Saturday 24th July (Lini’s Journal)
Brindabella's Web Diary
Simon Williams
Sun 25 Jul 2010 23:40
into wind to hoist the mainsail and there were lights from vessels all
around us. The chartplotter was a mass of AIS targets but many of the
boats were small fishing vessels without AIS and had lights changing
by the minute as they motored around. I slowly managed to identify
which boats were which on the chartplotter and which way the others
were heading: Only then could I relax a little and take in the
beautiful night. Up ahead the lighthouse on Portland Bill was flashing
in the distance and we were trucking along very nicely with the tide
slowly turning in our favour. One by one to keep me occupied a small
boat would come quite close, but their lights were always clear, their
course obvious in the moonlight and none so near to necessitate a
great change of course or cause for concern.
We rounded Portland Bill about 4am, I was wide awake, really
enjoying a great sail and it seemed silly to wake Si who was sleeping
soundly. I stayed on watch, now entertained by a stunning sunrise that
looked like a burning lava flow with a bright vertical strip of
rainbow in cloud in the other direction. Gradually the sea turned to
pale blue, reflected off the lightening sky and the stunning Jurassic
coast was just visible far off to port. I woke Si at 6am with tea and
we had a quick breakfast before I slipped into the warm bunk.
We were off the needles when I woke and soon in the choppy seas
through Hurst Point. I had forgotten what a washing machine these
parts can be in wind over strong tide conditions and the scene in
front of us was unbelievable. Apart from the Round the Island Race I
have never seen so many boats in the Solent and it was mayhem. Cannons
where constantly starting races from the Royal Yacht Squadron with
fleets of yachts beating one after the other out of Cowes. Small ‘X’
boats followed ‘the big boys’ with rows of keen crew in matching
shirts on the windward toe rails under go-faster sails. Tankers and
car carriers created obstacles. Motorboats blasted between the yachts
making a lot of wash and bad language from yachties. A huge rally of
Dutch cruising yachts passed in a constant stream heading west and
everywhere yachts were tacking this way and that. We did our best to
dodge the race fleets but picking our way through was not easy. Past
Cowes things quietened a little but there were still masses of boats
anchored off Osbourne Bay, I presumed for the annual Bournemouth
Symphony Orchestra concert. Oh my goodness! And we thought the British
Virgin Islands were busy! It was all a bit much, like a country lass
visiting the city. What had we come back to?
Down below, Brindabella was starting to look a little more like a
boat and less like a skip. I folded up the lee cloth of the sea berth
wondering when we would use it again and piled heaps of thermals and
fleeces into laundry bags. Meanwhile Dan was driving down from
Guildford to see us as he was going to be busy for the next week or
two. Estimating our arrival time was difficult in very variable winds
and a strong adverse current: We were now running late. As we turned
into Chichester Harbour in far from ideal winds, the shallows were not
identifiable by breaking waves but huge mud flats. It was nearing low
water but we had never known it to be this low before and it wasn’t
even spring tides; perhaps it was because we would not normally plan
to leave or return near low water. After a long passage however one
cannot say when you’ll arrive. We edged our way up the channel
watching the depth display with pained expressions.
And so it was, after eleven months away, crossing oceans and
turquoise bays in dead calms and foul winds, Brindabella turned
quietly into Northney Marina………………………. and ran aground in the
entrance! “Houston we have a problem”, I laughed into my mobile to
Dan. “Who stole the water?” radioed Si to the marina office who then
threatened to have us on YouTube within the hour! We waited a few
minutes, the depth rose an all essential 10cms then slowly we began to
move again.
Our temporary berth was just inside the marina and until I grabbed
the binoculars I couldn’t quite work out what it was on the end of the
pontoon. Oh my! What a welcome awaited us. All my family were there
with banners, balloons, flowers, a table laden with champagne and
nibbly treats, but most importantly open arms for my much awaited
hugs. I half forgot about tying Brindabella securely amongst welcome
home kisses from all and a special kiss for Simon. Corks popped,
strawberries dunked, nibbles nibbled and chocolates chomped as we
shared a few of our most colourful stories and I cuddled up to one
then another of my much loved family. How wonderful!
I felt somewhat shell shocked when later after sails were covered,
lines were coiled and the cockpit cleared we went below and sat
stunned and exhausted for a while before
bed……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
Have I just been dreaming or was that awesome adventure for real?