Where is Doris?...

Saturday, 6 September 2008

Single Handed Friends

Into Saturday, well not much to report. I cleaned the boat, my clothes and myself after going for my moonlight swim in the marina. Without going to much into details, Daz decided to leave so I am now ‘Single Handed’.

I returned from town to find both Jack & Brian sharing a glass of wine aboard Timshel (Brian’s boat) and I quickly joined them. After swapping details we said farewell to Jack who was returning home (Spain) the next day. Who knows we may even cross tracks on down the line.

Jack – Old sea dog who circumnavigated with his wife for over 17 years and still sailing. Making progress to Gibraltar over the next few months to carry out repairs on his new vessel just purchased a few weeks ago.

Brian – A translator who has been sailing since age 15 and been living aboard various boats in France for the last 10 years and has now set sail in Timshel bound for the Canaries via Africa, soon to be joined by his girlfriend – sound familiar?


Fair winds & Calm Seas to them both…

Friday, 5 September 2008

In The Drink!

Today I decided to do the tourist thing and went for a long walk by myself. Daz spent the day asleep recovering from an evening on the wine with Brian and myself, I felt a bit ‘worn’ but had to get out in the fresh air.

I walked all along the coast and even visited the Tore of Hurcules before coming full circle via the town centre with a KitKat McFlurry to reward myself.

The beach here is lovely and the waves looked to die for … given more time this would be worth a surf, it’s a shame the boys aren’t out here!

Friday evening, me and Daz were getting the boat ready to set sail first thing in the morning. As we were filling her up with water, I got my foot stuck under the black mooring line in the dark and jumped down onto the wobbly finger pontoon with one leg still entagled on the boat. I seemed to hover there for ages before accepting my fate! Into the water I went. It actually wasn’t that cold and before I hauled my ass over the pontoon It would have been quite laughable but I realised I had my mobile phone in my pocket.

Luckily, the SIM still works and I have an old Nokia backup phone – Gutted about losing the more modern phone though.

Thursday, 4 September 2008

Ramblings from a La Coruna Cafe

Ok I have found a cafe that allows you to use your own laptop on their WIFI network.
First things first...
Happy Birthday (love & cuddles) to Melody Crute and thankyou to Mr Crute for posting my position via twitter while I was 'out there'.
Mucho thanks Tom for sorting out the domain - C ya soon? Whats going on on planet Verizon - someone give me all the latest on what I'm missing as I havent heard from anyone! Not even the Vegas stories! Dave - you alive?
So whats new out here?...
Well I heard that Bruce had to 'run for cover' in Biscay and is now holed up on the Isle De Yeu just below Camaret after hitting 45kn winds and huge seas in the bay. Looks like we timed it perfectly and got very lucky with the weather for our crossing.
My 'neighbour' Jack, who is moored next to me, completed the same route as us across Biscay is a frequent writer for Yachting Monthly and wants 'my story' about selling up and setting sail ... watch this space!
Congratz to Kat for completing her ISAF courses - Ocean Safety, Sea Survival and Ocean First Aid. Lots of good advice for the 'big one' later in the year!
Kat has now booked a flight to Madeira for the 28th October, so this means the new plan is to forget going into the Med as time will be to short. Instead, the current thinking is to complete Portugal via a couple of stops, maybe Porto (~200nm) and Lisbon (~200nm), then on to Madeira (~500nm).
Sorry Stu looks like I wont be hooking up in Cannes after all.
Also Prav - likewise, sorry - the delays in N. France mean there is no way for me to get down south fast enough to see you. Looks like you both will have to come and see me in the Carribean?!?!?
Since arriving here, the weather has been terrible with rain and strong winds. Looks like the UK South Coast has had it bad as well. When the weather settles we will be making a move. It seems as if every place we arrive there is one sunny day before the storm clouds catch up with us!
Oh ... here is a clip of the Biscay Dolphins. I coudn't get it to upload from the dive of a CyberCafe I had to resort to previously.

