Wednnesday 23rd July. Flight KM146 made an almost perfect landing at Manchester Airport; the crew of Grey Goose arriving with a day to spare before the epic voyage was due to commence. Having been conditioned to hot sun, 35 degrees C, warm seas, 24 degrees C, not to mention the luxury of a four star hotel, a cruise in a small boat round Anglesey didn't seem all that alluring.
Thursday we cut the grass and cut back some of the triffids encroaching on the house and lawn, couldn't possibly leave them for another fortnight. Automatic watering system had taken care of the hanging baskets and boxes. Bought provisions for initial part of cruise.
Friday. Finished packing and got up to the marina just in time to cast off and join the queue for locking down. Jaja and Suzie were with us at this stage, Jaja having a few moment helming the boat, much to his delight, apparently he couldn't stop talking about it all night. Over two hours later we entered the lock with two other boats, who escape me at the moment. Sadly Suzie and Jaja had to leave before this took place, bedtime.
We rafted alongside Toggenberg. Pebbles and Salty Fiddler, who'd come in from the slip, rafted alongside us with Curlew who'd come off her mooring. Across the dock were Weasel, Rice Pudding and ?
We all retired to the clubhouse full of excitement before returning to turn in for the night.
Saturday 26th July 2003, Grey Goose with Captain and owner Brian Roberts, alias Curruthers, and crew Michael Swarbrick aboard was the last to leave the dock, Glasson Dock. John Broadhead waved goodbye to us from the club anchor/memorial seat base, Norman said over the radio that John was going to go to Piel go down to Conwy tomorrow. We motored out, the wind promising to be on the nose! Rolean, who had spent the night on the jetty, just managed to get afloat as the first boats left the dock.
She caught up the leading boats and with Phoenix ahead, Weasel on one side, Drumlin on the other, set the pace As Grey Goose arrived abreast of the lighthouse, Abbey Light, Sea Dancer was, surprisingly, aground way over to starboard, actually on the right of us, starboard is a later correction! Rice Pudding, Curlew and Esmerelda were standing by, joined by us, Grey Goose. Curlew, who thought it was Moonshine at first, offered to try and tow her off but it was Esmerelda that claimed the prize but took Sea Dancer's warp and therefore didn't claim salvage. Grey Goose, fin-keeled couldn't get near. After some shinanicking Esmerelda gallantly pulled her free, much to everyone's relief as no one wanted to see Sea Dancer left behind. We were on our way again. There were some amusing comments on the radio from boats that were well down the channel: "Someone's aground", "It must be one of the keel boats?"
1125 hours, we, Grey Goose, and the fleet are in the Lune Deeps. Grey Goose hoisted her mainsail with two reefs to try and steady her whilst motoring in the choppy seas. It was not a bad day, lots of cloud; we'd had a few showers in the dock earlier.
1430 hours Weasel talking to Toggenberg. Weasel has fuel supply problems, blockage? Dirt? Filter?
1445 hours. Reefs shaken out of main and Genoa fully set. Motor off and sailing at last. The cloud has thinned and there is lots of blue sky and we've got sunshine.
Toggenberg, Curlew and Pebbles are standing by Weasel. Weasel optimistic about sorting problems soon. Grey Goose sailing along happily close hauled, doing four knots. We'd been doing six knots under engine.
It's a lovely sight to see all the Glasson Boats with their sails set and the sun glistening on the water.
1500 hours, Grey Goose talking to Alden Too, they are sailing too. Alan's thrilled that he's got his sails up and sailing at last, he said he'd found some white things in bags.
1535 hours motor on. Large ferry on port bow. Radio comes alive: "Yacht Cameo, Yacht Cameo this is Yacht Pebbles, Yacht Pebbles over" … "A little problem Dave, I've got a core plug gone, ha ha, another casualty I'm afraid. There's no chance of a tow is there?" … "Thank you Dave, thank you. Out" Grey Goose's skipper says I wonder whether we should offer them a tow? 1540 hours. Toggenberg is towing Weasel, as reported by Moonshine
1600 hours On course, Skipper trying to sleep or sleeping, clouds building up in the east, gloomy in front to the south, clear to the west, wind's dropped more or less, the sea is dropping. You can see the Welsh hills quite clearly now. Pebbles is being towed by Cameo, there's a boat ahead that we're creeping up on. It's very comfortable in the wheelhouse sat with the sun coming through the glass warming me, in deck shoes and sweatshirt, no oilies no boots very good. We've furled the Genoa, still got the main up. Slack water now.
I had a sobering thought. Some years ago, 1983 probably, when we were in Holyhead harbour on a mooring, a rubber dinghy was buzzing past and we shouted are you from Glasson. They were, Denys Harland and Alan Welbank, they'd just arrived having had a rough passage from Ireland. We were Brian, Ernie and I on Ernie's boat, Sheranta B. They're all dead now except Brian and me - cancer victims.
1625 hours Weasel's just told Toggenberg that he's not going to be able to sort out the problem. He can't get a spanner on it and it looks like he's going to have to wait until he gets in dock somewhere.
There seems to be lots of ironwork in the sea, there's structures everywhere. Large ferry coming from the west, looks like it's going to cross our bow, or collide with us. Text from Alex - she's got the picture of Grey Goose and doesn't think she'll ever be able to come to sea in a small boat, not that I'll ever be able to afford a boat as big as the LM30.
Looks a bit gloomy ahead, blue sky way to the west, you can still see the hills but it looks like rain ahead.
Toggenberg now destined for Beaumaris because of difficulties with Conwy Channel if they arrive late.
Drumlin is on our right; to the left are Salty Fiddler, Alden Too and a boat, which turned out to be Snowhill Maiden. Way ahead is Rice Pudding VIII and another boat, which was later identified as Phoenix. Another large ferry on our right whose wash is a wave half it's own superstructure height, very dramatic. Wind seems to have dropped completely and it's raining.
1730 hours no wind sea oily smooth but undulating.
1800 hours conversations going on on the radio. Dennis has managed to change his filter, cleaned his separator but the engine still won't run. Thinks it might be fuel lift pump.
1845 hours I left the tap turned on in the shower and when Brian switched the water pump on water over flowed from the wash basin and is flooding the bilges. I'd also inadvertently kicked the switch to the holding tank pump when I was swanning in the wheelhouse and it was pumping against the closed outlet valve! I'm in disgrace. Everything seems to be all right.
Alden Too has been in contact with Conwy Marina and they have a nightshift on and will raft their workboat alongside Weasel and bring her into the marina.
1940 hours Rice Pudding leading the fleet with Phoenix nearby as we approach the Conwy Fairway Buoy, spherical, red and white quarters. Grey Goose next followed by Alden Too, Drumlin and Snowhill Maiden.
Rice Pudding cut off 'the corner', Phoenix ploughed on, apparently to the wrong buoy but we eventually proceeded down the channel without any difficulty, it was quite light.
2130 hours Rice Pudding entered the marina first closely followed by Phoenix, then Grey Goose, four or five behind. We radioed in and were allocated berth E5. I put the fenders out, a little too high as it turned out, as Brian said they were, Warps fastened on, I leapt ashore as we reached the berth but we hadn't flicked the fenders into place, they'd been fastened on lying on deck awaiting entry.
Drumlin entered the marina closely followed by Rolean who had taken the direct route from North Hamilton Gas Field to the Fairway Buoy, the rest of us having gone first towards the West Constable Cardinal Mark.
