Carol's
Blog
Extract from the log of the delivery trip of the sailing yacht ‘Scramble’
Vessel: Hustler 30, named Scramble
Crew:
Owner, Cook, Navigator; Robin Taylor
Engineer, Trouble-shooter, Techie Chap Alasdair Finlay
Deckie, Sailmaker, Photographer; Carol Gilles
Tuesday 3rd June:
18.10 Instructed to proceed to Newquay Airport, Al and I set off from Glasgow and after a scenic flight down the west coast were met by Robin in his hire car.
1930: Treated to a close-up tour of Cornwall’s leafy lanes on the way to Falmouth, temporary residence of the newly acquired Scramble. Regaled with a narrative of Robin’s eventful session with the water pump. Stopped for supplies on the way. Bonded Stores featured heavily…
21.00: On arrival at Falmouth, were treated with extensive tour of one way system. Very effective method of traffic calming. Not.
Got to marina eventually and loaded supplies at length. Aahh, better…
23.00: Robin informed us of electrical malfunction. No power. Paraffin lamps
are so handy…
Wednesday 4th June: It seemed that there was a major electrical problem.
Al was dispatched into various corners of the boat to deal with it, along
with Robin’s (very) extensive tool kit..
08.00: Carol, being ‘the wummin’, was dispatched to shop for a wide variety of goods, including; a small wooden toggle for the Bute burgee; a sail maker’s needle; strong polyester thread; brown mastic; tiny crocodile clips; a reel of 12v electrical wire; insulating tape; a whistle for the kettle; wire terminals; crimps for same; chocolate; a cat flap; a sharp knife; cup hooks. All of which I obtained in the same shop. Herewith a plug for Trago Mills, genuinely your one-stop shop!
12.00: Robin went off to return the hire car and charge the boat batteries.
13.30: Robin hove into view carting two new batteries, as his had been analysed
and were bu**ered. Al had meanwhile traced the problem to a knackered solid-state
charger. He had also practically rewired the entire boat, then we tackled
the Autohelm feed wire. Sorted it then had a gin to celebrate.
Thursday 5th June:
05.30 left Falmouth to get the best of the tide. Just love these early
starts.
Two reefs and some rolls in the jib; wind on the nose as per…
07.30. Had to crawl out of bunk as feeling a bit queasy. (Okay! So I wasn’t up as early as the chaps, HELLO!! BEAUTY SLEEP!!)
Made tea, fitted dodgers onto the guard rail, made more tea then helmed for a good bit. Scramble an excellent sea boat, even in the overfalls off Anvil Point.
15.00 arrived Newlyn as Penzance tidal and we couldn’t lock in yet. Did more surgery to Autohelm. As made in the Far East, was not very well put together. A couple of hours with the wiring diagram and some plastic padding and we were in business, hurray!!. More gin…
17.45 Arrived Penzance. Way off the ‘Rustic-ometer’ with wee narrow lanes, tiny wee prettily-painted houses and wide range of pirate-related emporia. Robin had completed the finishing touches to the legendary Boogaloo Stew which we devoured with enthusiasm. As I was acting sous chef, have now got recipe; much rejoicing.
Day’s run: 50 miles.
Friday 6th June:
05.15: Forecast not good for Land’s End and the Bristol Channel; force 4-5 NW. No chance, back to sleep!
08.45: Dispatched to shops again for more things to fix boat. Top slide
in mainsail burst, so some sewing needed. Girlie work again… So satisfying
though!
Al sorted GPS and log. I scraped old sealant from toe rail above hull- to
-deck joint and re-sealed with clever sticky stuff. Robin’s doing lovely
things with food again.
17.00: Dragged a wee man off the boat next to us for gin and blether. He
had bought his wooden boat as a bare hull and fitted her out himself and
she was lovely. Persuaded him that the west coast of Scotland was the best
place in the world to sail, before he made his escape. Tried engine. Dead
as a dodo. Learned some new swearies from Robin. It was then deemed necessary
to patronise the famous ‘Admiral Benbow’ inn for the sake of market research.
Horse brasses?? Pirate Inn?? Mmmm.
Day’s run: 4 miles, including tacking up hill to pub.
Saturday 7th June:
06.30: Up to get supplies, forecast having been ok. Shops not open till 8.00 so back to boat for gallons of tea. Chaps located a set of jump leads and a battery, so we managed to clear off before the tidal barrier shut at 09.00.
The forecast for the previous day wrong, so we had missed a day’s sail and
some overnight practice. (OK, so I was the only one who needed it!) Nevertheless,
it was still on the nose (west) so we motored to Land’s End.
11.30: As the sea was slight and the visibility excellent, we cut between
Land’s End and Longships, the lighthouse on the rocks a mile off the point.
We were close enough to see the tourist busses at the famous Land’s End
Souvenir Experience and Tat Emporium. Wind followed us round the corner,
so we still had it on the nose. Aw, c’mon!!
13.00: One of Robin’s lovely salads for lunch, eaten in a bit of a swell, so one-handed munching needed as other hand needed to hold on.
15.00: Jib out, motor sailing. Not quite in the optimum direction but hot and sunny.
17.30: Doing hourly fix when Robin yelled that the dolphins were with us. Got some smashing video footage. Dolphins are so cool! They just whiz about with no apparent effort and do amazing stuff.
18.00: Another fab meal courtesy of Robin Ronay.
19.00: Tried to sleep but just dozed. Envying chaps’ ability to drop off
in minutes. Instead devised excellent new navigation aid; big red arrow
with ‘you are here’ written on it. Sticks nicely on the chart with blu—tack.
