A typical summer's weekend sailing

Louise couldn't make it, so I was on my own. Well, Tigger was there, naturally. Arrived at Dale at 09:00, 7.6m tide at the top of the slip. Unloaded the car, pumped the dinghy and got absolutely soaked in the Northwesterly Force 6 blowing on the way out through the moorings. This is August, so of course the weather is awful.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Lovely weather"][/caption]

Of course it doesn't look that bad in the photo. It never does, does it? Tigger was distinctly unimpressed.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Tigger"][/caption]

Firstly, Get the boat in order. Checked the oil after the oil change last time. Fine. Refitted the winches - Louise had taken them to be rechromed, they look lovely. Also spot the new winch handle after someone had made an offering to Neptune with one last time out.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Rechromed winch and handle"][/caption]

Quite odd. The way they worked was different. The sheets still wound around the winches, and they worked fine, but the new chrome seemed to alter the way the lines fed into and out of the winches. Oh well. I'm sure there's a reason for that.

My good lady has taken to fishing. In a big way. Strange for a vegetarian, and cries of 'I'm sorry' as she despatches her catches reminds one of the native Americans, offering up prayers for their brothers as they kill wild deer and buffalo. Does it work with Mackerel? One can only presume so.

Anyway, she had wanted me to rig up an anchor we could use for fishing in slightly deeper water - our main anchor was all chain, and was far too heavy. I duly did so and that was installed, too.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Fisherwoman's anchor"][/caption]

 

Jobs done, I sailed the mile or so around into Castlebeach bay. Shelter from the Northelies for the night, and a chance to take Tigger ashore. He likes beaches. Ah, the other downside to August. Boats everywhere. I could not get to my usual anchorage, so tried closer in under the cliffs.  Our Delta anchor dragged for the first time, and when retrieved, it was clear why - thick kelp.

Sorry, Tigger. Back to the mooring, and no beach. Three times I tried to pick up the lines. Ishtar has a high freeboard, and teh bow whips around very quickly in any wind. Finally I managed it, only to drop the boat hook over the side.

Leave it, or unmoor, try and manoeuver between the other yachts in this wind and pick it up with the small boat hook? Well, I'd never know if I could do it unless I tried. I did, and it worked. I really was in smug mode, and put Ishtar back on her mooring first time. I may not have crossed the Atlantic, I have single handedly picked up my own boat hook with another. What's my prize?

Great start to the weekend. Still, the sunset was lovely, as it almost always is.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Dale Sunset"][/caption]

The Perseid meteor shower was due. I went on deck at 22:00, after a Jalferezi, with a bottle of wine and sat, staring into the starry darkness for an hour. They were supposed to be visible at a rate of 60-80 per hour. I saw 2, but that's not to say I was not chuffed. I've always loved them, and seen them many times. They will, of course, be on show over Dale many years after I won't be. A beautiful evening.

With the wind still strong Northerlies on Saturday, I left the mooring at 07:00 and headed up the river Cleddau with the tide. Intent on getting as far as our old stamping ground last year, Llangwm. The, ahem, blue skies and strong sunshine overhead.......

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Rain?"][/caption]

 

It was still lovely, and the upper reaches of the Cleddau were far more peaceful than the lower Haven. I reached Llangwm around 10:00 - a usual run of around 3 hours from Dale. The new tennant on Tom's mooring looking very pretty, bobbing in the tide. Her owner, Laurie, nowhere about, unfortunately.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Tom's mooring"][/caption]

 I borrowed a mooring, took Tigger ashore, filled some bottles of water and sat on a bench, looking out at the sunlight sparkling on the water.

I rowed back out to Ishtar, just in time to see this attractive little vessel pass by. I complimented her owner and Tigger barked at him. Barqued?

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Llangwm"][/caption]

 

The tide was now ebbing strongly. I raised the main, sailed off the mooring, unfurled the Genoa and set off after her, frantically adjusting sail for the fickle winds of the upper Cleddau. At one stage I had to wear round to avoid a sand bank, thinking of Jack Aubrey cursing at unseaworthy vessels as I did so, from the Patrick O'Brien novels and films.

