Tag Archives: sailing

A social call.

Posted on by
Nothing to do but watch the sun set.

Nothing to do but watch the sun set.

Just one last stopover before Trinidad. Union island. Not my favourite, but a chance to catch up with Ron on his yacht Restless before I get stuck on more mundane matters. No ma, I don’t mean you ma….

Who’s Ron?

In the world of single handed yachtsmen, with 25 years+ of cruising under his belt, Ron is a legend. Well, perhaps an almost legend. Or would be legend, if anyone outside of sailing circles knew about him. Since he doesn’t write a blog, promote a rally or attempt to build a marina like some narcissistic self promoting sailor types, we may never know.

However, we are all waiting on the book!

Speaking of which, I did meet another single hander in Honduras on a gaffer with more than 45 years of cruising who did write a book.

“Little Fish Big Pond” John A. Smith.

Makes my eight years with Eileen seem paltry.

“Gullibles Travels” in Cuba

Posted on by
Sunset in Cuba

Sunset in Cuba

I arrived in Cienfuegos on a Sunday. Taking a stylish 1950s taxi to town, my first stop was for money (how capitalist of me). To an ATM to be precise, so that I could withdraw CU (convertible dollars).

The typical Cuban car tourist photo

The typical Cuban car tourist photo

No luck… The machine kept the money and swallowed my credit card.

Let me digress a moment here to explain that tourist currency isn’t the same as local currency, and the CU purchasing power is a highly sought after commodity, even if it is not a necessity.

So much so that just about every scheme you can imagine (legal and otherwise), has evolved to obtain it. More on that later.

Feeling somewhat responsible for my evenings misadventure, my taxi driver promised to accompany me to the bank first thing in the morning.

Sorted!

Cienfuegos port, Cuba

Cienfuegos port, Cuba

Cashed up I spent the following day playing “tourist”, my taxi driver, “guide”. I offered to buy drinks, he offered to show me highlights of Cienfuegos, I bought lunch, he procured discount Cuban cigars (a must have souvenir).

All well an good.

I wandered all over town,

City centre, Cienfuegos

City centre, Cienfuegos

took some fabulous photos,

met the locals and

Cubana

A typical Cuban girl?

satisfied that I’d had a glimpse of the real Cuba, prepared to leave.

Che Guevara?

Che Guevara?

Four officials waited to board Eileen of Avoca the morning of my departure. Two made their way inside and rummaged around taking particular interest in sundry electronic devices such as mobile phones, memory sticks and cameras. I have a collection, many don’t work, but that did not deter them from suggesting they were gifts.

Fair enough, I had no real use for them.

I was amazed at how quickly and with what practised ease these items vanished into jacket pockets.

When asked if I had bought cigars, I retrieved the boxes my driver had procured and that’s when the excitement started…

Apparently they were counterfeit and must be confiscated!

Who would have thought that you can buy fake Cuban cigars in Cuba?

Is there some factory in China producing them on mass and somehow smuggling them into the country?

Well apparently they were imitation “brand name” cigars. I’d bought the Cuban equivalent of fake Dolce and Gabbana sunglasses or a made in China Prada handbag.

Maybe they need to update their welcome...

Maybe they need to update their welcome…

I was not overly concerned at this point, but unfortunately customs were not satisfied with their newly acquired electronic gifts and counterfeit cigars. For when I returned to Eileen I found that the last of my Cuban cash, a USB memory stick, and a fishing lure (of all things) had also mysteriously disappeared.

That the officials conducting the search were responsible, I have no doubt. They conveniently made me leave Eileen before they did. Presumably so I would not see what transpired. But after living aboard a 23ft boat for so many years I can’t help knowing where and what is in it…, intimately.

A poor show Mr Fidel!

In my travels, officials have occasionally hinted at gifts, but never before have they blatantly stolen items from my boat.

What time is it?

What time is it?

I would still go back to Cuba, but never again with my boat, for the following four reasons:

  1. There is little to offer a single handed yachtsman in the numerous southern cays. What fun is a deserted scrubby island (or hundreds for that matter), when you sail alone?

