The Joy of Caravanning

We all know the pleasure that sailing brings, the weeks afloat that pass by so slowly that you return home feeling as if months have been consumed in a lazy idyll. And we have seen the sailing magazines that show sun-kissed bodies prostrate on boats floating on azure seas. So who would not want to spend their holiday rejuvenating aboard a yacht?

Having discussed a 2014 sailing holiday in France with Bryn and Gavin I was pleased when they both agreed that it was a good idea and were keen to act as crew on Touchdown, a Degero DS331.

Having been between jobs for a while Gav was keen to spend a few months exploring Brittany whilst Bryn would be available for 10 days or so. With his work roster limiting his free time he was also keen to explore France by motorbike with his partner Paula so it seemed sensible to tie the two events together.

Having constructed a plan Normandy 70 (NL70) was advertised and it seemed too good an opportunity to miss, so we adopted the plan to be in Ouisterham for the D-Day celebrations before heading off to Brittany. As is always the case the plan altered further when Gav was offered a job and, having thought about turning the offer down, made the sensible decision and had to limit his time on board to just two weeks and would return to UK on completion of NL70.

Gav and I departed Portland late May, having to motor initially before the forecast wind kicked in and we had a decent beam reach with Touchdown flying along in ideal conditions for a crossing to Cherbourg. As the 63nm trip would take about 12 hours the nav plan ignored tidal drift and we just offset left 2 degrees of the direct track to ensure we were a couple of miles up current of the eastern entrance to Cherbourg harbour.

As we sat back to enjoy the trip HMS Bulwark called up on channel 74 with details of a live firing out to 21nm centred on her position. After the second warning transmission I just about managed to copy all the information and plotted our track as passing just outside their extremely large danger area.

One benefit of an early start – sunrise at WPNSA A couple of yachts making for Alderney started a conversation on VHF and were obviously concerned as their track would put them inside the 21nm radius and after a 10 minute discussion on the radio they decided to try to get more information from HMS Bulwark.

What followed on channel 74 was worthy of a ‘Two Ronnies’ sketch as the Yeoman on HMS Bulwark was obviously not used to talking to the crews of yachts trying to make notes and plot range and bearings on a paper chart as their vessel bounced around in moderate seas.

It made us wonder why RN ships seem to assume that yachts have a fully manned ops room with crew available to instantly change frequency and write down their transmissions, which are usually made far too quickly. It would make life easier for us non-professional and short staffed boat crews if they slowed down their transmissions and included an arc of firing in such circumstances.

At least it gave us 30 minutes of entertainment to help to pass the time. The next excitement was 20 miles north of Cherbourg when the MV Baltic Reefer decided that ‘Might is Right’ and we had to harden up to avoid being run down. It’s always good to exercise the body’s muscles but at my age the heart could do with a little less of a challenge!

Needless to say we arrived in Cherbourg in good order, the spring tide meaning that we had covered 80 water miles to make the crossing in 12 hours. We dropped anchor outside the marina and settled down to dinner and a celebratory dram. Unfortunately the celebrations were somewhat muted as when I switched my telephone on to check with the boss back home I received a text telling me that I had left Bryn and Paula’s clothes behind (travelling on motorbikes they had dropped off the majority of their clothing needed for the 10 day trip at my house so I could carry them over on Touchdown).

They were due to arrive the next day so Gav and I looked at the possibility of a day trip back by ferry to pick up the cases before ringing Bryn to make a plan of action. On hearing my news Bryn just burst into laughter, my news being the icing on the cake to their day. In travelling down to their hotel, close to the Channel Tunnel for the night, they had been caught in the worst thunderstorm of the summer. They and all their belongings were drenched through and they were presently in their hotel room trying to dry out their riding suits and boots with a hair drier so they could continue the next day in reasonable comfort.

We agreed that I had enough clothing on board to meet most of their requirements but the next morning we motored into the marina and sorted out the boat before heading off to Carrefour to buy new toiletries and bedding for my guests. Being blokes the shock of having to do a shopping trip could only be alleviated by exploring the waterfront on the way back to the marina and with so many cafes and bars available it seemed churlish not to sample some of the culture of the town. Gav showed an aptitude in the local lingo that made me regret my decision to choose music instead of French at school (we could not do both in those days – and I am rubbish at the violin too!). The view of Cherbourg harbour from the WWII museum

Cherbourg offers all the facilities of a major port with excellent marina facilities (with a discount for RNSA members), easy access in any weather and all the attractions of a large town with good shopping and tourist attractions to fill the days when weather bound. The submarine museum is a full day out and if you fancy a decent walk the tunnels and WWII museum above the town are both worth a visit.

