After concluding that I was trapped in this compound until Monday I had the last beer on board then cooked a spaghetti meal - my first since Brazil - with plenty of olive oil, tomato sauce, and Parmesan cheese. I then went to bed with the intention of getting up in 2 hours for a Sailmail session to publish the last blog of the passage, then sleep for the rest of the day and all night for maybe 15 hours. But that wasn't to be, and probably for the better.
I managed to get up for the Sailmail session because of the persistence of the chart plotter alarm then afterwards went back to bed as planned. But at 2.30 PM another alarm woke me up with the first of two crises. Fortunately I had left the instruments on and I was being warned of shallow water. Oh Great I thought, I could be bumping the ground for the next few hours. I quickly brought up that super marvelous WXTIDE32 program, set it for Cape Town, and saw immediately that we were at precisely the nadir of the tide cycle which was very good news. I also noticed that the depth was fluctuating between 2.4 and 2.9 meters, suggesting that there was a surge working on this corner of the harbor. By then the wind was howling with vicious gusts of 35 and 40 kts. I went topside to check the boat and found the second crisis. The wind was pressing the boat hard against the pontoon and the crucial fenders in the middle of the hull at the tumblehome had been squeezed up and out and the hull was directly against the pontoon. I didn't know how long this had been going on but had no doubt that there was big damage to the gelcoat. Fortunately during this cruise I have gotten better at not freaking out in a crisis, not so much out of lofty philosophical insight but more to protect my psyche. I thought 'Oh well, as long as there isn't too much damage to the fiberglass I can wait until I have the hull repainted in Fremantle.' I managed to squeeze the fenders back into position and lower down so that the curve of the hull would tend to push them down rather than up, and could not see any damage to the gelcoat. Later I ran my hand over the side of the pontoon and saw that it was not concrete as I had thought but rather like a fiberglass, and rather smooth at that. That smoothness coupled with the fact that the boat and pontoon were moving together must have provided the happy outcome. Before I was finished I had 7 fenders protecting that side of the boat.
While I was working on the boat I had noticed two young policemen washing their cars. I went over to them and explained the reason for my presence with an apology. Their attitude was 'Oh, you mean that boat? Yea, that's OK.' Later I asked them if they could let me out of the compound so that I could visit the RCYC about moving my boat. They explained that I could simply walk out and there was a call button when I wanted to be let back in. With that I visited the RCYC and spoke with the guard. The receptionist had just left and there was nobody else. Tomorrow, Monday, at 8 AM the club would be fully functioning again. This explains why nobody had answered my VHF calls - nobody was around because it was Sunday. That's fine and understandable, but from now on I will be very scrupulous about avoiding arrivals on a Sunday, regardless of what the web site states.
I returned to the boat satisfied that the authorities were likely to be understanding about my unauthorized presence and that I had a way forward to getting the boat move to the RCYC. Although there had been a foul up in my entry, at least I had made it in while the wind and water were calm and had managed safely tie up the boat securely. I was proud of how I handled the boat for the tie-up. The wind had begun to pick up speed as I entered the harbor and by the time I reached the pontoon in was at about 9 kts from the port side, meaning that the wind would push the boat down onto the pontoon. I simply nudged the boat parallel to the pontoon then let the wind bring me down onto it. Easy. Had I arrived 2 hours later I would have faced big wind problems.
Meantime the gusts continued. The prospect of regular occurrences of these bouts of gusts alone is enough to put me off from staying at RCYC. The gusts, I understand, are due to the proximity of Table Mountain, which must be that spectacular long mountain with a flat top that I saw very near by as I walked to RCYC.
Back at the boat I started to see it from a "normal" perspective rather than the somewhat desperate perspective of someone trying to get through a rough passage. For the last few hours I had been focusing on getting the boat to safety and now I was sweeping the floor. I would love to have 3 days to clean this boat from one end to the other because it seemed that everything was damp, dirty, or mouldy. I had tried to keep the place clean but there is only so much that one can do with cold seawater, since fresh water was too precious to use for cleaning. Unfortunately the cleaning would have to wait.
I have stopped using sea water in the galley primarily because the water in the harbor cannot be expected to be particularly clean. Besides, I'm ashore now and fresh water should be no problem.
I didn't say much about my approach to Cape Town in my last blog because I was so tired. (I'm still in a daze.) However, I will say now that it was a great experience. In a calm sea and light air I was able to appreciate the spectacular view of Cape Town as it unfolded even as the dawn and morning unfolded. I saw many seals (small ones) and in the harbor I had a brief escort from dolphins that were also on the small side and had white markings. I particularly enjoyed watching the mother escorting the boat with her young offspring close to her side.
As darkness approached I removed the airvane from the Monitor then settled in for the night with a half bottle of red wine and wondering what I would have for dinner. It would probably be rice with sardines in tomato sauce - for me a luxury meal. I was feeling better about the situation.
I woke up naturally at 4 AM UTC (6 AM local) time to conditions of dead calm and a cloudless blue sky. The anemometer at top of the 50 ft mast was reporting 1.6 kts and I would be able to push the boat around with one hand. It was time to move the boat.
I had two cups of coffee that for some reason tasted extraordinarily good - as good as the finest black coffee from any commercial establishment. Then it was time to get to work. I saw that I had good water at 3.9 meters and that the little bit of wind was nudging the boat away from the pontoon, which was helpful. I started the engine, prepared the ropes, then pushed the stern away from the pontoon and ran forward and pulled in remaining rope at the bow that was looped through the bollard. I put the engine in reverse and the prop walk kicked the stern further to port and soon I was drifting backwards toward along the short fairway parallel to the shore. I let the boat drift until we reached the corner and I had look around and did not see the fabled dock that the unhelpful yachtsman had told me about. I put the engine into forward and soon we were on our way out. My plan was to tie up at that short piece of dock space at the end of the fairway but trying to make a right turn to it would not work because as soon as I put the engine in reverse the stern would be kicked away from the jetty, so I decided to go out of the marina, do a loop, and approach the dock space bow on. That was just as well because as I started the left turn I saw that another boat had taken the dock space that I had planned on. On the way past, by the way, I got a glimpse of a blue sign that I think said Visitors, which meant that the visitor spaces had been occupied when I arrived.
Coming back into the marina I saw through binoculars that there was another T section of dock free at the far end of the main fairway, but for some reason I decided to turn the boat around and try to tie up behind the boat that had taken "my" space. However, I decided that it was too dangerous to try this because of the short remaining dock space available and the possibility that those ferocious gusts would return and drive me into the boat ahead. So I put the engine into reverse and backed two hundred meters to the free dock space. I had never tried to back the boat up long distance but I learned the technique fast. You've got to manage the rudder carefully and before giving the boat a jolt of reverse use the rudder to point the stern to the starboard side in order to compensate for the prop walk. At first opportunity I'll try backing the boat with the engine continually in reverse.
After I had the boat properly tied up (at slip SN20) I walked to the gate at the end of the jetty to see if I could get through it. Fortunately it was unlocked so I knew that I would be able to reach the club house. It was 7.30 AM local time, which gave me plenty of time for more coffee and a good sprucing up before making contact with the club. I had a good look at Pachuca tied across the end of the jetty as I walked back. Everything about her, from her rigging and equipment to the fuel jerry cans on deck to even to the way her mainsail was bound on top of the boom, had "cruising boat" written all over it. I was proud of her.
I thought of Jean Socrates who expected to round the Horn on this day.
Pachuca
Pachuca in Port Angeles, WA USA
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Sunday, January 6, 2013
Day 38 - Right Desert, Wrong Tent
In the afternoon I had a deluxe cockpit bath in preparation for my arrival.
My hopes of sailing through the night, even if only at 2.5 kts, were dashed when the southerly wind dropped to below 10 kts. At 8 PM I hailed a ship and explained that he would be passing me within a half mile on his starboard side. Instead of turning to port he turned to starboard and was headed directly for me. Outside I could clearly see his leading lights so I turned on the engine and altered course 90 degrees to starboard to pass astern of him. Once I had set the new course I called the ship and informed them of the situation.
Once the engine was on I left it on because I calculated that I would need a speed of about 4 kts in order to make the 45 miles to Cape Town in the early morning. I made the decision to stay up all night to watch the autopilot and for the shipping traffic that was around me. I must say that the conditions topside were superb. The sea was calm, the air gentle and cool, and overhead was the canopy of stars with Orion almost directly overhead and the Southern Cross low to the south.
