Flying Fish 2011-1 - Ocean Cruising Club

20 /
2011/1
The Journal of the
Ocean Cruising Club
1
2
OCC
officers
ADMIRAL
COMMODORE
VICE COMMODORE
REAR COMMODORE
REGIONAL REAR COMMODORES
IRELAND
AUSTRALIA
NEW ZEALAND
USA NORTH EAST
USA SOUTH EAST
WEST COAST NORTH AMERICA
ROVING REAR COMMODORES
PAST COMMODORES
1954-1960
1960-1968
1968-1975
1975-1982
1982-1988
1988-1994
1994-1998
1998-2002
2002-2006
2006-2009
FOUNDED 1954
Mary Barton
Bill McLaren
George Curtis
Mark Holbrook
John Bourke
Alex Whitworth
Nina Kiff
Doug and Dale Bruce
Sid and Rebecca Shaw
Tony and Coryn Gooch
Graham and Avril Johnson
Rosemarie and Alfred Alecio
Mike and Liz Downing
Guy Cosby and Karen Houston
David Caulkill
Humphrey Barton
Tim Heywood
Brian Stewart
Peter Carter-Ruck
John Foot
Mary Barton
Tony Vasey
Mike Pocock
Alan Taylor
Martin Thomas
SECRETARY Richard Anderton,
Secretary, Ocean Cruising Club Ltd
10 Carlisle Road, Hampton
Middlesex TW12 2UL, UK
Tel: (UK) +44 20 7099 2678; (USA)+1 360 519 5401
Fax: (UK) +44 870 052 6922
e-mail: secretary@oceancruisingclub.org
EDITOR, FLYING FISH Anne Hammick
Falmouth Marina, North Parade
Falmouth, Cornwall TR11 2TD, UK
Tel: +44 1326 212857
e-mail: flying.fish@oceancruisingclub.org
OCC ADVERTISING Dick Moore – contact details page 196
OCC WEBSITES www.oceancruisingclub.org
http://ciccc.oceancruisingclub.org
1
CONTENTS
Editorial
The Commodore’s Column
The 2010 Awards
Diary of ax
Canadian Atlantic Hurricane
Time out in the Baja
Picking up WiFix
beyond its usual range
Arrival in Australia
Exploring the Ionian Islands
From the Galley of ...
(also on pages 124, 158, 175 & 194)
PAGE
3
4
6
14
23
John Franklin
Graham & Avril Johnson
34
43
51
63
Harald Sammer
David and Linda Friesen
David Fry
Bill & Nancy Salvo; Gavin & Georgie
McLaren; Sue Thatcher; Lesley Scott;
Anne Hammick
Rev Bob Shepton
Greenland, Horizontal and Vertical 66
Guidelines for Contributors 80
Gothenburg to Itchenor with Wotan 85
An Appreciation 99
Across the Pacific with Alchemi 103
Flood! 117
Book reviews 126
A Winter in Las Canarias
Chinook Crash –x
The Yachtsman’s Evidence
Homeward Bound via the Azores
Flares: An Update
Back to Brac
Obituaries and Appreciations
Advertisers in Flying Fish
Advertising Rates and Deadlines
Anthony Fawcett
Penelope Curtis
Mike Bickell
David Friesen
My Yacht Designs and the Lessons they
taught me; Reeds Superyacht Manual;
North Africa; Dolphins under my Bed;
The Marine Quarterly; Reeds Nautical
Almanac online service: Imray Digital
Chart 1D100 Eastern Caribbean;
Anchoring; The Boat Maintenance Bible
Andy Scott
137
148
161
173
177
187
195
196
Mark Holbrook
Dick Moore
Terry O’Brien
David Bains
HEALTH WARNING
The information in this publication is not to be used for navigation. It is largely
anecdotal, while the views expressed are those of the individual contributors and are
not necessarily shared nor endorsed by the OCC or its members. The material in
this journal may be inaccurate or out-of-date – you rely upon it at your own risk.
2
As I sit in my office on a lovely April day I cannot help but rejoice that this is the LAST
year that I will be doing so. No, I’m not retiring but, as those who read my last editorial
will already know, the Flying Fish publication schedule is about to change. To recap,
the deadline for the next Fish will be 1 October instead of 1 September – both to give
northern hemisphere members more time in which to write up ‘summer’ passages, and to
allow me to neglect my e-mail in August and go sailing. Conversely, the deadline for the
June issue comes forward a month from 1 March to 1 February, which should allow me to
get the issue to the printers by early April, and then get to work on my much-loved but
sadly neglected Rustler 31. Just one question – the next Fish will be circulated in January
2012 rather than in December 2011, so do we continue to call it Flying Fish 2011/2 or
would Flying Fish 2012/1 be more accurate? Opinions please!
Still on the subject of deadlines – or at least incoming contributions – could I draw the
attention of British members to the intransigence of Royal Mail. Although a ‘small letter’
can be up to A5 in area (the size of Flying Fish) it cannot be more than 5mm thick – and
nearly all USB sticks and most CD cases exceed this. Letters with ‘insufficient postage’ are
no longer delivered, which entails not only a visit to the sorting office to pay the excess
but inevitable delay. And to cap it all, such letters are apparently sent via a ‘revenue
protection’ office which doesn’t operate at weekends... Carrier pigeons were faster!
Of course most initial contact is made by e-mail, in which case could I ask you
to identify either yourself or your article in the subject line – you’d be amazed how
many of the e-mails I receive are called simply ‘Flying Fish’ or ‘Flying Fish article’! An
incoming e-mail entitled ‘Article from Christopher Columbus’ (I wish!) or ‘Passage
from La Gomera to San Salvador’ is much less likely to be overlooked or misfiled.
Many thanks in anticipation.
Observant readers may notice an increased number of advertising pages in this issue.
Please be assured that this is NOT an either/or situation and that nothing has been
omitted to make space for them. Without Dick Moore’s hard work and the support of
our regular advertisers this issue would be that much thinner – and the OCC would
have less income to spend on all its projects, Flying Fish included.
Finally, and returning to where I came in, could I remind you that the DEADLINE
for the next Flying Fish is SATURDAY 1 OCTOBER. Of course there’s nothing to
stop you submitting articles early – in fact I welcome it – but don’t be surprised if you
don’t hear anything immediately. I might have gone sailing!
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THE COMMODORE‛S COLUMN
My dictionary describes a mentor as one who gives wise and trusted advice, and
that is what the new OCC mentoring scheme is all about. I am much enjoying
the dialogue with the new member who has drawn the short straw of having
me as his mentor, but I didn‛t feel particularly wise, or indeed trustworthy,
when faced with the question of what spares should be carried when you set
off for extended cruising.
It‛s a question with no easy answer and my mind went back to my youth
as a nuclear submarine engineer, when we carried millions of pounds‛ worth
of spares but never seemed able to find the right part when we needed it.
In one corner of the engine room was a large box which contained a spare
bearing for the main gearbox. It must have weighed about half a ton and it
would have needed at least six months in the dockyard to fit. It would have
been a smart plan to free up some space by leaving it at home, and if I recall
correctly we eventually were allowed to do so. At the other end of the scale,
if you wanted a simple 3/8 inch left-handed widget it wasn‛t there, or if it was
you couldn‛t find it in the system.
So from this emerges the First Law of Spares, which states that whatever
spare parts you carry you will need something else.
For the founding fathers of the OCC it was quite easy. A couple of spare
shackles, a bit of cordage, sail repair stuff, seals and washers for the Baby
Blake loo and spare glasses for the oil lamps, and that was about that. Today,
even the greatest KISS exponent has a lot of kit. And if you start adding
‛fridges, heaters and a watermaker and can‛t resist the lure of electronic
gizmos, your potential spares list starts to grow like a leylandii cypress.
So what‛s to be done? We came across a yacht in the Beagle Channel,
admittedly a big hi-tech one, whose owner took the line that you carried
absolutely everything. Shelf after shelf of beautifully packaged stuff was
all catalogued on the computer and you felt sure he would find the widget he
needed. Confidence in the system was slightly dented by the news that they
were waiting for ‛fridge spares to be flown in from New Zealand, but it certainly
looked good. At the other end of the scale there are those who say that there
is no point in carrying anything other than consumables such as filters, drive
belts and the like. Their argument is that if something breaks the chances of
you having all the bits you need are low. So if you have to ship in the missing
bits, why not ship in the lot and save carting stuff around?
As is so often the case, I suspect the answer lies in the middle. But you‛ll
still never have the right bit.
Bill McLaren
commodore@oceancruisingclub.org
4
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5
THE 2010 AWARDS
The Awards were presented following the Annual Dinner at the Royal Southampton Yacht
Club on Saturday 26 March 2011. Awards Chairman Peter Whatley describes the event:
With over one hundred members and guests booked in for the Annual Dinner and
Awards ceremony it was certain to be a most memorable occasion. The winners had
flown in from the USA, Ireland, Sweden and Madeira to receive their awards, so
from the outset the evening was busy with plenty of stories being exchanged and
new friendships made. A kind letter from Irish member Harvey Kenny sums it up:
‘A short note to express my appreciation and gratitude for a most enjoyable AGM,
dinner and Awards ceremony. It was a pleasure meeting old and new friends. I am full
of admiration for the dinner organisers for producing such good hospitality at such an
attractive cost. Very well done’.
The OCC Awards are carefully considered and their value important, and for that
reason some awards may not be presented every year. 2010 was a good example.
This year the Awards were presented by Jane McLaren, wife of our Commodore.
THE OCC AWARD OF MERIT
One or more awards, open to members or non-members who have performed some
outstanding voyage or achievement. This year two awards were made.
The first OCC Award of Merit went to Jeremy Rogers for his contribution to
worldwide yachting over
50 years. Jeremy started his
business back in 1961 and
continues today building
the iconic Contessa 32 and
providing valuable back up
to his many thousands of
customers all around the
world. Jeremy and his wife
Fiona were guests of the
OCC, and he accepted his
award to huge applause.
Jeremy Rogers
and Awards Chairman
Peter Whatley
6
The second OCC Award of
Merit went to Rolf Bjelke
and Deborah Shapiro for
their incredible voyages in
Northern Light, venturing as
far north and as far south
as anyone has ever sailed.
As if this were not enough
they over-wintered in the
ice in Antarctica. Their
fascinating book Time on Ice
is recommended reading.
Rolf Bjelke and
Deborah Shapiro
admire their
Award of Merit
and display it to
the assembled
members and
guests
Rolf and Deborah spoke after receiving their award, highlighting the fragility of our
planet together with the changes in children’s education which mean that many
youngsters do not understand the natural world around them.
7
THE OCC AWARD
Made to the member or members who has/have done most to ‘foster and encourage
ocean cruising in small craft and the practice of seamanship and navigation in all
branches. This may include any invention, report, idea or action which is calculated
to promote the objects of the Club’.
Jeanne Socrates was winner of this award for her amazing grit and determination.
Having lost her boat just 50 miles short of completing a singlehanded circumnavigation,
Jeanne bought a new boat and set off again only to face engine problems in the South
Atlantic and then be caught in horrendous conditions off Cape Horn. She limped
back to Ushuaia for repairs.
In true OCC
fashion I had her
medal engraved and
sent it out to the
Falklands, where my
son William was just
about to leave his
ship, the RRS Ernest
Shackleton, for three
months’ leave.
He planned to
travel to Ushuaia
and then on
through Chile and
the Caribbean to
join STS Tenacious
in Antigua for the
passage to Bermuda.
He flew to Punta
Arenas, took the
bus to Ushuaia, and
wandered down the
dock to find Jeanne
and present her with
her medal.
She was amazed
and delighted, and
offered her apologies
for not being at the
Awards ceremony!
8
THE GEOFF PACK MEMORIAL AWARD
For the person (member or non-member) who, by his or her writing, has done most
to foster and encourage ocean cruising in small craft.
Doug and Dale Bruce were the
popular winners of this award and
had made the trip from Camden,
Maine to be with us. Their work
in producing the Cruising Guide
to Newfoundland prompted the
nomination for the award, and
those planning to cruise the area
will find it to be an authoritative
guide. It is a superb production
which raises the standard to a new
and very professional level.
Jane McLaren with Doug and Dale Bruce
Doug shows off the Geoff Pack
Award – not to mention his smart
OCC blazer – after the ceremony
THE RAMBLER MEDAL
For the most meritorious short voyage made by a Club member or members.
Mike and Liz Taylor-Jones sailed to Norway’s North Cape in their classic 1961
Bermudan yawl, Rampage, as described in Flying Fish 2010/1. Mike was inspired to
make such a voyage after sailing with H W Tilman to Greenland back in 1961, and
9
with the dream realised they have now sold Rampage and bought Tsunami, a Sadler
Starlight 35. They were unable to attend the Awards presentation, but their friend
Martin Thomas kindly received the award on their behalf.
THE OCC PORT OFFICER MEDAL
An award instituted in 2008 and awarded to one or more Port Officer(s) who has/
have provided outstanding service to the Club and its members. This year we had two
winners of the Port Officer Medal.
The first winner was Cátia Carvalho, Port Officer for Quinta do Lorde, Madeira. We were
delighted to be able to make the presentation to Cátia in person, as she had flown from
Madeira to attend the Awards ceremony. After receiving her Port Officer Medal Cátia
spoke with obvious pride and enthusiasm of her pleasure in being able to help members
of the OCC when they visit the beautiful island of Madeira. She hoped that many more
would sail to
Madeira and
promised them
all a very warm
welcome.
Cátia spoke
with great
enthusiasm
about
Madeira,
and promised
a warm
welcome
to all OCC
members
who visit
10
The second Port Officer Medal went to Frank Castella, Port Officer for Las Palmas,
Gran Canaria, for his great work in helping all those (members and non-members
alike) in their preparation for the ARC. He has been very successful in recruiting new
members as a result. We owe him a great debt of gratitude for his unstinting efforts on
behalf of the Ocean Cruising Club. Unfortunately Frank was unable to attend, but
Commodore Bill McLaren kindly accepted the award for Frank.
THE WATER MUSIC TROPHY
For the member or members who has/have contributed most to the Club by way of
providing cruising, navigation or pilotage information.
David Barker and Lisa Borre of Gyatso have been keeping an excellent record of
their voyages – first in Canada in 2005, then the West Indies and across the Atlantic
to Iberia, the Mediterranean in 2009, and then in 2010 into the Black Sea. They
have taken enormous trouble in the presentation of this information, and never
forego an opportunity to pass on useful information to those who follow in their wake.
Unfortunately they were unable to attend due to prior commitments, but Erik Vischer
kindly received the award on their behalf.
And finally……
THE DAVID WALLIS TROPHY
For the ‘most outstanding or valuable contribution to Flying Fish’, as chosen by the
Editor and her Sub-Committee. The trophy, a silver salver, was a gift from the family
of the previous editor of our club journal. Current Editor Anne Hammick writes:
This year my Sub-Committee were not consulted, for the good reason that I wished
to nominate them for this award. Their main task is to check and correct the proofs,
and if you seldom find errors – major or minor – in Flying Fish, it is largely due to their
combined knowledge, skill and dedication. (If you do spot an error, I’ve probably
managed to add it at the layout stage, after the proofs were circulated). I also rely
heavily on their advice – I am fortunate to have a retired judge, a doctor, the past
editor of one of the UK’s major sailing magazines, and several circumnavigators
amongst their number.
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Though not all my current team of twelve were able to attend the dinner and Awards
presentation, it was a delight to see so many, some of whom had never met before.
The Award was accepted by our Admiral, Mary Barton, not because of her rank but
because she alone has proof-read every issue since I took over as Editor in 1990. My
grateful thanks (in strictly alphabetical order) to Mary Barton, Dave Beane, Peter Cook,
Fay & John Garey, Judge Harvey Kenny, Chris Knox-Johnston, John Power, Sarah
Stevens, Tony & Jill Vasey and Dr Patsy Watney, as well as to all their predecessors
over the past 21 years.
Admiral Mary
oversees the
transfer of
Peter Haden’s
broad pennant
as Rear
Commodore
Ireland to new
incumbent
John Bourke
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Admiral Mary with long-serving
Treasurer David Caulkill, who was
appointed a Roving Rear Commodore on
hanging up his abacus to go cruising
Jeremy and Fiona Rogers, with
Jeremy’s OCC Award of Merit
Photos by Cátia Carvalho, Peter
Haden, Anne Hammick, Dick Moore,
Clive Scott and William Whatley
The Annual Dinner was less formal
than in previous years, allowing hotelier
and past Rear Commodore Ireland
Peter Haden to demonstrate his skills...
Cátia Carvalho, Port Officer for
Quinta do Lorde, Madeira, with her
OCC Port Officer Medal
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DIARY OF A CANADIAN ATLANTIC
HURRICANE
John Franklin
(Al Shaheen is a 42ft aluminium alloy sloop, launched in England in 2001. She crossed
the Atlantic the following year, and since then John and Jenny have explored the Caribbean,
the US East Coast and Nova Scotia.)
One normally associates Atlantic hurricanes with the Caribbean, Florida and the Gulf
States of the US, but they occasionally threaten the eastern seaboard of the US and
the Canadian Maritime Provinces. Atlantic hurricanes are normally spawned in the
area of the Cape Verde Islands, and almost always start by tracking westwards towards
the eastern Caribbean islands. The majority pass across the Lesser Antilles and into
the Caribbean Sea, and then either head north towards Florida and Louisiana, or west
towards Cuba and Haiti and then into the Gulf of Mexico. However a few ‘re-curve’
to the northwest just before or immediately after passing the Virgin Islands, cross the
Bahamas, and then track northwards parallel to the US east coast, usually clipping
Cape Hatteras and heading into New England or the Canadian Maritimes.
In late August 2010 Hurricane Danielle became the first threat of the season but, in
the event, passed well east of Bermuda and then spun off to the northeast and decayed
Preparing the ground tackle
14
The calm before the storm
harmlessly over the Atlantic. On 24 August Al Shaheen was in St Peter’s at the southern
entrance to the Bras d’Or Lakes. We had an internet connection and became aware of
the then Tropical Storm Earl. Our primary source of information for the next 12 days
was the regular bulletins issued by the US National Hurricane Center, an offshoot of
NOAA (the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration). When we didn’t
have an Internet connection – which, during our trip southwestwards down the Nova
Scotia coast, was most of the time – we found that we could receive these bulletins
over our SSB radio via the Saildocs service, using a Pactor III Modem.
We planned to return to Chester in Mahone Bay to haul out on 13 September, and
also to attend a Cruising Club of America raft-up on 4 September and a Cruising
Association meet the next day. We envisaged a leisurely trip down the coast exploring
new anchorages.
24 August
Al Shaheen left St Peter’s and sailed across Canso Straits to Canso, a lovely thrash to
windward in southerly 20 knots, well reefed. Calm night at anchor in Canso.
25 August
Al Shaheen sailed to Yankee Cove in Whitehead Harbour, another 25 mile beat
to windward in sunshine. The next day produced foul weather so, after dragging
at first light, we re-anchored in a more sheltered cove and went back to bed. No
other boats in the anchorage.
15
16
27 August
A boisterous 41 mile sail to Isaacs Harbour in a lumpy sea, under reefed main and
reefed jib, followed by a beautiful, calm evening in lovely surroundings.
28 August
NHC bulletin No.10: ‘Tropical Storm Earl racing westwards over the tropical Atlantic’,
1140 miles east of the northern Leeward Islands.
We motor and then sail 28 miles to Marie Joseph’s Harbour, where we pick a huge
pot of mussels for dinner. Beautiful evening and no other boats in the anchorage.
29 August
NHC bulletin No.14A: ‘Earl heading towards the Leeward Islands in a hurry’, 570
miles east of the Northern Leeward islands with central pressure of 989mbs.
We motor-sail 29 miles to Malagash Cove in Sheet Harbour. One other boat in
the cove.
30 August
NHC bulletin No.18A: ‘Hurricane Earl heading for the northern Leeward Islands’, 100
miles east of Barbuda and now a Category 1 hurricane with central pressure of 972mbs.
We sail and motor 58 miles to Sambro Harbour. An incredibly hot day, perhaps 35°,
with water temperature at 23° – this is Nova Scotia, land of fogs and cold water! We
watch a local fishing boat unload a huge catch of Porbeagle shark and swordfish, plus
three bluefin tuna valued at $10,000 just for the three of them!
31 August
NHC bulletin No.22A: ‘Earl continues to move away from the Virgin Islands’. By
now it is 95 miles northeast of Puerto Rico and moving west-northwest, with central
pressure down to 939mbs. Having clipped the Virgin Islands Earl has become a
Category 4 hurricane with maximum sustained winds of 135 knots, and is expected
to turn northwest.
Looks like we may have a problem! We sail to Mahone Bay to look for somewhere
to shelter, e-mailing all our local friends for ideas, and berth at Lunenburg Yacht Club,
Hermans Island. It is very hot and humid.
1 September
NHC Bulletin No.26A: ‘Powerful Hurricane Earl continues moving northwestward’.
Now 125 miles east-northeast of Grand Turk and heading northwest at 14 knots, it
remains Category 4 with central pressure of 940mbs.
On the morning OCC NE USA SSB net we learn that a number of OCC boats in
Penobscot Bay in Maine are getting concerned and heading for Smith’s Cove for shelter.
Via the net we are put in touch with OCC/CCA members John Harries and Phyllis Nickel
aboard Morgan’s Cloud, who are on their mooring less than a mile away from us. We discuss
tactics, and then motor over to Morgan’s Cloud where John and Phyllis kindly offer to
lend us their spare 60lb spade anchor as well as a huge alloy Fortress as backup. John and
Phyllis have decided to remain on their mooring, which is well engineered and has two
17
4000lb boulders as ground tackle. We decide to anchor further down the inlet where
there is plenty of swinging room and reportedly very good holding in thick mud. We stake
our claim, expecting other boats to arrive, remove and bag the two headsails from their
furlers to reduce windage, then go for a swim to cool off. The water temperature is 23∙6°.
2 September
NHC Bulletin No.30A: ‘Large and dangerous Hurricane Earl threatening the US midAtlantic coast’. Now 565 miles southeast of Cape Hatteras, moving north-northwest
at 18 knots with maximum sustained winds of 135 knots, Earl remains Category 4 with
central pressure of 941mbs.
This looks serious! By this time we have established an internet connection piggybacking off someone’s unsecured router ashore, so we are getting up-to-date NHC
bulletins, satellite images and lurid forecast track projections – all quite frightening.
There is no doubt at this stage that Earl will be passing very close to us. We continue
to strip items off the deck to reduce windage, removing the bimini, flags, ensigns and
life rings, and binding up the mainsail on the boom in a large tight sausage. We also
lash the wind generator blades to avoid it self-destructing.
3 September
By 0500 EDT Earl is 85 miles east of Cape Hatteras and heading north-northeast at 18
knots, but the central pressure has risen to 955mbs. It is beginning to fill and weakening
slightly, a trend which is expected to continue over the next 12 to 24 hours, and has
been downgraded to Category 2. It is also expected to pick up speed. It looks like it
will pass west of us up the Bay of Fundy in daylight on Saturday morning.
The mainsail secured
18
50 knots now
At 0730 EDT on the OCC NE SSB Net we learn that seven OCC boats anchored
in Smith’s Cove, Castine, Maine had a mini OCC Rally last night! They are expecting
it to pass tonight, but well offshore so they should get an easy ride.
1500 EDT and Earl is 290 miles southeast of Nantucket, moving north-northeast
at 21 knots but expected to turn to northeast in next 12 to 24 hours. It has dropped
a further notch to Category 1, with maximum sustained winds now down to 80 knots
and central pressure at 961mb. Wind and rain are spreading over Long Island and
southeast New England.
The good news is that it is much weaker than it was, but the bad news is the turn
to the northeast which will bring it much closer to us. It is still incredibly hot and
still, with not a breath of wind and the water surface like a mirror. We go for another
swim and then re-anchor with more swinging room, veering 60m of 10mm chain. We
decide not to use the Fortress and lie to two anchors because of the danger of the cables
becoming entangled when the expected 90° wind veer comes. Luckily, or strangely, no
other boats have come to join us – what are we missing? Where is everyone else going?
4 September
0500 EDT and Earl is 145 miles southeast of Halifax moving northeast at 30 knots,
with maximum sustained winds of 70 knots and central pressure of 965mb. The track
19
The wind starts to veer
projections are now predicting that the centre will come right over us at about midday.
We are expecting the wind to come from the southeast, which unfortunately is the
direction from which we are most exposed with a fetch of about a mile. Once it veers
to the southwest we will be very sheltered, if we are still here! I place anti-chafe gear
on the snubber, put a Blake slip on the chain, and take the chain off the windlass and
secure it to the Sampson post just in case the snubber breaks.
0830: Wind ESE 34 knots, rain started, barometer 994mb, 2ft chop. We learn on the
OCC Net that the guys in Maine had a pretty quiet night – almost a non-event for them.
0915: Barometer plummeting, now 990mb, wind SE 40 knots, continuous rain, 2ft
chop and Al Shaheen is swinging wildly on her chain.
1015: ESE maximum gust 60 knots, 3ft seas.
1100: ESE continuous 55 knots gusting 60, lashing horizontal rain, barometer 978mbs.
We are getting worried now and put both laptops, phones, passports, money, ship’s
papers and log into a sealed plastic kitbag encased in an auto-inflation lifejacket, just
in case we have to swim for it. We are now wearing our own lifejackets.
1130: Maximum gust 69 knots. I think we are beginning to drag.
1200: A sudden lull! The wind veers sharply to south-southwest and drops to 10
knots. The sea is calm and all seems eerily quiet. The barometer reads 968mbs and
is beginning to rise. I confirm that we have dragged about 50m so let out another
10m of chain. Time for lunch.
20
1230: Amazingly calm. We need to re-anchor, but how long have we got? I recover
the anchor and find that we have picked up a large tree branch, so I quickly re-anchor
and veer 50m of chain.
For us that was really the end of the storm. It continued raging above the tree line, but
it was blowing right over the top of us and at sea level it remained very calm. By 1530
the barometer was back up to 990mbs and had reached 1002mbs by 2200.
We were not, in the event, in an ideally sheltered location and we were very fortunate
that the system had decreased almost to a tropical storm by the time it reached us. Had
it remained at Category 4 I doubt if we would have held, particularly with the anchor
fouled by a branch. We later learned from friends that Deep Cove, the alternative
anchorage, although better sheltered had become crowded with boats, many of them
insecurely anchored. Considerable chaos had resulted, with several boats fetching up
onshore. We were very glad not to have been amongst them.
T: 0800 374353
21
www.Tilley.com
22
TIME OUT IN THE BAJA
Graham and Avril Johnson
Roving Rear Commodores
(Graham and Avril left UK shores in 2002 aboard their 44ft sloop Dream Away and have
been frequent contributors ever since. In Flying Fish 2009/2 they reached Mexico’s Baja
peninsula, and by early 2011 were nearly ready to move on...)
The Baja peninsula is the fourth longest in the world, stretching 800 miles southeast
from the US border. It is 65 percent desert, boasting spectacular multicoloured
mountains; huge cacti tower from the slopes, with scrubby bushes and trees clinging
to a rocky terrain of gigantic boulders or scree. Unworldly geological formations lend
the place a unique atmosphere. Between the Baja and mainland Mexico lies the 700
mile long Sea of Cortez whose sheltered waters are wonderfully clear, with deep azures
changing to fabulous bright turquoise over shallows that lap dazzling white sand beaches,
reflecting the endless hours of sunshine the region enjoys. An abundance of stunning,
sheltered anchorages on the peninsula and the many uninhabited islands in the Sea
offer a cruising extravaganza. It is a total contrast from the built-up mainland Pacific
coast of Mexico. Simple fishing villages and a few towns are encountered along the
coast until you arrive at tourist heaven on the southern tip. We bypassed that!
In winter the wind is predominantly northerly – occasionally strong blasts from
Alaska last several days, producing a most unpleasant sea state. In spring and summer
the breezes are predominantly southerly, but beware the katabatic winds once the sun
has set, as well as late summer tropical storms.
Multicoloured landscape
23
We were drawn to the Sea of Cortez because it is biologically the richest body of
water on the planet and the marine life is stunning. From the yacht one can watch in
awe a variety of species of immense whales, see magnificent marlin and spectacular
sailfish soar out of the water or rays performing somersaults. Colonies of sea lions and
seals will splash into the water to play inquisitively around the dinghy, whilst overhead
there is an equally wondrous array of sea birds.
The head of the sea is the Colorado River delta, a shadow of its former self due to
dams. Being shallow with unpredictable currents it offers few attractions to cruising
boats and we only ventured as far north as Willard Bay at the 30° parallel, very sheltered
but rather shallow, necessitating careful anchoring. The bay is ringed by summer holiday
encampments where Americans come in their RVs (Recreational Vehicles, or gigantic
camper vans!) and create disturbance with radios, generators, quad bikes, motor boats
and anything else they have brought along. In March the place was practically deserted.
Avril fancied a trip to the nearby Enchanted Isles so we pottered out at first light.
Suddenly we saw a huge black shape emerge from the depths and blow a great plume of
spray, shortly followed by two more leviathans. We were close to a group of fin whales,
awesome creatures gently swimming around and surfacing regularly. We stopped,
drifted and watched. As a side-show, a lonesome sea lion was desperately seeking our
attention. She would bark, leap out of the water performing acrobatic twists in the air
and land with a great splash. Head-standing in the water with her tail sticking into
Este Ton, a special niche
24
Bulletproof base at Don Juan
the air she elegantly corkscrewed around before gliding up to check we were watching.
Eventually we pressed on to the nearest island, an extinct volcano with half its side
blown out allowing you to sail into the middle of the crater, a spectacular sight with
vertical slopes towering up out of the sea. Nearby was a small pumice islet spawning
remarkable floating rocks.
About 90 miles further south is the spectacular Bahía de Los Angeles, where we
loosely based ourselves for a couple of months to cruise the area above the Midriff
Islands. Don Juan, on the southern entrance to the bay, is a superbly sheltered
anchorage. An extinct volcano forms a backdrop and provides a vantage point for
fabulous views over the bay, which is littered with islands sheltering a myriad of
anchorages but also sports a noteworthy number of unpleasant-looking reefs. There
is little human impact apart from the occasional fisherman’s camp, the only signs of
population resulting from one of the very few roads or tracks leading down to the shore
from the main highway. These provide access to a few tiny villages, which these days
are usually overrun by RVs. However their presence is so sporadic that it does not
really intrude on the remote splendour and isolation of the area.
There was a fine array of wildlife to entertain us. Pelicans crashed down into the
water, surfacing with a lot of flapping and splashing; gulls, terns and even boobies
made a more elegant job of it. Tall grey herons stood motionless on the water’s edge
amidst many waders, oystercatchers and small ducks. Ospreys hovered in the sky before
plunging down upon some poor unsuspecting fish and carrying them away in their
talons. We could hear the crack of shellfish landing on the rocks after being dropped
25
Proud
pelican
parents
on Isla
Angel
de la
Guarda
from the sky by the gulls, which then swooped down to guzzle up the delicacy. In the
early evening coyote patrolled the water’s edge looking for crabs or other morsels. On
the hills we sighted many caracara, a large black-and-white scavenging falcon, gliding
around on the thermals and, in contrast, tiny hummingbirds feeding on the nectar
from the few small blooms on the sparse desert vegetation. There was the inevitable
array of lizards and snakes, and Avril had read about mountain lions so we were not
allowed too close to the caves.
Our RIB transported us to a ramshackle holiday village about seven miles across
the bay. It was a strange collection of shacks and single storey breeze-block holiday
apartments strung out along the white sandy seashore. Out of season it was virtually
deserted. A short, crumbling jetty had a couple of large, open, grey craft alongside,
each sporting four immense outboards, all guarded by a short, chubby chap in full
camouflage fatigues dwarfed by an immense automatic weapon. This outpost of the
Mexican Navy forms part of the drug interdiction force, funded by the US to the tune
of several billion dollars. Over the past few years the Mexican government has waged a
determined war against the drug cartels, and what was a ragtag force has now become
a heavily-armed and serious militia. As we approached we waved. Our sentry ambled
down the beach, whereupon we enlisted his assistance in hauling the RIB up the sand.
He asked us where we had come from and wanted to chat. Eventually we wrote a few
details down on a scrap of paper for him before heading off to the village, leaving him
26
guarding our RIB. We found one reasonable supermarket, a few smaller stores operating
on the various holiday sites and very little else, not even a garage to buy fuel.
The seaward side of the bay is sheltered by Isla Angel de la Guarda (Guardian Angel),
a thin, 40 mile long island separated from the peninsula by the narrow Ballena (Whale)
Channel. At its northerly tip several spectacular, remote anchorages afford good shelter
whilst numerous small bays and islets await exploration. The channel currents are strong
and the winds fickle, so it was a good day’s work to sail Dream Away into a large bay at
the north end of the island, well sheltered from westerly or southerly winds but with
an alternative anchorage nearby if the wind moved into the north. The island is an
uninhabited, arid, mountainous place, and is a national park and designated biosphere
reserve with a large pelican breeding colony. Avril, having managed to evade the
mountain lions, now had sixteen different species of snake to worry about.
