Tag: marina

From Canal to Channel

I left Nieuwpoort before light and experienced that sailor’s privilege, to see the sun rise out of the sea. I made my way close inshore against the last of the eastgoing tide. There was no wind and I abandoned attempts to sail.

Anchored ships near the shipping lanes. From a distance, hard to discriminate from the fast moving ships in the separation zone

The sea was glassy smooth and the day grew very hot. Visibility was not good and a haze hung across the horizon, making it difficult to judge distance. I was monitoring VHF channels 16 and 74 (channel VTS) and heard no less than three reports of large inflatable boats carrying migrants. This was the first day of calm weather after a period of strong winds, and evidently boats were setting out uptide on the French coast. A French navy vessel was patrolling and deployed its two fast RIBs to track the migrants along the edge of French waters. From the VHF traffic, it seemed that the migrants were picked up by a lifeboat and taken to Dover.

The MOB markers on the east of the chart were the reported locations of inflatables trying to cross the channel. The MOB marker to the west was a group of channel swimmers!

Approaching Dover harbour I was welcomed by a porpoise gliding past, as well as a seal inside the harbour. I paused to refuel before taking my berth, and this took some time. Although the fuel pumps had the mechanism for self service, a rather uncertain looking man leaned over the high quay and said that self service was not working. Only one pump was working, so I had a wait and once I had filled my tank, I had to visit the man in his shed. He was in charge of a most Byzantine computer system and after a few minutes of “hunt and peck”, suggested I might type it faster. All of this contrived to occupy an hour from entering the marina to tying up. Fortunately, I was not in a hurry.

The EU administration of border control had been accomplished by visiting the cheerful border policeman in his office the previous evening. The UK side of things was achieved via an efficient looking web site. However, the information was far from clear. “We have sent you an email”. No, you didn’t. “You must ring yacht line as soon as you enter UK waters”. When I rang, the automated message told me no call was needed. “You must fly a Q flag until contacted by border control”. I’d be flying that still, if I’d followed that instruction!

The next morning was forecast for northeasterlies, increasing in strength and swinging to SW. I left early, but not early enough. The promised SE wind was light and variable and not long before Dungeness head, I noticed a yacht ahead of me on a parallel course bear away to the south, close hauled. Sure enough, a few minutes later, I experienced the same 90-degree wind shift. I decided to drop sails and motor into the wind, the other boat beat on. I took an offshore route past Dungeness, to maximise the tidal lift but progress gradually slowed across Rye bay. The wind increased to about F6 and though Molly bravely plugged into the short steep seas this created, her speed was rather curtailed. I watched as the boat I had seen earlier crossed and recrossed my path, evidently with much better boat speed than me.

The day started well enough – a three sail reach (I had second reef in anticipation of the forecasted winds)

The new Royal Sovereign light under construction (the stump of it to the right)

Late, I crept up to Beachy Head on a foul tide, slower and slower until the speed over the ground was less than two knots. He who fights and runs away lives to fight another day, so I reluctantly turned tail and sped downwind into Eastbourne at seven knots!

Beachy Head in more benign conditions the next day

The “Seven Sisters”, west of Beachy Head. There always seems to me to be eight, but it depends on how you count them. These are often shown when a stock shot of “the white cliffs of Dover” is needed for a film or TV programme. They’re white and cliffs, it not Dover!

The next day was much calmer, with wind in the north. However it was too light to be useful, so I motored across Sussex Bay past the Rampion wind farm.

I was earlier than planned at Selsey and the current was still foul. However, it was neap tides and the sea was very flat. I therefore decided to avoid as much of the tide as possible by approaching from somewhat south of the Looe Channel and then motoring over the Outer Owers.

This is an outlying reef usually carefully avoided, but this very shallow water (4-12m observed) carried perceptibly less current. The breeze woke up at that point too, so I got a little help from the sails just when it was most helpful!

The Looe channel. For me this is the boundary of the Solent, so I was back in home waters

The beautiful Queen Mary 2 departing the Solent.

This cruise ship (My Resilient Lady) has a much higher capacity but is not exactly pleasing to the eye!

