Lundy Island Adventures - Tom Bendall sails a Wayfarer a long way off-shore

As a brief prelude to the following, I’d like to mention that an extensive amount of

planning and boat preparation had been put into this trip, which offered perfect

conditions for sailing from Watermouth harbour (North Devon) to Lundy Island on the

Saturday. Our arrival on Lundy had included anchoring the boat in the sheltered

section beneath the Southern lighthouse and a steep climb up to the Marisco Tavern

for dinner. Accommodation was slightly cheekily sought up in the disused lighthouse

rather than carry tents and camping gear.

Despite all the good fortune of the previous day, the weather, which had stirred up

overnight and we had expected to calm for the Sunday return was not what greeted

us in the morning. As we looked down the cliffs and subsequently arrived back at the

boats at anchor we were met 30mph gusts and Force 6.5 conditions with a Low Tide

and Northeasterly winds lingering outside the bay adjacent to Rat Island and

extending well out onwards to the Devon coastline.

On arrival in the cove, I could see another boat crew (1 of 10 Boats) had returned to

his boat by a borrowed canoe and I also followed by swimming back to my boat

Whistler 250m away (which had dragged its anchor to within 10m of the rocks

overnight).

As I scrambled aboard, I immediately felt a collision from the other boat with now a

canoe in tow, it had lost steer on the outboard due to his dagger board not being

pushed down. This led to us becoming fowled between the canoe tether and my

anchor rope. My fairlead was ripped clean off and the only way I could quickly

unravel us both was by throwing away the anchor line as we came perilously close to

the rocks, (If I had a knife I would have cut the canoe loose but just didn’t have one

to hand).

On becoming free I tried to use my oar to paddle the boat away from the rocks but

couldn’t move quickly enough against the wind and waves. I then jumped back into

the water in desperation to hold the boat off the rocks, where I rocked up and down

for a short while. Then fortunately to my relief I saw George from another boat

swimming across to aid me and the other boat. From here I was able to start the

motor and then break away onto a tiny beach.

As I rigged my boat I was in a bit of shock and felt physically drained from the rescue

and recovery of the boat. I weighed up that If I stayed for longer, I would hold up the

other boats and also be stuck without an anchor. Here I was fortunate to be aided by

Jeremy Warren (Wayfaring legend) who, helped me rig 2 reefs into the main sail and

make the overall necessary boat adjustments. This was to be invaluable during the

crossing.

In reflection had I have not lost the anchor nor had the initial shock of very nearly

losing the boat I would have probably opted to wait it out for longer. But as the red

mist of determination descended there was no longer room for indecisiveness. Onlythe absolute belief that the boat, Pierre and I would persevere and weather it out,

hopefully with the winds dropping over the next hour.

On leaving Rat Island we were thrown into the gauntlet and jumped a large wave

and then slammed hard back down before quickly furling in the genoa alongside

pushing the daggerboard up to the third down position. This made the boat sturdier

and improved handling.

Over the course of the following 4.5 hours on open water it was the initial waves

during the 1st hour and a half, which peaked at 5 meters but usually in 30m long

sections during the unpredictable gusts which we nervously contended with hyper

vigilance looking out to threatening swell and the performance of the boat.

My approach during this initial stage was to aim to climb the waves early as possible,

then swiftly duck into the slack water behind as they started to break and roll away.

The S swerves as they became led to a fair amount of water being washed over us

stinging our eyes, but it also helped us escape a few of the larger rollers. So long as

I could see the onboard compass was vaguely heading due East I didn’t concern

myself with looking for distant landmarks for navigation. There were 3 particularly

large waves which broke over the bow during S manoeuvres briefly offsetting our

momentum and boat handling leading to concerned glance back and forth (often with

“well we beat that one”. A testament to the design of the boat was that it allowed us

to crest on through breakers and down into the base of the troughs. Despite this

most of the time we manged to stay in the mid to high range of the swells.

After the 1st hour and a half, conditions started to improve, and we were able to surf

the waves by moving our weight forward to the mid section of the boat next to the

front seat from a previously slightly tilted stern position. This helped increased our

speed as we also gradually unfurled the genoa with the wind placing us on a direct

run with the tide into the pinching section of the Bristol Channel.

Heading past Woolacombe and Bull Point we soon approached Ilfracombe from a

mile offshore. Suddenly the voice of youth sailing kicked in reminding me to move

much closer to shore rather than being pushed too far up towards Bristol. Through

this we avoided later having to fight our way back down again at the end stage of the

trip.

The final leg by comparison was calmer 150m off the North Devon rocks, swiftly

goosewinging the boat whilst in awe and digesting what we had just accomplished.

(There had been plenty of “what if” moments, but it was important to try and stay

relaxed between the big waves as they passed through. (Rather than to stay tense

and risk becoming cramped.)

The words of “For Those in Peril on the Sea” have never felt so poignant as during

that 1st hour. Fortunately of the 10 boats, which set off over the next hour we all

returned (eventually). A few capsizes, one boat lost with its crew rescued by the

RNLI and taken to Appledore. The leader of the trip Jeremy Warren opted for a

genoa sail with far more surfing as it turned out. Lots of post trip exchanges ontactics have been shared but I’d still recommend the S swerve if ever caught in

similar conditions again.

It is often said that 5 unrelated sequential incidents often lead to a disaster. I truly felt

that 1 extra thing could have indeed broken us. The time spent preparing and

packing the boat and car like a parachute was worth every second to stack the odds

in our favour. Rather than take the boat away with the family again the following

week as planned, I decided not to. The following day (1 day before the hosepipe

ban) I thoroughly cleaned the boat and rigging before berthing her up at the boat

club.