Thursday 1600hrs 19th April to Monday 0900hrs 23rd April (four nights)

Saturday 14th to Saturday 21st May 2011

Motor cruiser charter  from Carrick-onShannon to Portumna on the river Shannon

160kms, 5 locks, 2 lift bridges approx 20hrs cruising.

Approx cost £350 (£150 now and £200 in March) to include charter and transfers.

Cheap flight from Stanstead to Dublin by Ryanair not included.

One boat is already full. Booking on first come first serve basis.

Due to a small number of charter boats early interest is essential to avoid disappointment

Contact Victor Newton  secretary@hssc.org.uk

Michael Doctors first started sailing dinghies in his late teens and bought his first yacht, the Leisure 23 ‘Avocet’ in his mid thirties. Since then he and Annie owned 2 further yachts which Michael skippered and sailed to numerous ports and destinations in the UK and France. It was largely his (and Annie’s) enthusiastic embracing of the idea of a sailing club of Jewish affinity that led to the existence of the High Seas Sailing Club.Many life long friendships, several marriages and births, numerous memorable experiences of sailing with great skippers and crews, bold sailing trips and adventures, yearly HSSC social and sailing events and much more, can be directly attributed to Michael as one of the true founders of the club. Michael has always been very modest and quiet about his broad sailing experience. Sailing was his great joy and remained so until his recent untimely death.

It was during a chance meeting with Michael (and Annie) in 1989 that the possibility of forming a sailing club with Jewish affinity first arose. Within a few weeks, meetings with interested parties had been organised, a constitution had been approved and the HSSC was formed. Michael was a major player in achieving the formation of the club. He was influential in finalising the club’s constitution, which has remained virtually unchanged since the club’s inception and still represents its philosophy and rules. Michael was the club’s first Vice Commodore and after that was Commodore for three years during some of its most formative times. From the start he was one of the club’s key drivers. During its early years, he played a vital role in supervising, formulating and implementing many important HSSC club management decisions and was instrumental in the introduction of a number of yearly club events that have endured to today. His quiet, enthusiastic and amiable manner and his attention to detail were key factors in the successful expansion of the club from a few people in 1990 to a membership of over 150 by the mid ‘90s.

During the early years of the HSSC Michael’s Leisure 23 ‘Avocet’ and his subsequent Leisure 27 ‘Audella’ were based in the Solent area and Michael and Annie, were familiar supporters of most HSSC South Coast events. Michael, with Annie, forged friendships with many members who become regular sailing companions on numerous sailing trips. Victor Newton, Alan and Vivienne Bellau, Diana Abramova, Tony Corby, Nick and Hilary Saul, Martin and Hilary Cohen, Jo Davis, Paul Leader, Frank Yantin and Bob Emanuel are amongst those who sailed on Audella and/or later on Birdie 111. In 1995, after a season in which Michael sailed Audella to Weymouth, Brixham and the West Country, visiting Lulworth Cove and other notable bays, anchorages and ports, he decided it was time to upgrade. For a number of years he had had his eye on the Laurent Giles designed 33ft Westerly Discus, which has a robust reputation for long distance sailing and capable of standing up to most conditions. Through a chance meeting Michael saw and eventually bought Birdie 111 in Plymouth.
As she was already based in the West Country, Michael felt this was a good opportunity to explore a great new cruising ground. For a number of years, therefore, Birdie 111 was based first in Plymouth and then Mylor (Falmouth). From these ports Michael and Annie explored most anchorages and harbours from Brixham to the Scilly Isles. Many HSSC members enjoyed their hospitality (with Dougal!) aboard Birdie 111 and some accompanied them on cross Channel trips to ports between Dieppe and the Channel Islands.

While based in the West Country, Michael was diagnosed with a rare blood disorder. He took this in his stride and did not allow the potentially serious long term prognosis to interrupt or affect his life. He continued to plan for his dream of taking Birdie 111 gradually south to the Mediterranean and in 2002, the possibility of doing this became a reality after he retired from his work as a financial consultant.

Over a number of seasons between 2002 and 2007, Michael skippered Birdie 111, with HSSC members and friends as crew, to numerous ports in Normandy, Brittany, and Cote Atlantique including Pampol, Treguier, Morlaix, Brest, Camaret, Ile de Sein, Audierne, La Trinite-sur-Mer, Concarneau, Ils de Glenan. Lorient, Ile de Groix, Belle-Ile, La Rochelle, Ile de Re’, Ile d’Oleron, Royan and Arcachon. It was during his last trip aboard Birdie 111 in 2007 that his health suddenly deteriorated and he had to give up sailing.

Michael will be remembered as a close and loyal friend. His broad grin and friendly manner have been welcome and familiar sights amongst his sailing friends for many years. He will be sadly missed by many of us whose lives were enriched and took on new meaning through knowing him and from the relationships that resulted through that friendship.

David Weisfeld
Many would have liked to have added a few words but here is a short note from just a few sailing friends:

On numerous Sunday mornings I would arrange to meet Michael and go for a healthy cycle ride in the country, north of London. Michael didn’t need to lose weight but he was a great companion; our conversation never stagnated, always up to date with the news, current affairs and financial information he had a lively and enquiring mind, ready to listen and learn. Always easy to get on with Michael and I seemed to have the same way of thinking. It was the same on sailing holidays when I helped him sail Birdie 111 from Plymouth to Arcachon over a four year period. We sat in cafés having our petit dejeuner watching the world go by before we departed on the next leg. In all that time, we never had a disagreement nor cross word. He loved his food…. a plate of chips would accompany every dish. On our last trip, Michael began to slow down a little but he was right behind Tony (Corby) and me when climbing the largest sand dune in Europe near Arcachon. I will miss Michael and hope that where he has gone there will be plenty of sailing and navigation… celestial navigation.

Victor Newton
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Michael Doctors was one in a million. When I joined the High Seas Sailing Club some 12 or so years ago, Michael was Commodore. At a time when I was getting over some personal difficulties he went out of his way to make me feel so welcome that I started thinking again about sailing and making new friends. I really appreciated that way he had of encouraging people.

Years later when we were keeping our boat in Cherbourg, we found Michael painting Birdie III on the hard. We cajoled him into dropping his paint brush, grabbing his sleeping bag and shipping aboard Samadhi. We promptly sailed off to St. Vaast La Hogue then Carentan. One image of that trip I shall never forget is of eating alfresco in the cockpit. The sky was blue and the sun roasting hot. We were so grateful for the sunshine, the beautiful Normandy sea, our abundant lives as sailors and each other’s company. Life seemed ideal in that moment and we would not have changed a thing. The therapeutic qualities of the sea, the boat, the sailing and the French food were having their magic effect on us………………..of course all things must pass…including good weather!
I am really sad at Michael’s passing. When they made him, they broke the mould, more’s the pity.

Dave Robson
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We sailed with Michael a few times but our greatest adventure with him was the Scilly Isles. It was just like Michael to focus his mind on a goal and then to pursue it relentlessly until achieved. The first attempt found us frustratingly storm bound in Penzance Harbour for 5 days waiting for the weather to abate, which it refused to do in time. Michael was determined to get there at the second attempt in the following year and as a result we had one of our best sailing experiences, anchoring in many of the beautiful bays and exploring the islands. The rough passage back provided an exhilarating end to the cruise. It was a great pleasure sailing aboard Birdie 111 with Michael and we very much treasure the time we spent with him (and Annie) aboard Birdie 111. He will be sadly missed.

Alan and Vivienne Bellau
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I am honoured to be asked to write a few words in memory of Michael: but I really wish that I was writing these few words to his living presence and not to his memory. I knew him for only a short time and regret that I did not enjoy his great company more often. I met Annie and Michael via that great meeting forum, the High Seas Sailing Club; I later discovered that Michael had been a founding member and sometime in its infancy had been Commodore. Not long after meeting him a few years ago, I crewed for Michael in the region of L’Orient and very agreeable companionship it was. Unfortunately my second trip with him was cancelled because of a sudden acute exacerbation of Michael’s chronic ill health, which normally he did not let interfere with his activities. I saw him a number of times while he was ill. We all have regrets; mine is that I was not around during Michael’s last days.

