Christmas 2021 message from the Herrmann Browns

Merry Christmas!

Another Covid year has flown past and here we are, double-jabbed and boosted but still rather restricted on where we can go and what we can do. 

We have however managed quite a big adventure. With the support of the Westerly Owners Association, who organised a drop-in, drop-off rally, and a number of wonderful crew, Sam and I sailed Kalessin from Lowestoft to Cornwall over six weeks in June and July, and back again rather more rapidly in September. You can read a lot more about our adventures elsewhere on this blog. 

Sam on board in Fowey, with his nautical beard – now shaved off

Sam and I spent 59 nights on board in 20 different ports (some visited twice): Lowestoft, Ramsholt, SYH, Ramsgate, Dover, Eastbourne, Brighton, Chichester Marina, Gosport, Buckler's Hard, Poole, Portland, Dartmouth, Salcombe, Plymouth, Fowey, Falmouth, Malpas, and then returning via Dartmouth, Portland, Cowes, Eastbourne and Ramsgate. We had seven different crew members and covered a total of 914 nautical miles. That feels like an achievement! Thank you so much to our crew David Jibb, Ben Brown and Anne Chiu, Lucilla Herrmann and Mark Edwards, Alex Hanford and David Gibbons and to all the wonderful organisers especially Gill Clare and Ian Bartlett.

We failed to go on a big-ship cruise with P&O in March but managed a tiny cruise with Princess in October. At the time it felt like an unsuccessful adventure: the admin and Covid testing for both of us was a pain, I forgot to book car parking in Southampton, we were only in the Netherlands for six hours and it poured with rain all the time, and the entertainment on board was really not very impressive. On the other hands we discovered the joy of JustPark (highly recommended), someone else did the washing up and made the beds for three days, and we finally got to the Mauritshuis in the Hague (we pass only 20 miles away every time we take a ferry to or from the Hook of Holland) and saw the Girl with a Pearl Earring and many wonderful Rembrandts.

Sam admires The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp

Closer to home I have continued to run, with two virtual half marathons in spring and an actual real-life half marathon in Chelmsford in the autumn. To my utter astonishment I didn't come last, in spite of not really having done enough long runs in preparation. I was at school in Chelmsford more than 50 years ago and it has changed almost beyond all recognition, but I did get to run down the Great Baddow bypass, which was the first dual carriageway I ever drove on.

The official photo of Camilla crossing the Chelmsford HM finishing line

I have been doing yoga, in person and on Zoom, for many years now, but didn't realise quite how important it was to me until I had a cataract op in November and was instructed not to bend down for four weeks. Downward-facing dog and the rest seemed like a bad idea, so I stopped doing yoga, and got gradually more and more miserable until I was able to restart classes with the lovely Maria. Possibly I am addicted to yoga, but that may not be a bad thing. The eye initially recovered well, then developed unexpected blurring due to inflammation of the cornea, which is taking a long time to settle down.

Sam's health is ok, considering, but Covid has not been kind to him although for much of the year he was able to do physio and conversation classes over Zoom. It's getting harder for him to walk more than a few yards and there are days when I don't understand anything he says. During winter he often sleeps away most of the morning and although he really enjoyed being on the boat, it wasn't exactly easy for either of us.

Our beautiful granddaughter, Ivy, has just celebrated her third birthday. Unfortunately Guy has not been living with Kai, Ivy's mother, for part of the year. We continue to hope that they will find the best solution for them. In the meantime Guy has been staying with us and we have seen much more of Ivy than ever before, so that's one good thing to come out of it. Guy is back with the National Trust in a more senior role, as boat supervisor on Orfordness.

Ivy with Grandma's ukulele. She got one of her own for her birthday

Princess Ivy with an ivy crown, on her birthday

Guy & Ivy

Ben and Anne meanwhile have been settling into their house on the northern edge of Nottingham, and enjoying having an office each as both have been working from home for most of the year. (Ben is still making concrete pipes). Sam and I managed to squeeze in a short visit to them in August and admire all the work they have put in to making the house their own.

Ben's office

Anne's office

Ben also saved us twice on our Kalessin cruise by stepping in at short notice to fill in crew-less gaps – across the Thames estuary, which was fine, and with Anne, across Lyme Bay, which was not so much fun. Many thanks to both of them.

I'm continuing to work for the Cruising Association, with nothing very radical to report. Covid has reduced membership but Brexit has increased it, with so many members struggling to find the best way to continue to sail in the Med or Baltic.

Our biggest extravagance this year has been a plug-in hybrid car. It looks almost identical to our old Passat estate. I wish we could go full electric, but it's just not a practicable option for us, especially as I need to be able to get a wheelchair easily into the boot and Sam needs to be able to get in and out easily, which is not the case with an SUV with its wide sills. Currently there's only one all-electric estate car on the market, but hopefully there will be more in future.

Beloved boat and new car. SYH hauled Kalessin out of the water and then gave us the wrong location. It took two visits to find her!

