[view profile] farmer boy
Well, I made it to Holyhead on the island of Anglesey (North Wales) so I
guess my first trip was a success (ish!) I have spent countless hours
working on the damn yacht and I still did not feel ready to go but go I
did! The evening before I tried out the outboard motor - vital in case
of an engine failure whilst negotiating the terrors of the River Mersey
- and needless to say, it would not run properly. It started ok and ran
at tickover but refused point blank to do anything else. Bugger it - it
is too late now so I shall just have to trust to my mechanical expertise
and Mr Volvo's main engine (a decision I was to later regret!)
.......thinks - I had better just do one final check on the venerable
Volvo MD6 diesel - and yes you have guessed it - it would not start!
Again - bugger! It was getting late and I was somewhat fed up with the
whole damn thing so up came the cockpit floor and I viewed the antique
engine and its related "gubbins" with disdain. What the hell was wrong
now? I did the usual checks of the fuel system and could find nothing
wrong - give it another try.... the dynastart (now part of ancient
history - a combined starter come generator) whizzed the engine over at
a fine pace and I dropped the de-compression lever and.... nothing - not
a peep... oh gloom! To cut a long story short I eventually discovered
that the fuel cut off was not working - or rather it was working too
well. Even though the handle was fully depressed it had not actuated
the "turn the fuel back on" lever and hence no fuel and hence no
engine... WD40 (and a bit of fiddling) to the rescue and it started
fine. Fuel really does help when attempting to start a diesel engine.
It was dark by this stage so off home to pack a bag and make some
butties for the next day.My exit to the sea! (well, the River Mersey actually)....
[lock gates at fiddlers ferry]
Neil (experienced sailor - my insurance policy!) arrived bang on time
and my long suffering wife drove us to the canal where the yacht was
moored. The weather was glorious and the engine ran fine - so far so
good. Just the lock gates and the Mersey to tackle now..... Locking
out was no joke and eventually we descended to "river level" and were
presented with a scene from an apocalypse movie.... the tide was still
coming in and bringing with it a wide variety of detritus including old
tree stumps, logs, old oil barrels and God knows what else - all
whizzing past us at a great rate of knots on its way upstream before
making the return journey back to Liverpool. Some of this stuff has
probably been going up and down the Mersey for decades.More waypoints than you can shake a stick at!
[route out of mersey]
It's now or never - full chat on the engine and a quick wiggle to clear
the mud bank and then into the flood! I turned the yacht into the tide
and tried to dodge all the rubbish that was attacking us as we clawed
our way forward..slowly we picked up speed and the engine began to push
us forward... hmmmm - looking good! This old engine of Mr Volvo was
doing very well and my re-furbished "variable pitch " prop was doing
what is should do - yippee!
A bit of a challenge getting out of the River Mersey... not much room
for error and only on a spring tide!
The image above shows some of the GPS waypoints.... boy was I
concentrating!
Another yacht was following us and Neil noticed that they were not
making much progress against the tide and I suggested we might see if
they needed help - "First up best dressed" was the reply and he was
right - if we had turned around we would never had made it to the end of
the river in time! I found out later that they had a problem with
rubbish stuck to the keel and they had to return... we, however,
thundered on with Mr Volvo pounding away and I was delighted at the
headway we were making and we eventually passed under the Runcon/Widnes
bridge on our way to the sea. The tide eventually turned and spat us
out into the Mersey estuary after a fair bit of rough water by Liverpool
docks but we had made it!
Neil - you can tell it is June by the clothing!
[Nice day for it...]
Time to head west and raise the sails. It sailed like a dream (well
Neil said it was ok!) and the new sails pulled well and we were bumbling
along merrily making tea and generally feeling pleased with ourselves.
As the evening arrived the wind departed so we started the engine which
ran as sweet as a nut until...... it lost power and would only run at
about half throttle which gave us 1 or maybe 2 knots. It was going to
be a long trip! The massive rocks of the Great Orme loomed down on us
and thoughts of shipwreck haunted me. The tide played with us, the
engine was just about useless and the wind had deserted us completely.
Please keep going Mr Volvo!
Self portrait..
[Self portrait...]
Self portrait...
Neil calmly offered advice and watched the world float by....
