More of the cruise - 7th August onwards

Not much more to report on St Vaast. They did have a music festival going on there for the last two nights of our stay which was rather pleasant. Folk and sea shanties from what I could make out (people nasally singing the same melody line with a finger in their ear; lots of accordions and fiddles). It drew quite a crowd and as the weather was hot all day and milk warm in the evening, we were therefore able to avoid the crowds and sit on the back of the boat to listen (as it was fairly loud) - a very pleasant experience with a drop of port to sup.

Tried going for a bit of a walk on Sunday afternoon as it clouded over a little and even tried to pitifully spot with rain but by the time we'd got off the boat, someone had nicked all the clouds and it was blazing. We struggled manfully on but it wasn't much use and we arrived back at the boat dripping wet. Out came the hose and Rogers screeches drew the looks of those about us. Pretty soon, the pontoons were crowded with people doing the same. Last night, I even had a shower on the pontoon it was so hot.

Left St Vaast in hot sun but poor visibility (very thin layer of thick haze) yesterday morning at 0800. There was very little wind so we motored most of the way which is a pain as it’s a bit slower then most sailing and noisy. Still, we banged on the autopilot and went up on the foredeck, returning now and then to check the instruments. After about 3 hours, an excuse for a wind got up and we hoisted all sail which at least allowed us to reduced engine revs (and noise) whilst maintaining the same speed. It also had the advantage of shading the deck and in the gap between the main and genoa was funnelled a wonderful breeze.

Again, the GPS has been fantastic, provided you keep checking it, which I was doing yesterday; religiously. My calculations, continuously put us about half a mile north east of our actual position. As these calculations are done every hour that would mean a total possible error on out eight hour passage of four miles; a bit scary when the entrance to the port here is littered with off lying rocks which are awash a some low tides, which of course was when we arrived. There are other methods for determining position which can help but nevertheless! Pauline's good eyes are very helpful here for spotting navigational marks in the gloom (although strangely, mine seem to be better at night).

As an aside, of course this isn't just the place we've anchored off. Back in 1945, rather more people did the same thing for their heroic offensive on the beaches that we could just see through the haze. It must have been very similar for them as I recollect from that scene in The Longest Day, when the German gunner looks out from his emplacement and sees a few ships and as the mist lifts so more and more are visible to him as he panics. Finally, hundreds maybe thousands of ships are before him as the battle starts.

Today, is a bit of a make and mend day as we call it in Nelson's Navy (and the current one for all I know). This morning I cleaned Magiciennes decks which is lovely because she ends up all white and I end up all cool form working in the cool water. I then did some passage planning for our next leg, possibly to Honfleur where that old Wiwyum the Conqueror set of to conquer England nearly a 1000 years ago and by some lucky stroke actually succeeded! Pauline did a bit of re-victualling at the market and in town and as mentioned is now at the Lavarie.

Ouch, ouch, ouch! Yesterday, as the weather has cooled considerably, we went for our first serious walk for a long time; about 12 miles, and today I am a bit stiff. We had planned to leave Courseulle but we awoke to find it blowing F4 out of the NE and whilst this would just have allowed us to sail close hauled to our new destination (probably Deauville) there was hint of F5 about and I reckoned that as the sun got up causing the onshore sea breeze it might easily get to F6. In the event, my seamans weather eye and the wound I received at Aboukir Bay were right; which proved interesting.

The harbour (like so many on this coast) is locked in as the coast dries to about half a mile. So entry and exit is limited to two hours either side of high water. (There is another harbour that small boats can leave earlier from - about HW + or - 3). Also, the pilot book tells you that entry and exit can be dangerous in strong (defined as F6) onshore winds; which a nor'easter is, pretty much. So, I was humming and hawing about whether to go or not and I walked down to the harbour entrance to have a shufty. By the time I got there, the F6 was well and truly set in, maybe gusting to F7. Nevertheless, small craft were attempting to leave - it was astonishing! (You may remember some time ago I mentioned the large number of small, private fishing vessels that put out of all the harbours). These people were leaving in shorts and teeshirts - no life jackets. Boats were often heavily laden with children and wives (presumably). Anyway, at about the same time some of the commercial fishing vessels (very large, powerful and heavy affairs) were approaching the entrance. Some of the small vessels were just in the entrance and already encountering breaking seas perhaps four or six feet high; high enough for them to disappear sometimes in the trough. One or two immediately turned and ran very quickly back to safety others ploughed bravely (and madly) on, only to turn back after a few hundred yards; skipper and crew usually looking a bit sheepish and wet as they passed the growing number of onlookers. By now the commercial job was in the entrance (which is about 40 yards wide). I think he must have smacked onto the bottom (rock!) in a big trough because he turned beam on to the swell, virtually blocking the entrance that still more small boats were swarming towards. I wouldn't have believed that such a large and heavy vessel (with a very deep keel) could wallow and pitch so much. He struggled, but succeeded to bring his head to wind (it was being blown off with some force) and made for open sea again to await the deeper water of the tide a bit later on.

