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By Gerry Raby
In the darkest depths of winter I thought it might be good to recall those halcyon days of summer with a write up of the barbeque cruise….better late than never!
Saturday
Up with the lark (well 7:30 anyway) to fit a remote gas switch. This entailed fitting the remote unit by the gas bottle, running a cable round to the galley, drilling a hole for the switch and fitting it. Obviously plenty to go wrong there, but for once the job just fell into place and was completed as Sophie, age 5, Piers, age 7, Andrea, over 21 (but only just) and Kim, of an indeterminate age, arrived on the ferry.
Once the gear had been stowed and the crew had been briefed, we slipped, and made our way down the waters of Portsmouth harbour. Rounding Gilkicker, we headed into Stokes Bay to drop anchor for lunch, a pleasant sun-bathed and relaxed affair.
Bearing in mind the Bruce anchor, that came with the boat, had never set properly, and relied on copious quantities of chain being played out, I had replaced it with a 35lb CQR but had never tested it. I am delighted to say that Blue Scherzo was as immoveable as the landmark behind us! Weighing it was interesting as a 35lb anchor attached to a quantity of chain is more exercise than I normally do in a year. Still no problem to a fit young man like me (no sniggers please).
Shortly afterwards Piers and Sophie discovered my pirates hook, supplied by Mr Ken-wood, (ask me about it if you don't understand) further enhancing my reputation as a pirate. We tacked up the Solent, rounding Bramble bank, and had a cracking sail in a westerly force 3/4 to Yarmouth. A bright dad had decided to bring some fishing line with him which was trailed out the back. It must have been out for at least 5 seconds before Piers KNEW he had caught a fish. Following absolute guarantees from Piers, Kim obediently reeled in the line to find a HUGE invisible fish on the end! Exercise repeated numerous times!
At Yarmouth we negotiated the barricade of 2 Harbour Master dorys who seemed disappointed that they couldn't turn us away, as Doh had booked us in at Hales Boatyard. On arrival I was informed that Opalescence would slip out so that we could go inside, and she could go outside of us. At that stage I didn't understand why a 34 ft yacht would want to go outside a 32ft yacht but I soon understood when approaching the mooring to discover the gap was 31 ft. Whilst trying to negotiate this, at the crucial moment, there was a cry from a small voice below. "The toilet is overflowing". Timing……it's an art!
I would not describe the mooring as "text book". If we were parallel to the boat inside of us our pulpit would do some damage to the pushpit of the boat in front of us. However, with some inventive angles and more string tied to other boats than there is in a string factory, we were in for the night.
Following dinner, we were invited onto Taransay Mhor for an after dinner drink. Much merriment, tales of tooth abscesses and the miracle healing powers of Shrub ensued. I retired late and replete!
Sunday
I was expecting Piers and Sophie to be up earlier than a lark with insomnia but it seems we had worn them out the day before, so we had a lie-in until about 8:00. We breakfasted and enjoyed a good shower in the facilities over the bridge.
As we weren't slipping until noon I had asked for some volunteers the night before to winch me up the mast so that I could fit some new wind instruments. Duly, 3 volunteers cranked me up the mast and supplied me with bits in a bucket when needed. It never is an easy job for me up my mast and it seems I end up there more often than most! Why is that?
Job done, and with the rest of the fleet disappearing from below me, (perhaps they didn't relish blood on the decks if I got it wrong) I was down on terra firma by 11:50 an hour and three quarters after going up. I was happy that the job was done, but not so pleased by the sensation between my legs (that shroud was really in the wrong place).We slipped our moorings and entered into a sun drenched, sparkling Solent. With a gentle breeze from behind, we rescued the spinnaker from its locker in the forepeak and having made a hash up with the bits of string, released it to fill in front of us, increasing our speed to 5.5 knots.
When we got to Thorness Bay, we dropped the sails and gave the anchor another bath. Following another pleasant lunch, the dinghy was blown up and a floating line trailed astern, so Kim, Piers and Sophie could go in for a swim. Those of us not suffering from either lunacy or a delusion that the water would be in anyway approaching a sensible temperature stayed firmly on board, despite the insistence that the water was "lovely".
Following the retrieval of the water babies, we were treated to the spectacle of powerboat racing with the accompanied jets of water from the stern, and also the noise of the helicopters buzzing the fleet, doing their best to keep up with the boats. When all the excitement had died down we retrieved the anchor and chugged our way up to Cowes. I'm convinced the powerboats could have gone round the UK in the time it took us to get to The Folly.
Having moored outside Taransay Mhor we assembled the barbeque, food, drink and entertainment for the evening. The entertainment consisted of a line of rope to make a swing on a tree, and a boules set. It's interesting to see the psychology of the adult males eyeing the kids on the swing and waiting for their chance to "have a go" and working out how they can get the thing to "go faster". Soon enough they got their chance and a good time was had by all. When darkness fell, folks either returned to their boats or the hardened party goers continued the merriment in The Folly. It was really nice not to have to get the ferry back over to the pontoons as Doh had booked us in on the pub side. We were invited, again back on Taransay Mhor, which was above and beyond the call of duty bearing in mind Colin and Sandy had been the hosts the previous night!
I retired even more replete than the previous night!
Monday
Piers and Sophie must have been even more tired and got up even later than on Sunday. I deserved a significantly serious hangover but am pleased to report that I felt just a little "delicate". Showers and breakfast over, Kim and Andrea entertained friends from the island. Having been threatened with more charges if we didn't slip by 12:00, we hot footed it out of there at 11:59. At the entrance to Cowes we gently gull-winged down the Solent until Ryde Middle, when the wind died. We started the noisy mainsail and made our way back to our mooring in Spider Lake.
One last treat awaited the kids. We dropped the dinghy over the side and they went for a spin. They looked like they had a good time. I wish I had had a camera but will have to make do with the great picture in my mind. The Skipper, Kim instructing the crew, Piers and Sophie, each with an oar in their hand, going round and round in ever decreasing circles. Suddenly there was the cry, "Daddy, daddy, we're going to hit that boat," as if they were going to sink it with the dinghy.
Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and at just after 5pm we were saying our goodbyes before getting into our cars and returning, weary, but contented, homeward bound. My thanks to Kim, Andrea, Piers and Sophie for being so much fun. Also, thanks to Doh for organising the weekend and to Colin and Sandi for their hospitality. Finally, thanks to those who winched me up the mast (I hope your backs mend soon).
( Editor's note - something for those of us not in the know to think about - the connection between sailing, tooth abscesses and Shrub- is there one?)