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!
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