So with my skipper turning up on a couple of occasions, first removing the main sail from the mast and storing it in my saloon, then turning up a few days later to do the same to the jib, I should've known something was happening.
With the wind gusting quite strongly, my skipper, complete with back muscle issues, still managed to unclip my main from the mast, which involved climbing the lower part and releasing it all in the flagging Lazy Jack bag, before spilling it on the deck and hurriedly dragging it back to the cockpit and finally down below. This is no mean feat given the amount of material involved, still he managed it at the cost of a pair of glasses that, due to the rain the sleeves of his coat caught his face removing the glasses from his nose and smashing in two on the floor.
Several days later with the wind still gusty he returned to drop my jib too, sending that down the hatch in to the Master cabin. Still a job done.
More recently my skipper returned with the crew and moved me from my pontoon in the Medina to the Yacht Haven, where I spent the weekend before being lifted out and stored on the hard once more. The Medina mud hosed off before being placed in my resting place over winter. Skipper soon arrived to inspect my prop and hooked me up to shore power and had the dehumidifier running, waiting to pack the sails away in their bags before setting up the oil filled radiators. Then starts the work on his list. Already I've given him another task by separating the work top from the top of the fridge. No warning that there was an issue I've just peeled one item from the other, I'm sure its a simple task for him to complete.
My hull has been jet washed removing the gloopy mud that is the base for the very fine weed that gets a hold and produces very whiskers. Once I'm out and sailing along this mud soon lets go. For now the additional Copper Coat my skipper added last year is clear to see and lessens the effect of the mud.
However, my anodes are shot to pieces but may have been slowed by the additional 'manual' one fitted in the summer. At least it may have stopped the prop from being damaged further, this will be removed and taken away for further discussion with the specialists. The softer Aluminium sail drive has pitting on it too and this the skipper is going to coat in the left over epoxy resign from the Copper Coat, but of course without the Copper being mixed in. Then once hardened apply a paint on anti-fouling.
Both sails are now off, packed and ready to go to the mainland to be laundered and serviced. So with three months I'll let you know how many and which jobs he manages to complete.
Tuesday, 15 December 2015
Monday, 7 December 2015
Thor II
This week saw my owner arrive with a couple of friends, it was lovely and mild but I didn't get to go out as they were shown around and had tea before heading back. At the weekend my skipper arrived with another large sail bag - bright yellow and a neatly folded sail within. I had no idea what this was as I'd not heard any chat from the skipper for a while.
The fog was just lifting gently out of the valley and there was a faint hint of a breeze, ideal I suppose if your hoisting a sail of some size on your own. Skip delved in to the Gennekar bag and removed the strop from its clew, he then hunted around for a line to act as a sheet and then eased the spare halyard from the bow. Unfolding the well packed sail to locate the head, clew & tack, each were then connected to lines and readied for a hoist. Skipper cam back aft and put a turn around the winch and released the cutch, then began to wind in.
The dark navy blue Code 0 rose up to about half way up the mast and then the slightest of zephyr's came through and filled the sail. This took it over the neighbouring yacht and on to the pontoon, at least being fixed at the clew and tack would stop it going any further. The slightest breeze in the cloth prevented my skipper from hoisting any further without the winch handle, so had to lock it off and go amid ships to retrieve it, stuffing yards and yards of cloth through one of the hatches. Once in and out of the way, skipper then lowered the remainder and clipped the head to the stays. With everything back on board he then re-packed it back in to the bag making sure he could get to each of the three corners. Lesson learned, that a snuffler similar to that used on the Gennekar is required.
If it was impossible to raise it in this subtlest of breezes whilst I'm stationary, then trying to hoist it whilst I'm moving may be a task too far. Better find out now when it doesn't matter than be disappointed later when it may.
So it's been a few weeks and the skippers bag this time with a snuffer to go over the Code 0. This makes hoisting and lowering a lot more simple for the short crew and is the similar to one supplied with the Gennekar.
He also arrived with the long awaited McMurdo M10 AIS transponder. This when fitted will enable you all to follow our travels, providing of course that the secrecy switch is off. More importantly it'll enable the crew to see all other vessels using such devices on the monitor in the dark or fog etc, but unlike radar which of course I have, it supplies an MMSI number so that the skipper can 'phone' the bridge of a vessel he's concerned about to make sure or find out how the impending situation is going to be resolved. In other words, have you seen me and what action are you taking or do you want me to do something different ! The device also relays lots of information about speed, direction, destination and all sorts, but the important one is the ability to communicate directly to the bridge. You may recall last year an incident when I was belting back from Alderney at 8.0 knots and a freighter would not respond on channel 16, my skipper new he was the stand on vessel and did so, but kept a careful lookout in case he had to make avoiding action. With the M10, he will be able to ring the bridge and ask questions, whether dark or in fogy conditions.
The fog was just lifting gently out of the valley and there was a faint hint of a breeze, ideal I suppose if your hoisting a sail of some size on your own. Skip delved in to the Gennekar bag and removed the strop from its clew, he then hunted around for a line to act as a sheet and then eased the spare halyard from the bow. Unfolding the well packed sail to locate the head, clew & tack, each were then connected to lines and readied for a hoist. Skipper cam back aft and put a turn around the winch and released the cutch, then began to wind in.
The dark navy blue Code 0 rose up to about half way up the mast and then the slightest of zephyr's came through and filled the sail. This took it over the neighbouring yacht and on to the pontoon, at least being fixed at the clew and tack would stop it going any further. The slightest breeze in the cloth prevented my skipper from hoisting any further without the winch handle, so had to lock it off and go amid ships to retrieve it, stuffing yards and yards of cloth through one of the hatches. Once in and out of the way, skipper then lowered the remainder and clipped the head to the stays. With everything back on board he then re-packed it back in to the bag making sure he could get to each of the three corners. Lesson learned, that a snuffler similar to that used on the Gennekar is required.
If it was impossible to raise it in this subtlest of breezes whilst I'm stationary, then trying to hoist it whilst I'm moving may be a task too far. Better find out now when it doesn't matter than be disappointed later when it may.
So it's been a few weeks and the skippers bag this time with a snuffer to go over the Code 0. This makes hoisting and lowering a lot more simple for the short crew and is the similar to one supplied with the Gennekar.
He also arrived with the long awaited McMurdo M10 AIS transponder. This when fitted will enable you all to follow our travels, providing of course that the secrecy switch is off. More importantly it'll enable the crew to see all other vessels using such devices on the monitor in the dark or fog etc, but unlike radar which of course I have, it supplies an MMSI number so that the skipper can 'phone' the bridge of a vessel he's concerned about to make sure or find out how the impending situation is going to be resolved. In other words, have you seen me and what action are you taking or do you want me to do something different ! The device also relays lots of information about speed, direction, destination and all sorts, but the important one is the ability to communicate directly to the bridge. You may recall last year an incident when I was belting back from Alderney at 8.0 knots and a freighter would not respond on channel 16, my skipper new he was the stand on vessel and did so, but kept a careful lookout in case he had to make avoiding action. With the M10, he will be able to ring the bridge and ask questions, whether dark or in fogy conditions.
Friday, 9 October 2015
Big Brother !
No this isn't about the Hanse 675 but AIS, Automated Identification Systems. My Skipper bought one back in July with the intention of fitting it to me prior to our cruise in August. It never happened. He had wired one in on another yacht some years earlier so was no stranger to the equipment and his youthful years of building and preparing rally cars make him useful to have as a skipper or just on board for that matter.
