tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43545099706871012472024-03-05T06:59:36.599+00:00Journey on a Woods Sagitta catamaranJohn Pedersenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075810649821408370noreply@blogger.comBlogger71125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4354509970687101247.post-51775450199364143552017-05-10T08:22:00.000+01:002017-05-10T08:22:36.182+01:00Ready for sailing again.After a year of busy landlubbing, I've prepared the boat for sailing again. It's been a year parked here:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snug and secure in the mud</td></tr>
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Which is nice quiet place and picturesque, and with my favourite bird the curlew one of the major sources of noise. The little bay in the river sheltered from all weather, and the boat is afloat only at the top of the tide. Most of the time, it sits in soft mud. And it doesn't cost anything. I'm glad not to have to pay marina or mooring charges! But that was partly why I chose a cat with daggerboards, lifting rudders and outboards. Any bit of mud in some out of the way place is fine.</div>
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The boat had developed a leak in the roof of the bridgedeck, though very small - the only evidence was a small puddle on the floor of the saloon and a slightly corroded brass screw in the ceiling. I'd previously taken down a couple of ceiling panels to investigate, and concluded the sealant round the base of a winch probably needed renewing. But it was no longer apparent. The leak had stopped leaking. Still, everything needed checking over, the electronics needed reinstalling, cushions and bedding to load and so on, so I sailed the boat up the river to Totnes.</div>
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The antifoul was stained by the mud, but otherwise entirely free of weed and barnacles. The only work I imagined I needed a yard for was to pressure wash the deck, to clear off a thin patina of algae, but in keeping with my preference for frugality, I didn't even tie up at the Totnes yard's pontoon for that job. That would have cost, for parking, water and electricity. Instead I parked the boat in the old ship's turning bay, no longer used. Again, the boat was settled on soft mud most of the time. And the deck was easily dealt with by spraying on some dilute bleach with a garden sprayer.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two boats in the yard have their AIS switched on.</td></tr>
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So after a year of sitting in the mud, the boat needed very little maintenance. Mattresses and the cushions I'd left on the boat were completely dry and mould-free. There was no smell - having no engines on board (the outboards had been stored in my garage) and no plumbed in toilet, there is nothing that could give off any offending odours. That familiar boaty diesel/damp/mould smell was entirely absent. :) The saloon catches the heat of the sun enough so that the boat is warmed a little and it is well ventilated, so my efforts with insulation and ventilation have paid off.<div>
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There was little work to do - a lock had become seized in a door (and not from corrosion either, just a mechanical fault), which I replaced. I end-for-ended some anchor ropes and spliced new eyes. Fired up the laptop, AIS, radar detector and so on to check it was all working. A nice little laptop had come my way, so I formatted the drive and installed all the boating software I have on my main laptop, so now have a reliable spare laptop. If the one I normally use fails, all I need to do to get the replacement working is to plug in one USB lead.</div>
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So, after a week of fiddling about and checking things over, and loading stuff onto the boat that had been stored elsewhere, I was ready to go. West coast of Scotland would be nice I thought. But a friend also chose that as a destination for this summer on his 50' wooden boat. Hmm, I invited him to join me, and he invited me to join him. In the end we decided we'd go in his boat, so Scrumpy is all set to go, but now settled on the mud again. Perhaps later in the summer.<br /></div>
John Pedersenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075810649821408370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4354509970687101247.post-17962186056500880772016-06-20T14:21:00.003+01:002016-06-20T14:21:49.388+01:00Scrumpy for saleThis really ought to be the last post!<br />
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Scrumpy is now for sale. Details <a href="http://www.sagittacatamaran.xyz/" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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It would be nice if someone would carry on with the voyaging - the boat is very stable and simple and pretty fast. Nice opportunity, for someone else...John Pedersenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075810649821408370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4354509970687101247.post-34585212261332888752015-07-31T20:16:00.000+01:002017-06-01T21:07:13.302+01:00The last post: Scrumpy gets a makeover<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Here's the damage from bouncing on an Azore. Both fibreglass skins were split, but the foam - Airex - remained intact and kept the water out. I pressure-washed the hulls and left the boat to dry overnight. With some trepidation I ran my moisture meter over the damaged area, and found the water had barely spread from the obviously damaged area. I was so surprised, I checked my meter against a part of a bow that I know is damp, and the alarm went off just fine. So all I had to do was to replace the damaged glass and foam. The wood shoe wasn't torn off by the rocks - I'd already started removing it before I thought to take a photo.</div>
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This oak shoe took a lot of the impact, but it is repairable and reusable. Every boat should have one, or two!</div>
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The outer skin and foam is cut away. The inner skin is scarcely damaged, so I left it intact to make it easier to glass up to, and repaired a split in the glass from the inside with some glass/epoxy.<br />
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The second damaged area. Scoring the glass with a grinder made it easy to remove the outer skin and foam with a hammer and chisel.</div>
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The replacement patches need a 2" overlap. Here I'm sealing any little gaps between the inner skin and the foam to ensure that I will have an airtight surface so that I can use vacuum bagging.</div>
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I was glad to have assistants on the vacuum bagging day. One to help, one to take photographs apparently.</div>
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The vacuum bagging worked great. I'm just checking for leaks. We were able to warm the Airex up and bend it against the hull as it cooled to get it pretty much the shape we needed. The vacuum was then sufficient to pull the foam tight against the inner skin. The white stuff is bleed cloth.</div>
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A bit of fairing and filling before adding the second skin.</div>
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And some pink undercoat on the topsides while the epoxy is setting below.</div>
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The outer skin is now on - quadrilateral stuff, 1200 gm/m2 - and here's the final fill.</div>
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Leigh's Epigrip is an epoxy hi-build. Brilliant stuff. The while boat is covered in it. Unfortunately, it comes only in this colour, which several people have pointed out that it reminds them of the contents of a baby's nappy. Oh well, it is super-hard wearing. On the deck there are a couple of places where ropes have chafed, but only the top coat of paint is worn away. The baby poop is just polished a little.</div>
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It's red. Used to be yellow. I like to imagine it has ripened.</div>
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New engines, new-to-us dinghy, and new paint all over. Ready to go again, after a solid month of hard work.</div>
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So this is officially the end of the voyage - where Scrumpy is all set to sail once again after our 2 year Atlantic and Caribbean odyssey. So we're off to Brittany for the rest of the summer and who knows where after that. I won't be blogging about it though. I feel like the story is told and no story is complete without an ending. It's been fun to write about and photograph the trip though, and I've very much appreciated the encouragement and support I've received through this. So thank you one and all for that, and good luck with your own ventures - and goodbye!</div>
<br />John Pedersenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075810649821408370noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4354509970687101247.post-13926026262924464072015-07-01T06:25:00.001+01:002016-01-17T07:40:28.759+00:00Azores - UK<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I left Horta at dawn with a forecast of a high pressure ridge stretching from the Azores to the UK. Light winds, calms and a need to stay west of the ridge and sail north to find the westerly winds at a higher latitude. Suited me fine. Bye bye Horta - such a nice place!<br />
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I had 60 miles or so, sailing between islands, to get to open ocean. Here's Sao Jorge, 30 miles long, and 3 miles wide at it's widest. This is the thin end of it, the west end.<br />
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And so, after 60 miles and a busy day, the wind stopped. I don't think a photo of a calm out on the ocean really conveys the profound stillness - here's an action video of the calm:<br />
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So that got me a good night's sleep. One reason I wasn't too daunted at the prospect of prolonged calms is that I have some decent light weather sails, and Scrumpy goes well in really light wind. I don't need the kind of wind that generates waves and will happily sail like this for the rest of my sailing days:</div>
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I kept the spinnaker up all day, and sometimes hit as much as seven knots. That's the kind of sailing I really like, when you look over the whole ocean from horizon to horizon, and the only waves in sight are the little ones generated at the sterns in the wake. I think not too many single-handers use a spinnaker, and only silly buggers would be daft enough to leave it up overnight. At 4 am I awoke because the boat had slowed, and looking out the window I saw the spinnaker wrapped around the forestay. I decided it was best dealt with after dawn, and turned over for another hour's kip.</div>
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The next few days the wind was too light, and often from the NE, so dead against me. I stayed on the starboard tack sailed north when I could, and sometimes even NW.<br />
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Sometimes I thought I detected a threat of bad weather, but this was as bad as it got:<br />
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I spent over a week in such calm weather, making less than 500 miles. The wind was almost always from just north of east so I had to sail into it close-hauled on the starboard tack. If I'd had a windvane connected to the Autohelm so that I could have had the boat steer by the wind rather than the compass, I could have left the sails up and would have had no need to adjust either the course or the sails for days on end. As it was, the wind shifted about frequently, and if I found the boat slowing down, it was because the wind had headed me and I had to bear off a few degrees, and if the boat started going faster, the wind had freed and I could change course to somewhere closer to my destination. I had to do this day and night, so that was quite tiring, though sleep came easily, day or night.<br />
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When it is calm, and all is quiet, you can hear the whales breathing from over a mile away. I see a spout and count the seconds, like after lightning, to gauge the distance. Hearing the spout 5 seconds after seeing it means the whale is a mile away. There are many more whales in the ocean than I thought! Even a slightly roughened sea makes spotting or hearing one much less likely. Prolonged calm is what is needed to really see how many there are. Unfortunately, I got very few decent photos of them. Usually, they are only clearly visible briefly. I won't write a lot about whales right now - I think a posting about the whales I've encountered on the whole trip might be better (and more interesting than the details of the repair job coming up), but here's a sei whale, 12 metres long. It stayed around for an hour or so, often swimming alongside, then disappearing and then swimming along the other side. Occasionally, it would turn and swim for the bow of the boat, and when it got within a few feet, just drop down in the water (not diving) a few feet. 500 miles from the Azores, and 800 miles from home, this seemed an appropriate time to have my heart in my mouth as I listened for what seemed the inevitable contact between rudder and whale, but that never happened.<br />
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After over a week and making only 500 miles, the wind shifted to a more southerly breeze, and Scrumpy was able to crack on, a steady 6 knots day and night.<br />
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The return journey is just a countdown to completing the voyage, getting of the boat, reuniting with family and friends, getting on with all the plans that have been forming when I've been able to do nothing about them except imagine.<br />
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800 miles to go, and I passed through an area where tuna leaped from the water all around. I hooked one, but the line spilled from the spool so quickly and the rod bent so violently I was hesitant to grab it, and when my 100 lb line snapped I was relieved I wouldn't have to deal with it.<br />
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700 miles to go, I passed through an area full of tuna boats from Galicia catching nothing.<br />
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450 miles from land, I got radio 4 on long wave, and now had shipping forecasts to inform my strategy, and, as it happened, settle any anxiety. The forecast remained predicting winds of a maximum of force 6, but I never even had that. In all the sailing I've done with the boat, I've never had sustained periods of a fresh breeze from the side - the boat travels very steadily and comfortably like that. It was usually cloudy and cold (to me, coming from the tropics) so I usually stayed indoors with the hatches and doors closed. The saloon warms up nicely, like a greenhouse.<br />
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300 miles, I saw the boat about to run over a very large plastic bag. As the front beam passed over it, the thing turned - a waving fin lifted out the water, and I realised that the bag was actually a <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ocean_sunfish" target="_blank">sunfish </a>sunbathing on its side, and the whiteness I'd seen was its belly. It just fitted between the hulls - so it was close to 3 metres long! That would have been quite a hit so it was fortunate that the boat ran directly over it.<br />
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50 miles, and ships and fishing boats all over the place. I line the boat up to pass through the shipping lanes in thick fog off Land's End. Hurray for AIS!<br />
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5 miles, my phone connects, though I still haven't seen land in the mist. It's late afternoon, and considering the forecast is for just one more day of south westerly wind I decide to sail on through the night, planning to arrive at Dartmouth in the morning.<br />
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That plan worked fine, though I found fishing boats not using AIS, so I had to keep watch on and off through the night and didn't get much sleep. My arrival at Dartmouth coincided with low tide, so it was simple to carry on the 9 miles up the river to Totnes and motor right up to the one pontoon we have in Totnes, 3-400 metres from our house.<br />
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Tash and Fred had been able to see the boat's progress on the marine traffic website which monitors AIS transmissions. They were able to see such detail, they even saw when I ran aground in the mud and had to reverse and put in a little pirouette halfway up the river. They were there to take photos and catch lines - I was too busy for such things, but boy, what a welcome sight! And they'd brought a picnic basket with gluten free bread (the only kind I can eat) and some local cheeses, so I had my first cheese sandwich in 7 months. And my second, and third to be honest. And raspberries, strawberries...etc. What more could a fellow wish for?</div>
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Good old Scrumpy! Boy, it's nice to step off and walk away! :)<br />
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<br />John Pedersenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075810649821408370noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4354509970687101247.post-77024625440732388152015-06-28T07:11:00.000+01:002015-06-28T07:11:11.826+01:00Back in the UKJust a quickie to say that Scrumpy got me back safe and sound after a long slow but gentle sail back, with no damage or drama.<br />
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The boat is coming out the water tomorrow so we can repair the hull and give the whole thing a lick of paint before a relaunch and a trip to France. So pretty busy, but I should have time in the next few days for a longer post about the return trip.John Pedersenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075810649821408370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4354509970687101247.post-8699136256775224412015-06-13T00:03:00.001+01:002015-06-13T00:03:40.637+01:00Leaving Horta<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The work on the rudder went well, and I made two halves that I could epoxy around the straightened steel post:</div>
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The workshop was a very pleasant place to be working. Sylvia would always run rather than walk, everywhere. Full of energy. She ran the office, and created the finer bits of woodwork. Her Dad usually worked in the building next door, slicing trees. Her mother, a 60 odd year old in a broad-brimmed straw hat worked in the area between, shoving beams through a thicknesser and planer. I once looked up and saw her pull a 10-12' beam 2" thick and 2' wide from the thicknesser, swing it round and shove the other side in. I think I'd have struggled to lift it. And here's a thing I found in a corner of the workshop, something Sylvia's Dad made in his spare time - a go-cart made from a cast iron bath!</div>
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On my last day at the workshop, I got a small pile of money from the hole in the wall to pay for all the use of all these tools and the space, and the help Sylvia's Dad have given me using his moulding machine to cut the round groove to take the steel work. But they wouldn't accept more than 20 euros!</div>
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Back at the boat, I glued the two halves of rudder round the post, with a layer of double diagonal glass in the middle. I then laminated it, painted it with hi-build epoxy, and once that was dry, put it into a black plastic bag and lay it in the sun to post-cure the epoxy.</div>
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I had time while the epoxy was hardening to stock up with grub. What a selection available here, and cheap, compared to Bermuda and the Bahamas! There was a large bag of strawberries too, but they tasted too good for their own good, and they didn't make it back to the boat.<br />
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I figured one thing Sylvia and her parents didn't have at the workshop was a decent brush and shovel, so I returned one last time to give them a present and show my appreciation of their kindness. Sylvia was delighted, and her mother stood in the doorway of the workshop in her straw hat blowing me kisses as I made my way out of the yard.<br />
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Sure, there are grand views in Faial, like the top of the volcano in the middle of the island - an 8 mile walk from the boat:<br />
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but it's the people I'll remember most fondly.<br />
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So, the forecast is fine, the rudder is re-built, food and water is loaded, and tomorrow morning, I lift the anchor and set off on the final leg of this journey. This last island has proved to be one of the most memorable of the whole trip. I'll keep my Azores pilot guide, and I hope to make it back here some time.<br />
<br />John Pedersenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075810649821408370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4354509970687101247.post-20021744373951569432015-06-06T18:27:00.001+01:002015-06-06T18:27:20.247+01:00Onwards to Faial, Horta, with half of the recommended rudders.The wind remained in the east for a couple more days, and there was nothing we could do to repair either the hull or the rudder, so we went on a hike around the north west of Flores.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Going up</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scrumpy still anchored - not on the shore again!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There's so much up, it's hard to believe.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reaching a road didn't make things easier.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the top, moss two feet deep dripping very drinkable water.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view after we'd crossed the top, and begun the climb down another cliff back to Faja Grande.</td></tr>
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At last the east wind died. We decided Horta in Faial, 130 miles away, might be the best place to repair the rudder and we set off with a very light westerly. I put both daggerboards fully down to assist the autopilot. I experimented with the boards up, but the autopilot then caused the boat to zigzag quite wildly. I DO need a second rudder to get home!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Faial, with Pico behind it.</td></tr>
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I was glad to have a huge and nearly empty harbour to anchor in, manoeuvrability not being Scrumpy's strong point with one small engine on one side, and only one rudder.<br />
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After a day's resting and sampling the supermarket which had a stunning (to me) range of food at prices I could afford, and sitting in bars where buying a drink was a simple option, not a financial commitment as in Bermuda or the Bahamas, I pulled the rudder out of the locker (I only had to undo 2 bolts to completely detach the rudder and put it away - a good argument for the value of stern hung rudders!)<br />
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I smashed the damaged wood from the steel, looked up a steel worker on noonsite and arranged to meet him the following morning. For the timber, I bypassed the carpenters that were recommended and walked to the sawmill up the hill. They agreed to cut me some strips of wood I could epoxy together and then form the rudder shape from the resulting plates. In the UK, asking when such a job might be done often entails some sucking off teeth, and a great deal of humming and harring, and the answer being a speculative time next week. Maybe. Here in little Horta, the answer was, this afternoon. They'd email me, and deliver the wood to a bar near the boat.<br />
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I glued the wood together easily and the next day found it very hard to plane - though I'd sharpened the plane well, I didn't really have a good place even to hold it for planing. I emailed Sylvia at the timber place to see how they could help. Come up and see us was the answer, and so we climbed the hill again with the wood and the now straightened steel and drawings and measurements.<br />
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In the workshop, a bench was set up for me, and on the shelf behind, an electric planer, a sander, a jigsaw, a drill, a router - everything I could have wished for. I was delighted. I've made few recommendations in this blog. But should you need any woodwork doing in Horta, I strongly recommend:<br />
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">
<em><span style="font-family: Arial;">Manuel Garcia Borges & Costa , Lda.</span></em></div>
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<em><span style="font-family: Arial;">Produção e Venda de Madeiras</span></em></div>
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<em><span style="font-family: Arial;">Zona Industrial de Santa Bárbara - Angústias</span></em></div>
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<em><span style="font-family: Arial;">N.I.F. : 512025517</span></em></div>
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<em><span style="font-family: Arial;">Apartado 127 - 9900-408 Horta , Faial - Açores</span></em></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><em>email :</em> </span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" title="blocked::blocked::blocked::mailto:manuelg.borges@sapo.pt blocked::blocked::mailto:manuelg.borges@sapo.pt blocked::mailto:manuelg.borges@sapo.pt"><em title="blocked::blocked::blocked::mailto:manuelg.borges@sapo.pt blocked::blocked::mailto:manuelg.borges@sapo.pt blocked::mailto:manuelg.borges@sapo.pt"><span style="font-family: Arial;" title="blocked::blocked::blocked::mailto:manuelg.borges@sapo.pt">manuelg.borges@sapo.pt</span></em></a><em><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span></em></div>
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<em><span style="font-family: Arial;">Telefone : 292.292.586 Fax : 292.292.586</span></em></div>
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I'd have given you a link, but there's no website I can find. Listen, these people (one family as far as I can tell) are so good and so pleasant to deal with, you'll not only get your woodwork done but you'll come away with an increased appreciation of the human race. You people who arrive in Horta with no broken woodwork to fix - I pity you!<br />
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Between rudder fixing work, we invited our rescuers from Flores - who had also sailed to Horta - to dinner. I thought some fish might be nice, and the harbour being very clean I set about fishing. Right away, I caught a big mackerel. This was very nice, but not enough, so I carried on fishing, but got just a few bites and no more catches. A little disappointed, we went to the supermarket to buy more fish. But first I filleted the mackerel and put the fillets out of reach of the gulls. The head and spine, I almost threw overboard, but remembering the shark that had eaten the remains of our big dorado in the Bahamas, I put hook though it's head and lowered it to the bottom. Just out of curiosity.<br />
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When we came back from the supermarket, I went to pull in the line. The wind had turned, and so had the boat, and it felt like the hook had caught in the anchor line. Since my fishing line is 100lb breaking strain, I just continued pulling. Our neighbours wee laughing - they too assumed I'd hooked the anchor line and were amused to see me pull the boat along using a rod and reel. However:<br />
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it was the biggest stingray I'd ever seen. Sorry, the photo isn't that brilliant, but it was a lot of work to hold the fish near the surface and to shoot with the camera. That's the mackerel head by the ray's snout. The hook was through the tip of its nose, so it was quite easy to unhook it, and I doubt it came to any harm. That was certainly the biggest fish I ever caught, and I don't mind if I never catch anything bigger.<br />
<br />John Pedersenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075810649821408370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4354509970687101247.post-25394251020998096202015-05-28T09:47:00.000+01:002015-06-06T17:13:57.278+01:00Scrumpy on the rocksI'd recommend Flores for hikers and campers - anyone who appreciates grand scenery and peaceful countryside. But not for sailors.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anchored at Faja Grande on the west coast of Flores.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of many.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A short walk from the anchorage.</td></tr>
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I was glad to spend a few days in the little marina at Lajes. It was cheap as marinas go, and I appreciated the stillness after the boisterous crossing. I had the time to eat luxuries like cheese (local cheese is just great), eggs, fruit and vegetables and to clean up the boat and wash the salt away before Tash arrived. It was very pleasant too to spend time getting to know some of the other cruisers - all of whom had sailed long distances to get here.<br />
<br />
The locals are especially welcoming and convivial. I asked the harbour master how I might meet Tash at the airport at Santa Cruz - 8 miles away, almost the other end of the island. There is no public transport and very few cars. It turned out the harbour master needed to take his mother to the airport on the same day to catch the plane Tash was arriving on, so he offered to go a little early and give me a lift. He arrived in his car at the boat with his mother in the passenger seat. His mother had a huge cake on her knee. This we'd need to deliver to the harbour master's grandmother en route, to wish her a happy birthday. Cake delivered, and on to the airport. It turned out too that the harbour master's girlfriend's sister was also on the same plane and she needed a lift home to Faja Grande, a village on the west of the island. So we went over the top of the island to Faja Grande to deliver her. The harbour master had warned that the coming easterly winds would soon make the marina untenable due to the incoming swell - lines would snap, fenders would burst and no-one would sleep he'd said - and so we had the chance in Faja Grande to take a look at the anchorage he advised us to use while the wind remained from the east. We then gave a ride back up the mountain to her father, who needed to check on his cows. Then finally, back to the boat where we were invited to join the village in a free lunch. There is apparently such a thing! However, we hadn't seen each other for 3 months, so we made our own lunch on the boat. Besides, we were informed that the following day there was also free lunch for 600 people in Faja Grande where we'd be anchoring. Surely, one free lunch would suffice.<br />
