For the third time this summer, we suffered (we were in no hurry, and we didn’t really suffer) a delayed train journey, and we arrived in Torquay in plenty of time for our crew rendezvous in the Offshore bar. There was another announcement on the train suggesting that we could claim compensation but, anyone who has tried to go through this process will know that they make it extremely difficult with multiple forms to fill in, documents to append, and regular crashes and reboots. This has been so tortuous in the past that I have simply given up – their intention, no doubt… Cue a younger, more tech savvy and patient brain! So it was that 16-year-old Sam, impecunious son of my next-door neighbour, ‘Toad’, was offered a 50% commission on whatever he secures by way of compensation, just give him the ticket and he would do the rest – result! We are now both chuffed, and financially better off!
Richard has covered the ‘trip’ comprehensively below, so I have little to add other than the following:
Teignmouth is a real treat. The tide rips through, but this can be used to your advantage with the ability to ‘ferry glide’, (even astern) alongside.
The berthing is limited but the Harbour Master is very helpful and accommodating. It is certainly well worth the effort with loads of pubs ashore serving a variety of good ales, and grub.
Given the long and tedious passage from Teignmouth to Poole Harbour there was plenty of time to prep a meal and I think, given a late arrival, the pressure cooker is ideal in this situation. It is a ‘one pot’ exercise, cook on low heat and it can stay hot, decompressing towards the end of a passage, ready to serve the moment the anchor is dropped – perfect… Clearly not an opinion shared by at least one member of the crew (ungrateful bugger).
Blood Alley, south of Brownsea Island in Poole Harbour is a tranquil and delightful anchorage – if you can raise your keel and creep into its shallow embrace.
I wondered why it is known as ‘Blood Alley’ and the internet came up with this colourful explanation:
Blood Alley (or Blood Alley Lake) in Poole Harbour gets its name from a violent historical clash between local smugglers (“free traders”) and government customs revenue officers.
According to local maritime lore, a fierce battle broke out in the narrow channel south of Brownsea Island, resulting in the water famously running red with blood. Alternatively, the name may simply reflect a bloody, hard-fought encounter during an interception of contraband goods. Another descriptive local theory notes that the channel’s banks feature reddish pottery shards mixed into the shoreline, though the revenue-versus-smuggler conflict remains the traditional explanation for the grim name.
Final note, I was chuffed when entering Ocean Village, we motored slowly past a very large and well found, world girdling yacht. The owner spoke to us over the rail in ‘clipped, naval tones’ saying “very good to see the burgee displayed correctly at the top of the mast”. I glowed until he followed up with “I trust you take it down every evening at dusk”. I looked away, embarrassed…
Richard writes:
“Pack your passport”, said Nick, thus filling me with the expectation of a delightful French port with fresh croissants in the morning, coq au vin and red wine. But, as often is the case, the weather and time limitations conspired against us, and we went to Teignmouth instead!
It was a horrible passage from Torquay, with rough seas and breaking rollers, corkscrewing Hejira in a very vomit inducing fashion. David succumbed and I was feeling very queasy; only Nick, with his iron constitution, smiled and farted, making us feel all the worse. Thankfully it was only 8 miles, and Teignmouth turned out to be a yachtsman’s delight. We moored alongside a pontoon just 20 yards, or so, from a beach, pubs and a restaurant. People were friendly and the beer was good, with the excellent Jail Ale on offer, how could it be better?
The next day was a very long 70-mile passage to Poole and an overnight anchorage in ‘Blood Alley’, a stretch of water just South of Brownsea Island. Here, Nick managed to concoct the most Godawful stew of bits of chicken, chorizo, lentils, dried peas, tinned potatoes, chillies, onion, garlic and who knows what else, brewed up in a pressure cooker, where it should have stayed. However, we were the only boat there and, apart from a violent thunderstorm that came crashing through, with torrential rain, in the early hours, it was very calm and peaceful.
Well, it would have been, except that it transpired that David also has a liking for Jazz and is a life member of Ronny Scott’s! I accused the skipper of being a selfish *******, keeping Spotify to himself so, with a wry smile, he handed his phone to David. To his absolute delight, more jazz ******* ensued! I went to bed feeling malnourished and miserable with my ears bleeding!
An early start the next day saw us doing 11 knots past Hurst Castle and into Yarmouth where we picked up a mooring buoy and, taking the water taxi, enjoyed a good walk to Freshwater and the Kings Head. With an early start to catch the tide the next morning, we easily slipped our mooring and had an uneventful motor up the Solent and finally moored in Ocean Village in Southampton before the big winds descended.
All in all, a very pleasant few days, in great company and, apart from the severe physiological damage inflicted on me by my colleagues, great fun.
David writes:
As Richard has covered, the passage to Teignmouth was an extremely uncomfortable affair and it parted me from my breakfast about halfway through the journey. Although Richard records this as an 8-mile passage, I can confirm that for some of us, it felt more like 80 miles and Teignmouth (apparently pronounced “Tinmuth”) couldn’t come soon enough.
Worthy of note was that our skipper, for some reason refrained, this time, from laughing at the discomfort of his crew (me) – is it possible that he has matured and softened over the last few years? You’re right – probably not.
I really enjoyed being at anchor in Blood Alley with the added excitement of inching along in 1.8 m of water with the Keel up and wondering if we would run aground. During the day Richard and Nick discussed at some length a special chicken-based meal, cooked in a pressure cooker (Nick is very proud of his pressure cooker) which Richard had experienced previously – it was not at all clear he wanted a repeat performance but Nick was pretty keen and so the evening meal (“chicken surprise”) was indeed something to remember. What I remember most is there wasn’t much chicken.
Overall, a very enjoyable few days to explore a bit of the south coast away from landlocked pressures.
I’ll tell you another reason that anchorage is known as ‘Blood Alley’. I will never forget anchoring there as a child with my parents in the mid 1950s. We went ashore on Brownsea Island (Private isn’t it?). Returning aboard in the dinghy before dusk a large black cloud mysteriously appeared above the Island. The sky went dark, then almost black. We had barely scrambled back aboard than we were attacked by zillions of mosquitos. By the time we got below and closed all the hatches we were bleeding all over from mosquito bites. Go to Brownsea Island? Never on you Nellie! It was sheer bloody hell!
What a story, John. So pleased to have your input! I hope you are well and, although you are no longer a 135 owner, you can vicariously enjoy some of our adventures – unique to the Southerly, and especially the 135!
Keep well!