A Cold Winter's Row

On a cold winter’s day, I decided to row out into the entrance of the River Blackwater on the Essex Coast.

I was dressed well to keep warm.

As I left the Bradwell Marina, I passed some yachts on their moorings, including a Lawrence Giles Peter Duck yacht, the original having been designed for Arthur Ransome.

I was then out into the estuary, looking upstream to where a light vessel was moored.

Just over a millennium ago, between two and four thousand Viking raiders sailed through this stretch of water, reaching Maldon and doing battle with Saxon Warriors, pitching their arrows and spears against the Saxon’s mighty shield walls.

I could imagine how the Vikings arrived in relatively small boats, with perhaps an east wind blowing them gently up the estuary.

Looking out to sea and on my starboard bow was the Bradwell Nuclear Power Station.

Close by on the bank a family were walking their two dogs.

As the afternoon wore on, it was getting very cold and I turned back.

A golden and then deep orange sky awaited me as the sun dropped to the horizon.

The Jurassic Coast: It's Bat's Head, but is it Art?

In the past few days an unusually high pressure settled over the UK, the barometer reaching 1050 millibars, the highest recorded since 1957.

High pressure was caused by a massively fast Jet stream in the mid-Atlantic, recorded as 238 miles per hour. The jet stream hit slower air over the UK and a pile-up ensued, accounting for the high pressure.

With the sea calm, little wind and a neap tide, I decided to continue with the Jurasic Coast adventure on the Dorset Coast.  I had to skip the first five miles due to the firing range just beyond Kimmeridge.

I started at Lulworth Cove. In the winter when the visitors are few and the cove is empty of visiting yachts, this is one of the more beautiful spots on the South Coast.

It was formed due to a coastal wall of hard limestone being breached by the sea. The waves forced through and refracted outwards, wearing down the softer rock behind and resulting in a bowl-shaped natural harbour.

The limestone is Portland stone, this type used to build many iconic building, including Buckingham Place, St Pauls Cathedral and even parts of the United Nations Building in New York.

It was a surprisingly short distance between launching and exiting the cove, the entrance flanked by the remains of the wall.

The west side of Lulworth Cove

A light easterly wind made it easy work going west and the sea remained calm.

Out to sea was a Royal Navy vessel on exercises.

I could see the Isle of Portland in the distance.

A close up revealed the lighthouse.

The next major landmark was Durdle Door, again formed from hard limestone. From the sea, it looks even more like a door, the 'Durdle' derived from an ancient word meaning ‘drill’ or ‘hole.’

Durdle Door camouflaged by the cliff behind

Beyond Durdle Door is Bat's Head, a structure flanked by two arching chalk cliffs, the wings of the bat, dominating Weymouth Bay as seen from the sea.

Bat's Head - the 'head' towards the left

I was struck by how much Bat's Head and the surrounding cliff looks like a modern work of art. As I rowed on, I pondered on whether nature can ever be called art and the different viewpoints on this matter.

At this point my camera stopped due to the excessive cold. As a backup I got out my smart phone, which  I found was also not working.

PicoMicroYacht eventually entered Weymouth Harbour.

The voyage:

Later on I found various suggestions to keep a mobile phone going in the cold:

Wrap it up with an insulating material

Use a thermal protective pouch

Use a hand warmer

Use body heat - I put the lanyard of my waterproof phone pouch round my neck and push the phone down my inner shirt

Checking the chains

As well as PicoMicroYacht voyaging I enjoy being a member of a sailing club. The other day  I was helping check the club moorings, having a larger boat on one of them.

The moorings have buoys attached by chains to large concrete blocks embedded in the mud at the bottom of a creek. The chains wear out either due to chafing or rusting and have to be checked regularly.

It is a muddy business, involving using a barge to winch up the chains, and sometimes going overboard to dig down into the mud.

To get to the barge we rowed down the creek in a small dinghy, trying not run aground. We then  manoeuvred the barge into position using oars and started checking the chains.

All of this took me back in my imagination to a bygone era of hand operated barges, used throughout the ages.

A river landscape with figures in a ferry, barges and rowing boats 
Salomon van Rusdael  ca. 1644


Finding the swatchway on the way to the barge

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.