Morocco

Saturday 10th November

Yesterday we crossed a direct line which ships use to enter and leave the Med. Once again, the AIS was a must.

Today was a quiet day, The night watches followed by some motoring. By late afternoon we were sailing again. A beam reach and 6 knots speed over ground. As the evening drew in, the wind increased further and we started reefing the genoa. By my first watch at midnight we had a steady 25 knots which increased well beyond 30 knots by the time John and then Louise came on later.

By my second watch at 08:00, the seas was well up. Nobody had slept much and, as easily as Chelone cut through the big seas, there was lots of creaking, bottles clanking and so on.

John made a cup of hot, sweet tea and poured it over the side. This was Remberence Sunday, and it was suggested that this was a fitting gift in memory of past sailors lost.

By the end of the day we were all very pleased to tie up in the marina at Mohammedia. It was surprisingly cold for Morocco, fleece weather. The standard of the marina was, er, ......Moroccan. Small pontoons, poor water quality, fishing boats all round. The shower was warmish, with a pungent odour.

The customs guys boarded us immediately, and went through the ship's papers and those of her 5 crew. They were amiable enough.

I loved it. It is different and exotic, and quite adequate. Susie cooked a delicious tuna savoury and Louise a surprisingly good jam sponge with custard.

La Coruna to Cascais

Sunday 4th November
The forecast for Saturday was still for strong Westerlies. One of the problems, I now realise, in not rounding the corner at the Northwest point of Spain, was that it then becomes difficult with any wind with much West in it. We finally got away around 07:30 on Sunday.

John settled the bill at the marina office, but there seemed to be a query over a bill for laundry use. We wheeled out our big guns and sent Louise and Susie up to talk to the young lad in the office. I feared for him, but saw him later, so he was still alive.

We motored into big swells, Chelone slamming into the waves. As we turned the corner by degree, the wind backed and stayed on the nose, so we kept on motoring.

Louise said cheerio to her breakfast, ironically a bowl of Cheerios. A sacrifice to Neptune. Ross and I stayed on watch as the others slept and we approached Cape Finisterre. Within 5 minutes, the wind increased from 17 knots to 29 knots, gusting over 30 as a rain squall hit.

John cooked pasta and Susie served it with pesto and cheese. John then decided that we'd pull into a marina at Muras(Muxia) around 13 miles SE Cape Finisterre. I'd rather have kept going, but by 23:30, We were tied up and had a good night's sleep. I can't comment on the facilities, but there was plenty of depth, shelter and room.

83 miles

We left the marina at 10:45 and resumed our journey. Louise spotted her second sunfish, Susie made lunch and I cooked a vegetable curry and left it to marinade until evening. The sea was now slight, the winds light, and veering around to the North. Bright sunshine filled Chelone as we eased Southwards, the sounds of Fleetwood Mac's Rumours playing, as I enjoyed Thor Heyerdahl's Kon Tiki expedition, imagining myself one of Kon Tiki's crew as they crossed their own ocean 70 odd years ago. I'd probably struggle with the sun bleached hair, bronzed skin and athletic physique of the Norwegians, but I might yet manage the beard.....

Tuesday 6th November
The curry went down well. Mild for myself, John and Susie, hot for Louise and Ross. Not enough salt for Susie and John, plenty for the other three. It averaged out well.

Watches at night start around 20:00 hrs and run until 10:00 the next morning. John, Louise, Ross and myself take 2 hours on, 6 hours off. 2 watches a night, one watch a night every forth night. In terms of shipping, there's far less off Portugal than Biscay, though perhaps more fishing boats. They appear and dissapear on the AIS screen, usually trawling at 3.5 knots. John says they sometimes switch off their AIS to hide the best spots from competitors.

The cargo ships usually steam at around 10-12 knots to Chelone's 5-7 knots. By comparison, Oceana was travelling at 20. A closing speed of around 27 knots would see a 5 mile gap covered in around 11 minutes, so good watchkeeping is essential.

As we sail Southwards down the Portuguese coast, the water gets ever bluer. The thermal clothes have gone - it's t-shirts during the day and fleeces at night. John has a fishing line out, and the three crew on deck eye each other nervously at each brief clicking of the reel. Shaw, Dreyfuss and Schneider-like, Ross and I hear comments such as 'we're gonna need a bigger boat'.

My money is on cup a soup for lunch, rather than seared tuna steaks.......