When Bryn and Paula turned up later I received some deserved ribbing but once we had sorted out the supply chain problems the on board refreshments soon had us all in the right mood, looking forward to a short trip to Alderney the next morning.

Taking advantage of the inshore back eddy that runs for a couple of hours before the main westerly flow kicks in saw us making decent time to Braye, tying up to a buoy in good time to get ashore and utilise the adequate ablutions (Gav and Bryn were both in the RAF and find it hard to understand terminology such as ‘Heads’ and ‘Shower Block’) before heading off to explore the Island.

Mainbrayce chandlers in Little Crabby Harbour were having a sale on their already reduced prices (when compared to UK) and so Bryn took the opportunity to buy some very smart foulies and we ordered some duty free spirits, to be picked up in the morning when we were to refuel (also at duty free prices).

Seeming to step back in time, we took a hike up the hill to St Anne before a scenic walk back, taking in the picturesque views out over the rocks and the Channel. Rea’s Bistro provided excellent food and sustenance, allowing us to make the final 400 metres back to the harbour and a return to Touchdown without incident.

A relatively early start the next morning saw us in Cherbourg mid-morning, tying up next to Opus of Mudford Sock who had arrived as vanguard to the Portland flotilla heading for Ouisterham. Richard Stevens had negotiated a further reduction for the RNSA ‘rally’ members staying in Cherbourg as the majority were planning on meeting there before heading east in company. As their transit included a night anchored offshore, inside the Mulberry harbour at Arromarche, we had planned our own itinerary in order to explore a couple of smaller French harbours and to lie alongside each night in order to provide a bed for Bryn and Paula. We enjoyed pre-dinner cocktails on Opus before heading into town where Richard led us to a very fine restaurant that turned out to be a superb choice (thank you Richard). After a lovely evening and some excellent food we headed back, deciding to decline the option of a late night as Gav and I were heading off early for St Vaast-la-Hougue, whilst the motorcyclists were to explore the Cotentin Peninsula, the next day.

With a bright blue sky, a north easterly wind and fair tide we had a good sail up to Pointe de Barfleur, staying well outside the rocks. But we had the feeling that we had missed out a little as some local boats had passed us inshore and as we turned south the wind died and we had to motor the last hour to make St Vaast before the lock closed with the falling tide – anchoring outside not being an option as Bryn and Paula would not want to get their riding gear wet again with a swim out to the anchorage!

As usual, just before the harbour closes, there was a flurry of boats all heading in and whilst trying to stay clear of the locals my preparation for berthing was not as thorough as it should have been. Consequently, I was surprised at the amount of free berths on the visitors ‘E’ pontoon as I headed for the one closest inshore before realising that the majority were for locals only, visitors being restricted to the outer section only (there is a huge sign on the pontoon making it fairly obvious).

The entrance to St Vaast la Hougue

St Vaast is a delightful place but being a local holiday weekend the town was heaving with holiday makers whilst we were there. We decided to avoid the crowds and eat on board that evening, once the motorcyclists re-joined us. Paula and Bryn had enjoyed a good days sightseeing, the highlight being at the American Cemetery and Memorial overlooking Omaha Beach.

During their visit the American President’s security detail had flown in to conduct a reconnaissance for President Obama’s visit later in the week. On arrival the lead USMC MV22 Osprey had blown over 4 or 5 motorcycles, as well as a lady who had been rummaging in her car boot! With the boot being open the down-draught filled that car with soil and grass whilst covering the other vehicles in the car park with debris – nothing like making a memorable entrance. After our meal the night deteriorated as we started a post dinner game of World Domination (RISK). None of us having played it for so long we had forgotten the rules and could not work out why we ended up like Rommel in the desert in WWII – all our assets spread out too thin and a supply chain too small to achieve total domination. Finding the rule book the next morning we now know that armies grow when they win battles!

After a late start the next day was spent sight-seeing, the local attractions being augmented with information relating to the activities subsequent to the D-Day invasion. We managed to get seats in a waterfront restaurant after a short wait but the meal was only mediocre, probably due to the large demand over the holiday weekend. During the meal we formulated a plan for the next few days with Bryn and Paula deciding to move into a delightful hotel in town and Gav and I setting off (very) early in the morning to head for the delightful town of Hornfleur, some 61 miles across Baie de La Seine.

After my pre-departure brief at 0100 the next morning I think Gav would have preferred to have been booked into the hotel with Bryn and Paula but once out of the lock and into the absolute black of the night he could see the use of covering all the nasty possibilities of what might go wrong on a night sail.

The navigation was fairly simple being a straight line and the black night, with no moon and low scudding stratus blocking out most of the stars, made identifying the buoy lights fairly straight forward. What did raise concern was the number of flashing strobes that we saw. Twenty years ago I would have been tempted to go and investigate as a flashing strobe used to indicate someone in distress however, given the large number visible we decided that they must be pot markers and so gave them a wide berth.

