PicoMicroYacht in Thailand

PicoMicroYacht in Thailand ... I wish ... but I did the next best thing ...

I have not been able to PicoMicroYacht in the last few weeks, but had the opportunity to go to the Phang Nga Bay in Thailand and sail a Wharram Catamaran for a few days.

James Wharram sailing a Wharram

James Wharram first started designing catamarans in the 1950s, based on his research into ancient Polynesian designs.

Sixty years ago, he sailed one of his early designs across the Atlantic from New York to the River Conwy in North Wales, the first Catamaran to make this voyage. Since then Wharram’s have travelled the world.

My Wharram was based on the Hitia class, lengthened from 17 feet to 26 feet. It was built by Maxim Jurgens, originally from the south Netherlands, establishing a fleet of four Wharram’s for hire in southern Phuket, the other ones larger and more sophisticated.

Maxim Jurgens

 I was to sail into the Phang Nga Bay, famous for scenic islands and sheltered water.

The Hitia had just a bare deck, with the option of sleeping in a tent either on the deck or the beach.

When I arrived, Maxim was there to greet me and provide instructions, with his helper, called ‘Popeye,’ who indeed appeared to be a blond Germanic version of the character.

Maxim explained how to rig the Hitia. His explanations reminded me of Q instructing James Bond, speaking tersely and enthusiastically in an accented version of precise English (he could have said ‘now pay attention PicoMicroYacht,’ but I am obviously imagining this).

As a result, I remembered absolutely everything he told me, which proved very helpful later on. He told me he personally liked most maintaining the boats, which is just as well because everyone else benefits from him keeping his treasure going.

The gathering storm

The afternoon was nearly finished, and it was soon to be dark, so I quickly put up the tent. A storm was brewing, and I had just time to finish when heavy rain and thunder started, the ferocity of which I have rarely experienced in the UK. I lay in the tent counting the time between the flashes and the thunder, wondering what it would be like if I received a direct hit.  About two hours later I could relax, read a book and sleep.

The following morning, there was a north easterly force four to five. I rigged and set off, finding I could just point high enough to clear the bay. I had been warned that Wharram’s are poor at pointing into the wind, but I was making good progress. I passed a lighthouse close on my port bow and then saw from starboard an array of large fishing boats crossing my path.

It was then I recalled the advice on how to go about in a Wharram: ‘get some speed up, put the helm hard over and keep the jib tight and let it back.’  It did not work. The Hitia just went into stays and sat there nonchalantly. I had another go, but the same happened. Because of the proximity of the lighthouse, I turned to starboard and bore away, eventually gybing and then gybing back again to continue on my way (later I mastered tacking – the trick is to be ruthless with the technique).

Soon I was close hauled again, tacking up Phang Nga Bay. The Hitia seemed to gather up pace and keep going effortlessly for about ten miles until I was approaching an island called Koh Rang Yai. At this point the wind disappeared and I motored the last mile to the west side of the island.

Moored at Koh Rang Yai

This was where the Hitia came into its own. Maxim had told me that most of the coast was sand or mud, and beaching was easy – find an island and anchor protected from the prevailing wind. I was warned not be fooled by the late afternoon sea breeze, blowing in the opposite direction. Beaching the Hitia was convenient in the day, but I was to discover the beach also attracted bugs at nightfall, so I learned to anchor off by about 100 metres.

I also found I could anchor close to the beaches and swim ashore, the tidal streams being slight.

There followed several days of setting sail in the morning and returning to Koh Rang Yai for the night, the beach deserted after nightfall.

I relaxed into the rhythm of the sea and wind, made easy by the predictable wind directions and strengths.

A traditional long-tail fishing boat passing by

The twin hulls tracked smoothly and effortlessly, a slight weather helm counteracted by using a rope system to fix the course. The two hulls meant a stable platform to move around on.

Standing whilst under way

 In the distance were the scenic islands

On the second night, I was woken at 2.00 am by the light of a long-tail fishing boat, about 50 metres away. In my stupor I thought they must be pirates, so I stood up on deck and made a presence. But I soon woke up properly and realised the light trained on me was just curiosity. Satisfied with this, I went back to sleep.