Bob Emanuel

For the best part of 40 years Michael has been a part of my life, and latterly, Nick’s. He introduced me to boating first on a hot, sunny, windless day when we happily chugged around the Solent and then to sailing on a blustery, turbulent day when I crouched miserably in the forepeak thinking that I would never ever want to get involved in this sport!!! When I close me eyes I can see Michael standing at the helm of his boat holding onto the tiller and back stay, face raised to the wind and spray with a great big grin as he battled the elements. Michael had a sharp enquiring mind, a wicked sense of humour and a fierce love of life. Here was a man who crammed two lifetimes into his allotted time. A true friend and gentleman who we will always remember with a smile and deep affection. He will be greatly missed.

Nick and Hilary Saul

Please feel free to add your memories and enrich this piece.

The exercise was a testament to positive thinking and sheer persistence because finish it we did, though it turned out to be only 997 pieces, for three were missing. And thus the High Seas crew won the dubious honour of being the first and only crew to sail aboard Alida to finish the puzzle. During our six days on the boat every person aboard, including skipper, mate and cook, but with the exception of Elvis, the ship’s dog, worked on the puzzle – making it a truly cross-cultural, multi-ethnic, poly-lingual, multi-national and multi-religious team-building exercise.

But did this affect the sailing? You bet it did!

Like solving the puzzle, we soon discovered that barge sailing is every bit a team effort. Fortunately for our group, unruly, anarchistic and mutinous as we tend to be given half a chance, we had strong leadership from our skipper Remco (nicknamed Velcro), and the winches were stern taskmasters, so in no time we were bending to our tasks and functioning in unison, like a well oiled machine – with a few notable exceptions of course, like when someone had a hangover, which happened occasionally.

The other challenge was the food which, even for those of us who had sampled  Jacquie’s first class catering at the skippers and crews meeting in March, was copious in the extreme. It wasn’t the quality, which was excellent, it was the quantity, which was massive. Nevertheless we did not let the side down, indeed we did ourselves proud. Someone must have told our expert Dutch cook that a Jewish sailing club sails on its stomach. Anyway, this one certainly did. Fortunately we were uninhibited in tackling the food because there was no set of scales aboard to make us feel guilty.

A curious vessel
Alida, compared to the conventional yachts we are used to, was indeed a curious vessel, but one which, I came to realise, was very cleverly thought out for short handed sailing and carrying huge volumes of cargo, and ideally suited to the shallows of the Ijsselmeer – mostly three metres deep wherever we went.

For a start she drew only 85 centimetres, amazing for a boat that we estimated must weigh in the region of 60 to 70 tons. The bottom of the hull was as flat as a pancake and the hull shape was clearly designed to maximise space at both extremities. Our quarters, plus the capacious saloon and galley (and I mean capacious) were beautifully and thoughtfully fitted out below decks in the space where the cargo would have been, and no doubt the additional air space facilitated by the lack of cargo must have given the hull a lot of extra buoyancy. I once lived in a house with a smaller kitchen – Alida’s cooking range, with six burners on top and a large oven, was almost as large as Nick and Hilary’s Aga. And unlike many boats I have sailed on, everything was ergonomically thought out and user friendly.

The rig
The rig comprised a gaff rigged mainsail with a stays’l set forward of it on a substantial wooden mast supported by running backstays, a jib set on the end of the bowsprit and a gaff rigged mizzen sail set, as one would expect, on the mizzen mast (aft of the main mast). She was therefore technically a cutter rigged gaff ketch. On the bowsprit was also a smaller jib, but this was never flown at the same time as the working jib – it was kept ready only as a storm sail for very strong winds.

This sail plan proved very versatile, with different combinations being used in different wind strengths and wind directions to keep the boat beautifully balanced whatever the conditions and mostly flying along at around 8 to 10 knots. The hull had no keel and leeway was very effectively kept in check by the use of leeboards, the leeward one being lowered when beating or beam reaching. This meant every time we tacked or gybed, not only did miles of mainsheet have to be hauled in and then let out again, but also the runners and leeboards had to be set up for the new tack.

Even when beating hard to windward, healing was remarkably little, to the extent that the jigsaw never once fell off the saloon table. I was amazed at how close to the wind she could sail without pinching or losing speed – at least as close as 45 degrees.

Not only the sail plan, but also the fore and aft position of the leeward leeboard, was critical to the behaviour of the helm, which was a massive, hydraulically driven tiller which had an enormous rudder on the end of it, controlled by a wheel. When the boat was even slightly out of balance in her sail plan, steering became very, very hard work. Luckily our skipper was highly attuned to getting her set up just right.

The instruments and electronics were virtually nil, apart from a small stereo in the saloon, a VHF and a powerful generator for domestic electricity, heating and battery charging, though on two occasions the skipper did use a hand-held GPS and a chart. There was an electronic compass and a few other instruments, but they were never switched on. At first I found this very odd, but soon I got used to watching the leeboard to see if it was hitting the bottom. If it was pushed up too high for comfort, we would hastily steer back towards the channel and it would drop to its down position again.

As for wind direction, that was indicated by a kind of flag at the masthead, and wind speed – well any experienced sailor can judge that by feel and sound. There was a log of sorts down on the chart table but I never saw it and no-one used it. On the occasions when the GPS was used we were able to see our speed over the ground which, since there is no tide in the Ijsslemeer, was virtually the same as our speed through the water.

Hoisting the sails was probably the hardest work we had to do. This was accomplished with the aid of two big iron winches bolted to the deck either side of the mast, each with thick strong wire halyards permanently attached. There were two halyards for the mainsail, one for the throat of the gaff and one for the peak. Much use was made of traditional boating techniques to minimise the use of the engine, so every time we went through a bridge or lock the sails had to be lowered onto the deck, and then raised again on the other side.

The mizzen also had two halyards but no winch. Instead the ropes had to be sweated through a block and tackle system by at least two people. At times, instead of dropping the sails completely, we depowered the main and mizzen by scandalising them (lifting the boom or dropping the gaff to destroy the aerofoil shape).

Much use was made of springing on and off quays using warps, though on one occasion Remco actually berthed us up, and another time we left our berth, entirely under sail without even starting the engine. In the relatively confined harbours of the Ijsselmeer and surrounding area, Remco’s boat handling, and the teamwork between skipper and mate Franse, was awesome to say the least, and a joy to behold.

Sailing area
Our skipper did his absolute best, and with considerable success, to work out an itinerary which ensured our choices of areas to sail and places to visit were interesting and varied, sailing at times on all points from close hauled to dead run with very little use of the engine. Two words spring up to describe most of the places we visited: “quaint” and “charming”.

Hoorn, for example, was a fascinating little town with many interesting historic buildings, some of which were visible from the sea, and it really did feel as if we had arrived in the 19th. Century as we approached, aiming at the beautifully built wooden jetty with its cluster of barges bustling round it and a restored old round tower, now a café and restaurant, sticking up.

Many of the seascapes we encountered reminded me of the old Dutch masters one sees in the National gallery and maritime museums the world over, for ours was by no means the only barge in the area. Altogether a thriving fleet of some 350 barges ply these waters, and it was not uncommon to see several splendid gaff rigs silhouetted against a vast extent of sea, with puffy cumulous scudding vigorously across an expansive sky above. Indeed the Ijsselmeer proved to be a paradise for traditional boat lovers, for old boats seem to far outnumber modern yachts and powerboats.

Three seas
The Ijsselmeer is an inland fresh water sea bounded by dykes to the North and South, and by low lying land to the West and East. The dyke at the Southern end has a lock which facilitates passage into the Markermeer, another inland Freshwater sea, while the dyke to the North  gives access via a lock to the Waddenzee, where tidal salt water begins. In fact, the Waddenzee is little more than a series of narrow, shallow channels winding between sandbanks that dry totally at low water, at the northern end of which lie the Frisian Islands. Remco explained in his typically understated modest Dutch manner that particular care is needed when navigating here because the sandbanks are continually shifting. Suffice to say, we never spent one second aground.

