A short weekend

Which turned out to be shorter than we'd anticipated.

Left the house at 07:00 Saturday and arrived at a quiet Llangwm around 08:30. A group of men and women were launching a Pembrokeshire long boat - out for an early morning row. This popular sport seems to be really gaining momentum, and it's a rare visit to Pembrokeshire now that we don't see one or more of them, practicising or racing. It appears to appeal to all ages, sexes and types of people too.

Louise pumped the dinghy and we puttered out to Ishtar. I realised something was wrong, straight away - one of the cushions under where I'd fitted the new winches and clutches was soaking wet. There was nothing for it but to take the headlining down and pour water on the deck until we found the leak. This would be the best part of a day's work, so we just got on with it.

Notice the loose hanging wires of the guard rail? We did too. Some fine person, it seems, had given Ishtar a clout with their boat, and driven off, leaving no note. There was not much daage - a bent pulpit and damaged navigation light, but it was more work to do to put right. I was not in a good mood by this point. The sun was shining and I wanted to be sailing down the river. Such is life, as they say.

A few hours later and we were getting things sorted. The leak turned out to be a screw hole holding the spray hood on, and I was pleased that all the work I had done had not been the cause of the leak. I managed to straighten the pulpit as best I could, trying not to fall in as I pushed and pulled at it.

By 4 o'clock we sailed off the mooring in a light North Westerly and set off down the Cleddau, it's oak lined banks were truly beautiful in the spring sunshine.

Louise trimmed the sails, following the wind as we twisted and turned our way down the river towards Milford Haven. The wind is fickle in the upper reaches of the river, and can blow and die, veer and back very quickly. Louise struggled a bit at one point, but there was no problem, and it is truly a lovely place to sail. Anyone who is lucky enough to do sail up or down the Cleddau enjoys a rare privilege.



We'd thought about tying up on the pontoon at Pembroke dock, near the yacht club. When we noticed that it had not yet been set up, however, we turned and headed back upstream.

On the way, we passed Jacona - a Nicholson 32, previously owned by a couple from Cardiff yacht club who took her across to the Caribbean and back a couple of years ago

http://travel.yahoo.com/trip-journal-1392359-jacona

We're hoping to meet up with that couple, Dave and Sheryn, soon, and pick their brains on the trip, doos and don'ts, their thoughts on boats for cruising and so on. More if we do.

Anyway. Some people find drifting up and down rivers at the whim of the wind, looking at trees and birds very boring indeed, and would far rather be on dry land. We tied Ishtar up when we reached Llangwm and took the dinghy ashore this beautiful, tranquil evening. 



  

Where, people who did not enjoy floating up and down rivers made their feelings at being ashore known:

Sticks were massacred. Seaweed was torn up. Mud was trampled, splashed and spattered onto people's undersides, water was swam in and panting noises were heard.

We returned to Ishtar, had a meal, drank some wine, listened to the evening turn into night, the gurgling sounds of the water as teh river passed under us, and the sounds of the wading birds heading home to roost.

Peaceful.

It was even more peaceful the following morning. Dead silent, in fact, and perhaps the calmest I've ever see the river:

There was clearly no point in trying to sail, and motoring down the river and back didn't really appeal. We did a few odd jobs aboard Ishtar, did some tidying, drank some coffe and then went ashore, taking Tigger for a walk along the wooded banks before jumping in the car and heading home.



Struggling

Just sitting in the house. We never seem to have any free time. There is always a huge list of things to do. Every penny that comes in has to be carefully assigned to pay for some more work to be done. Will we be able to afford to do the conservatory this year, now that the attic, garage and bathroom are done? Should we pay as much as we can off the mortgage whilst the rates are so low, and leave spending on the house until we've paid it off?

Meanwhile, we want to go diving. We want to go sailing. We want to go away in the van, drink wine, eat good food, enjoy ourselves. We knew it was going to be hard. We're approaching the halfway point in our plans to move to West Wales, and everything is according to budget, and going really well.

