It is like the Solent with islands, but it goes on for miles and miles and miles and it is always high tide. But I didn’t know that until, on 29th May 2003, I sailed out into the southern Baltic from the yacht haven at Faaborg on the south cost of Fyn, the second largest of the several islands that make up the eastern part of Denmark. It was actually quite difficult to learn much about the area in advance. I had Danish maps, a pilot book and photocopies of German charts. But still I could not get the ‘feel’ of the place as a dinghy cruising area or a clear idea of the distances that might realistically be covered. I knew that the South Baltic being tideless must be a bit like a lake, but could not judge how this might affect planning a cruise.

Having taken the overnight ferry from Harwich to Esbjerg with Jady Lane (an eighty year old clinker built, fourteen-foot, half-decked, gunter yawl) in tow, I was at Faaborg in the early afternoon and under sail at 1600. It took a bit of time to find the slipway at the western marina. But the slipway was good and there was plenty of parking for car and trailer. There was a light southerly breeze as I tacked gently out into the bay on a bright sunny afternoon. (I will use English spelling at place names, all those mentioned ending in ‘o’ should have a line through it and that means they are islands). I looked at the innermost island Bjorno and decided it was too early to stop for the night, so I carried on through the channel between it and the mainland to look at an inlet marked on the maps just close to the shore and the entrance seemed to have been blocked off by a sea wall. So I went outside to try to go to Lyo, which would provide shelter and a good jumping of point for the passage up the east side of the Little Belt which was a vague plan.

But no sooner had I got clear of the shallow water than it became flat calm and it looked a long way to row to Lyo. So I turned back to my first choice and rowed to the north side of Bjorno, where I ran Jady Lane on to the beach in the shade of a willow tree at 1900hrs. The hard sandy bottom was shallow for a long way out so was perfect for stepping ashore in gumboots. I knew there was some rise and fall caused by the tide and some by the wind, but I had no means of knowing how much. So after supper and a walk along the shore I pushed Jady Lane off into about 3 ft of water and hoped for the best.

I had a very good night’s sleep and found that on this occasion the tide had indeed dropped about a foot, so I had saved myself a struggle pushing off. I could get BBC Radio 4 on long wave and heard the shipping forecast at 0630 local time in which German Bight, the nearest area just across Jutland, seemed settled. The warm sunny morning was still flat calm so I set off at 0800 to row through the channel and across to Lyo. Quite a vigorous 3½ miles to start the morning, and it took 1½ hours (all times and distances in nautical miles are approximate). At Lyo I went into the typical little yacht haven beside the ferry landing causeway, and found more visiting German yachts than Danish; but yachts are well provided for with lavatories, showers, and rubbish disposals at each one of the havens that can be found all round the coasts.

By the time I had looked round and brewed up the wind had appeared from the north west so I set off with several other yachts to tack out towards the Little Belt and round the corner into Helnaes Bay and across to the waterside village of Faldsled. There I began to realise that the assertion that most Danes understand and speak English might apply to tourist areas, but was not true in out of the way boating places. I also found it was difficult to understand the description of the goods at the Spa grocery, so I went away with an eccentric array of fresh supplies to complement the basics that I had brought with me. I returned to Jady Lane, and had a stiff row to get out of the harbour to set the sails for an equally stiff tack across to Vigo, a small wooded island a mile out into Helnaes Bay.

There I anchored very close to the beach in good shelter from the wind, set the tepee and relaxed listening to the mass of bird song from among the trees and the surreal effect of the three tone cuckoo calling as it flew across the bay. As the evening drew on I laid out the second anchor to stop the boat swinging about and set up the boat cover, only to find the wind suddenly swing round to the south-east, leaving us very close to the lee shore. So leaving to cover up I got in both anchors and sculled and ‘sailed’ the boat through the very shallow strait at the end of the island and brought up again in a small patch of calm in the lee of the woods, albeit ringed round with boulders and a bit close to the clatter and croaking of a heronry among the trees.

Nor was that the end of my troubles for at 0330 I woke to find Jady Lane dancing to her anchors disturbingly close to those boulders with the wind back in the north-west. I lay worrying about it until 0400 when I decided to move, I had a cup of tea to get me going, did a quick stow of the gear in just enough light to see what I was doing, set foresail and mizzen to reach gently down the windward side of the adjacent island of Illum. The wind was not in fact as strong as I thought so I soon added the mainsail and still found that Ilium seemed to go on forever. Then I saw the crescent sun rise red over the mainland, it was 31st May the day of the annual eclipse, which I understand was obscured by clouds in England. I finally rounded the end of the island and ran on to the beach in the shelter of some trees at 0600 for a much-needed breakfast, the sun was still crescent shaped and not yet providing any warmth.

