A Solent and St Vaast Summer Holiday
July 2004
Crew: Just David & Lynda
Saturday
A whole week away; we have a plan to go to two weekend club
events and if the weather’s ok a few days in France and some unashamed
gastronomic indulgence. The outlook is light winds for the whole week which is
promising but the day starts with rain. Just typical, we rushed to get to Ginns
before the lunchtime crowd in order to get a parking spot and find the car park
empty when we arrive. Perhaps it’s because Robert, the club steward was away at
a wedding. It’s strange in the clubhouse, an unusual absence of abuse, just the
politeness of Roy behind the bar.
Just as we get on board the weather changes for the better
making us feel much happier; the rain of early morning had cleared to leave a
bright sunny afternoon. After a light lunch we go ashore to collect Toadie, our
new tender; this has made a great difference to our stays at 
Beaulieu
so far and should mean we can continue to come down throughout the winter
season. A stout seaworthy little craft she hammers along well with the outboard
and is easy to row as well. There was just time to take her to Bucklers Hard
even though it was against the rapidly ebbing spring tide. As a result it took
three quarters of an hour but it’s an attractive stretch of river past Ginns,
past the string of Yachts on the trots. All very natural apart from the few big
houses like Ballards, complete with their own landing stage and large motor
cruisers. Amongst the modern plastic boats a couple of traditional craft stand
out, notably Tom Cunliff’s “Western Man” looking the part of a tough working
boat.
The walk through the forest and fields is always pleasant
on the way to Beaulieu village but today the river was a ribbon of colour in the
bright sunshine and calm despite the stiff breeze. Thanks to the Beaulieu estate
there is almost a complete absence of development and what houses there are meet
strict standards in terms of style and build. No fence panels from B&Q, only
natural oak in the traditional shape with a diamond on top.
For a Saturday the Beaulieu Arms was quite empty making it
an unusually quiet retreat from the hoards of visitors that were teaming through
the rest of the village. Time is tight and we are looking forward to the evening
so after a quick pint we head back along the direct path, back into the tender
and without the tide against us a quick chug back to Alize and a shower.
That evening was a “Rock and Roll” evening but we were
pleased to find that the Jazz band we had enjoyed earlier was there. After a
splendid but rather heavy meal courtesy of Paul the chef, we jived away the
evening in the still warm air, only too pleased to be moving about.
We were one of only a few that were staying on board so
well before everyone else left by car we were striding past the clubhouse in our
wet weather gear and life jackets feeling rather over dressed. It’s the right
choice though, the river is really dark at night and we had learned the hard way
not to take chances.
Sunday
A leisurely start, as Sundays should be, ignoring the
sensible plan to leave at 9am and catch the tide. On taking Toadie back to the
clubhouse I found out the hard way the even small tenders have to follow the
withies and the windy channel to the quay; clipping the bank caused the shear
pin to go resulting in some energetic rowing as early morning exercise.
After a quick read of the Sunday papers we set off in the
direction of Portsmouth. Being a lazy day, once clear of the river we just
unwound the Yankee and in the brisk westerly shot off to Cowes at a good five
knots. Naturally being a sunny summer day in the Solent the water was crowded,
almost like a round the Island race. Fortunately we were on starboard, not that
that mattered to some of the boats.
We couldn’t pass Osborne Bay without stopping for lunch, it
looked idyllic; and was for the most part. Anchoring in four metres of water was
a breeze with the windlass; we were reasonably sheltered but there was a bit of
a swell running that had the temerity to cause the wine to spill over. After a
particularly pleasant lunch our peace and quiet was terminated quite abruptly by
the arrival of a gaudy motor cruiser accompanied by a couple of surf scooters
riding alongside, but it was time to go anyway.
The brisk wind hadn’t abated so we had a good sail to
Gilkicker making over six knots, more than enough to plug the tide. Once round
the old fortifications we booked a berth at Gosport marina, switched to channel
11 to hear QHM and prepared to enter the busy harbour at Portsmouth. After going
over the bank we took our place in an orderly line of yachts and motor cruisers
making their way through the small ships channel whilst a steady stream of fast
cats and ferries plied in an out of the main channel.
