Log of the Island Spirit (MMSI 235113215)– Atlantic Crossing

Crew: Mike Rothery (Skipper); Nigel Sampson (Mate)

Nigel fixing the Veggie Net

Floating Bar, Mindelo

A Great Place to Meet & Greet

All Ready to Go!

Thursday 1^st December 2016

2100 - 16 38.5N 25 22.7W Co 260 Sp 5

The last two days taken up trying to source provisions for the big passage; very frustrating, especially on the bread front. Should have stored up for the full month-long passage in Canaries. Apart from that, Cabo Verde was worth the stopover, as you will see from Nigel’s following contribution.

The floating bar is a magic place, buzzing from breakfast till late. We spent many a pleasant hour there socialising (and trying to connect to WIFI, which was slow everywhere). Here’s some of the memorable characters we made friends with:

Phil, the American alcoholic; okay when half sober, but not much cop after 11am.

Heinz and Karin, an Austrian couple on a Lagoon 42 anchored out in the bay (more on them later). Then there’s Philip who’s German but sent to England for his education by parents fearful of his involvement with the home drugs scene. Nice guy, once you get past the public school/Oxbridge affectations. This tall, muscular, twenty-something Adonis was crewing for a German couple, but jumped ship at the last moment due to “unspecified difficulties”. Apparently, the parting was amicable enough.

We also met up with Jaques & Odelle, a gregarious French couple with their bright-yellow plywood RM whom we’d first encountered in La Palma.

Finally, Shayla, a waitress at the floating bar who took us shopping – good to have someone along who knows where stuff can be found.

Despite all the difficulties of getting our engine repaired (faulty Bendix on the starter motor) and that pesky autopilot (drive belt misaligned on the clutch), and the hassle of re-provisioning in a subsistence backwater, we had a great time in Mindelo. Though for a heart-stopping moment on the first night, I thought our adventure had come to a horrible early end when Nigel, after one too many local rum cocktails, fell headfirst down the companionway. Luckily the saloon sole-boards broke his fall, and probably due to his ultra-relaxed condition, he survived with only a bruised shoulder.

On Monday (28^th Nov), leaving me in the Floating Bar to write up the previous Blog, Nigel went on a trip with friends Heinz and Karin to the neighbouring island of Santo Antao. Here’s his account of that trip, and some of his pictures.

We caught the 0800 ferry (€8 each) to Porto Novo, where we spent the first 20 minutes negotiating for a taxi/minibus. Ended up paying €47 to share a ride with a few others. Drove all along the coast road round the north of the island to Ponta do Sol, a sleepy little backwater with an airstrip. Most of the roads are basalt-cobble, not the quietest of road surfaces. Driver didn’t mind stopping a few times for photos, though from the glum faces of our fellow-passengers, I suspect our frequent calls to halt caused them some irritation. The coastline is scattered with small fishing villages, while inland on the western side, the lush volcanic slopes of this greenest of all the islands provide most of Cabo Verde’s fruit and vegetables.

Some of the views were spectacular; steep caldera and jagged knife-edge ridges. Sometimes the vertical drop was on both sides of the narrow road! (No, Mike, it’s not called a bridge, it’s a ridge).

Karin & Heinz

I was still hard at work blogging when they finally returned at around 1830, so I declined the invitation to join H&K on their boat for dinner, urging Nigel to go ahead and finish his day with this charming couple, something I came to regret later when he couldn’t stop going on about how nice everything was, the great food, the spacious boat with all the mod cons (multiple fridges, generator, water maker, washing machine, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. Yawn).

Yesterday we had a young lady come by asking if we knew anyone needing transat crew. Said the could cook, hand and steer, and had been the chief provisioner on the tall=ship that bought her here. Lexie was late-twenties and had the look of good sailorly qualities about her. She talked about her skills at breadmaking and veggie cooking, as well as her abilities to plan provisioning. In fact, as I soon discovered, she talked a lot. When she finally left us alone, I suggested to Nigel she might be a useful addition to the crew. “Your call, Skipper.” was all he said. That evening we met up with Lexie in the bar and I questioned her further, telling her of the hardships she would have to endure on a small, elderly sloop, sleeping in the saloon with little space for her kit (and banjo!!), and with two of those nasty carnivores to feed each day – in fact, two grumpy old geezers who smoked and farted and snored (at least, Nigel does). She wasn’t at all put off, and so I invited her to move her kit onboard and stay overnight. In the morning, we would both decide if it was a go or nogo.