One of the great advantages of single-handed dinghy cruising with plenty of time is that plans, if there are any, can be infinitely flexible. The present north-west wind made the passage up the Little Belt an unhappy prospect, so I made an instant decision to sail straight across to the north end of Als Fjord which could be done with a close reach. I set off under full sail, but soon paused under the lee of Helnaes to tuck in a reef, then out into what was in effect open sea. The land on the other side was 9 miles away invisible in the haze, so I set a compass course allowing for leeway and to provide a good offing for the northern tip of Als, and had a really good sail under a cloudless sky, just far enough off the wind that I did not need to concentrate too closely and only needing occasional sessions on the side deck in the gusts.

I saw no other boats until I closed the land on the other side 11 miles and 3 hrs later, except a sand dredger trundling down from the north which wanted to use the same bit of water that I did. As he was bigger than Jady Lane and on my starboard side, I lay to for a few minutes to let him past. Just as I reached the northernmost point of Als, the wind dropped away and headed me — shaking out the reef and changing to the light foresail were to no avail — it fell flat calm and the heat of the sun soon made itself known. As the beach was open and inhospitable, there was nothing for it but to row, and row I did for 5 weary hot miles. Several stirrings of wind came to nothing — it was the only time I doubted my wisdom in leaving the outboard motor at home.

Eventually I turned the corner into Als Fjord then turned again into an inlet called Stegsvig where a little breeze came from the west and blew Jady Lane gently to a likely looking place on the north shore where I brought up in the shade of a poplar tree. I set the tepee, lay down and went to sleep, and spent the rest of the afternoon and evening at peace with the world, occasionally watching the apparently endless procession of yachts going up the channel on the other side to disappear round the corner into the inner recesses of the inlet, which must have become very crowded by evening, while I had all the outer part to myself, and the best night’s sleep yet.

Old farmhouse in Stevning Nor

I got under way at 0800 in lovely sunshine but no wind so rowed up the inlet, against a stream of yachts motoring out, to find the inner lagoon called Dyvig surrounded by woods providing a spacious and perfectly sheltered anchorage as well as having a sizeable channel to a further reed lined lagoon called Miels Vig that looked exactly like a Norfolk Broad with a tiny rural yacht haven at the end. There I stopped in the shade of the trees and had lunch in wonderful peace scarcely believing that this could be part of the sea. Returning to Stegsvig I found a breeze had filled in from the southeast so I had a brisk sail hard on the wind down Als Fjord to another inlet 7 miles away Stevning Nor which I had selected from the map. I went past the yacht haven, though a very narrow passage into an inner lagoon only accessible to small boats and anchored there at 1800 again in perfect peace and seclusion for the night.

I was underway at 0730 tacking southeast down the Fjord to Augustenborg, pausing halfway to put in a reef, reaching the pleasant but not very interesting town in 0930. After getting fresh supplies (fresh milk would not keep in the hot weather and long life or powdered was not obtainable) I was concerned about the strong of the wind in the absence of a good forecast. With difficulty I was able to learn from a fisherman that it would be ‘fresh not storm’, so, still reefed, I shot out again and up the fjord with the wind right aft to where the Als Sound leads off to the south to Sonderborg, and there stopped on the beach for lunch and a decision on where to go next. I had intended to go both to Middlefart in the north and to Flensburg in Germany to the south, and, as I did not fancy the thrash to windward down Als Sound, but the wind was fair for the north, the decision was again taken for me.

Jady Lane in Genner Bay, Jutland

Away Jady Lane went with reefed main and foresail boomed out on an exhilarating run up Als Fjord, unusually in company with several other yachts that took a long time to pass her. We ran past Stegsvig, out of Als Fjord, past Abenra Fjord on the mainland where cross seas made things a bit too exciting, and up the coast inside Barso and into Genner Bay — 14 miles in 3 hours. There I anchored in good shelter close to a wooded hill beside an inlet on the south side with three other yachts. I telephoned Ruth at home almost every day to keep her informed of these sudden changes of ‘last known position’, as there does not seem to be a coastguard like ours. We hoped therefore that if I disappeared our coastguard would be able to make enquiries with some chance of success; fortunately it did not happen so we don’t know if it would have worked. I was slightly surprised that no one seemed to take any official notice of me and Jady Lane at all, even though we flew the red ensign, the Dannebrog courtesy flag and of course the DCA flag.