Wednesday 7th November

We didn't have cup a soup, but we didn't have tuna either. The fishing reel remained eerily silent as John set up the monitor wind vane. He fiddled with it for an hour or so and then, when satisfied, explained its use to Louise, Ross and Myself. It guided us dutifully down the Portuguese coast until after sunset. Susie cooked steaks for the meat eaters and Louise did some lovely fajitas for the two of us.

The watches past without drama until some strong winds, up to 38 knots, caught John around 4am. Louise and I got up and between the three of us we dropped the main and moored Chelone alongside the marina office around 05:00.

After a couple of hours sleep, we split into groups and wandered off. A miserable grey drizzle came and went. Louise and I had some fresh bread, local olives, goat's and sheep's cheese, plum tomatoes, onions and olive oil. Simple Mediterranean fayre that I never tire of.

Marina Cascais was E21 per night for Chelone. Good showers, a mini market open until 18:00, and numerous shops and bars within 2-3 minutes of the pontoons. Wifi was, and there is a pattern emerging here, patchy.

The town is delightful. Cobblestoned streets, fortifications, palm trees, many small shops selling all sorts of things, including cork based goods. It fronts onto a small sandy beach with dozens of moorings, each holding a tiny lobster fishing boat. A beautiful place..

249 miles

A few days in Spain

Thursday 1st November

Peaceful, easy day. A relaxed morning. Coffee and porridge after rising at a very civilised 08:30. Louise and Susie took some clothes to the launderette. I quickly checked Wiki for things to do and see in La Coruna. The Torres de Hercules, a Roman lighthouse caught my eye.

I went up to see the marina manager, an amiable chap I have dubbed Manuel. I wanted to learn a bit of Spanish. I asked him for a map, which he supplied. There then followed 10 minutes of me trying to ask him what the Spanish word for map was. Eventually he got it and replied 'mapa' in a monotone voice. Deflated at such a meagre return for so much effort, I left.

Around 14:00, John, Susie, Ross, Louise and myself jumped into a taxi, paid 5 euros and took a trip to the lighthouse.

I loved it. Julius Caeser visited the area in AD 31 and it was amazing to think that Roman galleys may have sailed the same waters we sailed over yesterday. Just inside, you could see the ancient footings, including 2000 year old concrete.

The tower itself was refaced with granite in 1788, but inside, all the stonework was Roman. Ross, Louise and I climbed to the top and stared out over the now raging sea. A thoroughly enjoyable visit. The five of us then walked back to the boat via a supermarket. Louise and I had fresh crusty bread, allioli (Spanish garlic mayonnaise), roasted peppers in olive oil and fresh tomatoes. A lovely afternoon.

Darsena de la marina is fine. 32 euros a night for a 12m boat. Clean toilets and nice showers, friendly staff, a bar with reasonable prices and less than 5 minutes to walk to the centre of town.

Friday 2nd November.
Oceana arrived during the night; our second meeting. She towered above us. Her hordes filed off, wandered around for a bit and then filed back on again. Not my idea of travel at all. The folk aboard had just 6 hours ashore in total, hardly enough to get more than a tiny taste of the place.

Louise, Ross and myself took a walk around town later, and had fresh bread, olives etc. for lunch.

Then we readied the boat for a possible early departure tomorrow, checking the engine, filling water and so on. Cascais is a possible next stop, approximately 320 nm, just over 2 days away.

One thing that struck me more than anything about La Corunna was the feel of the place. Even at 10pm on a Friday night, whole families filled the squares, eating, drinking, the kids playing in the streets. No gangs of drunken youths and no threatening feeling that one might encounter in any British town on a Friday night. It was really happy, laid back, just nice.

First few days

547 miles


Saturday
We finally left Neyland at 10:21 on Saturday. All of us were desperate to get away after the ups and downs of the last few days. I helmed Chelone down the Haven and we raised the mainsail. Free at last!

Soon we were passing St Annes head and let out the Genoa. With Southwesterlies forecast for Sunday night, we headed out on a course to give us as much Westing as possible. Wind NE force 5.

Very comfortable. We were 42 miles NW of St Marys in the Scillies by my watch at 01:00 Sunday. During the day we kept watch together, but at night we kept strict watches of 2hrs each.

I loved it. Yes, I was tired, but we were at sea, after so much anticipation.

It was overcast on Sunday and the wind backed and strengthened. We put a reef in the main and soon started seeing 25 knots and more, now Westerly, now Southwesterly.