Time for another brew - oh dear what is that black stain spreading over
the cabin floor? Time to rename her the "Torrey Canyon" - oil
everywhere! Half a kitchen roll later I had mopped it all up and filled
a bin bag with sodden oily paper towels. Engine cover removed and I
discovered a small lake of oil under the engine - more mopping up and
thoughts of an impending disaster flashed through my befuddled brain. I
cleaned up the oil and tried to locate the source of the leak to no
avail - the engine was still running and I was loath to stop it in case
we lost what meager motive power it was providing. What to do? Neil
tried his little outboard but it would not run - I wonder why people buy
outboards - they never seem to work when needed?
Neil calmly offered advice and watched the world float by....
No more oil seemed to be leaking so I decided to keep the engine running
and hope it would keep us away from the rocky shore long enough to get
us to a safe anchorage. We wracked our brains for a plan B but there
was nowhere to go and the tide decided where we went and how fast. A
valuable lesson - I hate tides! Then, as I was just about convinced we
would make it, I noticed a gentle red glow from the instrument panel....
hmmm how pretty - shit, its the engine oil light - oh efin Nora what
now.....
Another athletic leap into the cabin and a speedy and deft removal of
the engine cover revealed nothing obviously untoward so I let the engine
run.... in fact I prayed it would not stop! It was the only thing
between us, a rock and a hard place. Logic told me to put some oil in
the engine - yes - that is the best course of action. Well it was
easier said than done. Just finding the oil was a nightmare and the
funnel had taken its annual vacation and was nowhere to be found so.....
oil filler open, torch in teeth and 5 L container of oil perched ready
to pour.... wait for it.... wait for it... now - shit oil all over
the place - never mind try again... well if you have ever tried it you
will know how hard it is to pour any liquid on a moving yacht. Needless
to say what followed was more mopping up of oil and probably (confirmed
later) a wildly overfilled engine. Bloody oil light went out though!
So we sat, drank tea, ate biscuits and watched the world disappear into
blackness... hmmmm - now we had virtually no drive, a leaky engine, a
non cooperative outboard, no wind, a semi cooperative tide, bloody great
big rocks everywhere and it was dark - shit......
Neil calmly offered advice and watched the world float by.... thank
God he was with me!
Eventually Puffin Island appeared out of the darkness like a huge
beached whale and we threaded our way (God bless GPS!) to a bay close
by. Neil steered and checked the depth as we neared the shore and I
crouched at the bows, anchor in hand, ready to fling it into the
blackness and pray. The sound of waves on a shore began to worry me and
I shouted "what is the efin depth here?" Neil said just a bit further
and eventually the depth meter said 10m and anchors away... phew.
Relief spread over me like warm treacle as Neil confirmed that the
anchor was holding and we were rewarded with a glorious firework display
(Queen's Jubilee) from somewhere on shore. I shut the engine down and
was convinced it shuddered and sighed with relief. It had been running
most of the day (it was now the early hours of the morning) after 15
years of laying idle. The huge puffs of soot black carbon ejected from
the exhaust during the day were also indications of an engine unused to
hard graft!
Anyway, we were here and time for bed. (I had already made and scoffed a
stew en-route - I will refrain from furnishing details of that culinary
delight and the fumbling about for utensils and ingredients - suffice to
say we ate it and Neil was non the wiser regarding the methodology!)
Anchor alarm was set (God bless the iPhone),final glass of wine slurped,
all electrical stuff turned off and sleeping bag laid out - ahhhh
bliss. Wait, what is that noise - a quick scoot around the kitchen and
various clicky clanky items are silenced as we rock and roll at
anchor...... back to bed. Hmmmm..... what the hell is that clacking
sound? "Wires slapping about in the mast" says Neil from the depths of
his sleeping bag as he drifts off to a deep slumber.
The incessant clacking drove me INSANE. I did not sleep a wink....
occasionally all would go quiet and the relief was immense only to be
followed by even more vigorous clacking. I have recorded the noise and
sent it to the Interrogation Dept at Guantanamo Bay - I am expecting a
thankyou note and a cheque in the post shortly. I lay awake and awaited
the dawn as Neil gently snored his way to morning. Jesus I hate yachts
- if I ever meet the previous owner of this heap of scrap I will give
him a piece of my mind - assuming I still have a mind come the morn!