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We sailed out of the marina with some difficulty the following morning. The entrance is narrow and twisted and the swell was already beginning. Graham and Heidi, who were on the last leg of their round 17 year the world cruise on a home built catamaran came with us. At the south west tip of the island, we were contacted by a Portuguese warship docked in Lajes who had picked up an emergency call on the radio. They asked us as the nearest boats to divert and investigate. We sailed south for 5 miles and intercepted a yacht sailing east, going fast, hard on the wind. We'd tried calling him on the radio, but got no reply. I set us on a collision course, and the fellow soon called on the radio, worried that we might hit him. He insisted he hadn't made the emergency call, didn't appreciate the fact we'd sailed down to check he was OK, and didn't even appear in the cockpit to wave. Anyway, he was why we missed the second free lunch in two days!<br />
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The anchorage looked a bit dodgy, with swell coming round from the north of the island, but in close to the rocky beach we were comfortable and had easy dinghy access ashore. But the east wind seemed to blow over the mountain and backwind, so we still on a lee shore. Still, the anchor was set amongst huge boulders, and the wind wasn't that strong. Being from the east, it would have been difficult to sail on to Faial, 100 miles away - and that harbour too is open to the east. So we stayed. Just from the deck, we can see three waterfalls which drop hundreds of metres from the top of the volcano, and so we had some excellent hiking on hand.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG0eUqO3r_yg2DsYjV-94cPef5D32TAhVlg1Qa1cIiRp8X3YIf-3o2ySBUlUi4Me6J8DmwNZEWcF008PU2Zc9hO_vW7D_Yp4720rA2Pd3d09JLSHJTlyRFfXxxB32rmli35NWw7gCjGR0/s1600/DSCN4668.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG0eUqO3r_yg2DsYjV-94cPef5D32TAhVlg1Qa1cIiRp8X3YIf-3o2ySBUlUi4Me6J8DmwNZEWcF008PU2Zc9hO_vW7D_Yp4720rA2Pd3d09JLSHJTlyRFfXxxB32rmli35NWw7gCjGR0/s640/DSCN4668.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tash admiring a waterfall.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tash climbing out of a hole.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJJ9OgQhScGMQLiorPIdWh-mec6eclbywpAcvfLAi1TlPid94ns5Z0BS8SVe13lOgUNuzJCUdTvEjHZhJg08H9AN5lDnR-0g5_2sF5loLMY_CcS9W6lszPW_FQ7vDthjYdh5-Rds2-kwM/s1600/DSCN4690.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJJ9OgQhScGMQLiorPIdWh-mec6eclbywpAcvfLAi1TlPid94ns5Z0BS8SVe13lOgUNuzJCUdTvEjHZhJg08H9AN5lDnR-0g5_2sF5loLMY_CcS9W6lszPW_FQ7vDthjYdh5-Rds2-kwM/s640/DSCN4690.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Good eh? Don't mention the bridge.</td></tr>
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More boats arrived, including <a href="http://sput.blog.com/files/2012/01/Multihullsworld-front-page.pdf" target="_blank">Sputnik</a>, a 40' yellow catamaran that looks just like a stretched version of Scrumpy, also on it's final leg of a round the world trip.<br />
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On our second night here, the wind picked up from the north and the swell came round the corner and built up and the waves started breaking in the anchorage. Thick cloud and rain made visibility close to nil. I stayed awake till 3 am on anchor watch. I had the same anchor out that had proved so reliable for the last couple of years, never dragging once. 10 metres of chain, and then rope. I'd have felt more comfortable with a second anchor out - but then we'd anchored previously in much worse conditions, and so I told myself that all would be well, and very tired went to bed.<br />
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At 6 am we heard a scraping sound and in a moment realised the boat was at the beach. By the time we were out of bed, the starboard hull was being lifted by the swell and dumped onto the rocks. We got dressed and put on life-jackets as quick as we could in the crashing boat. I pulled the string to fire a flare, and found the string in my hand, separate from the flare. A dud. I managed to fire a second flare, and then put out a mayday call on the radio. This was promptly responded to by the crew of Sputnik, and they asked how they could help. I asked if they could come over in their dinghy to take a kedge anchor out. I went forward and prepared a second anchor and attached my longest rope to it. By the time I'd done that, the crew of Sputnik were there, along with Graham who'd joined them to help. The kedge anchor laid out, we used a sheet winch to haul the boat off the shore. Tash had been watching as the boat turned while we hauled it forward and heard new bumping sounds. With hindsight (I have a lot of hindsight now!) it might have been best to pull ourselves off the shore sideways. Pulling from the bow turned the boat, and the starboard rudder was demolished in the process.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1IgOxdjTiQc3_3367B3OFGY8GtyJ7xo1tz0wP4zdieYqnLuS0CebdK9LXruUOXt8YmA5vYWwirIecwXimnm2WK2feY9Ot03k1J2dg4BHChxA3rWEAK3oJpKb3jZ0hFN5Tn4B6HQ6TjBc/s1600/DSCN4716.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1IgOxdjTiQc3_3367B3OFGY8GtyJ7xo1tz0wP4zdieYqnLuS0CebdK9LXruUOXt8YmA5vYWwirIecwXimnm2WK2feY9Ot03k1J2dg4BHChxA3rWEAK3oJpKb3jZ0hFN5Tn4B6HQ6TjBc/s640/DSCN4716.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The starboard rudder.</td></tr>
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Now no longer pounding, Tash went below to look for water, and found we weren't leaking at all. Phew! We got the engine started and motored back out into the anchorage, steering in the strong wind and through the waves with some difficulty with one rudder fine, but impeded in its movement by the damaged rudder.<br />
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I put all my remaining chain, 20 metres, onto a second anchor and we set that. By the time I'd thanked our rescuers and we were sure all was well, it was dawn, and as soon as it was fully light, I jumped into the cold water to check the anchor was set properly, and to assess the damage to the starboard hull. The anchor was fine, hooked onto a large rock. If there was a problem with it, it would be in retrieving it, but that was a problem for another day. Down the side of the hull, it was clear that the oak mini-keel I'd attached to the bottom of the hull had absorbed most of the pounding. A layer of glass I'd epoxied to the bottom of the was damaged and peeling in places and the oak itself had a few dings in it. There were places where the hull was scuffed, so that the antifoul was scraped away, but there were only two areas that had any serious damage. Each place had a crack in the outer skin less than a foot long.<br />
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From the inside of the boat, there was no damage visible, so I've concluded that the boat is safe to sail on to the UK as planned. The damaged glass will need removing and I'll have to check to see how far the water might have penetrated along the foam. But I doubt the repair will be a big job. The rudder however needs the attention of a good stainless steel workshop, and then I or someone will have to fabricate the wooden rudder blade and glass over it. I gave a little thought to sailing on with one rudder, but only a little, Tash persuaded me otherwise. When the wind pipes up and the boat starts haring down wave fronts, both rudders are necessary.<br />
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The wind is due to blow gently from the west for three days starting tomorrow before becoming easterly again. So we're going to sail east to Sao Miguel, the main island here with the biggest port. Tash needs to be there to fly back in 10 days or so, and that is where I'll have the best chance of rebuilding the rudder.<br />
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That hindsight - obviously I should have shackled together all the chain I had available. We'd have been fine. The anchor didn't drag. The rope broke. At first, I believed the rope had snagged on a rock and chafed, but as the wind picked up again last night I woke up and realised that I couldn't be sure of that. Maybe the rope had just been stressed enough times to be worn out at last. Having thought that, I had to go on deck at midnight, pull up the anchor rope till I reached the chain and add a second rope. It's not practical for little multihulls to carry all chain for anchoring and many say that the elasticity of rope provides a more forgiving connection to the bottom, alleviating some of the snatching that can happen in strong wind and using all chain. Clearly our anchoring strategy, which has seemed perfect for so long needs a rethink. But we have only one more night at anchor. Tomorrow we set off for Sao Miguel, 300 miles away. We'll dock there, and I shouldn't need to anchor again till I get back to the UK.<br />
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<br />John Pedersenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075810649821408370noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4354509970687101247.post-83462687332386819472015-05-21T14:43:00.003+01:002015-05-23T11:07:41.806+01:00Crossing the Atlantic, againHere is my account of the crossing from Bermuda to the Azores. I've taken it directly from a log I kept as I went, editing just a little to remove repetitive stuff mostly. Still, there's a lot of detail about the state of the wind, which landlubbers (and some others) could find a bit mind-numbing. But I left it in, for the sake of those who for whatever reason want to be able to picture such a voyage most completely, and also for sailors who will be able to look at that and understand my tactics and appreciate how the boat performed. But you won't miss much speed reading through that. For the really impatient, just scan down the images...<br />
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Note the times of the entries might not seem right. The computer entered the times automatically, and the computer is set to universal time. So things are 3-4 hours out leaving Bermuda, but I lose 15 minutes a day, so the times appear to be more and more appropriate as I travel east.<br />
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5/1/2015 <br />
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8:41:20 PM<br />
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Rice and beans. Quite a contrast to last night's dinner at the Royal Bermuda Yacht club, courtesy of Neal who was giving a speech there. Salmon with grapes and strawberries and the rest. And tropical fruit salad for desert, plus raspberries and blackberries. Where did they come from, at the end of April in Bermuda?<br />
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I'd sauntered out of the harbour mid-afternoon under jib alone making 4 knots, with the boat still untidy and disorganised. But it was easy enough to be sailing gently while I attended to organising things for crossing an ocean - taking anchors and chains from the locker to stow further aft, storing the outboard safe from waves, stashing the dinghy, unloading the shopping and generally tidying the boat.<br />
<br />
Waterman, a Beneteau 38 under full sail, comes out of the harbour and he's catching me fast. So, the heavy duty jobs done, I raise some mainsail. There is swell and waves all over the place, and a reef in the main gives me 6 knots, fast enough. Waterman overhauls me, us taking pictures of each other as if we are seeing something spectacular.<br />
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The wind gradually dies through the afternoon, and becomes more from astern. I raise more sail, and once I'm able to replace the jib with the genoa, overtake Waterman easily. He's got three sails out now, I don't think he could do more, unless he hangs his bedsheets from the boom. But the wind is very light now. So all he can do is 3.5 knots, while I get 4, having the lighter boat. There he is, in the late afternoon sun. Byebye Waterman!<br />
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<br />
<br />
Jak, the ex-pilot in the Hallberg Rassey 42 showed up - I saw him come out of Town Cut, and watched his sail for a while, but he's barely visible now. Worse, he's not visible on the AIS, which makes him a danger to me, and a danger for himself, if he is unaware that he is invisible to other boats. I'll call him on the VHF.<br />
<br />
Waterman tells me Jak has two AIS systems, and he's using the one that doesn't transmit. I don't know why. Waterman heard the weather forecast and was a little upset to hear of 40 knots winds coming. Having spent the morning studying the weather, I was able to reassure him that that wind would be a little to the west of Bermuda, and later tomorrow. We should be 100 miles away by then. My reassurance seemed to work. I do hope I'm right. I've got the drogue ready and have everything stashed ready for a storm, even though we're drifting over the great swells with the sails flopping about in the gentle breeze.<br />
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5/2/2015<br />
<br />
2:19:58 AM<br />
<br />
Waterman has disappeared. At dusk, all I saw of him was on the AIS and a low light by the cockpit. He lit no masthead light, which was puzzling - the most basic, cheap and electrically cheap safety device. I almost called him on the radio to ask if he'd forgotten to switch on the masthead light but since I could still see him just a mile away on the AIS, I left it. Now, I can't see him on the AIS either, and since we were going at a similar speed I suspect he is nearby, but I can't see him at all. It seems rude to call a single-hander in the middle of the night, but I tried anyway, and got no answer. The moon is full, so visibility is quite good through the thin cloud. I've had a good look around, and I'll set an alarm to look again soon. Jak is invisible too, and I'll feel much more comfortable when I'm some miles from here, and know it's less likely I'll end up in the same patch of water as these invisible single-handers. I can't understand why they don't show bright masthead lights at least, and why they don't show up on AIS. Damn! Single-handers are each other's worst nightmare. It was a mistake to leave at the same time!<br />
<br />
10:40:53 AM<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dawn</td></tr>
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<br />
Waterman is 2 miles behind me. I've turned directly downwind, which is dead on course. It's a bit slower dead downwind. I was wondering how significant the speed difference is, and realised I could find out with a little geometry. I drew a few triangles and made some measurements, and proved to myself that when I'm aiming at a far off destination and the destination is dead downwind, I'd have to multiply the increased speed gained by going off course (so that the wind comes more from the side than dead behind) by the cosine of the angle I'm off course. It's what I suspected, but now it's something I know. 10 degrees off course needs to be only 2% faster to make that worthwhile. 30 degrees needs an increase of 15% or thereabouts to make that worthwhile.<br />
<br />
Something to mull over breakfast, as I contemplate hoisting the spinnaker. I really would like to get away from Waterman, not just to go faster than him, but to get away from a fellow who will go to sleep and leaving his boat sailing on in close proximity to another yacht without so much as a masthead light showing. Throughout the night, I'd set an alarm and I'd been looking out for Waterman every half hour or so. Spoils the night's sleep that does! Sometimes he appeared on the AIS, sometimes he was gone. I have no idea why.<br />
<br />
<br />
11:40:39 AM<br />
<br />
In trying to set the spinnaker, I lost the halyard. The stopper knot had come undone, and the end of the halyard went inside the mast and the whole lot ended up on the deck at my feet. I guess if I was racing, I'd be more inclined to climb the mast, but there's quite a bit of swell so the top of the mast isn't a wonderful place to be, let alone hang on and attach a block to allow the halyard to be re rigged. I don't think many single-handers use a spinnaker at all - the sail is quite complicated to set and adjust, but I like it a lot. Get it right, and the boat flies along in the slightest breeze. Oh well, I'll have to see if the sea state allows me up the mast at some point. For now it doesn't matter anyway, because in the time I was messing about up front with sails and ropes and all, the wind has changed, and it is doing fine with genoa and mainsail.<br />
<br />
11:59:32 AM<br />
<br />
I spoke to Waterman, and told him I'd spent much of the night looking for him. He does have a masthead light but for some reason I can't understand, he didn't switch it on. For myself, I'd light this boat up like a lighthouse at night, if it wouldn't be mistaken for a lighthouse. I have an AIS alarm and a radar alarm, but since I go to sleep leaving the boat sailing, having a bright light at the top of the mast so that at least I can be seen seems the most basic safety strategy. If all else fails, I can be seen by others.<br />
<br />
I tried to take the spinnaker halyard up the mast anyway. I figured I'd just scoot up the mast steps, and if it got too jerky and hard to hold on, I'd just come right back down. I gave up halfway. I decided I liked living. I came back down, and if I'd been wearing a hat at the time, I'd take it off to Ellen MacArthur, who did go to the top of her much higher mast to do the same job. I guess she had something safer rigged than steps, but even so, a pleasant light roll and sway down on deck soon becomes an unpleasant and violent motion up high. Good for you Ellen!<br />
<br />
10:28:29 PM<br />
<br />
I certainly didn't need the spinnaker today. The wind increased, but the forecast suggested the stronger wind wouldn't last long, so I held on with the full mainsail and genoa out, hitting 11-12 knots without surfing. I left the Dutch monohulls far behind. I kept the sails up too long, until I was afraid of damaging the genoa. It's now the only light weather sail I have, so I need to look after it. As the wind grew, from the SW, I got down to jib and triple reefed mainsail, and still often hit 9-10 knots. So it's been a wild fast day. Made progress I guess.<br />
<br />
Now the sun is about to set, and a full moon is rising, and the strong wind fading a little so it could be a pleasant night with good progress. Hope so anyway. After last night's poor sleep, due to having to set the alarm every half hour or so to look for Waterman, I'm glad I've left him behind. I can set my radar and AIS alarms and sleep unless a change in the wind requires me to go out and change sails.<br />
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<br />
5/3/2015<br />
<br />
10:22:17 AM<br />
<br />
The wind stayed steady and fresh through the night, so I was able to sleep well. Occasionally I'd wake and wonder, when the boat surfed a bit and reached 12 knots, but I had just the jib up, and the boat never went faster than that, so I was able to turn over and go back to sleep. I've woken to a clear blue sky and a F6 from astern, and the boat behaving very nicely.<br />
<br />
Lying on my back in the bridgedeck bed looking up at the sky, it feels like the boat is hardly moving, so it takes a little adjustment to watch the waves and see what the boat is handling.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A night time visitor who became lunch.</td></tr>
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<br />
Morning jobs to attend to - washing up, moving solar panels, and this morning, lay out the drogue in case the wind picks up. It seems to do so each afternoon round here, but the forecast I downloaded before leaving Bermuda says I should be having F3, and that it should continue all day. It would be nice to be in radio range of Jak to check the latest forecast, but I've seen no boats all night. I'm on my own.<br />
<br />
70 miles in the last 12 hours. Which isn't bad at all for a 30' boat, but it is often a surprise to me that I don't seem to make as much distance as the speeds I see suggest I ought to. I guess the high speeds I notice sailing down waves make a bigger impression on me than when I'm sailing slowly up the back of a wave.<br />
<br />
9:41:33 PM<br />
<br />
The wind increased and was close to a gale for the afternoon. The boat frequently surfed, but never beyond 12 knots, which was surprising and pleasing. The waves were big and steep, but there was no tendency to go too fast. Eventually, I did hang a bit of the drogue out the back, but this was more to reduce the work that the self steering gear had to do rather than to slow the boat down. With a full working jib up and 10 metres of chain out the back, the boat was very steady.<br />
<br />
I ate the flying fish for lunch, and was disappointed how many bones it had in it. Poor fish! What are the chances of taking a short flight, mid-Atlantic, and landing in the cockpit of a yacht?<br />
<br />
The wind moderated by late afternoon, and I pulled in the chain. I can't put more sail up till the seas level out some more though.<br />
<br />
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<br />
5/4/2015<br />
<br />
9:50:49 AM<br />
<br />
The wind, always the wind. So long as the boat is intact, nothing else matters out here. The wind died through the night, and also went round the compass. By 3am it was east of north, and I got up and set the boat going fairly close to the wind. I was lazy though, and didn't pay too much attention to how well the sails were set and woke at dawn to find the boat dawdling along. The wind had also turned more easterly and I can no longer point towards the Azores. I'm close reaching about 15 degrees south of what I'd want to do. The wind will almost certainly continue to go round the compass, and I'll have to turn more and more south until it's dead against me, then tack....<br />
<br />
Sometimes I feel trapped in a plastic container being bounced about by waves, far from anywhere or anything, a slave to the demands of setting the sails and the course and keeping the batteries charged and everything intact. Other times, I feel the freedom of being able to use the wind to get myself across the vast wilderness of an ocean in this magical thing with its adjustable vertical wings. You'd think there'd be deep psychological reasons for swinging between one and the other, or hanging about somewhere in between. It might be simpler than that. Maybe it is just the direction of the wind and the size of the waves. And whether I'm tired or not. If I find myself dwelling on dark thoughts and bad memories, I try to see if I can moderate the motion of the boat and get some sleep. Yesterday, watching the boat surf down the bright waves, I imagined a camping trip I have planned with my wife, and went on to design a camping trailer that uses a 9' dinghy as the roof. Well, we always prefer to camp by water, and it would be nice to have a boat to explore waterways, and to catch some fish. There's room too for a little kitchen and a couple of bikes, storage for hammocks and a tent. I planned it in great detail, gluing panels in place as you often do in boat building rather than using bolts, to make it quicker and easier to build and to avoid making holes in the frame where the rust would start and holes in the panels where there'd eventually be leaks. Then I remembered she'd wanted a camper van... out here, thoughts run unconstrained. It'll be a task when I return to remember the good ideas and be ready to discard those not so well connected to reality.<br />
<br />
7:37:10 PM<br />
<br />
I saw spotted dolphins this morning playing about the bows, so I spent some time taking a lot of photos, and got wet from spray in the process. However, there isn't a single decent photo. All I see are splashes, blurs and hints. It's like trying to photograph ghosts. I looked them up in my whale and dolphin guide and was a little disappointed to find they are called Atlantic Spotted dolphins. Like I couldn't have guessed from the markings and location!<br />
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<br />
<br />
The wind has been F3-4 all day, and I'm close hauled with a reef in the main. The sea is still rough, and going through it at 5 knots or so is enough. I'm expecting tonight that the wind will come round more from the east, and I'll have to get up frequently to adjust the course. The boom is creaking very loudly. It does whenever I put a reef in. I think the reefing lines have become stretchy. I do hope they don't snap. That would be very inconvenient. Since I'm in for the long haul, and I'm not racing, I'm inclined to take it easy with the speed. More comfortable for me, and much less wear and tear on the boat.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No Photoshopping - nothing! As it came from the camera...</td></tr>
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<br />
5/5/2015<br />
<br />
11:43:31 AM<br />
<br />
The wind stayed pretty constant through the night, and I slept well despite the course being close to the wind. Now the wind is changing direction, and within the space of half an hour, it has changed by over 40 degrees. I have gone from being close-hauled and on course, to making the best of a wind that is dead against me. Well, perhaps I ought to be making the best of it, but I can't be bothered. I suspect the wind will go on turning towards the south, and soon I will take the northern tack, and after that, with each wind shift I'll be able to turn back to my desired course. The forecast I got in Bermuda has been surprisingly accurate, apart from underestimating the wind speed on the second day out. The direction and the timing of the changes of direction have been pretty good. I'm looking forward to freer wind by this evening, and a gentler motion and faster progress, on course.<br />
<br />
A tanker passed by this morning, 274 metres long and 50 metres wide. I guess it is 20 metres deep, and so contains 274,000 cubic metres of oil. Bound for Rotterdam. We didn't speak. Funny that. No contact for days, and yet you just sail by each other.<br />
<br />
I see Portuguese men-of-war all the time. Their sails are more sophisticated than I realised. They are arched, but not evenly. One side is steeper than the other. So the sail points close to the wind - closer in fact that I can manage with this boat. I estimate the angle of the sail to the wind to be 30 degrees. This arrangement suggests that the jelly fish is doing the same as me, tacking into the wind. Can they go upwind even? I'd like a test tank, a few jelly fish and a large fan. Or Google. What are jelly fish doing sailing upwind? (I did google this once I reached the Azores, and it's true, they sail, not just drift - <a href="http://rsif.royalsocietypublishing.org/content/6/36/613" target="_blank">here's </a>more information about the sailing of Portuguese men-of-war than you'd think possible, but to me, finding such a wealth of information on the subject so easily is fabulous.)<br />
<br />
I'm a quarter of the way across. Already, I'm looking forward to stretching my legs, getting some exercise. Sailing across an ocean sounds like hard work. Cooking and so on while you're bouncing about is difficult sometimes, and changing sails can be quite hard work, but 90% of the time I am reading or sleeping. I've read an intriguing book about running that suggests us humans are evolved to run very long distances - up to 100 miles a day. That apparently, is how we used to hunt. A brisk walk up a steep hill would be nice. I followed that with a comedy by Tom Sharp, and now Stephen Hawking's the Grand Design. I really appreciate the eclectic mix I have on my Kindle.<br />
<br />
12:46:39 PM<br />
<br />
Dear Professor Hawking,<br />
<br />
I have discovered that some macroscopic entities are semi-quantum. As I understand from your book, quantum entities are affected by the act of observation. I have found that while dolphins and Portuguese men-of-war are easily visible to the naked eye, they seem impossible to observe through the lens of a camera. Likewise, come to think of it, flying fish. I hope this observation will help you deduct a more elegant theory than the one you present in your book, that quantum entities have multiple histories. Can I have a Nobel prize now please?<br />
<br />
Yours observingly,<br />
<br />
John<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't know either, but he seemed to be waving at me.</td></tr>
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<br />
9:35:27 PM<br />
<br />
I was lazy, and spent too much time reading, and didn't bother much with the sails and the course. The wind was light and against me, and I expected it to change soon, so I didn't bother about a lot of work for an extra mile or two. Except the wind didn't do as I expected, and stayed against me just about all day. I could have gone a lot closer to the wind, and a bit faster too. And now, I can point to the Azores, as the wind has gone back round to the NW, but it has dropped to a slight draught, and I'm ghosting along at 2 knots or so. Still, that's 50 miles a day, so I have to make use of it. Here in the Sargasso sea, and later, around the Azores high, I could be waiting a very long time for the right wind, or any wind at all. So I've resolved to be more vigilant in keeping the boat moving and on course.<br />
<br />
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
5/6/2015<br />
<br />
3:24:34 AM<br />
<br />
Neal said it, as many sailors do. Neal has sailed across the Atlantic 18 times, and been in single-handed the round the world race twice. Once he was dismasted in the southern ocean and had to sail to South Africa under jury rig. The second time he made it round, and at Cape Horn he had 80mph winds and was rolled dozens of times within a few hours - the mast stayed up that time. Anyway, Neal said it: the calms are the worst.<br />
<br />
Am I missing something? I remember sleeping becalmed on the edge of the continental shelf in the Bay of Biscay. Whenever I awoke, there were the sounds of the breaths of dolphins and whales, so frequent that I began to identify individuals by the tones of their blows. One I remember thinking must have had a lung infection, or a sore blow-hole at least. I slept with whales and dolphins.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Portuguese man-of-war</td></tr>
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I took hundreds of pictures of Portuguese men-of-war. They were all crap. This was the best. Sorry, but it's really hard taking pictures of a jelly on a wavy sea from a wobbly boat!<br />
<br />
The wind died soon after sunset, and so I'm now becalmed on the Sargasso sea. The water is oily smooth. I dropped sails and went back to bed, leaving a window and a door open so that any breeze would awaken me. There's always a little breeze. The great soft swell heaves air above it, swishing it back and forth. But I'd be able to detect a steady breeze through the window. Soon the cabin was bathed in light - the full moon had risen, and as I tried to get to sleep, the boat drifted round and round, so that the moon appeared through all the windows in turn. I don't know if I slept, but I sat up and looked out the window and the oily appearance was replaced by ripples, so I went out and hoisted the sails again. Too early perhaps. The wind is still fickle. I'd have to wait and see what it becomes. I remembered I had a drop of ginger wine somewhere in the boat, and I dug it out. I never drink at sea, but it was only a drop, and the chances of a storm any time soon are zero. So I sat in the cockpit, swigging from the bottle, in near silence. Just the sails flapping about a bit in the swell. Two gentle wakes behind the boat, and the moon, higher now in the southern sky. There's a part of me wants to get on, but the rest of me is glad to have spent a little time at least, becalmed on a bright moonlit night in the Sargasso.<br />
