Wardley Marine Yacht Club sailors Malcolm and Simon collect the cup for the first sail over to Piel this year!
The barometer was high on this cold February Sunday morning, stopping the tide from reaching its predicted height. Come high water (11.15), Jamila was still aground in the mud. But, with her engine shuddering at full-speed astern in a pool of gurgling and bubbling water, her twin keels were begrudgingly dragged from her underwater shackles, free to go where ever she wanted. Out on the river Wyre, a significant search was taking place using helicopters and high-speed RIBs. Over the preceding week, TV news reports had beamed to the public at large an image of a woman with an attractive smile who had gone missing on the river near the upstream village of St. Michael. She had been missing for some time, and social media speculation on what might have happened was rife. Noticeably more walkers than ever could be seen treading the footpaths on both sides of the river, looking this way and that way but in particular onto the water. So, with a sense of morbid excitement, the two crew set off down the Wyre en route to Piel Island. The sea state was calm but allied with a strong outgoing tide and the iron donkey chattering down below; Jamila made her way at a steady five knots towards the mouth of the river.
Eventually, we arrived at Piel and looked for a mooring. We thought, “Why mess about with buoys and rope when there are plenty of muddy places to park?” So Jamila was put aground onto a patch of soft mud and left high and dry by the ebbing tide. The crew decided not to descend the ladder but would rather drink tea and do social media with a second-to-none maritime scene all around. The skipper, however, descended the ladder and climbed the glistening bank onto dry land for a round-the-island walk. As seen in the photo above, the precaution to drop the anchor was not taken. The skipper calculated that there was plenty of time to tour the island and be reunited with the boat before the incoming tide returned. And once back, Jamila would eventually float again, and the little wind that was would gently blow Jamila towards at least one of the vacant buoys out yonder.We did not think the Ship Inn would be open, and it wasn’t. As it happened, the new King of Piel Arran and islanders Don & Sharron had been doing a spot of painting. All evidence of labour was just and so tidied up when I arrived, but we all found time for a chinwag and a beer or two. It was a very nice but short stay, and once back on the boat, Jamila’s stove was stoked with charcoal, and the tilly and brass oil lamps were lit for the night. We spent the evening on board, with temperatures just above freezing outside but thanks to old-fashioned technology, inside the cabin it remained cosy and dry. It went dark around four thirty in the afternoon, as it was, after all, February, and the returning tide started lapping around the hull at around eight O’clock. Soon Jamila was drifting out towards the deserted buoys in the dark, and with a little prod from the engine, the crew went forward and took one. Safely tied up, we enjoyed a hash of tinned beef and baked beans, elevated from dullness with lots of finely chopped onion, sultanas, and Lee & Perins. A good bottle of Australian wine was found in the bilges to help all this goodness down the hatches. And it did not stop there, later in the evening, a bottle of whisky was produced and was enjoyed whilst looking up at a magnificent star-lit sky. Very soon the conversation turned to putting the world to rights, as so often it does on nights like this. As the evening unfolded, the uneasy excitement of earlier in the day gently transformed into a blissful calm. Eventually, an overwhelming feeling of tiredness, and the thought of an early start, got the better of us. We topped up the stove with fuel, blew out the lamps, and snugged up into our awaiting sleeping bags. With no time lost, Jamila’s two Lancashire lads fell into a sound sleep. But nothing lasts forever. After three hours or so, this was interrupted by an errant swell coming in with the high tide over Mort Bank, bumping the boat and jiggling a loose anchor up forward. The crew sat it out lying in their cots, and soon enough, the tide started its six-hour-long ebb, and all went quiet once again.
All too soon, it was four-thirty on Monday morning with the alarm ringing. We pulled ourselves into action with just a cup of tea and yoghurt, and departed thirty minutes later into a sea illuminated by a moonlit sky. Sunrise came around at about seven-thirty; see the photo above. Bacon, baked beans and crusty thick brown bread and butter were eaten on the move whilst crossing Mort Bank. All progress was made under engine as there was little wind, and handling the cold ropes and sails would have been hard on the hands. Feeling a bit soft and vulnerable vis-a-vis the elements at this time of the year, we maintained the stove and tilly lamp stoked with fuel, which served well on the voyage back, where crew and skipper could take turns in the cabin keeping warming.
