A dirty bottom, an Autumn sail and a problem in common with the GGR race leader

Family Commitments of one sort or another have rather curtailed sailing activities this year after my summer cruise to Scilly.

The first opportunity I had to get down to the boat for a couple of days was in mid October and given I had last been on board in late August I suspected her bottom may be in need of a clean and so I booked the club scrubbing dock for the 12th/13th October and went down to do battle with slime and weed.

What I found was even worse than I expected and given I had only applied new Copper Coat in April, I was rather taken aback by what I found. There must have been a coating of weed and sludge almost a quarter of an inch thick over the entire bottom of the boat. My pressure washer was just about up to the job of getting rid of that but hidden amongst the weed was the most extensive growth of barnacles I had come across for many years. Persistent and close quarter action with the pressure washer got rid of most but I had to go round with a scraper to remove the worst offenders, I was a bit concerned about the risk of damaging the Copper Coat but thankfully that did not appear to happen. Once I had cleared them all I then went round the whole bottom with a scrubbing brush and then the pressure washer again, to remove the last vestiges of slime. Finally, I went round the whole bottom one more time with very fine grade sandpaper in order to expose the copper. 

Strangely the rudder had the worst weed and the worst barnacles. I was however relieved to find that the repair I had made to a hole in the rudder back in the spring had held. The propeller had barnacles as well but it did not seem any worse than in previous years with Arctic Smoke when I had applied Prop Shield. I've therefore concluded that is not worth expense.

Some days later I mentioned my experience to Howard who also has Copper Coat on his boat which is moored in Gillingham Marina and he told me that he too had experienced very significant fouling this year. Given that he also uses a sonic antifouling system, I was re-assured that the extensive fouling was not caused by some inadequacy with Bonny's new and very expensive Copper Coat. I previously had to remove a type of copper coat  from Arctic Smoke when it proved ineffective and that was an experience I did not want to repeat. I assume the combination of a very hot summer and the pea-soup-like waters of the Medway were the cause of the virulent marine growth this year. Howard also said that the fouling on his rudders (he has 2) was significantly worse than on the rest of the boat. He had concluded that it was because the sonic system did not cover the rudders, but now we wonder whether there is some other explanation!  

Anyway, now I could look forward to a late season sail with a clean bottom! Originally, Howard and I had a week's sailing planned but an operation on his foot put him out of action and family and social commitments ate away at the time available for a solo sail. I ended up with 5 days instead of seven and the state of the tides meant that I could only get on to the boat late in the afternoon on the first day. It was also wet and so I decided to stay put that first night. The following day by mid afternoon, things improved sufficiently to make a short sail down the river to Stangate Creek worthwhile. We were lucky and only got caught by one brief shower during an otherwise very pleasant sail. Friday afternoon and night were therefore spent at Anchor in an otherwise deserted Stangate Creek. The wind was quite fresh over night but by the morning had moderated to the predicted South Easterly, Force 3 to 4 - ideal for the short passage to the Colne and Pyfleet. 

I got the anchor up at 0845 and we set off punching the last hour or so of the neap flood tide. A very pleasant sail up the coast in the unusually warm Autumn sunshine followed. All was well until a few hours later, about halfway between the Whittaker and Swin Spitway buoys, the mainsail suddenly lowered itself. I went up to investigate and found the halyard was no longer attached to the head of the sail and was also nowhere to be seen! On parting company with the sail it had disappeared down the inside of the mast. On pulling it through I found out why. The thread used to make and the eye that attached it to the sail head head had rotted and finally parted. The eye broke open, the sail fell down and the halyard pulled through the sheave at the top of the top of the mast and fell down into it!

I continued on under Genoa alone and a couple of hours later, anchored in the Pyfleet next to the ex fishing ketch - Pioneer. The wind had freshened by this point and given the forecast for lighter winds the next day, I had no difficulty in putting off the inevitable trip up the mast to try and put matters right.

After breakfast the following morning I climbed the mast using the clever mast climbing kit I had bought from the USA some years back. I took up a real of whipping twine, a couple of nuts to act as weights, a knife and the halyard. The plan being to send the whipping twine down the mast and to then pull the halyard through. Of course I could not get the nut through the sheave and all attempts at poking the halyard through it and down the mast failed. The spare external block that I had spotted from the deck, that I was going to use as a temporary fix in just these circumstances, turned out to be broken! So I had to go back down the mast, pinch a block from the mainsail preventer system and return up the mast to install that. Eventually, I got back to the deck for the second time with the halyard re-installed,  albeit temporarily.

