THE TRIP TO CARENTAN THAT NEVER WAS.
(OR THE RAMBLINGS OF A GRUMPY OLD WOMAN)
It blew, it rained, then it blew some more. Is this the end of May? 
Is this summer?Is this global warming? Has someone switched off the Gulf Stream? Something has happened to our weather and I, for one, don’t like it whatever it is. Can we all stop producing CO2 this instant. That means stopping breathing – ah, slight problem with that one. Ok engine use to be kept to a minimum. No problem there. Plenty of wind out here, in fact, so much so that Signet was sailing along quite happily despite being reefed down to a pocket-handkerchief. This was in the relative shelter of Southampton water.
Mike phoned up to say he was about half an hour behind us and was warm and dry in his wheelhouse.
Being “not so warm and dry” in an open cockpit I managed to restrain myself from calling him a smug so and so.
Could we, with a bit of imagination, think we were in the Carentan canal? Not after spotting the QE2 and the Oriana on their berths we couldn’t. Mumbled comments were heard from our crew (sorry, I meant passenger, Alan Ferris) that the service and comfort in the stern cabin on Macavity did not come up to the standards of those in the liners on our starboard side. I think I heard our skipper utter something about the fares paid being nowhere near that on the QE2 either. I know I had thoughts of making Alan take up immediate occupancy on the aforementioned liner, only he would have to swim for it there and then. Mmm! Happy thoughts!
Marchwood Sailing Club pontoon came into sight. Mistral had just arrived, Signet was coming alongside and we were just picking our spot when a text came through to say that Pinta of Pembroke had returned to her mooring. Her skipper and crew were warm and dry at home. Some people are blessed good sense; others go sailing.
Saturday’s hangover was blown away by a sail down Southampton Water, across the Solent and up the Medina to Newport. It was a lot calmer than the previous day. Macavity’s breakfast of bacon and eggs in pitta bread was duly served up on the way. (Serving it in pitta bread saves washing up. They eat the plates.) It was a cracking sail with one reef in the main and few turns in the foresail.
On entering Cowes we were hailed by a harbour launch and told to put our engine on. We were informed that this was compulsory. This was news to us but we complied anyway. Was I actually too grumpy to argue the case? I can’t recall seeing this bylaw written down anywhere. Can you?
Mike Grant also got a ticking off for navigating amongst the buoys instead of using the main channel. So be warned, if you are sailing into Cowes, be on your best behaviour or you will get your wrists slapped.
Nice trip up the Medina. It could just be the Carentan canal.
Signet dried out happily against the wall in Newport although she had a leg out just in case. Macavity and Sandiamo dried out on the pontoon.
Sunday. Where to? It is forecasting strong winds for Monday so we should aim to be as close to home as possible. Signet was heading for home to get ready for their long summer cruise starting the following weekend and was last seen heading down the Medina, crew posing prettily on deck. 
Macavity and Sandiamo headed for Wooton. Mistral didn’t fancy the mud of Wooton or the sand of Ryde (afraid of stones up the bottom) so they stayed put in the marina. Things were obviously too lively for the stag do so Gair na Mara also headed for home. Terry was heard to mention that he was actually missing his good wife, Bev but we were told not to tell her this. (Did you get that bit Bev? He missed you!) Anyway Bev, on her own, would have been livelier than that lot put together. Sandiamo, being a lifting keeler, got going earlier than Macavity and poked her nose into Wooton only to find it full and so, diverted to Ryde. Macavity followed suit. On entering Ryde we thought we were at Fareham. There was Chantersleuer, Sualocin, Folie-a-Deux, Mariette, Sapphire, Moonshadow, Blue Max and probably many others. They had come over for lunch.
Gair na Mara and Mistral fancied a night in a marina and went for Island Harbour. We seem to have a breed of lifting keelers that are afraid to dry out! Still it gave Mistral’s crew good exercise walking up to Newport to join us for a meal. The weather was too damp for the stag do and they stayed local. We dined well at the Bargeman’s Rest. Les and his crew had the walk back to Island Harbour to sober them up.
Had we known we would have made more haste and gate-crashed. Anyway, they all cleared out with the tide and made for home. Was it something we said? Was the deodorant not working? We had changed our socks, honestly!
We decided to hit town. Yes, I know the shops were now closed as it was a Sunday but that is the only time my skipper lets me go shopping. He recons it’s cheaper that way. Having noted all the eating places in town we made our way back. Noticing the Ryde Castle Hotel just opposite the marina our crew decided that he’d had enough exercise for one day and concluded that this will be our eating place of choice. After a quick nap, wash and a brush up we go with our crew’s suggestion and, indeed, it did us proud. Good food at bar meal prices in a wonderful setting and brilliant service. We had to restrain our crew as he had ideas of running away with the waitress. Mind you the restaurant prices were probably twice the bar meal prices but we were happy in the bar.
We ended the evening again on Sandiamo.
Monday. Blowing a hooley from the NW so we were glad not to be beating into it all the way back from Carentan. Ryde to Fareham seemed about the right distance in those conditions.
After the event a certain participant sent an email complaining that the organiser should have arranged the trip on the following weekend because the weather was better and we could have made Carentan and he would not have had to worry about drying out and getting stones up his bottom. I had to point out that the organiser takes no responsibility for arranging sunshine and F4-5 on the beam and the powers that be do not take kindly to me trying to change the date of a national bank holiday especially one that coincides with the French holiday on Ascension Day.
That’s the end of my grumpy rant for the moment. Stand by for August Bank Holiday cruise. We must have better weather for that, surely!
Photos courtesy of Karen Knowles, Robin Culverhouse and myself
Not so good behaviour at Marchwood
Good behaviour at Marchwood
On Macavity nobody was warm and dry.
No one had heard from the “stag do” on Gair na Mara. Had they found a pub or lap dancing club to live it up in.? Were they safely tied up in harbour devouring the contents of Terry’s drinks cabinet? Had they met up with a boat-load of fun-loving women? Had they heck! There they were, just as wet and bedraggled as the rest of us, getting their fenders out.
The plan on Macavity was to get dry, relax over a beer or two and plan for a meal on board having invited Mike Grant to join us.
Macavity's lot not
very warm and dry
John Fagot poses for
The camera
After supper we all invaded Marchwood Sailing Club for refreshments. I expected riotous behaviour from Gair na Mara’s crew but, despite goading from Hilary Culverhouse and the odd jibe from myself they remained remarkably restrained. Hilary and I have come to the conclusion that stag dos are not what they used to be. Macavity’s lot were arm twisted (not that it took a lot of twisting) to finish the night by sampling Sandiamo’s scotch.
Sandiamo arrived, the skipper warm and dry. In fact, he admitted to putting his sails away as it was too much trouble and used the motor instead. What was that I said about CO2 emissions and weather changes?
That afternoon I noticed that on Signet the crew, John Fagot, was doing the washing up and on Mistral the crew, Peter Williams, was also washing up. On Macavity the crew, Alan Ferris, was snoring on the port side berth with yours truly doing the washing up. Where did I go wrong? (Answers on a postcard……..)