Sunset behind No Man’s Land fort, with spinnaker tower standing over Portsmouth harbour entrance

A great breeze from the north east filled in and gave me a lovely sail across the eastern Solent – what a fabulous way to end this wonderful adventure. I was enjoying the sail so much that I sailed right into the harbour, dropping the main right opposite HMS Queen Elizabeth. The police boat mooched over to give me marks out of ten, though I’m glad it was dark, because it was not a tidy fuel! I had breeze and tide pushing me into my berth, as well as being full dark by that time. I was pleased I managed that nicely but was pleased someone came by to help had I needed it.

So that’s the end of Molly’s Netherlands meander, and what a wonderful adventure it’s been. I’d like to publicly thank the wonderful Dutch organising team, Dirk and Linda Peeters for their guidance during the return leg and to my fellow UK OGA members who were such great company.

The season is mostly over, but Molly will stay in the water this winter because I hope to make a few local trips in the coming months.

The last lock

With the strong south westerlies from the remnant of storm Ernesto finally abating, it was time to leave the seclusion of the canal system and return to la mer.

As if to remind us of the comparative slowness of travelling in the shelter of inland waterways, the “blue wave” from Middelburg to Vlissingen was frustratingly slow. We then had a longer wait than expected at the sea lock.

We did however, have plenty of time for the fair tide, so once we were discharged from the lock, we emerged onto the busy Westerschelde, gathered like a clutch of ducklings before dashing through a gap in the shipping to the southern shore.

The strong tide carried us quickly around the corner and then helped us along the coast. The wind direction was good for a fetch the whole way. Nevertheless, I used the engine too to ensure that I reached Nieuwpoort in time to check out with the customs, allowing me to be able to make an early start the next day.

Fishing from the harbour arm at Nieuwpoort

The five crews rather tired crews of Molly, Indian Runner, East Breeze, Moon River and Plum met to eat a meal together, in celebration of Chris’ birthday and our last evening as a group. Following this, Plum and East Breeze were heading for the east coast, via Ramsgate, whereas the rest of us were to cross to Dover for points west.

Return to Middleburg

The weather was still pretty boisterous and also straight out of the SW, so we had a day of motoring into the wind from Oude Tonge, through the Krammer sluis and along the Oosterschelde. This was surprisingly rough water and we were stemming a tide too. The wind was too strong to sail, as well as being on the nose, so we motored towards Roompot, until we could turn away towards the Zandkreeksluis. Anemone and East Breeze took an alternative route around an island to Plum and Molly, but it made little difference to our arrival time. Having passed through that lock, it was time to finally bid farewell to Dirk and Linda on Anemone, who had sailed with us ever since the pre-rally rally from Wemeldinge. Good friendships made, I am sure they will be renewed at some point in the future.

Anemone making an impressive bow wave on the Oosterschelde swell

Plum against the impressive bridge across the Oosterschelde

Our destination was Veere, at the far end of the Veerse meer. This very pretty town had just enough space to accommodate our fleet of three against the pontoon. Another sailing club with excellent facilities and another companionable meal aboard Molly, prepared by Marion of East Breeze.

Veere’s ornate town hall viewed from the immaculate old streets

Grote Kirk. The angular structure at the top is the observatory. The beautiful golden galleon at the top is always sailing downwind!

In the morning, there was time to walk around the old town and enjoy an excellent slice of Apple Cake. Colin and I visited the Grote Kirk. This place was less a place of worship and more of an art and history museum. The city of Veere was historically significant in earlier centuries and the church had also suffered both heavy damage and re-purposing in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. The impressive 50m tall sixteenth century tower survives and we climbed the 240-odd steps to its onion shaped wooden observatory, which offered superb views away north to the sea, southwest down the Veerse meer and East over the farm land.

The impressive view from the top. Veere in the foreground, with the Veerse meer, Roompot and North Sea in the distance

It was in that direction we motored after lunch, to join Moon River and Indian Runner in Middelburg, ready for our departure onto the North Sea the next day. We were welcomed with the customary helpfulness by harbourmaster Susanne, and we moored by her Mk1 Crabber, Spinaway.

Westbound again

Following the OGA60 party and the East Coast cruise, Molly found herself in Chatham Martime Marina, on its heritage pontoon and with almost 200 miles to travel home. I had allowed 6 days for this passage, but circumstances intervened.