The radar went on the fritz again. I tried to turn it on but nothing happened, even when I recycled the chart plotter itself. It's likely to be a problem where the cable was patched and is one more item for the Raymarine man. It was a shame because I could have used it this night.
At 11.30 PM the wind built up and was good enough for sailing so I rolled out the jib and switched off the engine. We were probably averaging 4 kts from the varying strength of the wind. There were quite a few ships about but they did not bother me as much as several brightly lit boats on the move. They had no AIS and their navigation lights were drowned out by the other bright lights on the boats so that I could easily determine their direction of travel. It was actually very enjoyable and exhilarating sailing because of the conditions, excellent visibility, and the many lights to keep track of.
The wind started to die and at 1 AM I went back to the engine for the rest of the journey. When the mist dissipated after the sun rose I had good vies of the coastline which was only 4 or 5 miles away. I saw mountains but wasn't sure which was the famous Table Mountain. At about 8 miles before the turn into the harbor I took advantage of the calm waters to prepare the boat for the entry. I put up the quarantine and courtesy flags, boat fenders on both sides, and mooring ropes fore and aft.
The 6.35 SAMMNet session came just before I made my turn into the harbor and I shut down the engine and let the boat drift during the session. They were pleased that had made it safely and a few words were said about them supporting me during my passage to Australia. Once I made that turn I saw it and had no doubt that it was Table Mountain that I was looking at. I took a few photos of Cape Town's spectacular setting.
The Noonsite web site states that the RCYC must be contacted on VHF 16 when approaching by boat. I kept calling them with no response and finally some good soul suggested that I try VHF 77, but I didn't get a response from that channel either. I would have to go into the marina unannounced and on my own. I worked my way to the corner where the yacht club was sited. Marine Plotter was particularly useful for this because the close up "roadmap" image showed the individual jetties. I had been expecting to see two guest berths at the end of the first jetty and in fact I saw a "T" section at the end of the first jetty that was clear and had bollards for tying up. I was making my way toward that when a man in a passing boat told me that the guest berths were up the first fairway that I had just passed. To my great regret I took the man's advice, turned Pachuca 180 degrees in the narrow fairway, then proceeded up this aquatic alley with boats on the left, rocks on the right, then a few Moorings charter boats on the right at the end of the rock wall. I got to the end of the fairway, looked to my left, and saw nothing suitable. However, dead ahead was a pontoon that was free so I tied to that.
It was only after I changed clothes and spruced myself up to make contact with the club that I noticed the sign as I walked off the boat that illegal parking of boats was forbidden. No problem: I would walk to the club house and get instructions on where to go. But that was not so simple. Although the charts and Google images suggest that the RCYC occupies this entire area, in fact a small part of it is occupied by the police service. Getting off the boat only put me in a large compound with scores of police cars and other equipment that was totally locked up. I walked around trying to find someone to speak to but there was nobody, undoubtedly because it was Sunday. So I was unable to find out where to take the boat and in any case the wind had kicked up making movement of the boat a big hazard.
Although Pachuca is tied up and we are safe, I am basically trapped until tomorrow (Monday) morning. I'll explain myself to the police and ask permission to visit the club so that I cab learn where to take the boat. If the police give me a hard time I'll ask them to cut me some slack since I had just arrived from a solo passage from Brazil and had not gotten a wink of sleep the night before. As for RCYC, I find great fault in their lack of good signs and clarity on where visitors should go. Also, not monitoring VHF 16 is a problem, even though it is Sunday. If it is all a Sunday problem then Noonsite should be advised of the actual working policy that is being used.
Finally, my first impression of RCYC is not good. It is tucked deep in the bowels of a heavy industrial zone. Even in Pachuca there is enough vibration coming through the hull to make me think that my engine is running.
I am indeed worn out. The best thing that I can do is to go to bed early (It's only 10 AM but it feels like 10 PM) and wake up refreshed to face the coming day. If the wind is calm in the early morning I will move the boat before anyone even notices that I was here.
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My hopes of sailing through the night, even if only at 2.5 kts, were dashed when the southerly wind dropped to below 10 kts. At 8 PM I hailed a ship and explained that he would be passing me within a half mile on his starboard side. Instead of turning to port he turned to starboard and was headed directly for me. Outside I could clearly see his leading lights so I turned on the engine and altered course 90 degrees to starboard to pass astern of him. Once I had set the new course I called the ship and informed them of the situation.
Once the engine was on I left it on because I calculated that I would need a speed of about 4 kts in order to make the 45 miles to Cape Town in the early morning. I made the decision to stay up all night to watch the autopilot and for the shipping traffic that was around me. I must say that the conditions topside were superb. The sea was calm, the air gentle and cool, and overhead was the canopy of stars with Orion almost directly overhead and the Southern Cross low to the south.
The radar went on the fritz again. I tried to turn it on but nothing happened, even when I recycled the chart plotter itself. It's likely to be a problem where the cable was patched and is one more item for the Raymarine man. It was a shame because I could have used it this night.
At 11.30 PM the wind built up and was good enough for sailing so I rolled out the jib and switched off the engine. We were probably averaging 4 kts from the varying strength of the wind. There were quite a few ships about but they did not bother me as much as several brightly lit boats on the move. They had no AIS and their navigation lights were drowned out by the other bright lights on the boats so that I could easily determine their direction of travel. It was actually very enjoyable and exhilarating sailing because of the conditions, excellent visibility, and the many lights to keep track of.
The wind started to die and at 1 AM I went back to the engine for the rest of the journey. When the mist dissipated after the sun rose I had good vies of the coastline which was only 4 or 5 miles away. I saw mountains but wasn't sure which was the famous Table Mountain. At about 8 miles before the turn into the harbor I took advantage of the calm waters to prepare the boat for the entry. I put up the quarantine and courtesy flags, boat fenders on both sides, and mooring ropes fore and aft.
The 6.35 SAMMNet session came just before I made my turn into the harbor and I shut down the engine and let the boat drift during the session. They were pleased that had made it safely and a few words were said about them supporting me during my passage to Australia. Once I made that turn I saw it and had no doubt that it was Table Mountain that I was looking at. I took a few photos of Cape Town's spectacular setting.
The Noonsite web site states that the RCYC must be contacted on VHF 16 when approaching by boat. I kept calling them with no response and finally some good soul suggested that I try VHF 77, but I didn't get a response from that channel either. I would have to go into the marina unannounced and on my own. I worked my way to the corner where the yacht club was sited. Marine Plotter was particularly useful for this because the close up "roadmap" image showed the individual jetties. I had been expecting to see two guest berths at the end of the first jetty and in fact I saw a "T" section at the end of the first jetty that was clear and had bollards for tying up. I was making my way toward that when a man in a passing boat told me that the guest berths were up the first fairway that I had just passed. To my great regret I took the man's advice, turned Pachuca 180 degrees in the narrow fairway, then proceeded up this aquatic alley with boats on the left, rocks on the right, then a few Moorings charter boats on the right at the end of the rock wall. I got to the end of the fairway, looked to my left, and saw nothing suitable. However, dead ahead was a pontoon that was free so I tied to that.
It was only after I changed clothes and spruced myself up to make contact with the club that I noticed the sign as I walked off the boat that illegal parking of boats was forbidden. No problem: I would walk to the club house and get instructions on where to go. But that was not so simple. Although the charts and Google images suggest that the RCYC occupies this entire area, in fact a small part of it is occupied by the police service. Getting off the boat only put me in a large compound with scores of police cars and other equipment that was totally locked up. I walked around trying to find someone to speak to but there was nobody, undoubtedly because it was Sunday. So I was unable to find out where to take the boat and in any case the wind had kicked up making movement of the boat a big hazard.
Although Pachuca is tied up and we are safe, I am basically trapped until tomorrow (Monday) morning. I'll explain myself to the police and ask permission to visit the club so that I cab learn where to take the boat. If the police give me a hard time I'll ask them to cut me some slack since I had just arrived from a solo passage from Brazil and had not gotten a wink of sleep the night before. As for RCYC, I find great fault in their lack of good signs and clarity on where visitors should go. Also, not monitoring VHF 16 is a problem, even though it is Sunday. If it is all a Sunday problem then Noonsite should be advised of the actual working policy that is being used.
Finally, my first impression of RCYC is not good. It is tucked deep in the bowels of a heavy industrial zone. Even in Pachuca there is enough vibration coming through the hull to make me think that my engine is running.
I am indeed worn out. The best thing that I can do is to go to bed early (It's only 10 AM but it feels like 10 PM) and wake up refreshed to face the coming day. If the wind is calm in the early morning I will move the boat before anyone even notices that I was here.
