Midwatch is Back on the Move!

Tuesday morning, we awoke to some spotty rain showers under brightening and clearing skies.  During our stay in Ireland we have become a bit more observant of all things lucky or otherwise and we chose to take this beautiful rainbow over Midwatch to be a particularly good omen.

The morning was full of energy.  The Castlepoint Boatyard crew, brothers and owners, Billy, Don and Alan and their father had already cleared a path by moving numerous boats and trailers and had parked the freshly painted travel-lift right in front of Midwatch the Friday before.  They said they didn’t want anything left to chance!   It was maybe 9:00 a.m. and Billy started the lift and deftly maneuvered it around Midwatch all by remote control.  At first the boys just said they would put her in the straps but after she was lifted they said “We’ll just bring her to the gate”.  When we reached the gate it was decided that there was a chance someone would park their car in the way so they simply drove us out in the street and across the road to the launch.  There we sat at the head of the launch waiting for high tide scheduled for 1:00 p.m..  Our boatyard neighbor, Annie came by to give us a heartfelt goodbye.  At 11:00 a.m. we heard the engine start on the lift.  Alan said there was enough water and they had a lot of boats to pull so they wanted to put us in now.  Maybe that was true and maybe they just wanted to be rid of us ;)  There was so much pent up anticipation of this day that we were all relieved to go in the river two hours ahead of schedule.

This particular style of lift actually drives out in the water on a traditional sloped concrete boat ramp.  It is quite an experience.  There is no dock so everybody rides.  Billy, the eldest, operates the lift.  Alan and Ross work with the boat from the lift and Don runs the yard’s rib (inflatable).  We got enough water under the keel to get water to the engine so we started her up.  She started perfectly and we ran her for a few minutes to be sure all was good and then we were dropped in and free to reverse out of there.    Remember there is no dock you are in a river and there was some good current.  I was glad that Don was watching my back from the rib.  He could push us to safety if something went terribly wrong.  We pulled away and motored up river back to the Royal Cork Yacht Club the site of our fateful accident two months before.

 

Our target was the fuel dock.  We had actually burned a fair bit of diesel the past two months operating our central heater.  It wasn’t that we needed it so much for the heat but rather to help drive off moisture.  Four people living and cooking in a little 35-foot boat in September and October in Ireland is actually rather disgusting.   The humidity and condensation is epic and runs and drips down the walls and grows mildew on anything and everything.  We regularly had to operate the bilge pump to pump out the condensate…yuck!

As we approached the dock the tide was still flooding and the wind was picking up fiercely as it always does when you mean to dock a boat.  Alan suggested we do a drive-by and then swing around and come back.  As we drove by we saw that two sailboats were rafted side by side on the fuel dock and there would be just enough room for us to parallel park in behind them…a particularly big challenge!   Of-course a fleet of kids sailing Toppers came zooming out of the sailing club and around both sides of us to add to the situation.  Fortunately with Don now at the dock and two extra crewmen aboard to lend a hand we pulled in and tied up without incident.  I must admit I was shaking when I went to turn the engine off.

We felt that it was important to come back to the yacht club and the scene of our accident to confront our feelings about the incident but we weren’t disappointed when the manager said we could stay at the fuel dock for the night.  I think Anna and I (Bob) were emotionally most affected by our incident.  Boating has always been my most successful endeavor and my base for self-confidence.  I was helpless to stop that crash…it was pure and simply an “Accident”.   Anna had the best view of the scene that fateful day in September and it was traumatic to say the least.  She lost a childhood innocence and innate confidence that most children probably have for their parents that day.  Finn only remembers the good frosting on his birthday cake and Kim doesn’t talk much about these things but agreed we must go back.

We soon learned that because we were launched hours early we had missed some of our new friends who had come to see us off.  We arranged to meet Shane and Catriona and their two children Abby and “little” Anna at the club bar that evening.  We enjoyed our time with this amazing family and feel confident we will meet them again somewhere…sometime.

On Wednesday we awoke to shrieking wind and lashing rain.  A southerly gale had been forecast to end abruptly around noon or so.  We had decided we would leave for France after the front had passed at the turn of the tide.  We walked to town where Kim and the kids spent an hour with Anna, a wonderful au pair from Germany, who had come the day before as well to see us off.  I bought a tube of marine caulk at the store and walked back to the boatyard to say thanks and goodbye.

We went back to the boat and got busy doing all the last minute things you do before going off-shore.  I checked the transmission fluid and when I went to screw the dipstick back in it broke in my hand…show stopper!  I hoofed it back to the boatyard and had them order the Christmas Turkey that they had joked with me about just two hours before.  Billy dug around for a time and then hoofed it off to the neighboring boatyard.  He was back in a half hour with a cap off another engine.  We merged the parts and Alan gave me the thumbs up and waved me off (get the hell out of here type of wave).

The rain stopped and the skies cleared on my walk back to Midwatch.  The transmission cap fit fine.  Kim said goodbye to Mark the gracious manager at the yacht club and he asked that we email him when we were safely in France.  We suited up in our foul weather garb, put up the flags, started the engine, cast off the lines and eased away from the dock.  It was about 2:00pm, the tide was slack, the wind had backed to the west and was dropping we were free.

As we drove by the Castle Point Marina Don and Alan gave us a long emotional wave goodbye.   These are sea going people and they understood our plight and really took care of us.   They take pride in their work and Midwatch is stronger than ever and she looks pretty damned good too.  Again we have a feeling we will meet these folks again one day.

