Neill – Page 27

Port Elizabeth – Bequia

Early yesterday morning we sailed in to the bay at Port Elizabeth on the island of Bequia and in to the real Caribbean. The bay is surrounded by wooded hills spotted with wooden houses. At anchor there are many boats and locals float past selling water, ice, diesel, laundry services and taxi rides.

As we entered the bay a passing diving boat shouted across the water “welcome!” We passed what looked like an outing of the Royal Yacht Squadron all flying their white ensigns. Maybe that explains all the chaps called Julian and Rupert in town.

We anchored in see through water and dived on the anchor to check it was firmly in the sand. With the dinghy we rowed the short distance to the beach and then walked along to the customs house arriving just after they opened for the afternoon. Customs gave us a yachting permit for a month (which we can extend) and at the next counter immigration gave us six month visas. It all took about fifteen minutes and they let us pay in Euros.

Next stop was a mobile phone shop where we bought two SIM cards. We now have St. Vincent and Grenadines telephone numbers, 8GB of data, an hour of free Youtube a day and a flat for local calls. We can spend all day ringing each other or make some local friends quickly.

The locals all seemed friendly. Mostly they were sat in the shade selling stuff. We bought a local courtesy flag which is flying on our starboard spreader and some mangos & oranges. On the way back along the beach we stopped off under a huge tree for ice creams and beers while watching the locals repairing a boats engine while stood chest deep in the sea.

In the evening the beach bar turned the music up and we fell asleep rocking gently in paradise.

Caribbean sailing

It is now just over a week since we arrived in the Caribbean. As we have already written, we spent the first days in the less than lovely anchorage and shipyard in Le Marin on Martinique. Beautiful it wasn’t but we have a working engine.

The last few days we have been anchored between St. Annes and Le Marin in a secluded bay behind a reef and surrounded by Mangroves. Here you can jump in the sea for a swim before breakfast, enjoy the peace and quiet all day and then drink a Pinacolada or Baileys as the sun sets behind the palms. This is sailing as others dream of it.

This morning we weighed anchor and left Martinique heading south. As soon as we were through the reef, we set the full genoa and then the full mainsail. The trade winds are still blowing constantly from the east so we are on the port tack with the boat healed over at about 15°. We are averaging over five knots in the correct direction and planning on passing downwind of St. Lucia and then continuing through the night to the Grenadines.

The sun is shining, Heidi is sunbathing life is good.

Marking the dinghy

Our insurance policy states that our dinghy needs to have an “identifiable mark”. When we bought the boat, the dinghy already had “Artemis” written on it in three places so Heidi brushed up the lettering a bit and we sent a photo to the insurance.

Here in the Caribbean everyone says “always lock your dinghy up!” and “don’t write the boats name on the dinghy!” The logic being that when your dinghy is on the beach, the bad guys know your boat is empty. We explained this to the insurers who agreed and said they would never mark the dinghy with the boats name (?)

Even the police lock up their boats in Martinique

Half a day with Acetone and Heidi’s work had been destroyed. Now we had a naked dinghy and needed an “identifiable mark” that had nothing to do with the boat but clearly said “It’s ours!” Sounded a bit contradictory.

Our solution is a generic email address that is now “permanently” marked on the dinghy and which passes any mails received on to both our email accounts. In addition, any one who writes to us on this address gets an autoreply with a thank you and our mobile phone numbers. The address has nothing to do with the boat or us so the potential thieves can spend an enjoyable evening looking for a fictive boat called “Soseies”. Hopefully if the dinghy is stolen and discarded some one will contact us. If not, at least we have complied with the insurance policy.

Amazing what good solutions we can work out when we have so much time to think about the problem. And thank you Gremmel lending us the generic address.

A new motor for Artemis

Those of you who follow our adventures may have noticed that, even though we own a sailing boat, our engine is a recurring theme. (repairs, a working engine, a hole in the water) We really try hard not to use the engine and are quite successful in keeping down the engine hours but when you need the engine you need it now. We have bad memories of drifting off Mallaig or Rhum with a none functioning engine and don’t want to try that again off a coral reef.

Since Gran Canaria the engine has been overheating after exhaust gases push the coolant out. Two guys in Tenerife looked at it but didn’t really have much idea so disconnected the fresh water heater.

In Martinique we went straight to Mecanique Plaisance because every one says they are “the people”. The technician came out to us at anchor and ran a few tests before declaring the heat exchanger (salt water to fresh water) dead. It was leaking internally so exhaust gases were pressurizing the fresh water coolant.