Merry Christmas and a happy new year to you all, and whatever 2022 brings, may you be able to make the most of it.

The final tally

Our dirty brown home waters

This text was first posted on Facebook and all the links go to FB pages.

Just adding up the numbers on our summer cruise with the wonderful Westerly Owners' Association, and back. Sam and I spent 59 nights on board in 20 different ports (some visited twice). We had seven different crew members and covered a total of 914 nautical miles. That feels like an achievement!

• Number of marinas where we got Sam straight off the boat and into an accessible shower: one (Brighton Marina - Premier Marinas, but the rest of the marina was an accessibility nightmare with some of the steepest ramps I have ever tried to use).
• One where a staff member had to unlock a back gate to get us to the ramp (Dover Marina).
• Various locations where Sam didn't get off or having a shower was not practicable.
• One where there were no accessible facilities in the nearest shower block (Chichester Marina).
• One where the shower was ok and there were ramps everywhere outside, but the main entrance door was too narrow for the wheelchair, so Sam had to walk in (Gosport Marina).
• One needing a special code *and* a staff member to violently shake the door before it opened (Poole Quay Boat Haven & Port of Poole Marina).
• One where the disabled shower room outside door had been broken and not fixed (Portland Marina).
• One with no actual accessible facilities. but one shower out of six had enough room for a wheelchair (Plymouth Mayflower Marina - it did have a bath though!).
• One where only berthholders with a tag could get into the accessible shower, but fortunately a staff member unlocked it for us (Darthaven Marina).
• One which needed a separate code but was otherwise ok (Shepards Marina, Cowes), hooray!
• And one where I have never found out how to get into the accessible shower: our own home marina, Suffolk Yacht Harbour.

Thank you so much to our crew David Jibb, Ben Brown and Anne Chiu, Lucilla Herrmann and Mark Edwards, Alex Hanford and David Gibbons and to all the wonderful organisers especially Gill Clare and Ian Bartlett.

Dinghy spotted off Folkestone

Distant view of around 20 people in a tiny grey dinghy, 3-4 miles offshore. The orange colour is their lifejackets

Three more big jumps to get home

The tides worked in our favour for departure from Cowes. We headed upriver to the fuel barge at 0830. Fortunately the attendant was already on board and able to serve us, as technically it doesn't open until 9am. Roll on the day when every fuel berth is 24-hour and card-operated. It can't be that difficult if pretty much everywhere in France and the Netherlands can manage it.

Initially we had very light northerlies, turning around 1400 to even lighter southerlies and then dying away completely. So it was a very long day of motorsailing with very few excitements other than identifying south coast landmarks from a good way offshore. We were pleased to pass Brighton, having really not enjoyed it very much on our way out, crossed the Greenwich Meridian, and we passed very close to Beachy Head just before sunset, although the lighthouse didn't flash until long after we had passed it.

We crept into Sovereign Marina, Eastbourne pretty much in darkness at around 2015. It was easier than the approach to Portland Marina in the dark but still requiring lots of concentration! We hadn't made a booking and I was a bit disconcerted to be asked, but of course there was plenty of room although we were on a wobbly finger berth rather than alongside the jetty as we were in June.

View towards Pevensey Castle

The slightly eccentric delights of Pevensey Bay

Eastbourne Martello

I'd been struggling with tidal planning as the obvious time to leave was around 3pm (1500) on Thursday 16th, but that meant doing the Dover Straits and the approach to Ramsgate in the dark. Eventually it dawned on me that a better option for us was to leave at 3am on Friday 17th. There was a risk of hitting a lobster pot in the dark, in the shallow waters between Eastbourne and Dungeness, but a much better arrival time. That also gave us a full day in Eastbourne; Alex and David headed into town, while I did a load of washing and a brief Asda shop, replaced our knicker-whirler at Wilko, and then went for an interesting run eastwards along the coast, past the many tower blocks before reaching the bungalows and caravans of Pevensey Bay, and then inland a bit for a view of Pevensey castle... although as it was already getting hot I opted against getting all the way there and visiting properly. Instead I headed back to the beach and enjoyed a brief swim.

So at 0315 we topped up with a dribble of expensive diesel and locked out, on our own, at 0330. Despite the promised SW breeze there was virtually no wind and thank God we hit no fishing equipment, although with faint light at 0530 we did see and dodge a pot marker. The tide picked up as we rounded South Foreland and we made good speed, heading northwards for the first time in many months. 

At 1030, off Folkestone, we passed a small inflatable dinghy crammed full of maybe 20 people in orange lifejackets. We were not very close and made no effort to go closer but in fact they changed course and passed slightly closer to us. I was literally at the top of the companionway getting ready to call Dover Coastguard when they called us, having presumably seen on AIS that we were the closest vessel. They asked a lot of questions about what we could see: the dinghy appeared to be making way, not in danger of sinking and only 3-4 miles offshore. (Fortunately Alex with her brilliant distance vision could see much more than me). Subsequently another yacht agreed to stand by until officialdom turned up, but of course there was a mass of shipping not far off. It was very striking actually to see a dinghy full of people – we all hear so much about it but it was horrifying to see how incredibly vulnerable they are. And of course we will never know what happened to them.