Anyone following the Golden Globe Race, may have noticed that the race leader (during the period I am writing about at least) Simon Curwen sailing a Biscay 36, experienced a near identical problem but with his Genoa halyard. He also attempted to re-reeve it but also without success. Admittedly, he was probably in far worse conditions than me, but it is nevertheless re-assuring that my failure to fix the problem is a failure shared with such an notable sailor! 

Back at home searching on-line I came across the suggestion of using a length of Bicycle chain to get a messenger line over the masthead sheave and to act as a weight to get it down the inside of the mast and an extendable magnet to catch it at the bottom sheave. I've ordered both and will try it out on the next opportunity - which may not be until the Spring. A warm windless day is best for such a performance!

I had to get home for Sunday evening to take Sharon to the Dentist on the Monday and plan A had been to leave in the early hours of Sunday morning on the last couple of hours of the ebb. Sunday's weather was looking decidedly unpleasant however, so I decided to leave later that afternoon which would mean crossing the Thames in the dark and an arrival at Hoo at around 2200. The option of a lie-in on Sunday was also rather appealing!

So I got the anchor up at around 1330 with three hours of the ebb left to go and headed out to sea. Initially we had a southerly breeze that required two tacks to cross the Spitway it then veered towards the south east which required another two tacks in the late afternoon to get through the Swin channel. Bonny seemed to be sailing particularly well which was very pleasing - possibly because I finally managed to adjust the genoa leach line properly (it is though on the verge of breaking). We were often making 6-7 knots through the water hard on the wind. The sea was very flat but nevertheless it was a pretty good performance. Bonny also steered herself which was very satisfying.

We had to dodge a couple of ships around Sea Reach - one entering the Thames and one leaving, but apart from that it was an easy crossing of the estuary. The wind died just before Garrison Point and so I motored the next 5 miles or so to Hoo and picked up the mooring at 2210. Just as I did so, it started to rain!

I hope to get some more sailing in before the weather gets too dismissal and then the Spring will be busy with preparations for my hoped for extended cruise to start in the summer.    

Scilly to Hoo via Plymouth and St Helen's, Bembridge 18 - 24 August

On a grey drizzly Thursday (21/8/22) morning, I got the anchor up and at about half flood tide we motor sailed slowly down Helen’s Pool and then across the shallows towards the “Hats” Cardinal bouy off the norhern tip of St Mary’s and at the juncture of the shallows and deep water. The boisterous conditions of the two previous days had gone, but the weather had certainly changed from the gorgeous conditions of the previous week. Now as the islands gradually receded into the distance, the grey cloud that shrouded them, made them as foreboding as I imagined they looked to those ship wrecked sailors of days gone past, just before their once stout ships were mangled on the numerous hungry rocks that litter the coast.

I experienced only a minor drama as I took my departure. A small Norwegian cruise ship was anchored near the “Hat” and told me off for sailing too close as I went by! 

Personally I thought he should have anchored further from the bouy but I apologised as pleasantly as I could and continued on my way.

The remainder of the passage to Plymouth was downhill sailing all the way with the wind behind us. Just before dusk and after we had crossed the Traffic Separation Scheme, the wind increased, making it difficult for the autohelm to hold a good course as the boat veered first towards the wind and then paid off away from it, so much so that the boomed out genoa would back and then fill violently with a loud 'crack' that should the whole rig. Reluctantly I got out on deck and put a reef in and then an hour later, another! 

During the night we had to make a couple of diversions to avoid fishing boats but otherwise it really was plain sailing, albeit at a pretty good lick. We entered Cawsand Bay on the western side of Plymouth Sound at 0310 on Friday morning and dropped the anchor at 0330, then I got the boat tidied up and went to bed at about 0430.

Cawsand is an attractive looking seaside town on the outsirts of Plymouth with Sandy beaches, and most importantly, from a sailor's persepcetive, a good anchorage sheltered from the prevailing westerly winds. I have anchored there a number of times and on every occasion tell myself I should really get ashore and explore. The trouble is my stops there are almost by defination, staging ones on the way to other places and the thought of launching the dinghy and recovering it again later during an all too brief stop is too much for my lazy nature to overcome. I was running low on fresh stores but even that incentive was not enough and so once again, Cawsand went unexplored.

