A weekend in the Solent from the novice perspective

By Ian Green

apologies for any incorrect or inappropriate terms.

An easier than expected journey down saw me arrive at the appointed slipway slightly early which turned out to be fortuitous as my powers of observation were to prove somewhat lacking. My brain still slightly pickled from an unexpected and unplanned Friday evening out failed to negotiate the required leap of faith to connect the name "BLUE" Scherzo with the "BLUE" hulled boat moored to the pontoon, despite the fact that there were only two yachts anywhere in sight. My excuse is that my low resolution printout of Gerry's directions clearly showed a vessel with a white hull!., damn computers! Following a call to Gerry even the sight of a madly waving man in the cockpit of the blue vessel initially failed but did eventually succeeded in gaining my attention.

The crew of Mark, Janine, Andrew and myself assembled with Gerry and discussed the options. It turned out that we would be sailing alone this weekend as illness had caused the withdrawal of the accompanying boat. The consensus was that we should head down towards Lymington to take advantage of the fine if chilly conditions and spring tide. This way we could change our plans should a certain novice crewmember need to visit Chunder city to be ill.

I had had to confess that my previous and first trip out with Ashdown on Fizzgig had exposed a worrying 300° East variation in the calibration of my stomach Vomit-ometer. While everyone else had been registering "a little choppy" I was reading "Cape Horn Force 10" and after an hour or so suddenly found myself re-evaluating the decision to have partaken of hot Pastie and Tea as it reappeared and promptly vanished over the side. I would like to think I had found myself on the leeward side of the boat by my own skill and forethought, however I strongly suspect I had been subtly manoeuvred into position by those of greater experience.

Gerry suggested I could be as ill as I wanted - as long as it wasn't below and we cast off in the fine winter sunshine. The initial stages offered the male elements of the crew the opportunity to view the Naval Dockyard where a couple of British and a visiting French Frigate were moored close to HMS Warrior which emphasised how large the Warrior is even by modern standards. At the mouth of the estuary we turned to starboard and off down the Solent at a brisk pace.

We took turns at the helm and I remarked at how different the tiller felt to the wheel on Fizzgig and encountered what appears to be a bone of contention in the Sailing arena. At this stage however I can't possibly throw my glove in either camp. I did however find it quite tricky with the tiller not to have the bow zig-zagging all over the show with overcompensation. At this point I ably demonstrated my grasp of nautical terminology by asking if someone else would like to drive.

We made excellent time and arrived off Lymington earlier than expected which prompted Mark to remark how nice it would be to see the Needles in such fine conditions. Initially reluctant Gerry was however intrigued by the idea and promptly vanished below to consult charts and almanacs.

Minutes later he reappeared and suggested that it wasn't such a bad idea providing we were all happy to continue. A brief discussion ensued and we altered course slightly and continued on toward the Channel.

Approaching the Needles in bright sunshine was a fine sight and also demonstrated how disorientating it can be at sea for the beginner and how important the charts are. The issue concerns the Shingles bank that lurks off to the apparently "safe" side of the Needles channel (well it looked safer than the jagged side to me). Approaching from the Solent end the bank is marked by an East Cardinal buoy - ok there is safe water to the East of it. Now without looking at the chart exactly which way is East? hmmm, now we are heading….., and ,….. hmmmm and…… pass the chart so I can orientate myself, which presumably is ok so long as there is some sort of landmark you can see. Carefully we sailed the safe channel and past the lighthouse which gives the perfect demonstration to the novice of an occulting light and round the West Cardinal at the end of the bank. The odd thing here was that without seeing a South or North marker (or did I miss them altogether! Dohhhh!) I found it was quite tricky to visualise in my mind where the bank was without referring to the chart.

Rounding the Cardinal marking the limit of the obstruction we came back on the far side of the bank. Of course at this point the wind decided to take a break, possibly for a Kit Kat or maybe just to be irritating, who knows. As a result our progress back up felt us to be barely moving, although passing marker buoys suggested our movement over the ground was faster than our mortal senses indicated.

An hour or so later we arrived outside Lymington where we made our way past the local ferries in the narrow channel and eventually found our allotted berth on pontoon B. I say eventually simply because our berth number of 4 initially did not appear possible on a short pontoon who's first identifiable position was a whopping 64, the pontoon simply did not look long enough, however just as we were about to turn with the Harbour wall looming number 4 miraculously appeared and Gerry had us tied up in a jiffy (the boat that is).

While we are on the subject of ferries I was rather surprised by the performance of these beasts of the sea. While visually they appear to possess all the grace and agility of Bernard Manning on a big night out they actually move with a pace more in keeping with Lindford Cristie and I was impressed by how quickly they could loom up on you like some crazed Destroyer bearing down on an unsuspecting U boat. Gladly we had no problems avoiding them and they glided serenely past.

Sunday saw us sailing back in light winds so Gerry decided to liven things up a bit by staging a man overboard situation. With an elaborate cover story organised he vanished below. Minutes later he emerged forward via the forepeak hatch and promptly threw himself over the side. Well not actually himself, but rather an effigy in the form of fender and bucket. The crew was to decide on the course of action. We did our best but it took two or three passes and several minutes too long before we retrieved the "victim". The main reason for this was that we attempted to sail the boat back resulting in even a small misjudgement leaving us too far from the "body" to retrieve it. Gerry counted himself lucky not to have thrown himself over by mistake. We repeated the exercise but this time we dropped the sails and used the engine to manoeuvre which was far more successful from the victim's perspective.

The exercise proved some serious points. In water that cold the minutes pass quickly so it's a good idea to practice now and then. It was also important to assign someone to watch the victim while the rest of the crew deal with the work, as even in calm conditions such a small object can be difficult to see and keep track of while busy manoeuvring the boat.

Passing the dockyard on final approach we were suddenly overcome by an ominously dark cloud and moments later were being assailed by freezing sleet and swirling wind and rain which made for a slightly uncomfortable return home. Fortunately it wasn't long before it blew over and the sun returned.

Thanks are due to everyone on board for their good company and a most enjoyable weekend's sailing.