2240 hours, approximately, Toggenberg and Weasel arrived greeted by a spectacular firework display on the Deganwy side of the river. The marina tender went out, with Norman as crew, and secured Weasel alongside and took her to her berth.
Jeff had sorted Pebbles out to some extent, he offered to cast off Cameo but Dave said not to, why risk anything. However they cast off near the entrance and Pebbles motored in under her own steam.
Brian cooked a meal, a vegetable stew with a cut up salami sausage, which he said had a warning on it "Do not use for anal or vaginal sex because the skin could cause some harm". You can never tell when Brian's telling the truth because he tells so many obscure stories and uses so many strange words, see title for examples. It was a lovely evening the sky was clear and you could see the stars.
Sunday 27th July, 0012 hours. Alden Too's crew, Alan, skipper, Chris and Ged arrived for drinks. They left some time later, I having gone asleep at the table.
The fleet that had arrived in Conwy was:
Alden Too - Alan Fleetwood, Chris Bussy & Gerald (Ged)
Cameo - Dave Crowther & Gary Foster Curlew - John Glynn, to be
joined by Gina later
Drumlin - Andy & Lorna MaNab
Esmerelda - Dave Burton & Dermott Lapin
Grey Goose - Brian Roberts & Michael Swarbrick, to be joined later
by Sue
Moonshine - Peter, Ann, Daniel & Jennifer Johnson
Pebbles - Jeff & Linda Walker
Phoenix - Colin & Karen Lambert
Rice Pudding - Norman Whewell & John Arnside with Elizabeth part
time
Rolean - Derek Todd
Salty Fiddler - Tom & Irene Riley
Sea Dancer - Jim Cruise, Helen, David & Vicky Bradley
Snowhill Maiden - Clive Nuttall & later joined by their wives
Suzi - Ian, Barbara, David, Rebecca & Jessica Sharples
Toggenberg - David & Christine Booth and John Bacon to be joined
later by Vicky & partner
Weasel - Dennis Marsden & John Critchley
Sarum had been unable to get a crew so didn't sail.
Sunday Morning, well the time when most people were awake, having gone to bed at a decent time.
Showered early in Conwy's excellent facilities.
Alex, Lorne of Naze, arrived early by car, he was taking Norman's daughter, Elizabeth, back after the weekend. Elizabeth had sailed down from Glasson with Rice Pudding.
It was strange wandering round the marina, I'd never before seen so many people and boats that I knew all in one place.
1000 hours. Captains' meeting. I was a bit late and they wound Brian and I up by voting to leave at 1100 hours and sail round the Skerries. I objected strongly and they all laughed. The plan which was eventually decide upon was that we'd all leave tomorrow, Monday, and sail to Red Wharf Bay, staying there for a couple of days. Grey Goose can't enter the moorings at Red Wharf Bay because she's a fin-keeler. Next sail down to Beaumaris and then Caernarfon for Friday night's barbecue, arranged by the Royal Welsh Yacht Club. Saturday we go on to Abermenai, a sandy anchorage for the Boules match.
It's a nice day but windy.
Pebbles' problem may have been caused by the conversion to freshwater cooling. He's now changed it back to raw water cooling for the rest of the cruise, although it may not have been necessary to do so. He's quite happy. Weasel's 'fuel leak off' pipes go back to the fuel pump and may have been returning froth causing the problems. Alan has sorted it out and fitted temporary leak off pipes back to the tank. Surprisingly a few boats are piped up like this which isn't done on buses and not on my engine.
Suzie arrived around lunchtime, after getting mixed up and going into Conwy and then taking the wrong road out but she found us eventually. Ann arrived shortly afterwards and said she was staying the full fortnight, originally she was going home to look after the dog but Peter's mum had been pressurised into looking after it.
We got Suzie some sea boots and deck shoes from the chandler's. Even if she doesn't take to sailing they'll be useful for other purposes so we were quite happy to spend the money. The lady serving us had a bad back. I said you must be a dinghy sailor but she said no it's gardening.
We had an invitation for drinks at 2200 hours on board Alden Too, which we took up, Suzie and I leaving early, we were both tired and not really up to drinking.
Monday. Early shower again, never been so clean before when cruising.
Another captains' meeting at 1000 hours when we all decided to go then, because of the forecast wind and the flags in the marina flying horizontal, one by one we decided not to, all except Drumlin and Rolean.
Drumlin and Rolean left on the morning tide towards Moelfre with the possibility of going round to Holyhead. They were bound for Ireland.
From the chandler's we bought Brian Grey Goose a recently published pilot of the waters around Anglesey, promised to be very good.
We walked into Conwy along the coast path. The scene when you round the corner and the castle comes into view is very impressive and almost stops me in my tracks every time, the combination of the water, boats and castle. Conwy castle is the third of Edward I's great castles, built in 1283, well worth a visit on storm bound or rest days if you are interested in that sort of thing.
We had lunch in a café, I managed to get some films, and we stocked up with food for the barbecue planned. As it rained the barbecue was cancelled and Suzie cooked a lovely meal with the ingredients.
During the day Sue and I spent some time cutting Brian's balls off. No the yellow balls on his Rear Commodore burgee, making it into a Commodore's burgee.
Later in the evening Dave Cameo organised a quiz in the Mulberry won by the combined crews of Sea Dancer and Salty Fiddler after Esmerelda's scratch team had had two questions disallowed but were subsequently agreed, by all except Salty Fiddler, to have been correct. An interpretation of semantics or rather the order and intonation of the words. We all enjoyed it though. We seemed to occupy one half of the pub and were the only customers, only a handful of people without us, they would have had a quiet night without us.
We were later to learn that Drumlin had been forced to beach at Gallows Point, Beaumaris, Rolean was with her. As they got past Puffin Island the weather had deteriorated and they'd changed their destination to Beaumaris.
Tuesday. At the now regular captains' meeting we all voted to go but afterwards a few mumbled we're not going, still concern about possible force 5 winds. However everyone decided to sail except Alden Too who was only with us for a week so Captain Alden Too decided he would wait another day.
It was said that there was a regatta at Beaumaris and that there would be difficulty finding moorings.
Several boats left on time, Moonshine, Sea Dancer, Cameo, Pebbles, Esmerelda, Salty Fiddler, Phoenix and Weasel. The rest of us were a bit slow but then we heard an Irish Sea forecast, " … possible force 7 winds" so Weasel radioed "Have you heard the forecast? We're coming back". Phoenix and Salty Fiddler turned back with him and the rest of us stayed put.
Curlew had Gina on board, she'd come down by train to Conwy yesterday and John didn't want to risk her having a bad sail so soon. Similarly the crew on Grey Goose had Suzie on board and it was her first cruise since 1980 so we didn't want to risk upsetting her. In 1980, one of our early attempts at sailing Suzi she had been violently sick as we entered the Lune Deeps with wind over tide and me an inexperienced helmsman.
The brave boats had a good sail and all arrived safely at Gallows Point, Beaumaris, and had a quiet night.
Rolean and Drumlin had stayed anchored off Gallows Point in the pouring rain to wait for the other boats.
In the evening we, Grey Goose, had a Chinese meal, ordered by Alden Too's crew. Several crews wandered into Conwy and ended up at the sailing club, which should have closed at 2230 hours but Irene Salty Fiddler told the steward: "Not if I can help it" and they eventually left at 2400 or 0000 hours next day.