We started from Lemmer, about half way up the East side of the Ijsselmeer, sailing right across to the Western side where passed the lock at Enkhuizen into the Markermeer to stop for the night in Hoorn. Next day we passed North through the same lock again and sailed right up to the North East Corner of the Ijselmeer where we vitited the charming little town of Makkum. The following morning we were up bright and early to pass North through the huge lock that leads to the Waddenzee, an area made famous in Erskine Childers’ classic novel, The Riddle Of The Sands, whereupon we visited the beautiful little island of Terschelling, where I ate one of the finest herrings I have ever tasted.

Next day we returned South to the more sizeable town of Harlingen and the day after we passed Southerly through the lock back into the Ijsselmeer where we had a fast and exhilarating passage almost half way down the Eastern side of the waterway to berth up in the much smaller town of Stavoren (where there is also some wonderful herring to be had).

In each place we stopped we had just enough time for a wander round the town before dinner, and on most days an early morning constitutional in the glorious spring sunshine before breakfast and setting sail again. I had emphasised beforehand to the charter people, the Frisian Sailing Company, that we wanted to do as much sailing and as little motoring as possible, and that is exactly what we did, clocking up some 160 miles in six days. And I doubt if the sum of our motoring exceeded two hours in all that time.

Our last day was truly amazing. We spent it sailing, yes sailing, along a network of beautiful, narrow, winding canals right through the heart of the Friesland countryside, back to our base in Lemmer. One of the sights that caused us endless amusement was sailing along the side of a field of cattle to behold, on the other side of the same field, a mast with a gaff rigged sail plan progressing along what looked like a road, disembodied from any hint of a hull, which in reality was just below the height of the field on a parallel canal, and therefore invisible from our viewpoint.

A truly terrific holiday
They say a change is as good as a rest, and a change it certainly was. In many ways the whole experience felt unreal, and a million miles away from the kind of sailing we usually do in our club. In some ways it was like a visit to Legoland while other parts were reminiscent of the Norfolk Broads, not so very far away on the opposite side of the North Sea. But it was the people we met who did it for me. Every person we met, even the roughest old dog of a fishing skipper, was just so nice. And for the record, our contacts at Frisian Sailing Company, Nynke Koostra and Jaap Maks, were also extremely helpful and the organisation at their end was first class.

That is until we returned to Schiphol Airport where we had an unpleasant culture shock experience as we tried to readjust to the urban reality of being in an international travel gateway. All we wanted was a meal. But that’s another story…

Dave Robson

All the talking was over and at last the weekend arrived and a bunch of brave souls from the HSSC headed south to go kite flying.

We arrived in Southampton Friday evening amid brilliant sunshine with all eagerly anticipating a weekend sufficiently windy in which we could learn how to fly the beautiful coloured balloons we know as spinnakers.

Well there is windy… and then there is very windy !!!!!!!!!!!!

We settled in to the spartan but just about adequate accommodation aboard the two boats, and rapidly got to grips with what rigging a spinnaker was all about. No mucking about here; straight in for the kill.

Dave had it all caught on camera lest any salient point of the process should be forgotten for the future. A photographic aide memoir!

A swift but thorough safety briefing followed, whereupon at around 18.30 we donned our sailing gear, as temperatures dropped and winds increased and sailed forth into the Solent and headed for Hamble town quay!

We could see Jac, Phil, and Victor on their boat in the distance, and we could see also that flying a spinnaker was not going to be easy, however, our valiant and intrepid skipper, Richard, (AKA “Hey-You Richard”, to distinguish from Richard Marks, “Our Richard”) gave us the confidence to press on and rig the kite!

Oh boy did we know all about it as skipper Hey-You Richard gave the orders to hoist the spinnaker. Our Richard on helm was determined to hold the boat on course as the unusual Rock’nRoll motion took over, yet as if by magic and taking on board instructions shouted from the mast, very soon the boat resumed a degree of control and took off like a bat out of hell. OMG the change in speed was awesome.

We quickly learnt how to keep the sail set to the optimum shape; just on the point of collapse, and were able to sail successfully with spinnaker aloft for quite some distance. We were even able to attempt an end-to-end jybe!!! (such technical speak!) which was completely successful if a little ragged round the edges… but they got much, much better as the weekend progressed!

We reached the mooring at Hamble quite late; after 21.00, and rushed to make it to the last remaining eatery that was still serving food. (we politely, but firmly rejected the kind offer of having pasty, mash and beans on board!). Gilad formed a one man welcoming committee and made sure all our gastronomic needs were catered for.

The following day held all manner of drama in store, the winds whistled up to a force 6, as we sailed up Southampton water to find shelter in order to hoist the kite before sailing back.

What an experience!! As the kite flew up, the boat became akin to a bucking bronco, and we all held on for dear life… Dave on the helm, and more so Our Richard at the mast, (or should I say almost hugging the coach roof) wished they had applied some kind of bonding resin to hold them firm, and Sands was just too far removed from the reality to even feel fear.. Well you have got to have experienced it before to feel afraid a second time. (I had no experience so couldn’t feel the fear…) Foolish girl!

In a split second and why we have no idea, the boat suddenly broached big time, at which point, most of the crew found G-d and religion if even for a split second. It was an awesome experience; as quickly as she went down, up she came, and order was restored. Somehow, we all retained confidence in our skipper who talked us though every second, that seemed like a year, while the broach was actually happening and afterwards explained exactly why.

We continued to play with the sails for the rest of the day, and arrived into Cowes happy, challenged and rewarded. With a real sense of achievement, we were in a reflective mood as we made our way up to the Folly Inn.

Passing Ellen MacArthur’s imposing Trimaran, B & Q in the Medina river was another bonus for us, although we heard she was hit by a motor launch the next day with some damage to her hull… it wasn’t us; honest.

No sooner had we rafted up next to Phil and crew, so we were treated to the most potent drink known to mankind. Phil specials… Caipirinhas!!! Well, added to the surreal and dramatic sailing and the camaraderie on board, we were soon very happy sailors indeed!!!

The next morning, the other boat were far too full of the joys of springs and in such a hurry to get out and sail, they decided to ‘cast-off’ with us still attached to their side. After travelling half way down to Cowes, we eventual un-tied the ropes holding us together.

Sunday allowed us a good half day sail, and more practice on sailing with spinnakers. and although the wind dropped for the while, we only just got the sail down before we were actually hit by a squall with gusts up to force 8 and driving rain, and we headed back to base with just a main up with two reefs, and no jib nor genoa.

I know I learnt an enormous amount and I am so indebted not only to our skipper, Hey-You Richard, but to my crew mates, Our Richard, Dave, and Brian for having the courage to support and teach me so much.
Sandy

HSSC Crew:

Solent One
Skipper… Hey-You Richard
Dave Robson
Brian Attridge
Richard Marks
Sandy Kattan

Solent Two
Skipper…Ray
Phil Sugarman
Gilad Shub
Victor Newton
Jac Harris

Sandy Kattan

One boat, one weekend, fifteen crew (mainly novices), loads and loads of food and various libations, and Jac’s birthday. Sun, sea and …………….?… FOG

The season has begun.. its official.. and Phil, Jac’n Sands bashed on down to Hamble to prepare Neptune’s Spirit for the dozen or so visitors that would walk her decks and sit in her cockpit throughout the weekend.

By chartering for four days, we could invite an additional 5 people at any one time to share the sailing, and culinary experience, and allow a number of day sailors to join the resident crew.

The weather was perfect.. light winds on Saturday and more spirited 5/6 on Sunday. Much sunshine; Jac’s birthday and an average quantity of Alcohol, (Champagne breakfast on Sat and Caipirinhas a plenty!)

Let Phil take up the storyline……………!