We were 100 miles and more to the West of Ushant as our course took us SE into Biscay, close hauled, the occasional 30  knots appearing. By my 05:30 watch on Monday there was water over the gunwhales and occasionally into the cockpit. I could barely make out the lights on the fishing boats weaving around us and they kept disappearing from our AIS screen and then appearing again just a mile away, hidden by the swells.

I was knackered by now and slept until after midday. When I got up it was all change. Wind down to F3 and sunny. Container ships made their way past and it was warm enough not to need a jacket.

As the day wore on the wind dropped and dropped and was just 5 knots as we motored into a balmy evening. I cooked tortellini in a sauce of onions, garlic, courgettes, peppers an basil in olive oil. Seemed to go down well.

My watches that night were 20:00-22:00 and 04:00 -0600. Biscay was now benign, flat with just 3 knots of wind and a full moon.

Tuesday

Ships passed to the west of us heading South and to the east of us heading North. Chelone has AIS which was extremely useful. It was simple enough to find the course and direction of each ship and take the necessary action.

The other benefit of the AIS was the fact that they could see us, and we could watch them change direction. Knowing the name of the ship also meant we got a friendly response when we called them on VHF, often just to ask if they could see us, our lights, radar reflection or AIS signal. The AIS system on Chelone is Transas m4b. as well as ouputting to chartplotter via nmea, it talks to a pc, through usb ports. Using the free OpenCPN charting system, we thus had full backup. Opencpn can also overlay grib files, another good point.

Chelone also has an icom hf radio, which we used in conjunction with a program called Mscan meteo to get weather faxes. Left on all night, we had a full set of charts going forward 96 hours or more, ready to view in the morning.

Great fun this morning. The cruise ship Oceana passed to our starboard side.

John couldnt resist calling her on vhf. They were more than happy to give us a weather report and even send an email on our behalf. The forecast was not good. 4-5m swells and 25 knots from the South West for tomorrow night (Wednesday). The rest of the day passed slowly. I made a potato and leek soup, which went down well. A couple of hours before sunset we raised the staysail which gave us another hallf knot, pushing Chelone's speed over 7 knots. It was a high point for me too, the first time I'd sailed a cutter rig.

With just 8 knots of wind from the Northeast, my 22:00 watch was easy. By my second watch at 06:00, I was knackered again, but, as the sun rose, a golden ball in the SouthEast, I caught my first glimpse of Spain. We'd crossed Biscay. The weather was taking a turn for the worst, though, with 30 knot Westerlies forecast for the evening on Wednesday. We hoped we could get around the corner to Bayonne, on Spain's West coast before then, but had a fallback plan of La Coruna, on the North coast, if that failed.

By 10:00 the wind was a steady 13 knots SE. Just three hours later though, it suddenly increased to 20 knots from the SW. It was clear within 1/2 hour that we were not going to make Bayonne. We turned and enjoyed a lovely downwind sail into La Corunna, tying up in Darsenna marina at 18:00, in time for a beer.

Chelone floats!

Apologies for the delay on this post. I managed to type the title in on my phone a couple of days back, but I could not get it to accept any text......

Friday morning. The alarm went off at 05:45. A quick coffee and Louise, Tigger and myself piled into the camper van and headed off down to Pembroke dock to watch Chelone being launched. An hour and a half or so later, on a cool damp October morning, we approached the boat, hanging on straps in the launching cradle.

John turned up soon after, and before we knew it, the driver of the launch cradle was moving Chelone towards the slip. Around 16 tonnes of expensive sailing boat, dangling by a couple of nylon straps.

Just before going in, I grabbed a tin of antifoul and painted over the places where the pads of her cradle had been. I could only just reach.

A few minutes later she inched her way down the slip and into the cold waters of the Haven, at just about the top of the tide.

And that was that. Engine on, a short trip of about 50 yards and she was tied up on the pontoon.

Then we split up. The boat needed to be taken a couple of miles down river, to Neyland Marina. Our van, John's car and Ross' (the other crew member) car were parked at Pembroke dock. Someone needed to drive a car across the Cleddau bridge to Neyland Marina. I really wanted Louise to go with the boat - she's worked so hard these last few months, so many night shifts, putting money in the bank so we could afford to go. I jumped in John's car with Tigger and we drove the 15 minutes to the marina, leaving John, Louise and Ross to take the luxury trip.

