Circumnavigation of the Isle of Wight

This trip had been planned the previous year: A circumnavigation around the Isle of Wight in the company of three others: Gavin Millar, Keith Morris and Graham Cooke. These guys are way more experienced sailors and canoeists than me and I felt quite honoured to be invited on such an ambitious and daring trip. Gavin has circumnavigated the IoW previously, partly as a testing exercise for his circumnavigation attempt of the UK in a sailing canoe, details of which are found here.
The date was picked for midsummer when the tides and daylight hours would combine to enable us the best chance of getting round the Island by meeting the various tidal gates; of course the weather conditions on the day was the one thing we couldn't dictate. It was forecast to be South westerly F4 gusting to F5 on the Saturday. Although this wind strength was higher than we wished, we still felt it was within the envelope of do-ability.

My previous sailing this year had been in very similar conditions in the Medway estuary (F4-5+) so I felt reasonably confident. That experience had highlighted some issues of waves breaking over the bow and running into the boat. I often sail with a small battery powered pump to remove water. I felt using higher capacity pumps could enhance this. In the end I fitted 2 x 750 gph 12v pumps linked to a 7.5 ah battery. I could switch them on alternately depending on what tack I was on. Also a wave deflector was needed to prevent the waves running up my flat front deck. I didn’t get round to manufacturing this before the IoW trip. A fact that caused me issues later.

I set off from my work on Friday afternoon and drove down to the small village of Keyhaven. I did not know where I would find the others as I arrived quite late in the evening but my instincts proved correct when I found them in the nearest pub to the small harbour, pouring over maps and charts.

The plan was to set off that night and sail a short way out of the harbour and bivi on Hurst spit, ready to catch the last hours of the ebb tide the next morning at sunrise. Once out through the Needles Channel, we would then take advantage of the flood tide to push us east along the South and East coast of the Island. The next tidal gate was Bembridge point, where the ebb tide would hopefully help us with our westerly passage along the Solent.

Keith & Gavin setting up before I arrived.

I quickly assembled my canoe in the fading light, the others having already done so earlier, and swiftly edited down my camping and other gear to ensure it would fit. In a little while we were sailing in the darkness, in the gentle breeze of the warm night air, trying to find the correct route though the harbour and its mudflats under the dark but starry sky. After a few false turns and backtracking we soon came to just past Hurst Castle and beached on a thin pebble spit and bedded down in a pebbly hollow, sheltered from the increasingly strengthening South Westerly wind, with the stars blazing above.

We woke just before dawn, packed up our bivis and bags and prepared for the day ahead. As was predicted the wind has increased over night and was now blowing strongly from the South West.

Sunrise at Hurst spit

Morning on Hurst spit

Heading out to sea

We set off from Hurst spit encountering some rough water as we skirted the Traps tidal race. Taking on a bit of spray I turned on my, as yet untested, 12v dual 750 GHP pump system I had recently constructed. It is operated by a remote radio switch attached to my PFD in a waterproof bag: It ran for 30 seconds, then quit….

As we headed down to the Needles channel, conditions calmed enough for me to get at the watertight battery box which was wedged under my front air bag, opening it up I could see that a lead from the battery had come undone, I soon sorted that and the pump was working again and into the channel we went.

Somehow I found myself ahead of the group. I wasn’t too sure of the best line to take; I knew we were to keep to the channel for some distance to avoid the overfalls off the Needles, before turning east. As we progressed down the channel I could see large breaking waves to the left and right closing in, and then found myself running the biggest waves I’ve ever sailed in: The canoe leaping off the top of the crests and seemingly free falling down until slamming in the bottom of the waves, they must of been six to eight feet tall. Waves started breaking into the canoe, both 750 GPH pumps were running, but I found myself swamped to the gunnels. After trying to heave-to to bail, and trying to tack the swamped canoe to sail closer to the others and failing at both I decided to continue out of the race in the expectation that calmer conditions would be found at the end of the channel; which they were. The canoes still sailed well enough swamped, which was reassuring. What a ride; I didn’t feel afraid but exhilarated! I don't have any recollection of actually seeing the famous Needles or its lighthouse so concentrated on navigating the channel. I do remember a number of sailing yachts beating into the channel and feeling a little envious of the crew sitting on the windward side, their legs dangling high over the water: They must have thought us mad; I'm not sure they were wrong.

