The Dash to Plymouth

My objective was to get Bonny down to the West Country in time to get a train back to London before the rail strike scheduled for Wednesday 27th July and this in turn was because there was a big family gathering to attend in Norfolk the following weekend. After much indecision, my sailing objective for 2022, was Dingle on the west coast of Ireland, from where I hoped to explore some of my Mum’s family roots. As a bonus I might be able to meet up with an old sailing friend who is also in Dingle. My fall-back destination is the Isles of Scilly. 

Time was tight. I had to be back home in early September to fly to Jamaica with Sharon on 9th September to celebrate our 35th wedding anniversary on 12th September! I therefore plan to return to the boat next Monday. To complicate matters further there are a number of old friends currently in the West Country I hope to catch up with.

This was not the passage I had intended to take however. 

Back in the innocent days of winter/spring 2021/22 before Putin launched his crazy and hideous war on Ukraine and before the current global economic melt-down, my planning day dreams ranged from a circumnavigation (Mick has signed up, but whether he thinks it will ever happen, I'm not quite sure); through cruising Iceland & Greenland; to perhaps just the West Coast of Scotland if all else failed!

Then the only blips on my long range radar were the possible resurgence of Covid and whether I really could bugger off for a few years and leave Sharon behind to visit me at a few destinations en route? Oh, and the cost of course - that is of preparing the boat and the day to day expenses whilst away, but I had figured it was just about doable thanks to a sizable gift from my youngest son Vincent. 

Oh what a laugh! Now, thanks to the global crisis, those blips have grown into rather large and depressing blotches. I had, of course, also completely underestimated the time it would take to get the boat ready for long distance ocean passage making. As of today, with Mick's help and Tony's too, I estimate that I'm probably 50% of the way there (and no doubt that's 50% too optimistic). Sharon can't believe it - "but you told me that boat had everything you needed". I did and whilst I knew that was a slight exaggeration, the passage back from Portugal last year, proved that there was a lot more to do than I appreciated.

So, why am I now off sailing rather than knuckling down to all the hard work still ahead? Well, there are three answers to that.  

The first two are pretty water tight excuses. I need to test out the new systems/new bits before pushing off on an ocean passage. Secondly, a lot can happen in 12 months and so who knows whether I’ll actually be in a position to undertake any ocean sailing next year. Best get some in now while I can then! The third, quite simply, is down to a severe personality flaw. I am really impatient - especially when it comes to boats and sailing. It's actually a minor miracle that I have waited this long to set off.

Despite the many delays in order to get the boat ready, things did not start well. 

Firstly, I suffered a very unpleasant attack of diarrhoea in the early hours of Wednesday morning. I had travelled down to Hoo on Tuesday morning in order to avoid the worst of the near 40 degree heat of that day. I had to collect rope and other chandlery before the shops closed but would not be able to access the boat until about 1600. I therefore had time to kill some time which included eating a dodgy sandwich in a Cafe in the commercial park near Chatham Marina. At the time the only "dodgy" thing I was aware of was its sogginess as a consequence of sitting in the fridge since the morning. A just passable replacement was provided and I thought no more about it. Was it the cause of my "Deli Belly"? Maybe, but both my daughter and granddaughter had had tummy bugs before I left and so I may have picked it up from them. Anyway, the early hours of Wednesday were rather unpleasant! 

To cap it all, a new crew member and member of Hooness Yacht Club, Jola, was due to arrive at 0500 for the first leg round to Ramsgate. It would be her longest passage thus far and she was really looking forward to it. However, I soon realised that I was in no state to go anywhere and so rang her in the hope that she had not yet left home. I got no answer, so I left a message. A little while later she messaged me back to wish me well - but never said whether she had left home! I hope not.

I stayed in bed all day Wednesday which included a "Billy Connolly moment". For those unaware of the reference, it's an affliction experienced by men of a certain age when one bodily function simultaneously sets off another unexpected one. The net result is rather more laundry than expected! It was almost 36 hours later before I started feeling the slightest bit peckish!

The other cause of the troublesome start to the passage was that the boat was proving rather difficult to steer!

