50 Not Out - Day 7. Loblolly Bay, ARH and the ghost of Ken Bates.

Today we headed off to Loblolly Bay. We had another slight taxi holdup, because the old truck wouldn't start and the dreadlocked driver couldn't get the hood open to try and fix it. After much pulling, pushing, thumping and hammering with the help of Potter from the restaurant, Mitch, who's truck it is, arrived and applied the correct magic to open it up. A quick squirt of petrol into the (diesel) engine and we had lift off.

Loblolly's slightly futher away than Cow Wreck beach, but we had proper roads for further too, since they're black-top to the airport before reverting to packed sand. We saw some of the island donkeys on the way.

Loblolly is another wonderful spot. It's a slightly larger beach than Cow Wreck with a more people, but it's still utterly beautiful and the snorkelling is definitely better. We didn't do much, but snorkel, sit in the sun, eat lunch at the Blue Bamboo restaurant and repeat after lunch, but what a wonderful spot to do that.


We couldn't work out what these little critters were up to as they followed us everywhere. It was only when one of us touched the bottom that we realised they were waiting for us to stir up the sand so that they could sift it for food. Who said that fish were stupid?

These girls were part of a group of about twenty who we met a few places around the islands. It turns out that they're an all-girl acapella singing group on a vacation sharing two very nice catamarans with a lady chaperone and with two young guys organising the trip (including the "medic") who looked like they couldn't believe their luck!








Dinner for my birthday was at the Anegada Reef Hotel. Again a wonderful meal in a wonderful setting - and the one evening we didn't take a single picture! Ah well.

After the meal, we got talking to the lady who runs the ARH. She's been there since the late 1960's, when she went over to Anegada to work for Ken Bates who was trying to set up a mega-resort on the island, having purchased a 199 year lease on 90% of the island, something that would have been a disaster for the island and the islanders. Fortunately, the BVI government managed to make life difficult enough for him that he abandoned the project leaving Anegada to be the un-developed paradise that it remains today. We were horrified that it came so close to being ruined by such an unpleasant character as Bates, but delighted that the BVI government had been able to get rid of him. It was weird to hear his name crop up in such an unlikely place, though.

50 Not Out - Day 6. Cow Wreck and Potters.

This really was a day in paradise. We got off to a slow start when the taxi that we'd ordered to Cow Wreck beach didn't show up. The driver had been held up on the other side of the island. We were told this by the lady running the store while we were waiting outside for him to show up. We wondered why she'd know, but another passer by told us that she was his daughter. Life on a small island.

Eventually we found another cab (actually a pick-up with benches bolted to the back!) to take us over there, finding out that the nicely made roads around the anchorage at setting point give way to sand a few hundred yards past the village on the way to Cow Wreck. Still, the sand is fairly smooth, although I'm not sure how long the trucks last with the beating they must take.

The interior of Anegada is just dry scrub, with the occasional lizard, flamingo or one of the many donkeys that roam free.

Cow Wreck beach itself is just a bar and a couple of small bungalows on the beach. It's peaceful and utterly wonderful. I'd be happy to spend a couple of weeks there just doing nothing but read, walk, snorkel and sit at the bar watching the waves.

We did a bit of snorkelling in the wonderfully clear, sheltered water, then had some lunch and topped up our Red Stripe levels. I had the shark taco, which was pretty darn good. When I asked if it was local, the barman said that he catches them himself each morning. You can't get more local than that.

We spent the afternoon alternating a little more snorkelling with a little snoozing and a little more Red Stripe drinking before the cab arrived to take us back across the island to the boat.

Dinner was at Potters by the sea, another sand-floored beach bar restaurant with great fish. I skipped the lobster this time, feeling slightly sorry for the poor chaps after seeing them awaiting their fate in cages by the dinghy dock! We had a great time after dinner watching a group from Wisconsin trying to emulate the dancing of the waitress. We decided that generally, it's not just white men who can't dance. They were great fun though and it was a fantastic way to spend the last few hours of my 40's.

The pictures didn't turn out too well from this one. I guess the camera must have been affected by the rum I had as a night cap.

50 Not Out - Day 5. Off to Anegada

Anegada isn't a particularly long trip from North Sound, only about 12 1/2 miles but, because Anegada is very flat indeed, you can't see it so it feels like you're heading off into the unknown.