As is usual when relaunching a boat, there were many checks to carry out. With a new engine, too, John spent an hour or so tightening glands, checking water and oil pressures and so on. Tigger and I were not that bothered, and, soon enough, I saw Chelone coming down river,

under the Cleddau bride and turning into Neyland Marina.

Louise was at the helm!

I was very surprised. She waved at me and didn't seem at all nervous. John then took over, and expertly turned Chelone around before going astern into her pontoon berth. Louise and Ross tied her up and they let Tigger and me in through the marina gate.

I had thought that was that, but there were still a few jobs that needed doing. The dinghy had been in John's garage for 18 months, so I set about scrubbing that. Louise did a bit of sewing on the sprayhood, and did some cleaning on deck, helped, or rather, watched, by Tigger.

Chelone's teak decks look beautiful in the sunshine. Tigger looks less happy. I wonder if he knows he won't be coming with us, and will, in fact, be parted from us for over 2 months, the longest time by far in the 10 years or so since we had him.

We spent Saturday evening in the van. Unfortunately, the leisure battery had given up the ghost, so we drank a few glasses of wine by candle light. we managed to get a new battery in Haverfordwest on Saturday. John and Suzie, the fifth crew member, had arranged a lunch at Neyland marina, and kindly bought us all a meal. Suzie's parents were also there, and a friend, Steve, as well as John's mother.

That evening, we went to Dale. Louise, Tigger and I walked up to WestDale beach. Then we had a bit of fun. We found a large (2ft by 2ft) block of a yellowish waxy substance washed up on the beach. I told Louise it might have been ambergris. When we got back to the van, she looked it up. Once she realised its potential value, she decided that she must go and get some. Now. She set off with a rucksack, hammers, knives and so on.

By now it was getting dark.



An hour later she came back up the steep cliff path, puffing and sweating, her rucksack full of the stuff. It didn't have the musty odour of ambergris. It didn't contain embedded squid beaks like ambergris does. It didn't burn with a smoky flame like ambergris doe, either. It was wax. We were not millionaires.

The following morning, I took a picture of Louise with her 'treasure'

So. Now we wait. John wants to do a 'shake down' sail and practice man overboard drill, and we need to pack the boat properly, but we just wait. The weather for Biscay does not look good at the moment, but may improve this week. It's strange. We can't wait to set off, and we know we will, but, as each day passes, we wonder when that will be.

So, we wait.

Working on Chelone

Last week, it was up at seven, walk to Stromness Harbour and go diving in Scapa Flow. This week it's up at seven, drive to Pembroke dock, work on the yacht that will soon be on it's way across Biscay.

John, the skipper had a list. I was given a tin of varnish and a brush

Whilst Louise was given various cleaning duties, and started packing some of our things into our cabin in the Forepeak. She appeared to be enjoying working on the boat.

John has been very busy whilst we've been in Scotland, and Chelone is just a few cosmetic jobs away from being ready to tackle Biscay and the Atlantic. She may be in the water as early as Friday, with a shake down sail for us all planned soon. There is even a possibility of us leaving port on Sunday, so we watch each weather forecast with a keen interest.

So, sanding, three coats of varnish, cleaning, scrubbing, refitting metalwork removed for sanding, and the day flew past. Another crew member, Ross, joined us around 4pm, after finishing work on one of the Range boats.

Louise and I left at 17:00. A brief stop to walk Tigger, who'd been very patient all day, at Carew Castle.

And we watched a Heron and a couple of shags hunting fish which swam up the river with the oncoming tide, as the sun set.

More radio

It took us a while to get our heads around the full complexity of communications available on a yacht. So many frequencies. So many services. So many courses.

We currently use a marine VHF set. We have a ships license, and did our operators license many years ago, as part of our dive courses. VHF is fine for short distance communications, around 30 miles or so.

Using our short wave receiver, we were also able to receive transmissions from further afield, as detailed earlier

 http://ishtaryacht.blogspot.co.uk/2012/07/receiving-weather-information-using.html

but we wanted to go further. We looked at the Long Range Certificate for marine use, and will probably do this next year (it costs around £300 each, and is a four day course plus the exam). Many, many sailors, though, use the amateurs radio bands, also known as HAM radio. There are a great many people out there who specialise in communicating long distance via amateur radio, and many 'cruisers nets' in various parts of the world who discuss weather, routing and other information in their part of the world.

We looked at the Radio Society of Great Britain (RSGB) website and, through them, contacted Jerry, at Pencoed Amateur Radio club.

http://www.rsgb.org/clubsandtraining/

http://www.mw0prg.co.uk

They were very friendly, and, through them we found out the following information.

