After a big night at the Anchor Inn at Hartshill the canal served up the Atherstone locks as a welcome distraction. Bernie was getting the hang of the locks by now. He’s working up to opening and closing gates, but he’s feeling part of the team. Eleven locks lowered us back to level water and we headed for Tamworth.
Tamworth was where some of Fi’s family had lived in the castle. It was nice spot overlooking the river so we dropped by for a cuppa, but alas the relos had left sometime earlier.
Tamworth Castle where we went to visit the family
The canal veered west tantalizingly close to Litchfield which had a cathedral and a Waitrose. We meandered into the city center paying appropriate homage to the cathedral where we brought a magnet and headed for Waitrose in search of chestnuts. A long walk only for our Christmas dreams to be cruelly dashed with the discovery Waitrose had run out of Chestnuts.
We left Litchfield and completed the last couple of locks before joining the mighty Trent and Mersey canal. A short distance along the canal is the place called one of two names: ‘Alrewas’ or ‘The hardest place name to pronounce in England’. We never did work out the correct pronunciation and suspect no-one really knows. Cute town and we found a friendly pub to meet with some potential Garcia buyers who had made contact with us.
Its a beautiful place even if you can’t tell anyone you have been there
Next day we ventured out to the memorial arboretum a short walk away. For once the English foot path system failed us and we had and exciting dash across a 6 lane road. I suspect not many people make it by foot as they tried to charge us for car parking and seemed quite surprised that we had arrived by canal and foot. Plenty of memorials and stories here as you meander through the woodlands.
After a U turn we were heading North again on the Trent and Mersey. The locks at Fradley junction have lowest bridges at the end of each lock. Canal boating is not a tall persons activity…
Lots of canals are closed for maintenance at this time of year and indeed one of these closures at Great Harwood would stop us going north until December 17th. Close to the closure was Shrugborough Estate and an area of outstanding national beauty.
Nice cottage mum, can we live here?Lets not be here after dark when these trees come alive.English sense of humour?All this walking is soo tiring
With the canal works completed the path north was open and Stoke-on-Trent was beckoning.
Could it be anywhere else?The English sure know how to dress up a garden. There are some fantastic examples all along the canal. This one had an unusual twist on the Christmas theme.
Whilst we filled up with water in Stone, Fi and Bernie discovered a shop selling the best meat pies, scones, quiches and vegies in the UK. We stayed the night in a quiet field and awoke to a misty morning.
MorningBeautiful iron bridges in this areaBernie opens another lock
At last the countryside subsided and Stoke-on-Trent revealed itself.
Lets find another spot to stay the night
Next time we try to fit the boat through a tunnel that’s too small for it…
We had various ideas for what to do in the winter. Firstly we were planning very seriously to be in Scotland on Away, enjoying some highland winter walking and the occasional sail around, but that has been postponed until next year for a number of reasons (visas, timing etc).
A frosty and slippery Away – winter is here.
Once we realised that our dreams of finding Bernie the perfect snow covered Scottish peak were on hold for this winter, we decided that perhaps the best thing we could do would be to go and find snow in England via the beautiful British canal system – so we have hired a 60ft narrowboat for 2 months, and we have put Away to bed in Eastbourne.
Away all packed up for a few weeks.
We started in Fenny Compton, northwest of London, southeast of Birmingham, on a chilly afternoon on the 1st of December. Sufficiently introduced to “The Earl” (our new floating home) by late afternoon, we put our things away, prepared to leave and naturally went to the pub. A friend told us that canal boating is just travelling from pub to pub – so we figured, when in Rome, and began our new adventure with a pint.
We are in this general area in England.Our temporary home – 60ft, 7ft wide.
Our first day, we awoke to the most beautiful dusting of snow. It seems a good omen that our little trip will hopefully be fruitful in our quest to get Bernie neck deep in some powder.
The lines were frozen solid when we went to take them off to get going, but we had plenty of coal for the fire
We had previously been on the canals and so we had a fair idea of what to expect. Walking pace travelling, interspersed with lock loading/unloading exercise, and chasing the dog back on the boat (this was new…).
We meandered north over the coming days, stopping next to fields with cows for company in the evenings. Sitting next to the fire at night listening to the rain, working on some crochet, cosy and warm with an exhausted spaniel at my feet and a glass of French Bordeaux in my hand, is my current idea of heaven.
Yes its cold, and its so beautiful.Coal fireAbsolutely INSISTED that he needed to come up…Clearly has no concept of his size.I thought this was hilarious, which naturally has encouraged this behaviour.I don’t care.
We took the opportunity to catch up with some ex workmates at – you guessed it – a pub on the Saturday (namely the Admiral Nelson at Braunston). They were lovely enough to share some wonderful photos – please give @red72mini a follow on Instagram if you are keen to see some amazing car pictures.
Go check out @red72mini on insta!Adrian being ever the strong serious type, and me being a dufuss. A happy one though!I snapped this pic as we turned right into Braunston. Absolutely gorgeous.
Bernie is taking to canal life like a duck to water. He’s desperately wanting to understand swans, but they just hiss in his face and confuse him more, and he’s loving running around in the mud – not so much the inevitable wash off afterwards.
Trying to talk sense to a spaniel…
And I am finally fulfilling my desire to put cute jackets on him, as standing still in the cold and damp while we motor along is very cold and he is getting cold. The top temperatures don’t go over 5 degrees C, and are mostly around 1-3 degrees C. Combine that with some drizzle, and we’re all very grateful for the heating on the boat!
These are his pyjamas…This is his waterproof and warm jumpsuit raincoat.This is his dry-za-bone.And this is his “puffy jacket”.