The guides all recommend arriving at Anegada around noon so that you have a good chance of seeing any coral heads in case you get you bearings wrong. We headed off from Leverick Bay at around 8:30 am to make sure that we managed that, having filled up again with water and managed to purchase ice from the two endearingly incompetent guys who run the fuel dock at Leverick Bay.

We had a great sail up to Anegada with a nice broad reach taking us up there in decent time. Missy was a bit concerned that every other boat was slightly to the West of us, but the waypoints and advice about the current from Walker Mangum's excellent Anegada navigation page proved to be correct and most of the other boats had to turn towards the entrance channel from some distance out.

Anegada gradually appears over the horizon trees-first. They're the only thing that is over 35' high. As you get a little closer, the trees get a little more defined and the water turns from this.














To this.














And then to this.




It really is the most stunning spot and we sat for some time just drinking in the colours (and the Red Stripes of course).

We were a little concerned about the water depth at the mooring here. At low tide we had all of 6" under the keel, but with no appreciable swell and a soft, sandy bottom, there wasn't much of an issue.


There are three restaurants on this side of Anegada: Neptune's Treasure; Potters, and the Anegada Reef Hotel. They all ask you to reserve your table *and* what you'd like to eat by 4pm so that they know how many people they're serving and what they need to throw on the oil-drum grills. They also tell you what time to show up. Our choice for the first evening was lobster at Neptune's Treasure.

Sitting at our table at the water's edge, watching the sunset, drinking wine and waiting for our lobsters to arrive, I realised that, to my surprise, it can actually get better than Leverick Bay.

Wow.

50 Not Out - Day 4. Bitter End to Leverick Bay

This was a really lazy day, even by our standards. Total distance to travel - about two miles across the sound.

So a little shopping for t-shirts and stuff at BEYC followed by the short trip across to Leverick Bay, where we'd booked a slip for the night to make a change from bobbing around on a buoy. Not much to report apart from that. We much preferred the Leverick Bay resort to Bitter End. It's still very very nice, but just a little less manicured. Just like us, really.

We were joined at the dock by one of the biggest boats we saw on the trip, Cracker Bay. Formerly Campbell Bay Very impressive. Oddly, we didn't see any of the guests actually leave the boat while they were there.

In the evening, while we were lazing back at the restaurant, chatting and drinking, I noticed the couple at the next table were having one of those very quiet but intense arguments that people have when they're in public and can't scream at each other. It seemed such a shame that in a beautiful place as this, they were so miserable. I did mention to Missy that it was a waste, because it doesn't get better in life than this, so they really should look around them and appreciate what they have.

The next few days were to prove me wrong though. I thought it didn't get better than North Sound, but then I'd never been to Anegada before.

50 Not out - Day 3. The Baths and North Sound

We headed off after a slightly delayed start waiting for a boat to clear the Marina Cay fuel dock. The pitching of the boat into the waves yesterday had caused the shower head to crash into the tap in the heads, causing us to fill the bilges with all our fresh water, so we couldn't head off without filling up.

Fortunately, we didn't have a terribly demanding day planned, just a quick motor across to the channel to visit the Baths on Virgin Gorda for lunch before heading to North Sound.

We'd missed the Baths in 2005, due to trying to drown ourselves by swimming to shore against wind and current. What was surprising on re-visiting the area was just how close into shore we actually were, given the difficulties we got into. It was probably less than 100 metres. This time, with the wind abating, it all looked very benign.

You can't take the dinghy into the shore at the Baths, because of the number of bathers, so you have to leave it on a floating rope a little offshore. In another one of my great decisions, I dropped Missy off on the left side of a pile of rocks before heading over to the right side to moor up so that she could wade ashore with the camera and all the gear.

What I hadn't realised was that the "pile of rocks" actually splits the beach completely into two with no easy way round. After puzzling for a while, I figured that Missy was smart enough to realise that we weren't going to be able to meet up down there so I headed up the marked path to the restaurant, arriving just in time to meet a somewhat miffed Missy. Oops.

Virgin Gorda has a lot of chickens. This one spent much of the time searching for crumbs between the restaurant tables. Perhaps someone should have mentioned the obvious dangers of becoming a chicken burger to her!


We felt obliged to make at least a token effort to spend sometime looking at the huge boulders and pools that make up the Baths, despite time moving on apace. They're actually pretty cool. Something else to re-visit next time.

We had hoped to sail up to North Sound, but the weather was changing somewhat and the winds were lighter and much more variable than on the trip up to Marina Cay, so we managed about a mile of constant trimming and flapping sails before giving up and motoring the rest of the way, lightweights that we are.

