Check out how many people are on this motorbike!

As I said, you’ve never really been sailing until you’re hove to in the Bristol Channel main shipping lane at night in a Gale force 17 wind with no lights on because the drunken skipper sheltering below wants to conserve battery power and you’re alone on deck when a massive oil tanker rears out of nowhere and shines its spotlight on you and sounds an alarmingly loud horn … blah …blah … blah.

The fact is, if there’s so much as a tremor of wind when I’m afloat, I’m in the queue for being helicoptered out.

We reached Port Solent at 7.30 having missed the turn off the a27. Our crewmates were already there. Maggie, Paul and our skipper, Tim. As we’d arrived late, the others got first pick of quarters. Both aft cabins were taken and the skipper nabbed the fore cabin as well. Chris and I were left with the main cabin.

Maggie, it seems, had already been on a huge 2-month long trip in a similar sized yacht, but had decided to get the qualifications with a view to buying her own boat. Paul on the other hand, was 60-odd and had been given the course as a present from his son and wasn’t that excited about doing it. in the end though, he enjoyed it. Some of our enthusiasm rubbed off i think!

There were 2 gale warnings in force on the first morning and there continued to be 2 or 3 each morning the whole time. Chris and I were extremely happy, as we had feared it might be calm and dull.

Much quality sailing in force 8 winds was had. Most of the time we stuck to the Solent but at one point we went past the Isle of Wight. If we’d gone out much further, it would have been too much for our Jeanneau Odyssey 35 – it struggled in heavy winds.

Starting in Port Solent we stopped in a different marina each night.

Port Solent -> Folly Inn -> Hamble

On the morning we left Hamble, Chris whistled on board whereupon Maggie informed us that it was bad luck. Like shooting an albatross or something. Chris and I promptly whistled “the great escape” – laughing in the face of danger you might say.

Later that day, mid pm, I was helming. Damned well, if I say so myself;-). Winds were strong, possible force 7 maybe eight. We were close hauled to the wind and needed to tack. We did and the bow forestay broke (bit holding the jib to the deck) and the jib flapped around dangerously. A couple of us manned the winches and hauled in on the jib sheets, but couldn’t get it under control. I turned the yacht in to the wind and the skipper headed up to the main mast and was in the process of bringing down the main sail when the secondary forestay broke.

The mast then toppled over backwards, crashing down on the cockpit. it fell to the left of me, Chris and Paul, but fell right on top of Maggie. Luckily the cockpit had raised sides and Maggie was quick enough to duck down in to a ball and emerged unscathed. Tim, the skipper, on the other hand got the foot of the mast in between his legs.

For a while we battled with the raging seas to secure the mast and try and winch it on deck. After a while we heard on the radio, a yacht was calling the coastguard, speaking about a dismasted yacht in distress. So engrossed were we that we didn’t notice there were three yachts circling us. We grabbed the radio and a called in. Tim then passed me the radio and went back to securing the mast.

The coastguard then called again.

“Yacht Teal, yacht Teal. This is Solent Coastguard. Over.”

So naturally, I reply, “Solent coastguard, Solent coastguard, this is Yacht Teal. Over.”

They ask to confirm our destination and home port, so I do, but then they ask to confirm that our length is 10 metres.

Forgetting that 10 metres is more or less 35 ft I reply. “Solent coastguard, this is yacht Teal. That is incorrect, our length is 35ft.”

There was a long pause, presumably to give then time to stop laughing. And told us to stand by and monitor this channel.

So I replied, “Roger. Out”

Soon after that the lifeboat arrived and after they had secured the mast, we were towed to Lymington, our actual destination.

We headed to the pub and got fairly drunk on rum, suchlike and got back to the boat to find that Sunsail had brought another boat for us to use and took the other one back to Port Solent, so we didn’t lose much sailing time.

The following morning, Chris whistled again by mistake, then later I did, and then Maggie did. Triple badness!

I was helming again, making good progress towards Cowes, when all of a sudden the tides turned against us and we found ourselves going backwards, towards some anchored ships. We tried to switch on the engine but discovered that its coolant system wasn’t working. (It pumps seawater to cool itself.) Luckily we got it working before having to get a tow from someone or having the call the lifeguards out again!

The night sail was good fun too. Actually not too hard as there were loads of bouys and lights to warn you of dangers and guide you in to channels.

We travelled about 130 miles in the end. Well past the 100mile entry requirement for the Day Skipper. Bring it on I say!:-D

swab! i’ll keel-haul ye quick as ye blinks! avast!

Cap’n Barbossa’s side kick with the poppie out eyeball more like fiend! I shall have ye a walking the plank by order of the Royal Navy.

evast me hearties! arrr!
just tried on my rather splendid pirate costume for an upcoming birthday celebration. i am pleased to say that i look the very image of cap’n jack sparrow!

may post some pictures at a later date.