Cut to 15:30 hours on Saturday afternoon:

“We are moored in East Cowes. The sun is shining and I am lounging on the coachroof, eating another excellent meal and sipping a glass of chilled white. Looking at the buildings on the west shore of the Medina, I pan along to look north and see, to my horror, that there is a fog bank somewhere over the Solent. What should I do? An hour and a half later and Neptune’s Spirit was safely tied up on the pontoon at Hamble Point Marina. Two of the crew disembarked, as planned. I had a double Scotch (Laphroaig – thanks Sandy). Thanks to Yaron, in particular, for helping to get us across safely. Neptune’s Spirit has no radar, but my handheld GPS (to steer well clear of the Area of Concern) and VHF radio (for listening in to Vessel Traffic Services), the controls of which I am extremely familiar with, were worth every single penny!”

Because Sands is really lazy person, and ‘cos she wanted everyone to work just a teeny bit harder, here are some quotes from our expanded crew for the weekend:-

“From me and Maz, it was awesome and we really enjoyed meeting everyone and the sailing was great!”
Michelle Weltman, Maccabi GB

“It was a really good introduction for me to practical, hands on sailing. With good weather, good food, the sea, a calm and encouraging skipper and great company! I can’t think of a better way to spend a Sunday (or any other of the week!).”
Janice Segal

“I feel I was lucky to discover what team work is. There was no doubt in my mind that the boat was under full control of its skipper, commander and crew. Sailing, befriending, celebrating and eating non stop was a breath of fresh air… “
Semi.. (Smadar Sahar)

“Going sailing was the most amazing experience in the whole world after Jerusalem and Shabbas. I really enjoyed it and learnt so much in one day and it was amazing to have experienced the fog!
I could quite happily sail away. It is an amazing experience I can’t even put into words how I feel about it. I always knew I wanted to do it and I am sure I am going to have more sailing experiences.” Ruth Ben Adir

There is no doubt that this formula worked really well.. can we contrive to hold the next one on someone else’s birthday?? I know the Champagne Breakfast was a big attraction! Any offers??

Looking forward to seeing the first timers aboard this weekend’s sail on many future occasions.

Thanks to everyone who took part in the weekend:

Phil Sugarman
Jac Harris
Yaron Peled
Janet Sinfield
Smadar Sahar (Semi)
Ruth Yael Ben Adir
Gilad Shub
Gill Burns
Avril Burns
Janice Segal
Stanley Saffer
Anthony Osoff
Michelle Weltman
Maz Sharpe

Sandy Kattan

March 2005

Kornati Region

Itinerary Friday 3rd Sep Fly London Gatwick-Split – Transfer to Betina Marina (Murter) Friday night in Marina aboard Jasna, 35’ Activity. Saturday 4th Sep Betina Marina – Bain Bay (Zut) Overnight Mooring buoy Sunday 5th Sep Bain – Betina Marina – Vodice (Mainland) Overnight Vodice marina Monday 6th Sep Vodice – Privic (south of the "e" in Vodice) Overnight Privic at anchor Tuesday 7th Sep Privic – Levso (by the "R" in Kornati) Overnight mooring buoy Wednesday 8th Sep Levso – Telascica Bay (south end Dugi Otok) Overnight mooring buoy Thursday 9th Sep Telascicsa – Zut Bay Overnight mooring buoy Friday 10th Sep Zut Bay – Betina Marina Transfer to Split for return flight Sailing distance covered 139 Nm

The Crew

Skipper – Phil Skipper’s Mate – Jacquie, Crew – Janet, Sefton and Sandy Coffee Maker 1st Class – Richard (note the promotion from cabin boy second class!!) Where to begin Everyone’s heard of Enid Blyton’s Famous Five and Secret Seven, but here is an even more amazing adventure story, all about HSSC very own Sea Sick Six.The hardy crew of six flew off to Croatia to set sail in the Adriatic Sea and each day proved to be an adventure in its own right, with laughter, danger, tears and joy. So read on and enjoy this very special tale of the Sea Sick Six. In line with true HSSC tradition, we ensured we had crew with the right skills mix for all eventualities, including our very own on-board lawyer (Sefton), as you never know when a lawsuit is in the offing. As with all HSSC events, food plays a central part of the sailing experience, so we were very fortunate to have Jacquie and Sandy on-board, two world-renowned experts in the field of ‘Food – the Art of Jewish Sailing’. Janet was our voice of reason and provided us with a calming influence when others started to lose their rag and/or the plot.

The Flight to Croatia

For those people who hark back to the good old days of the iron curtain, you can’t get a much better a reminder of those jolly days, than the ‘in-flight’ service by Air Croatia. All their crew undergo a three-year training course run by the Aeroflot charm school. Air Croatia ‘customer care’ is something to behold. Phil being a brave sea dog, decided to eat the meal provided by our wonderful hostess. By the way, these charmless beauties, are all ex shot-putters. When Phil asked the trolley dollies what the sloops (sorry, I mean food) on the plate is, they were so taken a back by what we saw as Phil’s bravery, they threaten to throw him of the plane, mid flight.

Log

Friday 3rd September

A hot sweaty bus transfer from Split airport took us to our boat in Betina Marina, Murter. We got acquainted with Jasna, our 35’ Activity yacht. This was quickly followed by dinner in marina restaurant. In good measure, this was followed by drinks in the much more companiable local hostelry. Then off we went to our bunks and sleep came easy till morning. Our boat 35-foot Activity yacht, is one of six Bavaria look-alikes especially built in Slovenia for the charter company. In line with most traditional charter yachts, its easier and quicker to list what equipment worked, rather than bore you with the lengthy list of what didn’t work. So, we are pleased to report that the fenders and wooded plank provided were of the highest quality. That night was our first meeting with the head of the charter company commonly known as Smarmy Gary (sadly we meet up with this low life on many more occasions). Smarmy Gary (SG for short) spent about an hour trying to persuade us to follow the rest of the charter fleet on the week’s excursion, starting off with a day sail to an island about 1,000 meters away from Betina marina (the port where we picked up the boat). The more SG said about the great itinerary he had put together for those people on the flotilla boats, the more we realised we needed to avoid them like the plague.

Saturday 4th September

We awoke to the sound of wind, having been told by SG the night before, there will be NO wind in the morning, but the sounds of the wind blowing through the rigging tell us something quite different. Phil, Jac, and Richard attend the briefing. Again SG and Co tried their hardest to get us to tag along with them, but we make it clear to them we have other plans. Jacquie and Sandy went off to explore what the local retail fraternity could offer and sought out breakfast products. They came back to the boat armed to the teeth with a range of homegrown fruit and vegetables sold by the local ‘rent a granny’ brigade. These wonderful old ladies all dressed in black and missing in teeth, were only to pleased to sell us their wares. Jacquie and Sandy returned with all we required from the local Granny brigade on roadside. This gives a whole new aspect on curb crawling! Even at rip-off tourist prices, we still only paid a few pennies for fruit and veg that set your taste buds alive. So we had the first of many mouth-watering meals aboard. Wonderful, sweet, deep red tomatoes were consumed by all. Even Richard was impressed !!! After the briefing, we undertook the serious task of provisioning for the week. As always in HSSC, this was a military operation directed by Jacquie and Sandy. Sefton as if by magic, found a trolley to move the ton of food we bought to the boat. After completing our provisioning, Janet deicided she was not satisfied with our storing abilities, so she reorganises all our supplies so we would actually know where anything was kept. Satisfied we could not starve and with the local shop keepers running off to the local church to give thanks for the huge profits they’ve just made, we set sail and began our voyage of discovery against a backdrop of islands that were continually changing. That afternoon, we finally moored in the bay opposite the village (okay, one building) of Bain, on the island of Zut. Immediately, we dived off to swim in the clear blue waters. We made it to shore and felt it was important to enhance diplomatic relations with the locals by consuming a carafe of local vino, the first but by no means last alcohol intake of the day. The consumption of alcohol was to become a constant pattern of the trip. Dinner in local restaurant, comprising selection of fish and veg and salads; and again, much local wine and beer.

