Alderney

We were somehow relieved to have escaped the clutches of Cherbourg and, as we'd only had a brief afternoon visit to Alderney before, we felt that this was almost "new territory" to explore.  With no pontoons we had to pick up a mooring buoy just inside the breakwater and then a great excuse to get the dinghy pumped up to whiz over to the shore.

The first night, swinging on the mooring was fine, and we woke with plans for a cycle ride around the island's perimeter.  I was not convinced that both of the bikes, the rubbish and both of us would all fit into the dinghy but we did.  It was probably about this point we made our first real mistake on the adventure so far... we failed to get the weather forecast!   

It was a "fine" day, a chilly breeze but mostly sunny spells, just right for the cycle ride.  Tyres pumped up at the local station and we were off.  Beautiful sandy bays coupled with the satanic gun emplacements left over from the occupation in WW2 conjured mixed emotions as we cycled.  We ate our packed lunch on the beach about half way round and planned to pick up fish 'n' chips from the recommended "Braye Chippy” just behind the wonderfully named Crabby Harbour for our well earned supper. 

Cycling mission accomplished, as we reached Braye Harbour, we began to notice that the wind was somewhat stronger and now northeasterly.  A quick visit to the Harbour Master's Office for the forecast revealed our fears, a northeast F7 to 8 - GALES!!   We were in for a bit of a night!  The dinghy trip back to La Premiere was exciting enough and, having forgotten our money, there was no fish 'n' chips to boot.  Once aboard we began what I shall now name "The Longest Night"  

The Longest Night

It is probably worth mentioning at this point that the Shell Channel Pilot book says "Braye harbour is safe in all weathers except strong northeasterlies...”.  Oh, dear.  Another yacht, more heavily crewed than us was also in Braye that night, although whenever we looked out they seemed to have moved, as if in some desperate search for the most sheltered point.  For our part we knew we had to grin and bear it.  We were too late to catch a tide back to Cherbourg or onto Guernsey and although our buoy was nearer the middle of the harbour we thought that safer than being close to a rather solid breakwater wall.

We battened down the hatches and listened to the wind grow until the boat just rattled and shook to the accompaniment of the howls around the rigging.  For my part, the lurching, rocking and rolling of the boat took its toll quite quickly and with a couple of sea sickness tablets just lay down on the saloon berth, trying to listen to the radio to block out the sound.  Chris, who lucky for him never seems to suffer with any form of nausea, anxiously listened to all the creaks and groans, tapping and flapping like a mother hen awaiting the hatching of her chicks.  (Well, can you think of a better simile?)

The evening and night dragged on, punctuated by the weather forecasts received on our VHF.  Perhaps the best thing about the experience was that we discovered the brilliant Jersey Radio Shipping Bulletin, which is read clearly and slowly but not only that, they repeat it so you can get all the information you need!  One reassuring thing was that we were better off than the Channel Automatic Light vessel, which was recording gusts up to 49 knots!  There is always an element of satisfaction knowing that someone somewhere is suffering more than you!

To make matters worse, as midnight struck Chris' birthday began!  Not since his student days has he had such a "wild" night!  By dawn I still had no inclination to bring myself to a vertical position and despite the wind supposedly backing to a northwesterly the waves and swell in the harbour showed little sign of abating.  I kept apologising profusely as Chris sorted his own breakfast, cards, (thoughtfully given by our parents before we left) and lunch.  He even went to all the effort of attaching a stern line to another buoy in an attempt to make it more comfortable for me! Ahhhhh.  At this point Chris noticed that the other yacht was preparing to leave.  No staying power!

By evening the weather had improved significantly and Chris rowed ashore to get the long awaited fish 'n' chips.  Whist he was gone I rallied myself into making him a birthday card, a little boat with sunshine beaming down.  Wishful thinking.  The skate and chips went down a treat, as did the card, and both Chris and I felt considerably better.  Despite the fact we had not completed our planned exploration of Alderney the now religiously received weather broadcasts indicated we would need to leave the following morning to avoid a repeat experience of the longest night.  All I can say to the author of the Shell Channel Pilot is... You're right!

  Off to Guernsey

Our third night in Braye was uneventful, and with pilotage notes prepared we left Alderney with long lasting if not fond memories which could keep us going at dinner parties for some time to come!

As predicted the wind was easterly which was good for us once we had rounded the rocks off the east coast of the island.  The tide too, through the Alderney Race, gives you a fair old helping hand and so we reckoned on a four hour voyage.  Rocks safely rounded, sails up and we were on our way to our next destination, St Peter Port.

Last time we arrived in Guernsey it was thick fog so it was good to see all the pretty islands on our way in this time.  We raced another Beneteau into The Little Russell, the channel separating Guernsey from the Island of Herm, although as usual it didn't know we were racing!  Even so Chris went to the effort of goose winging the jib as we closed in on them and we were safely nestled on the waiting pontoon in St Peter Port a good 7 minutes before the slightly smaller French Yacht!  As we waited for the tide to rise in order to cross the sill into the Victoria Marina I eagerly awaited the start of the Leeds vs Arsenal match on Radio 5.

Timing at this point was not ideal, and I only got to hear the first half of the match as I felt a shower was of greater importance.  As I arrived back the fourth and final Arsenal goal was being scored.  Four-nil to The Arsenal - I slept well that night!