So it came as a bit of a surprise to me that come august, there was no signs of it, in fact it was still in it's box back up at the house. Apparently it required the acquisition of an AIS compatible aerial and that had to be sourced from elsewhere, also both these aerials ought to be located in a position that would give them the best 'view' and as centrally as possible. Clearly my lower spreader would be ideal, if only it wasn't 8.0m up the mast and another 4.0m from the navigation table. So I see his point and we left without it and the use of mobile phone kept a few in the know of our location.
The device he's chosen is very clever. It's a Class B, not a mandatory thing but like radar it provides information of other vessels in range, as well as giving them yours if they have one fitted, which on interrogation can be vital to help make informed decision when a possible collision course is likely. Even down to getting a 'phone' number (MMSI - Maritime Mobile Service Identity) of the impending vessel such with a DSC radio the bridge can be 'called' and a real time conversation held with the man behind the wheel, whatever the weather. Now vessel over a certain size or carrying more than a requisite number of passengers have to have one and these have to be of Class A origin.
It's taken my skipper 6 weeks to get this little black box working properly. It's been back to the manufacturer after it crashed during a firmware upgrade, turning the whole thing off. He wanted to make sure it worked prior to undertaking all the necessary work on me to fit it properly. He still has my old 12v gel batteries that he's loathed to get rid of and with one of them he set it up in his dining room, but to no avail. The GPS was receiving others, but the VHF wasn't letting on. Various e-mails later the whole lot was moved to the plant room of the house and the bird feeder station was acquisitioned and adorned the VHF aerial at the top and the GPS aerial half way down. Still no joy, despite the aerial being vertical this time. A few more e-mails including a data log and it was suggested that there's something blocking the outgoing signal. Once more the whole lot was moved up to the attic room that overlooks the Solent. GPS aerial on the sill and VHF hanging upside down out of the window top. With the lap top plugged in to it once more and the diagnostic check made it was left to do its thing again.
Finally I, or a version of me as it has my data within it, appeared on any viewing AIS system on the internet, there I was alive and a mile from the nearest water !
Now that my skipper is happy that the little black box is working he'll start fitting it on board. Then people will be able to follow my track and see such information as Speed Over the Ground (SOG), where I've come from etc. As well as being there to ensure that a repeat of a couple of years ago doesn't happen, when my skipper was unsure as to what a freighter was doing within the English Channel as we came back from Braye and they wouldn't answer the VHF. Now he can simply 'ring' them up and ask what is their intention !
So it came as a bit of a surprise to me that come august, there was no signs of it, in fact it was still in it's box back up at the house. Apparently it required the acquisition of an AIS compatible aerial and that had to be sourced from elsewhere, also both these aerials ought to be located in a position that would give them the best 'view' and as centrally as possible. Clearly my lower spreader would be ideal, if only it wasn't 8.0m up the mast and another 4.0m from the navigation table. So I see his point and we left without it and the use of mobile phone kept a few in the know of our location.
The device he's chosen is very clever. It's a Class B, not a mandatory thing but like radar it provides information of other vessels in range, as well as giving them yours if they have one fitted, which on interrogation can be vital to help make informed decision when a possible collision course is likely. Even down to getting a 'phone' number (MMSI - Maritime Mobile Service Identity) of the impending vessel such with a DSC radio the bridge can be 'called' and a real time conversation held with the man behind the wheel, whatever the weather. Now vessel over a certain size or carrying more than a requisite number of passengers have to have one and these have to be of Class A origin.
It's taken my skipper 6 weeks to get this little black box working properly. It's been back to the manufacturer after it crashed during a firmware upgrade, turning the whole thing off. He wanted to make sure it worked prior to undertaking all the necessary work on me to fit it properly. He still has my old 12v gel batteries that he's loathed to get rid of and with one of them he set it up in his dining room, but to no avail. The GPS was receiving others, but the VHF wasn't letting on. Various e-mails later the whole lot was moved to the plant room of the house and the bird feeder station was acquisitioned and adorned the VHF aerial at the top and the GPS aerial half way down. Still no joy, despite the aerial being vertical this time. A few more e-mails including a data log and it was suggested that there's something blocking the outgoing signal. Once more the whole lot was moved up to the attic room that overlooks the Solent. GPS aerial on the sill and VHF hanging upside down out of the window top. With the lap top plugged in to it once more and the diagnostic check made it was left to do its thing again.
Finally I, or a version of me as it has my data within it, appeared on any viewing AIS system on the internet, there I was alive and a mile from the nearest water !
Now that my skipper is happy that the little black box is working he'll start fitting it on board. Then people will be able to follow my track and see such information as Speed Over the Ground (SOG), where I've come from etc. As well as being there to ensure that a repeat of a couple of years ago doesn't happen, when my skipper was unsure as to what a freighter was doing within the English Channel as we came back from Braye and they wouldn't answer the VHF. Now he can simply 'ring' them up and ask what is their intention !
Monday, 21 September 2015
September's Drift
The weather is certainly strange and has continued in a similar vain to the weather during my return trip from the Scilly Isles. Overcast, horrible and rain, to clear bright sunny days. This weekend saw my skipper bring two of his friends with him on a bright and sunny day, both I had seen before but this was the first time they'd been on board at the same time.
Every time skipper went forward to play with the luff of the sail to try to encourage
the wind to fill it, so he checked the depth gauge first. We drifted slowly East. With no
luck and without wanting to be a chicane for the Fishborne ferries, ‘Thor’ came
down, packed away and my engine went on, I was taken back to Cowes. Skipper ran through the
procedures of landing me against a pontoon and set up the fenders and warps
ready. We’d have two landings to make apparently,
the first one would be a good practise for the home pontoon and so I was brought
up behind a small sea fishing day boat on the fuel pontoon, walking me
forward once there, to enable the hose to reach my fuel filler. When complete, they repeated the same take off
as before and headed to my home pontoon.
Having done one landing previously the crew were ready again, this one was just as straight forward.
Skipper didn't take his usual care of putting me away, as he wanted to get the guys off for lunch, but he did return the following day to sort me out and fitted the new replacement LED lights as well.
Once bags had been brought on board and stowed below I was prepared ready to go, even if one of the chaps did unzip the cover of the spray hood frame, am sure he was just keen to help. Skipper had brought with him a new flag pole which soon had the huge ensign flying complete with the fly
just touching the water as it’s supposed to, if you want to be in keeping
with sailing etiquette. With a close
eye on one crew member, the other went forward and slipped my bow line as skipper reversed me to swing the
bow out, without Poly Agatha in front of me I didn’t have to swing too far
before I could motor forward and have the stern line released . I remember this chap from Round the Island race when he got in a bit of a mess, this time though without panic he reeled in the
warp without fuss and we set off for the Solent.
Now clearly my skipper had forgotten how much rain had fallen recently and so it was
fortunate that my main stopped as the reefing lines had got caught, as one crew member was at the base of my mast heaving and the other was to tail off the
halyard. Skipper handed the helm over as he sorted it out
and hoisted the rest of the sail with the electric winch, tonnes of water
spewed out from the front of my boom around the position one chap had been
standing previously ! As usual there
were plenty of boats out on the water, every weekend there’s some form of
racing and this one was no exception.
