Visiting old haunts

We don't often post for days in port - its Robinetta's log. But today we visited on foot her home between 1946 and 1949. Audrey Parker's Once Round The Land ends with Robinetta arriving at her (new) own mooring in Castle Cove Portland so we wandered round there on foot. There are many moorings there administered by the Castle Cove Sailing Club and there were people there so we had a chat.

A smashing chap called Brian (I think) was the club historian - born in Castle Cove and the second secretary (the club was founded in 1921). But he didn't remember Robinetta or the Parkers. He phoned a friend and he didn't recall either so being Navy folk based at Fort Southwick they probably didn't interact strongly with the local community.

Later we were chatting with Rik and Celeste and a broad Cheshire accent asked from the quay whether Minx was wooden or one of the GRP ones taken from the mould of the William Priestley. Minx' owners were not about (we still haven't met them) but I'd read Minx' entry in the OGA boat register so I was able to confirm she was one of the William Priestley boats. The chap on the quay turned out to be an expert on nobbies and we had a lovely chat about the different surviving ones we knew about.

Then Rik and Celeste invited us to dinner on Cine Mara and we had a lovely evening,.

Unreliable forecasts and heavy weather

When I looked out at the surrounding yachts in the light for the first time, at 07:30, I was surprised by our position. We had definitely dragged the anchor and were now on the starboard side of a Westerly we had dropped anchor to port off... Luckily there had been no bad results.

What with the rolling and the wet weather we decided not to stay the day at Bray. This meant we needed to leave as soon as possible to avoid the tide trying to take us back to Jersey. The anchor might have dragged, but it did not want to come up now. I got most of the chain hauled in, a foot at a time, but could not shift the anchor. Julian came forward and used the purchase on the jib halyard to help. All of this was under the watchful eye of the couple on the Westerly. (I had asked them to keep watch in case we failed to notice we were getting too close). Rain started pounding down, and I was getting damp and cold.

Suddenly Robinetta came free. Julian stayed on the foredeck to finish raising the anchor and stow it, while I motored slowly away. I spotted a large Beneteau much closer to a Dutch yacht than it had been last night, in fact they looked about to collide. I headed towards the immanent disaster, yelling the boat names, and managed to get crew of both yachts on deck before any damage was done. I did not hang around to see what happened next as Robinetta had a tide to catch.

Robinetta made very slow progress away from Alderney. Julian did all the deck work to get her back in sailing trim while I helmed. Moving around warmed him up nicely, but I was getting steadily colder; when he finally settled in the cockpit for a rest I had to ask if he could do it while helming. I needed to go below and warm up. Luckily I was soon feeling better, and offered to make porridge, which was very welcome.

We were too late to make use of any favourable tide and we had to motor sail all morning. We let the set of the cross channel tide bring us far enough off the wind to use the sails, but since it was mostly northerly and we wanted to head north we were still very close hauled, not a good point of sail for a gaffer. We discussed changing plans, and heading for Cherbourg rather than Weymouth, but the French town was not that much closer, and we would still have to cross the channel later. We decided to stick with the plan, as the wind was supposed to go west and increase to force 4 in the afternoon once we closed with the English coast. We did decide to go onto a watch system though, 2 hours on and 2 hours off, so both of us had a chance for a good rest after the bad night.

By the time we were in the middle of the down channel shipping lane the rain clouds had cleared to leave a sunny day and the wind had picked up enough to sail. In fact soon after we turned the engine off we put in two reefs, although we still had both the no 2 jib and the stay sail flying. After lunch the wind fell again and we shook one reef out and put George to work. I retrieved a melon we had bought in Morlaix from the bilges, and sliced it up for a snack. The rind had got a little mouldy in places, but the flesh was beautifully sweet. We were running low on provisions though, not having been shopping since Tréguier.

