Thursday 31st starts off boring grey and windy and becomes distinctly more unpleasant when the wind decides to drop in strength and go round in circles. The sky lowers to the sea so we are enveloped in grey drizzle. The waves stay huge and confused so we are thrown around without the benefit of a consistent wind to stabilise us and hold us upright. Our sails slat and crash around uselessly and poor old Betty the Beta is called up for a long slog of duty. So much has spilt in the cool box fridge thingy that a total empty out and disenfecting session is called for. A pain in the butt at zero heel, but at an irregular +/-30 degree fling, the job calls for patience.
As for progress, the current slow boring grey lumpy damp conditions are expected to last another 36 hours!
Note that at sea, we only use the radio spasmodically as there are only certain times when propagation for digital data is possible. When transmitting, we need to have both crew up, the engine running, and one of us on the wheel. Usually David has to extend his watch to do the steering, as Mike is the radio comms person. The engine has to be used because digital data transmissions use 100% full power continuously. Transmission can also cause much interference to navigation and autohelm systems. Finding and establishing contact with a sailmail base station in range and which is not busy can also take ages.
Progress has been disappointingly slow so far, but we will shortly be 1 month and over 3000 miles from St Barts, with 6 or 7 days left to go to the Fastnet Rock off SW Ireland.
M&D on R
Thursday, 31 May 2012
27th - 30th May - Frustrating last days of a seagoing month
Sunday 27th, was a rainy but pleasant day of preps, shopping, customs, immigration, berth payment etc and a final visit to Peter's bar for steak, chips, and beer. Also met many old friends and acquaintances. We slipped from Horta at 1000 on Monday 28th with waves and farewells to friends old and new. A pleasant rolly quartering wind and sea takes us goosewinged out between the islands to give us a glimpse of Pico, Terceria, and Graciosa. Pico's huge peak seems permanently covered in a cloud cap, and the island is often in shade and looking a bit gloomy. Finally clear of land by 1800 and back into a big ocean swell. We are overtaken by a huge modern ketch with carbon bowsprit, counter stern, and teak deckhouses. She is strange mix of victorian, edwardian and space age and not to everyone's taste.
Studying our weather advice in detail makes us wonder if it was wise to leave as there is a big low with a gale forming up just to the N and W of us. We will need to get some easting in PDQ if we are not to be hammered too much. Skipper's pork escalopes and spuds for supper and we get the storm jib lashed on deck. At sunset we are passed by Scandanavian square-rigger Gunilla, a jolly fine sight.
Night falls to give us an orange segment of moon, and a flurry of dolphin visits.
Tuesday 29th is a working breezy day starting with spicy mushroom scrambled eggs. We manage some poled out off-wind sailing and try to receive Herb (The famous Atlantic weather man) on the SSB hiss-box. During the day, the Atlantic rollers start building big-time, and we start reefing down as the wind rises before the large developing low northwest of us. By nightfall it is chilly and dark, as the skipper curses galley spillages and crashes needed to get out a chicken curry. Using all our balancing skills, we have our curry and beer below decks . Later on, rising wet and misty winds, and the occasional narrowly missed passing ships seen through the murk, and on ais, enliven our watchkeeping.
Wednesday 30th is hugely windy and rolly with mighty waves tossing us about scarily. The gale is set to last all day and well into tomorrow. Autohelm is doing a sterling job, although power use will mean more engine running. At least the rain is holding off. By 1800 we have huge following seas, so we decide to drop the main and run under rolled genoa . This makes us even more rolly but is less of a steering load.
Studying our weather advice in detail makes us wonder if it was wise to leave as there is a big low with a gale forming up just to the N and W of us. We will need to get some easting in PDQ if we are not to be hammered too much. Skipper's pork escalopes and spuds for supper and we get the storm jib lashed on deck. At sunset we are passed by Scandanavian square-rigger Gunilla, a jolly fine sight.
Night falls to give us an orange segment of moon, and a flurry of dolphin visits.
Tuesday 29th is a working breezy day starting with spicy mushroom scrambled eggs. We manage some poled out off-wind sailing and try to receive Herb (The famous Atlantic weather man) on the SSB hiss-box. During the day, the Atlantic rollers start building big-time, and we start reefing down as the wind rises before the large developing low northwest of us. By nightfall it is chilly and dark, as the skipper curses galley spillages and crashes needed to get out a chicken curry. Using all our balancing skills, we have our curry and beer below decks . Later on, rising wet and misty winds, and the occasional narrowly missed passing ships seen through the murk, and on ais, enliven our watchkeeping.
Wednesday 30th is hugely windy and rolly with mighty waves tossing us about scarily. The gale is set to last all day and well into tomorrow. Autohelm is doing a sterling job, although power use will mean more engine running. At least the rain is holding off. By 1800 we have huge following seas, so we decide to drop the main and run under rolled genoa . This makes us even more rolly but is less of a steering load.
Sunday, 27 May 2012
22-27 May – Horta - The mid-Atlantic interlude
Tuesday 22nd continued squally and rolly but moderating enough to get the main up with 3, but eventually 2, reefs. A standard working day with average progress and more ships appearing. Squalls and big seas reappeared on Tuesday night but with the wind now well aft on our port quarter so we are sailing at a good speed on a near gybing course. By the early hours of Wednesday, the distant glow of the Azores in visible and by 0400 we can see the peak of Pico (which, despite being 500 miles offshore is claimed as the highest Portuguese mountain). Our dawn approach to Faial is a bit tricky because we have constant showers and squalls, and a ginormous following sea, and are close to gybing, but we manage to gradually ease around to skim the south face of the island, and begin our approach to the capital, and major port, Horta. So, on day 22 (21.5 days, 2700 miles from St Barts) we secure alongside the visitors pontoon at Horta marina, clear customs, and formally re-enter Europe, some 6 months after leaving the Canaries.
