Milford Haven Sea Fair 2014

Hwylio yn Ffair y Môr Aberdaugleddau

(Sailing at Sea Fair Milford Haven 2014)

Shiney, happy people.

A crack like a pistol shot awoke me from dreams of derring-do.  A sharp blow to my temple aided the process. The realisation that I hadn’t been shot by the evil Count Rudi von Starnberg after all (reading too many “Flashman” stories in my youth , hey, what?) didn’t explain why I was apparently tied up and dumped in a dark cellar. The return of full wakefulness did not improve my situation a jot. I was in the cabin of “Four Sisters” my 19’ (5.8m) Cardigan Bay Lugger, tangled up in my sleeping bag and heeled sharply over.  I dived out into the cockpit like a stoated rabbit from its burrow, tripped on my camp stove and promptly cracked my head on the pontoon. The UNDERSIDE of the pontoon! Things were definitely not right.  Like Sir Harry Flashman V.C., my response to a crisis was pure instinct. That’s right. I panicked like a good ‘un!  Grab bag, Radio, GPS and anything else I could lay hands on were heaved up on to the pontoon, followed by yours truly, bug eyed and panting with exertion. 

Low water, Springs.

A pause.  A shrill squeal followed by a muffled hoot of triumph as another rodent goes to feed the local owl population. It was a stunningly beautiful night on the Cresswell River at Lawrenny.  A warm breeze barely rippled the water and at 2 am, with a full moon and low spring tides, all was right with the world – unless you happened to be a small rodent or the skipper of “Four Sisters”, that is.

I was attending “Sea Fair Milford Haven 2014” a biennial festival of sail alternating with the, much bigger, “Semaine du Golfe du Morbihan“ in Brittany. After a slow crawl from Nottingham (M54 closed due to police car chase and fatality) I’d picked up the boat from Swallow Boats just outside Cardigan, where she was in the process of being converted from lead to water ballast, and spent a pleasant morning trundling down the minor roads to Lawrenny Quay. 

 Thanks for the help, folks!

With help from other Swallow Boaters (Tom and Kate BR 20 “Shuna” in particular) I, and the rest of the “Sail and Oar Fleet” rigged and launched, hardly noticing the only drop of rain we had that week. Not like Wales at all, really.  The bigger boats, “Bermudan and Classic Cruisers”, they keep at Milford Marina, but we didn’t see much of them, creek crawling not being their forté.  
Most small boat sailors were camping up the hill at the Lawrenny Campsite, much improved from the bare field I remembered from my previous visit in 2010, with stunning views of the Cresswell River.  A few, more fortunate souls, myself included, were sleeping on board. Handy for the pub but less so for the showers.  So, what was I doing, shivering with shock, on a grounded pontoon surrounded with good, Welsh mud? Well, pay close attention because this is well worth thirty quid from any of the yachting magazines “Confessions” pages. 
All my own, stupid fault, of course. Low tide (Springs) was at 2am so I had taken the precaution of lifting the two profiled bilge boards and rudder, happy that the CBL would take the ground quite safely, as she had done previously. However, after a hard night at the Office, I returned to the boat, put the kettle on and settled down in the cockpit to enjoy a cup of coffee and the night sounds of the river. (Mostly snoring from a small boat anchored about 100m upstream, I think... unless there are a score of previously unnoticed Bitterns cavorting on Black Mixen.) That done, I crawled into the cabin to find a torch, meaning to check my mooring ropes but, unaccountably, fell asleep - only to be awakened much later by the aforementioned  pistol shot! At the time I thought I’d been holed by a tree trunk - all sorts of rubbish comes down with the ebb at Springs - but the truth was more prosaic, thank goodness, if somewhat embarrassing.  

It seems that while enjoying my coffee earlier, I had shuffled my backside on top of the port uphaul and accidentally released the board, which had nestled quietly into the mud, not being able to fall with its usual clonk to give the game away. As the tide continued to drop, pressing the boat into the pontoon, the board gave her just enough of a list to put the gunnel and fenders under the edge of the pontoon which then added its own weight to the ballast and 12½ stone (79 Kg) of somnambulant

 skipper as the tide continued to run out. Well, the bilge board didn’t stand a chance! It couldn’t push back into its slot because of the heel and it had snapped like a carrot.  I had an anxious wait as the tide came in, wondering how much damage had been done to the board casing but no water came aboard at all. At the next low tide I was able to lever the broken board back into the casing and sail the rest of the week using just the starboard board, a tribute to how strongly built “Four Sisters “ is. Lessons learned? Moor on the down-tide side of the pontoon. The current will hold you off  so it cannot drop on you and when the flood returns you will float before the pontoon does. Better still, use a mooring buoy or anchor off like a proper DCA member should!

