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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