  2. It is illegal to invite a local aboard your yacht. There goes my social life!

  3. And horror of horrors, you are not allowed to catch the local lobster. This is by far the most difficult prohibition to live with given that their consumption could almost be used as an unofficial unit of time here. “How long will you be staying at this anchorage?”… “Oh, about three or four lobsters…”

  4. You already know the fourth reason.

24 hours in Cozumel Mexico

Posted on by
Why is everyone heading the other way?

Why is everyone heading the other way?

At dawn, on the 10th of March, I found myself motoring through crystal clear waters off southern Cozumel, heading toward the small town of San Miguel.

Curiously, everyone else seemed to be going the other way!

As I watched, vessel after vessel, a seemingly endless procession, sped south.

What was going on?

Apparently nothing… or should I say “business as usual”…

Tourist activities galore!

Tourist activities galore!

On closer inspection all the boats were heavily laden with tourists preparing to partake in various activities including snorkelling, para-sailing, scuba diving or whatever else is the latest in seaside resort entertainment.

Even a submarine?

Even a submarine?

There were so many water craft, it felt like the start of some huge regatta.

Where did all these people come from?

Just two of the four cruise ships visiting Cozumel

Just two of the four cruise ships that were visiting Cozumel

There were literally shiploads of them. Mostly from the US… All I could compare it with was Aruba, but an Aruba on steroids!

The town was similarly awash with visitors, shopping for all those must have tourist accoutrements. One dollar maracas, bracelets with your name woven into the design, 6 T-shirts for 20 US…

OK, not my cup of tea perhaps… and no prejudicial jumping to conclusions. This could be fun… I’ll just sit down, relax, have an ice cold corona and check the weather forecast.

Boats at anchor off San Miguel

Boats at anchor off San Miguel

Strong northerlies descend upon the Yucatan Channel at this time of year and unfortunately the anchorage off San Miguel is very exposed. While a sailor could probably find shelter to the south of the cruise ship terminals many prefer to make a run for Isla Mujeres (approximately 40NM further north).

This was not an option for me, as my next destination was Cuba and I had every intention of getting there with a complimentary current.

If I intended to escape the uncomfortable northerly and take advantage of the closing weather window to Cuba, I had just 24 hours to visit Mexico.

Unlike Honduras where check in and out are a breeze, Cozumel’s procedures can politely be called challenging.

Despite what you may have read elsewhere, here’s the latest on what is required.

  • Visit the port captains office and fill in their arrival form;
  • Catch a cab to the airport (50 pesos) to see (in this order)
  • Immigration (306 pesos),
  • Customs (free),
  • The office of Agriculture (to confiscate your fruit).

Let me diverge at this point and explain that some cruisers try to give the last two a miss by only visiting the immigration office in town. But do you really want to risk being on the wrong side of Mexican law?

A temporary stop at the ferry terminal

A temporary stop at the ferry terminal

Besides, as happened in my case, both Customs and the Office of Agriculture might be rather keen to visit your boat. Kindly giving me a lift back to the port, I brought Eileen alongside the ferry terminal so they could carry out their inspection.

Everyone was rather chuffed about the whole affair.

  • Then it was off to the hospital for my obligatory health stamp (even if nobody checked my health),
  • and finally back to the port captains office to return the forms and finalise check-in.

There is slightly less running around for checking-out.

  • Be sure to provide a crew list, a copy of your registration papers, and the stub of your immigration entry form for the office in town,
  • go to the bank and pay another 471 pesos to the Secretaria de Communicaciones y Trasportes,
  • and collect your Zarpe at the port captains office.

Why it took an hour (upon producing the requested documentation at immigration), to just have a stamp placed in my passport is a mystery I prefer not to dwell upon.

At my age you start worrying about your blood pressure.

Only results matter. I had officially checked in and out, even if it took most of the time I was in Cozumel to do it. What more could I want?

Mickey Mouse arrangements for cruisers

Mickey Mouse arrangements for cruisers

I suspect it might be a bit easier for cruise ship passengers to stopover for 24 hours than it is for cruisers… or there wouldn’t be so many of them…

A slow routine sail to Honduras

Posted on by
Arriving at Guanaja, Honduras

Arriving at Guanaja, Honduras

After ten days in San Andres, it was time to make the next little hop on my clockwise tour of the Caribbean. If five days at sea and 400 nautical miles can be called a “little hop”. It’s all relative (so they say).

