With military precision, a flotilla of eccentric Englishmen took to the waves on Wednesday to contest one of the world's craziest sporting fixtures: a cricket match played in the sea.
To the certain bemusement of passengers on ocean liners sailing past, cricketers dressed in traditional whites jumped out of their boats and did what madcap Brits do in the middle of busy shipping lanes, play cricket.
The annual match takes place on Bramble Bank, a tiny patch of sand that emerges for 30 minutes at the year's lowest tide in The Solent, the strait separating the south coast of mainland England from the Isle of Wight.
Every September, the Royal Southern Yacht Club from Hamble on the mainland takes on The Island Sailing Club from Cowes, meeting half way on a few square metres of soggy sand.
With dry land, and anyone with any common sense several nautical miles away in either direction, yachts drop anchor at the still-invisible pitch an hour before the Moon and Sun combine to reveal the Brambles.
"We wait for the covers to be removed," said umpire Philip Gage, eagerly watching the sonar depth reading on board his yacht.
"The fact is, this is total nonsense, and total nonsense is extremely enjoyable," he said, with a smile.
The vanguard jumps overboard to test the water, plunging in waist deep.
When it finally reaches the ankles, dozens leap out from their rib boats, scramble towards the largest dry patch, and quickly set up the stumps.
The wicket is damp to say the least, with puddles and channels between the two ends.
With barely 30 minutes to play around with and seven overs per side to cram in, the teams get straight down to action.
The action is comical, with fielders diving into the water for catches and easy run-outs as batsmen stumble over in the puddles.
Some impressive sixes have brave fielders wading out towards Southampton to retrieve the ball, while a young schoolboy standing in the square leg position was in up to his knees as he prepared to catch anything heading Portsmouth way.
A Labrador dog roamed around the pitch, as did a man on an old-fashioned penny-farthing bicycle.
In beautiful autumn evening sunshine, more than 100 spectators crammed around the exposed sand, standing within metres of the batsmen, and many got a good soaking as they dodged shots.
"This is extreme cricket," said onlooker Tony Scarth, 54, an engineer from Warsash on the mainland.
"It's also pretty English. Where else do they play cricket in the sea?"
Batting at number four for the Royal Southern was Sir Robin Knox-Johnston.
The first man to circumnavigate the globe non-stop single-handed scored nought, but trudged back into the shallows insisting: "I maintained my average!"
Anything landing in the sea should score six, but in truth the scoreboard is farcical and each club takes it in turns to win and host the post-match supper.
At the change of innings, the players rushed down a gin and tonic, with Royal Southern having scored an improbable 284.
"The key to the bowling is to pitch it just at the edge of a puddle," said Knox-Johnston.