This concerns a near-miss that better seamanship would not have allowed to develop in the first place. Night sailing is a valid part of dinghy cruising when it is prepared for properly, but entering unfamiliar unlit places in the dark is always folly.

Jenny and I planned to attend the rally at Newtown River, IoW, on the weekend just after midsummer this year in Speedy, B90, our 16’ 6” Beaufort. See Doug Heslop’s article in Bulletin 147. Weather was fine steady and reliable under the influence of high pressure centred on Scotland. Wind was forecast to remain from the northerly quarter and in the 3/4/5 range until Tuesday, as it had been for a few days already. So we thought these were conditions not to be missed for a ‘round the island’ cruise, but this time in the clockwise direction, since we had done it the more usual other way round in a previous year. Tide times, Portsmouth HW 9 o’clock-ish were just right too.

With my new job hours, we can get away from Horsham mid-afternoon and we decided to keep the trailing to a minimum by launching from Itchenor in Chichester Harbour which we duly did at about 1930 on Friday.

While rigging the boat on Chichester hard, the breeze had been gentle and onshore southerly. Tacking down Chichester Channel we were nearly run down by a big yacht motoring with main and large genoa set. He agreed when challenged that he had not seen me until the very last moment — first lucky break of the weekend.

Soon the breeze died and we were making no progress against the incoming tide so on with the Seagull and horrid noise. I guessed we had experienced the death of the day’s sea breeze and we would soon get the real NE breeze which would give us a fast run to Bembridge.

After an hour’s motoring, well out of the harbour and still no breeze, we discussed turning back rather than possibly having to motor all the way and/or arriving in the dark at the unlit Bembridge. We chose to carry on; we did not feel under any threat from the weather and are quite confident in our large dinghy. Anyway it’s very difficult to turn back don’t you find?

After another hour’s motoring and now well on our way on compass bearing 249° magnetic a slight breeze did come up. So engine was stopped and we sailed with full genoa and only one reef in main — I have full racing sails totalling 176 sq ft and get good performance in light airs but need to reef whenever there is anything stronger. Time was now 2140, around sunset and visibility quite good. I thought there would be enough light left to get into Bembridge even though I knew that there are no lights in the entrance channel beyond St Helen’s Fort. I was kidding myself that at mid-summer ‘it never really goes dark’. That may be true in Scotland or even Northumberland but we were soon to find out that it gets quite black in southern England on a moonless night.

Well to begin with this little breeze was from the west and we were close hauled to keep near 249°. Over the next hour the wind veered and increased until we had N/NE 4-5 . By then we had furled some of the roller reefing genny and now we hove to and reefed the main down to the third row.

Light was going fast, boat was going too fast, and I was still relying on the compass bearing and my memory that the skyline dips over Bembridge. Still could not pick out the only feature I could be sure of, St Helen’s Fort. Its light according to my, uncorrected for many years, Stanfords chart , is Gp Fl (3) 10 secs.

Ah! There it is, alter course towards it. Feel better now that I’ve got something definite to steer for.

Not long afterwards we let pass close to port either Horse Elbow buoy, Gp Fl (3) G 10 secs or Dean Tail buoy, Gp Fl (30) G 15 secs. My mental timing suggests the former — there is no chance of using a watch. Either way it was not the white light of St Helen’s Fort. I was now getting anxious as I was aware that things were not shaping well for a nice landfall and the comfortable night we had been looking forward to, dried out on the sandy beach at Bembridge.

Mistaking a buoy’s green light for the Fort’s white lowered confidence but now we knew there was still two or three miles to run so we just headed for the dip in the skyline which was pretty well in line with my compass course anyway — I could no longer read the compass in the dark. Then we had to gybe to avoid an anchored ship which had powerful deck lights blazing, spoiling my night vision. Usually the Beaufort is a delight to gybe, under complete control, but not so tonight. I had reefed the genoa to a little hanky to try to slow down and the gybe did not go well so that we nearly broached and shipped a few gallons over the side. Thinking about it now it might have been better to let out some more genny before gybing which would have speeded the boat up and reduced the load on the main. But we were already going too fast for comfort in the dark. Can’t remember but I had probably not raised the centreplate after being close hauled earlier so that probably made things worse.