I had installed my new home made Hydrovane rudder the previous weekend. and I assumed I must have forgotten how to set it up properly for motoring. After some faffing/adjusting, I seemed to get it sorted. But the problem reappeared and then went away again. Perhaps the home made rudder was exerting slightly different forces on the boat - but why was it intermittent? I never found out and we’ll see why later.

Following my day of torpor, I set the Alarm for 0500 the next day - Thursday 21st July - as much in hope as expectation. To my great relief however, I awoke to realise there had been no repeat of the previous night’s disturbances and that I didn’t feel any worse than normal at that time of day. I therefore got up, put the kettle on and prepared the boat for departure. I still didn’t feel like anything more substantial than a cup of tea for breakfast and sipped that as I got on with my preparations. First stop was to be the fuel dock less than a mile away at Gillingham so that I could fill the water tank. Warps and fenders therefore had to be prepared.

The ebb had just started by the time I got to the fuel dock, only to discover that there was no water available. Getting off the dock was a little tricky with the ebb tide running but was accomplished without mishap. I had enough bottled water to last a few days and was not unduly concerned.

The wind remained light from the West and I knew we would lose the tide before getting to North Foreland, even if we were making a decent speed. I therefore kept the engine on and we motor sailed until we passed North Foreland, punching the rising tide for the last two hours. Once round however we had a fair tide and a fair wind which had backed further North and so I switched the engine off. We sailed on at about 4 knots over the ground and passed Ramsgate in the late afternoon. The forecast was for fair winds for about the next 24 hours and so we pressed on to take full advantage of the relatively rare North Easterlies. 

I experimented with the Hydrovane for the first time since fitting the new rudder [insert photo] but in the light following winds it proved impossible to hold a reliable course through the various hazards down this part of the coast and so I took the easy option and reverted to the autohelm. However, because previous owners had modified the Hydrovane, it was impossible to remove its rudder without getting into the dinghy/water. In the water, it therefore remained!

Shortly after my experiment with the Hydrovane, I heard a bang. However, despite checking everything I could think of on deck I could find nothing amiss and so returned to the cockpit. Going down the companionway I glanced aft and noted the top of the Hydrovane gear was nice and still, not flapping about from side to side at all. I stood there for a moment and those words repeated themselves in my mind “at all, at all…” “Oh, oh that’s not right” I thought and with a sinking feeling in my stomach I went to the stern and peered over. My worst fears were realised. The rudder I had spent hours and hours making over the winter had vanished! The previous one at least lasted some 30 plus years. Mine barely lasted 30 minutes! Despite all my efforts it was clearly nowhere near strong enough. I comforted myself with the thought that it was far better to discover that fact now than in a mid ocean storm! Thankfully the autohelm was robust and should be fine for the sailing planned in 2022. 

We passed Dover a few miles off around 2300 and were fortunate enough to get through the busy Ferry traffic without having to make any major course alterations. The Easterly wind increased a little and held and so we ran on goosewinged making good progress even when the tide was against us until we passed Nab Tower and the Eastern end of the Isle of Wight the following morning. 

The tide started running against us again at about the same time and so the engine was pressed into service once more allowing us to crawl slowly along the south coast of the Isle of Wight.

Around mid morning on the Saturday, about half way between St Catherine’s Point (on the south coast of the IoW) and Portland Bill, the wind re-appeared but this time from the SSW. The engine went off once again and we continued once again under sail, this time close hauled on the port tack. The wind gradually freshed further during the afternoon and we were soon making very good progress. 

My work on the Dorade vents (see Post “Preparations for 2022”) had improved matters, but every now and then the windward Dorade box took a direct hit and water found its way down below once again! 

By dusk the wind was blowing at the top end of Force 5 and with the lee rail going under more and more often, I put a reef in the mainsail. With the rest of the trip guaranteed to be a close hauled affair, I left the Genoa fully unrolled so as to avoid distorting its shape and so reducing its windward performance. The GPS was now recording speeds over the ground between 5 - 7 knots even when the tide was against us. However, the wind gradually veered further Westwards and it became apparent that we would not weather Start Point on the port tack. Around 1800 and about a mile offshore from the mouth of the River Dart, we tacked and headed South East to clear the bulge in the coast around Salcombe. 

