The Azores and Leg 2

Ponta Delgada

Our time in the Azores flew past rapidly, and we seemed to manage to be constantly doing something but never actually that busy: I think we must have gone local! Any grand plans we harboured as we arrived of visiting other islands were put paid to by a fatal trio of factors: the aforementioned lackadaisical or “manyana” attitude we seemed to gain by some form of osmosis; the requirement to check out and check in again between each island; and finally the need to fix the few items that we had had trouble with on the outward leg. Consequently I’m not even going to try to write this day by day or in any particular order as I’m not sure I can quite remember now (a couple of days out to sea).

Firstly the boat: other than the obvious re-provisioning (always entertaining in a foreign country where your grasp of the language is limited) there were two pressing issues on our minds as we entered, both pertaining to rudders: firstly the snapped windvane servo pendulum rudder shaft, solved by taking the offending joining piece to someone at the yard at the club who knew who could weld it. Secondly and more worryingly was the main rudder, which was stiff and groaning when I had relieved the autopilot of its duties a couple of miles out from the finish. There followed many hours of taking it in turns to lower ourselves into the lazarette (locker at the stern of the boat that the rudder quadrant is mounted in) and poking around, spraying oil and listening carefully whilst the other person turned the wheel back and forth. Eventually we called it a day, heading off for dinner with a vague plan to contact the yard and an engineer first thing in the morning to see if we could get Dragon hauled out and the rudder dropped and main bearings replaced as this was where the sound had been traced to. Slightly dejected and with a place on the start line seeming to slip from our grasp we headed to bed. 

Next morning Martyn got up and thought he would have a final play in the lazarette before we went around to the yard; once inside he found that the rubber sleeve that acts as a backup in the case of the main seal leaking and twists as the rudder turns had perished and broken up in a fold that we couldn’t see into and that the edge of the tear had been pulled down in between the rudder bearing and the shaft causing the stiffness and noise. some further poking and pulling it out with a screwdriver totally freed off the rudder. We cut off the remainder of the seal, replacing it with a piece of old wetsuit leg superglued around. Dragon was ready for the return leg!

With all the major jobs done onboard we left stocking up and refilling with water until closer to the start and went and hired a car to be picked up the following morning for two days to explore the island. Claire and Alan off Far Fetched from Guernsey joined us and we headed up to pick up the car at 9:30 the following morning as arranged, along with half the population of Ponta Delgada it appeared. Martyn went and queued and Claire, Alan and I waited outside for half an hour then gave up and went to a cafe for french pastries and coffee (hot chocolate for me). Eventually Martyn arrived with a set of keys and a slightly bemused look as when the one lady running the shop had finally got to him and the car that had turned up was rather different to the one we had expected: we had somehow acquired an automatic diesel Nissan 7 seater instead of the small runabout we had asked for; never mind, we had a car!

Once breakfast had been finished at a suitably leisurely pace we headed to where the hire shop had left the car parked on a steep hill and hopped in, whereupon we discovered that the car was the first automatic with a gearstick… but the key fitted and started so it had to be our car. Off we went!

Ten minutes later we were outside the main doors of the airport and not too sure how we got there, we had eventually found a large duel carriageway which we had naïvely assumed would lead us out of town, maybe if we tried the opposite direction? Here we were having safely navigated half way across the Atlantic to find a small speck on the chart (and maybe more worryingly expected to find our way back again) but couldn’t make it out of town! Eventually with Claire navigating by the rudimentary map on the tourist leaflet that immigration (three men in separate offices we spoke to who welcomed us warmly and with no hassle) had given us we found a road heading across the narrow and relatively low middle of the island to the centre of the northern coast.

We turned into the first town we saw and found a car park with an absolutely phenomenal view a few hundred metres down to the sea and along the dramatic coastline in either direction; we stopped to take pictures and generally absorb the atmosphere of the place when a man pulled in and called to us in Portuguese. Oh dear, must be a private car park, we thought; Claire, who was the closest to understanding Portuguese went over to placate him whilst we returned to the car to go. A minute later she returned to us with directions to the harbour and a chapel with a better view and a quintessential catholic graveyard with a great many flowers and tributes stored in what looked like oversized classic car headlights to keep off the sun and rain. The man, it transpired, had merely been desperate that we went to somewhere with a better view: “this is just the supermarket car park!” he had explained.

After following our mystery guide’s advice we took the northern coast road to the west to the next village where we found a cafe for cool drinks. We decided to turn inland and up the narrower roads to the lakes in the crater of the huge volcano that forms the north-west end of the Island. Here we had lunch at a restaurant that Alan and Claire had found on their last visit to the Azores overlooking the two lakes that cover much of the crater floor, where one is a green-y colour and the other far more blue-y, despite being adjacent to one another. 

After an extended and leisurely lunch we drove back to Ponta Delgada by the south-western coast then on past the city to and up one of the central mountains, which would probably have had incredible and expansive views if it were not for the thick mist that we encountered half way up as we hit the cloud base. After a brief stop that felt more like Scotland than only 39 degrees north we dropped back down out of the clouds and returned to the marina, parking the car in the underground car park by the main harbour-side street for the night. The next day was spent very similarly cruising around the eastern side of the island although no jaunts up any foggy mountains this time! All over the island we encountered empty old houses, despite there being plenty of fully occupied modern ones everywhere; at lunchtime we ate on the wooden veranda outside a restaurant that had been built out into the main street over the lines, causing the traffic to stop and go around you. A sort of wall had been put up at the end to shelter you from the oncoming vehicles but this meant that every few minutes a coach or lorry would squeeze by rapidly, inches away from the diners, very strange!

After we had returned the car we were into preparing to leave mode with a few jobs to do, provisioning to carry out (as in Falmouth engaging in that oldest of seagoing traditions - the borrowing of the shopping trolley to take the food to the boat in the marina) and filling up with water. There were also some events organised by the Clube Naval at Ponta Delgada and the RCYC for competitors and their families: firstly a coach trip which we missed as Martyn slept in and when I got up and he told me that we had missed it blithely said “no we haven’t, that’s tomorrow”, which it wasn’t. The relaxed pace of life had obviously go to me! Still we had seen most of the tour from the car so we didn’t miss too much.