Our time in Horta is spent on boat work and provisioning, and eating normal solid food, always with chips.David got the job of painting the ship’s crest on the wall, along with the 10,000 others here. Every surface, bollard, structure, wall, jetty, etc is covered with 1000’s of badges and names. Dockside shops even sell the paints and brushes for the job.
Alas the weather hasn’t been good enough for island sight-seeing, but Horta itself is a pleasant enough place with plenty of old buildings to see.
Good bars and restaurants with local Portuguese fare, and we even happened on a great Fado night in a local cafe, with great singers and musicians. Wasn’t a fan before but now truly converted.
The harbour is rapidly filling with ocean travelling yachts as this is the beginning of the Atlantic return crossing season and Horta’s busiest time. We are lucky to get a decent berth as more recent arrivals are being rafted up by day 3. We’ve managed to catch up and renew friendships with lots of familiar faces and boats from our trip out and from the WI’s.
By Sunday 27th, its raining heavily and we’ve delayed our sailing date by a day so far as a great big low is forming up and we are all waiting to see what it does. Time for more jobs below.
We are still looking at a 10 day dash to Kinsale, probably with big following winds, so we need to have our downwind procedures well organised. More poling out practice when the rain stops.
M & D
Raparee, Horta, Faial, Azores
Friday, 25 May 2012
20th - 22nd May - Last few days 'afore the Azores
Sunday continued totally windless in the big High below thw islands, but with a big swell and sea so we are rolling heavily. After days of headwinds, everything on deck is salty and stiff. Ropes and canvas are rigid. Wires are frosted white.
Managed some jobs on deck like tightening rigging, albeit with great difficulty due to boat's motion. Celebrated our totally windless respite with lunch in the cockpit and managed to have music all day. Also managed our first ever Sundown G&T, followed by skippers best curry, followed by a flat calm motoring night under a huge starry sky.
Monday morning early, and up comes a wind from aft which makes us very rolly in a queasy and noisy jib collapsing way. Skipper suffering painfully from Ibuprofen back...due to yesterday's deck work..
Wind develops rapidly during the afternoon and to an alarming level by tea-time. Jolly big waves and much moaning in the rigging. Our fault, we have entered the fast east-going airstream between a very low low just above the Azores and a very high high just below them. The barometer starts to fall rapidly from an astonishing 1038 and stayed falling all day and night down to 1016. It was clear that we were in for a bit of a blow so talk turned to storm sails. Eventually, the thought of battling with these on a wildly heaving deck made us go with a simple sail reduction to start with. Eventually, after a struggle, we got the main down altogther and wobbled along all night under a well furled genoa. The evening and night turned out to be very rough, very windy, very cold, very noisy, very wild, and very wet. Emergency sustenance was a huge tin of M.Carrefour's Ravioli, with just a bit of Carib spice. Monster waves all round. Ambient wind was 27 to 33 knots, with squalls to over 40 knots. Cabin washboards in place against uninvited wavy visitors. Working below a bit like being in a NASA centrifuge. Really nasty off-putting session.
Tuesday 22 showed some moderating, although still rolling in a big confused sea Managed to get the main up and fill ourselves with skipper's special spicy porridge and coffee. Sun is out at last and we're on course now for Horta, only 90 nm away, so may get there for tomorrow (Wednesday) lunch. Spoke to our Danish friends on Dania by radio and they are just 60 miles behind. Hopefully we can have mutual Azorean beer sampling sessions once alongside.
Position Tue 22 2040Z now 38n; 30w. just 90 odd miles sw of Horta.
Mike & Dave on RAPAREE
Managed some jobs on deck like tightening rigging, albeit with great difficulty due to boat's motion. Celebrated our totally windless respite with lunch in the cockpit and managed to have music all day. Also managed our first ever Sundown G&T, followed by skippers best curry, followed by a flat calm motoring night under a huge starry sky.
Monday morning early, and up comes a wind from aft which makes us very rolly in a queasy and noisy jib collapsing way. Skipper suffering painfully from Ibuprofen back...due to yesterday's deck work..
Wind develops rapidly during the afternoon and to an alarming level by tea-time. Jolly big waves and much moaning in the rigging. Our fault, we have entered the fast east-going airstream between a very low low just above the Azores and a very high high just below them. The barometer starts to fall rapidly from an astonishing 1038 and stayed falling all day and night down to 1016. It was clear that we were in for a bit of a blow so talk turned to storm sails. Eventually, the thought of battling with these on a wildly heaving deck made us go with a simple sail reduction to start with. Eventually, after a struggle, we got the main down altogther and wobbled along all night under a well furled genoa. The evening and night turned out to be very rough, very windy, very cold, very noisy, very wild, and very wet. Emergency sustenance was a huge tin of M.Carrefour's Ravioli, with just a bit of Carib spice. Monster waves all round. Ambient wind was 27 to 33 knots, with squalls to over 40 knots. Cabin washboards in place against uninvited wavy visitors. Working below a bit like being in a NASA centrifuge. Really nasty off-putting session.
Tuesday 22 showed some moderating, although still rolling in a big confused sea Managed to get the main up and fill ourselves with skipper's special spicy porridge and coffee. Sun is out at last and we're on course now for Horta, only 90 nm away, so may get there for tomorrow (Wednesday) lunch. Spoke to our Danish friends on Dania by radio and they are just 60 miles behind. Hopefully we can have mutual Azorean beer sampling sessions once alongside.
Position Tue 22 2040Z now 38n; 30w. just 90 odd miles sw of Horta.