Our usual exploring transport is a small, elderly Avon inflatable with a tiny
outboard, that we can carry up beaches. Returning to Dream Away following a day’s
expedition we were intercepted by one of the large grey navy boats seen previously
moored in Bahía de Los Angeles. Our friendly RIB guard was aboard, so it was smiles
and greetings all round. Finding Dream Away locked up, the RIB lashed on the deck
and the outboard on its bracket they had been concerned, but were now pleased to
find us alive and well. They were camping in the next bay and departed saying that
if we wanted anything we only had to call. We didn’t think the offer encompassed
fetching some more beers, so left that alone.
The Pond (Isla Estanque)
27
What would YOU trade for this?
We were attracted to a tiny island joined to the eastern side of our big island by a
reef. It is called ‘The Pond’ as its centre is such, accessed by a very narrow and shallow
channel. Arriving a couple of hours after low water we gently eased our way in, with
Graham on the bow piloting us through only yards from the reef in the entrance. It
is a wonderfully isolated place, totally safe from all wind directions and providing
memorable views of the colourful peaks of the main island. We were protected by
small red hills with towering cacti and a long, high shingle bank upon which was built
a rude fisherman’s camp. Three chaps came across to trade for bread, tortillas and soft
drinks in exchange for a monster lobster, so for half of one of Avril’s big home-baked
loaves and a 2 litre bottle of Sprite we became proud owners of the giant crustacean.
Overall, trading was good in the Baja – usually for beers, sodas or anything sweet we
gained enormous clams, scallops, bucketfuls of smaller clams, sections of giant squid
and a great variety of fish – yellowtail was our favourite.
It was time to move on, so a final restock at the village store in the bay left us pleased
and surprised to find masses of fresh vegetables, and even more delighted when we
were given two packs of beer as a present for being such good customers.
28
Whilst we were packing our goodies aboard Dream Away a contingent of Mexico’s
finest came alongside. It was time for our drugs bust and the leader enquired if he
could be permitted aboard. Having met several times we welcomed him, provided he
left his gun behind, which he duly did before settling into our cockpit and politely
asking if their retriever could come aboard. The most gorgeous golden puppy with
large soulful eyes was handed over and led around the deck. No problems there! Then
came the time to go below, clearly not on the doggy agenda as it had to be thrust down
by the scruff of its the neck, whereupon it moped about forlornly at the bottom of
the companion way. Worse was to come, as the handler wanted the poor mite to visit
the aft cabin, necessitating a passage past the engine room. This corridor forms the
battleground between Graham and the various mechanical monsters lurking within.
A diesel hose had split, acidic watermaker cleaners had been utilised, resins, solvents
and various unpleasant aerosols had all combined into an odious toxic chemical
cocktail guaranteed to obliterate any semblance of canine olfactory discrimination.
The poor hound fled back to the cockpit where it lay wide eyed, gasping for breath.
The handler retired
back to the Mexican
craft clutching his
distraught charge
and the leader soon
followed, having
declared us free of
contraband.
Approximately 130
miles further south,
the small artificial port
of Santa Rosalía is an
immensely attractive
little township of
wooden buildings
constructed by the
French when they
managed the copper
mines in the early
20th century. The
mining enterprise has
long since finished
but many of the old
mining buildings and
ancient steam engines
still litter the place.
The drugs bust
29
The church is a prefabricated metal structure designed by Eiffel. Another relic is
the original French bakery, still producing delicious baguettes. We anchored off a
small pontoon run by the local sailing club, tying our dinghy to their dock and quickly
making friends with the small cruising community and local club members. It was a
good place to restock from the several little supermarkets distributed around the town.
The harbour has a new government marina, part of the chain being developed along
the Baja, its refuelling facilities handy with the often very light winds.
We had great hopes for Bahía Concepción, a long inland bay running parallel
to the coastline 30 miles south of Santa Rosalía. It is a marine nature reserve with
crystal clear waters, where commercial fishing is banned. There are many delightful
coves which together offer shelter from any wind direction and clearly it was once a
lovely place, but sadly its shoreline is adjacent to the main peninsula highway. Not
only endless traffic but enclaves of holiday homes and huge RV parks fringe every bay.
However the delightful little township of Mulegé lies on the coast just north of the
bay’s entrance, alongside the estuary of the only freshwater river in the region. It is an
oasis in the barren desert, with abundant palm trees and colourful plants and shrubs.
Eiffel’s church at Santa Rosalía
30
We had an enjoyable time in the town, which is one of the original Baja settlements
and has changed little over the last century.
Puerto Escondido is possibly the most protected anchorage on the peninsula,
comprising a large lake with a narrow, convoluted, sea entrance. We day-sailed
down the coast towards it, finding peaceful sheltered anchorages for overnight stops.
Formerly Escondido was scheduled as a major development and the base for a fleet
of Moorings charter yachts. There is an extensive area with roadways and basins
clearly intended for housing with adjacent moorings – but there are no houses or
apartments and, despite the huge amount of money spent on the infrastructure, the
place has an eerie, neglected atmosphere. The site has been taken over by ‘Singlar’,
the Mexican government marina operation. Moorings have been laid in the lake,
and a standard set of marina buildings are in place alongside a dry storage area and a
substantial travel lift. This is the package at the heart of every government marina
and it works very well, with good showers, laundry, small store and numerous small
rentable units for local enterprises providing services.
The nearest large town is Loreto, the first settlement and once capital of the region.
It has had a turbulent history and its latest foray into tourism has not been a great
success. It suffers from unpredictable and often chilly winters, balanced by summers
that are intolerably hot, and the recent economic downturn has closed many businesses.
Nevertheless the sport-fishing is world class, the whales still arrive on schedule, and water
sports in the sheltered bays are well managed, so there is still hope. Common to all the
marinas along this coast is a population of Americans who keep their boats there and arrive
by car or RV to enjoy the winter sun, so no problem getting a lift into town to shop. The
mountain spine comes close to the coast, and a large canyon made famous by Steinbeck
was adjacent and an obvious expedition. As we worked our way up the gorge it became
a trial of clambering over enormous boulders brought down by the torrential summer
tropical storms,
until reaching
a rock-face that
required more kit
to negotiate than
we were carrying.
However the
scenery was
immense, and
we can now add
rattlesnake to
the creatures
that we have
encountered on
our travels.
Riverbed hike
31
Crowded anchorage, Agua Verde
The harbour had served us well, and having restocked we set forth to explore more
of the islands and coastline on our way to La Paz. A few miles opposite the entrance
to Escondido lies the small island of Danzante, with an enchanting anchorage known
as Honeymoon Cove tucked away in a tiny corner of a larger bay harbouring several
other inviting anchorages. It was a truly beautiful spot, but unfortunately full of kayakers
and their tents so we moved on and ended up in Agua Verde, a picture-perfect bay
on the mainland. Not only is this a gorgeous, unspoilt anchorage but nearby there
is a small Mexican village where the folk are welcoming and a couple of small shops
provide for basic needs. Best of all, there is some of the finest walking and hiking we
found anywhere in this region.
Graham’s birthday was approaching and we considered returning to San Evaristo
Bay, our first anchorage on the peninsula and the venue for Avril’s birthday (see Baja
Bound, Flying Fish 2009/2). However with so many options we decided on a bay on the
island of San José – a great success, with super shelter from the strong northerlies and
an interesting birthday peak trek along the summits surrounding the bay, returning via
a ‘forest’ of cacti and prickly bushes so dense that our route was very wobbly, sometimes
on hands and knees. It is a large island, and like everywhere in the region the terrain
is mostly loose rock of various sizes with steep slopes that make for difficult excursions.
Naturally we had to call back into San Evaristo. Often going back to a place is a
disappointment, but not so in this instance. We enjoyed walking across to the saltpans,
the mainstay of the economy, loading lovely sweet water from the desalination plant,
and stocking up with fresh goods and beers from the single shop. A new bar is under
32
Antelope squirrel on home ground
construction along the foreshore, an initiative
which we inevitably had to support following a
hike into the hills accompanied by the barman’s
dog – which had clearly been detailed to guide
us back to the bar.
It was then a simple case of selecting which
island anchorages to visit on our way to La Paz.
We stopped in three – all attractive with good
shelter, crystal-clear water, lovely sandy bottom
and at least one good walk. We saw a tiny snake,
as well as several antelope squirrels which could be
mistaken by the uninitiated for small chipmunks.
It was getting more crowded, with several boats
in the bays and serious numbers of large power
boats speeding in from La Paz for the weekends.
Attractive as the islands are, we had experienced more exotic locations and decided
that our remaining time in Mexico would be best spent preparing for the Pacific, so
we headed into La Paz. The city lies in a gulf which extends for several miles down
the inside of the peninsula, with a narrow but well-buoyed channel into the main
anchorage and marinas. The currents run strongly, so we anchored for lunch adjacent
to an exclusive hotel and marina complex while awaiting a favourable tide. Our radio
announced the opening of the new ‘Gary Player’ certified golf course – just what you
need in a drought region.
La Paz boasts several well-stocked chandlers, workshops that can supply or fix most
yacht requirements, several huge supermarkets and numerous other stores. It’s been
a good place to prepare for the Pacific, so it’s farewell to Mexico and the beautiful
Baja as we head on towards the Marquesas.
Mystical mountains
33
PICKING UP WIFI BEYOND ITS USUAL
RANGE
Harald Sammer
(Between 2004 and 2008 Austrian member Harald Sammer and his wife Beate
circumnavigated aboard their Najad 49 Taniwani, and since then have spent time in Iberian
waters and around the Atlantic islands.
This article was written in response to a request from your Editor, after Harald mentioned
helping a fellow cruiser who was having trouble with wifi reception in the Azores.)
Like many of you I’m glad to have no internet connection for days in a row when
sailing. In fact, after a life with computers and always connected, I cherish the feeling
of being disconnected at least during passage making. Winlink Airmail, slow as it may
be, is quite good enough to connect to a few friends and to download the relevant
weather forecasts and grib files. But eventually, when in harbour, connecting seriously
to the internet becomes almost inevitable, if only to find some important information,
do some banking, or talk via Skype to those at home. A decent and fast connection
then becomes a necessity.
The options then are broadband cellphone (mobile phone) connection or wifi. While
pre-paid data packages on the cellular networks are getting more and more attractive,
it still requires at least a SIM card per country and, if tied to a dedicated USB stick,
that in addition. If you spend much time in one country this is the best option in
my opinion, as it is really long range and works up to a few miles offshore (though
broadband data connections stop working long before you lose voice connection). If
you are sailing from place to place and country to country, however, researching the
best cellular data deal in a new place and then using it for only a week or two may not
be very practical. You usually need to revert to other means, and apart from internet
cafés and libraries this will be wifi.
Many marinas offer wifi and so do many providers, some as a paid-for service via ad
hoc credit card payment, but many for free. Choice is important, and choice means
you need to be able to pick up a number of wifi signals from where you are moored
or anchored. Down in the cabin near the waterline it will be a few or none, up in
the cockpit it is usually better and a bit up the mast much better. But sitting on the
boom in the bright sunlight or even rain may not be the optimal position to do your
research or banking.
It is obviously better to put the antenna somewhere up there and use your computer(s)
below deck, but a long antenna cable has a lot of loss, which you may offset in part by
a better antenna. The better answer is to place the receiver/transmitter next to the
antenna and run a data connection to the computer. There is the option of doing the
latter via Ethernet, but more practical is USB and that is what I will describe here.
A better antenna – better than the one built into your laptop, that is – makes
34
sense, and waterproofing the whole thing is a good idea so that you can happily work
during rain showers. Standard wifi routers and adapters use fairly low gain antennae,
and in Europe power is legally limited to 100mW transmitted from the antenna, so in
theory a better antenna makes most adapters illegal. In densely populated areas this
limitation is essential in order to reduce interference with other wifi systems, but out
in an anchorage the damage you may do with a stronger signal is very minimal, and
hence a better antenna can only be a good thing. It will improve both your received
and your transmitted signal. Regulations regarding both frequency and power vary
slightly from country to country, but the latter is restricted to 100mW or even lower
almost everywhere. As I understand it, however, in most places it is okay to buy and
own the equipment – you are just not allowed to use it – though I have yet to hear
about any enforcement of these regulations.
The biggest antenna gain can be achieved with a directional antenna (such as a
Yagi), but this will not work in most anchorages as the boat will move and you will keep
loosing the signal. I have tried a mildly directional antenna (-3dB at +/- 30°) and even
that dropped out often enough. So the clear recommendation is an omnidirectional
antenna, unless in a marina or a tidal anchorage where you can turn the antenna
every six hours. If you want a ‘rain-proof’ set, note that thin antennae do not work
well when wet. Outdoor antennae are almost an inch thick and keep the wet surface
at a distance from the actual antenna inside.
USB wifi adapters can be connected with up to 5m of USB cable, which is usually
enough to lead out of the cabin, through a hatch and up to at least the boom level.
For longer distances you will need a USB repeater in the middle of the stretch, which
would also have to be protected from the elements.
Choosing a good USB wifi adapter is the next important step. Not only does it
need an external antenna connector, but it is also a good thing to have more transmit
power than is officially allowed. While one could argue that, so long as you can
receive the hotspot signal the hotspot should also receive your signal, the reality
however is that you have to compete with other client signals that are much closer
to the hotspot. With strong signals in the vicinity, the hotspot receiver will reduce
gain and will not be able to pick out your requests. The result is that you can see the
hotspot but you cannot connect.
The good news is that there are more powerful adapters on the market, and although
they cannot be sold officially in Europe you can generally find them on ebay or at online
shops in Asia. One place to check is www.dealextreme.com. They have great prices and
ship to Europe without charge. It may take up to two weeks but it always seems to work.
Hardware
You will need one of these powerful adapters, a high gain omnidirectional antenna,
antenna connectors, a 5m USB cable, and a watertight box to house the adapter and
to mount the antenna. The total hardware should cost no more than €50 or so. Friends
found a place in Trinidad that sells a similar rig already assembled at about $150, so if
you don’t feel like building this yourself a quick dash to Trinidad may be the answer.
35
Back to DIY: when choosing a box, make sure you have enough space inside not
only to fit the adapter circuit board but also the proper connectors to connect antenna
and adapter. Most adapters use an antenna connector called a RP-SMA or reverse
SMA. At first this was thought to prevent the fitting of higher gain antennae and
was only seen on wifi adapters and routers. Nowadays, however, you can get adapter
plugs from anything to anything. Even so, it may save some space if you unsolder the
connector from the edge of the circuit board and either solder a piece of coaxial cable
or the antenna connector directly to it. Good outdoor antennae, on the other hand,
often come with N-type connectors which are much bigger. Joining the two without
a short intermediate cable is tricky, but doable.
Now to some vendors and equipment, inasmuch as I have explored or tried them.
The most popular adapter favoured by so-called ‘wardrivers’ (people who make a sport
of breaking into WLAN routers), is the ALFA-AWUS036H, widely available for less
than €20. It can transmit at about 10 times the legal level and transmit power can be
controlled by the driver software. It is built around the Realtek RTL8187L chip, which
is also used by other vendors who offer almost identical adapters. These are typically
802.11 b/g adapters capable of transmitting with up to 1W (30dBm).
I have used the ALFA-AWUS036H and a similar,
unnamed product and found no difference. Both come
in little plastic packages with a mini-USB connector
on one end and the RP-SMA antenna on the other,
and all include a small 5dB antenna. I have taken the
little printed circuit board out of the small package and
fitted it in a larger waterproof box, with a long USB
cable glued in and a good outdoor antenna fitted to the
box. If you are not worried about rain you can try it as
it comes out of the box with its 5dB antenna – in fact
it works rather well that way. You might want to put it
into a plastic bag for a little bit of protection.
An alternative may be the ALFA-AWUS036NH
(note the N), which includes the newer 802.11n
standard and claims up to 2W transmit power. Rumour
is that it is less good with 802.11 b and g type networks, An ALFA-AWUS036H
which is what one mostly sees at public hotspots. It is
adapter
also based on a different chip, apparently a rip-off from
Realtek made in Taiwan by Ralink (RL3070). It needs different drivers and I have
not tried these, so cannot really tell how well they work. Again there are a few fairly
similar adapters on the market, all using the RL3070 and usually recognised by the
fact that they support 802.11n.
For Macintosh users like me it may be better to use one of the new RL3070based adapters, as the drivers for the classic ALFA-AWUS036H with Realtek
36
RTL8187L are old and difficult to install on newer versions of Mac OSX. For the
new RL3070-based units there are completely new drivers for Mac OSX available
which are said to work better.
This is the antenna which I use. It is an outdoor type, and has a gain of 8dB as against
the 5dB antenna which comes with the ALFA-AWUS036H as standard.
It is omnidirectional in the horizontal plane, meaning that as long as it is standing
upright it will receive (and transmit) equally well from all directions around itself,
but not from above and below. You may tilt it up to 15° before experiencing a
serious degradation.
The three extra dBs can give you twice the distance to the hotspot. As an example,
we have sailed along the Algarve coast from Portimao to Albufeira about two miles
off and had a connection via one of the resort chains almost all the time. There is
also a 13dB model, which is twice as long and less tolerant to tilt, but otherwise it
looks the same.
Note: There is also an older version of the ALFA-AWUS036H on the market, which
has only 500mW output power versus the 1000mW of the newer model. From outside
it is hard to tell the difference between the two, but once you open the housing it
is easy – the older printed circuit board is green, the newer is blue and the sealed
HF-part is bigger on the new one.
500mW and
1000mW
versions of
the ALFAAWUS036H
37
Software
The ALFA-AWUS036H comes with a little CD containing the drivers for Windows,
which I was able to install without problems on XP and Windows 7. They include
a utility that allows one to look for networks, see the signal levels, security type,
channel, sysid and so on. You can pick one and connect, or create a profile for
automatic connection. The utility also allows you to set the transmit power level,
which by default is set to 75%.
As I’m now using mostly Macs, I run Windows XP in virtual machines in Parallels or
Fusion (both have their pros and cons), and use the virtual machines to run programs
like MaxSea and Airmail. With respect to wifi, I have tried the ALFA-AWUS036H
on both the virtual Windows machine and directly on the Mac. Both variants work,
but the utility for Windows gives more choices, and setting the transmit power is only
possible with the Windows-based utility. When running on Windows, it is still possible
to bridge it back to the Mac, something I have only tried with Fusion but which should
work with Parallels too. The OSX drivers that I found at Realtek seem not to recover
from sleep mode, and require a user logoff / logon after that to resume working.
Regardless of running the ALFA-AWUS036H on the Windows or Mac side, on the
Mac it is easy to share the connection over the built-in wifi adapter (Airport), and
thus the Mac becomes an access point for other computers in the boat.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Finally a few generic thoughts on using free wifi. While there are tools like Kismac
available to trace and crack wifi security, I consider that only unencrypted open
hotspots are fair to ‘help yourself’. These may be hotspots provided by tourist boards,
communities, marinas, or providers where you can pay for access, and there may be
the odd private person who may not care or not know better. You ‘see’ all these from
your anchorage, and you may also see the secure connection of a pub which gave you a
key when you were there for a beer or two. With this rig you will still be able to reach
it and use it, but don’t forget to have another beer there next day.
As most of the connections you will use this way are not encrypted, you may also
want to think about how you use them. Many tasks remain safe because they are
encrypted, and nobody can really listen to your Skype conversations or eavesdrop on
your online banking which most certainly uses https. But remember that many other
things, like e-mail, are often clear.
The use of a VPN (see Note 1) is therefore highly recommended, as it not only
makes sure that all your internet traffic is encrypted, but you also appear as a user
from the country where the VPN service is located and not as one from wherever
you currently are. It may allow you, for example, to load movies in the States which
you cannot access from elsewhere, but it will also hide your address and make you
untraceable. I have also noticed that the DNS (see Note 2) service often doesn’t
work perfectly in foreign places, and as a result you sometimes cannot reach some
of the sites at home. The VPN also solves this problem, as the lookup happens in
38
the country of the VPN service. I use ‘Hideway’ in Austria (very recommendable at
€15 for 20GB and two years) and ‘AlwaysVPN’ in the US. Both are based on the
excellent ‘openvpn’ standard.
Remember though, that while the VPN protects your internet traffic, it does not
protect your computer. Firewalls of private hotspots and probably those of small pubs
are configured to allow pretty well any traffic between its clients on the local subnet.
Consequently, other computers that connect to the same hotspot are seen as fairly
trustworthy. Add to this that your computer’s firewall is usually set up equally tolerantly,
in order to allow sharing with other computers at home or on your network in the
boat. Thinking negatively, somebody could set up an open and free hotspot with the
sole purpose of intruding into other computers which use the service.
The best thing, therefore, is not to allow any sharing or other services on your
computer to be accessed even from the ‘local’ network. Professional wifi hotspots put
their clients on separate subnets, and in this way effectively eliminate such cross-talk.
As a rule of thumb you can tell by the IP address you are assigned when connecting.
If it starts with 10. ... you are most likely safe – if it starts with 192.168... or 172.31...
then you are probably sharing a subnet with others.
Note 1 – VPN (virtual private network)
A private network is usually a network which is based on internet technology but
is physically separated from the internet. Such a network is often referred to as an
intranet, and is a typical feature of larger corporations.
The VPN is, as the name suggests, a virtual extension of such an intranet, using the
public internet just as a raw link, providing a point-to-point connection. VPNs were
originally created to connect remote members or employees of a private organisation,
using the internet much like a dial-up direct connection. In order to assure privacy,
data across the link are encrypted. In our case, however, the link is not established
to the network of a private corporation but rather to a gateway which puts you back
onto the internet. One effect is that the link from your computer to the gateway
is protected from end to end, a protection which automatically includes the unsafe
part via the wifi link.
Another effect is that, from the perspective of the internet, your computer appears
to be located where the gateway resides and not where you happen to be. As the
gateway picks from a random pool of addresses, you become entirely anonymous if
the gateway provider does not keep a log of who was associated with a particular
address at a given time. In some countries the keeping of a log is required by law,
but in some it is not and VPN-gateway providers usually choose countries where
logging is not required.
A third effect is that a VPN can be used to circumvent blocking of websites. Websites
blocked in some countries may not be blocked in others, so while you may not be
able to access site X directly from where you happen to be, your gateway, located in
a civilised and liberal place, will probably be able to. For this reason the use of VPNs
is forbidden in a few countries, though foreigners are generally allowed to use them.
39
Note 2 – DNS (domain name system)
Think of DNS as an automatic phone book. The analogy would be a phone from
which you call people by name and address instead of by number. It will find the
person you want to call, whether on his mobile or at home or ... it would not matter
to you. On the internet all this works automatically. When you want to access, say
www.oceancruisingclub.org, your computer will automatically ask a directory service
for the number and will get back 89.187.75.218. This number is called an IP-address
and, much like a telephone number, includes a country code and area code, so contains
information as to where to route your data.
There are many directory servers and they need to be kept up to date, which happens
automatically but does take some time. And so it happens, typically after restarts,
that some of the less important entries (from the perspective of the country you are
in at the time) get loaded last – in which case you might not be able to access www.
oceancruisingclub.org for some time. In some countries the authorities may choose
never to load some foreign entries, in order to block their own citizens from accessing
them, but when you are connected via VPN to a civilised place the directory lookup
will also happen there and you are back to full access.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Editor’s note: A knowledgeable member has pointed out that various out-of-the box
solutions are available for those who don’t wish to take the DIY route, including that
from ‘5milewifi’ at http://www.5milewifi.com/. However this may not be as effective
as Harald’s solution, and is likely to prove eight to ten times more expensive.
Handling a small yacht in a big, steep sea is a grand experience
not easily forgotten, especially if it be attempted on a pitch-dark
night, with a little too much canvas aloft for comfort, too big a
sea to allow you to take your eyes off each phosphorescent crest
as it comes crashing towards you, and with a dangerous shoal
somewhere to leeward. Under these conditions you generally
wish to goodness you hadn’t come and begin to wonder exactly
how long the boat will stand such a terrible pounding ...
Maurice Griffiths, Sailing on a Small Income
40
John Rodriguez
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41
Port Louis Marina – another
great reason to visit Grenada
Grenada remains one of the most unspoilt
and welcoming cruising destinations in
the Caribbean.
And Grenada’s southern location makes
it a great base for the hurricane season,
and allows for year-round cruising.
At Port Louis Marina, visiting yachts can
enjoy the security and convenience of
a beautifully appointed marina, located
in the lagoon adjacent to the island’s
capital, St. George’s.
It’s just one more reason to pay the
‘Spice Island’ a visit.
UÊ *œÀÌʜvʘÌÀÞ
UÊ 7
Ê >ÌiÀ]ÊiiVÌÀˆVˆÌÞ]ÊvÕiÊ>˜`ÊvÀiiÊ
broadband internet
With an international airport just five
miles away, Port Louis is the ideal base
for exploring the wonderful islands of
the Grenadines.
UÊ Ó{ʅœÕÀÊÃiVÕÀˆÌÞ
UÊ >Տ‡œÕÌÊ>˜`ÊÌiV…˜ˆV>Êv>VˆˆÌˆiÃʘi>ÀLÞ
UÊ ˆÛiʓˆiÃÊvÀœ“Ê̅iʈ˜ÌiÀ˜>̈œ˜>Ê>ˆÀ«œÀÌ
www.cnmarinas.com/plm
/9Ê NÊ /Ê NÊ /1,9Ê NÊ WEST INDIES
42
ARRIVAL IN AUSTRALIA
David and Linda Friesen
(David and Linda left Victoria, Canada in August 2006 aboard their 42ft steel cutter Toketie,
and have crossed the Pacific via Tonga, Fiji and New Zealand.)
It is always the people! The cruising lifestyle comes with many rewards and many
challenges, but wherever we go and whatever befalls us, it is always the people we
meet that make the difference between good experiences and those which hindsight
tells us should have been avoided.
Australia was no different. We arrived from New Caledonia in November 2010 after
a boisterous downwind passage with fair-sized seas and a steady 35 knots of wind – all
from astern, fortunately. Toketie loves this kind of sailing and we made good time in
relative comfort. We chose Bundaberg as our port of arrival as it offers the shortest
and most direct route from the islands and is located on the southernmost edge of the
cyclone zone. Our plan was to leave Toketie on fore-and-aft-moorings up the Burnett
River while we travelled both inland and out of the country, returning in April 2011
to cruise north inside the Great Barrier Reef.
We had been forewarned that we were in an intense La Niña year. This phenomenon,
caused by currents off the coast of South America, was projected to increase rainfall
and cyclone activity in the southwestern Pacific. Little did we know what was in
store for us...
First, some facts about clearing into Australia by yacht. We had heard plenty of stories
about how poorly yachties were treated on arrival in the country. Visas are required in
advance and, thanks to a tip from fellow OCC members Beth and Bone Bushnell of Splinters
Apprentice, while in Suva, Fiji we applied for and were granted rare four-year multiple
entry visas. They cost the equivalent of about $180 Cdn for both of us. The multiple
entry aspect
meant that
although the
boat could
stay in the
country, we
had to leave
within six
Toketie
in Mexico
before our
Pacific
crossing
43
months of arrival and on returning would have another six months, so our plan to
leave the boat and travel, returning for the cruising season, seemed reasonable. By the
time we reached Australia one of the four years had already expired, however, as they
start the clock when you apply, which made little sense to us.
On arrival in Bundaberg – being careful not to arrive on a weekend or public holiday
which would incur double costs for clearing in – we anchored off the Bundaberg Port
Marina’s quarantine dock, located near the mouth of the Burnett River. It was early
morning and we waited until 0800 to contact the marina and notify customs that
we had arrived. Within hours we were asked to proceed to the quarantine dock for
clearance. The customs inspection was thorough but reasonable, with considerable
emphasis on whether we had any intention of selling our boat while in Australia. (If
you want to sell a foreign boat, 10% tax and 5% duty has to be paid up front prior to
listing the vessel for sale.)
In addition to customs we were visited by a quarantine officer. Again the official was
very thorough and inspected the contents of cupboards and refrigerators, but we were
prepared and, having consulted the list on their website, had placed all fresh produce,
meat, and other taboo items into a bag ready for removal. At this point the young
official looked around and commented that there was a considerable amount of wood
in the interior of Toketie. He then called out to his boss on the boat across the finger
and asked for direction. Her response, without even examining our boat, was that he
should fill out more forms and ‘alert Brisbane’ that we were high risk for termites!
Toketie is a steel boat and, though we have wood in the interior, if we had any pests on
board we would certainly be aware of it. There was no stopping the pointedly efficient
process of the quarantine officials, however, and we were forthwith deemed to be a
Strong winds in the Pacific
44
Toketie underway
high risk for termites. The very idea became even more ludicrous the longer we were
in Australia, which has to be the most bug infested place we have ever visited. We
can certainly understand their not wanting any more bugs brought in, but to suggest
that our little floating home was somehow a threat to their economy seemed out of
proportion to say the least. To add injury to insult, we were asked to pay $330 Aus to
cover the cost of the quarantine inspection process. If it took more than an hour, we
were told it would be an additional $45 Aus per hour.
Finally, with the threat of ‘alerting Brisbane’ to our possible termite infestation,
we may be contacted by them in the future to have an expensive termite inspection
performed, involving a specially trained dog that would be brought down from
Brisbane – all at our expense, of course. If this inspection were to determine that
we actually had termites on board we would then face haul-out fees, storage in a
special quarantine area, shrink wrapping the boat and some kind of highly poisonous
45
extermination process – again at our expense. I began to wonder what the chances
were of acquiring these termites, or any other pests, while in Australia and prior to
the inspection. It seems, however, that they are searching for a special kind of dry
wood termite – it must be one very clever dog to know the difference!
Having cleared customs and quarantine we were officially welcomed to Australia.
Having pre-arranged to take moorings up the river in the town basin, we decided
to anchor overnight and proceed on the morning tide. Just as we were settling into
our second glass of celebratory wine and looking forward to the sunset, the marina
contacted us by VHF to say we could not remain anchored near the marina and must
go back out to the mouth of the river or further upstream. Welcome to Australia! So
we hauled anchor and proceeded the six miles or so up the river to re-anchor near the
basin, with the intention of moving to our moorings in the morning.
Yes, the cruising life can certainly be interesting, but although the officials in
Australia are somewhat over zealous with the rules and regulations, and of all the
countries that
we’ve visited
it is by far the
most expensive
to clear into by
yacht, we were
still optimistic.
But nature was
to intervene, and
after a month
of decadent life
in the heart of
Bundaberg, the
rivers to the
south began to
overflow their
banks and we
looked nervously
upstream to
where three
large dams were
full to capacity
and overflowing.
No-one seemed
David Friesen
tries his hand
at bocheball
46
Fred and Lesley
Grimminck, OCC
Port Officers for
Bundaberg
to know how high the water would go and we could not get anyone to tell us how
serious it was. So with the marina downtown underwater, our mooring lines fastened 2m
below the rapidly rising murky waters, and more and more debris coming downstream,
we decided to run for the mouth of the river where we were told it we would be safe.*
Now to get back to the people! Fellow OCC members Derek and Anthea, aboard
Sukanuk, had reminded us that there were OCC Port Officers in Bundaberg. So no
sooner were we settled in and enjoying the luxuries of air-conditioned malls and grocery
stores with our wifi connected, than we made contact with Fred and Lesley Grimminck.
Having sailed round the world in the 1970s, raised kids on board and now settled in
Australia, they are seasoned sailors with all the charm and humility that the lifestyle
can bestow, and we soon felt that we had known them for years. After receiving help
with repairing our wind instruments, enjoying a fish and chip night to meet a local
group of cruisers, most of them circumnavigators, and the inevitable sun-downers and
barbecues, we soon felt part of the community and on 26 January celebrated a low-key
Australia Day on the beach with a dozen other couples.
A few days later we were invited to attend a meeting of the Bundaberg Cruising
Yacht Club – http://www.bcyc.net.au/ – organisers of the famous Port2Port Yacht Rally
which has been welcoming cruising yachts to Bundaberg for many years. The meeting
was to focus on the impact of the flooding on boats coming to Australia in general
and to Bundaberg in particular. The severity of this flood is not to be underestimated,
and with billions of dollars in projected recovery costs and international headlines
proclaiming lives lost and property damage, it was obviously going to give people
cause to reconsider any plans they might have had for sailing to Australia. This little
* See Flood!, also in this issue, for David’s dramatic account of the worst floods in that
part of Australia for more than a century.
47
Australia Day
club, however, has a very big heart and is proposing to offset the high cost of clearing
into the country with their own funds and any other resources they can get from
local government and business. The object is to encourage people to continue using
Bundaberg as a point of entry by covering the quarantine costs of those participating
in the Port2Port activities, as well as offering discounts with local marine trades and
organising social activities. They also hope to raise awareness with local government
about the perceived unfairness of these fees and how it puts Australia in a difficult
position when it comes to attracting cruising yachts. A lesson can be learned from
New Zealand, which is very pro-active about bringing yachts in to spend time and
money in the country.
So if I have a message for anyone contemplating a landfall in Australia, it would be
not to rule it out too quickly. In addition to the world class cruising, both in Tasmania
for the more adventuresome and the Great Barrier Reef or Darwin as a stepping stone
to the Indonesia Rally, it is the people of Australia who make this a
special place. You can be sure that if you land in Bundaberg and
look up OCC Port Officers Fred and Lesley, you will be plugged
into the heart of the sailing community and be made very welcome.