After eating our melon we relaxed a bit too much, and before we noticed the swell had got up too much for George, so the tiller pilot mount broke AGAIN! I caught the Inshore Water's forecast for the evening. West, backing South West 5 or 6 decreasing 4 for a time, increasing 7 later. 6 would be a bit much, but we would be at Weymouth long before "later".

When I came up to helm at 17:10 I wanted a second reef, and 20 minutes later I needed the jib away and the final reef. Robinetta was heeling so much that water kept swirling over the gunwales. It is times like this that remind us that Robinetta actually has very little freeboard. The promised westerly had arrived with a vengeance. The sea state increased with the wind and I had an unhappy half hour on the helm, trying to hold the course into the waves. I needed the engine on to make any progress.
Julian had another look at the tides on the Weymouth approaches and decided we were better off going round the east end of the Shambles Bank. This was a big relief as it meant I could turn off the wind and have the waves on the stern quarter, not the bow.

Now wind, waves, and tide were more astern our speed rose dramatically. 5-7 knots, rather than 3. I could steer directly for Portland Bill, knowing the tide would sweep us past it. I relaxed on the helm again, no longer worried about the waves I had to steer though and able to feel the roll of the boat first and compensate after.

Julian took the helm at 19:30 and decided jib out, engine off. Looking at wind speed records later this was during a slight lull when the wind was 15 knots, gusting 22. 10 minutes later he reversed the decision. He saw speeds of over 8 knots and Robinetta stayed above 7 most of the time. Some of this was tide, but a lot came when coasting across the waves.

A lot of the time we had 26 knots, gusting 32, as recorded on the North East Breakwater of Portland Harbour. This is a top end force 6, gusting top end 7. Not something we would ever take Robinetta out in deliberately. I stayed on deck, and warned Julian when a big wave rose behind us. This let him steer down it rather than have it roll Robinetta too far over. We had to mostly steer across the waves though, or we would be carried off course away from Weymouth. I watched Worm swooping and twisting in the swell, heavier than normal with rain water from the previous night, and knew that if a wave broke into her we would have no real option other than to cut her loose. Luckily it did not happen.

It began to get dark, and we put on the running lights. It became easier to steer as the navigation lights of Portland Harbour gave Julian something to steer for, and eventually we were in smoother water. It was my turn on the helm again and we motor sailed across Weymouth bay, finally getting the sails down just before we entered the harbour,

We found a berth on the visitor pontoon across the river from the harbour office. It meant rafting 4 boats out, but had a nice easy boat to come along side that already had fenders out. Once we had set shore lines and moored Worm along side we got out the half bottle of wine left from the night before, and celebrated our safe arrival.

“This was a good day,” Julian decided. “We did what we meant to, and kept safe doing it.”
We had heard a lot of Pan Pan calls on the radio, including one from a larger yacht than Robinetta whose rudder broke. I was very glad our only gear failure was the tiller pilot fitting.

St Helier towards Alderney

The alarm went at 1 am, and Julian got dressed. I didn’t, waiting until I heard movement. Nobody stirred until 01:45 and when I stuck my head out an apologetic Frenchman said he had discovered there was no room inside, so they were staying put. I told him we intended to be off at 05:00, and asked him to excuse our feet on his deck, since most of our lines were made off on his cleats.
I woke at first light, wondered what time it was, and checked. 05:11! The alarm had failed. Julian was up instantly, and by the time I had my clothes on Robinetta was motoring away from the raft of boats. It turned out the skipper had been waiting since 5 to help us with the lines....

We zig-zaged slowly down towards the harbour mouth, preparing as we went, and by 05:30 we were clear of the inner harbour. We got the main sail up in the outer harbour then set off towards the Northwest Passage. A passenger ferry came in past us when we were only just clear of the outer harbour, but there was plenty of room.

The wind was almost directly on the nose, but we had the tide with us (the reason for leaving so early). This resulted in quite large overfalls, that we could not get through under engine alone, so we tacked, with engine on. I am not sure I approve of a buoyed entrance channel with such bad overfalls in it! We tried going inshore to avoid them, but the island has plenty of outlying rocks, so we had to keep tacking away, back into the overfalls.