Sunday 5th September

We listened to a howling gale all night gusting 30K. Richard made several night time visits to deck and mast to check all was okay. This allowed the rest of us to sleep more soundly and with confidence! Right!! Gradually, as dawn approached the winds began to subside a little and the odd hour of kip followed! Coffee and brekkie, as usual was a most important ritual. This was followed by the sighting of ‘Thong Man’. With our first acquaintance with ‘Thong Man’, delighted squeals were heard emanating from the three women following the first of what was to be many sightings. This hardy chap (allegedly of good physique) proudly paraded his wares to all and sundry, on an all-male German boat, moored on the next-door buoy. Cries of appreciation went up from the female members of our crew as ‘thong man’ displayed his body for their contemplation. After the women recovered (which took quite some time), we got down to the serious business of eating breakfast. From then on in, Sandy would measure the success of each day by the number of sightings she had of thong man (or not!!) Finally, we set sail from Zut to Bikirijica. However, after sailing for about two hours, the wind started to pick up and so another adventure was about to unfold. At around 11.10 whilst putting in a second reef in the mainsail, a batten flew waywardly out of the sail and headed directly for Richard’s forehead, carving a 2 cm long cut deeply into the flesh. Despite being rapidly converted to a bloodied Spiderman-like character, brave Richard never flinched, moreover and after a very brief inspection by Dr Phil, he carried on bravely until control of the boat was regained and all crew quite safe. Blood was removed from the boat and Richard (in that order). After the cut was inspected by the entire crew and legal advice given by Sefton, we turned about and motored swiftly back to Betina Marina, a name that is beginning to grate ever so slightly. Upon arriving back at Betina marina we were met by our dear friend (not) SG. Having spent the last hour reading up his charter’s guidebook entitled ‘don’t blame me if there’s something wrong with the boat’; SG came over to greet us. Naturally, we were all delighted to see him again. SG, who so lacked the charm of a diplomat, patronisingly took away the sail for repair, and, because it was Sunday, the only sail repairer conscious in the area was several km away. However, SG took time to say that the reason the baton came out of its sleeve had nothing to do with the sail being badly maintained or the baton being too long for the sleeve. It was at this point that Jacquie thought it would be helpful to have a ‘few words in his shell-like’. From that point on, SG turned off the smarm, and tried to just keep to getting the sail repaired. So after eating lunch, using the facilities, getting a steri-strip on RM’s cut, we proceeded to our next port of call without a mainsail. We passed under a beautiful swing bridge, which enabled us to arrive in day light at the marina in Vodice. There we had arranged to meet up with Gill and Robert and retrieve our hopefully repaired sail. The mooring up at Vodice caused all sorts of excitement. No, not just because Gill and Robert were moored up further along the pontoon, but ‘thong man’ and crew were moored opposite us. In a brave attempt to calm the women down, Sefton took off his shirt and showed the world that he too can display his ‘body beautiful’. Somehow, this did not have the same effect on Jacqui, Janet and Sandy. Our dear friend SG turned up with the repaired sail and it was soon fixed back on the mast. No sooner was the sail attached to the mast than SG couldn’t be seen for dust, which was a bit of a blessing. Finally, after a somewhat stressful day, we relaxed with our Pimm’s and began to feel the safe cosy feeling that was to remain with us, thankfully, for the rest of the trip. A later stroll through the town unveiled its more tranquil and local side and we found a traditional drinking establishment (Konoba Drazi, Grgurev Tonca, 22211 Vodice, Croazia), far from the glitz, that so happened to offer great food as well. The locals looked on at our raucous laughter at some of Phil’s more unusual A & E stories and the last vestiges of stress were swept away in an ever so slightly alcoholic haze. Monday 6th September

Sail from Vodice to Privic

Sefton having completed a successful bread finding mission, we set out morning libations. We set sail at round 10.45 after breakfast and taking on even more provisions, including a frying pan, as Jasna leaves a little to be desired in the utensils department! We reached ‘No House Bay’ (later to be renamed ‘No Thong Bay’) around lunchtime. Some swam and others rowed ashore to check out the island and we were immediately joined by an army of invading wasps. Lovely. Not to be outdone by thong man, another boat full of Germans, decided to enter ‘no house bay’ with their crew wearing nothing but smiles. One particular oik decided that he needed to wave to us by using his wedding tackle as a flag of friendship. It was at this point that Phil thought it wise to disarm Richard of the distress flare he was about to point towards the yacht off our port side. After Janet and Richard fell prey to stings, we retired back to boat and cast off for Privic arriving around 7.00 pm. Just as Sandy and Janet were about to prepare dinner, Jac and Phil returned from a reckie ashore to pronounce they’ve found a super eatery. All kitchen activity ceased immedately except for preparing sundowners! No resistance there then! The restaurant was on quayside and very rustic. Yet another gourmet repast washed down by more, yes wait for it… alcohol! (AA watch out for an influx of new members!) Richard very happy with the pizza; Sefton couldn’t have been happier choosing his fruit juice from the complete array placed before him on the table. A Max Bygraves look-alike waited at table most attentively and sent us back to boat with much treasured ice!! Apparently ice is a rarity in this part of Croatia, but for some reason, Janet’s charm prevailed each and every time, and we never parted with money even once! That night we slept as very happy sailors indeed. Tuesday 7th September

Sail from Privic to Levso, South Kornati (Barren Islands)

Jac, Phil and Sandy get up real early to explore the Pine forests above Privic. Others remain aboard to relax in peace! On way back to boat, an order for fresh sardines is placed and collected later with even more ice to cool their passage! After a good sail, we entered Levso bay and aim for a mooring buoy. However, with the wind whipping up, a small section of foresail refusing to be furled (yup, yet another piece of equipment not working properly) and a very heavy buoy on a short line, it became apparent we were not going to moor up in any conventionally easy manner. With quite an audience, the crew reluctantly provided the cabaret for the evening, finally completing the task with Phil’s bright idea of lassoing the buoy. It seems this is the way to do it as we watch most others use this method immediately! Tensions gradually ease with the help of … yes you got it…. more alcohol. Scotch this time!

	Happily the sardines travelled well, tucked up tightly in the heads and Rich and Jac set about gutting and cleaning them. After dining well on rice, sardines, bean salad and ratatouille, its was party time, complete with Phil’s flashing miners lamp and pole dancers! (enough said already).
	Later that night the winds of the forecast Bora move in and the “meercat” effect came into play. Phil, Richard and occasionally Jacquie took turns to go up on deck and check all was well to allow the rest of us to sleep in peace and tranquillity! Right!

Wednesday 8th September

Levso to Telascica Nature Reserve

Short motor sail, light winds arrived by late lunchtime in order for us to hook up with Gill and Robert. We arrive first and of course, just as soon as we moored, so the winds pick up! As Gill and Co entered the bay we signalled them to join us in a glass of Pimm’s. No sooner had Gill rafted-up next to us and glasses of booze passed over, did the Kornati’s ‘job-worth’ come charging over in his motor driven rib, saying its absolutely forbidden to raft up etc. We tied to explain to him the importance the British place on the ritual of drinking Pimm’s, but to no avail. Sadly, we set Gill’s boat free and waved them off, but this didn’t stop us returning to the Pimm’s and Gill to continue a spirited sail. So we parted company with Gill and crew, and the Sea Sick Six had lost their playmates. This was to be our last sighting of Gill, until she was once again seen in the Hendon Hall hotel car park a few weeks later.
After refreshments, a few of us explored the Nature reserve and hiked around the Salt Lake, coming across an extraordinary sculptured stone garden about half way around the bay, with a stunning view across the other side of the island. We added our own art work to the massed stone cavalry and returned to base to rest for a few hours before dining on Sardine Hors d’oevres, followed by stuffed peppers, salt potatoes and onions, pasta and sun dried tomato sauce etc; etc. well this is the HSSC cordon bleu cruise isn’t it ??!! Following the meal we repair to our dinghy that can only take four people. So Richard in true cabin-boy style rows backwards and forwards until we are all ashore. Yet again, we head for a Bar for….. a few more drinks!