<br />
9:59:58 AM<br />
<br />
The calm lasted all night I think. The boat drifted south 3.5 miles when I drifted off to sleep. I woke an hour before dawn with a light breeze blowing through the cabin. From the west. All sail up as the sun rises and the moon sets. Progress again!<br />
<br />
12:57:45 PM<br />
<br />
Wing and wing, genoa and jib. Pancakes and bananas. Cold and sunny. 1/4 of the distance done. At this rate, it would be 20 days to get there. In time for Tash's flight, but SLOW, and I'll be running out of good food. I'll have to hurry the thing along as much as possible.<br />
<br />
9:25:39 PM<br />
<br />
The wind picked up to F3-4 from dead behind, so all day I've been on course making decent speed, and am now going at good speed. This'll do. Sailing-wise, it is perfect.<br />
<br />
I've just dug out my wooly hat. I'm at the same latitude as the Algarve, and North Carolina, but despite the sun, I'm cold. I go about all day with three layers on, and at night, if I need to do a sail change, it's not enough! My blood has become thinner than water spending a winter in the tropics. I should wait in the Azores till mid-June before venturing to those far northern latitudes.<br />
<br />
I've made a mistake in my reading. I'm getting through the books, sometimes two a day. Martin Amis is a dark character, funny at times, but dark and melancholic. I picked up a French book as an antidote, and it started light, and became gloomier and gloomier. It's written in the first person, so I'm guessing the guy isn't going to top himself, but that's the way it's heading. Out here in the solitude, such things take on too large proportions. I'm looking for other things to occupy myself with, and put out a fishing line, but nothing so far.<br />
<br />
Browsing through the computer, I came across a half-finished program I wrote designed for single-handed sailing. Using the GPS data, it shows what speed the boat has been going over the last 24 hours, and the last hour and other such information, but also has alarms that can be triggered by the boat going too far off course, going too slow or too fast. It looks great! I'd forgotten about it. I haven't done any programming in years, but I was keen to have a go at finishing it. Sadly, a couple of bits of software I have are no longer compatible. One has been automatically updated, the other not. Shame. Perhaps when I get the internet in the Azores, I might finish that program.<br />
<br />
This afternoon, I looked to the north, and saw mare's tails in the sky and dark clouds, rain falling to the north west. Looking south, clear blue sky. I had a closer look at the weather forecast, and saw that the low to the north of me isn't anywhere I want to be at all. There isn't a gale forecast, but close to it. Further south, F3-4. That's all I need to keep the boat going at 6 knots, and it sails downwind like that in great comfort. It would hardly be more comfortable tied up in a quiet harbour. No rolling of course. If I sell this boat, I must remember not to buy a monohull. Downwind rolling with mono's, John, don't forget!<br />
<br />
I decided to change course to due east for the next 48 hours, or until the sky clears to the north of me. To do this, I had to swap the positions of the genoa and jib, which were each poled out, hanked on the same forestay. In getting the sails down, the genoa pole lost its fitting at the end. I didn't lose it, but decided anyway I'd repair it tomorrow. In the meantime, I've raised the two jibs instead, and I'm still doing 5 knots, so that's not too bad. And if the wind rises in the night, I won't have the big genoa do get down. The jibs are very easy to handle, but I expect, small enough that I won't have to.<br />
<br />
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<br />
5/7/2015<br />
<br />
8:56:05 AM<br />
<br />
So much for my plans. A black cloud overtook me, but unlike the squalls in the trade winds, it contained no wind. A second black cloud came, much bigger than the last and I left the twin foresails up, and again, there was little wind. Plenty of rain, and then in the rain a wind shift to the north. So I had to drop the headsails, and switch to a jib, and then hoist the full mainsail. The wind isn't strong, and there is quite a swell running from the last 24 hours of westerly wind, so I've turned a little north, to get more speed, and to prevent the sails bashing about the swell and the light wind. So now going 5-6 knots at 60 degrees or so.<br />
<br />
I'm knackered now, and after a good night's sleep. The sail changing wasn't really that much work, so that's a bit discouraging.<br />
<br />
7:49:03 PM<br />
<br />
My forecast doesn't make sense any more. What I see on the computer doesn't match at all what I see outside. So I'm back to guessing, as if I wasn't previously. The sky has cleared, and the wind faded and I'm doing 4-5 knots, a little north of the direct route - it's a bit faster that way, and I'm thinking I'd rather have a bit too much wind than too little, and that means go north a bit.<br />
<br />
I've now sailed 1/3 of the distance to the Azores after 6 days, and already I'm looking for variety in my food that I haven't got. The vegetables available in Bermuda were expensive, but also refrigerated, and I've found that vegetables that have been refrigerated don't last long at all taken out of the fridge. And I have no fridge. So, I still have onions from the Bahamas, which are only just starting to go off. The other vegetables I have, I like variety - two cabbages, one red, one green. Sadly, I'd used a bit of the red one a few days ago, and most of the rest of it has gone rotten. I have the stump left. And I'm fishing. Oh, and I have sweet potatoes, which weren't refrigerated. Been fishing all day, but probably going too slow to interest a tuna or dorado. Need 8 knots at least, and I've tried every sail combination and course that might make sense, but I can't do better than 5 right now.<br />
<br />
I can see 2 ships on the AIS, one 35 miles away. I find that reassuring.<br />
<br />
8:54:49 PM<br />
<br />
I saw a bird that looked like a swallow. A storm petrel is similar, but this was too high from the water, and did a tight circle round the boat. I went below for my camera, and it flew off to the east when I came out again. Could it be a swallow? I've just checked - I'm 608 miles from the nearest land - Bermuda - and as far as I know, I'm not on a migration path. Poor thing. I watched until it was a dot, and then disappeared. I concluded it must have been a petrel. And went back to reading.<br />
<br />
Five minutes later, it flew into the cabin through the door. My first swallow of the season! It flew about, chirruping in that seemingly happy way, not afraid of me at all. I took a few photographs, and then it flew onto my right shoulder, and sat chirruping in my ear. Just like Buddha. But unlike Buddha, I had a camera, and reaching for it carefully with my left hand, the bird flew off again. Oh well.<br />
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<br />
<br />
What a beautiful creature. I know that when I arrive at land again, I'll be overwhelmed by the smells of the earth and the vegetation, and then the colours and sounds. Well, I've heard little but wind and waves for nearly a week now, and this fabulous creature came and sat on my shoulder, chirruping. You won't believe how much it has improved my day.<br />
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<br />
It seems to have set up home in the bathroom. I hear it in there from time to time, but don't want to disturb it, so I'll leave it to its private room. It's welcome to it.<br />
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<br />
Once in the Mediterranean, 400 miles from land, in the spring, a swallow made itself at home for a night on my trimaran. I was amazed to find next morning that where it had perched for the night, it had left behind quite a pile of shit! Which suggests that so far from land, the bird was still feeding. I didn't mind the mess. In the morning, the bird flew out the door, and flew round the trimaran 3-4 times, gaining height, and seeming to get its bearings, before flying off to the north.<br />
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<br />
5/8/2015<br />
<br />
8:46:19 AM<br />
<br />
At dawn, two thoughts. The boat is going too fast, and has my little friend survived the night, sitting on his loofah stump? Half an hour later, two jibs set on the forestay, sailing directly into the sunrise. The swallow is missing it all, still sleeping on the wobbly bit of loofah.<br />
<br />
9:07:23 AM<br />
<br />
It was a female swallow. On the loofah, frankly, it wasn't looking so good first thing this morning, feathers sticking out every which way, a bit of a mess. Hardly recognisable as a swallow. While I'm drinking coffee in the saloon, I hear a few chirps, and it flew in and sat on the opposite side of the table. It spent a long long time preening itself and sorting out its feathers, stretching its wings, chirping a bit between preens. I was thinking maybe it wants to stick around. But as soon as it's sleek it's ready for business and it's out the door and into the sunrise and gone in a flash. I've had birds like that before.<br />
<br />
It's now 672 miles from land, and it has flown even further off. Does it know where it's going? It left me a little mess. As I say, it's happened before.<br />
<br />
6:07:22 PM<br />
<br />
I was woken from a light snooze this afternoon by the boat going too fast, haring down wave fronts faster than the self-steering could cope with easily. So I got up and sat outside, considering whether to throw a bit of chain out the back, to take the top off the top speeds. I saw the rod twitch, and thought I'd check it for weed, and I had a fish right away. They often seem to bite the moment you starting reeling in. I didn't want to take the sails down to reel it in, so I just pulled hard, and managed to get the fish as well as the boat surfing, and like that, skimming on the surface, there was no fight in it. It was a nice tuna, about 2.5 feet long. Two very large meals for me.<br />
<br />
It's important to drain the blood from a tuna right away - that apparently is where a lot of the mercury is. So I whacked it on the head with a winch handle and cut the arteries by the gills. I thought briefly of a photograph, but it was no longer a pretty sight. Filleting it, I found quite a few roundworms or thread worms, and some other white maggot sized things in the muscle tissue. I've never seen the attraction of sushi, and I should think that not many people who slice fish up would be keen either.<br />
<br />
Looking at the sea, which is what I came out for, it seemed the wind had increased, but the waves had become less. Previously, there'd been a swell building from the west, combining sometimes unpleasantly with a large swell from the NW. Well, I took one of the jibs off anyway, and the motion is much nicer and the steering gear can keep up. Back indoors, with a cup of tea, I see that I am still surfing down waves, very often sailing along at 8 knots and then up to 12 down the waves. But the boat feels under control and not under any great strain. So I'll leave it as it is, and see how the wind changes next.<br />
<br />
Sometimes, there's a lot of wind and the waves are small, and sometimes the waves are big and the wind is light. I appreciate that much of the swell is generated great distances away, but still, often I can't make much sense of it. Close to land, where the waves are affected by shallows and tides and currents, I can understand that the same wind can generate waves of quite different sizes and shapes. But here, it is 5km deep.<br />
<br />
9:26:18 PM<br />
<br />
Wow, I was caught out. I saw clouds to the north, but assumed they were travelling with the wind like me, and so would not be significant - the rest of the sky was clear. I got lost in a book, and suddenly the boat is going at a steady 14 knots and the wind is howling, and there's a big dark cloud right behind me. I drop the jib, and hoist the storm jib. Unfortunately while I'm doing that the boat is blown sideways on to the wind. To turn it downwind again, I had to drop both boards, slack the storm jib sheets to get some way on, and very gradually I was able to turn downwind. I lifted the boards, and since it started raining and the coming weather looked ugly, I dropped some chain in the water too. All quiet and steady now indoors, but for a while the wind was howling, and there was spray and rain, and things were a bit hectic. I'd been a bit complacent leaving ropes all over the place, so once I had the boat under control, I had a good tidy up.<br />
<br />
I've been watching a tanker, heading to Bordeaux, so almost parallel to me. I saw it from 50 miles away on the AIS, and it has finally just about caught up with me - I've been making very good progress all day! I almost never call a ship, but well, we're mid-Atlantic. I don't suppose the watchkeeper can be so busy. I asked for a weather forecast, and he asked me to wait, and he'll get one from the internet. Nice, and the forecast, NW 4-5. Which is fine. Once these waves die down a little, I can make a decent track with that. And then, since he had the internet, I asked another favour, whether he'd mind sending an email with my position to my wife. Well, she is planning to fly to the Azores to meet me there, and watches the weather and tries to guess where I might be. She'll now get an update of my exact position, and should be able to guess my arrival time with much more confidence. Hmm, if I can do that again, closer to the Azores, she might be able to go ahead and book a flight. Come to think of it, the helpful watchkeeper had to ask me for my position. I wonder why. I can see his position on my screen just fine. Can he see my position? I'll ask the next ship. Enough favours from that one.<br />
<br />
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<br />
5/9/2015<br />
<br />
9:36:34 AM<br />
<br />
I spent the night with just the little jib up and a chain hanging out the back, taking a course 30 degrees south of what I wanted. The odd wave would hit the side of the boat and crash spray all over it, but apart from that, it was a peaceful night.<br />
<br />
This morning it looks like NW5, so I pulled the chain in and put up the main with 3 reefs in it and put the boat on course. There are still waves occasionally hitting the side of the boat, and the motion isn't particularly pleasant, but we've whizzing along at a pretty steady 7 knots. I could live with that, but there are knots of black cloud all about and the wind is increasing again, so I'll have to do something different soon.<br />
<br />
1:04:18 PM<br />
<br />
997 miles to go. Down to the three figures at least!<br />
<br />
9:57:59 PM<br />
<br />
The wind increased dramatically quickly this morning, and it got to F7 in minutes. I was a little slow to respond, wanting to believe the F4-5 forecast. But when waves start crashing into the side of the boat and spray flies from one side to the other, it's time to act. I put out the chain again, and as the wind went on increasing, I let all the rope out - 200'. I left the small jib up, rather than replace it with the storm jib, because the speed - generally 5-7 knots - gives good steerage and I'm sailing away from the waves, so my speed reduces the impact a bit. Occasionally I've hit 12 knots, but that has been rare. Once a wave climbed steeply at the stern and then crashed right over it. I've never had that happen before even in a gale. The Autohelm self-steering got a soaking. I'd hate that to be wrecked, but it has steered flawlessly since.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dragging 10 metres of chain on a 200' bight of rope to slow the boat down.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Safer indoors, but the view is just as scary.</td></tr>
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<br />
It's now almost sunset. A yacht just appeared - 'Tilly Mint' - a 60' monohull from the UK, heading for the Azores. They have a scrap of sail up, but are still able to point to the Azores, and they are making 9 knots.<br />
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<br />
<br />
They called me on the radio as I was about to call them. They figured I might appreciate a weather forecast. Precisely! They'd just downloaded the latest for this area, and it seems this gale will go on till midnight, and then die down till dawn. Behind this horrible weather, there's a high pressure following, with winds at first of 15 knots, but lessening. That is really great news. I could do with some light wind sailing again! They warned there'd be a bit more strong wind as I approach the Azores, but as it will be from astern, that shouldn't delay me at all. What great news! It's been a trying day, even for them apparently. Such kind and helpful people. Being yachties, they knew exactly what kind of weather information I needed - far more useful than the extremely basic forecast from the ship yesterday, which turned out to be quite wrong. They realised at some point I was probably alone, and said they'd like to buy me a beer in Horta. Single hander on a small yacht makes a crew on a big yacht feel safe. I remember passing a rowing boat 1000 miles out from the Canaries. Made me feel I was in a luxury cruiser in comparison. They didn't mind sending an email with my position to Tash too, for which I'm very grateful. I think the beers ought to be on me.<br />
<br />
Tilly Mint have made a very unpleasant day much better. As I write, the wind has increased even further, but I'm greatly reassured that it won't get much worse, and won't last much longer. Out on the Atlantic, you know that no matter how bad it gets, it can always get worse. It's a big ocean. Stuff happens. Phew, that forecast.<br />
<br />
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
5/10/2015<br />
<br />
8:48:55 AM<br />
<br />
It did get worse, and lasted longer than expected. Rather than shifting towards the west, the wind became pretty much northerly. The waves don't shift as fast as the wind, so every time there's a wind shift, there are waves crossing through each other - new ones from the new direction of the wind, and the other stuff left over from the old direction. When peaks from different wave trains peak where the boat happens to be, well, it's not pleasant. The wind increased to a full gale, and I found that it was important for the motion of the boat to sail directly downwind with my little sail up, dragging my ropes and chains. Even 10 degrees off dead downwind would see waves crashing into the bows and over the boat with a great slamming.<br />
<br />
So I went downwind, and stayed awake to tweak the course every now and again. Since talking to Tilly Mint, I've sailed 96 miles at 135 degrees. The course I want is about 70 degrees. I calculated that I am at least 40 miles closer to the Azores as a result, so it's not as bad as it seemed in the night. Of course, it always seems worse in the night, and the moon is much less than full now, so the first hours of darkness before moonrise are really dark. The imagination runs wild, and it has plenty of material to feed upon - the occasional surfing at 12-14 knots, the odd wave getting as far as the cockpit (never happened before) over the Autopilot, the spray blowing across the boat, the slamming under the bridgedeck whenever waves would peak together under there, the howling and whistling of the rigging, and the cold. It is really getting quite cold, and I need to do more to keep warm.<br />
<br />
I seem to have slept deeply eventually, nodding off sometime after 2 am. At dawn, the wind is still from the north, at about 20 knots. I changed course to east, and just left the little jib up to pull the boat gently along. The waves and swell are still messy. There's not so many breaking waves, so I could hoist a bit of mainsail and get 6-7 knots, but for the time being, in this lumpy water, I'd rather creep along at 3-4 knots and wait for things to settle. I pulled in the rope and chain, and found it quite twisted. It took an hour to haul in and untangle. I guess the problem there is that I'm using twisted 3-strand rope. If I had multiplait rope I think it wouldn't twist, but that is much more expensive and I guess a tangle might slow the boat as much as a straight line, so it's just an inconvenience to deal with when it comes in.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYZCZSzrvb4b1wkEbHpuftg8SLiESoUW3rR4ApqrjaH7PeyUMb2VNkv7GA2YDedJP_XwGHUgJ9DqJOL1yUwMr0OBTQA0Z4Mq701FSlq7FHhCuJiyq_9F9Yd7YTv68RjZ8m3OADt1Yl-Hk/s1600/DSCN2940.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYZCZSzrvb4b1wkEbHpuftg8SLiESoUW3rR4ApqrjaH7PeyUMb2VNkv7GA2YDedJP_XwGHUgJ9DqJOL1yUwMr0OBTQA0Z4Mq701FSlq7FHhCuJiyq_9F9Yd7YTv68RjZ8m3OADt1Yl-Hk/s640/DSCN2940.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In case another waves breaks over the stern again.</td></tr>
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<br />
I'll rest some more, then think about doing some washing up etc. I've had a good look around, and can see no damage whatsoever from the ugly adventures of last night. I've found nothing broken. There's a bottle of rum still standing on the bedroom floor, even though the boat got hit quite often on the side, causing my herb and sauce bottles to tip over and rattle about in the cupboards. Monohullers will assume either I don't know what a gale is, or that I'm lying about the rum bottle still upright.<br />
<br />
6:13:16 PM<br />
<br />
The sea being still lumpy, and the wind surprisingly variable in strength, I've been pottering along. I tried the reefed main up, but then the wind increased a lot for a while and waves were splashing over the roof and slamming the leeward hull, so I took it down again. Now at last, mid-afternoon, the wind has settled a bit but it is from the N, not the NW. So I have the main up, and am going at 5-6 knots east. Any closer to the wind, the waves just slow the boat right down. As the sea settles and the wind becomes more favourable (I expect) I should be able to set a course more direct, though 25 degrees off course isn't very significant at this distance.<br />
<br />
I passed the half way mark, too busy with cleaning up and messing about with the sails to notice at the time.<br />
<br />
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<br />
5/11/2015<br />
<br />
9:16:02 AM<br />
<br />
I messed with the sails through the early evening, then left it. Some time in the middle of the night, the boat was going too fast. I got dressed to deal with it and decided I liked the progress too much, so lay down again fully clothed ready to go out again. That's how I woke up at dawn, the boat still going 6-8 knots on a close reach.<br />
<br />
I'd expected clear skies, what with Tilly Mint telling me there was high pressure building round here, but there's no sign of that. Dark low grey clouds everywhere.<br />
<br />
830 miles to go, exactly 1000 miles from Bermuda.<br />
<br />
12:13:43 PM<br />
<br />
Saw a large turtle. Looked dead, flippers floating loosely about. Maybe that's how they sleep. Dolphins came. Not the Pacific striped variety. The other kind. I took many photos, all rubbish.<br />
<br />
4:52:10 PM<br />
<br />
Ongoing grey sky, wind and waves building from the NW, a little rain. Nothing for the solar panels to soak up. Not what Tilly Mint had predicted at all. Where's the high? I do hope I'm not in for another gale. I could do with a steady ride in to the Azores now. Not a lot to ask is it, for the next 800 miles. Actually, it shouldn't be that unrealistic. I ought to be approaching the Azores high by now, and there are no strong winds within that.<br />
<br />
7:44:37 PM<br />
<br />
I've been out in my waterproofs, preparing for bad weather. I was concerned last time about the self steering gear getting inundated by waves from astern. Hopefully, I've resolved that issue, for now at least. I put the solar panels indoors - they weren't generating anything this dark day anyway, and it's good to have them out of the way of any thrashing ropes and blocks and a misstep by me. I'm putting the laptop to sleep to conserve electricity for the steering gear. There's no saying how long this darkness might last. I had 3-4 days of it last time I crossed the Atlantic, and the batteries were getting pretty low by the end. I've rigged the storm jib too, ready to hoist on the inner forestay. Last time, I was still going a bit too fast. If it gets as windy again, all I want is steerage way, and the storm jib can provide that. The wind isn't exactly dramatic, and maybe it won't be - it depends on how deep and how close the depression is. I'm hoping there'll be a bit of rain, and blue sky to follow, but I would hope that wouldn't I? Ah well, I've prepared all I can, so that's my task now, to wait and to hope.<br />
<br />
10:20:54 PM<br />
<br />
Switched to small jib as it gets dark. Wind not really strong, but figured I'd rather have a too slow passage tonight than a too fast one. There was a passenger ship within radio distance, but I decided not to call him for a forecast. I'm in it, what can I do?<br />
<br />
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<br />
5/12/2015<br />
<br />
8:11:08 AM<br />
<br />
I spent half the night awake ready to throw some rope and chain out the back. The boat was going fast, but not quite too fast. You can only worry so long, so I fell asleep, and was woken at dawn by the radio. Elfje, a 50 metre sailing boat who lists his destination on the AIS as Armageddon called to check I was OK, and give me a forecast. Continuing NW, 15-20 knots, fading gradually as a high develops over the whole mid-Atlantic. So soon I'll worry about being becalmed. Always something! Till then, I guess I'd better make the most of the wind, hoisting more and more sail as it fades away. There are a few bits of blue sky amongst the gloom, so I hope to be able to make some electricity later.<br />
<br />
For now though, a little more sleep. Usually I wake up really early, but I have boat-lag, sailing east like this. I'm losing 15 minutes a day.<br />
<br />
6:18:24 PM<br />
<br />
It's been another grey day, stuck indoors listening to the wind in the rigging and the occasional waves smacking the side of the boat. The sun didn't shine. It's raining now. Good progress through this grey murk though. Just 640 miles to go, so I'm 2/3 of the way. Seems like the job's nearly done, or maybe I'm just getting impatient. I have only a little maize flour left, and my fruit is just one withered orange. Plenty of cabbage and onions. I have every kind of incentive to keep this speed up as much as I can. It would be a bit disappointing to almost make it, and then drift somewhere off the Azores for days on end, dreaming of fruit.<br />
<br />
11:15:18 PM<br />
<br />
Wind turned to the NNE. Can't go to bed, will have to see how it changes...<br />
<br />
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<br />
5/13/2015<br />
<br />
3:08:31 AM<br />
<br />
Wind increased. Small jib, and one reef. Clear skies at least I think.<br />
<br />
8:21:29 AM<br />
<br />
Wind died overnight. Big jib up at dawn, full main, 3-4 knots on course. Dolphins in the sunrise.<br />
<br />
I have averaged 5.75 knots, measuring by the direct distance covered from Bermuda towards the Azores, ignoring the changes of course necessary to deal with headwinds and gales. That's not bad at all, slightly better than my last passage across the Atlantic, which was in the trade winds. But from here, most likely, that average will fall rapidly. I'm in the Azores high. There's bugger all wind here. It's the reason so many yachties headed this way carry rows of jerry cans on deck full of diesel. They'd all motor the last 500 miles if they found the wind was as light as this. I have a couple of gallons of fuel - possibly enough for up to 40 miles if I run the engine slowly. That won't make much of an impression on the 571 miles remaining.<br />
<br />
It feels like the boat is wallowing in the dying swells, going nowhere. But for the time being at least, I'm doing 3 knots. These low speeds hardly register - all you can feel is the effect of the swell passing under the boat. But that's still 90 miles a day, so 6 of them... This boat is good at light wind, but it takes a lot of attention to the sails to keep up with frequent fickle changes.<br />
<br />
I ate my last piece of fruit.<br />
<br />
1:28:59 PM<br />
<br />
The little breeze didn't last long at all. I dropped all sail, and set about doing the overdue washing up and cleaning. I then cleaned out the forward lockers which are used to store the sails. They are almost watertight, but after days of waves and spray over them, there was a couple of pints of water in one and a small bucketful in another. Not that big a deal, but the lockers would stay forever damp if I left it. Emptying the lockers, I remembered that I had a spinnaker, but no means of raising it, having lost the spinnaker halyard at the start of this trip. The spinnaker halyard would need to be re-reeved through a block at the top of the mast. Fishing line, halyard, halyard, fishing line...<br />
<br />
I tied the fishing reel to the base of the mast in a way which would allow me to pull line off it as needed. I tied a 1/2 ounce weight on the other end, put that in my pocket, and climbed the mast. At the top, I dropped the weight over the top of the block, and heard it rattle its way down inside the mast. That's right, 500 miles from the nearest land, not a ship or anything else in sight, I climbed the mast in the heaving swell. Well done, chap, some might say. But you're scared of heights! my kids would say, but there you go. You have to just hang on when a bunch of swells set the boat rolling, and the mast catapulting, and when it's still again, climb some more. It's a matter of clinging on as tight as you can, but not so tight as in a panic-stricken death-grip, as I was tempted to more than once. Near the top of the mast, the steps end, and the last 4-5' feet is just mast...<br />
<br />
Anyway, job done. I figured if ever I'm likely to need the spinnaker, it would be in the next few days to help get me through this calm and the fickle light winds that occasionally interrupt it.<br />
<br />
If this was a fairy story, the wind would reappear now from any direction but the NE, but preferably a direction that would allow the use of the spinnaker. Wind? Wind...? Must be real life then.<br />
<br />
4:00:57 PM<br />
<br />
After a few hours of total calm, I felt a slight breeze from the west and hoisted the genoa. On tightening the sheets, I happened to look across from the boat and I saw a fin 50 yards away, and then another behind it. It was in fact a large shark. I think the distance between the two fins - the latter one proving to be the tail - to be at least 10 feet. The thing was idly swimming north. I decided progress was more of a hope than a fact anyway, and dropped the genoa again, hoping the shark might come nearer. I spent a good while imitating a turtle with a bad leg - not so hard I think, with a deck brush bashing onto the surface of the water. The shark was less convinced. It reappeared 50 yards behind me briefly, and then was gone. I imagined falling from the top of the mast, bouncing on the deck, and finding this big wide ocean isn't as empty as it often seems to be. Calms are good for seeing things like that. I also saw a 3' long tube shaped jelly fish, close to the surface, probably 6" in diameter.<br />
<br />
Still, I'm glad now to be making about 2.5 knots, though on a mostly northerly course. The Azores high usually has a long finger stretching to the west and south of it. Sailing up this finger directly for the Azores could take a very long time. Better to be on the northern edge of it, where westerly winds can be found. I doubt this tiny breeze will take me a significant distance, but, well, if it's all there is, I'll do all I can with it.<br />
