Tag: cooking

Sailing to the East Coast 2: Dover, Sandwich and Ramsgate

Having reached Dover, and with a couple of days of bad weather approaching, I made for Sandwich. When I was planning this trip, I particularly wanted to visit because of the cruise up the creek. This particular river, the Stour, shares its name with my home town, Stourbridge, as well as a counterpart in Suffolk we were on our way to visit.

*Molly* and *Delphyn*, a Contessa leaving Dover

I left Dover with a Dutch Contessa yacht that I would meet again further down the line. We both followed port control instructions to leave via the busy eastern entrance to the harbour. With strong winds and a foul tide, I used engine and staysail to pass the famous white cliffs and along the shore of the low-lying land north of Deal.

The entrance to the river Stour was easy enough to find and the channel well buoyed. I had timed my arrival for an hour before high tide and this gave me plenty of time and depth to get into the river proper. The least depth I saw in the entrance was around 3m, though the main channel in the river was at least 4m.

I’m sure the channel buoy shouldn’t be like that!

I motored past argumentative terns with young, several large groups of seals and many species of wetland birds. The town of sandwich is about 2 miles inland, reached by nearly 5 miles of winding river. I passed two large boat yards and the huge Pfizer pharmaceutical complex, eventually arriving at the lovely town of Sandwich.

The town quay is lined with wooden posts, against which visitors lie, and gives easy access to the town. Sandwich is a very historic place with many buildings dating back to medieval, Norman or Saxon times. I enjoyed a lazy couple of wet and windy days here, exploring the narrow streets. I particularly enjoyed a visit the the small independent cinema, a family run enterprise.

Aptly named street name, given the weather!

The tides are odd here, with the water continuing to flow in for some time after high water, indicating Thanet is still an island, even though the river is much silted up. The friendly harbour master recommended leaving “when you can see the water has just stopped ebbing”. That’s only two and a half hours before high water. In the event, when I left, the water had started to flow in and to turn Molly around, I gently motored her bow into the reeds on the opposite bank and let the flow turn her. I was then able to motor away.

What sort of terns are these? Sandwich terns!

My next leg was a short hop down to Ramsgate to meet two other gaffers heading East from the Solent for the OGA party in Ipswich. The forecast was not looking good and we were waiting for a gap in the weather to make a break across the Thames estuary.

One of the boats, High Barbaree, I’d sailed aboard previously. She’s a Cornish Crabber Pilot Cutter 30, owned by Tim and Liz. The other was unfamiliar to me – a Tamarisk 24 called Puffin Bach. Skipper Brian appeared just at the right time as I entered harbour and took a line for me; I was also cordially greeted by Barbara from Delphyn, the Dutch Contessa that had left Dover at the same time as Molly and who were also waiting for a gap in the weather.

Meanwhile Huw arrived; he had come to sail the next leg with me,. The Solent Crew had a pleasant lunch aboard High Barbaree, during which I invited invited everyone for dinner aboard Molly.

Dinner (well, dessert at that stage) aboard *Molly*

A second very windy day was passed, followed by a very entertaining evening aboard Puffin Bach, with Brian at the Primus stove.

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 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…

Anchor angst and the Yealm

We were anchored off the beach at Cawsand. I’ve never been ashore at Cawsand, so the plan was to inflate the dinghy and explore the twin villages of Kingsand and Cawsand. Niki said “are you sure it’s safe for us to all go ashore?” Prophetic words. “It’ll be ok”, I judged.

There was a gentle onshore breeze and the three of us landed easily in the tender. The villages, separated by only a few yards, but which historically had been at loggerheads for many years, were indeed lovely, especially with the decorations up for the queen’s Platinum Jubilee.

Narrow streets with jubilee decorations in Kingsand

At several points we could see Molly from afar and observed that she was still in position. As we walked along the shore, Niki said “I’m sure she’s moved”. We quickened our pace. By the time we had regained the dinghy, it was clear that the wind had increased to about F4 and Molly was dragging.

The waves on the shore were not so easy to negotiate as our arrival and it was a much more strenuous row. We agreed that as soon as we reached Molly, I would go to the bow and Ben would start the engine, whilst niki remained in the dinghy. There were a scant few metres between Molly and the shore when the engine was engaged, but the anchor was soon recovered and the only casualty was poor Niki, who not only had a good soaking in the dinghy but cut her hand into the bargain.

Niki retired below to warm up under a blanket , whilst Ben and I motored across Plymouth Sound. It was slow going, dead into the wind and we also had to contend with crossing the track of a magnificent fleet of flying offshore racers heading for Galway and thence Shetland.

Eventually we reached our planned lunch stop and dropped the plough anchor for the last time in Cellar Bay at the mouth of the Yealm. By this time I had very much decided that my plan to eventually replace it should be brought forward to a status of immediate.

Lunch in Cellar Bay at the mouth of the Yealm

We enjoyed a pleasant lunch and siesta before hosting Dermot, our friend and fellow Crabber 26 owner, who lives nearby and sailed out to see us in his Drascombe Dabber. Sadly rain prompted him to return home but we elected to motor up the Yealm despite the steady rain. It’s a most beautiful spot, even in the downpour. We motored up to Noss Mayo, though we didn’t stop for a pint!

Our return to plymouth sound was another motor session, after we had motored into a strong wind all the way to the Yealm, there was no breeze at all for our return. After that plod, we were happy to arrive at Sutton Marina. We enjoyed a meal of Morroccan Lamb with butternut squash, which Niki had prepared earlier and cooked in our Thermal Cooker.

Motoring to Malpas

We passed a comfortable night aboard in Falmouth Yacht Haven, but the wind had been building during the night. Blowing a F5-6 from SE made for choppy conditions in the Carrick Roads and we did not feel ready to sail in that weather, because I was not confident of being able to set reefs properly. We decided to lay in some stores and find somewhere quiet up-river again. So it was Niki and I motored up the river and found a lovely sheltered spot just down from Malpas, which is as far as low tide reaches on the Truro river.

It is an idyllic spot, with the oak trees reaching to the water’s edge. This early in the season, the oak trees have yet to burst their buds, but there is little traffic and plenty of spots on the pontoon. Within the valley and protected by the trees, we were well sheltered from the wind and passed a relaxing afternoon and evening aboard, cooking a nice meal and listening to music. We were very pleased with the luxury of our facilities compared to Aurora, our trailer sailer – a comfortable saloon, oven, heating and hot water.