In the end, Lexie didn’t work out, and after I asked her to leave the boat, we both knew we’d made the right decision. Nice girl, but far too much to say, very critical of our preparedness for the crossing, ambivalent in her commitment to the passage, and quite manipulative in her dealings with us. So off she went, complete with giant kitbag and banjo, to another boat who hopefully found her a place.

We eventually got away just before two this afternoon, after waiting for our turn on the fuelling jetty, and very soon we were clipping along nicely on 15 knots of following wind, genoa on the pole and main goose-winged to starboard. Our “beautiful bunch of bright bananas” dangling from the stern gantry, and our supply of fresh fruit and veg hanging in a net under the bimini like an elephant’s testicles.

Last of Cabo Verde

Nigel Writes up his Diary

A Bath at Sea

Fishing for Supper

Madame du Sac

Knackered!

Hazardous Duty

The Perfect Lid!

And Off We Go1

Goose-winged & Poled Out

Fitting a New Autopilot

Hove To with Genny Poled

I’m now on watch until midnight, on a calm sea, following wind and swell, and the autopilot managing nicely with minimum rudder effort, under the glorious tropical star-canopy. Looks like we picked the perfect day to depart, and it seems we weren’t the only ones; for the lights of no less than ten other vessels dot the darkness around us. We seem to be gaining on a fourship-flotilla ahead, which may give us a problem if we get to overtake them. Nigel’s gone to bed, commenting: “This is quieter and calmer than the pontoon!” Very true; the surge in that marina was formidable, and relentless.

My intention is to remain (if possible) on this point of sail for the entire 15-17-day passage, keeping the wind almost dead astern, and thus allowing the gradually-veering easterlies to waft us southwest, then sweep us along a southerly Great Circle route on the 14^th parallel.

Friday 2^nd December

1542 – 16 11.0N 26 52.0W Co 250 Sp 5

Did I say the new autopilot was working well? Well hush my mouth and fill it with dog shit!

This morning she (we’ve dubbed her “Georgina”) she reverted to her all-too-often defunct status, grunting as she tried unsuccessfully to turn the wheel. Same trouble as before. Nigel hand-steered all morning, both of us daunted at the prospect of doing so for the next 17 days and dreading the prospect of creeping fatigue as the continuous vigilance and effort takes its toll. Finally, we faced the inevitable conclusion.

And what I haven’t told you, Dear Reader, is that I bought a second-hand spare autopilot unit in Mindelo, for just this eventuality, but in truth, not really believing it would be needed. Such an attitude of denial stems from the facts of undertaking such a task whilst underway in heavy seas; not least of these being the removal of the steering wheel. So, we bit the bullet, fitted the emergency tiller, hove to, removed the wheel, and got work. Wonder of wonders, it took less than an hour to complete the job, Nigel proving his technical skills with great aplomb, and soon we were underway once more feeling much relieved to have Georgina back in business.

Saddened by a trio of forlorn visitors this afternoon. The young egrets appeared from the south flying low over the great Atlantic swell, and began circling the boat, looking decidedly weary and barely able to stay airborne. They looked as if they wanted to land on the boat, but clearly put off by the sails and whirling wind genny. One even attempted a water-landing, lowering its long legs towards the breaking wavetops, but wisely thought better of it. They continued their hopeless circling for another ten minutes, me pointing the way to Africa and refuge, they tragically unable to comprehend, until finally struggling on northward to an undoubtedly watery end in a baffling and alien world. My spirits lifted half an hour later when a pod of large bottlenose dolphins arrived, surfing in grand formation down the precipitous swell. All this high drama on a warm, balmy afternoon with just 2100 miles to go.

Saturday 3^rd December 2016

1249 – 15 15.3N 28 46.5W Co 280 Sp 6

I should point out, Dear Reader, that all courses reported are in degrees magnetic. Right here, the variation is close to 18 degrees west, so our true course right now is nearer 260.

The wind has backed a little too much, and to keep my original plan would take us too far south – don’t fancy Brazil. So, this morning we took the genoa off the pole and continued a broad reach westward

2100 – 15 07.6N 26 33.8W – Hove to, making 1.5 kts to the south.