<br />
5:06:52 PM<br />
<br />
I ate the last of my potatoes with the last of my beans, hoping to make a luxury meal of it with my last egg. Sadly, the yolk was black and the egg stunk - the only one that had gone rotten.<br />
<br />
It's always a problem whether to eat food while it is fresh and enjoy it and make do with the other stuff later, or try to preserve it. The orange I had this morning, my last piece of fruit, was excellent, and could have lasted a few more days I'm sure. So the pleasure of eating it was tainted a little with the knowledge that I might have enjoyed it even more tomorrow or the next day.<br />
<br />
9:33:27 PM<br />
<br />
Spent a few hours this afternoon with the spinnaker and main up, but there wasn't enough wind really for it to be effective - or too much left over swell. Now at sunset I have the genoa and jib up side by side. A bit slower but certainly quieter and simpler arrangement. Better for getting some kip. It's been very busy day, but the boat is cleaner and tidier, the halyard is sorted out, the lockers are clean and dry, and it being sunny all day, the batteries are full again. 550 miles to go.<br />
<br />
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<br />
5/14/2015<br />
<br />
6:51:49 AM<br />
<br />
Drifted 24 miles through the night with the genoa and the jib up. At dawn, there's slightly more wind, and a little more from the south rather than from directly astern. That should make the spinnaker more effective. I'm drinking coffee at daybreak, awaiting the sunrise. As soon as it's properly light, I'll raise the spinnaker.<br />
<br />
8:54:31 AM<br />
<br />
The spinnaker was disappointing after all. With the light wind and the ongoing quite big swell, the boat would catch the wind, get up to a good speed and then slow right down, catching the spinnaker aback. I realised that with such great changes in the apparent wind, I wouldn't be able to set the spinnaker properly in any but the optimum conditions. That's a shame - I once had a spinnaker up pulling a boat across glassy seas at a good speed for 48 hours, without touching the tiller or a rope. It was a monohull, and the apparent wind doesn't change as much, so it was able to use a wind vane for steering, and the wind vane was able to follow every little wind shift, keeping the spinnaker full and still against the sky quite perfectly.<br />
<br />
Back to genoa and mainsail, and the familiar question of how to occupy the day. Under Milkwood I think.<br />
<br />
1:36:16 PM<br />
<br />
Bah, I have only half of Under Milkwood. I'm tired of reading. I've read maybe 15 books this trip so far. I got so bored drifting along at 2-3 knots with flopping sails that I decided to learn French. I found I didn't have the learning materials I thought I had, so went back on deck to photograph jelly fish. I've seen hundreds, and don't have a single photograph.<br />
<br />
A whale spouted maybe a mile away, and then after a minute or so, again. A very high spout. I got the camera and waited, watching the area. After 20 minutes it came up again, and guessing the time between seeing the spout and hearing it, I reckon it was 300 metres away. It took half a dozen breaths, and then it's back rose as it dived. There was a pronounced dorsal fin, so it wasn't a blue whale as I'd hoped, but probably the next biggest thing around, a fin whale. Fin whales never seem to bother about boats, neither investigating them or going away from them. But still, it was headed towards me, and despite my impression that after so many breaths it was ready for a long dive, I hung around for the next hour or so, watching the heaving swell, listening for the sound of a spout. I checked the chart, and see that we are over a sea mount, but there are no more for the next 50 miles.<br />
<br />
On the AIS I can see 5 ships, the furthest being 115 miles away. Crossing the Atlantic in the trades, I saw maybe three on the whole crossing.<br />
<br />
9:45:44 PM<br />
<br />
Progress has been pathetic all day. I think a lot of the forward motion has been provided by the swell, washing the boat from side to side and flapping the sails. Seriously! I've averaged about 2 knots in the last 24 hours.<br />
<br />
All afternoon, there's been blue sky, except for some fluffy clouds to the east. I was hoping I'd eventually get over there and find wind, and that seems to be happening at sunset. However, the cloud now looks dark and ominous.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
Could it really go from flat calm to stormy in so short a distance. I guess I'm about to find out.<br />
<br />
I'm tired now. Since I'm almost 3/4 of the way there, there's part of me ready to arrive, relax and switch off from the constant efforts to keep the boat moving along. But there's still 500 miles to go, and since I have no fuel and am completely dependent on the wind, there's no saying how long that could take. It might be 4 days or so, but of course, it could be much longer, so I need continuing patience.<br />
<br />
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<br />
5/15/2015<br />
<br />
It's 2am, and I'm awoken by the radar alarm. I check the AIS and see a ship 7 miles away. The alarm doesn't usually work until a ship is three miles away at most. The sea is so flat that the radar is travelling further, uninterrupted by waves. I see that I have sailed 7 miles in the last 5 hours, and decide to drop the sails and switch off the self-steering. I'm going nowhere.<br />
<br />
I call the ship on the VHF and ask for a weather forecast, and they tell me it will be the same for the next 2 days. So I ask the watchkeeper if he'd send an email for me. He says only the master can do that, but he took the details anyway and will ask. I gave him the details, thanked him, and wished him a pleasant voyage. He wished me a pleasant time, as if recognising that voyaging wasn't an option. The last Tash heard from me would have been from Tilly Mint, and they might have told her I was dragging chains in a gale. She'll be better off knowing I'm becalmed. I won't arrive in the Azores in time for her to book the flight she hoped to get.<br />
<br />
What a prospect. I'm bored with my books, I have no fruit, and only a bit of cabbage and some onions, and dried stuff. Some of that is running out too, though I won't starve. I have plenty of rice and lentils. I have no music with me, and just 2-3 radio podcasts left to listen to. I spent much of yesterday simply staring at the sea, trying without much success to photograph Portuguese men-of-war. The silence is total.<br />
<br />
How did I get here again? I was well aware of the Azores high, and have seen how it often stretches away to the south west of the Azores. My intention on leaving Bermuda was to sail along the current latitude to stay south of gales until I was half way, then head north east till I was north of the Azores, and then aim directly at them. This would have avoided sailing along that stretched out area, minimising the time I'd be in light winds or becalmed. But that gale sent me a long way south, and since then, much of the wind I've had has had quite a northerly component, so I've just used it to make as much progress towards the Azores as could. Anyway, it's all statistics really. What I find on the day itself is something else. This boat really doesn't need much wind at all to make progress, just some. Something. Anything.<br />
<br />
7:29:02 AM<br />
<br />
At dawn, wind. Well, a very slight breeze anyway. Blowing almost directly from the Azores. There is cloud in the east, and I imagine wind with it. All yesterday I was hoping to reach it. It seems I almost have, or it has reached me. But the wind is blowing dead against me. So I've taken the starboard tack, heading north of my destination. South would take me into that stretched out area of the Azores high. Going north, I increase my chances of finding more useful wind. Slightly increase my chances that is, but slight is all I have available, so I go for it of course.<br />
<br />
4:31:48 PM<br />
<br />
The wind increased, and became a little more southerly. It increased so much, I had to put a reef into the mainsail. It's nice the boat's moving again though. So much for the forecast from the ship. I guess with a 200 metre long ship, a calm and a 15 knot wind is pretty much the same.<br />
<br />
I've done forty miles this morning, which seems a fantastic distance. I doubt the wind will stay in this direction though. It is fading a little again already. There aren't really any waves building up from the SE, where the wind is coming from. There is a swell building from the west though, so I think I can count on a strong westerly wind on it's way. The Azores is renowned amongst sailors for the high pressure which is fairly constant here, meaning calms and light winds. But when I see the swell from the west building, I can't help but remember Chiki Rafiki, who we shared an anchorage with in the Caribbean the previous winter. The boat sank near here in 50 knot winds, and all the crew were lost. The keel came off. I don't have a keel, but have no appetite for 50 knot winds either.<br />
<br />
I've decided to sail to Flores rather than Faial. It's 100 miles closer for a start, and it would be very nice to have vegetables, fruit, cheese and eggs again. And cider. And music and radio and contact with people and email and downloads and so on. And I'd be able to make the next 100 miles to Faial on the back of a recent local forecast, which would be very nice. I think I can't make it in time for Tash to catch the flight she wanted anyway, so she'll arrive two weeks later probably. I may end up with time to kill in the Azores, so it would be nice to spend a bit of that time on one of the smaller remoter islands, and do a bit of hiking.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
8:10:23 PM<br />
<br />
I've spent most of the day indoors, reading. It's a bit cool and windy outside. It's easier to read once the boat is making progress. Becalmed, the mind tends to wonder how long for, and to count up remaining assets to see how long they might last. But I've been outside frequently to check the sails. I still can't point to my destination, so I have to tweak the self-steering gear to make the most of every wind shift.<br />
<br />
Mid-afternoon, I was about to go back in after one of these adjustments when I saw a whale spout on the port bow. I watched, and it spouted twice more. The spout was much lower than the fin whale, and points forwards, so it was a sperm whale.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
It seemed to be on a collision course, though far off, so I got the camera and sat on the roof and waited. 15 minutes later, 3 more spouts, and I could see the back of the whale clearly, but failed to get a decent shot with the camera. It was where I expected it to show up, still on the same bearing, which indicates a collision course. Sperm whales are quite common round the Azores, and I have seen one once before steaming along the surface of the sea, not diving at all, but swimming along at 10 knots or so. If this one was doing that, then there was a real chance of a collision. I guess a more prudent sailor might have stopped the boat. Whale crossing.<br />
<br />
I didn't see the whale again, but in front of the boat, I soon saw a whale sized patch of mirror smooth water.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
It had disappeared just yards ahead of the boat. Usually they show their tail and dive steeply. This one just sank a little below the surface. The boat sailed on, right through the slick. I waited for the sound of the daggerboard or a rudder hitting it. Nothing. It was a bit eery sailing over the smooth water and then waiting and watching without knowing where to look.<br />
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<br />
<br />
Ten minutes later I saw it again, off the starboard quarter. It was still steaming along the surface in the same direction. I wonder how many more have slipped below the surface to allow me to sail right over them, while I was sitting indoors reading my books or asleep in my bunk?<br />
<br />
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<br />
5/16/2015<br />
<br />
8:40:51 AM<br />
<br />
Clear blue sky at dawn, and the boat is still bashing away to windward. I'm still pointing 30 degrees north of my destination, but with 270 miles still to go, the exact direction doesn't matter too much. If I'm doing 5 knots 30 degrees off course, I'm still getting closer to my destination at a rate of over 4 knots. At some point, surely, the wind will change a little and allow me to sail a direct route.<br />
<br />
In the cockpit, a squid. So, squid can fly too!<br />
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But obviously they're not evolved to deal with hard landings. I guess there isn't much benefit in that, usually. I'll rig him up for bait later on.<br />
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It's getting a bit bumpy and bouncy. It's impressive though, a boat sailing along hour after hour, upwind and against the waves. Anything that floats can sail downwind. It takes a cleverer contraption to go upwind too, so I'll have to stick with this appreciative aspect, rather than get frustrated at the continual shaking around.<br />
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1:51:49 PM<br />
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Dragging the squid behind the boat, I caught a baby turtle. Luckily I was watching the rod at the time, otherwise it might have drowned. The hook had snagged its front flipper.<br />
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It wasn't hooked up as far as the barb though, so I easily unhooked it, and it didn't seem to have suffered too much. It's leg wasn't broken. I put him in a bowl of sea water for a while to see how he'd get on, and he swam around just fine. Though I guess he might have been puzzled by sea water with sides.<br />
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After he'd rested a few minutes and I was confident he was OK, I dropped him back in the sea and he dived down.<br />
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2:07:34 PM<br />
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Making lunch I heard squeaking through the hull. A pair of bottle-nosed dolphins were playing around the boat, but only until I got the camera out.<br />
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3:18:04 PM<br />
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The dolphins came back, bringing a few friends, but they didn't stay long.<br />
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8:33:48 PM<br />
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The bottlenose dolphins and the wind have been coming and going all day. The wind is steady in direction, but changes in strength quite a bit, so I have done a lot of reefing and unreefing, trying to make the most of what's available. Unfortunately, the direction is all wrong. It's coming from just south of east, and I want to go just north of east, but can't so I'm going north east. With every mile on this tack, the wind is becoming more unfavourable. I'd expected and hoped for a change by now, but it has been this direction for 36 hours.<br />
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There's only 216 miles to go. On my laptop, I can now have the boat and the island of Flores displayed, and I can see the shape of Flores. It is no longer a dot way over the screen. This wind, if it just shifted through 30-40 degrees would allow me to finish the trip in a day and a half. If I have to tack all the way, it's going to be 3 days. And if there's a calm...<br />
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I'm starting to eat my emergency rations - stuff I've been keeping in case the stove died or I ran out of gas. I'm near enough now that I could make it the rest of the way without eating if necessary, so it's nice to tuck into some of the things I'd set aside. I'd list them, but I doubt they would seem luxury foods to anyone else. It's not rice and beans anyway.<br />
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No-one wanted the squid. I've dragged it through the sea for over 50 miles, and apart from the turtle getting accidentally snagged, it has been ignored. Maybe it wasn't a popular squid. Maybe that's why it leaped onto my deck last night. There can't be many ways for a squid to commit suicide. Scrumpy offered a rare opportunity. I've been at sea for nearly two weeks now. Is that long enough to go mad?<br />
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5/17/2015<br />
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9:00:29 AM<br />
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The wind has shifted a little. It has moved a little to the south about as much as I've moved north. That is, I can point at 45 degrees now, but my destination is now 90. The wind was variable in strength throughout the night, so I was up a lot adjusting sails. Now, at dawn, it is just F2. 172 miles to go - however, it is grey everywhere, and darker ahead, so I expect rain soon, and a wind shift after that. Then we'll see...<br />
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3:28:05 PM<br />
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I've spent a lot of time outside in waterproofs and socks and boots - what a palaver it is in the cold north to get dressed up to tweak the sails - adjusting for the changes in wind that the rain brings. But the changes have been brief, and I doubt my efforts have paid off. The wind is now blowing exactly from my destination. A weather forecast would be great now. I could then know whether to continue sailing NE or change tack and go SE. But there are no ships for many miles. Not that ship's forecasts have been much use. A yacht with satellite data would be ideal, but I'm too far north of their track. Anyone with a yacht that can afford satellite connections will certainly have a nice diesel engine, and finding themselves becalmed and then headed by the wind as I have, they'd have motored directly to port. Up here, drifting about, sailing at 3.5 knots and so making good less than 2 knots, it's just me. So close, and yet...<br />
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6:20:31 PM<br />
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I've done 4.5 miles in the last 3.5 hours. And it was a lot of work. The very light fickle headwind seems to shift to one side then the other then back again. Whichever tack I take, the wind comes round to head the boat. Maybe. That may be just how it seems. Anyway, there are now black rainstorms every side of me. I got dressed up to try to continue to sail through them, taking advantage of whatever wind shifts the rain comes with, but gave it up. It's not that I'm tired or have anything better to do than read, but even so, I think my efforts would be wasted. I might as well relax and wait for some wind I can use. I've dropped the sails and tied them down. Still 150 miles to go. I'd hoped to get in before tomorrow night, but clearly that can't happen now, so I have at least 2 more nights out here to go.<br />
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9:06:54 PM<br />
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At sunset a little wind has started again, but from the east still. I won't bother putting the sails up for that.<br />
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A house martin arrived, and settled itself in a bedroom for the night. It's very welcome.<br />
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Did I say there's 150 miles to go? Probably...<br />
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5/18/2015<br />
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8:02:13 AM<br />
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At midnight, some wind, so I raised some sail. The wind direction was still east so I wasn't going to be making great progress, and there were still black clouds all about so I put a couple of reefs in the mainsail and left the boat ticking along on a NE course. I saw a bird flick in and out of the light of the decklight as I was raising sail. It looked like another house martin and I thought my guest must have left, but that would have been strange, to take off in the dark.<br />
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A dawn, I'd covered just 9 miles. So I guess the wind died again and I didn't notice. Oh well, at least I had some kip. And of that 9 miles through the water, it counts as just 6 miles towards my destination.<br />
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I have more sail up now and am bashing through waves at 4-5 knots at 70 degrees. So the wind has turned a little further south and I can point a bit closer, but I am now further north. I need to make a course of more like 100 degrees.<br />
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It's an hour after sunrise and the house martin is still where it perched last night, with it's head tucked under it's wing. Maybe it wants a lift all the way. Fine by me, but it could take a long time.<br />
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5:20:54 PM<br />
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The house martin flew out the window at 10am without stopping for a photo. For over half an hour, it flew round the boat, and then set off NW. There's nothing that way till Newfoundland.<br />
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The wind has become more and more southerly, and mid-afternoon, I can just about aim directly for my destination. I'd been gambling the wind would go that way, so rather than get as close to the wind as I could, I freed up a little to get more speed. I needed the speed to crash over the swell left behind from days of easterlies. Anyway, so far it has worked, I've sailed in a big long loop, gradually altering course all day - though I'm not in the clear yet.<br />
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99 miles to go, and I'm really really hoping to make it by tomorrow afternoon without the wind growing into a gale, or turning back against me again. I'm much more tired than a nap is able to clear.<br />
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5/19/2015<br />
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2:12:59 AM<br />
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Woke up to boat screaming along and bouncing over waves. I shot out and reefed to third reef, and slackened sheets as wind had gone round some more to the south. Went inside, and boat was too slow. But it started raining, so I left it a bit, then went out and put just one reef in, and now - 2 knots! Wind died. I hope it comes back after the rain finishes. It's difficult adjusting sails in the dark, not being able to see what's coming - like rain clouds. 56 miles to go. Ship bearing down on me, the first for several days.<br />
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7:12:07 AM<br />
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I awoke at dawn to find the boat moving very slowly. I went straight out to get it going again. Black clouds ahead. The wind has shifted a little against me. There are just 38 miles to go to the southern corner of Flores, and I need to sail 114 degrees to get there, but can currently manage just 104. What a pain it would be to have to tack that last bit round the island. I'm going to have to be outside most of the day, squeezing the boat as tight to the wind as I can manage. I really had expect the wind to be westerly by now, so it would have been a fast and easy sail in the end.<br />
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10:41:21 AM<br />
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Can't make the southern tip and the wind is increasing, so decided to go around the north of the island. I just hope the wind shifts a bit to the west so that I get the shelter of the island, and I don't have to tack down the other side.<br />
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18 miles to the tip, and the island is clearly in view. There's a halo round the sun, so I think the sooner I get in, the better.<br />
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Around the north end of the island, I was sheltered from the wind and got the outboard out. It started 2nd pull, which was pleasing. However, when I got to the NE corner of the island, the wind was howling again, and the engine flat out could only push the boat through at 2 knots. I had to steer by hand. I looked for an anchorage along the east coast, but in them all there was a lot of swell, not much shelter and poor access to the shore. The last option was to go into the marina in Lajes, on the SE corner of Flores. This would be the last option because I expected that as soon as I turned the slight corner at Santa Cruz, I'd have no shelter from the wind at all, and I wasn't sure if the engine would be sufficient to get through. And also, it would be the first marina I'd been in for two years. In that whole period, I'd anchored, for free. And then there was the difficulty of manoeuvring a catamaran with just one little outboard on one side in a marina full of expensive yachts.<br />
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There was no need to worry. As soon as I left Santa Cruz, it poured with rain, and the wind stopped entirely. The manoeuvring wasn't so hard at all, with the assistance of the harbour master, and Jak the Dutch ex-pilot. He seemed genuinely pleased to see me, and gave me the news.<br />
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He'd been in for four days. That's what a good diesel engine can do for you. Waterman had just left for Faial. He'd reported winds of 40 knots on his crossing, but sustained no damage (a gale is 35 knots). Jak had recorded 50 knots of wind, and for the first time, he'd had a wave come over his stern and fill the cockpit, overflowing into the cabin and smashing a window. He said the forecast he saw for the period showed waves averaging 15', with a maximum of 30' and steep. But we all got off lightly.<br />
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There was a group of boats that left soon after I arrived in Bermuda. Johnny, a single-hander I didn't meet but heard a lot about - he was dismasted 200 miles west of the Azores, rigged up a spinnaker pole as a temporary mast, and sailed the rest of the way with his storm sails. He repaired his mast within days and has sailed on.<br />
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<a href="http://www.noonsite.com/Countries/Portugal/death-of-young-girl-who-braved-30-foot-mid-atlantic-waves-2013-may-2015" target="_blank">A French couple had their boat sink.</a> The were rescued by a freighter. There was one other dismasting, another rescue I vaguely heard of, and then another sinking. Mother, father and 7-year old daughter. They were in the water for several hours before they were rescued, and the little girl died of hypothermia soon after. So the relief of being tied to a pontoon at last, unscathed from the voyage is tempered by sadness for those who weren't so lucky.<br />
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I emailed the photo of Tilly Mint from Flores to the skipper, and he replied informing me that they were growing a little concerned about me when I didn't arrive at Horta (which I had told them at the time was my destination). Tilly Mint had a knockdown (mast hitting the water) at 4:00 am that morning, and afterwards, their steering broke in a flat calm - they're assuming that the steering was damaged during that night.<br />
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And there I was querying why I was so far out to sea in such a little boat in such conditions. The conditions, according to people with wind instruments and forecasts, were quite a bit worse than I suspected at the time. With hindsight, the boat handled it much better than I gave it credit for. So far, it's just Scrumpy and Waterman who came through with no damage.<br />
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I'm coming to the conclusion that every catamaran should be fitted with attachment points and blocks to handle an adjustable drogue, or in extremis, to attach a Jordan series drogue. The tactic of using sail to maintain a speed of around 7 knots downwind, at the same time as the drogue to minimise excessive surfing speeds and to help hold the stern into the wind seems to be ideal, if there's sea room to run downwind.John Pedersenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075810649821408370noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4354509970687101247.post-81726019167535748702015-05-20T20:37:00.000+01:002015-05-20T20:37:18.959+01:00BermudaThis blog has become a little disjointed I'm afraid. I have just arrived in the Azores, but it will take me a little while to put together a blog post about the crossing. In the meantime, here's a blog post on Bermuda that I didn't have time to post while I was there, with laptop issues to deal with, and then the sudden decision to leave.<br />
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.........................................<br />
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I was glad to have stopped in Bermuda. I was found myself talking jibberish to the immigration people when I went to clear in. They had clearly met people in my sorry state before. I simply hadn't appreciated how dog tired I was.<br />
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The anchorage in the protected lagoon seemed perfect.<br />
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The foreground is the iron hull of a 3-masted sailing ship.<br />
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Tobacco Bay was a nice walk over the hill from St George's Harbour.<br />
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<br />
Some places I wasn't allowed to go.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrFhEW8YwffpZTYHlGp90gKmPW0YvtmAzrXH9lCgHEgmXtyAw_N3Vy5UwVY8OuevoHobpztkirAqcQayYYX4ncmEr4DPNDC78CmfkmGy7NgZRcGGJoMkS_694ddn36V8u-dpZqStqQx4g/s1600/noTres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrFhEW8YwffpZTYHlGp90gKmPW0YvtmAzrXH9lCgHEgmXtyAw_N3Vy5UwVY8OuevoHobpztkirAqcQayYYX4ncmEr4DPNDC78CmfkmGy7NgZRcGGJoMkS_694ddn36V8u-dpZqStqQx4g/s640/noTres.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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And some I didn't want to go.<br />
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I was interested to read of people who had been here a little before me:<br />
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With time required to recover my wits, and no obvious weather windows coming up, I arranged for another laptop to be posted to me in Bermuda. That committed me to a week here at least.<br />
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With no repairs to do on my boat, it was nice to have the time to help someone else out.<br />
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Here's the new gooseneck I helped Neal design, on the left, next to the pathetic thing that was originally on his boat.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMAlNjqbTa1THu_d2F5bKwUNIqyzWQWYp0VkSz1lkQoa2wPkJz091Sxbu1zg0Ccydtf3y3WgC1EdCtCwZIwTYMMDXxXe8kNiC207u6hTPJe0VNe20ulYInVwdotbg8DBI23jlWFhvU8AY/s1600/goosenecks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMAlNjqbTa1THu_d2F5bKwUNIqyzWQWYp0VkSz1lkQoa2wPkJz091Sxbu1zg0Ccydtf3y3WgC1EdCtCwZIwTYMMDXxXe8kNiC207u6hTPJe0VNe20ulYInVwdotbg8DBI23jlWFhvU8AY/s640/goosenecks.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Here's the gooseneck fitted. Not exactly pretty, but it won't break.<br />
