19 minute read
Solent
A south coast summer
With horizons rather limited last summer, Polly Thornton rounded up the family plus dog and rediscovered the delights of Solent sailing
When it became clear that the first lockdown in 2020 was going to end on or about the 4 July I hit the phones. With the uncertainty around Covid, restrictions and a possible 2nd lockdown we had decided that we would stay in The Solent and take two separate weeks as holiday, one going East, the other West.
On the 11th July we set sail from our home port of Lymington for Haslar Marina, Portsmouth on the incoming tide and a light westerly. Five hours later Samphire, our Beneteau 31 arrived and Alfie our Border collie jumped off ready for a walk in the large park behind the marina.
We had booked a table at The Lightship restaurant by leaving messages and I wasn’t quite sure if they had been received. They were expecting us however and we had a lovely table with windows looking out
Sailing up the solent on to the Spinnaker Tower and Portsmouth harbour. We complimented the staff on how well they were managing during Covid. They were so appreciative as they said they had many customers moaning and 4 people had just tried to get a free meal by complaining and threatening a bad review.
In the morning we walked Alfie around the park and decided to go and visit the Submarine Museum before we left. My father had worked
ABOVE
Poole Harbour
BELOW LEFT
Samphire, our Beneteau 31
BELOW CENTRE
The iconic sight of the Spinnaker tower Portsmouth
on Submarines after the War - but it was shut ! We left the marina and motored around the harbour looking at the aircraft carrier and then left Portsmouth for The Hamble.
Scramble at Hamble
When we go to The Hamble we choose to stay at Mercury Marina where the staff are lovely and very dog friendly and always have dog treats and water bowls ready. A member of staff commented that they were booking up fast for the summer. I practically ran back to Samphire, relayed the message to husband and we got on the phones to book holiday No 2 going west to Poole. I also booked to come back to Mercury for August Bank Holiday
We stayed in the Hamble for two nights eating at the Gaff Rigger where we found a warm welcome and good food . Another restaurant doing their best under trying times. One of the reasons we love staying at Mercury is it’s easy to walk the dog. We can go up to the old airfield and also do the complete Hamble walk crossing over on the Warsash ferry. I bought food for a BBQ from the Co-Op in The Hamble as we would be self catering at Beaulieu for two nights where our friends Petra and Mike were joining us .
A lovely little sail took us to Beaulieu. We negotiated the bar perfectly working as a great team with Richard steering and No 2 son and myself calling out bearings (Thanks Tom Cunliffe) All calm, all good. The weather was warm and muggy and we put up our wonderful DIY Bimini. Its two lime green pieces of sail cloth secured with bungees bought from the bungee stall at Lymington market. It works, cost under £100 and is easy to spot
BELOW
View of the Hamble when friends come to visit.
Petra and Mike came early. They always do and they always come with supplies. Chapel Down champagne and home made cake to be precise. We went to check out the BBQ area and decided it was a non starter. Too far from our mooring and not particularly pleasant.
I pulled out the griddle pan, made a huge Greek salad, chopped up baguettes and proceeded to cook lamb and pork chops. Copiously supplied with Champagne passed down from under our lime green Bimini where everyone else was sitting , I cooked up a storm.
The next day I realised that we had eaten all our supplies other than some bacon and chorizo so it would have to be pasta sauce that evening. Cooking pasta on a boat for more than two people is a pain because of needing big pans for boiling water
and colanders. I then received a phone call from some friends who were cat sitting, asking if they could come over for a drink. I invited them for supper which they accepted and I sought out bigger pans and more boiling water. They spotted the lime green tent easily and a good evening was had by all - but pasta is still a pain to cook ! Next time - risotto !
We had spent a lovely two days at Beaulieu. It was calm and quiet and the walks were easy.
Our exit over Beaulieu Bar was perfect team work again, and we had a brisk sail to Yarmouth arriving in time for a late lunch. We walked Alfie down the Yar, another of my favourite walks and then went for a spot of retail therapy in Yarmouth. Husband loves a chandlers and there was some lovely little shops I wanted to check out.
On entering Yarmouth we had a reserved berth behind the lifeboat - which went out three times that night ! We ate that night at On The Rocks - husband and son had steak I had mixed fish. Lots of lovely chips and salad . I love the fact that when the chips get cold they bring you more hot ones - and more salad ! We walked back to the boat picked Alfie up and walked him once more, before sitting on a bench in the warm evening light, with a stiff wind coming off the sea.