Tilly Lamp
We duly arrived at Knott End-on-Sea and picked up a buoy near the golf course at 8:30 am. High tide was predicted at 11.30, thus a two-hour wait imposed by mother nature before going up the river. All went nicely whilst navigating the last of the flood tide. After entering Wardley’screek, the skipper positioned Jamila perfectly by the jetty and was duly complemented by the crew. In fact, it was the mud that should take the glory, for it was the mud that stopped the boat perfectly on station, so that the ropes could be tied easily and at our leisure. As soon as the docking chores were completed, the crew took off rather too quickly, but a little later, the skipper was pleasantly surprised by a deliciously served luncheon of clubhouse-cooked cheese-on-toast. Capital stuff!
In conclusion, we both had a jolly good time sailing to Piel Island and back, stayed warm and dry, met up with some pals, fed well, drank some wine and ale, and had no mishaps along the way. Job done I’d say!
(Above: our Commodore Steve Adams handing over to the RNLI the money raised at our Christmas dinner)
The Wardley’s Marine Yacht Club 2019 crane-in day was a massive success! Everything went according to plan.
Hats off to everyone!
Crew members waiting for the action to start.
Plenty of members came, and there was no protesting going on! Formidable looking ‘Les Gillets Jaunes’ characters were everywhere, but in the case of WMYC it was all a magnificent effort laid on to shift boats around a yard and to put boats in Morecambe Bay.
It was a tight fit, our crane driver for the day was the boss Mr. Daley himself. He confidently drove his big vehicle in and amongst our boats. As can be seen, he struggled to find space such was the crammed nature of our boat yard!
Crane assisted flying boats were soon seen hovering over head.
Higher and higher they got!
Jamila is next. No bumps and damage to the mast this time around.
Yo ho the drunken sailor! Well, not really, unfortunately the new mooring was laid too close to a big hump, which threatens the rudder.
A WMY crew member, early on good Friday, enjoying the last drop of sleepiness before the fun begins.
Two Wardley’s boats safely tucked away in the Fleetwood marina.
And finally a big thanks to all who lent a hand in any shape or form. And in particular, to our banks-man Michael Morris (directing the crane movements). And also to the wonderful ladies in the club house who supplied us with food and drink throughout the morning.
The first cross bay sail of 2018 took place just after the last Committee meeting. Simons B & E and Joanna set sail in ‘Raindance’ and ‘Jamila’. Just to remind you where Piel is :), I’ve inserted a rough chart showing the route. The course to steer as shown is set for a spring tide weekend thus we probably steered somewhere between the two headings shown. All was a little hurried! Simon E’s plan, as it was the night before, had been limited to doing some post launch jobs on ‘Jamila’. There was a little list of things to do. The mooring chain needed attention, the VHF aerial needed bending back following the launching mishap with the crane, and the sails hadn’t been properly readied for the new season. Simon B and Jo, on the other hand had already done a shakedown sail having come down from MaryPort just the week before. Now single handed sailing out at sea is always a daunting prospect particularly when the skies are grey and the wind is whistling through the sails and rigging. Finding the courage to drop the mooring and to allow the boat to drift way with the ebbing tide requires thorough preparation, check lists with lots of ticks, so that every big and minor detail is just so! Still I wasn’t to be alone, I had the experienced Skipper Simon B and Joanna (Jo has recently become a ‘RYA Day Skipper’ ticket holder.). Yes, I would be tagging along. I could do some of the jobs like bending on the genoa, putting in the slab reefs whilst under-way and fixing aerials. The ‘Simrad’ tiller pilot would definitely help out.
