Winter Solstice

Gulls soar above the saltings, gliding on 35 knots of South West breeze. A wan sun, emboldened by the passing of the solstice, drives away the grey cloak of winter.




Geese hunker down in the lee of the reed beds. They preen and warm themselves - sensing, in the lengthening of the day, that the seasons' long march towards Spring has begun.




Steeplechase white horses, whipped on by a wind rolling down from the Purbecks, canter up the beach.




A switchblade windsurfer clatters over the corrugated sea in a welter of sun spangled spume.




On this eve before Christmas Eve, Poole Quay is still, save for the swirl of the ebb; and deserted.....




....save for Sunseeker's shipwrights preparing exhibits for the London Boat Show.




Poole Bridge stays down. Yachts, Stargazer included, remain snug on their berths. November and December have been stormy months.





One dare gale fisherman ventures out.




The fish dock is filled with boats and the parking bays are empty of cars.




A lone Westerly 22 butts her way up harbour, against wind and tide. At the helm Bill Churchouse. Man and boat revel in a boisterous winter sail. Veterans of the Jester Challenge, Bill and Belgean have passages to America and the Azores behind them. An inspiration for 2016.


Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Poole Harbour

Lord Nelson

All week long an equinoctial easterly 6, or more, has churned the harbour mouth and driven surf ashore over Peveril Ledge.




Boats on the Swanage summer moorings have run into Poole for shelter. Only the lifeboat remains, plunging and...




...rearing among the white horses.




The breeze begins to ease. Stargazer romps out over the swell, hard on the wind, spray flying. We ease sheets at Anvil Point, to run west round St Alban's Head and into the shelter of Worbarrow Bay.




Lord Nelson and Tenacious lie, like two privateers ready to pounce, beneath the towering cliffs. Despite their lofty spars, and long dark hulls, we do not sight them until we are upon them.




Stargazer anchors off the beach, under Worbarrow Tout, out of the reach of a mischievous southerly swell.




The evening sun warms the cockpit. I sit mesmerised by a three dimensional kaleidoscope show being played out across the cliff face....




....and settle down for the night.




We rise early to catch our tide. The dawn sun suffuses Arish Mell with a rose glow through the vanishing wisps of autumnal mist.




Stargazer makes sail and slips silently away to sea. Lord Nelson and Tenacious slumber on companionably. Tall ships together.

Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

A Day in the Life

Dawn breaks, breathlessly pink. The sky mirrored in the hushed stillness of the river.




Two egrets preen companionably on the bank, peering into looking glass water.




Stargazer too studies her reflection. She nuzzles her mooring buoy as the tide stirs invisibly beneath her.




A Curlew pipes reveille. The ringing call echoes across the salt marsh...




...disturbing a Redshank. He hurries down the bank, to see what all the commotion is about.





It is our signal to leave the Beaulieu River. I eat brunch and let slip the mooring. We make our way downstream....




....past the Sunday lunch time picnickers on Bucklers Hard...




...and on to the dogleg river mouth, set about with sculptural scotch pines.




18-20 knots of westerly breeze ruffles the Solent. I tuck two reefs in the main. Stargazer puts her shoulder to the wind over tide chop - and slices her way upwind in long, shore to shore, boards




We stand close in to Yarmouth's homely red tiled roofs, stone built walls and tall chimneys - before tacking off the harbour mouth.




The tide is fully making now, urging us on. The evening sun deepens the blue of the sea, warms the red stripes of the lighthouse, and douses the Needles in golden mead.




On we tack into the sunset - homeward bound across Poole Bay. Our wind stays true into a cloudless, moonless, night. It carries us to anchor in Blood Alley. There we lie snug beneath a cape of darkest blue velvet, richly jewelled with myriad stars.

Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Woodlands Avenue,Poole,United Kingdom

On Passage

Stargazer romps towards the setting sun, under double reefed main and jib, hoping to make landfall before dark.

Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Bucklers Hard

I come ashore at Bucklers Hard. Once this terrace of weathered, red brick, cottages echoed with the adze strokes of the navy's master shipwrights.




The oak to build their wooden wall ships of the line came from the same ancient forest through which I now walk....




.....to reach the many gabled tree arched hamlet of Beaulieu, at the head of the river.

Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Palace Lane,Brockenhurst,United Kingdom

The Beaulieu River

The cruising chute and the faintest of zephyrs carry Stargazer out of Swanage Bay and into the Solent.

First tawny sand bars, and then green tree lined banks, rise to either side of us, as we enter the Beaulieu River. Fingers of marsh reach out into tea brown water, sending it recoiling in serpentine meanders.

Stargazer finds a vacant mooring, above Bucklers Hard. A profound silence settles around us. One punctuated only by the warbling trill of a curlew; the sigh of wind in the treetops ; and the bright slap and lap of the river current against our hull.

(Only enough signal for one picture today. Should be back to normal tomorrow when I row ashore)

Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Brockenhurst,United Kingdom

Pelican Bill

Stargazer slips out of Weymouth harbour to catch her tide.




We hoist main and cruising chute off the beach...




...and stand out towards a cloud shrouded Portland Bill - where the flow will be strongest and our wind clearest. We gybe inside the Shambles Bank and lope East, over a gently heaving sea, towards the Dancing Ledges and Durlston Head.




Pelican runs before us under Tops and Royals, sails aglow, framed by the plunging Jurassic cliffs.




Our fair tide falters. We tack into Swanage Bay and anchor, to wait out the westbound stream. On the jetty lies the Russian frigate Shtandart, her battle standard fluttering in the breeze.

Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Shore Road,Swanage,United Kingdom

A Rude Awakening

Gulls wheel above Stargazer as she basks, in the sunshine, against the rough stone of the ancient quay.




We had dodged the Bank Holiday rain squalls anchored amid the soaring serenity of Worbarrow Bay....




....joined for a night by Amelie Rose.




This morning a polite rap on the hull broke our tranquil spell. "It's the first of September today. The Lulworth Range has re-opened. Live firing commences in an hour."




I hurriedly hoist sail. We beat west against the tide, out of the Firing Range. The sea sculpted arch of Durdle Door frames a family picnicking on the beach, as we sweep by.




Stargazer leans to a jolie brise from the NW and romps over a sun spangled turquoise sea. The shock of my rude awakening is erased. I breakfast sat to leeward in the cockpit - the sun on my face, wind rippling my shirt, and a mug of fresh brewed coffee in my hand.




We carry our tack in through the open arms of Weymouth harbour mouth, and drop sail as the tall ship Pelican comes abeam.




Stargazer picks her way through the bustle of the fairway. Up past the lifeboat station....




....and brightly coloured potting fleet...




.....to The Cove. Children cast for crabs between the boats. Their parents wash fish and chips down with cool beer, legs dangling over the harbour wall. Time meanders elastically.

Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Cove Row,Weymouth,United Kingdom