Early rain and very little wind set a very different scene in the morning, so it was not until 1030 that I got under way for an unpromising tack out of the bay. I was however kindly helped by a Danish yacht Kristin, who turned back after motoring out of the bay, and gave me a tow out to Barso, where they went off south, leaving me with a much improved offing for the passage north. Even so, although I could just fetch the headland 5 miles away, it took 2½ hours to reach it, but there fortunately the wind began to increase for the rest of the way up the coast, and on rounding the next headland I had a good reach to Aro, 13 miles from Genner Bay. Aro is a small very flat island at the narrowest part of the Little Belt, but it has the usual yacht haven and an attractive village. I spent the night anchored close inshore beside the haven as it offered the only shelter from the east, but it was a poor substitute for the idyllic places I had stopped at recently. I could have berthed inside any of the havens but, apart from avoiding paying dues, a camping cover is scant insulation and privacy for such a public place.

For no very good reason, except perhaps laziness, I decided to abandon the idea of going further north. The morning was dull and looked unsettled with a couple of showers early, so it was not until 0930 that I grabbed a stray patch of wind and got round to the south of Aro where it left me to row some - rain some - sail some, until it settled in the southeast so I could fetch Assens on the Fyn side 5 miles away, and it took 2 hours. Assens is a nice small town with a fair sized harbour and shipyard, plenty of shops and a huge church, but as usual I did not stay long. A short sharp tack just 2 miles to the south took me to the shallow bay on the north side of Toro where I brought up for the day on the beach sheltered by such tall poplar trees that Jady Lane was in their shade at 1500.

I spent a pleasant afternoon and evening wandering on the island and beach and doing nothing, although I did manage to get a forecast from one of the two yachts anchored off the beach, which suggested nothing much would happen for the next two days but it would be bad on Sunday. There was a dramatic and perhaps ominous sunset, but all was quiet and I was congratulating myself on another good night stop. That is until I woke at 2200 to the roar of the wind in the trees and flashes of lighting across the water, but as I watched, the storm seemed to pass well to the west and there was very little rain. But I had not settled down again before it proved to be only an outlier to a Mother of Thunderstorms, which passed right overhead. There was a mighty wind that mercifully stayed the other side of the trees, huge thunder and lightning, torrential rain all of which set the sea heaving. It gradually moved away leaving Jady Lane and me unharmed and thankful for an efficient boat cover, so I could drop of by 0030 for the remainder of the night undisturbed.

After brushing off the accumulated leaves and twigs I got under way at 0730 in bright sunshine with a good fair breeze from the west. I tried to go through the gap between the island and the shore, but it did not seem to be there, so I wasted an hour of fair wind by the time I had gone back round the seaward end of the island to head south down the coast. I was navigating from official Danish land maps at 1:100,000 scale (approx. 1/2”:1 mile), these were excellent for dinghy use as a reasonable area was displayed in an A4 size clear waterproof case and I know Jady Lane will float on anything marked blue, and there are also marine contours at 4 and 10 meters. But there was a gap of a few miles between my maps, so I had some difficulty deciding which headland was which as they kept appearing out of the haze ahead. In the end I was able to identify the lighthouse on Helnaes, but as soon as I passed it the wind dropped so that even after changing to the light foresail we stopped. As often seems to happen, a quarter of an hour of rowing miraculously restored the wind, fortunately still from the same direction. Indeed it increased steadily so that it was quite lively by the time I reached Lyo and brought up in the corner of the beach in the lee of some trees and the ferry causeway, after a run of 18 miles in 6 hours.

I have unfortunately developed a low disturbance threshold, so I did not have a good night as the wind had gone more north-westerly giving me scantly shelter and setting the cover fretting and rattling. However in the morning it was a short run with a fair wind back to Faaborg where I found the car and trailer untouched. So Jady Lane was soon ashore under her cover at the side of the marina and I was off to a campsite not for away with a fine view across the island. And there I watched the storm lash up the sea on Sunday as forecast, then off to Copenhagen for three days to be a tourist before returning to continue the cruise.