Thursday 9th September

Oh sad day; our last full day’s sailing before we leave… too painful to bear and a combination of breathtaking scenery and the amazing camaraderie of the six fearless friends on board, there were odd moments of melancholy at the thought of leaving this paradise. This time we go for an early start and sail to Bain Bay, on Zut for a brunch time mooring. Sefton takes the helm for most of this leg, successfully holding the course in fairly strong winds. We maintained a speed of 6 knots for most of the day and were treated to a Sandy special 360-degree gybe!! From Bain to Island 36, we moor successfully in Zmanja bay at around 17.30 in time for a swim, and sundowners with beautiful Kodak moments. Sandy had by now become a complete mop and tears flow at regular intervals! Dinner ashore in really posh restaurant with great food. We laughed and cried in equal measure, toasting everyone and everything… we have become a real team, a true HSSC family. We returned to the boat with an air of acceptance that we are truly on the homeward leg. Were it not for the alcohol we would have been really maudlin! Friday 10th September 02.00 Slumber interrupted by winds picking up again. Sandy and Janet wonder why Notre Dame is ringing its bell above their cabin, but somehow can’t do anything about it. Finally, at 04:30 Richard stops being a lazy cabin-boy and gets up to stop the anchor swinging like a bell. A little sleep ensues but dawn approaches and we make an early dash for Betina, and tie up. Strangely, there is a distinct lack of the animated and ever helpful SG. His second in command does make a cameo appearance, however and we all have the distinct feeling that the Activity team are more than a little pleased to see the back of us! Being a shy and retiring bunch, we had decided to ask the flotilla staff how come SG wasn’t there to see us off. At this point, a number of grown men were seen having an ‘awkward moment’ and generally looking down at their feet. We decided to help them out of the odd pose they had adopted, by asking if by any chance, SG non-appearance had anything to do with the quality customer care he had provided us with earlier on in the week. Silly schoolboy smirks rose across their faces, so we decided that we shouldn’t hoist our dissatisfaction upon on these poor souls, just because we’ve been denied having one more opportunity to give SG a verbal kicking. So at this point, Richard told our non-english speaking mini bus driver to take us to Split airport for the journey back home. Naturally, the driver totally ignored Richard and in his own good time, drove us to our plane. We sat, sadly watching paradise fading behind us despite the stunning views from the bus. Our flight is on time; our luggage out first, and still we all feel just a little lost in our own thoughts and reflections of an amazing and exhilarating week at one with the wonders of land and sea.

Finally

So ends the tale of the Sea Sick Six; we hope you’ve enjoyed reading about our tales of adventure and fun. At the moment, the entire crew are in rehab, addressing their alcohol dependency issues. We look forward to meeting up with all our friends in HSSC, so we can bore you with all our stories and memories from our wonderful sailing experience in Croatia. Richard Marks Sandy Kattan

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Skipper- Gilad

Navigator and Barman – Phil

Helm – Sam

Entertainments Officer – Sandy

Head Chef – Jackie

Cabin Boy 2nd Class – Richard

The weekend started by a dash down to the Hamble friday afternoon. However, the dash rapidly turned into a crawl as what seamed like half of London, decided to escort us out of London and on the M3.

Ship’s Log

Friday

Upon arrival at Hamble Point, we undertook a detailed ship’s survey to ensure that the boat could carry the three tons of food Jackie and Sandy brought without sinking. Cleary, they had miss-read the brief Gilad gave them on provisioning, they were only asked to bring sufficient food for us, and not for every boat entering the race.

After making the boat ready, removing the anchor from the bow (in preparation for the race), hoisting our flags, etc, we set sail for East Cowes at about 6.30 pm. After a pleasant sail across in light winds and sunshine, we were met by Sam, who came out on river taxi escorted us into the marina. Sam tried to claimed he was acting as our pilot and making sure we could find our berth!

As soon as we tied up, Phil got out his magic box and stated to mix a few cocktails. At about 10 pm, after being fuelled by Phil’s delicious fire water, we sat down for the serious business of a friday night meal. Yes, we had the full monty including Candles; Palwins no 4 wine; Challa; Chicken; etc.

Saturday

Gilad had the cheek to say we had to get up at 05.30. So after a lengthy period of high level negotiations the night before, we got up at 05.45.

Following a light breakfast (though I’m not so sure the volume of food consumed could be measured by such terms), we set off for the start line. After a clever piece of positioning by our skipper, we got off to a flying start towards the head of our class, crossing the line at 07.20.

For those who may be interested in the technical side, the wind was around force 5 for most of the race and blowing south-southwest.
With the wind picking up, just before Hurst Castle, we put a reef in the main sail. This proved to be an astute call, as most of the boats going around the Needles were over canvassed and struggling to hold their course.

By around 09.30, we started to pass the Needles and due to some really skilful helming by Sam, we were now over taking boats that started 20 minutes before us. By the time we reached St Catherine’s Point, we were over-taking boats that had gone off three start times before us.

Our tacticians Gilad and Phil wisely set a course taking us away from the shoreline. This tack meant we kept out of the fleet, missing the need to continuously tack in order to avoid other boats and getting caught in the foul-air of other boats.

As we passed St Catherine’s Point, we started to work our way towards the island. By the time we reached Bembridge, we were on the outside edge of the main pack. By now unless we over took bigger and supposedly faster boats, we couldn’t be bothered to take any notice of the many boats we sailed past.

The next leg from Bembridge to the Forts, we goose-winged. About 400 meters before the island-side fort, we changed tack passing the fort on our port-side. Then we went hell for leather for the line.

Boat after boat had the pleasure of seeing the stern of our boat. For some reason, another three boats in our division decided to race us to the line, (what fools). Without any effort, we glided past the first boat. The second boat a classic wooded mast cruiser, made us work hard before we gave them the slip. But the best was saved for last. A 38′ boat was merrily making its way, thinking they had seen off all the boats flying white racing flags, only for us to creep up and pass it about 300m from the finish line.

The rain held off until we crossed the finish line. We didn’t even have a chance to drop our sails before the skies opened, but our jubilance at finishing in such style meant the rain didn’t bother us.

Without doubt, it was the extra canvas we carried i.e. both the Israeli and Welsh flags together with the club burgee, gave us the extra speed to go around the island and set what’s probably a club record of 7 hours, 51 minutes and 36 seconds. I have to report that some ungentlemanly comments were made by all but one member of the crew about the flag with the red dragon and in particular, the suggestions made by our navigator as to where the place the flag were not only cruel, but also physically impossible!!!

Once we got back into our berth at East Cowes, out came the first bottle of bubbly. This was soon followed by a second bottle, which kinda felt like the right thing to do. Thereafter, in addition to the odd cup of tea and coffee, some beverages with slight alcoholic undertone, were consumed before, during and after our meal and indeed for the rest of the night.

Later that evening, we went over to the Island Sailing Club to find out our finish place. We came 9th out of 66 boats in our class, which really was the icing on the cake, after completing the course in such a fast time. Seeing name of our boat, skipper and time on the boards and on the screens was a perfect end to a wonderful day. Buoyed on by this, we felt it was our duty to let everyone in competitors tent know how well we had done and how pleased we were of ourselves!!!

Sunday

Phil and Sandy jump ship in the morning. Phil went off to meet up with Frank to go to Fennlla & Lester’s wedding (mazel tov to the happy couple), before setting sail for the channel islands. Whilst Sandy headed back to London to attend a community award event.

The rest us did breakfast, which was quite a production. Following yet another injection of food and coffee, we headed off to sea. The sun was out and the wind was blowing 5/6, so we were all happy little sailors. In the afternoon, we took the boat back to its home port and then had yet another three course meal.

The HSSC is famous for its food, however without doubt, Jackie and Sandy surpassed themselves and went above and beyond the call of duty, providing us wonderful hot meals and non-stop food and drink throughout the weekend.

