All during the Friday boats kept pouring in up the Medina and I have never seen so many; rafting 5 deep in places on the other bank at East Cowes marina, even on my pontoon, boats were rafting where they could and still more kept coming in. Unbeknown to me, my skipper had already arranged with the harbour commission to move me, allowing at least four boats to raft in my spot. It wasn't till 1600, that he and his crew arrived and even by this time, a queue was building ready to take my space.
But where was I going to go, I hadn't been told, nor had I heard anything. Once ready, I took my crew at a steady pace down stream to the open waters of the Solent, except nowhere was that open, with yachts everywhere. Even more seemed to cram the sides as we passed Shepard's and Yacht Haven and the mooring buoy's to the east too were full. Every boat seemed to have a battle flag of some description so the area was a sea of fluttering colour, all in unison with the steady breeze. Pointing to windward the main went out and the jib unfurled and my sails filled as we bore away in a Westerly direction, leaving the mayhem behind me.
Soon in a steady rhythm, I was broad reaching an a starboard reach, but unfortunately one of the galley cupboard doors had become unlocked and deposited its contents all over the floor, smashing wine vinegar bottles and a cafetiere. An hour later and I was through past Hurst Castle, passing on old Thames Barge heading for Yarmouth where even more boats had mustered, although these were a different age to those I left behind in Cowes. I was swung back in to Totland Bay and soon the sails were down and I was edged closer to the shore line than I had been before. Not offering much protection from the north to north easterly wind, the anchor was set in about 3.00m of water below my keel, with the tide having another 3 hours to ebb. The sky varied from dark to pastel blue and I was all alone, no other vessel was here, just the on lookers on the beach, what a lovely way to spend an evening. My skipper before sun down did raise two 'Sail 4 Cancer' flags either side and went below to read, whilst my deck & anchor lights burned in the darkness, until tiredness too got him and he turned them off leaving the anchor light glowing in the dark.
The first start time for the race is 0500 and with the constant north easterly wind it wasn't long before boats streamed past, like a trail of working ants going about their business. Unfortunately the first movement of my crew was at 0600, when the kettle went on, by 0700 when a head appeared out of the companion way, most had gone through. In fact this year record times were set. I stayed put throughout the day, swaying in the wind more than the tide. A few boats appeared and went again and my crew busied themselves cleaning, changing the fan belt and generally chilled under the sun.
During the evening the wind dropped completely and soon everything was quiet, bar the odd Oyster Catchers.
All quiet except - My skipper had, in order to prevent wind reverberation through, lazy jacks, halyards and topping lift, eased all the lines, except this time he was woken by the creaking noise coming as the weight of the boom & main rested on the vang and gooseneck. Just enough to keep him awake but not enough to get him out of bed to sort it out. Totland Bay become Totland Creek !
Sunday and after a brief breakfast, my crew weighed anchor and we headed east back past Hurst and in amongst the fleet of Gaff rigged boats. The wind light the tide still strong, I was lead to the island side of the channel and tacked back & forth, in amongst the eddy, till that ran out and headed across towards Lymington. Where eventually the wind too died and my donk (engine) had to go on to make head way back to Cowes.
Within 30 mins the wind returned and with a similar class yacht in front my crew did all they could to tweak the sails etc., to try to catch and pass. Catch they did but not before it was time to swing in to wind and drop everything and head back up the Medina and home. With one straggler still on my berth, the harbour master soon had a quite word and they moved off, working against the tide I glided slowly in and was secured another satisfactory weekend .
