The alternative Round the Island Race Guide

Dipping into the history books, The Snake reveals some colourful detail about the Isle of Wight's coast line

This year’s JP Morgan Asset Management Round the Island Race 2005 (JPMAMRTIR2005) takes the prize for both the longest title of a yacht race held in the UK and the largest number of yachts entered in this unique event’s 69 year history. For some of the thousands of crew expected to complete the course, the race will be tactical and tense regardless of light or heavy conditions. However, for those sailing on yachts that have joined the fleet for its carnival or corporate qualities or may find themselves on the crew periphery, the race can often seem a long and, occasionally, slow procession.

To amend this situation, The Snake offers an alternative, cut-out-and-keep guide to the JPMAMRTIR2005. The trivia contained in the guide will - if studied and used correctly - enable newcomers and veterans to blither convincingly for the duration of this race:

Leg 1. Cowes to the Needles:

Whatever emotion or objective has encouraged you to take part in the race, it is unlikely that a start crowded with 1,600 boats will provide much time for sightseeing or reflection. It is, though, worth imparting a few details about Cowes. One important fact that may prove useful in pre-race banter is the origin of the town’s name. If a barstool Jedi or yacht club oracle begins pontificating on this subject, the following information may prove useful in any subsequent conversation:

Henry VIII, the monarch responsible for the Solent’s oldest fortifications, built two semi-circular batteries or 'cows' at the entrance to the Medina River. These defences were to protect Carisbrooke Castle further upstream, not the small, ramshackle fishing village - originally called Shamford - at the river’s mouth. The eastern cow was demolished and its location only remains in the name Castle Point, while the western cow provided foundations for the hallowed battlements of the Royal Yacht Squadron (RYS). Indeed, the club’s members (and their wives, known as 'lambs'…?) still refer to the club as “The Castle.”

Leaving Cowes, it is likely that the frenetic action of the start line will continue as yachts pass Gurnard Ledge with the bolder and smaller boats heading close inshore to use the tide rip from the western tip of this hazard. Soon, it may become possible to start sightseeing; usually when level with the dense and mysterious Burnt Wood, just west of Thorness Bay. Directly offshore the wood are the fingers of Salt Mead Ledge which, again, can provide an extra knot as the tide shoots from their tips.

By the time the wood is passed and you draw level with the Ministry of Defence firing range (a red flag from the post atop the hill signals a potential for incoming fire), it is an appropriate time to start fidgeting and muttering about drinks, tea, food, painkillers or cigarettes. To the west of the firing range lies Newtown Creek; without doubt one of the prettiest and mellowest areas on Britain’s south coast…..but this so easily may not have been the case. Fifty years ago, a proposed nuclear power station threatened to turn this paradise into a toxic swamp; a move that was halted by landowners along the Newtown River and around the creek’s foreshore collectively donating their property to the National Trust. This swift action means that visitors can now anchor their yachts in a nature reserve rather than a radioactive soup. The creek is a popular sailing destination at weekends and from a distance appears as a pin cushion of masts against a backdrop of the hills inland. It can only be hoped that none of the JPMAMRTIR2005 will still be passing the creek at low tide, but the entertaining sight of masts at amusing angles towards the eastern, shallow end of Newtown, known as Clamerkiln Lake, is frequent evidence of incautious anchoring.



Next visual highlight is the small town and harbour of Yarmouth, the prettiest and most relaxed of the yachting destinations on the Island’s northern coast. Distanced from the frenetic pace and burden of tradition in Cowes and devoid of the stifling self-obsession of Bembridge and Seaview, this port is an essential stop over. Should fatigue, gear failure or injury force retirement from the race, this is the haven to head for. The JPMAMRTIR2005 race instructions warn that yachts must not sail into the moorings to the west of the pier and harbour entrance, which should also keep you clear of jagged Black Rock just further west. To avoid giving local sailors the jitters, yachts would be wise to keep clear of the moorings to the east of the pier where a small and precious fleet of X and Y one designs reside. Sailing too close to the pier head can also involve being hooked by one of the local fishermen who seem capable of casting lines across the Solent and into the mouth of Lymington River on the Mainland.

Those in search of the quicker current along Shingles Bank may now head across to the Mainland shore towards Hurst Castle, careful to dodge the Trap sandspit. For those on the Island side of the Solent, the first view of the Needles is accompanied by the clanging of Sconce buoy off the remains of the once mighty Fort Victoria. The hypnotic effect of the Needles is legendary and many yachtsmen become entranced; this may explain why so many boats collide with the area’s most infamous wreck. Before the Needles, however, is Alum Bay; site of multicoloured cliffs and an amusement park resembling a mini Las Vegas for the under-12s. Other than slot machines, the clifftop is the site of Marconi’s first wireless transmission in 1897.

