The last time I looked at a map of Milford Haven was when I was attempting to revise O level Geography to the sounds of Black Sabbath and Leonard Cohen. I remember that Milford Haven was a big oil refinery built within a national park. Not my first choice for a summer holiday!
We joined the holiday late so the report will inevitably miss out at least two of the best days of the annual week break with the Laser Cruising Association. The decision to camp was based on poor logistical planning - I had not thought about it beforehand - and the not to be missed opportunity to camp in the grounds of the Royal Pembrokeshire Sailing Club. The club is actually almost entirely enclosed by, what the Pembrokeshire Coast National Park Coast Path series describes as 'Jetty for Amoco Refinery (located inland and almost entirely within National Park boundary). County's newest refinery, on stream 1973." In the end the facilities and company were excellent with the boats and water within yards of our tent. Inevitably after a few days of sailing and camping the campsite began to resemble something closer to an Afghanistan refugee camp, although Christine was still able to serve tea and cake for fifteen people at the end of a days sailing. The days have long ago merged into each other so what follows is not in any chronological order but in an order that comes from my deep sub-conscious (whatever that means). On
a beautifully hot day we sailed right down the estuary to Dale under near
perfect sailing conditions i.e. it was not too scary! Dale was a stereotypical
Laser Cruising Association stop with the chance of drinks, ice cream and
toilets. Far too peaceful so we followed Bruce and Angela heroically to
a sandy beach closer to the open sea and disturbed the peace and tranquillity
of a large number of people who foolishly thought they had found a beach
inaccessible to the mass public. Little did they know! By now we were now
reaching; dangerously high body temperatures on the hottest day of the
summer in our dry-suits. The next stage of the expedition reminded me why
I feel inadequate unless I can touch the sea bottom or if I am further
than 100 yards from the beach. Bruce had clearly decided that things were going far too well and the day lacked any sort of excitement- doesn't he get this at work or at home? Turning right, after leaving
the beach, we headed out into the open sea in the biggest swell we have
ever experienced since sailing on Draycote Reservoir five years ago. Why
was Angela turning round all the time looking at our boat? The sail not
quite trim? I was looking seasick? No, it was actually to take the photograph
of our boat at the bottom of the swell when they were at the top - the
photograph showing lots of water and the top half of our mast. Feeling vulnerable and sensitive from the previous day I was the first to show enthusiasm for going up the estuary and dodging the local boats and oil tankers rather than facing
the open sea again (well at the mouth of the estuary!). We sailed without
incident to a pub close to Neylands although I am always pleased to be
amongst the first to moor on pontoons so that my skills level are not too
stretched or put on public show. As it was it was no problem because the
co-captain was in charge and sailed along side the pontoon with the same
ease as the oil tanker captain we avoided earlier in the day. All this
was fine, good weather, good company and fantastic locations. Things had
to change. And they did. For at least two days we had virtually no wind. Nearly all the boats had engines so the proposal was to sail across the estuary to Angle Bay where there was a pub without
any trapping of the last two centuries and the best and freshest crab sandwiches
ever. We carried on further down the estuary but decided to turn round
once we realised that refuelling mid-stream without the aid of a funnel
so not good seamanship, although the petrol spilt on the outside of the
engine did not actually catch fire. My only excuse is that this was our
first trip ever with an outboard motor. 1 also learnt that day that the
power of the outboard was no match for the outgoing tide, moving at a matter
of no knots whatsoever we wondered if we were actually moving back home
or just "treading water". The following day was again memorable because of its total lack of wind. An excellent proposal to walk part of the Pembrokeshire Coastal Path around St.Anne's Head was made by
some one at the back of the morning briefing. Photographs of the day are
characterised by several members of the "leisure sailing " club sleeping
on the coastal path after lunch in the sun. As usual the week was an excellent assortment of sailing, safe but also adventurous, good pub food, story telling over drinks and relaxation. I would recommend it to any one!
