Monday, January 25, 2010

Voyage of Cayman Part 2


13th to 15th April 1999

My journey from Kefalonia back to Port Napoleon was something of an epic and is recorded briefly here.

I left Kefalonia on the 08.00 ferry from Sami to Patras, arriving about 11.00 on a very crowded journey after the Easter holidays. After some lunch and a look round the marina, I boarded the Superfast ferry at 15.00 bound for Ancona. I spent that night on the floor trying to get some sleep and the rest of the 20 hours was spent having meals or wandering round the ship. I arrived at Ancona about 13.00 the next day and made my way to the railway station. I tried to buy a ticket to Arles in France but they would only issue a ticket to the Italian/French border at Ventimiglia. After waiting a couple of hours, I boarded a train to Milan arriving around 19.00 and my connection to Ventimiglia left in just 15 minutes. This train started very crowded but by the time it had passed Genova, I had the carriage to myself. By the time the train reached the border it was about midnight and I wondered if I should look for somewhere to sleep, however, there was a French train just leaving which terminated at Cannes, so I jumped on. I didn’t have a ticket but Cannes seemed a better bet for the night. At Cannes station I was just seeking out a suitable bench at 02.00 when the station was locked up and I was shown the way onto the street. There didn’t seem to be any point in looking for a hotel at that time, since I planned to be back at the station at 06.00 so I found an old seat under a flyover to try to shelter from the rain. This was very noisy with constant traffic, so I wandered a bit further and found a spot in a multi storey car park. I made my way back to the station after 4, very uncomfortable hours and got on the first train to Arles at 06.30. This arrived at 11.00 and I then discovered that the bus to Port St Louis did not run for about 2 hours and a taxi driver wanted 200FF for the trip. The rain had stopped but it had become incredibly cold, much colder than I had expected for the South of France. I decided to start walking and after walking through the town of Arles, I made my way onto the Port St Louis road, but I was struggling in the cold with a bag over my shoulder and bags in both hands. It would have been a 20 mile walk, so I planned to hitch a lift and failing this, I could stop the bus when it caught me up. Luckily, a van driver stopped who spoke no English and my French was no better. I wondered at times if I would survive the journey, when he failed to slow down from 80 km/hr to go round the bends. I was dropped off in Port St Louis and then had a couple of miles to walk to Port Napoleon. Once on board Cayman, my first thought was to make a cup of tea, but I soon found myself unblocking the gas system. Eventually, I fell asleep on a bunk to be awoken by the arrival of Brian and Johnny Bullard at 23.00, who had travelled by air to Nice and we swopped stories of our journeys before turning in.

I had met Johnny Bullard, an old sailing friend of Brian’s, during the winter and it had generally been agreed that his assistance on the second half of the trip would be much appreciated, despite problems with catering and stowage.


16th to 22nd April

During the winter I had made an insurance claim and with some relief, the insurance company had agreed to cover the fitting of the new mast, rigging and a new Bruce anchor and chain. It seemed prudent to replace halyards and some other fittings at the same time, at my own expense. In the light of day, it became apparent that all was not well with the fitting of the new mast. The spinnaker halyard had not been led through the mast, the spinnaker pole uphaul had not been fitted, only 4 of the original mast base pulleys had been fitted and the wind speed meter was inoperative. Shackles had not been fitted to the halyards and the the spinnaker halyard, which was an expensive item, had not been replaced. On the positive side, the P-bracket had been straightened to our satisfaction. After confronting the yard manager, Nick Burton, with his estimate, he agreed that all the extra work should be done. What we didn’t appreciate was that Kevin, the yard foreman, would have to fit this in between supervising about 47 other jobs and it took the best part of a week to complete everything. Kevin also spliced the anchor warp to the new chain for 100FF, since Brian was understandably reluctant to do this after the loss of our last anchor.

During this time we all kept busy, I did some antifouling touch-ups and repainted the keel box, while Brian and Johnny replaced the static backstay with a running backstay and jammer. This system allowed much more control of mast tensioning when either running or beating. The hull was waxed and polished and Brian did some fitting and adjustment of his vane self-steering system. The new tiller, which I had fashioned from a piece of mahogany during the winter, was fitted after some final drilling. A new echo sounder was fitted and the new impellor paddle wheel was fitted, after following us round Europe last year. New clutch levers were fitted and the new engine starter motor was installed. Cayman was also craned into the water and to my amazement, the engine started immediately.

Johnny had helped out with all the jobs but he was obviously unwell, with a bronchial and ear infection, which was getting no better as we had hoped and he finally came to the decision to fly home on the 22nd. We were again faced with the prospect of two-handed sailing for the remainder of the journey.


On the move







23rd April

I settled my accounts with the captinerie and the chandlery and was pleased not to have been charged for the craning-in, but they had made some money out of us one way or another. The forecast was for a moderate south-east wind, but we felt we had been hanging around too long to delay any further and we finally left Port Napoleon at 10.30. After heading down the channel and into the Gulf du Ffos, we were faced with a southerly beat out to sea in cold and overcast conditions more reminiscent of the UK. We finally tacked east having decided that we would get no further than Friole, an island just off Marselles. We covered the last few miles in full oilskins due to the heavy rain and found a handy pontoon berth in the harbour. We wasted no time in getting below to dry out and to cook a delicious steak meal. Later in the evening the rain had stopped so we went for a walk and a couple of beers, for which we were charged an extortionate 36FF. We checked the forecast at the captinerie only to find gales forecast for the next two days and it certainly blew hard that night.

Friole
24th April

We woke to find it was still blowing a gale so no chance of sailing today. We went for a walk round the very pleasant island in dry and sunny weather but the wind was gusting to force 10. Later, we fitted a keel box support and lazy jacks and had a go at the wind speed meter wiring, which had not worked since leaving Port Napoleon.
We purchased some tired looking, frozen vegetable and beef haches for dinner and settled down to a night of much calmer conditions.

25th April

Contrary to the forecast, which predicted winds unacceptably high until afternoon, we awoke to calm conditions, so got away at 09.30. As the day progressed, a light southerly built up,
but with boat speed only 3½ to 4 knots, we ended up motor-sailing to our destination of Sanary. This turned out to be a most picturesque port and we were lucky to find a berth in the crowded harbour. We were unable to find anything but a bakery open, so ate out for once and enjoyed a most acceptable plat de jour based on veal cutlets.

26th April

A visit to the captinerie showed rising winds from the east later in the day and no better tomorrow, so we resigned ourselves to a day in harbour. Having lost the weight from the fishing line, we bought a planing device in the hope of catching some fresh fish. I ran the Yamaha 8hp outboard which seemed to be smooth enough, not having been used since the canals. Following problems with the galley pump, Brian spent much time picking out silicon after an unsuccessful attempt at installing a non-return valve. We were not making much progress and we cheered ourselves up with a substantial dinner of chilli bolognaise.

27th April

A 09.30 visit to the captinerie revealed no improvement in weather prospects and after a look round the shops we found a chandler who was offering an electric galley pump and tap for 160FF , compared with 450FF for a replacement manual pump, so this was readily snapped up.

After lunch the conditions had eased, so we made a quick decision and a hasty departure. However, it was clear that it would not be sensible to leave the shelter of the bay and we motored to Iles des Embiez, which turned out to be a most attractive but expensive marina at 109FF.

We did a brief tour of part of the island and mingled with many tourists who were on the island for day trips. On our return, I fitted the new galley pump and enjoyed the novelty of water at the flick of a switch. For dinner, at my request Brian concocted a chicken dish with cheese sauce and rice, as a departure from meat and two veg. During washing up, the new water pump failed and was remedied by tipping the water tank. We decided this was a job for tomorrow. Brian phoned his brother and Johnny Bullard, who had arrived home okay, but was still suffering from a viral infection.









Iies de Embiez


28th April

We rose around 08.00 to find a gale blowing and little chance of improvement, so we had a brief shopping trip and got down to jobs that remained. I stripped out the water tank and attendant tubing and gave it all a thorough clean. Brian got to work on the filler pipe which was responsible for the flakes in our water. This was filled with boiling water and then a rag tied to string was pulled through it. After all this work the new pump was working well again.
In the afternoon the wind had increased to force 9 and gusting to force 10 and we had concerns about snatching of the mooring warps. We decided to make use of a pair of springs which we had found discarded in a rubbish bin at Port Napoleon. These were utilized after the purchase of three large shackles and proved a great success. We
were to make use of these mooring springs on more than one occasion in the future. The island did boast a substantial boatyard facility and we were able to shape and drill a stainless steel bracket for the new autohelm, the previous one being lost during our beaching last year. I had managed to purchase a new autohelm at the boat show for a reduced cost, after the original one stopped working during the Channel crossing. By 17.30 our jobs had been completed and we went for a walk round the island, which is owned by Paul Rickard. It was nice to escape the noise of the wind screaming in the rigging of all the moored yachts. We returned to a meal of pork, carrots, courgettes and potatoes.

Gale at Iles de Embiez
29th April

We woke to much reduced winds and decided to try for Porquerolles, one of the Hyeres Islands, despite a persistent easterly wind.
We started with No 3 genoa and a reef in the mainsail but as the wind moderated the reef was shaken out and the foresail changed for No 2, the next size larger. Later, the wind strengthened again and we were making good speed , hoping to clear Cap Cecie. This was not to be and we had to put in a tack through the wind, only to spend the next few hours trying to make progress to windward. To keep as close as possible to the wind, we resorted to motor-sailing and then finally just motoring. Progress against wind and waves was painfully slow, so we resorted to the additional push of the Yamaha, until this ran out of fuel. We abandoned the plan to reach Porquerolles and headed instead for St Mandrier, across the bay from Toulon. We finally arrived at 18.30 after a miserable day, making only 22 miles progress.

We treated ourselves to a meal in town of steak, although it seemed to have had only a brief encounter with any heat and I cannot say I enjoyed it.









Porqueroles


30th April

We rose to a forecast of south to south-west but backing to variable easterly later. We could have reached Porquerolles, our intended jumping off point to Corsica, without difficulty, but would then face the prospect of possibly several days waiting for the required wind, in a place with limited facilities. We decided to stay put and get on with some more work on the boat. Brian was busy making a boom preventer out of various bits and pieces he had found, including an old extinguisher and I got on with securing the headlining in the forward cabin. Brian also tried to adjust the sail eyelets to fit the halyard shackles better, but it became clear that the shackles needed replacing with a larger size. The difference between the existing 6mm shackles and the required 8mm was a hike of 43FF and if we had realized this at Port Napoleon, we could have got the larger size fitted at no extra cost. However, this was offset by very reasonable mooring fees of just 20FF per night. While I replenished our fuel reserves and adjusted the throttle cable on the Yamaha, Brian worked on the boom preventer but soon realized that modifications were needed and this project was put on hold.

We did a major shop at the local Spar store because tomorrow was a Bank Holiday and shops would be closed. Later we had an enjoyable meal of pot roasted chicken legs, carrots, potatoes and cauliflower with a cheese sauce.

A decision was made to make further progress up the coast as far as Nice if necessary, should the current easterly wind persist. This would at least shorten the crossing to Corsica and the bearing would change from east to south-east.
While in St Mandrier, we had chatted to our next door neighbour, a guy called Jim, who was sailing single-handed through the Med in an Etap 27 called Scarlet O’Hara. Of course, I was not to know that some years later we would again, by chance, come to be moored next to each other in Poros, Kefalonia and Jim would become a friend and yearly visitor.

1st May

Brian rose before me at 07.30 for the first time in living memory and we set off with continuing easterlies with the No 1 genoa. For a while we experienced some pleasant sailing but, in a change to usual roles, I changed down to No 2 and put a reef in the mainsail as the wind increased. Then came a change down to No 3 genoa, the smallest foresail excluding the storm jib and Porquerolles became a more prudent destination, than our previously planned and more distant, La Cross. All this time we had been in the company of dozens of yachts, which had obviously erupted forth for the Bank Holiday.

The island turned out to be very attractive, but the marina was very expensive and full of visitors over on the ferry from Toulon. We enjoyed a walk, admiring the sub-tropical vegetation, to a small bay where we indulged in half an hour of
sun-bathing, while watching incoming yachts coping with sail dropping in the gusty conditions. On returning to Cayman, we again made use of the mooring springs, which proved to be a great success in providing a quiet nights mooring. I also continued my battle with the fore-cabin’s headlining.

2nd May

We left Porquerolles with a stiff easterly still blowing, bound for Cavalaire. With the No 3 genoa we were making an exhilarating 6 knots without the mainsail, so we stayed with this for a while. Again, we found ourselves sharing the channel between the mainland and the Hyeres Islands with many other yachts out for the Bank Holiday Sunday. By mid afternoon, after many sail changes, we revised our destination to Le Lavendou which was within easy striking distance, whereas Cavalaire was another 3 hours of hard beating.

We were given a berth well into the marina and right next to shops and other facilities. We even had a phone box next to the mooring! After treating ourselves to a 30FF bag of Churos (a kind of sugary pastry), we cooked a bolognaise and pasta, which proved almost too much to manage. We went to bed with full stomachs and a depressing forecast of heavy rain and F8 winds.
3rd May

Having made up our minds that we were not going anywhere, we got up late and got on with some jobs. Brian repaired the genoa clutch lever which had failed the previous day and I repaired the chart table which had accidentally been forced down and become damaged.

After lunch the rain started and Brian got on with shaping a block for the auto- helm bracket. During a spell of lighter rain we went into town to get some shopping, only to be caught in heavy rain on the way back and we reached the boat absolutely drenched. We enjoyed a rather successful meal of leftover vegetables together with mince and rice.

Brian had commitments in the UK in June and was now becoming rather pessimistic of reaching Kefalonia by the end of May, due to all the time we were losing.

4th May

Another day of rain which got heavier as the day went on. Brian did manage to put an extension piece in the foresail track, which we felt Port Napoleon had not replaced correctly and early photographs confirmed this. I managed to do some varnishing, but we were running short of jobs that could be done in the cabin, out of the rain. When the rain failed to ease off, we came to the conclusion that we had to make a visit to the supermarket and were resigned to getting wet. We stopped for a beer in the hope that the rain would ease but had to make a run for it, only to get soaked for the second time in 24 hours.

We had a light meal of soup and cauliflower cheese, having had a hot meal at lunchtime. At long last, the forecast for tomorrow was for westerly winds and we turned in early in anticipation of an early start on the leg to Corsica.

