Sea Dogs

Now then dear reader (if there is one) you might be wondering how we go from a yomp around the hills of the Lake District and arrive at a yacht in St Hellier, Jersey. Pull up a sand bag and I will begin....

It all starts with a friend who had bought a yacht just before lock down and it sat waiting collection since. With the easing of some restrictions we were soon both in an air b and b in Portsmouth to catch the early doors ferry. Naturally this wasnt as straight forward as it seemed, we travelled by train and collected a bee hive en route. Please, just don't ask. 

Sparrow's fart in glorious sun shine we arrived at Portsmouth to find the fan belt had broken on the ship so please wait quietly outside in the heat as Covid 19 juice was running through the terminal. 

A consequence of lock down and all that jazz is that you pretty much have places to yourself. 

The short version is the ferry was proper broke and even using the captains tights as a spare fan belt did'nt fix it so the ferry company put us in a taxi to Poole where we were abandoned in a hotel with no staff and told to stay there until the next day when we would be allowed on the super fast ferry to St Hellier. 

Now 24 hours behind and yours truly on a strict time limit due to another adventure just on the horizon the sight of a working ferry was a joy to behold. One slight hic up at customs, anything to declare lane, no guns, flares, gas, etc etc well pretty much all of the above mate except explosives. Sensing that we were yachtsmen kitted out for the apocalypse rather than terrorists they let us on board with our arsenal of potentially lethal items in the hold. 

We are here, the marina, 5th boat on the left wooo hooo.

We kitted the boat out and stocked up on food we might like, had a beer, watched the sun set and prepped ourselves for a 5am start to sail the 380 or so miles back across the busiest shipping lane in the world in iffy weather  on a boat that had not been at sea for 12 months during a global pandemic. What could possibly go wrong?

Skipper was happy, seriously this is his happy face, as we set sail 6am, the first hour spent faffing round trying to get the boat out of the harbour.

Soon we were in open water.

I took charge of the cooking on the hi tech anti spill cooking machine.

Hours passed, so did many tankers and container ships, and so at the end of the first day the sun set on the starboard bow as we headed to Falmouth. 

No sleep until Falmouth but the perks were following the comet using it as a navigation aid and the amazing view of the Milky Way.

Soon (ahem) the sun rose over the starboard stern, 

the sea a funny colour (that's poetry) and a bit calmer than at 3am when the waves were so big they threatened to tip me over the side. 

Falmouth hove to.

One of the many passenger ships tied up due to lack of healthy passengers. 

After the briefest of stops and one hours sleep I look quite happy steering a course for Lands End.

Still happy but thoughtful.

Lands End, honest, the wind suddenly picked up and as it was blowing in the wrong direction we had to motor in ever growing waves. 

I managed to cook a delicious meal and promptly dropped it on the deck due to the unruly nature of the waves.

And so we continued, Lands End head north and you'll hit Milford Haven. Eventually. The sun set on the port side.

Much steering and watching dolphins in the dark later the sun began to rise on the starboard side

revealing a glorious morning

and exceptional photo opportunities. 

Compulsory selfie with the skipper, still happy. 

We were joined by around 200 dolphins and as the sea was flat calm I was able to get to the pointy bit at the front an take their pictures. 

Happy face.

Here we have St Annes just off the Welsh Coast 

and the entrance to Milford.

Blessed with beautiful weather we picked a route avoiding all solid objects 

navigating the perils of the sea loch entrance to the harbour and soon we were home as in soon being 52 hours with 3 hours sleep.

On reflection, how much fun was it, a massive amount. My first open sea sail since my accident in 2007 meant I had to leave the Navy Reserves and my first trip around Lands End. Do I want to go again. Oh yes please.

So I bid farewell to the skipper and made sure he knew I was available for any trip involving Iceland.

 Then I wandered off to collect my car and head back to reality pausing only to buy a lottery ticket in the vain hope of being able to afford this, the skippers spare boat.