This was to be the second DCA attempt to link the Wey & Arun rivers, following Dashwood’s 1867 voyage from Weybridge to Lymington, just before the Wey & Arun Canal was closed.

Four DCA members applied to take part, but three of us were pensioners, with Talbot Kirk the eldest at 88. We hardly were in the best age range for the strenuous work of manhandling heavily loaded canoes up and down steep and muddy stream banks, but in any case, the matter was settled when the second Great Gale blocked what little streams that had been available with fallen trees.

We decided upon a second alternative — to retrace the Pallingham Lock to Lymington part of Dashwood’s voyage, but we couldn’t find a suitable boat. So we settled for a Solent and Wight cruise taking in the DCA Newtown River rally.

We launched at Calshott, and for the first night anchored in Alum Bay. We used a Westerly Nimrod, but as the cockpit bailers leaked, two of us had to bivouac on shore each night. An early start was necessary the next day to slip round the Needles at slack water, picking up the new flood on the south side of the Wight. The forecast was force 3 variable, but by the time we reached St Catherine’s the wind was up to force 5 and NE, kicking up a nasty sea, which promised a struggle to reach Bembridge Ledge before the tide turned against us. We therefore turned back and ran easily over the tide to the Needles again, re‑entering the Solent. We spent the night in Oxey Lake near Lymington, where camping ashore is no problem.

Sailing over to the rally next day, a number of members who had only read about Talbot Kirk were able to meet him at last. The following day John Buckley had to leave us with his boat to go to a christening, so after dropping him at Calshott, we sailed up the Beaulieu River on the tide before returning to spend the night in Ashlett Creek.

Now, some members complain that I am no respecter of the DCA’s hallowed traditions. This is untrue, and I can prove it! It is a DCA tradition that members get stuck in the mud in Ashlett Creek and have to wade through mud and water towing their boats out. I followed this tradition when a headwind prevented me from rowing or sailing out of the narrow creek at low tide. After dragging the 18’ boat the length of the southerly reach, mud and water up to my waist, when at last I got to the easterly reach… yes, you’ve guessed it — the wind suddenly turned easterly

How about someone in the north-west arranging something next year?