Having headed West temporarily in to what little wind there was to hoist my main, we
turned and headed East with the tide, making sure to keep clear of the barge bring new rock for the Cowes breakwater, shame the old gaff rigged boat didn't have the same awareness of my skipper.
Both my main and Windex struggled to find any breeze. However it was a glorious day and so my engine was turned off so the crew could mellow in the quietness, that was till one crew member went below to find a CD to play. Skipper handed the fishing rod to one chap and nervously kept an eye on both the depth gauge and the traffic around whilst I slowly drifted. Lunchtime was fast approaching probably as
quickly as boredom was setting in for both crew members, but having stripped me of most things
during my de-camp lunch was not on board.
Whilst it had looked towards the end of the week as though wind would be
light, skipper had hoped that there would be enough to get us going and keeping everyone amused or busy, sitting in the
sun wasn’t preventing the thoughts of food from entering the crews minds. Skipper went down below and brought ‘Thor’ up from below decks and
set about setting up the sheets, we had reached Osborne Bay by now and the only
shipping, a car transporter plus a paddle steamer had just passed us. So up went ‘Thor’, but he just wouldn’t fill
enough to move us across to the mainland, where another yacht race was taking
place although at a snails pace, but there did appear to be more wind.
Skipper didn't take his usual care of putting me away, as he wanted to get the guys off for lunch, but he did return the following day to sort me out and fitted the new replacement LED lights as well.
Tuesday, 4 August 2015
August 2015
It was a slow start on Saturday the 1st for my crew, but the Medina was getting more & more crowded by the hour. Eventually everything was on board, lunch had been consumed by my crew and the lines were slipped. Poly in front of me had gone, but Craftsmans Art behind was still on her berth. The wind eased me off the pontoon and we were away for this years summer trip.
With the wind at its predominant south westerly but blowing around 25 knots I had two reefs put in my sail and off I went, westerly. It was cracking, I felt comfortable and the Solent although a little lumpy didn't slow me down. My skipper has a thing with the tides now and so I creamed along at 9.9 knots SOG (speed over the ground, that's my speed plus the tide) after a couple of hours and about a half a dozen tacks I was approaching Totland Bay. May be this was just a weekender, I hope not.
The crew sorted themselves and got back in to the swing of living on board and at 1200 just before the tide turned, the anchor was raised and I was pointed westward out to sea at last. The small back eddy took us round past Alum Bay and then we were out past the Needles. With the promise of 4-5's and strangely south easterly, both reefs were left in, the main eased out I was off again galloping along like one of the New Forest Pony's, that weren't that far north of me. As the wind appeared to ease so the reefs were taken out.
Mupe Bay was to be my destination originally, but with the SW'ly wind it would've not been the best place to be. The eastern side, the more sheltered spot, however, as Cowes had been rammed yesterday my fresh water tanks were still low and so I headed on. Approaching Portland, I was gybed and headed north. With full main out I was becoming over powered, however it wasn't long before I was turned to windward and the main was dropped completely. Behind me was the entrance to Portland Marina and I was taken in. In the sheltered harbour of Portland hundreds of little Toppers were out racing and so I was guided around the outside of their course and on to the first 'Tango' pontoon. It had only taken 6 1/2hrs to get here. Once tied on my tanks were soon replenished with water and my batteries at long last had a good baulk, absorption and finally trickle charge from my shore power charger.
With 4 - 5 occasionally 6's promised and much the same the day after, it took a while for my skipper to decided to stick to plan A. The second reef was put back in before I left the pontoon and we waited till the little fleet of Toppers had left before following them out. This time I was lead to the Naval entrance and once outside the sails hoisted, I was short tacked up the side of Portland. Others leaving around the same time were under engine. My skipper had timed it just right I got a lift from the eddy around the inside of Portland and just entered the eastern race to tack once more clear of the Bill itself. The waves in the race always look more menacing from within, but it wasn't long before I was clear of them and pointed at 270 which coincided with the wind 40 degrees to port.
After I had caught and passed two smaller yachts and I think because a larger one had passed me, that my skipper shook out one of the reefs. Again with 6 hours of tide with me I maxed at 10.1 knots SOG but averaged around 7. Now I've been to Torquay a few times, but my crew feel it's a bit run down and the marina's full of Gin Palaces, so I was brought in to Babacombe Bay around 1930. This is the other side of the headland to the east of Torquay. A beautiful bay and I was the only one in it. Cary's Inn is to the south and a kiss me quick type area to the north, divided by a number of linking bridges. My skipper booked in for a meal on Tuesday at Cary's to catch up with their friends in the evening and sit out the 6's that appeared in the forecast.
According to my Skipper, the Cary Inn was a jolly nice Gastro Pub and they had a really nice meal. More importantly they had a good old chin wag with their friends including a Fastnet crew mate. For the third time my skipper actually mastered getting the dinghy ashore without getting a boot full of water. It almost looked as though they knew what they were doing as they launched back to me after their meal. At least they remembered to put my lights on so they could find me on their way back !
Wednesday and the crew were moving around down below around 0900. My new cooker provided them toast for the first time from the grill. With that washed up and the four Mackerel, gutted, cleaned and prepared were given fresh sea water and put in the dinghy, for my next passage. This commenced at around 1130, earlier than the skipper had suggested, but the forecast was for 5 - 6's and at that time the weather had yet to fill in. With two reefs set and a turn of jib, I was set out around Hope's Nose and across Torbay. Once past Berry Head the wind built and the seas became more confused.
25 knots across my deck with my hull occasionally slamming in the next trough. Skipper took over the helm at Start Point. 6.3 knots of boat speed added to that the tide, of course he had the tide worked out and I was pushing 9.0 knots SOG. This enabled me to push through most waves, but there were times when I rose high only to bury my nose deep in the following trough, gallons of water tumbling down my decks towards the crew in the cockpit, like waves making their way up the beach. I'm pleased to say that my bilge remained considerably dry, although some of the seals on my hatches were tested as was the seal around my mast.
Once clear of all headlands and obstructions I was eased away and on a broad reach and attained 6.7 knots of boat speed. Eased further to head for the house indicating the outside of the bar at Salcombe the jib was brought in. Just before the bar I was swung to windward and my main dropped, the skipper radioed the Harbour Master and they brought me in and up the estuary to Salt Stone where I was anchored. This is a quiet spot, a nature reserve amongst the drying creeks. I arrived just after low water but had 1.5m beneath my keel.
The four Mackerel, were shown the inside of my oven and served.
The following day my crew went in to Fowey itself, to the Royal Fowey Yacht Club, where showers were taken, my skipper took his lap top and caught up on some work and the crew went in to town to get some fresh vegetables etc.
Making use of the tide as forecasted winds were to be light again, my crew were up and out by 0900. Today was not going to be a sailing day, with main out and tight, my engine was left at 2000 rpm and pointed seaward. With the forecasted winds never materialising, the Autopilot was engaged and a route set, the first time I think this year that it has done that. It did play up for a short while with the words ‘drive lost’ but after resetting it all was well and I pointed to Helford River.
On arrival my skipper radio’d for the mooring officer, but one didn’t exist at that time and so the Helford Ferry answered instead. I was taken to the Pool and a green mooring buoy was lassoed, however there was no ring in the top in which to put ‘Loopy Loo’ through and the sinking line unable to pass the weed growth slipped off. ‘Loopy Loo’ is two lengths of rope with a length of chain between, this stops chaffing. I was motored back downstream to Robins Cove near Durgan and anchored there instead.