There are three levels to the RSGB exams in the UK. Foundation, Intermediate and Full. Pencoed club were prepared to help us to train for each of the exams, and, if we passed, we'd get a certificate to present to Offcom to gain our amateur radio license.

To use an Amateur Radio on board a yacht, in tidal waters in the UK, one needs to gain a full license. Louise and I talked about it and decided that we'd like to do it. We bagan studying for the foundation license immediately. Each week we would attend the club, have a lecture (with a fine gentleman caled Don) about frequencies, antennas, transceivers and so on, and do some sample questions for the exam. After about 6 weeks, we both turned up at the club, were shown into a prepared room with a clock, the exam papers from the RSGB were removed from sealed envelopes and we worked our way through 26 multiple choice exam questions, with the pass mark at 19 questions answered correctly.

We both passed first time. Although delighted, the Foundation level is quite easy. Indeed, someone at the club was telling me that the youngest person to pass it was aged 5! we started the Intermediate level straight away afterwards - Don tells us it should be around 12 weeks or so before we are ready for the exam.

The intermediate level course is far more in depth. As well as the theory of different types of radio, Single side band, FM, morse code, antenna theory and so on, we have to study basic electronics and, even, build simple receivers and transmitters using resistors, inductors, capacitors, diodes and so on.

All going well, we should be ready for the Intermediate examination in a few weeks. After that, we expect to spend the winter preparing for the Full license examination. With a bit of luck and a following wind, we will be able to use an amateur radio set aboard Ishtar, and talk to people all over the world, by the time we start sailing next season.

We're currently looking at buying our first HF (High Frequency) transceiver, which, although we won't be able to install aboard Ishtar until we have our full license, we will be able to use at home, getting used to all th efrequencies, settings and calling people over long distances.

Montreal rock revisited

Musing on the name Montreal rock, and the fact that two nearby buoys, the Dakotian and Behar buoys were named after shipwrecks, I wondered whether the rock took its name from a ship that sank after hitting it. I found little information on the brief search I did, but I contacted a friend, the author Tom Bennett, who has written many books on Shipwrecks in Wales, and also the excellent

Sea Guide to Pembrokeshire

Tom pointed out that, during the early development of Milford Haven, it was proposed that the port may be used on the London-Montreal steamer service. Indeed, in the late 1920s and 1930s, a steamer called the Calgaric, of the White star line, was stationed at Milford in a sea ready state, and later used on the London to Montreal route. Tom postulates that maybe the liner anchored near the rock, which took its name when local people referred to the 'Montreal Steamer'.

It could be accurate, or there could be another reason entirely for the enigmatic Montreal Rock. Amazing what can come to light when one looks at a buoy and starts to ask questions though........

The British Summer Returns

We'd planned to just spend the weekend messing about once we got Ishtar to Dale. Louise wanted to get some practice just sailing from place to place and dropping the anchor for a short wait before setting off again. We headed just around the corner from Dale to castlebeach bay, where she set the anchor perfectly, before taking Tigger ashore to inspect the beach for sticks, and have a swim.

She'd spotted a small tear in the mainsail on the way around, so quickly set about sewing that



before hauling the anchor and setting off for a short sail across to Sandy Haven bay. Once more she set the anchor before the tell tale patter of raindrops on Ishtar's topsides began. I was surprised, but Louise was not. She told me that the forecast was for very heavy rain - the forecast I'd seen had given light winds and fair weather.

Within an hour, Ishtar was starting to bounce around. We had considered sailing through the port and up river to spend the night at Llangwm, but a look outsaide showed that the rain was so heavy, the visibility was down to around 100m. We set off for Dale.

We quickly realised that we should have gone back sooner, as we rounded Great Castle Head. The wind indicator was showing 28-30 knot gusts from the West, blowing hard pointy rain drops into our faces. With the current against us too, we motored, making only around 2 knots, and it took us nearly an hour to get back to Dale - a very unpleasant trip indeed.

This was further compounded when we got to the mooring to find that one of our two mooring lines had sunk, meaning that I was forced to sit in the dinghy, bucking in the rough seas, fishing about under the bouy until I found it.

By the time we got below, I was soaked to the skin, and freezing cold.

Louise made some sausages, mash, broad beans, peas and gravy, followed by cheeesecake and a bottle of wine. By about 9pm, the bad weather had passed, and it looked like we might get a good night's sleep.

