Tag: Cornish Crabber

Sailing to the East Coast 1: Eastbourne

Beachy Head lighthouse

Our much anticipated cruise to the East coast, to attend the OGA diamond anniversary party in Ipswich, began a few days early. A forecast for bad weather caused the demise of our planned cross-channel trip, but one good day allowed Niki and I to set off on the first leg of our cruise instead.

It was was a glorious morning to set off, sunny but no wind. We made good time with tide and engine; the wind filled in later and we were able to sail the last few hours of our passage.

After a spirited run past the iconic Beachy Head, we arrived at Sovereign Harbour after 62nm and averaging 5.5kt, about an hour sooner than I had expected!

Southsea Rally

It’s a pleasure to visit somewhere new and what better way than in company! I was very happy to join a rally in Langstone harbour with the Solent OGA group. Langstone is a place I had never previously visited, sandwiched between our home patch of Portsmouth harbour and the ever-popular Chichester harbour.

Tom Cunliffe describes Langstone as a piece of wilderness, between these two high developed and much manicured areas of water. Southsea harbour is accessed over a cill which open at about half tide. Since this window of opportunity was centred on mid-afternoon, Niki and I set off as soon as the sea breeze kicked in.

Rather than sailing the quickest route (only 5M), we reached out to sea past the forts and then tacked back inshore towards Langstone harbour mouth. The pilot warns of strong tides and that was exactly what we got – we swept in at about 6kt, but others who had arrived on full flood made more than 9kt over the ground!

The weekend was a pleasant mix of good food and enjoyable company, with an afternoon cruise on Saturday. We’d had blistering weather for the arrival day, but Saturday morning was grey and some rain, but as our flotilla passed out into the harbour for a cruise, the weather brightened up and the gentle breeze made for a very relaxed trip.

I was surprised by the scarcity of boats (or moorings) in the main part of the water (unlike Chichester) and it’s clear this is a great place to anchor. Our local guides agreed, but I got the impression they’d rather it remained off the list of popular anchorages!

Sunday morning was an early start and we crossed the cill at 7am before the falling tide confined all to the marina for the morning. There was no wind at all, so I motored along the 4m contour, close enough to the shore to watch the early morning swimmers, joggers and dog-walkers on the beach. I passed through the inshore small boat passage, past Southsea pier and back into Portsmouth, leaving us plenty of time to tidy the boat before returning home in plenty of time.

Tied up alongside Nancy Blackett, once owned by Arthur Ransome, bought from the proceeds of Swallows and Amazons and the model for the boat in his book We Didn’t Mean to Go to Sea
It’s not often I get an excuse to pass through this small boat passage very close inshore
Huw, the rally organiser, on his Norfolk Gypsy, Mincarlo
Exiting Southsea marina
Giving Molly’s hull a clean prior to the rally, ready for her summer voyages

Island harbour

Island Harbour marina

I joined the Cornish Crabber Club rally late in their week, due to work commitments. We have been enjoying a patch of glorious June weather and it was especially pleasant to make my way over to Cowes and up the Medina river.

I started with no wind and then it filled in to F4-5 by the time I got to Cowes. The Solent was very busy with several fleets of yachts out racing, including some very impressive classics visiting for the Richard Mille Cup. I also saw a pair of porpoises off Lee-on-Solent, a first for me.

Once through the bun fight that is Cowes, the Medina calms down considerably and it’s a very pleasant trip up the river through the moorings to Island Harbour. This is a converted tide mill with a lock and a very characteristic round concrete control tower. The staff are super helpful and I was soon tied up on one of their generously wide berths among the other Crabbers.

The fleet had representatives of every model – Crabber 22, 24 and 26, as well as Shrimper 19 and 21; the latter becoming an increasingly popular model. The evening meal was at the Folly Inn, a classic Isle of Wight waterside location, which was a pleasant 15 minute stroll from the marina.

