Showing posts with label Channel Islands. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Channel Islands. Show all posts

Wednesday, 2 September 2015

Brittany Ports and Anchorages 2015

When planning a cruise around Brittany, it’s imperative to have a good and up-to-date cruising guide. (An excellent internet resource for complimentary port information is JimB Sail (http://www.jimbsail.info/).   Things are tricky here, with some of the highest tides and strongest currents in Europe, and many ports and anchorages are nestled in a rocky, drying shoreline. 

Sunset over Houat Island to end mark the end of our 2015 cruise around Brittany.
Even with a good guide, I always have a few lingering doubts about how some ports function, so I decided to make a few notes about our 2015 experiences. This is by no means a complete list of ports or anchorages in the area but only the ones we visited this year. These are loosely organized from south to north from Vannes in the Morbihan Gulf up to the Channel Islands. 

Vannes – I have a love / hate relationship with Vannes.  It’s one of the few ports in the center of a charming medieval town and has excellent new port facilities.  After traveling up the Morbihan gulf and passing under the Kerino bridge (with limited openings) and through the ever-changing maze of buoys that route ship traffic around a tunnel construction area, you enter a narrow channel (2 meters deep but only if you stay in the center) that takes you into the main port area.  Visitors are usually directed to one of three pontoons near the port office.  The space is wide but actual dock space is limited and you can be sure to be rafted up.  If you have a shallow draft, you may be given a catway slip in the inner harbour north of the foot bridge, but for boats > 10 meters it’s very tight for manoeuvres.  Because the port is in the center of town, it can be noisy, especially on weekends when the surrounding bars and cafes overflow onto the port area.  The port area is also “the place to be” for local teens.  The visitors’ docks are not protected and anyone can “visit”.  Acts of vandalism are, sadly, not rare.  We’ve had bottles of beer chucked at the boat (while we were aboard) and had night visitors that tied small trash bags all over the rigging.  We were lucky that these were more annoying than damaging, but it’s still unacceptable and has never happened to us in any other port. This is the price you pay for being in a lively down town area with excellent shops and markets.     

Morbihan Gulf / Iles aux Moines – two floating pontoons for visitors with electricity and a water taxi service to / from island.  Excellent facilities (although showers always a tad chilly).  With the lifting keel we were able to use the interior pontoon, less crowded and more protected from wash and chop of passing ferries.

Haliguen – We used the visitor’s pontoon in the east basin.  Much less crowded with nice shower facilities close by, although a bit of a hike to the harbour master’s office if needed.  Port area a bit dead but the town of Quiberon is only a 15-20 minute walk away (or easy bike ride).  Nice coastal walks. 

Houat / Treach Salus Beach – This is one of our favourite spots in the Quiberon bay.  It’s always crowded in summer but there is almost always room for everyone.  (I counted 40 boats anchoring overnight while we were there).  The best protection from the westerly swell is on the northeast corner behind the Beg Salus rock, but you’ll need a shallow draft to take advantage of this.

Port Louis – excellent new facilities and charming town with good market streets.  Important to stay in the marked channel at entrance to port because of shallow mud banks on either side.

Lorient / Centre Ville – we avoided the center ville for a long time, choosing instead one of the 3 larger marinas in the bay (Port Louis, Locmiquelic, or Kernevel).  This time, we had a crew member to drop off in town and decided to give the Center Ville port a try.  Visitors are normally placed on the pontoons at the entrance of the port but catway slips are sometimes available if you ask for stays longer than one day.  The facilities are the best in Brittany, in the same league as Jersey or Guernsey.  The showers are huge, you can adjust the temperature of the water, and each stall has its own mirror and sink area.  The laundry facilities are new and reasonably priced, and (drumroll, please) there is a SAUNA.  They loan bikes, free of charge.  The town, while not particularly appealing, has a small pedestrian downtown shopping area that is quite nice. 

Groix Island / Port Tudy – crowded and narrow, but always worth the visit. 

Groix Island / St Nicolas – To be avoided on beautiful weekends (too crowded).  Gorgeous creek with high cliffs.  Enough space for 3 or 4 largish sailboats to anchor overnight.  Rocky and narrow, so choose anchorage and chain length accordingly.

Groix Island / Plage des Grands Sables – Beautiful anchorage for calm weather.  Good holding off one of the few convex beaches in Europe.

Glenan Archipelago / La Pie anchorage – The zone north of St Nicolas and Bananec islands and south of the isolated danger buoy “the Pie” is a lovely anchorage in southerly winds.  The eastern part of the bay is organized with closely-spaced mooring buoys (fee) but the western part between Brunec and St Nicolas is free for anchoring.  Good holding (but have seen people slip here if they don’t dig in their anchor with a little reverse throttle) and reasonably well protected from westerly swell.

St Marine – beware of strong tides running perpendicular to the marina even in low tidal coefficients !  Best to arrive at slack tide. Visitors on mooring buoys or pontoons, often rafted up.  Otherwise a beautiful spot.

St. Evette – a typical stop to wait for favourable currents to pass the Raz de Sein, so always crowded.  Visitor’s moorings available (although not clearly marked).  Otherwise anchor, but watch out for swell that wraps around the seawall.