As you can see in the image there was preciously little wind and the visibility was down to only a couple of miles. A jenoa is large head-sail and bending it on to a roller-reef spar isn’t normally a problem with two pairs of hands, however today it proved very difficult with only one. The bolt rope in the luff kept jamming. I had to winch a little, run forward to align, run back, winch a little more, then run forward to re-align and so on. Tiring work, but slowly the sail worked itself up the mast. And, it must be added, all the time having to keep a lookout to avoid an untimely collision with the shore. Then all movement of the jenoa stopped dead! I tried to winched harder, and then harder still, then Bang! Something broke. Then I saw it. The cable from my chart-plotter was caught around the winch. Now chart-plotters are great, anyone can navigate to perfection. Well, I exaggerate a bit, but you always know where you are , you can see where you need to go, and you can avoid collisions with rocks and other obstacles. As soon as the sail was up, I dropped down into the cabin to root out my Garmin GPS from its locker. Damn, the batteries were dead! Where are the spares? Couldn’t find them! At this point I was following ‘Raindance’ out to sea, heading for the Fairway buoy, and you guessed it, the visibility was down to just a couple of miles. After about twenty minutes I could just and so see the Heysham Nuclear power station’s vast ‘white clad’ bulk but not much else! Right, time to do some proper navigation. I’ve got my Coastal Skipper’s ticket, so time to cash in the investment! With an old dodgy looking hand held compass I took the two available bearings. Plotted my current position. Counted the minutes until the Fairway buoy started to fade then plotted a second position, and finally calculated a true bearing to take me over the banks into the barrow channel. Poor Simon B and Joanna could not work out what on earth I was doing, … thought I’d gone a bit daft! We travelled together for a while, but suddenly I looked over and noticed ‘Raindance’ was nearly a mile to starboard. Soon I found out why. Out of the gloom on the starboard bow a dark blot started to materialise. It was Piel Castle, which should have materialised much further to the port had my ‘old fashion style’ estimations and calculations been better! I was much too far down tide, and alas I would have to start the engine and work it hard, using up precious diesel oil, to get to safety.
Simon B and Joanna arrived first in ‘Raindance’. There was one other boat in the harbour, but now there were three. It was several years ago in April when the crew of ‘Alcudia’, a lovely red Cobra 750, moored up for the night at Piel. It was just after the crane-in. The skipper picked a robust looking buoy and pulled the mooring line from the buoy safely up onto ‘Alcudia’s big bow cleat. The following morning after what must have been a blissful sleep ‘Alcudia’s crew, who happened to be the same Simon B and Jo, were woken from their dreams by the sound of plates and cutlery crashing into cabin sole. In the night the boat had parted company from the buoy and had gently drifted with the tide up beyond Roe Island and had settled at a precarious angle up a little mud creek. In 2018, however, there was to be no mistake. The buoy’s mooring lines looked a bit old and muddy with colonies of marine life growing on the end adjoining the buoy obscuring inspection! Instead, a nice new pristine length of rope was pulled from ‘Raindance’s locker and made fast, such that there would be no mistake this time around. Simon E on ‘Jamila’ grabbed a buoy nearby. Having had only happy times moored off Piel Island, he was only too happy to trust the equally muddy looking strops in order to get on with packing away the sails and to eventually paddle the short distance over to ‘Raindance’ for a planned barbecue on board ship. The above photograph was taken en-route in the Avon dinghy. The Ship Inn was closed that night.
Not a lot going on this clip, or was there? As it happened, a thunder storm passed by just beyond Piel Castle. We saw quite a number of lightning strikes. Some were the classic bolts you see in the horror movies, and some were like the one caught on this clip at the 8 second mark. All were followed by deafening thunder claps that had the three Wardley’s sailors laughing unconvincingly at each other. Our sudden bout of gallows humour eventually died away as the storm moved on further up the Cumbrian coast. Still, fair-do’s to our innate sense of self preservation, we did have the tallest lighting conductor in the harbour right over our heads!
Simon E was not as well organised as the crew of ‘Raindance’ in terms of ships victuals and needed the help of the Piel Ferry to get back to ‘Jamila’ after breakfasting ashore. Now, the barbecue aboard ‘Raindance’ the night before this photograph was a resounding success. Joanna had done an ace job ‘literally’ running around the finest charcuterie shops and boutique butchers that Fleetwood town had to offer. The food was excellent and the finest wines were served ‘grace au’ skipper de ‘Jamila’. And not forgetting Simon B’s story telling that had us riveted with his daring-do on tall ships in various far flung places. The morning was grey and overcast. Simon E paddled the short distance to the Ship Inn. Landlady ‘Shelia’ was behind the bar, and three lads who appeared to be in there late teens were busily warming themselves by the fire. The trio had camped the night on the island but the plan went awry when they discovered the pub was shut, and so no beer to drink, and, as well as tents, you need sleeping bags to go camping! Sheila and Nicola (ex army medic) were going their best to cheer them up with anecdotes of how much colder it was in Norway and that only the hardest of soldiery could put up with it. A big breakfast was ordered. Eventually King Steven walked in with a large plate of eggs, bacon, sausages and all the trimmings. After placing down the plate he plonked himself down on a nearby seat and we both exchanged news and views about what had happened on the ‘Furness peninsula Islands’ and ‘Wardleys Marine YC’ during half year just gone. Eventually it was time to say farewell. On the way down to the Avon round-tail dinghy, the Piel Ferry was alighting two day trippers . We passed on the narrow jetty exchanging friendly nods. The Skipper and crew of the ferry stood waiting for me. I pointed at my dinghy but they smiled knowingly whilst looking down at the Avon, and opened a conversation informing me that the tide would be flooding rapidly by now and that I just might want a tow. I gratefully accepted. They refused any donations for their services and posed for the above photo before heading back to Roe Island. The radio then crackled into life. ‘Raindance’ to ‘Jamila’ over! A brief discussion ensued. Simon B recommended a single reef in the mainsail would suit the force 4 gusting 5 that was by now blowing, and very soon we both had most of our white canvas high aloft, bellowing in the wind, for the sail back home.
