Excalibur sails over Cowes week – Lymington – Newtown River – Cowes – Gosport

Coming into Lymington Yacht Haven my mooring skills were still a bit shakey, but we got in.

Another night out on the town. More carnage. Asking to sample a wine from an automatic dispenser caused chaos. The bartender hit the button above her head, and red wine basically just poured out all over her white top.

After the wine shirt competition we headed for a curry.

After the curry we headed back to the The Haven, my last memories of that night was being left with a smashed gin glass, and Dave and OC running off, leaving me with the mess. Cheers guys! 😀


Dave left us the next day.

Ollie found a little ring on the deck, which looked quite innocious. Where did it come from, where was it going you may ask. Well this little f@cker was the only thing that kept my boom from falling off. Cheers OC for the spot! Note to self, must check deck more often.

We ventured into town. Lymington is known for having the greatest concentration of charity shops in the northern hemisphere. Bet you didn’t know that. We spotted some shit, and I bought some classics.

We left shortly after.

We sailed against the tide as far as we could towards the needles. The tide runs seriously fast, but we had a laugh. Once we had enough of sailing at 0.5knots against the tide we headed for Newtown Creek.

There were races all around us, but it was pretty clear where they were. We sailed as near as possible without being a menace. Gigantic boats with huge spinnakers whizzed all around us.

We found a mooring buoy and were charged a hefty sum to enjoy an hours restbite in Newtown River. I really need to get an eletric windlass (did I mention that).

After lunch we thought we’d try our luck and East Cowes on a Thursday night, on Cowes week. Surprisingly we nabbed a spot. Small boats rule! The Red Arrows put a display on for us, and then we headed into Cowes for a session.

Waiting for the chain ferry coming back was like watching a nature show, but the song birds and badgers in this case were red trouser wearing, daddy has a boat 20 somethings, rarr-ing loudly like sunbathing walruses clapping their flippers to attract the opposite sex. What a sight.

The next morning I was faced with a familar situation. Winds going the wrong way. The boat doesn’t go astern that way…blah blah. We came off and got pinned up against the pontoon that runs along the shore. Springing off we managed to get her nose out enough and headed out with the rest of the fleet, destination Gosport Marina.

Arriving at Gosport Marina I made a hash of getting into our allocated berth, so we were blown into a different berth. I hoped we could have stayed there, but it wasn’t to be. We ended up having to take off again and find a new berth around the other side. Once tied up I was more than relieved. Every port that week gave me trouble in some form or another, and by the time we had got to Gosport I had pretty much had enough.

Ollie departed shortly thereafter.

All in all it was a fanastic week, the weather, the company and the carnage. The guys were fantastic and hope they’ll come again for more jollies in the future.

Cheers guys! 🙂


Author: Tim Butler

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