5th May

After rising early at 06.00, we set off with a following wind and goose-winged the mainsail and No 1 genoa. By 08.30 the wind had backed to south-west and the mainsail was jibed to port. I engaged the autohelm so that I could go and listen to the weather forecast on channel 80, a novel experience because we had not had the new autohelm working before.

At 14.45 we sighted a yacht a few miles to our north and Brian made contact on the radio. Her French skipper spoke excellent English and was able to confirm tomorrow’s forecast was south to south-east F3. The situation was rather embarrassing after he asked for our call sign and neither of us knew what it was, having just used the name ‘Cayman’ in the past. After checking my license, Brian called him back to confirm it was MYY 12, so that the French skipper could enter the sighting in his log. A little later, while listening to the Italian forecast on channel 68, a gale warning was given for the Ligurian Sea and we hoped this stayed well to the north of us, since there was no hiding place.

Our first cooked meals on passage, consisted of cup-a-soups prepared by Brian and a vegetarian bolognaise prepared by myself. As the evening drew on, our southerly F4-5 persisted and we creamed along at 6 knots. In view of the consistent wind, we decided to leave the No1 genoa up during the night.

6th May

Brian took the first watch from midnight to 03.00. With full sail it seemed more like a speedboat leaving a trail of phosphorescence in our wake. Brian’s watch started with a clear sky and he was able to steer with Cassiopeia on the port beam, but after getting my head down for just 20 minutes, I was called up to the cockpit. He was concerned by a light which kept a worryingly constant angle on our starboard bow. A constant angle indicates a possible collision course, but at last the angle began to open and a super tanker passed within 400 yards. Later, I was again woken when Brian asked me to switch on the deck lights to make us more visible, because of a light off our bow. When I got on deck, I pointed out to Brian that he was looking at the rising moon!

I took over the watch at 03.00 and had an uneventful but exciting sail until 05.30 when the wind that had carried us so far began to ease and left us with about 17 miles to motor to the tantalizingly visible Cap Corse, at the northern tip of Corsica. Once round the Cape we still had a further 5 miles into the port of Macinaggio. We entered the port at 15.30, having taken 10 hours to crawl these last few miles while the previous 135 miles had been covered in just 23 hours.


Macinaggio, Corsica

As soon as we arrived, Brian dragged me off the boat for a beer when all I wanted was to sleep. After a bit of shopping, I got my much deserved sleep while Brian did some work on the self-steering vane.

We had an enjoyable steak meal, after which I did some re-fuelling and pumped out the bilges, while Brian went off for a walk round the port to look at boats.









Cayman at Macinaggino


7th May

I got up at 07.00 to find a light south-east blowing. I had a cold shower, for which I had to pay 10FF, so I warned Brian not to bother. We left port at 10.15 and beat south along the coast until the wind died and we were forced to gather in the sails. In a sea that looked like a mill pond, we motored on a bearing of 110° towards the island of Elba, our destination being the harbour in the Golfo de Campo. Without much else to do, we fixed a rope and shock cord to the tiller and managed to get a reasonable set-up that looked after itself, with a small adjustment about every 5 minutes. Brian did some more work on the wind vane steering and fitted a cleat to the mast to tidy the lazy jacks. We also ceremoniously lowered the very tattered French flag and raised a new Italian one. A courtesy flag for the currently visited country is flown on the starboard side of the crosstrees.

Soon after sighting Elba, we were able to raise the No 1 genoa but the wind was soon on the nose so it came down again. The last few miles were painfully slow and we had to abandon our intended destination in favour of a small bay at Fetovaia. We entered the sheltered bay and with the keel raised, ran straight up to the beach, much to the surprise of some moored yachts nearby. We found ourselves in the company of some Brits on a catamaran which was bound for the UK.

We went ashore and after a walk round the village, found a hotel where two Becks beers cost us 12,000 lire (about £5), our most expensive beer yet. We returned to the boat for a simple but ample meal of Chilli Con Carne and rice and turned in early.

Isola Elba
8th May

I was awoken at 06.00 by the thump of the bow hitting the beach. Overnight a slight swell had got up and the ronde anchors on the beach had pulled out. We pulled the boat back on the kedge and re-secured the ronde anchors and then went back to bed for an hour. On leaving the bay at 08.30, we managed to foul the prop on a mooring line and I had an early swim to disentangle it. Our intention was to head for the Italian mainland due east, because the wind would not allow a more southerly course.

We followed the south coast of Elba for about 5 miles when there was a loud bang and I immediately realized that the forestay had parted from the mast. There was a danger that the mast could come down, so I steered to a course with the wind behind us to avoid any extra strain on the mast. We tensioned the second halyard to act as a temporary forestay, carefully lowered the forestay complete with sail and secured it along the length of the safety rail. Luckily, this had happened when we were within sight of Golfo di Campo and we limped into port to work out what had happened. Once moored safely to the harbour wall, we removed the sail, re-hoisted the forestay and I winched Brian up the mast, he being the lighter of the two of us. Once at the top, Brian discovered a retaining pin half way out, distortion in the retaining plates and no sign of a securing split pin. I hoisted the small vice up the mast with the main halyard and Brian used this to squeeze the retaining plates back into place. After nearly an hour of working in an extremely uncomfortable position at the mast top and with the boat swaying in the swell, Brian had managed to secure the forestay pin with a new split-pin. Another problem we had discovered earlier, was that the engine battery was flat, so hand starting had been necessary and there was no charging facility in the harbour.

We went shopping for supplies and also managed to buy phone cards so that we could make phone calls home to report progress. Some time was spent composing a letter to Nick Burton at Port Napoleon, to complain about the shoddy workmanship in either leaving out a vital split pin, or not splaying the ends, which could have led to a catastrophic failure of the mast and rigging. We had a meal of pork cutlets and also made further use of the mooring springs, to try to ease the motion caused by the considerable swell in the harbour.

9th May

After a creaky night we discovered that two of the mooring lines had frayed on the harbour wall and the damaged section would have to be cut out. We set off at 09.00 to cover a relatively short distance to Castiglione on the Italian mainland, because the wind would only allow us to make a heading of 080°. Up to F6 winds were forecast and we raised the No2 genoa to enjoy some good sailing once clear of the coast of Elba. However, the wind died away and we reverted to motor-sailing to maintain a reasonable speed. Brian tried out his vane steering but with disappointing results in the light wind and was resigned to making further adjustments.

On arrival at Castiglione yacht basin, we were directed with great efficiency to a space between other yachts, with barely 6 inches to spare. We went in stern first which required some accurate manoeuvring, something Cayman was not very good at doing. Without a gangplank, this required some acrobatics to get ashore.

We walked into town, but because it was Sunday, were unable to purchase either meat or margarine, but we did manage to get some salami for dinner. We were able to get some welcome charge into the batteries at the mooring, but there were no shower facilities.

10th May

The day dawned sunny with a light westerly which would allow us to make a heading of 160° down the coast. Before leaving at 10.00, Brian tried unsuccessfully to get a shower at a local hotel, while I replaced a faulty switch on the galley pump. After leaving the marina, we had to negotiate a short length of canal before entering the sea. I kept over to starboard, this being the ‘rule of the road’, but unfortunately I found a shallow area. We came to an abrupt stop which almost sent Brian headfirst into the cabin. We managed to reverse off without difficulty even with the keel still lowered and headed for the other side of the canal, as directed by a fisherman on the bank.

We started by motor-sailing with main and No1, but by late morning the wind had strengthened and we were able to switch off the engine and maintain 4 knots.
At 14.00 we listened to channel 68, which gives a forecast in Italian and English 24 hours a day. We had to make a decision whether to put into Port Ercole or continue through the night, but with a forecast F3 south-east, we decided on the former. We enjoyed an excellent afternoon of sailing in F4 westerlies, but the wind died with some 14 miles still to go.

Instead of a late afternoon arrival, we ended up berthing shortly after 21.00. A look round the marina revealed no showers or toilets but we did manage to purchase some wine and beer. The forecast for tomorrow was F3 north-east, so we turned in with the hope of some decent sailing.

11th May

The day dawned sunny with a light southerly breeze, however, the harbour office was closed, the showers still locked and the fuel pontoon was unmanned. Brian suggested we motor the short distance to the adjacent marina of Cala di Galera. This turned out to be an impressive place where we filled up with fuel, had excellent hot showers and used an air line to pump up all our fenders. We had previously ruled this out as an overnight stop due to the high charges suggested in the Italian Pilot.

We finally set off close hauled on No2 and a bearing of 125° bound for Civitivechia. By 11.30 our boat speed had dropped to 3 knots so we changed up to No1 genoa with a very efficient sail change, helped by the third crew member, Albert the auto-helm. By 15.40 we had made 25 miles and were making 5½ to 6 knots, so we decided to carry on to the next port of Santa Marinella and we secured a bottle of beer over the stern, to toast our arrival with chilled beer. However, the wind backed and it was decided that tacking to the new destination would mean a late arrival, so back to the original plan.

Civitivechia is the main port for Rome and the harbour turned out to be very intimidating for a small yacht, having to avoid the manoeuvring of no less than three very large ferries. We finally tied up in the inner harbour at 18.30 with the help of the local omeggliatori (a co-operative that leases the moorings).

A visit to the very busy town found all our needs except fruit and veg. A steak meal washed down with plenty of wine, went down very well, on returning to the boat.

12th May

We woke early, but without being disturbed by the departure of some three dozen trawlers, as had been expected. We were away early at 08.00 with No1 genoa, but then found we could not clear the headland 5 miles to the south, in the unfavourable southerly wind.

With the wind against us, we had only made 6 miles by midday, so abandoned the plan to reach Fiumicino and headed into Santa Marinella. With the afternoon on our hands, I got down to a bilge cleanout while Brian repaired the leech-line adjusters on genoas 1 and 2. A visit into town revealed a larger place than expected and after much searching we found a supermarket which did not open until 19.00, so we went for beer while we waited. We were joined by a friendly Dutch lady, who we had first met in the harbour and we had a interesting conversation about our trip and about what she was doing in Italy. She was an artist and we were shown her modernistic artwork which she had with her and was trying to sell to book publishers.

After a major shop at the supermarket, I rang Sheila to ask her to fax a copy of the boat insurance, which I had inadvertently left behind. This was the first marina that had asked for this documentation, although they usually asked to see the registration certificate.

Brian cooked an excellent chicken stir fry and we went to bed with a good south-west blowing, promising better mileage tomorrow.

13th May

We got away at 08.15 but the forecast southwest F3 was more like F2. This backed to south and was on the nose so we took the sails down and continued to motor. By 10.00 the wind now veered and we raised No 1 genoa. About this time our peace was shattered by the arrival of a RIB, the occupants of which, told us we were in a firing zone and were in danger of being sunk! We immediately tacked seaward to get the required 6 miles clearance, but had to motor-sail to make any progress. As soon as we were 6 miles from the coast we turned south and made an excellent 5 knots. While Brian had a snooze, I took the helm and passed through some large anchored oil drums and it crossed my mind that these may have been targets for the firing range!

About mid-afternoon we were joined by a finch, who sat on the companionway hatch, no doubt resting for the 6 mile journey back to land. We soon passed the oil tanks and platforms associated with the port of Fiumicino and given the good progress we considered the possibility of sailing through the night, so at 18.30 Brian cooked a stir fry. After dinner, the wind had dropped and we motored for about an hour, but then the breeze freshened and we sailed on into the gathering dusk. Later in the evening, the wind again died and we motored once more leaving a phosphorescent trail behind us. The nearest port was Anzio, so it was decided this was a better option, than to have to keep motoring. This was the first time we had attempted to go into a port in darkness and the Italian Pilot warned of shallows off the headland and the hazard of the Roman harbour of Tiberius. We continued in a wide arc until the harbour lights gave the correct transit bearing for safe entry. We managed to clear a shallow sand bar at the entrance, but it was rather worrying when the echo sounder showed a clearance of less than a metre. Anzio was the location of a famous 2nd world war battle as well as being an important Roman port.

We tied up at 02.00 and made Cayman secure to a ramshackle pontoon. In stepping off the boat, Brian dropped his Italian adapter plug into the water and, in his tired state, became extremely upset.

14th May

Brian woke early, unusually beating me
to make a cup of tea. His first task was to dive for his lost adapter and I was very surprised when he surfaced with it from the muddy bottom. A stiff south-easterly had established itself with a heavy swell out to sea, so another day’s progress would be lost.

We had a successful shopping trip and managed to purchase some materials to modify the mainsheet traveller. After a beans on toast lunch, we did a tour of the Roman harbour and also found somewhere that would receive a fax of the boat insurance, because we had been unable to arrange this at the last port of call.

During the day, we had managed to trip the power supply to the jetty, when our power line had parted and the live end had dropped into the sea. It was decided that we couldn’t risk this happening again, so a new 10 metres length of cable was purchased. Dinner was a mince, veg and pasta creation by Brian, after which, I went to collect my fax.

15th May

We were up and away by 08.00 but with no wind, we motored until 11.00 and while Brian was sleeping, I set the mainsail in response to a light breeze. Brian appeared from below, to raise the No 1 genoa and the wind continued to strengthen to the point where we thought we might get a night passage to Isola Ischia. By lunchtime the wind had increased still further until it was necessary to reduce sail to No 2 and a reef in the main. However, the wind direction would not allow us to clear Point di Circeo and we had to put a couple of tacks in, which considerably slowed our progress.

Brian was still complaining about the small scale chart, which had no indication of major landmarks, in particular a 1700 feet mini volcano which we had to navigate round. I had to agree that this should have been shown, but I had made a decision to use small scale charts in conjunction with the excellent Italian Pilot, to save considerable expense. Also, I had anticipated doing longer passages out to sea, with the help of a crew of three, rather than hugging the coast as we had been doing.

Brian spent much of the day fashioning a device out of plywood, to automatically lead the foresail into the luff track. We had seen such a thing made of plastic in a chandlers, but thought £10 was a bit steep for a piece of plastic. A test seemed to prove that it worked well and Brian was quite pleased that his time had been well spent.

By the time we cleared the point, the wind had died, so we motored into the marina at Circeo at 17.30 and moored the boat with the assistance of an omeggliatori, who boarded us and took charge.