At midnight we tacked back onto our Westerly heading. Up to this point I was considering pressing on to Falmouth, but it seemed likely that would require a further two tacks and would add probably 6 hours on to the passage AND the forecast was for stronger winds further West. I was also beginning to feel in need of a rest and therefore eased the sheets slightly and Bonny was soon hurtling towards Plymouth instead. Shortly afterwards we had our second close encounter with another vessel. 

The first had been earlier in the night when an Italian sailing yacht got much too close for comfort. I picked her up on the AIS in good time but it took me some time to work out that she was a sailing vessel. She had her steaming light on which created a pale ghostly glow from behind her mainsail. At the time I did not realise what I was seeing and was very confused as to her status (the AIS was not picking up all her details to start with). With the AIS predicting a closest point of approach (CPA) of 0.1 miles within 20 mins, I needed clarification and so called her up on the VHF. Despite calling her repeatedly on Channel 16 and directly via DSC I got no response and she continued on her course. After about 10 minutes the AIS confirmed her status as a sailing vessel and her strange ghostly glow made sense. She was on port tack and we were on starboard and so were the stand-on vessel. Further attempts to raise her on the VHF failed and so eventually I had to take evasive action. I resisted the temptation to shout abuse over the VHF and just let rip at her over the waves!

The second close encounter was with a fishing vessel. Fishing vessels have the right of way over all other vessels and so it was down to me to get out of the way. The AIS alarm had been going off so frequently during the night that I turned down the AIS sensitivity so that it only picked up vessels within 2 miles and the alarm only went off if the vessel was going to get closer than half a mile. Therefore, the next time it went off I knew I would have to get my skates on. Unfortunately, I had fallen into a particularly deep sleep and was pretty dozy when I ‘woke’ up. It took me a few minutes to realise what was going on and what I needed to do. I could see her starboard light which meant she was crossing from my port side. We therefore needed to turn to port to allow her (and the nets she was pulling) to pass in front of us. We were on the port tack sailing slightly free and so could turn to port by 10 degrees or so without tacking. If that was not enough we would have to heave-to. I therefore put the helm up to turn to port. Just at that moment I heard her calling us on the VHF. With no remote mic in the cockpit and having neglected to grab the handheld as I went out, I had to lock the helm and dash back below to answer her call. Fortunately, she had seen our change of course whilst in the process of calling us up, and acknowledged it as soon as I answered her call. The skipper very calmly and politely went on to ask us to maintain our course until he was well clear!

This slightly unnerving experience underlined the need to get some rest as soon as possible. Busy fishing grounds are no place for a tired and dozy single handed sailor! 

After following a large tanker into Plymouth Sound, we dropped anchor in Cawsands Bay, at 0445, completing our passage a couple of hours short of 72 hours. 

After a few hours kip I booked my rail ticket back to London and then started looking for a marina berth in which to leave the boat for the week while I returned to London for the family trip up to Norfolk the following weekend. There are 5 large marinas in Plymouth and it never occured to me I would have a problem finding a berth, but every one of them was fully booked for the following weekend. I had picked the one weekend of the year when the SailGB event based in Plymouth was to be in full swing. Finally, after numerous and increasingly desperate phone calls and following my friend George’s suggestion, I spoke to the Harbour Master at the next door river Yealm who said they could fit me in. I therefore motored over there early on Monday morning and was able to catch my train back to London from Plymouth the next day, thereby avoiding what would have been something of a domestic crisis!

A progress report on preparations for ocean cruising

 

Above - new Hydrovane rudder under various stages of construction

Firstly, the biggy. When it comes to an ocean cruising boat - wind vane self steering is a must have. I was therefore delighted that Bonny came equipped with what's often regarded as the Rolls Royce of self steering systems - a Hydrovane. This steers the boat via its own sizable rudder to steer the boat rather than the more typical servo pendulum system that steers the boat via the boat's own rudder. This can therefore be used to steer the boat even if the main rudder is lost. This feature is a big selling point for the Hydrovane and it's extremely popular with ocean cruising folk (especially the well healed). However, I suspect that’s more marketing hype than real benefit because it's much more exposed than the boat's own rudder (especially on a long keeled boat like Bonny). An inquisitive or malicious Orca would simply be faced with two toys to play with and brea! 