As its winter, the canals have many closures for maintenance, and we have only 1 route north open to the Peak district where we hope to find some really great walking. We have already woken to ice on the canal and a cold snap will make progress difficult. Will we get iced in or will Bernie reach the snow covered peaks before Christmas?
A beautiful winters morningI took the opportunity for a good dog walk in the sun while Adrian drove the boat. Pretty convenient.
Pubs Bernie visited in our first week:
The Wharf Inn – Fenny Compton (dogs met: 2 chihuahua cross malteze wrapped in blankets)
The Admiral Nelson – Braunston (dogs met: another chihuahua wrapped in a blanket)
The Rose Inn – Willoughby (dogs met: Maltese, also wrapped in a blanket)
The Raven – Brinklow (dogs met: none)
The Anchor Inn – Hartshill (dogs met: 2 full size poodles and Bentley – the fluffiest puppy there ever was – Bernie was told he was so calm and relaxed – very proud)
As we moved east from the Solent the anchorages became more spread out and many of the smaller ones require you to sink into the lovely soft mud at low tide. We were done with mud. At Brighton, however, there is no mud, and promising only a dose of nostalgia as we had both worked there in former lives. The forecast predicted a single day of sturdy sailing weather to make the passage before a week of rambunctious conditions.
We didn’t have enough information to conclude if the Chichester harbour entrance bar would be too dangerous after several days of strong onshore winds and an ebbing tide. So leaving our mooring at first light we surveyed the entrance and decided it was safe to head out as there were no big breaking waves to be seen. It was bouncy and we took it slow to avoid any crockery cracking airborne moments.
Soon the sails were raised with some appropriate reefs and we were zipping along the coast albeit against a knot of tide. Rounding Selsey Bill and entering The Looe (why did Cook give us ‘One Tree Island’ in Australia when he came from a land of such interesting place names – even ‘The New Looe’ would have been preferable) required navigating between a port and starboard marker only a few hundred meters apart. The crab pot marker set right in middle of this tiny channel could hardly have been more maliciously placed.
This looks like a good spot for a crab pot
Fi enjoyed some downstairs time out of the wind. The view from here is surprisingly good under the sails and the added safety of being warm, dry and relatively fresh cannot be understated. Its tiring being on deck in the chilling wind and sea spray but some of the crew find a perverse enjoyment in the elements.
Apparently you can sail through this wind mine which must be an interesting experience. We spied a small yacht on the AIS doing just that. As conditions were getting more rolly we took a direct route to the marina at Brighton.
The marina wall has been designed to reflect the waves back out to amplify the incoming waves. The resulting turmoil with some good tidal flow can make entry quite entertaining. I snapped the photo below of the entrance channel just after we entered (left) and the same channel when we departed (on the right).
The marina is a healthy dog walk from the main pier. Bernie the well travelled dog prefers his beaches with white sand, turquoise water and shallows to chase the fishies. At least we don’t end up with a boat full of pebbles after a walk on the beach here.
Whilst the sea boiled outside the marina we set about revisiting Brighton. It remained much as we remembered it, although the new doughnut on stick was difficult to miss. The touristy pier and beach front look a little tired during the colder months so we spent our time in the little lane ways and cosy pubs.
Brighton turned out to be the place to test mooring lines and our fender configuration. We added to our fender collection and then watched as the wind and wave surges tested them out. After a day watching over the boat as the wind gusted over 40 knots in the marina, we were pleased to return to land and catch up with some former work colleagues for dinner.
More settled weather returned and a gentle drift along the coast was in order. We learned more about tides. Our plan was to have a small amount of tide with us for the whole trip. But a late start meant the tide was already against us and we kept getting further and further behind the changing tide and ended up fighting it all the way. Still, white cliffs, gentle seas and a short distance meant we could meander along and watch the world go past. This butterfly joined us for some sunshine.
The entrance to Eastbourne can be a little shallow and indeed a local yacht following us ran aground. Did we say we appreciate our lifting centre board almost every day? The Eastbourne harbour RIB could not free them but, fortunately it was almost low tide and so they did not have too long to wait to float off. These photos show low tide with the unfortunate grounded yacht and high tide in the same channel.
The harbour is inside a lock to keep the water level fairly constant. We are getting used to these locks although they are all slightly different. In this one the pontoons on each side are floating so you can tie up to them while the water fills/empties the lock. Its a lot easier than adjusting lines as you rise or fall.
The weather in Eastbourne is much more settled than Brighton with long periods of still conditions. A local told us it has the highest solar index in the UK the met office confirms its 2nd and holds the record for most sun in a month since 1911. One might ponder if this is like claiming the highest mountain in Australia or best surf spot in Switzerland, however, as the available daylight hours dwindle our vitamin D levels need all the help they can get.
No fender testing here
We reached our first pole during the trip. Not quite as well known as the north and south poles but significant all the same…
Eastbourne is one of the more sheltered harbours we have visited, with good dog walking close by, plus a supply of food and beer. We might stay here a while.
Our pilot guide suggested that passing the famous Needles on the Isle of Wight when the tide is running against the wind is an uncomfortable experience. A few weeks earlier we had watched the start of the Fastnet race in such conditions and it looked rough enough to spill ones gin and tonic. The race finished in Cherbourg where a competitor explained that his sea boots stayed dry even when the 12 foot wave broke over the boat as they passed the Needles… No thanks, we can get up early to get a favourable tide.
We were up before dawn and motored out of Poole in the dark. Leaving in the dark is easier than arrival as you can follow your incoming track. Even so we needed both of us on deck to work out all the channel markers. Once clear of the channel we hoisted the sails, headed east keeping a keen eye out for crab pots as the sun rose. Approaching the Needles we had a moment of excitement when we decided to put the big red sail away and it decided it wanted to head over the side for a swim. Fortunately we got it under control with only some minor bruising.