We almost had a minor disaster on trying to pick up a buoy at the Bitter End Yacht Club, when the boat hook twisted out of Missy's grasp and into the water. It hadn't crossed my mind until this point what a critical piece of of kit the boathook actually is. Fortunately, a passing dinghy from the yacht club saw us lose it and were able to swing round and pass the hook to us. It was actually quite a neat piece of sailing from them.

The lovely thing about North Sound is the sense of tranquility, because of the amount of shelter from the surrounding hills and reefs. It's more like being on a lake than at sea.

After getting ourselves organised and having a couple of beers, we headed off to the Bitter End resort for dinner. It's very, very pleasant, but not particularly our kind of place, feeling a little too much like a theme park for the wealthy for our liking. That being said, dinner in the pub was very pleasant and the drinks went down just as well as elsewhere. Another good day, all in all.

50 Not Out - Day 2. Upwind to Marina Cay.

We'd expected this to be our one fairly demanding sailing day of the trip. The prevailing winds in the BVI are from the east, and there's a knot or so of current drifting approximately north west. With the wind sticking at a little over twenty knots, we headed out of the bight at around 9:30am. The seas were a little calmer than the previous afternoon and, with two reefs in the main and the jib partly furled, things weren't actually too bad. We weren't making a huge amount of forward progress as we tacked up and down the channel, but Sunshine was very happy and we eventually motored into Marina Cay at about 3pm.

The last time we were here, things were a bit hair raising. As we prepared to pick up a mooring buoy, the cabin filled with smoke and the engine quickly lost power. I had to turn the engine off in case we were about to catch fire, which meant we weren't able to use the windlass to get the main anchor down, eventually getting the secondary out just before we ran out of water.

This time, thankfully, we motored serenely in, picked up the buoy at the second pass and were able to crack open a few relaxing Red Stripes without fizzing with adrenaline. It was much better this way!

At dinner at the restaurant, we had to take a picture of one of the not-quite-sturdy-enough-for-Woody chairs as a memento of the previous trip. "If you're going to fall, just fall...."

Missy was very disappointed to find that the blue-cheese burger isn't on their dinner menu. Ah well, another excuse to return.

50 Not Out - Day 1. Nanny Cay and Norman Island

It was very pleasant to throw back the shutters at 7:30 on Friday morning to be greeted by a view of green hills, masts and palm trees, so on went the t-shirt, shorts and flip-flops and away to get some milk for the coffee and some fruit juice to help us get the day under way.

Then off for breakfast at Gennakers restaurant next to the Horizon office before the seemingly endless paperwork to be sorted out. Then some retail therapy to get a few things (reefs, sunglass straps, something to try and stop the waterproof camera sinking like a stone). Sunshine was ready for us by 12:00, so we were able to check out of the hotel and get our stuff on board. After a terrific briefing from Georgina (English girl out there with one of the best jobs, ever) and getting all loaded up with provisions from Bobby's, we were able to get off the dock by 2pm as we'd hoped.

Georgina took us out of the marina and pointed the back of the boat at the fuel dock, before stepping away from the wheel and handing Sunshine over to me. At the time I was messing around with the dock ropes with my mind miles away, so it was a jolt back to reality when I realised I had to back close enough in to let her step off the boat without hitting the dock.

Having successfully negotiated this, we headed out the marina entrance and headed South towards Norman Island. With a strong wind and choppy seas, we motored the short distance, the only minor inconvenience was getting the dinghy from the bow to the stern. This would have been fairly straightforward in flat calm, but it was an early test with the boat pitching and rolling.

Still, an hour later we arrived in the Bight at Norman Island. Despite the strong wind, Missy managed to pick up a mooring buoy at the first attempt, Yay.

Then it was off to Pirates for the first painkillers and conch fritters of the trip before we headed back to the boat and crashed out exhausted.

50 Not Out - Day 0: The Longest Day

It seemed like March 6th went on forever. The flight to Antigua is at the relatively civilised hour of 11:15, so we didn't exactly have to get up in the wee small hours of the night to get to Gatwick on time, although we did have to give ourselves enough time to finalise the packing (Mainly consisting of removing stuff from the bags when we reminded ourselves how little of what we took last time we'd actually worn). AGM provided a very nice Mercedes to take us to the airport. We didn't have to worry about making small talk with the driver, because he barely paused for breath for the whole journey.