Audierne – a good alternative to St Evrette if you’ve got the time and, preferably, a lifting keel to wade gently into the narrow drying channel.  The channel is reasonably well marked but you are encouraged to only enter or leave between 2 hours before / after high tide.  They don’t have much space for visiting boats > 10 meters (3 or 4 spots at best).  Best to call ahead.  The facilities are excellent and the town is small but pleasant.   

Camaret – Usually a necessary stop in between tides when sailing through the Raz de Sein and Chenal du Four.  The visitor’s berths are set up in a series of U-shaped pontoons and its always tricky to get into / out of, but there is always someone around to give a helping hand.  The Notic marina closer to town has about 10 slips and a drying pontoon that can fit about 5 boats (boats are almost always rafted up here).  Wherever you go in Camaret (Notic or Camaret marina) the shower facilities are THE WORST in Brittany.  A beautiful coastal trail (part of GR34) and nice beach.  Some good food shops and a large supermarket nearby.  

Brest / Port du Chateau – a good alternative to Camaret if you’ve got time to make the extra 7 miles down the bay.  The Port du Chateau is well placed in the center of town.  The visitor’s slips and pontoon are on the far right as you enter.  The town can’t be called charming but the main pedestrian streets and shops are nice and they have one of the best bookstores in Brittany (with a large English language section, too). 

Aber Wrac’h – This is another port that is often a necessary stop either coming across the Channel or waiting for the tide to go around the Chenal du Four around the tip of Brittany heading south.  Hint:  when you arrive, tell the port officer firmly that you would like a catway berth (also helps to tell them you’ll be staying for several days…you can always change your mind later). Otherwise you’ll be rafted up on the pontoons.  As this is a major hub, there are always very early / very late departures / arrivals, making rafting up a real headache.  The facilities are good and there are some good restaurants around the port area, but otherwise dead.  Often foggy.

Ile Batz – This was our first attempt at a full dry-out.  It was fun although not particularly practical for going ashore (sand / mud mix, not easy to walk in…). This is one of the few ports that still allows boats to anchor freely in the drying harbour, which means you need to choose your spot carefully to avoid hitting all the small fishing boats on moorings near the zone. You can go very close to the beach / ramp area, as the sand is hard and flat up to the beach zone.  Very foggy.

Roscoff / Bloscon  – A huge marina with fancy new facilities.  Can be entered in all tides but watch out for currents in the port itself.  There is a free shuttle that runs from the marina to the town (worth a visit).  The navette also makes a stop at the Casino.  This didn’t interest us until we learned that this did not refer to the actual Casino around the corner, but instead to a huge supermarket named Casino.  

Morlaix – difficult to reach but worth the trip.  At the southern end of the Morlaix bay, the channel into the Morlaix river is well marked.  You need at least 4 meters of tide before entering.  At half-tide, we squeezed through with the keel lifted up to 1.5 meters.  Don’t stray from the channel or you risk getting stuck in mud / clay that is very difficult to get out of.  To enter the port of Morlaix you have to pass through a lock.  Lock hours are 1 ½ hours before high tide, at high tide, and at 1 hour after high tide.  If you arrive before the lock is open, tie up to the stone wall on the right.  In the lock, there is no “traffic controller” even in high season and it’s chaotic trying to self-organize many different-sized boats into the lock.  Coming out of the lock, a port officer in a zodiac will indicate a slip or pontoon for you.  A new dock was added recently and there seems to be lots of space for visitors.  The shower / sanitary facilities are quite poor, but the town is absolutely lovely and well worth the effort.  In the Morlaix bay, we also anchored north of Ile Sterec waiting for the tide to rise before entering the channel.  It’s a nice anchorage but seems pretty exposed for all but calm weather.   

Trebeurden – Fixed sill at 2.10 meters drying.  Beautiful modern marina in a lovely setting with pink granite boulders, nice coastal hikes and large beach area.

Tregastel – a poor cousin to Ploumanac’h but easier to enter and leave.  7 visitor’s moorings, clearly identified and well spaced.  Nothing much to see in the town but a beautiful jumble of pink granite boulders and beautiful small beaches around.  Somewhat exposed to northerly winds.  12 Euros.

Ploumanac’h – voted most beautiful village of France 2015.  The entrance channel is narrow, rocky, and drying but well marked … breathtaking in several respects !  There is a visitor’s waiting buoy around channel marker 8.   We had intended to dry out in the harbour but it is no longer permitted.  All visitors must use the first line of mooring buoys (line A) and tie up bow and stern.  Best to judge the wind / current direction to choose your angle of attack since it’s quite narrow.  Although they say they can only accept boats less than 12m, the mooring balls are so widely spaced that they were impractical for use for our 11.34m boat.  You can tie up to the smaller intermediate floaters if needed.  Also best to tie up to the leeward side of the mooring line so that you aren’t pushed onto / over the line and buoys. Departure is much easier when you drift away from the line.  Needless to say, gorgeous area.  We didn’t try the facilities but they seem quite poor.  We noticed a lovely flat sandy spot with a few boats dried out just to the west of the channel.  Unfortunately we were in a low tidal coefficient and without a better chart of the area, I wasn’t sure we’d have enough water to get in / get out again.  35 Euros / night with no facilities, water, or electricity.  A bit steep, but still worth a visit.

Port Blanc – A welcomed deep-water mooring area accessible at any tide (rare in this area).  It is exposed to northerly winds, though.  There are 7 visitor’s buoys, clearly marked and widely spaced running parallel to the main channel.  The site is lovely.  But don’t be fooled: it’s not free.  A guy in a zodiac will come knock on your boat around 8:30 am to ask for 11 Euros.  Fair enough.