We sailed on past the needles and took the obligatory selfie, feeling pretty proud about how far we have come from our few first tentative steps in Sydney Harbour on a J24.
There are so many marinas and anchorages in this area, but we picked Yarmouth on the Isle of Wight as it was close, sheltered from the forthcoming SW blow and close to some Garcia buyers we had met in Cherbourg. After dropping the sails we motored towards the harbour entrance, although I realised shortly afterwards that our 3 knot boat speed was matched by 3 knots of current and we were stationary… hmmm, more revs needed to get into the harbour.
Docking was one of the more challenging ones, as there is a significant cross current in the marina, however we managed it no problem and didn’t donk the neighbouring 75 foot luxury motor boat.
Once ashore and paper worked we headed to closest pub, about 50m away, for a late lunch. We had great restaurants, pubs, fresh local produce and a bakery all within a few minutes walk of the marina. We soon came to appreciate the slower pace of life on the IOW.
Away trying to blend in to Yarmouth
Away attracted the usual attention. The marina is next to the car ferry and waiting motorists would pop over for a look and a photo. We met a local couple starting their own sailing adventure who took an interest in the boat. We ended up having a delicious dinner at their home on the south side of the island.
The other Garcia buyers brought their friends for a quick look around the boat and we were invited for a cuppa the next day. The instructions led us over the river and along muddy paths (Bernie heaven) and eventually to large Elizabethan manor house overlooking the river. Bernie was a little spooked by the robotic lawn mowers but soon made friends with the 3 retrievers that lived there.
We were also shouted dinner with our Garcia friends which was lovely. We felt so welcomed on the IOW and would love to come back to this special place.
We got the folding bikes and headed out for a ride across the island. Bernie provides propulsion… who needs an e-bike when you have B-bike? Of course e-bikes don’t chase squirrels.
Next stop was Newtown Creek only a few miles along the Solent, and still on the IOW. Choosing a friendly tide and a lazy headsail we were soon inside the creek and attached to a convenient mooring buoy.
5 sea eagles appeared and reminded us how much we enjoy being out of the marina. We went ashore for a look round Newtown which was somewhat quieter than its namesake in Sydney.
We also managed to spot the local seals lazing around on some rocks nearby.
Another walk through the fields and along the edge of the Solent ended at the dinghy which was now a long muddy slide away from the water… oops, forgot about the tide going out. As the sun set we quickly realised that the thigh deep mud was not easy to traverse. New plan. We carried the dinghy, motor and fuel tank along a long narrow wooden pier and dropped them 1.5m down into the remaining channel. It was a relief to arrive back at the boat with nothing that a hose, hot showers, a dog wash and a dozen heavy soil long cycles in the washer couldn’t fix.
After a couple of days in Newtown Creek the weather and tide provided a great opportunity to get up after dawn for the short drift along the Solent to Chichester. The Solent mid week in autumn is an attention grabbing mix of leisure craft, scary big commercial ships, ferries, sail training and racing. Add some strong tide and gusty winds and the trip was less leisurely than we anticipated. Must be fun on a summers bank holiday weekend!
These old fortifications mark the end of the mayhem, but as the traffic eased the wind picked up. The narrow channel leading into Chichester was shallow in parts, enough to bring Away’s centre board up for extra clearance. Once inside we anchored and considered our options for the night. The forecast had increased to gusts well into the 30 knot range and while we would be secure on the anchor it would be more comfortable in the shelter of a marina. A quick ring around failed to turn up an available berth big enough for the mighty Away, so we opted for some better shelter and a visitors mooring further up the river at Itchenor.
We were welcomed by the Chichester Harbour Master for the two nights we stayed, and took the opportunity to have some rest after our muddy fun, and the rolly passage in. We still want to head east, so we need to take the weather when we can so we planned our next steps… The forecast for the next week had become quite robust, so we really needed to get going…
With the family reunited on Away we set about making plans and exploring Portland. Bernie demanded a squirrel hunt and Fi wanted to visit the wool shop that never opens, so we set out along the old railway track up the hill to Castletown. The last of the seasons blackberries lined the track discussing if they would be better in jam or pies. We chose the jam ones and collected a bag of willing participants.
The headland overlooks a long section of coast and has long been used for coastal defence. We passed disused gaols, forts and quarries and arrived at the wool shop which did not disappoint. As with all English walks, a convenient doggie friendly pub popped up for restorative pie and ale.
Bernie and Fi worked out the route to the next pub and we were soon heading to our next stop on the ‘beach’ front.
All the best walks end in a dog bath and a clean fluffy satisfied dog…
Now in England we had to decide whether to turn left or right. We gathered all the ingredients for the decision: covid rules, visa enquiries, dog laws, sailing conditions, marina costs, mixed them round for a while with a pinch of indecision and decided to turn right. The latest plan is to cross the channel to Europe early next year and make our way north along the coast and eventually the Baltic.
Turning right: Portland (Weymouth) to Poole
News arrived that Away was to get some new crew: Sorana and Nigel who we had met in Bath (last blog) were mad enough to come sailing for the weekend and would be joining us in Portland!
Light winds on Saturday afternoon provided perfect conditions for a training session and a false sense of security. The big red sail came out and we soon had the crew doing all the work. Eventually the wind died completely and we puttered back to the dock past a loitering cruise ship as the sun set over the pebbly beach.
A relaxing passage along the coast to Poole the next day was planned over dinner.
The coast was spectacular east of Portland and despite its inhospitable cliffs there are nooks and headlands providing enough shelter for a lunch stop. Sorana and Nigel had walked some sections of the Jurassic coast walk which follows this section of coast and now got to see it from the water.
