Home Waters Fair Flows The Tide

Jonty Pearce tries to get his timings right as he crosses the lower Bristol Channel from South Wales to North Devon

- Jonty Pearce

When we arrived at Lundy’s anchorage the sea was smooth and the evening sun warm as we settled in the cockpit for a rewarding sundowner. The island’s bay was well sheltered from the westerly breeze and the anchor had dug in well. We made our plans for a morning expedition ashore and relaxed to admire the view. All was well with the world, and we turned in contentedly anticipating a peaceful night’s sleep. How things can change with the turn of a tide! We were woken by the clashing of pans, cutlery, and plates as our Southerly 105 Aurial began rocking violently from side to side. Having failed to block out the cacophony of unwanted sound I accepted that I’d have to take action. Emerging from the comfortable cocoon of my bunk I went on deck. The horizon was bouncing up and down and the stars pirouetted wildly around the anchor light as the masthead swooped from side to side. This would not do at all. The incoming tide sweeping past the south of the island was now bringing in a swell that swung Aurial away from lying head to wind; the waves, albeit small, were abeam with a cadence guaranteed to make her roll her guts out. I pondered our options. The motion was too great to ignore, and leaving Lundy in the middle of the night with the flood tide whipping up the island’s races unwise. I wished I’d equipped Aurial with a flopper stopper, and decided that pushing out the boom with a bucket of water or even the dinghy tied to the end might put unwanted strain on the rigging. After some thought, I adjusted the angle of the anchor cable with a spring brought back to a cockpit winch. Once all was rigged, the pull brought the stern more into line with the swell while the light wind came on to the beam.