medway (thanks to Colin of Plum for the photo)

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

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.

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

Chichester expedition

This was Alice’s first sailing trip since we took over Molly, and she was very pleasantly surprised with the accommodation; as it was just me and her, I gave her the forepeak, much to her satisfaction. The weather was ideal, with warm sun and a nice SW sailing breeze. We had a leisurely start and enjoyed the hustle and bustle of Portsmouth harbour as we followed the steady stream of boats leaving harbour on the falling tide.

Once we were clear of the Isle of Wight ferry and hovercraft tracks, we turned to port and made for the boat passage through the old submarine barrier that stretches south from the shore near Southsea pier out to Horse Sand Fort a mile and a half offshore. From there, it was a spirited run east, past Winner sand at the entrance to Langstone Harbour and on to Chichester. In no time at all, we reached West Pole, marking the southerly extreme of the channel into Chichester harbour, and gybed round to reach up the channel. On previous occasions when I’ve followed this track, I have been in Aurora (our previous boat, a cape cutter 19) and not worried about depth. This time, though on a neap tide, it was nearly low water, and I paid close attention to the depth as we crossed the bar. With the sea flat, there was plenty of water and we soon slipped past Hayling Island sailing club and turned to starboard towards the popular anchorage at East Head. As expected on a sunny Weekend afternoon, the spot was thick with boats at anchor, among which weaved a multitude of sailing dinghies.

With plate up, Alice motored us into the wind towards the sandy beach, but unfortunately, I underestimated our speed and Molly touched the bottom. I quickly dropped the anchor and ran astern to see if we could motor off, but Alice had already tried this and Molly was firmly aground, so I returned to the bow and heaved on the warp to keep the bow pointing into the F4 breeze. We were secure and I knew the tide was already rising, so there was nothing for it but to have some lunch! With a little more water, I checked the anchor had set and then increased the scope to ensure good holding. I suggested moving up the Thorney Channel to get a little more shelter behind Pilsey Island, but Alice preferred the existing location.

We passed a relaxing afternoon and later made a paella(ish) from ingredients we had bought in Gosport. I say “ish” because the low-cost, German-owned supermarket with a four letter name famously is always short of an ingredient or two, in this case risotto rice and saffron. Nevertheless, we had tasty rice and fish with sugar snap peas, all from the thermal cooker.

I expected the wind to ease off at nightfall, but it maintained steady 15-20kts all night. This made for a less peaceful night than I had hoped, but further increased my confidence in Spock, our (relatively new) Vulcan anchor. By my reckoning, Spock needs to provide 13 nights at anchor to pay for himself; this was night three.

We awoke to another fine morning with a steady SSW breeze. It was due to veer towards SW, so I was keen to set off and avoid beating if possible. We left in good time, but not before Alice had a refreshing swim.

It was a tad bumpy at the entrance to Chichester, but the sea was quite smooth once we reached deeper water south of west pole. The wind direction was perfect for fetch back across to Portsmouth. Most of the boats in the procession leaving Chichester turned off before this and followed a track closer to the shore, heading for the small boat passage we used yesterday. I had decided that instead we would enjoy the sail and take a longer track to pass outside the Horse Sand Fort.

We had a marvellous sail with both jibs and single-reefed main, with Molly cutting confidently through the small waves. We were making 6kt for much of the time and I was expecting an increase in speed when we bore away onto a reach after the fort, but the wind was noticeably lighter in the shelter of the Island.

Alice helmed for most of the sailing and took Molly into the harbour, as I put out the warps and fenders. We made a very efficient return to harbour, dropping main as we turned off the channel towards the club. However, with the water very low, I could not turn Molly to reverse up the fairway to our berth and ended up going in forwards. This means our next adventure begins by going astern…

Into The Solent

Wednesday dawned bright and fair. Ben and I had a leisurely breakfast whilst admiring our beautiful anchorage. The anchor alarm showed that we had held firm through the night, which increased my confidence in the holding ability Mr. Spock, our Vulcan anchor, as we had had strong gusts during the night. I wanted to fly my drone, but sadly the anchorage fell within the scope of Lulworth firing range, which prevented takeoff.

Today was expected to be a “no wind” day, but there was a lovely southerly sailing breeze as we lifted anchor and continued our voyage east. With a fair tide under us we passed off St Albans head, turning to follow the coast past Peveril Point, Swanage and finally Old Harry Rocks. The water was very busy with all kinds of pleasure craft, from canoes and small dinghies to large yachts and motor boats, everyone enjoying the sun and sea breeze.

At this point, the tide had turned against us, so we angled into Bournemouth Bay to minimise to its adverse effect. There were obvious overfalls at Hengistbury Head, where the ebbing tide was pouring off the shallow water of Christchurch Bay, over a ledge into the deeper water of Bournemouth Bay.

We had time to kill before the tide changed once more and we could enter the Solent. Our hope was to poke our nose into Christchurch h harbour, but it looked like we would be trapped by the falling tide if we had done so. As an alternative, we sailed into the lee of Hengistbury Head and anchored for an hour or so.

The was not a very comfortable experience initially because I had not allowed for the tide. The anchor bit immediately but Molly did not rest head to wind into the waves, but lay almost broadside due to the flow of the tide. I could not believe that just over 0.5kt of tide could beat 15kt of breeze, but the evidence was clear: as the foul tide eased, Molly turned head to wind.

By the time we lifted the anchor, the breeze was a steady F4 SW and we made excellent progress across the bay, keeping fairly close in and shaping our course for North Head buoy. This marked the beginning of our track into the Solent close round Hurst Point. I wanted to show Ben the full effect of Solent tides, he being unused to strong tides in his home waters of Falmouth, but the wind dropped once we were in the shelter of land on both sides and also shifted to dead downwind.

We shook out the reef we had been carrying and moving quickly, despite sailing slowly, soon made Newtown Creek. I had particularly wanted to show Ben this marvellous anchorage; we had a clue how crowded the anchorage would be by the number of boats anchored outside sheltering under the low headland. Crowded through it was, we did not have much trouble finding a place to anchor. Little scope is needed in this shallow water; in fact we had to raise the centreplate within the anchorage.

As the sun set, the wind faded and we were treated to a most beautiful sunset and rise of the young crescent moon, to the soundtrack of the calls of oystercatchers, geese and terns.

I was very glad of the oven and had put our tinned pies in as we approached the entrance to the creek, so by the time the tinned vegetables were warmed we had a welcome hot dinner.

We had had an amazing passage, covering almost 40 miles and only using the engine for an hour in total – not bad for a “no wind” day!