Birds like blokes with yachts – thus it was I found myself on Tuesday coming back from Cherbourg three up!
Fog disorientates birds, I have noticed, and in this case a young starling and a pied wagtail seemed only too glad to land and take advantage of a lift across the Channel, quickly making themselves at home in the cockpit and even below in the cabin, where it was a lot warmer
Having sailed a very useful SW 3-4 on Friday, with a big spring tide to push me along as well, I arrived in Cherbourg at tea-time; in the marina the tide was creating a current of about 1knot E-W across the inner end of the pontoons, which is worth noting. A very pleasant weekend included some research in the Naval Archives, and lunch with the Lacour family at Urville on Monday, where we watched the fog, which had covered the area on Sunday, spoil the sunshine by making its return.
So Tuesday’s crossing would prove to be on instruments alone; I decided that therefore darkness added little to the problem, and so, waking early to find I could at least see my way out of the harbour, I crept round a murky Fort de l’Est, its green light adding a suitably Gothic tone to the small hours, to find dense fog outside. I adopted a strict radar (4mi radius) and AIS watch, and made my way up towards the shipping under motor.
With radar scanning my route about 40 minutes ahead, there was little point in being on deck, except at dawn, when I had to pause to allow two ships I couldn’t see or hear (see picture of AIS) to cross about a mile in front of me – an eerie moment! I then followed one across the ‘road’ and emerged from the main traffic quite quickly. I found it useful to load the MMSI number of a ship I might want to talk to into the radio to save time, though I only spoke with one coming up behind me, probably from Le Havre, to ensure that he had me on his radar.
The visibility cleared as the breeze increased, and I sailed the second half of the crossing in E3-4, meeting two giant cargo ships (in visibility of under a mile) south of Portland.
A radar blip ahead proved to be GALATEA, a Trinity House vessel engaged in buoy-laying, probably to do with the Olympic gateway; presumably this means there will be more obstacles in the area in the runup to the sailing events.
I kept the radar on to enter the bay and the first sight of land I had was the Portland breakwater. The birds? They left as soon as the visibility improved, doubtless able to navigate much better than I!
Steve Fraser
Submitted on 16th March 2012