By 1400 we were safely tied up in Ramsgate marina once more, 60M from Eastbourne. I felt I'd done Ramsgate, so I only got off to help David fetch fish and chips, and have a shower!

And finally at 0800 on Saturday October 18 we headed out of Ramsgate towards SYH. For the first time for ages we weren't much bothered by the fact that the wind was easterly, but once again there was very little of it and the seas were smooth to slight so i was very comfortable with the shortest route through Foulger's Gat and crossing the Sunk at Barrow no. 2. We had a tiny sail up towards NE Gunfleet, then the sea went shit brown and we knew that we were almost home. At Stone Banks with almost no water under the keel we had enough wind to sail into Harwich Harbour and a little way up the Orwell. By 1635 we were back on our home berth and it was very nice to have a neighbour call out "Welcome back" as we nosed in. 

We had no cars at SYH of course (because of the one-way car hire to Plymouth) so in the end decided the easiest option was for all four of us to get a large taxi back to Hoxne on Sunday 19th. Hawk Express charged us £62, but the alternative would have been a cab to Ipswich, train to Diss, another cab to Hoxne and then a drive to SYH and back, so one taxi was a lot simpler.

See next post for the final facts and figures.

Dolphins! (video)

 Dolphins very close to us in Lyme Bay.

Two big jumps to Cowes

On Saturday 11th we once again filled up with diesel in Dartmouth and headed out across Lyme Bay. On Guy's advice we reversed for some distance, then went forward to try to clear any remaining weed off the prop. It seemed to work, as we kept up with other boats leaving Dartmouth at the same time.

I'd slept very badly trying to work out timings for Portland Bill: the perfect time would have meant late twilight and almost no possibility of seeing the many fishing pots in the inshore route around the Bill. So very reluctantly I opted for the longer offshore route. We were lucky enough to be followed by a pod of dolphins for 20 minutes, seeing them again on and off throughout the day. I'll post the video when I'm on wifi! Goosewinging with a W4 behind us we made terrific time, which was a bad thing of course as we then had a foul tide south of the Bill. In addition by sheer carelessness on my part we managed to get a wrap in the foresail which proved impossible to release, so as we crashed slowly through the unpleasant chop, with the engine on from about 5.30pm, the sail flapped every 10 seconds. 

Around the outside of the Shambles rocks, the tide finally turned as it got dark. I was quite keen to press on and maybe anchor in Studland Bay but Alex and David voted firmly for an alongside mooring, so we crept into Portland Harbour and into the marina, dodging buoys (which are apparently speed limit marks) and very nearly being blown off our berth by the flapping remains of our jib - thank goodness for the help of a passing strong man who hauled us in.

After 10 hours alongside and no chance to pay we headed out again at 7.30am. The wind had dropped and it was a lovely morning – so lovely that Sam made it up into the cockpit for the first time since the short hop to Malpas. By 9am the tide turned and we hurtled past Lulworth, Swanage and Poole and into the Needles Channel. Our plan had been to go to Yarmouth but with two hours of fair tide still available I phoned a couple of Cowes marinas to see if they might have space for us. Boo hiss to Cowes Haven who were unhelpful, but Shepards Marina said they had plenty of space and by 2.30pm we were tied up in a visitor's berth in England's sailing capital.

Passing the Needles

View from the berth in Shepards Marina - a bit of a culture shock, only two days from Dartmouth

The slightly boring boat show

The plan was to sit out Monday's easterlies and for me to go to the Southampton Boat Show. It couldn't have been more convenient, as the RedJet terminal in West Cowes is less than 10 minutes walk away and at the other end the Southampton terminal is pretty much next to the Boat Show site. It all worked beautifully, it's a pity that the show wasn't more exciting, but I made it and saw my colleagues which was the main point really.

Tuesday dawned with rain and more easterlies and we decided on a rest day - which is why I'm catching up on the blog. Wednesday should see a bit of west in the wind and we're hoping for some long hops: Cowes to Eastbourne, Eastbourne to Ramsgate, and then home to the Orwell. Watch this space.

Eastward ho!

By Wednesday September 8 the winds were light again and we set off eastwards from Fowey, picking up 27 litres of fuel before heading out. The boat speed under engine seemed disappointing and we made somewhat slow progress on a dark, drizzly morning. It looked as though we might have to head back to Plymouth but with a little bit of NE breeze our speed picked up and we decided we could make it to Salcombe. 