Also on, and actually attended by us, was a social at the Clube on the Saturday night, where we got advice from Heinrick, the winner of the first leg by some distance; a meal on the Sunday that didn’t finish until gone midnight, much to our surprise when we looked at the time; and finally a pontoon party organised by the competitors to thank the Clube for their kind welcome that nearly sunk the marina despite the weather not playing ball. All in all we had a really fun time, seeing a bit of the Azores and getting to know the crews of the other boats better, from demonstrating the easiest way to break into a marina (twice) on the first night after a celebratory meal but before getting security passes for the marina, to the formal but still enjoyable meal before leaving. You may notice the prevalence of meals…..

The Start

The day of the start of the second (and final) leg of the AZAB 2015 dawned sunny and warm (well I presume it was like that at dawn- we weren’t up until a bit later having learnt our lesson in Falmouth that it is not much fun to sit around for hours before the start). After the previously mentioned mess up of converting between BST and UTC I was very careful not to do the same thing again for the start! The start line itself was around 1 nm east of the entrance to Ponta Delganda harbour and between a Portuguese Navy Corvette and a large orange buoy on safe water off the just of the shore to the north of it. The course was then to landward (north) of a buoy another mile or so upwind and ENE of the start, which everyone rounded and promptly turn back straight across the start line (which felt very odd for someone used to dinghy lap racing where crossing the start line on the way back downwind is a big no-no) and off round the western side of the island. Class 1 was again last to start but this time we had amended our start plan sufficiently that we were the penultimate boat to start and had already overtaken another one by the windward buoy, we’re getting used to this big-boat stuff!

Although there was nothing like the number of boats that were milling around in Falmouth before the start and no crowds ashore, those who were there certainly did there best to make up for it, coming in close to the waiting or started boats and waving enthusiastically; a fitting send off after a great week in the Azores. Leaving the supporters and very well armed race committee (I wouldn’t want to cross that line early!) behind we headed west along the south side of the island in a flukey NW wind, that repeatedly died and returned from a slightly different angle. A combination of Dragon performing quite well in light winds, a bit of luck, and I would definitely like to say good planning and skill (maybe!) let us pull though most of the fleet like that and by the time the wind died altogether we were drifting off the NW shore and in 3rd place overall and ahead of the race leader! Sadly I think we might have peaked too early as we’re back down more in our normal sort of spot. 

Tuesday evening was incredibly frustrating (in retrospect probably not helped by a thumping headache from not having drunk enough in such a hot climate) as we drifted about with everyone else, hoping to catch a puff of wind that might propel us in a roughly Falmouth-ward direction; or after a while any direction, just to stop the incessant creaking and groaning of a sailing boat at sea with full sail up in no wind, even with the sheets hard in. 

Wednesday 24th June 14.49

The wind slowly crept back into the picture in the first few hours of Wednesday, discreetly like a petulant child returning after a tantrum, so that we were first making half a knot (a big deal since I handed over about 11pm after a 3 hour watch with a record speed of 0.3 knots, backwards, and for a matter of seconds!), then 2 knots (3 hours later), then 5 (another 3), and finally 8 (you guessed it). Eventually about lunchtime we had to put a couple of reefs into the main as we broad reach in a beautiful westerly with clear skies, bright sun and just a touch too much warmth to want to do anything much. Occasionally a wave sends a splash of water across the deck and creates swirling distortions in the sunny patches front he hatches. 

Hopefully the speed stays up as I realised I read 7 books on the way from Stranraer to Ponta Delgada, but only have 2 left before I’m onto the cooking and guide books: maybe I’ll learn something useful… 

Most notable events so far this trip have been seeing a whale (of unknown species) surface briefly for air only about 30 or 40 ft away; although only a small section of its back was visible the sense of huge bulk was undeniable, and a little alarming so close to Dragon! Also our newly repaired wind vane has once again lost its rudder (and again saved by the safety line), apparently the weld competed in Ponta Delgada was not strong enough for the phenomenal loads it is exposed to on Dragon’s stern. Still the headache is gone and we’re making quick progress- all is good!

Thu 25th June 23.10

We’re now making pretty quick progress in a slightly east of north direction with one reef in the main and a few rolls onto the furling No 2 genoa, as we are not likely to need to go upwind, but as the wind strength is changing repeatedly it is best to just furl and unfurl this one instead of swapping between different headsails, which entails slowing right down as you have no foresail and turning close to the wind for at least 10 to 20 minutes, not to mention the effort involved on a bucking bow when the boat is, by definition, either under or over powered!

Overnight last night there was quite a strong blow of maybe 10 hours duration, for which we dropped the mainsail entirely and ran under headsail alone; the wind quickly abated as the blow passed at around first light. First light is surprising late here as ships time has remained BST, despite us travelling 25 degrees west, which is almost 2 hours change normally; add that to the fact we are still a long way south and although it is only just getting properly dark now (at about 11 pm) it will not get light until about 6 am. We are now north of 40 degrees and the temperature is returning to something more comfortable, for the moment at least. 

There has been a lot more wildlife on this leg: Martyn has now spotted porpoises twice, although I have missed them both times, once within a couple of hours of the start and once earlier this evening, although the species (or indeed if they were porpoise or just shy and un-acrobatic dolphins) has yet to be set in stone in the absence of any ID key onboard. For the record and ID’ing later they were dark on top and light underneath, and rolled in the manner of porpoise instead of the characteristic “jump” of a dolphin; they also were resolutely uninterested in us, although we did have the engine running in neutral to charge batteries at the time. I have seen quite a number or cory’s sheerwaters (I think), with their dark brown backs that seem to turn a steely grey as the sun touches the horizon, paler underside and wings that taper to a curved sharp point. Their flight remind me of the ubiquitous fulmar further north (one of my favourite birds to see at sea) although they perhaps do not have quite the panache of the latter’s death defying swooping just millimetres off the stormy ocean’s surface.