I'd also noticed a yacht which was laying to anchor in roughly the position we had a couple of days ago. It was all over the place. I assume (due to the tides) that she must have arrived some time earlier as we had; so she must have been enduring this for some hours. As I watched she weighed, clearly wanting to get in before things got worse. But she was too early and there was not enough water for her to safely get in (if you're not used to the area you need to follow a couple of very tight transits) and she would not risk using water she'd seen others in - quite rightly. Forced to stand off and on she yawed and pitched alarmingly. As the second hand announced the second hour before high water she headed in very quickly which her helmsman struggling to keep her on course in the large following sea. As the passed us (I'd run back to get Pauline it was so fascinating), the Husband and Wife crew must have felt very, very relieved and happy.

We stayed in port today as well as the weather forecast is if anything, slightly worse; although we don't seem to be experiencing such strong wind. We went down to watch again this morning, drawn by morbid fascination. The entrance wasn't quite so bad but still with a heavy swell and the occassional breaking wave. The hoards of boats came down, some barely able to make headway against the strong current because their engines were either too small (large yachts, four horse power outboards) or clearly mal-functioning. We saw two boats foul their prop on the large amounts of floating weed (presumably from the blow yesterday) and one lost their engine entirely in the entrance. They tried to get a line onto a passing vessel but failed. Pushed by the wave action and the wind, she smacked down onto the rocks several times (it's quite un-nerving to see a 32' yacht rise up on a wave and as she comes down just stop dead - bang). Anyway, they got the engine going and continued (continued mind you) to go out to sea; with no idea of what damage may have been caused to hull, keel, rudder or prop shaft - with the possibility of the weather worsening and the return entry being even worse.

We went for a walk along the cost to Ver sur Mer and inland to Crepon. Ver was the principal point of attack for the British forces along this stretch of the coast. The French call it the Tete de Pont which I find strangely amusing. Clearly, the village took a bit of a pasting but there are still old streets and courtyards that have not changed and saw severe fighting, probably hand to hand. In other places you can imagine people within the houses throwing open the upstairs shutters to welcome the British soldiers.

We walked out of Ver through the countryside towards the "Anciens Blockhaus". These four huge reinforced concrete German gun emplacements sit in the centre of a vast plateau, so they could sweep the area with devastating fire. However, taken they were and the front of one has been completely blown out (and is now filled with household refuse!). In one of it's sides you can see an area that has been blown away and at an angle in the centre of the "crater" is the clear impression of the nose of the shell that caused the explosion; I'd estimate the shells diameter at about four inches. The strength of the concrete was such that it still only caused a section about three feet across to be removed.

Not much at Crepon so we trudged (wearily now) back to Ver and then along the windswept beach, backed by sand dunes and of course the remains of more block houses. Despite the wind (it was still shorts and tee shirt weather) there were people having fun on the beach; wind and sand surfing, sitting behind wind breaks, walking and even some were in swimming! But I find it hard to think of it as a pleasure area when I imagine what happened here not that long ago with "The Longest Day" and "Saving Private Ryan" in my mind. The other thing that occurred to me was that (although it was their fault) the German soldiers must have been courageous as well. We saw a diagram of the forces arrayed offshore on 6th June 1944 and just the British ones were immense. Not just the infantry in their 10's of thousands, but the warships behind them continually bombarding the area in front of our troops and the Spitfires, Hurricanes, Typhoons and Bristol Beaufighters bombing and straffing targets as well. Yet, they fought and fought. What for?

Nuff of that. We got back absolutely kernackered. Had a quick shower and take away pizza and went to the second of two evening of jazz concerts called "Jazz on the Dock". "Jazz in the school gym" would have been more accurate but that in no way detracted from the fun. Each nigh had three performances of groups playing swing, Dixie, New Orleans, boogie woogie and a tribute to Django Rhinehart which I particularly wanted to see but which was a bit disappointing as the trio had two guitarists one of whom thought that good music was playing as many notes as possible in the shortest possible time. The other chap was good though and it reminded me of the times when Alex and I used to go to a jazz guitar club together. Some of the groups were good and got a connection with their audience (I think we were the only foreigners there) of French people who clearly take jazz seriously; each performance was preceded by someone explaining the history of the genre. So, two late nights in a row as they didn't finish until 0100ish.

Yesterday after I'd brushed my hair we went for a walk. It was windy so my hair got blown about and I looked a mess. No other women seemed to look a mess. It was sunny so I was able to get a better tan on my legs by pulling my skirt up when no-one was about. I try to walk fast but I have to take two steps for each one of his and so I keep slowing down. When we walked back along the beach there were some really colourful windsurfers going fast over a sparkling sea. I was tired out.

Yesterday I put on the clothes I was wearing the night before and we went for a walk. It was windy and sunny but I still wore my long trousers which were too hot. Luckily the bottom off the legs comes off so I screwed them up in the bottom of the rucksack where I'd put all my heavy camera equipment fully intending to be arty farty and capture the essence of our trip. I failed and ended up carrying a heavy weight. I can't walk slowly. I was tired out but wouldn't admit it.