The days passed quickly, and I returned to the base, at the end of my voyage passing through a small race which the Hitia cut through with ease.

Rough water as part of the race

‘Popeye’ was there to greet me, positioning himself in his dinghy by my mooring buoy.

A short clip captures the Hitia sailing

Maxim's fleet

http://www.sailing-charter-thailand.com/ourcats.html

Rye to Hastings and Ashes to Ashes

I haven't been able further explore the Jurasic Coast so far (see previous post).

As an interlude I decided to voyage from Rye to Hastings. The navigation is simple; follow the coast and keep clear of ledges close to the shore.

I regard Rye as a proxy home port for PicoMicroYacht.  This is because Full Throttle Boat Charters is based there, and they provided the backup for the PicoMicroYacht English Channel crossing.

Walking through Rye Port, I saw the rib that accompanied me, tucked into a boat park. I paid homage by sneaking a photograph.

Spot the rib in the background

PicoMicroYacht was then launched and drifted away from the slipway as I put the oars in their gates.

Near the entrance the sea was calm but the clouds heralded more wind.

Out to sea there was a crude but effective navigational tripod.

I was heading west, passing a flat coast that eventually gave way to sandstone cliffs.

Just before the cliffs is a beach called Pett Level. The beach and nearby cliffs provided a backdrop for  David Bowie's  'Ashes to Ashes' video.

I quickly moved on, reaching Old Hastings in less than an hour. Here the fishing boat are hauled up on the beach, looking even more scenic from the sea.

The tide and wind continued to push me on and I overshot Hastings to reach St Leonards on Sea.

A convenient small reef calmed the sea and created a lagoon, making it easier to land without swamping.

The voyage took 3.5 hours, covering the 12.5 miles from Rye Port to St Leonards on Sea.

David Bowie's Ashes to Ashes video at Pett Level

The Ashes to Ashes video was directed by David Mallett and David Bowie in 1980, and includes stunning visual effects achieved using just camera settings and filters.

David Bowie on the beach with his 'mum'

As well as showing the Pett Level beach, the video ends with an actress cast as David Bowie's mother. She is shown remonstrating with him, because the song finishes with the refrain: 'My mother said, to get things done, you had better not mess with Major Tom.'

In those days pop videos were a bit different

The Jurassic Coast

This was the start of PicoMicroYacht’s voyage along the Jurassic Coast, which stretches 96 miles from Studland to Exmouth. People visit this World Heritage site from all over the world, walking the coast trail. I don’t really advertise on this site, but the below map shows the type of walking trail holiday that is possible.

The plan was to go from Swanage to Kimmeridge (just before Lulworth Cove), an approximate ten-mile distance. In PicoMicroYacht, the voyage had to be planned carefully.

The main consideration is going round St Aldhelms Head, sometimes calls St Albans Head. This is the most southerly point on this part of the coast and has a formidable race. As described by Peter Bruce’s ‘Inshore Along the Dorset Coast’ the race is caused by ‘a four-mile-long precipitous underwater ledge, which by halving the depth, can throw up furious breaking waves.’

St Aldhelm's race inside passage on not such a good day 

To avoid the race, it is possible to go via an inside passage, but this may disappear in the wrong weather conditions. At spring tides the rate can be up to three knots, which is the PicoMicroYacht speed. If arriving at the wrong time, you may be nevertheless committed to going through the race.

I decided  to pass St Aldhelms Head at low water slack and ensure it was at neaps.

I planned to take a fair tide from Swanage to St Aldhelms, arriving as the tide halted.  It would then set against me for the last few miles to Kimmeridge, but not have time to build up to full force.

Another factor when rounding the head is the counter current that greets you from the western side. It is quite powerful and can push you back into the race area. By going at slack water and neaps, I would avoid the worst of it.

Technical information about the currents around St Aldhelm's Head, also showing the counter current eddy when the tide is to the west. Also marked is the inshore passage.

