Adventures on Xiphias

Having been diverted to London for a week, it was great to meet up with old friends and have an excuse for a meal and a chat. When I returned I was keen to get moving again. I quickly progressed along the coast from Cork, Kinsale, Glandore and Baltimore. That’s Baltimore, County Cork, not to be confused with the more famous American city of the same name. The winds were moderate but southwesterly requiring a lot of close hauled work. This means the sails are drawn in tight and the boat is on a constant lean. A couple of memorable instances were

• The passage between the Stags, an outcrop of rocky islets and the mainland;
• Moon rise over the entrance of Glandore bathing the islands of Adam and Eve in a silver stream.
• The open air concert at Baltimore that lulled me to sleep.
• The intricate passage through Long Island Bay to the Crookhaven.

I looked into the pretty harbour of Schull, in Long island bay but it is exposed to the south, where Met Eireann was forecasting strong southerly winds to blow. The islands in Long island are a great place and I can understand why this are is a favourite local cruising ground. I was in Crookhaven three nights waiting for the winds to abate before making the passage around Mizen head. The haven has a number of visitor buoys which I was able to pick up and secure against the come strong winds. Ashore there are two excellent pubs and a shop. The Mizen represents the furthest southerly point of Ireland and rounding it a key milestone. I learned later that a 50ft cruiser, with no one aboard, had torn her mooring and was wrecked in Crookhaven. A reminder of this is not a game for the faint hearted.

Always something going on.

I expected Cork to have an active club and was surprised just how active the Royal Cork YC is, with cruisers racing on a Wednesday and dinghies busy every day. There are no less three national champions based at the club. The Irish optimist junior champion, the Irish optimist senior champion and the British Senior champion! They are  all swimming in a great pool of talent the club has nurtured. When I visited Kinsale YC and stayed at their excellent marina I was impressed by the hive of activity here too. On the Wednesday evening there were 17 yachts in three classes thrashing around the cans. Lasers were out in force demonstrating their youthful vigour. The Irish are great ones for their sports, such a small population produces great success with rugby, sailing and soccer that it hard to believe that they compete for the attentions of the sporting folks with the national sports of Hurly and Gaelic football.

While at Cork I got into conversation with one of the officers of the club and we discussed the recession and its impact on Cork week. At its zenith there were 700 boats at Cork which is second only to Cowes week for numbers. Alas, the recession has taken its toll and this year he had 300 entries but was still pleased that it was more than other famous regattas such as Antigua at 120. The principal income is from the tented village which is erected in the huge dinghy park. The population of Cork take the opportunity to party whether they sail or not and that tradition will help sustain the event in these poor economic times.

Hand steering – all the time is no fun.

Six weeks without the autohelm, the electric arm that can steer the boat, has been getting me down. Most of the time I

can balance the sails and lash the tiller but this only works if there is a fair breeze and a smooth sea. Even then I can only afford a couple of minutes away from the helm.

This has some advantages, I don’t get distracted from the primary task of keeping a sharp look out, useful when there are 20,000 lobster pot lines on the southern Irish coast.

When motor sailing or in a swell the helm needs constant attention. In these conditions I have felt trapped because if something else needs attention I have to hold the helm and fiddle with whatever needs doing. If it’s the foresail sheets, the lines that pull the sail in, then I can just about reach. All other tasks I have to stop the boat, let her drift, see to the matter quickly, then restart sailing. Navigational checks are the obvious distraction but also putting on mooring lines and fenders is a trial. Fenders are the cylindrical plastic lozenge-shaped bumpers that protect the hull sides when coming along side.

As I have been cruising along I have been contacting folks trying to get advice on what’s wrong with the autohelm. Corporate support and distributor network didn’t solve the problem. I even did what Doctors hate us doing, I searched the internet with my symptoms and came up with a diagnosis of a cracked solder joint on the printed circuit board in the head unit.

Local network of contacts finds expert

Arriving in Cork I resolved to solve the problem. Some calling to chandlers and even manufacturers didn’t solicit any answers but the Irish approach to a problem is different to the English. The Irish will always try to leave you with something, even if they don’t have the answer themselves, they suggest someone who might. It’s a bit like a treasure hunt but just 4 calls later I was speaking to Colum who was a marine electronics service engineer. He apologised that he could only come later that afternoon as he had some things to do in the workshop. This was the most promising response I had received in two months, I was overjoyed!

At 4pm Colum came on board and we discussed the problem as he checked the settings of the autohelm and checked for the obvious problems. He tried his spare head in place of mine and yes it worked fine. More fiddling and the printed circuit board was replaced and I have a functioning autohelm again. It will make so much easier for me. So, in the final analysis, corporate support nil, local service engineer, well known in the community and willing to have a go wins the business. Thank Colum.