At this point in my wanderings, days at sea are just part of the general sailing routine. Not that I don’t enjoy routine, in fact I’m rather fond of it.

There is comfort in the predictability of routine.

Plus it’s easy to describe.

And this ladies and gents, is the route I took...

And this ladies and gents, is the route I took…

To the point that I need not even go into detail but merely state that the latest passage to Honduras was a “routine run”.

Most sailors I know will agree that any extended solo passage that might be loosely termed “routine”, will be made up of several obligatory elements including at least one;

  • Cetacean visitation,
  • Avian visitation,
  • Rare celestial observation,
  • Close encounter with a commercial craft, (of the cargo kind)
  • Fisherman’s tall tale of “the one that did (or didn’t) get away” to recount to landlubbers,
  • Tantrum,
  • Sundry gear failure with ad-hock work-around (later described as ingenious repair), due to general “wear and tear” on the boat. Also the cause of the aforementioned tantrum.

And that’s it!

For better or for worse, I’ve missed out on all the social drama of crewed passages.

A sailors life in images….

Posted on by
The life of a solitary sailor... It's all on film....

The life of a solitary sailor… It’s all on film….

I finally have an answer for those of you who’ve often asked…

What’s it like to leave it all behind and sail off into the sunset in your own boat?

Google has unwittingly provided it… Click on this link to see what I mean…

If the link doesn’t work just type “ifno.info/blog” (including the inverted commas) into google and then press images

10 days at sea

Posted on by

Iles de Salut, French Guiana

It’s one thousand sea miles to the Iles du Salut (which includes the infamous Devil’s Island) in French Guiana! Time to sail the distance I’ve postponed by taking my Brazilian shortcut across the Atlantic.

No big deal. It’s a comfortable sail (with both favourable current and winds), provided I stay in deeper water (100 nautical miles out from the Amazon). At this distance, I’m not likely to hit any stray tree trunks or other Amazon jungle debris, I need only worry about the occasional squall or cargo vessel.

As it turned out, I had good cause to worry about both, especially when a mighty squall hit on the 7th day out from Fortaleza.

Rolling under stay sail alone

Let me share the details with you….

I’d had to weather a couple of uncomfortable days (with gusts to Force 7) on days 2 and 3, but was generally pleased with the progress I’d made since leaving Brazil. Especially when you consider that I’d logged 120 nautical mile daily runs (a new record for Eileen)! This was sufficient motivation to tolerate any discomfort and while the distances travelled were considerable (for a small boat under stay-sail alone), in future, I’ll think twice before running before the wind without my mainsail. Why? Because incessant rolling is liable to turn the stomach of even the hardiest of sailors, and I’m hardly hardy!

What followed were 3 days of gentle breeze so I opted to burn some fossil fuel and maintain my 100 nautical mile average to day 5. Eileen can easily manage 100NM in a 24hr period when motor sailing. Even if the winds are under 10kts. And since she consumes just over half a liter of diesel an hour (with her new 10HP Beta engine), I rarely feel compelled to wallow about for days on end in the tropical heat for the sake of conserving fuel.

That night more gale force winds arrived. Well, I assume they were gale force, but I did little to verify this empirically. Too busy concentrating on feeling sorry for myself (a touch of sea sickness coupled with a migraine headache can have that effect). Plus, I’m not to fond of braving downpours to measure wind speed with my portable ammeter, (though I did note a consistent 8 knots on my GPS).

Fancy that! No sails and Eileen of Avoca is making way at top speed with comfort and ease. No more rolling either! I’d have confidently gone to bed if a Chinese freighter hadn’t chosen this particular moment to play chicken with me.

Guess I’ll give them a call over the VHF radio…

“Motor vessel Sunny X (X to thwart potential defamatory action)…. you are within 3 nautical miles of my current position and closing. Are you currently tracking me by radar?”

I know they aren’t because my radar detector is uncharacteristically silent….

“Yesh, I shee you…. your SSI number ish…..”

“No, that’s not me. I don’t have a transponder so you will not see me with your A.I.S. The ship you are referring to is 6 miles to port. I am a small sailing vessel currently 2 miles ahead of you…”

At last my radar detector starts to sound. At least they are now really trying to look for me…

“I don’t shee you…Two miles? You shtay away from my ship….shtay clear….. you hear?”