Mike & Dave on RAPAREE
Tuesday, 22 May 2012
18th - 20th May - Not long to Horta
Position 1800 GMT Sunday 20th: 34d16N; 33d24W After a hectic few days on our ear sailing upwind into 22 knot easterlies in big seas, the wind has just,....sort of.....gone!. Totally windless. All we're left with is an annoying swell. We're in the middle of a huge 1035 High and now we're motoring NE along the 400 miles left to go to Horta on the Azorean island of Faial. Of one thing we are certain though...the wind will be back - with a vengeance. From Monday evening onwards there will be a jet blast of westerlies (up to 30 knots) passing south of the Azores and we will have to pass through this, probably on Tuesday and Wednesday. As for the last few days, not much to report. 1 more Dorado, now eaten. Much watchkeping and sleeping at crazy angles. Much pounding into waves and spray. Big skies, inky black seas, scudding squalls and clouds. No whales. Lots of jellyfish. Lots of reefing and unreefing. No rest for the wicked. So maybe today, motoring Sunday, can be rest day. On the other hand there's all those jobs on the skipper's list to be done
16-18 May: The (upwind) Struggle for the Azores continues
Our position at 1300 GMT on Friday 18th is 32d24N 35d23W.
This position puts us right in the middle of the creation point of Atlantic tropical depressions and storms. All around us great towering cumulus clouds gather strength and create huge air movements and torrents of rain. Our wind speed varies from 15 to 25 knots in seconds. Each mini-system is individually hand-crafted and sent majestically off onto the western horizon. Some may coalesce and pick up energy from the warming sea as they travel towards the Caribbean. This, after all, is the start of the tropical hurricane season, and the reason we are making a timely exit eastwards.
Now we are getting used to this ocean passage thingy, we have finally got ourselves into some routines. Our formal 3 hour watch-keeping roster covers the night hours only, starting at 2100. The first person on alternates nightly, so that we stagger our sleep patterns, and this seems to work well. Only half the day is now spent in tired irritable bickering. The other half is spent dozing, mumbling, and dribbling.
Our only long distance comms is by an old ICOM 710 HF Marine SSB radio. This can be used for normal voice via a microphone, or as a data transmitter using a Pactor digital Modem and a Netbook computer. For the digital service we pay an annual subscription to an Association which runs several receiving stations round the world. These stations post and receive our e-traffic on/off the internet e-mail system. E-mail can only be passed slowly by SSB radio and even short ones take a long time if reception is poor. Because of the time and power taken its often necessary to run the engine as well.
With long established north-easterlies we have been battling along on Port tack now for over a week. This is awkward and means that everything onboard gradually drifts in one direction. Water finds its way into lockers that have been dry for years and once-tidy shelves and cupboards become chaotic. David is offering cheap left leg shortening operations if this continues.
Whatever the conditions, we always have our main meal sitting at the saloon table, but cooking and eating at extreme angles, as in squalls, can be very testing, requiring heroic balancing acts and great ingenuity in the use of such things as wedges and rubber mats. Clean clothes don't stay that way for long.
Monty Monitor, the servo windvane, has been hard at work for 3 days and, as long as the boat is balanced properly, is an amazing machine in operation and to watch. Under the Monitor, we closely follow the twists and shifts of the wind, rather than a compass course, and therefore wind forecasts need to be taken account of in our navigation. Using the monitor also means the engine needs only be run for half the time. An odd downside of this is that the fridge gets charged less often.
David has made a chunky fishing rod using a pipe and a big reel and a length of bungee to tether it to a winch. With it we are using a strange yellow heavy lure thing. Our handline is trailed to stbd and the rod line to port. On Thursday night, waves caused us to heave-to twice and turn 360 so that both lines became terminally tangled. One line is now covered in alien goo, the result of a nocturnal knock-up with a PMOW. The goo produces instant rashes, and the line is now quarantined.
On Wednesday and Thursday, David tried his hand at two Ciabetta loaves. Although both were aesthetically pleasant neither was edible by humans and they have now been donated to science as the highest density material known to man.
Last night, we had a big black sky with the mighty arc of the MW above us. Huge plumes of phosphorescence stream aft into the blackness and all the star stars have come out to play.
Our position at 1300 on Friday 18th is 32d24N 35d23W. We are well reefed down, making about 5.5 knots Easterly in big boisterous seas and are about 540 miles SSW of the Azores. We are awaiting a slight wind shift which may make it favourable for us to tack to the North. We think we will stop at Horta (poss 23rd or 24th) on the small island of Faial to reprovision and prepare ourselves for the 1200 mile Atlantic flog to SW Ireland.
M & D on R
This position puts us right in the middle of the creation point of Atlantic tropical depressions and storms. All around us great towering cumulus clouds gather strength and create huge air movements and torrents of rain. Our wind speed varies from 15 to 25 knots in seconds. Each mini-system is individually hand-crafted and sent majestically off onto the western horizon. Some may coalesce and pick up energy from the warming sea as they travel towards the Caribbean. This, after all, is the start of the tropical hurricane season, and the reason we are making a timely exit eastwards.
Now we are getting used to this ocean passage thingy, we have finally got ourselves into some routines. Our formal 3 hour watch-keeping roster covers the night hours only, starting at 2100. The first person on alternates nightly, so that we stagger our sleep patterns, and this seems to work well. Only half the day is now spent in tired irritable bickering. The other half is spent dozing, mumbling, and dribbling.
Our only long distance comms is by an old ICOM 710 HF Marine SSB radio. This can be used for normal voice via a microphone, or as a data transmitter using a Pactor digital Modem and a Netbook computer. For the digital service we pay an annual subscription to an Association which runs several receiving stations round the world. These stations post and receive our e-traffic on/off the internet e-mail system. E-mail can only be passed slowly by SSB radio and even short ones take a long time if reception is poor. Because of the time and power taken its often necessary to run the engine as well.
