YACHTS AND MEN-OF-WAR
Cowes is without rival in the world as a yachting place and the most
celebrated of all yacht clubs, the Royal Yacht Squadron, has its
headquarters here. During Cowes Week, in the beginning of August,
distinguished visitors flow in such numbers to the place that the
accommodation is strained to the utmost. Cowes follows Ascot and
Goodwood, and is patronized not only by titled persons of every kind,
but by millionaires of the newest type, to say nothing of crowned heads
from Europe. Yachting is indeed the sport of Kings, and money flows like
water. Though many of the wealthy owners find quarters aboard, there are
enough to take up all the rooms that Cowes can supply, and princely are
the prices paid for what is, in some cases, most old-fashioned and
inconvenient accommodation. Perhaps the very contrast of the narrow
winding street and the curious old houses may have an attraction of its
own for those who usually live in mansions or castles. The club-house is
on the sea-front, and has a jetty at which only members or officers of
the navy have the privilege of landing. Sir William Davenant passed some
of his imprisonment in what is now the club-house, and wrote there his
poem _Gondibert_. Beyond the club is the part of Cowes quaintly called
Egypt, though why no one seems to know; perhaps it was merely due to the
idiosyncrasy of the former owner of the large house standing here.
A few practical hints on yachting at Cowes and on the anchorage there
may be added:
The Solent is one of the best cruising grounds in England--some say in
the world--for small yachts such as can be handled by amateurs. It
combines the safety of an inland lake with the excitement of occasional
rough seas: and in case of bad weather coming on there is always a safe
port within a few miles. Moreover, its many creeks and inlets afford
opportunities for dinghy explorations in the midst of pleasant scenery,
while the yacht is left safely anchored in harbour. But this cruising
ground has certain difficulties also to be reckoned with; the shore
lines are so broken, the tides so peculiar, and the beacons so
confusingly numerous, that a few hints may be acceptable.
First, as to the yacht. Any amateur yachtsman should be capable of
managing, with the assistance of a companion, a yacht of from 5 to 8
tons. Such a yacht should have accommodation for two in the cabin and
one in the forecastle, who may either be a friend, or a paid hand, man
or boy.
It is of course much the pleasantest if one possesses one's own yacht,
or can at any rate do without professional assistance; failing this, it
is possible to hire a yacht by engaging one early in the season; later
on it is difficult to find a suitable craft. As a rule, the owners of
small yachts do not care to let them to strangers without a man; and
rightly so, for although the Solent is a safe cruising ground, yet
accidents are quite possible, especially in the crowded harbours, owing
to the strength of the tides. The cost of hiring a 5 or 6 ton yacht,
with one hand, used to be from £4 to £6 a week. The price varies
according to the place she is hired from, the length of time, the
arrangements about food for the "hand," the time of year, etc. For
early or late in the season, the terms will be less than at its height.
The best plan is to advertise in the yachting or local papers, stating
the kind of craft required. And if a suitable yacht cannot be found at
Cowes or Southampton, it may be as well to try Lymington or Poole, at
which places, especially the latter, the price will probably be
considerably less. Excellent centre-board boats of 3 to 4 tons, with
large open cockpits, easily handled by one amateur, can be had at about
10s. a day from the boat-owners on the West Quay at Southampton. Such
craft seldom have sleeping accommodation, but they are very handy for
cruising among mud-banks, as the drop keel "acts as a pilot," and can be
lifted if one gets caught. When hiring one of these boats, see that
there is an anchor and a warp on board.
The yachts anchor in Cowes Roads, the small ones inside the harbour, on
the east side of the red and white chequered buoys which mark the
fairway. It is forbidden to anchor in the fairway. Be careful not to
anchor too near the "Shrape Mud," a large spit running out from the
eastern shore, or you will ground at low tide. If this part of the
harbour be too crowded, you can run up above the floating bridge
between East and West Cowes, into the Medina River, remembering,
however, that the tide runs very strongly in and out of the harbour,
causing danger in light winds. If you decide to take up a berth in the
Medina, drop your anchor in the channel, and then warp in near the bank,
making fast to some of the yachts lying on the mud. This will get you
out of the way of the barge traffic, which is considerable.
