Another change of plan

Since my previous post, I have received feedback from sailing sources, and others who have visited South Africa in recent months and have heard and read various news reports on the continuing deterioration of the social and political situation in South Africa. 

Less news worthy, but no less concerning is the level of crime and social unrest in Brazil. I've been a member of a WhatsApp group focused on encouraging sailors to visit that country and its clear that plenty are doing so. However, it was after reading a post on the group that sought to reassure potential members of a planned sailing rally, that all would be well, thanks to a strong armed police presence, that I decided Brazil was also not the place for me.

Of course plenty of travellers of all types have visited strife ridden countries and have survived to tell the tale and many have considered their experiences worthwhile and of benefit to the local communties they have engaged with. 

It is also true that nowhere is without risk and that goes for my fallback destination - the islands of the Southern Caribbean. But everyone has to draw their own line.

The plan is still to head off in June/July this year once the boat is ready. We may visit Ireland first. 

A Mischievous plan, teeth, skin, tubes and other bits and bobs

A VERY rough indication of our intended 2023/24 route around the North and South Atlantic Oceans

For a number of years now, I've been contemplating a circumnavigation. Indeed that's why I bought Bonny in 2021 in the first place. Like many before me however, my plans have encountered headwinds and choppy waters. Changing family circumstances, some very welcome like a continuing supply of new grandchildren, but others less so, such as health issues affecting family members and the impact of the cost of living crisis, have required a scaling back of that ambition. 

I've therefore been looking for a voyage that I could complete in around 12 months, that would provide a sense of achievement if completed, but would also provide sufficient 'down time' to enjoy some 'sights' along the way.

Having previously completed a North Atlantic circuit (2015-17), I wanted to do something a little different this time and so started considering whether a trip into the South Atlantic and back might be feasible. 

A view of Jamestown, St Helena and its anchorage.

I'd read various accounts of visits to St Helena and Ascension.The relative isolation of these islands in the middle of the South Atlantic provides a significant enticement for me and of course, the opportunity to "cross the line" for the first time adds further spice to the proposed adventure. 

St Helena and Ascension Islands

Most sailing visitors arrive at St Helena from Cape Town during the Southern Hemisphere's late summer, hoping to ride the South East Trade Winds as far north as possible before tackling the doldrums straddling the equator. 

Ascension

That's a lot of miles to cover though, including those through the calms and squalls of the doldrums and its important to be in the right place at the right time to benefit from the prevailing weather systems and to lessen the risk of being clobbered by bad weather. Arrival at and departure from Cape Town in favourable conditions, are the most critical of considerations.  Approaching Cape Town from the South West in the Southern Summer and clearing out from there before the onset of Autumn when gales become increasingly frequent and more intense, are therefore, the key passage making objectives. To give us time to explore the Cape Town area we need to arrive as early as possible in January, or even earlier, before departing for St Helena by the end of March.

Working backwards and forwards from Cape Town's location and time window and taking into account, the seasons, general weather patterns, the inevitable delays due to boat maintenance and the time needed to explore Brazil (a little), I thought the proposed cruise looked viable, if a little on the busy side!

It seemed sensible to find out how others had fared, but after searching through the archives of the Ocean Cruising Club and the Royal Cruising Club, I couldn't find a single account of anyone undertaking such a passage. I also posted a question on the Ocean Cruising Club members forum, asking if anyone had done it, but got no response.

Surely someone must have done it by now!? Then I remembered; some years ago, I had read accounts of similar voyages undertaken by the irrepressible Bill (H.W.) Tillman back in the 1960s. The accounts are written by Tillman himself and make extremely enjoyable reading. Amongst his numerous journeys of remarkable exploration to the top and bottom of the globe, in search of isolated mountains to climb, he made two voyages that included circuits of the North and South Atlantic in 'Mischief' his venerable Bristol Pilot Cutter. One was to Kerguelen Island in the South Indian Ocean and the other to South Shetland just north of the Antarctic continent deep in the South Atlantic Ocean. On both occasions, he got to those inhospitable locations and back to the UK in around 12 months. Admittedly, he didn't dally to admire the scenery on the way - he made only short stops to re-provision in the Canaries and Cape Town on the first trip and at the Canaries and Montevideo, Uruguay, on the second. However, he did spend a lot of time venturing much further south than I intend and a lot of time climbing mountains!