Flying towards the Needles Channel

I bailed out the canoe, reefed down and we regrouped, keeping close together and headed east on a bearing of 140 for the long run along the south side of the island. The idea was to sail offshore a good couple of miles to avoid the races found off St Catherine's point close to the headland.

; 

Wind speeds for Hurst(We were in the Needles channel around 6:00 am )

The following seas were as large as I have ever sailed in. I found it better not to look behind.

With tiny sail areas we were flying along. I felt slightly anxious in case the seas got larger. Occasionally bigger sets of waves, occasionally breaking, came through but thankfully the sea state didn’t increase. It took quite a lot of concentration to balance the boat in the large following seas. I sailed with the rudder stick and sheet in one hand with the other hand on the gunnel to steady myself. It reminded me of when I used to horse ride; the reins held in one hand and a slightly unpredictable beast beneath!  

Through the Needles Channel, time to head East.

A broad reach offshore along the south coast of the Isle of Wight

Large following seas

Passing St Catherine's Point

 As we passed St Catherine’s point even this far out I hit a whirlpool of swirling currents, which had me totally unbalanced for a second or two. As soon as we passed that point the character of the sea changed, becoming calmer. We headed Northeast on a more comfortable point of sail at a fast clip with the spring tide pushing us along. We reached the second tidal gate at Bembridge with an hour to spare; the conditions were even kinder on the east side of the Island. There was not much shipping about and we could take time to open a dry bag and grab a sandwich. I found that my sandwiches which I had placed at the top of the drybag had got soaked during the swamping. I was also worried that the sleeping bag, which I might have to use somewhere later that night, had taken a dosing too.

Calmer waters as we head up the East side of the Island.

Later, as we tracked round to a North West direction and came into the Solent, it got a lot busier. We were sailing closer to the wind and the Solent started to get more and more choppy; short, steep waves created by the wind over tide and less than a metre high were endlessly breaking over my canoe and sending an inch deep waterfall off the back of my fore deck into my canoe. My electric pump ran continuously, which checked the level of the deluge, until it inevitably ran out. It was onto the hand baler; a 2 litre scoop from an optimist, it wasn't really big enough. I had a ten litre bucket but that needed two hands to use, which meant I could only use it when I wasn't sailing. We were beating close to the shore which gave protection from the worst of the chop, but as we sailed past Ryde we had to sail out into the main channel to pass around its pier; this meant sailing into rougher water. Once we passed that, we sailed through the middle of a fleet of racing yachts on Ryde Road, their wash swamping my canoe. Over the radio we decided to land, necessitating a starboard tack: with my swamped canoe I could tack but not make headway. No matter how much I turned the canoe into the tack it was simply stalling, being pushed sideways or being pointed into the wind. Bailing couldn’t match the water coming in and even if I made a little progress, another wave or the wake from another passing yacht swamped me again and again. I kept trying to sail and bail, but wasn’t making progress. I started to run out of ideas: This was unlike the swamping experienced at the start of the trip: I couldn't seem to make the boat sail.

Eventually Gavin and the others sailed back from nearer the shoreline and with a bit of moral support I seemed to get my mojo back. I got the water level down with my bucket and slowly got the canoe sailing again toward the shoreline. I counted out 20 scoops with my small baler, rested for 60 seconds then 20 more scoops of my baler; I started to win the battle and the water level started to drop. The waves decreased as I got closer to the shore. The nightmare was over.

Landing on the Island :Considering the next steps

After landing for a bite to eat we debated our options. We had been sailing for about 10 hours. We discounted being able to get back to Hurst in the current conditions. The choices were:

·      Stay where we were.

·      Head across the Solent to Netley sailing club

·      Sail a mile up to Cowes and make our way up the Medina river 2 miles to The Folly Inn.

We knew the wind was predicted to drop off on Sunday and back to the North East. The best option would be to head across to Netley and camp overnight.