Treguier – River with strong currents at the marina.  Arrive at slack tide if possible.  Call as you arrive to be assigned a slip.  If no slips are available for docking nose-to-current, the port officers may ask you to wait on a pontoon until the current slacks or changes direction.  Beautiful cathedral and nice old town area. 

Lezardrieux – nice spot on the river, crappy port facilities, a few good food shops up the hill in town. 

Brehat – Even though we have a lifting keel and could, in theory, go into The Chamber mooring area, this zone is completely marked off with mooring buoys now and anchoring is forbidden.  The site is always full.  We learned that we could push further on into the zone and dry out just south of Ile Lavrec, but it’s not very practical for going ashore.  The easiest, no-stress option is to anchor off Plage Guerzido.  There are two yellow poles on either side of the entrance that mark the limit of the mooring zone (yellow floating balls in high season to mark swim area).  You can moor anywhere south of this zone.  We rowed ashore to the small beach on the west side of Guerzido and followed a small path that leads into town (about 15 minute walk).  Beautiful site, still free, and worth the visit.

Paimpol – an extremely narrow but well-marked channel with water depth that dries out 4 meters where you line up to enter the channel.  The lock operates from 2 ½ hours before and 2 ½ hours after high tide, more-or-less on demand (call ahead to know if the lock is open in the in-going direction).  There is a visitor’s dock with catway slips but that fills up fast.  The 2015 guide said that boats > 10m should go to basin No1 but we saw no evidence of this happening and were directed to a pontoon along the far wall of basin No 2.  The old town is lively and charming.

St Quay – Another one of the rare marinas with access at all tides.  Good facilities, lots of restaurants and ship chandlers in the port area, a very small town center about 15-20 minutes by foot and some nice coastal hiking trails.  Good beaches if you’ve got the weather for it.

Fort de La Latte -  Small cove, good-weather stop only.  Anchor at the foot of an imposing fort (open for visits).

St Cast – Entrance at all tides, excellent new facilities, very chic, coastal resort town.

St Malo / Les Sablons – Sill at 2 meters.  Large port with most disappointing facilities and services – you have to go to the local cafĂ© for internet, buying a loaf of bread requires advanced planning and a long hike into town, and there are very few options for food shopping in the area.  Lovely town area in St Servan, nice coastal walks, reasonably close to old town of St Malo. 

The Sound / Chausey – very busy and crowded.  It seems that there are fewer and fewer visitor’s buoys and it’s good to have a lifting keel.  We settled on the sand/mud with the keel up at 1.10 meters. The zone is organized into two parallel mooring lines where you tie up fore and aft.  Do yourself a favour (especially if you’ve got the keel up and are less manoeuvrable) :  grab the forward buoy facing the wind / current as if it’s the only buoy you are going to use.  Once you’ve got it, put the dinghy in the water and take your stern line out to the aft buoy.  (You’ll be using the dinghy to get to shore anyway.)  If you try to be fancy and pick up the back buoy first and then advance to the forward buoy, you’ll just make a huge mess of things.  There are bizarre currents in the sound that make such manoeuvres nearly impossible.  After hours of watching others tie up, the “forward-buoy-first” trick seems to be the only one that works without creating a spectacle.  The mooring is free and the island is beautiful (but crowded).  The Beauchamp pass running north / south along the archipelago is absolutely gorgeous at low tide.

St Helier / Jersey –  Sill that opens at 3 hours before and after high tide giving you 1.8 meters of clearance.  Nice waiting pontoons although crowded.  Visitor’s pontoons are large but expect to be rafted up at some point during your stay.  Very chic facilities.  The marina is in the heart of the town.  Food and fish markets daily at the halls, 10 minutes’ walk. 

St Aubin / Jersey – This is a lovely anchorage, nice broad flat sand, good protection near / behind St Aubin’s Fort if you can dry out and a short dinghy ride into the charming town of St Aubin.  We arrived too late to squeeze into an area for drying out but still had a good night moored out.

Sark – We spent two nights at anchor.  Derrible bay is gorgeous with good holding but not practical for going ashore.  Dixcart bay to the west is less attractive (but still very nice) with a beach area and coastal trail going into town.  People seemed surprised when we told them we had spent 2 nights at anchor in the area.  We were alone in Derrible and only had one or two companions in Dixcart.  Apparently this area is known for uncomfortable swell, but we weren’t particularly bothered. 


St Peter / Guernsey – Fixed sill at 4.2 meters drying.  There is a waiting pontoon at the entrance. Even if you’ve calculated that you have enough water to enter the harbour with your new lifting keel, you are supposed to wait to be escorted in and assigned a place.  We just barged right on in against some bewildering red lights and were met by a port officer in a zodiac telling us that everyone on the waiting pontoon was cursing us…but he let us slip through anyway and we got a good spot.  (Not recommending this technique, though).  Exiting is more straightforward.  The lights turn green where there is a 2 meters clearance above the sill.  We happily headed out with the keel down and heard a big metallic BONK as we crossed over the sill.  Just a little reminder that our draft is 2.25 meters, not 2 !  (The great thing about the lifting keel is that it just swings back and up when it encounters difficulties, so no harm done.)

