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
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