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

For some days leading up to the event, a close and watchful eye was kept on the weather forecasts, as they lurched from damp, to very wet and back again! However, we were not to be put off, and slowly, slowly, the forecasts improved enough for us to become a little less pessimistic.

I personally have been to 5 concerts over recent years, and never yet had a wet one! So with maybe unfounded optimism, and a bit of a prayer, we made ready to welcome our crew, Maureen and Diana BC and set sail for East Cowes, (via Gosport to collect Robert).

The weather remained fair as it turned out, there was no queue for the lock and the short passage on Friday from Chichester to Gosport was enjoyable, for once, with winds in the right direction to allow us to sail in a relaxed manner, rather than beat!

Friday night dinner was a traditional affair aboard Sea Dream with chicken soup, roast chick, garden veggies etc! This sailing club definitely sails on its stomach; always has, and I sincerely hope always will!

Robert arrived ahead of time on Saturday morning, hot foot from the railway via the greenie ferry! We made off for East Cowes and once again enjoyed a fair old sail, with definite hints of increasing periods of warm and sunny weather, and friendly winds.

Such good progress was made that we were able to drop the hook, and bob around in Osborne bay for an hour for a leisurely lunch on deck, in advance of the serious eating and drinking of bubbly to come later on.

Moored up in East Cowes Marina, we were joined by Nigel and Barbara for a welcome cup of tea prior to packing up at least half the contents of the food lockers and fridge, together with folding chairs, chilled bubbly, rugs, wetties etc, etc and pile all into our aged, but loyal wheelie shopping trolley… not so fashionable I grant you, but fit for purpose still after some 20 years of good use by Avi!

Steve, Louise, Anna and Yamma arrived in good time and soon we were all propelled, courtesy of the ever-efficient Jones’ Taxi service, to the grounds of Osborne house, arriving just as doors were opening, and laying claim to a prime pitch. The landlubbers:- Hilary and Nick, Victor, Gerry, Nigel and Barbara, and Steve and Val joined us as we set about laying out a veritable feast.

Much eating, drinking and amiable banter ensued, until some sort of hush fell as the concert began.

The Master Singers, William Tell and Star Wars, preceeded the Arrival of the Queen of Sheba, Danse Macabre, Strauss polkas (complete with some prancing and dancing from a few active members) giving rise to some very Close Encounters of several kinds!!!

The second half of the programme was the predictable, familiar with the “never can do without” works that feature annually at the last night of the proms in any location. Complete with the HSSC version of the sailor’s hornpipe performed with much vigour, endless flag flying and a definitely hearty round of Rule Britannia and Jerusalem, we ooohed and aaahed with the fireworks until the very last spark and ember had died away.
 

The informality of the evening, and the fairly close, friendly and intimate location shared by some many hundreds of like-minded folk gives this event its longevity and enjoyability and is why we shall return for many years we hope.

A tired but happy bunch returned to boats, guest houses, and hotels, and sleep came easy!

The following day dawned sunny and bright, and although Sea Dream encountered problems with her battery charger ably dealt with by Sea Start, otherwise known as AA for the Solent, we were all on our way home by 12.00 noon. A spritely downwind sail East in good time was only marred by the absence of free flow at the now infamous Chichester Lock. Because of the time of high water and due to the restrictions of the Neap tide, some 40 boats or more had arrived at the lock all at once and the resulting melee and scrummage persisted for more than an hour, standing ground, (or actually water!) all the time. Not fun, and definitely not what you want at the end of such a commodious weekend.

However, all was well in the end, with the stalwart Captain Avi saying calm and cool throughout. That doesn’t mean that the skippers mate, remained equally so, but that minor domestic is not subject for this report!

All had a fab time, and we are definitely planning to return next year, together with an even larger number of members and their boats, it is hoped.

Dates for next year’s concert will be available in due course from the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra web-site:- www.bsolive.com

Sandy Riegler
Sea Dream

NO HEROES this year, No wind, No race but YES, beautiful sunshine and Yes sparkling blue seas and YES the largest midsummer gathering for many years with 8 boats and 30 members dining together at the Royal London Yacht Club on Cowes Parade.