Then our friend Tom visits, from the Phillippines. It was Tom that first got us interested in sailing, and, with whom, we got our first taste of what it could be like, crusing from Italy to the Greek islands in his 44ft ketch 'Perky Puffin' in 2007:

Here was a boat that we could live on. Long term. Here was a boat that we could travel on, cheaply. I've always wanted to dive in the Pacific. Rangiroa is near the top of my list. There are so many places we want to travel to, Galapagos, South Africa, back to Sudan, and, it keeps calling me, the Pacific.

Through Tom, we met John, from Tenby. John bought a boat in America, Chelone, and sailed her back across the North Atlantic:

The next year, John sailed down through Portugal, Morocco, the Azores, across the Caribbean, past beautiful islands where we ourselves have since cruised and dived, and then back to the UK. We often pop down to Tenby to visit John - he dives, too.

Then there are Brian and Sue, on their 33ft yacht, 'Blue Bear'. They left Cardiff in October 2010, sailed  the same way as John, but then went through the Panama canal and out into the Pacific. They are currently headed for Fiji.

These are not dreams. These are not adventures one reads about in magazines. These are friends of ours.

We need a boat, a scuba compressor and some time. We have three or four years to finish messing about with houses, and then we may be able to have those things.

Meanwhile, we work, and read about others who do. We plan, and talk. It's hard, and we're struggling.

I read this, earlier today:

"We shared meals ashore and on our boat in the Marshall Islands, drank kava with groups on several islands in Fiji, played with children, sang with locals, taught school children in Indonesia, picnicked with locals in the Cook Islands,  learned how to collect shellfish and prepare them the local way  in Kiribati, traded clothes for local produce in Guadalcanal, sponsored a model outrigger canoe race in the Louisiades, and repaired a solar power system and other equipment in Tikopia. We took locals aboard from several islands for overnight fishing trips, to visit their ancestral atoll in New Caledonia, took a family for two weeks to a Melanesian Arts Festival in Vanuatu and slept on crowded ferryboat decks on the Irrawaddy River in Burma"

http://www.arctracer.com/

The countdown is well underway.

Nice sail up, horrible sail back

We got to Dale around 13:00 Friday. The tide was well in and still rising, so launching the tender and getting to Ishtar was easy, easier still with the Westerly wind.

As we got to the boat, something didn't look right. We moor Ishtar with a chain, and with a rope, if one fails the other holds, hopefully. The rope 'tail' was hanging limply in the water. When we got aboard, we could see why:

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="400" caption="Oops"][/caption]

I can only assume it must have tangled with the chain, and gradually sawn its way through as the boat rotated with each tide. Ho Hum. Another job to do. Later.

We unloaded, tied off the tender and headed across to our friend's mooring (Hi Phil and Gail). I'd promised to dive on it and check it over. I suited up and entered the water with a splash.

The mooring was fine, little more work than renewing the cable ties on a few of the shackles. Job done. The water is warm enough with a dry suit, but threading a cable tie through the eye of a shackle you can feel, but not see, in the mud, with cold hands, was tricky.With high tide approching, we took Ishtar in to the main pontoon on the beach. Louise filled the water and we took some unneeded junk to the car. Met Adam on the beach and we chatted as we threw sticks into the sea for Tigger on a cool spring evening.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="400" caption="Adam"][/caption]

 

We had a curry aboard Ishtar and watched another wonderful Dale sunset with a glass of Montana Sauvingnon Blanc.

Louise fancied a trip up the river on Saturday. A 10:30 low tide meant the trip up and back could be leisurely, but with the tide turning at 16:30, running West agaist the increasing wind, it might cut up. Louise set the Genoa and sailed off downwind and upstream. 'It will be a nice sail up, horrible sail back' I said.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Leaving Dale"][/caption]

It was lovely. Easy sailing, the wind pushing Ishtar along at 5.7 knots through the water, with another knot of current as the flood began. Usual thing for Milford, radio on, listening for ship movements, avoiding tugs and speed boats, then under the Cleddau bridge and into another world, with ancient oaks, herons hunting under their eaves in the silence. I love the river.

