jhr
Well-Known Member
Stugeron Steve very kindly – and foolishly – invited me to crew on the Cherbourg trip aboard Two J’s III . Particularly brave of him because I was pretty much an unknown quantity, plus I’m a stinkie.
Trip out was a bit rolly and I think all of us came close to looking for Hughie and Ralph at one point or another (praise be to Stugeron), but we had a good run, leaving Beaulieu at 1600-ish on Friday and mooring up at Cherbourg at about 0800 Saturday morning: under sail all the way, unlike some others who had left earlier. A particularly fine couple of hours leaving the Needles astern as the sun went down and the moon came up. Apart from one Kamikaze tanker, the large craft in the Shipping Lanes were models of rectitude and best practice. We were all tired and hungry when we got to Cherbourg, but we had made it in safety and style.
A couple of hours’ kip was followed by a shower and, in Steve’s epic phrase, a “Fat Boy’s Breakfast” and a visit from TwisterKen, hotfoot from Mr Brittany’s excellent ferry. The evening that followed was all a bit of a blur (in my view caused by tiredness, but I’m always sleepy after a couple of glasses of wine. That’s my story and I am sticking to it). Sat next to Dr Alex, who (a) is a really nice bloke and (b) had plainly had an epic run up from the West Country and who was called away in mid meal to inspect his repaired spinnaker – always the sign of a good time, I feel. Tried to pay attention to Tome’s several speeches but either he was talking in Norwegian, or I was sleepier than I thought.
What can I say about the sail back on Sunday that hasn’t already been said by others? Perfect conditions and a cracking passage. If memory serves, NAS won the prize for highest recorded surfing speed whilst helming and if we’d gone much faster we’d have been over the hump and on the plane. Dinner in Yarmouth and a solid night’s sleep was followed by a gentle run back to Beaulieu on Monday morning. A perfect weekend.
What did I learn?
• I still love sailing as much as I ever did
• Closing Cherbourg gave a classic illustration of how tiredness and shore lighting masking channel marks can make any of us disbelieve the evidence of our eyes
• Having two experienced skippers on board (Steve and NAS) was hugely reassuring
• I have become very bad at judging the relative courses of sailing boats. This is probably a result of blamming around at 25 knots all the time, with the certainty that you can get out of the way of anything else, in short order. On a couple of occasions, Steve had to intervene because I was being a bit cavalier with approaching stand-on vessels. Must try harder.
• When you’ve had enough of peeing over the side, it’s often fun to start chucking winch handles in the water as an alternative means of diversion. Tomato soup is probably best consumed from a cup, rather than from the hatch of the cockpit locker. (Please forgive inevitable in-jokes)
Many thanks to Steve, NAS and Webbo for their forbearance and great company. What a blast!
Trip out was a bit rolly and I think all of us came close to looking for Hughie and Ralph at one point or another (praise be to Stugeron), but we had a good run, leaving Beaulieu at 1600-ish on Friday and mooring up at Cherbourg at about 0800 Saturday morning: under sail all the way, unlike some others who had left earlier. A particularly fine couple of hours leaving the Needles astern as the sun went down and the moon came up. Apart from one Kamikaze tanker, the large craft in the Shipping Lanes were models of rectitude and best practice. We were all tired and hungry when we got to Cherbourg, but we had made it in safety and style.
A couple of hours’ kip was followed by a shower and, in Steve’s epic phrase, a “Fat Boy’s Breakfast” and a visit from TwisterKen, hotfoot from Mr Brittany’s excellent ferry. The evening that followed was all a bit of a blur (in my view caused by tiredness, but I’m always sleepy after a couple of glasses of wine. That’s my story and I am sticking to it). Sat next to Dr Alex, who (a) is a really nice bloke and (b) had plainly had an epic run up from the West Country and who was called away in mid meal to inspect his repaired spinnaker – always the sign of a good time, I feel. Tried to pay attention to Tome’s several speeches but either he was talking in Norwegian, or I was sleepier than I thought.
What can I say about the sail back on Sunday that hasn’t already been said by others? Perfect conditions and a cracking passage. If memory serves, NAS won the prize for highest recorded surfing speed whilst helming and if we’d gone much faster we’d have been over the hump and on the plane. Dinner in Yarmouth and a solid night’s sleep was followed by a gentle run back to Beaulieu on Monday morning. A perfect weekend.
What did I learn?
• I still love sailing as much as I ever did
• Closing Cherbourg gave a classic illustration of how tiredness and shore lighting masking channel marks can make any of us disbelieve the evidence of our eyes
• Having two experienced skippers on board (Steve and NAS) was hugely reassuring
• I have become very bad at judging the relative courses of sailing boats. This is probably a result of blamming around at 25 knots all the time, with the certainty that you can get out of the way of anything else, in short order. On a couple of occasions, Steve had to intervene because I was being a bit cavalier with approaching stand-on vessels. Must try harder.
• When you’ve had enough of peeing over the side, it’s often fun to start chucking winch handles in the water as an alternative means of diversion. Tomato soup is probably best consumed from a cup, rather than from the hatch of the cockpit locker. (Please forgive inevitable in-jokes)
Many thanks to Steve, NAS and Webbo for their forbearance and great company. What a blast!