Following further research I came across the very informative and helpful "The South Atlantic Circuit" by Tom Morgan. Taken together with Tillman's voyage blazing, the book convinced me the voyage was doable, potentially very enjoyable and certainly well worth attempting. Getting to Brazil early enough in the season to provide sufficient time to get through the later passage gates whilst enjoying sufficient 'down time' is the key milestone on which the rest of the circuit depended. It will require departing the Canaries early in the season when the North East Trades are less reliable, but plenty of people have done that before. However, if we do fail to make Brazil in good time, we can fall back on plan B and return to the UK from there via the Caribbean.

So the die is cast. We'll (attempt) to follow in (some of) Mischief's wake and undertake a circuit of the North and South Atlantic commencing this June. We'll head first for the Canaries, then cross to Brazil and spend a couple of months there, before crossing the South Atlantic to Cape Town in December/January. The planned route for the return leg, is via St Helena, Ascension and the Azores; then back to the UK for the summer of 2024. 

In the meantime the skipper and boat both need significant works and preparations. 

Starting with the skipper. Recent visits to the Dentist and GP have revealed the need for remedial works. My teeth have never been one of my better features and of course, the march of time has not helped, having left me short of a few! I was only a boy when the first went missing without permission. It was a boating incident. Keen to demonstrate my usefulness to my Dad; when the 'trusty' seagull outboard expired, I stood up, put the dinghy painter in my mouth and dived into the water to tow the dinghy the remaining few yards to the boat. I surfaced with an odd sensation in my mouth and then noticed looks of horror etched on the faces of those still in the dinghy. Further boating activities were put on hold whilst I was whisked off to the local dentist short of one and a half pegs!

Genetics, an aversion to the tooth brush (in my younger years), gum disease diagnosed far too late, and the ravages of time conspired to require the capping of many of my pegs and the extraction of a further two. Then on Friday, I finally plucked up the wherewithal to visit the dentist to get the odd sensation in my upper jaw checked out. It turned out I had a sizeable abcess around the root of a capped tooth which was alongside a pretty ineffective broken tooth. The Dentist was most surprised that I wasn't in agony as a consequence, but said I could just leave it alone until it started playing up when it would have to come out. The prospect of that happening mid Atlantic made me opt for the other option of having the faulty pegs removed immediately and replaced with a plate containing two false teeth! They probably wont be the last I'll need! The deed will be done in a couple of weeks.

The previous day's visit to the GP to check out the flaky skin on the bridge of my nose confirmed the need for treatment to remove sun damaged skin before anything nasty developed. A simple cream applied twice a day for 4-6 weeks will apparently do the job. The down side being I'll be wandering around with a sore red nose whilst the cream does its job. However, rather that than develop full blown skin cancer in the South Atlantic!

A few months previously, having finally got fed up with my increasingly erratic personal plumbing; blood tests, and ultra sound and another visit to the GP, led to both anticipated and unanticipated results. My PSA test was negative for prostate cancer, but the ultrasound confirmed an enlarged prostate (which I had known about for years). The Doc said I had four options: do nothing and put up with the symptoms; start a lifetime course of tablets to mitigate the symptoms; go on hormone treatment to reduce the size of the prostate; or have a course of steam treatment! Yes that's right, steam treatment! I had to ask her to repeat herself a couple of times. Apparently, some sadist has come up with the notion that squirting steam up one's willy can reduce the size of one's prostate! Now I'm not particularly squeamish but I drew the line at that! I wasn't too keen on messing about with my hormones either given I strongly suspected the ones I had left weren't in much better condition than my teeth! As an after thought the good Doc said, ".. of course I could always refer you to a Urologist..". I said yest to the tablets and to the Urologist. I have an appointment with the latter in April. Provided that is, the poor old NHS can stump one up by then. I strongly suspect, he or she, will simply advise me to keep taking the tablets but we'll see.

The result I hadn't expected but which really should not have surprised me, was that I had significantly raised cholesterol levels. Despite my Dad dying of a heart attack at the ridiculously young age of 56 and despite previous test results showing raised cholesterol, I had convinced myself that all was well with my own ticker and was not taking any steps to minimise my cholesterol levels.

I've now reluctantly stopped consuming butter and am trying to limit my consumption of other animal fats and alcohol. I hope that will stop the rot but better get tested again before we set sail for the South Atlantic.

I'm also hoping that the various aches, pains and sore joints, that come and go these days, will not develop into anything too disabling during the planned cruise.