A rolly stop for lunch resulted in a case of sea sickness and Dr Bernie was called in to help.Poole came into view as the light was fading.
We rounded the headland which was a little choppy, but as we came closer to our destination, the seas flattened out and everyone felt better. There is a chain ferry at the entrance to Poole Harbour, so after some discussions attempting to predict its next move, we decided to gun it past while it was still loading cars and head up towards our marina.
We said goodbye to Nigel and Sorana until next time, and again, found ourselves with a pint at the pub. The winds looked good the next day for the short hop to the Isle of Wight, but we would need to leave on the middle of the night (ok 6:30am really) to avoid unpleasant wind against tide conditions.
We spent a few fun days in Cherbourg catching up with new friends and tidying up the boat. We were about to enact our complex plan to get to the UK to save our remaining Schengen visa days, and to get the dog into the UK – you might remember the UK’s very strict rules on dogs entering on private yachts.
Bernie staring at our lovely neighbours who just want to eat their dinner.
We packed all our things, and one very very early morning, left the boat and drove down to Caen and got through the plethora of paperwork to get on the ferry to Portsmouth. Little Bernie had to stay in the hire car, but we enjoyed a little shut eye, some food, some random quiz and some suitably calming live music on the ferry.
We got through the UK customs uneventfully, and we were off to our airbnb in the countryside. About half way there I realised that no one that we encountered in he UK gave two hoots about the dog. I wondered if we were being WAYY too straighty-one-eighty by following all the rules perfectly. Hmmm.
We had 2 weeks in the country. We walked and walked, ran some errands to the swindleries (read chandleries) and set up a few things to make life easier once we were able to get Away in too.
Our trip to the chandleries garnered this lovely encounter in Lymington.
The Quantock hills presented us with some challenging walks, fantastic pubs and a few times, a lost dog. Bernie has discovered squirrels. He’s never seen anything like them before and is absolutely obsessed. He eventually comes back. We also think he has discovered pheasants.
The first scents of squirrelsWell, that’s going to need a bath later.He’s living his best life.I’m very happy to be walking the hills. My new hiking boots are cutting the mustard too.Bernie is loving his world and fits right in.The weather has been magic. Rainy when its okay to, and sunny when we want it to be.Speechless. They weren’t bothered by us or Bernie at all.
We are also lucky enough to have family and friends everywhere and so we visited Langford near Bristol for a few days to catch up with friends who generously also let us stay in their gorgeous home. Bernie had a great walk on the beach on one occasion and I am living for this face.
Little bubba loving his world here!
Speaking of seeing wonderful people, we were able to catch up with my family as well who are living in London. They came all the way out to Bath to see us and we had a great lunch and look around Bath for a day.
At the pub in Bath. Bernie is suitably well behaved under the table – not.Love Bath!
In the meantime Away was being looked after by the good folk at Garcia and the few warranty issues we had found were being corrected – oh and I should mention we ordered a new room for the boat – its a conservatory! Well, its a set of canvas and clears for the outside area to turn it into essentially an outside room.
Yay our new outside room! Perfect for the cooler weather.
All the work gets done on the boat and it is signed off as good to go, Bernie gets put into a kennel for a few days (much to his dismay, but frankly at this point he can take one for the team), and we head back to France for our overnight stay – which is all we have left on our visa!
Driving on to the ferry at Portsmouth bound for Caen. We have only 2 days left on our European visa!
The Channel crossing is our next challenge in Away. We had timed our trip back so that we would have benign or decent weather to get back to the UK. We were planning to sail from Cherbourg to Portland Marina, which is in the harbour which hosted the sailing events for the London Olympics back in 2012. We’d done a recky on the harbour and felt pretty good about it.
We checked out from France at the cop shop in Cherbourg, managed a last minute French grocery shop (wine) and had an early night ready to leave the next day at sparrows fart (I mean 06:00 sharp).
So at 06:30 we left.
It was sad to leave beautiful France, but alas…
And headed out into the inky blackness, leaving the jewellery box of Cherbourg behind us. There are no crab pots in the dark, so we pointed towards our destination, and come what may, in 10 hours we’d be in the UK.
A low light photo of the darkness.Adrian caught the photo of the day when the sun started rising.
‘Come what may’ was one of the worlds busiest shipping channels, but we played this video game with life (pictured) that looks like some sort of space invaders, except its real big ships and our relatively little boat… We are the black boat shape pointed north – the big ships are the triangle shaped outlines. We navigated this fine. The ships weren’t interested in chatting to us about navigation, which is okay because being quite introverted, we didn’t want to talk to them either (although we did try to be fair).
This is the first channel of west to east traffic, then further north is the east to west channel.
And the 10 hours turned into 11 hours… and then it turned out we messed up the tides and currents, it’ll be 12 hours.
We get our “Q” flag out at the 12 mile mark so that the UK authorities know we have come from another country and need to be checked in. Is a plain yellow flag that we need to fly on the starboard side. This is the first time we have flown this flag.
Once we are checked into the UK, we fly the red ensign flag as that is the appropriate flag for the UK. When we were in France, we flew the French flag on the starboard side, and as we change to subsequent countries, we will fly their flag. It is part of the rules of being a seafarer to fly the courtesy flag of the country you are sailing in. We fly the Australian flag off the stern as Away is registered in Australia. Sydney in fact – even though it has never been there.
The first time we get our “Q” flag out.I’m so excited clearly
Oh yes back to our passage. Sorry everyone… the 10 – 12 hours will actually be 14 hours of motor sailing and getting in just as the world turned dark because we used the wrong information for the strength of the tide – but we got to Portland! And we have learned some good lessons along the way.