We had a sense that all was not well when we locked in to Chatham. We were given conflicting instructions by lock control, the lock was not operated efficiently (ie not full and boats waiting) and on one cycle, both sets of doors were opened at once, allowing a torrent to flow out of the lagoon.

The lock gates broke down on Friday, but we only learned of this when we tried to leave on Saturday. A sorry series of events ensued, during which the marina staff did not cover themselves in glory or demonstrate any particular urgency. We ended up contacting MDL’s head office, which seemed to stimulate events a little and, to cut a long story short, after four days trapped in Chatham marina, the lock gates were fixed and the fleet was able to escape on Tuesday. Suffice it to say that I will avoid MDL marinas in future.

The train of depressions, which the jet stream has been bowling us, had come to an end and we left the Medway with very welcome hot, sunny weather and light winds (ie finally, we started having August weather!). The forecast was for declining winds and I only had three days to compete Molly’s passage home to Gosport. I had been joined for this section by John Frampton, a fellow Cornish Crabber owner (Shrimper 21 to be precise).

Before we could travel West, we needed first to travel East. As we left the Medway, we were treated to flat seas and a steady southwesterly. John and I opted, rather than hugging the shore, to enjoy a good sail and visit some of the landmarks in the estuary.

We had a fair tide to carry us East, so we made for the main Princes Channel, taking in our first point of interest, which was the Red Sand Forts. These are steel structures were observation posts on legs attached to sunken barges, dating from WWII. They are one of a number of “Maunsell forts” (after their designer) whose original purpose was to provide warning of incoming aircraft and deter mine laying in the important Thames estuary. They continued to operate post-war and since their decommissioning have been sometime pirate radio stations.

Nowadays they make a striking but rather eerie and forlorn sight and appear to be deteriorating rapidly. There are moves to preserve them and I hope it comes to pass, as they are a unusual historical feature. Evidently they are a tourist attraction, as we could see visiting motor boats (in addition to yachts sailing close by).

During our tacks down the Thames estuary, we saw another set of Maunsell forts on the intruigingly named Shivering Sands, as well as skimming the edge of yet another array of wind turbines at Kentish Flats.

We passed along the outside of Margate sands at low tide, and could see groups of basking seals, though we dared not approach too closely in these very shallow waters.

Nearing North Foreland, as we lost the shelter of the land, the wind strength increased and the sea grew more choppy. Having passed this iconic corner and we were westbound again and, as John pointed out, we had the whole sea area from North Foreland to Selsey Bill to cover.

The wind was right on the nose, so we motored on main only into Ramsgate. We were followed by Puffin Bach and all of us rapidly decamped into town for some lovely fresh fish and chips, followed by a pint in the very friendly bar of Royal Temple Yacht Club.

OGA East Coast Cruise Part 2

Molly rafted in Chatham to *Emmanuel*, between *VIC96* on one side and *Puffin Bach* and *Plum of Mylor* on the other

Continuing our cruise from the Orwell to the Medway, taking in the Essex coast…

Wednesday night found us in the Swale, at Queenborough, a day earlier than expected. For the final leg of the cruise we had an interesting passage up the Medway to Chatham. The river is very industrial at the mouth, with many working (and some apparently derelict) commercial berths, mostly loading bulk goods. The river has a series of meandering bends and after the first, the river becomes much more rural.

The wind was very light and fluky, but I was determined to sail as much as possible. It was a very peaceful sail and sailing solo, I certainly had plenty of practice of single handed tacking of the foresails!

Eventually, we drew into Chatham which is approached around a large oxbow. We passed first a double commercial lock, and once around the bend the second, newer single lock into the marina on the opposite side of the loop. There are three connecting basins between these two sets of locks, though they are no longer navigable. This creates an “island” which is now a modern housing estate. The yacht marina within the eastern side is large and, as now seems to customary, lined with residential developments.

Nestling at the back of the marina, is the “heritage pier”, which predates the marina and is home to our host, the Chatham Maritime Trust. During our stay here, we were given tours of their restored wartime steam tug VIC 96, which was originally a victualling craft and, having languished as a display exhibit in Cumbria, has been restored to full working order and returned to its home.