Started the engine a bit lower down and was panicked momentarily s I passed under the Cleddau bridge at a very strange and worrying noise coming from the engine, until I looked overhead and noticed they were painting the bridge and the noise was coming from their grinders.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Painting the bridge"][/caption]

 

I made my way back to the mooring. A really nice sail. It does make it all seem worth it when that happens. Bad weather, getting soaking wet, the constant maintenance and costs of owning a boat, then, that warm glow at the end of the day when you realise the alternatives, several hours in your local shopping centre and endless DIY, are not for you......

A short sail on Sunday. I'd spotted a small bay between Wtch house point and Great Castle head, watch house bay. Good shelter from the North, and I spotted this fine vessel at anchor there:

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Watch house bay"][/caption]

 

Sailed around the corner into Sandy haven, and tried out the new 'Fisherwoman's anchor' at Langoar bay. It held well, and I took Tigger ashore. He found a stick. He's good at that.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Langoar, Dinghy, Ishtar behind"][/caption]

 

And so, back. Put the boat to bed, bundled all our stuff and took another soaking in the dinghy on the way back. Yes, it's August. Yes, there are too many people about for my liking, the weather is usually rubbish and sailing single handed is hard work, but if you can't enjoy just being out on a boat, in a stunningly beautiful part of the world, there is something wrong with you.

Brilliant!

Tips on choosing an anchorage

1. Don't pick one that the wind blows into.

Should have learned that lesson last year, really. A couple of rough bouncy nights at Porlock would do the trick, you'd have thought......

Weather forecast North or Northwest 2-3 backing West or Southwest 3-4. Louise wanted to go to Caerbwdi. West would be OK, but Southwest meant the wind would get around into the bay. I figured we might tuck in close to the Western edge of the bay, under the low cliffs and avoid it. Wrong.

Left the same time as the Irish ferry and had a pretty good sail up past Skokholm and Skomer, into St Brides Bay. The wind died completely half way across, so I started the engine. After 15 minutes it cut out and would not restart.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Isle of Innishmore, off Skokholm"][/caption]

Louise realised that the Diesel cut off had been left in the 'On' position when we left the boat last time, and she had switched it off instead of the other way around. No problems, I'd just bleed the system, pump the diesel and we'd be on our way.

The fuel lift pump on Ishtar is not powerful. And then some. An hour and a half of pumping left me with a blistered thumb and she still would not start. I'd bled and refilled the fuel system several times on Ishtar's 10HP Bukh, with no problems. This time she would not start. I searched all over the engine and eventually found another bleed point right at the back of the engine, almost hidden by a pipe. 10 minutes later we were on our way.

How else do you learn? You make mistakes, find yourself in a position where you are well outside your comfort zones and solve the problem or give up. The latter is not an option. Very annoying, especially when you fancy a quiet relaxing sail, but these things happen.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Ishtar at Caerbwdi"][/caption]

1/2 an hour later we were at anchor in Caerbwdi. Louise took Tigger ashore, and great fun was had. Then curry was had then beer was had and a glass of wine before retiring.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="I like beaches"][/caption]

The wind gradually picked up and backed all night. Being a light sleeper, I was not amused. I knew the Delta anchor was fine, but the banging and snatching was not really what I had in mind. We rose at 06:00 and set off back for Dale.

Louise sailed us back. Some big seas off Skomer as the wind built against the tide. Took Tigger ashore and tried a pint at the Griffin. Even that was miserable. The damp air had put most people off, and sitting in the beer garden in the rain was strangely unappealing. Met another Cardiff yacht club boat, Redeye, on the way back to the mooring. Told him to use Vince's mooring for the night.

Sunday was brighter. I changed the oil - the outstanding maintenance job. Met with Adam, and watermint for a coffee. A chat with Mike, aboard Redeye (a strangely apt name, after the previous night.....)  and a bit of fishing,

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Fishing"][/caption]

unsuccessful. Louise painted the cockpit floor with anitslip paint, finishing another job and we set off home in the car, taking Tigger for a walk on the beach before leaving.