Reed warbler heading for Africa - we hope

Not long before our arrival we picked up a passenger - a very bedraggled and perhaps not fully fledged reed warbler. S/he was only a mile or two offshore but we heard later that Salcombe bad been flooded that day so perhaps our tiny visitor got caught in the downpour. Eventually s/he flew off but we weren't entirely sure they would make it to Africa.

I had totally forgotten about the bar at the entrance, but fortunately the timing was perfect and we came in about half tide. We were met by a Salcombe Harbour launch who helped tie us on to a buoy - just as well, as it had just a loop and no pickup buoy, and I'm not sure David's shoulder was ready for him to hang head down over the bow of the boat.

As we relaxed for a quiet evening - considerably quieter than out last evening in Salcombe - Alex & David noticed a load of ribbon weed hanging from the back of the boat. We cleared some but felt sure there was more still under there, perhaps wrapped around the prop.

On Thursday 9th the winds finally turned westerly and we made the short hop to Dartmouth. For the first time on this trip we managed a bit of sailing, only 30 minutes or so. The visibility was very poor again but we had no problem entering Dartmouth and fortunately Dart Haven Marina was able to find us a berth for what turned out to be two nights. We enjoyed good showers, including one for Sam which, guess what, was locked and only accessible with a resident's tag, but the marina staff got us in.

David's shoulder had been causing him a lot of pain and for some reason our own doctor's phone line and booking system was not working, but in Dartmouth by sheer dogged determination David managed to see a GP who provided appropriate medication, which seems to be helping.

My own tiny beach

View from the headland

Dartmouth Daymark

And I had a lovely run-walk, more of a walk than run to be honest, up to the Daymark and back along the SW coastal path. It was rather fun to be out in my running shorts, t-shirt and little running belt with tiny water bottle, and to meet serious walkers heading east with backpacks, waterproofs, walking poles and much more. I found a tiny beach which I had all to myself for 10 minutes – long enough for a slightly chilly paddle.

Upriver and back to Fowey

Misty Malpas

On our third night in Falmouth Alex & David took us out for a meal at La Peniche, a barge moored at the back of the Falmouth Haven Marina. This had the vast advantage that we didn't have to take Sam up the ramp as it was on the same level as us, and the food was excellent too. A great treat to go out for classier food for the first time since goodness knows when.

With the winds still forecast to be easterly, grr, we decided to go upriver for Sunday night and on the advice of Sophie and Alistair moored to a deepwater pontoon at Malpas. Out at see it was murky and misty but at Malpas it was gorgeous, very very quiet and a great birdwatching spot for David. We still haven't got around to blowing up the dinghy and that night was no exception, but none of us felt we needed to go anywhere.

Monday morning saw us en route to Fowey, motoring into very light easterlies and again with visibility no more than a couple of miles. We spotted what was probably a whale, some distance off. The Fowey Harbour team very kindly gave us permission to moor up to the Berrill's Yard pontoon again although this time we didn't get Sam off the boat - the prospect of all those hills and narrow lanes was just too daunting. But we all thoroughly enjoyed Fowey again, it manages to be friendly and welcoming despite the constant influx of visitors. 

Sunny Mixtow

 

I was reading The Salt Path by Raynor Winn, and was interested to find that their route ended at Polruan, just across the water. I crossed the water myself, to Bodinnick and upriver (walking) to Mixtow, in search of a gas bottle. Alas, I found the cafe that sells them and could even see the bottle I wanted in their cage, but it was firmly locked shut, as was the cafe. No idea why, as it was a gorgeous day, but I had a nice walk anyway.

The far west: Falmouth

Having persuaded my family to have their celebration (Lucilla & Mark's 25th wedding anniversary, plus a delayed Christmas get together) over the August Bank Holiday weekend, we were able to drive down to Plymouth on Tuesday August 31 to start the next leg. Alex and David arranged the hire of what was meant to be an estate car but turned out to be a vast Mercedes SUV. We had to dismantle the wheelchair and it was a bit high for Sam to climb into but otherwise it was very comfortable. We repeated the route via the Midlands and with only a few traffic hiccups arrived back at Mayflower by 1730, which gave us time to get Sam on board, go to Lidl to stock up with food & booze while we still had the car, and have a slightly late dinner. Sam was so exhausted he fell asleep holding his fork!

Wednesday was a day for rest and planning. A high over Scotland has meant days and days of grey clouds on northeasterlies, and the pattern continued. Fortunately we had always planned to start the cruise with a trip to Falmouth, which was originally planned to be the end of ASC21. The models seemed to show different wind strengths but they all agreed it was going to be gusty. I dithered extensively, discussed with WOA SW secretary Bob Walker who came by to say hello and stayed for a lovely chat, and eventually after a slightly restless night decided to go for it.

With one reef in the main (after a few minutes in Plymouth Sound to free off the reefing horns which were jammed under the luff cleat, thank you David for your strong hands) we crept cautiously around Rame Head and set off in the direction of Falmouth, with Fowey as a fallback if it got too uncomfortable. In the end we motored much of the way for speed and stability, and by the time we reached the approaches to Falmouth we were probably seeing the odd 2m swell, so it wasn't very comfortable. But we had moments of sunshine, the gusts were not too strong and we reached Falmouth having covered 40 miles in around seven hours.