Tue 30th June 19.42

There’s been a bit of a gap in the blog writing efforts here onboard Dragon as I’ve been a little unwell; without going into too much information and in the interests of those of a more delicate temperament I’m only going to go so far as to say that it involved headache, the stomach being upset and painful, and a lot of time spent in the heads (the toilet). Eventually I traced the cause of the problem and why I was not getting better: the water we had taken onboard in Ponta Delgada was evidently disagreeing with me; I switched to using some of the back-up bottled water a couple of days ago and I’ve been improving steadily since. Unfortunately the first aid advice in these situations is drink plenty of water, which was not helping! I’m a lot better now but it did make the trip into a bit of an endurance test for a couple of days, when I was unable to lie down or sleep for more than 45 minutes and the boat was moving around a lot in quite big seas.

Since last entry on the 25th there has been a bit of everything weather-wise, short of taking the main down, but about 24 hours (ending yesterday evening) of beam reaching with a fraction of the headsail and three reefs in the mainsail was pretty quick; now however, we’re just about cheering to see 3 knots! Were only 150 nm short of Falmouth now and the “time to go” reading on the chartplotter had gone down to about 20 hours, now however it is reading more like 60… Ahh well, it won’t take that long to get in (I’m sure!) as there is a reasonable breeze due tomorrow but until then it is looking like we will be trying to make the most of very little breeze for the night. I’ve just rigged the preventer on the main as there is the gentlest of winds from the starboard quarter, I can foresee a long night ahead! The calmer spell and closer proximity has allowed us to have showers though as we know there is plenty of water left - we’re not finished the first of three tanks - so I feel a lot fresher and I think we are less likely to be put in quarantine or arrival now!

The fleet is bunching up as they hit this patch of calm and you can tell - the radio is littered with short catch-ups; we got a call from Outrageous a few hours ago as the wind died totally asking how we were getting on and saying “welcome to the parking lot”! Another competitor just called up a ship that was giving him the heebie jeebies as it bore down on his barely moving boat and was assured they wouldn’t hit him and could see him clearly - very reassuring. It is quite pleasant to have a mixture of voices of other competitors, Irish and even French Coastguards on the radio after days of the only noise being rather gruff spanish trawlermen! Amongst this joviality though a Mayday relay from the Irish Coastguard asking for help searching for 3 people from boats in the vicinity of Baltimore put any complaints about lack of wind into perspective rather.

An amusing conversation recently involved me enlightening Martyn on the practice of large ship crews to refer to sailors as WAFIs and it meaning (Wind Assisted F***ing Idiots)!

The Finish - Thursday 2nd July 5.45

The wind returned from the south on the morning of the 1st of July - how did we get to July already?! - and we made good speed on a beam reach, slowly reeling in Outrageous and Jager, whilst trying to keep Happy away! We skirted around the end of the TSS off the south of the Isles of Scilly, although apparently a few boats went north of the Isles of Scilly? As the light faded we found ourselves approaching the Lizard in very close proximity to Outrageous, with the other two boats still ahead or astern. At this point the tide was still against us, although it was easing greatly; we managed to push against it by goose winging Dragon and making somewhere in the region of 3 knots over the ground, having to had steer to keep the sails filled in the fading breeze and rolling waves that remained from the earlier wind. Outrageous was not able to keep the sails full so gybed off inshore in the hope of a favourable eddy; the gamble paid off and they were soon doing 6 knots past the Lizard, almost able to touch the lighthouse. They duly emerged about 100ft ahead of us as we finally left the adverse current.

The next couple of hours were spent passing and being passed by Outrageous as we sailed close hauled up the coast to the finish line off Falmouth. In the end after over 1300 miles of sailing Dragon was beaten over the line by Outrageous by just one boat’s length, totally surreal! Actually things were a little more complicated: as we were in a different class we had set off 10 minutes later than Outrageous but their corrected time is less than ours due to their handicap being “slower” than ours. Very exciting finish all the same though! We finished at 5:45 on the morning of the 2nd June, after a quick check with the welcoming rib as to which buoy the finish line was from exactly as neither us nor Outrageous were too sure…

Results can be found at azab.co.uk/results-2 and as always comments/questions are welcome. We’ve just spent a few days in Falmouth getting a few bits sorted and relaxing and are heading off for Rhu, possibly via the Isle of Man, this evening to pick up Fergus (my brother) and Jamie (Martyn’s son) to sail the last leg up to Arrdvourlie on Loch Seaforth, the Isle of Harris in time for Hebcelt. I’ll also upload a load of pictures but unfortunately I can’t add any more at the moment and my camera has broken so I am using an action camera that I can’t get to download the pictures to the computer. Watch this space for an update on the rest of the trip and some pictures at a later date!

Leg 1

The Start - Saturday 6th June, 12:30, Falmouth

The run-up to the start was quite a spectacle with nearly 70 competitors and countless other boats around to support the start and see us off; I can’t imagine there were fewer the 200 boats of all types crowded into a small area of sea in Falmouth Bay to watch the start between Pendennis Castle and Black Rock. I am certain I have never seen so many boats all at once in one place; to top it all off there was a large enough crowd in the grounds of the Castle as to be visible from boats. Although - having come so far down to the start - no-one had managed to get down to be in a boat to see us off, we did see the family of another boat’s crew that we had been sat next to at the meal on Thursday out to see them off, and so it was lovely to get a big cheery wave from them as we passed them somewhere in the melee of the wait for the start.

All stowed ready to go - including a box of 11 cornish pasties of a variety of flavours!

Dragon in the middle of a mass of AZAB boats all rafted up before the start.

