SUN, SEA AND SHRIMP:
As sailors prepare for the Round the Island race on the Isle of Wight next weekend, Laura Silverman looks at food for leisure boaters
For a select boating set, only certain food will do: packets of beef stew, powdered mash and cheap plonk. Forget that paparazzi notion you have of sunbathing celebrities on superyachts – Beyoncé, Branson and, in their day, Jackie O and Audrey Hepburn – feasting on platters of the freshest seafood and clinking their glasses of chilled white wine. Your average yachtowner is likely to be too busy outdoors trying to keep the boat afloat to bother with such sophistication. In any case, space for preparation in a regular boat tends to be limited, while fresh ingredients rarely stay edible for long even in a cool box. Lumpy slop it is. This was the experience of food writer Fiona Sims on sailing trips as a child. The family yacht, a 23ft Virgo Voyager, cruised not the Caribbean, not even the Mediterranean, but the Solent, between Southampton and the Isle of Wight. Journeys had a romance all of their own. One cold and rainy January, Fiona’s father, Peter, made “beef curry” for lunch. It was, says Fiona, “tinned mince with a spoonful of ancient curry powder stirred in”. The cookery books Fiona later bought him did little to improve the culinary repertoire, suggesting such “horrors” as cheesy chicken bake and luncheon meat with tinned beans. Delicious. In her 20s, Fiona started to cook on board, scribbling down recipes for her father, from crab macaroni cheese to penne with sardines. But her notes ended up scattered among the cushions, maps, sunscreen and Wellington boots below deck. And so The Boat Cookbook, in which she has compiled 80 of her favourite dishes, was born. Fiona is taking me on her father’s 29ft Westerly Konsort, Zephuros, to prove that cooking “real food” at sea is simple. We meet at her cottage in Yarmouth, on the west coast of the Isle of Wight, one summer morning. And as we stagger to the harbour with loaves of sourdough (it lasts longer than other bread), a tin of flapjacks, some raw burgers and wine, it becomes obvious that preparation and a few shortcuts are key. Fiona made the flapjacks and burgers the night before, while the rest of the food is courtesy of a supermarket delivery. “I always do as much as I can before I set off,” says Fiona. “If I think it’s going to be a lively sail, I’ll even chop the vegetables and bung them in a resealable bag.” I can only hope that with the weight of all our ingredients, not to mention the bottles of wine, the boat is not going to sink before lunch. It is, thankfully, a glorious day: the breeze is gentle and the sky is an impossible blue. But even the relatively calm waters of the Solent can get rough, and only experienced mariners can navigate the Makes four portions 180g cooked and shelled brown shrimps 1 x 400g tin borlotti beans, rinsed and drained 250g cherry tomatoes, halved 1 shallot, finely chopped, or three spring onions, trimmed and sliced 1 handful of flat-leaf parsley, chopped unpredictable currents. Even when the weather is fine, cooking on board can be a challenge. One of the greatest hurdles is lack of preparation space. “It’s a bit of a dance cooking in a tiny galley,” says Fiona. “You have to wash up as you go and juggle your pans.” There can also be lack of inclination: in nice weather, you might prefer to sunbathe or entertain your guests on deck than be stuck in the kitchen below. We are sailing about five miles today, from Yarmouth Harbour to Newtown Creek, with Fiona’s parents and a family friend, Paul. Fiona will make three dishes: brown shrimps with borlotti beans and cherry tomatoes; spicy lamb burgers with hummus; and oranges with pistachios and mascarpone. Can a threecourse meal really be achieved without fuss? Near the creek, we catch a buoy and Fiona puts together the first course. “I only cook at anchor or when the water is calm,” she says. “It’s no fun in the galley when you’re rocking about on the open seas, even for those with sturdy stomachs.” It is something of a relief to know that we are not going to have to tie ourselves to the stove with apron strings. But even when it’s calm, cooks have to adjust to the constant sway of the sea. Fiona might be a fair-weather sailor, but she always uses plates that won’t break and is careful to store knives safely. Fiona chops cherry tomatoes, spring onions and parsley; throws them into a bowl with canned borlotti beans and two packs of shrimps; squeezes some lemon; drizzles some olive oil; stirs; and serves. It looks so easy, yet the result is sweet and succulent. From the boat, we watch