For a long time I have wanted to sail the south coast in Wayfarer No. 265. Last year I graduated from Norfolk Broads cruising to the Solent area as far as Chichester and I decided to attempt some open water sailing for this year's cruise. I had never been to sea in anything smaller than a channel ferry, so thought it wise to arrange a cruise in company with another dinghy. I do not know anyone with a similar craft who could accompany us, so I tried to contact people through various acquaintances and clubs, including the D.C.A., but without success.

This year we decided to limit the cruising ground to the south coast between Chichester and Weymouth. The chief danger on this coastline is the area of overfalls on St. Alban's Ledge. There are various tidal races, notably the Peverell Ledge/Anvi1 Point race which was later to overwhelm us; and other potentially dangerous area such as the Needles channel and Chichester Bar. I was very apprehensive about each of these so spent some time working out the most favourable conditions for each obstacle.

On previous cruises there has been rather too much of the camping element and too little sailing, so this year we went to the other extreme and intended to do as little camping as possible, particularly as we expected to be fairly tired after lengthy sea passages. We would sleep under a roof of some sort as often as possible and have three hot meals a day; ordering two lots of breakfast, one of which would go into thermoses for lunch. The cruise was to be done in two parts - the first with George Greenwood who had done two cruises with me before.

The start of the cruise was delayed 24 hours as we had difficulty in finding a car to trail Calypso the twelve miles to Hamble, but we finally got afloat at 12:30 on Wednesday 27th July. We use a Solode trailer which claims "effortless single-handed loading" and in fact usually requires four people when launching. Our first port of call was Keyhaven and we had planned to leave early to catch the tide down the Solent, but we had launched too late for this. However, there was a moderate NW breeze, just enough to lift Calypso on to a plane, and we ran down against the flood stream for five hours with full sail up for the only time in Part 1 of the cruise. In fact it was a good thing the tide was against us as it prolonged the sheer pleasure of sailing under these conditions - with bright sunshine and a calm sea in spite of wind against tide. We arrived at Keyhaven at 17:30 and left Calypso at the Keyhaven Yacht Club jetty as recommended by the barman who is an extraordinary red-bearded seaman, known locally as Sinbad. He travels on a tricycle and prefers to sleep outside with his two dogs as "there's lots of funny things going on around here at night".

George conveniently has a grandmother living at Milford-on-Sea and she kindly offered to put us up for the night. We planned to head for Poole the next day via the Needles Channel which we should take at the start of the ebb stream, 09:30 at the latest. I rang the Needles coastguard station to give a description of Calypso and details of our intended passage; this was something we did every day in the interest of safety. The wind was westerly force 3-4, and we were off at 08:25, which gave us an hour to do the five miles to the Needles - the tide being with us. It was high water at Keyhaven so the passage out was easy. However, as we beat down the Channel we suffered our first breakage - the jib halyard. I had noticed it was rusty, but hoped it would last one more season. George quickly rigged the genoa on the spinnaker halyard and we continued. Outside Hurst Castle we hove-to to put on oilskins, life jackets and safety harnesses and prepared for our first taste of sea. There was a moderate breeze blowing, but no swell to worry about and we sailed full and by up the Needles Channel, then on 195º Magnetic for the next hour. We use a Sestrel Junior Compass which can be used for hand bearings, or as a steering compass on gimbals. We had mounted the gimbals on a bracket which can clip on to any part of the main thwart.

At 10:20 we changed watch, put four rolls into the mainsail, as the wind was now a good force 4, and tacked hoping to fetch Poole Harbour. The wind was still rising and I changed foresails just after midday, an operation made very easy since we had replaced shackles by snap shackles, but nevertheless I was glad of my lifeline. George came off watch at 1220 and when we located the Poole Harbour entrance, I discovered I had been inaccurate in our dead reckoning, so bore away on to a beam reach past Old Harry rocks and into Poole, putting on a display of speed for the keelboats pounding up the Swash. We were in the world's second largest natural harbour by 13:05, and picked up a mooring north of Brownsea Island, to have lunch and decide where to leave Calypso for the night. However, Adlard Cole's Pocket Pilot was not on board - we must have left it at Keyhaven. We decided to anchor on the north side of the harbour, so blew up the rubber dinghy and set off under reefed main. I had considerably underestimated the strength of the wind and we planed though a mass of moored vessels at frightening speed doing several unexpected gybes, tacks and up-centreboards on the way. On top of this, the rubber dinghy had blown upside down, thus dragging in the water and interfering with the steering. In short, we had too much sail up, so anchored to collect our wits together.

