So what colour is your ensign? Blue, red, white, other?

There is much to say on the subject of UK ensigns, the flags which we fly on the stern of a boat to show the rest of the world who we are. Along with a few other countries the flag normally worn by our vessels is different to that of our national flag, the union flag. Among those few that fly different flags at sea to on land there are also those who have another subset – those who are allowed to fly a different ensign for one reason or another.

Let's muddy the waters a little and describe the situation in the UK as it stands, possibly one of the most complicated situations available. Firstly the Navy flies the White Ensign, as would the Royal Yacht should we still have one and the Royal Yacht Squadron. Next is the Red Ensign, the default ensign worn by all civilian UK registered vessels unless another ensign allowed, thirdly is the least senior (historically) the Blue Ensign. These date from the 19th century when the Royal Navy had three squadrons, the red, white and the blue.

To further complicate matters a small number of clubs has been granted the right to allow their members to fly defaced Red Ensigns, undefaced Blue Ensigns and defaced Blue Ensigns. A defaced ensign is one on which a symbol of some sort is added to (usually) the coloured part of the flag. An easy way to picture this is to understand that the national flag of New Zealand is in fact a Blue Ensign defaced by the addition of the southern cross to the blue sector, similarly the maritime flag of New Zealand is a Red Ensign defaced with the southern cross.

The right to fly such ensigns is generally contingent upon being a member of the club and fulfilling any other requirements, the granting of this honour upon the club is historical and finding out why each has been allowed what would represent a good deal of research not pertinent to my point right now.

Much is said in various fora regarding ensigns and who wears what and why. Class, Trafalgar, Dunkirk, both World Wars, competence and colour coordination are all usually raised in what can be absorbing and, sometimes, vicious discussions. Google the subject and you will soon find something to distract you from what you should really be doing.

Why mention this now? Well I am likely to be allowed to fly one of the few ensigns which do not conform to the norm because of my service in the Royal Air Force, and it is yet another colour again. Members of the Royal Air Force Sailing Association may fly the RAF ensign – pale blue defaced by the RAF roundel – further defaced by a crown above the eagle over the roundel. Since the RAF hasn't had motor launches for some years now this is likely to be the only pale blue UK ensign you'll ever see hanging off the back of any boat. My application is in the post.

I only spent six years in the RAF, but honouring the most junior of the British armed services on the sea is something I look forward to with unexpected pleasure. I particularly look forward to conversations and explanations along the way, but I think there will always be a Red Ensign tucked under the chart table should we find our way to somewhere a military based ensign is not appreciated.

Crossing Lyme Bay and rounding Portland Bill

Last Thursday we motored from Topsham to Exmouth in a dead calm. The hardest parts were the start and finish - as expected. First we had to almost dig ourselves out of the mud and eventually had to back out past Peter's very nice 55 foot ketch, a beautiful old girl with probably a few stories to tell. Anyway, his tender got bounced out of the way but his yacht survived.

Travelling down the Exe is like a complicated dot to dot writ large on the water, hopping from one bouy to the other, and trying not to snigger when you check off the one called "nob".  We didn't snigger, not through maturity but stress, this being our first time out unsupervised in this huge bus of a boat.

The entrance to the Exe deserves planning and respect - which I gave in spades, having been worrying about this since the moment I came in. You exit close enough to the beach to shout a hearty "good morning" to a dog walker, which I did. It was not horologic-ally correct by 6 minutes, but never mind. Once past the beach you turn South-ish and keep going until you reach Torbay.

Torquay town harbour is a nice place to go, Harbour master was helpful and the pontoon is easy to hit just as you go in. Shame that's what we did, but we confessed to our sins and I had a message from the harbour master the next day on my phone to say we were not going to be charged for our crass vandalism as they could just bend the post back again!

Unfortunately we had to be up early next day for reasonable weather to cross Lyme Bay and round Portland Bill in safety so Torquay didn't get the attention it deserved.