“I’m trying… please maintain your course as I’ll adjust mine so that we pass port to port.”

“rOK I adjust my course 10 degrees to port….”

“Not that way!!!! You’ll run me down!!!”

At this point I started Eileen’s engine and leapt (or rather crept) to the tiller. A close call. In appalling visibility (due to the worsening downpour), the cargo vessel passed within three cables! Much too close!

Lesson learnt…. Dodge before talking….

Evidently English isn’t as widely or well spoken on commercial vessels as I’d thought, so contacting a vessel via VHF might at best turn out to be counterproductive as it was in this case… or at worst…. well…. I’d rather not think about that….

But why didn’t they seem me on radar?

That mystery was only solved upon arrival in French Guiana. My over sized reflector had apparently “Gone with the Wind”…

A friend from the Amazon

Fortunately, the remainder of the voyage was pleasant enough. I picked up a hitchhiker…

I-pod? Nah… I listen to d-pod….

Listened to my d-pod all day (that would be a dolphin pod) as they whistled, clicked and whirled about playfully….

Worms with your dorado?

Caught my biggest catch of the day yet…. But didn’t get to eat any as it was full of parasitic worms… Yuck!

To finally find tropical paradise….

Catching up with old friends!

With two of my South African buddies (from the old Fortaleza gang) minding a spot for me at an idyllic anchorage (how had they known I was coming?). 😉

Tourists take the cat from Kourou

Time to join the day tourists and explore… but only after I make myself a little more presentable… After all, there are certain standards to uphold, and the “wild man from Borneo” look hasn’t been too well received of late…

The wild man from Borneo?

Yes… the beard and long haired hippie look will have to go. I’m in France now… how odd… never really realized that France extended to South America…

So it’s back to European prices, the Euro, and speaking French… I’m not complaining…

It’s also back to good wine, more than one sort of cheese and bread that doesn’t disintegrate when you touch it…

My taste buds are already celebrating in anticipation!

Vive la France!

Camaret sur Mer

Posted on by

Camaret sur Mer

My night approach to Camaret in light mist and flat seas was also uneventful. With no moon, it was too dark to see the events!

But never fear… the hand-held chart plotter is here…

Ah, the wonders of chart plotters. Just follow the dotted transit line and you arrive safely in port despite not being able to see a thing.

Somehow I can’t help but think of it as cheating, but chart plotters really do make for ultra safe sailing. Now if I can add an AIS receiver to my list of electronic goodies I might be able to do nothing but sleep while passage making. 🙂

And why stop there? Hook up enough of that modern electronic gadgetry (as seen on many larger yachts) and I can even stay at home watching TV (not that I have either one or the other at the moment), while Eileen safely sails herself to wherever I fancy…

But then I’d have to mow the lawn again on weekends….On second thought, perhaps I’ll draw the line at just installing an AIS receiver and keep playing sailor. 🙂

The crew of Erimar

Eileen of Avoca featured in Camaret for one night only!

I came, I refueled, I loaned my harness to the crew of Erimar (who were unsuccessfully playing piniata with a boat hook and wayward halyard), I checked the weather, I bought a few bottles of French wine, I drank a bon voyage glass of Zoco with the aforementioned crew of Erimar…. I left…

Barbate to Rota in turbulent seas.

Posted on by

Weather west of the straits

Just 5 miles west of Barbate I found myself sailing around the many shoals off Cape Trafalgar. Yes, this is the site of the famous, or infamous, (presumably depending on your nationality), 1805 naval battle between Villeneuve and Nelson.

I’d checked my almanac and Imray pilot to time the departure for a complementary tidal stream, but after an hour of speeding west at 7.5kts I realized my northerly stream was not altogether northerly! If only the disclaimer printed beneath the tidal stream extract was given more prominence, I might not have taken it as gospel. Lesson learnt.

The wind was now gusting to twice that predicted in the “windguru.com” and “windfinder.com” web site forecasts and the direction was anything but favourable. I was obviously in for another rough trip. A brief glance at the brevity of my ships log (one entry 6hrs after departure) is testament to this.

So why was I stubbornly heading North toward the bay of Cadiz instead of just heading out to sea on a direct route to Portugal?