Attaching the Hydrovane rudder is also a bit of a hassle, requiring a dip in the water or a clamber into the dinghy (or possibly both). Removing it is easy enough - a pull on a lanyard will disconnect it from the shaft and it can be hauled aboard. That's fine most of the time - remove it before entering harbour and attach it before leaving. Unfortunately, someone had attempted to improve Bonny's, by installing a hinge - the net result was that it was not only a pain to attach but also to hinge up or remove - the disconnect mechanism was no more. Quite what to do if one needed to get it off in an emergency (such as hove-to in a storm) I'm not sure. Never mind, it's still a Hydrovane. Admittedly it was almost as old as the boat (47 years). But, hey it's built like a tank. What could possibly go wrong? Early trials were promising - despite its age it worked just fine and brought us all the way back to the Western Approaches via Madeira and the Azores. A pretty good test eh? Notice I said the "Western Approaches"! 

That's where we experienced another of the numerous spells of light winds and as before the steering started to wander a bit. Only this time it was more than a bit and we had to pay even more attention to balancing the sail plan to hold a reasonable close reach course.

If you've read my posts from last year you will know that's because the bloody rudder had fallen off! Despite the issues referred to above, I therefore spent a large chunk of the Autumn/Winter/Spring making a new rudder of dense foam covered in glass fibre reinforced with epoxy and tape around all the edges. The whole thing was then painted with resin topcoat. I intended to antifoul it later. A strong attachment to the hinge mechanism was clearly required and so I used a chunky aluminium tube with a slot cut out, into which the stainless steel hinge spindle/plate was hammered so as to secure a tight fit. I then drilled 3 holes through the tube and spindle and bolted through with three stainless steel bolts. I used plenty of anti-corrosion paste throughout. It looked pretty cool and I was quietly confident despite Mick pointing out the enormous forces that would be acting on it.

I installed the rudder last weekend. On leaving the mooring I found the boat difficult to steer. I must have forgotten how to set the Hydrovane rudder up for motoring and after some faffing/adjusting, I seemed to get it sorted. But the problem reappeared and then went away again. Perhaps the home made rudder was exerting slightly different forces on the boat - but why was it intermittent? Read the next post to find out more!

Another job that kept me occupied over the winter-spring, was making a new fridge. The boat originally had a traditional door opening fridge as part of its very badly designed galley (Arctic Smoke's was so much better). This is not a sensible design for a fridge for a boat with limited power (which would have been even more limited in 1975 when the boat was built). Everytime you open the door all the cold air falls out and so the compressor works harder and consumes more power! However, it had clearly broken down under Bonny's previous owners and they had replaced it with a good quality electric cool box that seemed very efficient and could freeze. Both desirable qualities. On the down side it was rather small for long passages and was simply sitting in the void left by the old fridge. It was bound to go flying across the cabin as soon as the boat leaned over - which of course sailing boats have a tendency to do! Mick and I therefore rigged a temporary restraining strap across the old fridge doorway to stop that happening on the passage back to the UK and that worked fine. A bit of contortion to gain access to the lift up lid, now permanently under the draining board, was worth the inconvenience.

However, a bigger more sea-worthy fridge was ‘needed’ and so that was another off-season project. Stephen and Ines bought their first house complete with a garage over the winter and kindly allowed me to take over the garage to use as a workshop. I therefore made a box out of plywood sealed with epoxy, to fit in the existing void (taking account of the need to add insulation) and bought a compressor. Installing the new box was a relatively straightforward process. To my great relief my measuring was pretty accurate and so the box fitted snugly in place surrounded by the necessary insulation material. I had to relocate the water filter first which required fitting new pipes. Unfortunately I still haven’t managed to get rid of the resulting air leak which is causing the water pump to ‘stutter’ and the tap soaks the operator as the pump sucks in air! 

I still need to fashion a smart panel to cover the hole left by the old fridge but in the meantime a couple of pieces of plywood are screwed in place to hold the box in situ.

Access to the box is via a hatchway cut into the counter-top. Again I need to finish that off neatly and make a smart lid. For now a ‘temporary’ ‘Heath-Robinson’ solution is in place [insert photo].

Installing the compressor turned out to be more complicated. Provisional measurements indicated it would just fit in the cupboard under the galley sink. However, it didn’t! 

