Ashdown bank holiday cruise to Cherbourg

By Stephanie Thornton

When our beloved commodore asked me, before we set out, to write up the bank holiday cruise to Cherbourg I agreed, with quiet confidence that the trip would be as packed with memorable incident as those described in earlier newsletters.

And so it was. Unfortunately, much of what happened on our boat is either inexplicable or unrepeatable…

For example: I cannot possibly tell you how (or why) the VHF problem that took Blue Scherzo off the air led to recursive anxieties about the antics of Giant Squid mid channel - fantasies that may affect one of our crew for the rest of his life (you know who you are!).

Nor is it remotely possible to relate why (or how) Jenny and I found ourselves kneeling in the engine room of a Gin Palace and trying to respond "appropriately" to the information that:

(a) this Sunsail wonder consumes a litre of diesel per mile during its 4 hour transits to Cherbourg;

(b) that it is impossible to do any sort of navigation at the speed thus generated, so it is 'much the best to set waypoints, retire below and let the autohelm get on with it' - a remark to be borne seriously in mind next time a clump of plastic with a bow wave and serious wake seems not to have noticed our existence;

(c) most frightening of all, and proudly spoken, was the news that the vibration makes it impossible to pour a Gin & Tonic at that speed, but it doesn't matter, because drinking it risks the loss of all one's teeth! And we thought the motorboat brigade were just averse to hardship! Only 4 hours to Cherbourg?? Does the man know what he's missing?

As navigator on Whisper's outward trip (thank you, David) I turned in a performance that I am seriously considering sending to the Guinness Book of Records for slowest possible passage to Cherbourg. However, I was outclassed there by Blue Scherzo: much slower, and very much cleverer. Gerry's first cross channel passage with her was a triumph of seamanship and wisdom. Having declared (very wisely, given my misadventures) a reluctance to enter Cherbourg in the dark, he sailed where we motored and arrived in perfect order in the dawn. (Actually about 0100 ed)

Impetuously oblivious to such wisdom, I urged the longsuffering crew of Whisper in the general direction of several quite big rocks till we found the East entrance. Le Petit Rade was a blast, with the fixed green dipping over the harbour wall. But could I find the marina entrance? No, no, a thousand times no… Having left my glasses in the carpark at Chichester didn't help, but was less of a handicap than my obsession with the green that should have been to the left of 'our' green, but which might have been under some French fisherman's coat…

So: hats off to skippers who do this stuff effortlessly, and 5 gold stars to Gerry!

Cherbourg: can we forget the tank with children scuba diving in Place Napoleon? Lateral thinking! That tank was familiar (I checked the towtruck numberplate): it used to tour Normandy with a sad and strangely skinny shark called Mesanie, till Brussels stopped all that. Whaddya do with a tank after that? A creative solution. I just hope they didn't eat the shark…

Anxiety over the fate of Mesanie abated when there were no shark steaks / soups on the menu at La Taverna: just lots of good food and company, and a deal of tale and kit swapping. Lovely.

And despite the crew's near side trip to the Bastille for invading a French Port Militaire the night before, David allowed me to skipper Whisper back to Chichester. And here, one has to say, is where the Ashdown SC is head, shoulders, hips, knees and ankles above anything else out there. Its focus on teaching and encouraging skill development is awesome. The willingness of owners to let others join in and have a go is really something special, perhaps we should celebrate it more often.

After a few words of wisdom, David left me in charge of Whisper and crew, he went to sleep! (Though it is possible he was on tranquillisers).

Light winds gave us a slow passage out of Cherbourg (especially for Whisper), since, overimpressed by lunchtime stories of lightning strikes on foredeck crew, I had put up too conservative a headsail. The frustrated crew watched the other boats disappear over the horizon… a headsail change later and at least we kept station (albeit several miles back) with the fleet. By 2am it was back to the engine, and home.

What I haven't conveyed at all is the wonderful camaraderie on Whisper, the humour, the energy and the constructive support between people. I learned a lot, and made new friends. What more could one ask?

This was my first cross-channel trip with the Ashdown SC. I set out with high expectations - which is usually a recipe for disappointment. But the trip was much more fun, much better than anticipated. I hope it's the first of many!