Thursday 28th August 2008
Firstly ... Sorry for the delay in posting as Internet access is a nightmare. I am posting this from a Virus infected piece of cr*p in some CyberCafe dive!
Firstly ... Sorry for the delay in posting as Internet access is a nightmare. I am posting this from a Virus infected piece of cr*p in some CyberCafe dive!
After getting back to Doris around midday, moored in a now empty looking Camaret marina, we made a teary farewell to my parents before making preparations to set sail and go for the Biscay crossing.
The weather window had been looking very ‘good’ for the last few days due to a massive high pressure system in the Atlantic over the Azores, the term ‘good’, as in no storms or severe weather and if anything, a lack of wind was to expected.
However, strong winds were forecast to make an appearance around Monday in North Biscay and I was slightly worried about the effects of the swell that may get pushed into the bay. The decision to ‘go for it’ was based on the assumption of getting far enough south and across the bay before the onset of the increased winds in the north.
Just before we had left to visit my parents we had met single hander called Bruce from the UK who had intended to cross from Cornwall to Portugal / Spain immediately, however, bad weather had forced him to divert south past Ushant and into Camaret.
Bruce has just set sail for the ‘big one’ and like us it was very early days into his journey. We had a chat with Bruce before leaving and he was in two minds whether to port hop around Biscay or like us simply go for the direct crossing. Unfortunately, GPS problems meant he had to wait for some spares to arrive before departing. Hopefully, we will bump into Bruce in the near future and find out how his plan is progressing.
We left the berth around 1700 and filled Doris up with ‘Gazoil’, as I wanted to ensure given a lack of wind I could (if required) motor all the way across Biscay before the bad weather became a risk. It’s nice having the safety net of a good engine to fall back on. Bruce had told us that his boat ‘Ejay’ had a 2hp single cylinder engine that could manage around 3 knots on a good day and down wind!
Motoring out into the Rade De Brest bay my next discovery was how good ‘Heidi’ the Hydrovane can hold the boat into wind to raise the mainsail. Leaving the Hydrovane in the centre with the bare minimum of forward revs, raising the mainsail was so easy compared to my previous efforts at doing it single handed without any form of ‘self steering’.
In light winds we tacked our way out to open waters and it wasn’t long before we saw several dolphin fins breaking the surface some way off. I had said previously that that you are not a sailor until you have had dolphins alongside the boat, I was getting close!
Throughout the night we had to Motorsail as the winds were simply to light to sail, the only consolation being that the water was so flat and calm. It was a funny feeling knowing I was heading really ‘offshore’ for the first time ever. Daz had bought my attention to the fact that the log was reading just over 1000nm and this seemed a pretty good achievement in itself. Since taking ownership of Doris in February I had clocked up 1000nm with sailing on weekends around Brighton and the last three weeks of this trip. To put things into perspective, the plotted course for the Biscay crossing was just over 350nm – over a third of the distance I had sailed in the last seven months!
On the second evening I was snoozing down below while Daz steered only to be called up on deck as a matter of urgency. I could not believe what I was seeing! It looked as if every Dolphin in the entire Atlantic had decided to escort us across Biscay. Does this mean I now qualify as a ‘sailor’? The sight was simply amazing with some of them ‘getting air’ jumping completely out of the water. Down below you can hear their sonar through the boat hull.
Later after the Dolphin incident, Daz was below getting some sleep and it had been ‘dark’ for about an hour. I was settling down in the rear portside corner of the cockpit now happy to get the motor turned off and making good speed under sail alone. Suddenly, to my left I heard the sound of a ‘blow hole’, similar to that we had heard from the Dolphins but much louder, longer and deeper. I immediately sat upright squinting into the darkness. Less than 30ft to the left of the boat and going in the opposite direction what looked like a submarine surfaced, the black silhouette of a whale about the size of Doris clearly visible. This incident completely spun me out! With so many recent reporting of boats hitting Whales in the boating news, I insisted we put the stereo (speakers are below the waterline) on immediately. I was in two minds, part of me wanted to see more whales but in clearer light etc and the other part wanted them to stay completely away.
The days went by with Daz and I taking ‘shifts’ behind the wheel sleeping when we felt either we had to or could. Daz looked after a large portion of the helming while under motor, and when I had set up the sails and Hydrovane so as to not require any attention. We used the ‘kitchen egg timer’ to ensure that whoever was left on deck scanned the horizon for shipping every half hour with the binoculars.
Daz’s tapeworm / boredom also ensured the hot drinks and food kept flowing. While we had barely a few drops of rain for the entire trip, the boat was completely soaked each night looking like we had endured a sever downpour due to damp and with crystal clear skies it was freezing cold. We quickly learnt to ensure that the cabin doors were kept shut to prevent clothes and bedding from becoming cold and damp.
