Yesterday, part way across the Bay of Biscay, we were trying to roll in the reefing headsail but it jammed. This was the mechanism that had failed in the Channel and caused us to divert into Falmouth for repairs, which clearly weren't successful. We removed the headsail to look at the mechanism to the great interest of a pod of dolphins, who stayed with us throughout the exercise. Presumably they had never seen a sail taken down before. No success with the mechanism, we think it is the cable inside the forestay that is caught and is winding itself tighter with every turn. So we have rolled the sail in by hand, tied it in place and are now diverting to La Coruna instead of Bayona. Also, the shower pump packed in yesterday afternoon and I had to bale out the shower with a bucket and sponge. Apparently the pump was blocked solid with grey pubic hair - not mine, I hasten to add - I haven't got any! Well no grey ones anyway, I wouldn't want you to think I had had a Hollywood!.
Who said sailing is a science? You can plan with the best of them, but you always need a plan B as well. So, having stood three watches last night I got my head down this morning to catch up on some sorely missed zzzz's and feel much better for it. Getting out of my bunk at 5am was not easy!
The whole trip is making me think long and hard about our own boat - whether we would want to do the hard physically demanding, mentally draining long passages is up for debate. Would I want to do deliveries on a regular basis? No. Would Debra want to do a trip like this at all? Probably not. Therefore, should we be looking at a cheaper boat to pootle around on day sails or short trips? Maybe, possibly definitely. We have some discussions to have when I get to shore in La Coruna. What I have found out though, is that the longer you are on passage, the more you attune to the rigours of life aboard and it becomes second nature to cook eat, drink, and ablute in the various forms whilst hanging onto a grabrail somewhere nearby and leaning into the heel of the boat. Definitely need non-slip surfaces wherever possible.
23 Sept 2011
22 Sept 2011
[Captains Blog] Bay of Biscay
Aboard 'Heartbeat IV' a Dufour 45, part way across the Bay of Biscay. The weather is sunny, the winds have dropped significantly, and we are motor sailing our merry way southwards towards the north coast of Spain.
It's been a funny old few days. Having had to join the boat at Weymouth instead of Dartmouth because the bad weather had precipitated (excuse the pun, but fully intended) a diversion into a comfortable berth alongside the town quay. I joined on Sunday, met the rest of the crew, had my briefing on the boat, reworked the passage plan to avoid going into Dartmouth altogether, dined aboard and we went off to the pub. Monday we set sail around noon and headed out past Portland Harbour and the Bill setting south for a good distance to avoid the Portland races. Having achieved that, we headed west straight into the wind and tide. Knowing we would be beating (tacking) up into the wind we didn't expect it to be easy, but after a couple of hours, the Portland Bill was still on our starboard side, even though we were making 6+ knots through the water.
Come Monday evening, we were still making heavy weather of the journey, coupled with some knotting of the foresail sheets which decided to recreate the Philosophers knot. Going forwards to clear this tangle, one of the crew that remained back in the cockpit took a heavy fall and injured his hip. Shortly afterwards, another crew member got 'side-swiped' by the mainsheet and also feel in the cockpit. Who says going forwards on the boat is dangerous??? However, having exerted a lot of energy and focus in getting the bloody sheets untangled, I returned to the cockpit feeling rather queasy, and for only the second time in my life, I was seasick, and threw up at sea into the ship's bucket. A Ralph, Ruth and Huey later, I had cleared my system and promptly headed off to my bunk to get some sleep.
After a somewhat fragmented sleep on Monday night,Tuesday dawned much the same, except this time there was a liberal dosage of rain to add to our discomfort. Nevertheless, we continued on our way with one crew member unable to do much, slowly making our way westwards with the aim to reach The Lizard before bearing away south. In an attempt to roll out some additional headsail, the roller mechanism jammed. As we were trying desperately to free this off and drop the headsail down to the deck, a pod of dolphins swam alongside, obviously curious to see what was going on on the foredeck. They cavorted around the bow for the best part of 30 minutes or more while we struggled, then I suggested we diverted into Falmouth which was only 6 miles away to sort it out. Wrapping the headsail by hand, we eventually got it furled, tied it off, and headed for port. By the way, the water pump had also packed up, so we had no means of getting water out of the tanks to use. By the time we had sorted the boat out and had something to eat, no-one was in the frame of mind to go ashore, so we retired early absolutely knackered.
Next morning the sun shone. We hung our our oilies to dry, had a shower ashore, the riggers came out to sort the foresail reefing mechanism, the water pump issue appeared to be resolved and the crew were about to mutiny. We were not happy with the faults that we were constantly having to fix on a year-old boat that has obviously been thrashed by racing her regularly. Three of us went off for breakfast to think about the circumstances we found ourselves in, and Peter, the injured crew member went off to hospital to get his injury checked out. An hour or two later, the problems resolved, we reconvened aboard to decide whether to continue or not. Peter was to leave the boat on medical advice, and we were now a crew of four, which meant watch on, watch off. More tiring, and a case of sleep whenever you can, but we decided to continue.
