Sod the Nab, bring on St Vaast

Report from Whistler (Class 4)

"Bring on the Nab Tower"

Stirring stuff from our Race 3 report, soon to be replaced with "where is the Nab Tower", "will we ever get round the Nab Tower" and "sod the Nab Tower, let's go home"

It had all started so well, refreshed from the usual conviviality in Gosport (now doubly dangerous as we are parked between Xploiter and a very friendly Irishman), after at least 4 ½ hours sleep, we set off and arrived exactly at the appointed minute to collect the rest of the fearless wave-warriors that make up "Team Whistler".

Fortified by egg and bacon rolls we made a cracking start (on Whistler all starts are "committee vessel starts" with the crew forming a committee on the vessel to overrule the skipper and tell him where to place the boat!) We picked up the pace as we went down the Solent and passed Ryde admirably well placed.

It is at this point that, with the benefit of the full 20:20 hindsight, we hold our hands up and say we celebrated just a smidge too early… We dropped off the wind, came off a very nice shift and went backwards through the fleet. Scholars of the classics will recognise words such as "hubris" and "nemesis"…

The wind started to go but we edged on. We kedged for a good 3 minutes (just to keep the bowman busy). In desperation as we went through holes in the wind (which began to resemble a pair of old underpants with more holes than wind), the crew sat there making "engine noises" to try and convince Whistler that she was under power - it worked once or twice! At sometime around four we crept round the Nab, hoisted the light kite and started to crawl home, finding the balance between boat speed and VMG to keep moving. We teased our way through the forts watching a procession of listless flapping sails up the Solent in the evening sun.

Would it be another Cherbourg? Sadly this time we were faced with the choice of kedging through a full flood tide in the hope that we could sail/drift from Ryde to the finish (potentially 8 hours away) or bailing out to the comfort of the pub a couple of nautical miles from where we drifted. A 6 to 1 vote, with the skipper democratically hiding his desperation for a pint, and the engine went on.

Disappointing but pretty inevitable. We still had a great sail for much of the day and a good laugh (generally obscene and depraved so I won't repeat it here!)

We'll be ready for St Vaast!