Third Time Lucky ?

Following my skippers last two attempts to get me over to France was thwarted by the good old British weather, I was surprised to see him back on board this Bank Holiday.  Surely the same bad weather during Bank Holiday Act would apply as before and scupper his plans, but no this was somehow different.

Instead of an early start at the first opportunity to go, he didn't arrive on board until 0930, no provisions to speak of, neither warm clothing other than those already in the cabin below.  He also turned up with a third member again, I'd seen him before, a long while ago, when I was taken out and back under engine only.  He had a huge bag with him, which was odd when he came on deck sporting an unusual attire for sailing, a pair of shorts, T-shirt and flip flops, to match the similar unusual weather for such a weekend, sunshine & light winds.

So light in fact that once out and in to the Solent, the tide was the only driving force and it was necessary to keep tight in to get the back eddy and make way, away from the main channel.  Within the hour and my ticking engine was turned off as the wind filled.  Soon trousers replaced shorts, shoes & socks replaced flip flops and even a jacket went over the jumper.  My skipper on the other hand being used to this sort of thing just put his shoes back on, but he too soon added a coat as the wind increased to 22 knots.  My main was reduced by a single reef and I sailed 30 degrees off it, which was now coming from where I was heading, the Needles.

At least by now the tide had turned in our favour and I was heading out to sea in a south westerly direction, so maybe France was not my destination afterall.   A discussion on deck and my skipper took a different heading I was going toStudland Bay for a late lunch before continuing to Poole.  I had been in there before but not the Bay.  I found out that the intended destination was Weymouth but with the direction of the wind it had taken longer to make way, so an alternative harbour was sort.

Studland Bay was full of all sorts of boats so I was taken straight down the outer channel into Poole harbour instead, following the huge Condor Catamaran, although tide was against us and progress was slow, but after another hour I was tied up, shore power on and my water tanks replenished.  During the evening the wind died down.

In the early hours I was woken by a rather annoying home made bird scarer that had been fitted to one of the huge gin palaces (motor cruisers) near by.  A twine stretched from the bow to the uppermost part of the super-structure hummed in an irregular way as the winds strength increased.  In fact the wind had increased to where it had left yesterday, which would make leaving this leeward berth an interesting exercise.  With my skipper at the controls and his crew standing by with fenders, I slipped out of the tightest of spaces and had a hairs breath between me and the ominous CQR anchors sticking out of the bows of motor cruisers on the other side.  With the wind blowing my skipper opted to bring me out in reverse, which he did with absolute control, even the presents of another huge motor cruiser manoeuvring in the entrance didn't phase him, he just shouted as it was clear the skipper on board the other vessel had no idea we were looming on them.

At least it proved one thing there is room for two in the entrance to Town Quay Marina.  There happened to be a freighter outside manoeuvring too, but at least he was going no where quickly and appeared to have his stern sorted, just waiting for his bow thruster to bite and push against the wind.  Once out of Poole Harbour and outer channel, no shallow north channel this time, my sails were set heading back to the island.  The clouds somewhere along the line had disappeared and the wind dropped to a steady 15 knots south by south westerly.  The tide too was running with me and 8 - 9 knots was not an uncommon speed over the ground.

The Shingles bank soon loomed up and I was held north of it, till such time as my crew were happy that there would be enough depth to cross over and pass Hurst Castle.  The Western Solent around Yarmouth & Lymington was busy, somebody must have spotted a shoal of fish, as there where a number of fishing boats anchored up looking like Porcupines with their spines sticking out at the back.

The spring tide was strong as I approached Cowes and it took a while to make progress, however this was a small price to pay and is always going to happen somewhere after six hours.  Better here than when approaching the Needles channel !  A successful few days, without it being uncommonly cold, wet or windy.

May Day !

After the disappointment of the weather at Easter, my skipper had set his sites on heading to Cherbourg over the May Bank Holiday.  According to his studies the weather was looking remarkably favourable,- a north westerly on Saturday blowing me down there, some confusion over Sunday whilst the centre of the pressure zone moved eastward across the UK, which didn't matter as I wasn't going anywhere and then a southerly on Monday blowing me back. Sorted.

So he arrives with provisions a day beforehand and as usual and stows them away.  Come  0900 on Saturday a reasonable hour and  my crew arrive and get me prepared.  The day started promisingly as the sun was out, and although difficult to tell on my berth, but the wind appeared to be more westerly than expected, but that's fine, a close haul up to the Needles and then a beam reach all the way to France, I should get them there quicker than the 10 hours my skipper had envisaged.

On leaving the Medina for the Solent, the wind appeared much stronger than expected, a single reef was left in my main as it went up and I was soon heading across to Beaulieu at good speed.  The wind kept rising, 20  gusting 25 knots went up to 25 gusting 30 knots and after a couple of tacks, the second reef was put in and control of the main was returned, the main sheet played to ease out the gusts.  My bows by now digging in to the oncoming waves would at least smother the green algae on my decks which would soon disappear from the salt in the water washing over it.  Eventually though my crew had had enough, this is not why they were out sailing and so another trip to France was thwarted by the weather and they returned me back to my pontoon.

My skipper radio'd the Harbour Master as we came in to let him know of our return, he came to see us later, apparently the weather deteriorated.  A text later and plans were change.

My skipper and crew remained on board Saturday night and then slipped my lines to head to Totland Bay for lunch the following day.  The weather couldn't be any different, sunshine, decent winds which brought a good sail up to drop the hook.  It was as if we'd put out a board advertising the Totland Bay was now open as boat after boat came in presumably to do the same thing.  With only just the jib we made our way over to Lymington and a chance for my crew to re-fill my water tanks and also get a much needed shower in the marina's exquisite facilities.

Monday came and one of my skippers friends turned up with his daughter and so lunch was served under blissful sunshine before they had to disappear, my lines were slipped once more and we headed for home.  Not quite the weekend planned, but none the less, out on one of the busiest stretches of water, able to stretch my legs and show that the money spent on my copper bottom was money well spent, as I slipped through the water unhindered by living organisms, cadging a ride.