Date: February 03-04 2007 Boat: FizzgigTrip: Chichester; Gunwarf Keys; Chichester;Days: 2
Skipper: John Alden
Crew: David Bennett, Jane, John Anstice
Right: A Hallberg Rassy races into Chichester:
The plan for the boat handling weekend was to spend most of Saturday picking up buoys and pontoon bashing before heading off to meet Blue Scherzo at Gunwarf Keys in Portsmouth in the shadow of the infamous Spinnaker tower.
We found a suitable long and clear pontoon around Itchenor to practise coming alongside and took turns in helming and crewing. In particular it is not the actual handling of the boat that is the most significant factor - it's the decisions taken about the approach that can make the difference between a nice easy gentle stop and a last minute abort to avoid a thump. Not that anyone had to perform such an abort. In the perfect conditions everyone brought the boat alongside in a slow and controlled manner.
We had a gentle wind blowing us onto the pontoon and small tide against our direction of approach to start with, however by the time it was my turn the tide had turned and our little circuit would mean I would be coming alongside with the tide rather than against, making it more difficult to stop the boat. John pointed this out, but as the tide was only gently running with us I decided to to continue because I wanted to be forced to use a touch of reverse to see what happens. Sure enough despite coming in slowly the boat was not going to stop unless either I used some reverse motor or the crew stopped us with the lines. As we came alongside I applied a small burst of reverse and the boat stopped and the crew stepped ashore and secured with no fuss. However as DB pointed out, the burst of reverse had the effect of slightly nudging the bow away from the pontoon - fine in these calm conditions but with a stronger tide and more power required to stop the boat, the bow may have swung away and prevented the crew from stepping ashore. I guess I should have had the rudder in position ready to try to counter the swing.
Next it was picking up a buoy. The tip here was to observe how boats of similar size and type were lying in relation to their buoys - the direction and to which side of the bow the buoy was lying, and then if possible approach from this direction. As always it seems that getting the speed right is critical, too slowly and the boat may drift past on tide or wind, but too fast will require some reverse and the inevitable prop wash effect, probably fine if you know the boat well but not easy for the novice or in an unfamiliar boat.
These weekends are of great benefit, to me at least, as I retain far more information from 'doing things' than I do from reading about them. I think we could probably all think of the factors to consider from the comfort of our armchairs, but in the heat of the moment with other boats milling about and numerous distractions, crew to organise etc its not so easy to remember everything. But by doing, and watching that buoy drift tantalisingly out of reach of the boat hook because you approached from the wrong angle its more likely you will remember next time.
After lessons are over we sail on to Gunwarf Keys via the Dolphin barrier gap. The entry to Gunwarf is slightly tricky. Yachts are advised to call the Harbour Master and ask for permission to cross the main channel at Ballast. This is because of the car ferries that can suddenly emerge from the terminal which is right next door and the Fast Cat service which docks just the other side of Gunwarf. We gain permission and have just started to cross when John advises the helm to turn around and return to Ballast. Here is another lesson - my ear and mind are not yet tuned to the radio. Although the HM had given us permission to cross, a few moments later one of the ferries advised that they were about to leave and asked if Fizzgig had heard their message - well I hadn't, but fortunately John had. The thing is that its actually quite difficult in the failing evening light to see the entrance to Gunwarf from Ballast on the other side of the channel. However after the ferry departed we crossed without incident and found our way into the little marina.
Gunwarf is crowded around with restaurants and bars and of course overshadowed by the Spinnaker tower which looks quite impressive bathed in its purple night lights. Its a shame that this landmark has to be mocked and ridiculed having joined The Dome and Wembley stadium among others on the growing list of bungled projects. We settle in for a few drinks while we wait for Blue Scherzo to arrive, then troop off ashore for some food. Unfortunately it proves difficult to find anywhere that can cater for 10 at this hour, but eventually the Tapas joint agrees that we can have a table in an hour, so we all troop back to BS for some more pre-dinner drinks.
I like Tapas but for a table of 10 its actually a little impractical. First everyone has to choose 3 dishes - and hopefully we don't all go for the same ones. Then when they arrive everyone has to remember what they asked for as the table piles high with dishes it gets tricky to actually get hold of what you want which frustrated a few, mind you it wasn't anything that a few bottles of wine couldn't sort out. Following the meal we all piled aboard Fizzgig for a nightcap of more wine, and by now most of Fizzgig's crew had shall we say, had a few. By 2am myself and DB were giggling like a couple of schoolboys over the most dreadful jokes culminating in 5 minutes of uncontrolled laughter over an appallingly bad story about a Zebra. Fortunately the alcohol overdose and late hour meant a rapid decent to sleep on what was to be a very cold night. I awoke at about 5am with my feet freezing against the bulkhead in the rear cabin and thanked God that I had packed some headache pills.
