Wednesday 16 May 2012

Brian's heading South

This is what we thought back in October 2010, when Brian and Sue, aboard their 33ft Moody 'Blue Bear' left the pontoon in Cardiff, about three boats away from Ishtar.

They've just arrived in New Zealand!

Amazing. Across to France, Spain, Portugal, Canary Islands, Cape Verde Islands, Caribbean, Panama Canal, a 95 day crossing to French Polynesia and on to New Zealand. All at a little above walking pace.

The full story from the start is on Cardiff Yacht Club Forum:
http://cardiffyachtclub.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=cruisinglogs&action=display&thread=931

and
http://cardiffyachtclub.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=cruisinglogs&action=display&thread=1322

Congratulations!

Monday 14 May 2012

A short weekend

Which turned out to be shorter than we'd anticipated.

Left the house at 07:00 Saturday and arrived at a quiet Llangwm around 08:30. A group of men and women were launching a Pembrokeshire long boat - out for an early morning row. This popular sport seems to be really gaining momentum, and it's a rare visit to Pembrokeshire now that we don't see one or more of them, practicising or racing. It appears to appeal to all ages, sexes and types of people too.

Louise pumped the dinghy and we puttered out to Ishtar. I realised something was wrong, straight away - one of the cushions under where I'd fitted the new winches and clutches was soaking wet. There was nothing for it but to take the headlining down and pour water on the deck until we found the leak. This would be the best part of a day's work, so we just got on with it.


Notice the loose hanging wires of the guard rail? We did too. Some fine person, it seems, had given Ishtar a clout with their boat, and driven off, leaving no note. There was not much daage - a bent pulpit and damaged navigation light, but it was more work to do to put right. I was not in a good mood by this point. The sun was shining and I wanted to be sailing down the river. Such is life, as they say.


A few hours later and we were getting things sorted. The leak turned out to be a screw hole holding the spray hood on, and I was pleased that all the work I had done had not been the cause of the leak. I managed to straighten the pulpit as best I could, trying not to fall in as I pushed and pulled at it.

By 4 o'clock we sailed off the mooring in a light North Westerly and set off down the Cleddau, it's oak lined banks were truly beautiful in the spring sunshine.


Louise trimmed the sails, following the wind as we twisted and turned our way down the river towards Milford Haven. The wind is fickle in the upper reaches of the river, and can blow and die, veer and back very quickly. Louise struggled a bit at one point, but there was no problem, and it is truly a lovely place to sail. Anyone who is lucky enough to do sail up or down the Cleddau enjoys a rare privilege.



We'd thought about tying up on the pontoon at Pembroke dock, near the yacht club. When we noticed that it had not yet been set up, however, we turned and headed back upstream.

On the way, we passed Jacona - a Nicholson 32, previously owned by a couple from Cardiff yacht club who took her across to the Caribbean and back a couple of years ago



We're hoping to meet up with that couple, Dave and Sheryn, soon, and pick their brains on the trip, doos and don'ts, their thoughts on boats for cruising and so on. More if we do.

Anyway. Some people find drifting up and down rivers at the whim of the wind, looking at trees and birds very boring indeed, and would far rather be on dry land. We tied Ishtar up when we reached Llangwm and took the dinghy ashore this beautiful, tranquil evening. 




  
Where, people who did not enjoy floating up and down rivers made their feelings at being ashore known:



Sticks were massacred. Seaweed was torn up. Mud was trampled, splashed and spattered onto people's undersides, water was swam in and panting noises were heard.

We returned to Ishtar, had a meal, drank some wine, listened to the evening turn into night, the gurgling sounds of the water as teh river passed under us, and the sounds of the wading birds heading home to roost.

Peaceful.

It was even more peaceful the following morning. Dead silent, in fact, and perhaps the calmest I've ever see the river:



There was clearly no point in trying to sail, and motoring down the river and back didn't really appeal. We did a few odd jobs aboard Ishtar, did some tidying, drank some coffe and then went ashore, taking Tigger for a walk along the wooded banks before jumping in the car and heading home.






Wednesday 9 May 2012

Struggling

Just sitting in the house. We never seem to have any free time. There is always a huge list of things to do. Every penny that comes in has to be carefully assigned to pay for some more work to be done. Will we be able to afford to do the conservatory this year, now that the attic, garage and bathroom are done? Should we pay as much as we can off the mortgage whilst the rates are so low, and leave spending on the house until we've paid it off?

Meanwhile, we want to go diving. We want to go sailing. We want to go away in the van, drink wine, eat good food, enjoy ourselves. We knew it was going to be hard. We're approaching the halfway point in our plans to move to West Wales, and everything is according to budget, and going really well.

Then our friend Tom visits, from the Phillippines. It was Tom that first got us interested in sailing, and, with whom, we got our first taste of what it could be like, crusing from Italy to the Greek islands in his 44ft ketch 'Perky Puffin' in 2007:


Here was a boat that we could live on. Long term. Here was a boat that we could travel on, cheaply. I've always wanted to dive in the Pacific. Rangiroa is near the top of my list. There are so many places we want to travel to, Galapagos, South Africa, back to Sudan, and, it keeps calling me, the Pacific.

Through Tom, we met John, from Tenby. John bought a boat in America, Chelone, and sailed her back across the North Atlantic:

The next year, John sailed down through Portugal, Morocco, the Azores, across the Caribbean, past beautiful islands where we ourselves have since cruised and dived, and then back to the UK. We often pop down to Tenby to visit John - he dives, too.

Then there are Brian and Sue, on their 33ft yacht, 'Blue Bear'. They left Cardiff in October 2010, sailed  the same way as John, but then went through the Panama canal and out into the Pacific. They are currently headed for Fiji.



These are not dreams. These are not adventures one reads about in magazines. These are friends of ours.

We need a boat, a scuba compressor and some time. We have three or four years to finish messing about with houses, and then we may be able to have those things.

Meanwhile, we work, and read about others who do. We plan, and talk. It's hard, and we're struggling.

I read this, earlier today:

"We shared meals ashore and on our boat in the Marshall Islands, drank kava with groups on several islands in Fiji, played with children, sang with locals, taught school children in Indonesia, picnicked with locals in the Cook Islands,  learned how to collect shellfish and prepare them the local way  in Kiribati, traded clothes for local produce in Guadalcanal, sponsored a model outrigger canoe race in the Louisiades, and repaired a solar power system and other equipment in Tikopia. We took locals aboard from several islands for overnight fishing trips, to visit their ancestral atoll in New Caledonia, took a family for two weeks to a Melanesian Arts Festival in Vanuatu and slept on crowded ferryboat decks on the Irrawaddy River in Burma"


The countdown is well underway.