Confident it’s a major contribution to boat safety.
Night watches; Al, 22.00- 12.00, Robin, 12.00-02.00, me 02.0-04.00 etc.
Kipped from 23.00 till 01.30. Tea! Night watch lovely as Autohelm does the
work. Just need to keep an eye out for fast ferries and fishing boats. A
clear night with lots of stars and satellites and the odd dolphin and shooting
star. Being on deck at night on your own, in a good boat, with nice weather,
must be one of the greatest experiences in life…
Milford Haven still 6 hours off, with the added attraction of The Smalls,
a collection of rocky bits with strong tidal streams; apparently a bit bouncy in adverse weather, and quite jaggy the rest of the time. Fine at the moment, very little wind or waves. According to the chart, we were approaching the Celtic Deep, which sounds ancient and mysterious. Robin said he liked the sound of the Nymphe Bank better!. Men! Was having an unusual nautical experience, in that I had no idea where my wellies were: didn’t need them. Can’t be in Scotland then…
Sunday 8th June:
08.00: Sea glassy, still motoring. Not a lot of land in sight. The odd
ferry. No yachts.
Al pootling about doing wee jobs, as is his wont. Wasn’t sure whether his
wee gas blow torch was working, so held it up to his ear and clicked it
on. Yes, it was working, which was more than could now be said for his ear
lobe. Must phone him next time he’s doing the ironing!
Nothing happening in the Irish Sea but it was lovely and sunny.
13.00: Robin woke up and decided to check the cool box, which had been switched off after the Battery Incident. Bad call. Those steaks looked lovely three days ago too… Hot and sunny and autohelm coping magnificently so went forward to sunbathe/doze on the foredeck.
15.00: Feeling a bit homesick, I contrived a mock-up of Ailsa Craig to help
us feel more at home. Chaps said it looked more like the Bass Rock. Stuck
it on the bulkhead anyway to remind us of home
19.00: Robin made a lovely curry so had to retire to bunk to sleep it off. Still motoring with Angus the Autohelm. What a star!
11.30: Woke after a smashing kip. Tea, lots. Lovely still night but could do with some wind, preferably from astern. Still, it wasn’t raining and the craic was rare!
02.00: My turn on watch. Passing Dublin Bay. Managed to get a couple of texts sent – and one reply from hubby, obviously awake and pining for me. Aww…05.00: On deck for the sunrise, which was spectacular. Off to
bed with a cuppa.
Monday 9th June
10.00: Woke up and made breakfast - Robin and I had a fly piece ‘n’ sausage before Al woke. Supplies running low; down to last drop of fresh milk and wee bit of kitchen roll. It’s amazing how much kitchen roll you use on a boat, as it’s used for so many jobs.
12.50: Sails out and engine off after 52 hours and 280 miles of motoring, now 25 miles south of Bangor, Co Down.
15.50: Mobile phones now going off regularly with text messages, as we’d been out of range for days. Engine on again to push us against the tide. Robin informed us that in order to catch a fair tide north from Bangor, we’d need to set off at 05.00. Gawd.
18.50: Along side at Bangor Marina. After a restorative beverage or two,
set course for Asda and the local Chinese eatery. Replete, crashed out for
a few hours sleep. Day’s run 305 miles from Penzance.
Tuesday 10th June:
06.00: Blowing old boots through the night. Forecast NW 4-5, occasionally 6. Secured everything below and set off. Are we having fun yet?
10.00: Breakfast was interesting. All now sported a range of bruises that would put a cage fighter to shame. Going to the loo now required planning, co-ordination and expert timing. (See appendix A for hints and tips.) Got a real pasting from Arran to Toward, lots of bouncy water, some of which was intent on exploring the inside of our waterproofs. With a good degree of success.
Finally co-ordinated ‘You are here’ indicator and Ailsa Craig
On arrival at Toward, it was obvious that we couldn’t land without getting
very wet and possibly losing some gear, so headed to Rothesay marina and
borrowed Robin’s car to drive round via Colintraive. Single car and driver
£9.10. For 100 yards. Aw, c’mon!
Day’s run 82 miles by sea.
Total run, 437 miles.
Appendix A
A Girlies’ Guide to Using a Boat Loo at Sea… (Scramble Variation)
1. Open loo door, scraping knuckles against handle of wet-locker door which
is conveniently located right next to loo door.
2. Jam loo door shut with a handy tea towel as the snib doesn’t work.
3. Lean against wet-locker door and unzip chest-high trousers, slide shoulder
straps off and drop trousers.
4. Timing carefully for waves, swivel through 180 degrees and attempt to
park bum in rough vicinity of loo seat; wet, of course as hatch invariably
leaks.
5. Jam left leg against foc’sl bulkhead (only feasible for those over 5’8”)
and hope the boat doesn’t roll too much or you’ll get a wet(ter) bum.
6. Attempt to extract some loo paper from the soggy roll thoughtfully located
just behind your left shoulder; pull shoulder ligaments in the process.
7. When finished, pump the loo out – pump leaks of course, so floor soaking,
as are your trouser’s shoulder straps.
8. Using all the innate cunning, co-ordination and timing of a true yachtswoman,
leap to your feet whilst twisting again through 180 degrees to lean against
the wet-locker door, (all accomplished at an angle of 45 degrees) then attempt
to retrieve your clothing.
9. Reappear on deck hoping there’s no stray loo paper fluttering gaily from
your nether regions, to be greeted with remarks from the male members of
the crew that they “thought you’d fallen over the side as you were away
so long”.
They, meanwhile, had taken advantage of your absence to have a fly piddle
off the transom…