The shower facilities at Gunwarf were new, spacious and clean, definitely some of the best to be found around the Solent. The only negative point about them being that they are hidden away inside the complex behind the Spinnaker Tower and one almost needs to resort to charts and GPS to find them. Certainly had the office not been staffed they would have been difficult to find. Sunday saw us have a leisurely breakfast of sausage and bacon sandwiches before leaving on a gentle sail back to Chichester during which we did some heave to and Man Overboard practise which was particularly worthwhile. 
Date: June 12 - 20 2004 Boat: Summer SongTrip:Chichester; Cherbourg; St Vaast; Deauville Le Harve; Brighton; ChichesterDays: 9
Skipper: Pam Wyatt
Crew: Linda Hadcocks, Roy Burden
An unusual start to this cruise in that due to circumstances that I can't quite recall Summer Song had to leave Chichester on the evening tide while the rest of the boats had left on the early. This created three new experiences for me. It was to be my first channel crossing, first night sail and first time on a watch system. However I felt totally confident as I had sailed with Pam and Linda before and knew that things would be organised and calm and I would be told what I needed to do. I hadn't met Roy before but it appeared that he was also quite experienced.
The night was cloudless and the channel was as flat and calm as a Mill pond. Away from the artificial lights of land the dark night closes in and for the first time I get to see the night sky in full glory - an unbelievable myriad of endless stars. I think the trip could already be considered a success for this rare sight alone. We slip along on the engine as there is barely a breath of wind and soon the shipping lanes appear and I get a chance to put those classroom ships light diagrams into active service. Almost immediately some lights appear to make no sense - unfortunately it appears that ships move - they pass each other and overlap, resulting in some apparently strange configurations that can easily be misinterpreted. However with perfect visibility and a flat calm there is plenty of time in which to make any decisions. This was to be a complete contrast to the return crossing.
Right: Roy arrives in Cherbourg in the morning sunshine
The plan is to cross the Bay de Seine stopping in various places en route. The route would take us past the invasion beaches in light winds and hot sunshine, so my traditional bright red "sailing face" would soon be in evidence. The first day was to rest after the crossing but it wasn't long before the sunshine lured us out and Linda, myself and Roy trotted off to the excellent Maritime Museum. Next stop was St Vaast a short hop from Cherbourg, a small fishing village and while there isn't much going on there for some reason I really love this place.
Left: John resurrects a sail from his archives. Not as colourful as Summer Song's chute but quite effective as he pulls alongside for a photo. (Of course we slowed down to allow the opportunity)
From St Vaast due to the tides we have a very long day sail across to Deauville passing the Invasion Beaches and various obstructions. The Deauville Marina is slightly bizarre as it has all new pontoons and purpose built apartments and shops, yet we can't find the showers. After much hunting and eventually asking a security guard we find them hidden below the quayside in something akin to a wartime bunker. In complete contrast to the rest of the place the showers are small and look like they haven't been renovated for at least 15 years. We take a rest day exploring Deauville and Trouville which are very picturesque and famous for Monet's paintings of the vast beach umbrellas. Alas when I went to take the cliche photo they were all tied up!
The plan was to move on to Honfleur but unfortunately the weather is on the turn and the forecast is for strong westerlies (if I remember correctly)building from the following lunchtime. There is a grand debate among the skippers as everyone would like to go to Honfleur but the approaching weather could make it difficult, even impossible to get back up the river and most of the crews can't afford to get stuck in France. Eventually it's decided to go instead to Le Harve as it can be left at any state of the tide and gives us the option of Brighton if we can't head up enough for Chichester.
Our day exploring the unattractive concrete jungle that is Le Harve suggested we had made a mistake as the weather remained fine. On return to the Marina in the early evening there were Police everywhere, something was clearly up, the police let us through their check point after a brief questioning and we discovered that the French flagship the aircraft carrier Charles de Gaulle was to leave that evening from the military dockyard. Come darkness the quayside was full of people as the giant ship left to a fabulous firework display over the Marina and the ships band playing the obligatory anthem. Later we were treated to another display as the promised weather finally arrived in the form of a thunder storm and the eerie howl of the wind through the masts of the marina's flotilla. For a while it seemed that we may be unable to return to England as planned.
By the time we were ready to leave the wind had abated slightly but conditions were still quite lively. The sea had built to a big steady swell and the wind was still significant. The return was to be a long tiring endurance test and the decision was made to make for Brighton rather than have to bash into the wind all the way to Chichester. (Apart from Gerry in Blue Scherzo) This crossing turned into one of those journeys that at the time you wish you hadn't started, but at the end you are pleased to have completed. The final approach into Brighton seemed to take forever but eventually we made it in, tied up and immediately hit the sack as we had spent the entire time on deck taking it in turns to doze while wedged into some nook or hang onto the helm.
