Tuesday 23 August 2011

Cap'n log 18th to 23rd August 2011 (Sines to Isla Canela)

Am posting from a cafe near the marina in Isla Canela (Cinnamon Island) on the border of Portugal and Spain.
The picture below is actually Troija, a saints day parade with hundreds of boats taking part.



Portugal has been a country of motor sailing and whilst I'm probably being pessimistic (or feeble of memory) I can only recall one day where I sailed the whole day and that was a few days ago.

Sines (pronounced Sinch) was pretty good, €10 a night for the Catweasel and the local internet cafe did a mean skewered kebabby meat thing very similar to the ones I had in Jo'Berg.

Lagos was the party town I was expecting and, providing you like noisy bars, I can recommened the Three Monkeys. The marina price was on a par with Cascais and Troija (some €30 a night).

Albufiera offered me nothing, it seemed very quiet and I was quite content to push on to Isla Canela the next day. Price wise it was up there with Cascais. Oh!! we did find a most excellent restaurant used predominantly (sp?) by locals and it was there that I bade farewell to Treoggin and David*..

Albufiera did offer me another lesson though - a bikini clad babe can severely impact ones ability to moor up professionally. I badly overshot my mooring when this goddess (thanks Vicky :)) appeared wearing not a lot. I suspect she realised as the sound of me throwing the Catweasel into frantic reverse almost certainly attracted her (and everyone else's) attention. Lesson learned..from now on I wear blinkers when mooring.

*David was a most excellent single hander that Stewart and I met a few weeks previously. He has/d a 34 (I think) brown hulled Elizabethan and was bloody helpful. He set up my rigging, gave me advice galore and generally made me a better sailor. I don't want to play on his age but...he was 70 and, if I'm that capable of activity when I get to his age then I'll be bloody happy.


Anyway, Robert (Halcyon 27) and I motorsailed our way to Isla Canala and that's where I started to sink and the engine blew up. I got to call my first pan-pan (although maybe it should have been a "securite") so that's another first for me :).

A guy in Budapest (Benjamin) asked me to comment from time to time on my mental health so here it is - right now, to date, no issues. I attribute this to the fact that I'm only day sailing single handed right now and then even then I'm sailing with other people (Robertt, David, Dick, Jack, Dani, Martyn to name but a few). There's a real sense of  community and support with everyone helping each other. I don't think I'll get lonely or regretful until I cross the Atlantic...but I'll keep a notion of this aspect in my head and comment every now and then.

Providing I can get the boat fixed my current passage plan has me headed around the Rock in a few days, then north up the coast of Spain to about 20 miles north of Benidorm and then east to Ibiza and the Ballerics. That's about 500nm from here and, at an ideal pace of 20 to 30 miles a day will take me somewhere between 14 days and 25 days.

Enough for now, back to my book and waiting for the engineer to call me.

adios amigos


Just occured to me that I'm selling my experiences short - imagine long sunny days, with dolphins on a regular basis, a book, a boat, good people, good, for the most part, sailing, new places, new lessons, emotional and physical lessons learned. This is not a Japanese game show, it's, very much so, a very long holiday. It's 7 knots under sail, it's America's Cup,  it's sunsets and sunrises, blue skies and wind, friendships and music. Exploration - within and without.

Wednesday 17 August 2011

Cap'n's Log stardate the 12th August two thousand and eleven old bean

so, here I am, tapping away on the keyboard once more. I'm currently in Pineche, in a small bar near the marina.

and "yes yes", I've been lax in posting blog updates but hey! in the grand scheme of things I'm ahead of the game....

We crossed the English channel from Salcombe Bay in the end, having been locked into harbour by yet another gale. Oh! we did try to leave but were beaten back and, on the way back in to safety the GPS showed maximum speed as 20 knots!!! woohooo! Don't listen to the nay-sayers who will claim speed measurements by GPS can be......inaccurate...p'shaw say I! toosh and piffle...it's digital and can't be contradicted...

Back on track...from Salcombe we crossed the Channel to Camaret (near Brest) where we found a few good bars, a bloke with a longer beard than myself and a Commitments cover band. From there we headed across the  Biscay to La Coruna. I'd braced myself for the bay but we were very fortunate, good consistant wind blowing from the North ish made for a very pleasent crossing, dolphins and all. Sadly our windvane, named after the manufacturer, died a death about one day off the Spanish coast. I can only think that it was damaged when it was hit by another yacht in Yarmouth. More of this later.

Bugger...got distacted by stuff and now it's the 17th August and I am in Sines....

OK...so, La Coruna and on...we left the French side of the Biscay 11am on the 22nd July and hit La Coruna 3 days and 3 hours later.

We (Stewart and I) bimbled our way south and soon learned a few things....

1 - onshore winds can be a biatch (gussetting force 8 and up) but are fairly regular and can be predicted
2 - there is no rush to moor up..even when the harbour master is sitting in his rib and madly gesticulating...take your time, get everything ready
3 - condensation dripping from the cabin ceiling can, and did, trash my netbook
4 - My initial estimates of 50+ miles a day were utter bollocks....a realistic daily milage is 30 miles as this allows time in the afternoon to restock/repair/recuperate and other things beginning with "r" at the marina.
5 - Dolphins are perty
6 - My budget for mooring (€25 a night) was about right for Catweasel (prices to date have been €10 at Sines to €30 at Troija) but my budget for beer (2 a day) was...a tad wrong :). My food budget of about €6 a day is OK but only if cooking on board. One meal on shore costs between €10 and €20 with the variance being influenced by the amount of peoople (more people means more cost as left to my own devices I'm happy with a small meal but with company a full meal becomes more pleasureable).
7 - No one has asked for to see my ICC to date but every place has required to see my SSR and most places wanted to see my insurance papers.
8 - The cruising shute is way easier to fly than the spinnaker.

I hope there's a lot more to learn :)

Stewart has left the Catweasel now so, for the first time I am truly solo but not for long. I have a new crewman joining me in or near Cadiz and several friends, I hope, joining me at random spots in or near Gibralter. At this point I'll extend an offer - if anyone wants to join me, use the contact page or email me. Bear in mind it's a small yacht but most days are easy sails from marina to marina.

Anyhooo...enough for now, I'll try and be more disciplined and post more frequently but honestly, I'm having a whale of a time in the evenings, relaxing and enjoying new places with new friends.

Sunday 17 July 2011

Crew's Log: Stewart, 13-17/07

Met Tim on the train from Waterloo to Weymouth and the trip was on. A few hours later we were aboard Catweasel and looking at the mountain of things to be done before we could leave. 24 hours later and most of it was done so we headed to the local for a last few pints before and early start on Friday to get around the infamous Portland Race. Local advice served well and we we cleared the race without problem and started plugging in waypoints so we could watch our progress. Typical of this information age is that our shore based followers had a better idea of our location than us, thanks to the SPOT tracking device Tim acquired.

The day didn't serve us up the best winds and Exmouth was looking like a sensible, if conservative stop for the night, a decision slightly compromised by the fact that we couldn't raise the harbour master by phone or VHF. Rather than chance the iffy looking entrance we opted to fire up the Yanmar and make for Teignmouth, about 2 hours away. At around 22:00 we were in and moored, at around 22:20 we were in the pub. You just have to love small harbours.