It seemed the only craft moving anywhere on the Solent were those under power!

The Rally afternoon’s principal pleasure was watching Gallivant approaching her marina berth with young Anna on the bow line and the twins and Jo on the aft lines.  Dan manoeuvred himself brilliantly into a 37ft space (Gallivant is 36ft) and a round of applause went up from a very large watching audience aboard moored marina boats.

As promised, this year the Rally met up in a different marina – Shepard’s Wharf proved to be a popular venue (the shower blocks were large, luxurious and empty and the Marina nightlife peaceful !

The HEROES Chocky’s Challenge box will remain unopened until next year.  Of the five boats in the rally departure area Sea Dream and Casco were the only two to make it across the line before they too succumbed, as had the others, to the westerly tidal flow and no wind. 

In addition to Bagadeus, Blue Lady, Casco, Gallivant and Sea Dream, joining us at Shepard’s Wharf were Ulysses, Glissando (surprise surprise) and Chai of Burnham.  Commodore Stanley amused us with his anecdotes, SC Gill said her usual bit and we had the pleasure of Barbara and Nigel Reese and Lyn Bolland’s company at the Dinner as well

Gill Woodbridge

Victor and Robert again joined owner Mike and 1st mate Pete on Matahari for the 80th anniversary Round the Island (RTI) race, started in 1931 to commemorate the 1851 race won by the America of “America’s Cup” fame.  On August 22, 1851, the America raced against 15 yachts of the Royal Yacht Squadron in the Club's annual 53-nautical-mile regatta around the Isle of Wight. America won, finishing 8 minutes ahead of the closest yacht Apocryphally. 

We even practised, but it did not help sufficiently to win.   Matahari is based in Haslar and had her bottom wiped at Hardway Marina, and a new main and genoa fitted ahead of the big day.  Water was low, fuel even lower.  The total complement was 8 of varying competence. 

On Friday we set sail for Cowes past Ryde church a few times.  The weather was not warm, but we did get a good sail.  No spinnaker practice though.

The Group 5 start time was 07h10 and we slipped East Cowes at 06h30.  The visibility was poor / foggy, the wind was getting up quite nicely, sails up, engine off, engine on, down sail to put one reef in – it was two later, engine off, and the start gun goes.  We are on starboard tack and were nearly rammed by some idiot for a later starting group hoisting sail across the start line.  Banker.  Pete told him so.

We tacked down to the Needles, with some of us acting as ballast – not quite dangling legs over the side – that would have been too professional.  At the Needles there was quite a lot of traffic, sufficient to need a bow lookout.  Some say the waves were 25 ft high, others 28 – it all depends on what reports you read – I was bow lookout and did not have a tape measure with me, but Victor says “yes”.  Suffice to say that when the bow rises on a wave it’s an awful long way down to the water in the next trough, followed a few seconds later by half calf (human rather than bovine) deep in water as the bow goes through the next crest.  Manic – but good fun.  One gets a very good almost bird’s eye view of other’s cockpits when sailing parallel to them.  This is the stuff photos are made of, but the weather was such that I did not want to risk my camera.  I did not see Beken at St Catherine’s like last year.

The lifeboat was nowhere to be seen at the Needles guiding yachts to keep clear of the wreck; it was somewhere in the bay towards Poole.  They were called out over 60 times for a variety of incidents including 6 dismastings.

We turned and were now going downwind on a starboard broad reach, with a preventer on, dong the “outside” route – straight line to St Catherine’s Point.  We were doing quite well till a gust turned the boat 90° to starboard with two boats there already.  We missed, probably only by a bit more than the thickness of the gel coat, by continuing to turn instead of trying to recover.

At St Catherine’s there were two features to avoid, an upturned cat and a fully inflated liferaft trailing behind another yacht.   The journey from there to Bembridge was relatively uneventful.  Between Bembridge buoy and the forts we passed another upturned cat, this time with the cabin visible – the one at St Catherine’s looked like a shark.