And an example of Heidi doing her thing early on a Biscay morning... Not very exciting I know, but it gives you an idea of what the sailing was like across Biscay I guess.

Jobs that have been 'completed' since being here:

New bulbs for the Navigation lights - purchased a short while ago, not fitted yet.

Portugese courtesy flag purchased in preparation for the journey to come.

While giving 'my story' to Jack, the water pump fired up and water started leaking into the heads (bathroom to you land lubbers). Luckily, the burst hose was long enough to 'cut N shut' it. I have purchased a new length of hose to keep onboard, just incase.

Another yacht is having a nightmare with breakages and repairs. Luckily for me, some Spanish bloke who works for Selden Rigging was coming to see him in the marina, so I 'borrowed' him to get an opinion on my own rigging tension. Verdict, it's fine for 'normal' sailing. I may decide to just give the shrouds a little tighten just incase of stronger winds - better too tight than too loose - amen to that vicar!

It was rather amusing to watch as he didn't speak a word of English, so he called up a woman to translate via mobile phone. Somewhere along the line he wanted us to sail 2 hours around the coast to where they are based but for what I have no idea? - Neither did the woman on the phone!

The Selden guy did mention fixing my broken Genoa Pole but then it all got lost in translation, I decided not to pursue this topic!

I will also need some new mooring ropes soon as two have worn through due to the wind and swell in this marina, for now I'm being a sea Pikey and 'making do', but they are getting a bit short!

I fixed the 12v internal supply to allow me to have the Satphone turned on all the time so you folks can send me SMS messages from the Iridium website.

Nothing else to report at the moment but I will try and sample the surfing here and hopefully see the sun before we leave.

Thursday, 28 August 2008

Biscay Boshed!

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!
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.
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.

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.

Monday, 25 August 2008

Visiting Parents in Brittany

On Sunday my parents came over to Camaret to finally see Doris (and us I guess) and pick us up.
I managed to get my Mum aboard using a step ladder! Daz and I then went to my parents house in South Brittany, leaving Doris in Camaret for a few days - on the visitors pontoon - unattended - which I'm more than slightly worried about!
This will probably be the last time I see my parents for a while at least, assuming I carry on as planned and it was good to see my Dad looking a lot better having literally just come out of hospital the day before.
We have been enjoying real home cooked food (eating way too much) and watching lots of tv and getting everything washed. I also finally shaved Daz's head grade1 stylee as his afro was simply getting to big for both of us to be in the cockpit at the same time!
It looks like a huge High Pressure system (Azores High) is making a Biscay crossing very possible next week. All you guys in the UK should start seeing good weather around next Friday (maybe earlier) I'm guessing, so time to get those boats out!
I think we will get back to the boat on Thursday and then maybe set sail Friday depending on the forecasts etc.
Anyways ... I just thought I'd keep you all updated with where we are and what we are doing etc .. incase anyone was wondering. Not too much else to report I'm afraid.

Friday, 22 August 2008

St. Quay Portieux to Camaret - Take2

Friday 22nd August 2008
We woke up around 10am and quickly made the decision to try again that same evening. The forecast we had been promised yesterday was evidently 24hrs late! I rechecked all the forecasts and the sea states from the surfing websites and all said that the weather window was going to be ‘open’ to make this lengthy 150 nm (for a coastal trip) leg of the journey.

We purchased some supplies and went back to bed until 5pm. 9pm (French time) saw us heading back out to sea with no wind at all. The motor was required for the first 4hrs until we reached the more exposed coastline. With the sea state being a lot better than the previous attempt things looked promising.

That is until, just after Daz had gone below for a sleep. I watched as the wind rose steadily from around 10knots to 20 knots in mere minutes, then, with gusts of over 25 knots and heavy rain we were like a runaway train. Quickly, reducing sail we got things back under control as the wind reduced slightly but remained at around 17 knots.

With some moonlight shining through the now reduced cloud I could see the huge evil black ‘thing’ we had just passed through. Squalls happen very fast at night and with little warning, as a result our speed of reefing sails is getting to the point of being ‘polished’.