Time lapse modelling video of the tides around St Aldhelm's (has Portland Bill as well)

As well as focusing on good timing I made sure the sea was smooth or slight and  there was a light easterly wind to help me on my way.

Another factor is that the Ministry of Defence use these parts of the coast as firing range, including shooting shells and missiles out to sea. They do not fire at weekends.

Having all these constraints means there are not many opportunities to do the voyage, so when all the right conditions were in place I went for it.

I set off early from Swanage Sailing Club, who were very helpful and friendly. Knowing about my voyaging from a previous email, they allowed me to launch from their beach, rigging the boat the night before. A club member  even helped me with an early morning launch as we dragged PicoMicroYacht down the beach into the water.

Just outside Swanage is the Peverill Point race. This is caused by double vertical underwater walls or ledges, which can kick up a vicious sea. I was very nearly pooped there in a 23 foot yacht – some water lapped over the stern.  Despite this, the club convinced me it was alright to go through the race at neaps, which they do in their club dinghies  It was lumpy going, but I felt very safe.

Looking back at Swanage and the Peverill race

When nearly through the it, a fleet of jetskis came in my direction, spread across the horizon

They closed in on me and passed either side, seemingly unperturbed by the bumpiness of the race.

The tide then pushed me down to Durlston and Anvil Point. A slight swell was keeping the sea lumpy.

As I passed the headlands, I was well ahead of schedule for reaching St Aldhelm's Head at slack tide.

I decided to call up the St Alhelms Head Head National Coastwatch Institute (NCI) lookout station  to ask for advice concerning whether the conditions would be good enough to pass through the inner passage.

They predicted the race would get worse in an hour, which is when I would arrive if I kept going at the same speed. I could see the race in the distance, with the agitated motion of the waves silhouetted on the horizon. So I decided not to risk things, but to drift a bit to slow progress. 

My GPS position, showing the PicoMicroyacht location when drifting

As I drifted along, I reached a place called the 'Dancing Ledge' an area of flat rock towards the base of the cliffs. This facilitates people reaching the sea from the cliffs above and is a popular bathing place. Some people had decended from the ledge and were being trained in coasteering. There were two swimmers nearby, also onlookers.

The coastering students under instruction

I now had two miles to go to reach St Aldhelm's Head. As I slowly approached, I was caught up by some kayakers. We chatted for a while and then continued.

When I eventually arrived  at St Aldhelm's Head there was no race to be seen.

Just about to round St Aldhelm's close in - a semi-submerged rock can be seen ahead

I had been told that there was deep water in the inner passage. I rounded the head and was able to see the bottom, but I was very close in.

Very close in and the bottom visible. Not a place to be in a yacht

I radioed the NCIs lookout station to indicate my presence. The person on duty exclaimed rather spontaneously, ‘you are not going very fast.’  I explained my lack of speed since it is not possible to row and radio at the same time. I reflected on the fact that the NCI volunteers do an incredible job keeping an eye out for difficulties, there now being no paid coastguards to do so in such parts.

Looking up at the NCI lookout station, just visible over the cliff

Having rounded the headland I was met by the counter current and rowed hard. I persevered and eventually approached Kimmeridge, the grey cliffs contrasting with the green blue sea.

Close to Kimmeridge bay I saw the distinctive Clavell Tower. Built as a folly in 1830, it was used by coastguards and has recently been saved from falling into the sea.  It inspired the novelist Thomas Hardy in his poetry writing, who is said to have there wooed his first love at the tower, a coastguard's daughter.

The Clavell Tower - a useful landmark

Just inside the bay, I saw a red float in the water. Then some bubbles appeared, and I realised it marked a diver. I found out later that divers are frequently out in the bay, so one should keep a careful lookout for them.

I could see the slipway and the huts behind, including the Wild Seas Centre.

On arriving a warden helped me pull PicoMicroYacht up the steep slipway. He had seen me coming from the Clavell tower. I don’t think I could have managed on my own.