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I helped Ollie too, fixing his outboard and helping him load up with fuel and water. That didn't go so well though - we broke a vital component of his self-steering gear in the process, so he had to order another from Holland. Now he was committed to another week in Bermuda. Here's Ollie's boat. Not sure how much it cost, but he paid for the boat and his whole trip round the Caribbean for £15,000.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPe2LICyfWC8c72Fm4W14vmK2WyMRyPqAnSOD7z_0AcsS1azgNspgBBoa_qmyEXeH8Pt2tGN7GK07aZxcl7Z49dO6OJph1UYfro9ZoOT2_zPibG9jTrnZktg1pEAMIpJ_Eh_G13Z2e2os/s1600/olliesBoat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="464" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPe2LICyfWC8c72Fm4W14vmK2WyMRyPqAnSOD7z_0AcsS1azgNspgBBoa_qmyEXeH8Pt2tGN7GK07aZxcl7Z49dO6OJph1UYfro9ZoOT2_zPibG9jTrnZktg1pEAMIpJ_Eh_G13Z2e2os/s640/olliesBoat.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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It was blowing a near gale in the harbour. It seemed to do that most days. Sometimes it was worse. Here was another:<br />
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We'd sit about on our boats as they surged and bounced about in the harbour, needing to be around in case the anchor dragged, and often, unable to get ashore anyway. The locals say it is like winter, storm after storm passing through. There should be high pressure over the area, bringing settled weather, but instead a series of lows are passing through from the US.<br />
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Still, there was time for more walks, and Bermuda was much greener than the Bahamas, and I guess, it's Spring.<br />
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That gave me an idea. I invited Neal and his wife Darleen to dinner.<br />
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The salad was a fresh, colourful and cheap mixture of nasturtium leaves and flowers, and fennel, which was also common all over the island.<br />
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There were four single-handers waiting to leave Bermuda for the Azores. We formed a little club, which usually involved getting together on someone's boat at sundown, discussing the weather, having a beer, and telling tall tales.<br />
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When the laptop arrived, I swapped over the hard drive from my old one and I was good to go as they say. I checked the forecast with it, and here was a chance to leave coming up. There was a gap between the lows, and it would be good to take advantage of the westerly wind of the low that has just passed over before it fills in and the wind dies. I hurriedly did my shopping and cleared out with the immigration people.<br />
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By the time I'd returned from my shopping (forgetting eggs and cheese! :( ), Ollie had moved his boat close to mine. I had a nice protected spot, and Ollie wasn't missing any chances to take my place. As we said our goodbye's he passed me a large plastic bag full of tea bags. Of course, I'd forgotten to get more of them too, in my hurry. But why, I asked Ollie, are you giving me these? Do you have enough yourself? Ollie had plenty. He'd been on the phone to a friend in the UK, who was helping him to get his part for his self-steering gear. That friend turned out to be one of the crew who towed us into Luperon in the Dominican Republic. As a reward for their efforts, on finding they had no tea bags on board, I'd handed over ours (there were no more in Luperon - we'd looked already, as had they). So Ollie's friend had asked Ollie whether he'd be able to return the tea-bags. What a small but very nice world it is mostly, amongst the cruisers. When I left, I was sorry Ollie had to wait longer for his part. Oh well.<br />
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I hoisted sail. I was glad to leave the bouncy boisterous harbour, but I'd have happily spent more time in the company of the cruisers I met there. The Bermudans too, I found exceptionally kind and helpful and generous. That's Turks and Caicos, the Bahamas and Bermuda. I'd go back to any of those places, just to hang out with nice people somewhere warm.<br />
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<br />John Pedersenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075810649821408370noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4354509970687101247.post-74058890585089167922015-04-24T15:30:00.000+01:002015-04-30T18:23:16.892+01:00Passage to Bermuda<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">
14/4/2015</div>
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I took a pleasant walk down a long track marked private, past signs warning of rapid security responses to suspicious behaviour (the trick is to walk through as if you own the place, or at least as if you might be invited to such a place). Well, it might be the last walk for a while, and people who put up such signs are usually protecting the nicest places. There were many fancy houses, and hammocks under the palms, and volley ball courts and curly tailed lizards and woodpeckers. I took amusing photographs of it all and thought up witty and wonderful captions to go along with them and loaded the photos onto my laptop.</div>
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Tom from Triad called by to give me a giant can of grapefruit juice to mix half and half with the rum or to ward off the scurvy. I can't remember which. Anyway, thanks Tom, and I'm so glad we met and you were able to keep up.</div>
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I sailed off in the afternoon on a light breeze.<br />
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15/4/2015</div>
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Wind died slowly and I've been becalmed for the last 3-4 hours.</div>
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The laptop died. I can't fix it. Nothing shows on the screen. (That's why there are none of those final photographs of Georgetown, with all the witty captions.)</div>
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I have my little crappy spare laptop working but the keyboard is half bust and it has old versions of my navigation software. Still, it shows a chart and my position and connects to the AIS. So long as that one stays alive, I'm OK.</div>
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I've sailed 100 miles so far, 630 to go.</div>
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It's going to be a long night. It was a very hot day, and I snoozed through quite a bit of it, so not tired. There'll be no moon.</div>
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16/4/2015</div>
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At midnight, a light breeze arrived. Dead against, but I started tacking into it at 2.5 knots. 30 degrees off the desired course, but something!</div>
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Dawn. Wind steady force 1 all night, now turned another 5 degrees against me. So it's now coming almost directly from Bermuda. The forecast had been for beam winds coming more and more astern. Done 21 miles through the night, 17 closer to Bermuda. This is hardly progress.</div>
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The wind picked up later and I'm doing 5 knots close to wind across flat water. There are tall thick clouds to the north east. I think the low I was waiting to pass by has come further south than forecast. That's why I'm getting NE winds. And I remember a patch of calm before the NE winds came. So I'm getting the right pattern, but the pattern is further south. Not worried though. I'm too far south to be affected by the strong winds, and there were several days of decent wind from the S and SW forecast.</div>
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13:22</div>
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The wind increased and gradually I've been able to aim closer and closer to Bermuda, and eventually, free the sheets. It had been a lot of work adjusting the sails so frequently, so I set about making myself a nice lunch. Chick peas etc. I held off, spuds or pasta, in case I caught a fish. Water was boiling for pasta when a dorado struck, and emptied the fishing reel of line. I slowed the boat and reeled in the biggest one yet. The last one had provided two meals for 5 people. I didn't put a lot of potatoes in the pan.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBd-dTaloTQcLTXyjAYrhP3GpQK4a4Bp-4TJ-LYtUdf6ViN2g-PPCg0PYeMtLGjyG_u5e59akmP0GDfcaTMvvtHuigWCxd8Ttcdr7OFgdNm91FWgaS0gXD61MdvGXaJsoZCkGcjzQdK88/s1600/DSCN2412.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBd-dTaloTQcLTXyjAYrhP3GpQK4a4Bp-4TJ-LYtUdf6ViN2g-PPCg0PYeMtLGjyG_u5e59akmP0GDfcaTMvvtHuigWCxd8Ttcdr7OFgdNm91FWgaS0gXD61MdvGXaJsoZCkGcjzQdK88/s1600/DSCN2412.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">The fish was just cooked when I noticed a water spout forming under a black cloud.</span><br />
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Unfortunately I stood watching it open mouthed rather than look for my camera, but you can still make out the top and bottom of the spout on the right of the picture (it became disconnected in the middle).</div>
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I decided to evade that one, but a line of black cloud formed across my path and it seems unlikely I'll find my way through a gap.</div>
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19:15</div>
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Phew. What a day. Squalls. Mostly flat seas, then the wind comes and I'm doing 8 knots steady and hold that for as long as I dare, then reef the mainsail and swap jibs, then when the wind dies again, put a bit more sail up, but not as much as before cos now the sea is all lumpy and after a while the boat starts to wallow, and more sail is needed. Then it's a bumpy 5 knots or so till the sea flattens or the next squall comes.</div>
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The wind turned dead against and increased. I reduced sail and was still going 4.5 knots through rough water and at only 10-20 degrees. So I was basically sailing north, and I know that further north there's a strong east wind, so I gave up and hove to, for the first time with this boat. It's nowhere near a gale, but parking this way is easy and comfortable. I just left the reefed mainsail up and tied the tiller to leeward. The boat sits pointing close to the wind, going nowhere. I should be able to get some sleep though there was lightning upwind, so maybe a thunderstorm is coming. No moon, pitch black, so hard to tell.<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">17/4/2015 06:23</span></div>
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I awoke to the sound of the bathroom floor floating about, banging on the hull sides. It had rained so much in the night that the rain catching system had caused the giant green bucket to overflow. The collecting tank in the kitchen had also overflowed, but not enough to float the floors.</div>
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More urgent than dealing with that though was my own need for a bucket. Yesterday's large lunch of fish made me feel a little queasy all day, but there was so much fish to eat and it would have been such a waste that I had the same again for dinner. Not so good. Sadly, the rest will have to go overboard later, and I won't fish again unless I get desperately sick of beans. It's such a waste to kill such a big beautiful fish.... This one had a companion that swam alongside it till it was lifted into the boat.</div>
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I drifted just two miles to the east through the night, and now there is light wind and large messy swells and large clumps of black clouds in every direction. I'm not sure if it would be worth the bother of putting up sail to try to make some progress through the slop, or just leave it and wait for kinder steadier weather.</div>
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Why did I collect rain water anyway? My tanks are full enough. I had a vague idea of doing dinner laundry, but I have only two items that need washing.</div>
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13:09</div>
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I sailed through the slop, making the best of it, but it was hard work. An unpleasant motion and I frequently needed to adjust the sails and then stop the main boom bashing about. When the mainsail flaps about it puts a great strain on the gooseneck fitting, which I've had doubts about since the day it was fitted.</div>
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The gooseneck attaches the boom to the mast, allowing articulation up and down and from side to side. But when the mainsail bangs about, there is a rotational force on the fitting too, which causes a creaking and groaning I don't like at all. It is the only source of creaking on the boat, although there is one other source of groaning. I'd mentioned this problem to Tom and he showed me the gooseneck on Triad, which does allow the boom to rotate, the first design I've seen like that. When I mentioned that this might be a problem to the rigger that fitted the gooseneck, he said yeah, they break - keep the old one as a spare. Hmm, not so clever. I keep the gooseneck wet with WD40, and tie a preventer to the boom too, but this means there's an extra rope to undo and refasten every time I adjust the mainsail. Maybe I'm being over cautious.</div>
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Large black clouds in front and behind.</div>
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I hear loud thunder from behind and I'm beginning to think I'm doomed, but instead of being overtaken by a squall, the clouds spread out to fill the sky, and now I'm left sailing in grey gloom with lots of rain. The rain flattens the waves generated by the nearby wind, but great swells remain, coming from the east, and sailing over it at 6-7 knots is a bit roller coasterish. However, it's nice to be making decent speed directly to Bermuda for once, so no complaints.</div>
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I dumped the fish, and I'm feeling better now. I'm feeding on bananas, as it turns out the yellow, green and really green ones I bought are all ripening at the same time again, despite even going to the trouble of putting some hard green ones in the other cabin so they're not affected by the ether released by the ripening ones.</div>
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The crap little laptop warns me of a ship nearby. It proves the AIS is working. Actually, the phone is better for navigating, but the laptop is necessary for AIS. It uses quite a bit more electricity though, and there was little sun yesterday, and none at all today.</div>
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19:20</div>
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I've been drifting about often at 2 knots or less. I've decided even 2 knots is better than nothing. Nearly fifty miles a day. It's a struggle to minimise wear on the sails and to keep changing the sails about with every wind shift, bit what else to do? Sit and wait?</div>
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I seem to be in the middle of a low. I haven't seen the sun all day, and it has been raining half the time. I just wear a rain jacket and no trousers - it's too much, too hot, too much hassle to find waterproof trousers as well, and I now have 3 wet pairs of trousers, so I've given up.</div>
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At the last sail change I saw a great tuna jump out very close to the boat, leaping like a dolphin. The tail was vertical, not horizontal, but I wasn't sure if I could believe my eyes, so I hoped it would jump again. It did, one more time, right beside the cockpit where I was looking for it, a magnificent tuna. :)<br />
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18/4/2015 00:40</div>
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I awoke to find the boat doing 3 knots under a starry sky. Much relieved! Perhaps steady winds at last, so I raised the main and I'm now doing 4.5-5 knots on target. Worth getting up for, and still a steady motion to go to back to sleep with.</div>
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08:31</div>
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Only two major sail changes in the night, and I slept solid the rest of the time. I'd expect to feel totally refreshed, but I'm not. Still the wind is benevolent, light and from astern. I was surprised not to see the sun - there is thick cloud all about again, especially from behind. I'm doing my best to run away from it. It's nice to be able to sit about without having to keep out of the sun, but the batteries could really do with charging more now. I think they've had 3 days of thick cloud.</div>
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The black clouds don't bring heavy wind. Not squalls. Just rain. So I stay indoors with all windows and doors shut. This allows me to keep my trousers on. I feel more civilised with trousers on.</div>
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17:07</div>
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Halfway to Bermuda. It's been pretty slow so far with one night hove to and another becalmed, and then light headwinds.</div>
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Today, all day since dawn, the boat has sailed at 6 knots or more with the genoa and jib together on the forestay. Wind dead steady, and perfect speed. I'd get bored, but I'd gladly go all the way like this. The black clouds brought only a little rain. All day, the cloud everywhere I can see has gradually lifted higher and higher and they are no longer gloomy and menacing. Hopefully, tomorrow, after three very dark days unlike any I've seen in the Caribbean ( I guess I'm not in the Caribbean any more) there might be sunshine. I do my best to catch whatever sunshine is available.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">I'm actually a bit cold, late afternoon. Guess I'd better get used to that.</span><br />
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19/4/2015 04:36</div>
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Becalmed. The wind has been constant in direction, from behind, for 36 hours, which has been great, but it started to slow at dusk and now progress isn't worth having the sails flapped about by the sails. 312 to Bermuda, 394 from Bahamas. Quite a bit of cloud about which is a shame. The batteries really need some sunshine. This crappy laptop uses twice as much power as my bust one did.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHZiEKu52UYf99xOW3czaD8soeJq9KVyPMuqEErAc-ag6BLI3jb4i24WjZDMY2ahnM9vZNfqPabLqzC61ylH7JZ4S7PAlO3JpYyNY93Dh8GaeBKShhtdby2vd5xqqmI3ZK7LPgAYOOPqc/s1600/DSCN2442.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 12.8000001907349px; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHZiEKu52UYf99xOW3czaD8soeJq9KVyPMuqEErAc-ag6BLI3jb4i24WjZDMY2ahnM9vZNfqPabLqzC61ylH7JZ4S7PAlO3JpYyNY93Dh8GaeBKShhtdby2vd5xqqmI3ZK7LPgAYOOPqc/s1600/DSCN2442.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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I've worn a jumper all night. It's been necessary!</div>
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09:01</div>
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A light westerly came at dawn, and I got the boat going at 1-2 knots. I was wondering if the amount of electricity used by the autopilot was worth the progress, and decided I should alter the autopilot settings so that it is less sensitive. That helped a lot. I think I have reduced the power consumption and wear and tear by at least a third. It's something I should have done a long time ago.</div>
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I've found also that I can put the little laptop to sleep and just check it every now and again for ships. That saves a lot of power too. Obvious, but if I'd put the other laptop to sleep, it wouldn't wake up, so I'd forgotten about that facility.</div>
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The sun came out, so I've hung the solar panels over the bow and the batteries are slurping up the power. Phew.</div>
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It's quite cool outside. Clear though, and that is much pleasanter than the overcast gloom and rain I've had the last few days. I saw a large dolphin and I see lots of Portuguese man-of-wars, or is it Portuguese men-of-war? Jelly fish with sails. Yeah, really. Did I mention the fish that fly already?</div>
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11:47</div>
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The wind is now from the east, coming from Bermuda. I'm close-hauled again, making just 3 knots. Approaching Bermuda at 1.5 miles per hour.</div>
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16:04</div>
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A little yellow bird called by.</div>
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It doesn't eat rice. I know this because I scattered rice over the deck wherever it landed. It looks like an insect eater, so I had nothing better to offer.</div>
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It got fed up with having rice thrown at it after a flight of at least 350 miles so it went indoors and studied French.</div>
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At last the wind has changed a little. I'm only 30 degrees off course now, but it seems to have settled on that. Hmmm, all I can do is use whatever wind I find to take the course that will bring me closest to the target. At least the batteries are now well charged.<br />
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20/4/15 07:06</div>
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232 miles to Bermuda. The wind very gradually turned more southerly and every hour or so through the night I'd adjust course a bit and finally at 4:30 I was able to point the boat directly at Bermuda. I've now also been able to loosen the sheets a little, and I'm making 4.5 knots. The wind is light, but I have a reef in the main and just the little jib up. The waves are all over the place but mostly I'm bashing into them so I keep it slow till the seas even out a bit.</div>
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Cloudy again. This isn't the tropics any more. This is the sub tropics. I've had a jumper on the last 24 hours and I slept under a duvet.</div>
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16:05</div>
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I've had headwinds all day, but at least I didn't have to tack. The wind got up and I had to put a second reef in the mainsail. I'd had waves over the roof occasionally, but it was just waves the windward bow dug into and flipped up. They are not that big at all really. The waves are hardly breaking even, but they're messy. Putting the second reef in stopped the but digging in, and it didn't show the boat much at all.</div>
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Dark cloud ahead again, so I'm guessing the wind will go round the clock, becoming southerly then westerly which would suit me fine. I'm thinking I could do with a day or two at anchor to get my bearings. It feels like I've been inside a washing machine for a few days. I'd certainly like to leave Bermuda with a following wind for at least a few days. Far pleasanter and easier than this bashing to windward palaver.<br />
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21/4/15 06:40 </div>
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134 miles to Bermuda.</div>
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Tuesday already! I've been out nearly a week. I feel overdue.</div>
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The wind did what I told it and it is now from just east of south. It was quite strong in the night, so I made good but bouncy progress. Wind lighter this morning, but still bouncy! Doing 4.5 knots and there are no breaking waves. I should be able to set more sail and get going but the waves are all over the place and the bows dig in quite often even at this speed. I guess the seas are a result of the fact that the wind coming from so many directions.</div>
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I was sitting on the bucket in the cockpit thinking about raising more sail anyway when a wave came over the bow, bounced on the bridgedeck roof and went down my back. I left the sails as they were.</div>
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Another day so grey it doesn't matter where I put the solar panels. Which is OK as I'd probably get wet moving them. The sea is quite a bit colder than the Bahamas and it occurred to me in the night that I should find a thicker duvet.</div>
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I'm quite wobbly on the legs in the morning. But it's hard to tell, the boat being so wobbly. I would very much like to take a walk. I've decided to definitely stop in Bermuda, whatever the wind is doing. For a rest, and to walk awhile before the next stage of my confinement.</div>
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I might have to temporarily seal up the kitchen hatch too. Waves keep getting in there, and it's not good for the cooker, and I'd be no good without a cooker.</div>
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16:53</div>
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I did put full sail up at last and have spent most of the day sailing at 6-7 knots. I can't help it, but progress or the lack of it affects the mood greatly. Half an hour ago, black cloud came from behind and I put a couple of reefs in the main so I wouldn't have to do it in the rain. The rain came, and the wind has become more westerly as expected. There's a pattern to this weather.</div>
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61 miles to go to the nearest edge of Bermuda. It's a week now to do 730 miles. That's a bit pathetic.<br />
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22/4/2015 </div>
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06:00</div>
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It's dawn sort of. Low dark grey cloud all around. And chilly. But at least there is a light and favourable wind that has had me going a good speed through the night with just one sail change. The miles I've been measuring to Bermuda were to the closest corner.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh60Pe0qb-t2b9_7l_miylXNDnoCTUS7AawbHkHuiVm-nWodNvW00H4UgK-AKKUZ9gzhoisuGv4YCR-divHLwaqvrKGWT3uOkmhKdJzoaWMRPJSfoBrSeVGGZ8CFrsR0xmSb-_E060BtDI/s1600/DSCN2457.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh60Pe0qb-t2b9_7l_miylXNDnoCTUS7AawbHkHuiVm-nWodNvW00H4UgK-AKKUZ9gzhoisuGv4YCR-divHLwaqvrKGWT3uOkmhKdJzoaWMRPJSfoBrSeVGGZ8CFrsR0xmSb-_E060BtDI/s1600/DSCN2457.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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The harbour is on the opposite corner, and I've had to sail round some shallow areas that are full of fish traps. So, 20 miles to go to the island and 15 or so, up the coast to the harbour.</div>
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Here's the harbour entrance at last.</div>
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And Scrumpy anchored finally. Just in front of the cannon.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHZYGbdo2tNbRmvGqOcRiSz2AFK0-wakmxF8tsxIc4hzF-00pbiqzHLLBrEVC25SUpHzbS28CF9nDB9hSfdFs126-9yVVOGyj3gZxMIeb5a5RMmCleW1S_XVZzA5u2MFTyxEmKHKLXV0Q/s1600/DSCN2460.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHZYGbdo2tNbRmvGqOcRiSz2AFK0-wakmxF8tsxIc4hzF-00pbiqzHLLBrEVC25SUpHzbS28CF9nDB9hSfdFs126-9yVVOGyj3gZxMIeb5a5RMmCleW1S_XVZzA5u2MFTyxEmKHKLXV0Q/s1600/DSCN2460.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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Easy eh?</div>
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Here's the route a tired man makes looking for a spot to anchor. I'm early in the season. There are only a few yachts here. There's lots of room! It's just that I can't think straight!</div>
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At anchor, Neil from a neighbouring catamaran came over to invite me to a barbeque (too tired) and to ask if he might borrow some tools. His boat was robbed 3 times in Luperon and he has very few tools left. He needs to replace his gooseneck.</div>
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<br />John Pedersenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075810649821408370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4354509970687101247.post-8067261253134344592015-04-15T11:50:00.000+01:002015-04-15T11:50:39.286+01:00DepartureThis will be the last blog post for a while. I have no satellite phone, and so no connection to the net. I'd like one - I could get a weather forecast each day and adjust my course accordingly. But then, I'd like a boat that was a little bit longer, and I'd like there to be less stuff on board (I'm taking home power tools I used to repair the boat in Antigua), and I'd like newer sails and... well, in the end, you draw a line through your list of what's needed and what's wanted and everything under the line becomes part of a would-have-been-nice list. And then you go.<br />
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I'm aiming for San Miguel, the east-most island of the Azores, 2730 miles away. That might seem a strange choice of destination. Bermuda is on the track, and Faial is a more convenient Azore. But there are cheap flights from the UK to San Miguel, so my wife can fly to meet me and we can spend a few weeks sailing and hiking. So San Miguel it is. Maybe I'll stop by Bermuda, for a fresh forecast mainly - it depends on the weather when I'm around there. I'd be loathe to sacrifice favourable wind for the time taken to obtain a new forecast.<br />
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I'll keep some sort of log on the crossing, and post it here when I arrive in San Miguel (or wherever).<br />
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In the meantime, this seems an appropriate place to answer some of the questions I'm frequently asked about sailing across oceans single handed.<br />
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Here's a question I like: what do you do at night? I've found that if I don't answer right away, the question might be followed by a further question, like whether I anchor each night, or if there is anywhere to stop. These questions display such an innocence about what is involved in crossing an ocean in a small boat (of course, most people have no reason to give it a moment's thought) that I can't help teasing, suggesting there are service stations along the way at convenient locations, or suggesting that since the Atlantic Ocean is no more than 10 metres deep, it is easy to anchor wherever I choose.<br />
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What I really do at night is what most people do, I go to sleep. I have electronic self-steering gear. I only steer for a few minutes of most sailing trips - sailing in crowded harbours. For all of the rest of the time, I have a little robot that steers the boat. Because I sometimes sail alone, the little robot is crucial. So crucial that I have two backups, and in case all three fail, or lightning wrecks my electrics, I have bungee cords to attach to the tiller so that I can rig a rudimentary self-steering system that relies on just the wind. Steering across an ocean is boring, and prevents you from doing other important things like cooking, reading, relaxing, navigating, sleeping and fixing stuff, in no particular order.<br />