Cameo was anchored off Gallows Point and after hearing the forecast The Cameos decided not to go ashore at the pier but at the North West Venturers' Club, which was the nearest shore point. After a meal in the nearby pub they returned to find their dinghy high and dry with mud between them and Cameo! The pair took the motor off the dinghy and one carrying the motor, the other the dinghy; they set off across the clinging mud. Calf deep most of the time, each step nearly losing their boot, they eventually after a very strenuous struggle made it across the mud and collapsed almost too exhausted to climb onto Cameo. Never again said the leading Cameo.
Wednesday
Remaining captains' meeting. We decided to go. Subsequently discovered that Snowhill Maiden, whose crew's wives had come down by train, had decided to remain in Conwy as they were only down for the first week, as did Alden Too whose skipper had to return too. Curlew also decided not sail because Gina had had a bad night.
It was supposed to be lighter winds but the wind actually seemed stronger? We all set off, the tide and wind rushing past the entrance to the marina, jostling for position in the fairway. Weasel, Salty Fiddler and Phoenix led the procession followed by Grey Goose. Toggenberg ploughed past Grey Goose and the Conwy sightseeing boat muscled past us all with only a few damp and miserable looking passengers crowding the small after deck. At one moment it seemed like we were all going to bump into each other as we fought the waves. It soon became apparent that the wind was stronger and that the seas were very uncomfortable. Toggenberg ploughed gamely on but because of limitations on her insurance, mustn't set sail if a force 5 was forecast, she turned back when we were recording 5s gusting 6. A very wise decision it turned out to be. The seas gradually grew until we were pitching like prancing horses. As we rounded the corner the pitching was magnified by rolling as we turned to motor across the waves. At times the motion was violent and we rolled quite dramatically a few times, the motion getting worse until we reached the fairway buoy. By that time we had got used to the movement, that is except Suzie who was hanging on bravely but desperately, the additional rolling motion was playing havoc with her. At the Fairway buoy we decided to go for the radio mast as Jeff Pebbles had been told the locals do, i.e. cut across Dutchman's Bank. Jeff had radio yesterday that the shallowest water that they had encountered was eleven feet, well it was Linda Pebbles actually and she said fathoms but I'm sure she meant feet. We couldn't see the radio mast, bad visibility, it was hidden by clouds, but Brian had worked out the course before we set off so we pitched and rolled over the waves to the bank. The nearest we came to touching was 4.1 metres, according to the gauge so it was obviously good local advice. The remaining boats had headed south and gone through the pool all having had a "cracking sail" in the words of Rice Pudding's skipper. We had discounted this track because it dried to over 3 metres at the end before you made the channel and we were a little late. The waves moderated a little as we crossed the bank but sadly, just before we made the channel and smoother water, near number B4 buoy, Suzie was sick and she fell asleep on the cockpit floor for all the world looking like a corpse. It hadn't been a pleasant crossing for her.
The rest of the journey was pleasant enough and she recovered slightly. Weasel who had been well to our left, to port, tucked in behind us as we motored up the channel. We surveyed the vacant moorings, there were many more than we'd expected, and finally chose one on the Beaumaris side of the North West Venturers Sailing Club near buoy number B12 a little way from Rice Pudding, Salty Fiddler and Phoenix who were closer to the club. Weasel picked up the mooring in front of us.
Suzi arrived a little later and picked up a mooring near Rice Pudding but decided it wasn't a good one and picked up one next to us.
It was good to see Suzi doing so well. I fitted her out from an eggshell many years ago but never had the courage to sail her much. Martin and Peter bought he off me, Martin fittingthe windows and a lower floor. At last she'd got owners who were doing her proud, Ian, Barbara, David, Rebecca and Jessica Sharples.
Brian phoned the sailing club to check the mooring and they gave him the number and name of the moorings' officer for the Menai. Dave Jones. He said the owner was sailing at Caernarfon and wouldn't be back till Saturday and we were OK to use it. So, contrary to our earlier information, the regatta was at Caernarfon and there were plenty of vacant moorings at Beaumaris even though all the moorings had been allocated and there were no actual visitors' moorings.
In front of Weasel we spotted Chimo drying out as the tide receded.
The sun came out to welcome us but we decided not to go ashore as the wind was still blowing force 5 however we seemed to be fairly quiet. It was an idyllic afternoon and evening secure on the mooring knowing we wouldn't be disturbed during the night.
As we ate our meal the good people of Beaumaris rang the church bells to welcome us.
Several boats were having problems with their radios. Phoenix had bought a hand held VHF because theirs had packed up. Now Salty Fiddler couldn't get through. We picked up most calls but not all of them. Before tea we couldn't hear Tom Salty Fiddler although Weasel next to us could but later in the evening we heard Irene Salty Fiddler? Was our radio on the blink too?
Judging by the comments we gathered that Salty Fiddler and Rice Pudding were on Phoenix partaking of refreshment. We were invited over but were too lazy to blow up the dinghy.
The vanguard boats had had a pleasant crossing the day before, sailing most of the way, and had had a pleasant sail down to Caernarfon today with Drumlin and Rolean all safely tucked up in the marina in Victoria Dock.
We learnt that Rice Pudding had had a passenger and a pushbike on board for the journey from Conwy! John Broadhead had cycled form his new home in Deganwy round to the marina and boarded Rice Pudding with his bike. On arrival at Beaumaris pier John and bike had disembarked and John was cycling back to Deganwy.
Thursday 0645 hours. Wind moaning in the rigging, the rain tickling the topsides, the gurgling alongside. Suzie had had a 'queasy' night; Brian and I were ok.
The forecast didn't sound too good so we decided to stay on the mooring for another night despite the fact that Pebbles was contacted in Caernarfon and he said the sea was calm and the wind blowing 2-3. It would be several hours before we reached Caernarfon, anything could happen by then.
The wind was getting up and Suzie wasn't happy with the motion of the boat and I was beginning to feel queasy too so we all decided to go after all casting off and setting off towards the Swellies at 1040 hours, needing to arrive at the Menai bridge by 1140 hours. We had plenty of time.
Phoenix led he way, Salty Fiddler scurrying in behind, the rest of us following. A couple of larger sailing boats steamed past us in a determined way. They had no doubts where they were going.
The Menai Straits are very picturesque and it was interesting taking in the scenery which was to improve all the way. First Bangor Pier with the Telford suspension bridge looming in the distance. Sifting our way through the many mooring on either side and looking for possible places to stay in future, Phoenix led the way under the central arch, as directed by the pilot, with Grey Goose following. Brian was helming; Sue and I were looking out for the pilotage marks.
The first landmark is the dominant statue of Lord Nelson and soon the magnificent buildings of Plas Newydd, home of the Marquis of Anglesey, now belonging to the National Trust were visible, the grounds coming down to the water's edge with their own quay. I think several Marquises of Anglesey were Commodores of the Royal Welsh Yacht Club, our future hosts. Port Dinorwic soon came into view followed by the Plas Menai RYA teaching establishment.
Meanwhile Jeff Pebbles had been negotiating positions for us all in the docks. The dock was a bit crowed with boats taking part in the regatta. The Dockmaster would tell us whom to raft up to as we entered the dock. The Richard, the very helpful and competent Dockmaster, looked after us all very well throughout our stays in Victoria Dock.