Once we were past the Passage Rock cardinal we were clear of the overfalls, and could turn onto a better heading for sailing. The engine went off for a while, but came on again to help us power through the next set of overfalls, off La Corbiere lighhouse. We only needed it for a few minutes, then we had a lovely sail up the north coast of Jersey towards Sark.

The tide turned foul for us just after 10:00 and progress under sail became very slow There was no point arriving at the Alderney race until 15:00 as we would make no progress against it, but we had to put the engine on as the wind had also got very light. We tried using George, but the swell was too much for him after an hour, so we went back to hand steering. Luckily the wind also picked back up and we managed to sail our course in the afternoon.

Despite much searching of tidal diamonds on the chart plotter, which implied we would not get fair tide until 16:00, the CA almanack tidal stream diagrams proved reliable and we began to pick up speed at 15:00. We entered the Alderney Race exactly on time, and were suddenly being overhauled by a fleet of yachts coming from Guernsey and Sark and heading up channel; none of them followed us in our turn towards Bray.

There were overfalls building off Race Rock, but we got through them without trouble, although we were too early on the tide for the back eddy towards Bray, and the last 2 miles became a slog under motor to get to Bray. As we entered harbour 4 yachts appeared from the north, sailing/motoring through the overfalls at the end of the harbour wall.

We played “hunt the vacant mooring” with the other newly arrived boats, but in vain. All were taken.

We motored over to the anchorage and had a good look round. In the end it took three goes to get the anchor down and holding in a good spot. Not what we wanted at the end of a long day’s sail. It was Julian’s turn to drop the anchor and at the end he admitted he was too tired to go ashore, despite the convenient water taxi so we ate on board, our boat standby of chorizo and tomato sauce with pasta.

The anchorage did not feel very sheltered; all the boats, including those on moorings, were rolling in the swell. Julian and I decided not to get the bed out, but to sleep long ways in the bunks as it would be more comfortable. Even so I woke every hour. Worm kept knocking into us, and I wanted to check our position relative to the other anchored boats and make sure the anchor was holding. It began to drizzle at 1 a.m, and by 5 it was raining. Not a good night’s sleep by any means!

Light airs and Yachtsman’s Gales

Light airs and yachtsman’s gales is what we called our 2014 account of sailing up the east coasts of England and Scotland. It applied even better if possible to today.

We left Treguier late on the ebb and had a nice motor down the river. For once there was no fog and we got to enjoy the scenery.

We exchanged compliments with a big Guernsey registered Bermudan sloop as we left the river. They asked if we were going to Paimpol. They must have known about the traditional boat event there this coming weekend. We had pretty much abandoned the idea of going there - it leaves too little time to get to Cowes for the OGA55.

The weather did look a bit threatening but there was nothing bad in the forecast.

As we made our way out it got rather nice.

Now we had to decide where we were going. It was either the Isles de Brehat or the Channel Islands. The wind seemed fair so we set a course for Herm. We turned the engine off and set the No. 1 jib and all plain sail.

Then the wind dropped and we had to motor. The seas were calm so George the tiller pilot took over. After a while that seemed like a slog of a motor sail and Alison worked out that the winds and tides looked more favourable for Jersey. That looked good and was about the same distance, although it would mean a long trip to Alderney the next day. We changed course and were able to turn the engine off and sail.

Around noon the wind went light and we turned the engine on. After a while we started feeling rain drops. They were big and heavy but only one at a time. There had been no rain in the forecast.

Then the wind got up and we put a reef in. We were doing 5.7 knots on a broad reach.

Then the wind and rain came in hard. Sheets of it. Alison went below to get full oilies on. The wind blew the rain into my back so I didn’t get very wet even without salopettes and with my jacket open. We dropped the jib and reefed down hard.

Then it stopped and so did the wind. We shook the reefs out but still had to put the engine on. We motored on for a while in flat calm and sunshine.