With long established north-easterlies we have been battling along on Port tack now for over a week. This is awkward and means that everything onboard gradually drifts in one direction. Water finds its way into lockers that have been dry for years and once-tidy shelves and cupboards become chaotic. David is offering cheap left leg shortening operations if this continues.
Whatever the conditions, we always have our main meal sitting at the saloon table, but cooking and eating at extreme angles, as in squalls, can be very testing, requiring heroic balancing acts and great ingenuity in the use of such things as wedges and rubber mats. Clean clothes don't stay that way for long.
Monty Monitor, the servo windvane, has been hard at work for 3 days and, as long as the boat is balanced properly, is an amazing machine in operation and to watch. Under the Monitor, we closely follow the twists and shifts of the wind, rather than a compass course, and therefore wind forecasts need to be taken account of in our navigation. Using the monitor also means the engine needs only be run for half the time. An odd downside of this is that the fridge gets charged less often.
David has made a chunky fishing rod using a pipe and a big reel and a length of bungee to tether it to a winch. With it we are using a strange yellow heavy lure thing. Our handline is trailed to stbd and the rod line to port. On Thursday night, waves caused us to heave-to twice and turn 360 so that both lines became terminally tangled. One line is now covered in alien goo, the result of a nocturnal knock-up with a PMOW. The goo produces instant rashes, and the line is now quarantined.
On Wednesday and Thursday, David tried his hand at two Ciabetta loaves. Although both were aesthetically pleasant neither was edible by humans and they have now been donated to science as the highest density material known to man.
Last night, we had a big black sky with the mighty arc of the MW above us. Huge plumes of phosphorescence stream aft into the blackness and all the star stars have come out to play.
Our position at 1300 on Friday 18th is 32d24N 35d23W. We are well reefed down, making about 5.5 knots Easterly in big boisterous seas and are about 540 miles SSW of the Azores. We are awaiting a slight wind shift which may make it favourable for us to tack to the North. We think we will stop at Horta (poss 23rd or 24th) on the small island of Faial to reprovision and prepare ourselves for the 1200 mile Atlantic flog to SW Ireland.
M & D on R
Wednesday, 16 May 2012
Sat 12- Tues 15 May - Still doing the slow crawl
Hello from way in the mid Atlantic by the wonders of young Mr Marconi's new radio telephony.
We are slowly tacking our way north eastwards towards the Azores. We are about 750 miles SW of them. The wind is dead on the nose so its painfully slow. Fortunately not horrible weather though, just slow. May have to throw the horses overboard. I've starting practicing for this already but using cockroaches and tea bags as we are great friends with the horses now. Not so with the goats as their butts are very annoying.
Hopefully we will get to the island of Faial (wasn't he deposed and shot?), capital Horta, in about a week to stock up on salted weevils, barrels of brine, hard tack, and tallow. We'll leave there heading North towards Ireland, a 1200 mile trip of about 10 days.
Every morning, Dave dons his ancient medieval red Doge-hat (as in Venice) and sets the fishing line astern trailing its pink plastic squid-skirt lures. This only seems to bring on squalls & rain. Certainly no tuna or marlin. The sea herabouts seems only populated by Portuguese Men-of-War jellyfish. Large pink jobs with errect sails and huge long near lethal tendrils. Probably not a good area for swimming.
Although we're only at 30's latitudes, the stiff easterlies mean it's chilly at night and early morning and for the first time in a year the heater has been brought into life. Skipper's blood certainly has become thin.
Using our shore weather support and occasional snatches on radio of Herb, the weather guru, we are trying our best to work our way North and East, but our progress to the Azores has been drastically slowed by consistent easterlies on the nose, and we have had to continuously revise our planning dates.
Alas, 2-handed sailing, and its alternating 3 hour watches, does not give much whalebone carving time, but we do lighten the day by inane conversation and entirely forgettable philosophising. The sort of mental and verbal rubbish you might expect an engineer and a medical man to trade in. With David's dictionary we also dabble haltingly in the old home tongue, and yesterday translated 2 filthy jokes and the whole of Ozymandias into our best school Irish and thought ourselves the bees knees. Skipper's mixed music machine is now allowed to play daily, although David winces visibly and goes into hiding at the sounds of Dylan or Black Sabbath. He nods approvingly to that Wagner chap's opera and its nehbehlungs (sp?) and chuckles to Mozart.
Now out of mainland bread we have been baking with excellent results, and may even diversify later into pastries and other delicacies. We are already making the paper doylies.
Monty the Monitor wind vane has at last been called into service after being sidelined for misbehaviour last year. Despite a severe battering against the wall in St Barts, he is now performing very well. One advantage Monty has over Ray, the electronic autohelm, is that he naturally exploits windshifts and will follow any changes that will allow us to claw our way north easterly.
When the skies are clear, we are lit by Venus shine and phosphorescence, while above us there is an unbelievable cloud of stars of every colour and type. Don't know what it all means. Must get a star map and learn some of this stuff.
Ho hum. Time to get back on watch and carry on the uphill crawl.
Position: 31 North, 40 West. 0530 utc Weds 16th
M & D on R
We are slowly tacking our way north eastwards towards the Azores. We are about 750 miles SW of them. The wind is dead on the nose so its painfully slow. Fortunately not horrible weather though, just slow. May have to throw the horses overboard. I've starting practicing for this already but using cockroaches and tea bags as we are great friends with the horses now. Not so with the goats as their butts are very annoying.
Hopefully we will get to the island of Faial (wasn't he deposed and shot?), capital Horta, in about a week to stock up on salted weevils, barrels of brine, hard tack, and tallow. We'll leave there heading North towards Ireland, a 1200 mile trip of about 10 days.