The home run was another tacking job up the Solent, and eventually the fogginess cleared and the sun came out, as did the helicopters.  The winds died a bit from F6 gusting mid F7, enough to knock a reef out.  We came across the third upturned yacht, probably a cat, but this time in tow by a couple of ribs.  Almost in the same place as last year there was a yacht aground on the sands on to the east of Ryde.  Last year it was Sunsail, this year it was a gaff rig “oldie”.  We couldn’t quite make the finish line on a single tack so tried to go into Osborne Bay and out again.  The end result was that we got to within a couple of boat lengths of the finish line when “water” was called by a boat on starboard tack.  Where did he think we could go to with a host of boats all trying to get over the line?  We finished.

We did not hit anything, nothing hit us, we did not sink – that was Pete’s department.  Mike fed us while we were going round, and by the time we got to the finish line the sun was shining properly; we went back to East Cowes to recover followed by a meal in the Island Sailing Club of which Mike is a member.

How did we do?  Mike’s aim was to better 9 hours.  We did, just, at 8h56m11s actual and 8h59m56s on corrected time.  We were 16th out of 30 finishers in 5A, and 437 overall compared with last year’s result of 28 out of 38 and 677 overall.  Overall, there were 1908 boats registered, of which1305 finished, 433 retired, and 16 were disqualified.  For more info see http://www.roundtheisland.org.uk/web/code/php/main.php?section=home .

On Sunday morning the sun had come out, the wind had dropped, and we went for a gentle potter back to Haslar.  And then the fog rolled in.  Lunch in Haslar was a rather over-heated affair – too much sun and too little shade, and all the while, the background was the fog horns of the boats in the Solent.

Do it again next year? You bet.

Robert.

With Victor as skipper, our crew comprised, Robert, and the Ramets,  -  Dave, Simon and Lorraine.

We had a hearty meal at 1730hrs at the Ketch Rigger ready for the off at 1830hrs. We finally departed Hamble Point Marina at 1900hrs making our way under power down to Bembridge. Arriving there with the last light, we set the sails with one reef for the night ahead. Dave having undertaken many sea watches was invaluable for identifying the various aspects of shipping and also staying awake.

Everyone stayed up until the beginning of the first watch  at 2200hrs.  Dave and Simon took the first four hours. At about 0130hrs they decided to motor sail as the wind was on the nose. Lorraine plied us with cuppa soups through the night, which were most welcome.
 
During the second watch, starting at 0200hrs, we experienced heavy rain and poor visibility. Keeping a watch for vessels in the shipping lanes was less stressful using radar. With a North-up display and an EBL (electronic bearing line) watching the oppostion move down the line meant danger of collision. Using the “precautionary principle” we slowed at a mile distance and steered around the stern.  On one occasion we saw the other boat on radar but not in the flesh.  Then suddenly, nav lights and two large spotlights on the stern.  Just as it passed ahead of us the nav lights disappeared and we were left with the spotlights.  This was rain showers coming down from a great height, they even showed up crossing the radar screen.

Nobody enjoyed the crossing, either being unwell or the lack of sleep.  Moral of the story – get the bucket out of the locker before you set off.

By  sunrise  we were north west of Barfleur. We considered altering course to  Cherbourg but due to the strong flood tides, we carried on around Barfleur lighthouse, on to St Vaast, finally arriving at 1030hrs BST at the visitors pontoon E05.  We tied up and explored the area. Food was on our minds so we satisfied our wants. The vin du pays is cidre, by the wine glass.  Having satisfied our stomachs, as the old saying goes – the rest of the day is yours!  So we spent it looking around the town and, suitably refreshed, we went in search of that genuine French cuisine in the evening.  Ah, but monsieur, you ‘ave not booked.  So we went Italian instead.

