The Journey
23rd August – 25th August 2016 Canneto (Aeolian Islands) to Carbonara
(Sardinia)
265 nm in 41 hours 55 minutes
23rd August 0930
After a very restless night because of swell we lifted the
anchor at 0930 and set off on the next leg of our journey out of the Med. We
had looked at three weather sites on the internet – Predict Wind, zyGrib and
Passage weather. Predict wind is the new one and I am trying to get used to it
and all its foibles. It will be the model that is used when the satellite phone
is the only way to contact the world and when every second downloading, talking
and texting costs a fortune so the more adept I am at using it and reading the
systems the better. I don’t particularly like it and in my short experience it
has not been very accurate in the Med, but I must persist. Passage Weather is
my favourite and always seems to be almost right. The other one, zyGrib is the
new grib file system Lionel has started using, pretty colours and the
information seems ok. The summary was 20
knots at the most, on the beam dying during the first night and probably a lot
of motoring the next day. Not good but not bad either. We had disagreed on what
time we should depart so we compromised, he said 0900, I said 1200 so we
decided last night that 1000 was a good compromise???? I don’t understand the
logic either but hey, it works for us. So, we left at 0930, into a strong head
wind and a biggish swell. The main sail was eventually hoisted at 1100 to help
drive through the waves but at some instances we were still doing under 3 knots
as we battled against wind and waves. We watched as a liner came into view. AIS
told us it was The World, the liner where millionaires buy a cabin and each
gets a turn to decide where they want to go. Lionel couldn’t decide where he
would go but it was easy for me, up the West coast of Canada to Alaska and into
the Arctic Circle which I don’t really understand because I crave sun and heat.
At 1300 as we cleared Isola Salina we sailed. Two reefs in
the main and at least half of the jib rolled away we were going into a force 4
head wind with maybe 2 metres of short choppy swell. It was my watch but Lionel
kindly stayed up on deck with me for a while until I got confident with the
conditions. The wind wasn’t really a problem, the swell was. I should have been
used to this nasty stuff because of all the sailing I’ve done in Scotland and
Ireland but that was a long long time ago. In the Atlantic the swell is huge
but it’s smooth and constant. This was “bang, bang, bang” then a few minutes
when you held your breath hoping, praying that it had stopped then “BANG” and
you were soaked. There were still two islands to pass before we were in open
sea. The wind came and went depending on whether we were near land or in the
gap between land. I persuaded myself that the wind was abating and watching a
passing ketch I decided that if they could do it so could I so we took out the
third reef at 1500 but half an hour later it went back in as the wind returned
with a vengeance. By 1700 the wind had
increased to force 5 with gusts up to 25 knots and the swell had got worse.
There was still three reefs in the main sail and the jib was just a wee pocket
hankie. I had been knocked off my feet by a wave which had swept on board and
soaked the both of us and stupidly I hadn’t closed the companion way hatch so
there was water down below. Thank goodness it had not gone into the bilges
where I keep all the bottles and cans of food – the cellar as we call it. By
the end of my watch, 1800, we had managed to achieve about 34 nm. Lionel cooked
dinner of chicken and pasta and afterwards I fell into bed exhausted, promising
to do the dishes when I got up at midnight. Sleep was fitful and even with
earplugs in the noise kept me awake. Ruby rocked this way and that then pitched
and came down with a hard noisy slam. Not good sleeping conditions.
24th August
Lionel woke me up around 2330. It takes some time for me to
come to and I can be a grumpy cow when woken up. Conditions had not got any
better and we were still going into a force 5 head wind with stronger gusts
every now and then. Despite this, he had managed to maintain a very healthy
average of around 7 knots so we were almost 90nm away from our starting point.