Wednesday and my crew were up and ready and so I was sailed out of the estuary and set for the Manacles. The wind appeared light and so the engine was on until a new course was set that would take me past the races off Lizard. A broad reach was then set and I was sailed until past the Lizard and a beam reach was made towards St Michaels Mount. Once inside the bay, I was gybed out but the course sent me well out to sea, so a course was made and the sails set accordingly.
Then the wind died. The crew looked at each other and the jib was furled in, the engine went back on and there was even discussions as to whether 'Thor' could come out. However no sooner said than done the wind filled in with a 40 degree shift, the jib was extracted and I was now close hauled pointing at Newlyn.
Newlyn is a fishing port and boats like me are foreigners, but we're put up with as we bring in extra revenue not only to the port but the local economy too. My nostrils filled with the smell of fish and an oily film wrapped around my hull but I had a place to stay. Fishing boats by the handful prepared themselves and moved around the port like mechanical monsters. The low thud from their engines reverberated as they moved graciously from one spot to another, then eventually out towards the harbour entrance and off to some special spot some miles out to sea.
Setting off for the night, week or months ?
Saturday, and the weather looked more than promising, so I was prepared once more and was sent on my way towards the harbour entrance before the water level became an issue. Once outside and clear and my Skipper had tidied all the lines and put away my fenders, I was turned to point at Mousehole (mouzzall), and up went the main. With the wind light and not the expected 3 - 4's I was motored out in search of more wind, this came but from a westward direction, the direction I was being taken. My jib unfurled I was pointed west of south, just off of Bishop's Rock lighthouse, with light winds 'Chianti' a 30 or so footer was catching me up and eventually passed. The winds strengthened and backed soon I re-passed as we crossed paths once more. Eventually the swell of the sea and the wind direction was such that 'Chianti' started to motor, I was still under sail. Eventually the donk came on and I was pointed at St Agnes and Hugh islands, where I was anchored.
Sun set at St Agnes
The following day the crew went for a walk around St Agnes and by mid afternoon I was moved across to St Martins and my crew picked up a buoy. Once more the crew disembarked to pay their dues and returned the following day to re-provision. Back on board, I was prepared again and was gently motored between the many islands at low water to expose as many dangers as possible, but still the crew took me slowly round, spotting many seals enjoying the sun on my way to New Grimsby Sound between Tresco and Bryher.
On the Tuesday with light winds my crew raised my anchor and I was taken around the northern part of the islands and headed towards the Lands End TSS. Here too, where many of the Fastnet fleet still trying to make their way to the rock. I was manoeuvred around a few then once clear headed 90 degrees to the shipping lanes. With engine ticking over, my skipper took a few shots of the Wolf Rocklight house as I passed. Progress was slow, but eventually the forecasted wind filled in and about 1730 my sails where hoisted and I was off sailing once more. In fact as the winds were steady not only in direction but consistent in strength, my skipper took time to adjust and trim the sails such that I sailed my self along around 45 degrees off the wind no matter which tack I was on. In fact the crew coming up from listening to the radio below, hauled me over to the opposite tack and released the helm, once I found the wind I adjusted my angle to 45 degrees. My skipper was pleased and now wants me to do the same thing at just of 30 degrees to the wind.
By now I was approaching the Helford river again, but this time I was anchored on the southern side.
The following day, with a misty murk hiding most landmarks, I was motored across the bay to Falmouth, Pendennis Marina to be precise. The radar was once more fired up but this time to check for movements in or out of the entrance. My skipper picked up such a vessel and created a target of it. Information about speed and bearing was constantly up dated on my screen. My skipper had been informed on the VHF to put me on D pontoon which meant that I was to be taken around to the far side. This I did until my depth gauge read 0.1m and my skipper backed me out. with plenty of space on A pontoon, next to the RNLI lifeboats and near an old gaff rigged vessel called 'Greyhound', my skipper reversed me in.
The harbour master insisted that there should be at least 4.0m. My crew remembered that when I was in Scotland, the skipper adjusted my depth gauge to read metres under the keel. My previous owner had me depth below the waterline. Skip, then checked what he had set me at and realised that the 2.3m that he had entered, didn't take in to account the depth below the waterline of my transducer. Giving me another 600mm, so it should have read 1.7m. Once re-calibrated, a lead line was put over the side during several states of the tide to make sure everything was spot on.
Two nights were spent here, whilst the crew did laundry, re-provisioned and managed to visit the National Maritime Museum, which oddly had a theme of the Vikings. Even time for a meal at Rick Steins restaurant instead of their usual favourite fish & chip shop. With water tanks and on board showers used, it was into the murk once more. This time I was headed up the Fal River and to a pontoon just SE of Malpas, which in turn is near Truro. A very remote spot with the river surrounded by deciduous trees and occasional rocky shoreline and it all looked a bit pirate as the murky mist still filled the tree tops.
Me on the pontoon just down stream of Malpas
The following day I was moved back downstream but instead of stopping at St Mawes, the other side from Falmouth, I was headed out to sea. Gorran Haven had been mentioned as a possible anchorage to, but in the misty murk I continued past. Hour after hour I was clocking up the easterly miles, my skipper clearly had other ideas. Eventually I was gybed north and headed in to Cawsand.
A glorious day was spent exploring the two towns together with a bit of re-provisioning, but then the need to move on came and an overcast day saw me leave my anchorage and head to Dartmouth.
Dittisham was mentioned, but that would be for the following day. The weather that clearly my skipper was trying to get ahead of, caught up. The following day I was moved from the pontoon as promised to the harbour master and taken down stream in torrential rain and high winds to Dittisham a place I had been taken to before but unable to find a mooring buoy. My skipper having spoken to the harbour master had been told of two buoys that I could be rafted against other vessels. As I arrived I was taken low to be turned and headed to wind. Slowly my skipper edged me closer to the yacht mentioned keeping me under control under the high winds, more so than the yacht I was to be rafted against that swung every now and then. Despite words being passed between us boats, no one appeared on deck to lend a hand. On the second approach the difference between my high freeboard and that of the smaller yacht on the buoy was evident and the rafting exercise was abandoned.
I was taken to the Anchor Stone where my anchor was dropped, but with around 15m of water beneath me, howling winds and weed, the anchor never really took and so this exercise was abandoned and I was brought under control to anchor elsewhere. My crew were about to set the kedge anchor to stop me from swinging so violently in the high winds, when on the VHF the harbour master suggested I could be rafted against the old British Steel racing boat back in town. As we approached it was evident that the blue flagged yacht that didn't come to my crews assistance where about to raft on the other side of the same vessel. My skipper refused to speak to them.
That night the winds built and from about midnight to 0400 the wind howled, stretching, pulling at the warps an uncomfortable night for my crew, but after 0400 the wind just stopped.
Deciding that a trip around the corner to Brixham or slightly further north to Teignmouth was not going to give any great benefit, my crew slipped my lines and I was off on the long trip across Lyme Bay. The wind however was such that a course just south of east was made taking me to around 8nm south of Portland Bill before being gybed round and headed towards Weymouth. However the crews mother was going to make a visit and the crew decided that a stop in Weymouth could mean rafting and a 90yr old would struggle to get on board, so I was taken once more to Portland where wide clear pontoons were available. However she did not visit and so I was taken out of Portland and headed to Studland for an overnight stop before heading to Cowes Saturday lunchtime.