An exercise in planning

I had planned to get from Milford straight to Waterford but speaking to the friendly man in the Windjammer chandler’s at Milford he suggested going to Kilmore as it is the shortest hop. Back at the boat I did some serious plotting and came up with a plan to leave Milford and sail south and west and cross the traffic separation zone. These are zones that big ships are forced by law to follow at pinch points such as Lands End and in the Irish sea, there are two of interest to me. The smalls is a group of islands off the Pembroke coast where the first zone exists and the second is off Rosslare on the SE corner of Ireland. They are nuisance to yachts man for two reasons.

• They must be crossed at right angles regardless of the best course to the destination
• Yachts must not interfere, impede or otherwise bother the shipping, generally true since they are working but in separation zone legally enforced.

 

The original plan was to go early from Milford and cross the zone and then head towards Kilmore. The plan was working well until I did the tidal plot. The tide would turn against me at 1400 and this plan had the bulk of the Irish sea to cross at that time. My crew, David who had joined me at Milford to assist the crossing pointed out why not go north and then west. I liked this plan better because it enabled me to keep clear of the shipping separation zones and had the bonus of allowing a sneaky head start by anchoring at Skomer Island rather than spending the first hours of the passage plugging out of Milford.

A smooth crossing

We departed Milford at 1015 and motored out to the rolly sea. It was fine and the trip to Skomer required no serious navigation. Once into the Southern Haven the roll reduced and I was able to anchor in 6m of water. The haven  has a great many gulls, puffins and razor bills roosting and nesting on the cliffs. It was like being in an avian auditorium. Seals came and stuck their heads up to look at the interlopers. The tide ebbed and I sat worrying at the closeness of the rocks. With the flood most other boats departed leaving 3 over nighters. I hoisted my riding or anchor light and after a meal of port chops we turned in early ready for the 7am departure. About 1am there was an almighty crash, I shot out of bed, checked the anchor and other boats and all seemed well. It sounded like the rigging. The rest of the night I slept in the saloon fully clothed and checked the situation every hour. There was another crash and we concluded it must have been a bird that had flown into the rig, poor creature. 7am and we up and going heading for the South Bishop Cardinal buoy and the start of the route. The wind was light and from astern which I would normally love but with the passage requiring a steady average of 5kts we had to keep motoring. There was a pleasant interlude for a couple fo hours when we could beam reach but the wind died off again and so on we went.

A welcome to Ireland

Hours later we caught of Ireland and negotiated St Patrick’s Bridge which is a gap in a reef between an offshore island (Little Saltee) and Kilmore. The least depth is 1.5m but with half the tide we were safe enough to approach. Inside the harbour and bit of faffing around with berths and we were made very welcome by Nicky the berthing master. He was curious about why I changed berths and explained that I noticed the one I had chosen already had lines so I didn’t want to take a private berth. “Oh, you needn’t worry about that he’s not launched yet and even if he was he could go somewhere else till your gone.” A much more relaxed attitude to the matter than that experienced in a marina on the south coast of England. Kilmore is tiny place but has a seafood restaurant and pub. We met Nicky later and had a good blether about the state of things from the decline of the fishing industry to the long summer hours he puts in to make sure the boats arrive safe and are welcomed.

David left next day back to London and his niece’s christening, thankyou David, great companionship. The following day I left to Waterford and threaded my way up the winding river to the town quay. It’s a lovely town and in the sunshine everyone is out and about enjoying themselves. Next stop Dungarvan and thence Cork.

More than point and go…

As far as Falmouth I had not really been doing navigation. I would put in some way points into the GPS chart plotter

and following the prescribed route. That’s been great and when rounding some of the headlands I would cut the corner because the turbulence was not so great that such a good clearance was required. Rounding the Lizard I had to work out an appropriate time of arrival because Penzance has a sea lock to stop the water of the inner harbour draining away. The information is in the Almanac but not in a presentable form so I create a table heights and times for the local port. It’s a bit fussy but it means I can see when I have to arrive and then work backwards to the work out when I should leave.

