Last Glimpse of Guernsey and the Channel Islands

It was hard to leave the Channel Islands. Beautiful, rugged, a glimpse of the past. Part of the UK, but not of England.

St Peter Port



Havelet Bay



Sark

The tangle of rocks around the islands of Herm and Jethou need careful navigation; swift tides press the unwary onto their sharp pinnacles. Once clear, the Big Russel channel is quickly crossed, before the rocks lurk menacingly again.

There are no cars on Sark. The island rises vertically from the sea. Small coves, and bays, surrounded by cliffs, give some shelter and anchorage. Access is a steep climb up hundreds of winding steps to the cliff top. Sark's feudal laws still prohibit divorce; and the eldest son inherits all. The roads are empty and un-metaled. You are more likely to meet a waddle of ducks, or a horse-drawn trap, than even a tractor. Houses, are discretely set back, their gardens a delight. Life (appears) easy, slow, and laid back.



Squeezed in between the Isle of Brecqhou and Sark itself is the little cove, Harve Gosselin, with a peaceful mooring just out of reach of the 7knot tide that rips through the tiny gap and it's rocky entrance. It looked idyllic. The view down from the cliff tops was awesome. Waking in the morning to a thick, pea-souper of fog, unable to see any of the cliffs, or the rocks just a few metres away was not pleasant. Thank goodness for a good radar, and electronic charting!

Leaving the islands in the early morning sun we headed NW. The wind picked up through force 3 to force 4, then 5. It was great sailing. Approaching the first of the shipping lanes the fog came back. The radar showed several shipps hidden from our view, and all close. A quick All Ships call on the VHF to share our position, course and speed, saw two ships kindly alter course, and cross our stern.

The fog dissipated. The sun came out, and we romped across the last 30 miles into Salcombe.

Dolphins Guide Us In

It was airless inside the deep, red granite walls, of St Helier Marina, as we waited for the tide to turn. Then a relief to get underway. The jagged rocks of the Violet bank looked menacing as we hoisted full sail and aimed SE for Granville. The rocks released another hidden, and unwelcome, suprise as we passed. Flies. Thousands of flies. The boat was covered. We were covered.

Dolphins played alongside, as we furled sails, and made our turn across the sunken rocks, into Granville. Leaping ashore, Luke secured the boat with one hand, and grabbed the hose with the other. From stem to stern, the water cannon pursued the plague of “black spots” 'till all were washed into the scuppers.

The tides are big here, only in the Bay of Fundy, Canada, are they bigger. We were here on springs, so careful planning was a must. From the safe haven of the Marina, locked in by a granite wall, we watched as the tide fell a full 30ft, and a hidden world of rocks, gullies, sand and shingle emerged.

The Vieux (Old) fortified town of Granville, with its cobbled streets sits high on the escarpment. Its classic, old French, an architecture a delight. Tonight, perhaps in honour of our arrival, there is a concert there. Now where did I put that clean shirt......

Finally the skies cleared. No more the museums of Cherbourg. No more perfumed beers. Farewell to “Pirate Pete's” bar. It was down “the Race” with a SW force 5 churning the waters into a boiling caldron as we swept passed the island of Alderney.

Grand Amfroque, Tourtenay, Roustel and Brehon Tower, the marks of the Little Russel, slipped by as we dropped the main and motored on the last of the SW going tide into St Peter Port, Guernsey.

The number 7A bus only costs £1 a head, and circles anticlockwise around the island. Its a great way to see the rocky inlets, and find hidden beaches, all still guarded by the deserted German defences – a cold reminder of the past. We hopped off the bus and walked the SW corner back to the boat. The cliff path winds around the neatly kept lawns, and electrically operated gates surrounding the the houses of the well to do, then drops dramatically down, then rising, then falling revealing stunning bays and fabulous views.

The forecast is good tomorrow. Perhaps that secluded bay, or maybe Jersey, or Iles Chausey....

Hunt for the Sun

It was a grey afternoon as we slipped out of Portsmouth – but dry. Newtown Creek was as welcoming as ever. A headsail reach had brought us down on the tide and we were snug on a mooring. An early night. A dawn rise, and we were on our way west to find the sun.