Being in Class 1, the fastest class on handicap, we were the last to start and so had an hour of motoring up and down waiting for our start as the other classes were counted down and set off on their way by the surprisingly calm voice of the race officer (“yacht XXXXX, if it indeed you who has no sail number on, I trust one will be there by the time you reach the Azores?”), who like everyone else here has given us a warm welcome. Our cunning plan was, due to the length of the race, motor about a short distance from the start line with the spectator boats (and as it turned out half of our class) and then once the other classes were gone put up sails and sail across the line, aiming to start without any near misses or collisions instead of being too fussed about place: a far cry from the inches (if you’re lucky) of space left in a dinghy race! It transpired we were not alone in this plan, although possibly the most lackadaisical about the time of the start - we crossed it dead last, nearly 5 minutes after the gun due to a short delay hoisting the no 3 genoa we were using. I think it is probably (hopefully!) the latest i have ever been for a start but not a problem when you consider the length of race ahead; what was important was to start and get away with no problems.

Sat 6th June, 22.57 -   49° 20’ N,   5° 50’ W

Darkness has pretty much fallen now and I’m sitting typing this alone in the cockpit on my first night watch of the trip proper. The stars are appearing one by one above me, slowly taking the sky from the evening light and joining all the lights around of the other boats, mostly the other AZAB competitors who twinkle green off to port and red off to starboard, sadly a few also sparkle white ahead of us! There are several ships around although so far they have all prudently decided to steer clear and not try to thread through a fleet of over 60 sailing boats that are still mostly within a circular area with a diameter of maybe 10 nm, all of whom they would have to give way to as we are a distance west of the shipping lanes and of course non are using their engines. Most of the boats are still quite densely packed really, I've had to disable the AIS proximity alarm for Martyn to get any sleep or me to get any time not running down to the chart table.

Monday 8th June, 09:13 - 47° 41’ N,   11°26’ W

I had to stop writing the last entry then as we were getting too close to another couple of boats and the wind-vane was meandering slightly in the fairly gentle breeze, so I went to hand steer and never got back to writing. Since then the wind has come round to be astern and built. We spent most of Sunday with the huge asymmetric up, wrestling it down once we had started to surf at up to 12 knots; the sail doesn't have any furler or snuffer and so getting it down is a question of shading it from the wind behind the main and lots of grabbing and pulling to try to get it on the boat dry!

As the wind continued to build reefs were put in the main and eventually it was stowed entirely at about 3 am today; now we are sailing under a small area of the furling genoa only, yet I saw the speed over the ground (SOG) on the GPS show 14 knots an hour or so ago during a surf. The waves are pretty massive at the moment which made rounding up into the wind to drop the main a question of timing as much as anything. The autopilot is doing a good job keeping us on course, although we are having to run the engine every few hours to keep the batteries topped up. We’re actually making quite quick progress not that far off the rhumb line and slowly overhauling a couple of boats on the AIS, the number visible onscreen now about 5 as the fleet spread out.

Also in overnight on the VHF were news of two separate yachts dropping out and heading for France, or in one case possibly straight home. On both boats the electronic autopilot was to blame - on one the gearbox failed and on the other it simply couldn’t keep the yacht on course in the prevailing conditions - both yachts made the decision that hand steering with only one or two people on board was not feasible for the several days of sailing still ahead. It is very sad to hear of people unable to continue after all the preparation and so on put in for such a trip, especially since one of the yachts was rafted to us in Falmouth before the start and speaking to the crew they seemed well prepared and excited for the voyage ahead. It was nice however to hear the camaraderie and good grace with which people spoke on the radio, wishing each other good luck, whether they were continuing to the Azores or one of the boats with an amended destination. This is why when writing a log you never put “to” the Azores but leave it blank or put “towards” if you must write an intended destination.

Onboard Dragon things are - touch wood - going well so far; we’re eating well as we still have plenty of cool fresh food from Falmouth so it was stir fry on Saturday, bolognese on Sunday and plenty of cornish pasties, bacon butties, quiche, custard tarts, yoghurt and fresh fruit in between times, plus the obligatory treats tub for night watches. We have received a message saying that on the water we were around 25th place out of about 65, although that number will most certainly increase dramatically once Dragon’s painfully fast handicap is taken into account. In fact if you are (or were I guess?) watching us on the tracker you will probably know far better than us where we are relative to the other boats, as all we have to go off here are the few visible on AIS and guessing where they will be in the fleet. Anyway, I’m going to leave it here for now as the irregular roll in these waves makes typing quite hard work!

Tues 9th June, 22.57 -   46° 00’ N,   16° 10’ W

We gybed this morning onto a course that takes us pretty much straight down the rhumb line to the Azores; it says something about the different timescale and mindset of ocean passages that that was the first manoeuvre of its like done since the start of the race on Saturday, and we are likely to be on this course for at least a couple of days more, if not longer. Sail changes and trimming generally get done something between a few hours and a couple of days apart, all rather different to dinghies where it is a matter of minute or even seconds! The point is though that very little has changed in the last 24 hours, other than the aforementioned gybe which has at least put the galley and saloon seats on the leeward (“downhill”) side, making for rather less sliding about when cooking. The roll of the boat in the sizeable waves is still pretty impressive though and provides moments of surreal comedy, such as when I learnt we had gybed by my lifejacket and jumper landing on me in my berth!

We’re still running under a fraction of the genoa, with the autopilot steering and running the engine at times to keep the batteries charged up. Watches are kept from down below as the cockpit is a place where you need to be clipped on and holding on tight, all the while risking a soaking from a rogue wave breaking as it hits us and sending what can only be described as a lump of water over the boat, consequentially we are now keeping the main hatch shut, although the washboards are out. Its pleasantly sunny but the NE wind is still keeping the temperatures well below what we expected to encounter at this latitude, although that does make sleeping easier. I’m definitely getting into the rhythm of the passage now and woke this morning feeling properly refreshed for the first time. Different things become important out at sea and its an odd state really that even my best attempt to describe sounds like an oxymoron: you have lots of time to think, read, reflect and so on but yet seem to never get around to doing things like writing this. The reason may not be entirely unrelated to the extra effort required to complete a simple task such as getting the laptop out and typing onboard a boat that is rolling by about 30 to 40 degrees and going up and down several metres in a rather unpredictable fashion, all over a period of about 10 to 15 seconds. Despite this fairground ride I have remarkably few bruises, other than on my knees!