Every morning, Dave dons his ancient medieval red Doge-hat (as in Venice) and sets the fishing line astern trailing its pink plastic squid-skirt lures. This only seems to bring on squalls & rain. Certainly no tuna or marlin. The sea herabouts seems only populated by Portuguese Men-of-War jellyfish. Large pink jobs with errect sails and huge long near lethal tendrils. Probably not a good area for swimming.
Although we're only at 30's latitudes, the stiff easterlies mean it's chilly at night and early morning and for the first time in a year the heater has been brought into life. Skipper's blood certainly has become thin.
Using our shore weather support and occasional snatches on radio of Herb, the weather guru, we are trying our best to work our way North and East, but our progress to the Azores has been drastically slowed by consistent easterlies on the nose, and we have had to continuously revise our planning dates.
Alas, 2-handed sailing, and its alternating 3 hour watches, does not give much whalebone carving time, but we do lighten the day by inane conversation and entirely forgettable philosophising. The sort of mental and verbal rubbish you might expect an engineer and a medical man to trade in. With David's dictionary we also dabble haltingly in the old home tongue, and yesterday translated 2 filthy jokes and the whole of Ozymandias into our best school Irish and thought ourselves the bees knees. Skipper's mixed music machine is now allowed to play daily, although David winces visibly and goes into hiding at the sounds of Dylan or Black Sabbath. He nods approvingly to that Wagner chap's opera and its nehbehlungs (sp?) and chuckles to Mozart.
Now out of mainland bread we have been baking with excellent results, and may even diversify later into pastries and other delicacies. We are already making the paper doylies.
Monty the Monitor wind vane has at last been called into service after being sidelined for misbehaviour last year. Despite a severe battering against the wall in St Barts, he is now performing very well. One advantage Monty has over Ray, the electronic autohelm, is that he naturally exploits windshifts and will follow any changes that will allow us to claw our way north easterly.
When the skies are clear, we are lit by Venus shine and phosphorescence, while above us there is an unbelievable cloud of stars of every colour and type. Don't know what it all means. Must get a star map and learn some of this stuff.
Ho hum. Time to get back on watch and carry on the uphill crawl.
Position: 31 North, 40 West. 0530 utc Weds 16th
M & D on R
Saturday, 12 May 2012
Friday 11- Saturday 12 May
The plod goes on. Our position today 1200UTC: 31d20N 47d42W Thursday and Friday night provided some very rough passage making against some big trade-winds seas and very variable winds and squalls. By today, Saturday, morning we are bashing along upwind on stbd tack doing our best to get at least some easting and northing against this steady Easterly nor-easterly (ie from where we want to go!). As long as we can manage to keep some easterly slant in our course we'll keep on this one. Whenever it changes and heads us we'll tack and try to head further east, or even better east North east. We will also need some 'catch-up' time shortly to attend to minor defects and adjustments and to water and fuel ship from containers. With a heavily slanting and very wet deck its not safe or easy to transfer such stuff. Perhaps we may heave-to later today.
Weather info from UK has been terrific. Obviously quite a bit of effort involved. I share it with our 'chummy boat', just in sight about 10 miles abreast of us, Dania, a steel Danish sloop with 3 youngish persons aboard.
We've done about 1350 miles from St Barths, and about 1100 to go to Azores, so we allowed ourselves a halfway beer with Skipper's Friday night Chili.
We've finally ditched the last of Doris the Dorado and now trying for more sealife. Dave has promised to do a seafood Risotto with whatever we catch (Japanese knotweed and polystyrene risotto anyone?)
M & D on R
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Weather info from UK has been terrific. Obviously quite a bit of effort involved. I share it with our 'chummy boat', just in sight about 10 miles abreast of us, Dania, a steel Danish sloop with 3 youngish persons aboard.
We've done about 1350 miles from St Barths, and about 1100 to go to Azores, so we allowed ourselves a halfway beer with Skipper's Friday night Chili.
We've finally ditched the last of Doris the Dorado and now trying for more sealife. Dave has promised to do a seafood Risotto with whatever we catch (Japanese knotweed and polystyrene risotto anyone?)
M & D on R
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Wednesday, 9 May 2012
Tue 8th May
A busy rolling along day on a big quartering sea with very fresh but variable winds. Constant course and sail tweaking required. With just 2 on board, this trip would be many times more difficult without our autohelm which is doing a fantastic job in these conditions. We always check to see that sails are set so as to make the boat as balanced as possible and this helps to relieve the load on the autohelm. We do also have a Monitor wind vane system but this can be time consuming and complicated to set up so we need to wait for more settled conditions before tackling the job. For supper tonight, skipper produced yet another variant of the remaining 40 tons of slightly mouldy Dorado on board and any future Dorado based meals will be of the curried variety.
Like an ant crawling across a hangar floor, we have a long way to go and haven't a clue what fate has in store for us. Cerrtainly the incessant awkward and irregular boat movement can be maddening, and any thoughts of endless hours of carving whale tusks, holystoning, and hornpipe jigging must be put aside.
Not only have jumpers and thermals appeared, but also, god forbid, a sleeping bag. We must have gone soft as we're still only 29N. It just feels damn cold in the Atlantic squalls.
MB still sweaty palmed and stomach clenched about continuing mast noises. This would be a lonely place to have any major problems, as no boats, ships or planes for many 100's of miles from here. Have to man up and face the challenge I guess. Have to keep telling ourselves there are people who do this sort of thing multiple times and still appear sane.
Trying with difficulty to keep going due East to remain on the correct side of any systems wich may be forming just ahead and N of us. Difficult to do because the quartering wind and waves make a our easterly very broad reach hard to manage. We keep slewing north and therefore our track may be in danger of meeting with or even going the wrong side of weather patterns ahead. Ideally, we need to keep south of these weather systems until we can be 'slingshot' up to the Azores after they have passed.