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I'm always a little anxious on the boat. It's not so bad. If the wind changes when I am asleep, I notice and wake up, and adjust the sails and or the course if necessary. Every noise carries information. Every clunk and bang and whoosh - I seem to hear them all. And if I can't identify the noise, I have to get up and find the source.<br />
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Ships - I think I covered this in my mention of AIS in the last post. And I have a radar alarm too. An alarm goes off if a ship is running radar beams across the boat.<br />
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Floating stuff to collide with: as I can't look out all the time, this is just a risk I have to accept. I reassure myself that I am sailing on a catamaran with no ballast, and I have several full bulkheads, so even damage under the waterline need not be catastrophic. And I haven't hit anything yet, in over 40,000 miles. Had to swerve a couple of times, that's all.<br />
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Whales. I used to consider them benign and wonderful, and I was dismissive of stories of hitting sleeping whales or being attacked by one. But then I was chased by one... but it never caught me, and it was only one out of hundreds of encounters. I still consider them usually benign, and still wonderful, but I'm more wary.<br />
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Storms. I avoid them as much as possible. I set off with a favourable forecast, and choose a route to avoid high winds. I've experienced a lot of storms - when I first started sailing, I was under the impression that my boat ought to be pretty much invulnerable, capable of handling any storm, and I just had to learn to be the same way. I learned alright, eventually, to check the weather forecast and avoid storms. But the boat has to be able to endure a storm. On a long voyage, encountering one may be unavoidable. As my last resort, I have a Jordan series drogue, which I have never yet deployed. But I have a lot of confidence in it, especially as my experience with drogues made of adjustable loops of rope with a chain on the end have proved very effective in limiting the top speed of the boat as it surfs down waves. So I'll do all I can to avoid storms, but I have equipment to deal with very rough seas.<br />
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Calms. On a monohull, calms mean rolling. The boat picks up some momentum from swell, and starts rolling, and the rolling gets amplified by each new swell and stuff gets thrown around, and people are tipped out of bunks, then the swell and the rolling get out of synch and it all stops, only to gradually start all over again. It's maddening. On a multihull, the boat just stops. No rolling at all. You can sleep, rest, cook, read, whatever. I once spent 5 days becalmed in the Mediterranean, and ran out of water after two. I made a solar still from an inflatable dinghy, putting a bit of seawater in the bottom, and covering it with polythene. A shackle in the middle of the polythene made the fresh water condensing on the polythene run into a pan. Two of us had enough water for drinking and cooking that way. Calms can be very nice. In the Biscay, I had two nights surrounded by whales and dolphins, and went to sleep each night with the only sound being their breathing, little short puffs from the dolphins, and great wheezing expulsions from the whales. Soon I learned to distinguish individuals from their breathing sounds. Some I thought, might have lung infections, or colds - it sounded that way. Those two nights were magical. But anyway, usually people assume I'd motor through calms. Many boats travelling through areas prone to calms carry all the spare fuel they can with ranks of jerry cans lashed to their guardrails. I have to travel light in a little catamaran, but this means my light weather sails can really make the boat go. I have occasionally sailed past a monohull motoring in what they regarded as a calm. I have 2 gallons of petrol on board, enough for getting in and out of harbours. That will have to do. If I'm becalmed, I'll stop, and I'll be 'late'.<br />
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Calms can be hard work too. Sometimes a little wind picks up, and you pile on the sail, and move slowly, and then it stops, or changes direction radically requiring a sail change, but with the wind so light, you wonder if it is worth the work. Fickle light winds are tiring for crew and cause a lot of wear on the sails.<br />
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Of all the stuff that could happen out there, the real issues people seem to want to know about are loneliness and fear. Loneliness I deal with by remembering the brevity of my isolation - 2, 3, 4, 5 weeks max. And remembering the several people who will not have forgotten me within that time. And fear? There's the useful and practical fear, which has me climbing the mast to check the standing rigging, and swapping halyards round end-for-end to change the places the ropes are wearing, and generally being aware of the state of the boat and the state of the weather, and tweaking and adjusting things to prevent chafe and wear and stress. And then there's the useless fear, which comes when I am over-tired or stressed - the fear of doom, which is no different to the fear landlubbers and sailors alike feel in the middle of a wakeful night. My solution to that one is culled from years of studying the wisdom of the east (it took me a long time to discover there's much less of it than advertised), and a persistent but usually fruitless interest in psychology and philosophy - turn over, and go back to sleep.<br />
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So, if you haven't forgotten me in the meantime, you'll soon see a splendid blog post here describing the Atlantic crossing, full of interesting details and observations and jokes that occurred to me that I had no-one to tell and expressing delight at having had such cushy weather for the crossing. Fingers crossed.<br />
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<br />John Pedersenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075810649821408370noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4354509970687101247.post-80158774811807582192015-04-12T14:44:00.004+01:002015-04-12T14:44:28.949+01:00Getting a cup of coffee on the last Bahama.<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Marsh Harbour on Great Abaco is 100 miles north and east of West Bay, Nassau, so when a gentle east south east wind was forecast, I went for it. It meant an overnight passage, but Marsh Harbour would make a good jumping off point for going back across the Atlantic. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">The boat sailed well all afternoon on an easy close reach, sometimes hitting 7 knots. At dusk, the wind faded, and there was a shipping channel to cross south of Great Abaco. I was very appreciative of the AIS (Automatic Identification System) I've fitted. Mine has a transmitter and receiver, so the ships can see me on their computers as easily as I can see them on mine.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Here are two tankers coming from the west, and two cruise ships coming from the east. I turned close into the wind to slow the boat down, and at around 3.5 knots, I can see by the AIS that this would allow tanker 1 to pass half a mile north of me. After he'd gone, I'd be able to proceed at whatever speed I could make.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">However, this tactic doesn't seem satisfactory to the tanker pilot, and he turns 25 degrees to pass two miles south of me. How nice!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">It may seem odd for a tanker to get out of the way of a little yacht, but the nautical rules of the road stipulate that sailing boats have right of way over motor boats, unless they are in a channel which constrains the bigger boat's manoeuvrability. Whenever two boats might collide, it needs to be established who has right of way. The boat with right of way is obliged to continue the course they are on until the danger is passed. The other boat must manoeuvre around the first boat. Rules of the road on the sea can get very complicated, depending on what angles boats are meeting at, and where the wind is coming from, but in all situations, it must be established who has to hold their course, and who moves about - otherwise, if two boats both try to get out of each other's way, things could quickly go wrong.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">I do like my AIS! I can set an alarm too, which goes off if a ship might collide with me, and I use this far out at sea so I can sleep without too many nightmares. All ships over 200 tons are obliged to have AIS running, and so far, every ship I have encountered I have seen first on the AIS. And they have been able to see me, and find out that I am on a 9m sailing boat, and they can see how fast I am going at what angle, and what would be our closest point of approach.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Tom, get yourself an AIS!</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Anyway, I sailed up the coast of Great Abaco through the night, snoozing and checking every half hour or so for other boats - there were none. At dawn, I was approaching the entrance to Marsh Harbour, and put the kettle on for coffee. The gas ran out. I tried switching bottles. I had just one left - a great big bottle I'd bought in the Dominican Republic when I found I was unable to fill my European bottles there. As soon as I turned the valve on, gas whistled out. The valve was bust. My great big bottle of gas, that I had filled at great expense and carried a mile back to the boat (with Jack's help) at Georgetown, was useless. No coffee for me.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">In fact, no nothing for me. I'm on a gluten-free diet because someone with a crystal told me my energies were being sapped by gluten. Actually, it was a doctor with an antibody test and the diagnosis was confirmed by an endoscopy. So I'm on a stupid diet, which means there are almost no ready-made snacks available for me. Almost everything I eat I have to cook first, and with no gas... hungry times!</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">The bottle was useless without a leak-proof valve, and to change the valve would require the bottle to be empty. The best place to empty the bottle would be out at sea.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">What a waste! But I could see no way to capture the gas - I tried connecting another bottle but the regulators only allow gas to come out of a bottle, not go in. So I just let it out into the air. The whistling soon stopped.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">The bottle was frozen. I threw a bucket of sea-water over it, and the gas started flowing out again, but not for long. I threw a few more bucketsful over it, but I really needed to navigate - I was sailing the boat down channels between reefs, and I needed to pay attention to that. I also needed to be able to start the engine if the channel forced me directly into the wind. I didn't want to start the engine with the air full of propane. But I did want rid of the propane before I got to harbour. Discharging it in a possibly crowded anchorage wouldn't be good. One solution:</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">That got it fizzing. The sea warmed the bottle enough to stop ice building up as gas escaped. :)</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Once I'd anchored, I rowed to the shore with my big and now empty gas bottle. I assumed I'd need to find a new gas valve for the bottle first, and then go to the gas filling station. I came across a hardware store, and having told the proprietor of my predicament, I was told I needed to take a taxi quick to the gas filling station. It was Saturday (I never keep track) and the place closes at noon till Monday. It was 11:30 am. I was hoping to sail for the Azores on Sunday, if the weather was kind. There being no taxis obvious, the proprietor collared a fellow in his shop and instructed him to take me to the filling station, a couple of miles away, and so we were off.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Gas bottle valves must fail often, because it was standard practise at the filling station to fit a working second-hand one onto a bottle for a tip. $5 seemed sufficient. Then back to the boat, attach the bottle, and finally, a cup of coffee at lunch-time.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">After breakfast/lunch, a mad run around town buying all the supplies I need for a trans-Atlantic voyage, because tomorrow is Sunday, and perhaps nothing will be available. And then, at the end of the day, I find a wifi connection, check the weather, and realise I have to stay put. The forecast has changed. Now I have to start eking out my gas, carefully preserve my new perishables and be ready to go when the wind god interpreters suggest the omens are good.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Boats eh? </span></span><br />
<br />John Pedersenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075810649821408370noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4354509970687101247.post-32722280753393105202015-04-08T16:46:00.002+01:002015-04-08T23:46:46.954+01:00Fowl Cay to NassauWe stopped by Highbourne Cay, as it was about halfway to Nassau and according to the guide, it had a shop. A squall on the way in livens things up. We were hitting 9-10 knots when we were easily passed by Tom doing 20 knots (he later admitted it was only 19.9). We were too busy reducing sail and avoiding reefs and getting wet for pictures. We didn't bother with the shop, Tom informing us that a head of lettuce there would cost $8. We didn't even launch the dinghy. Tom and Judy called us over to give us some of their provisions, so I combined what they had with what we had and called it a curry which we all mostly enjoyed. The chillies from I'd bought from a stall in Georgetown were a little hotter than anticipated.<br />
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Nassau is a city of 250,000 and covers the eastern half on New Providence Island. It's where everyone goes by default, but I didn't fancy any urban dystopia after all the quiet and gentle places we'd been recently, especially as there are many reports that Nassau is the murder and robbery capital of the Caribbean. I appreciate my chances of being murdered here are statistically low, but it makes for an unpleasant atmosphere I find. I was not charmed by St Lucia, and was not entirely surprised when a man was murdered on the yacht next door. On the whole, as a friend put it, 'less murdery' places are preferable. So we sailed into Jaws Beach, at the western end of the island, Triad and Scrumpy arriving at the same time on account of a head start, and a decent turn of downwind speed for Scrumpy.<br />
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It made it difficult to pull in the barracuda.<br />
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But at least we had something to offer Tom and Judy in return for their kindness on this route.<br />
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The bay is a gated community of small hotels and plush resorts with very many security guards, and the afternoon breeze wafted the piped music across the bay, that strange ponderous and deliberate continuous piano solo you normally only hear in lifts. We weren't allowed on the beach. Fortunately, there's a small public jetty too, and just beyond that, a nature reserve with walks through the woodland.<br />
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The nature reserve had its gates locked. By the gates a couple were scouring the ground, as if they'd lost something. They'd had their car robbed there the day before, and they'd returned to look for clues or discarded possessions.<br />
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There was an easy way round the gate, and I walked a couple of miles through the woods. The flora is clearly Floridian, but there was a great lack of turtles, snakes, lizards and birds that I'd expect in such an environment. On the whole walk, I saw a 2" lizard and a couple of birds. At a beach along the way:<br />
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An authority I've never heard of is declining to accept responsibility for acts of God and fellow beach goers. Important too, because it is red. People in offices eh? What they dream up!<br />
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Access to the preserved slave houses was denied. I didn't bother climbing over. The photograph seems apposite and sufficient.<br />
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On the way out I was approached by a uniformed woman. I'm inclined to avoid uniformed people, but the woman was making great efforts to get to me, possibly hampered by an excess of high fructose corn syrup, and it seemed rude to run, or just walk away. I waited and was told I ought to have paid someone somewhere $5 to be here, and I ought to have a bond. I'd expected an American flat-voweled accent, and was quite confused as to what sort of bond I should get for $5. But her accent was more plummy than a Brit's, and it was a band I ought to have had, tattooed apparently on my wrist. But I'd met no-one to pay anything to, and it seemed pointless getting a tattoo to leave. Not that I'd seen anything worth paying for.<br />
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I walked back to the boat along a road, and leaving the road for the beach, found some wildlife at last.<br />
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And at the beach, an osprey pulled a pipe fish from the water.<br />
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and sat on a low in a tree over the sand, eating the thing as it writhed hanging below a branch.<br />
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<br />John Pedersenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075810649821408370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4354509970687101247.post-57456159456532045312015-04-07T22:51:00.001+01:002015-04-07T22:51:56.790+01:00Staniel Cay to Fowl CayStaniel Cay is one of those places where the big posh boats go.<br />
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This kind of thing, which needs to anchor so far offshore, further boats are needed to get crew and guests ashore and back.<br />
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And this kind of thing, which is towing a fishing boat with a 70hp engine on the back, as well as carrying a dinghy at the back and another dinghy and a jet-ski on the top floor.<br />
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Some are almost as big as the islands they park beside. This one has set up a volley ball court, three tents, some tables and chairs with parasols. There's nothing else on the island.<br />
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So now you know, if you didn't before, where your tax evasion money goes, your obscene bonuses, your unearned trust funds and your unearned inheritances. Sponsoring private volleyball matches on private islands. I doubt very much that these people know or care about the price of vegetables.<br />
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This is another private island - Fowl Cay, where we are now anchored.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;">You weren't supposed to snort any until after you'd landed!</span></td></tr>
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Oh well, who needs drugs in a place like this?<br />
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This might be our last dive spot in the Bahamas, before the crew fly off to S America, and I sail back across the Atlantic. What we wanted was some food, some nice diving, and well, I've always had a secret wish for super powers. Would be handy wouldn't it, before a 3,000 mile solo voyage?<br />
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I found the food.<br />
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And Tom from Triad tried to catch it with his lobster noose, a sort of underwater lasso.<br />
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Sounds crazy but<br />
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And there was a bit of coral about, and some pretty fish, and some caves on Rocky Dundas - a tiny island a short row away.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rocky Dundas</td></tr>
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And in those caves inside Dundas, on our last dive on our last trip in the Bahamas, before our next big challenge, well, I finally got my super powers.<br />
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Of course, Sif wanted her own powers.<br />
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After that, we sealed the cave entrance so that no-one else could get in and steal the secret of our powers, leaving just a small gap for our nemesis in case we turn evil. Tom pointed out that today was Easter Sunday, and Jesus was beamed up to heaven from a cave on this day, but it's not those kind of powers we got Tom.<br />
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<br />John Pedersenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075810649821408370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4354509970687101247.post-79664370783627833922015-04-03T22:05:00.002+01:002015-04-03T22:05:47.407+01:00Staniel cayThere are a couple of things you must do in Staniel Cay. They won't let you leave otherwise. Dive into Thunderball cave, and feed the pigs. So we cracked on with it.<br />
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But first, if there's anyfink you need doing here, anyfink at all, just arsk Big Ray:<br />
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Not little Jimmy, he's no use.<br />
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Big Ray, he's da geezer.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cave daughter.</td></tr>
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Here comes a pig, to see what we've brought to feed him.<br />
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He takes a sniff at yesterday's rice and lentils.<br />
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But even a pig can be persuaded to eat the stuff.<br />
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Just throw it into their unsuspecting mouths.<br />
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There's got to be a caption for this one.. any suggestions?<br />
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I think we can go now.<br />
<br />John Pedersenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075810649821408370noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4354509970687101247.post-66788916547216466332015-04-03T13:43:00.000+01:002015-04-03T14:03:25.033+01:00North from GeorgetownI was going to write about my 2 mile walk to try the fishing at Crab Cay by Georgetown, only to find the way barricaded with barbed wire and gates, and a big warning sign about what happens to trespassers. I hate the presumption that land ownership precludes right of way. I habitually trespass, always have. But I remembered I hadn't found a post office yet, and so I hadn't yet paid for my cruising permit, so officially... it might be best not to take risks with officialdom, for the time being at least.<br />
<br />
Tie in the zillions of plastic bags in use here and caught in trees and bushes and in the harbours, and the use of vehicles so gigantic that you'd be inclined to think maximum fuel consumption was somehow mandatory - these islands are very small, and very flat - and I could get a good rant in about capitalism and consumerism gone mad.<br />
<br />
Oh, and the food waste at Exuma Market, Georgetown. We've got by in the last weeks with few vegetables, because they are so very expensive - and on top of that, often such poor quality that by the time you get them back to the boat, they have perceptively deteriorated. So when I noticed a shop worker throwing what looked like perfectly good vegetables into boxes to be discarded, I had to have a chat. He acknowledged the waste, and abhorred it himself. He'd have been as happy to eat it as I would. It gets dumped - occasionally he has managed to give a box to a passing boater, but he risks his job doing that. He wanted it to be given to the poor - and with food prices so high in the Bahamas, there are plenty who don't get enough good food. I checked the area where the 'waste' food gets loaded onto a truck, but was shown a security camera by one of the workers.<br />
<br />
Yeah, I was going to go off on one about all that, but then we went sailing. You wouldn't want the rant anyway. We have to get to Nassau by the 9th, for the crew to catch a flight. The wind was F4-5, and it was a close reach all the way up chain of islands, on the Atlantic side. We were looking for a cut to get through to the sheltered side, where all the shallow flat water is.<br />
<br />
After an hour or two, we were doodling along at 5 knots with reduced sail. The water was a bit lumpy, and we weren't planning on going far to go today, so it seemed best to let the boat idle through the waves. Then I saw a sail behind us, far off, but I could make out the square top of the mainsail, and I saw how fast the boat was gaining on us, and I reckoned that it could only be one boat out of the hundred or so in the anchorage. A Dick Newick design - a fantastically shaped boat, and though the design is old, still fantastically fast. To reduce embarrassment at being over-hauled at the threatened rate, I raised all sail, and we started clobbering our way through the waves at 7 knots. That's as fast as we could go.<br />
<br />
'Scrumpy, Scrumpy, this is Triad.'<br />
<br />
Yep, that's the boat. I'd seen the name when we sailed into Georgetown. I'd waved to the man with all the curves, and he waved back, looking at Scrumpy's own curves. We 'knew' each other already. So he's calling me now.<br />
<br />
'Hello Triad.'<br />
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'Hey Scrumpy. Nice boat you've got there. What's the design?'<br />
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<i>I'll translate. Hey Scrumpy, we're about to go screaming past you, which you'll probably find embarrassing, so I'm being polite with a heads-up.</i><br />
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'Hi Triad. Thanks - it's a Richard Woods Sagitta. I reckon yours is a Newick, and that we'll get a closer look soon?'<br />
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<i>(Glad I sneaked more sail up before he gets close enough to see!)</i><br />
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'Well, maybe, but we're just moseying along, with just the mainsail up.'<br />
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<i>I'm sorry, but this is going to really embarrass you, as we cruise past you half-rigged.</i><br />
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'Oh that's a shame Triad, I was hoping to get some nice pictures as you went by.'<br />
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<i>Oh come on! At least look like you're making some effort!.</i><br />
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'You're going to get your camera out? In that case, we'd better get the foresail up too.'<br />
<br />
Ah, he's going to let us off with some dignity, overtaking us with full working sail. Phew! Here he comes, with two sails up<br />
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Hello!<br />
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Goodbye!<br />
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Hey, Triad, there's always someone faster...<br />
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Right after that, the rod bent, and I turned the boat into the wind to slow us down. A dorado, at last!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeH6Gmbmy9kmu9rcJY16XGL2kJLDUwCKQ-Sa5Ea_zxaXqjbLG9Ryb6WzoWNTuX4kiBNDjAGZSJ4UNe8K_4E1UvyOF8g3EZzFpvnBvzDg2Jf8IQ7bHx9zjYuDlI3MU6q335DwYsUtZ4vi8/s1600/doradoJack.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeH6Gmbmy9kmu9rcJY16XGL2kJLDUwCKQ-Sa5Ea_zxaXqjbLG9Ryb6WzoWNTuX4kiBNDjAGZSJ4UNe8K_4E1UvyOF8g3EZzFpvnBvzDg2Jf8IQ7bHx9zjYuDlI3MU6q335DwYsUtZ4vi8/s1600/doradoJack.jpg" height="244" width="640" /></a></div>
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What colours!<br />
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It was a big one, so I called Triad and invited them to dinner. They were headed to Leaf Cay, which sounded nice as desert islands go, so we said we'd meet them there.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigpzmqlTzCWl9_1o-Tm3J-JokK11ojUabulV6s_va_-4nrYe2nnwdENLW6vEfYW8jr4xB_tr9GbMKHng1oJ6LhmpVn1QKRYL8nh3huemm6qn6TWkf6q9NdbMvtx7RS1gL1src45wZpXL4/s1600/fishCleaning.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigpzmqlTzCWl9_1o-Tm3J-JokK11ojUabulV6s_va_-4nrYe2nnwdENLW6vEfYW8jr4xB_tr9GbMKHng1oJ6LhmpVn1QKRYL8nh3huemm6qn6TWkf6q9NdbMvtx7RS1gL1src45wZpXL4/s1600/fishCleaning.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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Different colours.<br />
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A visitor! What could it be?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU66vTDFq6nVUmM3F_u7XdXh10550bZikMuPw01e7EpmNZcmxNN5OLppUpSAXCe-Dh4cWeqAvNJh89Rsr8tolGBvMqcSN4S10kHvq1EWNWTQ0upDouDXCT4ylEjiUCFs54UjqpNg6NnvM/s1600/sharkFin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU66vTDFq6nVUmM3F_u7XdXh10550bZikMuPw01e7EpmNZcmxNN5OLppUpSAXCe-Dh4cWeqAvNJh89Rsr8tolGBvMqcSN4S10kHvq1EWNWTQ0upDouDXCT4ylEjiUCFs54UjqpNg6NnvM/s1600/sharkFin.jpg" height="348" width="640" /></a></div>
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Looks like a shark alright, attracted by the fish guts.<br />
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Not shy then.<br />
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I figured hanging the stripped carcass of the dorado from the tiller bar might be fun. I threaded a rope through the fish, tied one end to the bar, and held the other end in my hand. I wanted to be able to release the rope, rather than have the shark bend my tiller bar.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcOpvWFDCnxDuSUApD4Wr56h9kDv4YGDS10yyWxZgsiH6yVocNpht05ieDEYgCPjs9gdfsKFogdNyslgzd1C2F2-kQkicJ103NhzCsASL_3iOaExezGYWNcb87Xol4R6JN1109oAn3_gk/s1600/bait.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcOpvWFDCnxDuSUApD4Wr56h9kDv4YGDS10yyWxZgsiH6yVocNpht05ieDEYgCPjs9gdfsKFogdNyslgzd1C2F2-kQkicJ103NhzCsASL_3iOaExezGYWNcb87Xol4R6JN1109oAn3_gk/s1600/bait.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzEf3ti0EYbV6IAICrKSsMSCVcx0BEwp0Q97dDzWP7BJUlH2WawuWho4tgzehgDlW9_RwHreE96UfSbXteDrt0_ccbI5lNROYP5lU2geK8_kmL2luCFWuPd-hIuS4XWSp-YJPqYot5mbg/s1600/shark4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzEf3ti0EYbV6IAICrKSsMSCVcx0BEwp0Q97dDzWP7BJUlH2WawuWho4tgzehgDlW9_RwHreE96UfSbXteDrt0_ccbI5lNROYP5lU2geK8_kmL2luCFWuPd-hIuS4XWSp-YJPqYot5mbg/s1600/shark4.jpg" height="448" width="640" /></a><br />
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It's a Bull shark, one of the more dangerous kinds..<br />
