My skipper has been back and forth most weekends and some evenings too. The repairs to my hull top sides where the anchor of Poly Agatha dug in and also where the Marlec wind generator was originally located, prior to the accident is looking really good.
The scar and the four holes have all been filled rubbed down and re-filled; topped up with a Gel-coat resin; rubbed down again then sprayed several times rubbed back each time before a final coat or two of clear lacquer. It virtually impossible to see that anything happened. Just the end piece of teak decking to drill and fit, but that will need the pullpit railing to be removed.
The additional layer of loaded copper in the Copper Coat, is colouring up nicely with absolutely no sign of weed, even with this sunny weather.
The ammeter stint has been re-wired and adjusted again and now gives far more accurate readings, which were giving some concern to my skipper following his initial installation. With all the navigational equipment, fridge and internal lights on there's a discharge rate of 12.6amps. Likewise with the engine running there's an immediate charge rate of 35amps which reduces probably due to the fact that the batteries are kept fully charged most of the time by the Marlec. I know he wants to move the stint to another location to minimise and reduce the lengths of wires running about. One thing that's not showing is the rate at which the Marlec charges, but this is shown on the Marlecs own regulator at the nav table. I'm sure he'll work that out too soon.
So Good Friday and I had been prepared to go to sea, the destination was for St Vaast. This was due to an offshore race heading to Cherbourg at the head of the peninsular, St Vaast is to the east and abut another hour further on. The issue with St Vaast is that it has a lock which opens 2 hours either side of high water. This meant that we ought to be in the Solent for 0600, so that I could catch the tide round the point and arrive a few hours before HW. The forecast was not looking that great for both Friday & Saturday with the wind dissappearing for Sunday & Monday. It wasn't till Saturday morning that the crew turned up with the last of the food, but there was a chill in the air and the wind fairly breezey. Following a long discussion the decision to head for Weymouth had also been cancelled and so they ate on board before the skipper dropped the crew off and carried on with my hull topside repairs. Will I ever get out ?
Sunday dawned a beautiful day and finally my lines were slipped and we headed out. With very little in the way of wind, the main was hoisted and set, more to dry it out then use it to attempt to sail. With the engine on tick over we headed west. Clouds started to form both south and north of me and so the layers of clothing started to be added to my occupents. Rain could be seen to be falling in the distance and sure enough by the time we were nearing Yarmouth, the wind picked up and so the engine was off. I was sailing at last and on main only.
It wasn't long before the tide that was rushing out of the Solent had us out past Hurst Castle and so I was prepared for our usual anchorage. With the Webasto still not working as it should, it was to be a cold night in the cabins. However with the sides lined with pillows and a second duvet covering their legs they remained toasty. My skipper, who should have had one of his best nights sleep, was woken by the very few noises I made. With no wind the sea was flat calm, but the odd wave came in and the squeak of my boom as it rolled gently to one side was enough to remind my skipper that there was still some maintenance of the bearings to do. Likewise with the build up of condensation in the cabin dripping on his head, also was a poinient reminder to get the Webasto to work. At 0500 the Needless lighthouse fog horn sounded, a consequence of a warm front rolling in over the cold surface of the sea.
After breakfast the fog had gone and I was on my way back, picking up the last few hours of the flood tide, this time without the main, just on tickover. With the crew run ashore my skipper remained to put me to bed once more.
A few weeks later and I had two more crew on board, one was only 6 years old, but my skipper had chosen the right day for someone so young to go out for her first time. We left the pontoon as usual but my bow thruster refused to raise, so the skipper shut down the engine and fired it back up, this cured the issue and up it came. Once out the main was raised and we headed towards Lee-on-Solent, with the wind increasing slightly to 6 knots, the newly laundered jib was unfurlled. With engine off I also was doing 6.0 knots.
With a small freighter heading for the North Channel, with what looked like a collision course I was tacked over just as we reached Universal Marina Buoy and headed for Ryde Middle buoy once over the bank I was gybed over and headed downwind, to Osborne Bay where we stopped and had lunch. With everything packed away, the little one helmed me back to the Medina, where the skipper took over. He took me past the aera where a change in currents have been brought about within the Fairway of the River due to the new breakwater construction.
I look forward to my next venture.