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Saturday, January 5, 2013
Day 37 -Final Sprint
We started off making 4.2 and 4.3 knots with the engine turning at 1800 rpm. At hour later our speed was just above 5 knots, which I could attribute only to the calmer sea. Then outside I got the bright idea of rolling out some headsail to take advantage of the 7 and 8 kt wind coming off the starboard beam. This brought our speed up to 6.1 and 6.2 kts, almost a 50% increase.
By the time I finished the movie I was looking at speeds of 7.2-7.8 kts. I think that the wind had picked up and the sail contributing more. I was actually on duty while I watched the movie because I was able to keep a close eye on our course on the chart plotter just above the laptop screen. Since the beginning of the run the autopilot had disengaged once.
At 7 PM we were 142 miles from CT. I switched on the radar for the night then went outside into the early evening. The sea was calm, the headsail was full from the 10 kt wind off the beam, and the boat was moving effortlessly through the water. I would try to stay up until midnight which would give us another 35 or 40 miles so I returned to the cabin, made a cup of chocolate, and selected the next movie.
At 8.15 PM I decided to give the sail a try. I put the engine into neutral and was surprised to see the boat speed holding up at almost 6 knots. I shut down the engine, rolled out more sail, set up the Monitor to do the steering, and there we were making over 6 kts off a 12 kt wind with just a headsail. The keys were the calm sea and the wind on the beam. Most important, it would allow me to sleep while we were moving. I immediately went to bed at about 9 PM while the getting was good. At the 11 PM and 1 AM checks the boat was still moving well and on course. By then I had enough confidence in the situation to return to bed with no alarm set.
I was up at 4 AM to find the boat still moving well (about 5 kts) and on course, and we were only 70 miles from Cape Point. The grib file had predicted generally slack winds but with variation within the tiny 2 degree by 3 degree patch of ocean that I was looking at. One frame reported winds of 2.4 kts at 36S and 15 kts at 34S. I was at about 35S and was not expecting much help, particularly since grib files always seem wrong against my favor. But this time fortune was with me at a very important time. We had gained about 40 miles while I slept and were still moving well. It is quite likely that the 8 hours of motoring had put me in this fortunate position, and had I not done so we might still be drifting with no wind. Ya gotta win a few.
Over a cup of coffee I saw that the tanker Fida was headed my way and would pass close by in about 50 minutes. Because the boat was constantly changing speed and course while sailing in lumpy seas the CPA number (Closest Point of Approximation) kept jumping around between 1.5 and 2.5 miles. I would watch the ship but was not too worried, given that I had the VHF radio, the engine, and daylight. I raised Fida when she was 40 minutes away and reported my situation. I told the officer that he should be able to see me on his AIS. He told me that he was aware of me and I wished him a good day.
The wind suddenly backed and I found myself on a heading directly for Cape Town. This was not good because it would make my arrival at about 10 PM and a night entry into a strange port was out of the question. There was also the unacceptable risk that a wind shift in conjunction with the current would cause me to overshoot Cape Town. I hardened the headsail and put the boat hard to weather, which gave us a heading toward Cape point and also slowed the boat somewhat. I was not too concerned because I had at least 8 spare hours up my sleeve and could tack to the south if needs be.
The 0630 SAMMNet session went well. For the second morning someone named Trevor was acting as controller but for the second morning Sam broke in from a mobile station to give me a personal weather report. The dedication of the people running these HF radio nets for seafarers never ceases to amaze me. The thought crossed my mind that those hours that I spent studying for the Ham licenses during that 5 week bus trip through Mexico with Brenda had paid off big time because without a Ham license I would have had no access to the marvelous services of SAMMNet.
Thankfully Sam did not freak out at my position somewhat to the north of the ideal. I explained my plan of slowing the boat down and arriving in the morning and he seemed OK with that. His weather report was quite favorable too. At noon I could expect SE winds of 15 kts, pretty well what I was experiencing at the moment. At 1800 and midnight the wind would veer to the south at 10-20 kts. This was very good because it would provide gentler conditions and allow me to steer E or even SE, enabling me to make my turn to the north from south of Cape Point. I would then be able to amble northwards throughout the night, possible drifting or motoring if the wind was too light for sailing. In the morning the wind would be S-SE at 10-20 ktw. That was as good a prediction as I could ask for.
At 7 AM the wind backed again and we were headed too much to the north. I wore ship hoping to achieve SE on a port tack but the result was disappointing and we could barely make a S heading so I put us back on the starboard tack with shortened sail. We were making 025T at 3.3 kts but I expected the wind to veer back toward the south in the afternoon which would allow me to close more directly to the land. I would have to keep my wits about me until I tie up and I was very happy that I had gotten a good night's sleep. Outside it was a cloudless and brilliantly sunny day. During the SAMMNet session I heard complaints of still more hot weather. I must admit that I had reverted to underclothes sailing. I put the navigation seat cushion in the sun to dry it out.
I got a weather update from SAMMNet after passing my situation data. At midnight tonight the wind will be from the S at 10-15 kts and at 0600 tomorrow morning it will be S 5-15 kts. This is a splendid wind forecast for my arrival, particularly since the Cape Town waterfront faces the north and is protected from the south (although Table Mountain can actually concentrate high SE winds). Sam asked my ETA at RCYC and I told him 0900 UTC, though I might make it earlier because I am pretty sure that Cape Town is on UTC+2 time.
At noon our position was 34S37, 017E29, giving us a n-n distance of 117 miles in the direction ENE (062T), which included that 8.3 hours of motoring. We were 55 miles WSW of Cape Point and 64 milers SW of Cape Town. The barometer had fallen 5 points to 1018 but the weather was splendid. The wind had veered toward the S as expected so I rolled out some sail and we were making 3.5 kts directly for Cape Town.
As the Africans say, Safari Sagoody.
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By the time I finished the movie I was looking at speeds of 7.2-7.8 kts. I think that the wind had picked up and the sail contributing more. I was actually on duty while I watched the movie because I was able to keep a close eye on our course on the chart plotter just above the laptop screen. Since the beginning of the run the autopilot had disengaged once.
At 7 PM we were 142 miles from CT. I switched on the radar for the night then went outside into the early evening. The sea was calm, the headsail was full from the 10 kt wind off the beam, and the boat was moving effortlessly through the water. I would try to stay up until midnight which would give us another 35 or 40 miles so I returned to the cabin, made a cup of chocolate, and selected the next movie.
At 8.15 PM I decided to give the sail a try. I put the engine into neutral and was surprised to see the boat speed holding up at almost 6 knots. I shut down the engine, rolled out more sail, set up the Monitor to do the steering, and there we were making over 6 kts off a 12 kt wind with just a headsail. The keys were the calm sea and the wind on the beam. Most important, it would allow me to sleep while we were moving. I immediately went to bed at about 9 PM while the getting was good. At the 11 PM and 1 AM checks the boat was still moving well and on course. By then I had enough confidence in the situation to return to bed with no alarm set.
I was up at 4 AM to find the boat still moving well (about 5 kts) and on course, and we were only 70 miles from Cape Point. The grib file had predicted generally slack winds but with variation within the tiny 2 degree by 3 degree patch of ocean that I was looking at. One frame reported winds of 2.4 kts at 36S and 15 kts at 34S. I was at about 35S and was not expecting much help, particularly since grib files always seem wrong against my favor. But this time fortune was with me at a very important time. We had gained about 40 miles while I slept and were still moving well. It is quite likely that the 8 hours of motoring had put me in this fortunate position, and had I not done so we might still be drifting with no wind. Ya gotta win a few.
Over a cup of coffee I saw that the tanker Fida was headed my way and would pass close by in about 50 minutes. Because the boat was constantly changing speed and course while sailing in lumpy seas the CPA number (Closest Point of Approximation) kept jumping around between 1.5 and 2.5 miles. I would watch the ship but was not too worried, given that I had the VHF radio, the engine, and daylight. I raised Fida when she was 40 minutes away and reported my situation. I told the officer that he should be able to see me on his AIS. He told me that he was aware of me and I wished him a good day.
The wind suddenly backed and I found myself on a heading directly for Cape Town. This was not good because it would make my arrival at about 10 PM and a night entry into a strange port was out of the question. There was also the unacceptable risk that a wind shift in conjunction with the current would cause me to overshoot Cape Town. I hardened the headsail and put the boat hard to weather, which gave us a heading toward Cape point and also slowed the boat somewhat. I was not too concerned because I had at least 8 spare hours up my sleeve and could tack to the south if needs be.