‘Jamila’ was the first to cast off. The ferrymen were quite right. The tide had turned and was to prove a little too much for canvas alone. ‘Jamila’s Volvo-Penta was bought into play to maintain a steady 4/5 knots of speed on what was basically a close hauled beat up the Barrow channel. The Simrad autopilot’s self tacking mode made easy going of it at a time when there was no room for error given the fact that the hidden Sel-dom-Se-en reef was just off the starboard marker. The self-tacking goes like this: with the Sel-dom-Se-en green marker quickly approaching at about fifty yards to port, you press the autopilot’s red ‘tack’ button and immediately press the right arrow button. the Autopilot starts to bleep loudly. The crew then must quickly prepare for the tack, loading the winches and untangling sheets etc. Suddenly the beeping turns into a long continuous bleep and the tiller is automatically pushed hard over to the lee. Next the crew must release the sheets to port, awaits the bow to pass the eye of the wind, and then sheet in to starboard. By the time one finds the time to look up, the tiller has centred itself, and the boat is heading on the next tack – in this case towards the lighthouse on Walney Island.
Still a little behind, ‘Raindance’ was slowly catching up. She’s a much longer boat than ‘Jamila’ and the extra waterline length demonstrated the extra displacement speed she had available. By the time the castle was becoming a small feature in the distance, she was right up behind, both crew members were beaming a broad smile from behind the large spray hood. In a last ditch attempt to stay in the lead ‘Jamila’ released the full extent of her large Jenoa in the hope of scraping a few extra fractions of a knot, but nothing could stop the approaching ‘Raindance’. Very soon she was sailing along side, with her bows crashing deeply into the on coming chop.
Once the two two boats were side by side, cameras were pulled out from their protective pouches and pictures taken. Above are example taken from both boats. ‘Raindance’ pulled ahead and both boats entered the choppy waters of mid Morecambe Bay. The wind was favourable and provided sufficient speed over water to beat the flood tide, which at this point was pouring into the said bay at a rate of two knots. Time seemed to go fast at this stage. Soon the remnants of the Fleetwood Tower, marking the start of the channel-approaches hove into view. Both boats passed the Fairway north cardinal buoy and joined forces with the tide reaching speeds over-ground close to 7/8 knots, up the channel into Feetwood. At this point the boats parted company. ‘Raindance’ made for the marina at Fleetwood and ‘Jamila’ made a solitary trip up the River Wyre, under sail all the way, and was soon safely back at her mooring.
That’s all folks, the end of another great sail by three Wardley’s Marine Yacht Club members.
Spring is in the air. It’s Sunday 12th March 2017.
A leisurely club walk around produced some great images. The colour blue is creeping back into the sky. A whole new sailing season is now just ahead of us!
Members please note: the 2017 AGM will take place 26th March – 10:30am at Wyre Villa Football Club – Stalmine. Annual subscriptions are due 1st April. They can be paid at the AGM. Let’s all get together and talk about another great year to be had, sailing in and around Morecambe Bay.
Looking to the south.
Looking to the east.
Today there was a nine metre tide at around 11.30am.
Dirty boat 2016
Clean boat 2017
Let’s get out there in 2017!
A friendly base for Yacht Cruising on Morecambe Bay