There is nothing much to say about Cowes, except in its connection with
yachting. The two parts of the town are joined by a floating bridge,
which takes every sort of vehicle over as well as crowds of
foot-passengers.
In an island so small as Wight every man must know the sea and be at
heart a sailor, and even were he not born so the proximity of Portsmouth
and Southampton with their men-of-war, affording constant opportunity
for seeing the latest constructions in battleships, would arouse the
feeling in him.
The island, lying across the harbour, forms a splendid natural
breakwater to our strongest port; and it is by a special providence that
in the ages long ago this part was so broken off from Hampshire and
separated by the sea, or great part of the value of this coast would
have been lost. The Solent has, however, dangers of its own, and the
constant shifting of sandbanks makes its navigation a precarious job.
"And to the northe, betwixt the foreland and the firme,
She hath that narrow sea which we the Solent terme,
Where those rough ireful tides, as in their straits they meet
With boystrous shocks and rores each other rudely greet,
Which fiercely when they charge and sadlie make retreat,
Upon the bulwark forts of Hurst and Calsheet beat."
DRAYTON.
There are several shipwrecks which have occurred here and at the other
side of the island which may be said to have become classic. The best
known of all was the terrible loss of the _Royal George_ off Ryde in
1782. This was one of the most extraordinary accidents that ever befell
our navy. It was just before the Peace of Versailles, while England
needed every ship she had. It had been feared that Gibraltar was in
danger, and the _Royal George_ of 100 guns, one of the finest ships then
in the navy, was ordered out to relieve the place. While still in the
Solent it was found she needed a slight operation of careening, and she
was inclined over a little to enable the workmen to get at their job
without putting her back into dock. There were over nine hundred men in
the crew, and besides them at least three hundred women and children who
had come to see them off and take a last farewell. The ship was in
command of Admiral Kempenfeldt, who was writing in his cabin at the
time. A sudden squall struck the vessel and sent her far over first to
one side and then to the other, and before anyone had time to realize
the danger she swung upright and went down like a stone. Only about four
hundred souls out of all on board were saved, the Admiral himself
perishing with the majority. Afterwards bodies came ashore at Ryde in
great numbers. This dreadful catastrophe would certainly have lived for
ever in the annals of English naval history, but it was made still
better known by the poem which the poet Cowper wrote on it, familiar to
every school child, beginning:
"Toll for the brave, the brave that are no more."
A somewhat similar catastrophe happened just about a hundred years later
on the other side of the island. In 1878 the _Eurydice_ was passing
along by the Undercliff under full sail. She was a training-ship, full
of young lads, and the strong wind which could be felt in all its fury
on the Downs above hardly touched her in the shelter below. Owing to
some dreadful carelessness, however, she turned the corner still under
canvas, was caught suddenly by a frightful squall, and thrown on her
beam-ends. She never recovered, but went down straight in an awful
tempest of sleet and snow which added to the horror and confusion. Of
all the promising boys on board only three were picked up by a passing
boat, and two alone survived.
St. Catherine's lighthouse stands not far from here, on the most
southerly point of the island; its flashlight, said to be the most
powerful in the world, throws a beam equal to 15,000,000 candles, and
warns ships afar off of the dangerous coast. It is peculiarly
appropriate that there should be a lighthouse here, for, so long ago as
1323, Walter de Goelyton built a chapel on Chale Down dedicated to St.
Catherine, assigning certain rents to a chantry priest to say mass, and
also to provide lights for "the safety of such vessels as chanced to
come on that dangerous coast during the night." At the Dissolution the
whole income was seized by the Crown.
[Illustration: GODSHILL. _Page 58._
Is one of the prettiest villages in the island.]