We were both firmly convinced that inland sailing was far more hazardous than offshore sailing, and planned accordingly. We put several more rolls into the mainsail, hoisted the small jib for better manoeuvrability and set off to tie up at a pile near the Parkstone Yacht Club. I went ashore in the rubber dinghy to ask where we could leave Calypso. Fortunately the first person I met was the bosun of the Club; he said we could leave the boat alongside the jetty, and offered to fit a new halyard for us if we removed the mast. This we did when George had paddled Calypso over to the jetty, and by 17:00 everything was shipshape again, so we took a bus into Poole in search of food and accommodation. All the bed and breakfasts were full and George suggested asking at the Police Station. However they were unable to offer us anything - not even cells. In the end, I slept in Calypso which necessitated patching a large tear in the tent, and George slept in an outboard motor shed.

The 06:40 forecast on Thursday morning was wind NW 4-6. We planned to take St. Albans Head at slack water 15:45, which meant going outside the Handfast Point and Anvil Point races which would be working on a spring ebb stream. However the wind would be offshore which presented no problems. After getting some breakfast and lunch in Poole, we made a late start at 12:15. The wind seemed to be SW force 5, so we put seven rolls into the mainsail and hoisted the small jib. When we were out of the lee of Handfast Point, it was clear that the wind was WSW and up to force 6, so we dropped the jib. The seas were gradually getting larger as we sailed south and by 13:30, we were out of the lee of Durlston Head with America the nearest land to windward of us.

The seas were huge - probably twelve feet or more, with a couple of feet of breaking crest on top, although George reckoned some of them were the height of the mast (21 ft.). Calypso would rise to meet a crest, and with the centreboard threequarters up, would be thrown bodily sideways in a smother of foam, usually with half the crest washing straight into the cockpit. The trouble was that we lacked experience in such conditions, as every time I misjudged a wave, it meant a lot of pumping for George. The problem was removing the water faster than it came in.

Peverell Ledge let us know of its presence even a mile and a half offshore. The sea was a mass of white, but the worst was over after five minutes. Thereafter the sea seemed to worsen gradually - probably due to the weather going tide which was 2.2 knots according to the chart. Discretion is the better part of valour, so when we saw a large yawl running under mizzen and genoa, we followed her into Poole under jib alone, with the intention of making Weymouth on Friday. Calypso rode before the wind surprisingly easily. Although we sometimes shipped water over the side decks, we were never pooped. The steepest waves would pick Calypso up and throw her forward with bows down and cut of the water as far as the after end of the centreboard case, at a speed well over my powers of estimation. This exhilarating surf ride would last maybe ten seconds, then Calypso’s bows would point up as the crest frothed underneath and we would glide down the back of the wave. The sea seemed to be making a peculiar roaring sound identical to that of a jetliner passing overhead. I presume conditions such as this are commonplace for the average dinghy cruising man, but it was certainly an extraordinary experience for us.

Once round Handfast Point, we hardened up but could not make any progress into the wind, so reefed the mainsail until only the top batten was in, and hoisted it. Even then, Calypso was frequently overpowered. We arrived back at the Parkstone Yacht Club at 15:10 after a very exciting day's sailing. We took a bus into Poole, and George and I split in our search for bed and breakfast, with the inevitable result that four beds were booked simultaneously. I cancelled my booking and discovered that George had booked two double beds, which was taking luxury to an extreme.

We were to make our longest passage of Part I on Saturday in spite of breaking the rudder. We missed the 06:40 shipping forecast, but the 08:55 weather forecast was - wind fresh NW to W, with hail and thunder. This seemed favourable provided that the wind was offshore as forecast. After breakfast, I bought another copy of Adlard Coles' Pocket Pilot as I had forgotten the directions for entering Weymouth, while George bought some hot lunch for the thermoses. I bought the 1966 edition of the Pilot which is infinitely superior to the old one. Adlard Coles says that the Anvil Point area could be "exceptionally rough" when a strong onshore wind blows against the spring ebb stream. It seemed that the cause of this was a combination of shelving bottom, race and overfalls on the ebb stream, and the long fetch of a WSW wind, but principally due to the strength of the tidal streams which, he said, were considerably stronger than stated in a spring tide ebb. We decided to try to press on through the main part of the race and continue to Weymouth if conditions were favourable, taking St. Alban's Head about 4.30.