Below: Lucrece rides the swell outside Le Harve
Sunday dawned with light winds and warm sunshine for what we expected to be a nice easy trip back to Chichester. However it appears you never can tell with sailing. First an hour or so out and the glorious sunshine dwindled until we were back once again in wet weather gear being thrown around. On the bright side we made great time, fairly cracking along. On turning round Selesy Bill the wind was right on the nose and as we were all rather tired decided to drop the sails and motor into Chichester. Unfortunately Fizzgig was not to be so lucky. As John started his engine the fan belt broke and he stopped to try and effect repair. We went on not realising there was a problem until John called on the radio to tell us of the problem and that he couldn't fix it with the boat bucking around. This meant John had to take long fast tacks while we stooged around outside Chichester in case he needed any help nervously eyeing the depth dwindling as the tide retreated. Eventually John made a spectacular appearance Fizzgig fairly racing along. Over the radio it was decided we would tow Fizzgig in as the strong wind and rolling sea made an approach under sail foolhardy. We passed them a line and took up the tow, making a slow trek up to the Marina at sunset (See below)
The final act was to lash the two boats together side by side so that Summer Song could use her engine to nose both boats into the lock. This Pam achieved quite magnificently with just inches to spare, in the dark with visibility reduced by Fizgig's rig and after two exhausting days sailing.
Date: 07/02/04
Boat: Fizzgig; Westerley 33
Trip: Chichester; Nab Tower; Sparks; Chichester
Days: 2
Skipper: John Alden
Crew: Guy Fowler, Nick
My first proper sailing trip on board Fizzgig a Westerley 33 and the weather was not great. Cold and grey with intermittent rain. I am kitted out in my skiing gear, not exactly sailing attire but it's fine, warm and waterproof-ish. The wind is strong and we headed out to the Nab Tower along with fellow club boat Lucrece (Camper Nicholson 32 see image below). It's rather choppy to say the least but I feel great and it's all new and totally confusing even though I am halfway through the day skipper theory evening class. Everything is different out here, not like the charts and books at all! We have lunch on the go, John rustles up hot pasties and tea and I eat like a ravenous dog despite having done chuff all. The boat is rising up and crashing down over the significant swell but we are all quite jolly and the tower is looming from the grey sky. Jolly that is until we round the Tower and head back towards our overnight destination of Sparks Marina Hayling Island. The wind is now behind us and the boat takes on a whole new and dynamic rolling gait like some drunk on a pinball walk back from the pub. I am not feeling so good, but the others, all old hands at this lark are fine. Suddenly I find I can't function, my stomach churning like a washing machine and I feel so so tired, I want desperately to close my eyes, but every time I do I feel sick. God I feel awful, John regards me with a knowing look, his pipe sprouting from stubbly beard he looks every inch the salty sea dog and I suspect he has noticed I have gone very quiet and probably the colour of my face is not the most flattering of shades. He maneuvers me to a new place in the cockpit and I notice they are all watching, I suspect they are waiting for something, like some spectacular news event or football result- and indeed here it comes, I scramble quickly to edge of the cockpit, the boat is rolling and it's now raining as lunch makes a spectacular reappearance over the side. John has hold of my arm and Nick hovers ready to give assistance while Guy handles the helm. I can hear the wind wailing but nothing else, Lunch sure don't look so good now as I settle back, but if anything I feel worse than ever and am now really cold. How long till we get in?, 3 hours!! you have to be kidding me, I think I want to die, maybe I could slip over the side, but no I barely have the strength to raise my chin from my chest let alone stand up. My head feels crap, dizzy and numb and It's a nightmarish struggle to keep my eyes open, I don't want to be sick again, but I am not going to get the choice and I lean again over the cockpit side. I thought we would never reach Hayling, to me we must surely have rounded Cape Horn or some other such legendary sailing benchmark, but no we barely tinkered into the Solent and back. 
John has taken us back early for my benefit but this means we are at the entrance to Sparks at low tide and we will be very very tight for depth when we negotiate the channel. Really we should wait but John decides to try for my sake. Unfortunately we don't make it and come to a sudden halt as the keel engages the soft muddy bottom. This however is to my fortune as the boat is now quite still and steady and I begin to recover some semblance of a human being. John tries everything to get us off the mud but to no avail, we even inflate the dinghy and take a line to a nearby pontoon and try to winch ourselves off but it's no good and we have to wait out the two hours or so until the rising tide lifts us off and we enter Sparks in the dark and meet up with some other club boats. The other skippers rib John mercilessly over running aground, but I am glad he tried.The following day we take an easy trip back up Ichenoor creek, stopping to practice picking up buoys and coming alongside various pontoons. John gives me a chance maneuver the boat around various moorings and take up to a mooring buoy. Today is much more like it, flat calm, warmer and dry. I start to see some appeal to this sailing lark at last and just maybe it won't be my last trip!