Loss of the port bilge board did not seem to affect sailing performance too much. She was a little reluctant to point to windward on the “wrong” tack, perhaps, but that was the only difference I noticed so I'd got off more lightly than I deserved. Even with both boards I didn’t expect to keep up with the BayRaider 20s or the Pathfinder 3,  except downwind  - you don’t need boards for that - where the only thing better among the small boats was a non-standard Welsford Houdini with a big, well cut, balanced lug and a small mizzen. A shame we didn’t see any Deben Luggers  this year as in 2010 “Wabi”, an early prototype, also with a big balanced lug and mizzen rig,  made a good showing  in the sail and oar fleet. The range of small boats was, however, typically diverse. Caledonian Yawls, Whilly boats, Tideways (Walker and mock-Tutor) a Heron, a Laden Paradox, various Drascombes, BayRaider 20s, a BayRaider 17 and an immaculate gaff-rigged Heard Picarooner were all in evidence and had no problems with the conditions, the winds and weather being more or less perfect all week.  
If you didn’t have an engine and your destination was up wind and tide there was no shortage of offers of a tow from support boats or other participants either, so no worries for even the smallest boats.

Moored up for the night at the Dog House.

Registration for the event, by the way, costs £86 (£100 if using Milford Marina) now that there is no EU sponsorship, which probably accounts for the lower numbers this year. Of that, £50 goes to the Tall Ships (Wales) Trust for all the organisation and £36, I was told, to Lawrenny Yacht Station for the privilege of using their excellent slipway, giving you the choice of launching the boat or 12 pints of Festival Bitter instead.  As usual, the event organizers and the staff of the Lawrenny Arms, (or Doghouse, as the locals call it) did us proud with a full programme of social and sailing activities, and the food on offer was just what a hungry sailor would want – and plenty of it. I particularly enjoyed the seafood chowder laid on by the Lawrenny Arms on Tuesday lunch. So much so that I reproduce the recipe (with permission) below.  It’s at least as good as Breton Cotriade, a favourite of mine from the Morbihan.  

Cawl pysgod o'r Lawrenny Arms

(Fish Chowder a la Lawrenny Arms ) Serves four.

450g Smoked Haddock filleted and skinned

25g desiccated coconut

50g butter

175g Chopped onions

6 sticks of celery, chopped

350g Old potatoes, peeled and cut into small chunks

1 Small green pepper (capsicum) de-seeded and chopped

300ml (half a pint) Milk

125g peeled prawns

Chopped Parsley and Dill, salt and black pepper, to taste.

Method

1/ Place the coconut into a measuring jug and make up to 300mls with boiling water.

 Cut the haddock into bite sized pieces. 

2/ Heat the butter in a large pan. Add the onions and celery, cover and cook for about 5 mins until starting to soften. Add the potato and peppers and cook for 1-2 minute

3/ Strain the coconut liquid and add to the pan with the milk and  a further 600 ml water. Add the fish and bring to the boil, season, cover and simmer for about 20 mins or until the fish is flaking.

4/  Mix in the prawns, warm gently and adjust seasoning. 

 Serve with chunks of good, crusty bread.

ANOTHER PUB! The Cresselly Arms this time. Funny how the BayRaiders always get to the Bar first!

No doubt it was by the purest accident that most of the sailing events included a pub in the passage plan. A fortuitous circumstance taken fullest advantage of by an appreciative and discerning clientele, notable hostelries being the “Cresselly Arms” at Cresswell Quay, where beer can still be had poured from large enamel jugs and drawn straight from the cask (No pumps, no gas! ) and the “Old Point House” at Angle Point whose staff  managed to produce an apparently unlimited supply of excellent fish and chips at short notice.

The pub at Angle Point - before the mob arrived.

  

Non-stop Fish and Chips.