Among South Sea Islands of the Baltic

At the end of my eight day cruise to the west of Faaborg at the beginning of June, I went to see Copenhagen and a few other bits of Denmark, returning to Faaborg to relaunch Jady Lane on Saturday 14th June. I was under way again at 0930 in a moderate westerly breeze, which was ideal for a broad reach down the fjord for 8 miles to the eastern end of Avernako. The islands are generally fairly flat but this one has a substantial hill in the lee of which l found a delightful beach where I spent the rest of the morning wandering on the hill and relaxing in the sunshine.

Jady Lane, Aidan and Dinah

I have recently been trying to avoid the risk of ‘canal fever’ (the morbid desire to keep moving that afflicts people in narrow boats and can also affect dinghy cruisers), and so I was comfortable there in the sunshine reading, thinking or just sitting. But in the course of thinking I realized that I had only five days before I was due to meet fellow DCA member John Mason on Thursday back at Faaborg. So somewhat reluctantly I got under way at 1500 for an easy reach across to Aeroskobing, 9 miles away on Aero, seeing on the way one of the local boats with its characteristic square headed sprit sail that is so rare these days. It was difficult to see where the town was on this very long low island, but a compass course brought me to the right place, and I stopped just off the beach in a bit of shelter close to the old commercial harbour now used by larger yachts.

As it was getting late I only made a brief foray ashore before supper and settling down for the night. In the morning I had a walk in the sunshine through the small town, which is one of the show places of Denmark with narrow streets of unspoilt flower-decked houses and almost no cars; enjoying it in perhaps uncharacteristic quiet, it being Sunday. I left as the church bells were ringing and had an easy sail across the bay with the wind still in the west to round the low point of Ommelshoved and pass inside Halmo in very shallow water to Marstal on the south-eastern tip of Aero. This was once a very important port for the local sailing coasters, and still has a modern working shipyard and a large yacht haven, and is still home to some restored ex-working craft. However there was little to delay me as the good museum was closed by the time I got to it. After a walk round and lunch I sailed straight for Stryno which meant crossing more very shallow water where swans were feeding off the bottom a mile off the tiny bird sanctuary island of Langholm. This ability to make passages direct from place to place is one of the great advantages that dinghies have over yachts that often have to follow very indirect passages in the deep water channels, and also perhaps explained why I always seemed to be sailing on my own. Stryno was much like the other islands with its attractive central village and I found reasonable shelter for the night by the ferry causeway.

Reach to Rudkobing

I was under way at 0800 in a fresh north-westerly wind on a cold and overcast morning, which gave me a good close reach across to Rudkobing, a fair sized town on Langeland. I did not stop there but continued under the high level bridge to come hard on the wind heading north for Svendborg, finding, surprisingly, a good fair current through the narrows. But the wind became erratic in strength and direction as I crossed the wide bay towards the narrow gap in the wooded hills. I set a course to pass close to the large waterside mansion of Valdermarsslot which is open to the public, but got a ‘lift’ from the wind which took Jady Lane nicely up the sound to Blaby on Thuro where there are two important boat building yards. But there the wind failed due to the wooded hills and I had quite a struggle to make further progress, against a foul current and wind, up the very attractive Thuro Sound. This is much like my home sailing waters of the Fal Estuary going up to Truro and I envied the people with houses overlooking the water and wooded banks. I eventually reached the old harbour at Svendborg after sailing 14 miles in 5 hours — about the limit of my attention span. By then fortunately the sun had come out and it was a interesting place to sit and have lunch watching the yachts coming and going, the more so in that Svendborg is a centre for what we call Baltic Traders, ex-working schooners and ketches now restored and mostly fitted out for the charter business under Danish, Swedish or German flags. All too often however these handsome looking vessels are seen motoring rather than sailing, even with a fair wind, doubtless due to the tightly scheduled demands of charterers.

When I came to leave, the wind was doing strange things; having had to row into the old harbour, I now had to row out again only to be completely becalmed in the sound in surprisingly choppy water; this was perhaps due to a strong current that was now fortunately sweeping me westwards where I was heading. Quite soon the wind filled in from the west so I was able to start tacking towards the high level bridge, but conditions quickly became ‘interesting’ as wind over current sharpened the waves and the bridge funnelled the wind, prompting me to put in a reef. I had noticed on the map a small bay on the south side of the sound, which should provide shelter in a westerly wind, but I had a wet rough and tumble tacking to get there. But it was well worth it because it proved to be my favourite of all the night stops. I was able to lay Jady Lane alongside a grassy bank so I could step ashore on to a little peninsula covered with wild flowers and roses with a good sized ash tree for shade from the sun and shelter from the wind, and I had a distant view of Svendborg and the bridge two miles away, while across the hay were reed lined woods without a sign of habitation.