The 0630 SAMMNet session went well. For the second morning someone named Trevor was acting as controller but for the second morning Sam broke in from a mobile station to give me a personal weather report. The dedication of the people running these HF radio nets for seafarers never ceases to amaze me. The thought crossed my mind that those hours that I spent studying for the Ham licenses during that 5 week bus trip through Mexico with Brenda had paid off big time because without a Ham license I would have had no access to the marvelous services of SAMMNet.
Thankfully Sam did not freak out at my position somewhat to the north of the ideal. I explained my plan of slowing the boat down and arriving in the morning and he seemed OK with that. His weather report was quite favorable too. At noon I could expect SE winds of 15 kts, pretty well what I was experiencing at the moment. At 1800 and midnight the wind would veer to the south at 10-20 kts. This was very good because it would provide gentler conditions and allow me to steer E or even SE, enabling me to make my turn to the north from south of Cape Point. I would then be able to amble northwards throughout the night, possible drifting or motoring if the wind was too light for sailing. In the morning the wind would be S-SE at 10-20 ktw. That was as good a prediction as I could ask for.
At 7 AM the wind backed again and we were headed too much to the north. I wore ship hoping to achieve SE on a port tack but the result was disappointing and we could barely make a S heading so I put us back on the starboard tack with shortened sail. We were making 025T at 3.3 kts but I expected the wind to veer back toward the south in the afternoon which would allow me to close more directly to the land. I would have to keep my wits about me until I tie up and I was very happy that I had gotten a good night's sleep. Outside it was a cloudless and brilliantly sunny day. During the SAMMNet session I heard complaints of still more hot weather. I must admit that I had reverted to underclothes sailing. I put the navigation seat cushion in the sun to dry it out.
I got a weather update from SAMMNet after passing my situation data. At midnight tonight the wind will be from the S at 10-15 kts and at 0600 tomorrow morning it will be S 5-15 kts. This is a splendid wind forecast for my arrival, particularly since the Cape Town waterfront faces the north and is protected from the south (although Table Mountain can actually concentrate high SE winds). Sam asked my ETA at RCYC and I told him 0900 UTC, though I might make it earlier because I am pretty sure that Cape Town is on UTC+2 time.
At noon our position was 34S37, 017E29, giving us a n-n distance of 117 miles in the direction ENE (062T), which included that 8.3 hours of motoring. We were 55 miles WSW of Cape Point and 64 milers SW of Cape Town. The barometer had fallen 5 points to 1018 but the weather was splendid. The wind had veered toward the S as expected so I rolled out some sail and we were making 3.5 kts directly for Cape Town.
As the Africans say, Safari Sagoody.
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Friday, January 4, 2013
Day 36 - Motoring Toward Cape Town
I got phenomenal performance from the 2 PM Sailmail session yesterday: 5000 bytes/min sending and 2400 bytes/min receiving. That is 25 times faster than some of the transmission rates that I've had to endure and about 12 times faster than the slowest receive rate.
I got the bright idea of getting a "spot" wind report for every 6 hours of the next 4 days at a location just south of Cape Point, on the approach to Simons Town. The idea was to get an idea of what to expect when we made our landfall. The wind predictions through to noon on 7 January are excellent, with no winds greater than 18 kts and most below 15 kts. The only fly in that ointment was two periods of light winds predicted in the next few days, which might threaten my arrival date. This made me hungry for speed and before I finished that first cup of wine I suited up and went topside and raised the mainsail even though the swell was still high and the wind close to 20 kts. I wanted to do it to maintain boat speed during the expected lighter winds throughout the night. It was a spell of good old fashioned sailing with the headsail luffing as the boat pointed as far as possible into the howling wind and big swell sent spray everywhere, and me working frantically at the winches and hauling various lines by hand. The Monitor could not handle the conditions so I switched to the autopilot knowing that if it went on standby the boat would merely luff up into the wind. The job got done with lots of sweat and little drama, and I returned to my wine satisfied with my decision and pleased with the speeds of over 6 kts that I was seeing.
Based on advice from a person with impeccable knowledge of the area I had decided to make landfall at Simons Town. That decision felt right and I was starting to get the whiff of success even before I had gotten a whiff of Africa. Cape Town had never felt right for various reasons, or maybe it was just that Simons Town always looked so much more inviting in contrast. From here on in I will quote distances to Simons Town, which is 7 miles shorter than Cape Town by air but actually 8 miles longer because I must make the run up from Cape Point. (Got that? Don't worry about it, its inconsequential.)
I went into a sleep regime of waking up every two hours for checks and the boat held steady, tracking due east at well over 6 kts until the 2 AM check. I was drifting back to sleep when I felt the slight shudder of the headsail luffing and could hear a slight increase in the wind speed. The autopilot had thrown itself into standby mode after what must have been 10 or 11 hours of flawless performance. There was no damage other than our being 45 degrees off course and heading SE instead of E. I restored our course then decided to stay up a while to watch the boat. It was a pleasure to see the boat racing through the relatively calm water in the pale moonlight. We were on a beam reach with the mainsail double reefed and the headsail rolled out to the shrouds. High overhead through a break in the clouds I could see the Southern Cross.By then I had had close to 6 hours of sleep. Jeanne Socrates had given me the name of the top man in the Cape area for Raymarine work. I would mention the autopilot standby problem when I saw him about replacement of the ST60 Plus masthead unit.
Fifteen minutes later the autopilot disengaged gain. Something had changed that the autopilot didn't like, perhaps a subtle change in the wind speed had changed the balance of the sails. I rolled in about 2 ft of headsail the set the boat back on course. Over my shoulder I could see "prima luce" the first light of dawn and I figured that I might as well stay up and have coffee and toast - and stay suited up. I would catnap during the day as I usually did. At the chart plotter I could see that our speed was still over 6 kts. The wind speed numbers were jumping all over the place but the average seemed to have dropped to 16 or 17 kts.
At 3.30 AM we were 200 miles from Simons Town. I was concerned with the bouts of light airs ahead but I was not averse to using the engine in this scale of distances.
As usual the equipment had noticed the wind change before I had. By 4 AM the wind was down to about 12 kts (as predicted) and I transferred the steering to Jeff the Monitor.
I spent some time studying the chart and doing "what ifs" with various courses and concluded that it didn't make sense to approach the coast from 36W, so I decided to start working the boat up to 35S. That would put me 30 miles south of Cape Point, the southern tip of the peninsula where Simons Town was located on the east side. If I found myself dealing with adverse winds I would have to beat my way through it, but it was worth the risk.
I had a good session with SAMMNet at 6.35 AM. The winds around the CT area are very calm. It was Sam who had told me that it was OK for me to make landfall at Simons Town, based no doubt on his years of experience dealing with visiting yachts. But to his credit he told me that he had done some checking last night. There was a directive issued in late November stating a firm policy that all yachts visiting for the first time must proceed to RCYC at Cape Town, so it appears that there has been a crack down. Sam will do more investigation this morning and will give me the final word at the 11.35 AM session. I told SAM that I was going to move north to 35S for my final run and he had no problem with that. He told me that the current and danger of overshooting Cape Town is an issue only if there is a strong SE blowing.
Things are quiet now and I am determined to tie ups either in CT or Simons Town within the next 2 days. At 7.15 AM we are 192 miles out of CT and we are still making about 3 kts on a falling wind, with the boom slamming every few minutes. My plan is to get as much distance as possible from the falling wind then start the engine. Already I am in motoring range but I should be able to greatly reduce the motoring distance with bouts of sailing whenever a useful wind comes up.
I must get into the habit of looking around more when I'm on deck. I was on top of the cabin doing some preparatory work for dropping the mainsail when I head an alarm from the chart plotter. I went down below and saw that cargo ship Meghna Princess bound for Chittagong was only 3 miles away and would pass me within 2 miles of my starboard side. All I had to do was to look up and I would have seen the ship immediately. It was all to the good because during the distraction the wind picked up enough to stop the destructive slatting of both sails.
At 10 AM I dropped the mainsail and tried running with a reduced jib for a while. Just before the 11.35 AM SAMMNet session I rolled in the headsail and put the boat ahull. When thing settled down I noticed that our drift was about 0.5 kts to the NE.
At the SAMMNet session Sam confirmed that I MUST proceed to Cape Town to make my entry into the country. He said that in the past the authorities did not enforce that policy (though according to Jeanne they would grumble), but in late November the strict policy was gazetted and will be enforced. I thanked Sam for his research on my behalf and told him that after the session I would start the engine and motor toward Cape Town.