I can’t say I was too keen on this option given what I had just experienced, but we would be reaching rather than beating. I rearranged my gear to try and put as much weight into the rear of the canoe as possible and we set off. I was in the front. Although the canoe did sail better with the bows a little higher, as soon as we were clear of the lee of the land I began to get swamped again. I struggled on for a bit and then decided to turn around sailing back past the others. I felt a bit embarrassed that I had abruptly turn tail, not even waiting to discuss options with the others over the VHF. Maybe the canoe would have sailed OK fully swamped on a reach across to Southampton; truth was I’d had enough. I think it was the right decision. Later we found out the wind had increased to F6+ at this time.

Wind speed on Brambles bank (we attempted to cross  around 6 pm)

Getting into Cowes harbour and upriver to The Folly Inn was a bit fraught; what with the car ferries, the chain ferry, the lack of wind due to the town and the ebb tide we had to battle against, but at last we made it. We landed the canoes and had a pint while we negotiated camping in the car parking field next to the pub.

Landing at the Folly Inn

We made camp; I slung my tarp over my mast, which I laid between my canoe and an abandoned dinghy, got out of my drysuit and headed to the raucous pub. It was quite a bizarre contrast to the day’s sailing as the pub was packed. We got some supper whilst other people danced on the tables. My balance was certainly rocking and rolling but that was from the day’s sailing rather than the cheesy 70's disco music. We would have to get up again at around 3am to make as much use of the ebb tide to take us back to Keyhaven the next day and we knew the wind would be light. I was soon asleep in my sleeping bag, which had survived the swamping thankfully. And not even the disco, the dog barking and its drunken idiot owner shouting nearby, the cars leaving the pub, or the sound of a firework display in Cowes could keep me awake (much).

Setting off again after a few hours sleep

Paddle sailing down the Medina

We got up in darkness, packed away our tents and bags and headed back to the water. It was a delightful paddle sail the 2 miles down the river back to Cowes. Once out on the Solent the wind dropped completely for a while, the water millpond flat with no one else on it, save for a giant cruise liner. We all paddle sailed for a few hours, first in the main channel then crossing over to the mainland shore as the tide turned to avoid the strongest tidal currents. The wind did start to fill nicely from the North East; I hoisted my jib on the way as the wind increased allowing the paddles to be put away. It was a delightful day, the activity on the Solent increased as the morning wore on. We finally entered the mouth of Keyhaven lake and completed our circumnavigation.

All sails aloft on Sunday back Keyhaven along the Western Solent,

There is an excellent account of this trip by Graham here

And a brilliant video showing our trip by Keith here

This trip provoked debate among the participants about the conditions we encountered and the merits of the decision to undertake it.

Here are my thoughts:

• Obviously there is a debate as to whether I should have embarked on the trip in the first place given the conditions.
• I should have provided a wave deflector to the front of my canoe. That would have made a massive difference.
• Although I knew that I shouldn’t rely on battery operated pumps, effectively I did for a large part of the trip.
• My manual bailing tools were a 10 litre bucket and a 2 litre bailing scoop. The bucket couldn’t be used with one hand. The scoop could not beat the amount of water coming into the canoe. I was reluctant to let go of the controls and just concentrate on bailing.
• When I swamped in the Solent I had run out of ideas about how to clear my canoe and start sailing again.
• My bucket was tied in but my bailer was not and neither was I: could I have caught up with my canoe if we capsized? What would I have done without a bailer?

I think I may need a more seaworthy canoe...

Many of the photos and charts have been supplied by Keith Morris, Graham Cook and Gavin Millar. Thanks for their kind permission to reproduce them in this blog

March Medway Madness

Itching to go sailing again after a long winter break and determined to start the new season with my first ever overnight camping expedition,my eye was drawn to the tidal predictions for the Medway in March, looking for a weekend with a late afternoon high tide on a Saturday with a responding early morning hide on the Sunday. This would allow a put in at Queenborough on the Swale to catch the flood tide into the Medway and down the 7 or 8 miles to Darnet Island.
The weekend of the 14th/15th seemed to fit the bill nicely, high tide on that Saturday would be at ?pm which would allow a leisurely sail to Darnet and then a early morning start on the Sunday to catch the ebb tide back, and surely the weather would be good, it's Spring after all isn't it? I arranged to meet up with Chris Taylor, another member of the OCSG for the trip and agreed to meet at 11.30 at hte slipway in Queenborough.