After passing the dazzling ship my view forward improved and at last I could see the white light Gp Fl (3) 10 secs which this time must be the fort. When it was abeam we dropped the main and carried on with just a little of the genny showing, still sailing fast in what must have been quite a strong breeze. Now although I’ve been three times into Bembridge it has always been in daylight. This time I felt completely helpless since I did not have in my head a mental picture of the layout of the place nor the way the channel twists through what is a very shallow entrance. We had the Solent chart and Adlard Coles’ Pilot to the South Coast Harbours but reading these was difficult while helming and using the torch on them spoilt my night vision. This I wanted to preserve because all I could see ahead apart from useless shore lights was the conspicuous white slab daymark to the north of the entrance.

After passing the fort I saw nothing until a sea wall with buildings above was close to port. I turned to starboard and almost straight away found myself heading for a row of very ugly looking piles. Fortunately the boat came even further round and we managed to sail parallel to these obstructions until, when past them, we saw our first buoy, No 9A, green.

Then using our head torches we found and passed Nos 10 and 11A and turned left towards where we thought the beach was. Still not sure of our situation and rather shaken by the escape from the groin, as it later turned out to be, I next found us closing with a line of moored boats and a man in a rubber dinghy who said something about a boat adrift. At first I thought he was complaining about my sudden, apparently uncontrolled arrival on the scene. Just before we hit anything Jenny put the kedge anchor over the side and we came to a stop. Phew!

It then turned out that during its owner’s absence a bilge-keeler had dragged its anchor and run down onto a fleet of Dragon keel-boats that were moored in the fairway. The man in the rubber dinghy has seen this and was trying to take control of the runaway while someone else had gone to look for the owner. Once I realised that the drama was not of our making I put the engine on and drove our boat onto the beach, carried the big anchor ashore, rowed the boat back off the beach and dropped the kedge so we were moored safely clear of the yachts. Time was now 2330 and we could start settling in for the night. Tent was soon up and we eventually got into sleeping bags at 0045.

I had to get up at 0330 to silence the topping lift, thrumming in the strong wind. An hour later got up again and went for a walk to have a look at the scene of the previous night’s fright. At low water all was revealed. How lucky we had been struck home. We had sailed over the shallows in a direct line south from the Fort, totally missing the buoyed channel and had a very close shave indeed with the groin that extends out from Bembridge Point on the south side of the harbour. Just as possible and nasty would have been an encounter with its partner that projects out of the north side. Could not sleep any more.

At breakfast time the wind was still full force 5 north-easterly and Radio Solent gave forecast as NE/N 4-5 occasionally 6. Decided to abandon original round the island plan because I was too tired after the previous night and to go so far downwind when I had to get back to Chichester in time to be at work on Monday was just not on. If there had been a prospect of the wind going round to the westerly quarter on Sunday, decision may have been different. Also I did not fancy trying to beat up the Needles Channel and through Hurst Narrows against a brisk north-easter late on Saturday. So once more I rationalised my way to taking a day off sailing and instead spent a pleasant time on the island with Bus Rover tickets and took in the Botanic Gardens at Ventnor (recommended) and the Donkey etc. Sanctuary near Wroxall. Finally we caught buses to get to Shalfleet and meet ralliers Len Wingfield and Richard Hignett with young crew as they sailed up to their overnight place in Shalfleet Creek, Newtown River. Jenny and I then got buses back to Bembridge for Saturday night and sailed back to Chichester on Sunday, dawdling in very light conditions and taking about six hours to get to East Head. A very pleasant day, just what the doctor ordered after Friday night!