Monday, 3 August 2015

Hunting and Gathering

One of the pleasures of sailing is fishing.  I have to admit that we are not very good at it yet judging by the fact that we only ever catch mackerel and I don’t like mackerel. 

Our latest fishing expedition was in the Chausey Islands, the only islands in the Channel to remain French. 

Mareda in Chausey Sound (click on photo for larger image)

Winding our way through the Beauchamp pass at low tide.

Grande Ile, Chausey

We fish with a long trolling line towed behind the boat that has 6 hooks on it festooned with a combination of shiny and feathery things that drive mackerel wild.  A little diving board that looks like a cuttlefish bone makes the line plunge down beneath the surface a few meters as it is towed along.  When you catch something, the board comes up to the surface to indicate that there is something heavier than itself on the line (fish, seaweed, trash bag)  The boat speed needs to be under 4 knots and you need to be around coastal areas where mackerel like to hang out.

Then there’s the disturbing bit: what to do once you actually catch something. 

Jack with mack
The first time I fished in Brittany from a sailboat, we were 6 crew members and we caught 5 mackerel on a trolling line.  The skipper gave everyone but me (the only woman) a fish to kill, and each proceeded to apply his own technique.  The skipper swore by his method of banging the fish between the eyes with the winch handle.  Another whipped out his sailing knife and began sawing away, a bit surprised that the knife didn’t slip effortlessly through the poor beast’s skull.  With much tsk-tsk-tsking, another pulled out his knife and explained that the preferred method was to plunge the knife vertically down between the eyes, severing the brain stem, not unlike the coup-de-grace in a bullfight.  With one hand grasping the fish and the other carefully positioning the knife, he looked around helplessly for a third hand to actually do the plunging.  After several attempts to do it himself and with absolutely no help from the wriggling fish, he resorted to the sawing method of his predecessor.  The fourth crew member, apparently influenced by the skipper’s winch handle trick, simply banged the head of the fish directly on the winch, reasoning that any hard-angled edge should do the trick.  The last crew member took a more passive approach and decided it was best to just let the fish suffocate in a bucket of warm seawater.  The carnage in the cockpit was truly spectacular, and when the furore died down and calm returned, we surveyed the scene with a mix of disgust and pride.  The results: two dead (decapitated), two stunned-but-still-twitching, and one in its final death throes, gasping hopelessly for oxygen. 

A quick survey of the most humane way to kill a fish indicates that you must first stun the fish and then bleed it rapidly by cutting the gills or cut off its head.  Stunning alone does not kill the fish, and sawing off its head while it still has all its wits about it is frowned upon.  And if I were you, I’d watch my back when sailing with those passive-aggressive types who go in for slow suffocation.

Jack filets mack.  (You notice it's always Jack doing the icky bits ?)
My octogenarian friend Michel has a different method that appeals to me for a number of reasons.  It’s both barbaric and efficient, relatively bloodless, requires no tools, and if you beam your best southern belle peaches-and-cream smile while you do it, nobody’s gonna mess with you the whole rest of the cruise.  This is specific for mackerel but can probably be applied to any fish with a relatively small head.  In a bucket of water, you grab the fish with one hand and with the other, you place your index and middle fingers in the gills from below.  Placing your thumb on the fish’s head between the eyes, you simply push down with the thumb, pull up with the fingers in the gills, and using a quick wrist action, twist the fish’s head back, snapping its spine and severing the spinal column with one rapid snap.  You can hear it crack and death seems to be more-or-less immediate.  Bonus points if you can giggle and say “so cute!” while you do it.

So now you have a properly dead mackerel.  But you still don’t like mackerel, do you?  Here’s my marinade recipe for mackerel sushi that’ll make it all go down happily (quantities are approximate…):

3 tablespoons soy sauce
1 tablespoon sweet soy sauce (teriyaki)
1 tablespoon sesame seed oil
1-2 teaspoons of wasabi paste
1 clove finely chopped or crushed garlic
1-2 teaspoons of fresh finely chopped ginger
Serve with sticky rice.  YUM !  (can’t even taste the mackerel now !)
        
And if hunting and fishing don’t appeal to you, “gathering” is nice, too.  These fellows found their way onto our plates straight from the fishmonger.



Sunday, 19 July 2015

Cruising the Dark Sky Country

While Jersey and Guernsey islands are rich in history and culture (you’ve all read the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society, right?), the memories of our short visit have been quickly reduced to scones with clotted cream and jam, carrot cake, fish and chips, cheddar cheese, swanky shops along winding pedestrian streets, bus tours, rugged coastlines and lush hilly farmland with some of the most beautiful cows you’ve ever seen producing some of the richest ice cream you’ve ever tasted, and tax-free diesel for the boat.  

Sad, really.  Because we’d visited the islands only 2 years ago, there wasn’t much of a sense of discovery. 

But this time around, armed with a swing keel boat, we spend 2 days anchored off Sark Island.  In the mid 1500s, the island was granted as a fief to a Jersey nobleman by Queen Elizabeth I with the condition that he manage to keep the island pirate-free.

Mareda anchored in Derrible Bay (click on the image to see the panorama).
What makes a great pirate hide-out?  Bad weather, difficult navigation, numerous coves for anchoring with narrow passages protected by hull-shredding rocks, high cliffs to provide look-outs and strategic outposts, fresh water, game (rabbits and pheasants abound) and the all-important caves to hide booty.  Sark, in other words.  