Topsham to Torquay Album on Facebook

Leaving Torquay was a quieter affair than Topsham, and rather more straightforward. You head straight out of the harbour, keeping to starboard of course, until well clear of the harbour walls then head off from there. We took a left and headed west across Lyme Bay towards Portland Bill, and then around to the marina there. I selected Portland Marina based on the fact that we sailed from Weymouth previously and I was aware that (1) in Weymouth we would most likely be rafting, probably alongside smaller yachts than ourselves and (2) there was a strong possibility of a night-time approach, and I didn't fancy either possibility coming in after a long day and in light of the fact that we bashed Torquay on the way in.

Another decision you have to make on this passage is which way to get past Portland Bill, which is a nasty little bugger of a place with a well deserved reputation for it's nasty tidal races, overfalls, eddies and general bumpiness. I decided on the offshore route - in which you go further out, avoiding the worst of the nastiness.

In the event we had a short but significant sea coming in from the South West, hitting us from the starboard quarter and regularly slamming.

Slamming is when a larger wave in the series hits the bottom of the central bridge deck - the bit that is normally above the water - this causes the whole boat to shake and carried on intermittently for the best (or worst...) part of eight hours. The first time this happened it was terrifying but subsequently it settled down to merely scary and eventually tedious and wearing.

As we approached Portland we managed to phone the National Coastwatch point there and had a reassuring chat with the volunteers regarding our intentions and the state of the race. As the weather was not bad, the tides were on neaps, our timing was good and we were well offshore then we were apparently having a good day. I can only say that I'm glad we didn't choose a bad day. After a hour or more of being bounced around like a 4 year old on a sugar rush let loose on the trampoline we phoned again and were informed that we were doing great. This is true - we now knew what we hadn't secured properly and how well this boat of ours would look after us - we now only had another couple of miles to go and we could turn in.

If you hadn't heard about the National Coastwatch Institution should visit their website and specifically the Portland Bill website, if you use the sea at all for any reason or know someone who does then please make a donation if you can. More about the Coastwatch people at another time.

When we turned at the shambles east cardinal buoy we started going with the waves for a bit, which meant a bit of surfing - finally a bit of fun, and this relatively calm bit was when Richard was sick - he'd put up with everything else up till then, even when Andrew was sick in front of him. They were the only two casualties of the day barring George who constantly fell over due to his insistence on wandering around without holding onto anything.

As we made our way in it became obvious that we would indeed be navigating Portland Harbour in the dark, we phoned the marina office to make sure where we were going and wandered in. Portland Harbour is the second largest man-made harbour in the world so it takes quite some time to work your way in. This was only complicated when the red flashing light on the marina entrance started flashing rather more than it should, then took off! We can only be grateful that the coastguard helicopter was not taking off for us I suppose.

We did not bash anything and moored up quite well in the dark after an eleven and a half hour adventure - shaken, but not stirred. A search for fish and chips resulted in a Chinese takeaway and bed for everyone before midnight - just.


From the Shell Channel Pilot sixth edition, compiled by Tom Cunliffe:

Portland Race is the most dangerous extended area of broken water in the English Channel. Quite substantial vessels drawn into it have been known to disappear without trace... In bad weather there is confused and dangerous water as far as the eastern end of the Shambles.

This passage was not taken lightly, or without careful planning.

Lyme Bay Album on Facebook

Weather forecasts

I have the navtex connected and working. We kept it and vhf channel 16 on the other week while the tail of the hurricane passed us by. Both are useful for the weather forecast, but between times the navtex is a great wind monitor. Set to display voltage, if  the windmill sustains around 13.8v or more then you're in a gale. We just peaked at 13.2 from the north, and wind is meant to be 9mph from the west.

Weather forecasts? Hope the rest of the week is better, hopefully we're on our way soon, as long as we can get the starboard engine sorted - it's not happy.

Out of interest, if you're out there Martin, how does she handle close to on only one engine?

Getting Closer

The house is under offer, eBay is under sustained attack, work knows I'll be handing in my notice as soon as the house sale is solid and we've taken delivery of the solids separator which is the essence of my heads plan.


Everything is happening at once and I alternate between exhaustion, excitement and fear. Mostly exhaustion, it must be said.