We were surprised to find Rolean and Drumlin also in the dock. At approximately 1515 hours another boat arrived and tied up alongside behind us. I kept looking at the burgee thinking it was a Glasson one but that couldn't be, I didn't recognise the boat or the crew on the foredeck. It was a Glasson boat, it was Alan Round's newly acquired Sadler 26, to be named Sea Otter, and I recognised him straight away when he came on deck. They had sailed up from Pembroke and had been at sea for thirty-three hours.
Suzie and I walked round the shops to get some bread, milk and Stugeron. We also bought some books and a mug for me to drink out of. I thought it was bigger than the ones on boat but it only had ten per cent more capacity.
Dennis Weasel led us, John, John, Brian, Sue, me and himself, all to the Black Buoy or Black Boy, it depends if you want to be PC. It took a while to find it and then they almost turned us away but we settled down to an indifferent meal.
After the meal we drifted into the Royal Welsh Yacht Club, our hosts for tomorrow night's barbecue. Most of the other crews were already there and to our surprise they provided us with plates of sandwiches, cheese, ham and tuna. I ate and drank too much, for me that is. Wine with the meal, too many sandwiches and a pint of Guinness at the club.
The grand draw for the Boules tournament took place and the knockout chart drawn up. Each boat was a team, the boats with children also had a team for the children, making seventeen teams in all. Sue and I were the first to leave at 2330 hours approximately.
Friday.
For a while some of us watched the racing in the regatta, well only the starts really as the boats sailed out of sight well out towards the bar and when they returned they continued until they were out of sight up the straits. It was interesting though watching the controlled starts one after the other for each class of boat, cruisers, dayboats and dinghies.
No sailing today, we were staying for the barbecue tonight on the Royal Welsh Yacht Club barbican. Sue and I walked round Caernarfon to find food suitable for our own barbecue planned for tomorrow night at Abermenai. We were very well received in the butchers' shop, very kind, helpful and cheerful, very pleased with the service we received.
Brian had bought himself a fancy hat and a white T-shirt yesterday, tonight's barbecue was fancy dress with an Australian theme. Karen and Colin Phoenix had bought hats and Sue wanted hats for us. She found one but they weren't big enough for me. We then traipsed round many shops trying to get some corks. Eventually bought a storage jar with a big cork that we cut up later. Norman had bought a dress!
As we arrived back at the dock after our expedition we found a lady and some children trying to get on to the pontoons and looking for the Glasson boats. They had some friends from Glasson who they believed were here. She seemed a bit vague and, jokingly, I hope, said we're from Glasson and I don't recognise you. It turned out that they were good friends of Colin and Karen who happened to be being entertained with cocktails on Grey Goose. So we all joined them. The man, the lady's husband, who I hadn't spotted at first, was one of the second coxswains of the Barrow Lifeboat.
The barbecue was at 2000 hours and we all made our way across to the club in twos and threes and fours and mores. We ordered our food as we were admitted, it was only £1.50 each.
The barbecue was being cooked out on a kind of terrace, the barbican. The Vice-Commodore and another member doing the cooking. Three lovely ladies had prepared the salads and sweets and were doing the serving out.
Most of us were delighted with the food but a few didn't get what they'd ordered and they were disappointed. I went back for seconds and had two sweets, the sweets were a £1 each as was the seconds so I wasn't being greedy, I was just helping them use up the surplus food after the splendid effort that they had made for us.
When everyone was settled comfortably our Commodore rose and thanked the Royal Welsh Yacht Club for their hospitality and presented them with our burgee in recognition of our appreciation. He also presented the Vice-Commodore with an item of ladies underwear on behalf of our Rear Commodore Cruising. After the Vice-Commodore had accepted on behalf of the RWYC Brian presented Norman with a Rear Commodore's burgee in recognition for all the work he had done organising the cruise and negotiating generous discounts in the two marinas.
We drifted back to the boats.
Saturday. Promising forecasts for the rest of the holiday. We moved two boats back into spaces vacated so that they could get an early start, as soon as the gate was lowered, to get through the Swellies. One was a motor-sailer from Fleetwood going home.
After the captains' meeting it was decided that we'd all go to Abermenai anchorage. We slipped our moorings at 1215 hours and motored towards Abermenai, you've guessed into the teeth of the wind and tide again. We were one of the first boats to arrive and sailed up and down looking for a suitable spot, remember we couldn't dry out because of our fin keel. We eventually picked a spot with boats arriving en mass and also looking for spaces. We dropped our anchor, paid out a reasonable scope and took bearings of our position to monitor whether we were dragging or not. Suzi arrived and dropped her anchor over ours. After Brian explained the situation Suzi made several attempts to re-anchor, each time falling back over Grey Goose's. Meanwhile Salty Fiddler, dropped anchor, concentrating on paying out their warp, only by much shouting from an already anchored yacht that was there when we arrived, just avoided bumping into it. Interestingly a large yacht was already anchored nearby, the same yacht whose skipper had advised me not to go to Abermenai and if we did to be wary of the holding as the tide did peculiar things. Now was he genuine or was he being selfish? He also recommended Pilot's cove at Landdwyn Island - also recommended by the Conwy Marina brochure. Then a large two-masted steel boat pulled up and appeared to drop his anchor in front of us on ours. That's it, said our captain, we're not going to spend the rest of the day competing for space and all the Grey Gooses agreed that we should sail back to Caernarfon, none of us looking forward to staying put as we were exposed and in the main approach channel to the anchorage, a large gin palace motoring in and rocking us in a sick making manner.
We slowly eased our way out of the 'haven', hoisted the main sailed back towards Caernarfon. Not too comfortable a sail as the wind was directly behind so we gybed from time to time, not all intentional, zigzagging our way back. Rice Pudding tried to contact us on the radio but our radio didn't seem to be working so we couldn't reply but he managed to deduce that we were returning to the dock.
We couldn't raise the dock on the radio to warn them of our return, our radio must be knackered. I was concerned that we'd get closed out, as we weren't sure if he'd keep the gate lowered. Anyway in the end we made it with loads of time to spare. We were making two knots against he tide, probably enough to get back in time. I think Brian was just winding me up.
As we sailed back to the dock we passed Toggenberg who had spent the night up against the wall in Port Penrhyn, Bangor, on the way to Abermenai to join the fleet. They had puzzled looks on their faces no doubt wondering why we were heading the wrong way.
When we were approaching the dock we furled the Genoa and dropped the main to motor in. There was no sign of the Dockmaster so we berthed alongside Curlew, with John and Gina, who had come down from Beaumaris having spent the night on a mooring there. John made us all a welcome cup of tea, the cup that cheers, as I've been brain washed into thinking.
After a makeshift lunch Sue went off for a shower and Brian and Michael went to sleep. John and Gin went off to find a suitable eating establishment, eventually opting for fish and chips in the square.
The wind, which had been quite strong, force 3 to 4 was calming down into a nice sunny evening. Brian cooked the food, which we'd bought yesterday in preparation for the barbecue at Abermenai.
Rolean and Drumlin had left the fleet and sailed out to sea in company over the Caernarfon Bar. Drumlin had wanted to get to Porth Dinllean from where they could make a departure for Dublin. This also gave Rolean a suitable departure point for her now planned single-handed circumnavigation of Anglesey, which she had hoped to do in company with some of the other Club boats. This would certainly have been of interest to Grey Goose who wasn't suitable for some of the planned anchorages on account of her fin keel. Curlew would have been delighted to accompany her too. Sadly, presumably because of our defective radios, we hadn't made contact to discus these proposals.