Kimmeridge is a favourite for photographers, having readily accessible compositions and dramatic lighting effects with the right weather conditions.

A good illustration of the power of the St Aldhelm's race is in the video below.

Rounding the Bill

Selsey Bill is a tricky headland to navigate because it has a series of limestone ledges stretching far out to sea. Yachts are wary and many have been lost here in stormy weather. Perhaps the most well known casualty is the ‘Morning Cloud III,’ a racing yacht belonging to the then UK prime minister, Sir Edward Health. The yacht capsized and sank off the Bill, the crew taking to their life raft. Two people died, including Sir Edward Heath's godson who was swept overboard before the yacht sank.

Selsey Bill on the left with Pagham Harbour infront and the Isle of Wight behind it. The Isle of Wight provides some protection from the prevailing Westerly winds, but not completely.

(from eOceanic)

There is an inside passage about a mile out to sea which goes between two buoys called Boulder and Street. This is reasonably safe, but it means putting your boat in the jaws between dangerous ledges, so it tends to be avoided other than in relatively calm weather.

The ledges of Selsey Bill - the chart highlights the 'Mixon Hole'  the segment of an old river gorge, now submerged, previously used by the Romans for transporting goods.  Boulder and Street are to the bottom left and there are further ledges out to sea not shown on the map

I elected to go close in round the tip of the Bill at high tide, so to have enough water over the ledges. 

It was all about timing. I had to ensure the tide was with me to the Chichester Harbour entrance. I also had to be at the entrance  before the ebb tide coming out got into full flow, or it would be very hard getting in.

The compromise was to leave Sesley Beach at about 1.5 hours before high water, arriving at the Chichester Bar about half an hour after high tide.

As I was launching PicoMicroYacht the tide was still against me, but it almost immediately turned in my favour and I was swept past the tip of Selsey Bill.

Out to sea I could see a yacht motoring through the inner channel, by Boulder and Street. The sea was not particularly calm.

As I turned westwards, a head wind got up and it was hard rowing. I passed a series of sea defences and behind this was a windmill, a characteristic landmark.

Although I had planned for a calm sea, there was a moderate swell and I could hear the roar of waves breaking on the beach.

Closing in on the Chichester entrance, the sea calmed under the lee of the Isle of Wight and I passed between two cardinal markers warning people of wrecks on the East Pole Bank, outside the harbour.

Looking south I saw the South Cardinal mark, with the characteristic upturned triangles, signalling  to ships it is safe to pass south of them. A bird sat on the mark, making the silhouette less clear. Being high tide, it was safe to proceed.

I was relieved to reach the entrance and find only a slight ebb tide. I was able to make quick work of entering the harbour and rowing up to Mengeham Rythe Sailing Club.

Just outside Mengeham Rythe Sailing Club, with full calm restored.

Passage planning:

Tide: Dover high tide: 17.30; Chichester high tide: 17.56. Tide turns west Selsey Bill – 1-2 hours before Dover high tide. Left 16.05: arrived at Chichester bar 18.20

PicoMicroYacht being sucked into Pagham harbour and avoiding a back tow

This was a small journey between Pagham sailing club and Selsey Bill, but not uneventful.

I set off from the club with the help of two members who pulled me off the beach whilst I was getting my oars into position.

Pagham Pico and Topper sailors, two of which helped me launch

I decided to skirt past Pagham harbour just before high tide. I got there early and as I passed the entrance I realised I was being sucked in, and immediately tried to escape.

The height difference between the outside sea and the entrance can be seen - I had to grab the camera, quickly take a photograph and return to rowing 

After about 20 minutes inching forwards I realised it was futile to keep trying. I turned to enter the harbour. 

As I did I spotted a confused area with what looked like surf fast approaching.

Anxious to avoid this, I ferry glided across the western side of the entrance, to the Church Norton Spit, where there was a counter current sufficient to stop me being sucked in further. 

I paused and realised it was the best to get out for a rest. I carefully attached a long rope to the bow and disembarked, tying the rope to a convenient post.