We walked up a steep hill to find a charming town, with breathtaking views over the surrounding coastline. We had some delicious ice cream, did some shopping and then stopped for a beer in a restaurant, where we met three English people. They lived and worked in Rome and we spent an interesting half an hour in conversation. We had been unable to buy any meat, so on our return to the boat, we settled for tinned beef and potatoes.

We were disappointed that there were no showers at the marina, although the Pilot had indicated that there was. Brian continued his deliberations on modifications for the vane steering and came to the conclusion that the cord control lines should be replaced by a cycle brake cable, to give more precise control.

16th May

We got away by 08.00 with no wind, so had to motor for an hour. Then a light north-easterly justified raising the mainsail and No 1, but with the wind from the stern remaining steady,

it was decided to raise the spinnaker. This gave some refreshing sailing at 6 to 7 knots until 13.00, when it became too hard to handle in the freshening wind. As soon as it was put away we had to put a reef in the main and continued with this set-up, giving 5 to 6 knots while we had lunch. We continued on a bearing of 130° toward Ischia and again raised the spinnaker for about 30 minutes, until I decided that it needed too much concentration to avoid it wrapping round the forestay.

By 18.00, Cassamicciola on Isola Ischia was just 7 miles away, when the wind died, as usual when a port was in sight! We finally motored in, to tie up at 20.00, after being ushered away from our original choice of mooring. In doing so, we inadvertently went between some marker buoys which marked shallow water and we found ourselves temporarily aground, until we found the deeper water.








Isola Ischia



The town was full of crazy Italian drivers and almost immediately we witnessed an accident when a scooter rider and passenger were hit by a car, not to mention several other close shaves. It was Sunday, so the shops were closed, but we found a promising supermarket to visit the next day. We contemplated a meal ashore, but could not understand the menu boards outside restaurants, so we opted for tinned chicken and veg on board. I went to bed early, but Brian went off to phone his brother and also managed to find some showers.

17th May

After I had a shower and we re-provisioned at the excellent supermarket, we set off with a light south-easterly. The breeze showed no sign of freshening, so we motored the 17 miles to Capri in a mind-numbing 7 hours.

approaching Isola Capri


On arrival we were directed to a berth which suffered wash from the frequent Approaching Isola Capri ferry traffic and also we didn’t have an adapter for the large, heavy duty electric socket. I presented myself at the port office and was asked for 40,000 lire (about £14) and I was annoyed that we were charged so much for such a poor berth. We looked at other available berths in the harbour and found better shelter, close to showers and toilets and with the right size sockets. We pointed this out, quite forcefully, to the officials and they agreed, rather reluctantly I thought, that we could move.

By now it was 18.30 and there was just enough time to catch the funicular railway up to the main town. The town was barred to traffic and was a virtual maze of alleyways, shops and picturesque houses. The high location also gave excellent views over the island, the harbour and the surrounding sea.

We followed the alleyways to see the south side of the island, but Brian became totally disorientated and took considerable convincing that we were looking south and not north. We returned along more alleyways and steps to the harbour and cooked an excellent meal consisting of thick vegetable soup, followed by roast chicken with roast and boiled potatoes, carrots and cauliflower, followed by fresh strawberries we had bought in the town.

18th May

We woke to an unpromising forecast and gusty winds, so elected to stay put for the day. I got down to checking the impellor and scrubbing the deck while Brian went to hand wash his sleeping bag.

We then decided to explore the amazing footpath up the cliff face to Ana Capri. This consisted of hundreds of steps and gave some excellent views over the island and sea. We mingled with crowds of tourists and had a lunch of pizza and a beer. My souvenir of the island was a waste bin for the cabin, to replace the carrier bags we had used until now and we also bought some steak for dinner.








The harbour from Ana Capri


Near the harbour we found a scooter shop and managed to purchase a brake cable which Brian considered to be ideal for the vane steering, its’ main attraction being a solid inner wire, which would both push and pull.










Capri Harbour

We cooked our steak together with vegetables and finished off with the rest of the strawberries.

19th May

We set off at 08.30 on a bearing of 110° bound for Agripoli. The forecast was for F4 south-east and we raised the sails in response to a breath of wind from astern. This proved to be short lived and the sails went up and down like a yo-yo. The engine battery was low and insufficient to turn the engine so Brian volunteered to start it on the handle. Having not quite mastered the technique, he managed to sprain his thumb in the process.

I was puzzled by our continued northerly track each time I checked the GPS position and we came to the conclusion this was the result of a 0.5 knot current following the Italian coastline. We also had to make allowance for a 1½° E magnetic variation which had been zero when we were in the South of France.

We reached Agripoli at 19.30 in dull conditions and rain threatening, after spending 9 hours of the day with the engine running. While I got on with investigating the starter fault and preparing the soup (not at the same time), Brian went for a walk into town. On his return we had a mince and veg dinner, after which we both went into town and found some decent supermarkets and numerous other useful shops. Brian stopped on the way back to phone his brother, so I went back to the boat to do the washing up and I also managed to trace the starter fault to an arcing HT lead.

20th May

The immediate forecast was for F5 wind and strengthening, so we were not going anywhere today. We decided to visit the ancient Greek settlement of Paestrum, but by the time we had found the bus stop, we had missed the bus and the next was not due until 13.00. We did some shopping and purchased vegetables and meat at an excellent market. It had occurred to me that Port Napoleon had not replaced the stay protectors, so we set about finding some ducting that could be used, but without success.
Paestrum



After a lunch of beans on toast, Brian got on with making fittings for the wind vane steering while I went into town to try to track down a converter for the gas regulator so that we could convert to Italian gas. I had brought three Calor gas cylinders from the UK, two of which had now been used and disposed of. We calculated that the last cylinder could run out before reaching Greece. After considerable searching, I found a gas supplier, but was forced to purchase both a new cylinder and a new regulator. Meanwhile, Brian had made friends with a British couple, John and June, who were bound for Corfu in their 28 foot Westerly, called Gentle Breeze.

Brian produced an excellent pot roasted rolled steak joint with potatoes, carrots and gravy followed by melon swamped in sugar. The disappointment of the evening was continuing high winds forecast for tomorrow.

21st May

We were up by 08.00 to be faced with a westerly F6 and a gale warning, so we had to find something to occupy us today. We breakfasted to the sound of torrential rain but this soon cleared and it was decided that we would visit Paestrum today. We caught the 10.45 bus in the company of a German group of sailors who had berthed nearby, the previous evening.

The site, said to be the finest of its kind in Italy, comprised three temples, an amphitheatre and numerous other remains spread over a vast area. We latched onto a guided group, but when Brian asked a question we were firmly informed that this was an exclusive group and we were not welcome, so we continued alone.

We returned on the 13.00 bus to lunch on board, after which I started to fit some stay protectors, while Brian fitted parts of his vane steering to the rudder. Later, I remembered that I had intended to move to a cheaper mooring on the harbour wall and Brian had to remove the parts that he had fitted so that we could use the rudder. However, on inspection of the mooring we realized that it was subject to heavy swell, so it was agreed to stay put, despite a charge of 30,000 lire (about £10).

We had a mince, mixed veg and pasta meal and started on a new flagon of wine, which I had purchased in the afternoon.

22nd May

After a night of thunderstorms, we woke to a forecast of F5+ winds, so yet another frustrating day would be lost. Brian managed to borrow a jigsaw (not the cardboard kind) from an American neighbour and a lightning visit to town produced some stainless steel screws for the finishing touches to the cable operated vane steering. We also bought some steak for today’s dinner.

The heavens opened later in the morning and we were confined to the shelter of the cabin. After our usual lunch of bread, cheese and boiled egg, we visited our Westerly neighbours for a convivial chat over a beer or two. They were planning to leave their boat, in Corfu for the winter and then work south to other Greek islands next year, so we exchanged telephone numbers in case they visited Kefalonia. When the sun came out, Brian was able to complete the fitting of the vane steering and was optimistic of a successful trial when we had the opportunity.

We then took up the invitation of Alastair and Annabel, the professional skipper and partner of a sumptuous 63 foot yacht called Nesaii, with all the mod cons one could think of. We had drinks and nibbles in the enormous cockpit in the company of an American couple from a 45 foot, steel-hulled Nantucket and a second American couple, the wife specializing in weather forecasts using SSB radio.
There followed an interesting exchange of reminiscences from folk who had sailed
the world, the Nantucket being three quarters of the way into a circumnavigation. We felt suitably humbled.

Knowing our limited facilities and the lack of showers in the marina, Alastair was kind enough to allow us the use of a shower on board, a choice of four en-suite!
We then provided him with information on the ports we had visited to the north, as he explained, with such a large vessel it is wise to do some forward planning. He also did a hard sell on persuading us to visit Pompei with some enticing photographs, but with a fair forecast for tomorrow, we couldn’t linger any longer. We finally left the spacious comfort to cook a steak dinner in more confined conditions.










Alastair & Anabel aboard Nesaii


23rd May

At last, the forecast was set fair with a westerly F3, as we followed John and June in their Westerly Merlin out of the harbour. They quickly got a mile between us, as we put up No 2 and had a reef in the main, in the fresh breeze. We stayed on channel 6 to keep in radio contact, but by the afternoon we were too far apart for acceptable reception.

As the wind eased, our sail changes were reef out, No 1 up and then spinnaker for most of the afternoon. We also ran the engine to keep up a speed of 5 knots. During the afternoon, we had a sharp shower after the sky clouded over and the spinnaker came down in anticipation of a wind increase. We carried on for a while with mainsail only until the rain eased and then raised No 2, which gave us some exciting sailing until the gunwhale dipped into the water and we dropped the main. We continued with genoa only, but still managed 5+ knots.

Eventually, we turned towards Scario and into the wind, so continued on motor only, to berth alongside Gentle Breeze at 19.30 having covered a good 50 miles. John and June had arrived some 1½ hours earlier, although it has to be said that Gentle Breeze was fitted with a 18hp diesel compared with our 7hp. We had a chicken dinner out of a tin and turned in early in anticipation of a big push south tomorrow.



Cayman and Gentle Breeze at Scario






24th May

We set off before 08.00 in hot pursuit of John and June, bound for Centraro, 37 miles on a bearing of 126°. Once clear of the harbour we found the forecast of north-west F4 was currently south F1, so after optimistically raising the sails, they were brought down again and we carried on under engine only.

At 12.15 boredom was relieved by a school of pilot whales, the first of which I had mistaken for a passing log. We had not had the opportunity to restock the galley, so lunch consisted of stale bread and cheese, well past it’s sell-by date. While I was on the helm, Brian passed the time cleaning the galley area and other small jobs. We were able to motor-sail during the day but by 14.30 the wind had died away and we were reduced to motoring again with 15 miles still to cover.
We had decided to curtail our radio watch with Gentle Breeze, when Brian had read in the manual that full gain on ‘receive’ was consuming 0.8 amps. We had not been able to get a battery charge last night and there was little prospect for tonight, so we couldn’t risk any more battery drain.

Since we had little to do, we were able to admire the spectacular coastline with a mountain range as a backdrop, rising to a peak of 1,780 metres (5,838 feet). During the afternoon, still motoring, Brian got so bored that he prepared the potatoes and runner beans for this evening’s dinner.

We eventually arrived in Centraro at 19.30 some 2 hours after Gentle Breeze. Brian immediately went to the shops and managed to get some pork chops but the mini-market was closed, so no bread or fruit for this evening or lunch tomorrow. Brian noticed that the polypropylene rope holding our stern to the kedge anchor was floating on the surface and he resolved to find something less vulnerable.

25th May

Brian rose at 04.30 and got the kettle on, while I followed a short time later. After breakfast we got the boat prepared for an early getaway. Not surprisingly, we were the first to leave the harbour at 05.20 and we were greeted by a moderate easterly breeze, so we raised the No 1 genoa but continued to motor. While I was on the helm, Brian busied himself with stowing the kedge anchor, adjusting the bolt on the cabin door and doing the washing up. This took us up to 08.30 with 10 miles on the log, when Gentle Breeze caught us up with their superior engine power. We called them on the radio and agreed that we would have to come off radio watch, having had no battery charge for two days. It was agreed that our destination would be Vibo Valentia.

We continued on a heading of 164° and after lunch Brian took the helm with a freshening wind that allowed us to turn off the engine for the first time in two days. There followed some excellent sailing on a broad reach with boat speed up to 6 knots. We finally arrived at Vibo Valentia at 18.00 with two rival pontoons beckoning us in. We settled on the one where John was berthed and were welcomed by very helpful marina staff.

Brian’s priority was to visit the shops while I tidied the boat. On his return, he had to be winched up the mast again to tighten a loose radio antenna. All that was needed was to tighten a retaining screw, but another black mark for Port Napoleon. We were able to get a shower and I did some clothes washing by hand in a sink. I cooked a cod, veg and rice meal and after clearing up we got to bed following a good day, having covered 60 miles.

26th May

After some shopping and topping up the diesel, we cast off at a leisurely 10.00. We started well, on a beat for the first headland with No 1, but it became clear that we wouldn’t make it, so we were faced with motoring into the wind. While we had no sailing advantage, Gentle Breeze caught us up and proceeded to disappear over the horizon.











Tropea


Having done some shopping earlier, lunch was back to our usual bread, cheese, hard boiled egg and fruit. We passed Tropea, a beautiful little town perched on top of a rocky cliff.
By 14.30 we had come round onto a heading due south, so were able to hoist the No 1 genoa and motor sail at 4 to 5 knots. We rounded Ponta Valicana at 15.30 with a light wind from the north-west, so the sails came down and we hoisted the spinnaker, which carried us along at a relaxing 4 knots. Brian did some sunbathing on the foredeck and we treated ourselves to some peanuts washed down with beer cooled in the sea.
Spinaker

It was a surprise to see Gentle Breeze, who was struggling in the
‘gentle breeze’ with a goose-wing set-up and we actually started catching her, but as usual, the wind died away by 18.00 and we spent the next 2½ hours motoring into Bagnara Calabra.

Dinner was a mince, mixed veg and pasta concoction garnished with a little jar of chilli peppers in oil, which had been a present from the marina at Vibo Valentia. The result was about as hot as a vindaloo curry and needed copious amounts of Italian wine to wash it down. Having berthed in a fishing harbour, Gentle Breeze being the only other yacht, we hoped that we wouldn’t be disturbed by the fishing boats all around us, when they went out early in the morning.