At 2pm, we set sail and headed southwards towards Ushant. For once, the wind was brisk (around 20 -23 knots) and the swell was not hammering the boat so we made better progress. Creaming along through the water at a steady 8 knots, this boat showed her paces and we arrived of Ushant 2 hours earlier than expected. Crossing the traffic separation scheme in the middle of the Channel (effectively like a motorway for large boats and tankers), we had to dodge several commercial ships who kept to their course even though we were the stand-on vessel and had 'right of way'. I came off watch at 6am and hit my bunk like a lead weight. The wind dropped to below 10 knots during the night and we are now motoring at a steady 1600 rpm to maintain speed without consuming too much fuel. The boat is steady enough for me to type this, and I am going on deck to enjoy the sunshine.
It's been a funny old few days. Having had to join the boat at Weymouth instead of Dartmouth because the bad weather had precipitated (excuse the pun, but fully intended) a diversion into a comfortable berth alongside the town quay. I joined on Sunday, met the rest of the crew, had my briefing on the boat, reworked the passage plan to avoid going into Dartmouth altogether, dined aboard and we went off to the pub. Monday we set sail around noon and headed out past Portland Harbour and the Bill setting south for a good distance to avoid the Portland races. Having achieved that, we headed west straight into the wind and tide. Knowing we would be beating (tacking) up into the wind we didn't expect it to be easy, but after a couple of hours, the Portland Bill was still on our starboard side, even though we were making 6+ knots through the water.
Come Monday evening, we were still making heavy weather of the journey, coupled with some knotting of the foresail sheets which decided to recreate the Philosophers knot. Going forwards to clear this tangle, one of the crew that remained back in the cockpit took a heavy fall and injured his hip. Shortly afterwards, another crew member got 'side-swiped' by the mainsheet and also feel in the cockpit. Who says going forwards on the boat is dangerous??? However, having exerted a lot of energy and focus in getting the bloody sheets untangled, I returned to the cockpit feeling rather queasy, and for only the second time in my life, I was seasick, and threw up at sea into the ship's bucket. A Ralph, Ruth and Huey later, I had cleared my system and promptly headed off to my bunk to get some sleep.
After a somewhat fragmented sleep on Monday night,Tuesday dawned much the same, except this time there was a liberal dosage of rain to add to our discomfort. Nevertheless, we continued on our way with one crew member unable to do much, slowly making our way westwards with the aim to reach The Lizard before bearing away south. In an attempt to roll out some additional headsail, the roller mechanism jammed. As we were trying desperately to free this off and drop the headsail down to the deck, a pod of dolphins swam alongside, obviously curious to see what was going on on the foredeck. They cavorted around the bow for the best part of 30 minutes or more while we struggled, then I suggested we diverted into Falmouth which was only 6 miles away to sort it out. Wrapping the headsail by hand, we eventually got it furled, tied it off, and headed for port. By the way, the water pump had also packed up, so we had no means of getting water out of the tanks to use. By the time we had sorted the boat out and had something to eat, no-one was in the frame of mind to go ashore, so we retired early absolutely knackered.
Next morning the sun shone. We hung our our oilies to dry, had a shower ashore, the riggers came out to sort the foresail reefing mechanism, the water pump issue appeared to be resolved and the crew were about to mutiny. We were not happy with the faults that we were constantly having to fix on a year-old boat that has obviously been thrashed by racing her regularly. Three of us went off for breakfast to think about the circumstances we found ourselves in, and Peter, the injured crew member went off to hospital to get his injury checked out. An hour or two later, the problems resolved, we reconvened aboard to decide whether to continue or not. Peter was to leave the boat on medical advice, and we were now a crew of four, which meant watch on, watch off. More tiring, and a case of sleep whenever you can, but we decided to continue.
At 2pm, we set sail and headed southwards towards Ushant. For once, the wind was brisk (around 20 -23 knots) and the swell was not hammering the boat so we made better progress. Creaming along through the water at a steady 8 knots, this boat showed her paces and we arrived of Ushant 2 hours earlier than expected. Crossing the traffic separation scheme in the middle of the Channel (effectively like a motorway for large boats and tankers), we had to dodge several commercial ships who kept to their course even though we were the stand-on vessel and had 'right of way'. I came off watch at 6am and hit my bunk like a lead weight. The wind dropped to below 10 knots during the night and we are now motoring at a steady 1600 rpm to maintain speed without consuming too much fuel. The boat is steady enough for me to type this, and I am going on deck to enjoy the sunshine.