Alex and David celebrate our arrival in Falmouth

It was just as well we kept the speed up. I'd been in communication with Falmouth Haven Marina, which doesn't normally accept bookings, and their manager had very kindly offered us a berth with finger pontoon... but apparently hadn't told the harbourmaster on duty who assured me that I had the wrong marina. We ended up picking our way slowly between the buoys while I juggled tiller, handheld VHF and the email on my phone. Eventually he confirmed the berth, turned out a RIB that was moored there, and here we are on C05. The office closes sometime between 5 and 6pm, so if we'd been later we would just have had to raft up on the outer jetty with everyone else.

Falmouth is not surprisingly very busy and full of youngsters on holiday. Marina facilities are ok but there's really no disabled access to showers, which is a shame. I spent Friday morning walking up to the Premier Marina to see if I could get a replacement bulb for our heads light - the electrical people didn't stock them but fortunately the very unpromising-looking chandlery managed to find me an LED which fits and works, so that was a result. 

In the afternoon we got Sam off the boat for a pleasant walk around town in fitful sunshine, and on our way back from our coffees and beers were astonished to walk into Clare and Simon Evans, here on holiday - I've been singing with Clare most weeks for almost 30 years, and Simon has sailed with us a couple of times, but I had forgotten they were down this way, and it was astonishing chance that we were both on the same little cut-through road at the same time.

And in the early evening, after slightly more organisation, we met Sophie and Alistair Velzian - Sophie worked with me extensively when she was at Microsoft and I was contracting with Aviva, and in subsequent years she has changed husbands, bought a boat, moved to Cornwall and changed jobs. It was lovely to see her and catch up.

Summer interlude

The six weeks at home was mainly memorable for being manically busy as I'd started work on the September magazine late and needed to finish early so members got it well before the Southampton Boat Show. Fortunately there was no pressure to go down to the boat for weekends as it was 250 miles away!

Sadly Bill Miller, who organised the whole ASC21 rally starting last October, died in early August. His lung cancer had spread to spine and brain and we feared when we saw him at Shotley that we might not see him again, but you always hope for the best.

Can't find a picture of Bill but here's his lovely boat Meltemi (a Storm Cruiser). RIP Bill

Late report on Fowey

As very briefly mentioned in the last post we made it to the final ASC21 destination, Fowey. The run west from Plymouth was relatively painless and we even managed to sail a good chunk of the distance to Fowey. On arrival we rafted briefly to the rest of the fleet before a pre-arranged space opened up on the town jetty.

Sam, Peter and friends

We discovered by chance that Peter, who runs one of Sam's stroke clubs just outside Bury St Edmunds in Suffolk, was on holiday in Fowey literally across the river from us. He could actually see our boat from his balcony and I could see him waving - I messaged him to say "Is one of you wearing a stripey top?" and he responded "that's me!"  He and his friends came over for a drink, which was very delightful as we hadn't seen him in person since February 2020 when Stroke Club meetings ended because of Covid.

The team ready to wheel Sam to the final dinner

Fowey is lovely but every road is very steep! On the 16th we had an end of cruise dinner at the Royal Fowey YC which is some way downriver from our mooring. We got Sam from one end of the town to the other with Mark pushing, me pulling an attached rope, and Lucilla literally going ahead to stop (one-way) oncoming traffic in some places – there is no room for a big SUV or van to pass a wheelchair. Sam was very patient, Mark very strong and there is no way we could have got to the Royal Fowey YC without them.

We had a very nice dinner with less feeling of social distancing than at the other events, but that was a good thing. It was only two days before "opening up day" after Covid. We had a few speeches and Kalessin won a bottle of wine for doing (almost) the whole cruise.

July 17 saw us heading back to Plymouth in flat calm conditions, although we did see a couple of dolphins and possibly a whale, and while everyone else in the whole of Plymouth Harbour was turning out to see the SailGP racing, I was mostly concerned that we would be able to get back to the marina before they closed the passages through. In fact The Bridge (that's a deep patch, not an actual bridge) next to Drake Island wasn't closed and the tide was fine for us to head in, so we did, and moored on the same pontoon we had been on before. We'd covered 502M from SYH including the leg north to Lowestoft.

I got a taxi to collect our one-way car hire from Enterprise, which disappointingly was a rather modest Skoda Fabia and not the Focus-sized hatchback I'd hoped for. Lucilla and Mark were whisked away by Mark's brother and we spent the afternoon packing and tidying, and trying to work out how to squeeze everything into the car. And on Sunday we drove home, via Birmingham which sounds mad but was probably quicker than the M25. The service areas were manic but with not much truck traffic the roads were ok.