I got up late on Friday and as you can see did a spot of washing - I had run out of anything resembling a clean pair of underpants but had anticipated use of a washing machine which had not happend. After doing the washing I enjoyed a late cooked breakfast and then considered my schedule and the weather forecast for the next few days. My friend George who keeps his lovely wooden sailing boat on the Cattwater in Plymouth was due back from his cruise to the Channel Islands on Sunday morning and I had very much hoped we could meet up. I would also have liked to have met up with my old school pal and ex submariner, Neal, who lived in Plymouth. However, a combination of domestic considerations and the unfolding weather system over the next few days, made an early departure necessary. Three more days of more or less consistent westerlies were forecast before things became more uncertain and as all sailors know, "tide, time and weather waits for no one". A Saturday morning departure should enable me to take full advantage of these winds, whereas I risked losing them if I left it another 24 hours. So my decision was made. I'd slob out for the rest of the day and leave in the morning. I spoke to Sharon and arranged for her to pick me up from Hoo on Thursday. My pal Tony also offered to help ferry me and my gear from boat to shore using the club launch. I was particularly grateful for the offer because I wasn't that confident that my tatty fibreglass dinghy would still still be afloat on the mooring!

So just after 0900 on Saturday I got the anchor up, motored out of the lee of the shore and sailed, slowly at first, out of Plymouth Sound. By 1600 Start Point was astern. We had been sailng goosewinged since leaving Plymouth.

By 1800 the wind had freshened requiring two reefs to quieten the boat down once again and to keep a reasonably steady course under the control of the autohelm.

From time to time slight changes in wind direction and/or course changes required a change of sail plan. This just required setting the genoa to leeward and leaving the pole out ready for the next change back to goosewinged configuration. 

I had anticipated a fair amount of down wind sailing on the way back and had rigged a pair of semi permanent boom preventers to protect against accidental gybes, caused when unintentionally, one allows the wind to get behind the mainsail which sends it chrashing across the boat. This can be dangerous to gear and limb and even life and so needs to be avoided wherever possible. On our trip back from the Algarve last year we did a fair bit of down wind sailing too and I had a single preventer rigged on whichever side of the boat the boom was on, as required. But I had crew then and more things could be done at the same time and more quickly. On one's own, during the time it takes to move the preventer across the boat, one could easilly experience an accidental gybe.  So I was determined to have two always rigged and ready to be tightened up to prevent the boom from chrashing over. 

The preventer line runs from the end of the boom through a block (pulley) at the front of the boat and back down to the cockpit through other blocks. I had bought the line required before leaving Hoo and made them up in Port Cressa after Bast and Joe caught the Ferry to Penzance. It took ages to figure out the right leads for the lines so that they didn't tangle up or chafe on other lines  and/or rigging. In fact chafe was impossible to avoid in some cases and so protecting the lines from rubbing on wire rigging and guard rails was required. Luckilly, I had some spare plastic pipe which I made do with. A better long term solution is required however. 

Once I started using them in earnest I had to re-run my carefully arranged lines which behaved quite differently at sea as they interacted with genoa sheets and other running rigging. They did the job well and also stopped the boom chrashing about in sloppy seas. They did give rise to a plethora of string criss crossing the decks, causing additional trip hazards - especially when the spinnaker boom was rigged, but the benefits were worth it. They also swallowed up my collection of spare blocks which are bloody expensive. Even now I could really do with another two blocks for each line to ensure a snag free run along the deck. Ideally I could also do with another two (self tailing) winches. Currently the existing winches and cleats have to be used for more than one purpose. Not a great situation.

We gave Portland Bill a wide berth of around 7 miles just after 0100 on Sunday morning and set a course for St Cartherine's Point on the south coast of the Isle of Wight. I had hoped to make a stop in Poole to visit my old friend Badg but the westerlies were now forecast to back into the south east later in the day and I did not want to be held up by them and/or to beat into them, so on we went. We past Anvil Point 9 miles to the north at 0740 and at 0800 I shook out the reefs.

Then for a few hours I made use of the cruising chute alongside the poled out genoa.

[My typing of this post was interupted by what turned out to be a completely fruitless search for a most annoying tapping sound that manifests itself when the boat is rolling downwind. It appears to be coming from the vacinity of the starboard berth/bottom of the chart table, but for the life of me I cannot find it. It sounds like the sort of noise something rolling back and forwards would make, or a weight swinging on a line and hitting something else and bouncing! I’ve opened all the draws and cupboards in the vacinity but the culprit has remained hidden. Of course whenever I investigate closely, it stops only to start up again when I give up. It also seems to move around. I can feel the vibration it makes with my fingers but that hasn’t helped me find it. It really is the most bizare thing! It continues to drive me nuts!]

