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A Mustang Milebuilder
- being a small account of
the voyage of ‘Dreamchaser’
7-12 September 2008
by
Derek Blackall
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Cards on the table! I like Mustang
Sailing. I had originally planned to do my Coastal
Skipper theory with them in January 2008,
but Paul had been poorly so it was April before I
finally found myself in their most delightful
setting, right in the shadow of
the South Downs, and ready for my big adventure!
Mind you they’d already been nice enough to give me
a free RYA first aid course
for the ‘inconvenience’ of the delay,. Oh yes, I
really do like Mustang Sailing.
Paul’s style on the theory course, together with
wonderful Spring weather, made the whole week most
enjoyable, and what’s more, I
passed, and with certificate in hand, I went
searching for a practical course. The lure of warmer
weather enticed me to Gibraltar
in May and a 2 week experience with, dare I say it,
another school which offered voyages to Morocco and
Costa del Sol put the
practical certificate under my belt. Another two
weeks in glorious sunshine and I was well and truly
hooked, so now for the all
important mile building phase of my new passion.
Despite my apparent defection, Paul called me about
Mustang’s September Milebuilder and after what
seemed far too long off the
water, I turned up at Gosport’s Haslar Marina on a
pleasant Sunday evening to meet my shipmates and get
ready for some serious
miles. I was delighted to be met by Paul, who, even
though he was not coming on the voyage, had
travelled all the way from his
home to load the boat with oilies, equipment and
victuals and wish us bon voyage.
There were four of us in the crew, with ‘Captain
Bob’, our professional skipper/ RYA Yachtmaster
Instructor to keep us out of
trouble and make sure we extracted the most from our
week.
Monday saw us doing a bit of boat handling in the
Marina to get used to the aptly named ‘Dreamchaser’,
a Jeanneau Sun Oddysey 37,
before setting off for our cross-Channel leg. I seem
to remember there was talk of going to Alderney but
the plan soon settled on
St Peter’s Port on Guernsey instead. We split into
two watches of 2 per watch, with a 4 hours on/ 4
hours off pattern. It was
cool, and very pleasant in the sunny breaks so the
school oilies proved to be just the ticket. Sadly
the weather deteriorated as
the day wore on and my over-riding memory of this
first leg was being woken up for our midnight to
four spell to find the sea
state well up, everything pitch black, the wind
above 25 knots and a need to get the second reef in
straight away as the outgoing
helmsman was finding it hard to hold course. The
four of us stayed together to do this job before the
other watch retired and, I
have to say, I was relieved when it was over and we
had a sense of achievement having done everything in
the right order, if
somewhat slowly.
The boat was much more manageable and the weather
imperceptibly improved as our watch went on. We were
streaming through the
famous Alderney Race, a strong tidal current between
the Cherbourg peninsula and the Channel Islands that
you have to time
correctly to make sure, when you are in it, that it
is going the same direction as you are!! We had
talked about ‘the Race’ in the
classroom in April but there was nothing to compare
with experiencing it. Dawn broke with St Peter Port
in sight and, as we moored
up just outside the marina, it was exciting to
reflect on our first leg – 24 hours and 120 nautical
miles non-stop, through the
Race and with real weather!
It was raining in Guernsey and the point was proven
that there is no such thing as a simple ‘run ashore’
for us sailors. A shower
and shop run entailed inflating the dinghy to become
an impromptu water taxi, because the pontoon was not
attached to the shore.
Later we sat in the saloon out of the rain and
planned the next leg to St Helier on Jersey when
someone said ‘how about a little
catch up on sleep’ so early afternoon found us all
snoring as we enjoyed the most blissful of ‘power
naps’ imaginable before
setting off South. We arrived in Jersey after dark,
which, now I think about it, was a feature of all
our arrivals that week, bar
the final return to Gosport on the Friday. We were
getting very adept at lights and buoy recognition as
well as identifying other
traffic in the blackness.
We over nighted in St Helier, tied up outside another
boat as there were no spaces at the pontoons. This
was another special
element of sailing - where else can you tie up to
strangers and walk all over their property and be
made to feel so welcome?
Etiquette of course does demand that you walk to the
jetty around the foredeck of their boat. Coming back
from dinner at the pub
you have to do it all again and hope you are not
disturbing people too much. Mind you, as they left
before us in the morning, the
favour was returned as we were woken early to let
them out.
The next leg was to Cherbourg, back through the
Race, this time going North, but not before some
anchoring practice off a beach on
the North side of Herm (sheltered from the weather)
so that we could have an idyllic lunch on yet
another home made meal that Paul
had supplied. It was the curry I seem to remember.
Delicious!
We made Cherbourg in time for moules frites before
the restaurants closed.
Next day was Thursday so we had to start thinking
about being in a position on the Friday morning for
a timely arrival back at
Gosport by mid afternoon because the boat was due
out on another charter.
We crossed the Channel again and went to the West
side of the Isle of Wight, past the Needles, and up
to Yarmouth. The navigation
all that day and up the West Solent, in the dark
again, was my responsibility and working out the
lights and transits to keep us
safe was one of the most rewarding things I have
done in sailing. It wasn’t without stress though
and, at one point, Captain Bob
was heard to remark “I like to see a man under
pressure”. The wind from the South West put us
running downwind too so each turn
in the channel was a gybe, more good practice. We
arrived after midnight and rather than enter the
harbour at Yarmouth we picked
up a mooring buoy just outside and bobbed ourselves
to sleep again.
Friday morning was a stunner. Wind zero, sky blue
and the Solent like a millpond, Someone whipped up a
hearty breakfast using up
what was left of the eggs, ham, tomatoes and
mushrooms. Do you get the impression, dear reader,
that food is important to
sailing. I think so! We had the tides worked out
perfectly so just slipped the line off the buoy and
drifted at zero boatspeed
with the sails up, but lifeless, towards Cowes and
our final destination of Gosport. The wind came up a
little so the sails did
add a bit of ground speed but most of it came from
the tide. There was a regatta on at Cowes so we
picked our way amongst the
hundreds of boats in that part of the Solent which
all added to the enjoyment of the last day. We
docked at our allotted space in
Haslar Marina in good time, with Paul once again on
hand to meet us and help with the tidy up and
getting the gear off the boat.
My log book was filled in, signed and recorded 5
days on board, 314 nautical miles covered and 20
hours night sailing. Not a bad
milebuilder week. Not bad at all.
Over-riding memories are feeling like a proper
sailor with all the aspects of tide and passage
planning, port entry and exit, when
to eat and when to sleep, not to mention chartwork
on a rolling table rather than in the classroom.
Good shipmates and an
understanding Captain who knew how far to let us go,
and when to step in with a nudge in the right
direction either verbally or
actually on the wheel.
Well done Mustang. A great week, well organised and
executed.
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