At noon our position was 35S22, 015E17, giving us a n-n distance of 115 miles to the east (085T), thanks to the wise decision to run with the mainsail overnight. We were 180 miles out of Cape Town. The barometer was at 1023 HPa, a rise of 3 points.
I checked the engine levels (added a bit of coolant) then started the engine just past noon and noted that we were doing about 4.3 kts at 1800 rpm. I did not expect to motor all of the way to Cape Town because spells of usable wind were predicted. Watching the autopilot was an issue because if it went into standby the boat would begin to do large counter clockwise circles until I attended to it. I would probably stay up with no catnaps then shut down the engine and drift for the serious sleep during the night. For some reason I have always been reluctant to use the engine for travel on this scale but then I thought about it and figured that I had spent big dollars for a top quality engine and I had already paid the price of bringing all of the extra fuel from Brazil, so why not use it? I calculated that the 140 liters in the full fuel tanks would be sufficient to drive the boat all of the 180 miles to CT but to be sure to be sure I would probably transfer fuel from the 140 liters or so on deck.
At 4.3 kts it would require 42 hours to reach CT if I assumed that sail could be substituted for motoring at 4.3 kts, but then there was sleep to think about. Factoring it all in I figured that I could reach CT comfortably by noon of the 7th, 72 hours away.
----------
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I got the bright idea of getting a "spot" wind report for every 6 hours of the next 4 days at a location just south of Cape Point, on the approach to Simons Town. The idea was to get an idea of what to expect when we made our landfall. The wind predictions through to noon on 7 January are excellent, with no winds greater than 18 kts and most below 15 kts. The only fly in that ointment was two periods of light winds predicted in the next few days, which might threaten my arrival date. This made me hungry for speed and before I finished that first cup of wine I suited up and went topside and raised the mainsail even though the swell was still high and the wind close to 20 kts. I wanted to do it to maintain boat speed during the expected lighter winds throughout the night. It was a spell of good old fashioned sailing with the headsail luffing as the boat pointed as far as possible into the howling wind and big swell sent spray everywhere, and me working frantically at the winches and hauling various lines by hand. The Monitor could not handle the conditions so I switched to the autopilot knowing that if it went on standby the boat would merely luff up into the wind. The job got done with lots of sweat and little drama, and I returned to my wine satisfied with my decision and pleased with the speeds of over 6 kts that I was seeing.
Based on advice from a person with impeccable knowledge of the area I had decided to make landfall at Simons Town. That decision felt right and I was starting to get the whiff of success even before I had gotten a whiff of Africa. Cape Town had never felt right for various reasons, or maybe it was just that Simons Town always looked so much more inviting in contrast. From here on in I will quote distances to Simons Town, which is 7 miles shorter than Cape Town by air but actually 8 miles longer because I must make the run up from Cape Point. (Got that? Don't worry about it, its inconsequential.)
I went into a sleep regime of waking up every two hours for checks and the boat held steady, tracking due east at well over 6 kts until the 2 AM check. I was drifting back to sleep when I felt the slight shudder of the headsail luffing and could hear a slight increase in the wind speed. The autopilot had thrown itself into standby mode after what must have been 10 or 11 hours of flawless performance. There was no damage other than our being 45 degrees off course and heading SE instead of E. I restored our course then decided to stay up a while to watch the boat. It was a pleasure to see the boat racing through the relatively calm water in the pale moonlight. We were on a beam reach with the mainsail double reefed and the headsail rolled out to the shrouds. High overhead through a break in the clouds I could see the Southern Cross.By then I had had close to 6 hours of sleep. Jeanne Socrates had given me the name of the top man in the Cape area for Raymarine work. I would mention the autopilot standby problem when I saw him about replacement of the ST60 Plus masthead unit.
Fifteen minutes later the autopilot disengaged gain. Something had changed that the autopilot didn't like, perhaps a subtle change in the wind speed had changed the balance of the sails. I rolled in about 2 ft of headsail the set the boat back on course. Over my shoulder I could see "prima luce" the first light of dawn and I figured that I might as well stay up and have coffee and toast - and stay suited up. I would catnap during the day as I usually did. At the chart plotter I could see that our speed was still over 6 kts. The wind speed numbers were jumping all over the place but the average seemed to have dropped to 16 or 17 kts.
At 3.30 AM we were 200 miles from Simons Town. I was concerned with the bouts of light airs ahead but I was not averse to using the engine in this scale of distances.
As usual the equipment had noticed the wind change before I had. By 4 AM the wind was down to about 12 kts (as predicted) and I transferred the steering to Jeff the Monitor.
I spent some time studying the chart and doing "what ifs" with various courses and concluded that it didn't make sense to approach the coast from 36W, so I decided to start working the boat up to 35S. That would put me 30 miles south of Cape Point, the southern tip of the peninsula where Simons Town was located on the east side. If I found myself dealing with adverse winds I would have to beat my way through it, but it was worth the risk.
I had a good session with SAMMNet at 6.35 AM. The winds around the CT area are very calm. It was Sam who had told me that it was OK for me to make landfall at Simons Town, based no doubt on his years of experience dealing with visiting yachts. But to his credit he told me that he had done some checking last night. There was a directive issued in late November stating a firm policy that all yachts visiting for the first time must proceed to RCYC at Cape Town, so it appears that there has been a crack down. Sam will do more investigation this morning and will give me the final word at the 11.35 AM session. I told SAM that I was going to move north to 35S for my final run and he had no problem with that. He told me that the current and danger of overshooting Cape Town is an issue only if there is a strong SE blowing.
Things are quiet now and I am determined to tie ups either in CT or Simons Town within the next 2 days. At 7.15 AM we are 192 miles out of CT and we are still making about 3 kts on a falling wind, with the boom slamming every few minutes. My plan is to get as much distance as possible from the falling wind then start the engine. Already I am in motoring range but I should be able to greatly reduce the motoring distance with bouts of sailing whenever a useful wind comes up.
I must get into the habit of looking around more when I'm on deck. I was on top of the cabin doing some preparatory work for dropping the mainsail when I head an alarm from the chart plotter. I went down below and saw that cargo ship Meghna Princess bound for Chittagong was only 3 miles away and would pass me within 2 miles of my starboard side. All I had to do was to look up and I would have seen the ship immediately. It was all to the good because during the distraction the wind picked up enough to stop the destructive slatting of both sails.
At 10 AM I dropped the mainsail and tried running with a reduced jib for a while. Just before the 11.35 AM SAMMNet session I rolled in the headsail and put the boat ahull. When thing settled down I noticed that our drift was about 0.5 kts to the NE.
At the SAMMNet session Sam confirmed that I MUST proceed to Cape Town to make my entry into the country. He said that in the past the authorities did not enforce that policy (though according to Jeanne they would grumble), but in late November the strict policy was gazetted and will be enforced. I thanked Sam for his research on my behalf and told him that after the session I would start the engine and motor toward Cape Town.
At noon our position was 35S22, 015E17, giving us a n-n distance of 115 miles to the east (085T), thanks to the wise decision to run with the mainsail overnight. We were 180 miles out of Cape Town. The barometer was at 1023 HPa, a rise of 3 points.
I checked the engine levels (added a bit of coolant) then started the engine just past noon and noted that we were doing about 4.3 kts at 1800 rpm. I did not expect to motor all of the way to Cape Town because spells of usable wind were predicted. Watching the autopilot was an issue because if it went into standby the boat would begin to do large counter clockwise circles until I attended to it. I would probably stay up with no catnaps then shut down the engine and drift for the serious sleep during the night. For some reason I have always been reluctant to use the engine for travel on this scale but then I thought about it and figured that I had spent big dollars for a top quality engine and I had already paid the price of bringing all of the extra fuel from Brazil, so why not use it? I calculated that the 140 liters in the full fuel tanks would be sufficient to drive the boat all of the 180 miles to CT but to be sure to be sure I would probably transfer fuel from the 140 liters or so on deck.
At 4.3 kts it would require 42 hours to reach CT if I assumed that sail could be substituted for motoring at 4.3 kts, but then there was sleep to think about. Factoring it all in I figured that I could reach CT comfortably by noon of the 7th, 72 hours away.
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Thursday, January 3, 2013
Day 35 - Under 300
The 2 PM Sailmail session yesterday went extremely well. I got 2700 bytes/min transmitting and more than 1000 bytes/min receiving, and I was able to clear the backlog of incoming mail, including a vital grib file. Perhaps at last my Sailmail throughput problems are over.