Food becomes pretty important, especially when you are spending half the night up and about on watch: mealtimes have notably become less fixed, matching when we happen to both be up and hungry more than anything else: I know some boats report the opposite but I guess their watch system is probably less flexible than ours too. You find what works for a particular crew and boat I guess. There is still some fresh food but some stuff is running out: the pasties for a start are low! Once Martyn is up again I’m going to make some flapjacks with chocolate chips to nibble on night watch. 

For those not used to cooking on a boat there are a number of differences between the galley on board and a normal kitchen: firstly everything is in reach without much moving around and the work surfaces have fiddles around the edge which are a sort of one or two inch high fence to stop items on the worktop or the inevitable spills from escaping so easily, although you would be amazed how high a piece of crockery can jump - thank goodness for unbreakable melamine! The other big difference is the cooker is gimballed, meaning it can swing to match the roll or heel of the boat and has pan holders on it, which do exactly what is says on the tin. The top of the cooker is also a useful place to clamp a mixing bowl etc. while cooking in these conditions. We have however, found a niche not exploited (to our knowledge) by one of the multitude of cooking shows available: cooking at sea. I think it would be a “smash” hit (sorry, couldn’t resist), drawing audiences from both the traditional cookery sector and those looking for a modern replacement to the likes of Laurel and Hardy.

Our world has shrunk to the small, bouncing environment we inhabit as the only trace of the outside world sighted recently was a cargo ship several miles distant and we have not seen or heard another competitor since yesterday when Martyn was called by the skipper of Outrageous, a Swan 47 and one of the handful of other boats carrying a young crew; it will be interesting to meet the people on some of the boats around us as we only met a handful of boats’ crews before the start and all we know about the boats that we were sailing near for quite extended periods of time is gleaned from one of the copies of the race programme onboard, which has the bio of boat and crew available on the website in it. 

I’m going to go and make some flapjacks now so will continue my ramblings at another time! I must say if you’ve read this far I’m not to sure if I should congratulate you or be worried really….

Wed 10th June, 01:41 45° 17’ N,   17° 10’ W

The waves are now definitely either bigger, more beam on, or both. Whichever the case is, Dragon is being affected more now than earlier, although the dark leads to an unpredictability that always makes the sea feel rougher. All the hatches are firmly shut and the companionway hatch is also across to stop the waves that land on the coachroof every wee while from joining us inside. I went out to stop the engine that was on to charge the batteries and noticed that the wind vane servo rudder that is in the water behind the boat constantly and produces the force that turns the wheel being towed along by its safety line as the stock it is mounted on had actually snapped, presumably when Dragon was surfing down a wave (currently the fastest seen on the GPS is 14.8 knots, but the actual maximum may well be a fair bit more). Something to fix in the Azores, at least the weather is forecast not to be upwind much before we get there so we should have no issue using the autopilot and running the engine to top up the batteries. Still, we are making good progress in the right direction, have come half the distance from Falmouth, and the chocolate flapjacks are yummy!

Fri 12th June, 17.08 -   40° 11’ N,   23° 30’ W

Its sunny, warm (shorts and t-shirts weather - although that was true in Falmouth for me but most the other crews seemed to disagree), there is a force 3/4 blowing on a beam reach over a gentle swell and we’re making about 7 knots directly towards Saõ Miguel, the largest of the 9 islands of the Azores Archipelago and now less than 200 miles away. The finish is off Ponta Delgada on the southern shore of the island, and we know that at least the first boat to finish is already there.  At one point it looked like we would possibly make it in under the one week mark (midday Saturday) but due to a frustrating spell of very little wind last night - that caused the sails to slat across the boat terribly as Dragon rolled in the residual swell from the previous few days' winds - with the current conditions we are looking at an arrival either tomorrow evening or Sunday morning. 

We’re still eating well, even if the concept of normal mealtimes has well and truly gone out of the window, half a pan of stew sits on the cooker to reheat later and there is still a range of fresh veg that have survived quite well, although the tatties have all started sprouting. 

Other than a few fishing boats and a couple of cargo boats there has been nothing on the AIS for several days now, and certainly no sign of any of the other AZAB boats, although we know from messages passed on the the satellite tracking that there are some not too far away - odd!

The Finish - Saturday 13th June 19.29, Ponta Delgada Harbour

As we approached Saõ Miguel the wind backed towards west but never too far to hold the westernmost point of the island. To us this made the decision of which side of the Island to go an obvious one: we were approaching it quickly on a close reach; the finish line was slightly to the west of the centre of the southern shore and going to the west would put us upwind of the island and out of the lee of its mountains and the havoc they would play with the gentle airflow present. This proved to be a very prudent decision and one that meant gained significantly on the yachts that tried to pass to the east of the island because they were slightly closer to it and the GRIB (weather) files were suggesting it would be faster; this time looking at what was actually around us proved to be the better method.

A faint line was spotted in the clouds about 30 of 40 miles out but disappeared like a mirage; half that distance gone and the murky day suddenly cleared in the manner of a magician’s trick to reveal a green and mountainous island with a large mountain closest to us at the western end and a lower but lumpy area stretching off in an easterly direction. We took the western coast as close as we dared to and consequently got a good view of the beautiful coastal towns, lush green fields (the Azores are volcanic, very fertile  and quite highly cultivated), and peculiar flat-topped rocks, remarkably close to leeward after a week out of sight of land.

