We arrived at the boat late on Friday afternoon. Everyone else was the same as us. Carrying bags and boxes out to their own boats. I took Tigger for a walk. There are some tall reeds at the club, over 6ft high. Herons hunt at the water's edge, and the occasional mink is to be seen. Tigger loves hunting for sticks in the reeds, bouncing about, with the occasional meerkat impression.
As darkness approached, we wandered across to Mermaid Quay. Harry Ramsden's fish and chips went down well sitting on the wharf, where you can moor your boat via a Pay and Display system to visit the shops and restaurants.
I often wonder about the sailing ships and steamers of past centuries, and the men that worked and sweated so hard, loading the coal, and unloading other goods - the original purpose of the docks. I wonder what it was really like to sit here in 1912, where I now enjoy my fish and chips. More interesting, what would one of those men think if they could see the Bay now?
Anyway. Back to the club, and into the bar for a few beers in good company. Seems everyone was looking forward to the trip.
Saturday morning. Louise wanted to get some fresh rolls for lunch, and I just waited. Low tide was around 14:30, and, since we were headed up Channel, it made sense to wait for the flood to take us to Portishead. In the end, we locked out just before low tide, with a crowd of other yachts, 16 in all, making the trip from our club.
Louise got the sails up very quickly, and the noise of the engine was soon forgotten in the warm hazy sunshine. The wind was from ahead, so we lazily tacked back and forth for the next hour or two, gradually separating away from the other boats as we all moved at slightly different speeds and in different directions.
To call it a gentle sail doesn't do it justice. Drifting with the tide, sailing at perhaps one or two knots more than the water was moving, even the peaceful lapping of the water against Ishtar's hull seemed quiet.
I'd promised Louise that I'd just let her sail the boat. She wanted to do the whole thing from start to finish as if I wasn't there. So Tigger and I made some tea, some Ciabbatta rolls with hummus, took some pictures and did some reading. We passed a couple of larger vessels at anchor, their vibrant colours a contrast to the whites of the yachts.
As the afternoon slipped by, you just knew a wonderful sunset was coming. It didn't disappoint, as we passed Clevedon and approached Portishead.
All this peace was all too soon over, however. The good weather had brought out dozens of boats from Portishead marina. add yachts from Cardiff, and the locks were working flat out, filling and emptying every half hour, chock full each time until we were all in.
Tie up. Engine off. Open a beer. Nice.
We joined our friends Sheila and Vince aboard their yacht for our customary curry. A couple of glasses of wine and an axcellent home baked cake, courtesy of sheila, and then to the pub, where we joined all the other crews, in differing states of inebriation, depending on whether they'd eaten aboard their boats, or gone straight there after the lock.
Everybody had anjoyed the day, smiles all around.
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