Those with time on their hands and powerful binoculars, may spot two horizontal slits in the cliff just above the tide line at the bay’s western end. Frequently mistaken for gun emplacements, these openings in the sandstone are exhaust vents for a top secret rocket testing site highly active between 1950-70. While scientists were content to test the engines for the sinister Black Knight and Black Arrow missiles at the Needles, “live firing” involved an impressive NIMBY (Not In My Back Yard) manoeuvre in shipping the rockets to South Australia’s 127,000 sq. km. Woomera Prohibited Area. For this reason, you need not pack a Geiger Counter for a stroll around West Wight, while the outback areas of Emu Field and Maralinga (translation: “Field of Thunder”) are still contaminated.

The Needles – finally. Yachts taking the inside track and cutting the corner face the twin perils of Goose Rock (the submerged base of a once mighty chalk pillar known as “Lot’s Wife” until it crashed to the seabed in 1764) and the wreck of the 4,000 ton freighter, SS Varvassi. In bound to Southampton from Algeria in January 1947 with a cargo of oranges, the skipper of this Greek ship chose to stop his engines while waiting to take a pilot onboard….and then could not restart them. This error provided a busy day for the Yarmouth Lifeboat and a plentiful source of vitamin C for the town during a grim period of post-World War II food rationing. Although the wreck’s hull has disintegrated, her boilers and engines – resting 100 m from the lighthouse - can prove a nasty surprise for anyone pushing their luck.



Leg 2. The Needles to St. Catherine’s Point:

Once past the Needles, the smaller yachts inshore can make use of the tidal gains on the inside track. Those who do venture inshore will be assisted by the lobster pots that helpfully mark every rock at the foot of the cliffs and a number of offshore ledges in the area between Scratchells Bay, immediately south of the Needles, and Freshwater Bay, three miles along the coast from the lighthouse.

One exception to this is the large, unmarked slab of chalk in the middle of Scratchells below the vertical cliffs and off the bay’s parabolic cave. This flat-topped altar of rock claimed a richly laden Dutch East Indiaman in October 1627 and local salvage teams arrived as the Campden started to break up. Working with large hooks and long tongs, the wreckers were swiftly upstaged by the arrival of a Dutch salvage entrepreneur, 'Jacob The Diver' Johnson on a large, well equipped boat. Using his pioneering equipment, Johnson scrabbled about on the seabed collecting the ship’s spilt cargo of lead ingots and silver bullion much to the disgust of the locals whose traditional 'Right of Wreck' had been severely compromised.

Island folklore records a local man whose deathbed wish was a simple burial at Scratchells Bay in the hope of preventing his wife dancing on this inaccessible and watery grave. Modern stories disclose that the concave cliff in the curve the bay is a favourite, nocturnal climbing location for the secretive boats, bazookas and balaclavas branch of the special forces based in nearby ***** Harbour.



On the highest point of the cliffs, slightly south of the bay, stands Tennyson Monument; erected to mark the death of the poet and Island resident, Alfred Lord Tennyson. With poetic whimsy, an inscription on the lofty, unlit structure claims: “This cross is raised a beacon to sailors.” Race boats hugging the base of the vertical wall of chalk will miss the monument but may notice two small caves at sea level directly below the position of the tall stone cross. Known locally as the 'Kitchen' and the 'Parlour,' these caves were the favoured party venue for Baron Worsley (more of this family later) and are collectively called 'Worsley’s Caves'. Although sea levels have risen since the noble (and naughty) Baron’s time, any yachts passing the caves during the JPMAMRTIR 2005 will deduce that Worsley’s guests probably didn’t linger during the flood tide playing billiards, swapping war stories or indulging in some the rather more questionable party activities on offer.

Cutting across Compton Bay, all yachts should clear the cluster of rocks at Hanover Point towards the southern extremity of this broad recess in the Island’s coastline; an area where the chalk cliffs dip and rise again to the south as sandstone (geologists will tell you that this bulge of high ground represents the northern end of the Alps mountain range….somehow). Just off Hanover Point sits a curious, conical brick structure that many presume is to warn of the rocks further inshore. Although the cone is a superior perch for cormorants, its original purpose was to prevent the artillery men at the battery above the Needles from showering friendly fire into the Island: Traversing and firing the guns to the left of this marker would mean lobbing high explosives into the quiet village of Niton at the Island’s southern tip.