The following day was an early start and we broke south, aiming for Salcombe. The seas and winds were pretty lively but we made good progress, making our final approach to Salcombe's amazing harbour in the early evening. A few wrong turns later we were moored, had grabbed a water taxi, showered and made the pub for a couple of cheeky ones.

Sailing on the 17th was an exciting but short lived affair. We'd broken out past the headlands and were settling down for a day of beating into a strong north westerly when the coastguard came on the radio warning of gale force 8 in areas west of Start Point. Salcombe is the first thing to the west of Start Point so that meant we were sailing into some pretty unpleasant weather. So that was it - we'd only put in one tack and were heading back to harbour.

So here we sit, in the Victoria, hoping for fairer winds tomorrow. On the plus side, Salcombe is as great place. I've managed to bag some cheap waterproofs, we've got a load of gen on pubs, restaurants and tides from the locals and even met a girl from Bearsden, the suburb of Glasgow in which I was born. Tomorrow may see us here again but some friends have been in touch so if we're not sailing we'll try and hook up with them. Good times either way.

captain's log 16th July 2011 Fareham to Salcombe Bay

16th July 2011 - Am sat in the Ferry Inn in Salcombe with Stewart. A pint is in front of each of us and we’re ‘havin’ a go at updating our respective blogs. ‘Ere’s mine.

picking up Stewart in Weymouth



We left just over a week ago and struggled to get the sails up for one reason and another (gales, poor preparation, tiny niggling issues) but, finally, the sails went up. I must admit to a feeling of frustration when I am not moving forward so I felt a nice sense of relief when we were finally moving. At the same time I felt a growing sense of apprehension as one of the significant events looms ever closer on the horizon - can my brother and I survive   each other AND the elements as we cross the Biscay? Well, in a few days I/we find out. There’s no way I could have it this far without him (Stewart) but we do bicker and when we do I get saddened and have a hard time seeing the lighter side for a few hours. That said we are working., I think, hard to resolve conflict issues as they arise and I reckon we’re eventually going to run out of things to fight about…brothers eh?!!

Salcombe Bay - the GPS saw 20 knots here :) and it's real pirate bay stuff, I loved it.



Anyway, enough for now, next entry from, I hope, Plymouth.

Tuesday 12 July 2011

Crew's Log: Andrius, 6-10/07/11


Sailing is like jazz - against the tides, against the wind and no planning!

It’s a long entry. Believe me – you better off with a mug of coffee in your hand.

It has truly been several days to remember: bruised legs, sunburned face, few bums on the head, entire tiredness, shaking legs, no planning - just jazz... no, that's definitely not negative sides, that's was part of the adventure, that's an experience! That's what shapes us to better and more interesting persons! It was hardcore sailing - not a smooth one, not a boring one, not a planned one - that was an adventure with Catweasel ant her Captain Timothy S.A. Rawson!


Very very initial plan was to land in Gatwick and head straight to Portsmouth area to join HMS Catweasel and her Captain on the 30th June.

Just a week before the arrival to UK - I was informed that Catweasel needs some work to be done and therefore expected departure is not until 4th of July the earliest. Well, my meetings in UK were rescheduled and on the 2nd July I arrived to meet my captain to be in Brighton.
While waiting for the departure of Catweasel I managed to attend few meeting back in London, closed the biggest business deal so far this year, clean a few windows in Brighton and drink few beers (Guinness of course!) - but that's another story.

The day came and on wed the 6th of July we took of to Porchester were glorious Catweasel was fixed, improved and put into water. Tim and I met Stewart in marina (Stewart is the guy who knows what's going and but not the one in charge). I was shipped (literally) to the floating pontoon and left alone!

In the meantime guys went to bring Catweasel to the pontoon and all the stuff for round the world sailing. After Catweasel was brought to the pontoon - and here it was – by glorious moment - first foot on the front of the boat. It felt good!

Stewart rows, Tim tries in
vain to start the outboard.
Another batch of stuff from the shore was brought - I start "unpacking and putting everything inside" - it means – throwing (literally) everything inside the boat.

When the last stuff had to be brought to the boat by our small dingy - I saw Tim and Stewart urgently putting stuff out of the dingy back to the shore - dingy was getting water - actually until I left the boat - not sure if the reason for the water in the dingy was discovered. Actually we never used dingy afterwards. Another dingy was borrowed and the remaining stuff was delivered into the boat. Two hours passed and while the tide was high...

Portsmouth's 'Spinnaker Tower'
... my first movement on the boat. We did an “outstanding number” of nautical miles as far as Gosport marina on Wednesday evening. Catweasel was secured to a berth very easily (and I though it's the way it will always be). Discussion started about the next steps - we needed food for the rest of the adventure. At this point our opinion of what and where to eat became different. My plan was to go shopping; Tim's plan was pub first shopping later that day or even tomorrow. However Stewart supported me and after registering at the marina office we went of for shopping. After 9 pm. Gosport is a ghost town. All the way to Morrisons (~20 min walk) we saw one person on the high street... Morrison was closed. McDonalds was not only closed but permanently decommissioned. Smart phones came to the rescue and using our best friend for the rest of the week - GPS - we managed to locate the nearest shop ASDA.

Shopping was done within a budget (5 pounds per person per day). Having a few beers at pub (not me - I was still not feeling well after I had an off Guinness from the night before in Brighton - we approached kebab shop. Stewart and Tim had one big kebab each to take away - I still had my one liter healthy bio sth active yoghurt to drink. Close to midnight we returned to Catweasel and after whole day of excitement - I just fell asleep on my bank in the front cabin of the boat.

Motoring out of Gosport Marina
...and it was the best sleep in the long time! That swinging of the boat is so relaxing and calming. Stewart and Tim were already up and just when I came from the front cabin – I smelled a fresh ground coffee. It was Stewart who brought it from McDonalds. Tim left to get a shower and in the meantime I and Stewart were doing a shopping list for food (and other stuff) for the days to come. While cooking breakfast (really good - Thanks to Stewart) I noticed that Tim actually has moca Espress coffee pot! Ground coffee on the shopping list was added and we were off for shopping. Few hours and we were done (not really following the shopping list). Back at the boat we decided to give a go and take Catweasel to the solent channel. Sails were still not an option so we motored all the way to Yarmouth. It was windy, a bit wet, bumpy but relatively ok (pure my opinion). No sea sickness for me – but after few hours against the waves – I had an experience to use a toilet in the boat. And believe me – that was an experience when all your toilet is moving up and done left to right while you are doing … well what you usually do in the toilet Resume, it’s a bit complicated but manageable. After spraying a bottle of some cheapish champagne all over Catweasel (well it's her first sort of official day to start round the world adventure) we arrived to Yarmouth. "Parking" was an easy as we secured our boat at the end of berth. Registering, showers, chili made by Stewart and we were off to check local pubs. Guinness was good, free wi-fi - the day was finished. 