EDIT: Overly political nonsense removed. I am too chilled for that now...

Spring Equinox tides

Big tides, calm weather, no worries.

Nice Dad and son trip for me and George though. I listened carefully for anything untoward rather than get out of bed to watch. Sounded fine, apparently it could have been different with strong southerlies and a swell.

We were there though, just in case, but it must be said that big spring tides against a quay proved quieter than a night on a mooring in Falmouth.

Microwaves gone and I've painted some skirting boards. Microwave went off with aid of winch, halyard and poor advice from skipper. Mate handled it fine though and its on it's way to being a baked bean tin as we speak (write? read? - you get the idea.)

She rides!

I got back from moving Tarquilla to her new home last night. This involved, for me, driving to Falmouth where I met up with Mark from Trysail, our delivery skipper. We then inflated the evil avon dinghy and attached the immortal seagull and bounced over to Tarquilla on her technically stolen mooring where she has lived for nearly a decade as far as I can tell. Apart from the time she was blown off it by a storm of course.

We then motored her over to the fuel barge where we loaded up with 100 litres of the best red diesel and a stuntman called Jamie. Pretty soon it was time to move, and as we motored out of Falmouth the starboard engine stopped. It turned out that the tap on the day tank was for fuel to the generator and the engine and as such should probably not have been turned off. So once I had agreed to another year of car insurance over the phone (great timing...) which I have no intention of using to the full, I was steering out while Jamie and Mark were upside down in the engine room/master cabin number 2 clearing airlocks.

My instructions were to head out and turn left, but don't go to close to those rocks. Once in deeper water the depth sounder started working again, which was nice although once you have 200 feet below you, you're really already past the point where such things matter.

Pretty soon we put the sails up and then shut off the engines and Tarquilla proved to move rather better than anyone expected under twin headsails with a very, very ratty mizzen to steady her. She also seems to track
really quite well as long as you relax a bit. A small part of had, of course, expected her to move slowly but surely and track perfectly straight down. Davy Jones cheated, we pressed on.

A little ahead of schedule Jamie spotted the Eddystone lighthouse, which meant we were progressing far better than expected. Or, of course, that the navy are now experimenting with camouflage on surfaced submarines.

The night pressed on with a two hours on, four off  watch system and about 45 minutes before sunrise we were at the mouth of the Exe, waiting for a bit of light to see where we were going.

The entrance to the Exe has altered in recent years but the principal remains, first find the safe water buoy, which is a red and white buoy flashing morse for A (dot dash - you can bet I checked that before writing it down). Then you follow the channel marker buoys in. The route is very winding and, for me, came alarmingly close to first the beach at Exmouth on one side, and then everything else on the other side of the river. It is very important when doing this to note that the red and green lights on the buoys flash. The red and green lights on the railway signals running up beside the river do not. Tarquilla can take to the ground, she cannot however run up the rails to Paddington.

After some minor alterations to where and in which direction she lay alongside the quay at Topsham, Tarquilla was in her new home. You can see her too, just follow this link and select Topsham Quay in the presets, and there she is. At low tide she wallows in deep mud and at spring highs next weekend she'll be right up at the top of the quay with me there trying to keep her safe.

To Mark and Jamie, a great trip was had and I couldn't have asked for better company.

Once this was done I had to wait for the tide so I could check the lines when she reached the mud. This happened with me asleep on watch, so another huge thank you goes to Russ in the huge steel converted dredger George Campbell for waking me up when the starboard stern wasn't settling quite right. I have already been very lucky with the the people I have met in the boating world and I can only hope this continues.

Next step was train to Penryn, above Falmouth, walk to Land Rover Scubbery at Flushing, drive to Topsham to make sure she's still there and leave contact numbers with Russ (thanks again) and then drive home.

Right now I'm home and exhausted, last nights sleep doesn't really seem to have been enough. I feel that I should go down to her, throw away a microwave(!) and some rotting mattresses, try to stop the windows leaking any more. Something. Or paint the house a bit. Instead I think I'll just go back to bed.

After I've checked that webcam of course.

And the weather forecast.