The first other yacht for several days was spotted around this time but transpired to be a French yacht motoring north and not a lost competitor or a search party out to find us! We bore away around the headland at Ferraria and ran down the coast of the island goose winged with the genoa poled out. Not wanting to loose ground to leeward of the finish we sailed as close as we dared to the harbour wall and rounded up to tack across the line at the entrance of Ponta Delgada Harbour accompanied by a welcoming rib from the Clube Navel de Ponta Delgada and were accompanied into our berth in the marina, surrounded by the 17 other AZAB boats already finished and some yachts that are part of the ARC Europe rally. We finished at 19.29 exactly on Saturday 13th June.

We were greeted on the pontoon by others that caught out lines and welcomed us to the Azores! As soon as we had stood Dragon down we were invited onto another yacht to have a drink and met some of the other crews who had just finished, then headed out to find a restaurant in the town for a celebration of our arrival. 

We slept well on Saturday night, although I couldn’t quite grasp being able to stay in bed all night and not need to get up! Sunday morning was sunny and we had the chance to explore Ponta Delgada somewhat and start fixing the few problems encountered on Dragon but I will leave that for the next entry, as I am out of time now. 

Thank you for all your comments on Facebook and the blog and so on, I’m just catching up with them now!

Tracking and a couple of pictures from Falmouth

Hello again,

We start the race tomorrow at around 12:30 so I'll have to hold the blog updates until we get there in around 1 to 2 weeks. We've been so busy getting ready in Falmouth that I've unfortunately not had time to write about it but I will once we are on our way and post it from the Azores. 

Meanwhile there is a website to track all the boats in the race: http://yb.tl/azab2015 (we appear as Dragon of Hamble).

Dragon rafted up ready to go.

Some of the Azab boats rafted alongside.

Jamie

The Scillies and on to Falmouth

Fri 29th May, 15.50 -   49° 54’ N,   5° 29’ W

We’re now below 50° North and the weather has certainly improved. A few miles off to port is the coast of Cornwall: Land’s End leads onto the sweeping expanse of Mounts Bay, passing the magnificently named Pedngwinian Point before the coastline appears to terminate at Lizard Point on the horizon ahead. Falmouth, our destination for this relatively short hop of about 60 nautical miles from the Scillies, lies around this famous landmark. Sailing in northern Scotland, names that are remote and far-flung to most such as Ardnamurcan and Cape Wrath are local, but the names that appear again and again when reading the sailing press are almost theoretical points always distant over the horizon. Now though we are about to round Lizard point and sail into Falmouth - they do actually exist!

We arrived in the Scillies on Monday evening and as I mentioned earlier, took a mooring at St Mary’s where we could take the tender in to a pontoon on the quay at Hugh Town. At the end of the quay is one of the two ways of arriving in the Scillies (other than your own boat), the passenger ferry Scillonian III which has served the islands since the 1920s and is still the mainstay of the islander’s way of life. On Tuesday we explored Hugh Town, finding the islands in the final throes of the Scilly Isles Folk Festival, arriving just in time to enjoy the last couple of tunes of the farewell session in a pub overlooking the town beach, right at the end of the quay. The tunes were familiar, but played in quite a different style to the norm in the sessions I am used to in Scotland: the pace was less rapid and the instead of playing several tunes as a “set” one tune was played but built up and developed to a greater extent. The session was of a pretty high calibre with a range of instruments including a couple of fiddles and even a clarinet, and a good spread of ages. Great to see and I was quite disappointed my guitar was still on the boat.

We headed on into town and found the perfect antidote to many miles at sea: indulgent cream teas with such shameless quantities of jam and clotted cream as to be quite decadent! We got to know the lady who served us in The Wheelhouse Cafe on the far side of the tarbert - not that it would ever be referred to as such outwith Scotland to the best of my knowledge - overlooking Porthcressa Beach. After a relaxing hour, and a doze in the sun in the case of our Skipper, we continued our leisurely circuit of the town, finding the Chandlers (a shop that sells things for boats) on the return journey and purchasing a variety of items to do a few jobs on the boat: bolts to fix the fridge lid; pipe connectors for the salt water pump, to allow us to use seawater for washing up and so on and save on precious fresh water from the tanks; retroreflective tape for the lifebuoys and sling, the list goes on! We returned to the boat to start the jobs and have dinner before returning to sample to local hospitality (and use the free wifi to recommence contact with the outside world). On returning to the tender (not having drunk a drop of alcohol) Tim determined that the gap between the steps down to the pontoon and said pontoon was indeed wide enough to fall in, if only up to your knees.

Wednesday morning, or what was left of it after we roused ourselves from our respective cabins, was spent completing the jobs which we had supplied for the previous day. In the afternoon, after a hearty lunch, we returned to the shore for more cream teas, although the lack of sun but copious bracing breeze lead to a unanimous decision to sit on the inner side of a pane or two of glass and for me to switch my order to cream tea and hot chocolate from the cooling coke of yesterday. After a comfortable hour (and a “pudding” of ice-cream for me and Martyn) we shopped at the co-op and Martyn made to take the shopping back to Dragon, whilst Tim and I waited in the pub with Michael, Martyn’s nephew who has just arrived to join us for the next part of the trip by the tiny passenger aeroplane from Land’s End - the other way of getting to the islands from mainland Britain. We spent a while getting to know Michael a bit before heading for a glorious meal in the Galley restaurant. On our return journey to the boat Michael, who had been hearing stories of Tim’s investigative endeavours of the previous evening, obviously decided that replication was required for any real conclusions to be drawn and obliged by proving Tim entirely correct. Score so far in the Scillies: three pairs of wet shoes (one on account of a leaking dinghy floor), two cream teas and one lost killcord which I didn't attach back to the dinghy after using it - I seem to be making an unfortunate habit of losing them.

On Thursday we toured a bit of the Isles of Scilly with Dragon, although we spent more time eating than sailing, by virtue of a pub lunch outside the Turk’s head on St Agnes, a lovely short walk from the anchorage variously referred to as The Cove or Wingletang Bay and a third and final cream tea from our evening mooring in Porthcressa Bay (weather: outside, cream tea and lemonade in a proper glass bottle - it all felt quite Enid Blighton). I also took the opportunity to buy a proper wide-brimmed sunhat that would make my Aussie relatives proud, maybe it will be of use keeping the rain off my face and neck on return to Scotland? The others were quite restrained in their comments really! The evening was spent relaxing on the beach before heading out to the boat for a late dinner, pleasant conversation and a few songs on the guitar. 