We decided to return during daylight the following morning. The weather and sea state improved, W 3-4  sea slight, we left Sunday morning at 0800hrs BST motoring up the coast. We left the rain hanging in the air over St Vaast and ran into brilliant sunshine that followed us the whole return journey .  After about an hour the engine water temp alarm went off.  We quickly turned off the engine and set sail giving us a cross Channel average speed of six knots. Robert found the fresh water cooling system was losing water, eventually tracing it into the bilges, the source of the problem was elusive.

Victor phoned Seastart who would meet us outside Bembridge on our arrival. Unable to board from the RIB – the seas were a bit lumpy and we were doing nearly 7 kts, we continued sailing on to Portsmouth. Robert was in charge of damage limitation, bottle in one hand, torch in the other, keeping the system full for when we required the engine at Buoy No 4 to get into Portsmouth. We moored in Haslar marina opposite the lightship at 2045hrs – just 12¾ hours after departing St Vaast.

It was a delight to sit down finally and have a spaghetti meal, with a special sauce supplied by Mr Dolmio, created by the fair hands of Lorraine and Simon. They worked so well together you wouldn’t realise they were married.

Seastart carried out the repair the next morning. Their guys know what they are looking for – there was a pin hole in the hose feeding the calorifier. With the engine cooling system now fixed, and with a good wind we sailed back past Ryde Church a couple of times and then a single long tack up the Solent and, on the same tack, up Southampton Water to Netley then  back to Hamble Point.

Over our three day jaunt the last two days completely made up for the first night.
Having crossed the Channel on numerous occasions the original milk run has changed into a test of stamina and enduring attrition. My elder son used to ask me
why sail across the Channel and take at least twelve hours when you can go on a ferry for a few hours. My original ability to explain has now eroded into self-questioning!   

Thanks to Victor for organising the trip, the Ramets  for trekking from the far East (Essex) to join the party and Robert for his assistance.

Will we do it again? Now there’s a question.

for the Shannon River Cruise click here 

for the HSSC Club Family weekend click here

for the HSSC Rally and Dinner click here

The HSSC’s first trip to Ireland bathed continuously in the warm glow of late May sunshine with visiting heads of state waiting to pull pints of Guinness for our intrepid travellers at every pub they passed. As perfect sunsets finally forced an end to each day’s idyllic cruise we would round a corner on the picturesque River Shannon to find cheery locals in colourful traditional costume performing extracts from Riverdance while waiting to take our lines. They would then carry us shoulder high through cheering crowds and quaint village streets to the waiting presidential refreshment and endless evenings of diddlee-dee, diddlee-dum music.

Er, no. The obligatory blarney aside it wasn’t quite like that for Victor, Robert, Diana, Hilary and myself. We braved frequent strong winds and downpours with intermittent  drizzle and occasional volcanic dust clouds for our river trip and subsequent city break in Dublin. However as Terry Wogan said, “nobody goes to Ireland for the weather”.  We actually had a great time with our disparate tastes ensuring that between us we sampled pretty much everything that was on offer in terms of culture, food and history.

We started off at Carrick-on-Shannon picking up our 12 metre Broom river cruiser "Swilly" and a minimum of instruction before heading off down river. Riverboat handling is very different to helming a yacht, having no keel . Long flat sides make using springs to pull off  from a berth almost impossible while a pre-battered hull encased in both 4X2 rubber strips and a useful damage waiver prepayment kept everything relatively stress (if not discussion) free. Apparently the correct thing to do is to give one end or the other a slight shove when you set off or to tie the armoured bows in and motor the stern around until it is pointing where you want it to. However what is the fun in doing anything the easy way.

The river is truly stunning with narrow stretches widening into smaller and larger loughs (the Irish for lakes) all punctuated by the occasional manned lock and lifting bridge. The sometimes dense green of trees and shrubs on bank and shore would suddenly open up to reveal rolling countryside with hills or mountains in the distance, usually tinted purple by the damp air. Herons seemed to be on every bank while cormorants sat on most posts in the larger loughs. Curious cows stood in the shallows and surrounding fields in strangely mismatched multi-coloured groups clearly destined for the plate rather than the milking parlour.