Molly was rafted alongside a lovely 1924 30’ gaff cutter, Emanuel, fully restored by owners Jan and Robert Holden. This boat, whose mooring I had passed on my outbound visit to Sandwich, has made several historic voyages including a single handed passage to the Faeroes and Newfoundland in the 1930s. Her current custodians are understandably proud of her, and Jan was delighted to show us the immaculate interior which has been restored faithfully to the condition for those famous voyages.

Robert telling us Emanuel’s story. Note the cinque ports crest on her stern

The coat of arms of King George III at the entrance to the historic dockyard at Chatham

3 Slip, “the Big Space”, an amazing wooden building designed to be large enough to cover a ship in construction

During our stay, there were also tours of a local gin distillery available, though a few of us chose to visit the fascinating Historic Dockyard. This has amazingly well preserved architecture, including the last intact example of a rope walk (a building a quarter of a mile long), still working.

That evening marked the conclusion of the official rally, spent on deck of VIC 96, with a fish and chip supper.

I had been joined for the final section of the trip by fellow Solent sailor, John, who owns a shrimper 21 and was keen to sail a Crabber 26.

The forecast was not ideal, but we dropped our warps promptly at 0730, for our passage to Ramsgate, but I was struck dumb when I radioed for a lock out and was told tbd lock was broken! It transpired that the lock had malfunctioned the previous day and the marina told us it was due to be fixed that day. However, we heard different stories at different times and it emerged that this was not the first breakdown.

I found it unbelievable that a large marina (part of the MDL chain) would be rendered inoperable on a summer weekend and a complete lack of urgency to the repairs! Frustrating though this was, the Chatham Maritime Trust were very happy to accommodate us for the duration of our enforced stay, for which we were most grateful. Many owners had to leave their boats and return the following weekend to get them home.

We made the best of the waiting time, visiting each others’ boats and also returning to see more of the historic dockyard (the ticket is valid for a year). John and I enjoyed dinner aboard Windbreker courtesy of Else and Edgar, who have lived aboard for all 25 years of their marriage.

OGA diamond jubilee party

The party to mark 60 years of the OGA (association for gaff rigged sailing) took place in two halves. Celebrations kicked off right in the centre of Ipswich with all the cruising boats moored together at Ipswich Haven Marina. A series of organised events were available but Huw (who had sailed with me from Ramsgate), joined by his wife Maggie, and I enjoyed a sunny sail down the Orwell to the docks and back.

Rafted to Nancy Blackett, locking in to Ipswich marina

The two evening gatherings were lively affairs in a local deconsecrated church. Gaffers are an unruly lot and the briefing was very much a “herding cats” scenario. The main event of the second day was a parade of sail, in which all of the cruising boats were to process down the Orwell to Suffolk Yacht Harbour at Levington, joined by all the trailer sailers who would sail up from Suffolk Yacht Harbour to meet us for the second half of the party.

Ipswich lock was opened on free flow, after a large cargo vessel had turned about in the narrow commercial port, and we all made our way down to the Orwell road bridge. The fleet was divided up into a number of “squadrons” in order to help the boats, which varied enormously in size and type, to stay in some sort of formation.

Parade forming up under the Orwell Bridge

Molly on a mooring as the procession forms up

In the deluge! (you can see a torrent of water pouring off our reef)

Molly was among the early boats to leave harbour, with Niki and Alice aboard as well as Solent friends Grant and Amanda. We picked up a mooring below the bridge and watched the procession forming, before taking our own place. The day started as a lovely summer day with light winds and a few puffy clouds drifting by.

The weather changed though; as the procession got going, a bank of ominous cloud approached. We could clearly see a line of rain advancing towards us. However we were unprepared for the intensity of the deluge that arrived, complete with thunder and lightning, though fortunately no strong winds. The fleet continued undaunted and eventually the rain eased for the protracted process of getting all the boats squeezed into the Suffolk Yacht Harbour for the second half of the party.

Sadly, the next day was filled with heavy rain and very light winds, followed by strong winds the day after. Molly’s crew skipped the racing and we all had a pleasant day in Woodbridge. The evening entertainments were not dampened by the weather, with live music, an open mic and several interesting talks. By this time, the crews from boats small or large and from all regions were well-mixed, and swapping stories.