Not much fun, really, but all part of the learning process. We don't live in the Med, so bad weather, tides, rain and doing your own maintenance is all part of the fun of owning a boat in UK waters.

The joys of boat ownership

By and large, people like to think of long lazy days in the sun, secluded anchorages on warm summer evenings, dolphins and seabirds and azure blue seas and skies.

Yes, it was like that one day, but the rest of the time it can be cold, uncomfortable, frightening, annoying, frustrating and not at all like the dream most people have when they buy a boat. Then there is the maintenance, and the cost of ownership. Every time you look at a boat, something breaks, and every boat owner thinks it's just them that has a major failure every time they go out. I think this is why you see so many neglected boats on moorings and in marinas - the reality can be a long, long way from the dream.

So, maintenance. We keep a list in the back of the log book. It never gets shorter. Items at the top get crossed off at the same rate that new ones are added to the bottom.

Last weekend it was repairing two sails, ripped during a blow. This weekend it was

1. Oil and filter change.

2. Primary diesel filter change.

3. Secondary diesel filter change.

4. Gearbox oil change.

5. Sort wiring problem making Eberspacher heater malfunction.

6. Redistribute weight to stop boat being nose heavy.

7. Refuel at Milford.

8. Fit new Autopilot after failure of old one during blow.

Yeah. Boring. Dull post. Who wants to read about that? Show us the sunset pictures........

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Dale Sunset"][/caption]

We refuelled at Milford. An hour's sail up, and hour back and an hour or so there, in and out when the lock was on freeflow. Called into the Griffin for a beer and met a chap called Adam, with a 17ft Silhouette called Watermint - she'd sailed in the 1979 Fastnet race, and he'd been to Lundy and Waterford in her.

We'd picked up a reconditioned Autopilot at Neyland, with assurances it would fit without modification. Apart from drilling a 21mm hole, 4 2.5mm holes and running in a new cable, that is.

Louise set off early on Saturday, to take Tigger ashore, and pick up some drill bits:

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Drill bits?"][/caption]

Whilst Louise was gone, I changed the fuel filters. Two hours covered in diesel, bent double reaching into the engine room. Still, it had to be done.When Louise returned, I drilled out the holes for the new autopilot. Louise did the wiring - her eyesight is better than mine:

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Wiring the autopilot"][/caption]

 

Louise changed the gearbox oil and I got ready to change the engine oil. Oops. No filter. That would have to wait. 15:00. We'd spent nearly all day fiddling with the boat. There was a light SW wind. We thought to head out of the Haven, find a bit of sea room and try our spinnaker. I'd flown it on a friend's boat, and was happy with the cruising chute, but we'd never flown the spinnaker on Ishtar. 3 hours later, off Freshwater West, up she went:

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="225" caption="Spinnaker on Ishtar"][/caption]

Only to collapse after just 10 minutes as the wind finally gave up all together. Ho Hum.

Could be worse, Angle lifeboat were out rescuing another yacht. Engine failure and no wind had left them floating.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Angle lifeboat towing"][/caption]

They went straight back out to bring another boat in. Seems teh hot weather had brought all sorts out. We headed for Castlebeach, a secluded anchorage!

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Ishtar from Castlebeach"][/caption]

I don't know who buids these wooden sculpture things, but I've seen a few. Maybe it's the blair witch.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="225" caption="Kinky boots"][/caption]

 

We did manage a short sail on Sunday - I noticed the boat wasn't sailing as fast as usual. Maybe the weed I'd noticed below the water was sllowing her. Anyway, we spotted a few nice boats, maybe arriving for the festival of classic yachts next week:

 

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Classic"][/caption]

 

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Another"][/caption]

 

All in all, not a particularly enjoyable weekend. It all needs doing though, and it is important to remember how much work goes into running a boat. Still, the next time out should be more fun.

Climbing back on the horse

After a bit of a kicking from the weather and waves teh last time out, we arrived at Ishtar to find the same forecast. Wind Force 4-5, occasional 6. This time a Northerly, and this time sunny rather than raining.