Morning arrived (note - must get some curtains) as the clacking clocked
up it's half a millionths clack and I put the kettle on and started to
worry about the engine. I poked my head out of the door to check the
wind direction only to discover it had none - no wind, not even a
whisper - so why did we rock and roll all night? (answers on a postcard
please) We had to be at the "Skerries" by slack water so we had to make
good time..... unlikely without any wind - oh gloom! Nevertheless we
fired up the old Volvo and it provided about 50% of what it should to
get us under way at a snails pace to the top end of Anglesey. Lots of
sitting about on a yacht - more than I had thought. I never thought
making a coffee or unwrapping a chocolate biscuit would be an event -
but it was! The most insignificant sign of a breeze was a cause for
comment and major excitement, another yacht came into view and caused
great excitement and discussion...... I began to get a glimpse of what
passage making was all about - a bit like my flying career - intense
excitement and activity at either end separated by many hours of
nothingness!
Joy of joys the wind piped up and we bobbled along merrily towards the
rocks and wavy lines on the chart (The Skerries). I quizzed Neil about
the wavy lines and he informed me they indicated "troubled waters"
hmmm... interesting I thought - I wonder what is troubling them? We
reached a dark and dismal outcrop called Lynas point when the sea began
to boil and twirl in a frightening way... it reminded me of the scene
from Jason and the Argonauts as Odin (or was it Neptune?) rose from the
sea and pissed off all of the Argonauts. We did not see any sea gods
but I am sure there were a few right underneath us having a farting
competition.
We were to sail outside the Skerries and just as we got there the wind
decided to increase considerably and blow from where we wanted to go....
so we practised tacking and found most of the "troubled waters" as we
went and managed to keep the rail in the water most of the time and were
occasionally picked up and shook about so as to re-arrange the entire
contents of the yacht. Waves attacked us in a most viscous way and I
concluded that wavy lines on a chart are to be avoided in future.
Holyhead harbour slowly crept closer and we eventually entered the calm
of the bay and began to feel content with our efforts to conquer the
elements and those "troubled waters"
I began to feel very tired... very tired indeed ( I like my sleep!) but
we were soon at the harbour entrance as I brandished my brand new
handheld VHF radio to advise the marina of our intrepid voyage and
imminent arrival. I consulted my notes to confirm channel 37 and
confidently began to dial it in.... 28, 29, 30 .... 60 eh? Try again -
60, 30, 29, 28 ... eh? Where the hell is 37? Never mind, this is just
a cheap handheld, I shall fire up the beast in the cabin with it's
immense 25W of power and blow the marina staff's wig off. 28. 29, 30,
60? Oh shit what is going on here? Neil was sailing her ever closer to
the marina entrance as my tired and befuddle brain wrestled with the
problem - call on 16 advises Neil - which I calmly do in my best RAF
pilot radio voice only to be told that "this is Holyhead Coastguard -
try channel 37 for the marina" - I reply with gracious thanks deciding
it would be preferable to crash into the harbour wall than admit that my
brand new radio is so cheap it does not have a channel 37! I was
already composing the strongly worded letter to the muppet on Ebay that
sold me the damn thing - probably made in China and they put the wrong
chip in it... hmmmm... stop buggering about and ring them on the
mobile! iPhone was fired up and I searched for Holyhead Marina - oh my
God it was so slow....... we were very close to lots of stuff now -
yachts, moorings, walls when the number came up and I tapped it to make
the call - unobtainable - shit - a quick check and it was the long
"international" type so I scribbled the number on the deck and dialed
manually - success!
[Big mast...] Big mast...
The very nice lady gave me enough instructions to build a new marina
never mind find a single berth so I just said - tell me the berth number
and left it at that. In the meantime Neil (bless him) had taken down
the sails and was hanging fenders everywhere and arranging ropes and
stuff! Mr Volvo started fine and plodded away as if on a 3 day week and
took us into the marina. Well, we made a less than elegant arrival, but
as my old flying instructor used to say " any landing you walk away from
is a good landing"........... got home later that day. Wife rolled her
eyes, kids laughed and I slept for 24 hours. Going back on Monday to
fix all the stuff I broke. The ratio seems to be 99% fixing and 1%
sailing so far.... I hope things improve.Thanks to Neil for keeping me on the straight and narrow!