For several reasons:

  • Firstly, I found it was difficult to trust the weather forecasts for one day, let alone the two to three that I’d need for a longer leg;
  • I also wanted to take advantage of the promise of smoother seas further north (clearly shown in my weather forecasts an example of which is posted above).
  • A degree of wanting to play tourist also had to be taken into consideration.

Ugly but functional

By sunset I was bouncing my way into the bay of Cadiz. No torn mainsail this time, but the bronze rail at the end of my boom (tensioning the mainsail), was dramatically ripped from its fastenings. For now, I have decided to do without it, and have come up with this (see photo) elegant solution. OK, I’ll admit it isn’t pretty, but it does work!

Of Rota, I saw nothing but the refueling pontoon by night. Fascinating. So much for the argument of heading north to play tourist. 🙂

I sailed to Barbate

Posted on by

Church in main square, Barbate

My Atlantic Spain and Portugal pilot refers to Barbate as a practical stopover in a somewhat soulless town. The marina certainly isn’t packed with nightclubs and restaurants. It has two of the later and none of the former. More distressing, for any slothful sailor like myself, is the 2km hike into town to buy provisions. Despite this, I wouldn’t go as far as calling Barbate soulless. I’d settle for a tad dull.

I wandered aimlessly about the town for days, took the obligatory snapshot of the white sandy beach, church and town hall (all very nice if you frame the photo well), and loitered suspiciously for hours at venues offering Internet access (both restaurants at the marina have WiFi, and in town there are two “cyber-cafes”. The coin operated one near the beach is probably your best bet).

Despite enthusiastically delving into the myriad of touristic offerings (attempt at dry humor here), I couldn’t quite get accustomed to Barbate and eagerly awaited an opportunity to depart.

The regular jogger set, dog and power walkers, passed by frequently as they made their daily pilgrimages between downtown and the marina. I lived in fear that they’d move beyond our now customary brief nod of recognition, and stop to converse.

For someone as poorly versed in Spanish as myself, (my conversational repertoire is currently limited to boat talk and the weather), the mere thought of engaging in serious small talk is traumatic! Mind you, I did plan to take it in small steps… starting perhaps with a few words to the dogs and slowly working up from that. 😉

Barbate beach in March

I needn’t have worried. No one ventured to go beyond the briefest “Ola”. Perhaps I’d already outstayed my welcome. This paranoiac notion grew as staff at El Espigon, (where I visited daily for a morning espresso and tostada), suddenly appeared reluctant to provide me with Wi-Fi access (it’s mysteriously switched off when customers linger for more than the briefest of sessions).

Even the restaurant at the other end of the marina has started using the “silently switch it off” strategy to ration Internet usage. It’s a Barbate conspiracy. True, I’m no big spender, (I can only drink so much coffee), but I’m also very unlikely to seriously impact their bandwidth quotas by writing my blog.

To add insult to injury, they’ve only given me one packet of jam with my toast today! Simply outrageous! It’s clearly time for me to move on, but where is that weather window when you need it?

Through the straits… NOT

Posted on by

Sailing in rough seas

I took care that evening to check up on the weather forecast using my personal SMS weather service and double checked this against NAVTEXT transmissions (via my laptop and HF radio receiver).

I find I can only trust the forecasts on Internet web sites for two days, and sure enough, the situation had changed considerably from my three day old predictions. The heavy rain in what should have been fine weather was what tipped me off ;-), though F5 to 6 instead of 3 should also have given me a substantial indicator.

Near gales despite the weather predictions? Not as unusual as one might expect.

Another forecast check, first thing in the morning, assured me that the conditions would rapidly improve and smooth seas with F3 winds in just the right direction would prevail. I should have paid more attention to what my eyes were telling me and not just what was in the idyllic forecast. It took a full 24 hours before conditions approached what was forecast, and there I was merrily making my way to Tarifa in what turned out to be increasingly turbulent seas.