It had to be within only 2 or 3 feet of the box because the coolant pipes could not be extended. Options however were limited. It seemed that it would have to go under the aft bench seat in the saloon or under the pilot berth next to the water filter. However, the latter would be directly under any occupant’s head. The former would be under the feet of anyone sleeping in the convertible double berth in the saloon and was therefore not quite as bad. However, both of these options would use up valuable storage space and so were not ideal.

Then I had a flash of inspiration. There was a void under what would be the base of the fridge. I measured up and yes the compressor would fit. This was ideal because the space could not be used for anything else. I would also be able to ventilate it from below and above by drilling out a couple of vent holes. I got as far as fitting the compressor in place and refitting the box above it when the flaw in my ‘design’ hit me. There was absolutely no way that I could gain access to the compressor in order to attach the coolant pipes! The fridge box prevented access from the top and both sides were sealed off by the galley woodwork structure! Reluctantly I therefore had, afterall, to sacrifice the valuable stowage space under the bench seat [insert photo]. I drilled a hole in the floor to access the cooler air of the bilges and another hole in the front of the bench seat cabinet. I should probably add a fan to help circulate the air through the bench seat cavity.

However, it all works and the compressor seems to be able to maintain the box at decently cool temperatures without working excessively. The box insulation therefore seems to be doing its job. I do need to find a way of organising the space inside the box so that stuff doesn’t simply bury other stuff. Perhaps an assortment of tupperware boxes and/or ‘wire’ trays?

Numerous other jobs were started/undertaken including fitting chain plates for the Jordan Series Drogue (final glassing-in to be completed) and replacing the grab rails on the cabin top. 

Tony was a great help with the latter. The old ones were rather worn. Because there were no grab rails down below (a strange omission for what was a quality build boat in 1975), I decided to use the old ones below decks. The very simple plan was to attach the above deck and below deck rails opposite one another. Both rails would therefore be attached by use of the same bolts. Getting everything lined up so that the holes through the deck were aligned with those in each of the rails proved to be a very fiddly operation and required careful repeated measuring and trial and error and then modification! Suffice to say the job was eventually completed. Many thanks Tony! Although once again there is still finishing off work to do, i.e. fitting plugs (thank you Richard) over
the screw heads/ends and oiling the rails.  

A related project currently on pause, is to fit grab rails on the forward part of the coach roof (another strange omission). I intend to use some existing stainless steel tubing and have bought the necessary base plates and joints. The headlining will have to come down though and so I have put that off until next spring.

Another poor design issue discovered on the passage back from Portugal when sailing close hauled was that the dorade vents leaked. Things seemed even worse when Mick and I took one of his pals and his son out for a day sail at the end of June earlier this year to watch the Swale Barge Match. 

A dorade vent comprises a swivelling funnel protrusion into the outside air that terminates into a box fitted onto the deck. Inside the box a tube protrudes up into the box from the cabin below. Air gets in through the funnel but the water should drain out of the box through a drain hole. Well, rather a lot of the water was draining into the cabin! Why? Mick’s diagnosis and I think he is correct, is that the top of the tube coming up from the cabin is simply not high enough and when an even moderate amount of water gets into the box it over-tops the tube and enters the cabin. The low profile boxes look sleek [Insert photo] but they simply do not provide sufficient height inside, for a tall enough tube to be fitted. Fixing this is proving to be a challenge. Any proper solution will require the removal of the existing boxes but we cannot shift the bloody things! With all the screws removed they cannot be budged even a millimetre. It rather looks as if they would have to be cut off but the prospect of another (for me) major project to be done, fills me with dread.

So as always, I’m on the hunt for a less drastic if less effective solution. I’ve been puzzled as to why, even when the vents are pointed away from the weather, a lot of water can still enter the cabin when the boxes take a direct hit from a breaking wave. I think I may now have the answer to that and therefore a typical Fisher ‘bodge’ fix which I could live with. Following inspection of the tubes/boxes from below and experimentation with bottles of water and further observation when the boxes are taking direct hits of solid water, I reckon there are 3 further factors in play, in addition to the tube height.

There is a fairly small drain slot (see photo) in the base of the box and when the boat is on an even keel it will drain water inside the box out onto the deck, but when the boat is well pressed and therefore healing, the inside of the box is lower than the drain and so a direct hit forces quite a lot of water into the box.