Sunday and my skipper had everything on deck to dry out before packing it away. On the Monday my insides where wiped down with disinfectants and all the tinned or canned goods, plus clothing were taken off me. Another year and another adventure, hopefully it won't be too long before I am taken out once more. There's rumours of yet another sail to be added to me suit.
With the wind at its predominant south westerly but blowing around 25 knots I had two reefs put in my sail and off I went, westerly. It was cracking, I felt comfortable and the Solent although a little lumpy didn't slow me down. My skipper has a thing with the tides now and so I creamed along at 9.9 knots SOG (speed over the ground, that's my speed plus the tide) after a couple of hours and about a half a dozen tacks I was approaching Totland Bay. May be this was just a weekender, I hope not.
The crew sorted themselves and got back in to the swing of living on board and at 1200 just before the tide turned, the anchor was raised and I was pointed westward out to sea at last. The small back eddy took us round past Alum Bay and then we were out past the Needles. With the promise of 4-5's and strangely south easterly, both reefs were left in, the main eased out I was off again galloping along like one of the New Forest Pony's, that weren't that far north of me. As the wind appeared to ease so the reefs were taken out.
Mupe Bay was to be my destination originally, but with the SW'ly wind it would've not been the best place to be. The eastern side, the more sheltered spot, however, as Cowes had been rammed yesterday my fresh water tanks were still low and so I headed on. Approaching Portland, I was gybed and headed north. With full main out I was becoming over powered, however it wasn't long before I was turned to windward and the main was dropped completely. Behind me was the entrance to Portland Marina and I was taken in. In the sheltered harbour of Portland hundreds of little Toppers were out racing and so I was guided around the outside of their course and on to the first 'Tango' pontoon. It had only taken 6 1/2hrs to get here. Once tied on my tanks were soon replenished with water and my batteries at long last had a good baulk, absorption and finally trickle charge from my shore power charger.
With 4 - 5 occasionally 6's promised and much the same the day after, it took a while for my skipper to decided to stick to plan A. The second reef was put back in before I left the pontoon and we waited till the little fleet of Toppers had left before following them out. This time I was lead to the Naval entrance and once outside the sails hoisted, I was short tacked up the side of Portland. Others leaving around the same time were under engine. My skipper had timed it just right I got a lift from the eddy around the inside of Portland and just entered the eastern race to tack once more clear of the Bill itself. The waves in the race always look more menacing from within, but it wasn't long before I was clear of them and pointed at 270 which coincided with the wind 40 degrees to port.
After I had caught and passed two smaller yachts and I think because a larger one had passed me, that my skipper shook out one of the reefs. Again with 6 hours of tide with me I maxed at 10.1 knots SOG but averaged around 7. Now I've been to Torquay a few times, but my crew feel it's a bit run down and the marina's full of Gin Palaces, so I was brought in to Babacombe Bay around 1930. This is the other side of the headland to the east of Torquay. A beautiful bay and I was the only one in it. Cary's Inn is to the south and a kiss me quick type area to the north, divided by a number of linking bridges. My skipper booked in for a meal on Tuesday at Cary's to catch up with their friends in the evening and sit out the 6's that appeared in the forecast.
According to my Skipper, the Cary Inn was a jolly nice Gastro Pub and they had a really nice meal. More importantly they had a good old chin wag with their friends including a Fastnet crew mate. For the third time my skipper actually mastered getting the dinghy ashore without getting a boot full of water. It almost looked as though they knew what they were doing as they launched back to me after their meal. At least they remembered to put my lights on so they could find me on their way back !
Wednesday and the crew were moving around down below around 0900. My new cooker provided them toast for the first time from the grill. With that washed up and the four Mackerel, gutted, cleaned and prepared were given fresh sea water and put in the dinghy, for my next passage. This commenced at around 1130, earlier than the skipper had suggested, but the forecast was for 5 - 6's and at that time the weather had yet to fill in. With two reefs set and a turn of jib, I was set out around Hope's Nose and across Torbay. Once past Berry Head the wind built and the seas became more confused.
25 knots across my deck with my hull occasionally slamming in the next trough. Skipper took over the helm at Start Point. 6.3 knots of boat speed added to that the tide, of course he had the tide worked out and I was pushing 9.0 knots SOG. This enabled me to push through most waves, but there were times when I rose high only to bury my nose deep in the following trough, gallons of water tumbling down my decks towards the crew in the cockpit, like waves making their way up the beach. I'm pleased to say that my bilge remained considerably dry, although some of the seals on my hatches were tested as was the seal around my mast.
Once clear of all headlands and obstructions I was eased away and on a broad reach and attained 6.7 knots of boat speed. Eased further to head for the house indicating the outside of the bar at Salcombe the jib was brought in. Just before the bar I was swung to windward and my main dropped, the skipper radioed the Harbour Master and they brought me in and up the estuary to Salt Stone where I was anchored. This is a quiet spot, a nature reserve amongst the drying creeks. I arrived just after low water but had 1.5m beneath my keel.
The four Mackerel, were shown the inside of my oven and served.
As you can imagine it was pitch black as light faded and my
skipper hadn’t been quite so generous with the anchor chain as he should’ve
been and around high tide at 2300, the anchor alarm sounded as I was being
dragged up river. Fortunately with the
only yacht close by having his anchor light on too, and the GPS still live, I
was brought back round in to deeper water and re-anchored. My skipper did stay up on anchor watch to
make sure I held until the water started to recede.
The dinghy was taken in to town and more food was brought on
board. The small town is always busy
during the summer school holidays but at least we’d manage to miss their
regatta week.
On leaving Salcombe a number of dinghy races were going on
and so I was taken off to one side of the estuary and headed to the bar once
more. The forecast had predicted south
easterlies and 3-4’s so once the main had been sorted out my new sail the G2
‘Thor’ came out from below and was hoisted.
Once filled I could feel the power that immediately came with it. The winds were probably lighter than
predicted but that gave my crew a chance to try various things and I was gybed
back and forth. With the winds as light
as they were Fowey seemed a long shot and so I was taken to Plymouth. Sutton Harbour to be precise through the
lock. Here my crew met up with another
friend for the evening.
Having been replenished once more with fresh water and my
batteries re-vitalised by the charging cycles of the Sterling pro-charger. My skipper radio’d the lock keeper. The lock itself wasn’t required as the water
level enabled free passage in and out, but the footbridge needed to be swung
out of the way and this in itself governed which direction traffic would flow.
Once out in to the Plymouth Sound, my sails hoisted and I
tacked back and forth out and then to Fowey. To a large mooring buoy near the
entrance and Polruen, which is on the east side of the river the town of Fowey
on the west.
Again the dinghy was made ready and the crew headed to
Polruen as there was a sign saying laundry & showers. There’s also a pub there and so a table was
booked for that night too. On returning to me, they didn’t stop but left the
crews handbag and picked up a can of fuel and set off again exploring the
upstream section of the river. Lostwitheil was their goal, however on nearing
Saint Winnow, the river bed could be clearly seen beneath them. With uncertainty as to where the actual main
channel was, it seemed a good time to turn round and run back with the ebbing
tide. The outboard spluttered to a stop, but this was due to it
running out of fuel and once topped up started and ran faultlessly back to me.
St Winnow in the distance, before retreating quickly
The following day my crew went in to Fowey itself, to the Royal Fowey Yacht Club, where showers were taken, my skipper took his lap top and caught up on some work and the crew went in to town to get some fresh vegetables etc.