The engine is a three cylinder Yanmar (3HM35F) and as old as the boat (1992) which means spares are about as plentiful as rocking horse droppings, something else will be going wrong soon and it leaks a bit of everything all the time. We accepted the technicians opinion that a new engine made more sense.

They had a suitable engine with gearbox (3YM30AE) in the shop and Christoph (the technician) had time on Thursday and Friday so we agreed to be on the dock at 08:30 on Thursday for him to start.

Obviously every one was working on shipyard time so “08:30” was late morning, “an hour” was half a day and “finished on Friday” meant Saturday but whatever. The work looks professional and the motor works. And we don’t actually have any appointments the next few years.

The new motor is also a Yanmar. It is tiny compared to the old one, feels a bit more powerful and looks much much less rusty. It also has a three year manufacturers warranty and spare parts available worldwide. Sounds like fun.

Atlantic crossing – the numbers

We calculated that if we followed the great circle route from Mindelo (on Cape Verde) to Le Marin ( on Martinique), it would be a distance of 2091 nautical miles. The wind wasn’t always going our way so we actually travelled 2162 nautical miles which was 3.4% extra.

Artemis has two foresails. A bigger Genoa right over the bow and a smaller Jib set further back. Normally we use one or the other depending on wind strength. But we also have two poles on the mast which we can set out horizontally and hold the Genoa out on one side and the Jib on the other. This is what we mean by “two foresails poled out”. Perfect for sailing straight downwind.

We took almost exactly 18 days so 432 hours which means our average speed was exactly 5 knots.

We did over half the journey (54%) with the two foresails poled out running directly downwind. The Parasailor and the Genoa both contributed 16% of the distance. The combination of Genoa and main was in use 14% of the distance and we used the motor for 0.2%!

The sails carried us on our way and the solar panels, wind generator and towed generator kept the electrics working so the motor only ran to lift and stow the anchor and enter the anchorage. It ran for two hours so the whole journey cost €4.

Stinky generators

We have written so much about electricity, solar panels, wind turbines and towed generators that you are probably bored with reading about it. But our neighbour here in Le Marin has a petrol generator on the deck of his boat and so each day, when he switches it on to charge his batteries we are SO GLAD that we don’t need one.

His decks are covered in fuel canisters and containers of oil, the thing is loud and he seems to spend half of each morning running and servicing it. We are sure he has a freezer, microwave, wide screen TV and air conditioning running. No matter what he is feeding electricity in to, it can’t be worth the noise, smell and trouble of having a stinky generator on board.

Le Marin – Martinique

After eighteen days at sea, it was during the night that Heidi spotted the lights of Martinique. A few hours later we rounded the southern tip of the island and then set course for Le Marin and arrived shortly before sunrise.

I doubt we have ever seen so many boats at anchor. The bay is filled with vessels in all directions. Here there is everything from super-yacht to barely floating hulks. We found a space and, after over 2000 miles and one Atlantic crossing, dropped our anchor.

After tidying up and pumping up the dinghy we motored across to the marina and “cleared in” online using a computer terminal in the office. This is civilized! No police, no customs and no immigration. Martinique is part of France and therefore part of the EU. The currency is Euro, our European SIM card (and data flat rate) works and the language is French. All the comforts of home but T-shirt weather.

The second day we went shopping. The local supermarket has a car park out front and a dinghy pontoon at the back so you fill up your trolley and then cross load it in to the dinghy. Totally organised, totally stress free and fun. Once we got back with our two hundred Euros worth of shopping we created a spreadsheet that shows what we have stowed where. We are really getting organised.

On Saturday we took the dinghy across to the garage on the marina hammerhead. They sell petrol for the outboard, gas for the cooker and water at 2 cents a liter. You can tell that yachts are big business here and life is made easy for us cruisers.

Later we went across to the beach and watched a local sailing race with boats where half the crew sit out on outrigger poles to keep the sail vertical and three men paddle with the steering oar. We also drank the local Ti-Punch during a torrential downpour and listened to the drums playing on the beach. After Cape Verde the rain is taking some getting used to.

Le Marin isn’t a pretty town but a great place to arrive, do the admin stuff and prepare for more adventure.

Atlantic Crossing – two weeks at sea

This morning I saw that Heidi had written the twentieth of January in the log. We left Mindelo on the sixth so today must be a Sunday and we must have been at sea for two weeks. Time, days and dates are not so important as you sail two thousand miles at an average speed of five knots an hour.

It is now nine days since we saw any other vessel. Since then we have seen nothing but flying fish and the occasional bird. Yesterday we heard some french on the radio but other than that no sign of people anywhere. We are now used to the vast emptiness around us and will probably be surprised if we actually see another sail any where near us.