Biscay? - bring it on! (I think....)
Update.....
I have fixed the outboard now! It had a bit of crud in the float
chamber which was blocking the main jet - at least it is running for
now!
I have bought a load of primary filters and I shall be checking out the
Volvo fuel system (again!) tomorrow.......
I have been wrestling with a sewing machine all day and I have decided
not to add seamstress to my CV. I thought I would knock up a new sail
cover - how hard could it be? Well "VERY" is the answer... My efforts
are laughable - not a straight stitch anywhere to be seen and more birds
nests than in an aviary. The tension was impossible to get right and it
looks a bit of a mess. The material was a complete bitch to work with
and I could not get a straight line of stitching to save my life. It
will look fine from a distance - say.... a mile or two - but I am fed up
with it now so it will have to do. Give me a spanner any day!
update 2....
I have fitted a new fuel pump and changed the fuel filter and it now
runs fine, there was no gunge in the old fuel pump gauze filter but the
pump membrane looked as if it had seen better days - a magnificent 10 HP
is now available! Oh, and the oil was leaking from the fuel pump - it
was only attached finger tight with a couple of allen bolts!
Decided to change the engine oil and filter as well for good measure and
then had an hour or two of "mooring practice". The damn thing is
impossible to steer backwards despite my best efforts. When reverse is
selected the bow swings to the right and the stern to the left (a lot!).
When you do get it going backwards it has a mind of it's own and is
impossible to steer - I tried all sorts for ages but no success!
I have "sort of" discovered how to make a solo approach and landing but
only going forwards! How do others manage to get moored up at a pontoon
when solo?
I have also sorted out the AIS radar thing and that is now fine -it was
a bad aerial connection. It is great to be able to have all the details
of the various ships withing 25 miles! - some go very quick!
I have left the boat a complete mess and I am resolved to remove a lot
of the "stuff" from it.... there is simply not enough space for all the
"spares" etc that I have on board.
I will be going back for some more sailing practice soon and I will
hopefully be setting off south in about 3 weeks time.
Must test the Navik steering gear next time!
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
Well, I made it to Holyhead on the island of Anglesey (North Wales) so I
guess my first trip was a success (ish!) I have spent countless hours
working on the damn yacht and I still did not feel ready to go but go I
did! The evening before I tried out the outboard motor - vital in case
of an engine failure whilst negotiating the terrors of the River Mersey
- and needless to say, it would not run properly. It started ok and ran
at tickover but refused point blank to do anything else. Bugger it - it
is too late now so I shall just have to trust to my mechanical expertise
and Mr Volvo's main engine (a decision I was to later regret!)
.......thinks - I had better just do one final check on the venerable
Volvo MD6 diesel - and yes you have guessed it - it would not start!
Again - bugger! It was getting late and I was somewhat fed up with the
whole damn thing so up came the cockpit floor and I viewed the antique
engine and its related "gubbins" with disdain. What the hell was wrong
now? I did the usual checks of the fuel system and could find nothing
wrong - give it another try.... the dynastart (now part of ancient
history - a combined starter come generator) whizzed the engine over at
a fine pace and I dropped the de-compression lever and.... nothing - not
a peep... oh gloom! To cut a long story short I eventually discovered
that the fuel cut off was not working - or rather it was working too
well. Even though the handle was fully depressed it had not actuated
the "turn the fuel back on" lever and hence no fuel and hence no
engine... WD40 (and a bit of fiddling) to the rescue and it started
fine. Fuel really does help when attempting to start a diesel engine.
It was dark by this stage so off home to pack a bag and make some
butties for the next day.My exit to the sea! (well, the River Mersey actually)....
[lock gates at fiddlers ferry]
Neil (experienced sailor - my insurance policy!) arrived bang on time
and my long suffering wife drove us to the canal where the yacht was
moored. The weather was glorious and the engine ran fine - so far so
good. Just the lock gates and the Mersey to tackle now..... Locking
out was no joke and eventually we descended to "river level" and were
presented with a scene from an apocalypse movie.... the tide was still
coming in and bringing with it a wide variety of detritus including old
tree stumps, logs, old oil barrels and God knows what else - all
whizzing past us at a great rate of knots on its way upstream before
making the return journey back to Liverpool. Some of this stuff has
probably been going up and down the Mersey for decades.More waypoints than you can shake a stick at!