Midnight/End of Tuesday position was 29d08n 53d00w. Course East about 5.7 to 6.7 kts.
Like an ant crawling across a hangar floor, we have a long way to go and haven't a clue what fate has in store for us. Cerrtainly the incessant awkward and irregular boat movement can be maddening, and any thoughts of endless hours of carving whale tusks, holystoning, and hornpipe jigging must be put aside.
Not only have jumpers and thermals appeared, but also, god forbid, a sleeping bag. We must have gone soft as we're still only 29N. It just feels damn cold in the Atlantic squalls.
MB still sweaty palmed and stomach clenched about continuing mast noises. This would be a lonely place to have any major problems, as no boats, ships or planes for many 100's of miles from here. Have to man up and face the challenge I guess. Have to keep telling ourselves there are people who do this sort of thing multiple times and still appear sane.
Trying with difficulty to keep going due East to remain on the correct side of any systems wich may be forming just ahead and N of us. Difficult to do because the quartering wind and waves make a our easterly very broad reach hard to manage. We keep slewing north and therefore our track may be in danger of meeting with or even going the wrong side of weather patterns ahead. Ideally, we need to keep south of these weather systems until we can be 'slingshot' up to the Azores after they have passed.
Midnight/End of Tuesday position was 29d08n 53d00w. Course East about 5.7 to 6.7 kts.
Monday, 7th May
Firstly, thanks for help and advice from shore on routeing and weather.You know who you are.
Anyway, In the early hours of pitch blackness this morning MB climbs the rocky rolly mast to investigate the lower spreader area knocking noises, and brings with him a can of WD40 to lubricate any moving parts. On reaching 1st crosstrees, after much struggling, discovers the complete nozzle has gone from the can. Loud cursing and descent.
Early AM David catches large Dorado and is exultant, but skipper grumpy again as this means his off-watch sleep has come to a premature end. Big handsome fish is 6kg and is well beyond our needs. David sets off butchering with saw and bolt-croppers. We end up with 6 enormous chunks, almost too big for our fridge.
The morning is squally and rainy with gusts up to 30kts, so, in desperation, we are forced to have an early lunch of 2 huge dorado steaks. The sudden intake of such vast quantities of protein renders the crew useless for the rest of the afternoon.
All advice seems to be to go east with an unusual westerly wind while it lasts, so instead of the traditional northerly climb past Bermuda and out of the trades we are now running easterly along about 28 north. There is a slight worry though that this could result in us being dumped in the Variables later next week too far south of the Azores.
Under a breezy and starry sky, and a bright full moon, our end of day position (770 miles since departure) is 28d30N 56d14W
Anyway, In the early hours of pitch blackness this morning MB climbs the rocky rolly mast to investigate the lower spreader area knocking noises, and brings with him a can of WD40 to lubricate any moving parts. On reaching 1st crosstrees, after much struggling, discovers the complete nozzle has gone from the can. Loud cursing and descent.
Early AM David catches large Dorado and is exultant, but skipper grumpy again as this means his off-watch sleep has come to a premature end. Big handsome fish is 6kg and is well beyond our needs. David sets off butchering with saw and bolt-croppers. We end up with 6 enormous chunks, almost too big for our fridge.
The morning is squally and rainy with gusts up to 30kts, so, in desperation, we are forced to have an early lunch of 2 huge dorado steaks. The sudden intake of such vast quantities of protein renders the crew useless for the rest of the afternoon.
All advice seems to be to go east with an unusual westerly wind while it lasts, so instead of the traditional northerly climb past Bermuda and out of the trades we are now running easterly along about 28 north. There is a slight worry though that this could result in us being dumped in the Variables later next week too far south of the Azores.
Under a breezy and starry sky, and a bright full moon, our end of day position (770 miles since departure) is 28d30N 56d14W
Monday, 7 May 2012
Sunday 6 May
A beautiful sunrise and the start of a pleasant and busy day. Winds lightish so still motorsailing through a boisterous chop. Good Sunday morning job of clearing a fwd heads blockage. David did his daily mangle of sun, horizon, and plastic sextant, but his 4 hour morning watch had left him no spare neurons to do the sums. A lunch of dorado and philosophy was followed by a lecture on Wagner. David gives talks on Opera, philosophy, and Irish language, in return for skipper's weird culinary efforts, filthy jokes, salty dits, and lessons on Astro-Nav.
Wind freshens finally so by noon we allow Betty/Bertha the Beta (now at about 450 hours) to have a rest. We need help on which of these to call the engine. Superstition requires it to be a respectful name for a loyal friend.
Sunday aft is Grab Bag sort out day. We don't actually put anything extra in the grab-bag, you understand, we just make a list. The list will be useful in the liferaft as it'll give us something to read or eat or set fire to. If we had any matches. And anyway, having a list makes us feel good.
When we transmit on SSB radio the boat goes round in circles. The autohelm computer is jealous of the power the radio takes. They've never liked each other. Sending e-mails and talking to Herb or other boats requires all staff to be up and about. Poor reception and noise means that radio stuff seems to take hours and it would be quicker to take written messages by pedalo instead. Things improved drastically today when skipper found that switching everything electronic off, particularly the radio's own digital modem for the laptop, drastically improved reception, and stations that once sounded like a 1st WW dictaphone broadcast through a bucket of gravel now appeared to be feet away. Daily BBC News available at last, and we should be able to talk to Herb properly tomorrow.
By evening, at the end of Day 5, we've covered over 600 miles from St Barts. At only 5 knots average this is not fast for us, but no disaster either. The wind freshens and swings around astern so that by nightfall we are reefed and rolling along on a quartering sea and wind under full moonlight.