Over that night I had plently of opportunity during my 20 minute cat-naps on the starboard bunk, to analyse that bloody noise further. I concluded that it was not a rattle but creaking woodwork. I am now 99% convinced, that somewhere, when conditions are just right, two surfaces that are not completely fixed together, move, one against the other and create the noise. Surprisingly, I managed to adjust to it and got some sleep during my 20 minute periods off watch.

As we drew abeam of St Catherine’s point on Sunday morning, I started contemplating where I would stop for a break. I reckoned we could make the eastern Solent before the winds changed and finally decided that an over night stop to the north of St Helen’s Fort, off Bembridge would work well. 

I dropped anchor at 1745 and spent a pleasant hour or so in the cockpit in the late afternoon sun with a glass of white wine and spoke to Sharon on the phone. Then I cooked supper. Fresh supplies were almost all gone and so with my last two potatoes and half an onion, added to my last tin of corned beef, I made a sort of corned beef hash - more a stew.

Then an early night. The forecast was right and the night was a very still. My plan was to move on around midday on Monday when both the tides and wind should be favourable.

The forecast was for southerlies/south westeries to kick in around 1300 on Monday after the south easterlies. Conveniently this would coincide with the start of a favourable tide and so it proved. So I got the anchor up and headed east for the Looe channel, a narrow gap between sand banks at the eastern end of the Solent. Ted Heath lost one of his Morning Clouds there in the 1970s - of course they did not have the luxury of electronic navigational aids in those days. On my Dad's boats all we had was a chip log, a log line and a compass. Later Dad bought an RDF set (radio direction finder) but none of us could understand the bloody thing. We passed through the Looe Channel at 1500 and with the return of some easterly component to the wind set of for the north west corner of the Rampion wind farm with the plan to sail along its northern perimiter. 

The wind died to a near calm during the evening and we didn't reach the north eastern corner of the wind farm until about 2130 when a course was laid for Beachy Head. Soon after the wind filled in a little. It had gone round to the south west some hours before and with a bit more of an angle on the wind we picked up the pace a little. By 0225 Beachy Head was directly north at a distance of about 2 miles. By 0920 we were well past Dungeness..

... where we were overtaken by a Dutchman under spinnaker..

By this stage the sailing was very pleasant in the warming morning sun.

Just after midday we past the Port of Dover two miles to the North and then shortly afterwards the famous white cliffs..

The wind had now picked up considerably and we were going like the clappers with the wind behind and the sails goosewinged. We really had too much sail up and I just had enough time to scoff a quick lunch of toast and pate before I had to take over the helm as we surfed down the moderate waves at 7+ knots over the ground against a foul tide. I'd calculated that if we held these these sorts of speeds we were in with in with a shout of carrying the flood tide up the Medway and making our mooring before midnight.

On rounding North Foreland we switched from surfing down waves to exciting close hauled sailing as we weeved our way through the various sandbanks. With a rising tide we could afford to take some short cuts but I never saw less than 2 metres on the echo sounder. We reached Garrison Point, the entrance to the Medway at 2020 just as dusk was falling. Our mooring now lay some 10 miles directly up wind and up the river in the dark. I decided that honour had been satisfied when it came to sailing, with the engine only used when anchoring since our departure from Scilly. So on it went and we motored the rest of the way up the river to Hoo and picked up the mooring at 2215. Mind you that was touch and go because the mooring lines attached to the bouy had become hopeless tangled and were unusable. I managed to tie the line on the rising bouy to the base of a stanchion and then quickly attached a temporary mooring line by clambering into the dinghy which had not afterall, sunk!

So ended Bonny's 2022 summer cruise.

What will next year have in store? Will my ambituous plans to start a circumnavigation be remotely possible, given the current economic crisis and its affect on our finances?

  

Scilly to St Helen's, Bembridge via Plymouth - short version.

This is very short version because Google docs is refusing to let me copy my full text onto 'Blogger', which I have stopped using for drafting purposes, because it keeps chrashing and so loses all unsaved content!

Anyway, we left Scilly on a grey Thursday morning...

and sailed downwind to Plymouth arriving at Cawsand Bay at 0300 on Friday. 

I spent the rest of the day there and that night and set sail on Saturday morning. 