The first sail of the season or after a long break should, in my mind , be a relaxing affair, with time to make mental check lists of things to bring, dust down examine, insuring that all is were it was left when stored the autumn before and everything still works and is in good order. Envitably things don't work out quite how you plan so I turned up an hour later then agreed with Chris well underway in assembling his canoe on the slipway. The wind conditions were far from ideal, there was a cold North Easterly blowing a strong F5 into F6 at times. I was a bit nervous, it was marginal conditions:If I was alone I doubt I would of put out to be honest. However I loaded my canoe with camping gear, food and firewood, reefed the sail substantially and set out to beat up the Swale against the incoming tide to get onto the Medway.The conditions at the mouth of the Swale were quite rough, the North Easterly meant there was quite a reach for the waves to pick up, being blown across the Thame Estuary from Essex  ight into the mouth of the Medway. At this point I realised although I had taken my small battery operated pump I hadn't set it up  and it was sitting in one of my drybags. I also realised I'd forgotten to bring any charts of the estuary. Shooting into the Medway with the wind and tide on our backs was an exhilarating but at times slightly fearful experience.Even though the flood tide was quite young I decided that the best route to Darnet Island would be off the main channel and via Stangate creek, sailing behind Burntwick Island and in its lee across Bishops Ooze and into South Yanlet Creek.

Stangate Creek

Unfortunately the tide was not in sufficiently to make enough depth to sail in, and without the charts it was impossible to establish exactly where the deeper creeks were.We briefly landed on a sand bar and  eventually decided to head back to the main channel and approach the island from the North.

Back in the main Channel we were once again exposed to an extended fetch which increased the wave size. Before too long we had wizzed past the large navigation markers that were putting up impressive bow wave, and turned the corner around the Island into is shelter and landed on its muddy shore and stated to make camp.

Arriving at the island

We camped on the south western side of the island Sheltered from the strong wind by the large fort, which we explored once camp had been made.

Exploring the fort

Soon the sun started to set and we made a camp fire.That was interesting!we discovered that using white petrol as an accelerant can at times be problematic on a small, island covered in last year's dried out grass and bush growth. 

However control was reestablished and food was cooked and bottles were opened.The lights from nearby Medway towns illuminated the clouds.My thoughts turned to the return tomorrow morning.The wind was predicted to remain the same strength.This time we would be sail with the wind over tide.We could sail most of the way back in the southern side of the estuary which would benefit from the lee of the numerous islands 

 

Sunset campfire

On Sunday we made an early start to break camp in order to catch the tide, the wind was as strong as ever.We departed heading east south of the Island following the buoys marking South Yantlet Creek. tacking into the waves was difficult and once again the lack of a wave deflector on my deck meant that my small pump could not keep up with the ingress of water and we needed to stop and bail numerous times.We crossed Bishop Ooze, Half acre Creek and Ham Ooze after three or four miles we started to benefit from being in the lee of Greenbourgh Marshes.

 I had wanted to pass below this and round Slaughterhouse point to connect up with the bottom of Stangate creek but once again the lack of any charts made it difficult and this time we were sailing into shallows on a falling tide. We decided not to risk  being stuck in miles of mud for the rest of the day and instead reached up on the west side of Slayhills marshes until we reached the entrance to Sharfleet creek which would lead on to the top end of Stangate.

At this point Chris got ahead of me and set off the wrong way down Stangate back towards Slaughterhouse point. For some reason I couldn't reach him on  the VHF , although I could hear him calling me.  I hung around at the top end of the creek until he decided to come back. The next section was the part I had been most concerned about:turning out onto the Medway estuary and beating up to the Swale with the wind over tide. Chris had  earlier  suggested that we crossed the estuary to the North shore to take advantage of the lee it provided, however the largest waves were in the middle of the estuary in the main channel so tacking along the southern side between the channel and the shore of Chetney marsh was OK:It wasn't as bad as I had feared, we attempted to round the corner of Deadman's Island to enter the Swale, again without charts we soon found ourselves running aground.With the ever dropping tide a swift retreat was needed to head well over to the Sheppy side of the Swale before we could safely run up the Swale back to the Slip at Queenborough with a large following sea. 

 Back at Queenborough slip

While packing up the canoe the landlady of the Pub at Queenborough arrived and invited us in to have a coffee, what a diamond!