Beautiful scenery as we sail along the coast.I was willing the sun to stay up a little longer as we headed in to the harbour area at Portland.
So the whole family is here! And the authorities say we’re all allowed! Negative PCR tests, and Bernie has been collected from prison.
We’re here in Portland for a few days, and we are planning on changing plans at the moment. As usual.
We left the dock at Dinan with admiring onlookers almost as surprised as me as Away negotiated the narrow channel missing the bank and other craft by thrillingly small margins.
The first lock would drop us into the tidal area. If we had calculated correctly the gates would open to a wide navigable waterway. If not we would find a muddy puddle in which to wait for the next tide. Bernie showed his level of confidence by jumping off the boat as we sank into the lock. His name and a number of Australian colloquialisms are now well known at the lock.
The lock doors opened to a somewhat narrower channel than we had imagined, but it was at least navigable. Our 1.2m draft with the centre board up allowed us to negotiate shallow sections, although at one point our depth gauge showed 0.9m!
Hmmm, depth is 1m, boat is 1.2m
We arrived at the second lock just after the hourly intake of vessels, and were relieved when they re-opened the lock doors for us. We made our way into St Malo marina as the sun set over the walled town. After our first aborted attempt to dock, the young men from the lightweight racing boat next to us generously helped guide our 17 tons of aluminium past their delicate carbon fibre bow sprit.
St Malo
No rest at St Malo this time as the weather was perfect the next day to head north. We left at dawn, negotiating the rocky channel to open water as the Condor car ferry caught us and quickly disappeared north at 30 knots. We tested the radar which successfully identified a number of small craft not on AIS. At one point it showed a headland not on the map, made more concerning as it was on our course. We later realised it was the ‘glow’ of the local nuclear power plant.
The pilot transferring to the pilot vessel as the ferry leaves St Malo
We had been warned our destination, Dielette, was not much more than a marina with not much to see. With such an impressive recommendation we were not surprised to find miles of perfect dog walking beach complete with Baguettery at the end, and a cafe serving hearty end of sailing trip meals and sunset drinks. The following day the quiet marina turned into a circus as a flotilla of 20 yachts carrying handicapped sailors competed for jetty space with thousands aspiring Vendee Globe kids in their oppie dinghies.
Nothing around the marina…except spaniel heaven
The Alderney race stood between us and Cherbourg. The tide here can run at 9 knots which is a recipe for a very bad day out if its against you. We planned and replanned, and then talked to the marina people, and talked to local yachties on the dock, we walked the harbour wall at low tide to spot the shallow spots, and re-planned again. At low tide we couldn’t leave the harbour (even with our newly discovered shallower draft), but we needed to leave as close to low tide as possible to hit the race just as the tide turned.
Big red sail
All the planning paid off and we exited the harbour with 2m depth, and motor sailed to the race arriving as the tide turned. We even took a short cut across a shoal (usually rough) area as the tide picked up and spat us out at over 4 knots. The big red sail came out and we hit 10 knots over ground with only 5 knots through the water. No need to look out for crab pots as the current would flatten them just under the surface…just enjoy the sunset. We arrived after dark, but friends directed us to a free berth, helped with the lines and even fed and wined us. The perfect end to our Normandy adventure.
Sun setting our our Normandy adventure as we approach Cherbourg
We loved being in the relative comfort of the inner basin at St Malo. We could walk easily the couple of minutes in through the ramparts and into the old town, with its plethora of fish shops, boulangeries, boutiques and restaurants.
Away sitting in the inner basin at St Malo.Adrian walking in St Malo, just inside the main walls.More walking the streets in St MaloSo much history here.The cathedral here was quiet and peaceful.One of the entries into the old town.
We enjoyed some food and cider, and a few walks. We noticed that at low tide, it was possible to walk out to the small island called “Grand Be”, and then on to “Fort du Petit Be” so on our last full day at St Malo, we donned our dinner wear, and went for a pre-dinner walk along the sand. The day before, we had been here at high looking at the currents, and now to our surprise, at low tide, a pool had appeared, as well as the walking track out to the island. Pretty amazing place.
The swimming pool at low tide, and behind is the walking track to the island. At high tide this just looks like the sea.View of St Malo and the pool from Grand Be. Happy with our walk to Grand Be and getting ready for some dinner in town.This is Port du Petit Be, and you can see people began rushing to get off the island as the tide was coming in fast. This was a dry path 5 minutes ago.This couple only just made it off the island. They were the last people there and we all gave them a round of applause when they made it to Grand Be safely. But we also needed to be careful that we could get off Grand Be! The tide was heading in fast so off we all shot.
After our meal we headed back to Away, and did some prep for the next day. We had decided to brave the inland waterway of the River Rance. It took a lot of planning, as again, we needed to time the tides accurately to make sure we wouldn’t go aground. The extra complicating factor here was, we have to go through 3 separate locks (see last blog post for what a lock is) and we also have to contend with 2 different sets of tides, oh and 3 bridges that we calculated we *should* fit under.
To explain, we need to get out of the basin where we were docked, which was the 09:24 lock opening, which would give us enough tidal height to get to the next lock around the corner.
The next lock is called “The Barrage” which is attached to a tidal power station. The power station uses the force of the tides to run turbines. So they have dammed the river, and added a lock on the west side for boats. We were too late for the 10:00 lock, and so waited for the 11:00.
St Malo lock, to the Barrage lock
Because the power station tries to maximise the flow of water, they actually have changed the tidal range and times within the river. So the river tides are now different to the sea tides, and it is definitely possible for us to ground ourselves in the river. So we need to also align those times, with the leaving time from the inner basin at St Malo.