The new Sark pirates (tougher than we look...)
Mareda in Derrible Bay, Sark.
As we wandered around the island, we kept seeing signs saying "welcome to a Dark Sky Community."  Strange, I thought, to actually advertise to tourists that it's always grey here.  After digging a bit deeper, we discovered that this distinction is given to communities with no light pollution, allowing for great astronomy. When the cloud cover permits, that is.

Mareda (2nd from left) in Dixcart Bay.  Derrible is prettier, but Dixcart is easier to debark with the dinghy.

Mareda goes it alone for the night in Dixcart.  Who's afraid of a little swell?

The cliff path up from Dixcart Bay.
We spent two days in lovely anchorages with few neighbors.  Apparently, the anchorages here are well-known to be a bit rough (swells), but we found it to be more or less comfortable in Derrible and Dixcart Bays with winds from the West to Southwest.  Next up:  the Chausey Islands and then on to St Malo for Mareda's first 50 hour motor tune-up and rigging tune-up. 

Havre Gosslin, the other good mooring on the island (but not good for westerlies)

Good place to hide booty.  Location undisclosed.

Local fishermen.

Local horses.

The precipitous pass between Sark and Little Sark.

This is what they call the main port.  I'll anchor out, thanks.

Town with ubiquitous tractor.  They pride themselves on not having cars on the island, but the bloody tractors are everywhere.



   

Monday, 13 July 2015

One month out

We’ve now been sailing and living aboard Mareda for one month.  We’ve sailed slowly around southern and northern Brittany and are now island hopping our way around the Channel Islands.  Time for a review of how things are going.

One month of laundry at Lezardrieux.  Is it still Bling ??
Performance:  We’re thrilled with this boat !  Fast, stable, smooth, easy to handle.  The twin helms provide excellent visibility and the twin rudders give great control in the water.  You never feel like the boat is on the verge of rounding up into the wind.  With the keel fully down (2m25) we can sail into the wind at about 35 degrees.  I’ve lifted the keel fully (1m10) when sailing downwind and it seems to give us an additional 0.2 knots of speed.  With the hard chines, the boat heels over about 15 degrees and then glides along happily.  When the wind gusts, you can feel and hear the sails tense, but the boat doesn’t heel over much beyond its 15 degrees. 

Mareda in St Helier, Jersey, Channel Islands

Pat and Jacko in Jersey.
We’ve only had to reef three times so far. The first time, we had 20 knots with gusts to 25 on a close reach.  We rolled in the genoa about ½ and put one reef in the main and she did beautifully – smooth and stable.  The single winch system (used for both the mainsail and genoa sheets) is no problem.  You just have to plan ahead for gybes (but don’t you always? heh heh heh…)  It’s always reassuring to have the mainsail sheet close at hand.

The wide stern gives the boat a see-saw motion with swell from behind rather than a rolling corkscrew motion.  While the see-saw motion is more “rodeo” than with rolling, I’m convinced that it is less seasickness-inducing.  That corkscrew motion on round-end boats gets nauseating fast.  The motor is more powerful than we imagined.  With smooth seas, we can get 6 knots at 2000 rpms.  At full-throttle we can get almost 8 knots.  However, the combination of the sail-drive system, twin rudders, and a boat that sits high in the water means that port manoeuvres are a wee bit stressful, like trying to park a car in a tight spot on sheet ice.  I suppose we’ll get used to it.  For now, our strategy is to put out lots of fenders !

Glad to be in port when it blows in Jersey.

Deck:  It’s clear that this boat was designed by sailors.  The hand holds and foot braces are right where you need them, even for shorties like me (5’4” or 1m63).  The cockpit is deep enough to feel protected but easy to climb out of to go forward.  We LOVE LOVE LOVE the fold-down stern that allows us to get in and out of the dinghy so easily.  Coupled with the davit and pulley system that allows us to launch and recuperate the dinghy with ease, this boat is made for island-hopping.  The fresh water hot/cold shower on the stern deck is fabulous, too.  The twin helms leave the central stern area open, so no more climbing over or around the helm to get from stern to cockpit.  Bliss.  The solar panels are powerful !  During the day, we can orient the panels to take best advantage of the sun and the batteries stay fully loaded even with the frige and pilot working all day.  We recently spent 5 days at anchor and had absolutely no energy problems. Solar panels make more sense than a wind generator, since you try to anchor in areas not exposed to the wind.  For a long and grey crossing, panels may not be the best option but you can always run the motor.  Better to run the motor during a crossing than have to do it at anchor, no?

Hoisting the English flag for entry into the Channel Islands.
We continue to have problems with the genoa furler.  It’s much too hard to pull in.  Patrick can do it without the winch, but it takes all his force.  We slacked the genoa halyard a bit and that helped some, but not enough.  In calm conditions, I can roll in the genoa without the winch, but at sea with the sail flapping, I can’t budge it.  We’ve tried changing the angle of the furler line between the drum and the cockpit, but it’s still not easy.  We’ve called the dealer and asked to have someone look at this. 

Other problems:

1) a thumb-sized chunk of metal is missing from the genoa sheet traveler.  We don’t know when or how that happened.  We’ve contacted our dealer about that one, too. 



2) The top batten worked its way out of its gouset and tore the sail a bit around the batten pocket.  I fixed it with a temporary patch and tightened the screws but it will need to be fixed properly. 