Our current worry, and there always has to be one, is that we have been haunted by strange and loud creaking and knocking noises from the lower mast spreader areas, pretty much since departure. No amount of searching has found the cause, so skipper rests uneasily in a sort of hollow in the pit of stomach way, when off watch. Understandable, given we are in 7000 metres of water and 650 miles from the nearest land.
End of Day 6 position 27d00N, 58d37W.
PS: does anyone know the date of the annual bull-running festival in Terceira Island, Azores?. We think we might be in time to take it in as we pass through.
M & D
Wind freshens finally so by noon we allow Betty/Bertha the Beta (now at about 450 hours) to have a rest. We need help on which of these to call the engine. Superstition requires it to be a respectful name for a loyal friend.
Sunday aft is Grab Bag sort out day. We don't actually put anything extra in the grab-bag, you understand, we just make a list. The list will be useful in the liferaft as it'll give us something to read or eat or set fire to. If we had any matches. And anyway, having a list makes us feel good.
When we transmit on SSB radio the boat goes round in circles. The autohelm computer is jealous of the power the radio takes. They've never liked each other. Sending e-mails and talking to Herb or other boats requires all staff to be up and about. Poor reception and noise means that radio stuff seems to take hours and it would be quicker to take written messages by pedalo instead. Things improved drastically today when skipper found that switching everything electronic off, particularly the radio's own digital modem for the laptop, drastically improved reception, and stations that once sounded like a 1st WW dictaphone broadcast through a bucket of gravel now appeared to be feet away. Daily BBC News available at last, and we should be able to talk to Herb properly tomorrow.
By evening, at the end of Day 5, we've covered over 600 miles from St Barts. At only 5 knots average this is not fast for us, but no disaster either. The wind freshens and swings around astern so that by nightfall we are reefed and rolling along on a quartering sea and wind under full moonlight.
Our current worry, and there always has to be one, is that we have been haunted by strange and loud creaking and knocking noises from the lower mast spreader areas, pretty much since departure. No amount of searching has found the cause, so skipper rests uneasily in a sort of hollow in the pit of stomach way, when off watch. Understandable, given we are in 7000 metres of water and 650 miles from the nearest land.
End of Day 6 position 27d00N, 58d37W.
PS: does anyone know the date of the annual bull-running festival in Terceira Island, Azores?. We think we might be in time to take it in as we pass through.
M & D
Saturday 5th May
Apologies for wrong date on previous blog Saturday was a somewhat frustrating day with mix of engine-ing and sailing as the wind came and went from various directions.
We speak daily by SSB to our 'neighbours' for this trip, Dania, a steel 39 footer with 3 young Danes aboard. They are about 80 miles away to starboard and are also heading for the Azores.We have also been on the radio net of Herb, the weather-man, but it's been difficult getting decent reception to talk to him properly about his recommendations for our route.
David caught a nice 2 kg Dorado for supper, while M minced around petulantly complaining about blood stains on the deck. Fishy put to sleep by the garden sprayer method (aerosol of gin to the gills) and cut into steaks and roasted with red cabbage and garlic. Our Pos at 2100 Sat night (0200 BST Sun AM), the start of our 5th day, was 25D28N and 60D7W. Rig, boat, and bones all now making creaking noises as we plod bumpily NE by motorsail at 4.6 kts. Night sky lit by a bright full moon and the waves lit by brilliant Venus-shine.
We speak daily by SSB to our 'neighbours' for this trip, Dania, a steel 39 footer with 3 young Danes aboard. They are about 80 miles away to starboard and are also heading for the Azores.We have also been on the radio net of Herb, the weather-man, but it's been difficult getting decent reception to talk to him properly about his recommendations for our route.
David caught a nice 2 kg Dorado for supper, while M minced around petulantly complaining about blood stains on the deck. Fishy put to sleep by the garden sprayer method (aerosol of gin to the gills) and cut into steaks and roasted with red cabbage and garlic. Our Pos at 2100 Sat night (0200 BST Sun AM), the start of our 5th day, was 25D28N and 60D7W. Rig, boat, and bones all now making creaking noises as we plod bumpily NE by motorsail at 4.6 kts. Night sky lit by a bright full moon and the waves lit by brilliant Venus-shine.
Friday, 4 May 2012
3rd May - Slow progress
Slow progress on a big (mostly) blue sea Making very slow progress Northward in now light airs. We had a pretty rough first 36 hours I'd have to say. 3 reefs in and up to 30 knots and heavy rain and big seas over the boat. Into long trousers warm tops, and even foul weather gear for the first time for 6 months. Boat inside very wet and David and I knackered. Stomachs now a bit more settled though. A lot of lovely books got very wet and these are now being dried on deck. We have to work our way up north until we start to find some winds in our favour. We are now (Thursday 3rd 2000 GMT) at 22 degrees North; 61 degrees,53 mins West. Not very far up really, only 280 miles NNE of Antigua. The wind is not quite on the nose though, its about 50 degrees off, the result of the trade winds on our right. This will hold for another 450 miles or so, so we can't really go any further east yet. Our aim is to keep going on our northish track of about 015 to 025 to a point about 250m east of Bermuda where there should be favourable winds and then doing a slow sweep to the right towards the most N part of the Azores. After our scary and windy start, we are now down to walking speed this afternoon, so we should be in the Azores in about 400 years.
Mike
(& Dave McAvinchey)
on RAPAREE
Mike
(& Dave McAvinchey)
on RAPAREE
Tues 1st May - Wed 2nd May: Departure for the Northwards flog.
We left the last of our provisioning for 1st May...and what is it? Its Mayday of course!...and everything is shut. Everything apart from the expensive restaurants. So, our great cargo of mangos, papaya, bananas, bread, eggs etc, is not to be. We decide to go anyway rather than spend more time in rolly harbours. The forecast is pretty awful with the Grib files showing geat sworls and rainy bits for days ahead right in the area we're going.
