Friday, August 26, 2016

The Journey - by Elsie

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.


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