Book 2, Chapter 49

"It’s disgusting! She's young enough to be his granddaughter!”

Spraying my wine all over the tablecloth through my nose did not add appreciably to my air of mature sophistication…

“Do you ever get the urge to, for instance, buy this restaurant on the spot just for the pleasure of throwing customers out?” I said loud enough for the adjacent tables to overhear.

“If I did that each time it happened where would I take my mistresses?”

“‘The evening was sublime. At the theatre we partook of an old-fashioned farce and the farce continued in the nearby Italian restaurant where we repaired for our repast.’” I pretend wrote in an imaginary diary while reading it aloud as the taxi took us back to Uphill.

“Why do people behave like that Bill? It’s as though they live their lives in front of an imaginary audience, talking in clichés and using words that don’t belong in the real world.”

“You’ll have to watch some Harold Pinter plays. We all slip into roles when we stay with one group too long not realising how we look and sound to outsiders. You are going to hear a lot of it in years to come because although you are like everyone you are clearly not exactly like anyone. You will, I suspect, always feel something of an outsider in any group.”

Back at the boat Bill let me go ahead to prepare for bed. Molly was tiny with no privacy so I was glad of his consideration and while cleaning my face and changing into my pyjamas I made hot chocolate drinks for the both of us while he waited outside.

“I don’t want to always be an outsider Bill. My Cardiff friends mean so much to me and I want us always to be friends.”

“I do understand Venus. At your age I was fighting a war with friends I depended on for my life but in the years between then and now many changed to become almost unrecognisable. They are nearly all dead now but they will always be part of me, both as they were at 18 and as they became. The money from our trust and the status the media gives you will protect you to some extent in years to come but don’t lose your friends even when they change; they are what will prevent your protection from becoming a cage.”

Brrrr! It wasn’t like sailing WorthIt in the Caribbean as I peed, washed and generally got ready for the trip ahead in the campsite washrooms. I'd set the alarm for 5:20am which was approaching high tide and time for the BBC Shipping Forecast. Lundy, Fastnet, Sole and Plymouth were the local weather regions and told of the wind backing to the south, force 3 to 4 which was only slightly more than yesterday's. It was ‘a go’ for Flat Holm and Cardiff. As Molly was afloat again I removed the drying legs and secured on deck rather than take mess below; my check of engine oil and water levels showed they were good so I crossed my fingers and hit the starter. Success! Ashore when a car engine doesn’t start there are garages and buses but afloat things are trickier.

Molly isn't magnificent under engine but she puttered along happily down the river in the wind shadow of Brean Down to the south of us. Looking at it I remembered talk of running a barrage from this promontory across to Wales producing huge amounts of hydroelectric power from the tidal flow.

“I don’t know whether the Severn Barrage is a good thing or not Bill. It’s clean power which is good but the wildlife people are complaining. It could fill a large part of Britain's power needs but after our talk about the Dominican Republic I'm not sure that is good for the people in the area in the long term.”

“I’ve created a monster! I don’t know any more than you do but I do know I was hoping for a sail today, not a motor.”

I took the hint by raising the mainsail, unfurling the jib and shutting down the engine as soon as we were clear of Brean Down’s wind shadow. Immediately it became clear that, making 5knots through the water, with a little luck we could get back to Cardiff and through the lock on the last of the tide but looking at Bill enjoying the early morning sun I didn’t want to cut our day short and steered due west to take in the island of Steep Holm. Looking aft, back toward the mainland I saw the water was taking on a little chop as the outgoing tide met the southerly breeze but it was no discomfort and was soon passed through. Although vaguely aware that there were WWII defences and a ruined house on the island I was totally unprepared for Rudder Rock where battlements stood atop cliffs pierced clear through.

With our cameras clicking Molly rounded this western cliff and running downwind against the current made our way the 3 nm to to East Beach on Flat Holm’s NE corner.

“Are you sure you want me to try this Bill? I only thought to anchor and let you ashore by dinghy.”

“Go for it girl! I have confidence in you.”

With the engine running again I dropped the main, furled the jib and set up the drying legs. Then, judging where I was clear of the underwater cable hazard that the chart showed, I dropped a stern anchor, made sure it was holding then inched toward shore until we were aground. I've never been so frightened in all my life! What if we were balanced on a rock? When the tide went out Bill's Molly could fall on her side and might be stove in. Wrecked to be broken up by the next incoming tide.

“Scary isn’t it?” said Bill. “In reality most of Molly’s weight is in her lead keel so she's almost like a roly-poly toy and the legs don’t need to take much weight. Our hearts look at the volume high up and feel a fall is inevitable and that’s why, when I was young, they showed films of London double-decker buses leaning over without falling just to reassure passengers.”

Molly did settle a little in the shingle of East Beach but in almost no time the outgoing tide had left her clear of the water rested on her keel with props stopping her from leaning. With us high and dry the island's warden walked down to check us out. You can visit Flat Holm for a tourist day trip by ferry but I don't think many yachts did what Molly had so I don’t know whether it was Bill's phone call which smoothed the waters or the normal way of things. Either way the warden made us welcome and we not only got a guided tour of the seabird nesting sites, the lighthouse and the old gun batteries but we had lunch with him. Bill supplied fresh salad and a cod dish which he had prepared on the way into Uphill and marinated overnight in the ice box. The warden supplied the oven and a healthy appetite for fresh food.

For some reason the warden was reluctant to see us go. It could have been Bill's charm or perhaps despite the beauty of his surroundings he was missing female company but the now incoming tide left us no choice and all was not well. I knew that with the South wind there was a low pressure to the west-northwest of us but with only light winds hadn’t thought that the approaching system would bring an ocean swell into the Bristol Channel. I asked Bill to forget the single-handing test for a moment so he should coordinate the use of the engine with my winching on the stern led anchor rode.

A swell came in, I turned the winch handle, Bill revved the engine in reverse Molly lifted and… Crash! as the water level dropped. Again a swell came in, Molly lifted and… Crash! but this time a little further out. A third time a swell came in, Molly lifted and…. we were afloat with me now hauling in the anchor rode by hand as fast as I could while Bill reversed Molly into deeper water. The warden waved from the shore as Molly's bows pointed out to sea as though what he'd seen were an everyday event. Perhaps it was as I had no other experience to measure it against.

Time for tea said Bill leaving Molly in my dubious charge as he went below. Mainsail up, jib unfurled and I put Molly on a reach pointed west-northwest confident that the now strong incoming tide would make our course over the ground north-northwest straight toward Cardiff. I grabbed my phone from below, hit the name and on hearing my call answered said, “6 o’ clock at the lock. We’re coming home Philip.”