As with all good things, the weekend came to an end. The sense of achievement and the great company meant even though the journey back to London was horrible, we were comforted by knowing we had a brilliant weekend and a wonderful sailing experience.

Richard Marks

Suitably enlivened by drink and having been told by our skipper “the Wondrous Steve” that the boat was ready and waiting, we went immediately to the restaurant. It was an obvious thing to do as the restaurant was next door to the taverna.

It has to be remembered that the really serious sailing fraternity have a legend by which they live. If you drink and eat enough this will make the rain and bad weather go away.

So having eaten and drunk almost enough, Wondrous Steve and his crew made a carefully calculated decision that in spite of the weather they would sail to Nidri. This was not an easy decision to make because the shops were shut so the brave “WS” and his indomitable crew had no provisions. No food and no water was acceptable, but no alcohol? This was unheard of and many hardened sailors would say absolute folly.

But off they went, there was a rousing cheer from their supporters and onlookers and a few wise heads being shaken sagely. What, however, those on shore had forgotten was that “WS” had purloined one precious bottle of wine.

Now according to the navigational wizards, Nidri was only about 8 miles away, an hour and a half of easy sailing.

Out through the narrow channel crept the boat and ultimately to the open sea. As with all sailing journeys, the way was wet, but as the legend had foretold the eating and drinking had caused the rain to subside and the salty waters to calm down.

“WS” and his intrepid crew pushed on when all of a sudden they found themselves in un-chartered water. They appeared lost. The instruments went haywire and the trusty GPS still thought it was in the Solent.

The wheel was given to Seaman Stan, who steered ahead with a steady hand. Wondrous Steve and Valiant Victor studied the charts with zeal. The wine (only one bottle) was passed around and everyone tried to ease the tension. Meanwhile Seaman Stan steered onward, trusting in the guidance of his fearless skipper Wondrous Steve.

Suddenly through a narrow channel the ship went and it opened out into the large bay of Nidri. A cheer went up. But where to moor. The natives were not encouraging and finding a spot was not easy. Wondrous Steve took over the helm and with measured skill threaded his way to a safe mooring.

Skipper and crew all relaxed. The boat was moored up and everyone stepped on dry land, eager for food and drink.

Nidri proved to be a delight to one and all. Provisions galore and a variety of eating establishments for the evening meal. Again to give credit to the legend, the Wondrous Steve and his intrepid crew both ate and drank to make sure that there was to be no more rain. To keep the crew going the Wondrous Steve would drink at least two beverages for each one that his crew took. The evening meal in Nidri was merry, but uneventful. There was, however, one thing of note. Wondrous Steve picked a meal that left the crew full of fear and admiration. His first course was “Big Beans”. Now this he took to help fill the sails the following day, but the crew, especially Luscious Louise had to await the results that night. I can, however report the Luscious Louise emerged the next day unharmed.

Second Day

Morning came and with it the sunshine. Wondrous Steve and his crews eating and drinking had scared away the rains and the demons.

Seaman Stan was first on deck. He looked about him in an unfamiliar harbour. All experienced seaman have an inbuilt sense of self-preservation. There was to Seaman Stan an unmistakable whiff of the luxury of land and in particular the scent of freshly baked bread.

Leaving the exhausted crew to rest, Seaman Stan went off in search of breakfast and food for the rest of them. He returned suitably provisioned to find that Valiant Vic and Active Anthony already up and about. It was decided to serve Wondrous Steve and the Luscious Louise breakfast in bed in the hope of gaining further favours from both WS and LL.

WS emerged from his cabin and barked his orders to make ready the boat. The crew got ready the lines and the days hard sailing began, but Seaman Stan had a surprise for all the crew, he produced from an unused tin of Janneau Cognac the ships new mascot, Polly the Parrott! To the glee of the crew Polly was fixed to her place of honour and the crew relaxed.

The ship was set for a course to Fiscardo on the Isle of Cephallonia. All was set for an easy sail. The sun was shining, the winds steady and the storms of the previous day seemed to have disappeared. Clearly however the crew had not eaten and drunk enough to dispel the weather legend. Within 10 minutes of the start, the wind blew up and the sea started a heavy swell. The boat was being buffeted from side to side and the crew wrestled with the sails and sheets whilst a force 8 wind blew.

Valiant Victor was at the helm, and under the direction of Wondrous Steve they tried to steady the boat. The swell got bigger, the wind got stronger and the crew grew tired. For hours they struggled to keep the boat on course, the blistered hands a sure tell tale sign of constant struggle. The clouds grew darker, the rain threatened and the crew became nervous, but Pugnacious Polly stuck firmly to her perch. She and the crew battled on. Hours later (the crew going without food and drink) the boat, the crew and Polly, exhausted but safe, steered into harbour at Fiscardo.

The safe haven of the bay offered welcome shelter. Immediately spirits revived and the crew made ready to visit the nearest hostelry. All were eager to have their feet touch dry land and their throats the golden liquid of the local Retsina.

Various exploratory trips were made, but Active Anthony went in search of two wheeled transport to explore the land.

Each reported back to Wondrous Steve as to the location of the various provisions. Other boats from the flotilla arrived and a warm up drinks session was held on CHARLIE I. All crews feeling sufficiently inebriated they then retired to a local taverna for substantial sustenance and drink. They were greeted with cheers from the locals and Rick the Spik from the taverna came out to meet them in his white dress uniform. The crew ate and drank heartily, speeches of congratulations made and all went away suitably replenished.

That night Wondrous Steve and his crew played the game of mental cruelty called “Name that Tune”. It was torture for all and more drink was needed. Stoic Sefton ran screaming to his bunk and the others did not last much longer. The rest of the night was peaceful.

The Third Day
The crew was up bright and early the next day. The first area of concern was breakfast. In order to pacify the crew Seaman Stan made French Toast for all. It was difficult at first because the French toaster could not be found. Nevertheless the meal was made and served. However three of the crew did not partake, so Seaman Stan got the benefit of their rations too. It was a heavier Stan that got up from the table.

When all were back on board the ship set sail for the port of Vathi. The sun was out and all looked well from the innards of the harbour. The crew were not to know that just 2 miles away a storm was brewing.

With a half hour the wind was again blowing a force 7/8. The sea was choppy and the footsteps of the crew unsteady. Seasickness was rife, but Wondrous Steve wanted to test his trusty crew to the hilt. He wanted to practice M.O.B. (man overboard).

He was about to push a member overboard, but this day the sea Gods were with the crew. Wondrous Steve lifted his hand from the sea chart to push in an unwitting crewman, and in so doing let go of the sea chart. This caused the sea chart to be blown from the deck table to the sea. So MOB became COB (chart overboard). The crew rapidly pulled down the sails and the ship came about. Try as they might the chart just floated further and further away. Disaster !! they were now going to have to navigate by the stars. The chart had gone, despite several attempts.

Lunch was called for SS and LL prepared a banquet of fish, salads, cheese, bread and wine. The fish, fresh from the sea (via the tin) and the salads bought that morning. The crew ate and drank rapidly but heartily, and the boat kept going.

More sailing and eventually they reached the harbour of Vathi, but the natives here were unfriendly and at first it was difficult to moor, but a spot was found across the bay among some friendlies and the boat came to rest.

The first thing to be done was alcoholic refreshment. A nearby hostelry was found and WS and his crew refreshed themselves with the fruit of the hop and the vine.

It was here that Active Anthony came into his own. He requisitioned a motor bike and started to explore the town. The others went and explored the immediate area, looking for cleaning facilities. It must be remembered that this was the third day and no decent latrines had been discovered. The odour below was turning sour. However the crews efforts and even those of AA were un-rewarded, but a good hostelry was found for dinner.

After dinner the crew retired to the ship, but another attempt at spot that tune was just as painful. A few card tricks were shown, but bed beckoned all after a very demanding day.
Day Four
Vathi was an uninspiring port, so the crew moved on quickly. The idea was to travel to Calamos via a lunch stop at One House Bay and rendezvous with the rest of the fleet.