We past the familiar naval installation at Haslar close by
as the main harbour opened, not too busy just a few frigates and a carrier.
Staying close in shore we passed Haslar Marina with its red lightship, then
turned in by the old Camper and Nicholson yard and entered the huge boat park
that is Gosport Marina. Thanks to some forethought on the part of the
harbourmaster when we reserved the berth we had an easy entrance and were set
for the evening.
With time to spare we took the old fashioned ferry across
to Portsmouth for a quick visit to Gunwharf Quay where we were pleased we hadn’t
put in for the night. Quite exposed to the brisk westerly, the bars were only
populated by hardy or reckless types and the berths less than comfortable. It’s
an enormous development with more shops than we ever though existed. We took
refuge in a “Traditional Pub” built out of the one old building reputed to have
been a Customs House. We had had enough.
Back to Gosport which, despite the influx of expensive
flats and boats is still rather basic. We only wanted a quiet night on board and
on a Sunday night that is what it offered.
Monday
As we couldn’t get into St Vaast before about 9pm there was
no point in leaving earlier than a civilised 6am. We woke to a bright sunny
morning with hardly any wind to disturb the surface of the sea. Within a few
minutes we had a cup of tea, got the boat sorted and were off. Naturally this
was a particularly busy moment so we waited for a while in Haslar creek whilst
the Normandy and several other large ships passed by too close for comfort to
the small ships channel.
Cautiously we threaded our way passed the shipping and the
forts to Bembridge where we had breakfast and turned south onto our calculated
course of 190 degrees once past the ledge cardinal. Initially progress was slow
with the tide against us and the wind filling in right on the nose. In the
bright sunlight motoring was pleasant enough though. Gradually the Isle of Wight
receded behind us as we approached the shipping lanes. From a distance there was
nothing about but once in them we encountered two ships both coming closer than
we would have liked; they did clear us though and by lunchtime we were in the
centre reservation having lunch and by mid afternoon we were clear of danger.
After a few false calls caused by an unusual strata cloud
we finally saw the French coast, the
end was in sight! It then became a bit boring as always with the coast ever so
gradually coming closer so to break the monotony we broke open the bar, had some
nibbles and a leisurely dinner to pass the time with nothing but an occasional
fishing boat for company. We couldn’t get into the lock until 8:45 BST at the
earliest so there was no point in rushing.; for a short while we pulled out the
sails and switched the engine off, just long enough to have a quiet dinner; much
nicer, shame we struggled to make 3 knots.
On clearing La Gavandest we were bang on schedule after a
few mid course corrections to take account of the tide, its not often that a
plan works! Less happily as the bay came into view we saw that it was full of
yachts at anchor just as a fishing boat “Mon Ami” came steaming out and rocked
them all about. For a while we thought they were just having a quiet (and cheap)
night but as we neared them it became clear that most had fenders out and the
rest were getting them ready. Someone asked the port when the gates would open –
9:55 FST, not far off so immediately everyone started to jostle for a position
to enter first.
This ended up being a real scrum, several French boats just
went on in ignoring the queue, a few Dutch boats held back. Rather keen to get
some rest after a long day we pushed on in and seeing all the visitiors berths
full up just took the first available residents berth whilst all about us were
milling about in a bad tempered manner; eventually they realised it was the only
option and followed our example.
Feeling rather tired we paid our dues, were prepared to
move in extremis, and crashed out for a sound sleep.
Tuesday
A wonderful morning and so different from the evening
before. Sitting out in the sunshine with fresh croissants for breakfast made it
all worthwhile. Everyone was friendly and sociable; it was like a different
port. Naturally as soon as the lock gates opened several yachts left and we were
able to move into a proper visitor’s berth where there would be no risk of an
enforced move. We even had power on and got Alize into residential mode with the
kettle out and everything convenient but totally unsuited to sailing.