Here is a copy of the full transmission:

ZCZC GE41
21 0710 UTC MAR 10
WEATHER BULLETIN

NR/ESTF8707/10
ROUTINE

SPANISH METEOROLOGICAL AGENCY
WEATHER AND SEA BULLETIN FOR HIGH SEAS ON 21MAR10
1.- NO GALE WARNINGS FOR OUR ZONES
2.-GENERAL SYNOPSIS AT 00 UTC AND EVOLUTION.
LOW OF 982 SOUTH OF ICELAND ALMOST STATIONARY LITTLE CHANGES.LOW OF 1014 AT 35N 45W MOVING EASTWARDS AS FAR AS  SW OF AZORES.NO CHANGES.HIGH OF 1026 CENTERED BETWEEN AZORES AND MADEIRA, MOVING NORTHEASTWARDS AND DECLINING.HIGH OF 1028 CENTERED IN N OF LIBIA MOVING SLOWLY EASTWARDS AND DECLINING , SPREADING AS FAR AS WESTERN MEDITERRANEAN, AT FIRST WITH 1022 BUT 1018 AT THE END.
3.-FORECAST VALID UNTIL 21MAR10 AT 2400 UTC.
SAO VICENTE:IN NW , N 4 TO 5 ELSEWHERE VARIABLE 2 TO 3 INCREASING TO NNW 4 LOCALLT N 5 BY AFTERNOON.SMOOTH INCREASING TO SLIGHT .SHOWERS.
CADIZ:VARIABLE 2 TO 3 BUT IN EASTERN SE 3 TO 5 AT FIRST, DECREASING TO VARIABLE 2 TO 3.SLIGHT TO MODERATE IN EASTERN AT FIRST DECREASING TO SMOOTH IN ALL THE AREA.SHOWERS AT FIRST.
ESTRECHO:E 3 TO 5 DECREASING TO E 3.SLIGHT DECREASING TO SMOOTH.SHOWERS AT FIRST.
CASABLANCA:N AND NW 4 TO 5 BECOMING NE, WITH VARIABLE 2 TO 4 IN NE UNTIL NOON.SMOOTH TO SLIGHT.SOME SHOWERS.
AGADIR:N AND NW 4 TO 5 BECOMING NE INCREASING TO N 5.SMOOTH TO SLIGHT INCREASING TO MODERATE.
ALBORAN:NW 3 TO .&&)0/+**.8*(*SHOWERS.
PALOS: VARIABLE 2 TO 4 BECOMING WBY AFTERNOON  AND INCREASING TO W AND SW 4 TO 5 AT THE END.SMOOTH LOCALLY SLIGHT.MODERATE IN SHOWERS.
ARGELIA:VARIABLE 2 TO 4 BECOMING  ELY BY AFTERNOON AND SLY AT THE END.SMOOTH LOCALLY MODERATE.

Things went slightly amiss just past Punta Carnero. There is a cardinal marker approximately two miles offshore from the aforesaid headland, and rounding this, under stay-sail and double reefed, my mainsail gave way, unexpectedly tearing itself to shreds.

There is a hole in my mainsail...

Well not quite shreds… two big shreds is perhaps a more accurate description, but not to belabor the point, I can assure you that the sail (in two large shreds or several) was as effectively out of commission. Surprisingly, I wasn’t that bothered by the loss of the sail, (I’d normally be in tears…), after all, it was almost ten years old, and besides, I had a spare… but I really would have appreciated a more opportune time for its demise.

Auxiliary on, new trysail hoisted (it sounds so easy when I write it…), I bounced my way back to Gibraltar.

Below decks, everything that could, had dislodged itself, littering the cabin sole. Outside was no better, as Eileen of Avoca was ‘slipping it green’ and I in turn was slipping all over the place and turning blue from the cold… make that blue-green as I was also feeling decidedly queasy.

Still, matters could have been far worse, I reasoned that all the mess would be sorted out in Gibraltar and since I didn’t have far to go (10 miles at most), I’d soon be ashore finding someone to mend the sail and sourcing parts to repair the now defunct reefing system… Four unpleasant and thoroughly sopping hours later I found that this was an erroneous assumption.

Queensway Quay Marina sent me away, stating they had no room for boats of my dimensions (all taken by permanent residents) and Marina Bay wouldn’t or couldn’t acknowledge my frequent calls over VHF.

So be it… Back to the anchorage at La Linea, where I set about lacing my reserve mainsail and putting matters on board in some semblance of order.

I’ll just give it all another go tomorrow…