Exactly four months to the day after going aboard Magicienne, we landed with a bump if not back on planet earth then certainly on a space station nearby. Our weather window had appeared sailed from Chebourg yesterday morning, arriving back in England at 2200 (FT), berthing at the Haslar Marina at Gosport. We were immediately confronted with the realities of English Marina costs and the rip off that they are. Here is a comparison, and bear in mind that Haslar is one of the more reasonable in the Solent!

Now it is true that French marinas are subsidised by local government but of course that brings in more tourist trade to the area thus generating cash and jobs. Why can't we do that instead of this bloody Thatcherite march towards profit centres. I think I've gone on about this before. Pretty soon, euthanasia will be introduced on the basis that individual people are profit centres and on becoming non-profitable should be terminated. Ggrrrrr!

OK. We left Cherbourg at 0500 (FT) with the forecast saying WNW F3/4 veering NE F3. Excellent for sailing across the channel and entering the Solent at the Eastern end (which is a slightly safer bet anyway). However, the WNW didn't materialise but turned out to be N F2 on a very sunny day. So, we had to motor close hauled virtually all the way. It was essentially very boring but about 25 miles SE of the Isle of Wight, Solent Coastguard put out a "May Day Relay". An EPIRB (automatic safety beacon) had gone off about 10 miles north of our position and we would be passing right through the area! We heard further VHF traffic from a boat that had seen a plume of smoke. An hour later, Solent Coastguard said that the area had been transited by a number of vessels and no wreckage or otherwise had been found. Nevertheless, we obviously kept a lookout.

As we passed through the area I noticed something bright and reflective about 200 yards away on the starboard bow. Pauline checked with the bins and said it looked like a shiny see through plastic thingy. I feared the worst as some lifejackets are now fitted with plastic hoods that automatically deploy to cover the face of the man over board (apparently, a lot of people drown despite wearing a lifejacket as they are swamped by waves).

We altered course and as we approached closer I could indeed see that it was an objectthat was clear plastic and inflated with what appeared to be "floppy" bits either side - like arms. I think at that point we both thought we had a dead body on our hands. Getting closer still, my heart was beating that bit faster. Closer still…..and it turned out to be a child's inflatable dolphin balloon, no doubt cast overboard from a ferry. The "arms" were it's tail and head that had got a bit deflated! Phewee!

Proceeded on our way and the wind did actually back and increase so was had an hours sail close hauled over a pretty flat sea so that was pleasant. Pretty soon though we had to alter course to enter the Solent proper and the engine went back on. I have to say that the Isle of Wight just seems to go on and on…and on….and on. As night fell we were approaching Portsmouth Harbour. So many vessels! We were just not used to it. Cross channel ferries, fast cat ferries, slow ferries, three liners, other sailing boats going in all directions, Captain Nemo and the Nautilus. You name it, it was there. No problem for Pauline though, who with some trepidation it must be said, helmed into the narrow harbour entrance. She still will not bring Magicienne alongside though.

Alex and Kelly popped down last night which was great. Kelly has increased in size somewhat and is about ready to pop I think. Things seem to be going well with their new house. Toya is coming down with Ian (I think) later on this week although we get hourly updates on the purchase of the house they are buying. Funny these mobile dog and bones; it's sort of being away and not being away - especially as the sound quality is so good.

The promised wind never materialised. Instead we got a light NNW and sunshine, so had to motor all the way across. This particular day was a Spring tide (fast flow rates) and so we were swept way, way up the channel before being swept back down again. I had of course calculated this effect and set course accordingly but it is difficult to marry up that logic with what you actually see before you. Being such a clear day, we first saw St Catherines Point (the southern most tip of the Isle of Wight) about 25 miles out with the South Eastern side of the island falling away from us. The tide was at this time sweeping us from West to East up the channel so the island never seemed to get any closer, indeed it actually gets further away and our passage up the side of the island went on interminably. This difference between our theoretical destination (Bembridge - before turning up the Solent to Portsmouth) and what I could actually see was difficult to come to terms with so I had to keep going below to confirm my calculations. Anyway, it all was correct and the tide duly swept us back to where we wanted to be - funny really, I should have had more faith in the moon and me!

Our plan had been to spend a pleasant September visiting those places we like in the Solent and some places we've still not been as well; taking advantage of the cooler days and autumn time generally can be pretty good. It hasn't worked out like that. Really the steam went out of our adventure and we felt like we were just marking time. We did visit Chichester harbour with its prospect of long walks and visiting Mike and Clare but although we did go for one long walk, our heart wasn't in it and to top it all M&C had the temerity to have gone on holiday to Greece. We came back up to the Hamble and saw Alex and Kelly's new house and Victoria and Ian came down for lunch but now home was very close indeed. The following day we went over to the Isle of Wight to try to get away again but it was no good. On Tuesday this week we found ourselves back in our home boatyard, Deacons and on Thursday we returned home for good.