What an absolutely fascinating issue 121 was — should the DCA discourage inexperienced ‘cruisers’ from attending rallies? How do we gain experience if we don’t go? If each rally announcement is prefaced with a government health warning equivalent then it won’t be the DCA’s fault if anything goes wrong — and I have no doubt the argument will continue to go round and round in circles.

Perhaps the experiences of an inexperienced ‘cruiser’ on his first DCA rally would be of interest. First, however, a little about me and my boat. In my younger days I was a London Sea Scout and in the 20 years since, I have grabbed infrequent opportunities to sail, usually odd days crewing on 40 footers in the Solent. For one week in each of the last 7 years, I have been fortunate enough to skipper open half deckers on the Norfolk Broads for a young persons’ Christian camp. 3 years ago, I bought my first boat — Wanderer 467. Although she was chosen for her all round capabilities, she is usually confined to a gravel pit in Maidenhead, but has been to the Broads and to Salcombe. I have never capsized her myself, but she has been over twice and I know that she ‘turtles’ completely, so I certainly did not want to try it out loaded with kit.

So, having been frustrated the year before by a force 9, I was off to the South Coast rally at Wootton Creek on 22 May 1988.

SATURDAY: Sailed from Warsash, late morning, with my brother as crew. Simon wasn’t exactly a novice, but he didn’t know much about dinghies and we had not sailed together before. Bright sunshine, good breeze; main and small jib; boat quite loaded, but all safely stowed away. Had an exhilarating afternoon, but took longer than anticipated.

Off Wootton: not making much headway against wind and tide; hadn’t realised how strong tide was until passing close to a buoy. Dropped cruising jib and raised genoa which gave us enough to get into creek. Beautiful, quiet, still, late sunshine. Rowed and sailed to head of creek where we were greeted by a couple of others who pointed out good mooring. Tidied up and threw tarpaulin over boom for our makeshift tent. Off to the pub where we met the others. Fish & chips and a couple more beers; interesting experiences, especially when we discovered that clean, smart looking person (Hugh) who asked if we were DCA had just come in from Itchenor on his sailboard — and up the creek in the pitch dark.

Back to the boat: are Wanderers really meant to be slept in?

SUNDAY: Bright morning, which improved when another crew lent us their camping burner to make a cup of tea (next time, check ours is working before we leave home). Had to row against the wind, but by the time we got near the entrance, it was too strong; grabbed a buoy and wondered what to do. Len in his Wayfarer was on the mud nearby. Watched some locals rig their dinghies then, obviously deciding it was too strong, unrig them. Tide falling rapidly; how will I get round that dog-leg? Perhaps we should get the ferry and come back with the car and trailer.

Wayfarer went off under reefed main only. If he can do it single handed, maybe we can? Reefed main only — we did it. In main channel getting the hang of the wind and waves; sitting out; on a broad reach down the line of marker posts, when the ferry decided to leave. “Have you seen the ferry?” said Simon. “Yes,” said I, concentrating on keeping 467 upright. Simon repeated his question and I looked round — grief! It looked like a tower block. Since I didn’t know what was outside the posts on this falling tide, I sailed across him to the other side — he wasn’t happy, but then neither was I.

Making for the nearest bit of mainland; very broad reach; must be at least a 5. It’s taking a lot of concentration and at times I seem to be eyeball to eyeball with the wave tops. Small yacht on collision course from starboard; my right of way and she must see that it’s not exactly easy for us. Keeps coming — I yell and luff up; minor panic on yacht; man appears and takes helm from woman. Phew, panic over, but wary now of small trawler steaming across from port. Of course, he sees me, but just keeps coming — luff up again and wonder how we have kept her upright. The other side and some protection from the wind. Drop main and, on small jib only, sail all the way back to Warsash; uneasy for most of the way in choppy following seas and wind.

Dry land, dog tired, relief, exhilaration, happiness, achievement; respect, fear: my emotions were many. What did I learn — apart from a lot about myself and my boat:

— don’t trust anybody in a bigger boat — keep out of the way of ferries — a DCA rally is just a meeting point: you’re on your own — you learn by doing it — would I do it again — YES