So going through the Barrage lock we need to ensure enough tide and time to get to the final lock (called Chatelier lock), after which we are then in the river proper, and there is no more tide. The piece of river between the Barrage, and the Chatelier lock gets very shallow and dries out. If we hit the bottom, we need to hope we got the tides right and it is a rising tide, if not, we would have to wait for a few hours for the tide to drop out, we’d sit on the ground, then we’d float again once the water rose. We weren’t 100% confident in the information we had, but we gave it a go. This is also the section where the 3 bridges are, and so the tide couldn’t be too high, or we’d hit the bridges with our mast.
The Barrage to Chatelier lock. This area got very shallow.
We did it but still not quite sure exactly how…. Here are some of the photos. The least depth we saw on this trip up the river was 1.4m. We draw 1.2m with the centreboard up so it was pretty close.
Adrian puts it nice and simply, if the tide it too high, we hit on the top, too low and we hit on the bottom.
This map is the Rance River and is not tidal here. It stays at a depth of 1.5m or above.Leaving the inner harbour lock, with 20 race boats.Stunning scenery.Its really scary going under bridges. But we had the data and were confident we would fit. We took it slow anyway because it looked so awful!So different to cruise in a river! We felt like we were canal boating again.People were looking at us and taking photos. We waved and felt a little bashful about all the attention. It was lovely though.
Dinan
Our final destination was Dinan, a beautiful medieval town on the river, with a thriving tourist industry. It honestly looks like the inspiration for Beauty and the Beast, it is just so stunning, so get ready for all the piccies. Once we were tied up, we went for a walk through the port area, and also had a nice meal. The old town is about a 10 minute walk up a hill, and so we were saving that for the following day and more energy.
Again I have to mention, the number of people stopping by and taking photos of Away and asking us about the boat and Australia was amazing. We were busy chatting a lot of the time! Someone asked me if I spoke English, and I misheard and replied “Je suis australienne” to which they responded in French that they did not speak Australian and laughed – oh well my French is getting better and better everyday.
View from the small bridge that blocks our path from going any further – clearance is only a few metres and our mast is 20m so Dinan is as far as we can go. Away is almost directly in the middle of this photo if you look closely. We are sticking out and take up half the river.A small river side restaurant and park.So many historic buildings here. This ones a little… leaning.Yes, that really is the marina office and the amenities!
After a good walk and decent sleep we tackled the hill up to the old town and were rewarded with the old town of Dinan being one of the cutest places I have ever seen. We walked up to the ramparts, and the tower overlooking the port and had a view out north towards the sea and St Malo.
Heading up the hill from the port. Cuteness overload!This is about half way up the hill to the old town. This is the gate through the old town walls.So cute. Top of the hill. We got some groceries and looked around.Gorgeous old buildings give the place such character.View from the top of the ramparts. Super beautiful. The port is on the left so Away is there somewhere. How’s the weather?!?
After our walk we also decided that the Garcia motto “nowhere you can’t go” seemed to have been fully tested here, given we couldn’t go further up the river – so we got in our dingy for a river trip. I honestly thought I was in a Renoir painting it is so beautiful. We even got to take our little dingy through the next river lock. The lockmaster was a lovely man who was only too happy to oblige emptying and refilling the lock for us.
In the lock, filling up fast as I hold on to the side.So so beautiful. Like a painting.There is a lot of these little buildings everywhere, and abbeys and farms. Just a stunning river.
At about 6PM we turned around, and headed back through the lock again, and home to Away. We had planned for a quiet day the following day as it was going to be a little dreary. We needed to plan our next steps again, because we have some commitments.
We need to get Away back to Cherbourg as Garcia have recommended they give the Away a once over and check everything now we’ve been out for a while. They also have a few items to complete for us.
To complicate this, our visas for Europe are also running out fast. We have until the 25th of September to get out of Europe. Oh, and we also have a dog…
We basically need to get to the UK. BUT, you cannot take a dog to the UK by private boat, which means we need to take him over on a ferry. BUT you can’t take a dog on a ferry unless its in a car, so we need to also hire a car. BUT you can’t take just any car, it has to be an Audi, VW or BMW if you go with one hire company, another hire company just says no and another said yes (thank goodness). BUT then we have to leave the dog in the UK somewhere in boarding.
Jersey would be easy as there is a quick ferry from St Malo (just up the river) BUT Jersey has no available boarding kennels.
Plus we need PCR tests, and Bernie needs extra medication before he can travel to be given by a vet.
Possibly this is the most complicated issue we have had to solve in our adventures thus far.
Planning day face.
We think we have solved it by planning to take Away to Cherbourg earlier than we planned, hiring a car from Cherbourg, driving the car to Caen, getting on a ferry to Portsmouth – and after that we have a little airbnb in the countryside so we can breathe for a second, plus add more time on our European visa in the process.
And we should have more luck with dog boarding in the UK.
So with all of that planned and most of it booked (it took an entire day) we were ready to enact said plan. First stop, back to St Malo, then on to Cherbourg!
We left, we left, we left, we left!!!! It was not a hard decision to leave the relative safety of the Cherbourg Marina, but it was one that seemed to take a lot of effort. It is quite hard to explain – its like the dock is magnetic and I guess because it is so safe and we were getting to know Cherbourg quite well, we were feeling comfortable, and we had to make that decision to again be uncomfortable, and to go into the unknown – but this has so many other benefits such as exploring, adventure and having new experiences. So one evening, we felt the winds and waves were okay for a sail away the following day. The following day came, and we thought the same thing about the next day, so we waited. Just till the next day 🙂
I navigated out of our berth, heart racing as I am still not comfortable with how big and heavy the boat is, and what the forces such as current and wind will do to the boat while it is stuck in a berth with only 1 or two lines attached, while Adrian is trying to detach them all in the most safe order. As it were, we were fine and we headed out from our berth at about 07:30 in the morning. Into the cloudy, cold, grey, summers day. We were headed to the Alderney race.