Moored in Yarmouth
...Friday morning I woke up after another perfect relaxing sleep and after got to the rear cabin - I heard Tim and Stewart talking that we are not sailing today as Gale force 8 wind is expected imminent. Winds were just too strong to continue so another day in Yarmouth on the Isle of Wight. Breakfast was made by me that morning (bacon, eggs and fried tomatoes with bread and butter) and we were off to check the town and ferry schedules as the men who knows what's going on ( =Stewart) had to leave Catweasel and her crew on Friday. We came back to pub visited yesterday to check weather forecast and have a beer (I just had half of my Guinness as the rest was knocked down by myself - see sickness to blame - on the ground I felt wavy and less coordinated). Stewart departed - I and Tim checked a new pub - one beer each and back to the boat. 
The Galley
Dinner -Special minced beef, baked beef and sth else sauce with bread - was served by Quartermaster Gurskis (me). Captain liked it (or that's at least what he told me - at least he ate all that stuff so it shouldn't have been so bad). After dinner we managed to watch 1/3 of the Jurassic park movie and were off to check the remaining pubs in town. Three pubs were visited that night - 4 Guinness drank and back to the boat for another perfect sleep.

...5am. Guinness was processed by my body and nature called to release unnecessary water. As quiet as I could - I went from front cabin to the berth. Tim was sleeping (or at least that's what he looked like). Half awake and probably still a bit drunk I stepped on the pontoon when suddenly heard from somewhere above - "Have a nice journey!". Apparently it wasn't God or Tim so I looked behind and saw another yacht leaving that was parked close to ours. I wished a pleasant journey back and walked to the shore to relieve myself from the Guinness and get back to sleep. Just as I was walking back to Catweasel - saw Tim “dancing” around the boat half dressed. Apparently another yacht rammed ours and Tim was forced to wake up really quickly. Such unplanned waking up is no good for him. Suddenly he had some strange idea that we have to leave (it was still roughly 5am in the morning). Half hour putting stuff back to the boat, eating breakfast (just leftovers from yesterday for myself) having a quick shot of espresso and before 6am we were off the Yarmouth marina. We motored out of the harbor to the open waters, sea was rough but decision was made to bring up sales for the first time.
The Needles
Such a great plan was suddenly forgotten as Tim noticed that main sails halliots (? main ropes) are tided together by another rope. Stewart was blamed for it. Decision was made to undo those ropes but sea became really rough, waves were coming in and decision (again) was dropped. We motored all the way across solent - against the wind but at least tide was in our favor - sort off. See was really rough. Even thou I was bravely standing in the cockpit and motoring, seasickness started to kick in and at one point when I decided to sit down – for the first (and the last time) I fed fishes with the remaining undigested content of the last food I ate. (Guinness and breakfast was to blame of course).

Tim continue to keep saying that in a few minutes when we reach that or another point- waters will get calmer and more relaxing. After 10th such notice and sth like 3 hours of motoring through the rough water - it actually became calmer. With no further a due - we approached the entrance to the Pool harbor. Two container ships were passed by and along the main entrance channel we entered the second biggest natural marina in the world. Tim called one of the berth parking/mooring place/thing office if they have space for our notoriously big 26 foot vessel - confirmation was received and in between red and green markers we entered the main channel (or at least that's what we though we did). At some point while I was motoring and steering - Tim had a strange idea to turn 90 degrees to the starboard side (for those that knows less sailing terms than I do - it's right side of the boat). Few seconds after - engine was still going ahead but the boat was not. We hit the ground. Reverse did not help, even my idea that Tim has to go in front of the boat as far as he could and the weight of the boat will be rebalanced and we somehow move away - it didn't help. Call was made to marina for help. However after 20 minutes - tide started to come and we were free again. GPS logger came to help and we noticed that instead of us thinking being in the main channel of the marina - we actually already were in the North Channel close to the place were we had to leave boat. I bravely steered in the closed harbor - our "parking place" was supposed to be 12A. As we saw it - it was few seconds to late but I still decided to give a go and bravely turned to the left (port side). I managed to hit the pontoon just in the center but it was enough time for Tim get off to the pontoon. After not sure what to do and seeing that in the next few seconds tide will push me towards a million dollars worth motorboat - I got a strange idea to go in reverse. And I did. Tim was left on the pontoon waving hands and shouting "Men what a h*** are you doing?" To be honest - I didn’t know. It was first time doing something similar – apparently steering 26 ft vessel – is somewhat different compared to steering a car. I saw another place for parking and shouted to Tim to run around the pontoon to the other side. He did it and again I hit the center of the pontoon (the initial plan was to go on the left side of it. Not sure how - but we managed to secure a boat in some other spot and Tim went to the marina registry to find out if it was ok - and it wasn't. We had to move Catweasel on the other side of our pontoon. This time we walked the boat and it was just perfect. 9A place was also good.
Moored in Poole
Our boat was "parked" among at least half million dollars worth of yacht on one side and another million worth on the other side and proudly face few million worth vessels on the opposite side of the channel! Catweasel’s blue bottom and yellowish deck a bit different from the other shining white boats parked around...

After showers to put salt off; cleaning; tiding the boat as most of the stuff was aground after rough sea - we were off to town. Beer, shopping for highly flammable liquid for our stove which prevented us from traveling on public transport (apparently highly flammable liquids are not allowed on public transport in UK) back to the boat, short nap, and back to the town for fish and chip and beer. Not very successful fish and chips hunting as we had to walk 5 miles to finally find a pub that serves not only beer but also fish and cheap. Walking wasn't silent - I tried to convince Tim that with his 85 amps batteries running 13 volts he could boil imaginary cattle (2000 watts 230 volts) for just half an hour. Tim was even pulling an idea that it could run for 8 hours. Even a tech text enquiry to my tech friend and his confirmation that - yes it still half an hour did not convince Tim. After 2 hours of such discussion - we finally approached a pub, had fish and chips and few beer each, took a taxi back to the boat and another perfect sleep.

... and the last day on the boat came. We were awake just before 10 am, showers, small breakfast for myself and before 11 am suggested by a "local expert" we left marina. The plan was to sail (actually sail not motor anymore) to the Weymouth were our good friend Peter kindly suggested to come and pick me up as the next day I had to catch a flight from Gatwick (and I did as this entry is being written on the plane). That was the plan anyway. We motored out of the marina to open waters with no incidents and started to put sails on. Even thou I am not an expert - but I think the whole sails up thing has to be done a lot smoother. Tim was running up and back the boat and shouting to release undone one or another rope while keeping boat head to wind. I was trying to execute his order as precise and fast as I could but that head to wind thing was not my thing. Front Gip (?) sail was up after some time and the work on the main sail was started. Long story short - after some shouting; failing to do that head to wind thing and with some help of an ordinary spoon – the main sail was up to; engine off and peace and calmness of the see... Finally!
Under Sail
Sails first time ever and I was behind it - keeping them (or trying to) 45 degrees to the wind and we were sailing. Actually sailing and moving forward. We did first tack. No problem. Seconds one - no problem again... All was good for almost two hours when we looked to the coastline and it hardly changed - in theory we had to move along it against the wind. GPS was brought to help and it showed that our land speed was roughly 1 - 2 knots while sea speed almost 7 at some points. We realized that we are heading not only against the wind but also against the tide. Actually I was a bit suspicious when after putting sail and seeing that a lot of sailing boats were coming towards us from Weymouth side and none with us to Weymouth. If we kept such speed - our ETA to Weymouth was about 12 hours and that is after midnight my dear readers. We decided not to risk (and not to trust any local expert advice from then on) and motor was kicked in; sails down (well putting sails down is another story with a bit of shouting, a bit of sth going wrong, me still not really managing to keep head to wind thing and finally one of the long main (important) ropes dangling on the top of the mast).