As the sun showed itself we relaxed a little and enjoyed a simple run towards the east, the only point of note being the large amount of sargassum weed floating by that made trawling a fishing line impossible. Approaching Banc de Seine there were many ships milling about but most seemed to be anchored, presumably waiting for entry into Le Havre, and the rest were a couple of miles north of track and of little real concern.

What did require attention, apart from arriving on a rising tide, was staying north of the main channel so as not to impinge on the large container ships heading out to sea at high speed. We tracked along to the north of the main channel in relatively shallow water which only became a concern when we had to move further north to avoid four fishing boats engaged in trawling that were bearing down on us. Being in a wide spread formation they created a large avoid area that put us too far north and as the first two posts marking the seawall, digue Basse du Nord, were now well south of our track we had to start the engine to get back on track and into safer water.

This allowed us to track progress and get ahead of the required plot so that we would still have a rising tide as we reached the entry lock but motor-sailing gave us another concern - a vibration that was not normal and a larger throttle opening to achieve Touchdown’s normal cruising speed. As everything else appeared normal I put this down to weed as we were trailing some from the rudder stock, something to be sorted once in harbour. The entrance to Hornfleur lock is marked by the large tower to the east

The lock procedure was straight forward (full opening details, together with harbour information are available on the web site at http://www.cnh-honfleur.net/faire-escale-a- honfleur-en-anglais/lock/), and we entered 10 minutes early after the departing boats had vacated the lock although, we had to wait a couple of hours for the lifting bridge into the inner harbour. We motored around looking for a fuel pump, without success, and passed the outer pontoon, which offers a quieter berth than the inner harbour, before berthing on the wall outside the bridge.

As I engaged reverse to slow the boat, there was a corresponding increase in engine RPM however, there was no decrease in forward motion! Quickly opting to go around, rather have a crash stop on hard granite, and carrying out a short analysis of the problem it seemed that the folding propeller was malfunctioning. A second approach was made with a gentle touch and I immediately went below to strip off whilst Gav secured the boat.

The tourists on the harbour wall were provided with an interesting display as I jumped into the dark brown water (not recommended) to investigate the problem with the prop. Even in the dark gloom it was obvious, the prop being tightly wrapped in plastic forming a ball about 80cm in diameter. Armed with the ships bread knife I set too, cutting through the outer layers until I could unwrap the final few feet of material to avoid damaging the propeller blades.

All in all approximately ten feet of plastic sheeting, similar to that used for the wrapping of hay bales, was removed. A functional test was carried out which appeared to show no real damage had been caused before I headed below to the cleansing station and had a long hot shower to remove the muddy stains left over from my impromptu dip!

I used the remaining wait to explore the harbour and work out where best to berth whilst Gav went and settled up with the Capitainairre. Whilst most visitors appeared to be rafted up on a long pontoon there was a very small finger berth available at the end of the visitors section so decided that was worth a try as I am slightly challenged when clambering over numerous guardrails to get on and off the deck. Passage through the bridge was straight forward, once the operator had hurried the boats ahead of me into the basin – he obviously did not want to delay the road traffic any longer than necessary. I held off whilst they sorted out their own berthing requirements then eased into the finger berth which had probably been left empty as it was more appropriate for Touchdown’s dinghy rather than a 10m yacht.

Hornfleur harbour is surrounded by cafes and bars, the boats providing the main entertainment to the tourists taking a welcome break from sight-seeing round the old town. Feeling rather pleased with how the day’s events had worked out we joined the tourists and were enjoying some refreshment when a local motorised catamaran entered the harbour and proceeded to berth in the space between Touchdown and the next yacht. The space appeared to be 6 inches shorter than the catamaran but, by tucking one bow inside the stern of the other yacht and then using his two engines to pivot round, he eased in.

Gav and I wondered whether we should show any interest but decided that the last thing the skipper wanted was some foreigner offering unnecessary advice. Besides, the crew looked like they might be drug runners (I think that is always best to have a vivid sense of imagination in these situations) and we did not need any complications during our short stay in such a lovely town!

Before the skipper had secured the engines the crew had opened the Pastis and beer and a group of locals had joined them from shore for what turned out to be a lively party. The skipper gave me a wry grin as we wandered back on board as he realised we had been watching his display of boat handling from only 10 feet away.