Five miles further south lies Atherfield Ledge at the northern extremity of Chale Bay; an area known for centuries as 'The Bay of Death'. The southwest coast of the Island is littered with wrecks, but the one incident that holds a senior position in the Island’s collective folk memory requires special attention:

In October 1836, the residents of Chale spotted a heavily reefed ship caught on a lee shore, 'embayed' and blown directly towards land by a westerly gale. Inbound from St. Kitts in the Caribbean, the eleven passengers and seventeen crew were helpless as the monstrous waves and shrieking wind drove them towards the beach; it is unlikely they even heard the warning maroons fired by those onshore. The 345 ton Clarendon hit the beach two boat lengths from the shore and eye-witnesses described how the ship literally exploded within minutes of the impact, hurling those aboard into the foaming waves and scattering her cargo of sugar, rum and molasses. Only three crewmen survived the wreck and the beach was soon littered with disfigured corpses, smashed by the ship’s timbers and crushed into the seabed by the surf. Stunned by the bodies of women and children strewn around the bay, locals put aside any thoughts of plundering the wreck and began the grim task of collecting the dead.

Anyone washed ashore at Chale from the JPMAMRTIR2005 will receive an exotic reception: Just south of Whale Chine (a deep ravine that bisects this bay) is an unofficial naturist colony. Anyone scanning the beach with binoculars should be warned that many of the nudists are of a similar age to the fossils that continually fall from the receding clay cliffs behind the beach. The Snake and some fully clothed friends often use this beach as a picnic spot and are cautious to leave a discreet exclusion zone. However, it is inevitable that one of these fresh air fundamentalists will saunter across and find a fascinating collection of pebbles or shells directly in front of your group….and then spend considerable time bending over and inspecting these wonders. What is it with these people?

The tidal eddies found off the Island’s southern tip at St. Catherine’s Point can provide an obstacle during a slow, light airs circumnavigation. In a windless Round the Island Race some years ago, The Snake was almost put off day boats entirely after spending considerable time cork-screwing around the point in an Etchells. This erratic track provided a prolonged opportunity to study the lighthouse; one of the few British lights to be attacked during World War II. This aerial bombing killed St. Catherine’s three keepers and, today, the light’s refractive lens - now gently turning automatically and untended on a shallow pool of mercury - still bears chips and cracks from the deadly shrapnel storm.

One of the few, intentional wrecks off the Island rests in deep water south of the point. After a sailing career that spanned 42 years and 635 races, the royal yacht Britannia was towed to St. Catherine’s and scuttled shortly after the death of her final owner, George V. Although the king’s instructions that none should sail on the beloved Britannia after his death were met, the Islander’s heritage of stripping condemned ships prevailed: Visiting a number of homes in Cowes reveals an eclectic collection of rigging, spar sections, deck fittings, internal panelling and furniture from this mighty yacht.



Leg 3. St. Catherine’s to Forelands:

In contrast to the broad bays of the Island’s south-western coast, the shoreline immediately after St Catherine’s Point is riddled with small, secluded coves for about eight miles. While the Atlantic orientation of the coast passed in Leg 2 provided islanders with abundant wrecking opportunities, the south-eastern coast proved ideal for another Island tradition; smuggling. As the leading yachts in the JPMAMRTIR2005 punch the tide inshore they will pass Puckaster Cove and Woody Bay south of Ventnor and monks Bay and Luccombe Chine either side of Dunnose Point; remote locations ideal for offloading contraband that are still relatively unpopulated.

Smuggling is often perceived as a romantic and valiant trade in a “Shiver me timbers and stap me vitals” fashion. It was - and still is - a ruthless, well-planned industry involving huge sums of money. The Island’s early smugglers made considerable fortunes transporting alcohol from France and wisely ploughed the profits back into the business; building faster and better boats. One of the most popular boatyards for the construction of smuggling vessels was Samuel White in West Cowes situated, ironically, within sight of the Island’s original Custom’s House in East Cowes, just a few hundred yards across the Medina River. An innovative local design included space for forty oarsmen, enabling smugglers to head directly to windward leaving a chasing Revenue Cutter tacking in their wake. The situation presumably arose where contraband and customs craft were under construction in adjacent boatsheds.

The 'Back of the Island' still attracts smugglers: In March 2002, a private yacht loaded with an estimated £90 million of cocaine arrived off Ventnor after a 3,000 mile trip from the Caribbean. Caught in a storm and hampered by a faulty outboard motor, the gang were unable to land the drugs at a prearranged location and they eventually anchored in a bay some distance from their hideout. Customs officials involved in 'Operation Eyeful' (surely, 'Noseful') arrested five smugglers struggling along a cliff path with 879 lbs of marching powder. In 1994, an overconfident band of smugglers ordered crewshirts from a Cowes clothes shop embroidered with their yacht’s name. The shop’s owner was later astonished when contacted by highly impressed customs officers who ordered identical shirts embroidered to celebrate the successful bust and arrest of the fashion conscious criminals.

