Author name: Jamie Furlong

Been a liveaboard since 2005, spending first few years living in Turkey. Started sailing a few years before when I joined my father on his retirement present we got for him: a sailing course across the North Sea! Been writing about every single trip, both on sea and on land, since that day. Take photography seriously but miss my decks.

If You’re Uncertain, Stop And Think

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So what was the lesson learnt? Simple really. Always err on the side of caution if things do not seem quite right. Don’t try and ‘force’ your passage into an angle that doesn’t match the suggested instructions. Generally a compass won’t lie so if it’s telling you you are 10 degrees out, then you probably are. Thanks to Jon’s sensible and considered approach we successfully made our way up the river with no problems, despite the fact that all his crew were moaning about him being over cautious!

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Cider House Rules

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With Tim and Sharine replaced by Liz, we made our way down towards the northern coast of France, aiming towards Lezardrieux. Lezardrieux is France’s answer to Dartmouth, with pink granite, cider and lots of bottles of Pouilley Fume. The sun came out for our crossing though despite some great SW winds early on we had to motor for the second half of the journey. Still, spending the next 24 hours drinking cider made up for the lack of the sail.

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How Fishy Is Fish?

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We anchored up at Creux harbour and as the sun went down Tim and I nipped ashore for a quick exploration and then back again to spend an evening of getting drunk whilst at anchor. We explored intellectual topics – just how fishy is fish from the north sea – and looked at the stars.

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Fun & Games Around Alderney Race

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What didn’t help, however, was the autohelm playing havoc with the steering. It kept locking up! It was starting to get so bad that it was taking over the steeting of Barnacle Bill, often pointing us in the direction of immediate danger. As we approached the south of Sark, heading towards an eastern cardinal warning us of very shallow water, we decided to take drastic action.

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Brits Abroad vs Belgian Toffs

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A rather amusing incident occurred today. Due to an administrative cock up with the marina the English power-boat users next to us had been directed to someone else’s berth. That someone else was a rather snotty-nosed Belgian couple in a very expensive yacht who decided to turn up later that morning.

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Crossing The Channel To Cherbourg

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Jon had spent much time explaining the basics of passage planning. We had sat down each evening to plan our route for the next day. In Portsmouth we had to decide where we were planning to head to next and we debated two options: either head west towards Devon and Cornwall in the south west of the UK, or sail due south towards Cherbourg.

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Tattooed Fishermen & Gay Sailors

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I started the morning off hunting for a fishing line. The local fishing shop was closed (I thought fishermen got up early) so I hung around the fisherman’s pontoon, looking like I was after a different type of cruise. A bloke walked past in wellies, arms loaded with tats – gotta be a fisherman, I thought – so I asked him if he could help. Sure enough he was about to head out to sea for a day’s work so I wandered down to his boat with him, chatting skate and whiting.

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Stop-Over In Ramsgate

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We started off well, skirting our way around the Thames barges down the Orwell, and around Kentish Knock BB started sailing herself. The wind dropped soon after, however, and we were forced to motor sail for four hours. To make up for this we threw an old line out the back of the boat and as we approached Ramsgate we got a bite! It could only be mackerel so as I pulled in the line it went taught and then snapped. Arse.

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Beautiful Essex & Suffolk Countryside

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It’s funny how one can sail the Atlantic, around the Caribbean, through the Pacific – even across the English channel to France and the Netherlands, to Portugal and Spain, and completely forget that some of the prettiest sailing territory is around the Essex and Suffolk coast. Our quick 12 mile trip from Felixstowe Ferry down the River Deben took us briefly into open waters and then back up the River Orwell.

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Moored Up In Felixstowe Ferry On The Deben

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We stayed on the boat and didn’t go anywhere today. The weather was miserable and by the time we had stocked up with provisions it wasn’t worth going anywhere anyway, so we remained tied to the mooring. I made myself comfortable in the forward cabin, though it was a little tight. Barnacle Bill was, after all, built as a racing boat so the designers, Sparkman and Stephens, had clearly prioritised speed over sleeping comfort. The saloon, however, was very accommodating and was begging us to get through a couple of bottles of red.

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One-Off Sparkman & Stephens Admirals Cup

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You can tell from the crew photos that this trip was a bit of a giggle. In fact it was a complete scream, but the emphasis, for me at least, was to learn much about navigation. This was due to Jon’s methodical and considered approach to passage planning and sailing, but when you own a boat like Barnacle Bill then you’re going to be a proper sailor, aren’t you? This boat is a real head-turner!

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Discovering Swallows And Amazon

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I met Ray through the inappropriately named ‘Cruising Association’. He was looking for crew to help him sail ‘Wyvern’ around Britain. Unfortunately I couldn’t make that trip due to other sailing commitments, but this was a nice little over-nighter on the east coast of the UK. Very beautiful.

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River Dart Welcomes Us With Open Arms

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Strange, isn’t it? We spend all that time in Portugal, Spain and France and the weather was not being very nice to us, then as we enter the English Channel the sun comes out and we’re spending out last days on the boat in glorious weather! As Lee scrabbles to complete his sextant readings we approach the River Dart and head into Dartmouth, one of the most beautiful entrances to a port I’ve yet to experience. Poetic.

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Lots Of Dolphins But No Fish

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I enjoyed a fantastic night watch with the moon playing hide and seek behind storm clouds and when I awoke next morning the wind had finally come round. Not quite the south westerlies as predicted but a marked improvement and the sea state dropped back to moderate, thank god. Jezabel just wasn’t pulling in the results, so I tried the paravane with 4m of trace and the thing shot down into the water pulling what must have been its maximum poundage. I decided to pull it straight back in as we were sailing at over 7 knots.

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A Rainy Day In Vigo

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It was a nasty rainy day and still too rough to leave so the skipper, Lee and I decided to visit Vigo, having been inspired by the local TV station, Vigo TV, which broadcasts sitcoms worse than Crossroads and quizshows with t!ts.

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