Our plan, taken was to stop a selected village or town every night, but in the event we were so engrossed in pressing on down the river that by the end of day three we had sailed right past a fair bit of our itinery. This perhaps wasn’t really a problem,  the chart offered endless alternatives. One night we would stop in a quiet village like Shannon Bridge with its long quiet man street punctuated by numerous pubs and bars including Killeen’s, with the craic (live music and lively company) and an archway through to an ever open and well stocked village store.

Another night would find us somewhere like Athlone, a large and somewhat dour town. Its riverside castle is overshadowed by a larger church, itself dominated by an ugly modern hotel taller than both and covering more of the riverbank than both put together. In total contrast was Clonmacnois, a ruined monastery and legendary home of the dark age Saint Ciaran and his dun cow (don’t ask). Terryglass on day four, at the north end of Lough Derg was a picturesque marina for the evening with two pub restaurants, Headache well and Eye well.

Some of the rural architecture was a bit of a disappointment and jarringly out of place. Georgian buildings are mixed with ugly bungalow boxes, any artistic pretensions of the19^th and 20^th centuries having been totally overlooked. Very recent houses show more style but the rule now seems to be that if you pay an architect for a charming and unique contemporary home you might as well build another twenty just like it next door. The result of all this is that some villages looked somehow French both through their architecture and wide streets largely devoid of any signs of life.

As well as the rural river with its succession of towns and villages our course also took us through lakes including the truly huge loughs Ree and Derg. The boat had been designed for and built on the Norfolk Broads, but these vast expanses of water reminded me more of the Lake District or Scottish Lochs. While seemingly harmless, lakes are actually more dangerous places than the predictable waters of the Solent. Even the finest summer days can suddenly turn to fearsome storms with violent squalls and visibility down to a few feet. Strong winds can seem to leave lakes remarkably calm only for a slight increase to pile up short sharp waves serious enough to threaten any small craft let alone one built to crawl along Norfolk ditches.

Thus keeping a very sharp eye on the weather and grieving the lack of even an echo sounder we travelled for hours on what was in effect open water but really quite shallow. The chart instructed us to keep to the middle of the channel and keep well away from navigation marks, mainly posts painted black or red, the latter faded to dull orange with age. These were not really safe water marks having been in place so long the mainly soft mud could have moved many yards in any direction.

I had always thought of Ireland as a foreign country but the Irish people hardly as foreigners. In the event much of the countryside reminded me of England, albeit seen through the same green-tinted lens used for the film The Quiet Man with John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara. The biggest shock with the real Ireland was that everything you saw seems to have been paid for by EU grants and then bought up by German businessmen as the recession bit far deeper than it has in the UK. Similarly, open pockets in the good times had lead to restaurant meals costing half again what they would in London while ingredients in the shops were much the same price as in England. In contrast the bad times have lead to good deals for hiring boats of all types particularly for our Dutch and German neighbours. Victor and Robert, had been firmly warned to steer clear of Irish jokes and accents but in the event I caught myself trespassing dangerously close to the teutonic excesses of Basil Fawlty.

After a week afloat we moved on to Dublin and Stauntons on St Stephens Green by coach and bus (without Robert who had prior engagements in London). We found the city largely closed for election campaigning by some apparently local politician called O’Bama. We took in the sights weaving between barriers and wandering hoards of amiable country Garda, the Irish police, bussed in for the occasion, many of them clearly more lost than we were. Our base of operations became Bewley’s Tea Rooms in Grafton Street. This was remembered fondly by Hilary from when she lived and worked in Dublin many years ago. However it has now been restored to its former glory as a towering art nouveau edifice rising through tea shop floors festooned in stained glass and artworks of all kinds to be topped out by a small theatre and music venue.

Dublin itself and London seem like versions of the same city in slightly different parallel dimensions. Perhaps that’s just what they are as they grew up with first one and then the other setting trends in architecture and fashion for the other to copy it. Fortunately Dublin hasn’t got round to skyscrapers yet. The people were in the event very different,  the only stereotype being just how incredibly friendly and approachable everyone was.

