Fryers Bay to Beaumaris 17/18th October 2004-10-18

Fryers Bay to Beaumaris 17/18^th October 2004-10-18 Written by Graham Platts

Retrieval of ‘Quinag’

Well I’ve been naughty again, assisting Steve, a sailing friend retrieve his Swift 18 ‘Quinag’ from a swinging mooring just outside Beaumaris Isle of Anglesey, when I really should have stayed at home working on my boat or maybe generally doing all the jobs around the house that have been neglected since I took up this sailing lark.

Steve has helped me launch or retrieve on a couple of occasions in the past on Windermere and I was simply reciprocating, but also hoping to get a nice sailing trip into the bargain.

His insurance expired at the end of the month and with relatively few, commitment free, week-end dates left, the 17/18^th seemed favourable. The weather forecast was closely monitored mainly N.W. F4-5 occasional 6 and spring tides due, the date was set.

On the quiet I think Cath, Steve’s wife, his usual sailing partner was relieved that I had stepped in to help. Her recent experiences included several cold, wet, rough and windy passages, being bitten by midges in Scotland, tramping along deep wellie-sucking muddy shores, suffering mal de mer and testing the efficiency of her automatic inflating lifejacket by dunking herself in the marina at Fleetwood, the enjoyable aspects of sailing perhaps wearing a little thin.

The general plan involved a 09:00 start from Preston, a two and half to three hour journey to arrive at the bay in sufficient time to prepare and use the mid-day high water to venture up the sheltered east coast of Anglesey to Moelfry for an overnight stop and the inevitable visit to the local. On the following day return to Beaumaris slipway for retrieval on the mid-day Sunday high water. This seemed pretty straightforward but of course the best laid plans don’t always work do they!

In reality we arrived at the bay with an easterly wind blowing onto the shore creating tricky little choppy waves lapping on to the short slipway, not too high but high enough to cause concern. The intrepid sailors continued with the plan, parked the car and trailer in a lay-by, inflated the small dinghy, attached the small dinghy outboard and prepared for the first trip to the waiting Swift bobbing about like the proverbial cork approximately 200 yards or so on its swinging mooring. We decided to take the main outboard across first, so with wellies and waterproofs on we loaded the rather large main outboard into the rather small dinghy, lifted and paddled down the short slipway, leapt in beside the engine (which occupied most of the space) and tried to start the small dinghy outboard, and again and then again. By this time the effect of the on-shore wind and the on-shore waves swept us back onto the shore and the now breaking waves swept into the dinghy submerging the main engine in a bath of salt water, oops!

This whole episode had been observed by a passing motorist with a quizzical smile, who happened to be the local Coastguard, and even if he had not asked us to promise not to try again we would probably have aborted the launch anyway; or would we?

Stood on the pebbly shore among the flea infested sea weed, wet and bedraggled with a waterlogged dinghy under the ever watchful eye of the coastguard I couldn’t help reminding myself that Cath should have, could have, been experiencing this!

Time to have lunch and review the situation.

Eating our pre-packed sandwiches and drinking luke-warm coffee from a useless thermos we sat on the beach, stared out to the inaccessible Quinag and tried to convince ourselves that the sea was becoming calmer. Maybe a post lunch walk to Beamaris to wash down the sandwiches with a soothing beer might somehow put a different perspective on the situation and it worked. On our return we first checked that the Coastguard chappie was out of sight and re-inflated the dinghy, donned our wellies and waterproofs, loaded the main outboard and paddled once again into the bay, the engine on the dinghy fired up and soon enabled us to position and run the main engine on Quinag to ensure that the ‘impromptu’ bath had not caused any damage.

All that was needed now was a return trip to load our luggage and once again we paddled into the sea leapt into the dinghy, started the outboard and the very next wave bounced us on the bottom and sheared the drive pin, but luckily we had oars to continue. We paddled canoe style, quite comfortably for the first 100 yards or so but soon realised the current was increasing in the wrong direction causing us to paddle progressively harder until the oars became a furious blur with just enough joint strength, pulling our last reserves to grab the back of the boat. Another ten minutes later we could have been on our way to Puffin Island, no boat, no engine, no flares but we did have our now wet luggage. Sitting in the cockpit, sweating at the brow and observing the wet luggage I couldn’t help reminding myself that Cath should have, could have experienced this.!

Both Steve and I attempted to remove the offending sheared pin from the shaft of the motor but shortage of suitable tools prevented us and the motor was then stowed on the pushpit bracket unusable.

The overall delay meant that sailing to Moelfry was not an option and we resigned ourselves to a relaxing short sail in the Menai Strait and later made our way to a mooring buoy close to the pier and public slipway by the Coastguard station at Beaumaris. By now, high water had passed and the tide rushing back prevented us from attempting to battle with the oars yet again to get ashore, we’d had enough for one day. The evening meal was thus taken on board and consisted of the following days pre-packed sandwiches washed down with coffee; even the bottled beers that Steve had brought were left untouched.

We listened to the Coast guard weather forecast indicating F4-5 occasional 6 for the following day and hit the sack early. The expected sheltered conditions of the mooring actually turned the boat into a white knuckle ride that continued throughout the night bringing on queasiness and the precaution of taking some medication just in case. Listening to the curious banging, creaking and rubbing noises and mesmerised by the reflected light revolving round the roof and sides of the cabin produced by the constant rocking motion, and feeling just a little bit tired but unable to sleep, I couldn’t help reminding myself that Cath should have, could have been experiencing this!

We awoke (did we sleep?) in complete calm, the forecasted F4-5 nowhere to be seen and had a leisurely breakfast consisting of some rather delicious tasting breakfast bars with an early morning coffee. The conditions beckoned another albeit short sail before retrieval and we decided to sail back to the original mooring and prepare the boat as much as possible for the journey back. We then motored as close to the shore as possible to provide an easier dinghy ride for Steve to row ashore, pick up the car and trailer and drive to the slipway while I motored back to the buoy, waited until I saw his car pass by and then make my way also to the slipway. While on the mooring buoy waiting for Steve’s signal I was confronted by a Coastguard crew with the usual quizzical smiles asking of our intentions, I felt comfortably reassured that they were around and doing an excellent job.

By the time I arrived at the slipway, Steve was already in the water with the trailer submerged in position with his shorts and trainers (brave fellow), shivering instructions while guiding me onto what would have been a first time approach but for the fact that I couldn’t readily remove the handy split pin holding down the lift up rudder assembly. I had to go around again, remove the offending pin with pliers and then straight on to the trailer on the next approach at a speed that Steve exclaimed ‘too fast’ but I knew what I was doing, I’ve done this at least once before.

The rest of the retrieval would also have been a complete success except for the fact that the slipway was littered with Coast guards and their vehicles obstructing the ideal tow line up the incline, however they did supply the necessary oomph when it was needed. Many hands made light work and soon the whole purpose of the weekend visit had been accomplished but for dismasting and preparing for the road which we performed fairly quickly helped by the knowledge that a well deserved meal and pint beckoned.

In contrast to the previous excitement and experiences the journey home proved uneventful, the only stimulation coming from bets on how long the passenger fly could adhere itself to the windscreen. Traffic congestion allowed it to escape and 20mins won the day, amazing. Well, Quinag is now laid up for the winter, maybe I’ll get a trip or two next year.