The two of us had a week off, and as it was Cowes week, we decided to attend the DCA rally at the Folly Inn. This pub became a favourite on my first visit last year, so I needed little encouragement. We were camping, and so our dinghy was well loaded by the time everything was stowed when we launched at Warsash on the Saturday. There was a fresh northerly blowing, and when a very well-reefed Albacore was seen coming up the Hamble, we also put in a few rolls.

At 12.40 we left Warsash and headed for the Solent on the last of the ebb. Across the Solent Katy ran nicely goose-winged, and we had time to admire all the other craft. We crossed the tail-end of a Flying Fifteen race and, on later looking up sail numbers (192), found we’d passed quite close to Prince Philip in Coweslip. Identification was not positive at the time, for we were not sworn at.

The sea got choppier as we approached Cowes, and things were a bit hairy as we crossed the path of three big cruisers beating out of Cowes. Jo saw a couple of DCA dinghies tied up in Cowes — Ron Dean’s Pub Hunter and a Walker 12 — the first we had seen.

On arriving at the Folly Inn on the first of the flood, a DCA member, whose name escapes me for the moment, gave us a welcome “hump” up the hard with Katy before rowing off in his amazing inflatable dinghy. The tent was pitched and all our equipment unloaded, and by the time that lot was organised the rest of the DCA dinghies turned up. Needless to say, we met them all in the Folly Inn and a very jolly evening was spent there.

It was decided on Sunday that the Folly beer had to be sampled again, and so we stayed put for the day.

A cruise round to Newtown Creek was envisaged for Monday, and so to catch the west-going Solent tide we got up early and were off at 9.10 — incredible how long it takes to pack everything up. The wind was light northerly, and as we tacked towards Cowes a Folkboat overhauled us. She was a beautiful sight, and it was good to see someone not using his engine to get into the Solent. Cowes was milling with craft — all at least twice our size — and it looked as if the hovercraft had come to get us as it slid down off the ramp straight towards us. However, it passed (close!) astern and all was well. We sailed fairly close in to the western shore to avoid most of the craft and we had only just passed the Royal Yacht Squadron when they fired their cannon for the cruiser race. Now I know why there weren’t any boats just there. The wind was now very light and NE, but we were making good progress thanks to the tide. This was impressive as indicated by the Gurnard Ledge buoy. A combination of camp bed poles made a useful jib stick and life was pleasant in the warm sun with the Solent like a mill pond. Dolphins were seen off Thorness Bay and this made us feel really at sea.

Keyhaven seemed to be an ideal place for the night and so, being over on the Yarmouth side, I rowed a good 1.5 miles to Hurst Castle to avoid being swept back up the Solent when the tide turned. We landed at Hurst Beach at 14.15 and spent an amusing hour or so making a boat from driftwood. This was last seen with its three polythene sails pulling well, close to the wind, heading for Lymington! When the tide had begun to flood, we launched off the beach and ghosted up to Keyhaven. We found that the stakes really do mark the channel and cutting corners made the centreboard scrape the mud once or twice. We landed at Keyhaven, and just had time to buy some supplies before the village shop shut. The camping was good and right by the quay — most convenient. The pub was sampled, but we had to turn-in reasonably early so as to be up in the morning for the tide.

The next morning we were off at 9.40, and sailed through Hurst narrows with a moderate north wind on the first of the ebb tide. The visibility was not good, unfortunately, but otherwise the conditions were excellent for cruising with a good knot of tide under us. We could only see one other small craft — a Silhouette sailing on a westerly course to the south east of us, although as we neared Christchurch Harbour, a couple of sailing craft were seen coming out. At about this time, we began to joke about sailing on to Poole Harbour, and eventually we decided to follow the Silhouette which was now to the south of us (having her outboard going) across Christchurch Ledge. So we swung south for a bit and then chased him. He appeared to fare all right across the ledge, so we continued and found very little in the way of tidal disturbances. Just as we were crossing the Ledge there was a loud clonk as something hit the boat. Horrible thoughts of jagged rocks and tide races flooded to my mind, but in fact we had sailed over a glass fisherman’s buoy with no damage.

There was only a small chop on Poole Bay and we made good progress on a reach and eventually landed at Studland Bay at 13.40. That’s a good 17 nautical miles in 4 hours — thus 4.25 knots average. It does not sound much, and of course the tide was with us, but for a very well-laden Heron it’s not bad. After a rest and a biscuit on the sand, we enquired and found that camping between Swanage and Poole Harbour is not permitted, and so we decided on Poole Harbour for the night. It was a hard beat up into Poole Harbour entrance round the training bank, but once in the channel the strong flood helped us in and we tacked up round the northern shore of Brownsea Island and decided to make for Shipstal Point up the Wych Channel. A fast reach landed us there in the usual Poole Harbour mud and we were rather exhausted after our day’s run. It started to rain as soon as the tent was up and we lay there for a while to recover, before cooking up some supper.

For the next day we had a plan to be up in good time and sail down to Sandbanks on the ebb and then wait there for the east-going stream to help us back towards the Solent. However, the next morning when I woke up, it was blowing half a gale, raining and twenty past nine, so Wednesday was spent walking a good nine miles to Stoborough near Wareham to buy food. On returning to the tent, lugging a great box of food, there was a man waiting for us in this lonely place. His message was “You can’t camp here, it belongs to the N.S.P.B.” So be warned all ye who land at Shipstal Point! We assured him that we would move as soon as the tide came in and he seemed quite happy with this. Of course the tide was not due in until nearly dark and so we had to stay the next night.

Thursday morning saw us beating down the Wych Channel with no jib and a very large reef in the main. We had decided to call it a day and make for Poole and a very wet sail we had too. The Poole Harbour chop was on the water (and I dread to think of what else by the taste of it) by the time we landed at Poole we were wet right through. I was surprised how close to the wind Katy would sail in these conditions.

The rest of the story reads like a long distance motoring treasure hunt, for we caught a train to Southampton and then a bus to Warsash, where we had left the car and trailer. We then drove back to Poole, loaded up the boat and drove back to Surrey from there.

A very enjoyable week’s holiday, despite the fact that we finished early, and like all good dinghy cruises, wets your appetite for more.