We should have been able to see these fronts coming but the next one caught us too. Back in went the reefs and this time I untied the bottom hoop so we could reef more if we needed to.

We kept the reefs in until we were in the Western Passage to St. Helier - it was reasonably comfortable with the wind on the quarter but we saw a yacht bouncing towards us from St. Helier and realised we were in quite a sea!

We shook the reefs out and put the engine on once in the lee of the island. Even now, the seas were 'interesting' with some wind-over-tide. A couple of dolphins appeared through the waves and kept us company for a few minutes. These were bottle nosed dolphins, and did not play around the bow (I think Robinetta is too small for their entertainment) but it was still nice t get a visit.

We knew our way into St. Helier having been there in 2015 on Ariel of Hamble so we made our way to the waiting pontoon where we rafted outside a small French boat that had sailed from St. Malo. We chatted with young lad with excellent English - they had had a wild ride too and had not expected it.

We got secured and went ashore for fish and chips. A good end to an excellent day.

We had done 55 nm in 13 hours with the engine on for only 5 hours. I don’t think I’ve ever changed sail configuration so frequently. Apart from changing jibs all the reefs were put in and let out from the cockpit. Robinetta is good for that!

Fog and slow progress, Morlaix to Treguier

One of the reasons for braving the fog to go to Morlaix on Friday was the highly recommended Saturday market. We had intended to have a good look around then lock out on the second lock opening at high water.

Morlaix lock at low water

The weather changed our minds. It was grey, and cool, and looked as though there would be more fog down river. We decided to have a good look round the market, then wander down the river to see it at low water, and just relax. Julian decided to have a digital detox day, and did not look at his phone, or turn on his computer all day.

Next morning there was bright sun at Morlaix, and we felt ready to leave. The first lock out was not until 10:58, but that was still earlier than we would have left yesterday, so not a problem. It gave us a chance to properly route plan our trip to Treguier, including all the windings of the river. Even if we made good speed all the way it would be dark before we got there. The pilot book said it was well marked with lighted buoys and available at all states of the tide, so we knew there should not be a problem. We set off down the river in the company of another 3 yachts, carefully following our in bound track as there was less water now than then.

Patchy fog

We reached the river bend where we had left the fog behind two days before, and it was there again. Just as thick and clammy. This was NOT what we had wanted! Luckily we had our in bound track, and route planned out. Other boats were the problem! White boats and white fog are not a good combination.

The fog was patchy once we were in the Bay of Morlaix, then finally gone in the Bay of Lannion. Looking across at Roscoff showed it still shrouded in fog, but every now and then the Ile de Batz was clear.

We had the tide against us, and the wind from dead ahead. From a force 2 it rose to a force 5, and we changed down to the no 2 jib, and 2 reefs in the main. Even so we were motor sailing to try to sail closer to the wind. There was no point just using the engine to power though as heading directly into the waves slowed us hugely. At one time our time of arrival went to 03:15 rather than the midnight we had hoped. This did give us plenty of time to admire our surroundings!

Cote de Granit Rose

We planed an alternative stop, anchoring at the Ile de Gildas near Port Blanc, but by the time we reached where we would change course to head inshore the wind had died to nothing, and the tide was with us. Arrival at Treguier was down to half past Midnight, and we decided to carry on since the sea was now calm enough for George to helm.

The sun set as we passed Ile de Gildas, and by the time we rounded Pointe du Chateau we were in darkness. We could see the Ile de Brehat lighthouse, with its 4 flashes, fireworks in the sky near Pleubian, and a host of lights in the bay ahead. Most were red, or cardinal flashing white; the greens were a lot less obvious.

Following a chart plotter course, with lighted buoys to check positions, is not too difficult, especially once we were in the bay and in totally flat water. It does take concentration though, and although I noticed the stars overhead I could not spare them much attention.