Naturally
we needed supplies so it was off to M. Gosselen’s wonderful emporium that seems
to grow bigger every time we go there. His range of foods is truly amazing, many
of them packed to last any journey back and clearly designed with visitors in
mind. We were pleased to see the mock vintage van was still available for those
hard pressed Brits who needed a lift back to the marina with their wine and
beer. It may be “free” but his prices more than cover the cost.
Our original plan was to have a quick drink at the Café du
Port then return for lunch on board. It was so pleasant though that we just had
to stay to enjoy a seafood salad whilst watching the fishing boats and the rest
of the world go by. In the afternoon we took the little amphibious bus to the
pretty Isle de Tatiou. Ideal for a lazy afternoon, a wander around the
foreshore, a quick climb up the tower, a look round the old fortifications and
back in time for tea. On the way out the bus had left the Capitainarie and gone
straight into the water to cross to the island by the most direct route
floating almost all the way. On our return the tide was well out so it took the
causeway over the rocks and around the oyster beds to give us all a more
interesting view. Sac upon sac of oysters lay on their supports with gangs of
workers bashing them about and tractors charging to and fro making the most of
the few hours of low tide; a real hive of activity.
Dinner was at the Fushia, we just had to try it as so many
people had raved about how good it was. In the event it was very traditional
French, quite posh and clearly popular with the well heeled members of the
yachting fraternity. The meal was fine but with the large conservatory area
almost full of tourists from England and Holland it was not exactly the French
eating experience we would have liked
Wednesday
Another bright sunny day, what went wrong? The forecast is
for settled weather through to the weekend so we stay put for another lay day. A
walk is called for and after a bit of research we settle on a not particularly
challenging visit to the sister fort of Tatiou at La Holouge. By this time it’s
clouded over and threatening to rain so we pack the rucksack and plan for the
worst.
In
the event it stayed dry and after the great circular walk around the marina due
to the lock gates being open we set off. It may only be 0.5 km but it’s
delightful to be by the sea. The fort is not open as its still a military
signals station but the path around the perimeter is wonderful and amply repays
the visit. Its high tide so its tricky negotiating the narrow paths along the
sea wall which forms the first part. There is a beach in places absolutely full
of shells, seemingly metres deep and extending to the sea, unusual to put it
mildly. The southern side of the island is totally different; it is a path under
the trees with fortified walls towering above on the right hand side, the sea on
the other
All too soon it comes to an end, the spell is broken and we
are back where we started from, at the tennis courts and little refreshments
hut. Returning in time for lunch we forget to go back to Alize and sit down at
the Debarquement. The service hasn’t improved, still terrible but it is good
value and there is plenty of choice. The crab was just was required and he salad
giesier excellent too, just a bit too filling for a light lunch.
We spend the afternoon wandering about, sketching, and
absorbing the atmosphere of the port. A real seaside holiday destination but
with enough of the fishing industry and supporting traditional boat yards to
give it currency and authenticity. The yard was well equipped and stocked with
plenty of wood to make repairs to both traditional and modern steel craft; it
was a pleasure to see craftsmen at work.
Dinner at La Chaisse Marie was much more fun and
interesting than the night before; the owner, Guy is mildly eccentric, the décor
is informal with a maritime feel and the people all younger, more lively. There
are arguments about smoking lots of bustling about and passion for eating well.
The meal was excellent even if we made the great faux pas of not checking that
the stuffed seafood didn’t include oysters! The caused us to start talking to an
interesting couple who are staying in a house nearby owned by a friend. It makes
a pleasant interlude and we end up going back for coffee and a quick brandy
before heading back to Alize where it’s surprisingly noisy. The people from Le
Havre on the yacht next door are putting the world to rights accompanied by lots
of wine…
Thursday
A rather utilitarian morning - sorting out the boat,
filling the tanks and making sure we have enough supplies to get back home. We
plan to return via Cherbourg and the tide turns at 15:00 but we leave at 12:30
as we would like to get there in time for a good dinner out. After a sunny start
it clouds over, the visibility drops and out to sea there is little wind. No
option but to motor, it gets a bit boring by the time we reach Barfleur, the
coastline had almost disappeared and to make it more gloomy the temperature
drops. Spirits are raised by lunch – some of the best St Vaast has that we could
take with us; stuffed tomatoes, tart a l’onion, cheve with poivre, definitely
delicious.