The baggage drop and security at Gatwick was relatively painless, apart from the Eastern European couple behind us in the security queue who seemed to have no concept of personal space and were bumping us constantly until I turned round and politely (no, really) told them to back off.

BA get a fair amount of stick these days, but (touch wood) compared to US airlines, they are pretty good. The trip down to Antigua was no exception to the last few BA flights I've taken. The food was OK, the seats comfortable, the attendents not too slow with the booze, and the movie selection broad.

I'm still scratching my head as to how The Coen brothers got so many awards for No Country for Old Men, though. What could have been a great, if violent film, dropped a bunch of threads about three quarters of the way through and sputtered to a pointless halt. But I digress...

We had a fair amount of time to wait in Antigua for our Liat flight to the BVI and so are grateful for "Billionaire Antigua-based Texan financier Alan Stanford"'s grandiose personal cricket ground across the road from the airport and the Sticky Wicket bar and restaurant that it contains. It was a very pleasant place to kill a few hours before returning to the airport.


Back at the airport, Liat were having problems with the aircraft (Not that they initially bothered to tell anybody). Eventually, after a couple of hours delay, they found a smaller aircraft, bounced a bunch of dismayed passengers who were hoping to get to St Martin that night and dropped the scheduled stop on the way to Tortola.

I'd called the taxi company who were meeting us on arrival to tell them we were going to be late, so there wasn't a problem when we arrived, although the fact that the first thing the driver asked was if we'd called the hotel to tell *them* that we'd be late made me worry. When we left the Nanny Cay Hotel at 6:00am on our previous trip, I remembered that the reception was in darkness and we'd slid our key cards under the door of the lobby.

It was 12:15am (4:15am body clock time) when we arrived at the hotel and our hearts sank when we saw that there wasn't a single light on in the place. Fortunately it turns out that there is a 24 hour security guy who saw us on the CCTV and was able to check us in. We had visions of spending our first night on the island sleeping on the beach.

As it was, we were able to crash into bed after being awake for 22 hours. We slept pretty well, oddly enough.

50 Not Out - Looming on the Horizon

Getting to 50 is always going to be a slightly traumatic experience. It takes a lot of self-delusion to convince yourself that you're young and hip - a lot more than I possess. After a short period of reflecting on the prospect shortly after my 49th birthday, I decided that the best way to deal with the situation was to focus on the positives and work on some of the negatives of increasing maturity.

Focussing on the positives is an easy thing to do. I count my blessings pretty much every day. I have a wonderful wife, a son who finally seems to be shaking off the teenage lethargy and becoming a fine young man, and of course a dog who manages to make me laugh out loud most days. We have a house that we're happy in and enough money coming in through the door to be able to get it looking the way we want to. We can also just about afford to run Moonshine, even if that means that the old Volvo has had to soldier on for a few more years than it would otherwise have had to.

The main negative that could be relatively easily dealt with has been a steadily expanding waistline caused by all the comfortable living, which led to a warning about blood pressure and cholesterol from the doc a couple of years go. So since October, Missy and I have both been working hard at the gym and swapping high calorie goodies for fruit and salads. We've both lost about 20lb since then and feel much fitter and healthier. With me being only four years younger than the age at which my father suffered his first heart attack, it's probably an important lifestyle change.

To celebrate the actual start of my second half century, there could only ever be one place to be. We loved our trip to the BVI in 2005, but missed out on visiting Anegada due to some unsettled weather. What better way could there be to mark a significant personal milestone than watching the sunset from a beach restaurant on one of the world's most beautiful islands , with a cocktail in one hand and locally caught lobsters on the grill.

So, on 6th March 2008, we headed off for ten days sailing the BVI. The most direct way of getting there is to Antigua with BA, so we also tacked on a couple of days there at the end of the trip to give ourselves a soft landing back to reality.

Oops.

I procrastinated too much this weekend, so didn't get to the marina until 1pm on Sunday afternoon. That meant that I had time to finish all the hull jobs - getting the anodes on, the prop polished, waxing the hull and getting the last coat of antifoul on - but I didn't get to check the mast electrics until after 3pm. It looks like I need to replace the steaming/deck light on the mast, which is badly corroded. Trouble is, by the time I worked that out, I hadn't left enough time to buy another one.