Once we entered the river we had to work even harder. The moon was not up, so there was very little light, and a lot of moored boats, although they were clear of the buoyed channel. We finally reached Treguier at half past midnight, wondering what we would find. It was nearly slack water at high water on a neap tide, so as relaxed as it gets on a tidal river. And there were spaces, lots of spaces, on the finger berths.

We went into the first berth we found, pointing down river in the last of the flood tide, tied Robinetta and Worm up securely, and went to bed. It had been a long day.

The lack of boats was partially explained next day by the harbour master, who thought the weather was so good people were anchoring in the river instead. Yachts that came in throughout the day had another suggestion. There was still fog at Roscoff, and in the Chenal du Four, so few people were moving east.

Small boat on a big pontoon

Towards Morlaix in the fog

Neither of us wanted to stay in Roscoff for more than two nights. It felt very expensive compared to the other marinas, and we did not feel especially well looked after. Julian wanted to go to Morlaix, and did some careful passage planning to allow us to lock in to the wet basin at the top of the drying river. It meant an early start, getting away from the berth by 07:30 at the latest, so I set the alarm for 06:30.

When the alarm went I looked out of the cabin, and my heart sank. Fog. Thick fog, making it hard to see the masts of the boats on the next pontoon over. We got up much more slowly than we had expected, but still prepared Robinetta for the trip, hoping the fog would thin. At 7:30 Julian thought it had, and suggested we go. We had the radar reflector rigged, the AIS transponder working with it’s aerial up the mast, and the running lights on. We could also hear a fog horn. We knew that there would be a ferry coming in to Roscoff, and discharging passengers at 08:00, and I suspected this was it.

We came off the pontoon and set off towards the marina exit, but as I had feared the lights were red, forbidding movement. We station kept for the next ten minutes, waiting for the ferry to finish docking, then set off out of the harbour as soon as the lights allowed.

The fog stayed thick. Very thick, and only the course programmed into the chart plotter told me where to steer. There was very little wind, but we got the main sail up and bent on the no 1 jib. Putting the engine into neutral dropped the speed so much that we would miss the lock in, so the jib was furled away and we carried on under engine.

At about nine Julian pointed out that he could see the sun through the fog, and there was some blue sky overhead. We began to be able to see occasional small leisure fishing boats; white shapes in the white fog. The blue sky stayed, but fog blanketed the sun again. The area is well buoyed, but we had less than 1 cable visibility most of the way.

We threaded our way though the rocky islands, at high zoom on the chart plotter, keeping a careful eye out for crab pot markers. We passed an oddly regular looking island, taller than most, and realised that this must be Château du Taureau. We could see no details, just a shape in the mist. We were not the only boat moving in the area, but it was hard to know how many other idiots were out with us!

As we got to Locquenole, where Le Dourduff river separates from the Morlaix river I almost went the wrong way, despite the chart plotter, as I tried to follow a local boat through some moorings. I could see a bridge ahead, and wondered about its air draft, but Julian promised there were no problems, looked at the chart plotter, and told me to head to starboard, and up the other branch of the river.

My little excursion did mean I was clear of the channel when the Morlaix ferry came speeding past, which was not a bad thing. I put Robinetta’s engine in high revs, to try and follow the ferry for as long as possible, but it was out of sight in less than 5 minutes. It had made the direction to go obvious though, and then there was a line of moored boats that defined the channel on both sides. I could see red and green buoys mixed among them, then I could see the shore line, on both sides, and suddenly we were out of the fog, heading up a river in bright sunshine.

The transformation was startling.

The Morlaix river above Locquenole is beautiful, threading though attractive countryside, with clear bouyage. We passed a line of scum on the water, that obviously marked the place where the incoming tide met the outgoing river flow. It was still an hour to high water, and the current was negligible.

The Morlaix lock came into view, with the ferry that had passed us on the way up just leaving its dock to set off down river again. Between us was a slalom course of red and green buoys in quite a narrow channel. We crossed tracks without incident, but with judicious use of the throttle to slow down.