48
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50
EXPLORING THE IONIAN ISLANDS
David Fry
At last we are back on the water, and enjoying rediscovering the Mediterranean. My
wife, Monique, and I first got a taste of life afloat when we gave up our jobs in early
2002 and spent the next 15 months living aboard. I had been sailing for many years,
but my longest cruises had been numerous return trips from the Solent to the Channel
Islands, and Monique had started much later. We met several delightful (but single)
people in our early travels who had done the same as us but had divorced after crossing
Biscay, so looking back we count ourselves lucky that we loved it from the moment
we left Falmouth in April 2002. We enjoyed six months in the Mediterranean, then
crossed the Atlantic and spent a further six months in the southern Caribbean. We
had to sell that boat when we returned to the UK, and joined the OCC so that we could
keep in touch by reading the tales of others. So it is very good finally to be afloat again
in our new boat, a 1996 Island Packet 40 called Magic Wednesday.
Our aim now is to capture that sense of freedom and gentle exploration which we
enjoyed when long distance cruising, whilst enjoying the benefits of the Mediterranean
– the history, the pretty towns, the restaurants. Our fear was that this simply would not
be possible when squeezing trips into two-week holidays from work, especially given how
busy the Med can be in the summer. But we have had a wonderful first season in the
Greek islands of the Ionian, and are hoping to perfect the art of ‘part-time liveaboard’
this year during three months in the Aegean. There must be many other members
who, like us, are ‘part-time cruisers’. We want to share our first year’s experience and
canvass views from others on this type of cruising, and the best places to visit.
After this first season the key seems simply to be very well prepared, so that during the
holiday itself you can relax and cruise as if you had all the time in the world. For us this
boiled down to just three things. The first may seem obvious – to get all the maintenance
done well in advance, but I have had to learn to be much more disciplined about this
and not just make rolling repairs while aboard! The second is to know as much about
the cruising area as possible, and here the views of others who have cruised the area
are invaluable. This is not as easy as it may appear, and I hope that information sharing
through the CIC website will help with this in time. The final thing is to find a good
weather forecast, and for Greece we really like Poseidon, a Greek coastal forecasting
system at http://poseidon.hcmr.gr/sailing_forecast which gives wind and sea state up to
four days ahead. It helps build an illusion of being more in control.
So what of the Ionian? It has a reputation as an easy cruising area, and it was not
my first choice when looking at a chart. The Croatian coast to the north or the
‘proper’ Greek islands of the Aegean all look more alluring and give good reason to
miss out the little chain of green islands down the west coast of Greece. But I have
a cousin in Corfu and had never visited, and as a base this seemed well placed to
choose to go either way.
51
52
We spent two weeks in mid May sailing the 1000 miles from Barcelona, which I
wrote about for the March 2011 Newsletter. We spent seven days at sea, stopping just
once in Palermo for three days to let severe gales blow through – as challenging as
any Atlantic seas or gales that I have encountered. Once in Corfu we had five weeks
of holiday spread over three visits during the summer.
The Ionian islands run in a string parallel to the mainland, a gorgeous area bounded
on one side by the mountains inland and dotted with dozens of green islands for a 150
mile stretch. Some are large like Corfu, Levkas, Ithaca and Cephalonia, and there
are many smaller ones. There is also a lovely inland sea at Preveza – some 40 miles
long and very beautiful, with a very different feel to the open sea. The longest passage
necessary is only about 30 miles, between Anti Paxos and Levkas, making all passage
planning very flexible.
We found the islands very welcoming and hospitable. Although the area attracts
many tourists it has quite a gentle, sleepy feel – even Corfu which is apparently one
of the most popular destinations for British package holiday makers. Greek food
may not be the most sophisticated cuisine, but the settings of their restaurants have
to be some of the best in the world. It is hard to get tired of eating fish grilled over
charcoal, with a carafe of (very good) local wine, sitting by the sea and watching
boats come and go as the sun sets. And when you feel like getting properly away from
it all, in many beautiful anchorages we found ourselves all alone or with just one or
Town Hall Square, Corfu
53
two other boats. We never stayed in a harbour or a marina, always managing to find
a prettier anchorage, more private but just as convenient, and this is a principle we
hope to maintain.
If that is not enough, there is also a rich history to many of the islands, and in our
short time we have not even scratched the surface of one island, let alone all that
the area has to offer. There are the links with Odysseus on Ithaca, Preveza is near the
site at which Octavius (later Emperor Augustus) finally defeated Mark Anthony, the
Venetians built cities and forts up and down the coast, and the French and British
also left their legacy, most notably in Corfu.
As to the sailing, the wind is light in the middle of summer, which does mean you
might motor a little bit more than you would like, but good forecasts mean you can make
the most of what wind there is, and the settled weather means many anchorages are
open to you. And wherever possible we took advantage of the late afternoon sea breezes,
which can give a beautiful three or four hour sail at the end of the day, or conversely
the early morning calm to motor in if we were going against the prevailing wind.
In the rest of this article we offer some highlights. If you would like to know a bit more
about any of the places mentioned we have written a more detailed log on both our
website, http://web.me.com/d.fry/Magic_Wednesday, and the CIC site. All the places
we mention can be found in Rod Heikell’s Greek Waters Pilot.
Our base in Marina Gouvia, Corfu was excellent. It has well over 1000 well laidout berths, with all the facilities and professionalism you would expect from such an
The anchorage at Corfu
town, seen from the top of Old Fort
54
The view from the anchorage
at Old Fort, Corfu
operation, including a lovely swimming pool and extremely helpful staff who will help
you to find any maintenance or support you might need.
It is less than two hours by sea to Corfu town, and so this was always our first stop
with the boat. Corfu town is a perfect example of why the Med is such a great place
to cruise. It is an absolute delight. The Venetian centre and waterfront is a world
heritage site and the town shows hundreds of years of history, including periods of
first French and then British rule in the 18th and 19th centuries, both leaving much
architectural heritage. The shops, cafés and restaurants are wonderful, and it has a
lovely sophisticated ‘holiday’ feel whilst also being a real working town – not at all
what I was expecting from my ‘package holiday’ preconceptions.
There is a splendid, wide-open bay just to the southwest of the town, but many ferries
ply the route up and down the whole coast from the Adriatic all the way to Athens.
When the wind holds the boat into the wake you do not notice a thing. But in the dead
calm of night, as the boat swings beam on, it can cause a violent yaw. The answer, of
course, is a stern anchor. This, or a shore line, gave us very comfortable nights in many
places, either protecting against distant ferry wash or extra security against changes in
the weather in anchorages where the pilot book says ‘only overnight in very settled
weather’. I was very surprised not to see these techniques being used by others.
There are two small islands in the bay just off the town which are great for lunchtime
anchoring and swimming, while the northeast coast has some super anchorages and
restaurants (including our favourite in Kouloura). The southernmost anchorage on
Corfu is Petriti, which is very pleasant. About three miles along the coast from it is a
very long spit of sand called Ak Levkimmi in Rod Heikell’s pilot. He says: ‘shoal water
extends for up to half mile’. What he does not say is what a nice spot it is to drop the
anchor in settled weather and have a swim, lunch or just a bit of a rest, floating in the
middle of the sea with the mainland on one side and Corfu on the other – for a long
bank holiday weekend you could not ask for more.
55
Kouloura, Corfu
Only a day’s sail south from Corfu town lies one of our favourite islands, Paxos (and
its little neighbour Anti Paxos). There is a lovely anchorage at Lakka at the north
end of Paxos, but for us the gem was Gaios, the ‘main port’, an attractive, bohemian
village of arty shops, restaurants and cafes. The entrance to the port, through a deep,
narrow channel between Paxos and a small offlying island is very pretty, and on the
outside of the island is a great spot for anchoring with plenty of privacy even in the
high season. We used a shore line more often than not, but it was not really necessary
most of the time. In the outer anchorage we could not have felt more isolated, despite
being only ten minutes from the town by dinghy.
Anti Paxos is only 45 minutes away and boasts one of the Mediterranean’s top
10 beaches, however these things are decided. It is indeed very pretty, with golden
sand, turquoise water, and a few tavernas ashore. By day it also attracts quite a
quantity of yachts of all sizes. If you continue south for ten minutes you will be
rewarded with several coves, all beautiful and with few or no boats in them, but
you need to get right into them to realise how nice they are, and then take care
with anchoring to make sure you are in sand, not on rock. We overnighted here
several times in July and August, alone at night though during the day we would
have a couple of neighbours.
Further south again is the island of Levkas, and beyond it the cluster that includes
Ithaca, Cephalonia, Meganisi and many smaller islands. One is always surrounded
by islands and the cruising is simply beautiful.
56
Evening near Petriti
Levkas is almost attached to the mainland, with a four mile canal separating the
two. This is a very good route for sailing, although one can still make Ithaca in a long
day’s sail from Paxos by going around the outside of Levkas and avoiding the canal.
Local boats at Petriti
57
Above: Gaios Harbour, Paxos
Below: A moody sky Port Leoni
58
Dinner in Vathi
The entrance is difficult to spot if arriving from the north and one needs to get within
a mile to make it out with the naked eye, so trust your waypoint and the pilot book,
which has all the details. The bridge opens on the hour to let you pass and the trip
though the canal is very pretty, with salt marshes and lots of wildlife either side. Levkas
is a pleasant town but nothing special. You can anchor off the marina and do not have
to take a berth. Nicer still is Ligia, at the south end of the canal, a pretty spot to stop
when travelling north and with some good fish restaurants ashore.
Once through the canal the inlet opens up to what is almost an inland sea, bounded
to the west by Levkas, to the east by the mainland and to the north by Meganisi. Within
it are some small private islands owned by the Onassis family, which make nice lunch
stops. There are some good anchorages, including the very sheltered Nidri and Vlikho
which provide excellent shelter in strong winds and are quite pretty, but the best places
start on the island of Meganisi about four hours after leaving the canal.
Meganisi is quiet and very pretty, with good walking. We anchored in Ormos Kapali,
the east bay, where there are trees right down to the shore and a little stone beach.
From there it is a thirty minute walk into Vathi, a lovely little village with shops and
plenty of tavernas. There is a good quay in Vathi, and it would be a very nice stop if
you prefer to be moored up. There are other good anchorages on the island, although
the bays are quite big and can be busy.
East of Meganisi is Nisi Kalamos. We did not go to Port Kalamos, though it looks
nice, but anchored for two days in moody weather off the abandoned village at
Port Leoni (the history is in the pilot). We anchored with our stern line towards
the church just east of the old village quay, and enjoyed the lovely views. There
were three boats in the bay in the first week of September – hardly a crowd. We got
59
talking to the crew of a Greek yacht anchored stern-to the village quay, after they
had finished bashing the brains out of an octopus that they had caught for dinner.
The conversation turned to the Elgin marbles and I feared we might suffer the same
fate as the octopus, but it all remained very civilised.
From Meganisi or Nisi Kalamos it is an easy passage to Ithaca and Cephalonia. We
did not spend enough time on either, but loved the north of both islands and the
passage in between them. We anchored in the bay at Fiskardo in Cephalonia, another
delightful village with plenty of restaurants and cafes but retaining a very unspoilt feel.
The harbour was full of yachts, with the restaurant tables virtually in their cockpits –
great for those who like to be in the centre of things, but for us it reinforced the virtue
of staying at anchor whenever possible. In early September we rode out a two-day
gale in the north of Ithaca, all alone with a view all the way across to the mainland –
absolutely gorgeous! We did not get a chance to visit the south coast of either island,
nor the smaller islands in the area, but I have included some tips on my website from
people who have spent many years cruising in the area.
Heading back to Corfu we are glad we made the detour to Preveza and the stunning
inland sea of Amvrakikós Kólpos. The coast is very shallow and the entrance to the
channel starts in what seems to be the open sea, about five miles offshore. Preveza is a a
working port, but is really very pleasant for an evening in the cafés and a nice meal. The
sea then opens up into a very unpopulated area, dotted with small islands and surrounded
by some small villages and ports. It has its own school of dolphins and a lot of fish farms.
We continued as far as Vonitsa on the southern shore, which turned out to be a real
gem. It has a nice harbour, but we anchored just outside the breakwater beneath a large
Venetian fort which was floodlit at night – beautiful. Nearby was a salt lagoon and a
huge grove of eucalyptus trees with old fortifications and churches buried among them.
We tried to walk to the site of Mark Anthony’s final defeat, but did not have enough
All alone at Port Ay Nikolaos
60
Ithaca
local information to find the way in the afternoon we had available – maybe next time!
It took two days to get back to Corfu from Preveza, stopping at Paxos overnight.
We did this circuit down to Ithaca twice, the first time in a week and the second
taking two, always visiting different places, but could happily spend much more
time in this lovely area.
So what does the future hold? Marina Gouvia on Corfu is a very good base, giving access
to the rest of the Ionian to the south, while it is about 160 miles north to Montenegro
and the beginning of the Croatian coast. We hope that 2011 will see us go south to
Athens and into the Aegean, but we plan to return to Corfu for the winter so that
next season we can take Magic Wednesday north up the Adriatic to have a May break
in Venice, and then enjoy the prevailing wind to cruise slowly back south down the
coast of Croatia during the summer.
Even then we will only have seen a few of the many Aegean Islands, hardly anything
of mainland Greece or the Peloponnese, not even gone near Turkey while, other than
Venice (and Sardinia in 2002), the Italian mainland is completely unknown to us.
So, whilst we still long to cross the Atlantic again, for now we will enjoy reading the
voyages of others further afield while we remain cruising in the ‘cradle of civilisation’,
the lands bordering the Mediterranean and the beautiful seas connecting them.
If you have any advice for us – local knowledge of or favourite spots in the Aegean
(especially the Gulf of Patra, the Corinth Canal or Cyclades), Venice or the Adriatic – I
would love to hear from you at david@fish2fry.com, and will include any information
sent to us on our website, http://web.me.com/d.fry/Magic_Wednesday, so that other
members can also benefit from it. I will also continue to write up our own
experiences and post them to the OCC cruising information site at
http://cic.oceancruisingclub.org as well as to our own.

61
62
FROM THE GALLEY OF ... Bill and Nancy Salvo, aboard
Cascade II
Clam Chowder
Ingredients
•
•
•
•
•
•
150g bacon, chopped
1 large onion, chopped
6-7 potatoes, cubed or chopped
250 ml cream (cooking or UHT is fine)
milk, to desired consistency
3 tins clams, whole or chopped
Sauté the onions and bacon. Cook the potatoes separately in salted water until al dente
(ie. firm but not hard) and drain. Add the cream, clams and juices to the potatoes and stir
in the bacon and onions. Add milk to the desired consistency and simmer 10/15 minutes.
The same recipe but using fish becomes New England Fish Chowder, and is best
made with a white fish such as cod or hake.

FROM THE GALLEY OF ... Gavin and Georgie McLaren,
aboard Margaret Wroughton
Flambé Bananas
These make a good end to an impromptu, or other, supper party, using ingredients
that are likely to be on board.
Ingredients
•
•
•
•
•
butter
brown sugar (about one tbs per banana)
dark rum
nutmeg or cinnamon
cream or condensed/evaporated milk (optional)
Peel the bananas and remove any strings, and slice in half lengthways. Over a low heat,
melt a generous knob of butter in a frying pan – preferably a heavy, non-stick one. Fry
the bananas for a couple of minutes, turning occasionally, then sprinkle the brown
sugar over them. A little more butter may be needed if the bananas look as though
they are drying out. Continue frying, turning the bananas so that they are well coated
with the melted sugar and butter mix and are heated right through.
Remove the pan from the heat and add one tablespoon of rum per banana. Take to
the table and ignite the rum. When the flame has died down, sprinkle some nutmeg
or cinnamon over the bananas and serve with cream or condensed/evaporated milk.
This is not a ‘low fat’ or ‘good for your heart’ recipe ... but it is nice!
63
FROM THE GALLEY OF ... Sue Thatcher, aboard Tamar
Swallow
American Biscuits (though made by a Brit on a British boat....)
Ingredients •
•
•
•
•
1¾ cup all purpose flour
2½ tsp baking powder
½ tsp salt
⅓ cup shortening or oil
¾ cup milk
Blend the dry ingredients together until they resemble bread crumbs. Blend in oil and
milk slowly, so that the mixture leaves the side of the bowl.
Roll out to ½inch thick and cut with 2in cutter. Place on greased tray and bake in
a hot 230°C / Gas Mark 8 oven for 10 to 12 minutes.
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65
GREENLAND, HORIZONTAL AND
VERTICAL
Rev Bob Shepton
(Page 110 of Flying Fish 2010/1 saw the Reverend Bob Shepton’s Westerly 33 Discus Dodo’s
Delight laid up in Assiaat, Greenland at the end of a highly successful cruise which took them
beyond 80°N. She was not to slumber for long, however, and many of the places mentioned
in the following account appear on the plan which accompanied that article.
An unusual photograph of Dodo’s Delight in the Torssút near Upernavik adorns this
issue’s cover – read on to learn why she came to be there!)
The prospect of sailing in Greenland without an engine was not nice, because of
the ice. But surely the whalers and old masters used to do that all the time? Yes, but
remember, many of them never came back. I had left Dodo’s Delight at the boatyard
in Aasiaat for the winter, so it was rather stressful when I returned and the engine
would not start, and then the alternator would not work. Eventually we thought we
had solved both problems. We little knew.
‘I cannot believe you have world class climbers on your boat this summer’, wrote
a crew member from last year. Ignoring the obviously unintended personal slight,
my international team this year comprised the Favresse brothers, Nico and Olivier
A ‘jam’ session on deck
66
The locals wanted to learn too
(Belgian), Sean Villaneuva O’Driscoll (Irish/Spanish/Belgian), and Ben Ditto
(American). World class? Well, we would see. After viewing their website and seeing
all those high fives and yells on completing their climbs I had merely dubbed them
‘The Wild Bunch’– and to keep them in their place of course. They enjoyed that.
They duly arrived in Aasiaat on the plane and immediately that afternoon took over
the Greenland National Day celebrations at the boatyard party, entertaining the staff
with their musical instruments and song. Next day we went out for an afternoon sail,
literally to learn the ropes as two of them had never sailed before, and finally put out
for the passage to Upernavik, waking the retired local judge who had just returned
from a two-year Atlantic circuit in his yacht to say our farewells on the way out.
It proved a rather arduous passage for us all and especially the two novices. We
motored across Disko Bay, but a breeze came up at last so we turned the engine off and
sailed. But thereafter the engine would not start and we had to sail, whether there was
Whales in the Vaigat by Disko Island
67
strong wind or none at all, and there was the occasional iceberg, sometimes looming
suddenly out of mist. It was particularly frustrating in the dead calms, of which there
are many in Greenland because of the High over the icecap, and Sean was heard to
comment, “This must be the low point of the expedition”. I only hoped he was right and
there would be nothing worse. It took us five days to sail the normal two-day passage,
with the final indignity of having to sail very slowly through a lot of icebergs in full
Starting Seagulls’ Garden
on Red Wall
68
Anchored close in, in the Torssút nearer Upernavik
view of the settlement of Upernavik, before having to negotiate coming alongside the
wharf under sail alone. “Well, you wanted to learn to sail, lads, didn’t you?”
Solving the engine starting proved embarrassingly easy, solving the alternator
problem did not. But obviously the team wanted to get quickly to the climbing so I
bought a portable generator which was far too big and heavy for a small boat but was
the only one I could find available, and we set off for the big walls of the area. They
started with two clear cut dihedral and crack lines on the cliff we call Red Wall, at the
southern end of the Sortehul. Having settled the boat up against the cliff, they stepped
into the dinghy moored at the bow and so onto the rock to start, and completed the
350m and 400m extreme climbs in one big 30-hour push. The only problem was that,
to save weight, they had not taken a radio with them so when finished they had to
walk all the way round the fjord behind the headland to where I had anchored the
boat. The first I knew of it was when Sean swam, in the nude in Greenlandic waters,
across to the boat in the early hours next morning. “Oh, I’m sorry, I was asleep” – “Not
at all, I wanted to swim”.
Their next foray was on another dramatic big wall in the Torssút nearer Upernavik.
I dropped them off by dinghy this time, and then returned to Upernavik to try and
solve the alternator problem. After three or four days of investigation it turned out
that both alternators were defunct, so I had to buy a new one – at Danish prices! But
at least we could now charge the batteries via the engine.
Having everything working may well have lulled me into a false sense of security.
When I returned to see how the lads had got on, it looked as if it was the bottom
of the tide in the pleasant cove below their encampment, so I anchored close-in to
save a long dinghy ride with all their gear. It wasn’t, and we took the ground. But this
was no problem, though the boat did heel over more and more, to their slight alarm.
However this only gave the Wild Bunch the opportunity to jump off and do Tarzan
69
swings through the air on the topping lift
before releasing to splash into the sea. It
also gave an opportunity to introduce the
crew to the art of getting off a bank as the
tide rose, getting them to lay out a kedge
and then winching off into deeper water
with the lads bouncing up and down on the
bow. I was just secretly pleased it all worked,
though I have to admit this was not the first
time I have had to do that in my career.
But the tour de force of their climbing in
this area was the first ascent of Impossible
Wall. I have had my eye on that wall for
many years now but, as I told them, I have
never had a team strong enough to climb
it before, hence the name. Their route was
simply the steepest and hardest climb on
the wall, and probably in the whole area,
850m and 19 pitches of sustained extreme
standard. It was also the first time the
Starting Impossible Wall
– no way to treat a boat
‘Garden of Eden’ had been
planted on my boat. The cliff
dropped sheer into the sea, and
they stepped straight off the
boat onto the wall, with Dodo
moored alongside on a couple
of climbing cams in cracks.
The first crack line required a
lot of ‘gardening’ of grass and
earth as they climbed, which
The skipper comes to see
how the climbers are doing
70
landed on the boat. It took them ten days to complete the climb, with three different
‘camps’ in portaledges suspended on the wall on the way up, though three days were
spent in one of these owing to bad weather. This was no problem – they played their
musical instruments included in their haul bags and composed new songs!
Nico was heard to remark afterwards, “I think that must be the greatest adventure
of my life so far”, and a knowledgeable authority has subsequently commented that it
is probably the hardest climb done in Greenland to date. Hopefully these landmark
climbs will help open up the huge potential of this area to climbers in the future.
Having at last picked them up from the back of the mountain, and drunk a toast
in champagne
together to
celebrate their
success, we
retired to the only
safe anchorage in
the Sortehul, at
its northern end,
just before stormy
conditions
ensured a rest
period anyway.
We were joined
there by friends
in their smart 54ft
Discovery Saxon
Blue, which
Rich Haworth
from the yacht
consultancy
High Latitudes
had
just
skippered from
Iceland. Later
some kayakers
f r o m Wa l e s
with whom I
had been in
touch previously
arrived in the
The first pitch
(of nineteen) of
Impossible Wall
71
Anchorages made
in heaven, until
the tripping line
got caught around
the propeller
same inlet, and we all enjoyed a very pleasant evening together on Saxon Blue,
entertained of course by my team with music and song. This became a feature of the
whole expedition. Later we met up with Andrew and Moira Wilkes, OCC, aboard their
gaff yawl Young Larry in Upernavik on their way to the North West Passage, and then
Ariel IV in a remote anchorage also bound there, and each time my team entertained
the assembled company royally. But it turned out that Moira is a music teacher, and
she taught them to play the spoons; thereafter I kept finding bent spoons all around my
boat. Incidentally I may well have seen more yachts in Greenland this summer than I
have seen in all the previous years put together – not entirely welcome to those of us
who selfishly want to keep paradise to ourselves!
There had been an interesting interlude whilst they had been on the wall. I took
myself off to explore, and also to survey some other possible big walls further in towards
the icecap. As usual in Greenland the distances were further than expected, and there
turned out to be only one possibly interesting big wall anyway, but I did find a beautiful,
remote, unknown, keyhole anchorage. The only problem was that, the sea bed being an
unknown quantity I attached a tripping line to the anchor, and in the calm conditions
somehow the line and fender/buoy became entwined with the propeller. I remembered
a previous year when I had cleared the prop by moving the boat close inshore so I did
not have to dive fully with a tank, but how to get the boat there? In the end I pulled
up the anchor, attached the Avon and its 2hp outboard alongside, and motored gently
over to some rocks on the shoreline. But my troubles were not over. Diving dry suits
often have the zip at the back, and there was no way despite all sorts of contortions
that I could zip this up on my own, so I had to duck underneath the water with the
zip still open. “That’s dangerous,” I was told later. I can confirm that, because it was
almost impossible to climb back on board even with a boarding ladder with my legs full
72
Drying out the INSIDE of
the dry suit afterwards
of heavy water. But I had managed to clear the prop.
Another aspect of exploring in Greenland also
became apparent. On two occasions I nearly hit
isolated rocks in deep fjords, the water going from
100m+ 4m, 3m, 2m in a matter of seconds. Either they
were in the wrong place on the charts, or my boat was
in the wrong place on the chart plotter!
‘When in Greenland do as the Greenlanders do’ – I
had stupidly lost my smart Avon dinghy paddles by
leaving them on deck when I went round to check
the climbers on one occasion. The weather turned out
to be brisker than expected, and they must have got
washed overboard without my noticing. Now, putting
into a delightful bay with a sandy beach opposite
Tasiusaq – it also had the advantage of avoiding the
slightly tricky pilotage into that fjord and then finding
depth for anchoring inside, also tricky – I rowed ashore
with some wooden slats tied onto brooms, found some
suitable driftwood, and made new paddles. The Inuit
would have been proud of me!
But soon it was time to go south. First to Aasiaat to collect gear we had left and prepare
for the long haul to the southern tip of Greenland, and then the Atlantic. The 500+
miles south to the vicinity of Kap Farvell proved somewhat arduous, as there was either
no wind or it was in our faces – in Greenland there is often either too much wind or
none at all. It also included a rather unpleasant evening making our way in heavy swell
through big bands of ice – growlers, bergy bits and bergs – streaming out of the Sermilik
glacier and fjord south of Paamiut. We had called in at Manitsoq and Paamiut, and
An interesting passage – Moses was up here too?
73
Some say climbers are mad by definition...
investigated some other possible big walls on the way, but to no avail – this time the
lads had to get their kicks by skinny dipping in Arctic waters amongst the ice floes!
After calling at Nanortalik for stores and fuel, and reading past expedition reports at
the tourist office, we made our way to the Kap Farvell area.
We were immediately struck by the difference – at Upernavik it had been big sea cliffs,
here the terrain was Alpine in character . We made five first ascents. The first two were
on a remote wall and unnamed peak after a 5km walk in (carrying all that gear) from
the boat, anchored not too happily on a lee shore in the Torssukatak. To quote Nico,
“Two classic clean direct lines on excellent rock”. They then traversed the ridge to
the main peak and kindly named it Shepton Spire. Another two extreme routes were
completed at the northern end of Quvnerit Island, and foolishly the skipper allowed
himself to be persuaded to do a new route with two of them. At 500m and extreme
difficulty it was too long and too hard for an old man – I was exhausted, and named it
Never Again! Seventy-five seems a good age to retire from that sort of thing ... again!
We made our way down Prins Christian Sund, hoping to enjoy Danish pastries at
the Weather Station at the far end. We were not disappointed. Then we prepared for
the Atlantic, which the Wild Bunch were keen to do ‘for the experience’. They were
not disappointed. The weather forecast was not cheering. Always keen to encourage
my crew, the night before we set off I seem to remember saying, “In twelve days’ time
we should be in Scotland – or dead”. They enjoyed that. And, “By the way, this is my
thirteenth Atlantic crossing – lucky you aren’t superstitious”.
74
It was quite a tough passage. When we put out next day, mindful of Post Tropical Storm
Danielle tracking along by Nova Scotia and Newfoundland, we did not turn south but
kept at 61°N. But there was high pressure over Scandinavia, Britain and Europe and
the depressions could not get through. We found ourselves endlessly tacking, long ocean
tacks, along this parallel against strong easterly winds, and then Danielle turned north
and spun up past us trailing her skirts of heavy line squalls and banshee shrieking in the
rigging, and later another vigorous double depression turned north over us too. But we
were well snugged down by then, hove-to on both occasions, with inner foresail rolled
to near storm jib and trysail. In all we hove-to four times, but one of these was the
skipper being lazy as being a bit older now he doesn’t like this crashing against the seas
and explosions when you fall off a wave. On another occasion we had to stop to tighten
the nut which holds the wheel in place, and also the steering cables down below, as too
much play had developed in the steering. It was difficult as we did
not have all the right tools but fortunately
we were successful.
Hove-to in
mid-Atlantic
75
Sean takes a bath in mid-Atlantic
At last we were able to work south, and persisted in this even when it appeared that
we were in danger of going west of south. Would we ever reach those westerlies further
south, depicted on the weatherfaxes? They were a long time coming, but finally we
picked up a following wind and bowled along broad-reaching or running before goosewinged, making good progress towards Scotland at last. With all that crashing and now
rolling the bookcase with all the books fell off the bulkhead, narrowly missing Ben’s
legs in the bunk below, and there was an interesting interlude one night on the Rockall
Bank with a
big fishing
boat which
we presumed
was dragnet
fishing. With
all those
lights on deck
Downwind
sailing at last
76
The Devil’s Brew, a present
to the Reverend from the
Wild Bunch ...Thanks!
we found it difficult to pick out
the relevant navigation lights,
but eventually we saw both port
and starboard and knew we were
crossing its bows. They flashed
us with a searchlight a couple
of times but we did not know
whether that was to say, ‘Okay,
we’ve seen you’ or ‘Get out of
the way’. They did not call on
the VHF. We put the engine on,
just in case, and eventually saw
it pass safely astern of us.
Occasionally the skipper
ordered some rolls in the jenny
or a reef in the main – these
Mediterranean sailors used to
short trips seemed to want to sail
flat out all the time, regardless of what it might be doing to boat or crew! Finally
there was Mingulay ahead, and we took the time to inspect the cliffs of Mingulay
and Pabbay as there was an idea it might be ‘cool’ to do a climb immediately after
having sailed across the Atlantic. We anchored for the night off a pleasant sandy
beach on the east side of Mingulay, sheltered from the strong westerlies, and were
intrigued by a huge colony of seals lining the waterline and moving up and down with
the tide. Next morning the skipper overruled the possibility of climbing, however,
feeling that progress should be made as the synoptic chart looked as if there might be
strong winds coming. Indeed we had a fine run across the Minch and past the Cairns
of Coll, before anchoring in Loch Drumbuie rather than piloting down the Sound
of Mull in the dark with a crew who did not know it. Next day as we approached
Oban and later in the harbour we were greeted with a full gale. Welcome home!
Of course this had nothing to do with the fact that this was their first but my
thirteenth crossing, the date was the 13th, and a large number 13 is, for some unknown
reason, the sail number on my trysail. No, we are not superstitious...
Bob and his crew would particularly like to thank the Gino Watkins Memorial Fund
for supporting this expedition, which also features on the Wild Bunch’s blog at http://
www.xpedition.be/. For further information about Bob, and yet more truly excellent
photographs, visit his website at www.bobshepton.co.uk.
77
POSTSCRIPT
In mid March Bob e-mailed to say that he and the Wild Bunch had been shortlisted
for a Piolet d’Or (French for Golden Ice Axe) by the French magazine Montagnes and
The Groupe de Haute Montagne. Five weeks later I received the following:
To my surprise and delight we received one of the two Piolets
d’Or – probably the most prestigious of the world’s mountaineering
awards – for our expedition in Greenland last summer.
Of course Bill Tilman would have hated all the hype and media
attention, but in many ways I see it as a vindication of
his innovative methods. I believe it was the unusual way of
climbing which caught the attention of the judges – approaching
by sailing boat in remote areas of the world to complete
extreme climbs, some literally starting from the boat.
My team naturally had to bring their musical instruments,
an integral part of their climbing as demonstrated on the
portaledges of Impossible Wall! Members might have been amused
at the sight of this 76-year-old Scottish ‘priest’ (the award
ceremonies were in France and Italy) dancing and singing What
shall we do with the drunken sailor? with the lads in the town
square of Courmayeur, surrounded by the local mountain guides
in their traditional dress.....
The Reverend and the Wild Bunch celebrate their win
Photo Anna Piunova
78
79
GUIDELINES FOR CONTRIBUTORS
SUBJECT MATTER: absolutely anything which is likely to interest, inform or amuse
other members. Technical articles are particularly welcome. By all means send the
same piece or similar pieces to the Newsletter [newsletter@oceancruisingclub.org], and
to Flying Fish [flying.fish@oceancruisingclub.org], but PLEASE inform us BOTH of
the duplication. Printing the same article twice is highly embarrassing!
By the same token, while you have every right to send your article to the journals of
several clubs it’s courteous to tell the editors concerned – and if you hope to sell your
work to a commercial magazine be warned that most will not even consider an article
which has already been published elsewhere, even in a humble club journal. Flying Fish,
on the other hand, is generally happy to print articles which have already appeared
commercially, and can often feature them at greater length and with far more illustrations.
LENGTH: preferably no more than 3000 words. Longer articles are sometimes
accepted, but only if they’re of exceptional interest. I dislike having to cut other people’s
writing and more often throw it back to the author for amendment – so if your efforts
are lengthy, please allow extra time.