3) When sailing close hauled into the wind with the mainsail sheet pulled in tight, the mainsheet downhaul rubs against the back of the dodger.  We didn’t notice this until we found a hole in the canvas.  We’ll patch that one temporarily, too, but that’s just bad design.  I suppose we’ll have to move the downhaul forward a few centimetres but I’d prefer to have the dealer do it.



4)  One of the latches of the swim platform broke.  The other one holds well and has a spectra cord and jammer to hold it in as well, so we’re not in danger of the platform opening unexpectedly.  Still, needs to be fixed.

Patrick and I disagree about the spray hood.  I like it, he doesn’t.  It’s big enough to stand under without having to bend down, there are large panels everywhere (even in the roof) to give you excellent visibility (including looking up through the roof panel to see the mainsail as you’re winching).  I was concerned in the beginning that the side panels didn’t extend a bit into the cockpit to offer protection to a crew member trying to get out of the wind, but the spray hood so high and wide that the wind passes over and creates a shadow zone on either side.  With the helm on autopilot, the watch keeper can shelter under the spray hood on either side or lean against the cockpit table with a 360 view of everything that’s going on.  If your ass is small enough you can even sit on the table with feet braced on the companion way.  Patrick thinks the spray hood is too high.  He wants it optimized to just pass over his head.  This would reduce windage and maybe make port manoeuvres a bit easier, but I think the advantages outweigh this problem. 

One complaint is the lack of organization of all the lines under the spray hood.  We tried to keep each line neatly coiled and ready for use, but they invariably ended up looking like a big pile of multi-colored spaghetti.  We bought some organizers (those hook-type things) to keep the mainsail sheet and genoa furling line out of the mess and so far that’s helped keep things a bit more manageable.         

The false teak decks (made of a wood called iroco) is lovely and comfortable for bare feet but a bit slippery.  This is getting better with time.  It was probably treated with something that is slowly washing off. 

Interior:  We’re in a 5 star hotel here.  It’s beautiful, functional and spacious (relatively speaking, of course). There is lots of storage space although getting to some of the lockers requires patience and yoga positions.  The forward cabin is a huge open storage space (read: unholy mess).  I don’t like that situation but there’s no good solution.  We’ll have guests soon so we’ll have to spend a ½ day relocating all the stuff that has accumulated there.  Patrick’s tv and stereo systems are impressive.  We’re having torrential rains today and there are no leaks!   No complaints and neither of us misses home at all. 

Overall score: two enthusiastic thumbs up !  I had my doubts and snobberies early on about buying a production boat, but for now, we can’t imagine a boat that would meet our wishes and needs any better than the SO 379.


Jersey Ice Cream: worth the trip !

Sunday, 25 August 2013

40 days and 40 nights

…and 800 miles of navigation later, it’s time to reflect on our first big cruising experience on Spray.


The 40 day trip:  out (red dots) and back (blue dots).

Trip Out (Red Dots) nautical miles
Trip Back (Blue Dots) nautical miles
Vannes
Er Gored         6 NM
Concarneau    59 NM
Camaret         65 NM
Aber Wrac’h   37 NM
Roscoff           28 NM
Morlaix            12 NM
Roscoff           12 NM
Tregieur          56 NM
Guernsey        58 NM
Jersey             28 NM

Jersey to St Malo 44 NM
Chausey         17 NM
St Cast            23 NM
Lezardrieux     40 NM
Perros-Gueric 46 NM (storm, rounded 7 islands)
Roscoff           26 NM
Aber Wrac’h   34 NM
Camaret         37 NM
St Hernot        20 NM
St Evette         27 NM
St Marine        34 NM
Glenans          11 NM
Port Louis       30 NM
Houat              29 NM
Vannes           20 NM



1.  Mileage and confidence building.  This cruise was a HUGE step forward for our confidence building in so many ways.  In an earlier blog I mentioned that we would be sailing within our comfort zone this summer, from the southern tip of Brittany to Royan (e.g., the least challenging contiguous coastline of France).  But a mere 2 weeks before heading off, a more experienced friend proposed that we follow him and his crew around northern Brittany and up to the Channel Islands.  This was an opportunity not to be missed.   

We had originally wanted to sail around northern Brittany by ourselves but when I mentioned it to another sailing friend, his reaction was, “What?  You want to sail in the most difficult region of Europe for your FIRST solo cruise?” to which I said, “North?  Did I say north?  No, no, no…my bad French again.  I meant south, of course.”  Needless to say, without a safety net to help us around the scary spots, we never would have tackled this alone.  The experience was made even richer when our friends left the Channel Islands to head home earlier than we wanted and we made our way home alone.  We enjoyed having friends around on the first half of the trip, but were also quite pleased to be “alone together” for the return trip.  (Note that the mileage in between the blue dots is a whole lot smaller than between the red dots !)  The importance of friends merits its own long blog post.  Thank you Daniel and Nelly !

2.  Experience living aboard.  Before we left, I was telling people we were heading off for 1-2 months.  Patrick told me to stop telling people that because he couldn’t really imagine that we would stay on the boat for more than a month without cracking up and heading home for a spell.  As we neared Vannes, neither of us was ready to come home, and the only reason we stopped (for 1 week) was because it seemed a bit silly not to drop in and check on the house when Vannes is on our route south.  Even though the space is somewhat limited on the boat, we have everything we need and are very comfortable.  The scenery changes every day and we love being on the move. 