27th May

Brian was up at 07.00, having been woken by the fishing boats from 04.00 but I had slept through the noise. We were away by 07.45 and as we left I realized that the strange looking boats we had seen the day before were, in fact, sword fishing
boats. These strange looking craft had a lookout platform at the top of a high mast and an enormous bowsprit almost twice the length of the boat. We assumed someone keeps a watch from the lookout platform and a man on the end of the bowsprit spears the fish as the boat passes over it.

No wind, so we motored toward the Strait of Mesina keeping to the Italian mainland coast. There is a traffic separation scheme within the Strait but this was for larger craft and we had been advised by Alastair to keep to the mainland side. There is also a tidal flow through the Strait which can result in a current of up to 6 knots and this produces eddies and very disturbed water. If we picked the wrong time to go through, we could actually end up going backwards! We knew the times based on high water at Gibraltar, but wherever we had been, we had been unable to obtain the high water times, so this was something of a gamble.
Approaching the Strait of Mesina

As it was, we were carried through with the current at what seemed to be a high speed, judging by passing scenery. The boat’s log only told us speed through the water and not speed over the
ground. The Strait was a stressful experience and I worried about our poor engine power as we were carried along by the current, trying to avoid the whirlpools around us. On top of this we had to keep a lookout and dodge the frequent large ferries between Reggio di Calabria and Messina.

Just before Reggio, a light north-westerly sprang up and we were able to raise the spinnaker, but this only lasted an hour or so, when the wind backed to the beam and the spinnaker had to come down.

One other worry I had was the inability to get a GPS fix for the last couple of days. I suspected that the U.S. military had de-sensitized the GPS satellites while the Bosnian crisis persisted. While we had been following the coast and able to spot landmarks this didn’t matter, but it was a concern that we would have great difficulty crossing the Ionian Sea. We started to consider using the RDF (radio direction finder) to locate radio stations, but we only knew the theory and had not tried it in practice.

By 12.00 the wind had come round to southerly, so the spinnaker was packed away and No 1 genoa hanked on, ready for a change of course round the ‘toe’ of Italy to Saline Jorniche. At 14.00, after Brian had been busy looking up the RDF beacon locations and morse codes, I had another look at the GPS and managed to get a country screen. This showed that the default country was Afganistan, so maybe this was the reason for the problem. After setting it on Italy, it was back to its old self, much to our relief.

With just 4 miles to go, the wind was insufficient to hoist No 1, so we continued on motor and mainsail. About this time, Gentle Breeze appeared to our stern and gained on us steadily. By the time we reached the harbour, it became a neck and neck race round the harbour wall, with Brian pretending to fight them off with the boathook. After mooring up, Brian went for a swim in the clear water, while I changed the engine oil ready for the Ionian. I must have drawn the short straw!

Our walk into the local village proved to be something of an epic, since it was much further than the 2 km mentioned in the Italian Pilot. On the far side of the harbour we stopped to chat to a Dutch couple in their yacht. We asked why they had moored away from the facilities and were told that they didn’t trust the marina operators. In fact, the marina had been built with EEC funds but never properly finished because all the officials involved had embezzled cash and were serving jail terms! We were short of cash, so we had to borrow 2000 lire from John, who we met in the village shop. There was no bank, so I was forced to jog 5 kms to the next town and then back, to get money from a cash point, to be able to buy fuel. Having walked and jogged about 18 kms in hot weather, I looked forward to a shower on my return. Unfortunately, both showers and toilets were locked and I had to settle for a swim to cool down.

Over a cup of tea, we had a pleasant chat with John until he succumbed to the mosquitoes and then we settled for a simple meal of tinned beef and rice. I was anxious to phone Sheila because we were likely to be at sea for the next three days. But neither of us had enough units left on our phone cards to make an international call.

Brian realized that his camera was missing and we turned the boat upside down looking for it and he was still looking when I went to bed. Earlier, while I was sat in the cockpit, three guys had walked along the pontoon past the boat. We had exchanged greetings and they wished us a good trip to Greece and I just assumed that John had told them our destination. All was to become clear later.

28th May

Brian was up at 06.00 and began another search for his camera and I later did a complete search of the forward cabin. We couldn’t bring ourselves to accept that it had been stolen because other items of value, such as the GPS, were clearly visible and hadn’t been touched.

We were anxious to get away but desperately needed diesel from the fuel pump at the end of the quay which was locked. I found out who was responsible and went off to find him in a nearby factory. The factory, like the harbour, was unused and unfinished and I got the feeling that this whole enterprise was not a great success story for the Italian government. I eventually got the diesel cans topped up and managed to phone Sheila, after discovering that the phone would take coins.

We said our goodbyes to John and June and motored out of the harbour at 10.00 to be confronted by an easterly breeze bang on the nose, so it was motoring at a leisurely 4 knots. Brian got some sleep in the morning, having had a bad night worrying about his camera. The sea was like a millpond, so I lashed the tiller so that I could leave it for brief periods to relieve the boredom. I didn’t dare use the autohelm because battery power would have to be reserved for navigation lights at night.

Brian prepared dinner early and we had an enjoyable Mexican chilli with veg, eaten at the table in the cockpit, as the last of the Italian coast slipped away. We had followed the coast all day but now on a bearing of 90°, we headed for an empty sea.

Brian took the 22.00 to 02.00 watch and I was to do 02.00 to 06.00. I had got my head down for about an hour when Brian called me on deck to see a school of about a dozen dolphins, which were all around us. Unfortunately, it was too dark for any photographs, but we watched in awe for some time until they disappeared as quickly as they had arrived. It seemed that I had just got to sleep when Brian called me on deck again to see a UFO! He described a bright light which flashed rhythmically and moved so fast that it’s change of position was almost instantaneous. I must admit that I didn’t see anything, being half asleep. We later realized that what Brian had seen must have seen was the flashing light of an aircraft and it’s change of position could be explained by the motion of the boat, without any other objects to relate to.

Once back in my berth, I was kept awake by the sound of Brian walking up and down the deck. I couldn’t understand what he was doing but by that stage, I didn’t care to know. It seems that the dolphins had returned and Brian was having to walk from the bows every five minutes or so, to put the tiller back on track.

Compared with Brian’s, my watch was fairly uneventful, although the dolphins returned briefly at 05.30. Brian failed to appear at 06.00 so I left him to sleep for another hour. During this time an aircraft carrier and destroyer passed by at about a mile distance. When Brian appeared at 07.00, a helicopter headed towards us, no doubt from one of the ships. We were given a wave by those on board and they headed off in another direction. We assumed that the ships were part of the Bosnian task force and perhaps they had come to see what flag we were flying.

29th May

After breakfast we were treated to another wildlife display when a shoal of tuna joined us and showed off some high speed swimming. It is difficult to convey their grace, beauty and power when we usually think of tuna as steaks in tins.

Daylight had brought a fresh north-east breeze and we were able to sail at 5½ knots without the engine, the first time for 22 hours. However, it was not to last and by 11.00 we were back to motoring again.

By 16.00 I couldn’t keep my eyes open any more after losing so much sleep the night before and I retired to my bed. Brian had not been on the helm long when two ships appeared over the horizon to the north-east. These eventually resolved into a heavily armed frigate with a twin rotor helicopter on the stern deck and linked by an umbilical cord to a fuel carrier. I did not complain when Brian woke me to watch them pass by at a range of 400 metres. The frigate then turned to the north back to Bosnia and the fuel carrier continued westwards. We were left to cross their considerable wake at right angles to avoid too much rocking.

The main and No1 were raised in response to a light northerly breeze, but this steadily veered to the east, so they both came down again. Brian took the early watch again but after night had fallen for a while, he was concerned to find our navigation lights fading. By the time he handed over to me at 02.00 we had no lights, so it was just as well we had the Ionian sea to ourselves. Some lights did appear to our stern, but luckily passed far to our port side. I was able to get the No 1 genoa up during my watch, but our boat speed was not sufficient to dispense with the engine.

30th May

By dawn I had raised the main and we were achieving 5 knots but the engine was kept running to maintain the speed. Brian’s first job on getting up, was to disconnect the engine battery, ready to reconnect it to the lights later. This battery was still showing a healthy 13 volts. The auxiliary battery was left in place to support the log reading, with a small charge going in from the wind generator.

Amazingly, our shoal of tuna were still with us and must have covered about 100 miles by now. We had tried to catch one on a hook and line but then changed our minds, since they were becoming old friends. Occasionally, we heard a thud when one collided with the underside, but we never could work out the attraction of following us for such a great distance. I am not sure when they departed, but it was probably later in the day, when our attention was diverted as the wind increased.

We decided that we were now close enough to Greece to add another hour to our watches and we changed the Italian courtesy flag for a Greek one. By 15.30 the main and genoa were doing so little, we decided to take them down and with the lightest of breezes over the stern, we hoisted the spinnaker. This proved very worthwhile and we were able to turn off the engine for the first time in 28 hours. We were creaming along at 6 knots and between 16.00 and 17.00 our distance covered was greater that the previous 2 hours.

During our voyage across the Ionian we had taken GPS fixes every 2 hours and plotted this position on the chart. We were troubled by a continual drift northwards and put this down to a current, since it could not be attributed to the wind. A correction was made and we started to see an improvement in our heading.

Brian cooked a meal of soup and then curry, but before we started, the spinnaker had to come down due to a rising wind. By the end of dinner, No 3 genoa and a reef in the mainsail was the order of the day, with a brisk F4 northerly, driving us along at 5 to 6 knots.

At 20.10 we sighted land at last, but in view of the strong wind and forthcoming darkness, I decided that anchoring off Katelios would not be advisable, so we set a course for Lixouri for a quiet nights sleep. After seeing hardly any traffic for 3 days, we were now in the coastal shipping lane and had to dodge some large cargo vessels as best we could.

As darkness fell, we started to try to identify the coastal light patterns from the chart and eventually recognized the light at Akra Ortholithia on the Lixouri peninsular and also the light on Nisos Vardhianoi. We made slow progress into Argostoli Bay and eventually into Lixouri harbour at 00.30 and tied bows-to, with the kedge anchor over the stern

I phoned Sheila to confirm our arrival, we had a celebratory glass of wine to toast our safe passage and then to a well earned bed. We had covered 240 miles in 62 hours and had the engine running for 55 hours.

31st May

After an excellent nights sleep, we were having breakfast, when a white-suited harbour official arrived. Apparently, he had watched our arrival in the early hours and asked me to accompany him to the harbour office with my documents. After filling in a form with boat details, time of arrival and ultimate destination, I was asked to pay 500 drachmas (only £1). I had a large wallet and had different currencies in different compartments, but no matter how many times I checked, there were no drachmas. I immediately realized that our Italian thieves had searched my bag and found the wallet and money. However, they had been very discriminating, as if it was almost a joke to them and had only taken the drachmas and the camera. This explained how they knew our destination was Greece. I explained to the official what had happened and he accepted 300 drachmas in small change. On returning to the boat, I announced to Brian what had happened to his camera and that I was minus 40,000 drachmas.

After phoning Sheila with our E.T.A. we left Lixouri at 10.00. Once out of Argostoli Bay the wind was quite fresh from the stern, so we started off goose-winging with the main and No2, but it seemed an ideal opportunity to raise the spinnaker. Before we could deploy it the wind had come right round to the bow, no doubt due to local land influences, so we left the main up and used the engine. With another change in the wind and an adjustment to our course as we passed the airport, the spinnaker was hoisted and the main came down. Then the wind died completely, so we were reduced to motoring and all this before lunchtime. I mixed up some fuel for the small outboard and we put the dinghy together and trailed it astern, in preparation for arrival at Katelios. This would be the first time either the dinghy or the 2hp Yamaha had been used this year.





Approaching Katelios



After a lunch of stale bread and sweaty cheese washed down with red wine, we were able to raise the mainsail and No 1. In my hurry to get home, I even kept the engine running despite the log showing a speed of 6 knots.

We reached Katelios at 15.30 and anchored in the bay some 300 metres off the beach in 2.7 metres of water. I was concerned about leaving Cayman on the main anchor in the strong breeze and Brian agreed to stay on board with the engine running. Having reached Katelios successfully, we still had a further disaster to contend with. I had got in the dinghy and was attempting to start the engine when I was caught by an awkward wave and was tipped into the sea. Getting wet didn’t matter but the dinghy was flipped over so that the top half of the engine was submerged. We eventually righted the dinghy, baled it out and I rowed to the beach to be met by a friend who gave me a lift on his motorbike. I arrived at Hercules bar to be greeted by Sheila, Vikki, Janet, Sue and other friends, although in my wet and disheveled state, I must have looked as if I had just been rescued from a shipwreck.

After some time greeting everyone, I remembered Brian was waiting on Cayman and I went out with Yeorgos to fetch him. We came back to enjoy a large cold beer, Brian retrieved the dinghy and we went home to Thiramona, leaving Cayman anchored overnight. I enjoyed a wonderful shower, the first for a week, an excellent meal at Medusa taverna and a good night’s sleep, in a real bed, on dry land.


1st June

During a leisurely morning, we brought Cayman to her permanent mooring behind the breakwater, with the help of Yeorgos, who showed us the channel in between the rocky reefs. We spent the afternoon securing Cayman to the breakwater by the bows and by a stern warp to a stake on the beach.

Brian did finish the self-steering vane, but not until we had reached our destination, which rather defeated the object. I would now be using the auto-helm, with more facilities for re-charging the batteries but it did give him a project to occupy his mind during our journey.

And so ended the voyage of Cayman, having covered over 2000 miles, in a total of 11 weeks.


Home mooring Katelios harbour



A few nautical terms used in this journal

Crosstrees: Arms extending out from the mast to support mast stays.

Cunningham Hole: An eye in the sail used to improve the set of the sail.

Genoa: A foresail set on the forestay. Cayman has a large No1 extending behind the mast, a middle sized No 2 and a smaller No3, plus a storm jib, which has thankfully, not had to be used.

GPS: Global positioning system. Gives a latitude and longitude accurate to about 10 metres anywhere in the world.

Gunwhale: Pronounced ‘gunall’ is the part of a vessel where hull meets deck.

Halyard: A rope used for raising the sails.

Kedge anchor: A spare anchor often used from the stern.

Leach: The trailing edge of a sail.