FORMAT: the vast majority of articles now arrive by e-mail. Equally acceptable is an
MS Word or similar text file on CD, formatted for PC rather than Mac. A hard copy
following/accompanying the original is very helpful – files can and do get scrambled, while
accents frequently come through as gibberish (if applicable, and not on the electronic
version, please mark them in on the hard copy in RED pen). I’m willing to scan good
quality typescript, but Flying Fish no longer accepts faxed or handwritten articles without
prior agreement. Whatever your choice, please ensure that all place, personal and boat
names are spelt correctly. I can’t always check them and errors can offend!
Please don’t spend time on fancy formatting – it won’t import into InDesign, our
layout programme, and in any case is not the Flying Fish style. Stick to a standard font
such as Times New Roman and limit yourself to capitals, italics and bold.
Finally, PLEASE BE ORGANISED! If the text you attach is not intended to be
your final draft please make this clear in your cover note. While I’m happy to read
an early draft and comment if requested, it’s frustrating to spend time editing only to
receive a new, and very altered, version. Minor amendments or corrections are fine,
however, either made using the ‘tracked changes’ feature in Word or typed into the
previous version in RED and then HIGHLIT. Just don’t expect me to spot minor,
unmarked changes amongst a sea of text!
CHARTLETS: if relevant, please include a rough chartlet of your travels, showing
your route and places mentioned in the text. Don’t worry if the map on which you
draw your route (on paper or computer) is copyright, or if your efforts are a little
untidy – Flying Fish chartlets are nearly always redrawn for us, overcoming both of
these problems. Google satellite images, as featured in Mike Bickell’s article, are
80
among those covered by copyright, but their ‘Permission Guidelines’ (see www.
google.com/permissions/geoguidelines.html) allow for limited reproduction in order
to ‘demonstrate product use’.
LAT/LONG POSITIONS: if your article includes cruising information useful to others,
please include latitudes and longitudes where appropriate, preferably as a separate list.
Although they are unlikely to be included in the printed version of Flying Fish, such
positions will be very useful to those who access your article via the club’s CIC (Cruising
Information Community) website, where information about places is linked to maps
of cruising areas and where Flying Fish articles are referenced by the areas covered.
ILLUSTRATIONS: most photographs are now received digitally in JPG format by
e-mail or on CD, though I’m also happy to receive prints for scanning. Watercolour
paintings or black-and-white line drawings make an interesting alternative should
you (or your crew) have skills in that direction, in which case you may prefer to send
a high resolution scan rather than parting with the original. If in doubt, get in touch
in good time and we can discuss the technicalities.
Returning to photographs, the temptation is often to be over-generous, which
creates something of a nightmare for your editor! So ... PLEASE DON’T SEND
MORE THAN 20 PHOTOS MAXIMUM. Remember that while you’re writing a
single piece for Flying Fish, I generally receive at least 20 articles, which means up to
400 photographs to sort through!
To reproduce well, photographs need to measure at least 16cm wide at 300 dpi
(118dpcm), or 67cm wide at 72 dpi (28∙35dpcm), the default setting for most cameras.
If the above means nothing to you, please send your photographs EXACTLY as they
were downloaded from the camera – merely opening them and saving under another
name will degrade the quality. Like nearly all professionals I detest times and dates
embedded into photographs – of course they can be painted out, but it takes time – and
even worse are embedded captions. The former are generally added by the camera, the
second by a software programme, but both can and should be turned off.
If sending photos by e-mail, particularly from the more remote parts of the globe, please
attach no more than three per e-mail, or just one or two if they’re very large files. A label
in the e-mail’s subject line – “CAPE HORN article; e-mail 1 of 6; pics 1 to 3 attached”,
for example – makes life simpler for all. I know what I should be getting and you know
what you’ve sent! Even so, a final e-mail (without attachments) confirming how many
e-mails and photographs I should have received can do no harm at all.
A recent problem has been the proliferation of photo-handling programmes such as
PhotoShop Elements, Picasa 3 and ACDSee, which include an ‘attach to e-mail’ facility.
Very handy on the face of it, but what they don’t point out is that they automatically
downsize each photo to make it easier to send, often making it too small to print. The
same goes for the ‘web albums’ from which I’m occasionally invited to choose and
download. To send photos at the original size you need to create an e-mail in Outlook
Express or your favourite Webmail program and then attach each photo manually – in
81
this case the old ways still are best. Finally, please try to send all your photographs within
a few hours. If this isn’t possible please let me know, and I won’t make a final selection
until they’ve all arrived. Many thanks.
CAPTIONS: please provide a list of captions in the order they relate to your article.
Don’t spend hours renumbering or re-titling the photographs themselves – I’d much
rather receive captions in Word than have to extract them individually from each
photograph. Something along the lines of:
Photo 1 (DCM 3285) Preparing the boat for sea
Photo 2 (DCM 3321) Leaving Horta, John at the helm
Photo 3 (DSP 00045) The whale! (photo Sue Black)
is perfect and gives me all the information I need. Some contributors also send a Word
document or PDF showing where the photographs should fall. This can be very helpful,
but please don’t forget that I’ll still need the photos as individual JPGs. Although
pictures can be extracted from document files the quality suffers dramatically.
Much of the above also applies if sending prints, in which case each picture will need
to be identified by a self-adhesive sticker on the back with a PENCILLED number (ball
pen often smudges onto the next photo). To be doubly safe, prints are best separated
by sheets of ordinary paper, then sealed in a polythene bag inside the outer packaging.
COPYRIGHT: Whatever your photographic technique, please ensure that you
either own the copyright of photographs or have the photographer’s permission for
them to be reproduced, not merely in Flying Fish but also on one or both of the club’s
websites – see also the note from our Legal Team, below. I’m happy to include a credit
if requested, but Flying Fish cannot pay reproduction fees. I take great care of prints
and original artwork and return them after use, but neither Flying Fish nor the OCC
can be held responsible for loss or damage. USB sticks will normally be returned after
the contents have been downloaded, but CDs and hard copy will not be sent back
unless specifically requested.
DEADLINES: The final deadline for inclusion in the January 2012 issue is Saturday
1 October, though as I operate a firm ‘last in, first out’ policy, it really is a case of the
earlier the better.
Anne Hammick, Editor
AND FINALLY, A NOTE FROM OUR LEGAL TEAM ...
You should not submit material for publication which is in any way confidential,
defamatory or knowingly inaccurate. By submitting material for publication, you
warrant that either you are the copyright holder or you have the copyright holder’s
permission to use the material without restriction and further, that you have the
authority to and do grant to both the OCC and the CIC limited licences to publish
the material in their publications and on their websites.
82
......a small selection of Berthon listings past and present.
www.berthon.co.uk
Supporter of the OCC and the Bluewater cruising yacht specialist
83
84
GOTHENBURG TO ITCHENOR
WITH WOTAN
Anthony Fawcett
Wotan is a Swan 411, built in 1978. She had been away in the Baltic for two winters
and it was time for her to come home. I had not explored the southwest coast of
Norway, nor had I sailed in Scotland. The cruise home therefore provided the perfect
opportunity to redress these two omissions.
Patrick Piper, who had helped me commission Wotan, and Oscar Johansen, who lives
on Tonsberg fjord, sailed from Gothenburg to Tonsberg with me. We left Gothenburg in
mid afternoon and motored to Marstrand – it was late May and the place was deserted.
The next day we sailed up to Gullholmen in perfect weather. It was scarcely credible,
but there was a gale forecast for the night and the next morning so we stayed put in
Gullholmen, a delightful old fishing village, until it blew over before heading the 6
miles to Lysekil where we replenished Wotan’s sadly depleted wine locker.
Next morning we set off to cover the 50 miles to the Nord Koster Islands. The gale
of the previous day had departed and we were back under blue skies. We had to motor
as far as Smögen, where the wind freed allowing us to sail all the rest of the way. The
Bohuslän Archipelago is very different from the Stockholm Archipelago and arguably
even more attractive. After a gentle sail across the mouth of the Oslo fjord we were
met in Tonsberg by Oscar’s wife and their wildly excited springer spaniel.
The sailmaker’s café at Lyngør on the south coast of Norway
85
86
A narrow passage in the Blindleia
My wife Bim and I returned to Tonsberg in mid June, where we were joined by Chris
and Annie Creak. Our first port of call was Kragerø and we were charmed by this
little fishing port with its narrow streets. We went on to Lyngør, where the sailmaker’s
loft doubles as a café and overlooks the scene of a battle in 1812 during which HMS
Dictator destroyed the Danish frigate Najaden. We continued southwest past Arendal
and on to Grimstad. Lillesand, 10 miles south of Grimstad, marks the beginning of the
Blindleia, a narrow fjord which runs parallel to the coast and inside the archipelago.
You need very large-scale charts for the Blindleia, a particularly attractive area, as the
normal 1:50,000 charts do not provide sufficient detail. At times you wonder whether
there really is a passage through, but the area is well marked.
We spent the next night at Mandal before heading off round Lindesnes, a much
respected headland in the Skagerrak. On this occasion it was in a very peaceful mood,
though the chop indicated that in bad weather it would be horrid. In the sailing season
the Norwegian lifeboat institution will escort yachts around Lindesnes. We anchored
for the night in Skarvøyvika, an almost totally enclosed bay. It was Midsommer Night
and someone had lit a bonfire on the rocks just outside the bay, but otherwise we
were alone. Norwegian Midsommer celebrations are rather more muted than those
in Sweden, where it is a national holiday.
Next morning we worked our way around Lista Point and moored for lunch in
Kirkehamn, the southern entrance to which is so narrow that, standing on the rail, we
could almost touch the cliffs on either side. Its name comes from the beautiful wooden
87
Nesvåg harbour in the morning light
church which stands on a hill overlooking the village. We moored for the night in
Nesvåg, alongside Sjödis, an old fishing vessel now used for charters, before continuing
to Stavanger with stops at Egersund and Sirevåg. I was expecting Stavanger to be a
Scandinavian version of Houston, but it was full of cobbled streets and attractive
wooden buildings.
There I waved goodbye to Bim and was joined by Alison Miller and Robert Gayner.
We spent the first night anchored in Ådnøyvågen, possibly the most beautiful anchorage
of the cruise, which lies opposite the entrance to Lysefjord. Then we motored up
Lysefjord in perfect weather to the famous Pulpit Rock, which drops 600m into the sea.
Fjords, while majestic and beautiful, tend not to make for great sailing as the wind blows
either up or down them, plus the water is so deep that there are few anchorages. Then
we headed north to Haugesund to meet Carl Sjostedt. The waterfront at Haugesund
has been very well restored, with many of the warehouses converted into restaurants
or cafés. They make an attractive ensemble, topped off with an entrancing statue of
Marilyn Monroe.
North of Stavanger you enter the fjord country, where the leads are wider and the
islands bigger than those on the south coast of Norway. Between Haugesund and
Bergen there is a myriad of leads and anchorages, with small fishing villages strategically
placed along the coast. The oil revenues have allowed the Norwegian government to
build bridges to many of the islands in the archipelago, thus changing the economy
of the region. We stopped off to see some friends who live south of Bergen, mooring
alongside their yacht in which they had just completed the Bergen-Lerwick Race and
enjoying a barbecue on their terrace overlooking Raunefjorden as the sun set. Next
morning we sailed up to Bergen, where we moored in the Bryggan, the old docks, now
a World Heritage site.
After waiting for a gale to blow over we set off for Lerwick. We chose to leave Bergen
and the Hjeltefjord via the Rongaloftet Channel, the closest navigable channel to
88
Pulpit Rock in Lysefjord
the city. Once through the Rongaloftet Bridge the seas were very steep, caused by the
swell from the previous night’s gale breaking on the shallows immediately offshore.
However we soon settled into our watches and headed westwards close-hauled towards
Lerwick. Dawn saw us in the middle of the Oseberg oilfield. The main platform was huge
and the two satellite platforms not much smaller – photographs do not give a proper
impression of the scale of these structures. During the afternoon the wind backed into
the south and increased, giving us an exciting sail in driving rain into Lerwick where,
with some relief, we docked at 0230 next morning. By the time we woke the wind
and the rain of the night before had gone and Bressay, across the sound, was bathed
in sunshine. Later we took an evening cruise on a replica Viking ship. We had a most
enjoyable run down Bressay Sound under sail, but paid for it on the return when the
engine refused to start and we had to row the last mile back to Lerwick.
Oseberg ‘A’
Platform
three miles
away in the
dawn light
89
Ant, Alison, Carl and Robert at the oars
Two weeks later, towards the end of July, Alison Garrett and Digger Harris joined me for
the next leg of Wotan’s cruise, to Stornoway. Digger is the son-in-law of David Howarth,
who commanded the Shetland Bus* operation during World War 2, so this cruise was
something of a pilgrimage for him. We set off for West Lunna Voe, the initial base for
the Shetland Bus. The little harbour and Lunna Kirk provide a moving testament to
the bravery of the many young Norwegians who took part in the operation. Then we
headed north up to Balta Sound on Unst, sighting a minke whale in Colgrave Sound
en route, and rounded Muckle Flugga, the northernmost lighthouse in Britain, the cliffs
around it white with nesting gannets. We continued down the west coast of Unst to
Scalloway, to which the Shetland Bus operation moved later in the war as there were
much better facilities available. There is a memorial overlooking the harbour to those
who died, and a small museum with a section devoted to the Shetland Bus.
I had not known what to expect of the Shetlands, but found them rugged and
imposing while at the same time very beautiful, with a sheltered anchorage always near
at hand. The weather is very changeable in those latitudes, but during the summer bad
weather rarely lasts long and when it is fine, as it often is, the views are stunning. The
people are rugged, independent people whom nothing fazes, and the Shetland Islands
* The name given to the clandestine special operations group which linked Shetland,
Scotland, and German-occupied Norway. The boats used were generally fishing
boats of 50ft to 70ft LOA, and crossings were mostly made during winter under the
cover of darkness. Heroism indeed!
90
Digger beside the Shetland Bus memorial in Scalloway
Council has used the revenues from Sullom Voe wisely to improve the infrastructure
and the civic amenities. I was very glad to have cruised the Shetlands, albeit briefly.
We had a wonderful sail down to Fair Isle, where we moored in North Haven next
to the ferry berth. There we met Edward Anker, who had sailed singlehanded from
New Zealand via Chile and the Beagle Channel in his home-built 29ft cutter. Fair Isle
is owned by the National Trust for Scotland and is a birdwatcher’s paradise. Even so,
we left early in the morning for the Orkneys and, after a night at anchor off Sanday,
moored in Kirkwall, the capital. The Italian Chapel and the Neolithic village of Skara
Brae are well worth a visit.
The time had come to make the leap across to the Scottish mainland. There are
some interesting tidal races in the Orkneys which need to be treated with respect,
but by 1000 we were through the Rost of Burgar and on our way to Loch Eriboll.
The entrance to the loch looks very like the cliffs on the Shetlands, with waterfalls,
Muckle Flugga Lighthouse and gannetry
91
92
North Haven, Fair Isle
stacks and natural bridges. We spent the night in Rispond Bay on the west side of the
entrance, weighing anchor early next morning to catch the tide around Cape Wrath
– an imposing sight – and reaching Loch A’chadh-fi, a small, totally enclosed loch off
Loch Laxford, in time for lunch. After lunch we headed off to the delightfully named
Badcall Bay, where I think you could ride out a hurricane at anchor. We had hoped to
sail on further south, but with strong northwesterlies forecast for the rest of the week
we decided to cut our cruise short and sail direct for Stornoway.
In Stornoway I was joined by Mike and Pally Gibb and Mark Atkinson. We had a fortnight
to cover a mere 139 miles, as the crow flies, to Oban – hardly challenging OCC sailing!
We spent the first night at anchor at the head of Loch Snell. This provided a good
jumping-off point for the Shiants, where we anchored next morning in perfect weather.
Cape Wrath lighthouse
93
Wotan at anchor in Acairseid Mhór, with Skye in the distance
The crew climbed to the top of Eilean an Tigh while I dozed in the heather. Then we
set sail for Scalpay where we anchored in the South Harbour, beautiful in the clear
evening light. After a visit to nearby Tarbert to re-provision we sailed on down the coast
of Harris, past the Sound of Harris to Loch Maddy on North Uist, where we anchored
off the romantically named Sponish House, sadly now a ruin. By then the weather had
closed in once again. Fortunately next morning the clouds lifted and the rain stopped,
allowing us to cross the Little Minch to Skye to anchor at the head of Loch Greshornish.
From there we moved on to Acairseid Mhór on South Rona, an anchorage much loved
by Scottish yachtsmen. In the 15th century it was a pirate lair.
Friday 13 August dawned dreek, the clouds so low you could not see Skye across the
Sound of Raasay, but we slipped out of the anchorage and headed to Portree for fuel and
provisions before setting sail for Plockton. By the time we reached Plockton – a delightful
harbour overlooked by the obligatory castle – the weather had improved significantly.
In the morning we motored in perfect weather under the Skye Bridge. By now I
had learned that the weather on the west coast of Scotland is very variable. A really
foul day would be followed by a cloudy dull day, which would in turn give way to the
most glorious weather. But as there is always a sheltered anchorage to be found there
is no need to be overly worried by bad weather in the summer. We had identified the
Old Forge at Inverie on Loch Nevis as a good place for dinner. It is reputed to be the
remotest pub in Britain, accessible only by foot or by sea, so we set off through the Kyle
of Lochalsh and down the Sound of Sleat. The Cuillins stood out on the horizon to
the west while the mainland, bathed in the afternoon light, looked idyllic – and our
dinner at the Old Forge was excellent.
Loch Scavaig, on the south coast of Skye, is a must on any cruising yachtsman’s
94
itinerary, despite the Admiralty Pilot’s warnings about winds hurtling down from the
cliffs above. There was little danger of that as we set off under motor. We rounded
the Aird of Sleat and approached Loch Scavaig, which is situated in a truly majestic
position just below the Cuillins. Later we went ashore for a gentle scramble up to Loch
Coruisk, into which the Cuillins drop almost vertically.
Keen to ‘bag’ another island we visited Canna, but by next morning the weather
had closed in. Then it was on to Loch Scresort on Rum where we anchored off
Kinlock Castle, an Edwardian pile. We peeked in through the windows of the
drawing room, dining room and library, which had not been altered since the
castle was built in 1897 and were still lavishly furnished in the fashion of the time.
In filthy weather we sailed over to Loch Moidart, where we anchored a few cables
from Castle Tioram, barely visible through the rain and mist. By the time we had
rounded Ardnamurchan Point next morning the clouds had lifted, however, and
we were able to beat down close to the point in fine weather. After a pit stop in
the very convenient new marina at Tobermory we anchored for the night in Loch
Droma Buidhe, anglicised to Drambuie.
We dropped into Loch Aline and Loch Spelve, both delightful anchorages, before
heading up to Port Appin opposite the northern end of Lismore where we picked up a
buoy off the Pier House Hotel. As we were sitting on the beach Eleonora, a 163ft schooner,
came in and anchored off. She is a replica of the Herreshoff schooner Westward, which
was scuttled in the English Channel in 1947. Unbelievably, storm force winds were
forecast, so we headed off to Oban early the next morning pursued by Eleonora.
The Inner Pool, Loch Scavaig
95
In Oban I was joined by a young but stalwart crew – Douglas Byatt, James Gordon
and Ed Burrows – for the 700-odd miles to Itchenor. The forecast storm passed, so we
left on Sunday 22 August and enjoyed a good sail down the Firth of Lorne to anchor
in West Loch Tarbert on Jura. We weighed anchor next morning and motored down
the Sound of Islay, then beat down to the Mull of Kintyre. The forecast was for strong
winds, which materialised off the Mull allowing us to race down the North Channel
to Larne in Northern Ireland. Late the next evening we arrived in Howth, having
covered 110 miles in daylight. We had a lay day in Howth, which gave the crew a
chance to explore Dublin, before the next leg down to Kilmore Quay on Ireland’s
south coast. The tide was particularly favourable, and under a heavily reefed main and
poled-out genoa helped us make 10 knots over the ground. We entered the delightful
little fishing harbour of Kilmore Quay as dusk was falling.
We slipped out of Kilmore at midday, the wind free enough for us to set course direct
to the Scillies. As night fell the full moon came up and it seemed as if Wotan was flying
like an arrow through the water, unwavering on her course. This was Ed’s introduction
to night sailing, and he could hardly have had a better one. By 0900 next morning we
were anchoring in New Grimsby Sound, past Cromwell’s Castle and behind Hangman’s
Island on which some wag had strung up a skeleton on the gibbet.
We had to leave again at 0430 to catch the tide around The Lizard. The moon was
full, and there was barely a cloud in the sky as we set off through the Land’s End traffic
separation scheme and on to Falmouth, continuing next day with a gentle motor across
Plymouth Bay to Salcombe. The high pressure dominating the British Isles meant that
we were blessed with a stable weather pattern, so it seemed more fun to take a leg
across to the Channel Islands and Cherbourg than to beat all the way across Lyme Bay.
We made landfall at Les Hanois on the southwest tip of Guernsey, then had to
motor-sail along the island’s south coast before bearing away and racing the few miles
from St Anthony’s Point to St Peter Port. Next morning we left at 0900 to catch the
tide and had a wonderful beat up through the Alderney Race and into Cherbourg,
where we found an excellent moules frites restaurant on the front and ate ourselves to
a standstill. On departure yet another 0400 start was necessary, as we had to catch the
tide over the Chichester Bar. After a couple of hours under engine, followed by some
fast sailing, we docked at Itchenor Sailing Club jetty at 1720, to be met by Bim and
the family, whom I had not seen for six weeks.
I find the great thing in this world is not so much where we stand,
as in what direction we are moving: To reach the port of heaven,
we must sail sometimes with the wind and sometimes against it
– but we must sail, and not drift, nor lie at anchor.
Oliver Wendel Holmes
96
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98
AN APPRECIATION
Penelope Curtis
Over forty years ago I received a call to say ‘the yachts are in – there are only four
British boats – get here as quickly as you can and bring some girls’. This was my friend
phoning from the Coral Beach Tennis Club, as she knew I had access to a car. I rounded
up those I could contact and drove fast to the club, at all of 20mph, the speed limit
on that small island of Bermuda. This promised to be something different from the
normal round of parties when the Royal Navy was in!
I dropped the girls at the door and went to park the car. On my return I was greeted
by one of the sailors, a charming and enthusiastic chap called George who had just
completed the biennial Newport-Bermuda Race.
Three years
later we were married and my connection with the Ocean
Cruising Club
began. Once or twice a year these super little
magazines fell
onto the doormat, and I would look forward
to the next
instalment of adventures at sea in
small boats.
Over the years I got to know
so many of
the contributors as I
lay under
my duvet
devouring
the pages
describing
the amazing
adventures of
these intrepid
sailors. Often,
as the wind blew
and the waves
got bigger, I crept
further under my
duvet so thankful I
was safe, warm and on
dry land! Later on, with
my husband overseas with
the Army, I remember
worrying about his not
coming home and then how
would I ever get hold of the
Flying Fish again?
I don’t think anyone realised my
limited knowledge of the sea and
99
boats as we had only had a couple of sailing holidays when I was a child. My two brothers
sailed the boat with my father, whilst I was below with my mother housekeeping – or should
I say boatkeeping. My sailing husband had a small boat, and one by one our children were
introduced to sailing. On one occasion as we were being blown towards the mud, the engine
refusing to work, his instructions were ‘cast off the main halyard’ – what did he mean? If
the cry had been get the mainsail down I think I would have known what to do. I let go
the sheet, he the halyard, and the end of the boom dropped into the sea.
The years went by, the boat was now rather bigger, and we had trips over to the north
coast of France. How I dreaded those rough, damp, cold passages across the Channel,
but it was lovely when we arrived and sailed up a river until we ran aground, before
exploring in the dinghy, usually in search of a nice meal.
Penelope and
George in the
Pacific (literally!)
More years passed,
the children were
now grown. One was
now a member of
the OCC and sailing
in Antarctica. My
husband came home
one day with the grin
literally stretching
from ear to ear. He
suggested I should
sit down. What
was coming? vHe
reminded me he had
been helping a work colleague who had sold his house, bought a boat, taken the
children out of school and was setting off round the world. “You aren’t going with
them?” I said, thinking I would not be seeing him for a long time. “No”, he replied,
“we both are – joining them in the Pacific to go island hopping”. “Don’t be ridiculous!
Those islands are hundreds and hundreds of miles apart – I read about them all the
time in Flying Fish”, I replied.
Several months later our daughter saw us off at Heathrow with me still in denial. We
joined our new family in the Kingdom of Tonga where we spent a few days exploring
and getting used to each other. We sailed just before dusk and cleared the reef – the
seas were huge but benign, just great big rolling seas; we climbed up and over the
top and slid down again and, guess what, it was warm, so different from the English
Channel. That night I did my first night watch from 0500 and loved every moment,
especially as my instructions were not to touch anything in case I disturbed the crew!
100
Later on, in Fiji, I said we should find an internet café in order to download the
notes on Vanuatu written by Beth Bushnell for which, I had seen in Flying Fish, she
had received the Water Music Trophy. We found a café and after a great deal of huffing
and puffing managed to get into the site, only to find a picture of a hard hat and a sign
saying ‘under construction’. My husband turned to me and said, “I think I have just
found my retirement project”. We sailed on to Vanuatu, without Beth’s notes, and
then set sail for Darwin calling in at Gove to refuel with beer and diesel.
All these years later and I had qualified to become a member of this quite
extraordinary club, but I did apologise to the Admiral for being a fraud on my qualifying
trip, never having touched the tiller. She was utterly charming, suggesting that there
might be one or two other wives like me! Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine
I would become a member in my own right, a membership I am more proud of than
of my PPL – and since my husband retired there is no time to fly anyway, as we spend
all our summer on the water.
Now I know that my very own copy of the little Flying Fish journal will always drop
through my letterbox and, of course, it is accessible for anyone to enjoy on the OCC
website, thanks to the ‘Retirement Project’.
101
OVER 2000 PROPELLERS
CK
IN STO
d
ou nee
y
n
e
h
w
eller in
p
o
r
p
a
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102
ACROSS THE PACIFIC WITH ALCHEMI
Mike Bickell
(Mike and Alchemi need little introduction, having featured in numerous previous issues.
However new members – or those with short memories – may like to be reminded that Alchemi
is a Crealock 34 and that they completed their first circumnavigation in March 2009.)
Alchemi has now crossed the Pacific twice, first in 2003 and again in 2010. It’s not
possible in the space of one article to do justice to all the many wondrous sights, so in
this issue I shall try just to paint a broad brush picture without being able to go into
much detail about any of the individual places.
Overview and how to access more information
To start this process I’d like to comment on two of my Google maps, both of which have
been uploaded to the club websites – in blogs on my ‘member page’ on the main site, and
on the CIC site as a ‘report on several cruising areas’ for each of the countries visited.
Below is a snapshot of my Pacific Crossing (East) map with additional information,
generated by using the ‘prt sc’ key on my laptop. It should be just possible to make out that
I‘ve created a ‘Sailing’ folder on my bookmarks bar and a sub-folder entitled ‘Grandpa’s
Maps’. Within that sub-folder I’ve placed links to each of the 20 maps that I’ve produced
so far, and all that is superimposed on the map relevant to this article.
It is important to recognise that, when accessing the maps on the club’s website,
or on your own computer if you copy and paste the links, it is possible by zooming-in
to view anchorages in considerable detail and by clicking on the links within each
map to see in the text boxes my comments on the places, and in many cases further
103
links bringing up my photos. So, for example, in this particular map there are detailed
reports on 31 places and 85 individual photos.
A static view of my Pacific Crossing (West) map is reproduced on page 108, this
time without the bookmark bar folders but with a box on the left of the screen
containing extracts from the notes included in the text boxes associated with each
marker. That box is an integral feature of the Google Maps site and can be displayed
or hidden as desired.
So much for that – now to a brief commentary on each of the places visited.
Panama and mainland Ecuador
An account of Alchemi’s experiences in these places is contained in my article Panama
and Mainland Ecuador in Flying Fish 2010/2, so I won’t say any more about them here.
The Galápagos
Alchemi passed about 100 miles south of these islands in 2010 on a direct passage from
Bahía de Caraquez to the Gambier Islands. This decision was based on a visit to San
Cristóbal Island in 2003, and awareness that the cost and regulatory controls had both
increased significantly since then.
It would certainly be a pity to miss out on seeing the islands’ unique fauna during
a first or only crossing, but anyone visiting must now expect to be required to use an
agent, probably to be allowed to visit only one island in their own yacht (as was the
case in 2003), and to experience considerable marketing pressure to incur fees for
commercial cruises and visits to national parks.
In 2003 Wreck Bay on San Cristóbal was a good anchorage, but the Port Captain
and local police were difficult. The ordinary local people were charming and friendly
and the flora and fauna fascinating. Sea lions were abundant and leaped onto local
boats and the promenade, but left their malodorous calling cards everywhere; marine
iguanas crawled over the sands and rocks before diving into the water to munch on
seaweed; Darwin’s finches fluttered about, and the creatures after which the islands
are named (turtles) could be viewed in a special reserve.
My favourite picture is one of a fellow cruiser with her two-year-old daughter
swimming with baby sea lions and their mother, but it doesn’t reproduce very well
– it can be
seen in my
Map.
An old
inhabitant
104
Splendid vistas open all the time on Hiva Oa in the Marquesas
The Marquesas
These are wonderful places with interesting Polynesian remains. Although the anchorages
at Baie des Vierges on Fatu Hiva and near Atuona on Hiva Oa were crowded even in
2003, there are many other islands and anchorages that are further off the beaten track.
Taiohae Bay on Nuku Hiva is a large, natural amphitheatre with spectacular mountain
cliffs rising behind and with more services available than in some other places. The
scenery is wonderful and the Polynesian remains interesting.
Ancient marae and tiki near Pua Mou, Hiva Oa
105
The western approach to the Gambier Islands
The Gambier Islands
These islands are less interesting than the Marquesas and much less frequently
visited. I did think of trying to approach them via Easter and Pitcairn Islands but, as a
singlehander, was discouraged by the poor anchorages at both places and the need to
be prepared to move at short notice should the wind shift. In the end I made a direct
passage from Bahía de Caraquez, which turned out to be Alchemi’s longest in terms of
both distance and time – 3447 miles and 33 days.
There is only one settlement of any size, at Rikitea on Mangareva Island, with just a
few cottages and isolated farms on the other islands. Not that Rikitea is a big smoke –
there is no bank, the post office will change foreign currency notes but won’t give cash
against a credit card, and most of the local small traders will deal only in cash. In the end
I found one small Chinese-owned store that did accept my VISA card to pay for supplies.
Rikitea’s main claim to fame is that it was the centre of Roman Catholicism when
missionaries of that faith first arrived in French Polynesia. Many Polynesians were
killed during construction of a stone cathedral that wouldn’t have disgraced a small
European town, though in this case it was built from blocks hewn out of coral.
I had engine starting problems on leaving but set out towards Raivave in the Austral
Islands, said to be even more spectacular than Bora Bora. However both the Gambier
and the Austral islands are at the southern extremity of French Polynesia, so the
weather is neither as stable nor as benign as it is farther north. A stationary front sat
over my destination, giving me a combination of strong headwinds and calms, and
during the latter I had further difficulty starting the engine to charge batteries. So I
had to abandon that idea and make for the Society Islands instead, where I hoped to
deal with the problem.
The Society Islands
Tahiti is the capital of French Polynesia, and Papeete the capital of Tahiti – Paris in
the Tropics. It is a large city with all facilities, including a hospital where I was treated
in 2003 by French surgeons who repaired my hand after it lost an argument with the
wind generator blades when approaching the Tuamotus (fortunately I had penicillin on
106
board, so things hadn’t deteriorated irrecoverably during the three days it took to get to
hospital at Mamao). In 2010 I walked into a dentistry and had a crown refitted to a front
tooth, after a preliminary root filling, all done without an appointment or any delay.
Taina Marina, near the Carrefour hypermarket, was a modest affair in 2003, with
plenty of anchorage space in the lagoon nearby. By 2010 it was much larger, full, and
moorings now occupied most of the lagoon with those boats able to find space to
anchor being dangerously close to one another.
In 2003 had I left Alchemi in the small marina at Port Phaeton for a month to attend
my son’s wedding in UK and was pleased with the experience, so that was where I headed
in 2010. But it was sadly run-down – a small trimaran dinghy was quietly rotting away
in the same berth it had occupied seven years earlier, the bar/restaurant had gone, and
the few local tradesmen were fully booked for weeks ahead. I did succeed in buying a
new solenoid for the engine starter-motor, and was pleased to move on as soon as that
and a new compressor for the ’fridge had been fitted.
Moorea is another spectacular island with, to my mind, the best view being of the
mountain in Opanohou Bay used in the 1984 version of Mutiny on the Bounty. Alas, where
in 2003 I had been alone when anchoring near the reef entrance, by 2010 there was a
resort ashore and scores of boats at anchor. It was time to move on again double quick.
Huahine was delightful in 2003 and remained so in 2010. It had hardly changed at
all and was not crowded. Furthermore it has a well-stocked supermarket within easy
reach of the town anchorage and interesting Polynesian remains to visit.