Next morning after a quick walk we went back to our home marina, Lymington, to get ready to celebrate No 2 son’s birthday.
Less than a month later we were off for the second of our summer trips.
Walking Alfie in the days before I noted that he had a dicky tummy but didn’t seem bothered by it or unwell. We were due to leave on the tide at about 11 in the morning so I walked him and he seemed to be fine. What wasn’t fine was the sound of the fog horn coming from The Needles and the thick fog that lay everywhere. We thought we might delay our departure but decided we had planned the trip well, we all knew what we were doing and in any case it would prove to us that we could navigate using compasses and instruments.
ABOVE LEFT
Beaulieu
BELOW LEFT
Happy Days in Yarmouth
BELOW R IGHT
Alfie feeling poorly !
Deep in doggy doo
There was no wind so we kept the motor on and made pretty good headway. As we were getting closer to Poole Alfie looked at me with the doleful eyes of a border collie and promptly shat all over the deck. No 1 son moved so quickly to a crouching position reminiscent of the film
Karate Kid and the ‘stork’. Husband grabbed the deck shower and started hosing down. We had never used the deck shower so at least we now knew it worked !
When we arrived at Poole with sparkling clean decks there was a huge sign saying FULL on the entrance to the Town Quay Marina but we were the smug family that had booked two months ago so motored in to our berth. We took Alfie for a walk to a local park and googled doggie diarrhea and discovered that some dogs are allergic to sea water. Great ! We went out that night to the Custom House on Poole Quay and had another good meal. Walking back No 1 son and I held back in case Husband was greeted by poo in the cabin but luckily the fasting seemed to be working.
The next day we set sail for Weymouth hoping for better weather. No such luck. A bit better vis but hardly any wind. It’s a lovely sail from Poole to Weymouth sitting on board watching the cliffs go by and calling out the landmarks.
We arrived at Weymouth at 2.30 and were told we had to go away until the bridge was opened at 4 which was a pain. We motored around the 10 cruise ships that were anchored there.
Entrance to Weymouth is charming with colourful houses and warehouses. It was a lovely sunny day and everyone was out enjoying themselves. We found a nature reserve close to the marina which was good for the dog. Dinner for the next two nights was at The George on The Quay, a nice restaurant with a belting soundtrack. We walked Alfie at night on a designated spot on the beach and then sat in an open air bar and people watched.
The next day was lovely and sunny and I booked Kayaks on Weymouth beach. We spent a very happy hour paddling back and forth and when we got too hot diving overboard .
ABOVE
Weymouth Harbour is always a lively stop off
BELOW
Poole is a mini cruising ground in its own right
Another lovely meal in The George, more people watching in the bar and the next morning we were ready to leave for 10.am. The forecast was a little worrying with gales heading our way.
Threatening weather
We were heading for Poole and kept checking the Predict Wind App. Rounding St Albans head the wind picked up and there were 8 foot waves in the overfalls. Buttocks clenched we spent a hairy 15 minutes (I timed it) motoring through. We had to make a decision. Sail to Poole and expect to have to stay for at least another two nights or head for Lymington. After much prevarication we decided to head home. The weather was horrid. Large waves and wallowing troughs. Wind on the beam and strong tide against us. After nine hours we finally got back. Tired and happy to be home. We threw son No 1 in the taxi, ourselves in the shower and walked quickly to the Fishermans Rest in Lymington. A Glass or two of fizz later, grilled plaice and lovely rose wine and all was good with the world. A windy night was followed by a windy morning. We waited the storm out and left for Yarmouth at about midday. We got there and the berthing master said that would have to raft. I tried to copy border collie eyes and pleaded that we had a dog on board and he put us - you guessed it - behind the Lifeboat!
A wonderful few days in Yarmouth with long walks and great food and wine. We ate in La Cucina and then went to try out La Terasse a new restaurant, where we enjoyed a glass of pinot noir ( husband ) and the best glass of sauvignon blanc I’d had all summer. We decided to book a table to eat there the following evening. A good choice ! Lots of locally sourced food, good wine and lovely service. We were checking the weather constantly only to find that another storm was on its way so decided to bail and cross the water back to the safety of Lymington.