Sunday. Awoke early and showered. Wandered over to the promenade with the binoculars to look across to Abermenai. The anchorage was full of boats, going on for thirty. One was clearly a fin-keeler lying on its side, bottom facing us. Reports were circulated later that the Sea Dancers, Rice Puddings and Salty Fiddlers, amongst others, had had anchor problems during the night. The Moonshines had the re-anchor three times, the Sea Dancers dragged a hundred metres and ended up kissing another boat. The next day the Sea Dancers dried out and almost fell into a hole! Rice Pudding dragged anchor too at 0100 hours, Weasel was in a 2.5 knot tidal race for a long time after HW. But that's the joy of sailing, anything can happen and usually does.
Talked to a man on a mission. They had bought their boat on the south coast some time last year and were using their holidays to bring it home to Millom. They planned to complete a circumnavigation of the British Isles but were looking forward to having the boat within reach for a few weeks.
I liked the dimensions and layout of Grey Goose's port side of her saloon so I got the ruler out and made some sketches and took some measurements, to adapt for the Tamarisk.
Gina was having to go home today, family responsibilities, several of us know what that's all about, and she was catching the 1300 hours bus to Bangor to catch the train home.
In the afternoon Sue and Michael eventually got round to walking to the castle. Sue got in with her English Heritage membership card, I couldn't find mine but when I got my money out to pay they let me in free! The Welsh are a really lovely race, Anne Robinson please take note! Oops, Freudian slip, now you all know that I sometimes watch The Weakest Link. Not missing TV at all!
We found a seat and sat down in the sun to glance through the guidebook we had bought when suddenly we were sprayed with a shower of water. It was a youth on the battlement spraying his mates with a water pistol. Much to his embarrassment he hadn't noticed us underneath him. He hurriedly descended and apologised to us who had enjoyed the fun but were nevertheless pleased by his concern and remorse.
Suddenly, were we dreaming? A larger than life figure of a King's minstrel appeared and blew rousing notes on his horn. He shepherded us into a circle between the Northeast tower and the Queen's gate on the upper Ward. He had come to tell us stories, as he'd done for Kings of old. He was good too, had presence. We enjoyed his stories, songs, music and poetry. He left us with a blessing, sung three times, once to hear it, second time to learn it and third time to sing it with him. May the road always rise up with you May the wind be always at your back May the sun always shine on your face May the rain fall gently on your fields And, until we meet again May God hold you in the hollow of his hands
Relieved at not having time to walk round all the castle, I've done it many times down the ages, fifty years of them out of my sixty-five, we wandered over to the Eagle Tower and climbed up to the top, one hundred and fifty-six steps up, to spy on the fleet in Abermenai through the binoculars. One hundred and fifty-six steps down again.
On the late afternoon tide Weasel arrived back with Dennis and John. In the Straits we spotted Chimo, who the Weasels told us had spent the night at Abermenai with them, Paul sailing solo, and was returning to Beaumaris.
Chimo said: "It was good to see so many Glasson boats at Abermenai. Not many clubs can boast 18 boats on a club cruise these days. I was there being sailed single-handed by Paul with nine other boats from Northwest Venturers. You obviously got the weather right too! I took a few photos at Abermenai."
Pebbles had landed somewhere to pick up Vicky and her partner to ferry them back to Toggenberg. We caught Dave filling water bottles in the dock but there was no sign of Pebbles.
The Grey Gooses, Weasels and Curlews all decided to go out for a meal together. Well what a pantomime. We walked round and round the Caernarfon eating establishments but couldn't find one to suit all our tastes. Eventually sue accosted three bouncers outside a club and asked for their recommendation. Honours, a Chinese, Cantonese, on the Square. We had a delightful table and a delightful meal but sadly we didn't all enjoy it because of our various eating preferences.
The Weasels and Curlews departed for the yacht club and the Grey Gooses went back to the dock.
Rolean and the Drumlins spent a pleasant day in Porth Dinllean.
Monday 4th August 2003
Curlew decided she'd had enough time spent in marinas and she was going to leave on the tide, which she did, bound for Holyhead. The Grey Gooses discussed whether they should take advantage of the weather and go for Holyhead. Sue could get the train from there to Conwy to pick up the car.
There was lots of radio chatter from Abermenai, we could hear but only seemed to be able to transmit intermittently. At first Toggenberg, Salty Fiddler and Pebbles were staying at Abermenai. Moonshine, Phoenix and Sea Dancer were returning to Caernarfon. The rest were going to go to Porth Dinllean, a charming anchorage on the Lleyn Peninsula. The Grey Gooses thought about this but unfavourable winds for this anchorage up to force 5 were forecast so they decided to stay in Caernarfon as many of the 'fleet' were due in and were eventually joined by the Sea Dancers, Phoenixes and Cameos.
At Porth Dinllean, at 0700 hours, Drumlin departed for Dun Laoghaireand, Rolean to Rhosneigr motoring across a millpond. Rolean arrived in the bay and anchored in time for lunch. She tried but was unable to contact any of the other boats from the fleet on the radio.
The Weasels and Sea Dancers had decided to have a barbecue so Sue and Michael set off round town to get meat and provisions, newspapers first to wrap the meat in to keep it cool while we gathered the rest of the food. Cool reception at the butchers, different staff on duty, despite us complementing them on the meat they had sold us previously?
Returning form our shopping expedition we noticed that Curlew had already flown but had said he was still undecided as to where he would land.
The Grey Gooses decided to go out into the Straits for a sail, a euphemism for what we were actually doing which was going out to empty the holding tank, no facilities on Grey Goose to pump it out into the dock system.
We had a lovely sail in the light winds with the tide up to Plas Menai school where there were several classes being instructed. We carried on sailing up the Straits but as the tide had turned we were gradually sailing backwards to Caernarfon, nevertheless it was a pleasant way to sail. Sue had felt queasy but eventually found solace on the foredeck where she enjoyed the rest of the sail. These smooth conditions also tend to make me feel queasy too. Sue said she much preferred the exciting pitching on the way down to Caernarfon on Thursday. The wind eventually dropped and we turned round, stowed the sails and motored back to Victoria dock where the Dockmaster, Richard, directed us to our new berth, this time alongside newly arrived Cameo who was rafted alongside Weasel now attached to the power boat next to the pontoon. Richard had said he would look out for our return, as our radio was unreliable. Richard is also the Straits Pilot and a very kind and considerate man, a man the Welsh Tourist Board and the Caernarfon Harbour Trust should be proud of. We had made quite a mess on the power boat deck so I scrubbed it down, having to be done again by John Weasel before we left the dock for the last time.
No Moonshine. All the fleet except Toggenberg and the ones now in Caernarfon had sailed to Porth Dinllean. Dave Toggenberg had gone as extra crew on Rice Pudding.
Over the next couple of hours the weather changed from a glorious day to a dull rainy evening so our planned barbecue was cancelled. Brian cooked the meal this time with Sue assisting. I never learnt to cook, must do so now, so I usually did the washing up.
The Grey Gooses all listened to Brian's music, popular classical.
At 2200 hours we had a phone call from Curlew saying she had arrived safely in Holyhead ten minutes ago.