Raiatea, seen in the distance from Huahine, is best known to cruisers as an island
on which there are facilities for boat storage during the cyclone season. It is also the
original centre of Polynesian culture in the Pacific, with stones from the Taputapuatea
marae (temples) being carried to islands including Tahiti, Hawaii and New Zealand
during the voyages of discovery and colonisation. Bora Bora became well known due
to its use as an American base in World War 2. These days it is a centre of tourism
with many, many resorts. In 2010 Alchemi gave both these islands a miss in favour of
Oponohu Bay, Moorea
107
The anchorage at Huahine with
Raiatea and Tahaa beyond
calling at Tahaa, famous as a centre for the vanilla industry. It remains quiet and sleepy
with fewer facilities than its neighbouring islands, but is an equally good departure
point for passages west.
The Southern Cook Islands
Since Alchemi called at fewer places in 2010 it is convenient to describe those first.
My original idea was to sail from Tahaa to Aitutaki and thence to New Zealand via
central and southern Tonga, where I’d had less time than I would have liked in 2003.
The first part worked okay, and I arrived off Aitutaki on 13 August 2010 after a passage
of 515 miles in five days. Then my problems started.
My Pacific Crossing (West) map
108
The lagoon is extremely shallow with no natural reef pass – an artificial one just
over half a mile long has been blasted through the coral but it is narrow, shallow and
always has an outward-flowing current. Alchemi stayed outside overnight, but I had
difficulty raising the anchor in the morning due to seabed coral and touched bottom
on a sandbank two-thirds of the way in. Once inside there is enough depth in a bay
adjacent to the harbour for two or three boats to anchor. There is a mobile phone
service, so I was able to call Australia. To my consternation my granddaughters, who
are 8 and 10 years old, told me their divorced mother was in hospital and they were
being looked after by a lady from school.
I immediately booked flights to Melbourne, and secured Alchemi with two shore
lines at the bow and three anchors astern. Turoa and Stephanie Joseph promised to
keep an eye on her – Steph works in the bank which is how I met them – and I can’t
thank them enough for the help they gave me. First I flew to Rarotonga, before going
on to Auckland and Melbourne.
I left Aitutaki on 17 August and returned on 30 September. Alchemi was still there
but had needed the stern anchors when strong winds blew from the west. More engine
starting problems followed – the new solenoid was again gunged-up but was cleared
by a local mechanic.
The unplanned visit to Australia had used up the time allocated for Tonga so, after being
towed out of Aitutaki lagoon by Turoa’s cousin Joseph, I made direct for Whangarei. The
tow was a precaution against touching bottom again and being stranded by the current
on the edge of the channel. It wasn’t completely necessary – at high tide the minimum
clearance below Alchemi’s 1∙7m keel was 0∙1m! – but it was a lot less worrying.
The only abnormal event during the 23 day, 1720 mile passage was a repeat of the
engine starting problem when about 900 miles northwest of New Zealand. I should have
searched more thoroughly for the underlying cause of the problem, which I now found
to be a slow drip from a hose above the starter-motor which had also destroyed relays
Aitutaki harbour
109
in the start and electric stop circuits. I was lying becalmed for about 24 hours when this
happened, so was able to remove the alternator to gain access, and then the starter-motor
to take it apart and clean the solenoid once again. I’d not done it myself before so it was
a tedious and worrying task, but not so concerning as the sound of whales blowing-off all
round the stationary boat in the middle of the night. In the end I got everything back
together and, with a hot-wire start direct to a battery, a bit of string on the decompression
lever and a bandage around the hose, moved off once more.
The ad hoc repair lasted long enough for me to enter Marsden Cove Marina, clear
customs and move from the segregated arrival pontoon to a regular berth. The next
day the engine failed to start – water had penetrated the starter-motor casing and
destroyed the insulation around the internal positive wire to the motor. I was lucky
it hadn’t happened 24 hours earlier when I had needed the engine to motor a couple
of miles up the river.
The engine electrics and hoses have now been replaced and Alchemi remains in
Whangarei having other repair and maintenance work carried out. But, approaching
my 75th birthday and having spent the last fifteen years cruising one and a half times
around the world, I have put her up for sale. So this might be my swansong in Flying
Fish – though that’s by no means certain since she’s not sold yet and I may return to
sail on for a year or two longer. But first a bit more about our 2003 voyage....
Northern Cook Islands
Suvarov deserves a mention. It lies about halfway between the Society Islands and Western
Samoa, and has an anchorage sheltered from the prevailing winds. The only residents
when Alchemi visited were two wardens who lived on the island during the cruising season.
Baker carries out entrance formalities in Suvarov in 2003
110
Baker, Papa John and fellow cruisers enjoy a musical evening in Suvarov
The stop was popular with cruisers who regularly enjoyed fish caught, wrapped in palm
leaves and barbecued by the wardens, accompanied by their own pot-luck contributions
and followed by shared musical evenings. Suvarov was a thoroughly enjoyable place and
the only country I’ve ever visited where I got to stamp my own passport.
Western Samoa
Apia is a charming place. Particularly entertaining is the daily march by about a hundred
members of the police force, with their brass band playing Germanic oompah music,
before raising the national flag on the Government building at 0800 every morning.
I’m a fan of Robert Louis Stevenson’s stories and writing, so one of the reasons for
choosing the Northern route was to visit the home he built near Apia. Vailima is now
a museum, very carefully restored so its rooms and their furnishings are exactly the
way they were when RLS and Fanny lived there.
Morning Parade at Apia in Western Samoa
111
Sunday lunch with Thea,
Nico and their children
Tonga
Niuatoputapu, Tonga’s most northerly island, is in many ways its most attractive.
It is quite remote, being serviced by a supply ship just once every three months.
Practically all the islanders attend Sunday service in the Methodist church and render
unaccompanied Wesleyan hymns in perfect pitch and with wonderful voices. Amongst
the most friendly and hospitable were Nico and Thea, who invited me back to their
home for Sunday lunch.
The harbour at Nuku Alofa, capital of Tonga
112
Niuatoputapu, Tonga – Tafahi’s
perfect cone is visible for miles
In comparison I found the islands in the Vava’u Group better known but less pleasing
to visit – perhaps because it is a centre for yacht charter companies so there was less
feeling of being a bit of an explorer in one’s own right. Also, the trade winds were
blowing particularly strongly and we had gales for several days running, with the main
compensation being the sight of a whale breaching not far away. Once again the best
bit was the wonderful singing in the cathedral on Sunday.
At this time I was accompanied by two friends from New Zealand who needed to get
home, so we didn’t have time to explore the Ha’Apai Group, staying just two nights
at anchor off Nomuka where we traded for fruit and vegetables with three young men
paddling a small dinghy with branches from a coconut palm.
Tonga’s capital, Nuku Alofa, felt like a centre of civilisation after the more remote
places visited since leaving French Polynesia. Stern-to mooring in the fishing harbour
was very sheltered and convenient for getting supplies from town. Water was a little
more problematic, as ordinary supplies came from bore-holes and had a quite high
mineral content. We found a tank containing rainwater piped from the roof of a large
building to be less tainted.
Trading for fruit
and vegetables
at Nomuka
113
Minerva Reef
Sovereignty over this reef, which lies a couple of hundred miles southwest of Tongatapu,
has been claimed over the years by both Fiji and Tonga. At the time of writing in early
2011 the dispute is rather active, with both sides threatening to support their claim with
the use of force, so cruisers are advised to keep away. However in 2003 it was possible to
visit and hopefully that will be the case again in due course. The reef is awash at high
tide, but encloses and protects a lagoon in which it is possible to anchor. It is certainly
an unusual experience to lie at anchor and see no land in any direction but to be able
to walk on the reef at low tide. The fishing is excellent, and that is believed to be one
of the reasons for the fierceness of the dispute between the claimant countries.
Mid-ocean anchorage at Minerva Reef North
New Zealand
In 2003 the choice of arrival port on the north coast of North Island was between
Auckland and Opua in the Bay of Islands, with the latter being favoured by cruisers.
Whangarei is now a third option, with a customs dock at Marsden Cove Marina at
the mouth of the river. The town is closer to Auckland’s big city facilities but is quite
a long way upriver. It has a wider choice of supplies and skills than Opua for both
people and yachts, but the surroundings are less attractive.
In 2003/04 Alchemi stayed in New Zealand for seven months, visiting most places
along the north coast from the western side of the Coromandel Peninsula via the
Hauraki Gulf and Great Barrier Island to Mangonui at the southern end of
Ninety Mile Beach. She left in early June for a cruise of Fiji, Vanuatu and
New Caledonia before reaching Bundaberg, Australia at the end of 2004.
But there’s no space left to describe that voyage here...
114
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116
FLOOD!
David Friesen
(For more information about David, Linda and their 42ft steel cutter Toketie see Arrival
in Australia, also in this issue.)
Burnett River, Bundaberg, Australia – December 2010
Without a doubt this has been one of the more difficult Christmases aboard Toketie.
Being on the other side of the world away from family and friends is hard enough,
though more bearable nowadays with e-mail and Skype to make you feel closer. No,
this year it was the circumstances in which we found ourselves.
We were moored in the river in downtown Bundaberg, enjoying the luxury of hot
showers – or cold when the humidity went over 90% and the breeze stopped – and
being able to walk into town and wander through air-conditioned malls to buy our
groceries. We had also met some wonderful people, through contact with OCC
Port Officers Fred and Lesley Grimminck. We were busy as well. As always there
was a list of maintenance jobs – getting the new wind instruments repaired, trying
to solve the mainsail track problem,
and of course the routine daily chores
of cooking and cleaning. We had been
out to restaurants a few times with
moderate success, and the fresh prawns
and scallops from the fishing boats at
the marina are a treat.
Then the heavy rains which plagued
the east coast of Queensland in late
2010, causing much flooding, finally
reached us on our moorings in the river.
The Burnett River before the flood,
With a particularly high tide and a spill
with Toketie at centre
of water from the dams upstream, our
buoys were submerged and the mooring lines under strain, so we had them move us
from the centre of the stream to near the edge where the current, though still powerful,
was not quite as strong. Debris floating downriver from the fields upstream and getting
caught up in mooring
lines lifted four
boats, moorings and
all, and floated them
downstream in a tangle
of hulls and rigging.
The submerged
dinghy landing ramp
117
Clearing debris from
entangled boats
For a time we were
safe at the edge of the
river, but the rains
were relentless and,
three days before
Christmas, the water
got so high they
began moving boats
out of the marina.
The marina itself was
flooded, and the fuel
dock and main wharf
cut off. Boats were again breaking loose and colliding with others downstream, tearing
them from their moorings – it was a mess, with more rain forecast and no-one willing
or able to say how high the waters might go. One by one the fishing boats and local
pleasure craft headed downriver to escape whatever might be coming.
23 December
1430 : With the last two hours of falling tide we dropped our stern lines and I motored
into the 5 knot current to give Linda enough slack to let the bow lines go. Our $200
worth of heavy mooring lines were attached about 2m below the river surface, but
we hoped to retrieve them another day. We pointed the bow into mid channel and
gunned the engine to give us control in the strong current. Huge clumps of grass, mud
and branches floated everywhere on the surface.
To add to our worries the marine radio had been reporting for days that many of the
buoys marking the channel were out of position due to the flooding. So we ran like
smoke and oakum, blind, downstream, hoping the high water would get us over the
shallow bars – and all on a falling tide. Not the best of situations, but our only option
was to get to the river’s mouth.
1530 : It was a fast ride, and we covered the eight miles in less than an hour. At a bend
about half a mile from where the river
empties into the big, shallow Hervey
Bay we pulled off into a corner which
we thought was out of the mainstream,
and with Toketie’s 60hp straining
against the current managed to get our
anchor into the bottom.
Floating debris
118
We sat up all night taking turns on anchor watch. Huge clumps of debris were
coming down the river, capable of dragging the boat if caught in the anchor chain,
so we cleared the bits with a boathook as they arrived. We were holding, however,
and safely out of the worst of the stream. I watched a small sloop ghost by under the
full moon as she dragged her anchor – with no-one aboard she made her way around
a bend and probably lodged among some moored boats. Later a huge trimaran drifted
by, also deserted and unlit. It became caught up on a yacht and a small powerboat,
later breaking all of them free. The group was last seen drifting out to sea. We were
lucky nothing ran into us.
The entangled
trimaran
24 December
Next day we called the marina at the river-mouth, but there was no room at the inn
so we re-anchored at the edge of the river in about 20ft of water. There was no wifi
signal, so no internet, and no cell phone – just the VHF for emergency contact. There
was nowhere to land the dinghy, but the current was too strong for that anyway.
We spent Christmas Eve confined on board, exhausted from constant vigilance to the
floating lumps coming down the river. More rain and strong wind warnings were forecast
over the next few days, so we expected to be stuck there until the flooding subsided. The
option of running out to sea was dangerous as it would take us into the large, shallow
Hervey Bay, and with strong wind warnings turning from southeast to northwest that
would be very exposed. Not knowing the local hurricane holes did not help.
119
The good news was that Linda managed to find half a dozen bottles of an excellent
Wolf Blass Silver Label Pinot Grigio which we had squirrelled away for the holidays.
So as we sat in the torrential tropical downpours watching the river flow, we could at
least raise a toast to family and friends far away!
25 December
0430 : Just as dawn was breaking a large raft of floating debris struck our anchor chain.
The clump of sod, weeds and grass wrapped around the chain, pulling the bow down
and causing Toketie to drag her anchor slowly downstream. I worked frantically with
the extending boathook, and after 45 minutes managed to break the debris into pieces,
which took enough of the strain off the anchor chain for us to stop our drift between
two unoccupied boats which had been anchored behind us. We raised the anchor and
motored forward, re-anchoring where we had been before.
1430 : When the tide changed, easing the flow, we decided to move to a spot which we
thought might be out of the main current and free of floating debris. But while lifting
the anchor the bow swung, putting enough weight on the chain to rip the windlass half
out of the foredeck. Fortunately it still turned, however, and we got the gear up and
reset close to a row of pilings, near a row of moorings most of which had boats attached.
Unfortunately, when the tide began to ebb and the current doubled we dragged again.
Michael on Eliza, which was hanging on two anchors close to the shore, rowed
over in his ‘tinny’, caught on to Toketie and climbed aboard. As we drifted slowly
backwards, dragging our anchor, I motored again to ease the pressure. Brendan, aboard
Jorga moored fore-and-aft behind us, kindly tossed us one of his stern lines which we
eased back onto to hang off the mooring behind him. Heavy rain continued to fall.
26 December
0330 : With the tide halfway through the ebb and the current building, Brendan’s
single frayed mooring line was all that was holding us. I started the engine and motored
forward for three hours to ease the strain on the line.
1000 : The flood tide slowed the current to about 3 knots, so I launched the dinghy
with its 5hp outboard and motored forward to attach a line to Jorga. Using the line
to hold me, Brendan eased me back downstream where I attached a second mooring
line so that Toketie was hanging off a 2-ton concrete block on double mooring lines.
Then I dropped back down to Toketie and attached an aft mooring line from her stern
to the mooring behind us. Secured fore-and-aft, we felt confident that we could take
the strain of the increasing current.
27 December
0330 : In fact the drama was just beginning, as two yachts which became entangled
further upstream dragged down on us. One was an unmanned catamaran which broke
loose and crossed over a beautiful Hans Christian named Cloud Nine, locking them
in a permanent embrace.
120
v
0330, and Cloud Nine and
a catamaran become entangled
Ian aboard Cloud Nine deployed every anchor he had, and still the current pushed
them back until they collided with Jorga, ahead of Toketie. They stabilised there
temporarily, until another unmanned steel boat came loose and collided with them,
moving Jorga’s 2-ton mooring block back so that her stern was in contact with our
forward mooring buoy. The steel boat then came free and scraped its way along
Cloud Nine until it floated off downstream. It was still dark, so I couldn’t see where
it ended up.
With that pressure off, Cloud Nine and the catamaran slowly drifted back past Jorga,
threatening to hook Toketie on the way. I cut our stern line and pushed the rudder hard
over to keep us far enough to starboard to allow the tangled mess to clear us. With the
tide ebbing the current was running strongly again, and our mooring lines led off the
roller and under the bobstay. If we continued this way for long it threatened to chafe
through the lines holding us.
As daylight came the wind turned northwest and, without a stern line, Toketie started
sailing on her hull surface upwind and into Jorga. I could not leave the helm and had
great difficulty keeping from running over Jorga against the easing tide.
0800 : Linda got on the VHF and called Port Bundaberg Marina at the mouth of
the river to see if we could get a berth – or even get Toketie hauled out. The marina
told us they might have a berth coming free, as a boat was scheduled to leave, and
said they would let us know in an hour after contacting the owners. An hour later we
called back to be told the boat was not leaving, but they said they had another berth
we could use if we were willing to pay for one longer than our boat. At that point it
did not seem a good idea to quibble!
121
Before attempting to extricate ourselves from the moorings I offered to help Cloud
Nine and the catamaran entangled immediately astern of us to secure to the mooring
behind us. This was easier said than done, as the current was stronger than our 5hp
outboard could handle. At this point the owner of the catamaran arrived with a better
dinghy and 9hp outboard, with which he was barely able to stem the current. I dropped
a line downstream to them, and he hung off his dinghy attaching mooring lines to the
catamaran, stopping their downstream drag.
While attempting to leave our mooring in the 30 knot gusts and opposing current,
we sailed over our lines and managed to wrap them around the keel. I cut one mooring
line, put the helm hard over to port, and Linda cut the second line, freeing us and
sending us out into the channel away from Jorga and the Cloud Nine debacle. With full
throttle and the strong tail wind we could just make headway upstream to get around
the row of pilings and into the main river channel. As we turned to run downstream
with the current Toketie was doing 6½ knots, slowed by the strong headwind. The
marina was only a mile away, and in no time we were alongside and getting directions
to our berth. With help from the marina staff we secured Toketie in her berth, and
breathed a huge sigh of relief to be safely out of the river channel.
29 December
For us the worst is over. But even as I write this our friends and many others are still
out on the river tucked into any nook or cranny or hanging off their moorings. The
flood waters continue to rise, more heavy rain has fallen, and boats upstream continue
to break loose and fly downstream like loose cannons. The entire Midtown Marina
is underwater and the main jetties and fuel dock have broken loose and are floating
downstream. These huge, heavy sections, along with large clumps of floating debris, are
striking boats
hanging on to
whatever they
can. The flood
has apparently
broken waterlevel records
going back
to the 1940s
and is still
rising. La
Niña has been
very cruel to
Australia this
year!
122
Postscript
Brendan and his wife Marina are part of the close circle of cruising friends we have
made in our short time here. He remained alone aboard Jorga for eleven days, his
efforts not only saving their boat but helping to save others as well. Ian managed to
free Cloud Nine from the catamaran, but then discovered her anchor was fouled on the
moorings. It was another week before he managed to clear it, and the last we heard he
was heading out of the river and down to the beaches off Fraser Island!
I think the biggest lesson – one which we learn over and over again – is that as
cruisers we are ultimately responsible for the safety and wellbeing of both crew and
boat. It would have been nice to have had more warning of the dangerous potential
of the rising floodwaters, but it seems that this one caught everyone by surprise and
people tended, optimistically, to believe it would stop rising.
We were more fortunate than many. The latest official count gave twenty boats
sunk and seven still missing. Other were left stranded high and dry on the riverbanks.
With hindsight we should have left the downtown moorings much sooner and secured
a berth in the safety of the marina at the mouth of the river – but hindsight, as we
know, is only useful in preparing us for the next challenge!
Not all were as fortunate as Toketie...
~~~~~~~~~~
Editor’s note: Most of David’s photographs – several taken on a mobile phone – have
been reproduced either at the size they were received or slightly enlarged. With so
much else to think about it’s impressive that he had time to take photographs at all.
123
MY YACHT DESIGNS AND THE LESSONS THEY TAUGHT ME – Chuck
Paine. Published in hardback by ChuckPaine.com Publications [www.ChuckPaine.
com] at $59.95 ($76 including postage to the UK). 275 29cm x 21cm pages, full
colour photos throughout. ISBN 978-0-6153-4993-0
Over the past thirty-something years Chuck Paine has become one of the most admired
and respected yacht designers in the English-speaking world. In America he might
well be the most respected. Paine designs run the gamut from stout double-enders to
sleek thoroughbreds, from the handy daysailer to the luxurious voyaging megayacht,
with a number of motor yachts to his credit as well. His cruising yachts are graceful
performers which simply look right.
Many of Chuck Paine’s designs are custom creations for individual clients. Others
have filled the lines of quality builders such as Victoria and Bowman in the UK
and Able and Morris in the US. At this point a disclosure is in order – one of those
custom designs is our own Anasazi, built in the early 1990s and among the eighty or so
described in this book. Our experience with Chuck Paine was exciting and educational
if not entirely smooth, but whatever the bumps in the road, we were immediately
and continually impressed by his ability to give his ‘attention to the owners’ wishes
... without imposing their own egos too strongly into the matter’. The results of that
flexibility and focus are amply illustrated in My Yacht Designs.
The book is a design compendium, but it is also much more than that. Each design
has a story of what was attempted and what was achieved – and the stories have stories,
because interwoven with the design stories is the narrative of the Chuck Paine design
practice, its business challenges, its struggles and triumphs, its growth and near disasters.
And inseparably entwined in the professional story is the story of Chuck Paine’s life,
with anecdotes ranging from the Peace Corps in Iran to a misadventure in a rented
aeroplane. The result is an integrated whole. When I picked up the book I expected
to leaf through it, merely sampling the designs which interested me. I ended up closely
reading the whole book, absorbing the boats, the philosophy and the lessons.
Ah yes, the title promises lessons. There are 153 of them, sprinkled through the text,
picked out in blue type and summarised in an appendix. They range from the insightful –
‘A sail plan with a large main and a small jib adjusts itself to upwind vs downwind sailing’,
to the banal, ‘You get what you pay for’, and from the technical ‘A Scrimp laminate is
heavier than the alternative’ to the businesslike ‘Never put pen to paper without getting
paid for it’. You will marvel at some, you will disagree with others.
124
There are a number of books which chronicle the work of eminent yacht designers,
and they are valuable. But a book that describes (and beautifully illustrates) the
designs and their objectives, plus the designer’s thoughts and methods, plus the
development of an actual design practice in late 20th century, all in the designer’s
own words – that book is a rare treasure.
At this point in a review it is customary to note the deficiencies of an otherwise
excellent book, and I will name two. First, there is no index, nor does the Table of
Contents identify individual designs. So if you want to look up the details of the Victoria
34, wet your thumb and start turning pages. Second, while there is an excellent table of
basic statistics for each design, the drawings vary. When you read, ‘I’d vee the forward
sections a bit more, and at the same time narrow the entry angle a degree or two,’ your
eye instinctively shifts to find the lines drawing which, in this case, is absent.
But those are quibbles. If you are a cruising sailor, read this book. If you are also
thinking of acquiring a cruising yacht, or you have an interest in yacht design, buy it.
Like Chuck Paine’s yachts, it is a classic.
GS
REEDS SUPERYACHT MANUAL – James Clarke. Published in hardback by
Adlard Coles Nautical [www.adlardcoles.com] at £40.00. 400 234 x 156mm pages
in full colour throughout. ISBN 978-1-4081-2-2761
Most of us would like to be paid to go yachting, especially if the income was tax free
into a not-too-dodgy overseas bank. Reading this book would be a good way to start,
as it’s a guide to being a professional yacht skipper, mate or deckhand. It does have
some omissions – such as how a paid hand should deal with an owner’s scanty-bikini
clad eager daughter. The answer, of course, may be to marry her, but that’s outside the
scope of this wide-ranging technical book.
The areas it does cover include safety, navigation, meteorology, radio, regulations
and so on and on. With so many pages the author has been able to cover the
elementary as well as the sophisticated aspects of the many subjects. This makes
Reeds Superyacht Manual a handy guide for anyone starting out on what might be
called advanced cruising. It is also a wonderful aide mémoire for creekies who are
just a tiny bit baffled by the tsunami of regulations which flood forth from so many
sources, including parliaments north and south of Hadrian’s Wall, from Brussels,
and from the often-conflicting European parliaments. Ever more rules keep coming
from organisations which are known by their initials, though surely most of the
working world has long ago forgotten what the letters mean. Test yourself, if you
have a moment! What do IALA, ISM, SOLAS, ISPS, STCW, and MARPOL
stand for? Clearly the paid skipper does not have the easiest job as he has to not just
know the full meaning of these monsters, but also how and when they apply. Even
125
if you have rattled knowingly through these acronyms, can youh tell the practical
differences between IALA A and IALA B?
Reading this book is a pleasure, because it reminds those of us who started sailing
with a government surplus compass and a home-made lead line just how much there is
to know these days. However there is nothing here about how to cope with an owner’s
drunk wife, or what one does when the owner’s zillions of pounds or dollars disappear
in a major bankruptcy. But there is a mass of data about subjects like radar, tropical
storms, corrosion control, contract law and on and on. Some of the paragraphs are
disconcerting: Did you know that if your yacht is over 12m LOA long you should be
displaying notices showing garbage disposal requirements? The garbage management
plan [!!!] designates persons in charge of effecting the plan and includes procedures for
collecting, sorting, processing, storing and disposing of garbage, much of which must
be recorded. I was thinking of going for a bigger boat, but I shall be careful to make
sure it’s inside the critical 12m.
IN
NORTH AFRICA – revised by Graham Hutt for the RCC Pilotage Foundation
(fourth edition). Published in hardback by Imray Laurie Norie & Wilson Ltd [www.
imray.com] at £39.50. 300 A4-sized pages (most featuring at least one harbour
plan and photograph, frequently several), in full colour throughout. ISBN 9781-8462-3281-7
I have never been to North Africa, which I find surprising given the amount of
business travel I did before I retired. Neither did I have plans to go to North Africa
by sea, until I picked up a copy of this book at a Christmas fayre. I am planning to
cruise from the UK to New Zealand starting this summer. We had settled on the
well-trodden Falmouth-Madeira-Canaries-Caribbean passage, but watching the
2010 weather had already convinced me to go further south, via the Cape Verdes.
Graham Hutt’s book has now led me further east, to Morocco at least. He makes it
sound fascinating and accessible.
I confess that I like the RCC Pilotage Foundation’s output. It is at once thorough
and to the point, and this book is no exception. However I always struggle to orient
myself in these guides – to work out how to navigate around them. In this edition there
is a clear tabulation at the beginning of each section and a box inset in each entitled,
for example, ‘Order of Moroccan Ports’ which gets you centred pretty quickly. If that
is not yet standard in other RCC publications I commend it to them. I also like the
tabulated summary of navigational information at the beginning of each port entry –
particularly the distances to nearby ports. Very helpful.
The average cruising yacht today is much bigger than even twenty years ago. We
draw 2∙7m (7ft 9in) and approach 18m (60ft) overall, so my first consideration is,
126
‘Will I be able to get in and will I be welcome if I do?’ It is a question which I did not
find easy to answer on first reading. Even having read the book again I still hanker for
a direct discussion with Graham around some of his ‘throw away’ comments. I would
welcome an ‘idiot’s guide’ in each section, setting out a possible passage itinerary for
yachts drawing over, say, 2∙0m.
Graham has expressly extended the brief of this book to identify the key local
sightseeing opportunities. That is helpful and to be encouraged, and is perhaps an area
to be expanded in the fifth edition. He has also included a brief summary of the local
history of each area by way of context. While well-intentioned, this is not a tourist
guide and it is hard to give a proper account of an area in 1000 words. To be frank,
you either want to read about the history, or you don’t. If you do, 1000 words is not
enough – there are plenty of other more detailed sources.
This edition covers Gibraltar (conveniently) all the North African coast (Morocco,
Algeria, Tunisia and Libya) and also, curiously, Malta and the Pelagie Islands. (I say
curiously, because I would have thought of them in the context of Sicily/Italy rather
than Africa, but that just goes to show what I know). It includes significant updates
on the Atlantic coast of Morocco and a new section on Libya, on which it is clear
that Graham is something of an evangelist, seeking to open up the area for cruising
and lobbying the authorities to expand facilities.
In reading NORTH AFRICA, particularly as regards Morocco, I have compared
it with other sources. For instance, Graham counsels that baksheesh is inevitable in
dealing with officialdom. I appreciate that he is simply trying to prepare the reader to
expect the request, but even having spent four years in Nigeria I have never needed
to pay anyone, save for a tip to someone I had already engaged to provide a service.
I was struck by Lisa Copeland’s account of their Moroccan cruise which reached a
similar conclusion.
All in all this is another fine example of the RCC Pilotage Foundation’s excellent
output. I like the format and find it accessible, though it would be improved by a
section dealing with cruising for larger yachts and by ceasing to compete with tourist
guides. Only time will tell whether I have to pay baksheesh – but believe me, if I have
to, I am prepared for it!
DC
DOLPHINS UNDER MY BED – Sandra Clayton. Published in paperback by
Adlard Coles Nautical [www.adlardcoles.com] at £8.99. 284 A5-sized pages with
one chartlet but no photographs or other illustrations. ISBN 978-1-4081-3288-3
This account of a first long-distance cruise from the UK to Menorca, visiting twentyfour French, Spanish and Portuguese ports en route, doesn’t at first glance seem the
sort of book that would be relevant to the average OCC member. I must admit
127
that my first thought was, ‘they didn’t get very far!’. In the hands of a less talented
author this minute-by-minute account would probably be rather tedious, but Sandra
Clayton writes so entertainingly that the result is surprisingly enjoyable. She must
either be a compulsive diary-writer or be blessed with total recall, however, as the
most fleeting impressions are described in detail and many lengthy conversations
recounted verbatim.
Initially a reluctant sailor, Sandra gradually gained confidence in their 40ft catamaran
Voyager – a vessel which seems to have had all the modern comforts, including an
iron for their laundry! She and her husband decided to take early retirement to go
cruising while they still could, but it appears that it took Sandra a little time to relax
into the cruising lifestyle. Seen through the eyes of a relative novice, experiences such
as dolphins around the boat make a deep impression, and Sandra conveys the wonder
very convincingly. Where this book might really come into its own is in encouraging
aspiring cruisers to keep the dream alive, even though it may not immediately be
possible, and in persuading those who are dubious about long-term cruising at least
to give it a trial.
It only gradually becomes apparent that the voyage described in Dolphins under my
Bed took place about twelve years ago, and there is nothing to tell you whether the
Claytons continued cruising, although the author hinted that they would like to. If
they did they must surely be seasoned sailors by now – though not, unfortunately,
OCC members!
EHMH
THE MARINE QUARTERLY, A Journal of the Sea. Published four times a year
by The Marine Quarterly, The Hope, Lyonshall, Kington, Herefordshire HR5
3HT, 01544 340636, editor@marinequarterly.com, www.marinequarterly.com,
at £40.00 per annum. 111 21cm x 14cm pages with black and white sketches.
ISBN 2045-8959
What do OCC Members do when a copy of the Flying Fish arrives on their mat? They
read it avidly, then, realising that there are several months to go before another issue,
they nip off across a couple of oceans and get back home in time for the next little
bundle of delight to come through the post. It would be so wonderful if there was
another magazine available, a cousin as it were, to fill in the arid months between the
twice-yearly Flying Fishes. Now there is. It’s the same size as FF, so it fits into a side
pocket handily, and the first issue is packed with fourteen fascinating chapters. They
range widely, from ‘How to Take a Prize’ (so useful if one wishes to turn the tables on
pirates) to ‘Stars and Waves’ (so helpful if the GPS runs out of amps), and from ‘One
Man and His Boat’ to ‘Crossing the Straits of Messina’ by George Millar.
The editor is Sam Llewellyn, celebrated for his nautical novels including a good
128
sequel to The Riddle of the Sands, backed by a bunch of contributors extending across
the maritime sphere. There’s a deeeeliciously catty book review, there’s nostalgia, there’s
pure fun like the chapter on how to run a coal-fired steam vessel, there’s ... oh go and
buy your own copy! I’m off to have a long hot bath and read my copy half submerged
– after all it’s a magazine based on water, so where better to read it?
IN
REEDS NAUTICAL ALMANAC ONLINE SERVICE. Based on REEDS
NAUTICAL ALMANAC – Rob Buttress. Published in soft covers by Adlard
Coles Nautical [www.adlardcoles.com] at £39.99. 1088 27cm x 19cm pages, with
full colour harbour charts. ISBN 978-1-4081-2739-1
REEDS NAUTICAL ALMANAC is now available as a download. It shouldn’t surprise
anyone that Reeds would follow the rest of the printed world and go digital. Now, for
the first time, the entire Almanac, in all of its variations, is available as a download and
will fit on a memory stick in your pocket. Via www.reedsnauticalalmanac.co.uk it will
also be possible to download up-to-the-minute changes. The paper Almanac includes
corrections up until June of the previous year (ie June of 2010 for a 2011 Almanac)
whereas the online version will be updated in real time. If a buoy has been changed
its position will be updated – at least in a perfect world.
When the printed version is purchased a security code is included which allows you
to access the website containing the digital format of the almanac. You can set up a
‘homepage’ with things like your home port and harbours you may visit frequently.
The website automatically accesses a live weather feed via the UK Met Office for
your home port, and will provide you with the applicable shipping forecast as well as
a three-day synoptic chart, viewable in twelve hour intervals.