Traffic
Against the wind against the tide against and all the other boats we start heading straight towards Weymouth marina. ETA was still like 8 hours but the idea - that tide at some point had to turn around and help us instead of slowing - kept us going. No service on the phone - no way to inform Mr. Woodger that we will be very late to Weymouth (if at all before midnight). We just hoped that he will decide to check our spot thing tracker online and see where we actually are before start driving (and as we later found out - he did). Finally after 6 hours or pure motoring and me staring directly at the sun behind the lever and catching salty sea sprays (that's why I look pretty reddish on my face today) we managed to sail into Weymouth marina. Tim cracked the radio, called Harbor Master and we were good to enter and tide our boat to another one called High Sun, after several minutes of motoring we found it. The instruction was not really clear for me how to actually stare the boat - I just listened to Tim’s command to kill the engine and with Tim on the front of the boat I bravely ramped Weymouth marina/pontoon thing! One command was missing that after killing engine I actually had to turn right in order to come on the side. Bright side - even years to come in Weymouth marina I will still be able to find blue marked dent in it!
Weymouth

Boat was secured, Peter arrived, showers taken, things packed and Catweasel was left. My last Guinness, fish and chips in Weymouth and close to 11 at night we left Weymouth. I decided not to sleep even thou I was really tired but at some point I actually napped in the car on the way to Brighton. However not really possible to sleep when driving with Peter - he does not slow down on round about so some side force waked me up on every turn. Back to Brighton, back to sleep and well amazing week was finished.

It’s a plan (but well again plan is a jazz) to rejoined Catweasel and her Captain somewhere in the Meds later this year. For now – have a safe journey Catweasel and her Captain – Timothy S.A. Rawson!


Sunday 3 July 2011

2nd July 2011 Captain’s Log

Nautical Miles Logged - 50 (plus a bit from Portchester to Cowes and return)
Current Position of the Catweasel - Portchester (Wicor Marine)
Total Crew Count to date (inc. myself) - 4

Be warned - this is a long one, put the kettle on.

It’s been pointed out to me that I’ve been remiss in keeping this blog so, here I am, on the train to Portsmouth Harbour, writing.

I need to wind the clock back about eight days (to the 24th June) to a sunny morning in Basingstoke.


The plan
Meet at the railway station at 09:00, purchase provisions in Sainsbury’s, catch the 10:00 to Portchester, spend an hour getting ready and then sail to Cowes. Stewart and I would spend the day providing some basic training to Carlos and Neil as well as playing with the spinnaker. We’d moor up by 16:00 ish and then head into town for a few beers. The next day, so said the plan, we’d race the RTI, each one taking a 2 hour watch at the helm, in the crew position, at the navigation table and finally a off watch. It was a solid plan. We’d complete the race, triumphant, and celebrate in style in Cowes. Along the way we’d been cheered on by friends (some of whom had flown in from Vienna) and parents (who’d flown down from Scotland).

The reality....
Ahh, of mice and men. We got on the train at Basingstoke and everything went well until someone said “What’s the worst that could happen?“. The train stopped. There was a trackside fire and we couldn’t proceed. An hour we sat there. Arriving at the marina an hour behind schedule (but not really bothered as I’d built in some contingency), I went off to meet the sail maker who was putting race numbers on the spare sail whilst the other three loaded the Catweasel. For reasons best blamed on myself the sail wasn’t ready but not to worry, they said, - it’d be done by about 16:00. So we set off a tad later than hoped for and had lost the training time but no worries - we arrived in Cowes, at our swinging mooring, at roughly 18:00. The Catweasel was ready.

Race day - the 25th June 2011 . With the previous nights beers and kebabs sloshing around in our stomachs we headed off to Eegons for a pre race fry-up. In hindsight, this may have been a mistake. Anyway - back on board we waited on our swinging mooring for our starting gun having decided that being a wuss was better part of sailing (plus we didn’t want to sink anyone or be sunk). With the main pack off we loosed our warp and off we went, some fifteen minutes or so behind the main pack (our start time was 07:40). There were several boats near us so a careful watch was required but we’d made the right move I reckon. Avoiding the main pack reduced our newbie stress levels and we could focus on the sailing. Our only hails were of the jolly type rather than the screams of “starboard!!!”’ which could be heard drifting across the water.

The passage to the Needles was pretty rough and it “did for” Carlos who discovered a whole new way of feeling ill. After he’d fed the fish he went down below for a kip and the Catweasel was, for the moment, one crew man down. As we neared the Needles we noticed more and more boats heading back to Cowes but ignorance is bliss so on we went. If memory serves me correctly we arrived at the big pointy rocks of doom at about 12:30 and went around the point with ease (I’m redefining “ease” to mean “try to tack around the Needles several times but fail, having to bear away before trying, and succeeding, one more time, all the while watching the cliffs of crushiness getting very, very, very, close”).
From the Needles we ran before the wind in a very gentle ten to fifteen foot swell which., along with swallowing whole yachts, looked pretty impressive as they rolled up behind the Catweasel. It was rather peculiar to look up at waves. Sadly the swell took its toll and Neil was struck down by Mal de Fry-up. I popped my head down below every now and then and I was impressed by how quickly nausea set in and how long it took to recover. I’d estimate a five to one ratio - that’s five minutes below decks took me an hour above decks to recover.

At this point I need to point out that our VHF had been hearing mayday after mayday, the Solant coastguard & RNLI did an amazing job that day and if you know anyone that was on, or will be on a boat, then spare a thought for them and doff cap in a fashion of your choosing.

Anyway - we’d not seen any other yachts for literally hours but the Catweasel ploughed on, our half a reef (don’t ask) performing admirably. The weather, heavily overcast since the get go, was threatening to lighten up and the sky was now (this was about 15:00) a light grey instead of a dark grey. The seas were getting calmer now, the wind was dying down and the two guys below decks were starting to perk up so things were looking up. I’d had a change of clothes so was dry for the first time in hours and cups of tea and coffee were passed around. The exciting stage was over and all the remained was a gentle sail to the finish line.
The sun was shining, the clouds had cleared and a few other racing yachts were in sight and we were closing on the line. Another yacht hailed us and I hailed…OK OK, another yacht shouted at us and I shouted back - we’d missed a race maker and would be protested. A quick check in our hitherto ignored race folder infirmed us that we had to declare protests so a swift call was made and we were told a 2% time penalty would be applied so we relaxed a tad as we were here to complete not to compete.

On we sailed, and finally we had a chance to swap the helm around. Spirits were high all around now as I took the Catweasel across the finish line (in probably one of the worst finishes this year) and we grabbed our swinging mooring and cracked open a beer. We’d completed the RTI. - ahh, of mice and men.
The final number of boats to cross the finish line in Cowes was 1,302 and there were 438 retirements and 16 DSQ (disqualified) and/or OCS (on course side).”