The
GPS proves to be more accurate than the rather casual plotting made on this trip
when trying to find the three cardinal marks that keep us safely off the rocks.
Despite the tide being adverse at first we stayed off shore to keep well out of
trouble whist a French yacht goes inshore to cheat the tide. Strangely it
doesn’t make that much difference, the tide is turning; soon we are hurtling
towards Cherbourg at over 7 knots.
The huge breakwaters and the ruin of Fort de l’Est come
into view in the distance and we are right on track for the entrance after a
minor course change to take into account the tide. We don’t want to get swept
passed the entrance so we head just east of the fort. Naturally as we are about
to enter a big ferry is right behind us but there is plenty of room to keep out
of the way within the outer rade and before the inner rade and the port de
pleassance. We had assumed this would be packed but when we arrive there was
plenty of room and we were able to moor up before 6pm in time to find a suitable
restaurant to have our last meal in France. We had always wanted to try Le
Vauban and the way the cheery chef took the booking was really promising. We
were not disappointed; the interior is stylish and smart but not pretentious,
just classic modern French in good taste. The meal was excellent, we had four
courses which was really good value and included a few interesting extra’s as an
amuse bouche such as a mousse of fois gras. We started with a medley of fois
gras and maigret de canard; the, main was monkfish and sea bass, both delicious.
The plat de fromage had some really interesting cheeses such as a cheve with
paprika; the desert was “soupe de fruits” a mixture of fresh fruits of the
forest. A memorable end to our short stay in France eeked out by a calvados on
deck before retiring later that we really wanted to given we had a long journey
the next day.
Friday
The plan was to leave at 6am but the night before had taken
its toll to we left a little later arguing that after that meal we wouldn’t have
to eat out in England. After lots of clatter and not particularly focused
activity ended up leaving at 7am, not too disastrous. Fortunately the initial
mistiness had blown away by then and although cloudy we had excellent
visibility. There was a bit of wind but in strict accordance with sods law of
the sea it was right on the nose.
Another boring slog across the channel was in prospect as
we made our way out under power; there was just a hope that the weather would
change and so it turned out that way.
The shipping lanes arrived just as the French coast started
to recede into the horizon, this provided a bit of interest as it was quite busy
but not so much that we got too pressed. Another lunch from St Vaast provided a
pleasant interlude whilst we crossed the centre reservation and just as we
cleared the east bound lane the wind backed and increased to a steady 10kn
westerly enabling us to have a splendid sail.
With full sails up on a close reach we had some exciting,
fast sailing. In brilliant sunshine we were speeding along with the occasional
wave breaking over the bow to add to the enjoyment. The hump of St Catherine’s
came into view first as the “S – bend” of our course took us initially west then
well east of the rum line and at over 15 miles away we were due south of the
light
Gradually we got nearer the island and took a course nearly
parallel with the coast as we made our way to the Needles. Off Freshwater Bay we
had a superb view of the island in all its glory – from the cliffs of Tennyson
Down to the rolling hills of St Catherine’s. Rounding 
the
light was slow as the tide was ripping out against us slowing our progress down
from over 6kn to as low as 3kn at times, good job it was neaps. Rounding the
light close in to cheat the tide was tricky as the normal way of measuring the
distance off using the coastguard station as in the round the island race didn’t
work very well as we were going the opposite way round.
Keeping close inshore in first Alum then Totton bay we
avoided the worst of the tide and overtook several yachts struggling in the
centre of the channel. It was like seeing old friends again when we got up to
Hurst and entered the familiar, sheltered waters of the Solent. In no time we
were negotiating the ferries in the Lymington River and dodging the many
dinghies out for a sail on a bright and breezy Friday evening. The fast sail had
made up for lost time and we were able to tie up at our reserve berth at
Lymington Marina soon after 7pm. We celebrated and put the time to good use by
going up the hill to the Kings Arms for a few pints of English beer and some
solid sailing fare. Unexpectedly we had some lively conversation with two women
who were celebrating a birthday.