We talked about it. I didn't fancy it. Truth be told, last time scared me more than I was prepared to admit at the time, and I really didn't fancy it again. But what to do? If we don't go out with that forecast this time, we never go out with it.

So we decided to head for St Anne's head and have a look.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="St Anne's Head"][/caption]

Curious. Here was a the same forecast as last week, except that it was wind over tide this time, and it was the same as any other 4/5 occ6 we've been out in. Great sailing.

So off we went. Northerly meant we'd want a South facing bay to anchor in. South Haven, Skomer was a posibility, but we couldn't take Tigger ashore there, so we headed up to the West of Skokholm and Skomer towards St Davids head, and a little bay West of Solva called Caerbwdi. I was feeling far less apprehensive now:

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="That's better."][/caption]

And now, some dog psychology. Tigger is quite ambivalent about sailing. He likes the fact that it usually starts and ends at beaches. He likes teh fact that he gets good food, can get wet and sandy, and there are usually lots of sticks about.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="I'm on the beach!"][/caption]

It's the bit in between he is not so keen on. The flapping sails, crew fighting and shouting at each other, the crash of the boom and the slap of the waves.

Are you ready to go back to the boat, Tigger?

 

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Can we stay a bit longer?"][/caption]

He has improved a lot in the past few weeks. He has become convinced that dolphins may board us at any time, since he first glimpsed them on the crossing to Ireland. He feels it is his place to prowl the decks, and to repel them violently, by barking and running away.

Caerbwdi is South facing, with some rocky islets to the West of it's entrance, affording good shelter. 51 52.215N 005 14.890 W. We anchored in about 8m on sand and went ashore. A quiet bay, with a short walk along the coast path to St Davids in One direction, a bit further to Solva in the other.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Caerbwdi"][/caption]

The bay is steep sided, a small strem has cut a deep valley in the peninsula, so the sun sets a bit earlier there than out at sea. We found an old lime kiln - it's surprising how many there are in Pembrokeshire:

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Lime Kiln"][/caption]

 

The curry was good. Louise rustled up some excellent Chapattis to go with it, and the sea cooled the Sauvignon Bland nicely for later. How could we have contemplated not sailing?

Louise was up early the following day. Wind still blowing a Northerly 5, but the views out over St Savids peninsula towards Ramsey Island were spectacular.



Tigger had a walk and then we set off Southwards at a cracking pace, goosewinging downwind towards Skomer and then back around to Dale:

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Downwind sailing"][/caption]

Louise repaired the ripped sails when we got back. She's always loved 1980s new romantic music, and models her hair accordingly:

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="240" caption="Sail repair"][/caption]

Ishtar had been neglected over the winter, as we looked for a new home, and then moved. The engine needed a good service, and the whole boat could do with a check up, and a clean. That would have to wait.

So, the question remains. How could two almost identical forecasts (apart from the rain) give a very enjoyable sail one week and a horrendous experience the previous week?

I don't know.

Climbing back on the horse.

Scary Weather

Whilst planning the Ireland trip, I'd noticed some of the forecast sites giving a Force 5, or even a Force 6 for the Monday. Whilst we've been out in that before, and enjoyed it, I didn't fancy 18 hours of it, so we headed back to Dale before it arrived.

The coastguard forecast, from the Met Office gave SE force 4 or 5, occasionally 6 for Land's End to St David's head. We decided to go for a sail out to Skokholm, knowing we could get back quickly if it became uncomfortable. We set off around 10:00 - I stayed below as Louise wanted to plan and execute the trip on her own.

After about an hour and a half I realised the boat was rolling about a bit. I came up to find that we were to the West of Skokholm, heading for Skomer. The sky was leaden, and the wind much stronger than I had realised. I suggested to Louise that it would be better to circumnavigate skokholm and get back - it was becoming uncomfortable.

She agreed and we tried to do that. It was then I started to get worried. A combination of the SE wind, and the tide running North meant that we were being taken towards Jack Sound. Rather than risk that, we turned and headed back the way we had come, around the West of Skokholm.