Low tide at the Folly

The following day, there was not enough water to get out until 1pm, so we rallyists had a leisurely morning. I walked up the well-laid riverside path to Newtown. A pleasant mile through woodlands, past the fields where the cleanup was taking place following the recent Isle of Wight festival.

The head of the Medina’s navigation at Newtown

Everyone wanted to get out as soon as water was available, to catch the last of the flood up to Gosport for our evening meal. The ever helpful marina staff had us neatly packed like sardines in the lock and out onto the river.

Once again, the Solent was thick with traffic and it was a dead run past Gilkicker and into the harbour, with most of the fleet berthing at Haslar and a few, like me, who returned to home berths before a final meal together at The Creek.

Paddle steamer Ryde gently subsiding into the saltings. She served as a ferry across the Solent at the beginning of the twentieth century and a minesweeper in the war, finishing up as a night club in the sixties and seventies.
Sardines in a tin
Sailing past Jolie Brise. I was lucky enough to have a sail on her recently and made a video of of that.
The busy Solent. You can clearly see three fleets of racing yachts
Blade Runner returning to the factory (almost opposite Island Harbour marina) on the Medina to collect more wind turbine blades
Big and small – a Laser dinghy and the IoW ferry off Lee-on-Solent
Three Crabbers rounding Gilkicker Point

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.

Peaceful mooring in the Bosham channel

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.

Bosham Quay

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.

Cobnor Point

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.

Short stay pontoon at Emsworth

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.

Under reefed sail in Chichester harbour

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
Sail training ship Tenacious
I like this hull colour for a Shrimper
“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.

Molly at anchor in Newtown Creek

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
A Winkle Brig in Osborne Bay
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.
Portsmouth in sight
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

Yarmouth gaffers

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.

Drinks aboard High Barbaree

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.

Iconic view of needles

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.

Dinner aboard

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.

Fisherman at work near our anchorage
At anchor

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
Portsmouth again
YOGAF 2023

YOGAF 2023

The Yarmouth OGA Festival is my favourite weekend in the Solent Gaffers calendar. It attracts gaffers large and small, old and new and it’s great to chat to so many other owners. This friendly event has a great social scene but the highlight event is the Saturday race. Here are some photos from the harbour and the race.

Thanks to Sue Pennison and the Solent OGA committee for organising, to Tim and Liz Dodwell for taking me out on High Barbaree and to all the other sailors who make this such an enjoyable event.

Moored up together
Lots of colour
Rowing trip up the Yar
Crabber 26 Lowenna

So, what’s a Gaffel race?

At the annual Whitsun gathering of the Solent Gaffers a race format has taken root that is rather different to the familiar “pursuit” or “handicap” formats. A Gaffel race is a format borrowed from the Dutch gaffers and consists of a course in which the skippers choose from a range of different legs. It’s a subtly tactical situation, because one must take account of tide, wind and the peculiarities of one’s own boat. All the competitors start at the same time and must finish by a specific time (or earlier); those crossing the finishing line late suffer a penalty. Each leg has an “official” distance and can be sailed no more than twice. The winner is the skipper with the fastest average speed, taking into account the boat’s handicap.

Today’s race at YoGaff 2023 in Yarmouth, Isle of Wight attracted a range of boats from small trailer sailers to heavy displacement gaffers and took place in a good breeze of wind, but any skipper that failed to account the famously strong tides in the Western Solent was punished mercilessly. Whether front runner or retiree, all had a lovely afternoon and a story or too to tell at the post race barbecue. Thanks to the Solent Gaffers for organising this wonderful regatta and Royal Solent Yacht Club for running the race.

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.

Jo and Nick at the helm
The author admiring the view

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.

Goose-winged at West Pole
Wind turbine blade carrier

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.

Plenty of space at Bembridge

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.

Molly’s new berth
Trev at the helm

Stepping the mast

Mollys mast in the workshop

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.

Doesn’t look like February

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.

The “knitting”

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!

Lowering the mast into position

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.

Sunset reflected on the mud

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.