I received two messages directly from the False Bay Yacht Club in Simons Town and now have all of the information that I need in order to make a decision on accommodation of the boat. Regardless, I MUST visit the RCYC in order to discharge the formalities of my entering the country, so Cape Town bound I am. The question is whether I'll move on to Simons Town, and when. I like the idea of spending some time at Simons Town. I've been informed that it is a great little town that is very safe, and on principle it would be nice to experience both marinas.
We had a rough night. The Monitor could not deal with the weather helm so I put my trust into the autopilot for the night. However, I set up the alarm for 1.5 hours before every session of sleep so that I could make frequent checks on the autopilot. I was settling in for another round of sleep at 1.30 AM when I heard the headsail luffing. That meant that we were into the wind which meant that the autopilot had thrown itself into standby. I suited up and went topside and witnessed near gale conditions with the wind at about 30 kt and the seas very high. I pointed the boat downwind and tried the Monitor without success so I went back to the autopilot, which behaved for the rest of the night.
I was disappointed to see the autopilot go to standby because during the afternoon I had made a change in its settings that I thought might solve the problem. There are 3 levels of "rudder response". Level 1, the default, is a more relaxed and laid back response to course changes whose great virtue is that minimal battery power is used. Level 2 gives a more lively response and level 3 gives super tight rudder control. I had gone to level 2. On the other hand, the unit went on standby during horrendous conditions so there is still a chance that the problem has been solved for lighter conditions.
I then spent some time going through the Monitor documentation, primarily looking for a list of agents worldwide. None were listed. However, the documentation is so good, with excellent diagrams and step-by-step instructions for replacing parts, that I have no doubt that I can refurbish the unit myself when we get back to Fremantle. But Fremantle is another 5000 miles away so if I can find a technician that I trust in the Cape Town area I will have the work done there. To that end I will be sending a message to Scanmar asking for their advice on the matter. Failing that, I have a few parts in my package of spares that would enable me to improve the prospects of the Monitor on the passage to Australia.
I had a good session with Graham on SAMMNet today. I told him about my rough time with the 30 knot wind (which didn't last long) and he told me that it must have been that cold front that was over the Cape at the moment. He expressed regret at not telling me about the front because at the time it appeared to be weak in my area. That made me feel a bit bad because he has been delivering brilliant personalized weather reports to me and the question of blame hadn't even entered my mind.
Graham advised me to drop down to 36S for the final approach to Cape Town. I was at 35S28 so it meant moving south 32 miles. This means that I will not be closing in on Cape Town as fast as I have been because CT is currently on a bearing of 72T and I must adopt headings greater than 90T whenever possible (like now, when we are on a heading of 110T). However, once I make that turn to run up the coast to CT I expect to make fast progress with the favorable (0.9 kt) current and winds. Regarding winds, I told Graham that I am terrified of approaching CT in one of those strong SE blows and I would be willing to stand off for a day or two if I had to. He noted that and I'm sure that I will get excellent advice on the matter.
At 9.30 AM we were 300 miles from Cape Town.
At 11.30 AM I established contact with Sam (call sign ZS1SAM) who deals with the coastal weather for the first time on 7.120 MHz LSB and he seemed to be glad to hear from me since he and Graham (ZS2ABK, 14.316 MHz USB) keep in close touch with each other. Graham is the long distance man and besides, soon I will be too close to receive his signal, so I expect to work with Sam until my landfall.
At noon our position was 35S31, 012E57, giving us a n-n distance of 103 miles to the east (089T). I was amazed at the 103 miles given the slow pace that we seemed to have been making, particularly during that rough weather from the south. The barometer had risen 2 points to 1020 HPa.
The wind had abated, the sea had calmed down, and we were now making 4.5-5.0 kts under headsail. I was feeling better, particularly with the bright sun beginning to peep through the clouds.
----------
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I received two messages directly from the False Bay Yacht Club in Simons Town and now have all of the information that I need in order to make a decision on accommodation of the boat. Regardless, I MUST visit the RCYC in order to discharge the formalities of my entering the country, so Cape Town bound I am. The question is whether I'll move on to Simons Town, and when. I like the idea of spending some time at Simons Town. I've been informed that it is a great little town that is very safe, and on principle it would be nice to experience both marinas.
We had a rough night. The Monitor could not deal with the weather helm so I put my trust into the autopilot for the night. However, I set up the alarm for 1.5 hours before every session of sleep so that I could make frequent checks on the autopilot. I was settling in for another round of sleep at 1.30 AM when I heard the headsail luffing. That meant that we were into the wind which meant that the autopilot had thrown itself into standby. I suited up and went topside and witnessed near gale conditions with the wind at about 30 kt and the seas very high. I pointed the boat downwind and tried the Monitor without success so I went back to the autopilot, which behaved for the rest of the night.
I was disappointed to see the autopilot go to standby because during the afternoon I had made a change in its settings that I thought might solve the problem. There are 3 levels of "rudder response". Level 1, the default, is a more relaxed and laid back response to course changes whose great virtue is that minimal battery power is used. Level 2 gives a more lively response and level 3 gives super tight rudder control. I had gone to level 2. On the other hand, the unit went on standby during horrendous conditions so there is still a chance that the problem has been solved for lighter conditions.
I then spent some time going through the Monitor documentation, primarily looking for a list of agents worldwide. None were listed. However, the documentation is so good, with excellent diagrams and step-by-step instructions for replacing parts, that I have no doubt that I can refurbish the unit myself when we get back to Fremantle. But Fremantle is another 5000 miles away so if I can find a technician that I trust in the Cape Town area I will have the work done there. To that end I will be sending a message to Scanmar asking for their advice on the matter. Failing that, I have a few parts in my package of spares that would enable me to improve the prospects of the Monitor on the passage to Australia.
I had a good session with Graham on SAMMNet today. I told him about my rough time with the 30 knot wind (which didn't last long) and he told me that it must have been that cold front that was over the Cape at the moment. He expressed regret at not telling me about the front because at the time it appeared to be weak in my area. That made me feel a bit bad because he has been delivering brilliant personalized weather reports to me and the question of blame hadn't even entered my mind.
Graham advised me to drop down to 36S for the final approach to Cape Town. I was at 35S28 so it meant moving south 32 miles. This means that I will not be closing in on Cape Town as fast as I have been because CT is currently on a bearing of 72T and I must adopt headings greater than 90T whenever possible (like now, when we are on a heading of 110T). However, once I make that turn to run up the coast to CT I expect to make fast progress with the favorable (0.9 kt) current and winds. Regarding winds, I told Graham that I am terrified of approaching CT in one of those strong SE blows and I would be willing to stand off for a day or two if I had to. He noted that and I'm sure that I will get excellent advice on the matter.
At 9.30 AM we were 300 miles from Cape Town.
At 11.30 AM I established contact with Sam (call sign ZS1SAM) who deals with the coastal weather for the first time on 7.120 MHz LSB and he seemed to be glad to hear from me since he and Graham (ZS2ABK, 14.316 MHz USB) keep in close touch with each other. Graham is the long distance man and besides, soon I will be too close to receive his signal, so I expect to work with Sam until my landfall.
At noon our position was 35S31, 012E57, giving us a n-n distance of 103 miles to the east (089T). I was amazed at the 103 miles given the slow pace that we seemed to have been making, particularly during that rough weather from the south. The barometer had risen 2 points to 1020 HPa.
The wind had abated, the sea had calmed down, and we were now making 4.5-5.0 kts under headsail. I was feeling better, particularly with the bright sun beginning to peep through the clouds.
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Tuesday, January 1, 2013
Day 34 - On the Move Again
We were sailing again at 2.30 AM. I was rolling over for another bout of sleep at 2 AM when I noticed the hum of the Rutland. On deck I saw that the wind was a viable 13 kts or so I rolled out a bit of jib to get of going, calculated that a gybe was required, and soon we were moving due east at about 3.2 kts under autopilot control. We had drifted 7 miles SSE while lying ahull. The grib file predicted a steadily increasing wind so I expected at least 24 hours of good progress.
I started up the Acer netbook backup machine to retrieve some files. It booted up OK and behaved after I hit the "shift" key several times. I was pleased to see that it had over 2 hours of battery life remaining.
I decided to bake a loaf of bread and spent an hour setting things up and kneading the dough. I think that I solved the problem of how to keep the dough warm during the rising stage by filling two hot water bottles with boiled sea water and putting them in the oven before the kneading process. Both the yeast and flour are over a year old, and I didn't measure anything, so I wasn't sure what the result would be. The butter was from Argentina but still tasted OK. After I put the dough in the oven to rise I checked our position and at 9.30 AM we were 400 miles from Cape Town.
