More cloud observations, pontoons and drills

On Friday afternoon, we loaded up and set off, first to obtain water from Chichester pontoon, then, because we felt that we had berthed nicely there, we decided to try Itchenor.
There was an ebbing tide and wind against it, so we circled a few times before achieving an almost perfect docking. It was a stunning evening, and the inflatable was pressed into service to seek out a pub. Itchenor village itself is the centre of "Chapland" and we weren't too impressed, but the sailing club on the waterfront welcomes yachtsmen ( and their partners, presumably??) and looked more picturesque, if not more PC.

Following us back to our overnight pontoon was a tiny sailboat we had noticed on the quay with dollies and cartons of juice loaded into it. The occupants were two dads and their small daughters, the dads spread a tarp over the boom and slept in the cockpit. They made us feel we basked in the lap of luxury!

Early start, another attempt to cross the Solent.
This time we thought Langstone Harbour was a possible destination. I was using the GPS and successfully  putting in tentative waypoints. Calculating wind direction and tides, readjusting at the West Pole Beacon, finding a more comfortable bearing it actually only took 40 minutes from the Chichester Fairway beacon to Langstone Fairway.

We were now trained to look for cirrus clouds and to observe the "crossed winds rule"; if the streaks of the clouds run parallel to the direction of the wind, no immediate change is expected.

We were uninspired by Langstone Harbour, the only anchorage being close to roads, also Tom Cunliffe's words in The Channel Pilot referring to the tidal current "anyone unfortunate enough to fall from a moored yacht during the height of the ebb on dark night could well be lost" rather put us off!

Unable to claim a landfall, at least we had arrived somewhere other than Chichester Harbour. We turned round and went home again.

Emsworth visitor's pontoon was our Saturday night stop, the place was deserted, a beautiful evening sky blooming, a sudden decision to have a BBQ. John lept into the inflatable and in minutes was  puttering off to the Town Quay to find meat in the Co-op. It was an anxious wait for me, partly because the "one-match" BBQ kit needed extra kindling and attention, but mainly because our previous experience of badly timing the tide here led to nearly getting caught on a mud bank and the outboard packing up. So in the deepening gloom, I was first relieved, and then worried to see a tiny figure rowing out.

The meal was actually not very nice, but the adrenaline made it all worth it! We turned up the music and had a party for two on the pontoon. Then we got the cushions out and slept there. It was really noisy with the water sloshing, the ropes groaning, the pontoon creaking as it lifted and fell with the tide.

On Sunday, while we still had the place to ourselves, we took the opportunity to do lots of berthing practice.
Here is a photographic representation of the drill:
Leaving a berth with tide and wind astern, (and an imaginary yacht you don't want to bash in front of you).

1)protect the dockside stern with plenty of fenders

2)attach a stern spring to a pontoon cleat midships, ready to slip


3) let off the bow line and stern line, put boat into reverse against the wind and the bow will swing out,

4) "stop taking photos and get on the bloody boat" !

We also did some MOB drills, (that's Man Over Board, you throw in some fenders to act as a person and then manoeuvre the boat to get them back).

We were very glad we hadn't stayed in Langstone as the weather on Sunday deteriorated and by the afternoon, we were among a very few reefed up yachts and windsurfers, slogging across the tide back towards  Dell Quay.