One of the beauties of estuaries is how much they change, by the hour and often even more quickly, according to the tide, the light, the season, the weather. The Teifi (pron. ‘Taivie’) estuary is no exception, and has additional attractions as a ‘different’ place to sail. It empties and fills with the tides through narrows with strong currents: beyond the narrows there is a bar, with swells and breakers, to be navigated around: and beyond the channel past the bar, the open sea and a coastline with ‘beetling cliffs by the surging main’ (although last weekend the main was murmuring benignly rather than surging), wide horizons, and wonderful wildlife.
Last Friday evening in the fading light,’while barred clouds bloom[ed] the soft-dying day’ (since you ask, Keats’ Ode to Autumn), and while I was rigging my boat in the Teifi Boating Club (hereinafter TBC) boat park, hundreds of geese in skeins of 10, 20, 40 flew in low overhead, honking disconsolately to each other as they wheeled and settled on the sand/mudflats of the estuary for the night.
All this by way of introduction to a brief (ha-ha?) account of the Teifi Dayboat Rally, and to rub in what ALL of you MISSED. Only 11 boats this year, only four were visitors such as myself, and for a change there was not a single BR! Swallow Boats were represented by two Storm 17s, a brand new BRE, and my Trouper. Other boats were two Drascombes, two Shipmates (17ft GRP pocket cruisers), two Wayfarers, and an unclassifiable 13 ft GRP dinghy. What might be called a varied/motley fleet. TBC is a friendly, unpretentious venue with a comfy clubhouse, a bar with good beer, and lady members who, as in other years, provided excellent meals. The slipway is ample and not too steep. We were blessed with quiet weather, some sunshine and - mostly - enough wind for fun sailing.
Because tides dominate, we had to make an early start on both days. On Saturday there was enough wind to sail out over the flood, and we went for a cruise past Cardigan Island and up the coast - and some of us saw dolphins, a great thrill. Back through the narrows, now against the ebb, we sailed up the emptying estuary to St Dogmaels, where a sturdy pontoon by a pub with good beer made a natural stopping place for an early picnic before heading for TBC while there was still water, recovery, and mugs of tea. There was time for relaxed socialising and/or a quiet zizz before our early evening meal.
On Sunday there was initially no wind, and engines and towing were needed to assemble the fleet beyond the bar for a ‘race’ of sorts. The wind sprang up quite suddenly, and thereafter we had a good sailing breeze for a course involving a sail across the bay and then round the island (in my book, the main function of islands is to be circumnavigated if at all possible) and back through the narrows to St Dogmaels again. The first few boats made it into the estuary at high water, the later ones had the rapidly increasing ebb to contend with. Back at TBC we were treated to a sumptuous cold buffet before those of us from afar set off home.
Gareth asked us to try a ‘buddy’ system whereby boats in pairs kept in touch with each other on their VHF radios, in addition to the overall radio links centred on a friendly TBC rib which kept an eye and ear on us all. We voted the experiment a success, and ‘buddy banter on seventy two’, which can obviously also be enjoyed by all, has definite potential as an art form.
Thanks yet again to Gareth! For the rally next year, he will look for a weekend with suitable tides which also has space for us among TBC’s own programme of activities - by no means a given. He hopes it can be earlier in the season, ideally in June, but has not done his homework yet (tut-tut, Rowlands), and will doubtless keep us informed once it (the homework) has been marked. It may compete with other suggested rallies, but is WELL worth the journey, and I hope more of us can support it next time. I have tried to whet your appetites!
Michael