We left for Falmouth in a strong westerly this morning having changed the genoa for a small high cut No. 4 blade jib, accompanied by a tune (on a whistle I think) from a large motorboat anchored nearby. Once out of the shelter of the Scillies the seas were greater and we rigged a gybe preventer on the main to stop the boom banging on each wave and shook out the third reef as the wind moderated slightly. Since then we have been bowling along at between 7 and 10 knots, with the sound of a rush of water as the crest of a wave passes beneath Dragon. Lunch was pizza and pancakes in the sun, although the roll of the waves meant the mixing bowl had to be left clamped onto the other, unused, gas ring by the panholders to stop it spilling. There are a fair few ships around, although we are in the English Channel, one of the busiest shipping lanes on the planet, so I probably shouldn’t be too surprised! We passed quite close to another yacht earlier (Misty) and got some pictures of them and them us, so I will have to keep a look out for them if they come into Falmouth to exchange photos. There is a trimaran showing on the AIS as slowly catching us but Falmouth is almost in sight to maybe we will stay ahead!

Later that evening - Port Pendennis Marina, Falmouth

We didn’t stay ahead. We were only a couple of minutes later after putting our foot down somewhat as they approached and we were just about keeping up, which is not bad against such a speed machine! 

As always, comments/questions welcome.

Jamie

Photos from the previous post!

Here are a few pictures from the first blog post that I couldn't upload before, hope you enjoy them!

Stranraer

... and again

Dragon sailing well on her way across to Ireland.

Don and Martyn caught contemplating a rather large ship....

Arrival at Dún Laoghaire.

We must be in Ireland!

The distinctive towers by Dublin Harbour in the distance.

Martyn gets arty spray painting the storm jib to meet the race regs.

Meanwhile Tim had been channelling his inner Blue Peter presenter and making up wire
strops covered in plastic balls to allow the storm jib to be hoisted over the furled genoa.

And the finished result, hands only slightly orange...

The chart table

The chartplotter showing the AIS targets, (blue arrow shapes) that represent other boats  and ships, and us (black arrow shape)

The big no 1 laminate genoa up in the Irish Sea

...and it taking up Martyn's cabin once down again!

This is actually a large ship, less than a mile away, can you tell the nav lights?

Early evening as the Scillies hove into view

Tim takes the helm on the approach to the Scillies

The sunset by a cardinal mark showing the westernmost point of the northern Scillies

We're on our way...

We're on our way...

Hello everyone, welcome to the first post on the blog so fingers crossed all is rosy! 

Sun 24th May, 16.15

I'm writing this in the middle of the Irish Sea in brilliant sunshine and no wind whatsoever - it feels like we are already in the Azores! There are however many miles to go before that, and I'm sure some less clement weather. 

Anyway to catch up thus far: Dragon was launched in Inverness towards the end of April, after some major work by Martyn and friends and shamefully little from me as I was still away at uni. During her time on the hard her mast was lowered and all standing and running rigging; cables, lights and aerials up there replaced and the mast track etc all well lubricated. On the boat itself a huge amount of time was spent fitting all sorts of safety gear and making sure everything already there worked, in order to pass a safety inspection in Falmouth before the start. We've about a week before then and there are still a few odd jobs left to do to conform with the 80 pages of safety rules provided; as I write Martyn is labelling all the potentially detached “floaty” things like lifebuoys and so on.

The fully reassembled boat left Inverness in the first week of May with Martyn and Walter on board to transit the Caledonian Canal to Oban, yours truly still AWOL due to uni commitments. She sat for a couple of weeks on a buoy in Dunstaffnage before Martyn, Don and Graham set off for the trip south proper. Graham jumped ship in Gigha and I joined Dragon on Wednesday evening in Stranraer, enjoying/enduring the delights of Scottish bus travel on the way. I'm pretty sure I can think of ways to be less comfortable for more money, but I’d have to be imaginative.

Thursday morning, 5am (oh, for it to have been 26 hours earlier!) saw us motoring out of the rather shallow marina at Stranraer, which although I only saw it in pleasant enough weather was not nearly as bad as I had been led to believe and I spent an enjoyable hour sat outside a cafe in the centre of town whilst I waited for Dragon to arrive.

The forecast of moderate NW winds that had led us to estimate an easy beam reach of roughly 16 hours straight to Dublin was not quite as accurate as its makers had hoped: the passage actually became 26 hours beating (zig zagging as you can’t sail straight into the wind) as the breeze actually materialised as a hugely variable SW. Still, it was nice to see both the Belfast and Isle of Man coasts from close by.

Don is from Dublin and met Martyn though sailing in a boat partially owned by the Commodore of Royal St George Yacht Club in Dún Laoghaire and so we were welcomed to stay on their pontoon and use their phenomenal faculties. And, due to the rather prestigious nature of the club, Martyn wore a shirt (photographic evidence provided below)! 

Our welcome to Ireland could not have been friendlier: every person we met was friendly, helpful, generous and interesting. We will almost certainly be back on the return journey north. I’d never been to the Republic of Ireland before and it was an especially interesting day to experience it for the first time as we arrived at 7am on the day of the referendum (equal marriage and reducing the age required to be president to 21). There was definitely a high level of engagement and it reminded me of the days surrounding the Scottish independence referendum last year. The next day there was a palpable sense of pride at the overwhelming “yes” vote for equal marriage rights - and the result of the second question? “Nobody knows, and nobody really cares” was the answer. It does seem pretty unlikely that anyone below the current age limit would become president anyway. 