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Tom and Judy from Triad joined us for dinner. They brought a salad, with lots of stuff in it. Not just our usual cabbage and onion, but all kinds of vegetables, and cranberries and cashews and, well, you'd have to live on rice and beans for a good while to appreciate it. A long list of ingredients isn't going to do anything for you. Oh, and they brought rum too, and we all ate as much as we could of the fish, and we all had it for lunch the next day too. They've owned that boat for 23 years, and sail between New England and the Caribbean like it was nothing, but they typically hit 18 knots close reaching, and the boat is so slim and curved, the ride has got to be good, so maybe it is nothing. I pointedly didn't ask what sort of speed they get downwind. Fast enough is all. I got a tour of the boat next day, carbon fibre rotating mast, carbon in the daggerboard, foils in the outriggers to increase lift (good for another 2-3 knots, Tom says), and light, light, light. The tools would fit in my pocket. Even spares are minimal. The kitchen, the whole kitchen, would almost fit in my sink, and I don't have a big sink.<br />
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Next morning, at the beach, we are not alone!<br />
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So far, this is the most crowded beach we've been on in the Bahamas.<br />
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Tom's brought them some chopped apple.<br />
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Later, Tom offered me a fish spearing lesson. Excellent!<br />
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Look, no sharks.<br />
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It's all in the sneaking up on the fish, apparently. We scored zero, but had more close encounters than previously anyway. Thanks Tom!<br />
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There may be more of Tom and Judy later. Judy flies out of Nassau on the 9th too.<br />
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<br />John Pedersenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075810649821408370noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4354509970687101247.post-11037101006433665192015-03-28T22:49:00.002+00:002015-03-28T22:49:53.695+00:00Salt Pond, Long Island to Georgetown, ExumaWe sailed on up the west coast of Long Island, and dropped anchor where we found a wifi signal. A shallow draft boat and an wifi antenna is handy :) Bahamian people don't seem to bother with passwords any more than they do with locks.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Has someone stolen the lock?</td></tr>
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Long Island is 80 miles long, and no more than 4 miles across. There's a road from one end to the other - well, actually, it goes both directions. We anchored at Salt Pond, which the guide book described as having all we were needing - gas, fresh food, and all I'd be needing to stock the boat ready for crossing the Atlantic again. We needed water too. The stuff we got from the spring on Crooked Island was pretty dirty. I'd siphoned it through a makeshift filter (cotton wool, funnel) and added some bleach but it didn't taste nice and our guts weren't happy about it. However, there wasn't much of anything in Salt Pond - nice new buildings, a bar and a club house with verandahs and all, but boarded up, and a supermarket that was closed down. There was just a garage really, where we paid $20 for enough water to fill the tanks. I was told there was a bank 8 miles or so down the road, and set off walking. I was confident someone would stop to give me a ride, so I didn't try to hitch for a lift. I wanted to walk for a while. Little things catch my eye.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivGajBaYtVaG_jbFALQx3fIgsbTE44ZnUdnnwiVf0N7ODC8VVkxYbtrvEPSBUXfniwV3DtE7scEj6U0cXYQ7DLkXmRdYiGGh19_7PQJyVieGjCPs95BGc2A2xqk3vMl5ZFuR1soTuDXJA/s1600/realEstate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivGajBaYtVaG_jbFALQx3fIgsbTE44ZnUdnnwiVf0N7ODC8VVkxYbtrvEPSBUXfniwV3DtE7scEj6U0cXYQ7DLkXmRdYiGGh19_7PQJyVieGjCPs95BGc2A2xqk3vMl5ZFuR1soTuDXJA/s1600/realEstate.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small; text-align: start;">Why say it in a few words when there's room for so many more?</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small; text-align: start;">Elfin safety gone.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small; text-align: start;">400 yards from the sea.</span></td></tr>
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I made it for a couple of miles before a pickup screeched to a halt and took me to the bank. I was a minute at the ATM, walked back to the road, and immediately got a ride back to the boat. I was lucky to have managed the couple of miles walking.<br />
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Sorry, you weren't expecting quirky silly pictures? Not what you expect of a Caribbean trip. OK, here you go then...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small; text-align: start;">Another sunset, Salt Pond</span></td></tr>
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With the wifi, I emailed a weather server, and received a forecast I can display on my chart in the navigation program (OpenCpn). That showed a norther heading our way, and we were currently only sheltered from the east, so we decided to sail on the Georgetown, Exuma. Good shelter there, from every direction, if we can use the shallow draft of the boat to get in nice and close, somewhere too shallow for other boats to use. The charts on my laptop weren't as detailed as the charts on my phone, so I found a spot with the phone, and then used the app on the phone to plan a route though the coral reefs and sand banks and cays and rocks, and then transferred the waypoints to my laptop, and we set off on a nice reach. A steady 7 knots across flat water.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small; text-align: start;">I'm still not used to the colour of the water here.</span></td></tr>
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Did you hear what I did there? I logged onto the internet on the boat to check the weather and... To me, it's fabulous stuff. Look, here's a display from my laptop:<br />
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That's us, the red boat bottom right. The dashed line at the front of the boat is a vector showing where we'd be in half an hour's time on the current heading. The blue line with diamond shapes on is the route I have plotted. I saw a boat following the same route, and set the program to record his track, to see what I could learn from where he went. That's the purple/pink slightly wobbly line. He went very close to where I am aiming for, Kidd's Cove, so it's handy to follow him. What else - those green triangle things - they are other boats who are transmitting an AIS signal. I do the same, so the other boats can see me on their screens. From their triangles and any vectors in front of them, I can see at a glance who's going where. An alarm goes off if a crash is immanent. I can click on any of the boats and get lots of information about them, including their names, so that I can call them on the radio if I want.<br />
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All this technical stuff is available relatively cheaply. Any old laptop will do. I chose one that is doesn't use much power, to conserve electricity. It's worked fine for 3 years. The wifi antenna was £25 or so. The AIS box was a lot - nearly £450, but I bought a box that transmits as well as receives. Because I sail single-handed, it's best to be able to announce my position to other boats.<br />
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Here's where we arrived, from a screenshot on my phone (any phone with gps would do, and the navigation app, with all the charts of the Caribbean included, was £10):<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYctGKua0QyOxDxkkX6rVnsfM3ehRqgQ1L0rfUe5CR10MoGkleTq1feuDRBJXt71wvB-UXc6sBZWrEnSeXSZGutYRTMGyFGsxSvsbK4-hdhHgPb8lYHz_z8_MURmF6LHlcSwAJdkYJZSU/s1600/Screenshot_2015-03-28-08-32-35.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYctGKua0QyOxDxkkX6rVnsfM3ehRqgQ1L0rfUe5CR10MoGkleTq1feuDRBJXt71wvB-UXc6sBZWrEnSeXSZGutYRTMGyFGsxSvsbK4-hdhHgPb8lYHz_z8_MURmF6LHlcSwAJdkYJZSU/s1600/Screenshot_2015-03-28-08-32-35.png" height="640" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Screenshot from my phone</td></tr>
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<br />
The red triangle is where we are anchored, close enough to walk ashore if you don't mind wet shorts, and sheltered from all directions.<br />
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I don't take this stuff for granted. I've been sailing a long time now. Navigation equipment was limited to a sextant and a radio direction finder, and paper charts. You need the sun, stars or the moon and a clear view of the horizon to use the sextant. Then a pile of books with tables in them, and a few minutes to do calculations. You might get a position from that (a fix) if you can shoot several stars, or just a position line if you shoot the sun or the moon. The radio direction finder depended on signals from lighthouses which were stronger or weaker according to the weather and the time of day, and the signals could be bent by fog(!). You'd ascertain the direction of a lighthouse from the radio signal, then remember to adjust the bearing by the deviation (the amount the compass is deviated by the boat) and adjust it for variation (to allow for the difference between magnetic north and true north) remembering that the variation itself varied according to where you were. And the weather forecasts? Well, in my early days, from what I'd read, I'd understood that a seaworthy boat should be able to cope, so I figured I should be able to cope, and so didn't bother with the weather too much. I was stupid, misinformed, naive, ridiculously optimistic and lucky. Make your own cocktail out of that.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiclQPjJE_xodPiTbCXYdcl9O7sFE4RbndkdZ28fB-L01eh-lJAB-VoactDsp8ZMac7Gy9ydq1FnZZKJ4kZVQGReHH9uKrbS0zgrRGNxM5V9ABBJAvhxdXBUO-hDFcAaeNYFUGXp3nh5f4/s1600/Triune_trimaran_under_construction_1972.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiclQPjJE_xodPiTbCXYdcl9O7sFE4RbndkdZ28fB-L01eh-lJAB-VoactDsp8ZMac7Gy9ydq1FnZZKJ4kZVQGReHH9uKrbS0zgrRGNxM5V9ABBJAvhxdXBUO-hDFcAaeNYFUGXp3nh5f4/s1600/Triune_trimaran_under_construction_1972.jpg" height="424" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Triune trimaran, 30' long, 18' wide.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Here's a picture. I'm not sure if it was my first boat (there were only 6 of these built), but if it's not, it was very similar. Look, they hadn't even invented colour in those days!<br />
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And <a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B0M1lik-XGL0cngxVE5MNTdKRm8/view?usp=sharing" target="_blank">here</a>, though it hardly belongs with this blog is an excerpt from something I wrote from those olden times, describing a storm I encountered that taught me the limitations of that boat. Just a sextant and a broken radio direction finder and a foolish attitude to the weather.<br />
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<br />John Pedersenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075810649821408370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4354509970687101247.post-50703044485431815322015-03-25T20:58:00.002+00:002015-03-25T20:58:59.277+00:00Uncharted waters<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3PG3ekeu_m-u9TrrJ561jCIuJNZlqAD8AoH491ySBYNtuf3Ntd_hBGx6mytGT6g2_BcadCQWE0fjazDvkQGEqb_09HWROPS_GAXq7WTrMM8OMnQllBoAe_F0B_XyqnBV4wT320SRXa5U/s1600/chart.fw.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3PG3ekeu_m-u9TrrJ561jCIuJNZlqAD8AoH491ySBYNtuf3Ntd_hBGx6mytGT6g2_BcadCQWE0fjazDvkQGEqb_09HWROPS_GAXq7WTrMM8OMnQllBoAe_F0B_XyqnBV4wT320SRXa5U/s1600/chart.fw.png" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
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We drifted the 30 miles across the channel between Crooked Island and Long Island under spinnaker, turned right and dropped anchor for the night. On turning north, we're homeward bound at last. We've travelled west for hundreds and thousands of miles in the tropics, and now, we're following the wind and current as it turns northward, and soon we'll be out of the tropics. We're already at the limits of the trade wind belt. It'll stay warm for a while. It'll be the sub-tropics after all, but still, the northward journey has begun with the turn around the appropriately named South Point of Long Island.<br />
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The turn north marks a new phase. It's on the outward journey that noses are pressed to windows, and scenery absorbed and wonders romanticised. But the homeward journey is inevitably a time of reflection on what the journey has brought, and where we stand now, and of what that home is we are returning to - how it looks after all the water under the bridgedeck and from this furthest distance. Even though the scenery here is as fabulous as any, with turquoise clear water and coral, flat seas and gentle warm winds, the essence of a journey is the romance, and the romance of going home has a different flavour to the romance of leaving for foreign tropical parts. This part of the journey seems to be a job that needs doing, though it would be very remiss of me to wish myself ahead of myself, and to reduce these cays and bays and coral islands to stepping stones to somewhere more familiar.<br />
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As we are on the limits of the trade wind belt, I guess I can't complain that as soon as we'd gone to bed the wind turned to the south. The shelter from the easterly swell we'd taken round Southern Point was no shelter from the south, and we had a noisy and bouncy night. The anchor would hold, and it made no sense to sail amongst the coral in the dark looking for more sheltered water so we had to put up with it.<br />
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We were still keen to buy some fresh food, and Dick had told us about the farmer's market at Clarence Town, 15 miles north. Clarence Town is on the opposite side of the island, but most of it is only 2 miles wide, so it wouldn't be too far to walk. We sailed up and anchored as close as we dared to the shore. But the wind had increased, and it was clear that we wouldn't be able to land the dinghy on the beach without risking damage. Jack pulled the long straw and paddled ashore in the kayak. It turns out it that the source of food isn't a farmer's market, but a government warehouse, that gets filled with produce and shipped on to the smaller islands round about. The ship leaves on a Wednesday. The farmers bring their produce on a Tuesday. This being Monday, all there was in the warehouse was one box of peppers and one box of onions. And the supermarket described in the cruising guide had closed down. Jack did a little better, with the generous assistance of a local, who drove him the 8 miles to the nearest shop, and then drove him back to the beach (the Bahamas is like that!).<br />
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It was too late to move on - we always need to arrive places in good light, so that we can pick our way amongst the reefs - so we stayed where we were for the night, determined anyway to sail to Sandy Cay and cut north through there towards Georgetown (where all manner of food is available, so we're told). Dick had pointed out Sandy Cay as an island full of peculiar trees and many iguanas. That's what made it a reasonable destination.<br />
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Half way, we came across shoals of fish feeding,<br />
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making the water boil around the boat. We dropped sails and motored about amongst the fish. It was clear that the fish were eating tiny fish, no more than an inch long. I didn't have a lure that I thought could work, but there were so many fish, I hoped to drop a lure directly onto one and snag it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijUoBhTcLBnWth6bOfg3HPE2fY2GAzjRaILyLiuHZCdKA9xo4qgEr_RUB_dmO_os8blZXiH_6bwuuYSC_siiHMUPv7d5C-c95s_vs_9v7BXSOdvlmV6sg_zYe3n92Tp_r6UgEwCuRem7w/s1600/castingForFish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijUoBhTcLBnWth6bOfg3HPE2fY2GAzjRaILyLiuHZCdKA9xo4qgEr_RUB_dmO_os8blZXiH_6bwuuYSC_siiHMUPv7d5C-c95s_vs_9v7BXSOdvlmV6sg_zYe3n92Tp_r6UgEwCuRem7w/s1600/castingForFish.jpg" height="640" width="424" /></a></div>
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After half an hour of that, it became obvious the fish - though massed in a feeding frenzy with hardly any water between them - were still too agile to allow my hook anywhere near them. We sailed away, and straight away, we caught a fish.<br />
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Another bloody barracuda,<br />
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which we released.<br />
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We'd started later than I'd hoped, and the fishing diversion delayed us further, so it was already past high tide when we arrived at the cut by Sandy Cay.<br />
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The current was beginning to flow out of the channel, and I didn't fancy spending much time anchoring there. We threw the anchor down anyway, and quickly rowed over to Sandy Cay. There were no signs of any iguanas and the trees looked pretty normal too. I guess there is more than one Sandy Cay in the Bahamas. This wasn't the one we were looking for. <br />
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The waters north of Sandy Cay are uncharted, a blue blank, in the navigation package I have on my laptop, and there's little more detail on my Navionics chart on my phone. 'Shallow sandy area' about covers it. I'd figured that even if it was marked as wet sand, at high tide (3 feet) we'd be able to sail across it.<br />
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The best detail I had of the area was from google Earth. Though the tide was falling, and the current in the channel against us and increasing in speed, I decided we'd go ahead anyway.<br />
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We made it to the end of the channel with a little assistance from the outboard to help in the dying wind and increasing current. I was half way up the mast to spy a route beyond the end of the channel when the rudders caught the bottom and we came to a halt.<br />
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The rudders were designed to swing up when they hit the bottom, but the builder of this boat did a half-hearted job of following that design, and they'd only swing up a couple of inches before the tiller hit the deck and prevented the required amount of swinging. I'd sliced the rudder shafts and had articulating joints built into the system, and made some cassettes to fill the slots. But I was in too much of a hurry to leave the boat yard back in the UK and this is the job that still didn't get done properly. The rudders can lift, but only by removing a couple of bolts first, then lifting the rudders a little, then pulling them hard. The one thing I'd wanted to be sure of in my hurry was that the rudders would never swing up as we were surfing down a wave. I thought that if I didn't have time to perfect the system, I'd err on the side of keeping the rudders down, rather than have them swing up easily. That was all very good surfing across the Atlantic. Now we were sitting on the rudders and the tide was falling.<br />
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We dropped sail and got out the toolbox and undid the bolts holding the rudders. We jumped overboard and with a little heaving and grunting and the odd curse from the port side (the side that was most awkward, and the one I was dealing with). At last, we got the rudders raised, and with no damage. <br />
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The boat was now free of the bottom, and I waded out to set the anchor, and we sat on deck to consider the options. We could dry out here on the sand quite safely, but the next high tide would be between 2-3 in the morning, and the following on, the next afternoon. That's a long time to mostly sit on wet sand. And the tide being a spring tide, the following high tides wouldn't be as high as this one. Jack suggested that since the water was so shallow, we could simply drag that boat. I laughed. To where? How far? And then I waded out to retrieve the anchor. <br />
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Towing the boat was easier than it sounds - the wind, such as it was, was behind us. If we could get the rudders far enough down to provide some steerage, but able to swing up it we hit the ground again, maybe we could sail after all? A little more work:<br />
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Now we had it easy again, sailing downwind, but it was hot in the afternoon sun sailing with downwind with the little breeze.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjajoYk6WKtmurbuE9PrGtQY8wzVHChgPPrr3VY5fpRu4OuWpfj_buvjfEzQQVTK9xr8VTlwYl8zOJt2xmotlMUo79rpF-7drQI7huw5dB755SnS0w6TMxM9W3m3Ki2g84sksH0YKBi24M/s1600/SifBEingTowed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjajoYk6WKtmurbuE9PrGtQY8wzVHChgPPrr3VY5fpRu4OuWpfj_buvjfEzQQVTK9xr8VTlwYl8zOJt2xmotlMUo79rpF-7drQI7huw5dB755SnS0w6TMxM9W3m3Ki2g84sksH0YKBi24M/s1600/SifBEingTowed.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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It's not safe, usually, to be towed behind a yacht. But in these circumstances it seemed an excellent idea. If Sif happened to let go of the rope, there was no danger of sailing off without her. All we would have to do is drop the sail - and she could walk back to the boat!<br />
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As we approached the anchorage I remembered Hans, who I'd met in the Algarve. I was sitting on the deck when he sailed into the lagoon on one of the most extraordinary boats I've ever seen. He was sailing a 70 foot polynesian asymmetric catamaran he'd built in the Gambia in 3 months. He sailed onto the sand bank ahead of me, and jumped off the bow with an anchor. He walked up the bank, stuck the anchor in the ground, climbed back aboard and continued his cup of coffee.<br />
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I got to know Hans over the next few weeks, and he would sail that huge boat about perfectly easily single-handed as if it was a dinghy, and would sometimes tack around where I was anchored (often in a crowded anchorage) to inform me of where we might meet again or to swap opnions on the weather, sailing about like that with a cup of coffee in his hand as if he was born to it. (He was in fact born into it.)<br />
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Anyway, we sailed into the anchorage north of Lower Channel Cay. It must have been a surprise to the other yacht, for us to appear from the south side of that island.<br />
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Nobody sails about here with so little wind, and we'd just sailed across a large expanse of uncharted wet sand. As we approached the anchorage, Sif steered the boat into the wind, I dropped the sail, Jack lowered the anchor, I picked up my cup of tea, and remembered Hans.<br />
<br />John Pedersenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075810649821408370noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4354509970687101247.post-1872292624163303602015-03-25T18:11:00.002+00:002015-03-25T18:11:45.462+00:00Plana Cay to Crooked Island<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The voyage from Plana Cay to Crooked island was uneventful. We caught no fish, found no interesting flotsam, and sailed into Attwood harbour in the late afternoon. We dropped anchor in 8 metres of water. Look there it is, on the left, not dug in yet:<br />
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There we met Dick, who was living on a trimaran along the beach from us - the only other boat in the bay. (The word harbour is loosely used here, in this case describing a bay with no other amenities than a beach. Similarly, a town might be a couple of houses, though in the case of French Wells, Crooked Island, no houses at all!). I had to go and meet the fellow - I've always had an interest in trimarans. He'd designed and made his. He had a mould for making small catamarans. He'd made his outriggers from two of these hulls, and then made some more hulls and chopped them up and glassed them together in new ways to make the main hull. He'd sailed it down from New England somewhere years ago, and had been sailing round the southern islands of the Bahamas for years. His boat was well used, and I wasn't surprised to find it a little smelly. Was it my imagination, or was that musky smell actually fresh bread? It was! Dick had been baking it in an oven on top of a beach fire, and he'd just brought it back to the boat. Dick informed us that the only place we could buy some much needed vegetables was at Landrail, at the other end of the island. We'd hoped we'd find a shop at Attwood Harbour.<br />
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As we were beginning to hoist anchor next morning, Dick came by with some advice about getting out past the reef<br />
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and managed to get it across before he hit the beach.<br />
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Afterwards he tacked around outside the bay to make sure we got through the reef in the right place.<br />
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The trip along the coast of Crooked Island was uneventful too, so I made a new lure, determined to catch some dinner on the way.<br />
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We caught nothing but weed until we approached Landrail Point, then looking back at the lure to ensure we hadn't snagged more weed (there's a lot of it about, drifted down from the Sargasso sea) we saw a pair of humpback whales breaching and swimming with each other at great speed. That was when the rod bent, and I had a fish at last. Something quite big, with teeth.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwztf6dOzbAgsUmvDDCCj5_kklrfTu7jssI1sGfCv6mhthIU2RbYJo3PY6twk07i42n8vAL3MkFeRyJJcUK_rSvWJoIyGgA5KxnH8mx2fsOPHGKKZHyN1V0j7s0z6R7K7D8GgD7Lx8t8Q/s1600/barracudaTeeth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwztf6dOzbAgsUmvDDCCj5_kklrfTu7jssI1sGfCv6mhthIU2RbYJo3PY6twk07i42n8vAL3MkFeRyJJcUK_rSvWJoIyGgA5KxnH8mx2fsOPHGKKZHyN1V0j7s0z6R7K7D8GgD7Lx8t8Q/s1600/barracudaTeeth.jpg" height="456" width="640" /></a>Got him, a barracuda.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3MQp7t_TaaUfpG8gkQve2MLxCRehMJ8vvH33ktugP12stW_nISqYf8x5XbtWN0-MCGDlmYGFGW92m8n8l3lCvbGPZe-6-7f2ZrwDBAdSNqk28rNFoIrgz30Kiyq2QgBGK9Tv5oczx7ok/s1600/barracuda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3MQp7t_TaaUfpG8gkQve2MLxCRehMJ8vvH33ktugP12stW_nISqYf8x5XbtWN0-MCGDlmYGFGW92m8n8l3lCvbGPZe-6-7f2ZrwDBAdSNqk28rNFoIrgz30Kiyq2QgBGK9Tv5oczx7ok/s1600/barracuda.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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But we threw him back - they can give you a dose of ciguatera, so that's the only species we definitely don't want to try eating.<br />
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We sailed round the end of the reef at Landrail Point<br />
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and had a peaceful night.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSpWdT3NIa_d6sJ6-5p8rAI5R0OF3SgPwglb-g1QsIvNV80CSavyTOFimsYWr7ANw4-Z80OlTUre_QgDDCHbGo5illY2Kzs6QzKis7SYFpBpNOL3zlAhaX9uhEs7oGreJ92lThtq9orjQ/s1600/sunriseAtLandrail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSpWdT3NIa_d6sJ6-5p8rAI5R0OF3SgPwglb-g1QsIvNV80CSavyTOFimsYWr7ANw4-Z80OlTUre_QgDDCHbGo5illY2Kzs6QzKis7SYFpBpNOL3zlAhaX9uhEs7oGreJ92lThtq9orjQ/s1600/sunriseAtLandrail.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dawn</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Had that barracuda followed us? No, this one is perhaps 4 feet long, and hanging around the back of the boat in the morning.<br />
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He was a little camera shy but when I swirled my fingers in the water, he was more interested.<br />
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That pink colour at the top of the image is my fingers. I still have the same number as before I took that photograph.<br />
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He didn't stick around all morning and we had a swim<br />
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but for some reason, we didn't swim far from the boat. <br />
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We went to the shops - there were three! But all were shut. This was a Saturday. We'd already figured out Sunday wasn't the day to be here because everyone would be in church. But Saturday? Well, everyone was in church, and they wouldn't come out till sunset, and then the shops would briefly open. Outside the church was a sign saying it belonged to the Seventh Day Adventists. Can't these people count? Isn't Saturday the sixth day?<br />
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At sunset, we bought all the vegetables available - potatoes (70c each!), onions, and a few tomatoes. There were no eggs. The mailboat comes 3 times a month here, and we'd arrived in a week when the mailboat doesn't come, so there were no eggs. That's what we were told. These people have their eggs mailed to them I guess.<br />
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We were almost out of water, and I read through the Bahamas guide looking for where we might fill up again, but I couldn't see any chance in the near future. I've decided a watermaker might be a good investment if we were to spend much time here. The seawater is extremely clear and clean, and there is almost constant sunshine so we have quite a bit of electricity to spare from just our two panels. Anyway, that's for another time maybe. I set off to look for the nearest water to the dock in Landrail, and was directed to the man with a shop and a well. Water could be bought for $8/gallon, but US gallons, which is only 3.5 pints or so. Or we could help ourselves at the well out the back.<br />
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I'd just filled one container when the handle went slack. The pump was broken. I'm afraid my first impulse was to run away, but in a moment, I remembered how old I was, and I went to look for the shopkeeper to break the news of his broken pump. The shop was now shut. Round the back, I found a well worn path to the house next door and tracked the man down to his breakfast table. The fellow was familiar with the problem, and lent me a wrench to have a go at fixing the pump. The wrench wasn't enough though. This called for a complete dismantling, and Jack went back to the boat for some WD40 and the socket set. This called for some serious plumbing.<br />
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The shopkeeper returned when the hard work was over.<br />
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We chatted as we filled the containers and then he gave us a ride back to the dock in his pickup. The fellow showed us the house he'd been born in, the house next door. It's a real pleasure to chat with these people. They actually listen to what you're saying, and then respond, thoughtfully, and kindly, if they can fit that in too. There's no talking over you, or saying one thing and implying another. Just friendly curiosity and a warm openness. I don't know if it's the church life that does it, the isolation, the lack of noise and distractions. What? I don't know, but I know I like it a lot.<br />