Forgetting my stomach for a moment, a few words about the area might not go amiss. Milford Haven is a Ria, or drowned river valley. It has a long history of ship building and fisheries dating back to before the Roman Occupation and has enough early industrial archaeology for several Ph.D.s .  
Since the 1960s been the site of a number of oil refineries and a major Liquid Natural Gas storage plant.  Despite this most of the shoreline and mud flats seem to be  designated SSSIs and approximately two thirds of the area lies within the Pembrokeshire Coast National Park.  It is also part of the Pembrokeshire Marine Special Area of Conservation with every corner shielding an endangered species of some kind. With tankers and LNG ships not to mention Cruise liners, the Irish Ferry and the largest fishing port in Wales you might think that it wasn’t a place for small boat sailors.  
Not a bit of it! There is plenty of advice available from the Port Authority for users of the waterway both in written form and from the river patrols.  Knowledge of ColRegs and a VHF radio would be a good idea in the busy bits ....and if you have any sense at all you don’t start muttering about power giving way to sail when faced with a dirty great tanker and her acolytes on a flood tide.  Upriver from Neyland Bridge you won’t meet anything much bigger than a family cruiser, anyway.

Where you go to on the water is at the discretion of the tides. The experience of thrashing along with a wake like a destroyer, heeled over on your ear with every sinew straining for more speed is, of course exhilarating  but it rather loses its gloss when the GPS tells you that you are only doing 1.5 knots – and backwards at that!  
Studying the tide tables ( and not mixing your GMT with your BST) is essential, pretty much. At SeaFair, of course, all the organised trips are planned by folk with local knowledge (and a support boat) so you are guaranteed to get where you intend to - and bearing in mind the lunches and pubs on offer, primed ready to go, it’s not a bad idea to stick to the Plan.  However, small boat sailors, especially DCA members, are a bit, shall we say, independent. Organizing  SeaFair  must be a bit like herding cats, which is where the lure of a free lunch might be a deciding factor during the morning briefing as an aid to passage planning. Not many of the crews would willingly forgo a sponsored or pre-paid meal and it might help the organizers to sleep better at night if they, like  Brian Hanrahan “counted them out and counted them all back in again”  at the end of the day. 
These organised trips were well chosen for contrast. One day you are creeping slowly up the Cresswell River with the tide, surrounded by the most beautiful countryside. Keeping in the channel and off the mud is the challenge here, with a great pub as your reward. The next day you might be blasting down the Cleddau River with the tide, surrounded by the busy traffic of a working port, with the peace and tranquillity of Angle Bay as your goal, where your reward is – another great pub! 
Sailing anywhere on the Haven is interesting and, in parts, technically difficult. Learning to master the shallows and fluky winds around the Cleddau Bridge at Neyland or getting past the awkward dog-leg and wind shadow at the north of Castle Reach will certainly improve your sailing skills. This, along with the sheer beauty of the upper reaches, make Milford Haven an excellent Festival venue for sail and oar fleets and I wish the organisers every success in their aim to develop the event further to rival those of Brittany.    

I had equipped “Four Sisters” for cruising mode as follows:-

Anchor 5kg Bruce type with 30m white 12mm octoplait. I have 6m chain to put between the two, if required, but prefer not to use it because of its mud gathering propensity and the chunks it takes out of the gunnel. I also carry a 3kg grapnel on 30m of 10mm nylon braided line.

Oars Great for slipping silently away on early mornings – not that I did, much – and for close quarter manoeuvring when coming alongside, especially in very shallow water.

Outboard motor A 4hp Yamaha. Plenty of grunt for going anywhere against the tides, towing folk without their own engines as required  - and for running like a rabbit when the Tankers turn up.

90 litre Drybag Loads of room for a couple of changes of clothes, (The rest of my extensive wardrobe being in a suitcase in the back of the car.)  sleeping bag, night attire and self-deflating mattress.

Fresh Water   Two five litre water containers for coffee, washing….and extra ballast.

Camping gear Stove, kettle, pan, ingredients for one easily cooked meal, dried fruit, nuts, coffee, half bottle Islay Malt and the rest of the first aid kit, Duck Tape, personal radio with earphone (for weather forecast and the Archers) large fishing umbrella (to keep the cockpit seats dry at anchor or act as a sun shade, as required. People say that the two most useless things on a small boat are an umbrella and a Naval Officer. I have found both to have their uses in the right circumstances!)  

VHF Radio   A useful safety aid on Ch 16 and Ch 12 but SeaFair organizers used 72 at Nyland and 37 at Lawrenny – or said they did. One was never sure. I didn’t get a response for radio checks from either channel. The Port Authority River Patrol answered promptly to Ch 16, though.

Depth sounder My posh electronic sonar stayed at home in favour of a bamboo cane.

GPS Well, you aren’t going to get lost up a river, are you… but my old Garmin 72 is permanently set to record my track and show speed over the ground. The first, to examine tacking angles later and the second to help me get the best from my old sails.

I had other gear, of course, but the list is long and boring enough already.