While most of us are quite capable of doing our own passage planning, the online
version has the ability to pull together nautical data quickly and automatically. The
tidal flow charts can now be viewed as an animation in one hour increments. The
printed chartlets in the almanac can be viewed at three different scales, from approach
to a harbour or estuary to a scale including only the marina.
Reeds (Adlard Coles Nautical) provides data sets to some of the larger electronic
charting companies, so the merging of the Almanac, chart plotting and the internet
can only be a couple of years away. While the current Reeds only covers as far south
as Gibraltar, they are having discussions with a company which would give coverage
up to and including Greece. Similarly, talks are underway to cover both the east and
west coasts of the United States. Whether or not you are trusting enough to rely
solely on the electronic version, having access through the internet to the Reeds
website is a powerful tool.
MWS
129
IMRAY DIGITAL CHART ID100 EASTERN CARIBBEAN – Electronic charts
for the the Virgin, Leeward and Windward Islands, plus Barbados and Tobago.
Published by Imray Laurie Norie & Wilson Ltd [www.imray.com] at £74.95. ISBN
978-1-8462-3270-1
It should be noted at the outset that while reviewing this digital chart package I did not
have the benefit of being onboard a vessel with a live GPS feed. I was therefore unable
to check out all the features or to run a hands-on navigational experience. I normally
run a Raymarine C80 Chartplotter using Navionics digital charts, which I have been
happy with since installing it four years ago. The system is well documented and is very
intuitive. I have also had the opportunity to dabble with C-Map and Open CPN software,
and again I found this user-friendly. The Imray package seems less amenable.
Initially I thought this was a matter of documentation, but quickly concluded there
was a more basic issue. It soon became apparent that the Imray package is a set of
on-screen versions of their paper charts. Rather than looking at a continuous digital
space we are looking a set of chart-defined areas, amongst which we must frequently
move. The electronic charts themselves are raster type, thus all levels of zoom show
just the same detail at a different scale. Yes, there are navigation tools, but these come
over as add-ins rather than as being the core of a well thought out system of navigatorcentred functionality.
With both Navionics and C-Map a click of the mouse centres the charts at any point
of interest, requiring only scaling to bring up the desired degree of detail, but this is
not possible with Imray. There are chart boundaries on Navionics and C-Map, but
these do not determine the navigator’s mode of working as they do with Imray. Chart
selection is by chart number or title, each new chart coming up at an unhelpfully small
scale, necessitating immediate zooming in order to see anything useful.
It is possible to lay out a route, though continually having move from one chart
to another to do so does not make this easy. One could use multiple windows, but I
feel the need to do this only underlines the complexity of the task. When following a
route I normally use my cockpit repeater, which gives bearing and distance to the next
waypoint with boat course and speed indicated immediately below. It is an easy matter
to keep the bearing and heading sensibly the same and, knowing where the dangers
lie, to ensure that any error is on the safe side. A pdf on Imray’s website suggests that a
similar approach is possible with this package, but it appears that the data presentation
would be more cluttered than I am used to.
I am a fan of Imray charts, which I consider clear, comprehensive and relatively
inexpensive. I tend to carry medium-scale versions of these as a back-up to my electronic
system, on the basis that with a position from a handheld GPS – or even from my
seldom-used sextant – they would enable me to find my way to a safe harbour. An
advantage of the Imray charts is that each one generally includes several large-scale
port plans to aid entry once close in. From my limited perusal of this digital package
it would appear that this is what it would be useful for, to me at any rate. Given that
the package provides detailed coverage of everything from Puerto Rico to Trinidad
130
the price is very reasonable. It is also most helpful that information can be printed off
as required for reference in the cockpit, something the other systems do not facilitate.
AS
ANCHORING – Bobby Schenk. Published in soft covers by Adlard Coles Nautical
[www.adlardcoles.com] at £14.99. 112 pages with many colour photographs and
drawings. ISBN 978-1-4081-2944-9
This beautifully produced book is by an author who has, to quote the publicity material
‘... circumnavigated the globe several times, once without any modern navigation
instruments’. One good thing about such wide experience is that it implants in the
mind the essential need to be able to anchor in awkward places, and to get away from
such locations swiftly when the weather gets brutal. These matters are dealt with well.
However a careful examination of the front of this book shows that it was originally
published in German, and it has lost something in the translation. For instance the
word ‘cringle’ is used when the author clearly means ‘thimble’. When the author wants
to say the anchor should be recovered, or hauled aboard, the translator has used the
word ‘receive’, and when it comes to anchors with and without stocks the translator
suffers badly from a lack of technical expertise. It is sad that the translator has used the
phrase ‘stock anchor’ when the author means ‘fisherman anchor’. It is also confusing
that the author appears to think that folding fisherman anchors are relatively new,
whereas everyone in the world of sailing knows they were certainly about when Nelson
was getting seasick. The author dislikes folding fisherman anchors, but he would surely
change his tune if he had read the late Francis Herreschoff on this type of anchor
because surely no-one has written so much good sense, backed by science.
There are lots of sensational colour photos, but it’s hard to be enthusiastic about
the diagrams which appear to be computer generated. On page 81 some nincompoop
is seen recovering an anchor over the side of a dinghy. This is a swift way to tipping
the dinghy over, and obviously much less effective than breaking the anchor out by
having the rope or chain over the stern, when the whole length of the dinghy can be
used as a lever. More importantly, the chances of the dinghy capsizing are reduced by
a factor which must be well over a hundred. This sketch is doubly baffling because
the caption says the anchor is ‘hauled via a trip line’, but there is no trip line in the
drawing. Is this another case of a computer defeating its operator?
A great strength of ANCHORING is the numerous descriptions of different anchor
models, including some of the very latest. It’s well known that every yachtsman and
woman disagrees with every other person afloat on every aspect of every anchor type.
The author of this book dislikes the Danforth because, he writes, it is hard to stow. This
reviewer has spent a lot of his life on the foredecks of assorted vessels in every kind of
weather and he loves the Danforth, partly because it is flat almost all over and can be
131
walked over, sat on and, if things are getting hairy, it makes a great toe-rail or hand-rail
provided it is properly chocked and lashed down. Despite all these criticisms, this book
is packed with much good sense and reflects the considerable experience of the author.
IN
THE BOAT MAINTENANCE BIBLE: Refit, Improve and Repair with the Experts
– Pat Manley and Rupert Holmes. Published in hardback by Adlard Coles Nautical
[www.adlardcoles.com] at £29.99. 288. 303 pages all in full colour throughout.
ISBN 978-1-4081-2479-6
When this handsome book arrived for me to review, its subject, format and ‘feel’
tripped a memory about another book on my shelves. A couple of minutes later I had
The Compleat Book of Yacht Care by Michael Verney in my hands – also, as it happens,
published by Adlard Coles and also a beautifully produced book. I had bought it along
with my first boat, a rather tatty Contessa 26 which needed a lot of work from its
inexperienced and unskilled new owner. That was 25 years ago, but my copy of Verney
is still pristine. Nigel Calder’s Marine Diesel Engines (again from Adlard Coles’s list)
fell from the shelves at the same time, a subsequent purchase to Verney but now very
tatty and with pages peppered by oily fingerprints. There’s the rub, I thought. Both
beautiful books but oceans apart in information content, resulting in one sitting on
the shelf and the other open next to the job in hand.
And so I feared it would be with The Boat Maintenance Bible, which surely is a
successor to Verney and promises to be a comprehensive treatment of both sail and
powerboat maintenance including dinghies, outboards and safety aids. Comprehensive
in its scope it certainly is, moving from Tools, Cleaning, Hull and Deck Repairs, and
Painting and Varnishing Techniques through General Mechanics, Electrics, Engine
Maintenance and on to chapters specialising in different types of craft.
Clear language is used to discuss each topic, with boxes to help separate lists from
the rest of the text. In addition there are many, mainly useful, photographs and a few
informative drawings. The quality of the production certainly draws the reader in, and
read it I did hoping to find my preconceptions wrong. Wiring System and Earthing looked
promising. Earthing in a boat is complex, with issues of bonding for electrolysis, lightning
protection and connection to shoreside AC ground to consider. This would certainly act
as a test. Unfortunately the word ‘earth’ featured only twice – once in the title and then
to point out that mains cables have three wires one of which is ‘earth’.
Preconception proved, I’m afraid. Many copies of The Boat Maintenance Bible are
bound to arrive with OCC members as Christmas or birthday presents, not least because
its such a pretty book – but it is likely to stay that way, pristine and new on your coffee
table or book shelf for years to come.
MBH
132
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133
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134
A WINTER IN LAS CANARIAS
Andy Scott
(Andy and Lesley left their home port of Fairlie, in the Clyde estuary, Scotland in July 2009
aboard their 32ft Westerly Fulmar, Kodiak. They reached the Canaries in late September
2010 following a winter in the Algarve and cruising the Azores and Madeira.)
Walking down the long G pontoon of Marina La Gomera, I find myself smiling. As so
often before, I find myself thinking what a perfect place this is. I dislike the expression
‘living the dream’ – call me a cynical Scotsman if you like, but the term seems to me
too often associated with what the magazine in question is encouraging me to buy next.
My idea of the dream is associated with the books I read when I started sailing – the
Slocums, the Hiscocks and the Moitessiers of this world. This morning I was talking
to a young German busy fitting out a very small boat along the pontoon from us. He
was fiddling with some stainless pieces welded together. “What is it?” I asked. “Wind
steering” he responded. He confirmed that he was building it himself. “Who designed
it?” I queried. “Moitessier” he told me. “Ah,” I say, “from Sailing to the Reefs.” He nods,
smiles. Perhaps, I think, there is still ‘the dream’.
We came to the
Canaries from the
north, out of the
Azores, leaving from
the tranquil island of
Santa Maria and its
sheltered marina at
Vila de Porto. We
wanted out before
the weather closed
in with Autumn’s
approach, so left
one morning after
a brushing by an
extra-tropical
storm and before
the approach of
Hurricane Danielle.
View from the
breakfast table,
La Gomera
135
The harbour, La Graciosa
The five-day run to Porto Santo was fast and easy, and we dallied there a couple of
weeks enjoying the sunshine, the long sweeping beach and the island’s slow pace of
life. It seemed unreasonable not to visit Madeira, even if it was only for long enough
to put down a marker in that beautiful place for a future visit, but soon it was time
to head southwards again. A further three days sailing, interrupted by a few nights in
Ilhéus Selvagens, a fine ‘bunch of rocks in the ocean’, and we approached our winter
destination, the Canary Islands.
The archipelago comprises seven main islands and several smaller islets which began
to emerge explosively from the ocean some 20 million years ago. Fuerteventura was
first, followed by Lanzarote, the volcanic activity then spreading westward until El
Hierro emerged a bit over 1 million years ago. The most recent eruption was in 1971,
on La Palma, where new land continues to build as the tectonic plates below edge ever
southwards. This latest event is recent enough to provide some dramatic postcards for
the folks back home, and it is still possible to burn a hand while feeling the heat.
Having lived in the UK through the growth of the package holiday industry, the
Canary Islands initially held no great appeal to us other than as somewhere mild
to pass a few months during the northern winter while we made our decision as to
‘where next?’. We had originally envisaged the islands as a place of airports, hotels
and timeshares, lobster pink Brits strewn along the beaches or swilling sangria into the
night. Our pilot, however, suggested there was more and that if we looked ... we would
find. And so our first landfall was La Graciosa, the most northeasterly occupied island
in the archipelago where, if the literature was to be believed, ‘one kicks off one’s shoes
on arrival’ at this place for ‘the ultimate stress-busting break’.
The pleasure of kicking off our shoes was delayed, however, due to a need for a new
dinghy. We contemplated launching our exploration of La Graciosa by swimming ashore
towing a dry-bag, but a brisk 25 knots off the shore suggested the wind and the dry-bag might
win over the swimming. We tried to put ashore in the small marina at Caleto del Sebo,
but were met by some unsympathetic security guards carrying riot sticks and handcuffs.
136
A trip to the chandlery in Marina Rubicon at the south end of Lanzarote was the
solution, a phone call having confirmed pleasantly reasonable prices on their dinghies.
Our southward trip was very speedy, the return trip north rather slower, however overall
the journey at least offered the educational benefits of introducing us to acceleration
zones, beating into trade winds against the Canaries Current, and the pleasant harbour
of Puerto de Arrecife. This is a small harbour which, if space is available, provides
comfortable and convenient anchorage in the prevailing winds. The town itself,
the island’s capital, is very well provided with all that a cruising yachtsman might
reasonably require.
As we entered the harbour we were hailed by the occupants of a small fleet of ageing
sailing vessels, each at different stages of refurbishment (or deterioration) and directed
to a mooring which was ‘free’ in both senses of the word. We were assured it was safe,
and snorkelling proved this to be probably the case. Arrecife is a real cruiser’s hole –
Paul, one of the residents, was refitting an old Camper & Nicholson 44 which he’d
found going cheap in the Caribbean when he sailed there in his Vertue some years
ago. It needed an engine, so he sailed home to England in the Vertue, bought one,
and sailed back with it lashed down to the cabin sole.
Back at La Graciosa a couple of days later the shoes at last came off. We have to
agree with the literature – La Graciosa is one of those quiet, dreamlike places that can
suck you in. It is difficult to explain how we passed our time on such a small island,
but two weeks slipped past with surprising ease – some people stay just as easily for
months. By persisting with the armed guards during our earlier attempted visit I had
been allowed to stay long enough to visit the port captain, who reserved us a berth
for our return. By persisting again (after four days’ absence they all claimed never to
have seen me before) I managed to claim my berth.
Sunset over Arrecife
137
Caleta del Sebo,
La Graciosa, viewed
from the Mirador del Río
The marina is basic – water, but no electricity or toilets. There is no security (the
guards seemingly there only to keep yachts out) but probably few criminals either.
Numerous unused boats lie there, taking up space, their owners having quite probably
lost the will to leave. It is also very cheap – €7 a night for our 10m. It is also quite
difficult to gain access, advance planning or a good Plan B being necessary. The
anchorage is nearby and, of course, is free.
The town is small, sleepy and very accommodating. There is sufficient food on
sale to ensure survival and the local bar/restaurants are cheap and wholesome. The
southern beaches offer safe swimming, while those facing the western surf are beautiful
but for sunbathing only. Dress code on the beaches is optional, literally. There are
no roads on the island, only sand tracks for a handful of local Land Rovers. Touring
is by foot, and several small defunct volcanoes offer the opportunity of keeping the
blood pumping properly. This island is so low key it barely gets a mention in Lonely
Planet. We want very much to go back.
But we had family to meet in Playa Blanca, and had to rush onwards. We did an
advance sortie to Isla Lobos off Fuerteventura to check that it was suitable for a family
day out. Indeed it was – we were subsequently to spend several lazy days anchored in
that lovely place, sunning and snorkelling amongst its teeming fishes. Playa Blanca
may not be the most atmospheric of cruising destination, but Marina Rubicon was
comfortable and friendly and the beaches at Papagayo, fifteen minutes’ walk away,
take a bit of beating. These beaches are on the periphery of a nature reserve, so are
devoid of any development.
Our grandsons enjoyed the sailing and the beach. Oscar was most pleased to be first
138
to spot the handsome bonita on my line; Joe enthused over his ‘message in a bottle’
which, miraculously, resulted in him receiving a reply two months later from the
German lady who found the bottle on a Fuerteventura beach. A hired car took us
inland via Yaiza to camel rides and on to the volcanic park of Timanfaya. Continuing
north, the road runs through some beautiful highland scenery and the handsome
towns of Mozaga and Haria and thence to the elegant Mirador del Río, designed by
the celebrated César Manrique, and its spectacular view over the Estrecho del Río
towards Isla Graciosa. It is said that you either love Lanzarote or hate it. We have to
be slotted into the first category.
On our own again we returned to Isla Lobos and to Correlejo, the pleasantly organic
port town at the northern end of Fuerteventura. This town does have its tourist parts,
but around the port area it feels authentic – a bit shambolic and very acceptable. South
of the town are some stunning beaches and huge dunes. A car trip into the hinterland
is very worthwhile; we drove through hot desert mountains, past the island’s one time
capital, La Oliva, and the Casa de los Coroneles where its one time rulers resided
until even the King of Spain tired of the trouble caused by their exploitative ways
and ordered them out. The house is now an arts centre, and amongst the many fine
exhibits we saw there was a little gem – a copy of a map/painting commissioned by
the ruling Coronele during the 1730s showing a plan and cross-section of Lanzarote
when a large part of that island quite literally went up in flames.
We got as far south as the Mirador Morro Velosa, a viewpoint so high that grass
sprouts from the early morning dews, from which we could look down on the lush
hamlet of Betancuria founded some 600 years ago. Our homeward journey included a
diversion through El Cotillo, a very attractive former fishing village now functioning
as something of a surfing Mecca. The surfing on the nursery waves looked so inviting
Shore Road, La Graciosa at high tide
139
that we enrolled the following day for some lessons. This proved rather depressing
in an ‘old dogs, new tricks’ kind of a way – after two days I found myself swallowing
anti-inflammatories and falling asleep through exhaustion. I’ll be sticking to in- or
under-water sports in future.
An 85th birthday celebration necessitated a home trip towards the end of November,
and this allowed us to show our faces to our other two grandchildren, lest they forget
who we are. Before our departure we had concluded that we’d want to spend the whole
winter in the eastern islands, leaving the western ones for another time. Odd how
things change, though – the afternoon of our return we made an impromptu decision
and left Lanzarote the next morning, bound for La Gomera.
Sitting around a marina for a while it’s all too easy to forget the sea. We headed
out of Marina Rubicon in late morning and bounced into 3m waves off the island’s
southwest corner, reminding us quite quickly what sailing is really about. Fortunately,
once out of the acceleration zone the sea settled down, and so did our stomachs. Mid
December and it’s still warm overnight. The lights of Lanzarote and Fuertaventura
disappeared behind us to be replaced with those of Gran Canaria and, later, Tenerife,
ahead. Clear, star-filled skies arced above us.
Apart from having to dodge one ship in the traffic separation zone north of Las
Palmas, everything went very smoothly ... oh, except for our electrics that is – that
The green moutains of La Gomera ...
140
... and the dry sandy hills of Fuerteventura
was the night we discovered our batteries were dying. A nice fat dorado early in the
morning compensated well for that particular disappointment, however. Then a night
in Marina San Miguel and a spinnaker run the following day saw us into a berth in
the very pleasant Marina La Gomera, where we have taken root.
At around 12 million years old, La Gomera was here shortly before its larger neighbour,
Tenerife, capital of the western province of the autonomous region of the Canary
Islands. La Gomera is, in reality a mountain. Like all of the islands in the group, it
springs from the ocean floor, which lies some 2000m or more below the waves. Pico de
Teide on Tenerife rises to over 3700m above sea level, the highest elevation in Spain,
which, considering the 3500m depths only a few miles offshore mean it is a mountain
of a scale similar to Mount Everest. La Gomera may be smaller, rising to some 1480m,
however it is still a substantial mountain.
The island possesses two features that make it unique. Firstly, no volcanic activity
for more than two million years has allowed the land to experience full environmental
weathering – deep, water-worn valleys have formed, radiating out in all directions from
the central peak of Alto de Garajonay like spokes of a wheel. Secondly, the last ice-age
never made it as far south as the Canaries, and consequently the sub-tropical laurisilva
forest, once widespread throughout the Mediterranean basin, continues to flourish here.
While the island’s 1480m height wrings sufficient moisture from the Atlantic air
141
to shape the land and to sustain the forest, its position in the trade wind belt ensures
a steady supply of sunshine – some 3000 hours per year on the south of the island,
compared with the 1500 that we would see in a good summer in northern Europe.
We arrived mid December just after a blustery spell of weather, which conveniently
occurred during our home trip. The weather then settled and we have generally enjoyed
sunny days and cool, fresh nights ever since.
The marina is an integral part of the island’s main town, San Sebastián, lying on the
edge of the shopping and café area, between the town beach and the harbour. Life is
lazy. It was easy to slip into a routine of a slow start over a leisurely breakfast, dealing
with the odd boat task, or maybe doing some food shopping, retiring to the beach
after lunch for a sun and a swim, then keeping up with the world via wifi, eating some
more food and getting to bed early enough to be able to cope with the whole process
again the following day. And once or twice a week the routine can be varied by the
inclusion of a day spent on one of the island’s numerous excellent walks. Like Scottish
mountains, these walks are frequently around 10km, involving 1000m ascents, but
have the advantage of a bus at the top returning to the town.
G pontoon is the small boat area but is probably all the more interesting for that.
There were half a dozen single-handers here when we arrived, small boats in the 24–26
foot range, and a handful of others only slightly larger and better crewed. Compared
with the well-appointed big beasts we had been seeing along the ARC route as we
sailed south, this was sailing from a different era. The boats were ready, the weather
was not, the wind still from the south or west. Several times a day skippers and crews
Walking in the Laurisilva, La Gomera
142
would gather in a bunch on the boardwalk running along the wave wall above the
pontoon to discuss plans or just to pass the time. Most of them yielded to the urge to
go and left in the days between Christmas and New Year, their places to be taken by
the island drifters who then floated in.
Christmas brought a beach barbecue and several cultural events, including a
concert with a hundred-strong choir and sixty musicians, complete with kettle drums
and tubular bells, and a Nativity play involving all ages and live sheep, goats and
ducks. At New Year it was all night dancing to local salsa music, which has more
in common with Latin America than with Spain. In our three months here there
have been several other fiestas involving folk music and dancing. As I write, we
are part-way through a three-week long Carnival. All this is by the locals, for the
locals; it seems that television came late to this island and the habit of traditional
entertainment still survives.
Of course it wasn’t always so idyllic here!
Some who arrive stay a long time. According to a couple of British women who
settled here forty years ago, the island was ‘discovered’ in the 1960s when some wellfunded young Americans came here in preference to being shot at in east Asia. In time
they were replaced by affluent hippies, mainly of the German variety, the remnants
of whom are still around – after all, why leave? Then the UK musician Tim Hart of
Steeleye Span settled here in the early 1980s to heal his body, which had had enough
of what was on offer back home in London. This was a blessing in that he has written
a nice little local guide which gives a good flavour of what’s on offer.
We have had a couple of trips elsewhere since we arrived – to La Palma and to El
Hierro. Both of these islands also have much to offer, although La Palma is high and
while there the weather closed in and we experienced our first 50°F temperatures
143
Lesley in La Restinga, El Hierro, with Kodiak behind
with biting wind and horizontal rain since leaving Scotland. El Hierro is windy – La
Restinga, as well as being one of Europe’s premier diving venues, also seeming to
protrude into the island’s own acceleration zone and we waited a week for winds light
enough to return to La Gomera. This wind, though, is the island’s blessing – at the
north end, near Valverde, the main town, five wind turbines and a small pumpedstorage hydroelectric facility are being built, which on completion later this year will
allow El Hierro to become the first island in the world to become electrically selfsufficient. This adds to the island’s inclusion as ‘the end of the world’ on Ptolemy’s
2nd century world map, and to its role as the prime meridian following Columbus’
crossing of the Atlantic.
We made it back ‘home’ to La Gomera in time for the annual carnaval – a fortnight
of dressing up, parading, singing, dancing and in general a glorious celebration
of life for all those between seven months and seventy-plus years. One night we
came down the main street to find a couple of hundred revellers, all dressed in
white, dancing to some excellent Gomeran/Cuban music while showering each
other liberally with talcum powder – the finale of the Dia del Talco. We soon found
ourselves amongst them. In the morning our clothes may have needed a good wash
but it has to be said that we smelled nice.
144
Danes, Swedes and Scots at the ancient Meridian, El Hierro
The ‘where next’ decision has been made for us by the beauty of these islands and our
‘must go back to list’ is extensive. We are due to go home for a few months, but Kodiak
stays here in La Gomera until October, allowing us some more time in the Canaries
before moving on. Our finding is that, although there may be some tacky tourism
about, you have to look quite carefully to find it.
And when we
leave the Canaries?
The only way is west!
145
FROM THE GALLEY OF ... Bill and Nancy Salvo, aboard
Cascade II
Spinach-Feta Risotto
Ingredients •
•
•
•
•
•
•
1 vegetable stock cube
½ packet (about 250g / 9 oz) frozen spinach
1 onion, finely chopped
125g / 4½ oz Arborio rice* per person
125-150g (±5 oz) Feta cheese
US quart / UK 1½ pints water
olive oil
Add the vegetable cube to the water and heat until dissolved. Add the frozen spinach
and stir until thawed.
In another pan, sauté the onion in olive oil and add the rice, stirring until coated.
Then, with the heat quite high, begin adding the vegetable broth little by little to
cover the rice, holding back the spinach with a spoon. Stir constantly.
When the rice has about doubled in size add the spinach. Continue stirring and
when the rice begins to be tender add the Feta cheese. Continue stirring until all the
cheese has melted and the rice is tender to the teeth.
* According to Wikipedia and the BBC Food website: ‘Arborio rice is an Italian shortgrain rice, named after the town of Arborio in the Po Valley, where it is grown’.
‘Arborio rice is traditionally used for risotto because during the cooking process
some of the starch from the rice is released and creates the desired creaminess’.

FROM THE GALLEY OF ... Anne Hammick, aboard
Wrestler of Leigh
Seagoing Sweet and Sour (serves two)
This dates back to Wrestler’s two Atlantic circuits in the 1980s. To this day she has
no refrigeration and limited storage space, and back then Liz and I had very limited
funds for provisioning...
Ingredients •
•
•
•
•
1 medium onion
1 red pepper (if available)
½ christophene (chayote or pear squash) (if available)
2–3 cloves garlic
root ginger to taste
146
•
•
•
•
•
•
1 small can pineapple chunks
1 can Spam or cooked ham
1 tbs vinegar
1 tbs honey or brown sugar
1 tbs soy sauce
2 tsp cornflour (cornstarch)
Slice the onion, garlic and ginger and put in the pan with the vinegar, honey or brown
sugar, the juice from the pineapple can and a little water. Bring to the boil and simmer
until the onion is soft. Mix the cornflour with a little water and dribble into the pan,
stirring continuously. Return to the heat and simmer, continuing to stir, until the sauce
thickens. Add the sliced pepper and christophene early on if you like them soft, later
if you prefer some crunch.
Halve the pineapple chunks, chop the Spam or ham into sticks, and add to the sauce.
Reheat, and serve over rice or noodles.


147
CHINOOK CRASH – THE
YACHTSMAN’S EVIDENCE
Mark Holbrook, Rear Commodore
At 1759 on Thursday 2 June 1994 a Chinook helicopter slammed into the hillside above
the Mull of Kintyre lighthouse on the west coast of Scotland. On board with the flight crew
were 25 security specialists concerned with counter IRA operations in Northern Ireland. It
simultaneously became the RAF’s worst peacetime accident and a disaster for the Government’s
counter intelligence operations. The controversy of the two dead pilots being found guilty of
gross negligence continues to this day. The last person to see the aircraft was a lone yachtsman
trying to round the Mull, and what he claims to have seen forms part of the controversy.
The Committee Corridor in the House of Lords was just as forbidding as I had
expected. Niches with green leather seats were occupied by splendidly dressed
military officers (Air Marshals, no less, if I recall) with their advisors and knots of
relatives, gathered around their latest star witness testifying as to the unpredictable
behaviour of the Chinook computerised flight control system. Surely, with a witness
who had been subject to a gagging order by his superiors at the RAF, they would
not pay much attention to me? I had avoided any contact with campaign groups
ever since that dreadful night off the Mull, but I was furious both at being labelled
an ‘unreliable witness’ by counsel for the MOD and that diagrams of extensive
thick fog were being used to condemn the flight crew as grossly negligent. A clerk
in rather quaint legal dress came over to me to advise me that I could make an
initial statement.
We left at about ten in the morning after a couple of days anchored at Craighouse,
Jura, expecting an hour or two of foul tide before it turned fair to help us south and
then east round Kintyre on our way to Arran. The northeasterly wind was light and
my Contessa 26 boasted a petrol inboard engine which was very correctly described
as an auxiliary – effectively for use only if there was no wind at all and definitely not
up to powering against a foul stream round the Mull. I keep using ‘we’, although the
observant will have noticed the ‘lone yachtsman’ as the observer. There were two of
us on board, and the fact that my friend Ian was never called to any enquiry despite
the hours of legal argument over my evidence and the incorrect epithet of the ‘lone
yachtsman’ is another mystery of the strange events which were about to occur.
We had some high cloud for much of the trip south from Jura, but as we passed close
to Gigha we had no trouble picking up the west cardinal buoy warning of the rocks lying
to the southwest of the island. Past Gigha the wind started to veer and strengthen, and
whilst we were still making good time an east wind was not forecast and would be most
unwelcome for our trip round the Mull. I went down below to look at alternatives. I had
heard of others putting in at Rathlin if a passage round the Mull became impracticable,
148
but I had not been to the island, which lies just off the Antrim coast and has its own
set of tidal gates to contend with. When I came up on deck again, having concluded
that Ballycastle was probably a better bet, the weather had become showery and the
veering wind strengthened to a force 5. We decided to close with the Kintyre coast,
follow it down to the Mull and then take a look-see.
Our weather continued with intermittent showers, with some watery sun filtering
through the cloud cover and very occasionally a glimpse of blue sky. Over towards
the Mull, though, low cloud had come down to hug the contours of the high ground.
The wind continued to veer, and by 1600 was set in the southeast and risen to an
uncomfortable force 6. By this time we had passed Machrihanish with its secretive
airbase and were hard on the wind to keep close inshore. An hour later we encountered
heavy overfalls off the Mull light. We could not see Beinn na Lice standing above the
light – it was completely enveloped in cloud – but we could see glimpses of the light
itself as the clouds moved, and for all the time we were there we could see the lower
part of the white wall around the light complex. And we were there for a while – the
tide was turning, we had missed our opportunity to make it round the headland, and
the worsening weather called for a sail change. No doubt intimidated by the growing
seas I opted to change the genoa for a storm jib, and the pitching resulted in several
comprehensive duckings as I did so. While this was going on some half-dozen fishing
boats joined us to trawl in the overfalls, perhaps expecting that the turbulence would
encourage fish to feed there. At any event, they had got the timing right and I had
got it wrong. With shorter canvas set we made off to the southwest to get out of the
area before the race proper developed.
149
My Contessa
26 in rather
better
weather
The sail change had taken twenty minutes or so. It took ten minutes to determine
the contrary movements of the fishing boats and work out that they were not pairtrawling and we could pass between them, so by 1730 we were headed southwest
with the force 6 wind just to the east of south. I had not had time to change and was
very cold and miserable, but since we were past the fishing fleet and moving away
from the race I left the cockpit to Ian and went below to strip and make a cup of tea.
After changing I switched on the radio for the BBC shipping forecast, then swapped
the helm with Ian, asking him to copy it down so that we could pick over it carefully
and decide what to do. In the event Ian called up to say that reception was dreadful
150
and that he could not hear the forecast
clearly, but from the sea areas that he
could hear what was likely for us was
a southerly force 7, but it could take as
long as 12 hours to develop. Not good
– but it could have been worse.
I remarked that a helicopter had
come to join in the fun. It was flying
low, perhaps on a Search and Rescue
missionv, so could he turn up thexx
The Mull lighthouse (copyright Phil
VHF on channel 16 to see if there was
Smith, released for reuse under the
anything going on? The helicopter was
Creative Commons licence)
heading towards the Mull and I noticed
it had its landing gear down (I don’t
know if a helicopter’s gear goes up or not, but this one’s was down). I also noticed
flashing amber lights. The downdraft beat was weird and different to anything I
had experienced before – almost a
thrumming, which you could feel more
than hear. As I looked at the aircraft a
shaft of sunlight glinted off something
reflective. I glanced towards the Mull.
I could see where it was, although the
headland was shrouded with cloud. I
could also see the light compound, but
not the building itself. Finally I could
see the island of Sanda, again wearing
a shroud of cloud. I now looked towards
Antrim, the heights of which I could also see – or perhaps it was Rathlin I was looking
at? I made a note to have another look at the chart to determine which it was.
There was no activity on Channel 16
and we left it on. The weather started to
deteriorate further.
Dinner was a bit miserable but at least
it was hot. The wind had veered a little
more, and at about 2000 we tacked and
xx
started to head east again, planning to
The Mull of Kintyre (copyright Donald
pass at least four miles to the south of
MacDonald, released for reuse under
Sanda and Patterson’s rock. Now that
the Creative Commons licence)
we had a plan I called Clyde Coastguard
with a revised arrival time at our alternative destination of Campbelltown. We had filed
a passage report on leaving Jura and would be soon overdue. We had heard nothing
but silence on channel 16, so I was surprised to be told that they were casualty working
and the lifeboats were out. ‘Strange’, I thought, nothing on 16 at all and certainly no
151
‘seelonce’ call that we had heard – in fact the radio was so unnaturally quiet that it was
almost as if a radio blackout had been introduced. I had listened to enough casualty
working to know that the lifeboats invariably reported in to Clyde on 16 and then
requested a change to their private working channel of 0.
By 2200 we had picked up the buoy guarding Patterson’s rock, and at about 0200
with heavy rain we rounded Davar Island and were passed by four lifeboats heading
into the Loch, only one of them local. We judged that whatever the SAR operation
was it must now be over so called Clyde, checked that casualty working was over, and
passed our routing message. By 0300 we were tied up in Campbelltown.
