MORE CHAIN

It was a glorious evening and we were anchored in one of our favourite spots just as you are leaving  the Menai Strait, the Caernarfon end. 

Quite narrow with sand banks to one side and lovely sand dunes on the other. 

The tide was ebbing quite fast and we were sat in the cockpit in our Contessa 26 having our sun downers. 

Not another yacht in sight when round the corner comes a brand new Fisher called Mr PXXXd. She slowly comes past us and moves ahead with a young lad at the bow ready to drop the anchor. A few minutes later she comes slowly past dragging the anchor and disappears round the corner. 

Five minuet’s later she slowly goes past again with the young lad on the bow and a gentle man in the wheelhouse all smiling. Again she comes drifting past and disappears once more. 

Once more she comes chugging past and anchors. 

This time, unable to refrain I shout! 

"PUT SOME MORE CHAIN OUT" 

and so they do until the bitter end disappears over the bow. Not smiling now they open up the throttle and disappear back to Caernarfon. 

I tried for two hours next day but could not grapnel the chain.  

Confessional

In 1966 I purchased my first small cruising yacht a Spurn 21.

We had just returned to our mooring( with our two children) at Deganway in the Conway river and were packing the pram dinghy with our belongings, two kit bags full to the brim,the SL400 toilet that had been giving trouble and my wife bless her said she would not set foot on the boat till it was fixed, they had too many moving parts. 

Also in the dinghy was the engine a Brigs and Stratton lawn mower engine that had also been giving trouble.You might think the dinghy was pretty full by now it was and it also had a Seagull outboard on the transom. 

We were just about ready to leave when my son who was two at the time started shouting lingley daddy lingley. 

This was about 2130hrs,no one in sight,river running about 3knots and three quarter ebb and lingley (the dinghy) was drifting rapidly out to sea. Only one thing to do, dive over and swim. I managed to catch it up about half a mile away and fortunately the outboard started. We got to the shore just before dark.     

Mutiny on the Irish Sea – (by John Williams)

Late 60′s. ….

I had been sailing dinghy’s of one sort or another since I was nine years old, my last one being a new Enterprise No 4406 and my boat at the time was a local 20ft three quarter decked keel boat similar to the XOD which we raced round the buoys.

It was at this time that I got the bug.

I wanted a boat with a top on that I could sleep in and take my family (wife and two children). Having just returned from a London were Rogers was showing his new Contessa 26 @ around £3k.  I wanted it but didn’t have the money.

So I did the next best thing.

I went looking for some one who wanted a crew (you must remember that at this time there weren’t many cruising boats about and they were all wooden). However as “LUCK would have it” I soon got a call from some one who had a 28 or 30 ft Hillyard who wanted crew so I had a word with my racing crew at the time and he was keen to try.

I must point out that I had no experience of tides, currents, except that they could be very strong, changed direction and strength and that the tides went in and out at regular intervals. I had had some experience in navigation and Meteorology as I had flown in the RAF for a short time.

Our first and last small cruise on the Hillyard  was to the Isle of Man. We met with the skipper and went on board early one Friday evening, she was moored in the Conway river at Deganwy (North Wales).

It was a lovely evening with a gentle westerly. We cast off and sailed gently out at about half ebb. I asked the skipper if he would show me the charts as I was interested in how you navigated a boat and I had been told that he had obtained his Yachtmasters at a UK nautical college, (I don’t think they had a practical in those days) but he just brushed me off and said he was too busy.

My crew and I were now beginning to enjoy the trip and looking forward to a good couple of days. It was just beginning to get dark and I asked about watches, “don’t worry “says skipper you two go to your bunks I will sleep tomorrow.

Just before we went I had a strange feeling that we should have been heading in a more northerly direction as I could still see the coast and I thought it strange. I mentioned this to the skipper and he mumbled something about light houses, try to keep them in sight and you won’t go far wrong, I get one on the stern and another on the bow and there you are.

Made no sense to me so off to the bunk I went, he was after all a yacht master.

On deck at dawn with bacon sandwiches and hot coffee for a very bleary eyed skipper there was Port St Mary (PSM)  Isle of Man four miles off.

Fantastic, after tying up I went ashore to see some old friends and my crew went to see the delights of PSM, I assumed the skipper slept.

Back on board the skipper was keen to leave so we cast off and headed for home. I should point out at this stage that there were not many navigational aids available no GPS, no direction finders etc we just had a compass.  Not sure he had a log, I don’t remember seeing one.

As before, no watches so my crew and I went to our bunks waking up to a very different motion. Putting on some wet gear we went on deck to be greeted by a very wet skipper,light rain and a fresh westerly, with low cloud.

After more bacon sandwiches and coffee we asked where we were, no comment so I went to the stern cabin were the skipper would occasionally disappear to and found his chart, no positions marked, no track, nothing, I started to get a little more worried.

After a short time a low coast appeared in the murk and the skipper immediately turned to starboard. Very soon the coast disappeared and at about midday the wind died the sun came out the visibility was fantastic.

Great but where are we  ??  again I asked, no response, well I said there is a headland let’s go and have a closer look.  It was a long way off but the only bit of land you could see.  No way said the skipper we stay out till I find out where we are. How do we do that I ask, no response. I had visions of staying out till night fall and light houses again.

My crew and I conferred and we decided to take over the ship.  We had started the motor at this time so my crew took the helm and headed for the headland while I got the chart and a pair of binoculars to study the coast.

As we got closer I could clearly see two masts and studying the chart it confirmed that indeed it was the Northeast coast of Anglesey. Surprisingly the skipper had made no move or comment on what we had done. The remainder of the trip went without incident.

Some weeks later I got a call from the skipper asking if I could get a week off and join him with my family on a trip to the south coast and Cherbourg. Needless to say I cried off saying no holidays left.  My mutiny had obviously not upset him.

Some years later I was relating the story to another yachtsman and he said,  I heard about that trip then recanted his story about the trip he had taken with our mutual skipper…,  ”we went with him for a week on that journey to the south coast and Cherbourg, his wife fell and broke her legs.  After rounding Lands End we sailed all night and there was South Wales or so the skipper said.  He was unable to confirm his position so he asked the crew to go ashore in the dinghy to find out where they were. On their return they said they were in Ireland”

Glad we had not accepted his offer,  perhaps the light houses were not bright enough for him.