We visited the castle, art galleries and museums the latter including the Dublin Jewish Museum, This was a former synagogue in a Georgian suburb given a new lease of life to preserve the traditions of a much diminished Jewish population. Here we learned of a paradox of Irish history with tens of thousands of Jewish refugees being welcomed to the Dublin of the 19^th century United Kingdom while only 25 were admitted to independent Eire during the 1930’s. In contrast around five thousand Irish servicemen deserted to fight the Nazis in British or American uniform. However when the men returned they were stripped of all rights to state benefits and pensions and the right to work for public bodies, effectively forcing almost all to emigrate. Note to Dublin government: you were the only European country not to treat such people as heroes. The current story is the government still refuses to grant a pardon to the dwindling band of survivors. In other respects modern Ireland is clearly willingly and determinedly egalitarian and seems set to remain so.

Hilary and I saw a waving Obama as he drove past, a dark man in a dark car with dark glass. Diana did much better queuing for a prime place in front of the stage where the charismatic president just topped the bill over Jedward and the nation’s sporting heroes. A nervous political machine chose a small venue and a pop concert warm up to ensure the great man was photographed in front of a capacity crowd. They needn’t have bothered, while 24,999 Irish people and Diana played sardines on College Green 75,000 others were herded in side streets for the duration. Promised giant TV screens failed to rise above the windblown crowds with nervous local health and safety officials overruling the equipment’s operators. Hilary and I watched the famous speech on the hotel TV. Victor headed away from the crowds to the coast at Howth to visit the marina and surrounding hills. Wind force 10 was experienced.

When it was time to leave we joined President Obama in a dash ahead of clouds of volcanic ash to Stanstead, although on Ryan Air FR288 rather than a rather more luxurious if apparently equally crowded Air Force One. I only wonder whether the American leader found time to visit the homes of his 15 English and Scottish great, great, great, grandparents as he had just the one genealogists had found in Ireland.

Having trodden in the footsteps of a queen and a president we share their sentiment: we will be going back to Ireland.

Nick Saul

More pictures available on the club’s website.

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

Latkas, pea soup and mulled wine were enjoyed in the winter sunshine aboard Steve Moss’s Yamma.  However, upon the fleet departing from Cowes for their home ports, an absolute pea souper of a freezing fog overtook them. Sailing in fog is always a challenging experience especially picking a route through the busy Solent shipping areas.  For all participants in the UK’s only Jewish Sailing Club’s mid-winter event, this was a Chanukah sail to remember !

Gill Woodbridge

Photos David Mark

Click here to view the rest of the photos from the HSSC Chanukah Sail

Blue sky, blue sea, light warm winds that is what real sailing is all about,  the tensions just eased out of our wracked north European bodies as we sank into the warm relaxing comfort of Mediterranean sailing.
While some angst about not being able to find a berth at the marina the first night the joy of just anchoring up in a bay for the night seemed a great alternative. Some swam in the deliciously warm water while others just drank the nectar of the gods and wiled away the time. The evening was further blessed by finding the taverna on the beach open for business – oh what joy.
After a great day sailing we arrived in the grand metropolis of Poros the next evening which provided sustenance to all those that craved the lights and pursuits of the big city. That craving was amply filled as bad weather kept us nailed to the quay for the following day.

The weather though grand some of the time did turn somewhat mixed for the rest of the week. The undoubted highlight of the flotilla for the Fineus crew  was the several occasions that we saw and played with the dolphins.

Pictures and video clips were taken and a very memorable experience was enjoyed communing with the natural world David Attenborough style. We unfortunately forfeited seeing the islands and towns of Spetses and Hydra which was a disappointment but anchoring in secluded bays with good company and warm sailing, even the bumpy bits, it was all a great success.

Many thanks to Victor for organising such an enjoyable trip within a very sensible budget. Well done Victor!

A.R.

Click here to view the video of Dolphins in the Saronic Gulf..     

And here too…

Click here to view the photo gallery