Sure we were disqualified but for all of us on board just taking part was what mattered. I want to say thanks to my brother, to Carlos and to Neil for taking part, thanks to the Island Sailing Club for running the race and thanks to all the other competitors. It was only fifty miles and I’m aiming to do something in excess of thirty thousand over the next year and a bit but I reckon it’s going to remain one of the most memorable fifty.

Bluetooth and the blue boat

Slipway bound.
June 30th was liftout day for Catweasel and saw her collected and taken to the slipway. This was an unusual thing to behold as it saw Tim and I being overtaken by the unoccupied yacht whilst in the dinghy. I think it's safe to say this won't be happening often. It was the first time she'd been photographed moving on the water and perhaps a little more dignity for the poor girl would have been nice. On the plus side all went according to schedule. The lift out process at Wicor seems to have been built on many years of experiencing owners saying "Yeah, she'll be ready on the day!" and I suspect they got bored of finding this wasn't the case. This meant we had to strip sails and anchor and blank the log impeller. No idea how that one's meant to work as the only thing I know about log impellers is that they are bellow the waterline. Anyway, only once all this prep is done will they take liftout requests seriously so there was some potential for Tim's schedule to slip but thankfully that didn't happen.

Stick that on your ear and talk into it!
Anyway, we got to see what has to be one of the most amazing Bluetooth devices ever in the form of an umpteen ton remote control motorized boat lift. Basically it was driven under Catweasel whilst she was on the slipway, appropriate buttons were pressed and then the magic happened. Within a couple of minutes she was out of the water and ready to be propped upright in a quiet corner of the yard. This was a slightly less technical arrangement and involved some scaffold-like contrivances, some belting great chunks of wood, a wedge or two and a mallet.
Barely was she at rest then Ian, the local shipwright, was aboard and making busy with the installation of the cockpit drain. Tim and I then set about upsetting the superstitious by taking her old name off and prepping the hull to receive her beautiful "Catweasel" stickers to bows and the left side of her transom and an "of Muasdale" for the right side. Actually there is no "of" part as Tim elected to go for the brand new concept of implicit stickering, which is to say he forgot to order it.

Saturday 2 July 2011

Crew's Log: Stewart, Round the Island Race 2011

Friday June 24th, 9am, and Catweasel's crew were at Basingstoke station, hungover and ever so slightly sleep deprived after the last leg of Tim's tour of leaving dos. The plan was to head for the marina, get out onto the Solent by early afternoon and get some sailing time in ahead of the race. Carlos was a sailing virgin, Neil had sailed before but not for a while and Tim and I have both sailed on and off over about 25 years. Basically we weren't up to much and were all popping our RTI cherry - all the practice we could get was needed.

Within 5 minutes of leaving Basingstoke things had started to unravel. There was a fire by the railway line and we were running about an hour late by the time we reached Winchester - normally a 15 minute journey. This put our already mid-morning arrival at Wicor marina back to early afternoon, a delay compounded by the thoughtlessness of Portchester's planning authorities, who had consented to the building of a pub between Portchester station and the marina.

The next problem was with the sail. We'd taken the spare main in to get GBR numbered (for sailing in foreign parts), for some reason assuming it wasn't already wearing Catweasel's class number of CO170. It was. The meant that rather than slapping a few numbers on, the old ones had to be removed along with any remnants of glue, delaying the process considerably. By the time we left our mooring it was getting on for 5:30pm. No matter, we'd attach the sail to the boom, head off and worry about the rest as we motored out of harbour and get at least some tacking under the belts of our new crew. No - that wasn't to be either. The sail slide at the head of the main had been replaced as a precaution and had come with about two milimetres of bonus width. That meant some frenzied filing was needed and, while the Leatherman is a great tool, it's not the quickest way of slimming a sail slide and sat at the foot of the mast in the swell of the Solent isn't the best place in which to do it either, especially with Carlos having a roaring time at the helm and homing in on the biggest of the swells. Amongst nautical types there is a term for someone like that and the term is "bastard".

Delays and sail problems aside, we arrived at our swinging mooring on Cowes Road without incident, called the Island Sailing Club launch and made for the Vectis Tavern PDQ. This was our penultimate chance to settle on a clear strategy for the race so we got drunk and had a kebab.

Race day dawned in rather a grey manner with a fresh wind on the go, largely down to the kebabs I think. Having failed to use the previous evening to nail down a strategy we decided to go ashore and have breakfast at Eegons, where a "freshly cooked" fry up went from order to table in around 2 minutes. The strategy arrived at was that we would endeavour to to neither sink nor drown.

Back to Catweasel in the nick of time, assuming our intention was to be still on the mooring and halfway through the safety briefing when our start gun went off - I don't know if it was but we were. It was always a given that we were cruising and not racing so missing the carnage at the start line was a bonus really, and the delay would provide our first excuse for our anticipated poor time.

In no time we were underway and in no time Carlos, our sailing virgin, was feeling rough as hell. We must have been about halfway to the Needles when he broke Catweasel's chunder cherry. It was done with a degree of class mind you as a Harrods carrier bag was used to catch what should have flown off to leeward. Progress to Hurst Castle and the Needles was slow and, with the wind and swell increasing, the majority of cautious cruisers around us started to turn back. Our caution was driven by collision avoidance but we were all up for the wind and swell. Well, everyone apart from Carlos, who had retired below to hide on a bunk, held in by a lee cloth where he was kept nervously entertained by Mayday Panpan FM with nothing but a Harrods bag for company.

The only OMG moment we suffered was a failed tack whilst getting up close and personal with the Needles. The wind was slightly south of the swell so the momentum that took us through the wind was bludgeoned into submission by the swell while the sails were still luffing in the wind. This OMG moment was shortly followed by our only OMFG moment when the same thing happened again, this time even closer to the Needles. It was quickly decided that our only routes to safety were a disqualifying engine start or bearing away and jybing onto the port tack we needed. Desperate not to bow out on the first leg we turned our butt to the wind and before you could say "What comes after OMFG in the scale of escalating exclamations?" we had the Needles moving away from us.

The leg from the Needles to St Cat's point was a lonely one for us. Most of the people we'd started with, at the very back of the last fleet, seemed to have a greater sense of their own limitations and mortality and had turned back before the Needles. Carlos popped up from below briefly on this leg and got some sound advice from Tim on dealing with seasickness, threw up and went below again. Neil then decided he was going to take over on the wretching relay at which point, relieved of the burden of chunder monkey duty, Carlos started to recover. The swell we had on our beam down to St Cat's Point gave way to some lumpy stuff around the point itself and then it all got rather dull past Sandown Bay to be honest. We passed the capsized trimaran that we'd heard of so many times on Ch16 just in time to see the Bembridge Lifeboat not tow it anywhere. I don't know how that one came back in the end but it won't have been easy.