Log: Electronic device measuring speed and distance.

Port: Left side of a vessel looking forward.

Sheet: A rope used for controlling the sail.

Starboard: Right side of a vessel facing forward.

Reef: To reduce the area of mainsail as wind strengthens.

Spinnaker: Large balloon-like sail, set at the bows in a following wind.




Roger Steven
http://www.evolutionyachts.info/

Friday, January 22, 2010

Voyage of Cayman Part 1



15th July 1998

We left home with Paul, Sheila, Brian and myself, for the journey to Exmouth, to provision Cayman for a departure on the following day, to the ultimate destination of Kefalonia. Unfortunately, we were delayed by a motorway snack stop and shopping for a grill pan in Exmouth, which led to problems getting to Cayman. She was moored in the estuary and the tide was on the way out. We boarded the water taxi with our belongings and provisions to make for Cayman on her drying mooring on the River Exe. By this time the tide had retreated, so everything had to be returned to the harbour, loaded into the car and then transported by hand across the sand as soon as the tide was low enough.

Paul and Sheila left for Malvern and we were left with the thought that the only way out of Exmouth was now by sea! After getting everything stowed in suitably marked lockers, we had a good evening meal in the quayside pub before returning to the boat to turn in for an early start next morning.










Cayman in the Exe Estuary

16th July

We cast off on the tide at 11.30 and after leaving the buoyed channel, set a southerly course. On leaving the harbour we encountered two omens, one good and one bad. The bad, was passing a yacht called Tristan and it had been a mechanic by this name who had caused much concern and eventually panic with the delay in sorting out Cayman’s charging problems. The BMW engine had no working charging facility and we were reduced to relying on a wind generator for power. On the more optimistic side, we sighted a dolphin and thought this might be a sign of a successful voyage.

With the southwest wind, we sailed south for 25 miles before turning west towards Start Point. My plan had been to sail on a bearing of 210 deg to Le’Aberwrach in Brittany but this wind would only allow a course of 180 deg at best. The wind was F4-5 with a gradually increasing sea and at an early stage we changed down to the No3 genoa and put a reef in the mainsail. We had decided to do alternate 4 hour watches and I opted to do the first from 22.00 to 02.00 heading toward Start point. By the time for the change of watch, the light from Start Point was all we could see in the blackness, apart from a close encounter with a fishing boat which turned it’s searchlight on us. Brian sailed on a 180 deg course but it became evident that we were over-pressed and would benefit from a second reef in the mainsail with the port gunwale often under water. However, Brian decided that this would be a difficult operation in darkness and continued to bear up into the wind when the heeling became too great.

17th July

When I put in an appearance about daybreak we decided the time had definitely come to put in the second reef. By now the waves were towering above us and we estimated them to be at least 20 feet, but they were rollers rather than breakers, so we just went up and down and waited for the tops to have a look round. We were now entering the traffic control zone and saw several large ships. One large tanker passed across our path within 500 metres and gave us a blast to show us we had been spotted either visually or by radar.

During the morning Brian complained about feeling seasick and disappeared below leaving me to sail single-handed for the remainder of the day. There had been no change in wind direction and we were heading for a part of France for which we had no chart! From the almanac, I had latitude and longitude of ports along the French coast and by using the GPS, I was able to work out bearing and distance to Port Blanc, more or less due south. By late afternoon a dark line along the horizon told us the coast was in sight and by 20.30 we were a short way off looking for the harbour entrance. We passed close to a fisherman who pointed the way and we picked up a mooring, had a quick meal of paella with fruit to follow and collapsed into our bunks.
The crossing of 170 miles had taken about 33 hours making an average speed of over 5 knots.



18th July

We rose at a leisurely 9am and decided to use the day to get stowage to our liking and overhauling the boat. This included tightening all standing rigging, tightening the rudder pins which had worked slack in the high seas and pumping out water that had found its way into the bilges. During the crossing the auto helm, which I had inherited with the boat, had ceased working and would need further attention. In the meantime we would have to steer manually. We took the dinghy ashore to find Port Blanc to be a delightful little port, very picturesque and unspoilt by commercialization. We managed to find a hotel with a public phone, so that I could phone home to confirm our arrival on French soil, although I felt guilty about not having done this the previous evening. We bought some French bread to go with our evening meal of potatoes, peas and corned beef and turned in early, in preparation for a full days sailing the next day.








Port Blanc






19th July

After rising early we prepared for a departure at 07.00. With a brisk south westerly wind, progress was slow along the coast and we deliberated over whether to go for Roscoff or a small port before it called Primel. We decided on the latter but then found that transits were not quite as described in the Pilot guide. However, we did see plenty of masts at anchor and set a course for these. On arrival it became clear that this was not Primel, but where was it? We found an unoccupied mooring and went ashore to discover that this was Anse de Terenez, an excellent anchorage that was not even listed in the Pilot! We walked some considerable distance exploring and looking for a phone box. We didn’t find a phone box so returned to the boat for our evening meal.

20th July

We made an early start with the intention of rounding Ile de Batz en route to L’Aberwrach. We decided on the shorter route, taking the passage between Roscoff and Ile de Batz, despite warnings in the pilot about a strong tidal flow and the frequent ferries.
The wind had died and motoring through the channel seemed the best option.

All went well until we found ourselves in a mass of seaweed, which quickly fouled the propeller. We attempted to start the outboard engine but the starter gear fell apart! The Yamaha outboard had not been tested since being serviced some weeks before departure. The next plan was to launch the dinghy to take the kedge anchor out beyond the weed and using this to pull ourselves free.
Once this was accomplished, I had to go into the cold water to disentangle the weed from the prop. All this cost us valuable time and after clearing the island we soon found ourselves standing still against a foul tide.

We decided to go into the first suitable port called Pontsuval but visible landmarks, described in the Pilot guide, proved difficult to identify. We found ourselves approaching a rocky beach instead of the port entrance. After this frightening experience, we quickly turned and motored out into clear water and followed the coastline until we came across large rocks on port and starboard sides marking the port entrance. As we approached, the heavens opened at the worst possible moment and we found ourselves fighting the wind and sea just to get to the first free mooring buoy. As soon as we were secure we descended into the cabin to dry out, have a hurried meal and collapse into bed after a frustrating day.

21st July

Another early start and we actually arrived in L’Aberwrach, which I had planned to reach some four days ago! The rudder bolts had again worked worryingly loose, so after a wander round town, a shower and crepes in the yacht club, we decided that the rest of the day could be usefully employed in urgent maintenance. We tightened the rudder bolts as tight as possible, in the hope that this would stand up to the constant battle between the waves and the need to steer a straight course. We also reassembled the Yamaha starting gear, which had been carelessly put together during servicing. We also tightened the forestay to improve the setting of the foresails. Tomorrow’s forecast was for continued south-westerlies, just what we didn’t want and we learned that other yachts were also waiting for a wind shift before crossing Biscay. If we did decide to round the Brest Peninsular at the correct state of tide, we would have to make an early start next morning.


22nd July

I awakened Brian at 06.20 to tell him that we had missed the 05.20 alarm needed for a departure to get through the infamous Chanel du Four with a following tide. We departed anyway, with a fresh S.W. wind and cloudy sky, only to encounter early problems. On any departure it is necessary to go through a check routine, just like an aircraft. In our haste to get away I hadn’t checked that we had a flow of cooling water through the engine and it was some 10 minutes before I realised this. Opening the seacock cured the problem but we had a rather hot engine. This was immediately followed by Brian giving the order to haul on the mainsail halyard, which should be attached to the mainsail and we saw the shackle end disappear skywards. Brian then had to shin up the mast in a wallowing sea to retrieve it. Our problems were not at an end because we realized that the halyard was now the wrong side of the crosstrees. We then used the lead plumb line to weight the halyard and throw it back over the crosstrees. After several attempts this was accomplished while we dodged the several kilos of lead weight descending towards us!

By now we were speeding west with a fair tide and increasing wind. The weather ahead looked threatening and when the wind reached 25 knots we both readily agreed that it was time to return to port. However, we had been carried further west than we had realized and it dawned on us that we were approaching L’Aberbenoit, the next port down the coast. This meant battling against the tide that had helped us and it was decided to utilize the Yamaha, the first time it had been used. We finally moored to a smart private buoy at 10.30, after a very hectic and tiring few hours.












Sunset at L’Aberbenoit



After listening to another disappointing weather forecast, Brian took to his bed for a couple of hours. In the afternoon we went ashore and picked up some bread and wine at a local campsite. Later, we put the small Yamaha 2hp on the dinghy and went for a trip up river in much improved weather.

23rd July

Having decided that the weather would not allow us to make progress through the Chanel du Four, we spent a morning on boat maintenance including tightening the rudder bolts which had again worked loose. We then visited the campsite again, this time in the dinghy, to obtain water. The weather had improved in the afternoon and we made a little progress along the coast to the small port of Lanilduit. This involved passing the buoy that marked the turning point from a westerly to a more southerly course around the Brest Peninsular. On arrival we picked up a fishing boat mooring, had a quick meal and went to bed.

24th July

I had read warnings about attempting the Raz du Sein in adverse weather or at the wrong state of tide, even in larger yachts, so a relatively short trip was planned to Cameret. The Raz is a stretch of often wild water between the mainland and offshore islands and rocks. From Cameret we could choose the ideal departure time on the following day to get
through with a following tide.

The sailing today turned out to be the most pleasant so far, starting with the No 1 genoa and then with the following wind, we raised the spinnaker. This allowed the opportunity to test Brian’s spinnaker sleeve, which allows more control of the sail when raising and lowering. We moored up on a pontoon in Cameret next to some very expensive company and I had to pay my second mooring fee, not bad for 9 days out.

Cameret turned out to be a good sized holiday town and we were able to stock up at the Supermarche, obtain water and fuel and have a much needed shower. On our wander round the port we couldn’t help but notice the massive yacht ‘Antarctica’, which Sir Peter Blake was to later use for his Antarctic quest and then in Amazonia where he met an untimely end. On our return to Cayman, Brian did some stitching on the No 1 genoa while I cooked a meal of pork chops, cabbage and spuds with a cheese sauce, eaten in semi twilight due to low battery reserves.












Cameret
















‘Antarctica’ Cameret





25th July

We left our mooring at 07.00 to get in a full days sailing, 15 miles to the Raz du Sein, 22 miles across Baie de Audierne, plus another 6 or 7 miles into the fishing harbour of Guilvenic. All went well for once, starting with the No 1 genoa in a light north-easterly and then this was changed for the spinnaker. When the wind backed, down came the spinnaker and this was replaced with the No 1 again. When the wind returned to north-east the spinnaker was raised once again, all this work in the space of about an hour, but it kept Brian busy.

The Raz turned out to be something of an anti-climax and we passed between the lighthouse and outlying islands in a gentle sea. We wafted along at 5 to 6 knots for some 5 hours before opposing wind and sea caused the spinnaker to wrap itself round the forestay, this being known as a candle. I had been trying to control the spinnaker and steer at the same time while Brian was in the cabin. “Brian, I think we have a problem”, I called below and it was decided we would have to gently lower the sail and gradually unwrap it. We reset it but it became apparent from the conditions that the same could happen again, so we reluctantly packed it away and hauled up the No 1. We then had a delightful moment when a dolphin surfaced forward of the bow and then another swam under our stern. They didn’t stay long but it was a moment that made the day.

We arrived at Guilvenic to find a harbour packed with large fishing boats and looking very prosperous, possibly at British expense! By now it was 21.00 and we continued into an ever narrowing and more crowded harbour, looking for a landmark
mentioned in the Pilot. As we squeezed our way through crowded trot moorings, the prop became fouled in mooring lines and Brian went over the side to release us. During this operation, a securing pin from the Yamaha 8hp was dropped into the murky water. We eventually found a space and moored between main and kedge anchors. We had a meal and fell into bed after a long and tiring day.






Guilvenic


26th July

On rising, it was decided that it would be imprudent to continue with low batteries, so we went ashore to find an obliging hotel, who allowed us to charge our batteries and to put the ice blocks in their freezer. I had not dared to turn on the icebox for some time now, due to our dwindling battery reserves.

Having decided we were not going anywhere today, we had a wander and found an interesting car boot sale and managed to purchase a small Danforth anchor for 40FF, which would be ideal for the dinghy. We also purchased provisions and some electrical bits to enable us to use pontoon power when the opportunity arose. We also found a Sunday market where we both treated ourselves to Opinel knives, Brian just collects knives and I didn’t previously have one at all. On returning to the boat at low tide, we were delighted to find the lost pin sitting on top of the mud.

In the afternoon, while Brian was busy setting up some lazyjacks, I realized that we were moving with the incoming tide. The main anchor was not holding, but on trying to lift it we realized it was fouled by mooring lines. Brian donned mask and fins in an attempt to attach a tripping line to the anchor, which we estimated to be up to 10 metres down. Before he went over the side, I remembered that I had a short length of chain in the anchor locker and we used this to make a loop, which was passed down the anchor line. As I paid out the anchor line, Brian pulled on the tripping line attached to the loop. This had the desired effect of tripping and releasing the anchor. On raising the anchor and line, Brian suggested that only 12 metres of chain was not sufficient to hold us in this current. Our troubles were not yet over because as we motored away and pulled in the kedge anchor, we found that this too was fouled on mooring lines! Having managed to detach ourselves, the engine was put at full throttle to clear adjacent moored boats. The dinghy was being towed and as it slid along one of the moored boats it was tipped at 45°. Although we didn’t realise at the time, one of the oars was lost overboard. After this chain of calamities, we managed to tie alongside a diving boat which we hoped would not be used that day or night. On assessing any possible damage I realized that the oar was missing and we went on a tour of the harbour using the dinghy and Yamaha 2hp. Luckily, we found the missing oar amongst all the accumulated rubbish at the far end of the harbour. All was put behind us that evening with a meal of steak and vegetables.