Used a slightly unconventional sail plan for a few hours on Sunday morning..

Arrived St Helen's, Bembridge, Isle of Wight on Sunday evening and after passing close to the Lifeboat station, anchored north of the Fort to sit out the coming light calms and south easterlies. 

Plan is to leave here around 1300 on Monday when the tide will be favourable and hopefully the wind too 

Tresco - a pricey slice of botanical paradise!

I spent two nights at Anchor in St Helen's Pool and on Wednesday afternoon, with the worst of the blow having peaked, I took the dingy over to Old Grimsby on Tresco.

(From "Isles of Scilly" by Graham Adam, published by Imray 2010)

Everything is certainly very neat and tidy - but for my taste, rather too neat and tidy. It's also very expensive. A loaf of bread, two pints of milk and two small chocolate bars cost me £7.50. I could not bring myself to buy anything else. 

However, there is no doubt that the reputation of the Abbey Gardens, first laid down by Augustus Smith 1834, is well deserved. My visit was a little late in the year to see the gardens at the very best but nevertheless they were quite beautiful.

The gardens include a museum of Ships' figureheads recovered from the numerous wrecks of sailing ships that have met their ends in the treacherous waters of Scilly over the years..

These days, electronic navigational aids mean that even those with only modest navigational capabilities like myself, can explore the archipelago in relative safety.

Mind you, the weather can still wreak havoc on those caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. Last year Calico Jack (see previous post) was caught in a major storm. They put two anchors down in a well protected anchorage and held firm whilst chaos erupted around them and throughout the islands. 

A nearby yacht dragged its anchor and impaled itself on Calico's bowsprit. Then, whilst attempting to get clear it collided with Calico's stern and wrecked the self steering gear. In St Helen's Pool, numerous yachts dragged and were wrecked on rocks. The lifeboat could not get to them because the state of the tide meant that access from the south across the sandbanks was impossible and the northern channels were untenable even for the Lifeboat.

After my tour of the Abbey gardens I walked back to Old Grimsby via New Grimsby where I encountered the shop!

Back at Old Grimsby I still had time to kill waiting for the tide to float the dinghy..

and so visited the Church...

and the Old Block House

So ended my short spell on Tresco.

Back at the boat I prepared for departing Scilly the next day by getting the dinghy on deck and lashed down and by moving a few hundred metres down the pool away from the nearby rocks, which come the morning, with a change in wind direction forecast, would become an uncomfortably close lee shore.

St Martin's, Tean, Aground, on to St Helen's Pool, a dragging anchor and more new friends

This was the view from the 'summit' of St Martin's yesterday, Monday 15th August. 'Summit' because the islands are low lying and even their highest slopes are only pretty modest hills. St Martin's stands all of 40 metres high! I took the dinghy ashore to the beach near the hotel at "Lower Town" - no more than a collection of pretty cottages around the Hotel.

I rigged my dinghy anchor/recovery system as before but this time with an extra long line in the loop between the weight and the anchor, However, the gently shelving beach required very long loops to get above the high tide mark as can be seen from the above photo. At just after low water, mine only made it half way up the beach and that was with an additional line connecting it to the anchor. I calculated that I would need to be back within about 3 hours if I was to avoid an enforced swim to find the anchor.

The island's about 5 miles long, so I wouldn't be able to cover all of it but I set out uphill with the objective of getting some good views. The first point of interest was the Seven Stones Pub after only a few minutes walk. This pretty lane runs up to the pub

I resisted the temptation of an early break and instead continued onwards and was soon in Tolkien land...

This path wound its way up through the woods for a few hundred yards before I emerged onto the heathland that seemed to cover most of the island...

This view is looking south east and this one ....

a little further south towards St Mary's behind the cruise ship. This one...

... is to the north west.

After leaving the sumit from which I took the photos, I walked south east along the footpaths towards Higher Town just over a mile away.

The school (it must be one of the smallest in the country given the permanent population of the island is only 120) lies down a track just outside the 'town'. The only visible indication of it from the small road being this....

Rather charming I thought. I bought a few little gifts for the girls (granddaughters).

Next came the church ....

Followed by the shop/Post Office....

At this point I was in need of some refreshment having forgone lunch and so I consulted Google Maps. To my satisfaction there was a Tea Room only a little further on and so I headed there...