Our final jaunt took place over August Bank Holiday. We were joined by the cat sitters and left for Mercury Marina on the Hamble late afternoon on the Friday. I took the helm and we had a lovely sail up with the tide. Turning to look back I saw huge storm clouds coming and felt the weather change.
Everyone put on full waterproofs on and whilst we avoided the rain the barometer dropped. We arrived at Mercury, sorted the boat out and cracked a bottle or two with a ‘picnic’ of parma ham, pastrami, smoked salmon, salad, cheeses. I have learnt the hard way about getting in to a marina late and having to start cooking a meal for hungry crew. This was easy. Open packet, pour wine, eat, drink. Over night the predicted storm winds came up and it was 35 knots in the Solent so we decided to do two long walks around The Hamble. On the Monday we were up early eating breakfast as we motored down the river and with no wind continued on home.
ABOVE
The anchorage in Yarmouth roads on a beautiful summer evening
BELOW
Storm coming in
Lessons learnt
We were lucky last summer. We had already decided to holiday in England and booked early. This year we have already booked everything up and have fingers crossed waiting for lockdown to end.
We learnt a lot. We learnt that planning and planning and planning again and making sure all crew know about the plan is crucial in case of fog, sand bars or weather systems. We learnt that our dog is allergic to seawater. We learnt that we don’t enjoy 10 hour sails but what we love is sailing for up to five hours, walking the dog and eating well preferably with a good glass of wine or two. Some might say we have a caravan on water but it suits us and that’s all that matters.
Tom Cunliffe
Safety afloat takes many forms - but the golden rule is to do all you can to stay out of trouble in the first place
I’m always tickled by the amount of ‘driveth furiously’. engine power to the whirling muddled thinking that goes on The sea is no different. The propeller and, if the boat is wooden, about ‘safety’. Safety to me is more primary requirement is to steer clear carefully caulked garboard seams about staying out of trouble and of lee shores. We don’t need special and reliable fastenings. Things less about what to do when my gear for that other than an engine can still go wrong, and most boats efforts have come to nothing. Take that works, a suit of sails that reefs take on a trickle of water from the car, for instance. If I had to properly and some serious ground various legitimate opportunities, choose, I’d rather it has well- tackle. The next prerequisite, after so a selection of powerful pumps is maintained brakes and that I look giving a resounding miss to such always a comfort, but now we are ahead for trouble than pay extra for obvious dangers as Rockall or the straying into the world of secondary an air bag then proceed to drive like Race of Portland, is to stay afloat safety. The same can be said of
Jehu the son of Nimshi who, as any with sound skin fittings, honest fire extinguishers. Like pumps,
Old Testament scholar will tell you, arrangements for transferring these tread a sort of Noman’s Land
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ILLUSTRATION: CLAIRE WOOD, PHOTOS TOM CUNLIFFE
between brakes and air bags. You’d be mad to venture to sea without them, but if you get everything else right, they will quietly fade out of date and be replaced without ever leaving their brackets except for an occasional shake to stir up the powder. Solid, inexpensive and reliable, they contrast vividly with the audible smoke alarms which give you a heart attack every time some poor soul decides to make a round of toast. Nothing safe about that, and not to be confused with those sensible carbon monoxide alarms which seem to behave themselves. The only answer to the noise menace is to remove the batteries, which turns out to be the popular solution. Alternatively, a common-sense sailor can keep an eye on the cooker and, if it bursts into flames, quietly advise the crew while deploying the infinitely more useful fire blanket.
Speaking of the dangers of boat cookers, I have witnessed one yacht exploding from LPG leaked into the bilge. It was a long time ago and I’ll never forget it. However, two of the galley fires I’ve been involved with have been caused directly by ‘safe’ liquid-fuelled cookers. One was a US Coastguard-approved alcohol unit in an American-built training yacht back in the 1970s. We’d left the kettle on while having fun picking up a man-overboard dummy, but when we went below for a brew we found the galley quietly going up in flames. I can’t recall what went wrong on this occasion, but I certainly can on the next. This was aboard a small sailing ship on which I served, also in the 1970s, when primus-style cookers were at the height of their popularity. While the cook’s back was turned the hands had been heating up some pitch for the deck seams on the hob. There had been a certain amount of dribble going on and when the burner was re-ignited after giving it a rest, the pressure didn’t make the grade but the fuel kept right on squirting out. The meths valiantly heating up the burner found its way into the paraffin. This in turn ignited the pitch, and away we went. Things could have ended badly, but the mate was a man of action. He turned off the paraffin valve then literally ripped the cooker from its mountings, ran up on deck with it still burning merrily in his arms, and tossed it into the sea. It didn’t half sizzle as it went down and he lost half his beard, but his prompt action saved the fire extinguishers for another day.