Single line reefing is a ‘Godsend’, no matter what Cunliff says but I am starting to see the pitfalls of having to go on deck to use the third reef in a rough sea, thankfully things haven’t got bad enough to require it – yet!

We sailed on throughout the night tacking our way along the coastline until we got to ‘Les Sept Isles’ where the sea started to build. Eventually, I could not gain any ground on the seaward tack due to the wind and sea state and the motor was turned on.

Then it started…

At almost the same spot we had aborted the previous attempt (closer inland), the seas started to get very steep and ‘confused’. Huge walls of water with a wave length smaller than the boat started hitting us. Small cycles started that involved going down a very steep wave – when I say steep, I mean actually looking downward towards the bow of the boat! – before being accelerated vertically up the next wave face almost immediately resulting in the entire 35ft boat being air born before every muscle in my body tensed waiting for the inevitable ‘slam’.

This was the most scared I had been so far. Not for fear of dying or anything like that but for losing the mast or doing structural damage to Doris. After a while I started to learn that as long as I carried the very small amount of speed (less than 2knots), even the large very scary looking walls of water were easily handled by taking them at about 45 degrees. The ride itself was still quite scary but without any slamming. The only way to describe it is, imagine a really smooth roller coaster ride in a skate park!

By now it was just starting to get light and with a ‘Lee Shore’ I started to get a little worried about progress and drift. By maintaining a very slow speed I was essentially sailing ‘on the spot’. All in all I think we lost between 4-6 hours of any forward momentum, again I’m guessing due to tides causing the sea state. The seas started to go down and slowly we started to make progress.

Slowly throughout the day the sea got calmer and the winds reduced resulting in a superb sail along the coast.

Later in the afternoon we thought it was time that the Hydrovane earned its keep.
What can I say, Superb! Even initial trials and me not really knowing its intricacies it helmed and held a course better than either of us. It also reduced any tendency to slam off wave tops.

We rounded Ushant between 2200 and 2300 UTC as I had been reluctant to attempt the ‘Chenal Du Four’ for the first time in the dark, despite the tide times being ‘doable’.

Just passed Ushant, the wind died completely and on went the motor. Daz took over the helm to allow me get some sleep. I helmed the final approaches until entering the ‘Rade De Brest’ where I had to call Daz from sleeping below to give a second opinion on what I was seeing.

Studying the maps etc I had a mental picture of what I was expecting to see in front of me. However, what was supposed to be a huge open bay appeared to be a small bay with rocky outcrops running through it. The GPS was telling me to steer 94 degrees for over 4nm straight through what looked like a 10ft high rocky wall!

Out came the laptop, squinting through binoculars we simply could not match up the maps with reality. I continued to slowly edge forward with on eye fixed on the depth gauge. Nothing made any sense, my depth was over 35m and yet I could clearly see rocks ahead.

Very slowly, the ‘walls’ got bigger until I realised what I was looking at were cliffs! The bay was indeed massive but a combination of being at sea for ‘two days’ with very little sleep and the low dawn light had completely thrown me.

The approach into Cameret was lovely and the size of the Rade De Brest (witht the walls being cliffs) meant that a relaxed approach could be taken. With the sun rising, Daz got the lines and fenders sorted and we removed the Hydrovane rudder.

By now we were both a little worse for wear with Daz's lips taking the brunt of the conditions we had weathered!

After taking a quick ‘drive by’ look at our available berth and a few turns made in confined room with more than a few spectators, the mooring went smoothly (I was actually quite impressed myself) and we were tied up by 0700 UTC.

We had made it! This stretch of coastline has been a nightmare and from this point on (Touch Wood), we should start getting improved weather.

I hosed down Doris as she was a bit of a state and we walked into town to get some bread etc. I could barely walk straight and felt drunk, with my legs being very wobbly. If this is an indication of things to come, I am going to suffer ‘Land Sickness’ on longer trips.

It’s amazing the safe and cozy feeling that washes over you when you finally pull that duvet up with a sigh of relief and close your eyes …. ‘Fade To Black’.