Brian went to the yacht club, Sue and I read.
Tuesday Another hot sunny day. Up early again and showered, I'll wash myself away at this rate, must be the influence of the posh surroundings of Grey Goose.
Whilst I was showering, 0630 hours, Rolean was leaving Rhosneigr to be sure of getting the timing right for rounding South Stack en route for Holyhead. In the event she arrived an hour early but as the conditions seemed OK she continued. It was at this point that Rolean's autohelm stopped working! By 1100 hours she was on a Holyhead Sailing Club mooring and was soon whisked ashore by their water taxi service. The facilities at Holyhead are good but he town centre is very sad. Derek contacted Jim Sea Dancer by telephone and arranged to meet up with the majority of the fleet in Red Wharf Bay at the end of the week.
Meanwhile Rice Pudding is leading the fleet back to Caernarfon so we decided to stay put and await their arrival.
After the early rising we had a lazy morning, Sue prepared sandwiches for our, by now, planned walk along the shore to greet the incoming boats. Buoy C10 brings them close to the shore.
Sue's knee was bad so we went to Boots first to get a knee bandage. Then we walked under the castle and across the bridge into new territory. John Weasel had done this walk the previous day.
It was a bit hot for walking so we ambled along resting on many of the bench seats in our path. There were many sea gulls, Oystercatchers, Red Shanks, Cormorants, Curlews a Heron and many more which we couldn't identify.
We had the binoculars and from time to time looked across to Abermenai to watch Toggenberg and we were watching the bar expecting the fleet to come into view from Porth Dinllean.
We stooped for lunch in the shade of a parked SUV parked on the foreshore near a small bay with several moored boats. The tide was coming in and the water was slowly rising round their hulls. We sat and ate our sandwiches watching the boats gradually pick up and swing round to face the tide.
Suitably refreshed we walked on until we came to bungalow, Ty Cyncth Cottage, owned by Ron and Martha Edwards. The field or grounds surrounding the cottage was full of small motor boats on their trailers. Across from the cottage was a small slip, really just a cleared path through the stones to the water's edge. We sat down on the wall and looked out over the bar. Sue said I can't go any further, you go on if you wish. I walked a further hundred yards or so round the bend to see what looked like glorious sandy beaches and further round the anchorage opposite Abermenai. Meanwhile a gentleman, presumably Ron, came out from the cottage and told Sue we could use the toilet on the boat park if we wished. "We keep on at the council to provide facilities but they're useless" he said.
Then we spotted the flying bedstead, Rice Pudding, approaching the bar. Through the glasses we watched her turn into Abermenai and pull up alongside Toggenberg and disgorge David. Next on the horizon was Esmerelda. Now we were walking back to the point opposite buoy C10 to wave to the yachts as they passed.
Esmerelda passed us and we waved frantically but hey either didn't see us or ignored "the two queer eccentrics waving". Next was Salty Fiddler steaming past Pebbles. Jeff was on Pebbles' cabin roof folding the mainsail and he recognised us and waved back. The Phoenixes also saw us and waved. Moonshine sailed past oblivious, as did Rice Pudding who brought up the rear. Back in the dock all reported a cracking sail up from Porth Dinllean.
As we approached the swing bridge Toggenberg loomed into view by now we were to far from them to see us but through the glasses we were able to se them begin to approach the dock entrance. It was also beginning to rain now. Crikey! A mast could be seen moving in the dock and it came steaming out! Only skilled manoeuvring by Toggenberg avoided a spectacular 'incident', they had to turn away and circle round before making their entrance. Dave said later that he heard Richard telling the yacht to wait as a barge was coming in but the yacht obviously ignored the instruction.
John Weasel and Dave Cameo had walked up to the monument on the hill behind the marina, lovely view but it took them ages to find the path that lead to the top. We were told that Brian had gone to Bangor with the Sea Dancers. The rain stopped and the sun came out again. Now back on the boat Colin Phoenix was serenading us with tunes on his recorder.
The Porth Dinllean boats all went off to Witherspoons for their evening meal, we were all invited but declined, as we preferred some home cooking for a change.
Gary Cameo was working out the details of a cricket match he was planning to organise at Red Wharf Bay tomorrow.
It turned out that the Salty Fiddlers had not slept a wink on the anchorage at Porth Dinllean, Pebbles had had a rough night too, although Jeff said it was only a little rough, the others must have had similar experiences. Another talking point was the price of a pint at the pub on the shore. Nice pub but it was £2.50.
Later in the evening we all met up at the Royal Welsh Yacht Club and Dave Cameo organised a short quiz, which was won by an Irish Crew after a tiebreaker. The Irish crew leader said I bet you can't answer this question: I'm Welsh but my mother was English and my father was Irish from Dublin. No. It was his surname that was Welsh. According to the Weasels there are a lot of Welsh round Dublin.
Wednesday. Up early again, very hot night, woke up once and was wet through with perspiration.
Rolean was up early too and in very misty conditions motor-sailed out of Holyhead to negotiate the inner passage of the Skerries. Autohelm no longer reliable, mist even thicker and with no wind as she approached Carmel Head, took in all sail and motored through the swell from the last part of the ebb but soon found calmer water close inshore. A little later Wilfra Power Station suddenly sprang up out of the mist as she passed by and anchored in Caemes Bay.
Back in Caernarfon, down the line, Salty Fiddler was feeding the swans with something out of a bucket. There are many swans at Caernarfon, just like Glasson. Swans seem to be growing in numbers everywhere - are they good to eat.
We had another captains' meeting and the departure times for the Swellies were discussed and decided upon. Two and a half-hours before high water Liverpool the RWYC handbook said. Someone had told Pebbles that if you go three hours before you get the tide up to Beaumaris.
As soon as the gate opened several boats left. Richard's day off? Not around, another man was doing the duty. The Glasson fleet waited until after 1500 before departing. The wind was more or less behind and the Grey Gooses sailed for a while, putting the motor on when we'd passed Port Dinorwic. One by one we lined up to go through the Swellies. The Phoenixes were so intent on looking astern to keep the transit under the Britannia bridge in line that they nearly ran Rice Pudding down who for some reason were progressing very slowly. There was a large trawler behind us but I don't think she was a working boat, we gave them room to pass but they stayed behind.
Under the Suspension bridge and out in the straits towards Beaumaris. Off the Bangor pier Toggenberg, Rice Pudding, Pebbles, Moonshine, Salty Fiddler, Suzi, Esmerelda and Cameo sailed into Port Penrhyn, intending to depart from there the next day to Red Wharf Bay. There was some confusion and jockeying for position but they all settled down eventually. There was only a rope ladder and when the tide went out the quay was thirty to forty feet above them but they all conquered their apprehensions and made it to the top and back again.
Weasel, Grey Goose and Phoenix sailed on to Conwy. Grey Goose had her sails up from Bangor Pier to Beaumaris but the wind died so she switched her motor on to catch up with the others. We saw Curlew astern sailing away from us? Radio conversations indicated the Lorne of Naze was off Great Orme's Head bound for Port Penrhyn but when she was informed that she'd have to dry out made for Conwy instead. When they all arrived in the marina she was waiting for them. Moments later Curlew arrived, having sailed from Beaumaris where she'd spent the night of Gallows Point.