The Alderney race is a piece of water where the massive tides in this area run through. It can be extremely dangerous, and so understanding the tide and the wind is very important. It needs to be right. Battling against a 3 knot current, with the wind against it is uncomfortable, slow and can be very dangerous. We chose the time where the tide would push us through the race safely, and in relatively benign wind and tide conditions (around neap tides – the smallest tidal difference in the monthly calendar). Bernie likes to keep me company when we sail by sitting on me. At no other time does he do this. Perhaps he is satiating his nerves due to the race?
After dodging crab pots along the coast, we got to the race at about the right time. We still took a couple of hits from the current as it whirled around and grabbed the boat and spun it a little, but it definitely sounds worse than it felt. We were fine and have had worse. We headed south towards the Channel Islands.
We skipped through the Balliwick of Gurnsey, and past Jersey as we would need to check in to the area – and with Bernie, plus Covid, it is all just too complicated – best we stay in France for a while longer. Granville was our ultimate destination, and required some very careful planning again. Some of the spots we managed to sneak a peak at are absolutely gorgeous.
I would expect as a totally novice sailor, this area would not be the one chosen from the outset. The tides here are among the largest in the world. Granville was a tidal marina, and to keep the water in the marina, a wall (AKA a “sill”) has been built on the sea bed, so that at low tide, the water stays in the marina. We needed to time this perfectly in order to not hit the sill.
We called up Granville marina a few hours out from our arrival, and checked that they had space for a 45 ft heavy aluminium sailboat, and they did. They said they would even be there to help us dock – PHEW!!! When we motored in, we had enough water over the sill but the tide was running and there was a bit of current – so the extra help docking was welcome. We got into our berth okay, and to be honest, we went and found some wine as it had been a big trip to Granville and the tides and currents were massive, and sometimes it seems like the crab pots we are almost constantly dodging are actually attracted to our boat… It is tiring, and a tonic was in order!
With marina behind the sill, it means at low tide here, you can walk on sand, on the other side of the sill wall – I hope you can see the people walking outside the wall in these photos. When the tide is about 1/3 high, boats can go over the wall as there is enough water. So timing is everything.
On a side note, apparently we were the first Australian flagged boat they have had at the marina in their memory. We got a discount 🙂 We loved it here!
The tide here has just dipped below the wall. Eventually, everything at the bottom of this photo will be sand, with the marina and its floating boats behind. You can see Away on the right.Sand has now appeared on the other side of the wall. This is the view from Away.People walking at low tide at the entrance to the marina collected seafood.
Granville is gorgeous!! It was the seaside childhood home of Christian Dior and also a popular seaside resort town – and we could understand why! It was HOT! We had come from the relative cool and dreary weather of Cherbourg, to essentially summer! It was 28 degrees C and beautifully dry. There is a large fishing industry here, and we enjoyed walking the ramparts of the old town on the hill. We also got to walk at low tide along the expanse of beach that appears. People are collecting mussels, oysters and whelks for their dinner – or for their restaurant – we weren’t sure, but enjoyed all the shell fish. This picture is of Christian Dior’s childhood home.
La Plage du Plat Gousset at low tide. More of La Plage du Plat Gousset at low tide – it is huge at low tide, and then at high tide there is no beach at all!Some white wine and oysters in a beautiful bistro in a cobblestoned alley way in the old town. Filled with French locals – we were feeling pretty good.
After a few days, and of course the inevitable boat jobs, we were again finding ourselves in the evening pouring over charts, chart plotters, cruising guides and the “Reeds Almanac” (aka the bible) and planning our next steps. Here’s the thing – we were planning to leave on the biggest tide of the month – called “Spring” tide and the difference in height was going to be 11m. You can imagine 11m of seawater moving in and out of the area here over a 6 hour period is going to create some serious water movement. The tides here are the 3rd biggest in the world, and we were planning to go out when they were literally at their biggest. So it was with some angst, that I was looking at the tide charts and possible routes.
Leaving day came. The tide was high, the wind was from the south, and this meant that the relatively calm and safe marina that we were about to leave, was totally the opposite. The waves were coming in full force, the wind was gusting, the boats around us were bouncing around and lots of excited people were adding extra fenders and ropes to their cleats. And Adrian said to me “ok ready to untie the lines??”. To which I responded with the appropriate amount of… fear. But eventually, convinced that I was catastrophising and that we had options once we were out there, and that “out there” was better than bouncing around and hitting a dock, I untied the lines, and Adrian did a stellar job of driving out of the berth. Please note this serene photo of Away in its berth is not reflective of leaving day…
And yes, once we were out, things felt a lot better. The boat sails nicely, and we had a plan. Or so we thought. Some quick back of the hand calculations proved that I had overthought the planning, and my back of the hand calculations from the evening before were wrong by half – we were not going to make our intended destination with enough time not to hit the bottom on the way there – remember the tides are the biggest on this day, and timing was everything – and my maths let me down.
New plan – which was actually the old plan, the first plan we ever came up with, but then replaced with a dozen other plans, before settling on the current plan, which we are now replacing with the first plan – honestly, sailing is as much physical as it is mental – angsty!! Plan is now – lunch at a place called Iles Chausey (pictured) – a gorgeous outcrop of small islands, clear blue water and sunshine, followed by a leisurely sail south to St Malo, where we would time the possible 4 knot current against us perfectly to get into a massive lock to get into an inner harbour… Ok – to explain better….