Thursday, 21 August 2008

St. Quay Portieux to Camaret - Take1

Thursday 21st August 2008
We slipped the lines at Thursday morning around 06:00 and made our way to the fuel pontoon to fill up. All went smoothly without any problems (except me getting splashed with diesel – damn that breather in the cockpit!) and an hour later saw us heading out with smooth seas and wind around F3.

We actually started to struggle for wind and christened the new Genoa pole.

After around 2 hours we reached the beginning of the exposed coastline and the waves were starting to appear as long rolling swell, much bigger than I have ever seen in the Channel around Brighton. As they were rolling they were large but easy enough to sail over. It is quite an experience actually sailing up the face of a wave!

Slowly, the wind started to fill in from the West, exactly the direction from which we needed to go (again!). An hour later saw us under mainsail and reefed Genoa with wind building to F4/F5 with the waves steadily growing to around 3m, we were now about 6nm off course (out to sea) due to the direction of the wind. While conditions were a little scary to start with (inexperience showing), we were in no danger, accept of being uncomfortable and not actually enjoying the sail.

The conditions meant that the boat speed had to be minimised to prevent actually shooting off the top of the waves which resulted in very loud and scary ‘slams’ that juddered throughout the entire boat. My biggest worry was of losing the mast, again with the Steve (The Rigging Guy’s) words repeating in my head – ‘The Rig looks a bit loose’. I had to manually helm the boat to avoid the waves and this was very tiring concentrating for hours on end. The steep seas were a result (I’m guessing) of the westerly wind against the strong west going French tide, a classic dangerous scenario.

We continued for another 40nm before making the reluctant decision (after 2 hrs of discussions) to turn back. One of the problems with this stretch of coast is that there are no 24hr ‘Port of Refuges’ between St. Quay Portrieux and L’Aber Wbrach (only approx 20nm short of Camaret our intended destination) and what harbours there are, are drying and not accessible during all states of the tide and a nightmare to navigate to in the dark being surrounded by rocks etc. While, we were not in danger I felt that I wouldn’t be able to sustain 24 hours of helming especially in the dark, in addition I had not been able to leave the helm to go to the toilet and eat etc.. The boat was more capable than its crew.

The journey home was equally as uncomfortable as the waves were now from directly behind but at least the boat was no longer ‘slamming’.
We were regularly surfing over 10 knots down (see top left on pic below) the wave faces with the highest speed being seen at over 13 knots!

Again manual helming was required and by now I was quite tired and it was just starting to get dark. For some reason in the pics and video the sea state looks calm and the waves look tiny - Yeah right! You had to be there!

Eventually we got back around the headland where the waves subsided and the motor went on. I also had the chance to get some Corned Beef Curry down my neck and hand over the helm to Daz for a while. Somewhere along the way we lost the portside nav-light, so I continued to motor using the tricolour instead. I know this is against the ColRegs but I thought it better to be seen from all sides as a sailing vessel than not be seen at all as a vessel under motor from the portside. Of course any real skipper would have spare emergency nav-lights.

We finally got back to St. Quay Portrieux at around 5am only to find it completely full, with our only option to moor ‘alongside’ a massive yacht in the main marina entrance. Finally tied up we crashed, however, it was very difficult to sleep with the wash from the boats (including the fishing boats) coming and going directly past us.

In conclusion, we had just clocked up over 100nm and not got any further forward, mainly due to the weather forecast being wrong, although to be fair, at no point did we have overly strongwinds, just a horrible sea state. I did however learn a lot about rough weather sailing. The only way to get comfortable with and learn how to cope with and handle heavy weather is to get out there and witness it, preferably in someone else’s boat!

Another point is that all the books teach you about ‘Heaving to’ and using ‘Storm Tactics’ but these do not apply when you simply do not have the sea room or time to simply sit and wait for conditions to improve such as when coastal sailing. The northern French coast has tides that run like trains and it becomes priority to simply ‘get somewhere’.