There was no sign of the lock moving, but a local boat was moored up against a wall, obviously waiting. The wall was well set up, with heavy chains to put lines round as temporary moorings. They were placed for bigger boats than Robinetta, and we had to go round twice to get our lines right.

The lock opened only five minutes after we moored, and we went in with four other boats. It is a big lock, and could easily fit in three times the number. The harbour master is a lovely guy. He helped us moor up in the lock (on ropes set vertically so there is no need to keep adjusting the lines) and gave me a mooring plan, marked with exactly the spot he wanted Robinetta to go. When we reached it he was there to make sure we did not miss it, and he helped take our lines. Real service!

Once Robinetta and Worm were secure we walked into town for an early lunch (not having had breakfast) then had a great walk round the place. The views from the viaduct are amazing and I am very glad we braved the fog to get here.

Paluden to Roscoff

We spent the morning on the boat doing maintenance and blogging. It was another lovely day.

I fitted the new engine cut-off control cable. It is thicker than the old one and both ends needed adapting.

At the engine end the new cable doesn’t fit in the fork on the engine designed to keep the outer sheath still. I cut a piece of plywood with a narrow slit on one side and a wide one on the other and used a piece cut off the old cable to secure it to the fork and then fitted the new cable in the wide slot. It stands off but the angle to the shut-off lever seems ok although it looks tight in the photo.

At the cockpit end I was worried that the larger handle would foul the throttle control. but in the end it fitted in the same place as the old one. The old cable was secured to the wooden panel that holds the throttle cable with a piece of bent aluminium with two counter-sunk screws on one angle and a hole for the cable on the other. The hole was big enough for the new cable but the new cable can’t be threaded through so I had to saw through to the hole and turn it into a slot.

So now we can turn the engine off from the cockpit again!

The accessories panel with a volt-meter, car charger socket and twin USBs hasn’t been working since we got back to the boat. I traced the fault to a broken gel-crimp in Alison’s locker. I hadn’t put enough cable management on it and it was being chafed. I re-made the joint and taped it up out of the way. Now we can charge Alison’s laptop and USB stuff more easily. I still need to upgrade that cable - the voltage drop is too high but I’ll leave that until the winter.

We dropped off the buoy about 12:15 and motored down the river, hoisting sails as we passed the marina.

I’d set the course through the Malouine channel which passes near to large rocks on both sides which the swell was breaking on spectacularly. It saves about 4 nm and the tide flows out through it so we got some ebb in the right direction. The rocks protected us from the swell so it looked daunting but was very safe.

There was wind to sail but we needed to keep the speed up so we motor sailed until about 16:00 when the tide started helping. We got 75 minutes of pure sailing before the wind got too light and we just motored with the tide. There were quite a few boats  heading towards Roscoff by now.

The tie-wrap on the stay-sail traveller failed and I replaced it but I cut the tie-wrap too short and an hour later it failed again. The tie-wrap hadn’t broken, just slipped through. I went forward again to fix it and while I was sitting on the foredeck the stay-sail flipped over and took my hat with it. We saw it floating past and sinking - no time to go back and get it. Then I realised my hat had dragged my glasses with it. Luckily, for once I’ve brought an old pair of distance glasses as a spare. The lost ones were only a year old and expensive thin plastic varifocals. Darn.

The Ile de Batz sits just north of Roscoff and a well marked winding channel leads south of it. The chart shows strong tides in parts of the channel which is why we were keen to go through on the flood. Our timing was spot on and we had loads of water and no strong currents. We were passed by a big gaff-rigged fishing boat from Paimpol also returning from Douarnenez with all sails up but motoring. Just like us!

We radio-ed Roscoff Marina and they told us to moor on D pontoon. There was no space on the north side but we found a space on the south side. Right opposite Gwenili. We took the last of my bottle of Talisker over there for a chat. Martin has been here for a couple of days waiting for crew. He has an old friend and two additional people joining by ferry in the morning.

Today’s sailing against the tide was much nicer than yesterdays. Sailing boats need wind.