After showers and a cafe lunch we deflate & store the dinghy and then Kedge ourselves off the rolly and exposed jetty with our trusty fortress anchor (amazing feats of seamanship I can tell you). Motor off to an outer harbour buoy for final preps and stowing. Scary stuff. MB has Crowhurstian collywobbles. Sad to be leaving WIs after so many months.
Our 1700-ish departure from St Barths is our last from a caribbean port. Soon we are in very dark and choppy seas and stomachs are not liking it. The ocean out there is big and dark and the tradewind seas are all of 10 ft high. The last few islands, St Martin, and Anguilla slip by during the night. The rains come on. Only 2500 miles of this to the Azores!
After showers and a cafe lunch we deflate & store the dinghy and then Kedge ourselves off the rolly and exposed jetty with our trusty fortress anchor (amazing feats of seamanship I can tell you). Motor off to an outer harbour buoy for final preps and stowing. Scary stuff. MB has Crowhurstian collywobbles. Sad to be leaving WIs after so many months.
Our 1700-ish departure from St Barths is our last from a caribbean port. Soon we are in very dark and choppy seas and stomachs are not liking it. The ocean out there is big and dark and the tradewind seas are all of 10 ft high. The last few islands, St Martin, and Anguilla slip by during the night. The rains come on. Only 2500 miles of this to the Azores!
Tuesday, 1 May 2012
1 May 2012 Leaving St Barts
Panic day dawns. Much sorting and prepping. Dinghy storing and dhobeying. Critical last minute shopping and storing scuppered as its MAY DAY here!!!. Everything closed. We will have to sail with only 1/3 of our fruit and veg and no or very little bread. Ho Hum. We'll be living out of tins sooner than planned. Anyway its raining. And gusty.
This lunchtime is MB's last run ashore in the WIs (well thats the plan anyway)
We will try to get away at 1600 so we should have finished throwing up by nightfall. Seasickness also saves us cooking.
Future blogs will be via SSB radio using our shore supporter Bill Lewis to cut and paste onto the blogsite. Thank you Bill.
Mike and Dave
Nervously scanning the darkening horizon
St Barts
WI
This lunchtime is MB's last run ashore in the WIs (well thats the plan anyway)
We will try to get away at 1600 so we should have finished throwing up by nightfall. Seasickness also saves us cooking.
Future blogs will be via SSB radio using our shore supporter Bill Lewis to cut and paste onto the blogsite. Thank you Bill.
Mike and Dave
Nervously scanning the darkening horizon
St Barts
WI
Sunday 29 – Monday 30 Apr at St Barts
AM Sunday move into harbour to do battle with the 1000000 moorings therein. Spend hours picking up random buouys and getting told to piss off. Eventually come alongside jetty, but swell and gusts make it pretty uncomfortable. Anyway, unhelpful mr harbour man tells us to moor stern to with an anchor out in the harbour. This is pretty difficult to do in 24 knot crosswinds but we eventually manage by using our trusty fortress and kedge warp. Our stern is sweeping in huge scary arcs above and below the parapet of the jetty. Another sleepless night for thre skipper! All this and no power (broken) or wifi (broken) or showers (shut) or water (piss off) or bread (closed) for a mere 30E a night. Nice.
Monday dawns sweetly with fresh croissants and a dose of real coffee. May be ok after all. Still rolly and dodgy but crack on with preps fpr transAt. Productive day despite the drawbacks.
Sat 28 Apr Nevis to St Barthelemy (Barts)
Sat 28 Apr Nevis to St Barthelemy (Barts)
Pissing rain and very gusty with heavy lowering skies. Lovely day for a sail! MB queasy after last night. Neither crew has the sealegs for protracted ops below decks. Great views of St Kitts and in the distance Saba and Statia (thought they were regulars in Asda Gosport?). Joined by Dolphins for lunch, including a mum and baby. David tries singing awful Northern Irish song to them but this makes them veer off sharply to starboard never to return. Got to Barts PM. V Crowded,. Eventually anchor in 3000 fathoms in picturesque bay. Bay suffused by gusts and williwaws (isn’t he the bloke who ran Aer Lingus?). Skipper slept fitfully as we edged backwards towards the catamaran moored behind.
27 Apr Antigua to Nevis
27 Apr Antigua to Nevis
At anchor outside Jolly Harbour. Up early for Dave Mc to outboard over to improve Mike Clear’s morale (bad engine problems) on Irish Oyster 51 ‘Oysterhaven’.
Get away late morning for a bouncy trip downwind, with seas all over the place. Got in to Nevis late and pick up a mooring off a strange dark beach. We have no flags to honour our new hosts and we haven’t cleared immigration. Recommendation is to go ashore to Sunshine Beach Cafe, wherever it is. Dodgy call. Rolling around at our (illegal) mooring. Tired. Get dinghy up and in water and engine in. Cant find dinghy keys. Cant find outboard switch so MB decides to make one. Ass over tit scenario getting into dinghy with big swell. Pitch blackness. Where to go ashore? What if we find a windswept concrete pier with barbed wire or a shelving beach with a surfbreak, glass bottles, tree roots and dog turds? We do find a big pier so we lock up to it. Man in immaculate whites comes to tell us to buzz off. Dave falls into dinghy and cuts foot. Blood everywhere. Motor to beach and carry dinghy beyond shorebreak. Sunshine beach cafe is great so MB has spare ribs (muskrat, moose, or marmoset though...not sure). David Mc has lobster. Chips all round. Good meal.
Some difficulty relocating dinghy...and boat but get away with it and return on board very knackered.
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