Given our imminent return to the Solent and all it's business we decided it was time to get some charting action on the go, so Tim went below to retrieve one of Imray's finest. Seconds later he was back on deck displaying the internationally recognised facial expression for "F#ck that sh#t!!" and spent the next half an hour trying to hang on to his lunch. I should point out at this point that our stowing was not up to the desired standard. To be honest it wasn't up to any standard and between the first four or five tacks off the start line the inside of the cabin started to resemble a badly loaded skip. Neil bravely went below and shovelled for all he was worth but, whilst dramatically decreasing the clutter and hazard, there was no real sense of what might be classed as order. Obviously this scared the life out of our neatly organised RTI folder and it had run off to cower in a corner, taking with it its contents of charts and instructions and leaving our downfall in its place. Without a chart upon which to plot our lat and long we fell back to basics - keep a big number of the depth finder and relying on the only available navigational aid, namely an out of date Collins road atlas of the UK (scale approximately one to a number with an awful lot of zeros on the end). At this point we noticed a nearby yacht sporting the familiar purple pennant of our fleet so decided we ought to stay close to him. Close enough in fact that we could clearly hear her helmsman when he yelled "You didn't round the Bembridge Lege Buoy. We're going to protest you." and for him to hear our response of "Er...OK". The wind and swell had pretty much died out by this time so I had another stab at finding the race folder and succeeded. All that was left in it was a note about protests, which was handy. Take it on the chin and get a 2% time penalty or argue the toss and risk a 5% hit. We had no idea about whether we had or hadn't rounded the buoy so called race control to 'fess up.

Once safely past Ryde Sands we half drifted toward Cowes and into the most painfully slow approach to the finish line in the history of the race. Any dignity that hadn't been lost already was jettisoned in the worst series of tacks bar none, the culmination of which was Catweasel losing all way and sort of drifting sideways across the line at 19:35 on the race clock, 11 hours and 55 minutes after our departure.

First contact with shore revealed that we had been disqualified but that we had confirmation of our completion and finish time courtesy of the official race blog. Okay so we'd cut a corner but had an outstanding day and had got round. On further enquiry it turned out we'd been disqualified because of the Bembridge Ledge Buoy incident, had not been protested for it and had basically grassed ourselves up in a vain effort to cut a deal with the race committee.

Another call to the ISC launch, followed by showers and we were back in the Vectis. This was followed by a meal and then a mooch around the entertainment laid on by JP Morgan before a water taxi took us back to our mooring.

Sunday dawned bright up and misty to the sides, with only the top of the Fawley chimney visible to the north of Cowes, so we launched back to Cowes after a wok full of sausages, bacon, beans and mushrooms, having decided Eegon's was a maybe a greasy spoon short of a cutlery set. The day brightened still further and after a healthy mooch around, and discovering that the Vectis was a late opener, we went back to the ISC for some San Miguels in the sun while Tim watched the prize giving.

As as soon as the ceremonies were finished we launched back to the ready to go Catweasel. With the engine running and Neil on the foredeck to cast off, the mooring line conveniently broke, chaffed through by the shackle on top of the swinging mooring. If we were to have pondered the carnage that might have ensued were this to have happened at any other time we'd have been mighty worried, so we didn't. A hefty piece of chain has since been purchased for future use.

A short motor across a misty Solent later and we were back in Pompey harbour and closing fast on Wicor. We'd had a truly fantastic weekend and a great kick off to Tim's round the world exploits. Both yacht and crew had done the necessary and done so with, if not style then certainly humour. It was, without doubt, a weekend that will not be forgotten.

Sunday 19 June 2011

Cap'n's Log - Preparation

My woman and I watch the rugby in Champs last night and then went to Godor and proceeded to get fairly hammered with some very good friends. That's two leaving do's down, one more to go. Fingers crossed my liver survives and I make it to the boat (ps: as I'm writing this I'm watching Long Way Down and dribbling at the thought).

Today is my last day in Hungary, I leave for Vienna first thing tomorrow (and then onwards on Wednesday). My bags are packed....cue John Denver. I've totally loved being here in BP for the last six months. It's such a different city from Vienna, far more my type of town, it's rougher, dirtier, smellier, younger, more vibrant, the music's awesome and easily found. I'd definately come back.

Preparation continues apace. I've ordered a new toy :-) a 70w solar panel, an Imray of the Isle of Wight (for the race). With luck the sail numbers will be ready on Tuesday and we can switch out the "old" sail for the "new" (they're both old though). I'm still umming and erring about a storm jib or a trisail and have yet to order a drogue.

My thoughts turned to visas today so I just had a butchas at the map, just for Africa, I need to check requirements for 22 countries* but it's also focussed the route down a tad more. Before it was "head south to SA and turn left" now it's "UK to Gib to Turkey to Gib to SA to Madagascar to Seychelles to Maldives and turn right".

Anyway, back to Long Way Down and checking visa requirements. Next blog from Vienna.

Morocco, Western Sahara, Mauritania, Senegal, Gambia, Guinea, Sierra Leone, Liberia, Ivory Coast, Ghana, Togo, Benin (never even heard of that one), Nigeria, Cameroon, Gabon, Congo, the Dem Rep. of Congo, Angola, Nambia, SA, Mozambique, Madagascar.

Thursday 16 June 2011

Captain's Log - preparation

Sooooooooooo.....

Last Thursday I travelled from Budapest to Vienna on my Moto Guzzi Breva 1100. A party was had and much beer was consumed at Charlie P's. Saturday my woman and I drove to Leuven and then on to Brighton for a night of Comedy on the Sunday. Monday rolled around and 3 boxes of "stuff" was dropped off at the boat. Another drive back to Vienna and a train and I'm back in Budapest.

Alas for my bike though - being of limited budget I've decided to sell it so it's currently with the dealer and I'm hoping they're going to offer me a fair price.

Anyhoo, got myself a few more toys today, a Navtex so I can receive weather forecasts in English and a SPOT GPS tracker so my friends and family can have a rough idea where the Catweasel is. It should be noted that SPOT isn't 100% accurate and that it can turn off from time to time so if the signal is lost it's not because I'm at the bottom of the Solant.

Had a bit of a last minute hiccough here. I'd hoped to stash the stuff I'm not taking with friends in BP but sadly they told me a few days ago that it was a no go. Luckily I've found a self storage company in BP that can take my stuff for a year. These last minute expenses are building up. For example I've had to abandon my idea about customised dodgers (spray guards for the cockpit) as they're now cost prohibitive.

Apart from that, things are going fairly smoothly. I'm tracking progress with a google docs "to do" list and meeting more or less daily with my brother using Skype (although now we've moved down to the last few days I'm using my mobile to call him for critical issues). The list currently has 30 items on it ranging from installation of my wind vane to passage planning Portsmouth to Plymouth.

With my flight scheduled for Wednesday, and my woman's name day on Tuesday, I'm, hopefully, travelling to Vienna on Monday. My BP leaving party, where I say goodbye to more friends, is this Friday. So...between now and 6am Monday I have to pack, drink, get a tad maudlin, cheer up, eat, drink some more, panic pack and then drive to Vienna. Easy :).

Someone here (BP) asked me about my emotional state. With luck that'll come over as I write but, just in case....I've moved into my last things stage. Last ride of the bike, last train ride from Vienna to BP, last time seeing certain friends so it's kinda sad. But I'm also moving very close to my first of a kind stage....if that makes sense. First time sailing around the Isle of Wight (RTI), first time living aboard, first time starting a "round the world", first meal, first...etc etc. so it's all sort of balanced right now.

Anyway, back to packing.