Next morning I phoned my wife from a call box. She was concerned that we had
been caught up in the helicopter crash, since there were initial reports of many bodies
in the water at the foot of the cliffs off Kintyre. This was the first I knew of a crash,
but as it could very well have been the aircraft we saw the previous evening I went
to Campbelltown police station, gave them my name, and said that I might have
seen the aircraft. The police did not seem to be interested, though journalists in the
station were. I avoided them and returned to the boat, and we cast off and headed
back to Troon.
The VHF was active again, but this time there was ‘seelonce’ imposed with searches
as my wife had described. I wondered why there had been no radio traffic the night
before and later I came to the conclusion – which I have not heard repeated elsewhere
– that there was a security clampdown on the entire area and that some form of radio
blackout on public channels had indeed been imposed. I was asked later if I had seen
any evidence of mortar tubes or rocket launch equipment on the fishing boats, and I
was told by others that there were fears that sensitive files as well as people may very
well have been in the water.
The weather was still pretty foul as we surfed in through the entrance at Troon, and
we quickly came to the conclusion that picking up my wall mooring would be difficult in
the circumstances. I called the marina to ask for a berth, to be told there was one waiting
for me. ‘Strange’, I thought, ‘I never berth in the marina’. Heading to the specified berth
my lines were helpfully taken by gentlemen in dark jump suits who promptly introduced
themselves as policemen. My boat was declared a no-go area (complete with garlands of
blue and white chequered crime-scene tape) and my charts and log book impounded.
I have not seen them since. I and my crew were, it seemed, free to go. Nobody official
seemed interested in asking what we had seen, though the pack of press forcing the other
end of the pontoon down in to the sea most definitely were. I declined any interviews,
but this didn’t prevent headlines of ‘Death ’copter flew over my mast’ the next day and
the incorrect epithet of the ‘lone yachtsman’ was born.
Despite having my name, my address and even my boat (I removed the tape three
days later, as nobody else seemed to be interested and I was paying fees to the marina)
it was later reported to the Fatal Accident Enquiry that Strathclyde Police delayed
interviewing me because they had difficulty in tracing me. When they finally did I
was allowed access to a chart and gave my information as best I could. I pointed out
that I had no navigational aids on board and this was a small boat – if my position was
152
A Chinook in flight (photo Adrian Pingstone, released to public domain)
that important perhaps an expert on the tides in the area could assist in developing
a DR position with greater accuracy? I also pointed out that I had no idea what a
Chinook looked like. My idea of altitude was based on watching Sea Kings on SAR
operations off Troon, but the two aircraft might be of vastly different sizes, and the
height and range were linked to the size of the aircraft and the perspective from my
position. Could they arrange for me to see a Chinook at different heights and ranges,
as that would enable me to say ‘It looked like that’, instead of asking me to estimate
height, range and speed? It seemed not. These facilities were not available – all
they wanted were my estimates. I asked if they had interviewed my crew? It seemed
not – my evidence alone would be enough, and in due course I would have to visit
a Board of Enquiry to give the evidence again.
For something which has dragged on 17 years the first enquiry was a very low key
affair. I visited the police station in Dumbarton and found a ‘court’ of three young
servicemen. My comments on lights, landing gear and feeling the ‘thrum’ of the
downdraft all seemed to confirm to them my estimate of altitude as between 200
and 400 feet (Beinn na Lice, the hill behind the Mull of Kintyre light, rises to some
1400 feet). No surprise was evident when I described the aircraft, including sunshine
catching something reflective on it. I described being able to see where the Mull
light was, but not the light itself, and high country back towards Ireland. I told them
I could see the aircraft, I could see where Sanda was and I could see where the light
was and, no doubt, the pilots could see where these landmarks were too. If that were
the case, I ventured to presume that their intention was to fly to seaward of the high
153
ground. Given my viewpoint in a very small boat in a rough sea, though, I enquired
what success there had been in identifying the six fishing boats? None, I was told,
though the RUC (the police in Northern Ireland) had been contacted. I expressed
my surprise at that, as I had told the police that there were saltires* and lions rampant
on the boats and they were surely Scottish. At this point the Board had, it seemed,
all it needed and I was discharged.
The board’s initial findings were critical of the air crew, but not overly so. They judged
that the burden of proof required in order to find for negligence had not been reached
in the case of dead aircrew who could not give evidence themselves. The reviewing
officers, however, disagreed and found the aircrew guilty of gross negligence – a decision
which has baffled commentators ever since. The senior officers took the view that the
weather conditions were so bad that the aircraft should never have been where it was
under Visual Flight Rules (VFR) so, irrespective of why they did not manoeuvre to
avoid collision, they were guilty of gross negligence.
Quite apart from the distress this finding must have caused the families, I would
comment – without drawing any conclusions – that the level of compensation
payable to families when the servicemen concerned have been found guilty of gross
negligence is very, very much reduced.
If the accident had occurred in England the next step would have been an inquest – a
relatively simple affair held by a coroner and a jury tasked with returning a verdict
on how and when the deceased died. But this was not in England, and Scottish
Law demanded a Fatal Accident Enquiry (FAI). The enquiry had to be called by
the Procurator Fiscal (the public prosecutor) and would be held in a Sheriff Court.
The official concerned, one Iain Henderson, encountered an unwillingness on the
part of the Ministry of Defence (MOD) to convene the enquiry. After he retired in
June 2002 Henderson claimed that the Air Accident Inquiry Board’s (AAIB) report
had been withheld and this delayed the convening of the FAI which could not be
held without this report. The AAIB report was finally made available in June 1995,
but with the rider that it could not be tabled at the FAI. Finally the Crown Office
intervened and permission was given to table the report, and in January 1996 a
Fatal Accident Inquiry was convened at the Sheriff Court in Paisley, the facilities
in Campbeltown being too small.
A Fatal Accident Enquiry is not intended to be adversarial. There is no dispute – it
is of course accepted that the casualties are dead. This one had evidence for the Crown
led by the Advocate Depute, MOD counsel, Boeing counsel, counsel for the pilot,
counsel for the co-pilot and counsel for the relatives, all with their seconds and ranks
of advisors. This was a big enquiry, and witnesses faced cross-examination not just by
one group but potentially by five. The central question was why a sophisticated aircraft
was apparently just flown into the hill? Crucial to the determination was the weather
at the time, and the speed and height of the aircraft. There were ten witnesses to the
* St Andrew’s cross (white diagonals on a blue ground), the national flag of Scotland
154
weather. Nine of them were in low cloud on the Mull itself – one was at sea and was
the last to see flight ZD576. The situation was, of course, complex, but it would not
be wrong to sum it up as either:
The conditions were fog, a statement supported by the nine witnesses on
the Mull. The aircraft should have been flying under Instrument Flight
Rules (IFR) and should not have been at the height it was. As a result
the pilots were grossly negligent.
Or:
The conditions were not fog – instead there was low cloud hugging the
Mull and Sanda. There was clear visibility around these obstacles and
the aircraft could fly under VFR around them. This is supported by the
height, speed and radio protocol of the aircraft at the time of the crash.
But something prevented them making the turn at the first waypoint in
the vicinity of the Mull. One potential candidate was the flight control
system on the Chinook. This view was supported by the one witness
who was not in fog – myself.
The Sheriff declined to make a determination of negligence. The MOD, however,
maintained its position – as far as it was concerned the pilots were grossly negligent.
Further enquiries followed. There was a House of Commons Public Accounts
enquiry into why there was a hangar full of Chinook Mk 2s which had never flown.
They determined that this was because of poorly-designed software, and commented
that this too could have been a factor in the Mull accident. Finally there was a House
of Lords enquiry...
The door of Committee Room 3 opened, and I was ushered into a formal room by
the gentleman in the quaint legal costume. I was faced by a rather formidable array
of five lords. The Air Marshall had given evidence before me, and in the corner
on a flipchart I recognised the infamous drawing showing fog all around the Mull
– including the position where I had been and where I knew for a fact that there
was no fog. “I understand you have a statement to make to us before we begin,”
said Lord Tombs...
The following is an extract from Hansard, the journal which records parliamentary
business, in this case the report of the Select Committee investigating the Mull of
Kintyre crash:
63. The state of the weather was crucial to the conclusions of the
investigating board and of the two Air Marshals. Two witnesses
gave oral evidence to the Board as to weather. First Mr
Murchie, a keeper at the lighthouse, spoke of visibility there
being some 15-20 metres, but 400-500 metres to the north. The
155
Board asked him no further questions about weather. The second
was Mr Holbrook, the yachtsman, whose initial statement to the
Strathclyde Police contained an expression of opinion “that
the helicopter pilot would have been in a position to see
clearly the local land mass”. In his statement to the Board
Mr Holbrook said that the aircraft was well below cloud level
and visibility was about a mile limited by haze. At the time
he was about two nautical miles southwest of the lighthouse.
He was asked three questions by the Board of which one was
relevant to weather, namely whether he could see the physical
features of the cliff on the Mull. To this he replied “no”.
64. When he gave evidence at the FAI, Mr Holbrook expressed the
opinion that the pilot could have seen “the location of the
Mull lighthouse” and described the low cloud as “hugging
the Mull”. He was criticised by the Ministry of Defence for
having given different versions of his account to the Board
and to the FAI. In these circumstances we invited him to give
evidence, an invitation which he willingly accepted.
65. Mr Holbrook’s evidence to us began with a statement which he had
asked leave to make. He explained that the low cloud clung to
the contours of the high ground so that the location of the Mull
massif itself was not in doubt from sea level. He considered
that the crew of the aircraft when he saw it could determine
without ambiguity where the Mull was and could see the cliffs,
beach and lower perimeter walls of the lighthouse complex.
66. Mr Holbrook reaffirmed that when he saw the aircraft he could
not see the physical features of the Mull, but he went on to
explain that he was able to see the location of the lighthouse
complex because the buildings and the white perimeter wall
showed up as a colour change against the background of the
land mass. The top of the lighthouse was in cloud as the
cloud level moved up and down. Mr Holbrook went on to explain
that the cloud was following the contours of the land and was
very localised. He also remarked, as he had done before the
Board, that the helicopter was in sunlight as it passed. At
that time the aircraft was about two miles to the southwest
of the lighthouse. He expressed the opinion that the aircraft
was flying at a height of between 200 and 400 feet and that
the crew would have been better able to see the position of
the lighthouse than he was at sea level with a certain amount
of spray. He estimated the speed of the aircraft to be 60-80
knots, but did not feel confident enough to be dogmatic as he
had not previously seen a Chinook in flight. However, it was
his impression that the aircraft was travelling sufficiently
slowly to be involved in a search and rescue operation.
67. We do not consider that Mr Holbrook changed his evidence
between his appearances before the Board and the FAI – rather
that when he was subjected to professional examination and
156
cross-examination at the FAI and to our questioning he was
able to expand upon the rather brief evidence which he had
given to the Board. We had no hesitation in accepting him as a
reliable and convincing witness.
68. In his statement to the police and in his evidence to us Mr
Holbrook referred to the fact that the trawlers around which
he was manoeuvring appeared to be Scottish, as one of them
had St Andrew’s cross painted on the superstructure. When
Wing Commander (now Group Captain) Pulford gave evidence to
us he was asked whether the Board sought evidence from any
of the fishing vessels referred to by Mr Holbrook. He replied
that they had tracked down the fishing vessels to Northern
Ireland and the RUC could neither find anybody who had seen the
aircraft nor trace some of the boats.
69. It is perhaps surprising in view of Mr Holbrook’s statement
to the Strathclyde Police about the trawler with St Andrew’s
cross on the superstructure that that force were not asked to
pursue the matter. It is perhaps even more surprising that
the Board asked Mr Holbrook only one question in relation to
weather and used the answer as a component in the construction
of a theory as to the probable course adopted by the pilots.
70. Mr Holbrook explained to us that he had repeatedly but
unsuccessfully asked to see photographs of a Chinook at
different heights and ranges, in order the better to estimate
the height and speed of the aircraft when he saw it. He
clearly felt that he would have been in a better position to
assist the Board had he been furnished with such information.
We do not know why the Board did not accede to his request or
afford him the opportunity of seeing a Chinook in flight.
71. The statements taken by Strathclyde Police which dealt with
weather were all from persons on the Mull, at or above the
height of the lighthouse, and did not therefore throw light
on the extent to which the land mass could be seen from an
aircraft approaching from seaward. These persons all spoke of
being enveloped in cloud to a greater or lesser degree.
And from the conclusion to the report:
172. We consider the evidence of Mr Holbrook as to the probability
of the pilots being able to see the lower part of the Mull to
be of considerable importance - evidence which unfortunately
was not before the Air Marshals when they carried out their
reviews. For the reasons already given we do not think that
the Boeing simulation merits the status which has been
accorded to it in the past, and that even if there were some
last minute manoeuvre of the aircraft it cannot be said
that there was absolutely no doubt whatsoever that it was
initiated by pilots who were in control of the aircraft.
157
173. It follows that the Air Marshals were not justified in
concluding that the pilots were in control 4 seconds before
impact, or at any time after the waypoint change. In short it
has not been established to the required standard of proof
that it was the voluntary action of the pilots which caused
the aircraft to fly into the hill.
174. In carrying out our terms of reference, we have considered
the justification for the Air Marshals’ finding of negligence
against the pilots of ZD576 against the applicable standard
of proof, which required “absolutely no doubt whatsoever”. In
the light of all the evidence before us, and having regard
to that standard, we unanimously conclude that the reviewing
officers were not justified in finding that negligence on the
part of the pilots caused the aircraft to crash.
On 8 September 2010 Nick Clegg, the Deputy Prime Minister, announced a review
of the evidence on the crash of flight ZD576 and consideration of new evidence. One
such piece of new information is the review of the flight control software fitted to
ZD576 by the military contractor EDS in July 1993. The review examined 18% of the
total lines of code before it stopped its analysis because of the density of discrepancies.
The MOD’s own experts at Boscombe Down refused to endorse the airworthiness of
the Chinook Mk 2 until the flight control software was rewritten. It never was.

FROM THE GALLEY OF ... Lesley Scott aboard Kodiak
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•
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85g / 3oz watercress
100g / 4oz walnuts, chopped
50g / 2oz parmesan, grated
1 garlic clove
Finely grated zest and juice of 2 limes
100ml / 3½ fl oz olive oil
Cook the pasta in lightly salted water according to the packet instructions. Meanwhile
put the watercress, half the walnuts, the parmesan, garlic, and lime zest and juice into a
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Serve with salad and Italian bread.

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160
HOMEWARD BOUND VIA THE AZORES
Dick Moore
(Since Dick wrote about their ‘Escape from Egypt’ in Flying Fish 2008/2, he, Pam and
their Halberg Rassy 36, Aliesha, have completed a circular cruise of the Aegean, wintering
in Marmaris, then cruised west to spend the next winter in Lagos, Portugal. In 2010 it was
time to come home...)
2010 would take us into the tenth, and last, year of our voyage and we were determined
to make it a great finale. Although technically we had completed our circumnavigation
the previous year, crossing our wake on 6 September 2009 in the bay of Gibraltar, we felt
the adventure would not be over until we brought Aliesha home to Chichester.
Having read countless accounts of cruises that visited the Azores we decided to go
there from Lagos in the Algarve, spend maybe six weeks among the islands, and then
make the long passage to southern Brittany. From there we would coast-hop back
home, sailing by day and enjoying our old haunts.
Preparation
Santa Maria is the nearest Azorean island to the Algarve, a little over 800 miles from
Lagos across the western Atlantic. Our last Atlantic voyage, in 2001, had been a pretty
tough one and so we prepared Aliesha as thoroughly as we had ever done. We had a
particular dread of getting caught out at this stage of our adventure by getting careless
and neglecting some vital detail.
So the rudder had to come off to have the bearings cleaned of accumulated salt
deposits – it had become very stiff and we feared the autopilot would break down under
the additional load. The autopilot itself was sent off for a service and came back with
new bearings and ran a whole lot more quietly as a result. We fitted a replacement
membrane to the watermaker, replaced the cutless bearing on the propeller shaft and
a couple of seacocks which had seized up over the winter.
The three weeks or so that we spent in Lagos were not all hard work, however. In
fact it was a very sociable time, meeting some old friends (including Malcolm and Tess
from Vida, with whom we had crossed the Atlantic in 2001 and cruised the Caribbean
islands in 2002), and making several new ones, among them Harald and Beatte from
Taniwani (fellow OCC members and also planning to sail to the Azores) and Cormack
McHenry, OCC, sailing singlehanded and down from Dublin.
On Saturday 15 May we departed Lagos for a short proving cruise, heading along
the coast to Faro lagoon some 40 miles to the east. It was a wise precaution. A newlyfitted hose to the newly-fitted calorifier split under working pressure and dumped all
our fresh water into the engine room, and the high pressure pump on the watermaker
developed a leak from a cracked cylinder block. Both were easily fixed, the one in
Lagos and the other in Portimao, but both would have been pretty inconvenient
had they happened on passage.
161
The Atlantic in peaceful mood
All the while we were watching the seven day GRIB forecasts and other weather
sources, looking for northerly winds and not too much of them. Finally the window we
were seeking appeared, and early on the morning of 29 May we departed for Santa Maria.
Out to the Azores
We left Lagos early in the day, a sunny morning with scattered clouds and a good
breeze from the northwest. We were both excited to be tackling a long passage
again – our two years in the Med had not involved much ‘real’ passagemaking. By
lunchtime we were off Cape St Vincent, the most southwesterly point in Europe.
Passing Sagres from which, in the 15th century, Prince Henry the Navigator had
despatched his caravels to venture into the unknown in search of new lands, we
wondered at the bravery of those sailors who made such incredible voyages with
such basic ships and equipment.
Talking of equipment, Aliesha was sporting a new device, an AIS (Automatic
Identification System). Most will have this on board, we suspect, and those that do
not really should make the modest investment required. This little black box proved
its worth as we crossed the busy shipping lanes that lie to seaward of Cape St Vincent.
Although the visibility was excellent, ships hereabouts are negotiating a corner and it
was sometimes quite difficult to judge if a ship would pass too close for comfort. AIS
made everything clear. Even so, we called up a couple of ships to make sure they had
seen us and that they would not turn towards us as they manoeuvred. Calling up a
ship by its name always gets a response, whereas calling “Motor tanker about 5 miles
south-southwest of Cape St Vincent...” doesn’t.
We soon fell into the rhythm of a passage, three hours on watch and three hours off
at night, a less rigid regime during the day. Sail changes, plotting positions, speaking
to chums on the radio (Taniwani was also en route), cooking, eating, doing the chores.
Spare moments we spent watching the seabirds wheeling and performing endless
wing-overs just above the waves. We saw a few ships, rather more on the navigation
screen courtesy of the AIS, but none came near enough to bother us. I tried my hand
162
at fishing but without success. Pam discovered a book on meteorology, long forgotten,
and spent hours studying the clouds and learning to read their story.
In the early hours of Thursday 3 June a front came through, bringing 30 knot
winds and rain and a violent, 90° wind shift. It was all hands on deck for an hour
or two, reefing the sails and settling the boat onto a new course. This even required
some hand steering for a while, as the sudden change in wind direction had caused
the autopilot to go into a sulk from which it took an hour or more to recover. But
nothing got broken, apart from the hinge on the toilet seat! I contrived a repair of
sorts and we carried on. The rest of the day was bright and sunny. For company we
had pods of dolphins come to play in the bow wave, shearwaters and petrels in the
air, a couple of young turtles and even some distant pilot whales. ‘It doesn’t get much
better than this!’ we thought.
About 0600 next morning I caught my first glimpse of Santa Maria, green and hilly.
At 0900 a large pod of dolphins came to play. By 1000 we had reached Vila do Porto
and entered the small marina where Harald and Beatte from Taniwani waited to take
our lines. We had sailed 875 miles. We were in the Azores!
Santa Maria
First discovered in 1427, Santa Maria is home to some 6000 people who mostly earn
their living from fishing and farming. Mass tourism has yet to reach here and it is a
tranquil place, its people friendly enough to visitors but with a slight reserve. The
main town, Vila do Porto, has the only harbour and a modern marina with about 25
berths for cruising yachts and rather more for local fishing boats.
The town was built along a bluff which runs at right angles to the coast and which
offered protection from the raids of pirates in days gone by. Today there are many
empty and dilapidated buildings, signs of depopulation. The houses which are still
occupied are all well maintained though, with modern doors and windows and sound
roofs. They get a lot of wind and rain here in the winters.
Vila do Porto Marina, Santa Maria
163
Beatte, Harald
and Pam
With Harald and
Beatte we hired a
car and spent a day
touring the island.
The central and
eastern parts are
high and steep
cliffs fall to the
sea. The western
end is one vast flat
plateau and here,
during World War
2, the Americans
constructed a
huge runway, later
extended, which
was used to ferry
planes, men and
equipment to the
war in Europe.
Nowadays it is
little used.
The only problem was the weather, which was mostly overcast with some light rain
– warm enough but disappointing. Looking at the synoptic weather charts we could see
that the Azores High had moved well north, giving long spells of fine settled weather
to the UK but leaving the islands that give it its name in its cloudy sector. Still, there
were the usual boat jobs to do and, as a few more yachts came in, plenty of socialising.
We particularly remember Morning Calm III, a huge Trintella owned by Les and Marie
Auchincloss, OCC, and with a professional skipper, Cameron. Les owns a malt whisky
distillery and was generous with his hospitality. We were sorry to learn that we were
heading in opposite directions!
On to Terceira
Our friends Chris and Heather Saint, OCC, aboard Halo had left Chichester with us in
the early summer of 2001. Like us they were towards the end of their circumnavigation
and had reached Horta on Faial a couple of weeks earlier. Family reasons were urging
them back to England, so we decided to miss out São Miguel (the largest and most
developed island) and sail directly to Terceira to meet them.
164
Heather, Pam
and Chris
We departed
on Thursday
10 June under
grey skies and
covered the
130-odd miles
in just under
24 hours.
The marina
in Angra do
Heroísmo
found us a
berth and, to
our delight,
there was Halo
only a few boats from us. It was great to meet up again and we spent a very happy day
and evening catching up on each others’ news.
Bull fighting is big in the Azores and nowhere more so than in Terceira. The following
evening we learned that there was to be a running of the bulls in one of the city streets.
We all went to watch. Essentially a bull is released into the street. Having been cooped
Angra do Heroísmo Marina
165
Looking
for trouble
up in a steel cage
for several hours
he is not happy.
Having two long
ropes attached
to his neck
does nothing to
make him feel
better. He espies
a group of local
men and youths,
waving anything
from hats to
umbrellas. He
charges. The men
flee. If they are
lucky (and they
mostly are) they
escape, perhaps
by speed, perhaps
by jumping over
a wall or fence. If
they are unlucky,
and the bull is
fast and agile, they get caught and tossed, even gored (but the horns have brass tips
to reduce the risk of serious injury) ... and not a Health and Safety Executive in
sight. Two teams of men in traditional garb hang onto the ropes and prevent the
bull from leaving the area, but they can’t hold a determined animal, merely slow it
down and steer it a bit.
The following day we hired a car and toured the island. Sadly the weather was bad,
low cloud and rain. We visited a lava tube and a fumarole area and a huge lava bubble
with amazing stalactites, but of the scenery we saw very little. The next day Chris and
Heather set sail, aiming to go directly back to England. We explored the city.
Back in the days of sail the Azores were an important stopping point for vessels bound
from Europe to the Americas, to the Cape of Good Hope and the East – in fact to almost
anywhere. Terceira had one of the few reasonably sheltered anchorages, and so the city
of Angra do Heroísmo came into being. Now a World Heritage site and beautifully
restored after a devastating earthquake in 1980, it is a jewel of a city in a beautiful
166
location. We stayed a week longer, partly because the main annual festa was shortly
to begin. This included a huge evening parade, a Portuguese-style bullfight, fireworks
and all manner of diversions in between. We met more cruisers, some outward-bound
at the start of their adventure, others, like ourselves, making for home.
São Jorge
São Jorge is only a day sail from Angra and we motored most of the way in sunshine, a
pleasant change from the usual overcast. Coming up the south coast Pam spotted the
tail of a large whale, possibly a sperm whale but too far away to be certain. The island
has high cliffs along its entire length and waterfalls cascaded down to the sea in several
places. So far it was the greenest island we’d seen by quite a long way.
The main port is Velas. It has a tiny marina, with berths for about twelve visiting
yachts, and among them we found Taniwani, which had stopped in São Miguel. The
formalities were swiftly done and we relaxed. Across the channel loomed the cone of
Mount Pico, iconic landmark of the central Azorean islands.
Next day Harald and Beatte persuaded us to join them in a tour by car, Harald doing
the driving. It is a very pretty island, essentially a high plateau falling steeply to the
sea. In places there are small coastal flats called fajas where people originally made
their villages and farmed. Dairying and cheese production are the main sources of
income. Okay for a visit, rather boring in winter, we felt. In the marina we started to
meet cruisers who had just crossed the Atlantic from the Caribbean and were making
their way towards Europe. There were many drinks parties – another great social scene.
Velas, São Jorge, with Pico
just visible on the skyline
167
Faial and Horta
For ocean sailors the island of Faial and its port, Horta, is one of the great destinations. We
had been reading about it for years. On Sunday 27 June 2010 we arrived there ourselves.
It was one of those disappointing days. Misty in the early morning, so that the cone
of Pico was obscured, then the clouds came over and a wind sprang up from dead ahead
so we ended up motoring the last five miles. Then we found the two marinas were both
full and we had to berth on the very end of the south breakwater, on the outside, which
meant that every ship movement caused us to surge up and down, wearing warps and
fenders and our tempers. Still, we had made it.
Horta is famous among yachties for two things. One is Peter’s Café Sport, for several
decades the favourite watering hole for ocean sailors. José, grandson of the original
patron, is the OCC’s Port Officer and so we were made doubly welcome when, the
next day, we arrived for lunch. It has an amazing collection of nautical knick-knacks
on the walls and ceiling and good beer, but the food was a bit of a let-down. Mind you,
the Azores are not famous for their culinary delights. Upstairs is a museum devoted to
scrimshaw, the art of decorating ivory from whales’ teeth and the tusks of narwhal. It
is well worth the time to visit.
The second thing for which Horta is famous is the tradition that every visiting yacht
must leave a picture on the sea wall, or bad luck will surely follow. Neither Pam nor
I are at all artistic but we knew that we had to follow the tradition. So we came up
with a simple design, intended to symbolise our circumnavigation, bought paints and
brushes, and set about finding a site. This is not easy, but tradition allows over-painting
of really old works of art and so we found our spot and went to work.
Pam outside Horta’s famous Café Sport
168
The artist at work
Great art it is not, but we enjoyed ourselves, met lots of fellow cruisers in the
process and, as always, enjoyed the social scene. It seemed that every fourth cruiser
belonged to the Ocean Cruising Club and so a very jovial time was had by all. We
didn’t do a lot of sightseeing outside Horta itself, but we did take the bus around the
island, a two-hour trip which revealed lots of green fields, lots of neat houses and
not a lot to excite us. The attraction lay across the channel which divides Faial from
Pico mountain from Horta
169
Aliesha in the tiny marina at Lajes do Pico
Pico. So we joined Harald and Beatte one more time, took the early ferry across to
Madalena, and hired a car for the day.
Pico
Pico, like all the islands in the Azores, is volcanic. The last major eruption took place
in the late 1700s and much of the northern end of the island is still a savage jumble
of lava rocks. Incredibly, the inhabitants have cleared the ground into tiny plots and
piled the rock into walls a metre or so high to surround them. Here they grow vines,
and from the vines they
make the wines, both red
and white, for which the
island is famous. While we
were there we drank a lot
of lava wine, as it is called,
and brought half a case
back with us. Sadly, either
it didn’t travel well or our
tastes changed because,
back in France, we found we
couldn’t drink it.
Whale boat,
Lajes do Pico
170
Farewell to Pico
Pico was also a major whaling island. The Azoreans continued to hunt whales from
open boats propelled by sail and oars until whaling was banned in 1984. Their only
concession to modernity was that petrol-engined launches would tow the boats from
port to within a mile or so of the quarry. Most villages still maintain a fleet of whale
boats and these are raced in competitions through the summer months. Meanwhile
whale-watching has become a significant business and brings many tourists to the
islands. Our visit took us through the wine growing area, along the coast to visit a
former whaling factory, now a museum, then up to the highlands to catch glimpses of
the summit and see the high pastures, and finally to Lajes do Pico where there is an
excellent whaling museum. It was a really interesting and varied day.
By now it was 8 July and almost time to head north. We decided to sail Aliesha down
to Lajes do Pico on the south coast of the island, where they have just built a really
tiny marina. There are only six berths for visiting yachts and the channel is very tight,
but we had inspected it from the shore, drawn ourselves a little chart, and felt that
this would make a fitting end to our Azorean adventure. There was no wind and so we
motored the whole way, a four hour trip with Pico dominating the skyline high – 7700
feet – above us. Once inside we relaxed as we watched the weather patterns, looking
for a good few days of favourable winds to get us started on our way north. The passage
would be around 1250 miles, about ten days at our normal passage speed.
On Sunday 11 July the forecast looked good and, on a cloudless morning, we sailed
away. It had been a wonderful time among beautiful surroundings, pleasant
people and with lots of history to absorb. One day we hope to return.
171
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172
FLARES: AN UPDATE
Terry O’Brien
Flying Fish 2010/2 carried my account of the firing of 120 Time Expired Pyrotechnics
(TEPs), organised by Marina de Lagos for Lagos Navigators. Since then we have had
the chance to fire a further 87 TEPs and the data have been updated. With the larger
sample size some comments are now possible on performance by some brands, but I
should emphasise that these are out-of-date flares and that results may not reflect
design performance.
Overall results by type
The data from the two exercises were combined, giving a total of 207 pyrotechnics
fired. Overall performance was 74%, while TEPs of between five and ten years beyond
their expiry date achieved a 90% success rate. This dropped to 60% for TEPs more
than ten years past their expiry date.
The numbers of ‘Other Types’ – ie. anti-collision and hand-held smoke flares, and
smoke canisters, were too small to draw meaningful conclusions.
Expiry Dates
1996/00
2001/05
2006/10
TOTALS
Type of TEP
No % Pass
No % Pass
No % Pass
No % Pass
Hand-held red
Parachute
Other types
32
11
5
53
73
80
31
10
19
55
50
72
50
24
25
98
71
92
113
45
49
73
67
86
TOTALS
48
60
60
60
99
90
207
74
For hand-held red flares the overall performance was 73%, with an impressive 98%
success rate for the 50 flares in the ‘five to ten years’ category. The overall score was
reduced by the relatively high number of samples from the previous ten years, where they
scored 55% and 53%. Overall, parachute flares had 67% success rate, but only scored
71% in the ‘five to ten
years’ group.
FAILURE
– return to sender!
173
Hand-helds got really hot...
Analysis by maker
The data were then re-examined, comparing makers across the same age bands.
Expiry Dates
1996/00
2001/05
2006/10
TOTALS
Maker
No % Pass
No % Pass
No % Pass
No % Pass
Ikaros
Oroquieta
Pains Wessex
Others
0
0
36
12
N/A
N/A
78
8
4
1
35
20
100
0
49
75
44
23
16
16
98
65
100
94
48
24
87
48
98
63
70
65
TOTALS
48
60
60
60
99
90
207
74
Ikaros has a very creditable performance of 98% overall, though it must be noted that
the vast majority of their flares were in the ‘five to ten years’ category.
This age range was also true of Oroquieta, but their performance suffered from
eight failures in this category. Examination of the base data showed that seven of
these were parachute flares. Three of the rockets failed to ignite at all, on two others
the rockets fired but flew erratically – including one which turned 180º and headed
back to its launcher with the flare ignited! – and the last two were deemed to be
too dangerous to fire.
As the majority of the yachtsmen involved were British, it is no surprise that the
greatest number of flares in our sample came from Pains Wessex. With the widest age
range, they had a lower proportion of passes overall, but performance in the ‘five to
ten years’ bracket was an impressive 100%. The small sample size in this age group
may reflect the desire of owners to hold on to what are perceived to be quality goods!
174
Recommendations (based on our experience of firing 207 TEPs)
1. Even if they give less than 100% performance in terms of brilliance or duration of burn,
it still seems good sense to retain one previous ‘generation’ of hand-held flares and
any of the smoke devices in addition to a full complement of in-date flares. (Though
note that in some countries it is an offence to carry out-of-date pyrotechnics.)
2. The erratic behaviour of time expired and – especially – cheaper parachute rockets
makes them potentially dangerous to the user.
3. No pyrotechnics seem to be worth retaining for more than five years beyond
the expiry date.
d
d
d
4. Remember the ‘good practices’ mentioned in the previous article referred to above.
After witnessing 207 launches, I can stress that these are scary devices at any time
– and dangerous when they go wrong!
FROM THE GALLEY OF ... Gavin and Georgie McLaren,
aboard Margaret Wroughton
Hash (makes two generous portions)
This is a good meal the first night out, as most of the cooking is done in advance. If
assembled beforehand, hash can be put in a dish, covered in foil and reheated in a very
low oven. Serve with tomato or Worcestershire sauce and a green vegetable.