I make a point of not using bad language in my blogs, Dear Reader, but describing this latest occurrence, I just want to let rip with all the profanity at my disposal – which is substantial.

******!!!

At around 1645, engine on to charge batteries, I went below to fill in the log, and discovered the red “active” light on the stern gland bilge pump was on. Nigel had not long turned in, so rather than disturb him, I went into my cabin and ripped out my bed to investigate. Good news and bad. The stern gland was intact and not leaking. But… the engine bay was so full of water that it was flowing freely over the top and into the stern gland compartment. I then called Nigel, before opening the engine bay, to reveal a split cooling-water pipe from which copious amounts of seawater was pumping into the boat. It had long since flooded the engine bay, flowing freely into the main bilge and slowly sinking us. I killed the engine and groped down through the murky water to turn off the engine seacock. Reader, this was serious. Not only had we lost the engine, but we had a ton of water in the after bilges, which was even now seeping through the forward ones.

So, while Nigel assesses how to proceed to fix it, I lug down the toolbox and a length of spare hose from the cockpit lazarette, noting with some relief that Georgina was on course and carrying us along nicely.

Two hours later, both running with sweat and caked in black engine muck, we get the new pipe on and start the engine. She runs perfectly, no leaks, and exhaust water aplenty. “Get in there!”

We shake each other’s blackened greasy hands, before setting to work bailing out. That takes another four hours; hot, sweaty, filthy work, the two of us staggering about against the violent rocking, free surface water sloshing back and forth in the bilges as we try to balance buckets and bail out. by which time it’s fully dark and too late for food. At some point during our labours Georgina has decided to give up, slinging us off course into an untidy heave to. We decide to leave her hove to, nav lights and AIS collision alarm on, and go to bed.

Sunday 4^th December 2016

0134 – 15 01.9N 26 34.7W – Hove to

I wake, and leave Nigel snoring as I check our position, write up the log, and prepare to get under way. He wakes at 0230, refreshed and raring to go. We get under way by 0300, on a broad reach making a bouncy 7 knots. We share the remaining night watch, me crashing in the saloon until 0530 while Nigel takes the helm – for some reason the autopilot’s fluxgate compass has gone wild, so Georgina can’t hold a course. We’ll investigate in the morning.

1415 – 14 58.1N 30 49.3W Co 280 Sp5.4

Wind now steady back easterly, so put the genoa back on the pole, and goose-winged the main. Only 12 knots or so of wind, so quite pleased with our 5+ knots. Still no joy with fluxgate compass – have removed all possible sources of interference from the nav-station area, but no change in its erratic behaviour. Tried powering down everything and starting up one at a time. No good. Damn!

(A few days later it mysteriously resets itself and Georgina’s up and running again. Eventually we discover that the fluxgate is tripping each time Nigel goes past the nav station with his iPad switched on. Even placing his machine on the saloon table can send the compass crazy, from a good two metres away. Okay, so now we know.)

Monday 5^th December 2016

0610 – 14 57.3N 32 26.4W Co 290 Sp 6

Nigel: While on watch in middle of the night we had a visitor; a flying fish flew into the cockpit right in front of my face and landed in the piss bucket. After a quick look, I flipped it over the stern. Mid-afternoon yesterday a yacht passed about 2 miles astern flying a big spinnaker, en route to Brazil, judging by her course. First we’ve seen since Friday. Tried fixing the autopilot – thought we had it sussed, but it decided to go walkabout; Ward 4 by the looks of it. Just had a great skua flying around us. Out of filters for my rollups – couldn’t find any in Mindelo, not for lack of trying. Still hand-steering, but an uneventful day – thank God!

On flying fish. The novelty of flying fish quickly wore off over the next few days, with the beasts entering the cockpit and skidding across the sole, leaving their scales and smell everywhere. Every morning we’d find them littered across the decks and in every nook and cranny in the cockpit.

Wednesday 7^th December 2016

1344 – 14 10.6N 37 41.6W Co 285 Sp 5.5

Nigel: Last night Mike told me about steering by the stars – he uses it a lot. Must try that. We’d been talking about fixing the fluxgate compass, and carrying out a compass swing, when Mike, at the wheel, lost concentration as a big wave slewed us to windward and backed the genny. Mike steered on around, boxing the compass, then oversteered and did the whole manoeuvre again. Glad I was in the cockpit to witness it – we fell about in fits of laughter.

