Portsmouth International Festival Of The Sea - August 28th - 31st

It was at the Bristol 1996 International Festival of the Sea that I met Roger Barnes sailing about in Baggywrinkle and was convinced by him that the DCA was a good thing. I had been there in some comfort in Windrift, but if he could be there in a 12 ft Tideway, I could do the same in my undecked Tideway Dinah at Portsmouth IFOS in August. In fact she was the only Tideway there. The organisers had learned a lot since the previous event, which was obvious from the moment I arrived at the gates of H.M. Dockyard, the site of the huge Festival.

'Dinah' in Basin 2, Portsmouth IFOS Berthing was much better managed, although the small open boat moorings had the inconvenience of being accessible only by boat. I dealt with this by using Dinah as her own tender, and spent much of the festival moving about by water. There were quite a few DCA flags to be seen, but due to the plethora of other flags they were not very obvious. There was a significant fleet of West Wight Potters, including those of Bob Lomas and David Morl. There was also an even larger fleet of assorted Drascombes, one of which gave me a welcome tow from the slipway to the basin against a foul wind and tide (I apologise for not being able to mention any more names for either of these fleets).

I met briefly: Hugh Clay with Eel, David Weinstock with his Norfolk Oyster engaged in sailing for the disabled, Ted and Steven Hunt without boat, and Charles Stock with Shoalwaters. There were other members that I failed to write in my notebook, and other boats that, while very much in the DCA tradition, were not members. It was however a proper DCA event with many people living aboard their small boats, and everyone doing their own thing. The big advantage that Portsmouth IFOS had over its predecessor was that we could get out of the basin and go rowing and sailing, and I took every opportunity to do so; it was, in fact, the most interesting way of getting about the place and avoid the crowds. It also allowed us to go out racing, and I was pleased to be able to win the open sailing boat series on handicap, and carry off a very nice prize; who said DCA members are not interested in racing? So vast was the show that I never did get to the Navy part, and nearly missed the superb display of model ships. And the weather was excellent. Altogether a thoroughly enjoyable if exhausting four days of a very well managed event.

The Solent - September 1st - 4th

As the Navy wanted their dockyard back, we had to leave on Tuesday morning. So I recovered Dinah, drove to Buckler's Hard on the Beaulieu River, launched again and took the last of the ebb down to the Solent. I was bit horrified at the cost of launching and parking for three days but I was too tired go looking for an alternative. I was later mollified by not having to pay anything to anyone elsewhere in the Solent.

The wind which had been brisk, fell light and variable giving me a bit of everything as struggled to get out of the river before the tide turned. It then settled to a light easterly bringing the romantic sight of a square rigger under full sail from the eye of the wind. But it did not last, the ship furled her sails and I started to row across the Solent to Newtown. The breeze returned as I reached the Isle of Wight shore - but from the West; so began the thankless task of tacking against wind and tide.

After quite a while of painfully poor progress, I did not like the look of what was coming in from the west. So, when tantalisingly short of Newtown entrance, I put the helm up and ran with the strong tide for Cowes; covering the five miles in less time than it took to make half a mile of progress in the other direction. I sailed up the Medina looking for a sheltered place to spend the night, but almost reached Newport without finding what I wanted. So I returned to the Folly Inn at Whippingham where I found shelter in the lee of a large Cornish lugger Snowdrop which had been at IFOS. I spent the evening in the company of their musician crew before retiring to my tent for the night. Their departure at 0530 was a minor disturbance; but I just sculled, with the tent still in place to a vacant buoy in the still of the morning to wait for a fair tide down river.

After rowing to Cowes I found a little north-easterly breeze as forecast, which was enough with the tide to sweep Dinah past Gurnard at an impressive rate. But it soon fell so light that it was only just enough to keep her pointing in the right direction, even with the spinnaker set. But, Solent tides being what they are, I was at Newtown entrance again within two hours after a very relaxing passage. I chose the Western Haven as being the best of the several creeks to provide shelter in the strong north-westerlies that were forecast. I put Dinah aground on the falling tide, sprawled myself in the boat to doze in the warm sunshine and do nothing for the first time since I left home in Cornwall.

Newtown River is a magical place, every bit as beautiful as everyone says it is; a remarkable survival of wild unspoiled land and water in the highly developed Solent area. Where I lay there was not a sight or sound of people, only the call of the curlew and oystercatcher and the strutting of the white egrets who have found a haven here as they have in Cornwall. My reverie was eventually broken by the first spots of the promised rain falling while the sun still shone. I quickly put up the tent and, at last, caught up with my neglected journal of the Festival and cruise so far. A brief lull in the rain allowed me to take a walk in the dripping woods and fields in the dull evening light, before turning in with the return of the rain.

And rain it did - all night. Stopping only just in time for me to pack up and have a pleasant row to the head of navigation of the creek in the breathless silence of the morning. The mist was still lingering, but the sun had come out by mid morning, when I sailed out of the river entrance in the fair tide running westwards, and tacked along the coast in a nice breeze - all that Dinah wanted with full sail. By the time we got to Yarmouth the mist had cleared and it was a lovely day; the harbour was not busy, and I was able to sail in to find a berth with the dinghies at a pontoon (boats up to 12 ft - very convenient). So it was easy to go ashore to wander in the town and raid the second-hand book shop with its good maritime section.

When I judged that the tide was about to turn in the Solent, I took the last of the ebb out of the harbour in the dying breeze and headed for the Beaulieu River. I aimed for the English side well to the west of my destination to allow for the tide, but the wind backed and strengthened again, so I got there earlier than I had expected. Then followed an exhilarating run, goosewinged, along the shore in company with a much larger yacht which only very slowly overtook Dinah. So quick in fact was the passage that it was still low water at Beaulieu River entrance, and I got tangled up with the extensive shoals off Needs Ore and Gull Island. There it was so shallow that I found I was sailing 'with the brakes on' and the rudder scraping the bottom. But I could just slide over the training bank into the river well to the west of the proper entrance, to meet the wind, by then a good force four, right on the nose, so I reefed and, for a while, the spray flew, and so did the sheets, as I short tacked up the channel; the posts marking the edges of the channel meant what they said! Past Needs Ore, on the inside this time, the wind freed and lessened over the land, and soon dropped light enough to shake out the reef. It then became so fluky that I rowed the last mile up to Bailey's Hard a little short of Beaulieu village. There I settled for the night in complete peace; opposite what must be some of the most expensive houses on the South Coast, several with their own private landing pontoons. The next morning it surprised me to find it took an hour to row down to Buckler's Hard against the incoming tide; later, when I found that it was two and a half miles, I was not surprised. The second leg of my cruise ended when I recovered Dinah. It had been a complete contrast to the first leg and a welcome break from the 300,000 people who had visited IFOS. Again the weather had suited perfectly, the rain serving only to enforce much needed rest and the wind being never stronger than 'interesting'.

Bala - September 4th - 6th

Then followed the long drive to Bala in North Wales to attend the Tideway Owners Association meeting. We stayed at the Glan Llyn campsite in the south-west corner of the Lake, and launched over the very shallow but hard beach. The lake is much like Coniston, but not so long nor quite so grand and it suffers from the same uncertainty of the winds due to the surrounding mountains. It does however make very nice cruising area eminently suitable for the DCA. We had a very pleasant weekend sailing in conditions ranging from rowing to reefing, and incorporated a treasure hunt around the lake. It made a nice social tail-piece to an eleven day cruise in three very contrasting parts. I think I liked the Solent interlude best, it was the epitome of a dinghy cruise.