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.

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.

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.