[route out of mersey]
It's now or never - full chat on the engine and a quick wiggle to clear
the mud bank and then into the flood! I turned the yacht into the tide
and tried to dodge all the rubbish that was attacking us as we clawed
our way forward..slowly we picked up speed and the engine began to push
us forward... hmmmm - looking good! This old engine of Mr Volvo was
doing very well and my re-furbished "variable pitch " prop was doing
what is should do - yippee!
A bit of a challenge getting out of the River Mersey... not much room
for error and only on a spring tide!
The image above shows some of the GPS waypoints.... boy was I
concentrating!
Another yacht was following us and Neil noticed that they were not
making much progress against the tide and I suggested we might see if
they needed help - "First up best dressed" was the reply and he was
right - if we had turned around we would never had made it to the end of
the river in time! I found out later that they had a problem with
rubbish stuck to the keel and they had to return... we, however,
thundered on with Mr Volvo pounding away and I was delighted at the
headway we were making and we eventually passed under the Runcon/Widnes
bridge on our way to the sea. The tide eventually turned and spat us
out into the Mersey estuary after a fair bit of rough water by Liverpool
docks but we had made it!
Neil - you can tell it is June by the clothing!
[Nice day for it...]
Time to head west and raise the sails. It sailed like a dream (well
Neil said it was ok!) and the new sails pulled well and we were bumbling
along merrily making tea and generally feeling pleased with ourselves.
As the evening arrived the wind departed so we started the engine which
ran as sweet as a nut until...... it lost power and would only run at
about half throttle which gave us 1 or maybe 2 knots. It was going to
be a long trip! The massive rocks of the Great Orme loomed down on us
and thoughts of shipwreck haunted me. The tide played with us, the
engine was just about useless and the wind had deserted us completely.
Please keep going Mr Volvo!
Self portrait..
[Self portrait...]
Self portrait...
Neil calmly offered advice and watched the world float by....
Time for another brew - oh dear what is that black stain spreading over
the cabin floor? Time to rename her the "Torrey Canyon" - oil
everywhere! Half a kitchen roll later I had mopped it all up and filled
a bin bag with sodden oily paper towels. Engine cover removed and I
discovered a small lake of oil under the engine - more mopping up and
thoughts of an impending disaster flashed through my befuddled brain. I
cleaned up the oil and tried to locate the source of the leak to no
avail - the engine was still running and I was loath to stop it in case
we lost what meager motive power it was providing. What to do? Neil
tried his little outboard but it would not run - I wonder why people buy
outboards - they never seem to work when needed?
Neil calmly offered advice and watched the world float by....
No more oil seemed to be leaking so I decided to keep the engine running
and hope it would keep us away from the rocky shore long enough to get
us to a safe anchorage. We wracked our brains for a plan B but there
was nowhere to go and the tide decided where we went and how fast. A
valuable lesson - I hate tides! Then, as I was just about convinced we
would make it, I noticed a gentle red glow from the instrument panel....
hmmm how pretty - shit, its the engine oil light - oh efin Nora what
now.....
Another athletic leap into the cabin and a speedy and deft removal of
the engine cover revealed nothing obviously untoward so I let the engine
run.... in fact I prayed it would not stop! It was the only thing
between us, a rock and a hard place. Logic told me to put some oil in
the engine - yes - that is the best course of action. Well it was
easier said than done. Just finding the oil was a nightmare and the
funnel had taken its annual vacation and was nowhere to be found so.....
oil filler open, torch in teeth and 5 L container of oil perched ready
to pour.... wait for it.... wait for it... now - shit oil all over
the place - never mind try again... well if you have ever tried it you
will know how hard it is to pour any liquid on a moving yacht. Needless
to say what followed was more mopping up of oil and probably (confirmed
later) a wildly overfilled engine. Bloody oil light went out though!
So we sat, drank tea, ate biscuits and watched the world disappear into
blackness... hmmmm - now we had virtually no drive, a leaky engine, a
non cooperative outboard, no wind, a semi cooperative tide, bloody great
big rocks everywhere and it was dark - shit......