As we cleared Skokholm, it really started to get bad. The rain was heavy, wind felt a good steady force 6 and there were swells from the South East at about 2m. With Engine and Genoa, I could make about 2 knots, but that was pretty much due East towards Gateholm, not towards St Anne's head at all. The boat was really rolling about by now so I asked Louise to go below and sit securely - Tigger would not be happy and he'd feel better if Louise was there.

St Anne's head was 3.75 miles, an easy hour if I could make progress. With only a small scrap of Genoa out, I could not point high, however, and a couple of tacks showed me that I had to get the main up.

I called Louise and we managed to raise the main with two reefs. By now I was certain it was stronger than a force 6, and the swells were still building.

I could point higher now, and began to make progress towards St Annes head. This was after about 2 1/2 hours of getting nowhere, increasingly worried as the weather and sea deteriorated.

I could see almost nothing. The rain reduced visibility so that I could see no land. Navigating by GPS and compass, I tacked back and fore, making 1/2 mile forwards for each 3 mile tack. I didn't see the Pembroke Ferry until it was almost upon me. The waves, especially on the extreme point of my Southwest tack, were around 4m.

I knwe the tide turned at 17:30. I'd then get wind against tide and, although the tide would be with me, I really didn't fancy the sea cutting up any more than it was. Luckily, the wind veered and I was able to point to about 120T, taking me past an impressive St Anne's head, with 5mwaves, breaking crests, and then back, with huge relief, to Dale.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Rough Weather"][/caption]

It had taken 5   3/4 hrs to travel 3.75 miles. Back on the mooring We heard Angle Lifeboat towing in another yacht. I spoke to the sailors the following day amd they said conditions were appalling. A friend told me the wind was gusting over 34 knots at Dale, in the shelter of the bay.

My thoughts at the time were a mixture of trying to hang on and not panic, constantly checking position, breaking time down into half hour slots and just keep trying different things until something worked. Looking back, I have no idea why the forecast seemed so wrong, but it scared us both.

We tore a section from the UV strip on our genoa, ripped a batten pocket on the main and killed our autopilot. I badly bruised two fingers (no idea how) and we scared ourselves, knocking our confidence hugely.

When we bought Ishtar, we decided to build experience slowly. Setting targets like first overnight stay, first night at anchor,  first long passage, first sail in a force 5. Indeed, the trip to Waterford was our first full night passage.

This day taught us one thing. You cannot always be in control. The wind, weather and sea are unpredictable, and the best plans in the world can be shredded.

I think we learned a huge amount. We made it back. Ishtar can probably take much more than we think, and using the mainsail(reefed) is better for pointing high than a reefed Genoa. Best of all, we know that we can get ourrselves out of conditions we would not have believed the day before.

And back.

An early start, still dark at 04:00 and, no! the drip drip drip of rain. A miserable start. Louise on watch after we left the harbour, a bit of wind, so we could sail. Headed due South hoping to avoid the nets and pots off Hook point until the light gradually improved. And then we settled into the crossing.

By about 8am the rain had passed. The wind was from the West and teh sun came out. This did improve spirits, albeit gradually.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Rain's gone"][/caption]

As the wind continued to drop, we managed to get the cruising chute up. She flew well for a few hours, but late afternoon, just as we sighted the Smalls, there was not enough wind even for that.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="225" caption="Cruising chute"][/caption]

I actually very nearly caught a dolphin when raising the chute, and it dipped into the sea momentarily. I think that wold have been a first, and maybe not just for me.

Grassholm looked beautiful, as ever

And the setting sun behind Skokholm and St Anne's head, even better:

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="SkokholmSt Anne's head"][/caption]

But we were on a mission. Sunday night, and the Griffin closed at 10:30. Tigger quite fancied a run on the beach too. I calculated I'd have 0.3m under the keel at the very end of Dale Pontoon at 22:00. In the event it was 0.1m, but that was fine, on a rising tide.

And so we'd made it. A brief, but extremely enjoyable sojourn across the Irish Sea. Something to celebrate. Two years, nearly, since we'd bought Ishtar, taken up sailing and did our Day skipper practical course.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="A pint of Cwrw Haf at the GriffinLouise and Tigger, Ishtar on pontoon"][/caption]