Yes, Dear Reader, I boxed the compass, not once, but twice. What made it funnier, we’d just been talking about doing a compass swing to try and calibrate the fluxgate. No, it didn’t fix itself.

Nigel: Our big bunch of bananas have ripened a little earlier than we’d hoped. Any suggestions for recipes? Must have eaten half a dozen yesterday (burp). They taste beautifully sweet. Did the first VBlog today, Mike doing commentary with me at the wheel. The take out was funny. I cooked tagliatelle bolognaise tonight, and just managed to get it on the t5able before sunset.

2126 – 14 13.0N 38 24.6W Co 280 Sp 4.5

Nigel:  We now do 2 x 3-hour watches each night, so I practice sailing to the stars. In this instance, it was the star just behind the wing of Pegasus. This technique is brilliant, letting you look out all around, rather than staring at the compass for three hours. That is, until the clouds come and crash the party.

Nigel got gradually more accomplished at steering this way, using the glitter-paths from the setting Moon and Venus, Vega on the starboard shroud, and the various stars in Calliope and Pegasus.

Thursday 8^th December 2016

1040 – 14 05.3N 41 16.1W Co 280 Sp 6

We now have around 1300 miles to go, and the last couple of days have passed pleasantly enough. The sea has become quite boisterous, but by now we’re well inured to the violent motion, coping well with cooking and cleaning, and even managing each to get a shower (seawater soap-down and fresh rinse) from time to time. This morning we have a new sail plan – Sailplan Charlie (Clipper Rig). Here we stow away the pole and the mainsail, and attach the genoa to the main boom. After a bit of trial and error, we discover this works best with the genny sheet hauled up tight to the boom. It’s wonderfully stable, easy to steer, even for Georgina, and gives us a good turn of knots in all wind speeds.

Saturday 10^th December 2016

0315 – 13 53.4N 44 11.3W Co 280 Sp 5.5

I’ve secretly been on tenterhooks for the past week. Why? Because misfortunes usually come in threes, and the last week has been trouble-free; and I’ve been trying to second-guess lady fortune on what her next trick will be. Well, now we know; three hours ago, she let rip with a real sneaky one. The genoa decided to part company with the top hoist-swivel, sending the full sail sliding overboard to float serenely alongside, held only by the tack-shackle and the sheets. I was just coming on watch when it happened, so quickly donned lifejacket and went forward to recover the errant sail while Nigel started the engine and held her steady down wind and swell. I have no idea where I found the strength to get that great sail inboard, but soon I had it all lashed down on the foredeck. With the swivel-hoist still at the top of the mast, there was no chance of hoisting that sail again, so we got the main up and continued on our way, resigned, for the time being at least, to completing the remaining voyage on main only.

Over the next few days we discuss various strategies for getting that genny back up on its furled, and conclude that, while getting the hoist down again should be quite a simple task (using an improvised grapnel of fish hooks seized onto the spinnaker halliard), hoisting the sail in these conditions would be difficult and quite dangerous. We would need virtually zero wind, and because I’ve come far enough south to guarantee consistent trade winds, that seems highly unlikely.

Thursday 15^th December 2016

2127 – 13 10.4N 57 42.6W Co 270 Sp 4.5

Our local time is UT -1, so for us, it’s still daylight. Wind down to 10 knots, so took the opportunity to pull down that hoist – our improvised grapnel worked a treat. However, attempts to get the genny hoisted failed miserably – so gave up that idea. The last five days have been characterised by wave after wave of heavy squalls, with the rain lashing down in torrents and the winds gusting 40 knots in sudden shifts, forcing us with our restricted sailplan to veer temporarily off course to keep from backing the main. When a squall hits it’s sudden and violent, forcing us to hand steer and react instantly to gusts and shifts as the boat gets slewed barely under control along at a ripping 9 knots. It's like driving a F1 racing car in the rain with dry-weather tyres. Scary but exhilarating. We have 249 miles to run and our ETA Prickly Bay, Grenada, is Saturday afternoon.

Saturday 17^th December 2016

1352 – I’m awakened from my afternoon slumber with Nigel’s strident shout “Land Ho!”