The standard portion included one scone only and so I 'had' to order a double. There was JUST enough jam and cream to supply both scones. It seems that portion cotrol has even reached this little corner of the UK! Still it was most pleasant - a close second to the cream tea that Basty, Joe and I had on St Agnes last week!

The Tea Room had lovely gardens as you can see and also a glass house with an impressive looking grape vine....

After stuffing myself I made my way back to Lower Town and the Dinghy along the southern coastal path. 

On the inland side of the path were a number of little flower/vegable gardens cust into the sandy soil and coverd with netting...

On the south side of the path there were yet more views of stunning almost empty beaches like these...

Some boats had come prepared for beach paradise and had fitted legs so they could dry out on the beach, although in the photo below, the tide has risen and so they are once again in water...

Back at the beach where I had left the dinghy, I could see Bonny was still safely at anchor where I had left her..

The dinghy anchor however, was about to be covered by the rising tide and so I quickly waded in and pulled the dinghy in to the shore. Then I repositioned the ground tackle to take account of the still rising tide and went off in search of Middle Town. This was it....

When I turned round to head back I came across a couple of locals who seemed pretty content with life...

And then some more exotic plants...

There was still plenty of daylight left so I took the dinghy over to Tean - all of quarter of a mile across Tean Sound. This photo is looking from it's north western end towards the south east....

And this is looking south towards St Mary's...

Bonny's out of shot to the left of the boat in the picture.

It was a bit late in the summer to see the wild flowers at their best, but a few isolated specimens remained of what were clearly once abundant, if small, blooms ...

Tean is now uninhabited but at some point in the not too distant past it clearly had at least a few inhabitants...

Most of the rocks and stones in Scilly are covered in this strange crispy dry stringy moss.

That night a change of wind from the north conspired to push Bonny across the narrow cut in which we were nchored and in the early hours of the morning around low tide we went aground for a couple of hours. It also rained most of the night, an event I was so unused to that I left the cockpit cushions out which of course got thoroughly soaked. With stronger winds due from the north on Tuesday, I moved Bonny the few hundred metres round the coirner to St Helen's Pool. It was more exposed but there was more room in the event of the anchor dragging. 

I had a couple of attractive neighbours....

As the day developd the forecasted strong winds from the north did indeed develop. Before they becme too unruly I was visited by Peter and Bonnie from "Calico Jack" anchored a hundred metres or so behind Bonny and named after the Pirate of the same name...

She is a lovely wooden ship maintained to a high standard by both Peter and Bonnie. It turns out they had conversed with me briefly in Falmouth a couple of weeks ago when they spotted Bonny's old Hydrovane - they have one too. Peter very kindly offered to send me drawings and dimensions of his rudder which he is in the process of repairing.

Later in the afternoon, with the wind now blowing Force 6 from the north, I just happened to glance out from the cockpit and noticed that something had changed in the scene behind me. It took me a while to figure out what it was - my nearest neighbour was dragging her anchor and bearing down on Calico Jack and another boat. I had seen the crew go ashore earlier and so knew that there was no one on board. A collision with one or other of the other boats seemed pretty likely and/or the boat was in danger of ending up on the rocks beyond them both. Peter had clearly noticed and was on deck monitoring the situation. Earlier he had joked that he hoped the boat had it's insurance in good order. Only last year when in Scilly in a serious storm, another boat had dragged and impaled itself on his Bowsprit and then, in an attempt to disentangle itself, had collided with Calico's stern and damaged the Hydrovane!

I quickly grabbed a life-jacket, got into the dinghy and motored over to the dragging boat and let out a few more metres of chain which seemed to halt it's progress. I then went over to Calico for a quick conflab with Peter. He pointed out that the other boat was directly down wind of the dragger and suggested I go and warn him just in case. I did that and then headed over to St Helen's, where I had seen the crew land. I could see them exploring some ruins but they semed totally unaware that anything was amiss. Nearer the shore I managed to gain their attention and two of them quikly lauched their dinghy and got on board and then re anchored the boat.

I went back to Calico for a quick chat and was invited on board. After I had admired their fine ship, we spent the afternoon chatting and swapping stories. They were clearly very experienced sailors and and have covered a lot of miles including to the Carribean and the Med! Calico is moored in Wooton Creek on the Isle of Wight, which just happened to be one of my late Dad's favourite sailing destinations.

Back on Bonny I cooked dinner, wrote up this post and monitored the weather and the boat's position. With the approach of high tide the waves and swell were breakig through through the protective barrier of rocks to our north and the boat's motion was getting rather bouncy!