Nope. As I lay drifting off in the forecabin around midnight, I could feel the wind getting up again. This time the boat started jumping around far more energetically, to the point where I started to feel sick. I very rarely get sick on a boat. I realised that the wind was now blowing straight down the Haven from the East. An hour later the screeching of the wind was as loud as I've heard when aboard, and we spend a very uncomfortable night indeed, and woke bleary eyed, the remains of the gale hampering the racing yachts efforts to get out and sail.

It had calmed down almost completely by 11 o'clock, but we were both knackered and, with Louise working, and plenty of wet clothes to dry, we called it quits and set off home. 

After a bit of a gap

....not having been to the boat for 5 or 6 weeks after I fell in the garden and tore ankle ligaments,

we finally got back to Ishtar and moved her from a mooring at Llangwm down river 15 miles to our own mooring at Dale.

Louise wanted to do this trip through the busy port of Milford Haven single handed, so I took Tigger in the car and went for a few walks, while she did just that.

Over to Louise.....
The first thing I had to sort out when I got onto Ishtar was a small tree trunk that had attached itself to the mooring.  Unfortunately the current was too strong due to the 7.3m tide and I had to leave it.

I got myself ready and cast off.  I had put the main sail up and had put the anchor out on deck with 10m of chain already cleated off just in case I had an emergency and had to stop somewhere in a hurry.  Off I went in the beautiful sunshine..... for about 20 seconds until I heard the sound of the grease hose to the stern gland rip off and hit the prop shaft.  A quick about turn, I put Ishtar back onto the mooring. 

2 hours later, up to my elbows in grease I had managed to sort the problem out and I set off again.  By now I had missed the tide and was going to be punching the incoming tide for the next few hours.

It was nerve racking doing my longest single handed motor sail and with our recent diesel problems neither of us has any confidence in our engine.  Its very unfortunate really because the engine has always performed well, all the breakdowns have been fuel related.  I was listening carefully all the time to the pitch of the engine and kept my eye on the speed, nervously watching for any hint of trouble. 

Martin had advised me to run the engine at about 2500 revs and I was doing about 3-3.5 knots.  It was all going fine until I got to Lawrenny when the speed suddenly dropped to 2.5 knots.  I expected the engine to slowly die and I had a scary moment thinking I would have to try to sail against the tide in light winds. 

Luckily it was just the effect of the current and within half a mile my speed had picked back up.
Martin was waiting at Neyland with Tigger, looking out for me. I don't know who was the most nervous, me on the boat or him watching, knowing that if anything went wrong he couldn't do anything.

I actually felt a bit more relieved once I got past the Cleddau Bridge and was into the haven as the wind picked up a little and I had a bit more room to sail if I had engine trouble.
At various points along the route I found myself thinking "what if I broke down now?".
Once I passed Neyland the wind picked up a little and I let out the genoa, I managed to pick up my speed to about 4.5 - 5 knots.  The sky looked thunderous over Milford Haven but so far I had been lucky with the weather and it stayed dry. 

Martin rang again to ask to be picked up on the pontoon at Dale.  By now I really was looking forward to getting to Dale but I still wanted to do it all myself.  I tacked towards Angle which meant I was on a good tacking angle to get to Dale.  At the visitors pontoon I decided to drop the sails and head for our mooring.  Martin had put a new riser chain on our mooring with some new tails and they were very easy to pick up.  Once on our mooring I put the anchor away, thankfully not needed, tidied the boat up a bit and put the fenders and lines ready. 

My trip was almost over as I headed off to the pontoon.  With only one other boat on the pontoon and very little wind in the shelter of the bay it was easy and straightforward to tie up on the pontoon.  Ishtar was back home, I had made it, ok a little greasy but quite pleased with myself.  The pint of cider that was quickly consumed was very welcome and I think Martin was proud and relieved to see both boat and skipper safe and sound. 

Louise.

Doing your first solo trip is always quite nerve wracking. Doing your first trip through an extremely busy port with the tide against you, an engine you have doubts about and having to sort out mechanical issues before you leave is no mean feat. I was so proud of Louise when I saw Ishtar tied up at Dale pontoon.

Tigger was less impressed. He ran down along the pontoon jumped aboard and started sniffing around for food. We opened a bottle of wine and enjoyed the sunset.

Martin

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

http://travel.yahoo.com/trip-journal-1392359-jacona

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.