Replica Saxon longboat made, using measurements from the Sutton Hoo dig, as well as period correct (as far as known) techniques and materials

Sailing to the East coast 3: Crossing the Thames estuary

The wavy jet stream has been bowling low pressure systems at us one after another and we three boats from the Solent have been obsessively poring over weather forecasts, waiting for a gap to allow us to complete the final leg of our journey, from Ramsgate in Kent across the Thames estuary to Suffolk. My plan had been to spend some time on the Suffolk rivers, but these plans were now abandoned and I was just hoping for a suitable day to cross before our party in Ipswich.

The three boats in question were Huw and myself on Molly, Liz and Tim on High Barbaree (Cornish Crabbers Pilot Cutter 30) and Brian on Puffin Bach (Tamarisk 24). We decided our window had come after two very windy days in Ramsgate and set off determined to stay together in a gusty SW F5.

Puffin Bach and High Barbaree making for North Foreland under jib and engine

We initially had jib only with engine and ran north along the chalky coast past Broadstairs and the iconic North Foreland, into the wide mouth of the Thames. The main landmarks were the huge Thanet wind farm close by, with the London array visible in the distance. The latter was our target and pass through this grid of turbines to cross Foulgers Gat, a passage between one of many sand banks in the Thames estuary.

We had been promised a decreasing wind by the forecast, but that was not to be. Huw and I decided that raising the main would ease the uncomfortable motion of that confused water. What a difference it made! We cut much more easily through the chop between the turbines on double reefed main and jib. As we emerged into Black Deep, the main shipping channel, it was clear we were leaving behind Puffin Bach, sailed solo by Brian. On a broad reach at that point, we tacked back round to him then tacked once more onto to our original course.

Huw at the helm, as we sailed through London array wind farm

We switched from jib to staysail, in order to match pace with the smaller boat and continued north. However the gusty wind increased in strength and veered to NE, right on the nose. This forced us to drop our sails and motor right into it. Thus ensued a quite uncomfortable period with some very steep chop right on our beam.

The first sign of the Suffolk shore was the distinctive silhouette of the cranes at Felixstowe, long before we could make out the actual land. At long last we closed with the shore, crossed the Medusa shallows and entered the mouth of the Orwell. Conditions were still pretty lively so Huw and I dropped our plans to anchor for the night and chose the shelter of Shotley marina.

Locking in to the serenity of this harbour in the shadow of great container ships in Felixstowe, we enjoyed corned beef hash aboard High Barbaree for dinner, after which we returned aboard Molly and our heads barely touched the pillows before our eyes closed.

OGA60: prologue

I have explored the Stour in our previous boat Aurora, a Cape Cutter 19 and I wanted to repeat a passage I had made to the navigable limit at Manningtree. The crews of the three boat that sailed from the Solent congregated on Molly with an objective to visit Stour Sailing Club for a pint.

It was surprisingly rough at Harwich as we left the shelter of the marina and motored into the teeth of the wind. “It’s a shame we didn’t come in summer”, Brian commented ironically.

As we progressed up river, it gradually became less choppy. We were crossed by a yacht beating up river and also admired a number of sail boarders. We also passed a large barge on its way downstream shortly before we reached its departure point at Mistley, the point where the river shows all drying green on the chart.

Manningtree is the navigable limit of the river Stour

At this point it was necessary to weave more slowly, seeking out the channel of deeper waters. Guided by the line of moored boats and a few channel buoys we approached quay at Manningtree. At first there seemed no room, but the sailing dinghies and their rescue boats were moved aside for our benefit and we moored up behind another visiting yacht.

Hesitating outside the Stour SC clubhouse, the door opened and we were beckoned in by a member, clearly used to visitors “on the clock”. We had arrived at high tide, but our stay would be brief!

We quickly signed in and had a round of drinks, made very welcome guests in the club, before I had to usher the crew back to Molly. Not a moment too soon, we reversed our course and gingerly retraced our steps back to Mistley. I’m sure if we had stayed only 10 minutes more, we could have been trapped by the falling tide.

Once in the deeper water, we could dispense with the engine and ran back on jib only. After a much calmer trip back, we locked back into Shotley marina before another pleasant evening aboard High Barbaree.

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.