We are safely home

 We are back in Hoxne and I'm a bit overwhelmed with work. We made it to Fowey which was lovely, but made me realise that Cornwall is possibly even worse than Guernsey for wheelchair users. Kalessin is now back in Plymouth awaiting next steps. I'll update you with the rest in a few days...

Via Salcombe to Plymouth

 

Salcombe on a damp morning 

Dartmouth to Salcombe is a relatively short hop, just 16 miles or so. Unfortunately as we left at Saturday lunchtime the air was so wet you could have squeezed it out like a mop and everything was damp and rather unpleasant with very light winds. Still, with a fair amount of tide under us we did manage an hour or so of actual sailing and some stunning views of Devon cliffs and hills.

In Salcombe we were on a visitors' pontoon along with 10 or so other WOA Westerlys. We were told it was "in the Bag" but not knowing exactly where that was we took a wrong turn and very nearly went aground in a side channel. All was well though, and back in the main channel we saw the rest of the fleet and rafted up to Morning Mist. We couldn't have got Sam ashore anyway so rafting up was no problem. The views were gorgeous, only slightly disturbed by dozens and dozens of dinghies and ribs buzzing up and down to the town. That's one major disadvantage of a mooring area over a marina. Gill and Dave from Morning Mist went off to explore Salcombe and came back not very much later to report that it was jam-packed with tourists and not much fun.

We'd planned to go into the Yealm on Sunday, but working out a fair tide to get there combined with enough water over the bar was proving a bit of a challenge. Then Gill mentioned that it was due to rain from lunchtime Sunday until Monday morning. Discretion proved the better part of valour and we decided to head for Plymouth Mayflower a day early, which also meant that Mark could be sure of watching some kind of football match (England vs Italy in the final of the UEFA Euro 2020).

Sunday was indeed damp, with a bumpy sea and modest southerlies. We could have sailed but I opted to motorsail with just the jib for the comfort of Sam, who is a bit under the weather – not ill exactly, but not coping very well. Lucilla and Mark got a chance to try out their 20-year-plus-old oilies when it bucketed with rain. Mark's were ok but smelled of very old cheese, while Lucilla's leaked. My beloved Musto trousers also leaked a bit, so I'd better start saving for a new set.

Finally after wiggling through Plymouth we ended up at what we hoped was the correct marina, and here we are on a nice safe berth, hiding from the rain. Let's hope for drier weather to come.

Bill & Lyme

 

Portland lighthouse and the tidal race ahead

On Thursday we finally headed off around Portland Bill at a relatively civilised 9am. We met up with Moonshine, a Centaur, by arrangement and escorted each other around Portland Bill, with a number of Westerlys and others also close by. It really wasn't too bad and we were almost as close in as recommended (150m off the shore). Then it was off for the long slog across Lyme Bay, 45 miles motorsailing straight into wind. It was a very long day and although we got some sunshine early on, by mid-afternoon it was just crash, crash, crash and very boring and unpleasant. Anne very wisely slept below, Sam dozed uncomfortably, and Ben and I played "who am I" until we'd used up all the people we could both think of.

Fellow ship Southern Storm in a quieter moment early on

Still, even bad things come to an end and we reached Dartmouth to our assigned berth on the town jetty and a welcome from John Alker, the Westerly rep in Dartmouth. The sun came out and it was almost worth the effort. This is really the West Country and it felt quite different from anywhere we had been before, with the narrow rocky entrance and steep hills on either side. Ben and Anne got a brief chance to explore on Thursday evening, and on Friday morning John Alker very kindly took them to Totnes to catch their train.

View from Kalessin, Thursday evening 

View of Kalessin, Friday morning 

With a day of ok weather I got a bit of a chance to explore Dartmouth, walking down to the castle, which was obviously the aim of everyone else in the town, and then up the steep hill to Gallants Bower, once a Civil War fort, where there was no-one at all.

I was back on the boat in time to clean up a bit and greet Lucilla and Mark as they arrived with Mark's brother and his wife and dog - they live on the Tamar in Cornwall and Lucilla and Mark had been staying there. A rapid settling in was followed by getting Sam off the boat, up the ramp into the town and immediately down the ramp to the other end of the same jetty to catch the ferry to Kingswear. (There's a wheelchair- and Covid-proof barrier in between the two ends of the jetty). We dined at the Royal Dart YC, with lovely drinks on the terrace with the rest of the WOA crews and then a very very slow meal, downstairs in the bar because the stairs had no rail on one side, with Lucilla and Mark plus Hillary and Kim from Moonshine. We learned a lot about Hillary and a little about Kim, who is a jeweller and was on the first two episodes of All That Glitters (Bake-Off for jewellers). Sam got very tetchy and tired, which was a shame, but on balance it was a good evening.

Fishy interlude

 

Because we stayed extra days at Portland we were able to visit Dorset Shellfish, which is only open from Wednesday to Saturday and sells local seafood. On our very well-equipped boat we have an oyster knife (€3 from Carrefour) so we bought half a dozen oysters and some crabmeat, and Ben made us crab linguine. What a treat!