Thursday 9 June 2011

Captain's log - preparation - continued

So far it's been a very disjointed blog (my posts that is). I'm starting to think that because of the very nature of preparation - non linear-ish - that it's going to remain this way. Maybe it's that very fact that's made it easier than usual to not post.

Anyhoo...very quick update on the plan. Am in Budapest (BP) but tomorrow (Friday) I ride the Goose to Vienna for a leaving party in Charlie P's with my friends. On Saturday Alicja and I drive to Brighton and then onto Fareham to drop boaty stuff off (kaks etc) before driving back to Vienna. Then we (my fabulous bird and I) head to BP for another leaving party at the Embassy and then Champs. A day or two of packing before heading back to Vienna for my final flight to the UK - 23rd Jan. A night in Brighton with a good mate before heading to sunny Basingstoke for my last leaving party. On the 24th the crew of the good ship Catweasel head to Cowes and on the 25th we're racing in the RTI. Although we're using the RTI to kick off the circumnavigation I actually have to get Catweasel back to Fareham to do some last minute work (self draining cockpit & windvane fitting). That means that the actual departure is currently set for the 5th July. Oh, and I also have my VHF license course on the 2nd.

So..what has preparation included so far? well, whilst I'm expecting to be primarily single handed that's only because I'm not waiting around to find crew. If they turn up, they turn up, if they don't..ces't la vie. So far I have a Lithuanian to roughly Plymouth and my brother until Spain. A "may join" in August that I met last night (a lawyer even - so when he shouts Starboard you'd best move).  Crew makes everything cheaper so I'm open to suggestions and may even post on YBW once I get going.

What else? Electronics. I've ordered a McMurdo PLB (£216) (fingers crossed I never that), a hand held GPS (£65) (a Garmin eTrex) which is primarily for the grab bag (which reminds me to get a large scale chart or 3 for the bag), I've yet to order, but will, a Horizon HX280e hand held VHF.  The Catweasel has a fixed VHF so this one will also go in the grab bag. I got it as it'll take a battery pack that uses "normal" batteries (easier to buy and carry AAs etc and thus no need to recharge when in a life raft). In addtion I decided to order a SPOT GPS tracker. That's going to get used to send re-assurances to friends, family and loved ones that the Catweasel and her crew are still on track and OK. It'll also backup the PLB. On top of these toys I'll add my two laptops, my iPhone and my iPod. I'll charge these from the 2 x 85ah batteries. That leaves an open question as to how to charge the batteries. I was pretty close to ordering a wind gen but the techie guy at Marlec reckons I'll be better off with solar. I'm waiting to hear his "whys" before I place my final order.

Navigtion - currently it's based on large scale charts, a pilot book, Open CPN plus the CM93 maps, 2 x GPS units and a compass. I can't afford a plotter or rather decided not to afford one. Long live working out CTS (course to steer).

The Catweasel herself is, I hope, pretty much ready but I'll use the sail to Plymouth as a stress test (for both boat and crew) and then repair on the fly. Am also waiting to get the RYA sail numbers on the sail, the SSR need to get their arse in gear a bit, a few dodgers need making, the chart table needs fixing (I *embarrassed cough* sat on it). I need to make her "batten down-able", fat arse proof and brother proof (if you recall he's already set her on fire, run her aground (twice now) and stress tested the forward hatch beyond its breaking point). I see a lot of duct tape in my near future.

Personal stuff - I'm burning as many of my movies as I can onto HDD, I've packed most of my stuff into storage boxes (am hoping a few of my friends will help out with storage). I'm selling everything I can't carry (tables, sofas, chairs, my *weep* 50 inch plasma, my blu-ray, and white stuff). The other type of personal stuff - the leaving parties, are arranged. My parents are coming down to see us off on the 25th so that's gonna be pretty cool. That leaves Alicja and I. It's going to be pretty hard to be apart I reckon, maybe even the hardest bit of the whole thing but I reckon it's going to strengthen our relationship and that's all I have to say on that subject :)

So...16 days of preparation time left.

Talk later peeps.

Wednesday 8 June 2011

Windvane Frolics

It seems that the last 2 days have been exhausted entirely on trying to get the fitting of Catwesel's new windvane sorted in time for the first leg of the journey on July the 4th or 5th.

What had seemed a simple task of getting the windvane's designer/builder and the shipwright in the same place at the same time turned into an epic struggle but one that is hopefully now done. Everyone was fully co-operative but, as is probably going to be the case quite a lot in these early days, Donald Rumsfeld's "...things we did didn't know we didn't know..." reared up to bite proverbial behinds.

Having lined up Trenchard, from Neptune Windvane's, and Ian Foster, the shipwright, for an installation on June 28th, all that was needed was to arrange for Catweasel to be lifted out of the water the previous day. I say "All". Wicor Marine, Catweasel's current home, is nestled in the relatively shallow waters of Portsmouth Harbour's north west corner. As it turns out, this means that getting the boat close enough to the slipway to be lifted out of the water can only be done around high water. Couple this with the fact that the Wicor's staff, quite understandably, don't work 24 hours a day and we're left needing a high tide that falls between 8 and 5. This is also complicated by the fact that the lower level of water around weaker, neap tides aren't up to it. Consequently the 28th fell by the wayside.

One chat with the very friendly chaps a Wicor later and a provisional date of June 30th was pencilled in, with the work to be done on July 1st. This suited both Ian and Trenchard but just as I thought we were in the clear, Trenchard asked whether Ian was a welder. Another phone call confirmed that not only was he not a welder but that the resident welder at Wicor was unwell and wouldn't be able to assist.

Thankfully, Wicor maintain a list of approved service providers on their website and a company called Fabtech came into view. Another phone call and we were there! The tide, Wicor's crane, Trenchard and the windvane, Ian and Fabtech are now all lined up to leap into action and, subject to a lack of further complication, Catweasel should be back in the water and sporting a beautiful new windvane in time for the scheduled departure date. Here's hoping!


Sunday 5 June 2011

Crew's Log: Stewart, 01-04/06/11


Thomas chilling in the cabin.What do you know - all was well and good after all. Well, mostly.

Thomas and I met Philip at Hornet as planned and after a quick run through of vital systems we'd waved farewell to him and were chugging into the heart of Portsmouth harbour with Wicor on our mind. No massive problems on the way other than another yacht being on the mooring we were supposed to pick up, and we spent the rest of the day getting familiarised with those finer points that hadn't seemed significant enough earlier in the day to bother Philip with. Oh, and the wind caught the forward hatch while I was getting the dinghy out, slammed it into the the deck and did for the hinges. Nothing major and a repair ought to be a simple enough thing. Honest Tim!

The following morning we visited the local BP station to stock up on fuel and then headed out into the Solent. With a light but steady wind we decided to get the sails up and in no time were approaching Cowes. We anchored in Osborne Bay, just to the east of Cowes, for lunch and Thomas promptly decided he was going to suffer from a bout of seasickness. Luckily it passed as soon as we were under way again and he was untroubled for the rest of our time aboard.