Making use of the tide as forecasted winds were to be light again, my crew were up and out by 0900. Today was not going to be a sailing day, with main out and tight, my engine was left at 2000 rpm and pointed seaward. With the forecasted winds never materialising, the Autopilot was engaged and a route set, the first time I think this year that it has done that. It did play up for a short while with the words ‘drive lost’ but after resetting it all was well and I pointed to Helford River.
On arrival my skipper radio’d for the mooring officer, but one didn’t exist at that time and so the Helford Ferry answered instead. I was taken to the Pool and a green mooring buoy was lassoed, however there was no ring in the top in which to put ‘Loopy Loo’ through and the sinking line unable to pass the weed growth slipped off. ‘Loopy Loo’ is two lengths of rope with a length of chain between, this stops chaffing. I was motored back downstream to Robins Cove near Durgan and anchored there instead.
Wednesday and my crew were up and ready and so I was sailed out of the estuary and set for the Manacles. The wind appeared light and so the engine was on until a new course was set that would take me past the races off Lizard. A broad reach was then set and I was sailed until past the Lizard and a beam reach was made towards St Michaels Mount. Once inside the bay, I was gybed out but the course sent me well out to sea, so a course was made and the sails set accordingly.
Then the wind died. The crew looked at each other and the jib was furled in, the engine went back on and there was even discussions as to whether 'Thor' could come out. However no sooner said than done the wind filled in with a 40 degree shift, the jib was extracted and I was now close hauled pointing at Newlyn.
Newlyn is a fishing port and boats like me are foreigners, but we're put up with as we bring in extra revenue not only to the port but the local economy too. My nostrils filled with the smell of fish and an oily film wrapped around my hull but I had a place to stay. Fishing boats by the handful prepared themselves and moved around the port like mechanical monsters. The low thud from their engines reverberated as they moved graciously from one spot to another, then eventually out towards the harbour entrance and off to some special spot some miles out to sea.
Setting off for the night, week or months ?
Saturday, and the weather looked more than promising, so I was prepared once more and was sent on my way towards the harbour entrance before the water level became an issue. Once outside and clear and my Skipper had tidied all the lines and put away my fenders, I was turned to point at Mousehole (mouzzall), and up went the main. With the wind light and not the expected 3 - 4's I was motored out in search of more wind, this came but from a westward direction, the direction I was being taken. My jib unfurled I was pointed west of south, just off of Bishop's Rock lighthouse, with light winds 'Chianti' a 30 or so footer was catching me up and eventually passed. The winds strengthened and backed soon I re-passed as we crossed paths once more. Eventually the swell of the sea and the wind direction was such that 'Chianti' started to motor, I was still under sail. Eventually the donk came on and I was pointed at St Agnes and Hugh islands, where I was anchored.
The following day the crew went for a walk around St Agnes and by mid afternoon I was moved across to St Martins and my crew picked up a buoy. Once more the crew disembarked to pay their dues and returned the following day to re-provision. Back on board, I was prepared again and was gently motored between the many islands at low water to expose as many dangers as possible, but still the crew took me slowly round, spotting many seals enjoying the sun on my way to New Grimsby Sound between Tresco and Bryher.
On the Tuesday with light winds my crew raised my anchor and I was taken around the northern part of the islands and headed towards the Lands End TSS. Here too, where many of the Fastnet fleet still trying to make their way to the rock. I was manoeuvred around a few then once clear headed 90 degrees to the shipping lanes. With engine ticking over, my skipper took a few shots of the Wolf Rocklight house as I passed. Progress was slow, but eventually the forecasted wind filled in and about 1730 my sails where hoisted and I was off sailing once more. In fact as the winds were steady not only in direction but consistent in strength, my skipper took time to adjust and trim the sails such that I sailed my self along around 45 degrees off the wind no matter which tack I was on. In fact the crew coming up from listening to the radio below, hauled me over to the opposite tack and released the helm, once I found the wind I adjusted my angle to 45 degrees. My skipper was pleased and now wants me to do the same thing at just of 30 degrees to the wind.
By now I was approaching the Helford river again, but this time I was anchored on the southern side.
Leaving the Scilly's behind
The harbour master insisted that there should be at least 4.0m. My crew remembered that when I was in Scotland, the skipper adjusted my depth gauge to read metres under the keel. My previous owner had me depth below the waterline. Skip, then checked what he had set me at and realised that the 2.3m that he had entered, didn't take in to account the depth below the waterline of my transducer. Giving me another 600mm, so it should have read 1.7m. Once re-calibrated, a lead line was put over the side during several states of the tide to make sure everything was spot on.
Two nights were spent here, whilst the crew did laundry, re-provisioned and managed to visit the National Maritime Museum, which oddly had a theme of the Vikings. Even time for a meal at Rick Steins restaurant instead of their usual favourite fish & chip shop. With water tanks and on board showers used, it was into the murk once more. This time I was headed up the Fal River and to a pontoon just SE of Malpas, which in turn is near Truro. A very remote spot with the river surrounded by deciduous trees and occasional rocky shoreline and it all looked a bit pirate as the murky mist still filled the tree tops.
Me on the pontoon just down stream of Malpas
The following day I was moved back downstream but instead of stopping at St Mawes, the other side from Falmouth, I was headed out to sea. Gorran Haven had been mentioned as a possible anchorage to, but in the misty murk I continued past. Hour after hour I was clocking up the easterly miles, my skipper clearly had other ideas. Eventually I was gybed north and headed in to Cawsand.
Cawsand and Kingsand beautiful Villages
Dittisham was mentioned, but that would be for the following day. The weather that clearly my skipper was trying to get ahead of, caught up. The following day I was moved from the pontoon as promised to the harbour master and taken down stream in torrential rain and high winds to Dittisham a place I had been taken to before but unable to find a mooring buoy. My skipper having spoken to the harbour master had been told of two buoys that I could be rafted against other vessels. As I arrived I was taken low to be turned and headed to wind. Slowly my skipper edged me closer to the yacht mentioned keeping me under control under the high winds, more so than the yacht I was to be rafted against that swung every now and then. Despite words being passed between us boats, no one appeared on deck to lend a hand. On the second approach the difference between my high freeboard and that of the smaller yacht on the buoy was evident and the rafting exercise was abandoned.
I was taken to the Anchor Stone where my anchor was dropped, but with around 15m of water beneath me, howling winds and weed, the anchor never really took and so this exercise was abandoned and I was brought under control to anchor elsewhere. My crew were about to set the kedge anchor to stop me from swinging so violently in the high winds, when on the VHF the harbour master suggested I could be rafted against the old British Steel racing boat back in town. As we approached it was evident that the blue flagged yacht that didn't come to my crews assistance where about to raft on the other side of the same vessel. My skipper refused to speak to them.
That night the winds built and from about midnight to 0400 the wind howled, stretching, pulling at the warps an uncomfortable night for my crew, but after 0400 the wind just stopped.
Deciding that a trip around the corner to Brixham or slightly further north to Teignmouth was not going to give any great benefit, my crew slipped my lines and I was off on the long trip across Lyme Bay. The wind however was such that a course just south of east was made taking me to around 8nm south of Portland Bill before being gybed round and headed towards Weymouth. However the crews mother was going to make a visit and the crew decided that a stop in Weymouth could mean rafting and a 90yr old would struggle to get on board, so I was taken once more to Portland where wide clear pontoons were available. However she did not visit and so I was taken out of Portland and headed to Studland for an overnight stop before heading to Cowes Saturday lunchtime.