At noon our position was 35S31, 010E51, giving us a n-n distance of 44 miles to the east. The barometer had fallen 8 points to 1018 HPa. We were now 390 miles from Cape Town. We were running before a 20 kt WNW wind and I had just reduced sail for a more comfortable ride. Our speed was now about 4.5 kts.
The bread came out very good. I got into trouble because I had prepared too much - more than 1 kg of flour went into it - and at the first rising it overflowed the big square pan that I was using. It wasn't the most beautiful loaf that I have baked but it was light and had a thick brown crust on top. Naturally I helped myself to a large piece of it while it was still warm, and it was delicious. The important thing was that the yeast and the flour proved to be OK.
I began the passage by transmitting my blogs at around midnight. As we approached SA I was able to send them at about 7 PM. The propagation matrix now tells me that I should be able to transmit during the afternoons using the higher frequencies, so I plan to try that now (2 PM) in the hopes of getting faster transmission rates, particularly on receiving. If this is the last entry in this blog then it means that the early time worked out OK.
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I started up the Acer netbook backup machine to retrieve some files. It booted up OK and behaved after I hit the "shift" key several times. I was pleased to see that it had over 2 hours of battery life remaining.
I decided to bake a loaf of bread and spent an hour setting things up and kneading the dough. I think that I solved the problem of how to keep the dough warm during the rising stage by filling two hot water bottles with boiled sea water and putting them in the oven before the kneading process. Both the yeast and flour are over a year old, and I didn't measure anything, so I wasn't sure what the result would be. The butter was from Argentina but still tasted OK. After I put the dough in the oven to rise I checked our position and at 9.30 AM we were 400 miles from Cape Town.
At noon our position was 35S31, 010E51, giving us a n-n distance of 44 miles to the east. The barometer had fallen 8 points to 1018 HPa. We were now 390 miles from Cape Town. We were running before a 20 kt WNW wind and I had just reduced sail for a more comfortable ride. Our speed was now about 4.5 kts.
The bread came out very good. I got into trouble because I had prepared too much - more than 1 kg of flour went into it - and at the first rising it overflowed the big square pan that I was using. It wasn't the most beautiful loaf that I have baked but it was light and had a thick brown crust on top. Naturally I helped myself to a large piece of it while it was still warm, and it was delicious. The important thing was that the yeast and the flour proved to be OK.
I began the passage by transmitting my blogs at around midnight. As we approached SA I was able to send them at about 7 PM. The propagation matrix now tells me that I should be able to transmit during the afternoons using the higher frequencies, so I plan to try that now (2 PM) in the hopes of getting faster transmission rates, particularly on receiving. If this is the last entry in this blog then it means that the early time worked out OK.
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Day 33 - Becalmed and Relaxing
I woke up just before midnight to see the new year in with a cup of wine and good wishes for all.
It's just as well too, because I found the boat to be creeping NNE before a light wind because somehow Jeff had lost control in the changing wind. I took the wheel and put the boat hard to weather which put us on a more acceptable course of 065T. I let the autopilot do the steering for a while but after it went on standby (No damage: the boat steers itself upwind as it yaws upwind then falls back when the headsail luffs.) I put Jeff back in charge. We were at 35S36, too far north for my liking, but I expected that to change soon.
I had another Sailmail session because the download speed had been too slow at the 7 PM session, and I did get a much faster transfer rate.
The latest grib file indicated slack wind during the coming day, followed by the return of the westerlies. I would drop the mainsail during the calm and then resume the downwind sailing under headsail, working my way toward the south. During the lull I would run the engine not only to charge the batteries and gain ground, but also to run the heater and dry out some of these clothes in the cabin.
I received a message from Jeanne Socrates full of great information regarding the approaches to Cape Town, the RCYC marina, and recommendations for various contractors for work and parts that will be needed for the boat.
She gave me the following disturbing information about the RCYC: "If you stay at RCYC any length of time over the summer, your rigging, lines, sails, mast and everything on deck will be smothered in a line of thick, black grime on its SE face - almost impossible to remove!! From sandblasting operations in industrial area close by, upwind of strong SE'er... A major problem with RCYC and one which many a cruiser has complained bitterly about - having discovered it too late!!! Another reason many people prefer the quiet and cleanliness of Simon's Town and the FBYC!" I would be particularly worried about that grime settling into the rigging swages and setting off galvanic corrosion. I'm not sure how to handle this one. I don't want to make any decision regarding RCYC until I have had a chance to see the situation for myself and discussed it with the marina management, but it may be prudent to start getting more information on the FBYC and Simons Town.
If Jeanne meant "90W" instead of "09W" she was at 51S, 90W, 860 miles NW of the Horn. It worried me to read that she is having to deal with something that I didn't have to contend with during my rounding: pack ice around the Horn and Diego Ramirez. This will cause her to wisely stay "well offshore".
At 2 AM the boat was plodding along at 3.5 kts into a gentle wind over a calm sea. It was quite pleasant being in the cockpit, with the sea illuminated by the bright half moon and plenty of stars overhead. I would have to stay vigilant for the rest of the night because the wind was steadily weakening.
The night turned out to be short. I went topside at 3.15 AM for a last look around before retiring and to the east dawn was breaking, and it was a nice sight to see.
I was up at 6.15 AM for the early SAMMNet session and found the boat still making way but with the sails slatting as the boat rolled. I had a good session with SAMMNet. The "missing" boat that was the object of the previous morning's securite had reported in. Graham gave me advice on approaching Cape Town. Because of the fast current I should begin my run up the coast from south of Cape Point which is at 34.3S, 18.5E. I will certainly take that advice, and I took comfort from the fact that 34.3S is about 100 miles north of the 36S I was planning on. Toward the end of the conversation I asked Graham if Cape Naval was still broadcasting weather faxes and I could almost hear him sigh. He told me that the weather fax transmissions have stopped and he has had no response from several inquiries about it. I cannot understand the behavior of Brazil and S.A. in this matter. The weather faxes are already being produced by the weather service, right? It seems to me that digitizing and transmitting the charts should be an almost totally automatic process requiring minimal human resources. Finally, Graham suggested that I should be well within range of Sam's coastal weather service so I will try to work with him in the future.
Immediately after the session I dropped the mainsail and rolled in the headsail. After tidying up I started the engine and turned on the Red Dot heater. Soon the cabin was like a sauna. I hung 3 of the heavier garments outside. After 3 hours of running I shut the engine down and allowed the boat to drift ahull.
At noon our position was 35S30, 009E58. Somehow we had manage to eke out a n-n distance of 82 miles in the direction 076T, precisely in the direction of Cape Town, now 430 miles away. The barometer was steady at 1026 HPa. There was how bright sunshine and I had hung out the washing to complete it drying. I had the cabin hatch open.
In the afternoon I did a fuel transfer and topped the diesel tanks to the brim. There was already plenty of fuel in the internal tanks but I wanted to resolve a problem that I had just noticed. Part of the cap of one of the 23.5 liter containers had broken off exposing a thin vent tube of some sort leading into the fuel. That meant that the fuel had probably been contaminated with water but I wanted to make sure, and the sooner the better. I set everything up for the fuel transfer then brought the container into the cockpit and had a look at the fuel. I could not see bubbles of water floating in the fuel, but on the other hand the container was only half full, which explains why I had been smelling diesel fuel for several days in the high wind. I decided that 12 liters of diesel was not worth the risk and worry of contaminating the boat's fuel supply so I wrote it off and brought down another container. This one had that beautiful ultra high quality diesel that I had purchased at a filling station in Mar del Plata and the tanks took 20 liters of it, all strained through the Baja filter of course. When entering the fuel data into the log I noted that the engine was now at 350.0 hours and I had done the last oil and filter change in Mar del Plata at 235.5 hours, meaning that it has been 114.5 hours of running since the last oil change. Given that the manual stipulates an oil change at 500 hours or 1 year, I see no urgency in an oil change in Cape Town, but knowing me I'll probably do one.
It was a brilliantly sunny day and there was no spray about so I decided to wash more clothes, which I did and hung up on the life lines. That meant that all of my underclothes and three sets of trousers had been washed.