Having returned to the mooring that night we decided to putt down the river in the dinghy and see what we could see. The answer? Not much - we'd got about a mile downstream and ran out of petrol. I had it in my head that I'd filled the tank but all I'd done was drain the fuel can. We, or rather I, had to row upstream so I did not row gently, neither did I row 'merrily merrily merilly merilly' and life was certainly not a dream - particularly after I let the painter slip when we got back to Catweasel and watched the sodding dinghy slowly drift away. I leapt back to the cockpit for the boat hook but by the time I was back on the bow and trying to catch the dinghy she was gone. Shorts off, shirt off, Stewart in!

A strong northerly blew all night and was still at it come Friday morning so I decided it would most likely not be a sailing day. We motored out and I had my first experience of why Portsmouth harbour can be such a sod. Well, actually my first experience (aboard a yacht at least) of why a sod can be such a sod - As we came through the relatively narrow harbour mouth we had a gin palace bearing down on us at a rate of knots as he came in from the Solent. I looked about to make sure we were in the right place and all was well but this chap just kept coming. Time ticked slowly by and it became obvious he had no intention of moving to pass on out port side so I heaved the tiller to my left, lurched to starboard and then had to straighten up again before we had an altercation with the harbour wall. The helmsman on the gin palace seemed amazed by this as he looked down from his flying bridge and slammed his vessel into reverse. A member of their crew was despatched to the foredeck to demand an explanation and as I yelled (with perhaps a little too much help from Thomas) "We should be passing port to port, what are you doing!?!?" she yelled "Your supposed to pass on this side of us!", pointing to their starboard beam, "It's the rules of the road!". I was too stunned to reply. I kind of hope they learned from it after a "You'll never guess what happened to us today!?" conversation with a wiser skipper but know that there will be a hundred more out there with the "If it's got a steering wheel I'll drive it like a car" approach.

So that was Friday. Saturday morning was a time of tidying up, locking down and heading home and so we did.

Tuesday 31 May 2011

Crew's Log: Stewart, 31/05/11

After a frenzy of emails and shopping and arguments with train companies, my son and I are ready to head for Portsmouth to collect my brother's new yacht, Catweasel. She's being moved from her previous owner's mooring at Hornet Sailing Club to the slightly less glamorous but, Hornet being a Forces only club, infinitely more available Wicor Marina at Fareham. All being well and good, all should be well and good, however my record aboard Catweasel does not shine like a beacon in the night...

Erroneous action the 1st, day 1 - Catweasel runs aground:
Yes, I was at the helm but no, it was not my fault. No seriously! With Lewis Hamiltonesque misfortune I was a victim of circumstance and blamed by those who should know better. All I did was turn to starboard - the mud shouldn't have been there! It turned into me!! Stupid mud. It didn't make no never mind though, as we managed to "kedge off" - something that I learned by observation and participation to mean "send the idiot who got us into this mess down stream to drop the anchor directly over a submerged power cable so we can winch ourselves off the bottom". If I'm honest, I'm not 100% sure the involvement of the power cable was intentional but then I'm only crew, and working hard on maintaining my blissful ignorance.

Erroneous action the 2nd, day 2: Catweasel catches fire:
Yeah, so this one was my fault. I lit the meths stove while we were motoring and forgot that I needed to unlock the gimbals. What was iffy while motoring became damn near disastrous when we raised the sails and headed into the Solent. Thankfully Philip, the previous owner, was aboard to save the day. He's probably wondering what his baby is going to suffer at the hands of her new crew.

So that's a howler per day aboard and tomorrow will be day 3, unsupervised, apart from by Tom the cabin boy, in one of the UK's busiest harbours. Tim, it has to be said, is a tad nervous.

captain's log preparation

6th February 2011

Starting this diary, maybe I should say ships log? now..now being the 6th February 2011. Am sitting in Champs Bar in Budapest having moved here...wait....time to back up some,

The first working day back from my NA2010 trip i was made redundant. officially my last working day was the last day of 2010 but i was on garden leave for the last 3 months.






Picture time - here's me roughly 9 months ago when I started to "plan" this





What to do, what to do - never being much of a realist I figured it was time to fulfil another lifetime ambition and sail around the world :) I have sailed in the last, many many years ago, so the concept doesn't daunt me but where to start.

So up with a plan I came.
  • First I'd move to Budapest, more for the new outlook than any cost of living argument but €2 vs nearly €4 a pint of beer didn't hurt.
  • Next I'd take a number of sailing courses to get some formal qualifications - those courses being "competant crew", "day skipper - coastal" and "VHF radio license".
  • Finally - sail around the world.
Easy :)

As of the time of writing I am booked on "competant crew" and will be heading to Brighton in a few weeks for a week of live-aboard training.

At the same time I am researching boats and building a very loose network of contacts and forums. I hope to meet a friend of a friend in Southampton in a few weeks and, with luck, this week, I'll have lunch with a Serbian who runs a sailing center in Croatia.

My current thinking for boats is a Westerly Centaur and a budget of £5,000 to £10,000. The more I read the more options I open up but it does seem as if I am "limited" to something between 21 foot and 30 foot.

As for route - I am building in check points - so around the UK (did I like it? yes/no), then around Europe (to the med and back rather than north), and then around the world.

Right now I am probably doing this solo, not through choice but through a lack of a partner - if I am lucky I'll find someone who shares the same goals but I am not delaying

Anyway, for now, back to surfing the web looking for gems of knowledge.

Current questions -
  1. what is the difference between a sloop and a ketch? (twin vs single mast)
  2. What is the rhumb line? (In navigation, a rhumb line (or loxodrome) is a line crossing all meridians of longitude at the same angle, i.e. a path derived from a defined initial bearing. That is, upon taking an initial bearing, one proceeds along the same bearing, without changing the direction as measured relative to true north.)
  3. how much water (per person) do i need to take with me on a trans-atlantic? 2l per day per person
  4. how long will it take to sail around the UK? N/A - plans have changed
  5. How much is a water maker? far too much and I have no holding tanks anyway
  6. What type of radio should I get? 2....a VHF for the boat and a handheld VHF powered by AA batteries for the grabbag
 18th May 2011

Well, a hell of a lot of water has flowed under the proverbial. I'm currently sitting in Charlie P's in Vienna having just flown back from the UK where I completed the RYA Day Skipper course. This was the second RYA course I've taken (the first being compentant crew) and, subjectively, I reckon anyone with sailing experience could skip the crewing course as it covered the essentil basics such as mooring, handling under engine and sail, safety and so on. The Day Skipper focussed more on navigation (passage making, creation and so on) which was/is definately my weak spot. I'm glad I did both though, they provided me with (over)confidence :).

So..what else is new, ahh yes, I've bought a boat, a Contessa 26. I'd narrowed my chouice of boats down to the Centaur, an Albin vega, a Cobra 750 and the Contessa and then searched around for a boat in my budget. I bought Wiskiwoo, a 1969 boat, based out of Gosport, and spent the last two days of this week (16th and 17th May) sailing her. She's a wet boat, certainly compared to the Benatau 36 I'd spent the previous week on, but sleek and she's mine, mine I say, all mine!!!!

Here's me & Catweasel (I'm the one in the red jacket, Catweasel is the boat shaped one wearing blue) and the previous owner doing the formal handover...about to inbibe a few at the Master Builders.







breaking this to scoff food, tbc







and here is me now...June 1st..working on my sailory goatee