As I looked across the entrance, I saw how dangerous it could be if you were sucked into the harbour in a small sailing dinghy with no other propulsion. The area of confusion had a sill which was creating a large water drop and tow back. 

The risk was much larger than I had imagined earlier on.

The tide started to slow, and I got back in to PicoMicroYacht, letting it drift into the harbour.

There is a notice board at the entrance to the harbour. If you look closely you can see some new red paint covers something up. It used to say 'No unauthorised boats permitted' which was technically true except that there has always been a public right of navigation on all the tidal waters in the harbour, so generally there were no unauthorised boats that would not be permitted (interesting grammatical issue). This was probably why someone painted over it.

However, even though it is legal to visit by boat in the tidal areas, some respect is needed, so I did not linger long. I rowed back to the entrance against the diminishing tide and made my escape.

The area of relatively quiet water between Pagham and Selsey Bill has been seen as a lagoon. In fact, it was here that Eric Coates was inspired to compose 'By the Sleepy Lagoon' on a still summers's evening looking back towards Bognor Regis. There are many different versions, including ones with lyrics.

Dinah Shore singing 'Sleepy Lagoon' in 1942 - this version creates a strong sense of nostalgia, probably also intended for the war effort

Soon I was at Selsey Bill and a kindly motorboat crew helped me up the ramp.

The motorboat crew

Passage details:

High tide at Portsmouth was 13.47.   A westerly going tide was expected one hour before this, with approximate slack two hours before. High tide in Pagham Harbour was forecast to be about 14.00. I set off from Pagham Sailing club after 13.00 with the aim of arriving just before 14.00. The tide was still going strongly into the harbour and this did not stop until 15.00, when I was able to escape.

After this voyage I got interested in how a back tow worked. I found this useful video, which is quite salutary and perhaps should be viewed by all tempted to mess about at weirs.

The Selsey Bill Trilogy: Pagham, visions of angels, Jerusalem and mindfulness

This is the first of three posts describing a voyage from Felpham to Chichester Harbour via Selsey Bill.

My first row was from Felpham to Pagham harbour, just a long the coast, returning to Felpham on the same day.

Felpham is a small village to the east of Bognor Regis. Launching there is very civilised, with a good slipway leading down to hard sand at low tide.

Close to the slipway is the lovely cottage where the poet William Blake wrote 'Jerusalem' with the lines: 'I will not cease from mental fight, Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand. Till we have build Jerusalem in England's green and pleasant land.'

Felpham is mentioned in a Blake poem: 'Away to sweet Felpham, for Heaven is there. The ladder of angels descends through the air.' He claimed to have seen visions of angels on many occasions, starting aged eight years old, when walking from Soho to Peckham in London.

I didn't see any angels but was more preoccupied with launching PicoMicroYacht, having only one hour of fair tide left.

I decided to skirt over the reef at Bognor, due to the calmness of the sea. This reef has the appearance that some giant has sporadically lobbed boulders into the sea. Out to sea the rocks were visible and a threat to any passing yacht.

I moved forward gingerly, on the lookout for submerged rocks and circumventing them when seen.

Although there was some choppiness from the waves, there was no swell. A line of buoys marking lobster pots were at the end of the reef and I noted this for my return.

Further on I saw a post and the remains of a large concrete slab. This had been fabricated in 1944 to be used as part of the Mulberry Harbours to for the D-Day landings. It never made it across the Channel.

A head wind meant it was relatively slow going and the tide began to turn against me as I reached Pagham.

The sailing club announced itself with flags and a sign, easily seen from out at sea.

Beyond the club was the entrance to Pagham Harbour, which I reached at low tide. I beached briefly on a shingle bed in the middle of the channel, having rowed very carefully though sea grass.

The water trickled over the shingle bed .

After a short break I pulled the boat out into deeper water and returned, the wind and the tide making it a quick journey.

It took around two hours to reach Pagham, and the return was in about one hour.

I had captured the sound of the water over the shingle, a sort of mindfulness experience.