<br />John Pedersenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075810649821408370noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4354509970687101247.post-12637952214992810472015-03-21T19:20:00.002+00:002015-03-21T20:19:30.059+00:00Plana Cay<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Soon after dawn, we set off from Abraham's Bay, Mayaguana to Plana Cay, a desert island 30 or so miles away. As usual, we sailed out of the anchorage, though the wind was very light. I mentioned using twin headsails, looked around, and realised my crew had now qualified as competent crew:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw8k_E2xsA8ZBY0YLQsMOaDLOhpv_wryl8c8lEtHlrYx8auit5BrzLmdHaV18VtqMaP8pxwh4LYxyXYD4dd_VBnUqvc_13tModiqMSeGJYmtT6KAP4izHvvSMtInUl8-IrRxpAUVIQkEE/s1600/competentCrew.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw8k_E2xsA8ZBY0YLQsMOaDLOhpv_wryl8c8lEtHlrYx8auit5BrzLmdHaV18VtqMaP8pxwh4LYxyXYD4dd_VBnUqvc_13tModiqMSeGJYmtT6KAP4izHvvSMtInUl8-IrRxpAUVIQkEE/s1600/competentCrew.jpg" height="466" width="640" /></a></div>
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Sailing gently down the lagoon, feeling quite pleased with ourselves, we were passed by a catamaran motoring the same way:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM_D7fQKCoKS6tV56-7In0YhawSZEJm1Zu_nJPyp77E5Ln5MqsXPyVmR9SIC3PIbGQ2D0hiruYu6NLiaWRdfxXg3pS1FPiMU5p9Af5nhi_26PFcLNVxY-s3sg82Pq93ZqlG-2TrexWmDc/s1600/overtakenByDestiny.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM_D7fQKCoKS6tV56-7In0YhawSZEJm1Zu_nJPyp77E5Ln5MqsXPyVmR9SIC3PIbGQ2D0hiruYu6NLiaWRdfxXg3pS1FPiMU5p9Af5nhi_26PFcLNVxY-s3sg82Pq93ZqlG-2TrexWmDc/s1600/overtakenByDestiny.jpg" height="302" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Overtaken by Destiny!!</td></tr>
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I'm normally happy to cruise along at whatever speed will get us there, and which allows us to lie about reading or fishing or whatever, but after being overtaken by a catamaran being used as a motorboat, I felt an inclination to catch up or overtake if possible. Out with the spinnaker, for the first time on this side of the Atlantic:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaCCycE4aWuL_v_4FALZRBUr1MKYbaGbiie7VYqX9nSiO86ZG-vYmJg5PgRJOw-CVZh-nN4o0nMxZJJMlLSfgG5hYhGStVe4RvQtZr4pmF6xyjWvxjOPz_X9DppcAfeCyRZdwqSpswZ6Y/s1600/spinnakerUp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaCCycE4aWuL_v_4FALZRBUr1MKYbaGbiie7VYqX9nSiO86ZG-vYmJg5PgRJOw-CVZh-nN4o0nMxZJJMlLSfgG5hYhGStVe4RvQtZr4pmF6xyjWvxjOPz_X9DppcAfeCyRZdwqSpswZ6Y/s1600/spinnakerUp.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a><br />
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That was great for a while, hitting top speeds of 8 knots and the only waves to be seen were the ones we were making. But then the wind dropped, and our Destiny disappeared over the horizon.<br />
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But what's this?<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwlAu5at1yepzyDo8N-DMlRpgsH8c9eaU7VCOvk-P1eEKOd_xKloyXcmWalw8E80gb1CkD2-8WnGU_iTbkyEM1aHF8RyNy0DqUJqRtGwkh-ArzMg6CIEoN1y0unJQQJqnQ0Wr4hCToEVw/s1600/approachingBuoy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwlAu5at1yepzyDo8N-DMlRpgsH8c9eaU7VCOvk-P1eEKOd_xKloyXcmWalw8E80gb1CkD2-8WnGU_iTbkyEM1aHF8RyNy0DqUJqRtGwkh-ArzMg6CIEoN1y0unJQQJqnQ0Wr4hCToEVw/s1600/approachingBuoy.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small; text-align: start;">Down with the sails to motor over and take a look.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqxM5pE7yux1wiOu_VWYr8CbdLFZengWP5YGvgzHb8vJu4v2IJd3ie8tNoXEt-l1p6UpJlUYWDk0pRqtnHxEuLpNMRj5uASj2j_JqlII719gymUeNBKa0b5HkFHP9szwpkr0Q_IHHhQwQ/s1600/buoy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqxM5pE7yux1wiOu_VWYr8CbdLFZengWP5YGvgzHb8vJu4v2IJd3ie8tNoXEt-l1p6UpJlUYWDk0pRqtnHxEuLpNMRj5uASj2j_JqlII719gymUeNBKa0b5HkFHP9szwpkr0Q_IHHhQwQ/s1600/buoy.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's a girl! No, wait a minute, it's a buoy.</td></tr>
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A thing floating on the sea is a natural fish attractor. There's even an acronym for it in the fishing industry - FAD - fish attracting device. This one was working beautifully, and we tied the buoy to the back of the boat, and the fish drifted along with us. I threw a lure in, and right away, caught this:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5sYO4_EvpzrnQf9MJcBV6fcF6MbvDa7UhLQ9_wcQfZqOFfqQRW7UaFAZ9s1QlBvDDGlgd4tefSLQ7wrqUSct7mHMTOcGrMKXIhpLk0arik-WmgVt02cTb0JZFkdKtiKMW4ezFoLEwTzM/s1600/triggerFish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5sYO4_EvpzrnQf9MJcBV6fcF6MbvDa7UhLQ9_wcQfZqOFfqQRW7UaFAZ9s1QlBvDDGlgd4tefSLQ7wrqUSct7mHMTOcGrMKXIhpLk0arik-WmgVt02cTb0JZFkdKtiKMW4ezFoLEwTzM/s1600/triggerFish.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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I think it might be what's called a trigger fish, on account of the lethal looking spine that popped out of its back. I'm just guessing. It seemed impossible to fillet, it's skin like armour plating, and spines here and there to avoid, so it went in the oven as it was and came out surprisingly well, steamed in its own armour plating. Though one of our crew is more used to fish from a can, or hidden in batter, and was rather repulsed. I offered to mash a bit up and serve it in a can, but that was turned down, and all happily ate seconds.<br />
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After the trigger fish, I spotted 3 dorado cruising about just below the surface, and threw the lure in front of one of them. It went straight for it, and swam gently away with it. At some point, I guess it realised it had metal and plastic in its mouth, not fish, and it took off at a tremendous speed. I was afraid my new reel might not be up to coping with it, and I put my hand on the line to slow it down, and burned my fingers. That was when the line went slack, and we saw no more of the dorado. Oh well.<br />
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The buoy was a shipping hazard, so:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAeI50wXn6NoE7xwvNRBJp1n1NwIi_qpAydaWPryJ8OoGexY_c2n76fCejV5cahxmTYdPvdcfH139ZPAvNXRHCs9Nk1hcmMv93vbzLsK_oTDgP4K0LLbGV7_j0AroJei3txVq3fQKFIKk/s1600/towingBuoy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAeI50wXn6NoE7xwvNRBJp1n1NwIi_qpAydaWPryJ8OoGexY_c2n76fCejV5cahxmTYdPvdcfH139ZPAvNXRHCs9Nk1hcmMv93vbzLsK_oTDgP4K0LLbGV7_j0AroJei3txVq3fQKFIKk/s1600/towingBuoy.jpg" height="326" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNgjfK9u47SmUfQhrkDpyO2Nc2z1GDfA3qzv-0nBC7wexI3jW0PsVL3NIws2kAAVB3rP_AQqoL7JSUmLyJWhHiL_PrXh6RY1q0uTn2IAF-fU2seOn3Sqa64j5A7TVLM_0xk4mxbz8ecFA/s1600/label.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNgjfK9u47SmUfQhrkDpyO2Nc2z1GDfA3qzv-0nBC7wexI3jW0PsVL3NIws2kAAVB3rP_AQqoL7JSUmLyJWhHiL_PrXh6RY1q0uTn2IAF-fU2seOn3Sqa64j5A7TVLM_0xk4mxbz8ecFA/s1600/label.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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"<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Hi,</span><br />
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I found a buoy belonging to your institute, at 22 26.8923 N, 073 23.7215 W</div>
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I towed it to Plana Cay, and took a closer look there. There was only the lantern left attached. It looked like other hardware had been bolted to the top of the buoy, and since removed. I'd hoped to take it somewhere where you could either collect or or it could be disposed of. But I'm on a 9m catamaran, and I couldn't tow the thing back to anywhere civilised, so I removed the lantern and let the buoy drift away from Plana Cay. It's probably a small hazard to shipping, but as the light wasn't working, I left it as no worse a hazard than when I found it I guess.</div>
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I opened the lantern, and figured out the pass code, and got it working sort of. I'd be happy to send it back to you if you like. Otherwise, I'd like to know how the thing works, so that I could use it as an anchor light! However I set it up, it flashes for a while then stops, though there seems plenty of power (battery reading 4.5 v)</div>
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If you want it back, let me know. If you don't want it, maybe the program that it links to via USB might be handy for me?</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Thanks,</span>"<br />
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The joys of the internet. :)<br />
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The water was so clear where we anchored, that I just stuck my camera over the side, and snapped this barracuda near the bottom:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-jOVZTO3sUNzXZ9agcZVOeSEm_7shKaaUjdyz64YHPXavNLflBeJ2c8GRa0fqkMJsunnCc00KbckpNopPf2HplpGLteirfiUmpEyWHThw1DEcZbvwOkU4WpW30dZKMeWUiY5nVPVIyoM/s1600/barracudanUnderBoat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-jOVZTO3sUNzXZ9agcZVOeSEm_7shKaaUjdyz64YHPXavNLflBeJ2c8GRa0fqkMJsunnCc00KbckpNopPf2HplpGLteirfiUmpEyWHThw1DEcZbvwOkU4WpW30dZKMeWUiY5nVPVIyoM/s1600/barracudanUnderBoat.jpg" height="402" width="640" /></a></div>
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Plana Cay is a desert island, and we set off to explore the next morning, taking my newly acquired machete so we could open some coconuts ashore.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigkYpLF1hPdJj5AIrrouPbg9Cr_q3Cw5B_pM8m3YMHVhMIyO_p30Y7gJoJw8tnkWlSKxyB23DSVfgdv2658oO8pbKWPffFoDhiiMnNm6dclxvpKJDvShoBAokUftIzB_VibM8omZ2Ezkw/s1600/beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigkYpLF1hPdJj5AIrrouPbg9Cr_q3Cw5B_pM8m3YMHVhMIyO_p30Y7gJoJw8tnkWlSKxyB23DSVfgdv2658oO8pbKWPffFoDhiiMnNm6dclxvpKJDvShoBAokUftIzB_VibM8omZ2Ezkw/s1600/beach.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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Not coconut trees. Oh well, pandanus I think, which made up most of the trees on the island. I imagined I had the place to myself, but looking around:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTExOuODme_5aXu9vetfKL7aCzwd-8hG0_OVTjsonpDb-iUVeyc5xzWYIKoTKqLgEyuDPINZli_jeNMfh5RDFC9GGZFJX2wRRDadFk4-HxGFmpJxLx5F1ghiGx1rPMVDIEewQud29UWxg/s1600/sifAndJackOnBeach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTExOuODme_5aXu9vetfKL7aCzwd-8hG0_OVTjsonpDb-iUVeyc5xzWYIKoTKqLgEyuDPINZli_jeNMfh5RDFC9GGZFJX2wRRDadFk4-HxGFmpJxLx5F1ghiGx1rPMVDIEewQud29UWxg/s1600/sifAndJackOnBeach.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cannibals?</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhekentHwFyWQ794IL9DFS3NzVv06m9bdpEjrGTUUGg_ppxEcfokZt6czM50rPIIiAdJgzCM9fBdiWHfZHlflph7AU888eJPzIOxybUcFr5o-GjuWlTNPRVQ2Ddv0xfLC_Eirow-cqfUCE/s1600/scrumpyHarbour.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhekentHwFyWQ794IL9DFS3NzVv06m9bdpEjrGTUUGg_ppxEcfokZt6czM50rPIIiAdJgzCM9fBdiWHfZHlflph7AU888eJPzIOxybUcFr5o-GjuWlTNPRVQ2Ddv0xfLC_Eirow-cqfUCE/s1600/scrumpyHarbour.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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At the south west corner of the island, a natural wall of rock forms this beautiful harbour. I name this harbour, Scrumpy Harbour!<br />
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Round the corner, on the windward side of the island, flotsam:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBWKenNkwjPMKKrXwzxQj0eaxrL9eoBz1fOCdkubUaPRdme7b07zTRZy0dIJFqCpGWAp_3yf7hGLBGg2eXibWviAVrrbNiPJQxoLblJTjVp2dWEXOB8adkXWUxJdMYM3lqZySoI9lDLKU/s1600/flotsam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBWKenNkwjPMKKrXwzxQj0eaxrL9eoBz1fOCdkubUaPRdme7b07zTRZy0dIJFqCpGWAp_3yf7hGLBGg2eXibWviAVrrbNiPJQxoLblJTjVp2dWEXOB8adkXWUxJdMYM3lqZySoI9lDLKU/s1600/flotsam.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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Even somewhere so remote, so shortage of plastic.<br />
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There used to be trees here. Maybe a hurricane brought them down, but there are no signs of young ones reappearing.<br />
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I managed one snap of one goat. I guess the goats affect the trees somewhat. I scared a flock(?) of about 30 that were resting in some shade. The billies were amazingly big and well muscled with big horns, but fortunately, they were very afraid of me.<br />
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Inland:<br />
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I name this lake, Scumpy Lake!<br />
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And this one is Red Lake, surely.<br />
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Before we left, we swam on the reef. I couldn't find any lobsters, and missed every fish I tried for.<br />
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I bet I could have speared this one, but, well, no.... is looking so pretty some kind of Darwinian survival ploy, or is my hunting handicapped by modern warped aesthetics? Sure it's edible, but it just doesn't look like dinner to me.<br />
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....<br />
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John Pedersenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075810649821408370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4354509970687101247.post-90047321243636181992015-03-21T15:09:00.002+00:002015-03-21T15:09:16.781+00:00Mayaguana<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There isn't a lot on Mayaguana - 250 people or so, some going overseas to find work, and coming back when there is work available at home.<br />
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Customs and immigration was a little concrete shack down a track, and there we cleared in, filling in a lot of forms, and having stamps carefully put into our passports. I took out my credit card to pay the $150 and was told it would have to be cash, and I didn't have that much, and there was no way they could take my card. There is no bank on Mayaguana. Several phone calls were made to Nassau for advice for how to proceed. Phone my bank and ask them to send a money order? What's a money order? How about a direct transfer, account to account - I could do it online? That was no good. Anyway, possibilities were invented and dismissed for an hour or so, until our imaginations ran out, and I suggested that we just clear in at the next opportunity. That was no good, as our passports were already stamped. Unstamp them, I suggested. Not possible I was told. Sure, you put the stamp in, you take it out. Just scribble it out. Horror! That can't happen. So we are bound now to take out some cash at the next ATM (a few islands from now) and send a money order (whatever that is) from the post office there to the post office in Mayaguana - which is the same shack as customs and immigration.<br />
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The lagoon we were anchored in was either shallow or very shallow, so we were anchored quite a way from the shore. As an experiment, I attached the 6hp engine to the dinghy and we motored in. Not ideal, the shaft being too long. And not too good for the dinghy either - it being a nesting dinghy, and the seat that hold the two parts of the hull together is beginning to flex. But with another dinghy, I'm sure it will work fine. The big prop and low gearing means the dinghy goes at 4 knots or so at little over tickover, but doesn't gain much speed by turning the throttle. 4 knots will do.<br />
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We caught our first lobster. I killed our first lobster, in the usual way it's done. Sounds terrible, but I was a little relieved to see how quickly it was over anyway. So, a new food source for us - there seem plenty of lobster. None of us were exactly delighted at the taste though. It must be an acquired thing, so we decided we'd have a go at acquiring it, on account of being fed up with rice and beans.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOc7SWcVB4w2oFymcJ57MdneaggwY2vySlkQZRSiFnf6eOeo5cguJaLO-ypXdXldH1cnqjRVHygF6QmSiB_UQdnFWvDzuxy1KZW1aIQs1V0v5kFZXc3FLeo9nO1M5ebih1XqH9AwKi3vg/s1600/sifAtReef.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOc7SWcVB4w2oFymcJ57MdneaggwY2vySlkQZRSiFnf6eOeo5cguJaLO-ypXdXldH1cnqjRVHygF6QmSiB_UQdnFWvDzuxy1KZW1aIQs1V0v5kFZXc3FLeo9nO1M5ebih1XqH9AwKi3vg/s1600/sifAtReef.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Any more lobsters?<br /><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1E6uPYuJBWlR6zFcrajlkLvey79v7ZilSdbaG6RIa401ikmEsPrTG_4Qr06M6RyGjwrBY4JvhYiWP_xy3E_oz7OgJvzrkyocc7mRYT97OSNCTKhOuE_ZyarworfHbKx5HnFxDWZAryZw/s1600/meAtReef.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1E6uPYuJBWlR6zFcrajlkLvey79v7ZilSdbaG6RIa401ikmEsPrTG_4Qr06M6RyGjwrBY4JvhYiWP_xy3E_oz7OgJvzrkyocc7mRYT97OSNCTKhOuE_ZyarworfHbKx5HnFxDWZAryZw/s1600/meAtReef.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm going to go somewhere really nice, and kill something...<br /><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's not warm and sunny the whole time here. It rained for at least 15 minutes.</td></tr>
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<br />John Pedersenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075810649821408370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4354509970687101247.post-14452178840287378282015-03-21T11:52:00.000+00:002015-03-21T11:52:18.426+00:00Providenciales to MayaguanaOr Turks and Caicos to the Bahamas.<br />
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We spent a few days in Sapodilla Bay, waiting for the engine. I tracked its progress - Maine, then Fort Lauderdale where I assumed it would be loaded onto a ship, but no - it then went next to Memphis, Tennessee, and stayed so long, we started referring to it as Elvis. Suddenly, we had a message saying the engine was here, in Provo. It came on a plane after all. Fedex didn't have an address to take it to, so I collected it from their office, 8 miles away. They were kind enough to bring me and the engine in one of their vans to the beach where I'd left the dinghy, and all the concerns about dates and arrivals and points of possible failure disappeared - we had an engine again, and the danger of being required to fork out $300 for a cruising permit was gone.<br />
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The engine fitted with only a little tweaking, and we resolved to motor round to South Side marina where we could fill up with water, do some laundry, buy some food and so on, leaving Sapodilla Bay the following morning, at dawn. At dawn the wind would be lightest, and we'd have our best chance of motoring directly into it.<br />
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I forgot that the engine would need running in, and that it required the first 2 hours of running to be at less than half speed. 6hp isn't a lot for a boat this size, but running it at half revs - was it feasible?<br />
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Well, it is, and we made it, though in it did get up to F5 before we made it round the corner, and we were hobby-horsing into the waves a bit. Good test though. The propeller popped out of the water very briefly, just a couple of times, so the shaft is long enough. And I'm thinking the power might prove to be enough too.<br />
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I called in on Byron (who keeps a spirit-lifting <a href="http://2gringos.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">blog</a>, whether you're into boats and fixing things or not) - a fellow I'd been in contact with on a couple of sailing forums, and who had provided encouraging advice when I was researching the feasibility of importing an engine to Turks and Caicos. I've met internet people before, and as Byron said, the results are sometimes disappointing. Well, the only disappointment here was that we didn't get to swap any more good-natured yarns, and I didn't get to see the output of Byron's 3D printer. I'd have liked to have seen the printers too, but ah well, we had already overstayed our permit. And the wind was settling for a favourable run to the Bahamas.... so bye Byron and Polly - really nice to meet up.<br />
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First we spent an afternoon sailing to the west of the island, to hang onto a mooring buoy used by diving boats. We took the short route, through the coral, carefully creating a route and waypoints on the detailed charts on my phone and then transferring the route to the laptop navigation software. We lost our nerve following the route - there was coral ahead, not like on the route we planned. So it was nice to be able to start the motor, and head dead upwind, and wind our way through the coral - a man on a bow, another on the roof, and something similar on the tiller being shouted directions and corrections and all.<br />
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We left the next day at dawn for Mayaguana. Terns wheeled about in front of the boat. I imagined they must have been playing about in the turbulence caused by the sails, but they seemed too far off for that. I got on with some fishing. Surely, there'd be tuna here, and I had my new rod, new reel, and a range of lures to try out. And we were all getting pretty sick of beans and lentils.<br />
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The wind was fair all the way and we ranged between 5-7 knots. No fish were attracted to any of my lures. Not spinners, not Dean's pirks, not my home made lumps of lead with a treble hook and a bit of sliced up Marigold glove. Nothing worked.<br />
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I sat in the shade of the mainsail and watched the terns. They seemed to be feeding on small flying fish. But they always stayed in front of the boat, as if all the fish were there. I saw a glint in the water ahead, and stood at the bow watching. In front of the boat, like dolphins playing about, there were tuna, about 2' long. Lots of them. We watched them for a while. Occasionally we'd see one or two off to the side, but we never saw any behind the boat. After a while it became obvious that the terns were marking where most of the tuna were. Looking carefully, we could see the fish shooting through the water, and sometimes leaping out. They were chasing the little flying fish, and the terns were taking what they could get. The tuna swam with incredible speed, leaving a spray of water from their backs. The only sensible thing to do if you were a little fish being chased by such devils would be to fly! Get out of the water. And then the terns would dive for the fish as soon as they shot out of the water, and time after time we watched the fish weave about as they flew through the air trying to dodge the acrobatic terns. What a life!<br />
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I tried casting a lure forward of the boat, and the tuna would shoot towards the lure immediately, but after they'd taken a close look, they soon turned back towards the flying fish. I rigged up a windsurfer mast with a line and a lure, and dangled the lure to the side of a bow, but the tuna weren't interested in that. I figured they might only be caught with bait, so I rigged a mackerel line with little lures to catch a fish to use as bait. Nothing!<br />
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We sailed into Abraham's Bay, Mayaguana while the sun was still high enough for us to make out the coral easily, and dropped the hook in the sand.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzubzFCwCwKxPy4sRMpBqZDPthBIlJAjefN6ROkyJjbYIZjgeb-5vHrBgCWdU8RRbOhyl-3axOnXNwx3GQKLRiq9TkYF62lb3x2qmmeknTYN6qVgAmbvyyou9upKTBpFPWN_aQC1Zhh5Y/s1600/lagoonAtMayaguana.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzubzFCwCwKxPy4sRMpBqZDPthBIlJAjefN6ROkyJjbYIZjgeb-5vHrBgCWdU8RRbOhyl-3axOnXNwx3GQKLRiq9TkYF62lb3x2qmmeknTYN6qVgAmbvyyou9upKTBpFPWN_aQC1Zhh5Y/s1600/lagoonAtMayaguana.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A long row! The lagoon is huge and shallow, so we had to anchor far off!</td></tr>
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<br />John Pedersenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075810649821408370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4354509970687101247.post-65909617161177387752015-03-10T01:09:00.000+00:002015-03-10T01:15:49.763+00:00A late afternoon stroll down Silly Creek, Providenciales.<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifdRfGlvf638L2muIFmlXqX0IZG4aOISPImLozUwA59AcYDxO9PBd75DQ0qOKpMess6k8WW-Fur9ukkBfslPR-AXR0K_56zpUKD8xtIc_4ffYesXbFOGzo6_jmTTRdXLcZiXz0cEJXvpY/s1600/jellyfishSwimming.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifdRfGlvf638L2muIFmlXqX0IZG4aOISPImLozUwA59AcYDxO9PBd75DQ0qOKpMess6k8WW-Fur9ukkBfslPR-AXR0K_56zpUKD8xtIc_4ffYesXbFOGzo6_jmTTRdXLcZiXz0cEJXvpY/s1600/jellyfishSwimming.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">in the creek itself</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">landed!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2, Silly Creek.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">58, Silly Creek.</td></tr>
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<br />John Pedersenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075810649821408370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4354509970687101247.post-44400925930428144412015-03-09T13:51:00.001+00:002015-03-09T14:02:25.841+00:00Rubbish.We went looking for Smith's reef on the other side of the island. It's supposed to be one of the greatest snorkelling places you can swim to off the beach. We failed to find it, despite it being big, mapped and I have it marked on a map tool on my phone and on my navigation program on my phone and on a paper map in my bag. I can't explain. Doesn't bode well for our pending trip through the reef-strewn Bahamas, if we can't find that place.<br />
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We found some fish though:<br />
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It's only a little yellow thing, but the brown thing behind it in the cave is a shark. Really. I could have probably had a better picture, but I'd have had to tweak his tail, which was sticking out the cave's back entrance.<br />
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Here's Ray:<br />
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I followed it about a bit, and then left it in peace, and then he followed me about a bit! I have difficulty seeing stingrays without the theme tune of the 60's kids classic 'Stingray' going on in the back of my mind.<br />
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With such things about, this seems an eminently sensible way of getting around:<br />
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That's a conch, about the size of my head (or, come to think of it, the size of most people's heads).<br />
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Smith's reef, or at least the place we thought the reef ought to be, is about 7 miles from the boat, which is quite a long way to walk in the heat. And there's no public transport on the island. Everyone agrees here that taxis cost a fortune - so much that it is cheaper to hire a car. The cheapest car I can find to hire is $66/day, so I daren't ask the price of a taxi.<br />
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How locals without a car get around is to flag down a jitney - which is an illegal taxi. It's usually a wreck of a car being driven about, taking people a few miles for a few dollars. If you're walking down the road and you don't flag down a jitney, they helpfully toot their horns at you to give you a second chance. If you don't take the second chance, and keep on walking, usually you don't get far before someone simply stops and takes you where you are going, or close by, no charge. I find it quite amazing.<br />
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The people on this island have so far proved to be the friendliest, kindest most generous and helpful I've come across - and that goes for the people in customs and immigration too! Is that racist to say such things of a whole bunch of islanders? I have my eye out for some greedy selfish bastard, for curiosity's sake, but I don't rate my chances.<br />
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I asked why people were so ready to give walking people a ride, and it was pointed out to me that it is only us that's walking. People don't do that here. They go everywhere in their enormous gas-guzzling American cars and pick-ups. I was told they'd rather take a taxi than a 10 minute walk! (Can't be true, but that's what I was told anyway.)<br />
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These roads aren't made for walking, so I take a back road when I can. But that's not so good:<br />
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The bushes are knee deep in rubbish, mostly plastic bags. I'm not surprised. There's no room for landfill, and everytime you go shopping, someone grabs your stuff at the checkout and partially fills two plastic bags, one inside the other. Even if you're standing there with your knapsack open.. it causes a little upset I've found, to reject the plastic bag service and stuff things directly into a knapsack. It's been like that throughout the Caribbean. In Luperon, I lost something overboard at the anchorage, and cast a weight and a hook out to try to snag it back. All I got, time after time, was plastic bags and discarded clothing. I never found my thing, so that is there now to add to the rubbish. too.<br />
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I don't understand it. Plastic bags are quite easy to do without. And the huge cars.... petrol is imported of course, and not cheap. I have no idea why people drive around in such huge trucks, at great expense. I'm looking forward to seeing how Bermuda runs - a place only a little smaller, but it has banned private vehicles.<br />
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And while I'm on the eco-thing - I haven't seen a single solar panel on a roof anywhere yet - though there is loads of sunshine (it's getting drier as we head north and west) and the panels on the boat easily supply more than we need. It wouldn't take much to put a few panels on your roof and power an electric car - the island is only 30 miles long, so it's not like the limited range is a problem. A golf buggy might do, or an electric bicycle.... the only downside I see of that strategy is that we'd have no choice then but to walk the 7 miles, as there'd be no room for passengers.<br />
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All of which brings me to the ecological cost of this trip, and of the boat itself. There's a big bag of rubbish on the back platform, awaiting a suitable opportunity for disposal. There may not be one! I don't mind throwing cans and bottles overboard in deep water. The steel rusts and provides iron to the ocean, the lack of which is a key limiting factor on ocean life. And glass will revert to sand before anyone gets to cast a disapproving eye on it. The rest? I wish it wasn't there! I wish I hadn't bought any of it. Now we're stuck with it!<br />
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The whole boat is glass and plastic. There's some consolation for me in that at least it was a second hand boat, well on its way to landfill when I bought it. I'd think very hard before I built a new boat, adding several tons more plastic to the environment. Here are some more environmentally friendly boats.<br />
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They are lined up outside the customs and immigration office. They are Haitian refugee boats, falling apart before they started from Haiti, and disintegrating faster and faster in the tropical sun.John Pedersenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04075810649821408370noreply@blogger.com1