All too soon, we were at Llangwm, our 'home' of a couple of years back. By this time, Tigger had had quite enough of boats, his head full of seaweed and thick gloopy mud. Louise's head was full of tales of seabass, caught in inches of water, just of the banks, according to fishermen's tales she'd been reading on the Internet. They set off for the shore.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Going ashore"][/caption]

 In fairness, Tigger was far more successful in his search for mud than was Louise in hers for bass, but they both returned happy. I waited on the boat, watching a beautiful Westerly, Swn Y Mor of Dale glide between the moorings. We exchanged pleasantries.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Westerly"][/caption]

With 28 knots forecast for the evening, we reefed the main and Louise sailed us off the mooring and off down the river. Still a lovely sail at this point, sun and broken clouds, the steep wooded valley sides of the Cleddau protecting us from the wind.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Cleddau"][/caption]

 As we passed under the Cleddau bridge and left Neyland in our wake, however, the tide turned, and began to flow against the strengthening wind. Heading due West against a Westerly wind, we switched to engine power as the sea picked up and the clouds darkened, glowering down on us and threatening rain.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Worsening weather"][/caption]

 

Then it got unpleasant. Boat slamming into the waves, great big raindrops and winds of 28 knots. We were held up for half an hour as two tankers, one leaving, one entering, traded tugs in the narrow channel. It was a pleasure to tie up Ishtar on her mooring. I took Tigger ashore in the tender, another soaking, and an early night was to follow. By 22:00 we were seeing 30 knots on the instruments, but there was no further rain.

Sunday morning was far more benign. I sailed us the mile or so around to Castlebeach bay and we set the anchor without fuss. I rowed Tigger ashore - Louise wanted to do a stock check and oil some of the teak, so she remained aboard Ishtar as we set off in the dinghy.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Ishtar at anchor"][/caption]

The recent strong Easterly winds had been kind to Castlebeach, from a dogs point of view. Tigger had a huge choice of sticks - he settled on one that was tied to another piece of wood, so I untangled it for him.

The 'throne' that someone had built last summer was looking good:

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Throne"][/caption]

 

Someone had thoughtfully added some suntan cream, and toys for the kids

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Accessories"][/caption]

Several varieties of lager

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Lager"][/caption]

 

And, out the back, a small wood store had been added, for those cold spring evenings

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Wood store"][/caption]

All in all, a well thought out, planned and executed project.

Tigger and I set off up the path Westwards. Met a small group of people arguing over a ketch anchored in the bay below.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Castlebeach anchorage"][/caption]

They seemingly couldn't agree on whether the ketch was one they knew or not. We had a brief chat about things nautical, and the Haven, before I left them and headed back to the beach.

All too soon we were upping anchor and packing. A couple of hours later we were in the car once more, heading East, and back to the real world.

Hello world!

Welcome to the Blog of Ishtar, a Cobra 850 28ft Sailing yacht based in Cardiff Bay



We've just moved Ishtar to a mooring in the river Cleddau, a few miles up river from Miford Haven. Hoping to do some exploration of the Pembrokeshire national park. Sailing wise, that is, we've dived the coast down here for 20 years.

The trip down:

We left Cardiff at the top of a 12.2m tide - Louise went below as she'd been on nights and I motor sailed us, past the outside of the Nash and Scarweather sands, touching 10 knots speed over ground with wind and engine. The day brightened after a wet start.

The remaining wind vanished and we anchored off Oxwich bay, for an evening of curry and fishing. The former was more successful than the latter.

The next day we set off early, punching the last of the flood as we headed West. We were joined by common dolphin, playing in the bow wave and seemingly, teaching their young the rules:

 A short video:



Some chop off St Govan's and punching the tide again off Freshwater West, but we finally made Milford around 17:00. Delighted.

Up the river, past Milford, Pembroke and Neyland and under the Cleddau bridge:

Navigating the upper Cleddau was easy, with the help of the invaluable 'Sea guide to Pembrokeshire' by Tom Bennett, published by Imray, ISBN 978 085288 99 0

We arrived at our temporary mooring, Llangwm, and dived to set up our mooring chains:

The upper reaches of the Cleddau are beautiful and unspoilt, and Llangwm is a perfect and peaceful mooring. We are so lucky to be able to 'borrow' a mooring there for the summer.

We are here: