Log of Robinetta: Liverpool to Peel

The Friday afternoon bus to Liverpool got us there at just gone ten. We walked to the Marina through the Albert dock and along the river walk. It had obviously been raining, but was dry now and surprisingly warm. Robinetta felt dry when we opened her up, a reminder that we had only been gone for four days. The Drainman pump had kept Worm from filling too; it is a very useful gadget and I'm glad we got it working again.

The first lock out next morning was at 11.30. We did not try to get in to that one, but were off the pontoon in time for the next lock cycle. I reversed Robinetta off the finger birth easily enough, but found it very difficult to get her alongside the pontoon in the lock. The lock basin feels square, very wide but short, and I was going too fast for my own comfort as we entered the lock. In the end Julian took over and easily brought us alongside.

We were out into the river by 12.10. The tide ran strongly against us and we crabbed out, but there was enough depth of water to let us straighten up and motor down river outside the channel. I tried calling Mersey Radio to report out movement, but they could not hear us clearly and told us to call again when we were clear of the marina. We raised the stay sail to help the engine fight the tide, and I got the bowsprit out and bent on the no 1 jib. It was a bit gusty, and we soon changed it for the no 2. Wind over tide made the river a little lumpy, but nothing that caused a problem, although when I went forward to retie a mast hoop that had come loose I had to hold on tight, and regretted not putting on a safety strap.

We turned into the wind by the Echo Arena building and got the main sail up, reefed, then called Mersey Radio again. They recorded us this time, but stated they could not see Robinetta. A few minutes later they called us and asked if we had a blue hull; they could now see us. They asked us to report again at buoy C22, and kept a good eye on us as we sailed, and motor-sailed slowly out along the Queen's Channel. It felt quite strange to hear the pilot boats reporting on our progress as they passed!

Liverpool from the Queen's Channel

We tried to keep just outside the channel, in what would have been the expected yacht behaviour at Harwich or Portsmouth, but received a call, telling us we had strayed outside the channel and to stay in it at all times. After that we did. Apparently the revetment (or training wall) is very close to the channel and they did not want us going onto it on a falling tide.

The tide stopped impeding us a couple of hours after we left the marina, and we sailed with the engine off a lot of the time. We had to put it on where the channel curved, because tacking across the channel did not seem like a good idea.

Once clear of the Queen's channel we said farewell to Mersey Radio, and set off on a heading of 300º magnetic towards the Calf of Man, 60 nautical miles away. Our lovely South Westerly wind held steady for a couple of hours, then dropped and backed to South Easterly. Not ideal as we were now on a run. By seven it had died away, leaving nothing but an uncomfortable swell. We fitted the tiller pilot, but it could not cope with the conditions, and the new mounting Julian had made at Holyhead failed. We would have to hand steer the compass course all the way.

With hand steering we would need to use shorter watches, two hours on, and two hours off. Staring at a compass for longer than that would be impossible. Since it would soon be getting dark we lowered and stowed the main once the wind failed. The swell was pushing the boom all over the place. So we lashed it down.

I had just settled down in the cabin at 23:10 when Julian called from the cockpit. Could I check that the bilge pump was working? Grumbling a little I did so, but he was right to check. The bilges were full enough that the float switch was right up, but the electric bilge pump was dead. I came up on deck, and worked the manual pump until it sucked dry. We did that at every watch change from then on.

By Midnight the wind was back, from the west, at about force 3. I unrolled the jib, but our course was too close to the wind for the main, so it stayed down. The seas rolled Robinetta uncomfortably all night, and sleeping was almost impossible. Holding the course with nothing to aim at was also quite challenging. The moon rose behind us, and a few stars could be seen, but only over my shoulder. Ahead was dark, with nothing but lights from commercial boats, none of which were close enough to worry about, but kept a close eye on them.


Isle of Man from Robinetta

Julian took over the watch at 3 a.m, and by the time I “woke” next the sun was up, and I could see the Isle of Man, or at least its hills above the low cloud.
We were too late to get through the sound between the Calf of Man and the Isle of Man, so headed south past Chicken Rock. Once we were clear of the rocks, at about 09:00 we turned north-north- west, and Julian proposed getting the main sail up.

All sorts of things went wrong. Not all of them because we were tired. First the throat halyard was jammed under the topping lift. Then another two of the mast hoops came untied. Remembering how unpleasant tying on one had been in the Mersey I suggested leaving them, but Julian went forward and tied them on properly. Then Julian noticed the gaff outhaul was loose and he fixed it.

Turning head to wind again Julian tried raising the sail. For some reason, probably tiredness, he did not make off the peak halyard properly while tensioning the luff, and the gaff dropped down the sail. I heard a rip, and saw a small triangular tear in the sail, made by the out-haul tensioning bar.

Once the sail was up we had a lovely run up the coast to Peel in bright sun shine, the only downer being the persistent swell. We could see a dredger empting its hold just outside Peel harbour. It went forward, backward, and round in circles before heading back into the harbour to work again.

Peel Castle from the Sea

I asked Julian to check the marina call up channel, and he called up to say that we were supposed to call an hour before arrival. As we were about to round the breakwater we were more than a little late calling! The harbour master was good though, and told us that he could call us back once he had seen some boats out of the harbour. It was 12:20, and the flap gate had just opened.

Julian got the main down and as we circled round in the outer harbour, avoiding the dredger, the waiting buoy, and the shallows. There was no way we were leaving the shelter of the breakwater, flat water was very welcome after 24 hours of swell.

Five boats came out, then we were called in. The harbour master was waiting by the open bridge to tell us where to moor, and we were safely tied up by 12:50. Once Robinetta was tidied up, and Worm pulled onto the pontoon, we got the bedding out and went to sleep.