On a more pro-active note, after a long lay off due to injury, I've also returned to running three times a week with my youngest son. At 30, he is less than half my age but is patient enough to act as a good pace maker for his old man. Before the lay off I was able to run 5k at a 6 minute average pace with his help but am only averaging around 6:15 now. Perhaps by June I'll be able to make 6 minutes once again!

Celestial Navigation Homework

I also made a late New Year's Resolution to (re)learn celestial navigation. I managed to pass the Yacht Master Ocean theory course back in 2015, when, prior to pushing off on my previous Atlantic Circuit in Arctic Smoke, I fell in love with the idea of navigating properly. To my great shame, the lore of the GPS proved much to seductive and my shiny new sextant hardly left its box and it's stayed there ever since. At least it didn't get damaged. In the intervening years, I've forgotten everything I learnt on that course and only passed it because I managed to memorise (all to briefly) the various steps without ever really understanding them.

This time I have vowed it will be different. I have spent hours following this chap's Youtube tutorial https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yu5R5mrrGB0 and more hours working through various examples. I've only focussed on the sun thus far and think I have almost got the hang of the basics. I've enjoyed spending the time to (try) and understand the theory this time and am hopeful that I will be able to put it into practice when we put to sea. You never know, if Putin's outrageous war on Ukraine get's even more out of hand, the Americans might start pulling the plug on GPS!

What about the boat? Well the list of potential improvements and repairs is too extensive to cover here but the main ones, in no particular order are:

Replace the lost Hydrovane rudder. The original fell off off Lands End in 2021 and the replacement I made for it last year broke off within a couple of hours. I then found a second hand one on ebay complete with a downtube and shaft for £300. 

Pictured above the "new" rudder with tube and shaft along with the now discarded skeleton of another 'to be made' rudder.

Unfortunately, the tube/shaft turned out to be incompatible with my ancient Hydrovane system and so my pal Bernie, who is  dab hand at these things, welded a new length of stainless steel rod onto the hinge (shown on top of the rudder skeleton in the above photo) onto which - thanks to a previous owner's modification - the lost rudder had been attached. 

I think this may have been undertaken with the aim of making the removal and attachment of the rudder easier. However, it had the opposite effect - it required either a dip into the water or a clamber into the dinghy to attach AND remove the rudder. At least the standard Hydrovane set-up enabled removal of the rudder from the boat.

The other end of the rod that Bernie welded onto the hinge will insert into the head of the rudder..

Looking down on the head of the new rudder

The rudder is then secure to the rod/shaft by a stainless steel pin that goes through the rudder and shaft...

Side view of the head of the rudder 

with hole through which the retaining pin is inserted.

The retaining pin - top left

It doesn't look a particularly robust arrangement does it? Others have thought the same and have tried to make it stronger by using a larger pin or by replacing the pin with a larger bolt, only to lose their rudders!

The new assembly is now on board awaiting 'passivation' to remove the microscopic welding debris that would otherwise rust and then a test sail will be required.

Installation of the  new Spectra water maker, bought last year, needs completing.

A new 12v water heater and shower needs installing (a commitment made to my youngest son in return for his generous contribution to my sailing kitty - he wants to be able to take a shower when on board).

To keep up with the extra power that will be consumed by the new appliances and the new fridge installed last year, I'd also like to install a fourth solar panel to add another 100 Watts of generation capacity to the existing 380 Watts.

I've already attached chainplates for the Jordan's Drogue (a sort of emergency brake for yachts) 

but need to finish the job by glassing the internal backing plates to the hull.

New attachment points for the spinnaker booms' halyards need to be riveted to the mast.

The deck fitting for the emergency forestay needs replacing with a stronger one.

The sacrificial strip on the Genoa as well as its leach line, needs replacing.

The life-raft needs servicing or replacing as do the fire extinguishers. 

The bottom will need scrubbing off and I want to swap the existing 3 bladed propellor for a two bladed one to reduce the drag whilst sailing.

The engine's heat exchanger needs cleaning.

Some of the seams in the rather worn teak deck need caulking.

Various additional bits of running rigging and related pulley blocks and deck fittings are need to be purchased and fitted.

A host of other, relatively minor maintenance tasks are also required.

Well that's it for now. Hopefully, my next post will confirm good progress has been made on all appropriate fronts and that we're still on for departure in June. 

Sorry about the lack of photos!

 

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.