This is the third saga in a series I wrote a decade ago and only recently found this one again. You might think that it is based on a true story, I couldn't possibly comment
The others in the series if you haven't seen them:
The Saga of the Bread Loaf
The Saga of St Vaast
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Suddenly the pack of Sunsail
Jeanneau Charter 37s caught sight of the little Moody 31 alone in open
water mid Solent between Cowes and Gosport. The pack quickly gave chase like hounds closing in after a fox. Crewed by hooray henries baying for blood and skippered by eighteen-year-olds with just a zero to hero Yachtmaster course under their belts, they quickly increased the pace determined to catch the little Moody just two hundred yards away.
But they had not reckoned on the wily old Moody
skipper who saw the
danger in an instant. However, he did not panic, for the Solent had been his playground for a quarter of a century of
diving, swimming and sailing. He knew these waters well and would make the use of the dangers they hid this day. Quickly gybing away, he unrolled the remaining
mainsail to increase the speed and distance between him and the leading Sunsail yachts now bearing down on him. Knowing he would be outpaced he set course for the shallows of Osborne Bay where he knew he would find sanctuary for him and his
family.
Crossing the 2-metre contour line the old Moody
skipper looked back to see that the pack was just 100 yards away and catching up fast. Ever so slowly the
depth changed as the yachts charged into the sandy bay. As the readings changed from 2 metres to 1.8 the powerful
fish finder gave comfort to the old skipper as the seabed came up.
With the Sunsail fleet nearly on top of him they suddenly realised with horror the trap they were being led into. With the
depth now 1.6 metres, harsh barked orders could be heard from the panicking skippers as they tried to tack away from the
danger of the soft sandy bottom just inches below their keels. However, many of the inexperienced crew were caught sitting out on the rails.
Sails flapped and booms crashed across the decks as Ray bans and baseball caps were consigned to a watery grave as the Sunsail Skippers tried to
claw their way out of the shallows to deep
water. Too late, for they had failed to see the killer whale of a cargo ship round Bramble Bank and now start his attack. Huge with dark grey sides and a white foam of water boiling at its jaws the ship speeded up.
The pack of Sunsail yachts now trapped between the shallows and the huge predator had nowhere to go.....carnage would be inevitable. The old Moody skipper looked back as he gybed again and smiled quietly to himself before setting course for Ryde Sands which the ebbing tide would carry him safely across with just inches under the twin keels. He had survived this day but knew there would be other encounters to come.
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