Portland for a while

On Thursday night we invited the other WOA boats in Poole Quay Boat Haven for drinks on or near Kalessin, which was very nice and informal, and a good chance to catch up with some of the other owners. Fortunately we split spontaneously into groups of six, in the cockpit, on the pontoon and on the foredeck, so hopefully we were all Covid-safe.

For the night of Friday July 2 we had two options: stay another night in Poole or head off for Portland a day early. I dithered for some time about options then discovered that one of the other WOA boats in Poole had enquired about staying an extra night and had been told there were no spaces. That made the decision easy, so at 6am on Friday we headed out of PQBH heading westwards. Once again it was a day of light winds and tidal planning – there are overfalls (whirlpools caused by the tide) off Durlston Head and worse ones off St Alban's Head. I don't think we were quite close enough in to avoid the latter, but in the relatively benign conditions there was no great problem. 

Old Harry rocks

The next worry was the extremely active Lulworth firing range, where live fire was due between 0930 and 1230 that day. We had left early not just to get fair tide but also in an attempt to clear the range before firing started, and I think we were successful as no-one called us or warned us off. Behind us a number of WOA boats including Camomile were called on Ch 16, but we couldn't hear their side of the conversation. At least one boat heading for Lulworth Cove was told to go away.

As we approached Portland the entertainment included a number of cruise ships anchored out in the bay. The wind got up enough for us to sail for the last hour or so. David and I had an interesting discussion as we approached the vast outer walls of Portland Harbour. He was convinced that the opening in front of us was Weymouth Harbour. I was equally sure it was the north entrance to Portland, which it was in fact, and we entered with no problem at all while a tanker bound for the refuelling berth entered through the east entrance. (There's a south entrance too, but it's been blocked by the sunken HMS Hood since 1914).

Lots of Westerlys on S Pontoon

Portland is a huge Victorian man-made harbour which is the home of the Weymouth and Portland National Sailing Academy, and it hosted the Olympic sailing events in 2012. The marina dates from that time and although it occupies a relatively tiny bit of the harbour it's big and spacious, with dedicated visitor pontoons on the outer end, and its own inner harbour wall to reduce swell. All the Westerlys were on S pontoon, which was great apart from the very long walk to the facilities. We got a good location on the inside of the pontoon and all in all I was glad we got there on Friday.

There were WOA drinks on the Friday evening and the main WOA entertainment was shanty singing on the Saturday night. Both were led from Morning Mist which was immediately behind us, so Sam could join in without even having to leave the boat. After two sessions of manly shanties I was able to introduce the group to the Housework Shanty which we sing in Rough at the Edges, It went down very well and I'm sure Tim Brook would have been proud of me.

Walking around the prison 

Chesil Beach with Portland Harbour to the right

Chesil Beach from on top

The weather here is very odd with mist, clouds, sun and rain following each other in quick succession. On Saturday afternoon I was able to enjoy a great walk up to  HMP The Verne and across the ridge to get a wonderful view along Chesil Beach. What a very strange beach it is, looking more like a vast sea wall from most angles and held together with vast wire baskets. Walks around here seem to be dominated by the ghastly A354 which is almost impossible to cross without a central refuge, even running. On Strava you can see where I diverted quarter of a mile uphill to try to find a place where I could see traffic coming in both directions.

Sunday saw us saying farewell to David Jibb who spent an amazing three weeks with us and has been an invaluable crew. It was great to be able to discuss navigation with someone who was both knowledgeable and interested, and several times he alerted me to issues I had completely overlooked. Of course we do some things differently but I think we reached a compromise on most things and he gave us a bottle of gin and some tonics on his departure, which was above and beyond the call of duty. I do hope he enjoyed it, and that he gets out to Sharina II soon. 

Just as David messaged me to say he was home in Deal, Ben and Anne arrived. Hooray! They found me dithering once again about departure. Sunday had been very windy, windier than forecast perhaps. Monday offered a relatively short window of modest winds, straight on the nose, with wind starting to build again by late afternoon for a seriously windy day on Tuesday. The fleet was dividing, with some going for it and heading out around the terrifying Portland Bill (it has a scary tidal race) to go for Torbay or Dartmouth, others waiting out the wind in Weymouth, and some heading back to the Solent. I decided to get up very early and trot over to Chesil Beach to look at the sea state, which I did. Actually the sea state was ok, but the prospect of heading straight into a F4 for at least six hours with a crew who hadn't got their sea legs yet seemed like a really bad idea. In fact it seems it was not as bad as expected, and apart from Camomile, who suffered a transmission failure and had to be towed into Dartmouth, the rest all reached their intended destinations without problems.