Looking for a lee

After a very good night’s sleep I was further pleased to find that the wind had gone round to the south-east, so the unpleasant prospect of a long tack all the way to Faaborg evaporated in the morning sunshine. I was under way at 0830 for an easy broad reach of 11 miles along the coast to Avernako where I decided to stop, although I could easily have carried on to Faaborg. As it turned out that was not a good idea; the geography of the islands is such that they mostly lie north-west — south-east; so that only their narrow ends give a lee from winds in either of those directions, and the south-east is the most difficult. Initially I sheltered behind the hill on the north side of Avernako, but as the afternoon wore on the wind came more easterly and the waves started to come round the point to make life uncomfortable on, or just off the beach. At 1530 I decided to look for a better berth, which led to a lively close reach across to Nakkebolle Fjord on the mainland, but that was no better so I trickled through the very shallow passage inside Svelmo to look for shelter there, but found none. In the hope that the next day would be fine, and being reluctant to return to Faaborg sooner than necessary, I had a hard wet close-hauled sail back to same beach on Avernako that I had just left. But I had a poor evening with Jady Lane dancing just off the beach, as for some reason the tidal range there was about two feet, so I could not get the boat to dry out on the beach until 2300 when at last I got some peace; then at 0400 it started to rain.

When the morning came I wondered whether to wait in the hope that the rain would stop, but by 0830, fearing that the easterly wind would change or fail, I got under way and had a good 7 mile sail back to Faaborg, but got everything very wet on the way. It was still raining when I recovered at the slipway, so I left Jady Lane on her trailer as she was with her wet camping cover lashed over her, and went off to the campsite to get myself sorted out. By the afternoon the sun was shining so I should have waited, but it did give me the opportunity to go back to the boat and get everything dried out and properly stowed.

Dinah off Faaborg in a blow

Reunion with Dinah, my old Tideway

The next evening John and his son Andrew arrived with their 12ft un-decked Tideway dinghy Dinah in tow, to join me for a few days before my cruise ended. But it blew strong from the west all Thursday and Friday. By this time I had discovered there was a five minute English language news and weather forecast on Danish radio, and this was now augmented by excellent text forecasts, updated every 6 hours, which John received on his mobile telephone from Germany, so at last I had a reasonable idea of what weather to expect. There seems to have been a high-pressure area over the southern Baltic for the first part of the cruise, which gave way to a low while I was ashore, followed by another high, and this was now being succeeded by another low. I had been very lucky up to then not to be caught out by something nasty.

On Saturday 21 June we decided we could not face waiting any longer, and as the trend was towards easing winds, still from the north-west, we went to the yacht haven and prepared to sail with all reefs in. It took a few exciting very short tacks to get clear of the yacht haven at 1630 before we could bear away for a run down the fjord at hull speed for Jady Lane, and a bit more for Dinah with brief bursts of planing. I tried to slow down to keep in close company which seemed a good idea in conditions that were approaching marginal, but it was difficult on a dead run with no more reefs to take in. It did not take long to run the 6 miles to Svelmo and into its lee which made things a lot easier, and so in lessening wind into the adjoining Nakkebolle Fjord where we had looked out a suitable stopping place among the trees the previous day. In fact so sheltered was it that we had to row to get there (neither of us having motors), and a very good place it turned out to be where John and Andrew could set up their tent in the wood, the only problem being mosquitoes that I seem to be immune to, but not so John and Andrew who suffered when their tent defences were breached. The convivial evening was much enhanced by sharing Andrew’s cooking of supper that was a marked improvement over my usual puritan arrangements.

