0900 hrs. Saturday April 1st. Three boats ready for the off, Roger Davies sailing his 12’ Walker Our 01, Malcolm Evans with his 17’ Rambler (open version) crewed by Ernest Bailey and Ron Dean, and last but not least John Deacon sailing his presidential barge Jady Lane. These five April Fools trailed down to Itchenor on Friday evening, arriving about 2130, took a bearing on the nearest pub, and rested their weary limbs till throwing out time at 2300 hrs. Half an hour later saw much activity on the foreshore, as boats were unloaded from their trailers, and gear stowed in the boats in preparation for a night afloat. It is surprising how long it takes to stow gear in the dark when you lose your torch, find it, loose it, rap your ankle on some mysterious object, which disappears on finding the torch again.

In all the commotion, we were not surprised to have a visitation by a tall man dressed in blue. After reassuring him that we were not Vikings about to pillage the village and carry off the women folk, he bade us good night and walked away muttering something about crazy yachting types. 0100 hrs., peace presides over the anchorage as weary sailors snuggle down in their sleeping bags. A beautiful starlit night, cold with more than a hint of frost in the air. A night that makes you glad of a good sleeping bag.

0530 hrs. A wonderful crisp morning, time to get up, scrape the frost off the foredeck and prepare breakfast. Ah! the wonderful aroma of bacon and eggs, a smell forgotten during the long winter months (somehow it never smells the same in the kitchen at home).

0903. Sun, but no wind, and no sign of any other D.C.A members. We all don our life-jackets, hoist sails, drop the moorings and drift down Chichester channel on the last of the ebb.

1130. At last we reach Chichester entrance, and a cheeky young wind force 1-2, blowing straight in the entrance, forces us to short tack all the way out, but who cares about an awkward wind when the sun is shining and the sea is like a mill pond? Once clear of the entrance a course is set for Bembridge.

1300 hrs. Overcast. Wind force 3. Good sailing.

1430 hrs. Dull, overcast, wind force 3-4. The first boat to arrive at Brading harbour was the Rambler, and she just managed to scrape over the bar at the entrance. The crew mentioned on passing that the no. 6 port hand buoy was high and dry on a sand bank. This sort of thing can be very frustrating to the unwary navigator. After a circumnavigation of the harbour, the kedge was dropped in front of the Bembridge S.C. A cup of coffee was prepared, and a flask was filled for the other boats when they arrived.

1500 hrs. No sign of John or Roger. Did they turn back? Should the Rambler go and look for them? Wind increased force 4. Decide to wait just a little longer.

1530. Two familiar sails round the entrance to Brading harbour, the russet red sails of Jady Lane and the blue and white sails of Our 01.

After coffee, the decision had to be made, should we return to Chichester now and run the risk of missing the flood tide and facing the ebb with a force 4-5 south-westerly wind blowing over it (very lumpy and very wet), or stay the night at Brading. As we were cold and hungry and it was just about to start raining, we decided to stay the night and make an early start next morning. The Wrong Decision: if we knew then what we knew later, anyway, any fool can be wise after the event, even on April Fool, but to continue…

After a good meal, the boats were prepared for the night. As the tide started to ebb, the three boats were so anchored as to be left high and dry on the sandy beach, thus ensuring a good night’s sleep with none of the worry of a possible dragging anchor in the increasing wind in a crowded anchorage. It also makes a visit to the nearest beer emporium so much quicker, none of this rowing about in a wee boat wasting valuable drinking time, besides we did not have a wee boat.

That night we turned in early. It was considerably warmer than the night before, but it was raining and blowing a good force 5.

0600 hrs. Sunday 2nd April. Wind force 5. Raining. We get up and prepare breakfast.

0755. Weather forecast — not good. Thames, Dover, Portland (they missed Wight) winds increasing force 6, westerly.

0855. Weather Forecast. Attention all shipping. Thames, Dover, Wight — gale force 8, imminent. To try and enter Chichester in a force 8 would be suicide. We are left with only one sensible alternative: leave the boats at Brading and return to the mainland by ferry.

Arrangements were made to leave the boats at the Bembridge S.C. in the capable hands of Sam, the club boatman (to whom we all owe our thanks).

12.00 hrs. We leave Brading by bus outward bound for Ryde, thence by ferry to Portsmouth and then a train to Chichester, and a taxi from Chichester to Itchenor, arriving at Itchenor at 15.00 hrs., we could not have done it any quicker if we had planned it, for the first time over the weekend the gods were on our side.

On the ferry from Ryde to Portsmouth we were glad that we had not risked the trip in the dinghies, the wind was a good force 7, and away from the lee of the land, the sea was very ugly and confused, a typical Solent chop, not ideal cruising weather.

The rest of the weekend was quite uneventful. After picking up the cars and trailers at Itchenor, we drove to Petersfield, had a meal, then drove home.

0600 Saturday 8th April. Malcolm Evans, Roger Davies and Ron Dean attempt to catch a 6 o’clock ferry from Portsmouth only to be told by a rather irate ticket collector that there wasn’t a 6 o’clock ferry, the first one was at 0640 (so much for B.R. Information Office).

0640. The three of us catch the ferry to Ryde. Ernest Bailey could not make it this weekend, and John Deacon decided to catch a later ferry — he couldn’t bear the thought of getting up at 0300 hrs.

0930. Wind force 4. Tide on the flood. The Rambler and the Walker beat out of Brading harbour, the Rambler with small jib and four rolls in the main.

Rather lumpy at the entrance, but once clear of St. Helen’s, wind dropped to force 2-3. We shake out the reef in the mainsail and change to a larger jib.

1200 hrs. Portsmouth entrance. Wind force 0/½. Tide on the ebb. We have to rely on mechanised top sail. The Rambler gives the Walker a tow. Roger in the meantime discovers he has left his oars at the Bembridge S.C. Ah well, all part of life’s rich pattern.

1400 hrs. Boats loaded on to trailers, and gear packed in the cars.

Roger phones the Bembridge S.C. to try and get in touch with John Deacon but alas too late. John has just left.

1430. Malcolm Evans decides to head for home, leaving Ron Dean and Roger Davies sunning themselves on the Portsmouth promenade, and keeping a weather eye open for John Deacon.

1730. Jady Lane berths alongside the car ferry ship, watched over by Ron and Roger from the window of the car ferry restaurant.

1800 hrs. Jady Lane on her trailer ready for home.

And so ends the All Fools Rally, not quite as originally planned, but all very enjoyable — I wonder what will go wrong on the Lymington to Beaulieu rally? Help!