|
Jim
slog
Sunday morning in Cherbourg. Four
of us sitting there trying to work out the weather and the options. All of
us experienced sailors. Weather forecast had been “funny” for the last
couple of days. Complex patterns, etc., warnings on Saturday of gales.
Gale came through on Saturday evening and all the forecasts were now
talking of NE 4/5 …drat ... oh well, we’ll see what we can make and if
we can’t make the Needles we’ll go to Poole. Left Cherbourg in a
Southerly F3, full 6 hours of westward tide to run, weather brightening
slowly behind us. There was a big swell running, breaking over the outer
breakwater coming from the north. Must be the residue of last night’s
gale. Almost on a dead run. Tried various things, flying the chute with
the pole tacked out, etc., but everything was just flapping in the swell.
Switched engine on and motored north. When between the shipping lanes a
few ominous clouds appeared ahead. Put in the first reef just in case.
Helm suddenly said "Hey look at this on the radar". A large
black echo about half a mile across, growing as we watched! “Damn,
it’s going to be wet.” Put another reef in and oilies on. Converging
with the weather, wind switched to north and very rapidly got up to 20+
knots with visibility deteriorating rapidly in the heavy, driving rain.
Continued motor-sailing northwards in an ever-strengthening wind, the
rationale being that it was an isolated storm and we should get through it
soon. Radar now showed solid black around us for 5 miles. Wind was now F8
and sea building rapidly. Heading north could only make 2 knots
motor-sailing. If we cracked off to 330ish we were doing 5 to 6 knots. Did
this for next 30 minutes.
Clearly no longer an isolated
storm! Our position now mid channel in a N F8 (and building) south of
Portland Bill. Umm, options now limited: |
1) Continue, head towards Dartmouth, but forecast for
Plymouth area had been gales and if engine went we’d be stuffed;
2) Eastwards, not really an option. Would involve staying mid
channel amongst shipping lanes;
3) Run back to Cherbourg, still an hour of westerly tide and
then 6 hours of easterly.
Took decision to run back to Cherbourg. Turned and in the
very confused seas, gybed twice rapidly. Scandalised mainsail by dropping
halyard and got a bit of jib out.
OK, time for a deep breath. Ran back initially about 160/170
but with the still west-going stream it was giving us a 180 over the
ground. Now very cold because my oilies had leaked as I had helmed for the
previous period. Eventually went below, sodden through and changed
completely. Felt a lot better and had a good look at our position. Were
now about 10 miles north of the Alderney Race with slack water coming up.
Danger time would be when race started squirting north, wind against tide,
not a good place to be. Needed to get east asap to get away from the
danger zone. Sat at chart plotter and painfully sweated as I monitored our
position and progress.
Now pitch black, of course. Graham and Lindsey were topsides.
Brian was relaxing below as well. At the chart table I also started to
relax a little as we were now 8 miles NNE or so of Cap de la Hague and the
seas seemed to be starting to ease. Just then ... BANG ... I flew across
the saloon, something hit me on the head, and there I
was perched in the corner between saloon wall and deckhead. Cushions,
contents of fridge, lockers, cabin sole, Brian were flying through the
air. Time stood still. Looked up at the hatchway expecting to see the
contents of the Atlantic entering, but dry. Boat gradually started to
recover. Started to stand up. BANG. Process repeated! damn, this is it,
we’re going over. Remember looking at Brian and thinking “He’s
thinking the same as me!” |
Unbelievably the boat came up again, stench of diesel
everywhere. Shouted up to Graham and Lindsey. Still there! Graham at the
helm had been completely submerged in water. Apparently just at the last
second he’d seen a large 10-15ft curling, breaking wave hitting us!
Recovered and carried on. Just then engine-overheating alarm went off (had
it on tickover to keep batteries charged). This was developing into a
serious situation. I radioed Cherbourg coastguard:
1) to advise them of our situation and position
2) to check that radio was still working after mast had been
in the water
They responded immediately in excellent English asking if we
wished assistance. Said not at the moment but would radio in when we
reached the Grande Rade, expected to be there in 90 minutes. A nearby ship
offered to come and assist (many thanks 'Europa', I think) but not in
immediate danger and expected no problems making and entering the western
entrance.
Gradually the seas slackened off. Entered Cherbourg without
too much drama. Engine started and gave us enough to berth up with.
Diesel had come from the spare can in the locker after it
whacked the locker roof, cracked the cap and spilled diesel into the
cockpit through the locker lid.
Suspect the engine overheated because when intake was exposed
it had sucked air and caused an airlock.
Unbelievably the only damage done was a bent stanchion and a
shredded dodger.
… oh, and a few bruised ribs, etc
Strange where things end up, found a fishing reel that had
been in an aft cabin under one of the cabin soles!
Jim Robertson |
|
Year
Book
Don’t just file away your Spinnaker Club 2004 Year Book,
keep it handy. It contains all manner of useful information, tips, safety
advice, Club rules, lists of member names by dinghy class with phone
numbers, and more…
The distinctively coloured booklet is produced once a year with great
attention to detail as a source of reference, possibly with greater
shelf-life even than the Club website or this newsletter. Ed |