Weymouth Marina had no room for us and I didn't want to be rafted up on Wemouth quay, so we decided to stay where we were where we could at least get Sam ashore (although sadly the accessible facilities are out of use, so no shower). We managed to get Sam off the boat on Monday afternoon for a walk to Portland Castle where we had tea and looked at the view, then to Chesil Beach so Sam could see it, and back along the ghastly A354. I diverted to Lidl to get some rice just as it started to rain, and Ben and Anne managed to get Sam back on board between them, bless them. It took well over an hour in the cockpit tent with blankets, hot tea and the electric fan heater before Sam thawed sufficiently to come below.

Here we are at 1630 on Tuesday and I still haven't been off the boat today. After torrential rain overnight we have had strong and steady winds of up to 25 knots almost all day. A chance to do some work and catch up with this blog, at length. We're still hoping to leave here on Thursday.

Poole bathing

I went swimming off this beach!

We seem to be alternating between town and country marinas on this trip and our next berth kept the pattern going, with a berth at Poole Quay Boat Haven. It used to be possible to moor on the town quay at Poole for a modest fee, if you were very well fendered. Possibly it still is, but most of the quay is now occupied by trip boats and Brownsea Island ferries, and the local authority's preference is for you to use its very expensive (£47 a night) facilities at the relatively new marina. This can take huge superyachts including the Swedish Cygnus Montanus, £30m-worth of Frers-designed, NZ-built family superyacht. However, the marina is not as smart as you would expect for your dosh. 

On the other hand a washing machine wash and tumble dry were both effective and cost just £3.50 compared with up to £10 in Premier marinas, and I found £2 in the bottom of the washing machine. Result!

Cygnus Montanus heading out

The old quay looks very uncomfortable 

A stroll on Wednesday afternoon took me much further than I thought, to find Boots (hydrocolloidal plasters for a weeping wound on Sam's leg which I'm a bit worried about) and M&S, where for the first time for many months I walked into a store and bought a pair of trousers! 

On Thursday morning I felt I needed a run so headed over the bridge and found Hamworthy park which has a shallow beach. A brief paddle confirmed that the water was as warm as it looked, so I stripped off and had a brief swim. What bliss, even in in 50cm deep water. I had no towel of course, so once again I was running in very wet clothes, this time through the middle of Poole. Goodness knows what people thought.

I was keen to get Sam a shower again so I had thought I'd look at the facilities, which are behind a series of unprepossessing blue doors on the other side of the road, next to Tesco Metro. I couldn't get in to the accessible one so enquired at the marina office, and discovered it had a different code which released the keypad lock but still didn't open the door. After trying it half a dozen times, and being advised that someone was probably using it (for 12 hours?) it transpired on Thursday that you need to put in the code and then rattle the door with the strength of a 20-year-old man, and then it opens. How well thought out. But when we finally got in it was nearly worth the effort, with gallons of very hot water and even sideways jets which went pretty much everywhere but over Sam. 

Once clean and dry we went for a pleasant walk and sat and drank a cappuccino in the sun. It was almost like normal life.

Beautiful Beaulieu

 

On our competent crew course mentioned in the previous post, our colourblind instructor Roger refused to take us into the Beaulieu river, despite its beauty, because he said it was too expensive. Perhaps that's why I have always had a slight hankering to go there. Nowadays as well as the many moorings there is also a marina at Buckler's Hard and that's where we went, although in the end Sam was so worn out by his adventures in Gosport that he didn't get off the boat.

It was another short voyage from Gosport with only about 40 minutes of actual sailing before the wind died yet again, and then a gentle motor up the river with the last of the flood. It is indeed very beautiful, and rather expensive. We were on the work pontoon which would have been a good option to get Sam ashore. I was disappointed by the walks around the area though. On Monday 28th, our arrival day, I went for a short walk after dinner (and after Sam had gone to bed at 8.30pm) but found that the path to Beaulieu itself was awash with puddles in places, and had high hedges on both sides and no view of the river. I'd just managed to divert down to the waterside to take the photo below when the heavens opened and I was totally soaked. Remembering that the boat had most of its hatches open, I tucked my phone into my knickers and started running back, but my eyes were so full of water I couldn't see at all, and had to slow down. Fortunately David had managed to close all the hatches although things were a bit damp. Not as wet as me though.

Upper Beaulieu river, 10 seconds before the rain started

Tuesday was fortunately grey and cool so I was able to work on the CA Newsletter, which took a large chunk of the day. I'd been hoping to meet up with Peta, the CA's PR lady, who lives close by, but in the end she was too busy which was perhaps just as well. By 3pm I'd sent off the PDF and thought perhaps I'd stride off down the Solent Way towards Gins Farm. That proved just as dull as the path in the other direction however, so I returned to Buckler's Hard and did a bit of tourism. I got two discounts in the museum, one for being old and one for being on a boat, so it was worth visiting.

The people in the pub seemed a bit wooden

Is it me or do the boatbuilder's cottages look a bit like Orford?

They launched warships from these slipways