I arrived at Calypso after a dash through a downpour and discovered that George had dropped my lunch thermos in his hurry to get oilies on; I found him salvaging my eight sausages from the floorboards. Clearly he'd intended to offer them to me for lunch complete with chunks of glass. I said I would rather go hungry and he could let the fish have a crack at eating them. The wind was very squally, but averaging SW 4, so George took Calypso out with the small jib and six rolls in the mainsail at 11:15. We were caught in a squall in Poole Harbour entrance, followed by torrential rain that reduced the sea to a gentle swell, making sailing rather pleasant. Half an hour later we were becalmed off Old Harry Rocks, and after a five minute hailstorm the clear wind began to pick up; SW by W. The wind was soon up to force 5, but the sea had not had time to build up after the rain. However, we could see a swell running on the horizon, and George noticed that no squalls had passed south of Ballard Point, so we were expecting larger seas as soon as we cleared Swanage Bay. By the time we reached Peveril Ledge, the sea seemed almost bad as yesterday's, but we knew what to expect, and decided to keep luffing and pumping until through the race. We got within two miles of St. Alban's Head before deciding to turn back and head east for the Solent; the waves were no longer dangerous, but very large (I guessed 50 to 80 yards between crests). A lot of water was coming on board, and it was quite plain to both of us that we could not sail full and by forever without tiring.

We had a wildly exhilarating ride for twenty minutes under reefed main alone. There was a lot of weather helm so we changed to the small jib at 13:50 for safety's sake. Also, we should not take the Needles Channel before low water at 16:00. A little later we put up the genoa instead as we could do with a little more sail area, and at 15:05, we decided to risk putting up the main, and lowering the genoa. This was a big mistake as when we bore away, there was an audible crack, and a drop in pressure on the helm; so George streamed the drogue and we had a look at the rudder. A quarter inch thick brass bolt had sheared causing the two arms of the rudder head to be bent outwards and split. Luckily it was repairable, and a few long screws and a G clamp soon put things right. A quarter of an hour later, we were off again on port gybe under the genoa, steering on the compass as the Needles were frequently obscured by squalls and anyway were only visible from the top of a wave.

At 16:40 we saw a mast about two cables away on starboard tack, so altered course and soon noticed it belonged to a large keelboat lying a-hull. George streamed the drogue and we lay fifty yards to leeward of them to ask if they wanted assistance, but it proved almost impossible to communicate with them. They had broken a mainsheet block, and we offered to launch a distress signal for them, than waited near them until they gave us a thumbs up. Later we saw them hoist a very deep-reefed mainsail and head for the Needles after us. There were a few vicious patches of overfalls in the Needles Channel, but we were past Hurst Castle by 18:05. Wet clothing was stripped off and hung in the rigging and we continued running up the Solent under the genoa arriving at Hamble just before sunset. We spent the night at the Royal Southern Yacht Club of which I am a cadet member.

Sunday morning saw us buying stainless steel bolts and screws to do a proper job on the rudder. We planned to sail as far east as we could before nightfall - probably Littlehampton or Shoreham, so bought two more charts and set off with full sail up at 11:05 in a westerly wind, just strong enough to plane before. The wind had risen a bit by the time we reached East Bramble and although we were planing fast, the leaders of a large group of Cowes week yachts with an impressive array of spinnakers were slowly overhauling us. Off Wootton, we put five rolls into the mainsail to lessen the strain on the rudder, and continued sailing downwind on alternative gybes. At 13:55 we gybed once too often, and broke the bottom mainsheet block, so came up into the wind, streamed the drogue, raised centreboard, lowered sails, removed rudder and examined the shattered block. I had not anticipated this, and we had no spares. One end of the laminated plastic block had torn off; but we were fortunately able to effect a repair by boring a couple of holes, fitting on shackles and rigging the block upside down so that the damaged part carried one third of the strain previously on it.

We also put three more rolls into the main for good measure. George set about putting the rudder in and while I was hoisting the mainsail, the boom gave him a heavy blow on the head, temporarily knocking him out. When he realised what had happened the rudder was floating away out of reach. After five minutes' uncoordinated efforts with sails, paddles and drogue line, we lost sight of it.

We had one course of action open to us - to make for Chichester Harbour under genoa and steering with the paddle pivoting in the hole under the mainsheet traveller. George took her off while I lashed the tiller to our other paddle to give us better steerage and this proved much more manageable; we would need this on Chichester Bar which we would reach at the worst possible time, about an hour and a half before low water, but the Isle of Wight should shelter the entrance from the swell, in which case it ought not to be dangerous. For the next two hours we sailed on 85º magnetic, taking photographs, having lunch, and listening to my tape recorder; then at 16:10 we lined up on the breakers we could see ahead, donned oilskins and lifelines, and stowed all loose gear. In fact, the bar looked much worse than it was as the bottom must have been very uneven and we were able to avoid the worst areas. The waves were too small to be dangerous, but big enough to give us some exciting surfing. We were in the entrance by 16:30 - only just making the ebb stream, and reached up to Emsworth scraping up the channel at low water.

That was the end of the cruise Part I as one cannot buy Wayfarer rudders anywhere, so we towed Calypso back to Waltham Chase the next day. Although the cruise had not been successful in that we had not reached our goal - Weymouth -, both of us enjoyed it immensely, and we encountered the large waves we had hoped for.

(To be continued – 035/06)