Ideas of the Baltic had been shelved – the weather there as bad as here, but colder.

Sitting on the tide the Needles flashed by. Swanage glowed in the early morning sunshine. It's a long time since I enjoyed the old town of Weymouth, infamous for being the port where the great plague entered the country, but little has changed. The sun was shining, the sky had big patches of blue. Sipping a well earned pint the barmaid told us of torrential rain in Portsmouth, and the floods in Littlehampton. We smiled, and had another pint.

Our second dawn awakening and, as the sun crept over the cliffs of the Jurassic Coast, we motored out across the Olympic race courses, and headed south. It was Luke's first cross-channel. A blustery northerly had us romping across to Cherbourg, where Pete took our lines as we tied -up along side Stormvogel.

Tomorrow we go to Paris.............

The Solent is at its best now. The sun has come out of hibernation; the kids are still in school; the place is empty – perfect.

So, making best use of the opportunity, we sailed up Chichester Harbour to Northney Marina and the Portsmouth Sailing Clubs rally and first BBQ of the year. Sausages were cremated, chops fared little better, but it was a great excuse for a beer, a glass of wine, and some great sailing, in good company. Leaving Northney Avocette headed down the Solent for some crew training in preparation for the trip to the Baltic. A great reach down to Newtown Creek, then up the Beaulieu River, out around the Needles to Freshwater Bay, before heading back into the Solent, Newtown Creek (again), and back to Portsmouth – a great couple of days.

Throw in a couple of races in the Victory Class (one design classics), and it was back to Chi Hbr. this time with Dad, to drop the hook off Itchenor, an idyllic anchorage, with a good pub and a friendly sailing club.

The planned departure date is now the 7th June. I still have space if you would like to join me, just drop me an email. It would be great to see you.

2012 The Olympic Year - and new challenges

It's been a long cold winter (for England). It seemed to start when I arrived back in the UK last July. Grey skies and tumbling temperatures made for hard work during the winter refit.

An escape to the mountains was called for, and Passo Tonale, in Italy, provided some of the best snow conditions I have enjoyed in a long while. Blue skies, sunshine and packed powder - awesome - with great night skiing (complete with free Gluhwein), and fresh powder on the last day. Perfect!

Delivering an Oceanus 42CC, Odyssey of Truro, from Falmouth to the Tower of London was a fun break. So too were a couple of weekends onboard Condor as committee boat for the Warsash Spring series. The entertainment kindly being supplied by one skipper who "parked" his yacht on the spit at the Hamble entrance. Nice balance on just a fin & bulb! How lucky too, that the wind died. Four hours either side of low water it was blowing 30kts!

The Autohelm hydraulics, and Gyro Compass, both packed-up at the end of the trip back from the Azores, so had to be replaced. The propeller too had come to the end of its life.

Now choosing the correct propeller is a Black Art. Lots of discussion, careful calculations, and sound advice from Darglow Marine Engineers suggested going for a 20" Featherstream to replace the worn-out 18" Maxprop. Launch time came, and with great expectancy, I nudged her into gear, and slipped out of Southsea Marina, bound for our mooring in Portsmouth Harbour.

The sound like a Harrier jump-jet hovering over the mast, the pull to starboard on the wheel, the stern being sucked down burying the bottom brackets of the hydrovane, were all signs that we had got it wrong! Wrong big time!

A telephone call to Chris at Darglow, and help was at hand. They couldn't have been more supportive or helpful. They ordered a new 18" Maxprop, cut the taper, and posted it down to me in a little under two weeks.

A lift-out and hold in the slings over lunch, and the props were changed over.

All is now well - except for the weather. A shake-down cruise to France looks like being a trip towards the West Country, as SE/S winds bring more rain to the South Coast of England. On the bright side, the weather men are saying that "more normal" temperatures are due in a week or two. Lets hope so, then I can head upto the Baltic for new adventures.

Winter Maintenance Jan-Mar 2012

We've had some pretty bleak weather this year, but it has, at least, been dry. The boat was lifted out at Southsea Marina and work started, slowed up to almost a stop in the freezing conditions, but has now kicked into gear. The target re-launch date is the 20 March, so if you fancy a sail in the summer, why not give a hand now........