An early trip West

The club had organised an Easter Cruise. About 12 boats had signed on for the trip, leaving Cardiff on Good Friday, Sailing down to Oxwich Bay on the Gower for an overnight stay, on to the Burry Inlet, North Gower on the Saturday, Ilfracombe on the Sunday and then back to Cardiff on the Monday.

There were two problems for us. Firstly, High tide on Monday at Cardiff was 09:38 in the morning, and nearly ten o'clock at night. Louise had to be in work by 10pm, and leaving Ilfracombe at Midnight on Sunday evening appealed to neither of us. Secondly, Ishtar is a fin keel boat. The others are mainly bilge keels, twin keels that can dry out in harbours that do so. Our last trip to Ilfracombe had been a very rolly affair, anchored outside in the swells whilst everyone else slept, ashore inside the harbour.

Bearing in mind that our friend Tom had an unused mooring in Llangwm on the river Cleddau, we made a quick decision to join the club cruse as far as Oxwich, and then head down to our summer cruising grounds in Pembrokeshire earlier than usual.

We set off from our pontoon in Cardiff just after 6am, the sound of diesel engines drifting across Cardiff bay, with the scent of coffee from the boats, clasped in the gloved hands of the cold, bleary eyed sailors, as we entered the 06:30 lock out.

As part of our ongoing learning curve, I retired below and left Louise to it. She raised the sails and set off, doing everything, checking position, making entries in the log, watching the depth sounder, marking the charts, adjusting the sails, judging when to tack, constantly busy, making decisions, sailing Ishtar the nearly 50 miles to Oxwich, the sound of just the wind and the water far nicer than the sound of the engine earlier.

There were boats all over the Bristol Channel, tacking this way and that, some close inshore, others further out. Louise sailed all the way, only finally switching on the engine when the huge spring tide meant that our tacking upwind was almost taking us backwards.

Louise had never anchored before, and was keen to try. She made some mistakes, but eventually heaved over the great hook and 35m of chain, motoring gently astern until the boat jerked to a stop as the anchor bit. We joined some friends aboard their yacht for beer, wine, japanese rice crackers and other nibbles and drinks, Louise delighted, and rightly proud of her growing achievements as a sailor.

As the sun set over a crowded anchorage, we returned to Ishtar and settled in for a peaceful night, rocking gently, the sound of the waves lapping against Ishtar's sides.

High pressure had dominated the UK over the previous three weeks. The forecast had that set to change. The warm, calm sunny days, with frosty mornings and light winds would be replaced by wind and rain before Easter was over. Typical UK bank holiday weather.

When we awoke and upped the anchor at 6am on Saturday, that change had already started, as we set off from Oxwich westwards, Louise once again helming as we passed the Helwick bank and started our crossing of Cardigan Bay.

I simply could not believe it when, a few hours later, our engine cut out again and refused to start. The dreaded 'diesel bug' had plagued us last year, but all new fuel pipes, switching to white diesel instead of red and dosing that with a bug killing chemical had, we thought, solved that problem. Deeply disheartened, I rigged up a fesh Jerry can and we limped into Milford, our tail between our legs.

 Our spirits were soon raised as the sun came out again, and the spectacular blues of the spring sky were simply stunning as we passed under the Cleddau bridge and headed up river.

The tide was huge. Up at Bristol, the other end of the Bristol channel, the difference between high and low tide was around 45 feet! In Milford, it was a much more reasonable 25 feet difference. All that water moving in and out every 6 hours showed:



Tired, but relieved that we'd made it safely, we opened a bottle of wine. Trying to discover what had caused our engine to stop would be best left until morning - it was starting to get dark anyway. The last time we were here, Louise had absolutely loved sitting on deck, listening to the folorn calls of an owl in the oak woods. As she sipped her wine, tonight, she called down to me 'My owl!, I can hear my owl!'

Another peaceful night. We slept in the forecabin - the new bedding and upholstery Louise had worked so hard during the winter to make was supremely comfortable, and we slept well.

Mumbles and back

Louise took Tigger ashore in the morning. Around us, folk were breakfasting, and the smell of hot coffee drifted from boat to boat. There might just be enough wind to sail by, but that was 'on the nose'. So, when we'd all finished eating, and the dishes were put away, we set off under steam, for Mumbles.

Three times we eased back and tried the sails, but the longest we managed, before the wind dropped again, was about 30 minutes. In the end, we motored most of the 20 odd miles into Mumbles, the blue skies and warmth now replaced by an overcast sky, the bright colours of spring, gone for the moment.

The anchorage, beneath Mumbles' famous lighthouse, pier and lifeboat station, was, however, beautiful, and it was flat calm. The holding here was excellent, in thick mud, just off the long concrete slip at 'Knab rock'. With neap tides, and light winds, I did my calculations and left us with about 2 feet under the keel at low tide.

We enjoyed a beer and a warm welcome at Mumbles yacht club. It's been years since we used to come to Mumbles to launch our diving Ribs, and I was a little surprised that the place seemed far less busy and vibrant than I remembered. It was still only March, I suppose.

The sea was like a plate of black glass when we returned to Ishtar. Almost unbelievably, in this sheltered anchorage, only exposed to the East, an Easterly wind blew up almost as soon as we'd made the bed up, and another lumpy night followed. Most annoying. We had no worries, though. Since buying our Delta anchor, about 2 years back, we've never dragged, even though it weighs a miserly 6kg.

Louise had set the alarm for 06:15, but she was very very tired. I quickly dressed, started the engine and pulled up the anchor as she 'came round' and we were motoring away from Mumbles within 10 minutes. Heading SSE to avoid the Scarweather sandbank, the Easterly wind was fine for sailing, so I ran the sails up quickly, before Louise took over. It was a lot colder than of late as we looked back over the chilly water towards Mumbles

Looking Eastwards, across Glamorgan towards Cardiff, the sun was just rising

I left Louise to it, and retired below with Tigger. As the morning progressed, the wind from last night lessened, and by the time we'd cleared the sandbanks and Turned ESE, we were running the engine. We could have tacked back and forth up the channel, but time was against us. We had to cover 40 or so miles by sea, lock in, sort out the boat, then get home to Neath and wash and eat before Louise set off for her night shift.

The more I think about it, the more difficult I realise it is for us. Sailing gives a great sense of freedom, but, at the moment, if Tigger is with us, we still have to pump the dinghy and take him ashore each night, and we must still get back to Cardiff for work. When you travel everywhere at 4 miles an hour or so, you have to plan carefully. It would be lovely to be totally free and not have to worry about being in a certain place at a certain time.

Maybe one day.



Meanwhile, as we approached Aberthaw, a mere 15 miles or so from home, now with plenty of time, we switched off the engine and finally had a reaaly nice sail, tacking back and forth, upwind, setting and resetting the sails, until we were finally back off Barry

Then, an hour or so later, we were locking in and heading for our own mooring on the pontoon.

A bit rushed towards the end, but great fun, with great company.