Neil calmly offered advice and watched the world float by.... thank
God he was with me!
Eventually Puffin Island appeared out of the darkness like a huge
beached whale and we threaded our way (God bless GPS!) to a bay close
by. Neil steered and checked the depth as we neared the shore and I
crouched at the bows, anchor in hand, ready to fling it into the
blackness and pray. The sound of waves on a shore began to worry me and
I shouted "what is the efin depth here?" Neil said just a bit further
and eventually the depth meter said 10m and anchors away... phew.
Relief spread over me like warm treacle as Neil confirmed that the
anchor was holding and we were rewarded with a glorious firework display
(Queen's Jubilee) from somewhere on shore. I shut the engine down and
was convinced it shuddered and sighed with relief. It had been running
most of the day (it was now the early hours of the morning) after 15
years of laying idle. The huge puffs of soot black carbon ejected from
the exhaust during the day were also indications of an engine unused to
hard graft!
Anyway, we were here and time for bed. (I had already made and scoffed a
stew en-route - I will refrain from furnishing details of that culinary
delight and the fumbling about for utensils and ingredients - suffice to
say we ate it and Neil was non the wiser regarding the methodology!)
Anchor alarm was set (God bless the iPhone),final glass of wine slurped,
all electrical stuff turned off and sleeping bag laid out - ahhhh
bliss. Wait, what is that noise - a quick scoot around the kitchen and
various clicky clanky items are silenced as we rock and roll at
anchor...... back to bed. Hmmmm..... what the hell is that clacking
sound? "Wires slapping about in the mast" says Neil from the depths of
his sleeping bag as he drifts off to a deep slumber.
The incessant clacking drove me INSANE. I did not sleep a wink....
occasionally all would go quiet and the relief was immense only to be
followed by even more vigorous clacking. I have recorded the noise and
sent it to the Interrogation Dept at Guantanamo Bay - I am expecting a
thankyou note and a cheque in the post shortly. I lay awake and awaited
the dawn as Neil gently snored his way to morning. Jesus I hate yachts
- if I ever meet the previous owner of this heap of scrap I will give
him a piece of my mind - assuming I still have a mind come the morn!
Morning arrived (note - must get some curtains) as the clacking clocked
up it's half a millionths clack and I put the kettle on and started to
worry about the engine. I poked my head out of the door to check the
wind direction only to discover it had none - no wind, not even a
whisper - so why did we rock and roll all night? (answers on a postcard
please) We had to be at the "Skerries" by slack water so we had to make
good time..... unlikely without any wind - oh gloom! Nevertheless we
fired up the old Volvo and it provided about 50% of what it should to
get us under way at a snails pace to the top end of Anglesey. Lots of
sitting about on a yacht - more than I had thought. I never thought
making a coffee or unwrapping a chocolate biscuit would be an event -
but it was! The most insignificant sign of a breeze was a cause for
comment and major excitement, another yacht came into view and caused
great excitement and discussion...... I began to get a glimpse of what
passage making was all about - a bit like my flying career - intense
excitement and activity at either end separated by many hours of
nothingness!
Joy of joys the wind piped up and we bobbled along merrily towards the
rocks and wavy lines on the chart (The Skerries). I quizzed Neil about
the wavy lines and he informed me they indicated "troubled waters"
hmmm... interesting I thought - I wonder what is troubling them? We
reached a dark and dismal outcrop called Lynas point when the sea began
to boil and twirl in a frightening way... it reminded me of the scene
from Jason and the Argonauts as Odin (or was it Neptune?) rose from the
sea and pissed off all of the Argonauts. We did not see any sea gods
but I am sure there were a few right underneath us having a farting
competition.
We were to sail outside the Skerries and just as we got there the wind
decided to increase considerably and blow from where we wanted to go....
so we practised tacking and found most of the "troubled waters" as we
went and managed to keep the rail in the water most of the time and were
occasionally picked up and shook about so as to re-arrange the entire
contents of the yacht. Waves attacked us in a most viscous way and I
concluded that wavy lines on a chart are to be avoided in future.