27th July

After retrieving our battery and iceblocks, I decided that we should attempt a 60 mile crossing of the bay to La Trinite where Sheila’s cousin and his family were on holiday. We were soon making good progress under spinnaker with a north-west wind and following sea. With 18 knots of wind, Brian had his hands full keeping the wind in the sail and the boat on course. This was exhilarating sailing as we creamed along at 8 to 9 knots with occasionally 10 knots in the surges. When Brian tired, I took over and coped well with the demanding conditions, although I did manage one ‘candle’. This took some 20 minutes to unwrap and at times we had visions of having to complete this leg with the spinnaker wrapped around the forestay and no way of raising a foresail. Eventually, it was decided that there was a danger of the sail being damaged and it was lowered and packed away. We continued under mainsail alone and still managed 5½ to 6 knots. Despite our excellent boat speed, we decided that La Trinite was somewhat optimistic and we adjusted course to Sauzon on Belle Ile.










Repairs to rudder bolts




The Pilot suggested that just inside the harbour at Sauzon the holding was sand, so our plan was to anchor here and at low tide we would be able to carry out remedial work on the rudder bolts, which still needed regular tightening. This had been a long, exhausting passage but certainly our fastest so far and after a hurried meal, we collapsed into bed.

28th July

During the night I was aware of grinding noises as the boat settled at low tide, although it didn’t sound like sand. On rising we discovered that we were resting on a pebble beach, but we made a start on the rudder bolts. On removing the pintle plate it became obvious that the lower bolt holes had been worn to about three times their original diameter. It was decided to fill the holes with plastic metal and then re-drill. The required 8mm drill bit was not in the tool kit so we took the dinghy across the harbour to the town. Sauzon was very much a holiday centre and we could not find a garage or hardware shop. However, luck was with us because when Brian asked a local resident where we could buy a drill bit, he provided not only the bit but a drill to go with it. The repair went well and an old aluminium radar reflector was adapted to use as a backing plate.

Pleased with our work, we went back to the town to return the drill and have a beer and pizza. While having our break, Brian began scribbling mathematical equations on a beer mat and came to the conclusion that the prop would benefit from being trimmed down from 13 inches to 12 inches. It seemed he knew what he was talking about, so I was persuaded.

Brian set to work with hacksaw and file while I cleaned out the bilges. Bad news greeted us when we tuned in to the 18.55 shipping forecast with predicted winds of force 5 to 6, which was too much for our planned 30 mile crossing to the mainland. We retired with the prospect of another day on Belle Ile.

29th July

After the 06.25 forecast confirmed winds of up to force 6, we went ashore to purchase provisions. I happened to find a local forecast posted in the harbour master’s office which predicted winds of force 4, so we decided to make for one of two small islands to the east of Belle Ile. Our departure was a bit of a rush, because the tide had already turned and we were in danger of being left high and dry until the next high tide. The harbour master noticed our frantic efforts to pull ourselves off the beach and assisted with a tow.

Once clear of the harbour, we dropped the keel, only to have it stop some 6 inches from fully down. We lifted it and dropped it several times without success. Without the keel fully down and locked, we were unable to safely raise any sail. It was then that I realized that the keel box cover was missing and sure enough, it was wedged firmly in the keel box after dropping half a ton of keel on it. We motored on while trying various methods to release the cover but without success. We decided to go into La Palais, the next port down the island, to continue the effort.

La Palais was a busy port with many yachts and large ferries going in and out causing considerable swell. We also found that the moorings consisted of stern and bow buoys and this was something we hadn’t encountered or attempted before. It took three attempts and much manoeuvring before we were secure and we provided good entertainment for the other yachts around us.

It proved easier to remove the cover from the keel box while in port, achieved by using an improvised tool made from an old tiller extension. The shopping facilities seemed much better here. An expedition into town was very successful and we returned with a length of chain, some cleats for the mast base and some electrical parts for the charging system.













La Palais



We were unable to find any heavy oil for the stern gland. Once back at the boat I worked on the new charging cable while Brian added the extra chain to the anchor line, fixed the cleats and eased the binacle bearing on the grid compass. During this time more yachts had slipped in around us so that we were like sardines in a tin. There was no way we could leave until others did and I had planned for a 40 mile leg the next day.

30th July

With the prospect of a north-westerly backing south-west force 3 to 4, we left our mooring at 09.00, after extricating ourselves from neighbouring moored boats. We set a course of 123° bound for L’Herbaudiere on the mainland. We started the yamaha 8hp in the hope that it would give us a charging facility after yesterday’s electrical work. This was not conclusive, but the problem was put on hold when Brian noticed that the log, which normally shows speed and distance, was giving a zero reading. It was decided to lift the log impellor, an operation not for the faint hearted, to inspect the paddlewheel. It is necessary to replace the impellor with a cap as quickly as possible to prevent the in-rush of water and once accomplished, it was clear that the paddlewheel had been very badly damaged. We quickly realized that it should have been lifted when the boat had been beached at Sauzon.

The conditions today were quite demanding, starting with a dead run and heavy sea attacking the starboard quarter. Initially, we sailed on mainsail only, but later raised the No2 genoa when the wind came further onto the beam. On reaching L’Herbaudiere marina, we had a force 5 wind blowing us toward the pontoon we had been directed to. Unusually, Brian was on the helm and I realized we were coming in too quickly. I performed my best acrobatics from the bow, hanging from the pulpit rail as we approached an expensive looking cruiser at a rapid rate of knots. I made a well timed leap onto the cruiser and pushed our bow with all my strength, to prevent what would have been an inevitable collision. We then had the satisfaction of seeing others trying to cope with the conditions. By the time we went ashore, we were sandwiched between the pontoon and another four boats, so we placed as many fenders around the boat as possible.

I phoned Sheila to try to get a telephone number for Seafarer, to try to get a paddlewheel replacement. This proved fruitless, as did a search of adverts in a sailing magazine. We came to the conclusion that they must have ceased trading and more research would be needed.

31st July

After phoning around, we found a supplier who had a suitable impellor and it was agreed to dispatch it to Royan Captinerie where we hoped to be in two or three days. We departed at 11.00 to cover 20 miles to Port Joinville on Ile d’Yeu. After leaving the marina I decided on a course between the mainland and a small off-lying island with a lighthouse. We left a cardinal buoy to port (a cardinal buoy marks a hazard) but then must have got the bearing wrong to the next buoy. We found ourselves sailing over a rocky reef, which seemed endless. The sails were up and the keel down so we had a draft of 1.5 metres and no idea where the depth of water was more or less than this! I stood on the bow to try to guide us, but in hindsight, we were travelling too fast to make any quick course changes. Eventually, we reached the buoy and gave a sigh of relief. After looking at the chart, we realized how lucky we had been, because at other states of tide, much of the reef was above water!

With a force 2 south-westerly, we had some very gentle sailing and eventually arrived at Port Joinville at 19.30. We were escorted to a bows-on mooring in the newly extended marina.

A shopping trip allowed us to purchase a couple of jamming cleats for the new mainsheet traveller arrangement, which we expected to be an improvement on the existing system. We also stocked up on provisions. Brian cooked a fresh mackerel dinner and so ended a pleasant day after early trauma.

1st August

After slipping our mooring, we set a course for Bourgenay on the mainland. A force 3 north-westerly was on our stern again and we chopped and changed between broad reach and goose-winging (sails out on opposite sides of the boat). The sailing was leisurely, in contrast to the Beneteau race fleet, leaving port at the same time as us. As I took a relaxing helm, Brian sat down with his sketchpad, to design a self steering gear which he thought he might build during our Canal du Midi transit.

After our usual bread and cheese lunch, we raised the spinnaker and had some good sailing until within a couple of miles of the port. About this time we found ourselves in the company of scores of small yachts taking part in a major international contest. We were directed to a pontoon berth which only just accommodated our length. This was just as well, since no other craft would be able to moor alongside and we wanted an early start in the morning to reach St. Dennis on Ile d’Oleron before low tide. Earlier in the day we had caught a mackerel and Brian had this for dinner while I opted for tinned tuna, not wishing to have mackerel two nights in succession.

2nd August

We departed at 08.15 for the 32 miles to St Dennis. We raised the mainsail and No1 genoa in response to a light breeze off the stern quarter. When this backed, we decided to try the spinnaker and Brian decided that it was my turn to prepare the sail since I had not done this before. With not enough wind to fill it, it was decided to bring it down and use the engine with a little assistance from the mainsail. In this relaxed state, Brian repaired one of the plastic jammers, which had degraded and cracked after years of sunlight, but a more permanent repair would be required later.

The afternoon was a succession of sail changes, spinnaker, No1 genoa and then No2 genoa. On arrival we were able to get a free luke-warm shower in the marina. I spent the evening with some chart work in preparation for the River Gironde the following day.

3rd August

We made an early start for Royan to get full advantage from the incoming tide once in the river estuary. The day started badly, with an unplanned 180° turn and then a near collision with an expensive cruiser! The wind was light and we had to motorsail until rounding a light beacon, when we turned south and the wind picked up. By lunchtime we were on a run (with the wind behind us), so the genoa was replaced with the spinnaker. With a following sea causing us to constantly correct the helm, the spinnaker became too trying and as we were approaching the Gironde estuary, it was decided to drop the sail. As I released the spinnaker halyard, Brian managed to get tangled in the sail and lost his prized cap overboard. By the time the spinnaker was under control, we turned to make a search for the cap, but it was like looking for a needle in a haystack and it may even have sunk. Apparently this hat was a prized possession and Brian became enveloped in gloom and despair and I wasn’t happy either, having lost valuable time and miles. We put up the No2 and continued goose winging. With a strengthening wind we decided to put a reef in the mainsail but as the halyard was released the sail remained where it was and appeared to be jammed. We tried the winch and then down-hauling using a Cunningham hole but only succeeded in jamming it more. Then the cause of the problem was discovered, the stitching had come undon e and the luff rope had become jammed the wrong side of the guide jaws. Brian tried to remove the jaws but there was no possibility of moving the screws after being there for the last 16 years.

All this time I was in a minor panic because I knew from the chart that we were off the headland close to the mouth of the Gironde and there was seriously shallow water which we were being blown towards. The words of the Pilot guide came back to me, warning to stay well off the coast until into the Gironde navigation channel. With considerable effort on the winch we managed to raise the mainsail enough to lever the luff back into the jaws with a screwdriver. We turned away from the coast and headed for the nearest channel marker before turning to port into the buoyed channel.

The final 12 miles to Royan proved gut wrenchingly slow, having to goose-wing in a short, vicious, following sea. I checked off every marker buoy on the chart as we passed them and eventually we tied up to a welcome pontoon berth in Royan marina. For the first time on the trip we decided we had earned a restaurant meal in the town.












Royan




4th August

The day started with disappointing news, the impellor paddlewheel had not arrived at the Captinerie from England. A trip into town yielded some gear oil for the stern gland, some plastic metal and a box of candles ( to save on battery power). We picked up some provisions for lunch on the way back to the marina. In the afternoon we donned running gear with the intention of heading for a large industrial estate with a DIY centre some 5 kms from town. On the way we spotted a store which turned out to be a veritable Alladin’s cave and provided everything on our needs list; drill bits, tenon saw, hardwood, insulation (for cockpit back supports), varnish and brush. On our return to Cayman, while I prepared dinner, Brian stitched the luff rope back into place, fitted the cleats for the mainsheet traveler and taped the insulation to the cockpit backrests. Following a visit to the Captinerie, we were given an assurance that the package would be forwarded to Carcasonne Captinerie when it arrived.

5th August

We departed early at 07.30 to make full use of the incoming tide to push us upriver to Bordeaux. A fair wind helped us to make good progress and I steered a course through a succession of channel markers, crossing them off on the chart, while Brian made a replacement clutch lever from the hardwood we had purchased. At about 11.30 a yawl eased past us, so we changed our foresail up to the No 1 to try to keep in contact. By 13.00 the wind had dropped and we decided to motorsail, being conscious of our need to reach Bordeaux while we still had the tide. In fact, high water at Bordeaux is 2½ hours later than at Royan so we effectively had 8½ to 9 hours of fair tide. In the afternoon we were rewarded with some fine broad reach sailing and were able to dispense with the engine.

The approach to Bordeaux was impressive, passing some large cargo ships and industrial areas before arriving at the autoroute suspension bridge towering above us. We arrived at the pontoon where the mast would be unstepped, at about 18.00 and found a space to accommodate us for the night. This involved making a U-turn and approaching against the current and as we clawed our way back to the pontoon, it dawned on us just how strong the current was. We made a short recce to some shops and purchased an enormous loaf and some salad for our dinner and then set to work folding all the sails which would not be required until we reached the Mediterranean. On the pontoon we found some discarded tyres for protection in the locks and some timber to construct some sheer legs for the mast to rest on. These items were presumably left by a yacht travelling in the opposite direction.



Preparation for un-stepping

6th August

While waiting for the crane operator at 10.00, we slackened off all the shrouds in preparation for mast lowering. This was in contrast to a geriatric yacht owner ahead of us, who spent an hour of dithering, while we were ready in 10 minutes. Once the mast was lowered and secured we had a leisurely lunch while waiting for the tide to turn, expected at 13.00. We then had a most enjoyable cruise upriver through Bordeaux to Cadillac which lies some 10 miles from the start of the Canal Lateral. We then realized that we could have made Castets, with a favourable tide some two hours after tying up. However, we would have missed the chance of catching up with our laundry and visiting a charming historical town. We did miss the chance of a swim at the local piscine which closed 15 minutes after our arrival at 19.00.









Mooring at Cadillac


7th August

At 05.30 we were galvanised into wakefulness as a giant hand seized the boat, shook it violently and then dashed it against the pontoon. We both scrambled on deck in fear of our lives to find the boat, the water and the pontoon in a state of violent agitation. As everything started to calm down, there was a rushing sound disappearing up-river. As I came to my senses, I remembered the words in the Pilot, warning against the tidal bore!

I woke Brian again at 07.30, since we had planned to use the tide to carry us upriver to arrive at Castets lock at high water. Brian tried out his new forward helming position, achieved with lengths of rope led aft through shackles to the tiller. As we arrived at Castets, the lock-keeper waved us toward the lock. The river here is still tidal so this lock needed to be extremely deep and we had to pass our bow and stern lines to the lock-keeper, who reached down with a hook on a very long pole. As water poured into the lock, we gradually moved upwards towards the daylight, trying to control the boat in the swirling water. The next two locks followed in short succession and again, were manually operated.

After the second lock we noticed a small, 19 foot sailing boat with a British ensign, which we assumed had been trailed down by road. The owners were Jason and Helen and we moored close by and invited them for tea and biscuits. To our amazement, they explained that they had sailed down, having left the Solent in June. Their trip had been as eventful as ours, having broken their tiller in a violent storm in the Channel. Their aim was to reach Majorca by the winter and intended to enjoy the journey through the canals. We didn’t have the luxury of time, so had to press on.