Sunday and my skipper had everything on deck to dry out before packing it away. On the Monday my insides where wiped down with disinfectants and all the tinned or canned goods, plus clothing were taken off me. Another year and another adventure, hopefully it won't be too long before I am taken out once more. There's rumours of yet another sail to be added to me suit.
Monday, 20 July 2015
Welcome - Thor
I thought I had been neglected as a couple of weekends have passed and I've been sitting here on my pontoon, over looking all the activity that's been going on at the East Cowes Marina and the children at UKSA centre. The big blue bag has been in my masters cabin since the Round the Island Race.
This weekend though saw my skipper arrive, but this time instead of his usual lighter weight air cooled Honda outboard being on the back of the dinghy, the heavier water cooled Yamaha was powering him up toward me. This usual means one thing, preparations for my month at sea, as it is this slightly more powerful engine they put their trust in when I'm anchored off shore.
But no, more crew turned up and we headed out in to he Solent on a very warm and windless day, as my skipper had said. Once clear of the Fairway and with the flood tide still heading eastwards, the tide not the wind took me in that direction. With full main hoisted, the sail, a Gennaker G2 was hoisted from the master cabins hatch. However, with little in the way of steerage, its launch was halted as there was also a problem trying to find the tack to attach the guys to and so it was sent back down where it came from.
With a steadier breeze and steerge regained, the blue bag was brought up on stored on the foredeck, clipping the bag to the rails. With the halyard re-attached, the guys clipped on and the clew attached to the bow by means of a strop, skipper went back to the cockpit where it was hoisted and ground in. Pulling on the snufflers lines it rose slowly, eventually skipper got his Helm to make a to the south and the westerly wind filled the base of the sail and the snuffler went skywards. Thor appeared rising from the deck as the sail filled with air. Despite the Helm not being happy with the Royal Blue colour, I dipped my shoulder down in recognition of the new power and as I stood back up I powered up.
This pleased my skipper, especially as a freighter had opted to enter the channel I was in. I crossed the channel and in no time at all lunch was being declared. The drop was simple, skipper untied the snuffler line from the base of the mast and pulled the sock over the sail all the way to the rail. Then it was a matter of unclipping the strop from the bow and then bagging it as the halyard was released. Once packed and tidy, I turned to windward, the main was dropped, anchor prepared and I was pointed towards Osborne Bay.
After lunch with the wind now in exceedence of 15 knots, it was unlikely that the G2 would be used again, in fact a single reef was put in to the main before the anchor was weighed. With all whites flying and a southerly wind I was taken towards the Forts. On reaching the red can, a marker for the port side of the small channel the change of helm gybed me slowly over under the guidance of the skipper and headed towards Lee-on-Solent.
With the ebbing tide skipper took over the helm and headed west back to Cowes, 8.5 knots SOG, he spotted a car transporter leaving Southampton Water and so opted to cross right across. This he did and caught and passed a Sigma 38 on the windward side, even with a reef in my main it still dwarfed the Sigma's. Slowly, majestically I pulled passed, the skipper on board the Sigma had tried to push me to starboard and luff my sails, but he'd gone too far himself and had to bear away enabling my skipper to do likewise and present my sails better to the wind and so the quicker I was able to pull away. None of my crew looked directly at them, but they were mine, none to happy to have been passed with such grace !
The Medina was extremely busy as Panneri Classic Week was about to commence, but once passed the melee of yachts and motor cruisers, skipper took over and guided me back to my spot, however the tide was now running fast in the River and so at the second attempt he lined me up near to Polly Agatha and reversed me in to the spot. Once in, he transported the others back to the public pontoon and tidied me up, happy that enough was away and clear. He headed off himself.
Sunday he returned, checked the fluids in my engine and cleared the filters of any debris. He sat in the sunshine in the cockpit with his tea, reading the instructions to the latest gadget the McMurdo AIS class B transponer.
As for the month at sea, I understand that's coming up. Will Thor get to add the miles to my passage as intended, we'll see !
This weekend though saw my skipper arrive, but this time instead of his usual lighter weight air cooled Honda outboard being on the back of the dinghy, the heavier water cooled Yamaha was powering him up toward me. This usual means one thing, preparations for my month at sea, as it is this slightly more powerful engine they put their trust in when I'm anchored off shore.
But no, more crew turned up and we headed out in to he Solent on a very warm and windless day, as my skipper had said. Once clear of the Fairway and with the flood tide still heading eastwards, the tide not the wind took me in that direction. With full main hoisted, the sail, a Gennaker G2 was hoisted from the master cabins hatch. However, with little in the way of steerage, its launch was halted as there was also a problem trying to find the tack to attach the guys to and so it was sent back down where it came from.
With a steadier breeze and steerge regained, the blue bag was brought up on stored on the foredeck, clipping the bag to the rails. With the halyard re-attached, the guys clipped on and the clew attached to the bow by means of a strop, skipper went back to the cockpit where it was hoisted and ground in. Pulling on the snufflers lines it rose slowly, eventually skipper got his Helm to make a to the south and the westerly wind filled the base of the sail and the snuffler went skywards. Thor appeared rising from the deck as the sail filled with air. Despite the Helm not being happy with the Royal Blue colour, I dipped my shoulder down in recognition of the new power and as I stood back up I powered up.
This pleased my skipper, especially as a freighter had opted to enter the channel I was in. I crossed the channel and in no time at all lunch was being declared. The drop was simple, skipper untied the snuffler line from the base of the mast and pulled the sock over the sail all the way to the rail. Then it was a matter of unclipping the strop from the bow and then bagging it as the halyard was released. Once packed and tidy, I turned to windward, the main was dropped, anchor prepared and I was pointed towards Osborne Bay.
After lunch with the wind now in exceedence of 15 knots, it was unlikely that the G2 would be used again, in fact a single reef was put in to the main before the anchor was weighed. With all whites flying and a southerly wind I was taken towards the Forts. On reaching the red can, a marker for the port side of the small channel the change of helm gybed me slowly over under the guidance of the skipper and headed towards Lee-on-Solent.
With the ebbing tide skipper took over the helm and headed west back to Cowes, 8.5 knots SOG, he spotted a car transporter leaving Southampton Water and so opted to cross right across. This he did and caught and passed a Sigma 38 on the windward side, even with a reef in my main it still dwarfed the Sigma's. Slowly, majestically I pulled passed, the skipper on board the Sigma had tried to push me to starboard and luff my sails, but he'd gone too far himself and had to bear away enabling my skipper to do likewise and present my sails better to the wind and so the quicker I was able to pull away. None of my crew looked directly at them, but they were mine, none to happy to have been passed with such grace !
The Medina was extremely busy as Panneri Classic Week was about to commence, but once passed the melee of yachts and motor cruisers, skipper took over and guided me back to my spot, however the tide was now running fast in the River and so at the second attempt he lined me up near to Polly Agatha and reversed me in to the spot. Once in, he transported the others back to the public pontoon and tidied me up, happy that enough was away and clear. He headed off himself.
Sunday he returned, checked the fluids in my engine and cleared the filters of any debris. He sat in the sunshine in the cockpit with his tea, reading the instructions to the latest gadget the McMurdo AIS class B transponer.
As for the month at sea, I understand that's coming up. Will Thor get to add the miles to my passage as intended, we'll see !