Getting round Lands End into Padstow needed even more planning because there is nowhere else to go on the North Cornwall coast and like Penzance it has a locking inner harbour and a huge expanse of the threatening  named DOOM bar at the entrance that the pilot, now known as the voice of doom, advised should not be approached in heavy weather. To add note urgency as I approached the Padstow the coastguard repeated a gale warning Southerly Force 8. I was a bit panicky but managed to get into the harbour with two hours to spare before they shut the gate. I sat snugly has the ropes and halyards of other boats beat against the masts in the strong wind. Padstow would be my last landfall in England. Two days later I crossed the yawning jaws of the Bristol Channel with its shocking tides and no ports of refuge. The island is the only hope of shelter for boats caught in westerly gales. My passage was smooth and a light southeasterly breeze enabled me to reach across with the sails eased. Dolphins greeted me as I left the bay and again when I was 20 miles south of Milford Haven in west Wales. I don’t know why the sight of the dolphins makes me happy maybe its their carefree playfulness, whatever it is I am always glad of their company.

Now in sunny Wales I am plotting the crossing to Ireland and have been joined by friend David to assist me in the 70 miles, 16 hour passage to Kilmore, the nearest safe landfall on that coast. It’ll be great.

Starting with trepidation – leaving home waters

The strong North Westerly winds that plagued the sea trial had begun to abate when I started my passage. The first day I was tentative and only reached as far as New Town on the Isle of Wight. The auto helm, and electric arm that can steer

the boat is proving troublesome. I was determined to leave the marina but decided that plunging out without a proper plan was not the thing to do, Hence New Town. The evening gave me a chance to plan the passage to Poole or Weymouth. The big tide gate is the Needles passage. I aimed to pass through at slack water which required an early rise. This is a key milestone on the passage, leaving the Solent means the adventure is truly under way.

A lucky break

I woke super early and made myself a cooked breakfast, sandwiches for lunch and a flask of hot coffee. It was cold but clear and the wind, though strong enough for me, was F5 and northerly, the waves wore white caps. I ran out of the Solent under a reefed genoa, fore sail, alone as was sluiced west by a helpful tide. The autohelm was still dysfunctional so I hand steered all the way, skipping Poole and aimed straight for Weymouth with the good wind behind me. The visibility was fantastic and made a safe entrance Saturday afternoon while the racing boats were still rushing around. A call to the harbour master told me I could go along side town quay and there was plenty of room. My challenge then to come alongside, single handed without assistance. I tuned the boat into tide and wind slowed to a virtual standstill and crabbed sideways onto the pontoon., touch down no problem.

I stayed in Weymouth three nights waiting on the weather, the forecast was still north- easterly F5-F6 occasionally F7 but when I looked out it wasn’t so bad. The strong winds were forecast to reduce to F3 to F4 which was my cue to leave and head across the Lyme bay towards Dartmouth. Crossing Lyme bay, done by hundreds of boats each summer, marks the end of southern England and the beginning of the West Country with long-established holiday destinations. It was bumpy, cold and unpleasant but I stuck with it, again running just under a reefed genoa hand steering all the way. It was a remarkably fast passage with the tide assisting me and the visibility so clear I never lost sight of land. I was rewarded by a dozen dolphins, either common or white beaked, who came along side chasing the boat and touching the rudder. I arrived in Dartmouth well ahead of time, about 5pm. I decided to take the easiest berth which is the visitors pontoon at Kingswear, where the steam trains run in from Paignton.

The West Country

I went up the road to the Ship Inn and enjoyed several pints of Otter Ale. There were a succession of people in the pub, firstly the folks running B&Bs telling tales of their booking agents and the stupidity of the clients. Then the local handy man and the cooks from the local hotel had a competition to eating picked eggs. Errr. I tottered back to my boat and woke with a thick head. Next day I moved up river to a cheaper mooring off the village of Ditisham, full of holiday cottages and large properties overlooking the river. It is clearly a wealthy area judging by the number of builders vans and various maintenance service vans attending the houses in preparation for the season. Next day, cleaning and planning. The winds continued northerly and I was in no hurry. Thursday cam out clear and warm in the sun shine with a F3-F4 south-westerly it was time to make the short hop around the Start Point to Salcombe where I was able to pick up a mooring buoy without and problems, the sun continues to shine, what a fabulous start to the trip. As the Scots say, “If you don’t like the weather you won’t wait long for a change.” It’s raining in Salcombe on Friday, but I am tucked into the Victoria Inn with WiFi and a good pint, having bought some fresh bread and a fillet of plaice for my supper. The only niggle is the autohelm issue, which is strange since it was worked perfectly for years and was fine last season. The additional chart plotter might be route cause – more investigating is required. The boat is handling well

• The main is flying up and down having benefitted from some lubrication applied to the sail slides in the mast.
• The genoa is furling fine, brute force applied in the cockpit and will wrap itself away.
• Chart plotter is great with repeated information in the cockpit.
• Engine running sweet as a nut and the new alternator charges just fine, although I still worry about amp comsumption. Charging the lap top from boat batteries is not reasonable.