Saturday
Saturday is market day at Lymington so it was even more
packed than usual and a struggle to get to Waitrose at the top of the high
street to get our picnic. There’s a greater variety of stalls here than almost
anywhere in the country; naturally lots of food stalls with fresh fruit and veg,
pork from the Forest, even fresh bread and of course cheap clothes stalls. What
makes it special are the stalls selling antiques, old tools, even camera’s – “I
put in an appearance here but make the real money on the Internet” All in all a
lively time but quite pleasant to be back on board by lunchtime.
We set off straight away and once out of the River only had
to open up the Yankee to make over 7Kn towards Cowes with a fair breeze and a
favourable tide. Lunch was a joy with the autohelm on and Alize making her way
steadily towards the crowded central Solent. Whilst there were yachts about we
were on starboard and fortunately they kept well clear, especially whilst we had
lunch.
All too soon we were off Egypt Point where it suddenly got
rather busy as well as breezy so we rolled up the sail and motored in at about
3pm accompanied by dozens of other boats all intent on finding one of the few
vacant berths; so much for Cowes in summer. Off the Island marina it was chaos,
about ten boats were all waiting to enter as it changed to free flow and the
berthing master just couldn’t cope. First we and another RSYC motor boat were
given some totally inappropriate spaces, then another boat blocked the harbour
entrance and to cap it all another went aground – all fun and games! We gilled
around for a 
bit,
realised it was all rather ridiculous and then moved into the first available
space. At the harbour office where we tried to sort things out it was even more
chaotic than afloat, hoards of people, boats coming in ignoring the red light,
impatience and general disorganisation. Eventually we got it all sorted out and
got ready for the evening concert.
Osborne House was the venue with the Bournemouth Symphony
Orchestra playing a program of favourites with a Prom like finale. After the
short bus ride we were soon sitting down to our picnic accompanied by many
others all intent on enjoying the balmy evening. It was glorious with a clear
blue sky and the setting sun illuminating the house with its warm glow.
Naturally the splendid view over the Solent set the tone, a touch of the sea
amongst all the trees. It was all very British, for two hours everyone was
tucking into hampers of food with sparkling wine corks popping all the time.
Some sat on blankets and kept it simple, others like the party from the yacht
next to us had a four course meal on a table complete with coffee, brandy (lots)
and petite fours. We enjoyed our waitrose meal with plenty of M. Gosselens fine
wine on some very comfortable chairs from Argos that seemed really popular.
The music eventually started with an introduction from an
announcer in true music hall style, after the first few pieces (charge of the
light brigade!) he announced the visitors from all over the place, considering
Hampshire, naturally, to be abroad.
It was a fun evening rather than a serious concert and many
entered into the spirit of it all
by buying silly head gear and flags to wave, all in the cause of charity. By the
time we got to Pomp and Circumstance the fireworks were going off, all timed to
go with the music. Jerusalem to fireworks was quite an experience and they kept
it going longer that we all thought would be the case by having a couple of
carefully prearranged encore’s including the flight of the bumble bee to
fireworks that was not on the program. A real spectacle, even if not the most
cultural concert, lots of frantic flag waving, singing and waving of arms with
nearly everyone who could stand on their feet at the end.
Getting back was another matter, one of our number got lost
whilst going to the toilet so we were the last bus out amidst many wisecracks
about what should be done to the miscreant.
Sunday
It may have been the last day but our luck with the weather
held; it was bright, sunny and breezy, perfect if we were to go sailing. After a
leisurely breakfast of coffee and croissants we spent a couple of hours tiding
the boat up then repaired to the Folly to recover. Surprisingly it was not that
crowded and an excellent place to spend an hour or two on a sunny Sunday
morning. It was low tide which may have kept some of the yachts away but motor
boats were there in abundance. Good job everyone hasn’t the same taste but they
did see to be enjoying themselves
Getting out of the marina was even more challenging than
getting in so we were a bit late back to the Beaulieu River but still in time
for David to be able to take us ashore and on our way home.
All in all a splendid week and a fortunate one weather
wise.
