Spray is an 18ft Solent Seagull designed by the late Charles Nicholson for racing in most weathers expected in the Solent, and apart from carrying a lot of extra gear to enable me to sail her single handed and live aboard she has not been modified in any way. She was lying at Christchurch on July 4th when after supper I slipped down river bound for Cherbourg. At 2030 I passed between the crowds of holidaymakers splashing in the shallows at Mudeford and rounded on to a due S. mag. course. Anticipating a passage of approximately 24 hours I made no tide allowance and relied on my landfall to give me a good fix on the other side.

Outside the wind was a fairly steady force 2 from the N.W. and the miles reeled off. Visibility was excellent but nights at sea are cold and by 2300 I was muffled up in sweaters and duffle coat. St Catherine’s lay to the east and I thought of those lucky people turning in ashore as I faced 50 miles of sea. I always find quite a lot to occupy myself with on watch and it helps to pass the time; from steering the right course and keeping a constant check on the bearings of passing merchantmen to preparing an evening meal on a small primus — and there is the radio. In 1953 I remember the cross channel steamer passing 20 ft under my stern on a perfectly clear night. Radar seems to have made O.O.W.’s less observant these days.

The dawn came, first in a haze, but by 0900 I was being baked under a grizzling sun shining from a cloudless sky, only slight ripples darkened the easy swell and a heat haze developed reducing visibility to 3 miles. About 1200 I sighted a short stretch of low cloud to the south but it wasn’t until 1900 that the land which lay beneath it showed through the haze and by this time all the wind there was had faded. Luckily Spray can make about 1½ knots under oars, and as I closed the coast I obtained a fix about 3 miles west of Cherbourg breakwater with the tide just turning to the east. Through gruelling work at the oars I was rewarded with two mackerel before I entered the Grand Pade, thence up harbour to secure alongside the Yacht Club pontoon at 2130. The mackerel were soon sizzling in the pan and well fortified I had a walk ashore before setting the awning over the cockpit and turning in.

Ashore I did the round of money changing and Henri Ryst. Later his ‘functionaire’, muttering ‘C’est impossible’ when he saw Spray, had to be persuaded to deliver up the stores. We dined ashore excellently and wandered round the shops but with a few exceptions they were dear by our standards. In the evening we looked into a cafe or two and found all surprisingly quiet in ‘Smelly Nelly’s’.

On Thursday 7th, David Middleditch, with Sally and Wendy Ross, Secretary of the Cruising Association, came in in Spindrift. They had sailed from Cherbourg for Alderney three days earlier but their engine had failed a mile outside the breakwater; so for three days they had been drifting in a flat calm between Cap de la Hague and Barfleur on every tide until they knew every rock like the knuckles on their hands; it turned out to be magneto trouble! After lunch I slipped for Alderney, well reefed for the beat down harbour accompanied by Wavecrest with John Backhouse and Richard Hearn. Much as I wanted to go round to St Vaast and sample the oysters this year I was anxious to see new waters. The wind went round to the N.E. dying to a light air as we reached out to the N.W. from the breakwater, and I had misgivings about making the island before the tide turned at 1930 and having to run into Omonville. However, at 1930 and 7 miles to go, John motored back the half mile separating us and passed a tow. Somehow we made it crabbing into Braye across the tail end of the Swinge at 2030 just as John’s engine failed. There was a nasty lop outside and Spray seemed to fill the trough giving me a nasty feeling. I ran up beside the long breakwater and leaving Wavecrest to anchor off the pier glided into the inner harbour where a centreboarder like Spray could easily take the round.

The next few glorious days were spent fishing in the bay or walking about the island and on the Sunday I walked out to the E. Lighthouse along the railway, the country is very wild and is still covered with the impedimenta of war, pill boxes, trenches and miles of barbed wire. On 9th July, Spindrift came in and David, fearing she might drag proceeded to lay out a kedge but unfortunately completely forgot to make a warp fast to it! H.M.S. Clearwater arrived with a team of divers to inspect the pier but their frogmen were unable to find the kedge in the mud.

On the 12th the wind went round to the S.W. and in the afternoon to N.W. so I proposed to sail back to the Solent in spite of a forecast of no wind at all. I trusted Spray would be able to ghost along. My afternoon sleep aboard was disturbed by crowds on the inter-island steamer with a blaring radio but, fairly rested I made my farewells to friends in the Mermaid and slipped out of Braye at 2120, having to row beyond the breakwater into the first of the east-going stream. I carried my tide successfully and had it fair for 9 hours. Twilight and darkness came as I laid a course N.N.E. mag. for the Solent, but in the light air Spray barely made 1 knot. The Casquests grunted astern and gradually faded. With the dawn a gentle breeze came up giving 3 knots and I had breakfast in the blazing sun. Visibility was never more than I mile and the sirens of ships could be heard wailing periodically.

Sir Francis and Lady Godley passed ½ mile on the starboard beam at 1220 aboard their 30 ton motor yacht from Braye also bound for Yarmouth, so I was able to check my course. During the afternoon I twice fell asleep for an hour waking to find Spray sailing south-east, so I began to get very worried in the evening about my position.

At 0020 a light suddenly flashed broad on the port beam and bearing W.N.W. There was no second hand to my watch but I took it to be St. Catherine’s about 4 miles distant. An hour later, as the light became blanked by land, a few lights showed up on the port bow and I made out two fixed red ones which are on the end of Sandown pier. I intended to anchor under the lee of the land for some sleep and proceeded inshore. There was an excellent pair of ‘leading lights’ flashing but, in the thick haze and probably because I was extremely tired, it wasn’t until I was 250 yard offshore that I realised they were belisha beacons. My suspicions arose when I anchored close to the pier in 8 fathoms when the chart gave 15 feet. However, too tired to care I turned in at 0430.

After breakfast I got underway at 0930 and sailed along the coast for 20 minutes. Rounding a point, I checked my course to find I was off Hengistbury Head, and must have been anchored off Bournemouth pier, which also has 2 fixed red lights. My estimation of course and tide had been correct after all. The last leg was downhill sailing and with a fair tide I passed north of the Shingles and past Hurst Castle.

Mr Doe, the harbourmaster at Yarmouth, gave his usual greeting as I entered at 1420, and a hand from an R.A.S.C, launch assisted me in securing to the piles conveniently close to the quay bedecked with bunting, as was every yacht, in honour of the Hiscocks who had returned from their world cruise in Wanderer the day before. After clearing customs I went ashore for a drink and yarn with the Godleys in the George before dinner. Relating my navigational experience aboard a neighbouring yacht later on it was interesting to hear a yachtsman tell of a similar experience when he thought he was off Bournemouth having picked up, as he believed, Anvil Point light under similar conditions, only to find that he was in Sandown Bay.

Now I don’t advise everyone to start out across the channel but with care and keeping a constant check on the forecasts by radio, and adequately fitted out, ten days or a fortnight in France are not outside the bounds of small boat sailing from the Solent. It opens up a new cruising ground with the thrill of going foreign. But the passage is very lonely for the single hander. The sea rarely allows us to learn by our mistakes and any risks which one might be induced to take in the Solent have to be ruled out for there is no one to whom one can turn for assistance.