Yachting with a difference

Then, I was reprieved. The unseen force relented, and I and my three-wheeled carriage were yanked, as if on elastic, crashing back to earth.

This was my first attempt at sand yachting and it proved to be the most thrilling experience of my life, as well as among the most painful.

Having sailed dinghies in the past, I had some idea of the role wind plays in moving boats and how it can be very unpredictable. This helps a lot when piloting a sand yacht across the acres of sand near Dunkirk in northern France.

But the one big difference is the nature of the terrain. Whereas water is soft to travel through and land in when you capsize, sand can be incredibly hard to fall onto and to travel over. The soft golden stuff becomes as tough as concrete when your sand yacht is scudding across at 30-40mph, hitting ridges and ripples.

The jarring sensation is excruciating and leaves your back black and blue. But the pain doesn't blot out the excitement of raw speed powered by nothing other than wind force.

After a brief lecture in the classroom, we novice sand yachters nervously sat in our skeletal machines on our golden playground, clad in baggy, yellow plastic waterproof suits and crash helmets.

We'd seen other sand yachts haring around at a terrifying speed and were bewildered we were having problems moving at all. Then the secrets of filling the towering sail with wind became clear and we began our manoeuvres in formation, like a flotilla of huge, brightly coloured, spiky insects.

Soon our inexperience showed, the neat line of yachts scattering untidily. Others accelerated off into the distance, much to the frustration of those who were still anchored to the beach.

Urged on by our weather-beaten French instructors, we desperately tried to impose some control on what were essentially go-karts with sails.

The idea was to complete a triangular course round bollards. Of course, sailing round in a circle is not as simple as driving round in a car, you are at the mercy of the wind, which blows in one direction.

As we soon discovered to our cost, changing direction required a turn of speed to keep pushing you round with its momentum.

At one point the sails would not fill with wind because I was pointing directly into the breeze, so the machine dramatically slowed down and came to an embarrassing halt.

In an echo of demolition derby banger races, or a disastrous grand prix, the speedy yachts coming up behind were faced with the daunting debris of abandoned, capsized and marooned yachts cluttering up the first bollard.

This required fast, evasive action, on a tortuous obstacle course. I was well aware of the importance of not slowing down and coming to a complete humiliating halt myself.

This is when I discovered the fun of driving at high speed through puddles. I drew great satisfaction from seeing the envious looks from my yachting colleagues as I made my dramatic surge through the mini-lakes, sending a spectacular curtain of water high into the air and drenching my banana suit.

Soon I got the hang of this peculiar sailing on land and even mastered the spectacular stunt of nearly capsizing and balancing on two wheels while careering along at the mercy of the wind.

You only have to lose attention for one second, though, and be dumped on the sand if the wind drops or gusts. Later shepherded into a group once more, we followed one of our tutors in an obedient cluster across the sand. The desert-style landscape and home-made nature of our transport recalled scenes of the bleak futuristic film Mad Max.

My bumpy, but adrenalin-charged progress was going well and I was just working on how to avoid some sand-colured bumps ahead, when two of them metamorphosed into human forms.

I was too astonished - and too close. It was much too late for me to take avoiding action as two golden-brown naked men leapt into the air from their peaceful recumbent sunbathing position.

The terrified two scampered to safety in a most undignified fashion as our invading squadron blundered into a nudist colony. After the hilarious sight of the fleeing bathers we took our sand-scoured and bruised bodies back to a well-deserved shower and drink.

Sand yachting is just one of the water activities offered to adventurous types for a short break across the Channel via P&O Ferries.

Canoeing is also offered in unsinkable deck-less open plastic vessels, a world away from the kayaks with holes in the decks.

For those unused to canoeing it is easy to pick up, especially in the new style canoes, because they are very stable and there's no chance of capsizing and getting trapped in the cockpits.

The only problem is the toll it takes on upper body muscles, unused to paddling against wind and current and through waves.

In a much more sedate fashion the same gang of water-lovers took to the tranquil waters of the moat surrounding the impressive fortification at Gravelines. You get a great idea of the scale of the ramparts viewed from a slow self-drive motor boat. The fortifications date from 1160 and protect a castle and small hamlet which grew into a fishing village and port for wine, salt and fruit.

Bergues, another beautiful town, is definitely worth a visit. The ramparts have done a wonderful job of at least largely preserving the architecture during the spats between French, Austrian, English and Spanish forces. It was the Second World War which did the most damage, but restoration has retained its charm.

FACTFILE

For more information on activity breaks with P&O, tel: 087 0600 0600 or visit the website at www.POSL.com.

A car with two people costs from

£130-£245 for a return trip to Calais, depending on when you return.

Sand yachts can be hired from £3 an hour at Centre De Char A Voile Des Rives De L'aa, 27 Rue de la Chapelle Plage de Peitit-Fort-Philippe, in Gravelines, near Dunkirk, tel: 03 2823 4170 or visit the French website at www.char.a.voile.gravelines