28 Aug 2011
[Captains Blog] Captain Peewit signing back online
Captain Peewit signing back online.
Having spent three months landlocked it is time to break free and get back to sea (albeit for a short while).
I am going to be helping to deliver a boat in September in the company of my sailing mentor "Sticky" Stapylton who has taught me a great deal about sailing. It will no doubt turn into an arduous crossing with the relentless Sticky drilling me at all times, day and night when I am on watch. It will be an ideal opportunity to practice and hone my astro-navigation skills and experience the delights of the North Atlantic Ocean and the Bay of Biscay (notoriously rough).
I will be posting my blog at every opportunity.
Having spent three months landlocked it is time to break free and get back to sea (albeit for a short while).
I am going to be helping to deliver a boat in September in the company of my sailing mentor "Sticky" Stapylton who has taught me a great deal about sailing. It will no doubt turn into an arduous crossing with the relentless Sticky drilling me at all times, day and night when I am on watch. It will be an ideal opportunity to practice and hone my astro-navigation skills and experience the delights of the North Atlantic Ocean and the Bay of Biscay (notoriously rough).
I will be posting my blog at every opportunity.
5 May 2011
[Cruise News] Admiral's Inn, English Harbour, Antigua
Well Pandora is now out of the water and we're back on dry land after 26 weeks afloat. It was rather sad watching her being hauled out on the back of a giant trailer that had been submerged into the sea and into which Paul manouevred seemlessly, feeling very much like the end of our sailing adventure for now. So now she's chocked up in the air and access is via a ladder that must be at least 12 feet long .... it feels very high and rather daunting. Fall off now, and no soft landing in the sea so we'd better be sure-footed. The next 6 months will see her fully serviced and repaired ready for the next sailing season.
We've had an incredible time out here and have learned an awful lot about ourselves, sailing and the perfect boat. There have been tough times and challenges to face but we've made it through better sailors and fit and healthy. We've enjoyed the company of an international mix of people and have loved being part of the sailing community. But we've also been touched by and appreciated the regular contact from friends at home and the positive response to the blog.
And we can't close off without a big thank you to my parents, our friends and employees who enabled us to embark on this adventure in the first place, shouldering the burden of Easton Court in our absence and sending us on our way with a clear concscience to let us live our dream.
So thanks to everyone for their interest, support and good wishes and we look forward to catching up with you all in the weeks to come.
And finally, from First Mate Debra (Dominique to a certain crew member) it's "Pandora Out" for the last time this season.
We've had an incredible time out here and have learned an awful lot about ourselves, sailing and the perfect boat. There have been tough times and challenges to face but we've made it through better sailors and fit and healthy. We've enjoyed the company of an international mix of people and have loved being part of the sailing community. But we've also been touched by and appreciated the regular contact from friends at home and the positive response to the blog.
And we can't close off without a big thank you to my parents, our friends and employees who enabled us to embark on this adventure in the first place, shouldering the burden of Easton Court in our absence and sending us on our way with a clear concscience to let us live our dream.
So thanks to everyone for their interest, support and good wishes and we look forward to catching up with you all in the weeks to come.
And finally, from First Mate Debra (Dominique to a certain crew member) it's "Pandora Out" for the last time this season.
[Captains Blog] The Admiral's Inn, English Harbour, Antigua
It's been an interesting week, the buzz that we experienced here during race week has competely disapperaed, along with many of the boats. It has rapidly turned into a ghost town. The season is over, and sailors are departing in their droves. We experienced something similar a few years ago when sailing our own boat, Four Jays into Salcombe at the end of September. We had sailed there the week before, and the whole place was heaving with tourists and sailors, then suddenly one week later, everywhere was closed up, the water taxis were no longer running and that was it until the following spring.
Here it is similar. All repairs are being carried out to make boats seaworthy prior to setting sail for the UK or Europe. We have been doing our own maintenance in preparation for haul out and lay-up. Not much difference, except we will get back to the UK a lot quicker by air!
This will be the final entry in the Captain's Blog for this season - nothing of any interest to report on now! Thanks to all who have followed our adventure and helped make it the pleasure it has been. We have, in the words of Mr Spock "boldly gone where we have never been before" and hope you have enjoyed reading about it over the last six months.
Captain Peewit signing off, for now at least.
Here it is similar. All repairs are being carried out to make boats seaworthy prior to setting sail for the UK or Europe. We have been doing our own maintenance in preparation for haul out and lay-up. Not much difference, except we will get back to the UK a lot quicker by air!
This will be the final entry in the Captain's Blog for this season - nothing of any interest to report on now! Thanks to all who have followed our adventure and helped make it the pleasure it has been. We have, in the words of Mr Spock "boldly gone where we have never been before" and hope you have enjoyed reading about it over the last six months.
Captain Peewit signing off, for now at least.
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