Despite the boxes being fixed firmly to the deck, the box/deck join was not completely water-tight and so water finds yet another way into the box when it takes a direct hit.

Finally, my inspection from below suggests that the join between the vertical tube and the deck may not be watertight meaning that even the relatively moderate amount of water entering the box via the drain slot and the box/deck join through a direct hit, is finding its way into the cabin. 

The ‘fix’ is therefore threefold: seal the box/deck join; seal the tube/deck join from below and temporarily seal the drain slot when (before) taking water over the deck.

So far I have undertaken the first two and I think they have made a difference to the amount of water getting below. A direct hit now needs to be more substantial than before in order to penetrate the cabin. Next, I’ll have to try sealing the drain slots before things get too lively!  

Other significant projects for the off-season were to install a water maker, and a water heater, apply a new treatment of copper-coat anti-fouling and upgrade the battery/power supply system.

I placed an order for a Spectra Survivor Water Maker on the 5th of March. However, it turned out there was a world-wide shortage of essential components and so I only received it in early July. It’s therefore still sitting in its box at home. The plan is to fit it on the bulkhead in the Heads (Loo) and therefore avoid losing any further stowage space. It should just fit! Installation will now have to wait until the coming off-season. I opted for the Spectra for a few reasons. By all accounts it’s reliable with a good reputation. It’s relatively simple to fit. It’s much cheaper than other makes and it draws only 4 Amps when operating. That’s very important when power is at a premium. It can also be operated manually. A feature which, to the best of my knowledge, no others have. Low power does mean slow of course, but that’s not an issue. The planned ocean cruise was always going to be undertaken along fairly frugal lines.  

The water heater has not even been ordered yet. Personally, I was not going to bother but my youngest son Vincent, made a very generous contribution to my boat/sailing fund, on condition that he would be able to have a shower when on board.

I am pretty sure of the heater I will get. Typically, boat hot water systems make use of a thing called a calorifier. This is essentially an immersion heater tank connected up through a series of pipes to the engine’s exhaust system/heat exchanger. However, I don’t want to burn diesel to heat water on long passages (that’s even more of a turn off now given the price of diesel). Some models come with an immersion element too, but that would require use either of a powerful inverter to convert the boat’s 12 volt electricity to standard 240 volts or replacing the 240 volt immersion element with a 12 volt one.  The other down sides to installing a calorifier are the hassle of doing so and the space it would occupy. It would need to be close to the engine and would therefore take up valuable stowage space in the cockpit locker.

The plan therefore is to buy and install a small 12 volt water heater tank. There is at least one option available which looks like it will fit in the limited dead space in the cupboard in the heads. It won’t provide the sort of immediate luxuriously long showers many of us will be used to at home. But it will be a step up from heating a kettle (which uses precious gas) to add hot water to the current ‘pump-up’ weed killer device that we currently use. Showers will have to be planned and only available when there is plenty of sun to charge up the batteries. Of course when Vincent is on board he will always have first call on the shower :)!

Talking of batteries… The passage back from Portugal last year demonstrated that the existing traditional lead acid battery bank was insufficient even without the extra loads we were planning on adding. Mick eventually talked me into the wisdom of investing in Lithium. Lead Acid batteries can typically only be discharged to 50% (when new) of their capacity without damaging them and they have a significantly smaller cycle capacity than lithium batteries (the number of times they can be discharged (by 50%) and charged without running out of puff).

Lithium batteries can typically be discharged to 90-95% of their capacity before their inbuilt battery management system shuts them down.They are also much lighter. So one gets significantly more capacity in a smaller lighter box. The down side is the cost, but they are getting cheaper every year. At today’s prices they already work out significantly cheaper over the life of the battery.

After researching the market I went for 2 100 Amp Hour batteries from Renogy. I also bought their clever black box with built-in solar regulator which connects the domestic battery bank to the engine battery and regulates the relationship between the two and between the input from the solar panels, alternator, and wind generator. This was Mick’s big project over the off-season and is now fully operational. We also replaced the boat’s existing wind generator with a slightly more powerful 2nd hand one. 

I’ve missed out numerous smaller projects and jobs that have either been done or need to be done but those - so far at least - are the main ones.