Last Legs

Having returned to Torquay by train, it was prudent to ‘sit out’ the next day while another weather front passed through. I confess to regrets at maligning Torquay in my last blog because, substantial walks contradicted my previous assessment. Initial impressions were tainted by the semi derelict Pavilion building adjacent to the marina which is now under redevelopment; the disruption while a new pedestrian area is under construction and the depressing aftermath of the demise of Debenhams, whose neglected, empty store commands the epicentre of the town. Our morning walk to the east took us through smart areas of impressive villas, lovely cliff and woodland paths and stunning views.

Our afternoon walk in the west of the town did reveal empty shops and run down houses, but it all seems eminently affordable and probably on the ‘up’ as they tend to say in property circles. The town could boom again if global warming and expensive air travel results in more people holidaying at home.

One of the issues to be remembered with sailing yachts, particularly with an aft master cabin, is the noise made by even small ripples under the stern. I have often turned the yacht to moor bows to the wind but in marinas this is not always possible. In the big winds in Torquay and a fetch from the breakwater directly to our transom, it was likely to be a challenge sleeping. Mindful that we had suffered from some noisy nights in Scotland, I have made a gizmo to minimise the ‘slapping’.

Threading floating rope through sections of ‘noodles’ (tubular swimming aids), to make a floating ‘snake’, it is pulled loosely under the counter to float before the water surface meets the hull and eliminate the ripples before they hit what is effectively, a drum. I have to say that this was largely successful in reducing the noise and only the larger wavelets troubled the hull. We slept well!

Negotiating Portland Bill, over 40 miles from Torbay, is all about timing as the race must be taken on the flood and optimised for favourable tidal streams. It was not popular that this necessitated a 4am reveille, in the dark, and heavy rain – again, but it had to be done. The passage was not enjoyable, with a lumpy sea and the torrential rain driving into the cabin through the main hatch, not the sailing experience to convince anyone of the pleasures of yacht ownership.

Thankfully, our timing and positioning at the Bill was ‘dead on’ and the rounding was as smooth as it could be in the spring tide and fresh wind.  Our destination was Weymouth, it being a pretty and vibrant place to spend a ‘lay’ day while another weather system passed over us.

We were rewarded on our long walk along the coast path to Portland and back, by a spectacular display of wind and kite surfers, taking advantage of the very fresh winds in the smooth protected water of Portland Harbour.

Although there were big seas crashing onto Chesil Beach, the Cove Inn, was not experiencing the conditions from 2014, or we would not have been sat outside on the terrace!

Weymouth was heaving and had a lot going on with live music on the quay, a little too close to our mooring. We managed to take in an accomplished and entertaining  Amy Winehouse tribute band concert at the Pavilion Theatre which provided a welcome diversion. The immense crowds on the Bank Holiday Sunday resulted in queues outside the restaurants which was off-putting until we discovered we could order fish and chips on-line and have them delivered to the yacht!

We helped a similar sized yacht raft alongside us, this is quite normal in Weymouth Harbour. It turned out that they had three dogs on board, and they had liberally defecated on the deck, where we were handling the mooring warps. I am not a dog or cat lover having been allergic to them all my life, but I really can’t understand their presence on an offshore cruising yacht.

The sail to Yarmouth via the Needles Channel in fresh westerly winds resulted in an enjoyable romp and we secured an alongside, walk ashore, pontoon berth in the harbour, with sufficient time to take the 4 mile walk to Freshwater and back.

This is a lovely route following the old railway line alongside the river Yar heading south and through woods and farmland on the way back. It is handsomely rewarded at half distance by libation at the delightful Red Lion pub, next to Freshwater church.

Our intention had been to transit up to Newport in the centre of the Isle of Wight and ‘dry out’ when the tide receded, spending the day chillin’ and maybe using our free bus passes to casually get around the Island.

Unfortunately, our plans were aborted when Richard, woke up with an ear infection inducing vertigo and nausea. Richard has a malformed cochlea in his left ear which limits the frequencies he can hear (although it seems it’s mainly female voices that are the problem!),  so issues with his one functioning ear are more serious than in a binaural individual. I was also thinking that a dizzy crew on deck might be less than optimum or safe, and with the ladies insisting that he book the soonest doctor appointment, we decided to carry the tide straight back to our home berth in Northney Marina.

This turned out to be one of the best sails of the whole adventure with the tide under us, blue skies and a warm, fresh south/south westerly giving us a sprightly beam reach, we flew up the Solent, into Chichester Harbour and up the Emsworth Channel to Northney Marina and our home berth.

Our sailing adventure was over. We had travelled nearly 2000 miles since the second of April with various crew and several punctuations. We have negotiated some sailing landmarks, the Crinan and Caledonian Canals, Orkney, and the Hebrides. Despite awful weather, particularly in the North, it has been a rewarding and memorable, if taxing itinerary. There is now an extensive list of jobs to be done, some emanating from the recent refit, but Hejira should be in tip top shape for next year’s adventure, whatever that may turn out to be. I will be taking modest local trips for the rest of the year which will probably not merit a blog before ‘lifting’ in mid-winter.