Moonshine is supposed to be back in the water on week commencing March 17th and I won't be able to get back down there until March 28th at the earliest, so the reason I spent money getting the mast lowered, making sure all the mast lights were fine, hasn't happened!

Darn it.

Ah well, BVI in three days, so mustn't grumble.

Elbow Grease

The number of days before Moonshine is due back in the water is rapidly reducing, so I had to shake off the winter blues and get myself down to Chichester to get her ready. Any work on the deck can wait until she's back in the water, but anything that's going to be close to or under water has to be done pretty much now.

The bottom was power washed when she came out, most of the sea life was blasted off. After two years in the water though, she was looking a bit sad and grubby.




I'd intended to start work at the beginning of February, but the usual inertia meant that it was February 16th when I actually started. However, after two weekends of hard graft, a liberal spattering of blue antifoul and bleeding fingers and knuckles, she now looks like this:





I'm very pleased with myself at the transformation. I wasn't really expecting to get such good results.

There are a few more jobs to be done. Another coat of antifoul on the rudder and the front of the keel. I need to check the mast electrics before it goes back on, and I want to fit a proper ladder at the back, but so far, so good!

High and Dry

Well, we had a call yesterday to say that Moonshine's out of the water, so it must officially be winter.

I'm champing at the bit to see her so that I can discover how much work we have to do before she can go back in again, but it's all busy, busy at the moment, so it looks like it will be at least two weeks before we get down there.

Anyway, the sea dawg will have to endure a few days like this:




Before she gets days like this:



On the bright side, we're only 25 days before the earliest sunset of the year, so it'll soon be spring :-)

Ready For Winter

Well, that's about it until March 2008. Moonshine's sails are at Arun Sails to be washed and repaired. I've been down and put in clean engine oil, the mast electrics have been disconnected, the water tank is empty, the bedding and crockery are waiting to go into the attic.

Today, Chris Holman is taking down the mast and tomorrow she's being lifted out of the water for the winter. Between now and March we need to get her polished, repainted and anti-fouled and do some general repairs to various holes and scrapes around the deck, plus replace the teak grab rails. We're going to be very busy, especially as we're re-doing the living room at home.

Our next sailing will be somewhat warmer. We'll be limin' in the BVI in March for a couple of weeks of conch fritters, lobster, sun, sea and too much rum. We've chartered this rather pretty Beneteau 323.



In a nice coincidence, she's named "Sunshine", so we should feel at home.

Dawg Heaven

Nothing to do with boats, but the first mate has had to work from the office recently, so the sea dawg has acquired a dog-walker for a couple of days a week.

She snoozes most of the time we're away, but now she gets woken up, whisked into the back of a Honda estate with eight other waggy, excited dogs, gets to run around the woods with her very own pack for a couple of hours, before being deposited home and snoozing until we get back.

I'm trying to work out what she must make of her new, exciting life. It must be like some doggy vision of paradise. Or does it seem like one of her dreams when she's fast asleep but twitching and woofing, presumably chasing cats and squirrels?

Smash and Grab.

We thought that the trip with Mark and Helen was probably the last of the season, but when Saturday dawns bright and sunny, what can you do?

Up at 8am, out by 10:00, on the boat by 11:15, out at the beginning of freeflow, a lovely sail down to Bembridge with the sun shining and an East wind giving us a very kind broad reach. We were the last fin keel boat into Bembridge at around 3:30pm. We had plenty of water under the keel, but the water was really streaming out at 2 hours after high water.

We rafted up against two very nice boats with very understanding couples who didn't mind a dappy boxer trampling all over the place and Clemmie was gambolling on the dunes in the sunshine by 4pm.

We had a couple of glasses of pink wine (Last of the summer wine?) and headed up the hill to St Helens for dinner and the rugby. Watching the rugby more in hope than expection, it was a very happy pair of us who headed back down the hill in the dark a few hours later. (Ha - the head torch wasn't so silly now, was it?).

Sunday was just as wonderfully warm and sunny, so we had a really lovely morning, fetching the papers, coffee and rolls in the sunshine, a walk on the beach and away by 11:30.

The wind wasn't quite as kind to us on the way back and we had to motor from a couple of miles West of East Head, but the sun was still shining, the sea was blue and it really felt like August. We scraped in at the very end of freeflow and were home for tea by 6pm.

One of the nicest weekends we've had. I guess the feeling that we were somehow cheating by being out there so unexpectedly made it all the sweeter.

Stolen Weekend.