Next followed a series of five automatic locks operated by the boats using the locks. We soon mastered the technique, just as well because there were many more to come. The sequence of operation went as follows:-
1/ as we approached, a set of traffic lights showed red or green lights. If two greens or a red and a green were showing, we could proceed, meaning the lock was unoccupied. 2/ the lock gates could then be opened by twisting a pole suspended above the water. Initially, this took some practice lining up the boat so that the other person could reach for the pole.

Once in the lock, each of us had our own designated jobs and the order of operation was:- A) Brian takes a bow line up the steps of the lock and ties up. B) I pass a stern line to Brian who secures the stern. C) Brian activates the closing of the gate behind us and then the filling process with a lever. D) Brian takes up slack on the bow line and I look after stern line and fend off as the lock fills. E) When the lock has filled, Brian activates a lever to open the forward gates, then releases the mooring lines and steps aboard. F) Brian pushes off the bow so that I can steer away from the lock wall. This can be awkward due to our wide beam. Only one lock gave us any trouble, due to the steps being at the far end of the lock, making control of the boat difficult with incoming water pouring through the sluices.



Canal Lateral

We pushed on until 20.00 and moored at a small place called Pont des Sables where we had access to a power point to recharge the batteries. Navigation on the canal is only allowed between 08.00 and 20.00 with an hour for lunch. Outside these times the power to the locks is turned off and they cannot be used. As we approached this mooring, the prop became fouled with weed, a problem we were to encounter on many occasions and I had to go over the side to clear it.

8th August

We departed at 08.30 and while on the move, spent the best part of the morning dismantling the galley pump, which had stopped working. It turned out to be a poor seal and we tried to repair it with silicon, but without much success. We picked up a dumped plastic chair from the bank and cut off the metal legs, which were used as simple supports for the keel when half raised. The lowered chair was used in the forward helming position instead of sitting on the mast.

During the morning, we passed a large pleasure boat, which forced us closer to the bank than we would have liked. In the process, we managed to foul the prop with weed again and this time it was Brian’s turn to go in the water to clear it.

We stopped for lunch at a delightful and deserted café where we had some lunch and cold beers. The boat had been moored with the ronde anchors, which had been made by the blacksmith in Malvern and were proving their worth.




lunch stop

We moored up for the night at 19.00 at a place called Serignac and promptly plunged into the canal for a refreshing swim. A short walk into town was rewarded with some provisions, including 5 litres of vin de table and a pizza. We enjoyed an evening meal in the cockpit, which had become the habit and proceeded to get rather merry on beer and then wine.

9th August

I got Brian out of bed at 08.00, suffering a bad head. Just before Agen is a spectacular aqueduct where the canal passes over the River Garonne. We were faced with a series of four locks at Agen which presented no real problems but we had the task of clearing weed from the prop no less than five times. Brian did discover that he could reach the prop from the stern ladder without actually getting his head wet. As we approached our evening goal of Valence de Agen, the floating weed proved to be a big problem and we had to clear it a further twelve times that day!

On arrival, we found a complete theatrical town erected on the opposite bank, with terraced seating behind the boat pontoons. We were informed by our neighbour that a performance of Son et Lumiere, depicting the history of the canal, was due that evening and our mooring would give us a ringside seat. We decided to eat in town and while I opted for a pasta meal, Brian chose the local dish of pork called Cassoulet, a decision he was to regret.
Son et Lumiere Canal Lateral

The show was excellent, in light and sound with lasers and fireworks, it was a seductive and compelling vision with accompanying music. Unfortunately, it was lost on Brian who felt decidedly ill for the rest of the evening and night.












Son et Lumiere




10th August

Brian rose at 06.30, still feeling ill and went on a recce looking for a petrol station. This he found next to a supermarche about 15 minutes walk away and he returned to find me making a cup of tea, but was unable to consume any breakfast. We set off to purchase 35 litres of petrol and diesel and some provisions. We had planned to carry the fuel cans on a pole slung between us but soon found we had bitten off more than we could chew! Luckily, a young motorist responded to our thumbs and gave us a lift back to town, although his car must have smelt of petrol and diesel for days afterwards.

Once we got away we found the locks were now manual so more physical effort was required. We made good progress that afternoon and after passing through the town of Moissac, we reached Castelsarrasin by 18.30. Here we found newly installed power points, which were not mentioned in the canal guide, and we got some welcome charge into the batteries. An evening meal in the cockpit was enjoyed to wishes of ‘bon appetite’ from people out for an evening stroll. We were also treated to the sight of a passing otter. By now the weather had become very hot and our cockpit canopy was a welcome relief from the sun and was much admired by people we met on our journey.


Moissac
Castelsarrasin

11th August











Montech water ramp



We got away at 08.00 so that we could negotiate the series of 5 locks at Montech and have a look at the water ramp which replaces the locks, when it is working. This consists of a pair of massive traction units which drag a wedge of water, containing a barge or other boat, up an inclined slope. After stopping for lunch, we had just one lock to negotiate before an 18.5 kilometre stretch of clear water when we were able to make full speed. This was achieved by using both the diesel inboard and the Yamaha outboard at the same time, giving us a speed of 6 knots. This arrangement was used for any stretches of more than 3 kilometres without locks.
In the afternoon we found ourselves in the company of a French family, who had collected their new 26 foot Beneteau at Bordeaux and were en route to Spain. They had already smashed a masthead light in one lock, so we agreed that we would take the forward position in the locks, having the protection of an old car tyre lashed to our masthead.

By 19.30 we had reached the lock at St Jory, so we just pointed the bow at the bank and
used both ronde anchors to secure us. Our Beneteau friends were not inclined to do the same and reversed up the canal to find a spot more to their liking. After a swim we made our way into the town for a cold beer (or two) before returning for a chicken tikka dinner.

12th August

Rising at 07.00 we both agreed that 1 litre of French beer and cheap red wine was not conducive to a clear head the following morning. We set off just as our French friends were passing and we accompanied each other through the morning’s locks. Their rope handling skills left much to be desired, not helped by the mother having a gashed and bandaged hand. The son, aged 8, worked very hard, always climbing onto the lock bank and doing much of the gate and sluice handling.

During the day we reached Toulouse, France’s fourth city and left the Canal Lateral to join the Canal du Midi. The first couple of locks were awesome in their depth and required a new rope handling strategy. We moored up at lunchtime, at what we thought was the Navigation office to pay our canal dues but were unable to locate the correct office, so we pressed on.




In the afternoon we stopped for some much needed fuel, which required passing through an engineering yard guarded by a loose and savage looking German Shepherd dog. We survived, but were unable to purchase any two-stroke oil for the outboard engine. It was suggested that we go to Villefranch de Lauragais, but this would mean a trek across country, so we decided to press on. We spent the afternoon getting familiar with the elliptical sided locks of the ‘Midi’ which fitted Cayman’s shape more precisely than conventional locks.

We moored up at about 19.30 at Aygesvives under the canopy of trees, which spread right over the canal. We asked the lady in the lock-keeper’s house if she would mind freezing a couple of bottles of water for our icebox and then we jogged a couple of kilometres into Barziege for a cold beer. For dinner we had barbequed sticks of pork and settled down to a quiet and very dark night under the shade of the trees.

13th August

We rose at 07.30 to be joined in the first lock by Philippe and family. This turned out to be a double lock with three gates which was something new to us. During the morning whilst in a lock transit, I noticed a water vole frantically trying to escape the swirling waters so I dangled the bucket attached to a rope and managed to scoop him up and left him on the upstream bank. As we cast off, he was sat grooming himself, quite unaware of our close proximity and unconcerned by his near death experience.

On starting the engine after lunch I noticed the cooling water had ceased to exit from the stern outlet. After some investigation we realized that there was a poor seal on the water filter and this had prevented the siphon of water. Once this was sorted and we got under way, we passed through the last two uphill locks. After coming to terms with double locks, we encountered our first triple lock. We were now on our way ‘downstream’ having reached the highest point in the canal network. The system is fed from water running down from the Pyrenees and requires an enormous amount of water to keep everything functioning. The downstream locks proved to be far easier to manage with less turbulence and no scrambling up high lock sides.

We moored up at Castelnaudary about 19.20, to be joined by Philippe and family on the Beneteau. That evening I changed the engine oil and checked the starter motor, which was not working properly. Brian topped up the water supply while the girls on Phillip’s boat prepared a meal for six on one small gas ring! We realized how much better equipped we were with two gas rings, a grill and an oven. We subsequently had a most convivial evening, eating, drinking and singing. We retired about midnight after putting the battery on charge about 100 metres along the canal bank from our mooring. We just hoped it was still there in the morning.










Cayman and the Beneteau


14th August

We rose early to retrieve the battery and departed in Phillip’s company together with a guy in a 25 foot Jeuneau, who amazed us with his single-handed boat control. The first lock was a triple and then a succession of closely spaced locks, until we were forced to stop for the lunchtime break. We spent the time having a swim because we had already eaten lunch en route. The weather was getting hotter with the temperature now into the 30°’s. We reached Carcassonne at 18.45 and had to part company with Philippe and family, who were on a tight schedule and needed to press on to Port Nouvelle and Spain.

We arrived at the Service Navigation office to be told our package had arrived but the office had just closed for the weekend, so it appeared we were here until Monday morning. That evening we found a cash point machine and were able to stock up with some francs, both of us having run low. Brian managed to phone his brother John, who agreed to pass on the latest news to Sheila.












Carcasonne Captinerie


15th August

After a leisurely breakfast, we took on the tourist role and visited the 12th century medieval walled city (La Citie). On the way there we found a campsite, so took advantage of the hot showers, the first since Royan, eleven days earlier! We had no soap or towels, but dried off quickly in the hot weather.



The medieval walled city ’La Citie’

La Citie proved to be a truly unique, archetypical walled city with battlements and coned roof towers. On our return we purchased fresh sardines for dinner at a very reasonable cost.


During the afternoon we both tackled very frustrating tasks. I removed the starter motor and solenoid but on reassembly found it was still not working. Luckily the engine had an old-fashioned starter handle, so the lack of starter had not been an enormous inconvenience. Brian stripped down the auto-helm, which had not worked since crossing the Channel. After much difficulty in reassembling, it was still found to be as dead as a dodo. We then had a long period of deliberation over our plans for the next day. I favoured pressing on and catching a train back from Beziers to collect the impellor, while Brian felt a day could easily be spent on the many useful jobs to be done on Cayman. Eventually, I agreed to go along with Brian’s plans and we went for a cold beer to defuse the tension in the situation. Over the beer, we wrote down a list of jobs to tackle and came up with no less than nine.



16th August





The outer battlements

We got stuck into all the jobs we had thought of the day before. We stripped and serviced the Yamaha carburettor but as we lifted the engine aboard, a pain shot through my back. Luckily, it wasn’t too serious but I knew I would have to take things easy for a few days. We replaced the corroded screws at the mast base. All the woodwork was given a coat of varnish. The dinghy base was given a coat of varnish. We fixed a permanent table base in the cockpit. Fuel and water tanks were refilled. Brian freed a sticking mast base pulley and shaved some metal off the anchor shackle pin to make it run more freely through the bow roller. Finally, a small hole in the spinnaker was patched.
We had a convenience dinner of Chilli Con Carne and finished the evening with ice cream at, our now familiar, town square restaurant.

17th August
We rose early at 07.00 expecting to collect our package at the office, only to be told it had not arrived, but had been dispatched from Royan last Thursday. I was anxious to get away, so it was agreed that Brian would wait for the postman and then jog downstream to meet me at Trebes. The postman arrived at 09.30 without the package but a further delivery was expected at 12.00 so Brian caught me up at the second lock to tell me he would wait for the later delivery. I felt very proud of myself, having negotiated five locks and moored up at Trebes, all single-handed. While I waited for Brian, I went to buy provisions and Brian arrived about 13.00 with the news that nothing had arrived and he had left a forwarding address at Toulon marina.

We were starting to encounter more hire cruisers, which were usually in very inexperienced hands. That afternoon we followed three such cruisers and were trapped with them in each lock we came to. In fact we seemed to be stuck with them until we reached La Redorte, when we put both throttles on maximum and managed to escape! We reached the last lock of the day at Homps with just 10 minutes to spare and moored up at a very well equipped complex right alongside electricity and water - luxury!

We dined on quiche, that I had bought earlier in the day and I turned in early. Brian however, decided to go for a swim at a nearby lake and when I awoke at 30 minutes after midnight, there was no sign of him. My mind was working overtime, thinking that he must have drowned. I went to search for him down the footpath in the dark and met him after about 100 yards. He seemed quite oblivious to my concern, as if it was quite normal to disappear for several hours having announced that he was going swimming.

18th August

After making a start at 08.00, we managed to beat four cruisers to the first lock. However, we had to share a full lock at the second and after the third lock we arrived at Agen where we stopped for provisions. The only store we found had some tired looking veg, but we did manage to find some wire wool to clean our ailing saucepans. It had drizzled steadily during the morning and Brian prepared lunch en route. We moored to have lunch in the cabin, something that had not been necessary for a long time. On attempting to leave the mooring, we discovered there was no throttle or drive and on investigation in the engine compartment, found that the throttle linkage had come adrift. The vital link was missing and it took some time to locate it below the cabin floor, but all was well and we were able to attack the 54 kilometre lock-free stretch of canal. The only tunnel, about 500 metres long, was in this part of the canal, which seemed to attract a lot of spectators, who could walk through it alongside the boats.












The only tunnel on the canal



We reached the famous flight of seven locks at Pente d’eau de Fonseranne, just above the town of Beziers, at 18.00. It was disappointing to find that they only accepted upstream traffic at this time of day, so we had no choice but to moor and wait until the morning.

A very long walk into Beziers, found us a source of fuel near a lock further down the canal and we made a note to stop there in the morning. We found a seedy supermarche, but no banks and we were both now down to loose change. We got back to Cayman at 20.30 completely shattered, but recovered after a roast chicken dinner with a very acceptable vin de pays in a plastic flagon.

