Ad Lib 29

 

It is a stay-in-port day across Emsworth harbour. Especially if you are the owner of a wooden gaffer with leaking decks to re-pay. "Last time it took me two weeks, just to rake the seams out. Re-caulking was nearly a month. I'm going to epoxy sheath them. I want to be out sailing!"

Although, the only people out sailing, for the past several days, have been the wind surfers. Slashing to and fro, between the half tide sand bars. Riding thirty to forty knots of (surprisingly warm) easterly breeze. 

An option which Stargazer's skipper prefers to sit out. In favour of enjoying the sunshine in a more sheltered spot.

Where I share a picnic table, with a member of the Emsworth Yacht Harbour crew. Learning, in the process, that the marina is run as a workers' co operative. Because the founder, Admiral Gick, was keen to keep it out of the hands of the corporate marina chains, after he retired.

The Admiral had created the marina by converting the log pickling ponds of a sawmill. Which was powered by the Slipper Mill Pond and stood on a site now occupied by waterfront housing.

In the silence, after my lunchtime confidant has returned to duty, I hear a 'ping' from my phone. Purbeck Marine Mike has answered Stargazer's cry for help, with her fuel filler (see yesterday's post). He knows Stargazer well, from her Poole days. Our next port of call is thus confirmed. If not our day of arrival.

Ad Lib 28

The curse on Stargazer's diesel tank (see Winter Work 1&9) continues. A simple five litre top up turns sour, when the cap retaining wire parts. Its tail, complete with end fitting, dropping down the filler aperture with an ominously echoing 'plop.'

The sound suggesting that the (lower) horizontal leg of the pipe run is full of diesel. Which will complicate its disconnection, to recover the potential engine fuel feed blocker. Fortunately, at the time of the incident, the valve (blue handle, left of picture) which guards the tank itself, was closed.

With a Bank Holiday in prospect, and relaunch season in full swing, help is in short supply. But I suspect that two pairs of hands will be required to: muscle the pipe off; minimise the escape of diesel into Stargazer's bilge; and extract the errant attachment. Several tides may pass before such hands can be enlisted. Enquiries, as they say, are ongoing.

Ad Lib 27

 

 Langstone Quay is left high and dry. Its trees bedecked in blossom. The drinkers outside the Royal Oak baring winter white legs. Breaking out their summer shorts in the afternoon heat.

Whilst the Tide Mill surveys a sylvan scene, across its rolling seaweed lawn.

At the end of which a flock, of native Chichester shoal draft sailing cruisers, roost on their mud berths.

Rising waters hasten my footsteps along the, fast disappearing, shoreline path. For the flood tide is on the march. Canoeists launch from their gardens.

It is now but a short haul, for the Slipper Sailing Club gig rowers, up the ramp and into the bar.

On a tranquil Emsworth Quay. Serene as its resident swans. Both enjoying a peaceful respite, before the gathering of seasonal hoards.

Ad Lib 26

 

The sharp edged colours of a crisp spring day. . . .

. . . .take over from the pyrotechnic golden palette of dawn.

As Stargazer rounds Beachy Head at the turn of the tide.

Striding west with sixteen knots of north east breeze on her quarter.

The Newhaven ferry leaves for Dieppe. Arcing wide across our bow.

Stargazer routes inshore of the Brighton wind farm. Urged on by a willing tide.

With the sun's rise, and the warming of the day, the breeze begins to veer. Stargazer angles inshore to fill her genoa.

By mid morning she is running goose winged, to restore her rhumb line course. Slower speed but shorter distance. Faster in the long run.

For the afternoon watch, the wind settles into the south east. Restoring Stargazer's pace, on a port gybe

With the tide turning against us, off Selsey Bill, Stargazer cuts the Mixon reefs as fine as her skipper (crouched over the chart plotter, tide tables in hand) dares.

An obliging twenty knot squall powers Stargazer through 'Shingle Street.' A narrow pass in the subsea continuation of the low lying Bill. Through which the contents of the Solent are seeking an east going exit.

Stargazer gybes for the Chichester Bar. Her skipper once more intent on the chart plotter. For we are several hours ahead of our expected arrival time and it is low water. We follow a Sigma (of similar draft to us). Finding nigh on two metres beneath our keel.

Stargazer arrives amid the birdsong, buzzing dinghies, sandspits, lagoons and labyrinthine creeks of Chichester Harbour. As weekend sailors enjoy one final Sunday evening spin. How fortunate we are to be free to sail as the spirit dictates.

Ad Lib 25

 

Saturday morning's locks are fully subscribed. As boats put to sea after a stormy week.

Surveyed, from the safety of a sandbank, by the Sovereign Harbour seal.

Whose contemplative peace has been disturbed by the ensuing hubbub.

The seal smiles at the antics of the humans. Before returning to a study of ripples, stirred by an easterly zephyr.

Today, the wind is resting, after its strenuous exertions. Tomorrow, sixteen knots, still from the east, is forecast. Both wind and tide, seemingly, set perfect, for a rounding of Selsey Bill, through the (inner) 'Shingle Street' passage.

Today’s conditions are better suited to a snooze in the spring sunshine. As the wise seal well knows. 

Ad Lib 24

Scarcely audible, above the roar of wave and shriek of wind, a tortured groan.

As if hinges, long seized, are stirring into motion. Is it the sound of Stargazer’s weather window opening?

Tomorrow’s dawn check will tell.

Ad Lib 23

 

“Reach for the sky, pilgrim.” In the words of John Wayne.

Brightly painted vans line the brow of the beach. Their owners blissfully ‘blasting,’ whilst an opportunity presents.

Scything across wind shattered seas, trailing white rooster tails of salt spray.

Few are the takers, for a tour by open topped bus. Its driver taps an impatient foot.

 

His gaze fixed upon the pier, lit stark white and gold beneath a crystal clear sky. A mighty crescendo filling his ears. As wind and wave unite in chorus.

Ad Lib 22

"Those magnificent (wo)men in their flying machines

They go up, Tiddley up, up

They go down, Tiddley down, down. . . .

Up, down, flying around

Looping the loop and defying the ground. . . ."

'Those Magnificent Men In Their Flying Machines' by Ron Goodwin & Lorraine Williams 1965

Ad Lib 21

 

Every so often a new boat design catches my eye.

For example the RM1080 which I visited last year in La Rochelle (Zen Again 79). Liking the Space, light and simplicity below decks. As well as the hull lines, informed by the short handed offshore racing success, for which the Atlantic coast of France is famous.

But less keen on the exposed helms and wood epoxy construction. Boat design is the art of compromise. A gain on the swings often brings a loss on the roundabouts.

However, the (Australian designed and Turkish built) Seawind 1170 may be the exception which proves this rule. Seeming to 'have it all.' Starting with a flexible and easily handled rig. Comprising self tacking jib, permanently rigged furling reaching sail, plus a catamaran's inherent ability to carry a spinnaker without drama. No rolling downwind. No pole required. Both by dint of her beam.

The helm positions are sheltered, with all controls to hand. They give directly onto an airy interior, which resists the temptation to cram in berths. Instead concentrating on providing comfortable living for a couple, with occasional guests: A bridge deck saloon. A 'galley-down' in the starboard hull, plus guest cabin. The owner's quarters occupy the port hull. There is abundant, easily accessed, stowage.

Dispensing with lead ballast keels adds performance potential. As do wave piercing dreadnought bows. 

Whilst a one point two metre draft opens up anchoring opportunities. And extends the ‘opening hours’ of tide constrained harbours.

Picture Credits

Seawind 1170 pics courtesy of Seawind Catamarans and their agents.