ABOVE
Saari with a pal in the jungle - time for a gas refill
BELOW LEFT
New standing rigging - primary safety at its best
BELOW RIGHT
Fire blanket - more useful than a smoke alarm
You’ll see that, set against so dramatic a background, the prudent use of gas has always been my private choice. Fail-safe shut-offs and sniffers go without saying. Like most people who have lived on their boats year-round, I gave up on butane years ago. It burns well enough, but it has a big problem. It slows down as temperatures drop and abandons its duties altogether at around -1 degree C. You can, of course, cheer up the cylinder with a kettle of boiling water, but unless you have friendly neighbours with an electric plug or propane cooking… you’ll take the point. Another option is to pop the cylinder into your sleeping bag at bed time, but if you share a bunk with a particular friend, you may find the intrusion unpopular. Propane is the answer. If you are stuck with butane and have bottles of a useful size there’s no problem with the cylinders. You can simply trade them in for the propane equivalent. You’ll need a new regulator because propane uses a more robust system involving a left-hand thread, but most cookers will operate on either gas. Mass-produced boats often come with disgraceful tiny blue cans designed for campers which should be clearly marked, ‘M. Mouse Equipment - for show only.’ If you intend cruising for more than the odd weekend, these have to go.
For international travel, propane is a must. I once set off with three 10-pound butane cylinders on a
ABOVE
Two 13kg propane bottles on Tom’s boat Constance last for a full four months easily
TOM CUNLIFFE
Tom has been mate on a merchant ship, run yachts for gentlemen, operated charter boats, delivered, raced and taught. He writes the pilot for the English Channel, a complete set of cruising text books and runs his own internet club for sailors worldwide at tomcunliffe.com two-year trip. We were bound for the tropics, so temperature was not an issue, but when the last one ran out in the wilds of southern Brazil, I found I had a problem. I rowed ashore to the local village where the word on the street was to take the bottles on the bus to some outfit called ‘Instagaz’. I duly loaded up and told the driver where I wanted to go. He seemed to understand, but he gave the gas bottles a nasty look, extended an arm and waggled his first finger. Throughout South America, this represents a firm ‘Nolle Prosequi’, so I did what I’d been trained to do earlier in the cruise and slipped him a few US dollars. All safety concerns evaporated and he ushered me to a bench close to him where he could keep an eye on me. We rattled off into the jungle and half an hour later at what seemed to be the end of the world, he stopped and pointed out a track into the trees. I grabbed my bottles and tottered away into the undergrowth suffering the chatter of a team of monkeys having a good laugh at my expense.
By now it was noon and the temperature was off the scale. Somewhere ahead I fancied I could hear a football match in progress. It was just that and, as I passed through a scruffy yard full of giant rusty gas tanks, I remembered that lunch break in industrial Brazil usually involves a free meal in lieu of better wages, followed by a general kick-around. The mercury was way into treble figures but it didn’t slow these guys one bit. All stripped to the waist, they looked seriously fit and I concluded that a diet of beans and rice plus hard work all day and a quick football game thrown in keeps a man full of bounce. The ref spotted me and made ‘wait a while’ gestures. Half an hour later a klaxon went off and the players melted away back to their labours. I was ushered to a propane tank and asked for the colour of my money. I stumped up and only then did all present realise that they didn’t do butane and my tanks wouldn’t take their propane fittings. But this was Brazil in the 1970s. No messing around with Health and Safety. Instead, the mighty centrehalf grabbed the nozzle on the pipe and rammed it as hard as he knew how onto my bottle. Amid massive gas escape and spectacular freezing liquid propane, my bottles were filled. Nobody weighed them, but he must have had a grip like a padlock because they lasted a very long time.
We sailed home via Canada. It got cold and I was glad I’d inadvertently switched to propane.