19th August

We rose early to be first in the queue into the locks, for the downstream traffic. There was a slight delay while they carried out repairs to one of the sluices. The transit through the locks went well in experienced hands like us, without the many onlookers that congregate later in the day. We stopped as planned to collect fuel and then stopped at Villeneuf de Beziers, some 6 kilometres downstream, where there were luxurious showers with soap, the first for two weeks. We failed to find a bank or cash point and after a beer, we were down to our last 25FF between us.

The Yamaha gave cause for concern when it began to run roughly, but after adding more oil to the mixture, it sounded much happier. At 14.30 we spotted a lost fender under a bridge, which had come off a hire boat and it was promptly rescued and added to Cayman’s inventory.

We finally reached Agde and noticed some sizeable masted boats on the River Herault, which could be accessed by a short length of canal branching off a large circular lock. We had planned to continue to Sete before entering the Mediterranean, but on further investigation, we found a boatyard with a crane which would lift the mast for 100FF. We calculated that we would have 1 metre clearance under the 13 metre road bridge, which separated us from the sea. Agde was big enough to have a bank so we were able to replenish our meagre cash supplies.

We were finally given clearance to enter the circular lock at 18.15 and made our way into the river to moor close to the boatyard. Brian suggested that we might be able to moor under the bridge and use it to raise the mast, but this seemed to me to be fraught with dangers and I gave an emphatic ‘no’. The canals had been a wonderful, relaxing experience, even though we had to negotiate 140 locks, but we were now faced with the rigours of the Mediterranean.

20th August

We presented ourselves at the boatyard at 08.30 and the mast raising went without a hitch. After tightening stays, arranging halyards, attaching boom and mainsail and various other tasks, we were ready for sea by 12.30. After lunch we set off, passing under the bridge very slowly, with only about 0.5 metre to spare above the mast. After clearing the river entrance and turning east, we set a course for Sete before a freshening NW breeze. We made good speed after setting the No 2 genoa, which turned out to be a good decision as the wind strengthened.




Sete



We reached Sete marina in 3 hours but were somewhat challenged by the berthing arrangements, as it was necessary to pick up a stern buoy and tie a bow line to the pontoon. Luckily the wind was on the bow so we managed to manoeuvre without too much difficulty. After stocking up on provisions, we had a meal in town to celebrate our entry to the Mediterranean.

21st August

We slipped out of Sete at 07.30 with the intention of getting in a good day and we did make excellent progress with a stiff westerly blowing. Brian was quite concerned by the lack of information on the small scale chart, making it difficult to identify features. Round the coast of north and west France and through the canal, we had the benefit of large scale charts, but I had decided that to purchase these for the Mediterranean would have been prohibitively
expensive. We did manage to identify the light on Pont de L’Espiguette but were confronted with a very featureless coast fronting the Carmargue.

Brian had not felt well during the morning due to the boat lurching in the quartering sea and suggested we should head into shore to drop anchor off a sandy beach for lunch. I was unhappy with this suggestion but Brian insisted that he felt too unwell to continue. We had the genoa down and sailed in with mainsail only. We had dropped the anchor before we realized this was not a good place to be. I tried to sail through the wind to head out again but everything started to happen very quickly. I struggled to get the keel raised, which was bottoming badly, and everything in the cabin was starting to get thrown around. A young guy from the beach came to our assistance and got the anchor line round a winch. I had managed to raise the keel and I then tried frantically to start the engine. By now the rudder had hit the bottom and had come off its pintels. It all seemed a bit useless trying to get back into deeper water, so we concentrated on trying to get the boat secure since we were also in danger of being blown onto a rocky groin.

The young guy obviously had some sailing experience because he got on the radio to try to get some assistance, while I took lines ashore helped by two topless young ladies, although there was no time to admire the scenery! We used the kedge anchor and the ronde anchors to secure the stern to the beach but the strain on the Bruce anchor had separated the warp from the chain and the main anchor was lost. Cross radio, the equivalent of the coastguard, had been informed of our predicament and I managed to contact them again to confirm that we were secure for the night.

While wading in the surf to try to locate the lost anchor and chain, a large breaker wrenched Brian’s glasses from his face and they were hopelessly lost. Our saviours then returned with a present of sausages, cheese, bread and grapes to tide us over in this isolated place. We used the sausages with beans and potatoes to cook a meal and then retired for a troubled night, being pounded by the surf. Both our spirits were at a very low ebb and I wondered if our situation could be any worse.

22nd August

We woke early to find a strong westerly blowing and the sea was whipped into foam. The wind speed gauge on the boat was registering 6 to 7 and sand was being blown along the beach. We were in an extremely remote place and we were told by a nearby naturist that a fishing village was 10 kms to the west. We decided to try walking to it to get weather information and provisions. As we prepared to leave, two Carmargue rangers arrived on horseback. They had ridden some 20 kms to check on us and we were somewhat relieved that our radio transmission had been answered. However, they were only wildlife rangers so there was little they could do for us.

After walking for about 6 kms into a virtual sandstorm, we met another naturist who told us that it was too far to walk and insisted on telephoning our situation to the authorities at Port Carmargue. We jogged back to the boat with the wind behind us, but about halfway Brian had to stop to ease the blisters caused by sand in his shoes. I decided to go ahead and on arrival at the boat, I plunged into the sea to try another search for the anchor. I later discovered that it was Port Carmargue that we had tried to walk to and it was in fact 22 kms away!

We had been told that the wind would continue for at least another day, so we cooked a good meal that evening. By this time the boat was firmly embedded in the sand so we were able to get a better nights sleep with less violent motion.




Sunset on the Carmargue






23rd August

Having repaired the broken tiller and damaged rudder box, we decided that there was little to do but to walk to the town of Aigue Mort, some 20 kms distant, to buy provisions, have a good meal and to phone home. The Carmargue was not without its rewards and we saw flocks of flamingos grazing in the lagoons together with many other rare birds. After two hours of walking we managed to get a lift in a van full of live and dead ducks and a very friendly Labrador. I imagine our driver was some kind of gamekeeper, although it seemed odd to be transporting both live and dead ducks. Near the exit to the National Park was possibly the biggest pile of salt in the World, literally a mountain of the stuff.

Aigue Mort was another medieval walled town, similar to Carcasonne and the place was crawling with tourists, in town for a festival. Having got used to the remoteness of our situation over the last couple of days, the place was somewhat overwhelming. We managed to purchase basic provisions, I made my phone call home, trying not to emphasize our difficult situation and we indulged in a good meal.

When we came to return to the gatehouse at the edge of the Carmargue, we were informed that we would not be allowed entry, even when we pointed to the boat’s position on a wall map. After about 10 minutes of arguing, the guard’s attitude changed and we realized he probably took his original stance because he didn’t believe we could walk that far! He then secured a lift for us with two women and two young girls in a Range Rover.
To be honest, I think they were distinctly unhappy about giving a lift to two dishevelled men in such a remote place. We soon overcame their fears and gave the youngsters a tour of the boat on our return. We then bid them farewell and a heartfelt thank you, having saved us hours of walking.

With what was left of the afternoon, Brian had the idea of using a long length of polypropylene rope and a home made grappling hook, to drag between the groynes for the lost anchor. Following a search of the beach we came up with a claw from a mechanical digger and some plastic tubing. On completion of this apparatus, we made two sweeps without success, so retired for food and drink. We had a bread, tomato and cheese supper together with wine and then coffee before turning in for the third night in this abominable place.

24th August

We rose at 07.30 to find the wind had died and the sea was virtually calm. This was the day we had to get off this beach one way or another. We tried two further drags between the groynes and Brian tried a snorkel search, but all without success. At about 10.00, when the tide was about at its highest, that a RIB appeared with a 50hp engine. Brian ran over to beg a tow after the owner had dropped his family off. Then two more RIBs appeared and all three agreed to tow us off the sand. After considerable effort and much rocking to release the suction of the sand, we broke free and anchored a short way off using the kedge anchor.

Attempts to start the inboard engine failed and I suspected that sand had found its way into the P-bracket bearing. We managed to start the outboard engine and at last we were on our way again. We got the mainsail up and ran before a light southwest wind to St Marie sur la Mer.
Once in port we took stock of our situation and were horrified to find a slight kink in the mast and constriction of the mast track, caused by the considerable force required when we had been towed off the beach. There was also damage to the top of the keel box, caused when I had tried to lift the keel in something of a panic, when we had grounded.

A visit to the captinerie showed a forecast of F8 wind that afternoon and F6-7 for the next day, so we said a silent prayer that we had been given a short period of calm in which to escape the beach.

After a welcome beer and some shopping for provisions, we had a luxurious shower and washed the sand out of our hair and everywhere else. The marina had washing facilities, so we were able to get our dirty washing clean and up to date. We had a large meal based on a tin of sausages and lentils and turned in for the best nights sleep in some time.

25th August

I was now coming to the inevitable conclusion that the trip would have to be split into two parts, bearing in mind the time that had been lost, the damage we had sustained and our drained physical condition. We had picked up a leaflet in the Captinerie for a boatyard at Port St. Louis where we might leave Cayman for the winter and this was convenient for Marselles airport.


After a leisurely breakfast, we hit the town for some Araldite, bolts and a local map. We would not be sailing today so Brian made up a tackle system to try to straighten the mast, but without success. I replaced bolts in the table support, which had been hijacked to repair the tiller, and we both got on with repairing the keel box support holes.

We had an excellent paella meal in town which was brought to a premature end by an invasion of midges which had hit the town in their billions. While I went to video a South American group, Brian went back to the boat to put more clothes on, as a protection against the invaders. However, after filming a couple of songs, I had to admit defeat and went back to the safety of the boat.

26th August

I woke Brian with breakfast in bed at 07.30 and we got away at 09.15 with a light north-easterly blowing. We had been following another yacht out of St Marie and were about a mile behind. We started gaining on him, when we realized he had made the same mistake and gone in too close, only to go aground. We managed to contact him on the radio and he confirmed that he was indeed aground. We pondered on going to offer assistance with our shallower draft but I was very reluctant to do so, bearing in mind our poor engine power and recent experiences. Luckily, we managed to hail a motor cruiser, who was able to go to the yacht’s assistance and we noticed that he was sailing again a short time later.

After lunch there was barely any wind and we motored under bare poles, not needing to conserve fuel any more. Later, the wind picked up and we motor-sailed with mainsail only. We kept track of our position on the GPS, past the mouth of the Rhone and finally round a long spit into the Gulf du Rhone. Not having the luxury of a large scale chart made finding the channel markers for Port Napoleon a bit of a lottery. We hailed a passing yacht to ask directions and he proceeded to do a 360° turn to point us the right way. Even with this guidance we found ourselves at the mouth of the Port St Louis canal and a quick readjustment found us in the buoyed channel to Port Napoleon. This was an eerie experience because with the keel down, Cayman’s draft was nearly two metres, yet just a few metres away there were fishermen stood knee deep, on the edge of the dredged channel.

We moored up at a pontoon and were immediately impressed with the boatyard facilities. The whole place was only three years old and I suspected it had been built with the aid of an EEC grant. We checked in at the Captinerie and were pleased to find that everyone spoke English and in fact, the yard was part British owned with a large number of British employees.

We started to walk into Port St Louis and managed to beg a lift from a couple of Algerians. We had a beer and bought some provisions, including some steak, at the large Supermarche. We managed to hitch back to the boatyard with a family in an old Mercedes. Once back at the boat, we discovered that the power point on the pontoon did not work, but we would have to sort that out tomorrow.

27th August

The power supply problem was easily overcome by moving to another berth closer to the crane. Over-wintering costs seemed to be reasonable and the craning cost was about average. Kevin, the yard foreman, had made an inspection of the damaged mast and was emphatic that it should be replaced, since it could just snap if put under severe strain. Cost of a replacement mast using existing fittings was around £1200, so the insurance would have to be checked carefully. The lost anchor could also be claimed, although I must admit that my mistrust of insurance companies made me feel somewhat pessimistic.

The stern ladder had suffered some damage and this was removed for Kevin & Co. to do some welding. Other jobs tackled during the day were clearing lockers, winterising the engine, folding sails for storage and measuring various parts which were to be made during the winter. Folding the sails had to be done in the lee of one of the large sheds, due to the Mistral wind that was blowing.

It is difficult to imagine how we could have managed had we landed in a French yard and tried to discuss the technicalities of wire spliced halyard tails and replacing a tapered mast with a parallel one. Not only did most of the staff speak English, but they couldn’t have been more helpful.

We had been booked to be lifted out by the crane at 08.00 on Saturday, the first slot available, so we would have to find something to fill our day tomorrow. There was a very hospitable café on the boatyard site, but since we were both running out of francs, we ate on board, a concoction of potatoes, tinned chicken and quorn. This was quite the most disgusting of all the meals cooked on board so far and we even had to make do with half a banana each, since that was the only fruit we had.

That night we went to bed with the Mistral giving a fair demonstration of it’s reputation and when Brian put his head outside later to check the wind speed indicator, it was gusting to F8.

28th August

We were up in good time to catch the yard’s courtesy bus into Port St Louis where we topped up our cash and purchased a few provisions. The rest of the day was spent in preparation for a departure as soon as the boat was lifted out, secured and last pre-winter jobs completed. We had confirmed that we could catch a bus from Port St Louis to Arles at 14.30 and then a train to Nice. It was generally agreed that Nice would offer a better choice of cheaper flights than Marseilles, although it meant a longer train journey.

During the day we were barraged by the strongest winds experienced in Port St Louis all summer and just walking became an effort. I just hoped the crane would keep to its' schedule, because the wind had caused operations to be suspended today. Dinner aboard was a tin of beef mixed with a tin of peas, together with rice and a chilli sauce, which was actually quite delicious.

29th August

Up in good time for lifting out at 08.00. This proved to be a very smooth operation and we were most impressed by the crane which acts as a transporter as well. We were also pleased with the dry storage position close to all the yards facilities. Once Cayman had been chocked, we made an inspection of the underside and found the P-bracket, which supports the prop shaft, was out of alignment and had probably been hit by the rudder when it came off the pintels during our grounding. We now knew why the engine had been reluctant to start and was suffering poor performance. This was another job for the boatyard during the winter.

And so the first part of the journey was concluded and we wondered what the next spring would bring. My plan to reach Kefalonia in eight weeks had been wildly optimistic and once I had accepted this fact, I was happy to leave Cayman in a safe place and to be going back to the UK and some home comforts!


Secured for the winter


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