Then it was time to wash myself and I had a deluxe cockpit bath - my first bath in weeks - complete with a kettle of hot water and a shampoo of head and beard with Pert Plus shampoo that contains conditioner. Afterwards I went to the head and combed my damp hair then trimmed my moustache with a pair of scissors and comb. Wow, what a transformation! I had scrubbed up very well indeed. I then returned to the cabin and put a complete set of fresh clothes, all dry and clean and sweet smelling. I then had an ice cold beer in the cockpit enjoying the blue ocean around me. (It doesn't take much to make a lone sailor happy.) This was my first "day off" since the gale on the approach to Tristan da Cunha and I was enjoying it very much. What luxury to be able to relax and not worry about the situation. It was fitting that I had been rewarded with this on New Years Day. I would have an early meal, watch a movie, then go to bed without a care in the world. If I got up during the night and noticed a useful wind I would grumble and set sail, but if it didn't happen that would suit me just fine and I would dive back into my bunk.
When I went to light the stove to prepare the evening meal I saw that the gas detector was in alarm mode. It must have sensed the diesel fumes during the fuel transfer from the sensor located in the lazarette. I reset the unit and this time it detected no fumes. That gas detector, with a sensor in the galley and another one in the lazarette where the gas cylinders are housed, is a wonderful piece of equipment that ensures that I don't get blown sky high by a gas leak. Once in Geographe Bay, Western Australia, the gas detector alarmed several times from the lazarette sensor. I eventually investigated and there really was a gas leak from one of the screw-on fittings. Without the detector the gas would have worked its way into the bilge because it is heavier than air, built up through the sole into the cabin, then with the first spark it would have been Adios Amigo - y Amiga, because Brenda was with me. Don't leave home without it.
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It's just as well too, because I found the boat to be creeping NNE before a light wind because somehow Jeff had lost control in the changing wind. I took the wheel and put the boat hard to weather which put us on a more acceptable course of 065T. I let the autopilot do the steering for a while but after it went on standby (No damage: the boat steers itself upwind as it yaws upwind then falls back when the headsail luffs.) I put Jeff back in charge. We were at 35S36, too far north for my liking, but I expected that to change soon.
I had another Sailmail session because the download speed had been too slow at the 7 PM session, and I did get a much faster transfer rate.
The latest grib file indicated slack wind during the coming day, followed by the return of the westerlies. I would drop the mainsail during the calm and then resume the downwind sailing under headsail, working my way toward the south. During the lull I would run the engine not only to charge the batteries and gain ground, but also to run the heater and dry out some of these clothes in the cabin.
I received a message from Jeanne Socrates full of great information regarding the approaches to Cape Town, the RCYC marina, and recommendations for various contractors for work and parts that will be needed for the boat.
She gave me the following disturbing information about the RCYC: "If you stay at RCYC any length of time over the summer, your rigging, lines, sails, mast and everything on deck will be smothered in a line of thick, black grime on its SE face - almost impossible to remove!! From sandblasting operations in industrial area close by, upwind of strong SE'er... A major problem with RCYC and one which many a cruiser has complained bitterly about - having discovered it too late!!! Another reason many people prefer the quiet and cleanliness of Simon's Town and the FBYC!" I would be particularly worried about that grime settling into the rigging swages and setting off galvanic corrosion. I'm not sure how to handle this one. I don't want to make any decision regarding RCYC until I have had a chance to see the situation for myself and discussed it with the marina management, but it may be prudent to start getting more information on the FBYC and Simons Town.
If Jeanne meant "90W" instead of "09W" she was at 51S, 90W, 860 miles NW of the Horn. It worried me to read that she is having to deal with something that I didn't have to contend with during my rounding: pack ice around the Horn and Diego Ramirez. This will cause her to wisely stay "well offshore".
At 2 AM the boat was plodding along at 3.5 kts into a gentle wind over a calm sea. It was quite pleasant being in the cockpit, with the sea illuminated by the bright half moon and plenty of stars overhead. I would have to stay vigilant for the rest of the night because the wind was steadily weakening.
The night turned out to be short. I went topside at 3.15 AM for a last look around before retiring and to the east dawn was breaking, and it was a nice sight to see.
I was up at 6.15 AM for the early SAMMNet session and found the boat still making way but with the sails slatting as the boat rolled. I had a good session with SAMMNet. The "missing" boat that was the object of the previous morning's securite had reported in. Graham gave me advice on approaching Cape Town. Because of the fast current I should begin my run up the coast from south of Cape Point which is at 34.3S, 18.5E. I will certainly take that advice, and I took comfort from the fact that 34.3S is about 100 miles north of the 36S I was planning on. Toward the end of the conversation I asked Graham if Cape Naval was still broadcasting weather faxes and I could almost hear him sigh. He told me that the weather fax transmissions have stopped and he has had no response from several inquiries about it. I cannot understand the behavior of Brazil and S.A. in this matter. The weather faxes are already being produced by the weather service, right? It seems to me that digitizing and transmitting the charts should be an almost totally automatic process requiring minimal human resources. Finally, Graham suggested that I should be well within range of Sam's coastal weather service so I will try to work with him in the future.
Immediately after the session I dropped the mainsail and rolled in the headsail. After tidying up I started the engine and turned on the Red Dot heater. Soon the cabin was like a sauna. I hung 3 of the heavier garments outside. After 3 hours of running I shut the engine down and allowed the boat to drift ahull.
At noon our position was 35S30, 009E58. Somehow we had manage to eke out a n-n distance of 82 miles in the direction 076T, precisely in the direction of Cape Town, now 430 miles away. The barometer was steady at 1026 HPa. There was how bright sunshine and I had hung out the washing to complete it drying. I had the cabin hatch open.
In the afternoon I did a fuel transfer and topped the diesel tanks to the brim. There was already plenty of fuel in the internal tanks but I wanted to resolve a problem that I had just noticed. Part of the cap of one of the 23.5 liter containers had broken off exposing a thin vent tube of some sort leading into the fuel. That meant that the fuel had probably been contaminated with water but I wanted to make sure, and the sooner the better. I set everything up for the fuel transfer then brought the container into the cockpit and had a look at the fuel. I could not see bubbles of water floating in the fuel, but on the other hand the container was only half full, which explains why I had been smelling diesel fuel for several days in the high wind. I decided that 12 liters of diesel was not worth the risk and worry of contaminating the boat's fuel supply so I wrote it off and brought down another container. This one had that beautiful ultra high quality diesel that I had purchased at a filling station in Mar del Plata and the tanks took 20 liters of it, all strained through the Baja filter of course. When entering the fuel data into the log I noted that the engine was now at 350.0 hours and I had done the last oil and filter change in Mar del Plata at 235.5 hours, meaning that it has been 114.5 hours of running since the last oil change. Given that the manual stipulates an oil change at 500 hours or 1 year, I see no urgency in an oil change in Cape Town, but knowing me I'll probably do one.
It was a brilliantly sunny day and there was no spray about so I decided to wash more clothes, which I did and hung up on the life lines. That meant that all of my underclothes and three sets of trousers had been washed.
Then it was time to wash myself and I had a deluxe cockpit bath - my first bath in weeks - complete with a kettle of hot water and a shampoo of head and beard with Pert Plus shampoo that contains conditioner. Afterwards I went to the head and combed my damp hair then trimmed my moustache with a pair of scissors and comb. Wow, what a transformation! I had scrubbed up very well indeed. I then returned to the cabin and put a complete set of fresh clothes, all dry and clean and sweet smelling. I then had an ice cold beer in the cockpit enjoying the blue ocean around me. (It doesn't take much to make a lone sailor happy.) This was my first "day off" since the gale on the approach to Tristan da Cunha and I was enjoying it very much. What luxury to be able to relax and not worry about the situation. It was fitting that I had been rewarded with this on New Years Day. I would have an early meal, watch a movie, then go to bed without a care in the world. If I got up during the night and noticed a useful wind I would grumble and set sail, but if it didn't happen that would suit me just fine and I would dive back into my bunk.
When I went to light the stove to prepare the evening meal I saw that the gas detector was in alarm mode. It must have sensed the diesel fumes during the fuel transfer from the sensor located in the lazarette. I reset the unit and this time it detected no fumes. That gas detector, with a sensor in the galley and another one in the lazarette where the gas cylinders are housed, is a wonderful piece of equipment that ensures that I don't get blown sky high by a gas leak. Once in Geographe Bay, Western Australia, the gas detector alarmed several times from the lazarette sensor. I eventually investigated and there really was a gas leak from one of the screw-on fittings. Without the detector the gas would have worked its way into the bilge because it is heavier than air, built up through the sole into the cabin, then with the first spark it would have been Adios Amigo - y Amiga, because Brenda was with me. Don't leave home without it.
----------
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