The weather was clear, sunnier and more sedate. The sea calm and apart from their strangely sour smell, the crew felt content.

An uneventful cruise to One House Bay and all was well. The crew in good humour. WS being generous with the grog and the ship leading the pack of three, thanks to WS’s superior sailing skills. They anchored safely and quietly in the bay.

LL and SS prepared a sumptuous feast of vegetables and cheese omelettes, salad, fresh bread and more grog. Indeed the food was so good, others came calling to sample it, but they went away disappointed. AA and LL went for a swim and then it was time to go onward to Calamos.

Calamos had a reputation of unfriendly locals so the crew prepared for a struggle to dock. However, nothing could be further from the truth. Harbour mate George ran out to meet them, guided them in and cleared spaces for the rest of the fleet. An exploration of the town and it was revealed that there were no shops to plunder. The crew were now realising that momentos had to be brought back to England to prove the journey and time was running out. However, the locals on Calamos had nothing to plunder and so it meant more eating and drinking.

George laid a table for all the fleet. Toasts were drunk and eating began. A gargantuan meal and again WS was liberal in allowing the crew to drink away. It must be remembered that some of the crew were growing homesick for their loved ones. This affected their ability to perform. The grog helped them forget.

Day Five or FTBH

Bright and early, about 11.00am the crew in jolly mood, (after breakfasting ashore at Madam Panis) and one or two clutching a bad head, the captain set sail for Palairos. The weather was inclement, the crew tired from heavy sailing and WS realised that all needed a rest. For once the crew were given a short 2½ hour sail to Palairos. They docked there for lunch. However on arrival the bay was already full and the natives were protecting their territory. Winding carefully through anchor chains, WS brought the good ship CHARLIE III to a safe haven and the crew disembarked for grog and exploration.

A grogery was found in the centre of town run by the innkeeper Stavros. A friendly man and clearly, by the size of his belly hanging over his belt, a sampler of his wife’s cooking, and by the fact of his flies being constantly open a sampler of the local women who came to his inn. The cigarette dangling from his mouth helped disguise his bad breath.

The crew felt immediately at home in his company. The grog was good and the moussaka even better. There was talk of gun running from a table nearby and this made WS feel more in tune with the place.

After lunch the crew split up to roam for plunder, but the town itself was bereft of trophies so an exploration for an evening meal was made.

In the meantime, the rest of the fleet were due in. The bay was full but arrangements made to squeeze them in. CHARLIE I came in first. It was a swirling breeze and a tight space. They laid anchor, but alas it got caught in the chain of a native. They raised anchor and the natives chain would not let go. The crew wrestled with the problem, using a boat hook. Eventually the chain was freed but in so doing the boat hook was lost. When pointed out by a native a cry of “fuck the boat hook” went up from CHARLIE I. This will now become the fleets password.

Lodgings for dinner was found for all 16 and LL and SS were offered a shower together. Now SS was sorely tempted but he knew this would not be allowed by WS so to kill his ardour he took a cold shower.

Dinner that night was merry but uneventful and the crew retired to bed.

Day 6
Nobody felt like breakfast so the crew set sail really early by 10.30am. The heading was for Sivota, but via Sparticairy. The winds were weak and the seas were calm, the crew were bored and Luscious Louise became a dangerous distraction. WS kept a watchful eye on the crew and as a distraction issued more grog, but the rumblings went on and the winds still held back. WS decided to use the iron sail to speed the passage and the crew went forward to lunch to Sparticairy.

They were welcomed at the port by Costa who steered them in and they moored bow to with Lazy Lines on each side. Lunch was unexciting but the grog kept flowing.

WS noticed a mountain climb into the town above and led the crew upwards and onwards. They climbed ever up and arrived at a sleepy hamlet. A deserted hostelry gave them drink and the crew started downwards. Once on the ship the crew set sail for Sivotha.

By now the winds were up and the seas were stormy. The ship sailed close hauled on a starboard tack, but AA needed to visit the heads. Alas the sea cocks had not been closed, the ship keeled over to 90°. The window was not shut. AA doing a standing pee was shocked. Water came in from the window and up the toilet and through the sink. AA hung on for dear life, but got soaked in the process. Clothes and tackle and goods went flying, but again with VV at the helm and WS directing operations, the crew brought matters under control.

The wind suddenly dropped and eventually the boat limped in to the dock at Sivota. However docking at Sivota was a problem. As the stern of the boat neared to the dock SS was ready to leap to the land with the lines. He was about to jump when the anchor chain caught. The boat momentarily stopped, but SS was committed to his leap, or fall into the sticky mire below. He dived for the quay. Face down he got there but dropped the rope. This neared the propeller. However he rescued it quickly, despite his injuries and all was well. Immediately the crew retired to the grogery.

Day 7
The crew set sail to meet up with the rest of the fleet at Little Vathi. The weather was not helpful and the crew restless again. Contact was made with the fleet and it was agreed to meet up at 13.45.

They picked up the other boats on the way, friendly racing began and it was clear that WS and his crew always had the upper hand. Try as they might the others were no match for the superior sailing skills of CHARLIE III.

Everyone moored for lunch and a water canon fight began. WS and his crew discovered that CHARLIE I had sent a foraging party the night before and had stolen their weapons. They were at the mercy of the others, but food and drink acted as a bribe and they were safe.

The crew then left and set sail again for the home town of Lefkas. After a week of being pushed to the limit by WS both the crew and the boat were exhausted. Even the weather seemed to have blown its last and no longer filled the sails. The iron sail was set again and the final passage to Lefkas was completed.

They threaded their way up the channel to port and it was a weary crew that came to rest and broke out the grog at 19.30. devoid of plunder but full of memories.

Stanley Saffer

Ionian Flotilla 2004

Two charter boats (one skippered by Steve Moss and the other jointly skippered by Phil Sugarman and Gilad Shub) did a cross-channel night crossing, leaving the Hamble on late Thursday evening and arriving the following morning in good time for fresh croissants and coffee, which the French do oh so well.

In the meantime, the advance party took the ferry over to France a few days earlier, to work on the two club boats that Cherbourg is their home port. It was quite a sight, Birdie Three gracefully occupying pride of place in the marine car park with Mike and Annie Doctors undertaking the boat’s annual maintenance programme. Annie looked splendent in her marigolds, cleaning and directing operations.

Dave Robson and his motley crew consisting of Gilad and myself were aboard Samadhi (which was also to be found in the car park), helping Dave to get his boat ready for the season. Yes, Gilad really did come over the weekend to specially help with the anti-fouling painting. He then took the ferry back to blighty, so he could sail back to Cherbourg a few days later.

Dave invented a list of chores that if by magic, grew longer as the days went on. However, eventfully even Dave managed to run out of things that needed doing. With his boat launched, Dave finally agreed to put away his cat of nine tails, but not before he had forced me up the mast to check the rigging.

On Friday evening, 13 of us met-up on Dave’s boat for drinks, before going off for meal together in a local restaurant. The next day, Phil & Gilad together with Sandy Kattan, Jackie Harris and her daughter, sailed to St Vast, a lovely small harbour further along the Normandy coast.

The rest of us decided to spend the day in harbour. In the meantime, unknown to the rest of us, Arnold Bennett popped over the channel for lunch, on board a friend’s motorboat. That afternoon, whilst the hard working crews of Birdie Three and Samadhi were taking yet another well deserved coffee break, we heard Arnold Bennett on the VHF radio seeking out any lost souls from HSSC that might just be in Cherbourg. After a little chin-wag with Arnold, we went off to stock up on wine, cheese and other local delicacies, and start planning how we were going to get all our goodies pass UK customs control and back to North London.

As with all good things, the weekend came to a close. The two charter boat’s did the return leg of their cross-channel passage, Annie and Mike continuing to clean and scrubbing their boat. While Dave and I, well we sat on the sun-deck of the ferry, soaking up the rays.

Richard Marks