3.  How to leave home.  I follow quite a few other blogs about live-aboard sailors, but I have yet to find one that describes people who sail, for example, 6-8 months out of the year and then return home when the weather gets rotten.  Leaving a house unattended for long periods is not so simple.  We have wonderful neighbours who keep an eye on things for us, but the yard is on its own.  Three years ago, I planted an “eco-grass mix” with micro-clover that is supposed to give you a lawn that never needs mowing, always stays green and never needs watering.  So far, I give it a 5 out of 10 for success.  Thanks to the wonderful hot and dry weather we’ve been having, the yard was in pretty good shape, although a bit toast-coloured in spots.  We did mow, but could have left it much longer before it got to be an eye-sore.  Four of 7 houseplants placed outside under a tree died, and will be replaced by the best plastic versions money can buy (within reason, of course.)  The weeds took over my decorative gravel terrace out front (e.g. where everyone can see it), so installing a new geo-textile tarp under the gravel will be on my “to do” list when we come home at the end of the sailing season.  (When is that, again ???)

4.  Weathering the storms.  We had a major educational event in the form of a surprise gale and two incidents of the motor dying on us.  Besides the obvious learning experiences those sorts of things provoke, Patrick and I had to learn to work together as a team during these stressful, quasi-emergency situations.  Our approaches are 50% complementary and 50% conflicting, but getting better.  In general, he thinks I’m an overly-cautious, anxiety-riddled maniac, and I think he’s a wilfully uninformed noodle-brain with his head in the clouds.  We’ll keep working on it…   During the storm, however, we were 100% in sync since there was not much we could do but reduce sail and hang on.  We gave each other “check-up” looks (Are we okay?) like children who fall down and look to their parents to know if they’re okay or if they should cry.  It was a good team-building exercise, to be sure, but it bears repeating:  I NEVER want to do that again.

5.  Making new friends.  For the first time, we met sailing couples where both members of the couple take an active role in the sailing and navigation.  In our sailing associations, most members are either skippers looking for crew or couples where one spouse is just along for the ride (and guess which spouse that invariably is?).  We sailed for a few days in tandem with another couple like ourselves and really enjoyed their company.  We had some great laughs exchanging “couples at sea” stories and agreed that RAISED VOICES is just part of any co-skippering program.  The important thing is to wipe the slate clean every single evening (that’s what pre-dinner drinks are for, right?).  We’ve kept in touch with them and hope we can meet up again soon.

6.  Identifing needs.  During this first long cruise on Spray, we’ve identified quite a few needs (okay, most of these are actually wants rather than needs, but still…).  From our gale adventure, we agreed we needed a smart-phone that would allow us to have internet access and thus weather information from multiple sources rather than being limited to the reports from Meteo France on the vhf radio broadcast 3 times per day.  On several occasions, our MaxSea software decided to shut down, so a 2nd computer with MaxSea (wrapped in plastic and stored away for emergency use only) will be on board next time.  We also realized that our on-board GPS system (Magellan 324 FX) only has the detailed electronic charts west of Perros-Gueric and down to Gijon, Spain.  I’m thinking it may be difficult to find these since the model is quite old now.  If we decide to do longer offshore passages, I want an IOR perch, which is basically a 1.8 meter tall floating flag pole that you throw in the water to mark the position of a man-overboard while you manoeuvre the boat to pick him up.  I also want a man-overboard rescue sling and an EPIRB, a small emergency position-indicating radio beacon (gps / satellite-powered).  On a more practical front, we also plan to re-install the black-water tank (e.g., sewer storage) on Spray.  The original one, in stainless steel, was removed by the previous owners because of a leak and never replaced.  All of the plumbing and valves are in place but we need to have a custom-made tank in plastic.  And last but not least, if we head south next year towards the Med, we’ll need some thick dark curtains to keep out the sun.  Our plexiglass portholes are so crackled that we don’t have problems with lookie-loos, but the sun does make the interior quite hot. 

In summary, the last 40 days at sea have saved our sailing project.  This winter was a very tough one for us, with endless repairs, bad weather, and lack of confidence in our own abilities and motivations.  We almost decided to give up on the sailing life.  We even posted an announcement to sell Spray and showed her to a prospective buyer (who was very interested.)  Now when we talk about selling Spray, it’s in order to buy a bigger boat that we could really live aboard for half the year or more.  Spray is a great boat, but she’s a bit too physical for us.  She’s a high-strung thoroughbred, but what we need is a draft horse.  With only 90 liters of water storage, 60 liters of diesel, and only 4 tonnes of weight to weather the storms, she’s not really adapted to a program of long-term vagabondage.  I hate to think about selling her so soon, and REALLY hate to think about all the work that would be involved in buying and refurbishing a new (used) boat.  But neither of us is getting any younger, either, and the clock is ticking !  Decision pending !  But not before another 40 days at sea.   

Next up:  The Route du Vin (the wine route), heading south to the Bordeaux wine country.

Saturday, 10 August 2013

England 1: France 0

On Monday 5 August, Meteo France predicted Southwest winds, force 4-5 with gusts (11-21 knots), veering west and calming to force 4 in the afternoon.  We were happy to finally have some wind after several days of calm and this looked like a good opportunity to make some distance.  Little did we know that the Jersey Coast Guard, a mere 40 miles away, had issued a gale warning (34-40 knots) for the same day.  Guess who was right? 