The conditions had been bad enough in the daylight but at night, even with an
almost full moon, I found them terrifying. With strict instructions to wear a
life jacket at all times (he should know by now that I don’t need to be told)
and to clip on to the new life line before I took the old one of when I was
moving around the cockpit, he handed me the torch, our badge of office, and
left me in complete charge. I will be honest, I sat terrified for half an hour
then realised he wasn’t joking about leaving me to get on with it and so I got
on with it. There isn’t much to be done when the wind is blowing from a
constant direction at anything from 15 to 25 knots. You sit and watch the wind
hawk. You watch for lights out at sea. And you duck the waves which were still
coming over the side. The one and only ship I saw was a block of flats (a liner
to you land lubbers). I must confess it was a very nice liner driven by a
lovely captain who slowed down and altered course to avoid me by 3 miles. This
course of action is unheard of. Personally I think large ships, especially
ferries, are programmed to come as close as humanly possible to small ships,
especially 12 metre boats. Therefore I felt like radioing the liner, Splendour,
and thanking the mannie who was driving for being so considerate but I didn’t.
This is not the course of action a well salted sailor would take but if you
ever read this thank you anyway.
I was managing to average around 6 knots, which wasn’t too
bad. The wind slowly reduced and at 0500 I shook out the third reef and put out
a little more jib. We had passed Ustica about midnight and during my watch the
lights slowly receded into the night. The next lights that we would see would
be on Sardinia. There isn’t much that can be done on the night watch. It’s six
hours of watching, listening and thinking. I usually find myself trying to put
my life in order, trying to understand my past, making sense of the present and
guessing the future. “Good game, good game” a very wise woman told me 18 years
ago to walk away from the past, it’s past and there is nothing you can do about
it but sometimes reflection is good for the soul so I play the game that
everyone does every now and again, “what if”.
I woke Lionel at 0545. 123nm had been travelled and the wind
was now down to force 3. Hurrah!!! I l had left the reefs in for him to decide
what to do because even though the wind was down there was still huge gusts
which rounded up the boat and we were almost broaching. He decided to leave it
for an hour and see if it improved. I went down, had breakfast, brushed my
teeth and went to bed, hopefully for a better sleep than last time. By 0920 the
wind had gone and Lionel started motoring. Well, the forecast had predicted
this. Motoring is good sometimes. Although we have three huge service
batteries, a 64w solar panel and a much improved (it had a little trip back to
the factory for new bearings) wind generator we still have to recharge using
the engine or generator if the amp hours deficit is more than 100. If George,
the auto pilot, is being used we use around 6amps every hour therefore in the
10 hours of darkness, when the relative wind is non-existent we can run down
the batteries fairly quickly. The noise of the engine woke me up but I didn’t
realise it was being run because there was no wind so I quickly went back to
sleep. Lionel is very lucky, he can read, write and do most things when we are
on the move, unlike me who feels sick after a few pages. He was busy writing a
piece for the blog when he realised that there was wind blowing through his
hair – or what hair he has left. So, at 1045 he started sailing again with all
the white canvas billowing in the 12 knots of wind. Wonderful.
When I got up at 1100 we had travelled 150nm, the wind was
12 knots on the beam and the average speed was around 7 knots. Bliss. The next
worry was calculating when we were going to arrive. The anchorage we were
heading for was a huge area but going by past experiences we knew the Italian’s
could fill a huge anchorage fast. The experience at Volcano still stuck in my
throat – the anchorage had been full and we had to go into the marina paying
100 euros for the privilege – and I knew that 100 euros was small change for a
marina berth in Sardinia in August. Therefore when we were going to arrive was
pretty important. Although there was a moon, it did not rise before 0100 and
the dawn started to break around 0530. Between these times would be good if we
had to arrive at night. Then there was sleep patterns. I wanted Lionel well
rested before he faced anchoring. Anchoring was no problem he had a system and
it worked but he still stressed, as most skippers do, over depth and holding
and space. By midday we had done 155nm with 90 miles to go. We averaging around
6 knots which meant we would arrive around 0400 the next morning. Ok, that
would work.