I helped Curlew into her berth and as we rounded the head of the pontoon a yacht from Fleetwood hailed us, they appeared quite chuffed, or were they amused? to see an Atalanta. They guessed we were from Glasson and helped us come alongside the pontoon.
We met up in the Mulberry, Karen Phoenix was already asleep, and they were having an early start tomorrow to sail back to Glasson. We were introduced to the Two Shoes from Liverpool who were going to sail back to Glasson with us.
Thursday. Went on deck at 0700 hours but the Phoenixes had already left. Saw the Lorne of Nazes but by the time I got round to photographing them they'd gone too. Weasel said I'd just missed them - story of my life.
Today was Sue's departure for home day and we were going to have a rest day.
Weasel tried to contact Lorne of Naze but couldn't however the Fleetwood yacht replied saying it was windy and foggy off Great Orme's Head!
Rolean left Caemes Bay bound for Moelfre and for the last hour of her passage was entertained by two dolphins who behaved like a couple of kids showing off, leaping out of the water and around and under Rolean like trained performers. She contacted Sea Dancer again and was informed that the fleet in Port Penrhyn would soon be heading for Red Wharf Bay.
In the last hour before high water Rolean left Moelfre and entered Red Wharf Bay, the fleet arriving about an hour later.
Sue got away sometime after 1100 hours. I went with her to the by-pass. She phoned up to say she'd got on to the M56 and at 1325 hours she phoned again, this time to say she'd been home ten minutes. Fortunately she'd had a god run. I was just about to set off on a walk along the shore towards the sea or Conwy Bay.
Walked along the sands and the Pebbles. There were lots of Turnstones and oystercatchers and of course several species of gull. I had the binoculars and I kept looking for Glasson Boats. From time to time there were groups of people. This beach, Conwy Morfa, was where we had come when I was a young teenager. We'd camped and then stayed in my uncle's caravan. I'd looked longingly up the hills on the other side of the road all the time we'd been in Conwy and wanted to walk up to the top as I'd done as a child fifty years ago. I must do that next time. But I was walking down memory lane on the beach so it wasn't all frustrating. Once I'd gone a few miles I suddenly thought why aren't you paddling, a nice flat sandy beach and gentle waves, so I took off my sandals and walked along the edge of the sea, it was lovely. Now I was on territory I hadn't walked on before. There were more people here, several swimming. Children building castles to hold back the sea just as we'd done all those years ago. Are the kids flying into the sunset missing all the fun we had on Britain's beaches? No wet sand round the Mediterranean to make castles and pies, no tide to come in to wash down the castle walls. I walked right round to the second old tunnel and couldn't go any further because the cliffs came right down into the sea. I decided not to walk back along the shore as the tide was coming in and I'd have had to scramble, perhaps climb over the rocks near the first tunnel. I walked back through Penmenwhar and got some bread and cakes and things. Walked along the road to the roundabout outside Penmenwhar and then crossed the road onto the cycle track and walked along that up to the outside of the first tunnel. Over the sea wall and along the edge of the sea and rocks were literally hundreds of Oystercatchers, their feeding ground by now obviously covered up. I then scrambled down the bank and over the railway, it had been a path at one time with gates on to the railway lines and warnings to look out for trains! Back along the sand hills for a while and then back on the beach all the time looking out for Glasson boats.
Brian and John Curlew had been into Conwy to see the Harbourmaster about the inshore passage and had come away with a small chart and instructions.
In the evening the Weasels, Curlews and Grey Gooses all walked along the shore into Conwy for an evening meal at the Castle Hotel. Excellent, discovered by John Curlew earlier in the holiday. # Wandered back to the marina for a last drink in the Mulberry where we met The remaining Moonshines.
Meanwhile in Red Wharf Bay the crews were being entertained to dinner on Toggenberg, a Jacob's Join. Later Rolean and the Suzies, carrying Suzi's inflatable, had to part stumble part wade back to their boats who were moored close together. They arrived to find Rolean nicely settled but Suzi was nose down, how they managed to sleep that night is a mystery.
I missed Moonshine's arrival at Conwy. They pulled on to the barge at the entrance and the man looking after the marina, Brian said he looked like one of the craftsmen, not the usual office staff, He said to Brian that he'd been dropped into it. He said to Moonshine that they couldn't stay because there wasn't any room in the marina. Moonshine said where can we go now? We must be allowed to stay and after a lot of talk eventually they found a berth alongside the jetty where the lifting out crane was. They had to climb up and down a ladder, not very nice. They unloaded Ann, Jennifer and Daniel and all their gear, filling the car up completely, and they set off home. Peter was joined by Martin Topping who had come down by train, four trains to be precise and they were so off the timetable that he missed one connection. He said the train service was appalling.
Friday 8th August - on the way home!
Up at 0630 and made a cup of tea for captain and prepared to leave. It was misty, visibility not very good at all, you could just see the house across the river. Not sure whether to go for the inshore route or follow the buoys down the channel.
Cast off at 0745 as planned and motored out into river. The new yacht, Two Shoes, the couple from Liverpool, just bought the boat and spent three weeks tidying it up in the marina, came out with us on passage to Glasson marina. By the time we got to the beacon Grey Goose was leading with Weasel, Two shoes, Curlew behind to port and Moonshine bringing up the rear. We spotted the first green buoy of the inshore passage so decided to take the inshore route after all. It was easy to see the buoy opposite the groyne although to me it looked like an artificial stone breakwater rather than a groyne, at the end of which was a beacon with a red can shaped cage, port hand mark. We sailed between the buoy and the beacon as instructed and were able to see the next buoy, these buoys turned out to be all the same shape, smallish lower drum with a conical top mark. This buoy is opposite a big white hotel with something that looked like a seaside promenade shelter, long low roofed building, dark in contrast to the hotel. From this buoy we turned at least 60 degree to port towards the final buoy which we'd spotted a few moments earlier. These three buoys are all starboard hand buoys in the direction of Conwy.
0820 hours. Radio message: Pebbles calling Weasel. Weasel didn't respond so Grey Goose responded "We've all just come through the inshore passage and rounding Great Orme's Head." The other boats had set off from Red Wharf Bay and were in thick fog.
Rolean was anchored only 20 metres from the shore but couldn't see it. Pebbles and Esmerelda appeared and sailed past her and disappeared into the gloom. Suzi upped anchor and followed them. David Sea Dancer was supposed to sail with Rolean as she had no autohelm and Derek would have to steer all the way home. With no sign of the other boats and unable to make contact by radio Rolean too disappeared into the gloom steering by GPS into the open sea. # We rounded Great Orme's Head and, rounding a motor boat with fishing rods out, we set course for West Constable cardinal buoy. The fog closed in, visibility was down to about fifty metres, and Weasel and Two Shoes tucked in behind Grey Goose. Moonshine and Curlew were no longer to be seen. Weasel came alongside "Have you got your radar on" We'd just switched it on. We'd been doing four knots but we reduced speed to four knots and sail on in triangular formation.
At approximately 1000 hours the fog cleared. Brian hoisted the main but it wasn't possible to sail without deviating form the direct course. About a mile or mile and a half away on the port beam a boat which could have been Moonshine appeared to be sailing, both sails out. There was no sign of Curlew. Back up to six knots.
1200 hours P&O ship Nobank crosses bow right to left, not very far ahead.
Curlew radioing Weasel to see where they were. Can now see a boat ahead, which looks like Curlew. It is Curlew, she must have not reduced speed in the fog.