Cooking on the beach in Drejo

I woke next morning with the sun shining straight into the open aft end of the boat tent, which soon brought a welcome warmth. We did not leave until 1000 when we sailed across to the yacht haven on the other side of the fjord but being Sunday nothing was happening or available there, so we set off again in a moderate westerly breeze shaking out reefs as we went. I found that I could keep station with Dinah by leaving one reef in Jady Lane’s mainsail and leaving the centreplate down when running, but I was on my own in a bigger boat and they had two aboard as well as much gear and that slowed her. We went across to look at the east end of Avernako with its good sheltered beach before sailing on round the south side of Drejo with the wind falling lighter until it was not really enough for us, but it did give Dinah a chance to set her spinnaker, so I set Jady Lane’s mizzen staysail. We stopped by the ferry causeway on the south-east side and walked into the village where we were surprised to find the only shop open and it stocked everything including spirit for John’s stove. We then had a rather tedious sail and row round to the north side of the island and into a wide bay called Vigen where I had selected a spot on the beach sheltered from the remains of the westerly breeze. This was to be the last night we were to spend in company as I had to return to catch the ferry in two day’s time, while John and Andrew could continue their cruise until the end of the week.

Lop 1 Aidan 0

But there followed a series of wrong judgements — I said I thought the tide would not fall any more, but it did; I said it would not rise much, but it did and almost washed John’s gear off the beach, on to which he had emptied the boat to allow two to sleep aboard to escape the mosquitoes. Then I had ignored John’s excellent text forecast which clearly said the wind would go to the south-east so we found ourselves exposed to the new direction when it came during the night and kicked up an annoying lop on the water. Once again my low disturbance threshold caused me to give up at 0430 in the fast light of dawn, have breakfast and clear out at 0530, leaving Dinah with her crew still trying to sleep (in which I understand they succeeded), and so ended rather abruptly our brief but very congenial cruise in company. I felt a bit daft leaving for so little reason, but consoled myself with the thought that at least I was making use of a favourable wind that might not last to get back to Faaborg. The morning looked pretty grim with low cloud and patchy rain that so obscured the land that I ran most of the way on a compass course until I could be sure of where I was. After 2½ hours and 10 miles of quite boisterous sailing, and getting wet as it rained a good deal, I was glad to creep into the yacht haven at Faaborg and recover the boat. Once again I failed to find the harbourmaster so he never did get paid for my use of the slipway — and I really did try! I then went back to the campsite at what felt like midday, but was actually 0900. Later in the day the sun came out so I could dry my gear and stow up the boat for the journey home, and the wind went round to the west, which vindicated my early start.

In the evening another Mother of Thunderstorms came up over the sea looking like a stratospheric jellyfish with a huge canopy of high mottled grey cloud flickering with lightning, and a black centre with jagged stabs of lightning reaching to the sea surface blotting out everything as it passed among the islands, amid a continuous rumble of thunder and followed by torrential rain as it passed away eastwards. Afterwards I learned that it was this storm that gave John and Andrew a bad time just outside Svendborg. It was as spectacular ending of my cruise as I could have wished; a cruise that may have been light in incident and excitement but was very good indeed in enjoyment, and was well managed, helped by a lot of good luck.

Technical Points

Getting to Denmark — I had thought it might be best to go by the short sea route and motor across Holland and Germany to Denmark, but I was surprised to find how little extra was the cost of the car ferry from Harwich to Esbjerg. This route, run by D.F.D.S., leaves at 1800 arriving at 1200 next day, a shared cabin is included in the price, but not food. The return fare for car, trailed boat and one person, just before the high season came in, was £400 which for me was subject to a 20% discount, reducing it to £320; various discounts are available, so you should enquire. The distance from Esbjerg to Faaborg is just over 100 miles, mostly by motorway.

During the first part of the cruise I sailed 120 miles in 8 days, and in the second and third parts together 90 miles in another 8 days. Unlike a normal day or weekend cruise, the time spent actually sailing each day and the distances covered were quite modest and reflect that on a long cruise like this a different and much more leisurely attitude prevailed. Much greater distances could undoubtedly have been achieved with more determination.

As Peter Baxter discovered when he was in Sweden (Bulletin 173) wind speeds in the area are given in metres per second, so here for what it is worth is my very simple and rough conversion table from Beaufort Scale to knots to metres/sec.

Beaufort aide mem. kt m/s Comment 1 (x2) 2 1 better to row or motor 2 (x2) 4 2 start sailing 3 (x3) 9 4½ perfect sailing 4 (x4) 16 8 single-handers reef 5 (x4) 20 10 getting rough 6 (26) 26 13 time to go home 7 + don’t even start!

(Note that metres/sec is exactly half of knots.)

I am aware that it is very difficult to enthuse anyone else in a place that is completely unknown to them, but if you wish to know anything more about visiting this superb cruising area that is almost unknown to the English (I saw only two English yachts all the time I was there), I would be glad to talk to them and encourage them to give it a try.