Holyhead harbour slowly crept closer and we eventually entered the calm
of the bay and began to feel content with our efforts to conquer the
elements and those "troubled waters"
I began to feel very tired... very tired indeed ( I like my sleep!) but
we were soon at the harbour entrance as I brandished my brand new
handheld VHF radio to advise the marina of our intrepid voyage and
imminent arrival. I consulted my notes to confirm channel 37 and
confidently began to dial it in.... 28, 29, 30 .... 60 eh? Try again -
60, 30, 29, 28 ... eh? Where the hell is 37? Never mind, this is just
a cheap handheld, I shall fire up the beast in the cabin with it's
immense 25W of power and blow the marina staff's wig off. 28. 29, 30,
60? Oh shit what is going on here? Neil was sailing her ever closer to
the marina entrance as my tired and befuddle brain wrestled with the
problem - call on 16 advises Neil - which I calmly do in my best RAF
pilot radio voice only to be told that "this is Holyhead Coastguard -
try channel 37 for the marina" - I reply with gracious thanks deciding
it would be preferable to crash into the harbour wall than admit that my
brand new radio is so cheap it does not have a channel 37! I was
already composing the strongly worded letter to the muppet on Ebay that
sold me the damn thing - probably made in China and they put the wrong
chip in it... hmmmm... stop buggering about and ring them on the
mobile! iPhone was fired up and I searched for Holyhead Marina - oh my
God it was so slow....... we were very close to lots of stuff now -
yachts, moorings, walls when the number came up and I tapped it to make
the call - unobtainable - shit - a quick check and it was the long
"international" type so I scribbled the number on the deck and dialed
manually - success!
[Big mast...] Big mast...
The very nice lady gave me enough instructions to build a new marina
never mind find a single berth so I just said - tell me the berth number
and left it at that. In the meantime Neil (bless him) had taken down
the sails and was hanging fenders everywhere and arranging ropes and
stuff! Mr Volvo started fine and plodded away as if on a 3 day week and
took us into the marina. Well, we made a less than elegant arrival, but
as my old flying instructor used to say " any landing you walk away from
is a good landing"........... got home later that day. Wife rolled her
eyes, kids laughed and I slept for 24 hours. Going back on Monday to
fix all the stuff I broke. The ratio seems to be 99% fixing and 1%
sailing so far.... I hope things improve.Thanks to Neil for keeping me on the straight and narrow!
Biscay? - bring it on! (I think....)
Update.....
I have fixed the outboard now! It had a bit of crud in the float
chamber which was blocking the main jet - at least it is running for
now!
I have bought a load of primary filters and I shall be checking out the
Volvo fuel system (again!) tomorrow.......
I have been wrestling with a sewing machine all day and I have decided
not to add seamstress to my CV. I thought I would knock up a new sail
cover - how hard could it be? Well "VERY" is the answer... My efforts
are laughable - not a straight stitch anywhere to be seen and more birds
nests than in an aviary. The tension was impossible to get right and it
looks a bit of a mess. The material was a complete bitch to work with
and I could not get a straight line of stitching to save my life. It
will look fine from a distance - say.... a mile or two - but I am fed up
with it now so it will have to do. Give me a spanner any day!
update 2....
I have fitted a new fuel pump and changed the fuel filter and it now
runs fine, there was no gunge in the old fuel pump gauze filter but the
pump membrane looked as if it had seen better days - a magnificent 10 HP
is now available! Oh, and the oil was leaking from the fuel pump - it
was only attached finger tight with a couple of allen bolts!
Decided to change the engine oil and filter as well for good measure and
then had an hour or two of "mooring practice". The damn thing is
impossible to steer backwards despite my best efforts. When reverse is
selected the bow swings to the right and the stern to the left (a lot!).
When you do get it going backwards it has a mind of it's own and is
impossible to steer - I tried all sorts for ages but no success!
I have "sort of" discovered how to make a solo approach and landing but
only going forwards! How do others manage to get moored up at a pontoon
when solo?
I have also sorted out the AIS radar thing and that is now fine -it was
a bad aerial connection. It is great to be able to have all the details
of the various ships withing 25 miles! - some go very quick!
I have left the boat a complete mess and I am resolved to remove a lot
of the "stuff" from it.... there is simply not enough space for all the
"spares" etc that I have on board.
I will be going back for some more sailing practice soon and I will
hopefully be setting off south in about 3 weeks time.
Must test the Navik steering gear next time!
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]