Weasel and Two Shoes now well behind, almost out of sight. No sign of Moonshine. We've heard Sea Dancer, Rice Pudding, Cameo and Pebbles on the radio.
Texted Sue and told her of our ETA and probably not going to be able to lock through so she's going to come and meet us and stay on board.
All five boats now seem to be motoring with only their mains up now. Brian's pushing on now, over six knots to get ahead, so that when the tide turns and we get some help we can perhaps sail for a while. # We'd caught Curlew up now and John's eating something form a pan in his distinctive Aussie hat.
1515 hours captain unfurls the Genoa and we're sailing, upwards of three knots and drifting slightly off course. The other boats are catching us up now but still only four boats in view. # More radio chatter now, Salty Fiddler concerned about being recovered at Glasson, working out the pecking order.
We should be of Blackpool but it's hazy and we can't see anything but we can hear the aircraft from Warton flying around. We're approaching a large aerial type structure.
1730 hours. A rig support vessel has just passed Two shoes and the huge wash has caused the tiller to break and they have no way to steer. Weasel came to their rescue and took them in tow. Everything seems to be ok, Two shoes following in a straight line. Something on the radio about Suzi?
1815 hours Weasel managing ok, Curlew is standing by, rest of fleet seems to be between five and ten miles behind us. We've drifted along at four knots but now the wind's dropped and we're off course. Motor on.
We arrived at Lune river No. 1 and found Curlew, Weasel, Two Shoes and Columbus waiting to go up the channel and Drumlin approaching from the west, coming back from Ireland. A boat was way ahead, subsequently identified at Katrina. We slowed right down and made our way to the first buoy. Rolean appeared out of the blue at No. 5 buoy. Messages coming through on the radio indicating that they can't open the dock gate but it's only 2000 hours, plenty of time to go. Pebbles cutting across Bernard Wharf.
We arrived at the dock and circled round for a while the g ate eventually opening properly and we all started to file in. The basin lock as open and British Waterways were in attendance. Katrina was the first in followed by Drumlin then Grey Goose. The other boats were beginning to fill the dock but as there were no more that wanted locking up evident the lock gates were closed and the lock started to fill.
We moored the boat and packed to leave for home, Sue having got round to the marina at this stage.
Suzi's engine had stopped about halfway home and Esmerelda had stood by seeing her safely up the Lune and on to a mooring at Sunderland Point, arriving at about 2245 hours, too late for the dock or the Glasson moorings. The Suzies discovered, after they had checked the oil and fuel filters, that the engine had overheated. They removed the stairwell completely and let the engine cool. They re-started the engine and picked up a breeze and managed to motor-sail the rest of the journey with Esmerelda standing by.
Sea Otter - Alan Round & later joined by Susan & Chimo - Paul Mountford Lorne of Naze - Alex Ratcliffe, Pat Walsh and Luke Thornborough Two Shoes - Mick Clough & Linda Harris
Rolean: "Sailing single-handed is tiring especially without a tiller pilot, but I would do it again tomorrow and will not hesitate to go out single-handed at any future date."
a Perigrinatio (a word learnt from the book The Unlikely Voyage of Jack de Crow, leant to me by Hazel Sea Dancer) - the mediaeval practice whereby a monk or pilgrim would climb into a small coracle without oars or sail, push out to sea and go where the wind and waves took him
The whole point of a perigrinatio is that you do not say, "I must get to somewhere by tonight come hell or high water". This annoys the deity and he is likely to produce both of the above elements in copious quantities
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Here I am with Jaja, on Grey Goose discussing Toggenberg, waiting to lock down into the dock
Pebbles leading Weasel out of the dock
The boats behind us on our way down the channel into Conwy
Sunday morning. Conwy marina entrance, low water, you can see the raised sill.
Rice Pudding & Esmerelda, behind the structure, before the fun started.
Toggenberg opposite.
A close up of Toggenberg
Here we all are, hilarities over, getting down to the serious business of planning our next moves.
The Esmereldas had their engine cover off and were busy with repairs. The bag that Dermott's holing is full of the warp that had got entangled round their propellor!
Peter Moonshine had his head buried in Rice Pudding's engine. The marina was aglow with people doing good deeds.
Suzie and Brian deciding what to order.
Weasel at peace after the choppy crossing
Chimo, the tide having ebbed considerably now
The Suzis arriving at Beaumaris
At this time the Swellies is a millpond, and with our good pilotage notes one is tempted to think what all the fuss is about but beware it soon becomes a raging torrent. We all got through without incident, identifying all the pointers, except Phoenix who didn't pick up the transit beacons under the southern span of the Britannia bridge but she only wandered slightly inshore and wasn't in any danger. Pebbles ambition is to go through at low water, another time when it is like a millpond but obviously much less water.
In Caernarfon we were eventually rafted seven deep but it was comfortable enough.
Drumlin's Andy scrubs the decks while Lorna poses for the camera below
The Fleet enjoying the convivial atmosphere of the Royal Welsh Yacht Club
Rolean had radio problems and also a problem with her bilge pump. She decided not to go to Ireland after all. Derek went to Dickie's in Bangor for a new bilge pump. Guess who came tothe rescue, yes it was Peter Moonshine was seen working at the top of her mast. Dave Esmerelda and Peter worked together to try to get Rolean's radio working but to no avail. It turned out that the aerial was the problem and Peter had been fitting Moonshine's spare aerial to the shroud at the top of the mast
The Royal Welsh Yacht Club is in one of the towers in the town wall, the old town defences and looks out over the straits. Very pleasant situation.
The RWYC members working hard to provide us with victuals.
The RWYC ladies doing their best too
Here Norman, our Rear Commodore Cruising and Cruise leader, is tucking into his food. You will note that he is in fancy dress, Dame Edna, it was an Australian Night. - On the right is the Commodore presenting the RWYC with our burgee, or what??
The king's Minstrel entertaining us in Caernarfon Castle
A few pictures taken from the top of the tower
The swing bridge opening- left, into the harbour - right
Looking at the fleet at Abermenai, middle right of picture
Below are a few scenes from the Abermenai group - photos by Peter Johnson
Is Linda eating a piece of burnt driftwood?
Irene & Tom, the Salty Fiddlers winning the boules?
Evening at Porth Dinllaen
photo by Peter Johnson
photos by Peter Johnson
Victoria Dock Caernarfon
David topping up with water on his quick visit from Abermenai with the 'ferry'.
Below are scenes amongst the fleet on a sunny afternoon in Victoria Dock, Caernarfon
Colin playing the flute and 'Curly John' relaxing below
Dennis & John above and Gary below
Sue enjoying the sunshine
Jim making a minor adjustment
Jennifer & Vicki above and Vicki & Davis below
Sue on our sail up to Plas Menai
Linda & Ann on the Royal Welsh roof
Filling Toggenberg up with water before we leave Caernarfon for the last time - 2 tons?
The last Captain's meeting
Cameo, above, and Suzi below making towards the Swellies
Going through the Swellies
Esmerelda through, two shots of Grey Goose below
The Port Penrhyn fleet
My walk along the beach and a few last shots of Conwy marina below
Weasel & Two Shoes closely following Grey Goose in the fog. Grey Goose had radar. The boats from Red Wharf bay struggled.
Curlew out of the fog and leadingthe fleet homeward bound
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