The next day he invited me aboard and proved to be an affable airline pilot who had brought his floating home down from Paris to celebrate the birthday of his father who was too frail to travel to Paris. He apologised for the black rubber scuff mark on my hull from the conveniently placed rubbing strakes on his sterns. Unfortunately it was too early in the day for me to accept the drinks on offer as a form of recompense but I did learn a lot about life as an Easyjet pilot and also all about his other boat (exactly the same but with sails and moored in the Caribbean). I never did discover if they were running drugs but the more I learnt about the skipper the more plausible it seemed!

Touchdown in Hornfleur, sans French catamaran – the harbour lifting bridge is to the left of the carousel We met several RNSA crews from the east coast who were also heading to Ouisterham. They provided a wealth of information about Hornfleur, like where to eat (less expensive away from the harbour side and sit inside away from the smokers who have to sit outside), shops (small supermarket in the high street, large superstore 10 minutes’ walk past the shower facilities to the south east) and the nearest boulangerie (one street back from the harbour) – thanks to Coon for his help and spiritual guidance! Further information about the town is available online at http://www.cnh-honfleur.net/faire-escale-a-honfleur-en- anglais/advice/.

Some of the sights of Hornfleur – a pissoir, left and a cafe toilet, right (anyone recognise the lighthouse?)

Our visit flew by as we explored the picturesque town and all too quickly it was time to depart in order to meet up at the ECM outside Ouisterham with the rest of the fleet from Portland Branch, as instructed by Brendan Moore, PB’s NL70 co-ordinator. Given the forecast the rest of the Portland fleet were going to have a nice run downwind whilst we were looking forward to a good beat into wind. Unfortunately we were going to miss a couple of hours of favourable tide with the departure delayed until the 0830 bridge lift but we had all day to make the 24 mile transit.

The day started off grey and muggy with a fresh westerly. Tacking down the Chenal de Rouen was good fun as we had a strong ebb tide and the main channel to ourselves but as the wind picked up and it started to rain some of the attraction seemed to wane. A mug of hot soup with crusty French bread raised our spirits which soared higher when we started to pick up the radio transmissions from fellow Portlanders trying to check in, as instructed, as they approached the ECM.

It was obvious that the co-ordinator ashore was having trouble receiving the transmissions and so, as more and more check-in calls went un-acknowledged, we decided that trying to make for the ECM with the foul tide building was a waste of time. Instead I plotted a course over the shallows using the rising tide to stay close in over the Bancs de Merville, conscious of the fact that the events of 70 years previously would have left numerous obstacles in the shallows that could still prove embarrassing. The new track kept us out of the worst of the tide, allowed a better wind angle and kept us well clear of the grey warships conducting manoeuvres out in the deeper water. I made a courtesy call when approaching the main channel into Ouisterham and as I never received any reply assumed that the fact that we were 2 miles south of the ECM would not matter.

We dropped sails in the lee of the ferry terminal and joined approximately 15 other RNSA boats on the waiting pontoon outside the entrance lock. It was apparent that the lock timings were somewhat approximate as the locals tried to cope with the numbers descending in the invasion from RNSA branches throughout the UK. After a short wait we were allowed through the lock and joined the rest of the RNSA fleet to start 5 days of commemoration of the D-Day landings and subsequent events from 70 years ago.

The events of NL70 have been covered in great detail elsewhere and so, apart from the photographs below that reflect the atmosphere of the event, I will limit myself to saying BZ to those who helped put together such a great celebration – they know who they are – so thank you for all your efforts, they were much appreciated.

Arromarche - the Mulberry Harbour in the background and a preserved WWII landing craft

RAF Hercules dropped hundreds of paratroopers in four fly-pasts, the Parachute Regiment arrived in style

A Poignant reminder of the human costs and a striking memorial to the Canadian soldiers –

They gave their lives for our freedom

Royal Navy dressed for departure, RNSA dressed for the party!

The Assault Convoy Routes of 1944, slightly less complicated than the RNSA plan of 70 years later. After the celebrations were over I had to get Gav back to Cherbourg as he needed (I can’t say wanted) to catch a ferry back to the UK and his new work commitments. He could have caught a ferry from Ouisterham back to Portsmouth but kindly helped me on an uneventful trip back west. The day started off with no wind and brilliant sunshine but after a few hours motoring the wind picked up allowing for a decent beat to the west.

The RNSA exodus starts, filling the lock at Ouisterham

We decided to take the inside route round Pointe de Barfleur, a fairly simple transit with a large scale chart (or chart plotter) allowing us to avoid the rough water normally encountered on the outside passage.

Barfleur Light up close

Securely back alongside in Cherbourg, Gav and I headed off to celebrate the end of two weeks of fun before he took the taxi to the ferry, leaving me to plan my summers sojourn, exploring the rocky anchorages and rivers of North Brittany – to be covered in a later cruising report. All routes lead to Cherbourg – Touchdown’s various tracks marked by coloured lines