Ingredients •
•
•
•
•
1 small tin of corned beef (or ½ a large tin)
3 medium leftover boiled potatoes, cut into 1 cm dice
leftover cooked cabbage or sprouts
2 medium onions
salt, pepper and butter
Chop the onion roughly and fry in a little butter until soft. Add the diced potatoes and
chopped cabbage or sprouts, and fry gently until warmed through. Cut the corned beef
into 1 cm chunks (much easier if chilled) and add to the pan. Cook over a moderate
heat, stirring gently from time to time until the corned beef has mingled with the other
ingredients into a sort of mush. Add a little more butter if the mixture looks dry and
in danger of sticking. Season with lots of pepper and a little salt if needed – corned
beef is fairly salty already.
NB: Butter gives a better flavour than margarine, though olive oil would probably do.
175
Anti-fouling goes the distance.
A Dutch yacht recently slipped at Gulf Harbour after 12 years of cruising
illustrates that some anti-foul paint works better than others.
Lotus is a 12m Van der Stadt Caribbean Keeler built in 1990 in Holland. Owners Co and Carla
Zwetsloot used a number of anti-foul paints prior to beginning their world cruise in 1994, and
weren’t happy with the results.
Co elected to try Copper Coat – attracted by the product’s promise to provide anti-foul protection
as well as osmosis protection. “As a chemist I’m aware of the contents of traditional anti-foul
paint. Copper Coat is much safer for the marine environment in both its chemical components and
because it wears at a much slower rate.”
After their 1994 departure, the couple spent eight
years sailing locally (Holland, Northern Europe, England,
Scotland, the Shetland Islands and Norway). In 2002
they departed on the round-the-world-trip and have
been sailing ever since. So far, they’ve visited Gibraltar,
Morocco, the Canaries, El Salvador, Brazil, Uruguay,
Argentina (around Cape Horn), Chile, Bolivia, Ecuador,
Galapagos Islands, French Polynesia, Cook Islands,
Samoa and Tonga – before arriving in New Zealand. The
boat’s been slipped for a number of small repairs on
the rudder and keel, and routine maintenance. “We’ve
taken the opportunity to wash down the hull with a high
pressure hose and a partial recoat of anti-foul,” says Co.
“We’ve travelled 40,000 nautical miles on the first
application of Copper Coat, over a period of 12 years.
“The protection the product has provided is unparalleled,
both for anti-fouling and osmosis protection. Pulling the
boat out on the hardstand we were extremely happy to
see no signs of osmosis, especially when you see other
GRP boats coming out requiring substantial repairs.” Only minimal hull maintenance and cleaning
had been done over the last 12 years. It included a few scrubs with the brush in the water and one
standing against a wall at low tide for a pressure wash (at a total cost of US $25!).
“Needless to say it was a simple decision for us to continue using Copper Coat. Travelling in
remote regions of the world, many people carry extra anti-foul with them to re-do their boat as
they go. Copper Coat gives us the confidence that we won’t run
into these issues.
“Even though Copper Coat has a slightly higher initial cost over
other anti-fouls, its long lifespan and other benefits makes it far
cheaper in the long run.” (Taken from “Trade a Boat” Magazine,
New Zealand Feb 2007)
Tel: +44 (0)1258 861059
info@coppercoat.com www.coppercoat.com
176
BACK TO BRAC
David Bains
(David built his 39ft Derek Kelsall-designed trimaran Aqua Blue himself, starting work in
1972 and launching four years later. In 1989 he sailed her out to the Med, but is now toying
with the idea of moving her back west into the Atlantic. Not quite yet though...)
I resumed the never ending refit of Aqua Blue at Darsena Nautec marina in Monfalcone
in late June. My wife, Stella, joined me a few weeks later and we rove the last few
halyards together before exiting the Timavo river into the Gulf of Trieste on 8 July.
We motor-sailed to Piran in Slovenia, snapping away as we rounded the point, before
anchoring off the customs sheds at Bernadino. One conceals a supermarket with a
garage just behind and the other contained a temporary art exhibition. A bar and
band ashore did not keep me awake!
In the morning we bussed round to Piran to see the walls and cathedral, and enjoyed
the best ever iced coffee in the very attractive town square. Then we sailed round the
northwesterly point of Istria to enter Croatia at Umag, where we were shamelessly relieved
of 1330 kuna (about £156) for a cruising permit and 650 kuna (£76) for tourist tax! Leaving
the customs quay we ignored the marina and picked up a much cheaper council mooring.
I used the indispensable mast steps to refit the wind indicator before we set off south
again in light free winds to Lon Bay south of Rovinj. A few more jobs at anchor, then
we headed ashore for the good walk round to the town, eating well in Restaurant
Ready to launch
177
178
DB heading
south on AB!
Delphin on the front
and visiting the Sv
Eufemia basilica, which
was open for a change.
We had the usual
slight difficulty in raising
the anchor in Lon Bay
– not quite sure why as
there’d been no wind
overnight. We had to
motor-sail down past
Pula to Kamenjack, the
most southerly point
of Istria, but the light
southwesterly held so
I raised the gennaker
and we drifted across
to Unije, rounding the
north point to anchor at
the calm, shallow head of
Vognisca Bay just as the
light was going. After
a leisurely start in this
relaxing spot we reached
up the west coast of Cres
to enter the sheltered harbour. I managed to choose an indifferent restaurant but it’s
an interesting historic town, like so many in Croatia. Unusually for the Adriatic it was
quite hot all night, but we
were now up in the Gulf of
Kvarner which has a bit of a
reputation for summer heat
and winter boras!
Ashore early, we further
explored the old town
and stocked up. I couldn’t
resist buying fig and walnut
jam, which Stella later
managed to make at home
Cres outer harbour
179
Krk fort
in September! Leaving the helm to recover the anchor I briefly left the engine in
reverse, forgetting the power of the Kiwi prop, and nearly backed into another yacht –
won’t do that again! We motored north with a helpful current to round the top of Cres
under a thunderstorm, then sailed slowly south down the west coast of Krk to anchor
in Torkul for the night. At midday we motored round to Krk town to anchor in the
east bay right under the impressive castle walls. We walked the historic town in the
heat, but the basilica had shut at 1300 so we returned to the shade of the bimini and
pottered round to Punat entrance, which reminds me of Chichester harbour! Passing
inside Kosljun island with the centreboard raised, we anchored and rowed ashore to
visit the Franciscan monastery with its museum and church – I particularly wanted to
see the Ptolemaic atlas. It’s a pleasant island to walk around.
Temporary anchorage off the Frankish fort at Krk
180
We returned to Krk
town in the morning,
anchoring under the
Frankish castle. Quickly
ashore by the convenient
steps and gate, we visited
the Cathedral of the
Assumption with its
Roman columns and
1478 silver altar. Next
door is the church of St
Quirinas. Brief shopping
and much snapping –
it’s a photogenic place!
By mid-morning we
were motoring south
towards Rab, passing
the four campaniles on
the headland to anchor
Galley
off Palit. After dinner
slave
aboard we walked
over the headland to
fashionable Rab town
(there are fast ferries
from Rijeka), for iced
coffee in an old Venetian
loggia. The campaniles were open till 2200.
We rose early, pottered round to Rab harbour, and managed to get Aqua Blue’s 25ft
beam alongside the fuel quay. Patience and persistence are required to cope with the
queue jumping! Four hours motoring took us to Silba, where the northwesterly maestral
thankfully returned. Continuing under sail we rounded Ist and anchored at the head of
the shallow bay. Mist in Ist, pouring through the deckhatch, greeted us in the morning
– we could barely see the next boat. Quite unusual here, although it burned off by 1000.
In a light westerly we easily reached Zut, where you can anchor off the shore just east
of the marina, although I resist using a stern line unless it’s absolutely essential.
We motored southeast until the midday northwesterly allowed us to sail into Kakan
island anchorage at Potkucina for a swimming lunch. Later we reached over to Prvic to
anchor off the Hotel Maestral, whose wifi we value. Their restaurant also serves a good
steak – it’s one of my favourite spots in the Adriatic. An after-dinner walk north across
the island, past many tastefully converted old houses, some with housemartins’ or even
swifts’ nests, brought us to the harbour of Sepurine where I spotted an old Piver tri which
had obviously received lots of TLC. A very fresh northeasterly blew all night and I was
thankful for the Rocna and chain, although on this multihull it’s nylon after only 80ft.
181
Bobovisce,
on Brac island
From Prvic we continued south and east down to the Drevenik islands. Passing
between them under full sail we then reached north, with the heavy old bus touching
9 knots on the GPS, before passing through the narrow entrance to Vinisce Bay. I laid
out 100ft in 10ft of water and slowly the wind started to go down. Restaurant Mastrinka
served a very good fegato on its well shaded terrace. While at anchor all next morning,
Stella helped me to reseal various deck leaks and then I rewired the ’fridge yet again,
cool beer being essential! During the afternoon we drifted east along the north coast
of Solta before a light southwesterly to anchor in very shallow Bobovisce on Brac.
At 0700 swallows were using the rigging to feed their young, leading to much
photography, and we had to shoo the last few away as we left the harbour. Commencing
our clockwise circumnavigation of Brac, we passed Sutivan to anchor outside the
swimming beach buoys at Supetar. We continued to Splitska, where the western arm
is nearly all cordoned off for swimming, but we picked up a free buoy just north of the
charming village in the eastern arm. Amazingly there were two Farrier tris here, and
the Dutch skipper of Skater, the F31, told me he had trailed his from Holland!
The northwesterly arrived and blew straight into the port, but it’s tenable in good
weather. We left, however, and ran east to enter Pucisca, identifiable by the huge
quarry near its entrance. The wide channel, nearly a mile long, leads to a welcoming
harbour surrounded by impressive architecture, all in the local white stone made
famous by the White House in Washington DC. There was plenty of space on the
north quay, with water and electricity, for a pricey 220 kuna per night. There were no
other yachts on the wall, and only two in the inner harbour, despite it being late July.
Nearby were an internet café and a post office, with an air-conditioned supermarket
at 100 yards, very welcome in the prevailing heatwave.
182
With Pucisca exceeding our expectations, we had a ‘day off’ despite the cost of a
second night. Stella went back to work in the internet café before more sightseeing,
but by late afternoon siesta beckoned, even though it was 90°F in the cabin with three
fans on. Fortunately the harbour is clean enough for swimming. Then, as the sun
approached the rooftops, sightseeing recommenced. Pucisca was the highlight of our
trip, but the harbour is apparently very uncomfortable in the boras which blow very
strongly in this area – I suspect that’s why there are so few yachts there.
The following day we motored round to more sheltered Uvala Luka, which was
really too crowded. Nearby Povlja is another possible overnight stop, but this whole
area is a bora hotspot. We then continued around the east end of Brac and motorsailed across the Hvarski canal to Vrboska on the north coast of Hvar. A forecast
front made me decide against Jelsa, which is open to the north, so we anchored on
soft sand in the open bay of Vrboska entrance. On the beach was a gin palace, burnt
out and still smoking!
After a calm night the weather forecast prompted an early start. We motored over to
photograph Bol and Zlatni Rat sandspit, but the frontal cloud ensured we continued
tacking west, under cutter rig in the rising wind. Stella spotted the Hermitage monastery
as we passed the Blaca anchorage – we’ll revisit next year. We screeched through the
gap between Brac and Solta, strangely finding no wind on the north side although big
thunderheads were building behind Split. Returning to Bobovisce, we laid two anchors
inside a Polish Comanche cat. Another huge cat, Ocean’s Seven, followed us in.
AB moored at Pucisca, also on Brac island
183
Kastel Lucksic waterfront
Two days later we reached across to the Kastelanski Gulf, where the wind immediately
dropped and we hove-to in light rain for lunch. We then dropped anchor off mediaeval
Kastel Gomilica, just west of the huge marina which contains the charter yachts, to
explore the still occupied walls. We stopped again to visit Kastel Luksic, which has two
kastels, one upgraded to a modern library
and one still in private ownership where
we were invited to tour the gardens. Back
aboard we motored past Kastels Stari and
Novi, continuing west to anchor just east
of Trogir bridge, very close to the bus
station. There were the usual huge gin
palaces on the fashionable quay. In the
calm, hot morning of 28 July we were soon
ashore to visit the impressive cathedral,
now being extensively cleaned. After a
tour of the cloisters and more iced coffee
in the heat we returned to AB for Stella’s
bags, and she took the bus to Split airport,
actually only ten minutes from Trogir!
I had intended to stay at Trogir doing
maintenance, despite the cost, but on
Friday 30th a rising easterly under frontal
cloud made the anchorage uncomfortable.
I had some difficulty recovering the
A backstreet in Split
184
Diocletian’s palace
in Split
Rocna singlehanded,
even with the helmoperated windlass,
as weed jammed
the hawse pipe
necessitating trips
to the foredeck,
and later arrivals
had reduced the
manoeuvring room.
Then I tacked east
under the self-tacking
staysail and reefed
main to anchor off
Spinut, north of
Split, where I was
later joined by several other yachts. We all swung around during two thunderstorms
and two yachts dragged, one, unattended, right into the locals’ pontoons although
miraculously it missed various concrete blocks. The other yacht dragged its CQR right
past AB, and I emptied my gas foghorn to awaken the sleeping German skipper only
feet from the rocky breakwater.
The following morning the wind was forecast to return to the northwest, so I motored
round and spent the weekend anchored off Diocletian’s palace in Split. Maintenance
was combined with sightseeing. The old town is an incredible jumble of Roman and
mediaeval, most of it still occupied. Diocletian’s mausoleum is being cleaned, and now
shows the white Brac stone. The view from the later campanile is worth the climb for
the cool breeze and view. Strangely, on Monday morning, the harbourmaster’s launch
arrived and ejected all twenty yachts at anchor – he must have shares in the marina!
I motored west into the gulf again, and after a swimming lunch just west of Arbanija
on Ciovo re-anchored off Trogir bus station just in time to collect Humphrey, who
has been crewing on AB for most of thirty years.
We had an increasingly fast sail to Vis, where I’m fond of anchoring at Kut on the
east side of the large harbour. At Hvar we avoided the very crowded town harbour,
and spent the night in what I call the ‘lagoon’ at Marinkovac. Back at Vrboska we
headed up the fjord-like harbour, which has a very shallow quay on the north side
which is ideal for multihulls. My sister was holidaying on the island with her family
and we spent the weekend on the quay, grateful for their hospitality. Humphrey also
helped me renew two more saloon windows – I hope to make AB waterproof again!
On Monday 9 August we set off north, working our way back up the Dalmatian island
chain to the Gulf of Trieste and Monfalcone by the end of the month. We were
welcomed back into Darsena Nautec marina by Karl, the Austrian manager. Within
48 hours his friendly staff had craned AB out, and there she rests for another winter.
185
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We are pleased to provide a line of clothing and outerwear,
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186
OBITUARIES & APPRECIATIONS
Robert ‘Bob’ K Cassatt, II
Bob Cassatt passed away at Blue Hill Memorial Hospital on 22 September 2010 as a
result of injuries sustained in an automobile accident near his home in Brooksville,
Maine. Tragically, Bob was predeceased by his lovely wife Eve who died in the accident.
Bob was born in 1929 in Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania. He graduated from St Mark’s
School in Southborough, Massachusetts and attended Harvard University in nearby
Boston from 1947 to 1950, leaving before graduation to join the US Air Force. He
served his country for five years, flying 53 missions as a First Lieutenant pilot in
F-86 Sabre fighter-bombers during the later stages of the Korean War. After the
war, Bob flew a variety of fighter aircraft involved in an experimental programme.
Upon discharge, he went to work for Martin-Marietta Corporation in their flight test
department, where a group of engineers and ex-pilots was formed for the purpose of
evaluating aircraft from a ‘human engineering’ point of view. He worked on a variety
of projects ranging from aircraft to missiles, space vehicles and electronic systems.
After leaving Martin he did similar work for the US Army as a civilian engineer at
Aberdeen Proving Ground.
In 1972 Bob, his wife and children moved to Brooksville, Maine from Baltimore,
Maryland. He became deeply involved with his new community and served on
numerous boards. Bob was a Director of the Blue Hill Memorial Hospital, on the
Brooksville School Board, a Trustee of George Stevens Academy and Commodore
of the Bucks Harbor Yacht Club. In addition, Bob fished for lobster for ten years and
became engaged in building and restoring fine furniture.
After the death of his first wife, Sheila, in 1985, Bob devoted much of his time to
sailing and bluewater cruising. He joined the Ocean Cruising Club in 1993 and loved
attending OCC Rallies, and was always on the lookout for the Flying Fish burgee in
any anchorage he visited. Bob completed a transatlantic passage from Gran Canaria
to Antigua as well as some 36 ocean passages between Maine and the Caribbean on a
variety of boats, all named Querencia. Bob stopped in Bermuda so often that Bermuda
Harbor Radio would greet him personally and simply ask if he had all the same safety
equipment on board. Bob never had trouble lining up friends to sail with him as he
firmly believed that ‘a crew travels on its stomach’, so his crews were always well fed. Bob
also claimed to know the location of virtually every ice cream shop in the Caribbean.
Bob was a well-known, popular man in Bequia, his favorite winter hangout in later
years, and many local people would come out to Querencia to welcome him when he
entered the harbour. Bob helped several Bequians to start businesses, and was a generous
contributor to the Bequia Mission to help children.
On reaching the age of 65, and for the next 16 years, Bob participated in the Maine
Retired Skippers Race, held near his home. In 2010, just a month before he died, he was
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Eve and Bob
Cassatt
especially proud to
have been the first
skipper over 80
to cross the finish
line, and to be
placed 9th overall,
despite suffering
from Parkinson’s
disease. On these
races and earlier
ocean passages
he was always
surrounded
by friends and
shipmates who
shared his love of
the sea.
Bob will be remembered for his wonderful smile, his frequent laughter and his
generosity. All those who had the privilege of knowing and sailing with him will miss
him deeply.
Mike Poirier
Garrett Elliot ‘Connie’ Conover, Jr
Garrett Elliot ‘Connie’ Conover was born on 30 September 1929 in Orange, New
Jersey. In 1952 he graduated from the University of Vermont with a degree in geology,
and then served as a Lieutenant in the US Navy for four years.
Connie met his beloved wife Deedee on the ski slopes of Stowe, Vermont. They were
married in 1959 and raised four children in Shelburne, Massachusetts where Connie
owned and operated Franklin Ware Fuel in nearby Shelburne Falls. The entire family
became passionate about skiing and sailing.
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Connie Conover, who departed on
his final voyage in October 2010
In 1974 he purchased his first boat, a
Pearson 30, on which the family of six
(plus numerous friends and a dog) lived
aboard for three summers while cruising
the Maine coast. That same year Connie
and his family also started spending
more summer vacation time in Camden,
Maine. During the next ten years they
also sailed to Bermuda, Nova Scotia and
Newfoundland, where they explored the
south coast and St Pierre.
Connie and Deedee became the
lighthouse keepers on Curtis Island, at
the head of Camden Harbor, in 1980. For
thirty years Connie kept a watchful eye
out over Curtis Island, ensuring the light
station looked its best as it guided mariners in the vicinity and welcomed waterborne
visitors to one of Maine’s most beautiful harbours. He took his duty to keep the island
beautiful and safe for all very seriously, and spent the summer months welcoming
hundreds of visitors to his little slice of heaven.
1984 brought a larger boat, a Cape Dory 36 which they named Eendracht – ‘unity’
in Dutch – after the ship aboard which Connie’s great-great-grandfather sailed when
coming to America from Holland. In 1986 Connie, Deedee and their four grown
children crossed the Atlantic to Ireland with a stop in the Azores. For the next nine
years, during the months of May and June, the family explored Norway, northern Europe
and the Mediterranean, but always returned to Curtis Island in time for Connie to
resume his summer duties as lighthouse keeper. In 1994 the Conover family recrossed
the Atlantic to the Caribbean and returned to Camden in June 1995 having visited
twenty countries and logged more than 25,000 miles.
In retirement Connie achieved two of his lifelong goals – to sail across the Atlantic
Ocean and explore Europe’s shoreline with his family, and to spend two winters out
west ski bumming on the big mountains of Jackson Hole, Wyoming and Telluride,
Colorado. He later enjoyed spending the winter months at Sugarloaf where he often
was on the coveted ‘first chair of the day’.
Connie taught a variety of seamanship courses aboard Abigail at the WoodenBoat
School in Brooklin, Maine and built his own shellback dinghy of which he was
enormously proud. Lydia Rose was launched fully dressed and with great fanfare,
including bagpipes. Both his current boats, Sinbad (a Hinckley Southwest Junior built
in 1959) and the Lydia Rose played a prominent role in his memorial service.
189
Connie joined the Ocean Cruising Club in 1995 following a qualifying passage from
the Cape Verde islands to Tortola, BVI. He was also a member of the Cruising Club of
America and the Camden Yacht Club. Members of these clubs as well as many local
mariners fondly remember Connie’s welcoming wave as they passed Curtis Island
upon entering Camden Harbor, and his presence there will be greatly missed. In 2008
Connie welcomed a group of the OCC Maine Rally attendees to Curtis Island for a
tour of the lighthouse and the island.
Connie departed on his final voyage on 16 October 2010 after a battle with cancer.
He is survived by his wife Deedee and four children, David, Sue, Pete and Jen, as well
as their spouses and nine grandchildren, all of Camden. He was blessed to have spent
his final summer on Curtis Island surrounded by family and friends. Connie will be
fondly remembered by all who knew him for his positive attitude, adventurous spirit
and devotion to his family. To quote from a eulogy at Connie’s service, ‘He was an
extraordinary and beautiful man, uncommonly kind. He brought the idea of being
a ‘good person’ to a level that most people don’t even know exists, and he did it so
effortlessly, modestly and with extreme grace’.
Doug and Dale Bruce
Merryl Huxtable
Merryl Huxtable died on 16 October 2010 aged 54. She had two passions in her life
– her work as a paper conservator and sailing. She joined the Victoria and Albert
Museum in 1981 and as a senior paper conservator made a major contribution to
the conservation of many objects in paper, vellum and parchment. The Sackville
Pedigree on vellum, which is on permanent display in the British galleries at the
V&A, is testament to her meticulous work, which she managed to combine with
some remarkable voyages over considerable distances.
In 1990 she answered an advertisement to sail on a Contessa 32 in the Mediterranean,
and for several summers joined Rotan
Isle II to explore the Mediterranean
and Adriatic, including a passage to
Venice. In 1994 I met Merryl when
we both helped a mutual friend
sail his boat to Scotland. I quickly
realised what a wonderful crew she
was, and two months later she joined
me and two others to sail Aliki, our
Swan 37, back from Gibraltar to
Lymington. Two years later she
joined the three of us on Flight of
190
Time at Sal in the Cape Verde islands. I suspect that Merryl was probably the first
crew ever to join a boat at Sal, but little complications like that had never stopped
her, and when she found there was no skipper ashore to meet her she immediately
persuaded two young fishermen to row her out. In the Cape Verdes we saw Merryl’s
aptitude for making friends with people ashore. She never hesitated to plunge into
markets, negotiate with taxi drivers or bargain for local objects which she acquired
with all the passion of a collector.
Our passage to Barbados was one of the happiest voyages we have made and there
was no doubt that Merryl made a great contribution to this. She rejoined us for two
cruises in company on the East Coast of the USA, where she met John Gore Grimes.
This led to one of her major voyages, when in 1998 she sailed 4500 miles on Arctic
Fern to 78° North, spent a week locked in the ice, and ‘enjoyed’ the close proximity
of polar bears who came to visit. She was awarded the David Wallis Trophy for her
account of the cruise in Flying Fish 1999/2.
In 2000 Merryl negotiated a year’s sabbatical and sailed with us in Flight of Time from
Bequia to New Zealand. The voyage would have been impossible without her, but it was
Merryl’s contribution to our shore visits which ensured that this journey was so memorable
for Margaret and myself. Her collection of shells and woven baskets grew steadily, and
so did the number of people whom we met and got to know. Merryl’s love for the island
of Palmerston resulted two years later in my sailing upwind from New Zealand to meet
her in Rarotonga in order to revisit the island and the Marsters families who live there.
By 2004 Merryl had saved up enough holiday to join me in Darwin for the passage
to Singapore, and then the following year from Thailand to Turkey. As usual she
191
ensured that we made the most of our time ashore – not many crew would have found
out that it was the full moon festival at Bali and insisted that we went to the temple.
A passage of 7500 miles for two people can be arduous or it can be fun. With Merryl
it was fun, because she had such wonderful enthusiasm for all that we did and was
utterly reliable in caring for the boat.
Merryl continued to join us in the Mediterranean, and in 2009 it was planned
to complete the circumnavigation. Sadly, in that year Merryl was diagnosed with
cancer, and over the following 17 months she had three operations and received
chemotherapy almost continually. In August 2010 she joined us in South Brittany
for the final stage to Plymouth. Four days after our arrival she was readmitted to
hospital and died six weeks later.
Merryl demonstrated that it was possible to combine a highly responsible job with
sailing around the world. And there are few, even in the OCC, who have sailed to
78° North and 35° South.
Graham Morfey
Patricia Waller
Patricia Waller, who died in Jersey on 1 March 2011, inherited a spirit of adventure
from her father who was a distinguished Himalayan climber, though her childhood
with an aged aunt on a Scottish estate near Tobermory, where she was allowed to roam
the moors stalking deer and fishing, must also have had an influence. After the war
her parents settled in Kenya, but despite the efforts of their young daughter wielding a
pistol the Mau Mau eventually drove them to retire to Jersey in the Channel Islands,
where she piloted her father in Blue Roan through the rocks and fierce tides not only
of the islands but also the coast of France.
Pat Waller, with the
Fastnet light behind
192
Pat became a Gold Standard
Ski Instructor and Guide with
the Ski Club of Great Britain
and the Eagle Ski club and
climbed for several seasons
with very well-known ski tours
including the Haute Route.
Mont Blanc, the highest peak
in the Alps, and Kilabalu, the
highest mountain in southeast
Asia, were among her summits.
I first met her in 1973, high
on a mountain above St
Moritz where we learnt ski
mountaineering with Stuart
Ferguson. Returning from the
mountains to Jersey for periods
of work, she cruised with her
friends the Allo family aboard
Inversanda and got to know the
coasts and islands of Brittany
well.
In Jersey she met John
Vinrace, and together they
bought an old launch, a heroine
of Dunkirk named Melacita,
and cruised her through the
Seine and the canals of France.
After John’s death she did delivery trips with a professional yacht skipper and another
skiing friend in the Mediterranean. I met Pat again by chance in the Morbihan in 1986
or 1987, after which she crewed aboard Deerhound to and from the Azores, through the
rías of northwest Spain, along the south coast of Ireland and to Scotland.
She formed part of the OCC expedition to the Antarctic aboard Northanger in 2003,
sailing down past the Horn to the Peninsula where she was again able to ski – and
to become one of the few members of the Ski Club of Antarctica. Her peacekeeping
abilities helped avoid mutiny on more than one occasion during this adventure. In 2006
she helped Peter Haden, then Rear Commodore Ireland, complete the OCC Baltic
cruise and crewed with him back to Ireland aboard Papageno. Her last cruise was from
Madeira to Portugal via the Azores with Sue ‘Tiggy’ Thatcher aboard Tamar Swallow.
I called her SG (Sailing Gig), Tiggy called her Pandora. There were a few subjects
one did not dare to discuss as she had very strong views and, as we all have, a few
idiosyncrasies. She liked to ‘twitter’ when there was a difficult bit of pilotage or too
much shipping about. On one memorable night at sea she called the entire crew on
193
deck as she was convinced we were about to be run down by a ship whose masthead
light she could see, although she could not make out any navigation lights. Fortunately
it turned out to be the rising morning star.
Another memory is of a rough night aboard Deerhound. I was down below resting,
and after a heavy thud turned to the other crew member and said “Lady driver”,
whereupon there was a bang on the hatch. “You might need to think about a reef
soon” – SG was happily driving the 50ft Deerhound to windward, alone in the
cockpit under full sail, in a rising force 7.
Until near the very end she was convinced she could beat a virulent tumour
near her heart and another in the brain. Her deep religious faith and generosity to
Christian missionary causes sustained her. Now she is happily anchored in a sunlit
cove under a snow covered peak waiting to be climbed before she puts to sea again
on the next adventure.
Colin A Chapman
FROM THE GALLEY OF ... Gavin and Georgie McLaren,
aboard Margaret Wroughton
Tomato and Lentil Soup
Ingredients • 1 tbs oil
• 1 large onion, chopped
• 1 clove garlic, crushed
• 175g red lentils
• 400g can chopped tomatoes, or whole tomatoes crushed or chopped
• 750 ml vegetable stock
• 150 ml milk
• ½ tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
• 2 tbs tomato purée
• salt and black pepper to taste
• parsley to garnish
Heat the oil in a large pan and fry the onion and garlic until softened. Stir in the lentils,
stock, tomatoes, milk, Worcestershire sauce, tomato purée and seasoning. Bring to the
boil, then cover and simmer for an hour, adding extra liquid if required. Put through a
sieve. (If a chunkier soup is preferred do not sieve, or only sieve half the soup). Extra
stock can be substituted for the milk. Reheat and serve.
Delicious with crusty bread or ship’s biscuit during a cold night watch.

194
ADVERTISERS IN FLYING FISH
Adlard Coles Nautical (nautical almanacs, books and guides) .............................. 133
Ampair (wind and water generators) ......................................................................... 5
Astilleros Lagos (full service boatyard in NW Spain).............................................. 22
Berthon International (international yacht brokers) .............................................. 83
Beta Marine Ltd (marine diesel engines and generators) ................ inside back cover
Blue Water Supplies (blue water equipment specialist supplier) ........................... 101
Bruntons Propellers (feathering propellers for sailing yachts) ................................. 65
Camper & Nicholsons Marinas – Port Louis Marina, Grenada .............................. 42
Camper & Nicholsons Marinas – Çeşme
ş Marina, Turkey .................................... 116
Coppercoat (Aquarius Coatings) (10 year lifespan antifouling) ........................... 176
Digital Wave (passage planning software) ............................................................... 50
Essor Assurances / Admiral (yacht insurance) ................................. inside front cover
Furneaux Riddall (Spectra Watermakers) (desalinators for cruising yachts) .......... 49
Greenham Regis (marine electronics – sales, installation and service) .................. 84
GYMSIM (low-cost mobile phone service for cruisers) .......................................... 62
Hydrovane Self Steering Inc (wind vane self-steering systems) ............................ 159
Imray Laurie Norie & Wilson Ltd (charts and cruising guides) ............................ 160
MailASail (satellite communications) ..................................................................... 97
Marlec (Rutland) (wind and solar power systems) .................................................. 41
Mid Atlantic Yacht Services (services & chandlery for yachts in the Azores) ..... 147
Noonsite (World Cruising Club) (THE blue water cruisers’ information site) ..... 134
OCC Regalia, North America ............................................................................... 186
ROCNA Anchors (Marine Factors Ltd) (anchors that set in all conditions) ........ 79
Rodriguez Yacht Brokerage (yacht brokers) ............................................................. 41
Sanders Sails (sailmakers) ...................................................................................... 115
Scanmar International (wind vane self-steering systems) ..................................... 172
Seajet Paints (complete range of marine paints) ..................................................... 64
Sillette Sonic Ltd (marine propulsion specialists) ................................................. 102
Tilley Endurables (Hats) (keep the sun at bay) ....................................................... 21
Topsail Insurance (yacht and travel insurance specialist) ............. outside back cover
Wayfarer Marine Corporation (refit and repair boatyard in Maine) ....................... 98
Please support advertisers by giving consideration to their products or services,
and mention the OCC and Flying Fish when replying to advertisements. Details of
advertising rates and deadlines will be found overleaf.
195
ADVERTISEMENTS
RATES:
Advertising is sold on a two consecutive issues basis
Inside pages
Full page colour ...................£265 (for two issues)
Half page colour...................£160 (for two issues)
Cover pages
Inside front cover colour ................ £500 (for two issues)
Inside back cover colour ................ £500 (for two issues)
Outside back cover colour.............. £800 (for two issues)
A 10% discount is available to OCC members
COPY:
Copy should be supplied as a high res PDF, JPEG or EPS file, at a resolution
of 300 dpi (118 dpcm) at finished size. If at all possible please accompany
this large file with a low res PDF which can be used for tracking purposes.
Full page : 180 x 120mm (type area); 214 x 145mm (with bleed area)
Half page : 85 x 120mm (type area); 107 x 145mm (with bleed area)
Alternatively, copy can be typeset by our printers,
but additional costs may be passed on to the advertiser.
DEADLINES:
Advertisements are accepted for inclusion on a ‘first come, first served’ basis.
Space may not permit all advertisements to be accepted, but please try!
Latest possible dates by which orders must be received are:
14 October 2011 for Flying Fish 2011/2
14 February 2012 for Flying Fish 2012/1
ENQUIRIES AND ORDERS TO:
Dick Moore, Moonfleet, Vicarage Lane
Hordle, Lymington, Hants SO41 0HS
Tel: 01425 629995
e-mail: advertising@oceancruisingclub.org
Printed by Bungay Printers, 4b Market Place, Bungay, Suffolk NR35 1AW
Tel: (01986) 892913, Fax: (01986) 896600, e-mail tony@bungayprinters.com
196
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198