The interior after a gale.

I’ve seen many books on heavy weather sailing but never bought one.  Me: “I have no intention of sailing in rough weather.”  Yes.  Well.  Um.  I’ll take 2, please.

We left the river port of Lezardrieux with a strong current and light tail winds and averaged 7 knots over the 9 miles to open water using only the headsail.  When we turned west, the winds were stronger so we decided to hoist the main with a reef, just to be zen.  The euphoria of smooth sailing at 7 to 8 knots didn’t last long.  My log book looks like this:

9-10h:  1 reef + Genoa
10-12h:  2 reefs + ½ Genoa
12h30:  3 reefs + motor
 
Emergency 3rd reef job.


We’ve had “learn to install 3rd reef” on our TO DO list for quite some time now and we never seemed to get around to it.  Nothing like learning in extremis.  With 30 knots of sustained winds, gusts to 38 (true wind; 43 apparent wind) and 3-4 meter swells, this exercise was a wee bit challenging, but adrenaline can work wonders.  Because we were also close-hauled, we had difficulty maintaining our route and added a little motor power to try to stabilize things a bit.  And then we just gritted our teeth and bashed it out for not 1, not 2, but 4.5 hours.

Unfortunately in Northern Brittany, there are not a lot of ports that are accessible at any time of the tide.  As we were making such good headway earlier in the day, we decided to go around the “7 islands” and head to the next port down the coast, Trebeurden, rather than the closer one, Perros-Gueric, because the loch there didn’t open until  5pm.  The gale hit while we were just beginning to go behind the islands, and by the time we got to the other side and started heading back towards the coast, the tide was beginning to turn… and not in the good direction.  So we rounded the islands, put the current and wind on our bums and headed to Perros, making it there just in time for the loch.

At the worst of the bashing, our MaxSea navigation software died.  Fortunately, good old OpenCPN came to the rescue.  Our on-board GPS was only giving fixed-point data at that point since (as we discovered only recently) we don’t have the electronic charts east of Perros-Gueric.  As we weaved back and forth across the zone, we were playing peek-a-boo with our virtual selves, which is not so convenient for navigating in a gale around rocky areas you don’t know very well.

It was whilst swapping horror stories with other sailors in port that we learned that Jersey had issued a gale warning.  I called the Cross Corsen (coast guard equivalent for this zone) and informed them that conditions were 7 with gusts to 9 rather than the 4 with gusts to 5 that they were STILL predicting as we pulled into port.  They said they had indeed received a few calls about this… but of course, that’s Meteo France’s problem, not the coast guard’s.  A day later, with everyone still talking about the mystery gale, a port manager took the defense of Meteo France and proudly stated that Meteo France issued a gale warning later that evening.  No comment.
So what have we learned?

 I’ll never trust Meteo France again if I have any other choice of met service info.  I was told by local sailors that when Meteo France predicts Southwest winds for northern Brittany, watch out.  It’s apparently a very unstable situation and one they often get wrong.

 I’ll be buying a book on heavy weather sailing very soon.  I think we may have been better off with a storm sail up front rather than the 3rd reef in the main, but it’s not at all clear to me.

Always have 2 computers with navigation software on board.  This occurred to us earlier in the cruise but now we have more convincing evidence that it’s important.  The MaxSea problem was rapidly resolved with a call to the technical support service (had to reconstruct its links with the databases, but all seems well now).

My VION Meteo Concept weather station has a strong wind alarm.  I didn’t know this before.  But it scared the bejeezus out of me at first, and once I figured out where the alarm was coming from, I couldn’t turn it off.  It was not the right moment to read the instruction manual, so I just yanked the batteries out of it to stop the screaming.  It’s back to its normal self now with no apparent signs of damage.

We’re buying a smart-phone with 4G for internet connection and access to weather information without having to rely on Meteo France weather bulletins over the vhf radio.  I’m also hoping we can get one with a GPS and nautical charts as an additional back-up.

Patrick and I came through unscathed physically and the mental stress is diminishing with each passing day (except on days with southwest winds predicted).  No one was sick and I even managed to go down below to make ham sandwiches for lunch.  We both had to change clothes twice because we were soaked from packets of water hitting our faces and drizzling down the necks of our foul-weather gear.  It was exhausting.  This makes us wonder how we could have kept going for much longer without getting really worn down.  With only 2 people on board in that kind of situation, rest is simply not possible.  For shorter coastal hops, it’s okay … you will probably never have to tough it out longer than 5-10 hours.  But on longer passages?  We’ll definitely re-think the whole “extra-crew” issue now.

And last but not least, we’ve now learned how to properly install our 3rd reef.  It turns out that we had everything we needed.   1) Put a small pulley in the reef point on the leech of the sail.  2) Attach the reef line to the bracket on the boom with a bowline knot.  3)  Run the reef line up through the pulley on the sail and down the other side to a directional pulley fixed on the side of the boom.  4) Run the line down the boom to the cleat on the boom.   5)  Attach a small spectra cord through the luff side reef point and fasten it around the boom when the sail is taken in.  Much better !

Reef job: bracket with bowline and pulley in reef point 3


Reef job:  return pulley and cleat.


 
A good 3rd reef.