My watch began at midday and I had a pretty uneventful l six
hours. The wind was just on or just behind the beam force 3 to 4. Approximately
42nm in 6 hours. Those good at sums will know but I can’t help boasting, an
average of 7 knots. I sunbathed, watched very small dolphin – could have been
porpoises -, and dodged a few cargo ships. Six hours of sitting in the sun
watching the world or water go by. This started me thinking about the Atlantic
crossing from Cape Verde to Barbados. I could have three weeks of this
depending on the strengths of the winds. Is this when sailors get bored and
fall out of love with sailing? What on earth do you do for all that time? I
have heard stories of sailing for 12 days in a row without touching the sails
or course. It wouldn’t even be George we would be depending on it would be
Hattie, the wind steering gear who is a very independent girl and goes with the
wind. Basically the course is set to the wind and when the wind changes Hattie
corrects herself. The great thing is she doesn’t need power so we cut the
consumption by two thirds and we don’t need to run the generator everyday maybe
every third day. However, that makes me almost redundant. Almost, I would still
need to make witty comments, wash the dishes and generally tidy up. I love him
to bits but the skipper is a messy so and so. It’s almost the only time we ever
have words. Now panic has set in. What will I do all day? There is just so much
cleaning a girl can do and how do you make sarcastic comments to a sleeping
man? I know I could write my memoirs. Only problem is every other person you
meet is doing that and the market can only take so many nautical travel books
even though mine would be funny, well written and full of interesting facts. I
spent the rest of the afternoon contemplating how I can waste three weeks of my
life. The conclusion? It won’t be wasted, I will have fulfilled a dream and I
would never fall out of love with sailing, it’s my passion.
Lionel didn’t sleep very much during his six hours off. I
started to worry about his state of mind tomorrow morning when we are trying to
anchor in the dark. We had Mediterranean chicken for dinner, thank goodness we
both like garlic as the boat stank of the stuff for the next couple of hours.
Another good thing about our partnership is the division of labour. He cooks, I
clean. It depends on your preference whether you think it’s a good or bad way
of doing things. During dinner I come up with a cunning plan. I sleep anywhere.
I find a pillow, shut my eyes and fall asleep. Easy. Lionel does not, that is
why I always do the night watch. He finds it easier to sleep in the hours of
darkness. I have worked it out if he calls me at 2300 instead of midnight he
should get a good five hours sleep before he has to park Ruby. He agrees. I go
to bed happier knowing we only have 70 nm to go and we will be in Sardinia
again.
25th August
An uneventful five hours. I slept, he sailed with full sails
and a 10 knot wind more or less on the beam. At 2300 Lionel looked exhausted.
He marked a waypoint on the chart where he wanted woken up. There were two
shallow areas as we approached the south coast and he knew I was nervous sailing
at night near land. What a treasure? I had about 30 nm to go so I worked out if
6 knots were achieved he could have 5 hours sleep. Grrrrrr. It was just my
luck, 12 knot wind directly on the beam and Ruby sped along like a dream
achieving 8 knots without any effort.
The sea was as smooth as a baby’s bottom. I had to slow down somehow. I
reefed the Jib. It broke my heart but we slowed to 6.5 knots. It was one of the
most fantastic night sails I have had. Looking up I thought I probably could
see every planet and star ever created. I could even see the twist of the Milky
Way. There was Mars but I still couldn’t find Snickers!!!! When the moon rose
it was a huge red crescent. A beautiful clear warm night. I watched the
approach of the Sardinian coast, trying to work out which lighthouse was which
altering the course every now and again to get to Lionel’s mark on the chart.
The last time I approached land at night was many months ago in The Canaries. I
picked out two white lights directly in front of me. Thinking it was a ship I
watched them carefully. The space between the two vertical lights got bigger
and bigger. What on earth was coming towards me? This was the biggest ship I
had ever seem. You guessed correctly. It was two lights on the island we were approaching.
I have never been allowed to forget my mistake and it gets told every now and
again to anyone who will listen, all in good fun of course. It’s my own fault
for admitting what had happened. There were no witnesses.
My plan didn’t work. I had to wake him up at 0315 instead of
0500. He didn’t mind. The amp hours were almost at 100 so we ran the engine as
we would be at anchor for a couple of days. We managed to sail almost into the
anchorage, dropping the sails and motoring into an easy space, dropping 30
metres of chain at 0425 and then tidying up. The anchorage was busy with a few
sizeable yachts but it was a huge area and the wind was light so you could
anchor more or less anywhere. It was mostly clear water over sand and the
holding was excellent. A beer was poured and everything was good in the world.
Two tired but very happy salty people went to bed. 556nm in less than a week
with a 36 hour rest in the middle. Life is good.
