The only worrying aspect to the forecasts - and worryingly consistent they were, too - was the threat of winds gusting to 38 knots. By the morning of the day itself, the Met Office "Marinecall" forecast was even threatening F7 by midnight.
Which was all a bit worrying given that we were due to cast off at 1530...
I reached the marina an hour or so early, expecting to find the tide in full ebb. But the tide remained obdurately high, no doubt as a result of the low pressure and the strong winds blowing up the river from Southampton Water. The marina was, as ever in strong winds, an unnerving place to be, halyards frapping and the wind whistling through the rigging.
Roger arrived dead on time, at which point the water level had changed not at all, and we opted to get going quickly before the ebb suddenly realised it hadn't started and decided to pour out in the one-and-a-half hours that the tide tables said it had left to do so. Pretty clearly we were going to need to reef down. I suggested putting one reef in the mainsail; Roger recommended two, and as it turned out, his was the right call.
The immediate objective was for me to leave the marina singlehanded, and then to gather in the mooring lines and fenders alone while keeping Arabella under control. In stark contrast to the last time I had tried this, I executed a clean exit from the berth, using a spring from the end of the finger pontoon to my starboard quarter to help swing Arabella around and then, helped by the wind, motoring out into an empty river.
The ebb had set in here, with a vengeance, and wind over tide conditions created a steep, short chop. I was all set to motor down to Southampton Water before leaving the helm to attend to the warps and fenders, but Roger stopped me. "Why don't you do it here?", he asked, "Just motor out into the middle of the river, knock the engine into neutral, and see what she does?"
That hadn't occurred to me. I did as Roger suggested and, to my surprise, Arabella more-or-less held station, her stern at 45 degress to the wind, which gently nudged her against the fast-flowing spring ebb. Eventually, she would run out of "sea" room, but not before I'd had more than enough time to sort out the warps and fenders, which I proceeded to do.
"You might as well get the main up, then," called Roger from the cockpit, "Let off the mainsheet and get the sail up, she'll weathercock into the wind gently."
I did as Roger suggested, and sure enough, so did Arabella.
"Okay," said Roger, "So, let's take stock - you're now all ready to motor off down river, and you've got everything done not fifty yards from your marina berth. I'm not suggesting you'd want to short-tack down the river on your own in these conditions, but on a calmer day with the wind from the right direction, you could be unfurling the genoa right now and sailing off."
As usual, he was right. We decided that was enough pretend singlehanding for a bit, and unfurled the genoa anyway, and short-tacked our way down river and out onto Southampton Water. Arabella's rigging had - finally - been adjusted by the on-site riggers at the marina. There was a noticeable improvement in her pointing and powering ability, even with two reefs in the main.
"Okay," said Roger, "So, let's take stock - you're now all ready to motor off down river, and you've got everything done not fifty yards from your marina berth. I'm not suggesting you'd want to short-tack down the river on your own in these conditions, but on a calmer day with the wind from the right direction, you could be unfurling the genoa right now and sailing off."
As usual, he was right. We decided that was enough pretend singlehanding for a bit, and unfurled the genoa anyway, and short-tacked our way down river and out onto Southampton Water. Arabella's rigging had - finally - been adjusted by the on-site riggers at the marina. There was a noticeable improvement in her pointing and powering ability, even with two reefs in the main.
Once we were safely past an out-of-control fleet of kids in Laser Pico's, shepherded with increasing desperation by a teacher in a rib whilst being blown this way and that by F6 gusts, I suggested a coffee.
"How are you going to do that singlehanded, then?", countered Roger. Creative to the core, I suggested handing him the tiller, but it turned out the correct answer was to heave to. A very long time ago, I'd been taught on some RYA course or other how to do this, by in essence tacking but leaving the genoa sheeted in, so that it backed, then putting the tiller to leeward. I was also dimly aware that heaving-to was a good technique for long-keeled yachts, but not for fin-keelers, and I had no idea what a twin-keeler like Arabella would do. Still, nothing ventured nothing gained. I did as Roger suggested, and as Arabella hove to with surprising ease in the gusting winds, gently forereaching at a fraction of a knot.
"How are you going to do that singlehanded, then?", countered Roger. Creative to the core, I suggested handing him the tiller, but it turned out the correct answer was to heave to. A very long time ago, I'd been taught on some RYA course or other how to do this, by in essence tacking but leaving the genoa sheeted in, so that it backed, then putting the tiller to leeward. I was also dimly aware that heaving-to was a good technique for long-keeled yachts, but not for fin-keelers, and I had no idea what a twin-keeler like Arabella would do. Still, nothing ventured nothing gained. I did as Roger suggested, and as Arabella hove to with surprising ease in the gusting winds, gently forereaching at a fraction of a knot.
Above: Heaving-to (image "borrowed" from http://www.sailtrain.co.uk - hopefully they won't mind in return for the free link)
Once recaffeinated, it was off for an exhilarating sail down to Hamble and back, before goosewinging our way upriver to the marina and another successful docking singlehanded at about 2030.
The news got even better about halfway through, when the log impeller, which had steadfastly refused to free itself last time out, suddenly whirred into life and gave us a speed reading.
This was the third midweek day that I had been out sailing in four weeks. To be fair, the weather hadn't been perfect on any of them, and today certainly, anyone sat undecided in a marina would have been understandably deterred from going out by the sound of the wind howling through the all that rigging. But across those three days, I had seen a total of fifteen yachts out, as well as a smattering of dinghies. Amazing. It was nearly midsummer, and we had the Solent all to ourselves.
Conditions: WSW F5-6. Heavy overcast. Sea state slight, some chop.
Distance covered (GPS over ground): 13.4 NM
Total distance covered to date (2008): 32.26 NM
Engine hours: 0.5 (total for 2008: 3.7)