Thursday, 2 July 2015
Round The Island Race - 2015
It was on the Friday that my skipper turned up with one of his crew members, to start to prepare me for the following days early start. Instrument covers off, wheel & winch covers off, main halyard attached and lazy Jack bag unzipped. Even to the point that the gas cylinder was switched to ensure no need to change it should it run out part way round. The only thing left to do in the morning would be to sort out slips and clear away the springs.
With more or less everything done in advance that could be, a visiting yacht was spotted coming in to Polly Agatha's space. So skipper & crew, leapt off me to go take their lines. Miss understanding the Belgian flag for the German one, the only English speaking person on board asked if it would be ok to stay there for the night with 3 other boats rafted, they could be seen to be heading in a line back up the Medina. My skipper climbed back on board and grabbed the hand held radio and called up the harbour master. They soon came down and explained that they should continue down river to the Folly Inn where there would be space. The Belgians where totally unaware that the busiest race in the world was about to occur. Once they were happy as where to go, skipper climbed back on board and used the VHF to forewarn the Folly berthing master of there impending guests.
Once happy that I was more or less ship shape and ready for the morning they checked the new cruising chute, a Gennekar G2, but clealry it wasn't the colour that is should've been ! With it re-packed they boarded the dinghy and disappeared in the afternoon sun.
From that point on, the Medina was getting busier by the hour and yachts were starting to raft. Rod the old live-a-board, who used to be at the end of my pontoon, had been shifted to make space and temporary re-located next to me. He had nearly set fire to his boat, dropping something on the batteries during a charging session I think he said ! Still he did look a bit be-draggled as he came out on deck covered in white powder.
At around 0630 on the Saturday my skipper was dropped off from the dinghy, climbed aboard and started my engine and fired up all the instruments. When he was satisfied everything was talking properly to each other, he set up the slip lines and took in the springs. More and more people arrived, until there was eight on board. Following a brief safety talk and everyone in their position, I was put in reverse until the bow came out. However the chap on the stern slip, was a tad slow or didn't appear to know what he was doing. Rather than pull the line in he waited till I had pulled it all off the pontoon and in to the water before retrieving it, despite the numerous instructions that were being hailed at him fro various points on my decks. As fenders and lines were stowed, my skipper had everyone wear their viking helmets ready for the start line and to give spectators something to giggle about.
This year, the tide was still going to be against us at the start. My skipper took me quite far east to hoist the sails and off to the far end of the start line, to keep the wind that otherwise could be shadowed by the island closer in. We were about two minutes behind our start time of 0740, but at least in reasonably clear water. Plan A was to take one long take up to the Needles, but the wind direction changed this. It was hoped to make the Needles by 1100 and this was easily achieved and I had passed Freshwater Bay by then. By this time with more sea room the fleet dispersed with two distinct split in tacticks. Some went out to get a more consistent wind angle, others kept in to keep out of the stronger ebbing tide. I was taken out.
The wind steadily built and once past St Catherine's point, close to where my crew abandoned the race last year due to no wind, 26 knots was blowing across my decks. The swell was coming from the starboard rear quarter, lifting that corner of my stern and trying to turn me round. Skipper was caught out by a gust and a large wave and couldn't stop me from turning head to wind. Many other boats were also broaching with a few popping their spinnakers too. Once a reef was ground in and my skipper happy he turned me round and headed back on course under much more civilised control.
One gybe later and I was pointing to the only mark on the course Bembridge Ledge Cardinal Buoy. Although to get a better wind angle I had to be pointed higher and my skipper was playing with the turning tide to push me back out again. Once round the mark Ryde Sands becomes an issue for me and so I was taken out to the port mark marking the edge of shallow water. Then it was a case of praying for the tide to assist, but this is the Solent and tides do strange things here, and tacking as least times as possible to get across the correct finish line.
It was a struggle getting across the southern finish line as the tide was pushing me away from the committee boat and the winds appeared to go light. But cross it we did in 9 hrs 50 minutes
With more or less everything done in advance that could be, a visiting yacht was spotted coming in to Polly Agatha's space. So skipper & crew, leapt off me to go take their lines. Miss understanding the Belgian flag for the German one, the only English speaking person on board asked if it would be ok to stay there for the night with 3 other boats rafted, they could be seen to be heading in a line back up the Medina. My skipper climbed back on board and grabbed the hand held radio and called up the harbour master. They soon came down and explained that they should continue down river to the Folly Inn where there would be space. The Belgians where totally unaware that the busiest race in the world was about to occur. Once they were happy as where to go, skipper climbed back on board and used the VHF to forewarn the Folly berthing master of there impending guests.
Once happy that I was more or less ship shape and ready for the morning they checked the new cruising chute, a Gennekar G2, but clealry it wasn't the colour that is should've been ! With it re-packed they boarded the dinghy and disappeared in the afternoon sun.
From that point on, the Medina was getting busier by the hour and yachts were starting to raft. Rod the old live-a-board, who used to be at the end of my pontoon, had been shifted to make space and temporary re-located next to me. He had nearly set fire to his boat, dropping something on the batteries during a charging session I think he said ! Still he did look a bit be-draggled as he came out on deck covered in white powder.
At around 0630 on the Saturday my skipper was dropped off from the dinghy, climbed aboard and started my engine and fired up all the instruments. When he was satisfied everything was talking properly to each other, he set up the slip lines and took in the springs. More and more people arrived, until there was eight on board. Following a brief safety talk and everyone in their position, I was put in reverse until the bow came out. However the chap on the stern slip, was a tad slow or didn't appear to know what he was doing. Rather than pull the line in he waited till I had pulled it all off the pontoon and in to the water before retrieving it, despite the numerous instructions that were being hailed at him fro various points on my decks. As fenders and lines were stowed, my skipper had everyone wear their viking helmets ready for the start line and to give spectators something to giggle about.
This year, the tide was still going to be against us at the start. My skipper took me quite far east to hoist the sails and off to the far end of the start line, to keep the wind that otherwise could be shadowed by the island closer in. We were about two minutes behind our start time of 0740, but at least in reasonably clear water. Plan A was to take one long take up to the Needles, but the wind direction changed this. It was hoped to make the Needles by 1100 and this was easily achieved and I had passed Freshwater Bay by then. By this time with more sea room the fleet dispersed with two distinct split in tacticks. Some went out to get a more consistent wind angle, others kept in to keep out of the stronger ebbing tide. I was taken out.
The wind steadily built and once past St Catherine's point, close to where my crew abandoned the race last year due to no wind, 26 knots was blowing across my decks. The swell was coming from the starboard rear quarter, lifting that corner of my stern and trying to turn me round. Skipper was caught out by a gust and a large wave and couldn't stop me from turning head to wind. Many other boats were also broaching with a few popping their spinnakers too. Once a reef was ground in and my skipper happy he turned me round and headed back on course under much more civilised control.
One gybe later and I was pointing to the only mark on the course Bembridge Ledge Cardinal Buoy. Although to get a better wind angle I had to be pointed higher and my skipper was playing with the turning tide to push me back out again. Once round the mark Ryde Sands becomes an issue for me and so I was taken out to the port mark marking the edge of shallow water. Then it was a case of praying for the tide to assist, but this is the Solent and tides do strange things here, and tacking as least times as possible to get across the correct finish line.
It was a struggle getting across the southern finish line as the tide was pushing me away from the committee boat and the winds appeared to go light. But cross it we did in 9 hrs 50 minutes
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