Last year, we didn't manage to get out in Moonshine after the August Bank Holiday. Missy was recovering from surgery and the October weather was awful, I had the woodwork off for varnishing by mid month. This year, however, we've had two fantastic weekends to finish the season.

We'd arranged a weekend out with Mark and Helen some time ago for October 6th and 7th. I wasn't expecting much from the weather given the time of year, but it looks like 2007 will be remembered for the terrific weather at either end of the season and not much in the middle.

We travelled down on Friday evening (Ship at Itchenor, fish n chips x 2)to get things fettled so that we'd be ready to get out early, with Mark and Helen coming down early on Saturday. The ulterior motive was to get to Cowes in time to see the Rugby World Cup 1/4 final match against Australia.

We had a very pleasant sail over to Cowes with brilliant sunshine and the wind almost cooperating. From the East, which made things nice and calm, but with a few shifts making it hard to avoid the occasional gybe (mostly planned ones, but a couple of "oops" ones). I did cheat a bit, motoring for the last few miles to make sure we got to see some rugby.

Apple, Banana, Carrot, Desk, Elephant, Frog, Giraffe, Hotel, Iguana, Jellybeans, Kangol flat cap......I got sucked into Missy's favourite travelling game somehow. I'll never get those out of my memory now.

We just about managed to squeeze onto a pontoon at East Cowes. We had to reverse in and had about 3 metres of Moonshine alongside and 5 sticking out the front. I was going to suggest to the nice marina people that we should only pay 1/2 price, but they were already grumbling that they weren't making any money because it's now winter rates, so I thought I'd better not push my luck.

We actually got to see most of the second half of England's shock win against the Aussies at the Lifeboat Inn. (surprisingly good, I'm always a bit suspicious of any pub built in the last 100 years or so). It was very pleasant sitting in the sunshine on the terrace watching the boats go by and smirking about putting the Aussies out of the World Cup.

Dinner was, predictably, at the Folly. We took the Folly water bus down there for the first time, which was pretty cool. I'm not sure why, but the trip made eating down there feel something of an adventure. The Folly was busy, but the extremely efficient waitress found us a table while we had a beer on the terrace.

Clemmie got very spoiled with leftover ham and lamb, so much so that she wouldn't eat her kibble and was really rather ill on Sunday. Ooops, bad dog-parents.

The crew were a bit lethargic on Sunday morning. I'd showered and taken Clemmie for a walk into East Cowes to get a newspaper before I could rouse anyone else. Shocking behaviour. I wonder if bringing back the lash is an option?

I abandoned my plan of filling up with diesel because the fuel dock was busy, reasoning that we'd got enough fuel to get us home unless there was absolutely no wind and we had to motor the whole way, and the chances of that were so remote as to be laughable.

Anyway, we put into Gosport at about 2:45pm to fill her up, which was nice. We got to see the Spinnaker tower at close quarters and everything. The crew were very understanding about the whole thing and didn't spend the entire journey back giving me grief about it, oh no.

Anyway, after our slight detour into Portsmouth Harbour, we got back into Chichester just as free-flow started, so that was OK.

So, a hugely enjoyable, warm, sunny October weekend. It really did feel like we were getting something for nothing.

September Week IV - Home

Not much to report on the way back to Chichester. After a leisurely breakfast we headed out into the river, very conscious of the shiny big boats all around us and the ebbing tide. We felt that we were disturbing the peace with the engine, so we got the genoa up to give us some steering, turned the engine off and just drifted down on the tide.



We had just enough wind to get us home, although we had the engine on around Cowes to avoid a huge number of kevlar sails milling around. After that, it was pretty much like this all the way back to Chichester.


All in all, a great week of fairly undemanding sailing in pleasant weather. We got to Lymington, Newtown and Beaulieu for the first time before heading back, which means we've done most the "destination" places in the Solent now.

September Week III - A Spot of Yachting.

Lymington-Beaulieu is barely a sail at all, so we were able to spend the morning in Lymington. Missy needed some contact lens solution. (She found out the painful way that the bottle she'd brought along was contact lens cleaner, not saline) and we needed to order some flowers for my mum's birthday on the Thursday.

I'd always mentally got Lymington down as a dull, grey town, so was surprised to see that it's colourful and bustling. It took me a while to work out that the only two times I've been there previously were in the evening out of season in April.

