August Bank Holiday

(Cherbourg 5 months late)

We meant to go to Cherbourg at Easter but a westerly wind and a strong east-going tide was sufficient to make us change destination for St Vaast so Cherbourg was due a visit from us.

So, at 01.30 on Saturday morning, we dropped the lines. The navigator, having been shouted at to get out of her bunk, was sufficiently awake to notice that Pinta of Pembroke had already slipped her lines and was on her way. It was a trifle windy and the sea state was somewhat agitated so with a reef in the main and a few rolls in the genoa we continued on our way. Bob Newton-Cross was single-handed on Pinta but this was nothing to a blue water sailor who seems to spend half his time dangling on the end of his safety line in the chilly waters around Iceland. (See last newsletter.) 

This time Macavity was determined to make Cherbourg so, as the French coast drew closer, tidal vectors were checked regularly by the navigator and a course set accordingly (with some assistance from the GPS). This did not stop the skipper from shouting abuse and asking if she was “sure” and “why was that other boat going over there?” However, the navigator’s decision was vindicated when the west-going tide swept us smoothly towards the Cherbourg eastern entrance and into the outer harbour. The skipper took the credit, of course! As we scanned the visitors’ pontoons for a suitable berth we spotted another FSMBC boat, Lady Sefton, but she seemed to have no one on board.

We arrived about 3 o’clock, which was in good time for the skipper to have a nap and the navigator to have a shower.

Now cleansed and refreshed and wandering back to Macavity familiar faces were spotted. They were Kate O’Sullivan off Lady Sefton and also Rosy Whiter who promptly started squealing with delight and greeted us with as much gusto as one who had not seen civilisation for decades. They had set out 24hrs earlier and had been feeling lonely in the Cherbourg marina. Also on board were Terry Godfrey and Garry Flashman. They had left the vessel’s owner at home. (Why didn’t I think of doing that?)

Apparently, they had sailed in company with a vessel much grander than ourselves: the QE2 no less. Obviously the change of name from Whitely Rose to Lady Sefton means they now only associate with posh vessels. Garry, who has a friend on duty on board the QE2, contemplated calling up the ship  on RT but then thought better of it. However, the sight of such a grand vessel disappearing into the spectacular sunset was something to behold. (Apparently the QE2 didn't look bad either.)

We arranged to eat out. (Well, that’s what we come for isn’t it?)

As we wonder the streets of Cherbourg, taking in the ambience and seeking a suitable bistro we were, by now, wondering about the whereabouts of Pinta of Pembroke. Being only 25foot long and sailing single-handed we were not expecting her to arrive until 6 o’clock at the earliest. However we had sent a text message which Bob should have picked up as soon as he was within about 15 miles of the coast. No reply had been received. Another text was sent. No reply. We all hoped he was ok and wished him well. Foremost in everyone’s mind was the tragic death of the three yachtsmen who had set out from Bembridge the previous week. Their fate had been well publicised in the news that weekend and we all thought “there but for the grace of God…”.

A bistro was spotted. Did they have “Une table pour 6”? Yes they did but only outside. Was it warm enough to dine al fresco? Yes. The eating-place, Restaurant L’Antidote, was indeed a good find. It was hidden up a tiny alleyway near the Place Centrale and the terrace was surrounded by mellow stone walls which, when lit up at night gave a warm romantic glow creating a very cosy ambiance. The food was delicious, the wine was good and the company was friendly and cheerful. What more could one want? Well, reassuring news from Pinta would have been good.

Returning to Macavity at 2300 hrs BST a text message was received from Pinta. “Finally beat wind and tide at 2300 hrs.” Poor Bob had been sailing for 22 hours and Pinta was finally attached to the waiting pontoon. An epic journey indeed! The man must have been exhausted. At that stage of events it is a wonder to me how he managed to find his phone let alone send a coherent text message.

The following morning, over breakfast on Macavity, he told of the hours spent staring at Cap Levi light fighting against wind and tide. Now I remember why we diverted to St Vaast at Easter.

Terry arrived to borrow a jug, complain he had not been fed on L S and to ask if we had a spare bulb for their compass light. It transpired that for the whole of the outward trip the compass light had not worked and, during the hours of darkness, the lady members of the crew had to shine a torch at the compass so the helmsmen could steer a course. (I’m told that both Terry and Garry had always fanaticised about having two women holding a torch for them.) Macavity’s skipper found his multimeter, tested the “dead” bulb, pronounced it fit and well, and proceeded to check other bits of L S’s wiring. After the usual grunts and sucking of air between teeth the light was working. Macavity’s skipper now considered “hero of the day” by the ladies who would now be relieved of the job of torch-holding.  Yours truly will obviously not hear the end of this, as the hero demands that his halo be shined.

Exercise was needed. We remembered a walk taken over 10 years ago and decided to retread the path. Having done so I commented that the hills of Cherbourg had definitely got higher over the last decade. Someone was going around making all the steps and paths steeper. “Who is this guy?” I asked the members of Lady Sefton’s crew, who had enjoyed a much more relaxing day. “Anno Domini” came the reply. I think I knew that already.

Bob’s wife Karen arrived (in civilised fashion) on the fast cat. They partook of supper on Macavity. They brought wine, Macavity provided food, a really good night was had and the contents of a bottle of calvados disappeared.

On Monday a hurried trip to the bottle bank on the shore restored Macavity’s appearance to that of a boat rather than a drinking den.

There was an open invitation to a lunch of moules, cooked by Garry on Lady Sefton. This turned out to be a veritable feast of moules mariniere and bread with an assortment of pate and cold meat prepared by Kate for those abnormal beings who dislike seafood. Oh yes, a few bottles of chilled white wine were also consumed. (I now agree it was a good idea to put refrigeration on Macavity.) In fact, the sight of Rosy and Terry sipping warm G & Ts made one investigate whether the ice cubes in Macavity’s fridge were still in a frozen state. They were! They were fetched. We now had ice for the G & Ts. Life was worth living! So much so in fact that it was a hard job prizing ourselves away for Lady Sefton’s crew to get some shut-eye before setting out for home waters later that evening.

At 19.00 hrs Lady Sefton slipped her lines shouted her goodbyes and set off for Fareham.

Macavity having another week of sailing time on her hands set sail for Guernsey the following morning. The following Signet arrived, her inhabitants, Robin and Hilary Culverhouse, returning from their three month cruise to Spain.

A text message from Rosy told of Lady Sefton’s epic return trip. It read thus: “Glad to hear all ok. We had a very hairy passage. Severe storm, high wind, combined winds tide etc. meant we were blown off course and nearly made landfall @ Chichester! Eventually back on berth @ 17.40 tues eve. Very swift sailing. Thank goodness the main was reefed, or is that cowardice?! We had lightening crackling all round us and you heard it hiss when it hit the waves. Still great trip and lovely to see you all. Love Rosy.”

She asks if having the main reefed was “cowardice”! Is the woman insane or extremely brave? Nearly 23 hours, thunder & lightening, fighting wind and tide and she calls it a “great trip”! She must have some moral fibre but then, that’s cruising for you!

Pinta of Pembroke’s text spoke of a much easier trip. “….dptd Chbg 1700 Wed  arrive Wight 0730  Fareham at 1000…”  This sounds a more like it.