We spent much of our time in Dublin doing jobs on the boat: spray painting the storm job so that sat least 50% of its area is brightly coloured and making a way of hoisting it over the furled genoa, then test hoisting it and the trisail. We also fitted the wheel attachment and clutch for the windvane steering, which will steer the boat without using battery power like the autopilot does. We also narrowly avoided a fire when the hot knife rolled onto its trigger and ignited a bag of safety gear from an old liferaft that was sat on the chart table seat. Luckily I happened to go down below at just the right time and so we could throw the bag overboard and put it out. This is how me and Martyn spent 10 minutes leaning over the edge of the pontoon of probably Ireland’s most prestigious yacht club catching slightly singed survival bags and other assorted safety equipment!

Don left us in Dublin, but not until after an evening at a real Irish pub and a real Irish Italian restaurant! The first and only other time I had sailed with Don was to Norway three years ago so it was great to see him again: there is never a dull moment with him around. During the evening we discovered that maybe the British stereotype of excessive obedience is more true than I had thought when we were called out to by a passing couple for buying a ticket onto the DART (local commuter train system) when one of the gates was just open, we still only ended up paying one way however!

We left at a (slightly delayed) 5am again this morning (Don: “With Martyn, it’s always ‘Let’s leave at 5’!”), and started the day with a gentle following Northerly, again not quite what was forecast in terms of direction. We took advantage of the light winds to try to figure out the new wind vane self steering - a serious piece of engineering - and its various quirks; although this morning we were never quite able to get it, in the gentle wind that has picked up as I have been writing it is now steering us upwind perfectly.

We also spent a while with the huge green, dragon festooned, gennaker up; the pictures really don’t give an accurate impression of quite how huge it is to hoist and man-handle back onto the deck. We've also taken down the furling cruising genoa and started using the racing ones which you change for a smaller sail as the wind gets stronger. On the back of the boat is an inflatable dan buoy, or floating flagpole that you throw in to show the position of a man overboard more clearly, which was out of date and looking past its best to say the least. As it needed servicing anyway we decided to test it and got a surprise when it worked!

Competing with the windvane steering for most useful addition to the boat is the AIS (Automatic Identification System) which has been amazing. It shows on the chartplotter the position, speed, direction, name, size, closest point of approach and time of said passing, and much more about any ships in the area and sets off an alarm if one gets close, making watch keeping much easier. You can see the a map of all the ships and Dragon whilst we are close enough to the shore and underway by going to www.vesselfinder.com and searching for Dragon of Hamble. If we are sailing then we should appear and you can see where we are and so on! If you can’t see us we are probably tied up somewhere.

Anyway, that’s where we are at now, and this is what long distance sailing should be like: the boat is only needing our attention occasionally, there is plenty of food and drink and the wind is gentle and sea is smooth enough to allow you to walk about unhindered, and the AIS is giving us plenty of warning of any large ships in the area. We’re relaxing and getting some jobs done in case it gets worse during the 24-36 hours that it is likely to take to get to the Isles of Scilly so I’ll leave it there for now. I'm not to sure if I should be thanking you, applauding you or asking if you are procrastinating if you've read this far! Hopefully future posts will be shorter and less spread out, although the posting will be pretty sporadic as to when we get wifi.

Fair winds and calm waters,

Jamie

Monday 25th May, 02.30

The winds up to a good force 5 or 6 from the W or NW and we’re bowling along under double reefed main and the furling genoa, which me and Tim have just finished putting a few rolls into to calm things down as we were approaching the level that the autopilot starts to struggle. Even after reefing though, Dragon keeping up an average of 7 knots over the ground against the tide. 

After dinner (lasagne, although a pre-prepared one) the wind died back off and then shortly came back and built from the NW, as was predicted in the earlier radio forecasts. We motored for a while in the calm then turned head to the wind and hoisted the smaller furling genoa for the night (although it was already pretty dark by this point) due to the wind being forecast to build up. Once we had hoisted the sail we headed off on our new course and hit the stop button for the engine. Nothing happened. Eventually the manual stop button on the side of the engine was located and pressed and the engine stopped. The cause of the problem turned out to be simple: in my cabin on the edge of the bed there are two large red lever switches: one for each set of batteries; unfortunately, whilst getting dressed in the dark I must have caught one on my boots or something and switched it off. Still, it was a good exercise in practising fault finding: silver linings and so on…

We’re back on watches after our earlier excitement but Martyn is just up and the wind's up some more so about to put the third and final reef in the main.

3.20

That’s the mainsail now third reefed and we’re still making 7 knots, the wind is up quite a bit. Its absolutely amazing outside: the sea is now moderate and every white top is highlighted by a flash of green bioluminescence in the moonless night; our wake is a green roadway stretching back behind us and the bow wave is a green arrow through the sea, pointing to our destination as our course is straight for the Isles of Scilly for the first time in the passage. Fantastic.

We’re now around 15 nautical miles off the southern tip of Wales and the waters around here are pretty busy: we avoided a number of ships earlier when the engine was on. Now however the only boat within a few miles is another small vessel that is about 8 miles behind us on exactly the same course that we are pulling away from, not that we’re counting or anything! If it were not for us both having AIS we would have no idea of there existence nor they ours, all we know about our accidental companion is a size: 37ft, and that their name is More Madness. Ships that pass in the night and so on.

Tuesday 26th May 10.41

First light on Monday saw us cruising along comfortably with little change from earlier, in fact very little changed - other than the wind easing so we shook out the reefs and rigged a preventer to stop the boom banging about - until we were only a few miles off our destination when the mist off to port lifted like a curtain at the theatre and the Isles of Scilly suddenly appeared to conduct their opening act. The setting sun illuminated the scene in a manner fitting with the theatre metaphor and it all produced an impressive welcome, as none of us had been to the Scillies before. We put into Port St Mary’s, and in one of those miracles of modern technology we were getting messages from people watching us on AIS as we arrived, which was a little surreal! We found a mooring that we have paid for for three nights so intend to spend a couple of days doing further jobs on the boat and exploring the islands a little.
Internet connection not very good so will post pictures later. Feel free to add any comments.