I said that Lymington - Beaulieu is barely a sail at all. This about sums it up:


The Beaulieu River is surrounded by the New Forest and is stunningly tranquil and beautiful. It's been owned by the Montagu family for centuries and development has been kept to a minimum, although Bucklers Hard was once a major shipbuilding centre when ships were made of oak, and was active as recently as WWII when parts of the Mulberry floating docks used in the Normandy landings were built there.

Once you get past the spit at the river entrance, channel markers become decidedly low-tech.



The marina is the opposite to Lymington, it's small and peaceful. On second thoughts they're not exactly opposite, they're both similarly and frighteningly expensive.

We headed over to the Master Builder pub at Bucklers Hard for a couple of drinks before we ate. On a calm and warm late summer evening, there can't be many nicer places to sit and listen to your dog beg for treats.



We even had the treat of encountering Tom Cunliffe holding court at the bar. Tom's probably the nearest thing to a British sailing celeb that we have. Apparently he'd been doing "A spot of yachting" that day, which I guess we were doing too. His boat, Westernman, is moored just down the river and is really rather beautiful.


Despite appearances, she's only ten years old, being built for Tom in the style of a Bristol pilot cutter.

All in all a very pleasant day indeed, although we did spend more time in the pub than actually sailing, but you can't be an intrepid adventurer every day.

Oh, and we actually cooked on the boat for once. Pasta, meatballs, salad and a very nice red.

September Week II - Cowes to Lymington

The weather really improved on Tuesday. The contrast with our last trip West of Cowes in July (ripped genoa, broken traveller) was stark.

It's not really a full day's trip to Lymington from the Folly, although it was nice and relaxing. It did mean that we had time to stop off in Newtown Creek for lunch. There was barely a breath of wind by now, and we had to put a tarpaulin up to shade Clemmie, but it was beautiful and there was even a spare mooring buoy to pull up to, so we didn't even have to break our duck on anchoring.




If we didn't have Clemmie on board we could have stayed all day, but we made the short trip to Lymington for the night. We sailed most of the way, but as we approached Lymington, we came across a matched racing fleet of Beneteau 40.7's, doing the most weirdly complex course. (Up/Down/Up/Down past the first buoy/Across/etc.

With the wind getting up and not much chance of predicting what they were going to do, we got the sails down and motored around them and on into Lymington, following the Yarmouth Ferry in.

We didn't have the greatest of berths at the Berthon marina, being right up against the wall. It was convenient, but a bit industrial, all concrete and cranes. It won't be our first choice next time we head over there. The Town Quay looks more fun, although we'd have to be there fairly early to avoid rafting a long way out.

First choice for dinner was the recently renovated Ship Inn. Trouble is, it's not dawg-friendly and the place is a long way up itself. Overly primped and preened, with bored-looking waiting and barstaff. We declined the opportunity to sit outside and, after a quick recce up the hill, found the Kings Head. The sign in the window saying "Dogs Welcome" was reassuring and we were very happy in a traditional local boozer with decent food and beer and friendly staff.

September Week. I - Chichester to Cowes.

Not quite a a week, more than a long weekend, but at last we had some decent weather and a few days off to use it.

Reasons to buy a boat - 103

If you stay at home, you may be tempted to change the brake pads on your car to save money.



You get filthy and tweak a muscle in your back. It's worth paying someone else.

But anyway, we travelled down to the boat on Sunday, intending to head off to the Folly for dinner. It was supposed to be F3-4 according to the board at the marina. That's not what it felt like as we rounded Chichester Bar at about 3pm and realised that we'd have the wind on the nose and a nasty 1 metre chop for the five hours or so to Cowes.

Missy looked awfully relieved when I suggested that we turned straight around and had fish and chips at the Ship instead!

Our second attempt was much smoother. We still had a decent breeze on Monday morning, so kept the main reefed down, but the sea was much flatter and the sun started to shine, so it turned out to have been a good decision.


I was feeling so confident that I decided that I was going to sail down to the Folly with the wind behind us. Fortunately I remembered the chain ferry before we got into the river. There would have been much chaos and panic on Moonshine if it pulled out in front of us, so the sails came down pretty quickly!

We parked on the visitor's pontoon about twenty minutes before the water taxi started up, so Clemmie had to cross her legs for a while, since she's still not prepared to wee on anything but solid, dry land, preferably with a nice patch of grass.

Dinner was great. A huge piece of ham hock for Missy, which was big enough for Clemmie to get the leftovers as a treat in each meal for the next three days.