Thursday 23 April 2015
Monday 20 April 2015
Shakedown
Apparently it was the first public holiday since Christmas and as always I know somethings about to happen when provisions start arriving.
I now understand that on the Friday, I was to be taken to St Vaast, a place I've not been to before, but that the trip had to be timed just so. Now St Vaast is on the eastern side of the Cherbourg peninsular and I've battled for many an hour against the tides crossing, so I understand the need to arrive when the flood tide is spilling south around the corner of this bay. The port itself is protected by a lock which opens 2 hrs before high tide and closes 3 hours after, retaining just enough water to keep me off the bottom, just.
A late or early arrival means anchoring off the coast line, which depending on the prevailing winds may or may not be pleasant, so I've heard.
However, friday dawned cold and dark, and with the winds predicted to be strong, my crew opted to leave this one for another day.
Saturday broke much brighter and the winds had eased but still from the east bringing a bitter chill to the proceedings. My crew arrived with more provisions and prepared my lines. Soup was called for rather than to cast off and so the changed plan to Weymouth, also took a knock. Finaly on the Sunday, my lines were slipped and we headed out in to the Solent once more. There's a new breakwater being built, I remember seeing something whilst in the yacht marina, but now there it was sticking out of the water like a whale's back.
Now today there was little in the way of any wind, but the main was hoisted, more to dry out after the long winter spell in its bag. I was left in tick over and we headed west. So far so good, the autopilot engaged, no squealling from the fan belt, wind instruments working, log working, it all felt good. To both the south and north of us, clouds started to form, cutting out the sun. Eventually beads of rain could be seen falling, this brought with it wind and the cold, so jumpers, jackets and even gloves were brought out from their hiding places and the engine turned off. I was actually sailing for the first time this year, main only and with the tide pushing 8 knots.
As we were passing Yarmouth being pushed faster as the Solent ends, Hurst narrows takes over and finally past the shingles bank. Except we didn't and headed to our usual spot in Totland Bay. The windlass worked too !
As the night was clear the temperature dropped, as did what little wind there was. The Bay was flat calm. I was woken at 0500 by the sounds of the Needles light house fog horn, sounded twice every two minutes. Sure enough I couldn't see further than a boat length away.
I now understand that on the Friday, I was to be taken to St Vaast, a place I've not been to before, but that the trip had to be timed just so. Now St Vaast is on the eastern side of the Cherbourg peninsular and I've battled for many an hour against the tides crossing, so I understand the need to arrive when the flood tide is spilling south around the corner of this bay. The port itself is protected by a lock which opens 2 hrs before high tide and closes 3 hours after, retaining just enough water to keep me off the bottom, just.
A late or early arrival means anchoring off the coast line, which depending on the prevailing winds may or may not be pleasant, so I've heard.
However, friday dawned cold and dark, and with the winds predicted to be strong, my crew opted to leave this one for another day.
Saturday broke much brighter and the winds had eased but still from the east bringing a bitter chill to the proceedings. My crew arrived with more provisions and prepared my lines. Soup was called for rather than to cast off and so the changed plan to Weymouth, also took a knock. Finaly on the Sunday, my lines were slipped and we headed out in to the Solent once more. There's a new breakwater being built, I remember seeing something whilst in the yacht marina, but now there it was sticking out of the water like a whale's back.
Now today there was little in the way of any wind, but the main was hoisted, more to dry out after the long winter spell in its bag. I was left in tick over and we headed west. So far so good, the autopilot engaged, no squealling from the fan belt, wind instruments working, log working, it all felt good. To both the south and north of us, clouds started to form, cutting out the sun. Eventually beads of rain could be seen falling, this brought with it wind and the cold, so jumpers, jackets and even gloves were brought out from their hiding places and the engine turned off. I was actually sailing for the first time this year, main only and with the tide pushing 8 knots.
As we were passing Yarmouth being pushed faster as the Solent ends, Hurst narrows takes over and finally past the shingles bank. Except we didn't and headed to our usual spot in Totland Bay. The windlass worked too !
As the night was clear the temperature dropped, as did what little wind there was. The Bay was flat calm. I was woken at 0500 by the sounds of the Needles light house fog horn, sounded twice every two minutes. Sure enough I couldn't see further than a boat length away.
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