After the headland of Dunnose, many yachts will sail directly for the Bembridge Seamark, off the Island’s eastern tip, rather than sailing into Sandown Bay and risking the wind shadow cast by Culver Down. While it is often said that a few elderly Islanders have never visited the Mainland, there are a larger number who have never set foot in the brash resort towns of Sandown and Shanklin sprawling behind this bay. At the northern end of the bay, a huge monument tops Culver Cliffs; dedicated to Charles Pelham, the Baron Worsley, first commodore of the RYS. Erected shortly after Pelham’s death aboard his yacht Kestrel in 1846, the stone column is covered in script praising His Lordship, who appears to have been an exceptional man and “whose benevolence, kindness of heart and many virtues endeared him to all who knew him.”

The same cannot be said for the previous Baron Worsley - Pelham’s wicked, cave-partying, uncle Richard - who was forced to resign from his post as Governor of the Isle of Wight when he was found to be acting as pimp for his wife, the vivacious and tireless Lady Worsley. As the presiding judge commented in his summing up, Worsley (nicknamed “Worse-than-sly” by a baying tabloid press) was “privy to, consenting, and encouraging this debauchery.” A messy business, indeed, and possibly not a topic that is raised on carefully manicured, yacht club lawns. It may be more than mere coincidence that Pelham’s memorial is located as far as is geographically possible from the orgy caverns of his grubby uncle.

Leg 4. Forelands to Cowes:

As JPMAMRTIR2005 yachts turn into the Solent, they will leave the black pillar of Nab Tower to starboard. Usually regarded as the first of the 'floating forts' guarding Portsmouth, Nab has never been truly warlike. Built during WWI as part of a defence system against German U-boats and destined for installation in the Dover Straits, the 'Mystery Towers' (as they were known) became redundant when peace broke out in 1918. The only completed tower, however, was towed to the location of the existing Nab Light Vessel and lowered into the mud where it immediately developed the slight list that has intrigued so many sailors.

Sailing northwest towards the traditional, Round-The-Island-Race traffic jam at No Man’s Land Fort, yachts will pass the coastal towns of Bembridge and Seaview; settlements that many Islanders refer to as La Côte de Knightsbridge and Chelsea-Sur-Mer after their predominantly 'overner' (Mainland-dwelling) and DFT (Down-From-Town), weekend population. Indeed, a member of the Seaview Yacht Club (SVYC) recently told The Snake; “It’s jolly hard to have a decent conversation about sailing in the club,” adding later “….they all seem to drive RIBs.”

This year, yachts are permitted to sail either side of No Man’s Land Fort due to the recent removal of anti-submarine defences southwest from the battery. Whether the residents of the fort now plan to rig twice as many loudspeakers as usual in order to entertain the race fleet with loud rock music is unknown. Skirting Ryde Sands carefully, sailors may be unaware that the town of Ryde was the original centre of the Island’s cheese industry, producing the local speciality 'choke-dog' made from skimmed milk. Legend tells that during frequent skirmishes with French raiding parties in 15th century, resourceful Islanders would load their muskets with rock hard choke-dog once their ammunition ran out. This is arcane information, but the idea of firing cheese at a Frenchman is deeply poetic.

Ryde’s link with yacht racing stems from the first Fastnet Race in 1925, started off the town and organised by the Royal Victoria Yacht Club; now located out of town, three miles closer to Cowes. The original race numbered seven competitors (around 250 will enter this year) and was won by a pilot cutter, Jolie Brise. This 92 year old yacht - sail number DS2 - will be competing in the JPMAMRTIR2005 racing in the Old Gaffers (original) Class under the supervision of Champagne Mumm….which seems sort of appropriate.



Once passed Ryde, yachts will be in familiar waters bordered by recognisable landscape until the finish line off Cowes. One landmark that will remain unseen and - hopefully - untouched, lurks beneath the Solent; Brambles Bank. This submerged hazard will remain invisible until the big tides of the Autumn Equinox in September bring it to the surface, providing temporary terrain for the bank’s annual cricket match. This event has become so popular that discerning Island sports fans have elected to play football in the fog on a freezing Brambles Bank during the Spring Equinox in March and avoid the crowds.

It is hoped that this guide to the JPMAMRTIR2005 may prove that a race around the Isle of Wight is still all about (conveniently in the appropriate order) sex, wrecks, drugs and rock and roll.