Our new plan, which was the original plan…
Our boat sails nicely at 7 knots. We can go faster, we can go slower depending on conditions. 7 knots is nice. So imagine that we are going into a 4 knot current – we would only be going 3 knots which isn’t fast, or better yet that 4 knot current, is actually going side to side across us pushing us quickly sideways faster than we can go forwards – so yeah, I was concerned we wouldn’t make it so well. Already the day was pretty hectic, and here we were battling the massive currents. As it were, we saw a maximum of 2 knots going across us, and we crabbed our way in through the outside channels of St Malo. Its pretty weird watching a marker or a rock straight in front of you actually move sideways as you are technically sailing sideways due to the current. But we would make it to the big lock in time! Here is one of the obstacles we needed to dodge to get into St Malo.
As we waited a few minutes for the lock to open, I prepared our lines, and tried to work out what would happen – at time of writing, having successfully navigated the lock, I’m still not sure what actually happened. As you can see from this photo, I was pretty confident St Malo was going to be worth the angst.
A lock is essentially a small piece of water with doors on both ends – in this case sea on one side, and a safe basin on the inside. The lock keeper opens the doors at the basin side where the water is high, and lets boats in to the lock. The doors close, and the water in the lock is let out. Once the water in the lock meets the water on the sea side of the lock (where we were waiting), the outside doors open, boats go out, boats (we) go in, and then the outside doors close, and the lock fills up with water, until it reaches the same level as the inside water, then we can go into the basin. Which is what we did….
… with a giant tanker and like 7 other boats…
Did I mention this day was already pretty angsty???????? !!!!!!
Into the basin we went, and Adrian again did an absolutely perfect job with docking. We got into a spot that probably shouldn’t take a boat our size, and we didn’t break anything or hurt anyone so it is all good.
We were exhausted – and had a quick dinner and bed – and we found a bottle of wine, aptly named – Angst.
Bernie did so well, I always amazed at how chilled he is, and how a few quick cuddles with him can settle any nerves I have about tankers being so close, and shouting French lock keepers and tide and wind and all the etcs that go with sailing.
What an experience.
Bernie sitting with me on the port side.
Our few days in St Malo will be next up 🙂 Then planning for the next!
It was time to leave the dock on our first adventure. Sitting at the dock waiting for work on the boat to be completed was not satisfying, plus there is the age old adage of letting go of the dock vacuum, so we set a date and made a plan to head 35 miles around the coast to St Vaast La Hougue. The journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step, or engine throttle push as the case may be.
On a grey and overcast day we cast off the lines and Fi accurately negotiated our marina exit which has barely more room than the length of the boat. We set sail as the showers loomed and we pondered if the radar was going to be helpful. Thankfully the showers stayed onshore, the winds freshened and we zipped along the coast helped by over 3 knots of current at times. The sun even decided to grace us with its presence. Speed over ground was 10.5 knots.
Sailing Away began to feel familiar, in a way – Addictive had really prepared us for this moment. No longer was Away this massive heavy scary beast, rather it became much like my (Fi) first car, simple and reliable, easy to drive and responsive. A familiar friend who we could trust.
By late afternoon we approached St Vaast harbour and managed to negotiate a small berth without crushing too many boats… phew. We did learn that tying up docking lines is very hard when the boat is in slow forward. Oops. Thankfully there are loads of wonderfully friendly locals who are more than happy to lend a hand.
St Vaast turned out to be that picture perfect French seaside town. Fishing boats tied to the wharf, fresh fish sold on the dock and a suitable number of shops selling blue and white stripped knitware, and yellow raincoats. There was even a music festival on, and what’s not to like about a Dutch bicycle band serenading the port each afternoon. Of course in order to hear a whole song, you also need to be on a bicycle…
Our bikes and a Bernie trailer allowed us to cycle a few miles up the coast to a beach side lunch spot, and a suitable Bernie beach. A yacht dried out on the sand next to the restaurant… maybe us someday soon!
We found an old fort on a dog walk around the coast and even walked out to an island that is only accessible at low tide. The tides transform from oyster beds at low tide to sail training areas at high tide.
We enjoyed our stay so much we extended a few days, but eventually it was time to leave and so we quickly headed out to deeper water away from the crab pots. Away ate up the miles delivering us back to familiar Cherbourg late afternoon.
For other new owners picking up boats in Cherbourg we would recommend a trip to St Vaast. There are some challenges as the the race off Barfleur needs 5-7 miles clearance or cross it at slack tide as we did. We saw the race from land during wind against tide conditions with breaking waves miles out from the lighthouse.
St Vaast harbour is only open for a few hours around high tide (times on their web site). We tried booking a berth online and got no response. A quick phone call confirmed that there was space and to select our own berth on arrival.
Its a great way to stretch your sail legs as sailing to St Vaast means you are going around a corner. For us it meant that we tested almost every point of sail. We clocked 9.2 knots boat speed close hauled going into St Vaast in flat water. It was awesome fun. We did reef both the Genoa and the main at one point as the apparent wind increased around the corner towards St Vaast.
Tidal flows around the Barfleur race were over 3 knots and this pushes the crab pot markers under the surface so keep a good lookout. All quite manageable with some prep and St Vaast is worth the effort.
Its also perfect as a first trip because timings from Cherbourg usually mean that you hit the race at a good time, and then you will also be in St Vaast at the right time for the gate to be open. The reverse is true going back to Cherbourg.
Make sure you visit Maison Gosselin for some great wine and in house roasted coffee beans, and eat some oysters. The market on Saturday is great. Eat all the food is our main recommendation. Walk out to both forts as the views are spectacular and walking through the oyster beds is a real experience.
So yes, St Vaast as a first experience cruising on our new boat was perfect.
