I. In a previous trip down channel in our 14 footer, we had spent several days in Weymouth waiting for favourable conditions to round Portland Bill by the inshore route. This time we decided, since the weather seemed reasonably settled, to give the whole area a wide berth. We left our camp in Poole at 2300 and drifted and rowed across the harbour and out past the ferry. Outside we picked up a light easterly which held throughout the night and enabled us to stand well to the south of the Bill.

By 1500 the following afternoon we were well across West Bay and were searching the horizon for Berry Head which lies just south of Brixham and is about 400ft high. There was no sign of it although the weather was fine and sunny. The wind freshened somewhat but remained easterly and we headed a bit N of W instead of due W (mag.) in order not to miss Torbay altogether. Still no sign of land, less and less faith in the compass (in spite of rough checking with the sun), more and more N in the course until we were in fact sailing NW. The sketch shows what happened — we finally made out the land right in the NW corner of Torbay and eventually dropped anchor in Exmouth at 1900. The compass and our original course were right after all, the visibility had dropped to about 2 - 3 miles without our realising it, the sun remaining bright and clear all the time (but drawing ahead so that we were looking into it which didn’t help). The moral — make sure beforehand that your compass is accurate and then believe it!

2. Recalling a D.C.A. rally held at Goldhanger Creek about two years ago, the weather became very unsettled for the afternoon rally. The westerly wind had strengthened during the day and was now blowing a strong breeze. When I arrived at Goldhanger Spit, I could see at once that the force of the wind against tide was setting up a rough sea in the creek. Felicia was now healing to the full force of the wind although I had one reef in the mainsail and the storm jib up, I was unable to control the mainsheet properly, and on this occasion, the elements proved the strongest. I was driven on to a lee-shore at Bullham Beach about 1 mile from Goldhanger Creek. I decided that I should anchor Felicia as there was no improvement in the weather. Aurora was the only sailing vessel to beat up Goldhanger Creek for the rally.

Eventually I went ashore and met Ron and Jeanne Long for a drink and chat at the local inn. On my return from the pub I had to face a desolate wind-swept sea wall. Although it was quite dark with no moon I managed to find my way along the sea wall. Suddenly it occurred to me that I had been walking for over two hours — I turned round and started to walk back again. I could not see very far ahead, weariness was coming on me and I found myself stumbling along instead of walking. At last I remembered a small black post off the sea wall near the beach. My heart sank immediately when I came to the spot! No dinghy or Felicia, but after standing for a few minutes and looking straight into the darkness, I could just see the outline of Felicia. I looked at my watch — it was 2 a.m. Sunday morning.

This story was no mariner’s dream but a reality, as I had left no light on board to guide me back. G.G.F.