We are approaching the full moon so, as long as there are no clouds, the night is no longer dark. The moon makes for beautiful seascapes but limits the stargazing. At least we have found the southern cross ready for when Polaris (the northern star) finally disappears below the horizon.

Two days ago we experimented with a lasagna made with corned beef, spreadable cheese and pasteurised cream. It was delicious. Yesterday we baked fresh bread, half with walnuts and half with bacon. We tested it warm and fresh out of the oven. No living on tinned soup for us.

Over a week ago we poled out the two foresails, one on each side and since then we have just lightly adjusted the lines each day to avoid chaffing. Each time the wind dropped we threatened to set the Parasailor but just the threat was enough to increase the wind. This morning we finally set it. Taking down the poles, tidying up, relaying lines and setting the sail was an hours work but it was worth it; we are now sailing 25 degrees off course but we are moving towards the Caribbean.

Our solar panels keep our electronics working, our lights on and the batteries topped up. With the water generator in the water we can also keep the fridge cool. The solar shower is warming up on the deck so that we can have a warm hair and body wash this evening. Apart from the gas cooker we are totally “regenerative” with everything powered by wind or sun.

We have no idea how much longer we need but that is irrelevant. We are in holiday mode.

Eight o’clock. An update. About an hour ago we were sat in the cockpit enjoying the sun when Heidi sighted a ship crossing our path just a few miles ahead. I thought she was joking but it was a real freighter heading to Brazil. We called him up per radio and he gave us the weather forecast for the next few days. There really are other people out there.

Nine o’clock. An update. Not just people out there but also dolphins. Just before sunset a group of visited us, did a few jumps, swam under the bow and then disappeared on their way.

A thousand miles from anywhere.

Today is our ninth day at sea and we are in the middle of the Atlantic. The Cape Verde Islands off Africa are almost a thousand miles behind us and French Guiana in South America is nearly as far to the south west. The Caribbean is still well over a thousand miles ahead.

Three days ago we sighted a sailing boat but we saw nothing of the crew and they didn’t answer our radio call. That is the only vessel we have seen in the last week. No boats and no planes. We are the only two people in our part of the world.

Most days we see flying fish and one or two birds fly past but otherwise the ocean is empty. One day Heidi spotted a large field of seaweed floating past. Finally something new and interesting.

The moon follows the sun across the sky and new, unknown stars are appearing to the south. We both spend much of the night watches in the cockpit enjoying the moonlight, stars and shooting stars.

No mobile phone connection, no television, no Internet, no radio and no popping out for half an hour. No appointments. No stress.

Atlantic Crossing – Day 3

We had already been at sea a few days and had just passed our first “waypoint” at 030°W. I was sound asleep at three thirty in the morning when Heidi woke me with a coffee to take over the watch. We were flying the parasailor so she had been busy ensuring we stayed on course despite the variable wind and she was sleeping deeply within minutes of lieing down.

I took my coffee outside to enjoy the stars. We have a new moon so most of the night we can enjoy the light of the stars with no other light sources. I am still enjoying the novelty of the North Star being so low and Orion directly above my head.

It has now been two days since we have seen any other vessels and tonight we were, once again, alone on the ocean. No navigation lights, no radio chatter and no radar pings. The wind stayed variable but the tendency was towards stronger gusts so I had a careful eye on the Parasailor. At dawn I decided to change to the genoa so woke Heidi and fifteen minutes later we were on our way again with less sail. Just as well as shortly after we were seeing 16 knots of wind.

On the deck we found an unlucky flying fish who had failed to clear our hull. I realised why I had been hearing thuds during the night as others had hit the side of the boat. That must really hurt.

We drank coffee and decided to hoist the main sail to add a little more speed. Later the wind turned behind us so we dropped the main sail. Another while later and the wind dropped so we rehoisted the parasailor. And that was the morning almost gone.

At eleven we totalled up the miles for the last 72 hours and were happy to see that we were still averaging almost five knots. We are following a great circle route and have “waypoints” every few hundred miles where the planned bearing changes. It was nice to have passed waypoint “Atlantic 1” in the night.

In the afternoon we heard a small creak and discovered that the roller holding the parasailor sheet was not attached properly. Repairing that required rerouting the guy line through a temporary roller to take the load, changing the roller mounting, substituting the starboard roller for the port roller and then moving the load back on to the sheet. And that was the afternoon gone.

I collapsed for a nap while Heidi made dough which we later converted in to home made pizza for dinner (with a cup of wine – much more stable than glasses) and onion bread for breakfast tomorrow.

And now it is dark again. I am sat outside on watch and Heidi is tanking up on sleep for the coming night.