While the weather had been superb for the entire crossing with no bad weather or conditions experienced the one thing that was ‘different’ was the constant Atlantic swell that rolled in.
The weather window had been looking very ‘good’ for the last few days due to a massive high pressure system in the Atlantic over the Azores, the term ‘good’, as in no storms or severe weather and if anything, a lack of wind was to expected.
However, strong winds were forecast to make an appearance around Monday in North Biscay and I was slightly worried about the effects of the swell that may get pushed into the bay. The decision to ‘go for it’ was based on the assumption of getting far enough south and across the bay before the onset of the increased winds in the north.
Just before we had left to visit my parents we had met single hander called Bruce from the UK who had intended to cross from Cornwall to Portugal / Spain immediately, however, bad weather had forced him to divert south past Ushant and into Camaret.
Bruce has just set sail for the ‘big one’ and like us it was very early days into his journey. We had a chat with Bruce before leaving and he was in two minds whether to port hop around Biscay or like us simply go for the direct crossing. Unfortunately, GPS problems meant he had to wait for some spares to arrive before departing. Hopefully, we will bump into Bruce in the near future and find out how his plan is progressing.
We left the berth around 1700 and filled Doris up with ‘Gazoil’, as I wanted to ensure given a lack of wind I could (if required) motor all the way across Biscay before the bad weather became a risk. It’s nice having the safety net of a good engine to fall back on. Bruce had told us that his boat ‘Ejay’ had a 2hp single cylinder engine that could manage around 3 knots on a good day and down wind!
Motoring out into the Rade De Brest bay my next discovery was how good ‘Heidi’ the Hydrovane can hold the boat into wind to raise the mainsail. Leaving the Hydrovane in the centre with the bare minimum of forward revs, raising the mainsail was so easy compared to my previous efforts at doing it single handed without any form of ‘self steering’.
In light winds we tacked our way out to open waters and it wasn’t long before we saw several dolphin fins breaking the surface some way off. I had said previously that that you are not a sailor until you have had dolphins alongside the boat, I was getting close!
Throughout the night we had to Motorsail as the winds were simply to light to sail, the only consolation being that the water was so flat and calm. It was a funny feeling knowing I was heading really ‘offshore’ for the first time ever. Daz had bought my attention to the fact that the log was reading just over 1000nm and this seemed a pretty good achievement in itself. Since taking ownership of Doris in February I had clocked up 1000nm with sailing on weekends around Brighton and the last three weeks of this trip. To put things into perspective, the plotted course for the Biscay crossing was just over 350nm – over a third of the distance I had sailed in the last seven months!
On the second evening I was snoozing down below while Daz steered only to be called up on deck as a matter of urgency. I could not believe what I was seeing! It looked as if every Dolphin in the entire Atlantic had decided to escort us across Biscay. Does this mean I now qualify as a ‘sailor’? The sight was simply amazing with some of them ‘getting air’ jumping completely out of the water. Down below you can hear their sonar through the boat hull.
Later after the Dolphin incident, Daz was below getting some sleep and it had been ‘dark’ for about an hour. I was settling down in the rear portside corner of the cockpit now happy to get the motor turned off and making good speed under sail alone. Suddenly, to my left I heard the sound of a ‘blow hole’, similar to that we had heard from the Dolphins but much louder, longer and deeper. I immediately sat upright squinting into the darkness. Less than 30ft to the left of the boat and going in the opposite direction what looked like a submarine surfaced, the black silhouette of a whale about the size of Doris clearly visible. This incident completely spun me out! With so many recent reporting of boats hitting Whales in the boating news, I insisted we put the stereo (speakers are below the waterline) on immediately. I was in two minds, part of me wanted to see more whales but in clearer light etc and the other part wanted them to stay completely away.
The days went by with Daz and I taking ‘shifts’ behind the wheel sleeping when we felt either we had to or could. Daz looked after a large portion of the helming while under motor, and when I had set up the sails and Hydrovane so as to not require any attention. We used the ‘kitchen egg timer’ to ensure that whoever was left on deck scanned the horizon for shipping every half hour with the binoculars.
Daz’s tapeworm / boredom also ensured the hot drinks and food kept flowing. While we had barely a few drops of rain for the entire trip, the boat was completely soaked each night looking like we had endured a sever downpour due to damp and with crystal clear skies it was freezing cold. We quickly learnt to ensure that the cabin doors were kept shut to prevent clothes and bedding from becoming cold and damp.
While the weather had been superb for the entire crossing with no bad weather or conditions experienced the one thing that was ‘different’ was the constant Atlantic swell that rolled in.
Long smooth waves of around 2m-3m that made anything on the horizon appear and vanish for 10 seconds at a time. Being out of sight of land for days also meant that as we progressed I started to appreciate a changing ‘seascape’, with areas of water looking distinctly ‘different’. Lastly, with the water being over 4000m deep once over the Atlantic shelf, the water looks like someone has tipped blue paint into the water, a colour of water I have never seen before.
After breaking the new Genoa Pole by snapping the mast end jaw while furling in the sail (still not sure what caused this), the following sail combinations were settled on, with the biggest problem being the constant Atlantic swell and light variable wind combination.
With very light winds (less than 6kn) I used the full mainsail and genoa but had to keep the wind ‘slightly above the beam’ as the Hydrovane could not handle the dramtic change from the increase / decrease in the apparent wind speed / direction caused by going from above to below the beam. With the wind below the beam, there was simply not enough wind to allow the Hydrovane to work at all, even in its most sensitive setting.
After breaking the new Genoa Pole by snapping the mast end jaw while furling in the sail (still not sure what caused this), the following sail combinations were settled on, with the biggest problem being the constant Atlantic swell and light variable wind combination.
With very light winds (less than 6kn) I used the full mainsail and genoa but had to keep the wind ‘slightly above the beam’ as the Hydrovane could not handle the dramtic change from the increase / decrease in the apparent wind speed / direction caused by going from above to below the beam. With the wind below the beam, there was simply not enough wind to allow the Hydrovane to work at all, even in its most sensitive setting.
While Daz was asleep below I decided to use my new found trust in sailing companion ‘Heidi’ to experiment with the Assymetric Spinnaker, with both hoisting and lowering being ‘childs play’ with the hydrovane holding a reliable course under mainsail while single handed. With resultant boat speeds of 6-7kn we may have made much better time, but I almost got sunstroke while standing there helming for hours. I’m fundamentally lazy so this soon seemed like hard work!
In variable winds the over powered Assymetric was too much for the hydrovane to handle. In winds around 10kn, I could not use the genoa for downwind sailing as the Atlantic swell heeled the boat over to cause the over powered genoa to constantly round up, with Doris eventually galloping off from a broadreach to closereach. Instead, a ‘prevented’ mainsail held a surprising accurate downwind course when steered by the Hydrovane.
As the wind increased so did the amount of ‘snaking’ (again as a result of the rolling swell) and simply reducing the mainsail served to hold a straighter course which was dependable right down to just off a ‘run’. Simply disengage the hydrovane, wait a few seconds for the boat to naturally round up and without touching the mainsheet, allow the main to luff while the reef is either put in or shaken out. Reapply preventer tension and engage the hydrovane to steer us back down wind. Easy.. Even Single Handed!
Ok, we wasn’t breaking any speed records but a steady 5kn (higher when surfing down the wave faces) meant that I did not need to touch either the sails or wheel for hours at a time. All in all it was a good experience and learning exercise to play with the sail and hydrovane combinations in the swelly and variable conditions.
It seems that the Hydrovane suffers when the apparent wind speed / direction component is large in comparisom to the real wind speed / direction. Commonsense I suppose, but not something that becomes clear until you get your hands ‘dirty’. Still haven’t had the chance to try poled out genoa and mainsail as Wing N Wing. Maybe next time when I get the pole repaired.
We made landfall around midnight on Sunday and again were forced to use the motor due to a complete lack of any wind.
Daz about ready for "YachtMaster"...
Our final approach into La Coruna being made through fog. Our initial plan to enter the ‘La Coruna marina’ were changed when it appeared it is currently closed or under development, so we went the 5 minutes further past the La Coruna breakwater into the newer Darsena marina. A quick call on channel VHF 09 saw someone coming out in a small boat to escort us to our berth. Mooring went very smoothly (thank god) and we were quickly tied up and secure by 1030utc Monday morning. This is the first time I have been asked for boat and crew details including insurance details and passport numbers.
There are a large number of ARC 2008 boats also moored here with more arriving everyday indicating that I can now relax in terms of seasons and geographical progress with Biscay now ‘behind me’.
Costa Crew – (Official Sponsor of Doris) The bottle of Champaign was finally lovingly unwrapped and wearing my Brighton colours we toasted both our success and the Pontoon8 posse (absent friends). Needless to say it was a pretty ‘happy’ skipper who finally relaxed with a stupid grin on his face!
So to conclude, after 378nm (log) Biscay has been officially ‘Boshed’! So how do I feel? Well I acknowledge that it is quite an achievement for someone with such little sailing experience as myself and a crew of almost zero practical sailing experience, but we were extremely lucky with the weather.
I guess the question is: Is it better to make a good seaman like decision based on good weather forecasting and common sense and find it easy going – or – experience bad weather, which then translates into a greater feeling of achievement? Or - Do I simply think too much?
One thing is for certain, my confidence in my own decision making and perceived understanding of all this ‘sailing stuff’ has grown tremendously over the last three weeks.
I’ll post more about La Coruna soon enough… Internet connection allowing.