The river opens up into the second largest natural harbor in the world and there we turned our bow into the wind and set the main.  The school kids are off this week and there was one set of kids racing in their Optis behind us towards Cork.  As we motor sailed out of the harbor the huge swell from the southern gale that morning greeted us.  Anna was already on the edge and this put her over.  She was scared.  It helped that the second group of kids racing their Optis were riding in the swell “outside” the harbor.   Optis are little boats about the size of a bathtub used for training kids just about Anna’s age.  The last view of Ireland was the opposite of my first way back in June.  Today the sun shown bright and the fields a brilliant green but the smell was the same…cow manure…just the way we like it!

We figured we should be able to make Brest, France in about 48-56 hours.  We were forecast to have moderate westerlies to start that would build in the evening as a new gale came into the western coast of Ireland.  The faster we got south the less we would be effected by this.  We decided that we should go directly to the south for a while so that we could bear-off the wind as it built and head more directly to our mark.  A system with fairly heavy southwest winds was forecast to pass just under us as we approached France.  We would get hit by the northern edge of this…we hoped it would be limited.  Less than a day later a much bigger system would arrive and we had better be in the harbor before that hit!

We started with a double reefed main and full genoa.  Soon we shook the reefs out of the main to gain speed.   The wind freshened before dark and we again double reefed the main.

For this trip I had pre-medicated myself for seasickness.  Kim and Anna did the same.  We tend not to worry about Finn.  This strategy worked for me and Finn.  The swell from the gale that morning was tremendous.  Anna got the award for the first seasickness induced vomit of our adventure to date.  Finn puked on board once but it was an incident with a vegetable while Midwatch was in the parking lot.  When Finn says he doesn’t like carrots he means it! 

The next morning (Thursday) the winds built and a squall hit and we had to reef the genoa.  I knew there was a lot more to come that night and the next day so I decided we needed to get the little working jib up in place of the genoa at the first opportunity.   The opportunity came that afternoon and the wind backed off enough so we went for it.  Kim has not ever done this process and it is a serious piece of work.  Grandpa and I did this quite a bit and I was glad for that experience.  The wind was down to about 18 knots but the seas were quite large.  We dropped the genoa, hove-to, detached the sail, removed the sheets, folded it, bagged it, and put it down below decks.  We then un-bagged the working jib, tied on the sheets, moved the turning blocks on the deck forward and attached the sail to the furler and hoist.  It is not that doing these things is that difficult in themselves it’s the conditions under which you are doing them that make it such hard work.  Kim wasn’t looking real good when we started and she was blowing chunks over the rail by the time we were done, but she did it.  It turned out we changed the sail just in time.   I was still tidying up when the next squall hit blowing up over 30 knots.   I had all I could do to reach the cleat to hang the halyard on the mast as she healed over to port.  I wobbled back to the cockpit.  I wasn’t sea sick but I really lost my “sea legs” these past two months.  Kim was all done at this point and Anna was still puking.

She blew 25-35 knots all night and we flew.  I did have to reef the little jib for a time.  We made fantastic time and I really enjoyed the sailing.  My Dad and I ran a good distance across the Atlantic this way (working jib and double reefed main) and I am confident of the set-up.  Anything over 23 knots and to about 35 knots and you can feel the boat lift and run…it’s almost like planing.  Above 35 knots the seas get too big and you get other problems.  Unfortunately I was the only one who experienced the good sailing.  Kim and Anna were too sick to move.   Eight hours later and desperate for a break for myself, I checked on Kim around midnight.  She complained about a problem with her face.  I turned the light on and it looked like Harry Potter had blown her face up like a balloon with one of his spells.   We agreed it was probably the patch….she peeled it off and I went back up on deck.  Every once in a while a big wave train would blow the auto-pilot and we were flying along at over 7 knots so someone had to be right there by the wheel.  By that morning (Friday) the wind had decreased to 20-25 knots and we were approaching the coast of France ahead of schedule.  Kim’s face was improving but she was miserable and not about to go on deck.   Anna was still puking which was worrisome but she was taking it in stride.   Finn was on a movie watching spree but pretty much glued to his mother.  He did tell us that he puked on the floor but we haven’t found any evidence of that yet and he sure wasn’t acting sick.

I carried on that night across the English Channel and some of the busiest shipping lanes of the world.   There were probably 25 ships that passed us but I never had to alter course…lucky!   Then as we got within only a few miles of the coast my luck ran out.  The wind was strong but it was the seas that got really tough.  We were technically in the English Channel and I think it was current that was making things so bad.  The swell was the biggest I had ever seen.  Remember a storm with hurricane force winds had blown through here only days before.  We started to get pushed off course and I just couldn’t make significant forward progress and the waves between the swell became short and steep.  Midwatch was laboring.  The weather event that was hitting us from the southwest was forecast to move off under us in the afternoon and we would get winds from the northwest then.  I decided it was pointless for me to try to inch forward so I hove-to under double reefed main alone and let us drift northwest but safely away from shore.  I stretched out on the cabin sole and periodically checked outside.  A fishing boat drove by us at some point.  Maybe three hours later our drift pattern changed and Kim thought the wind was changing and asked me to make a try to get us in.  We were also drifting back towards the shipping traffic and that would not do.  I unfurled the jib and tried a tack but the angle was no good so I came about and headed towards land well north of our target.  The wind and the current were changing and as I approached the outer islands the changing conditions allowed me to slowly bring the course from west to southwest, veering across the face of the island without ever needing to tack.  I was then able to sail south along the coast towards the entrance to the port with boat speeds back up to 7 knots or better.   I could only see light houses and breakers as evidence of nearby land.

It was getting dark as we turned the boat east towards the Port of Brest.  The scale is huge and caught us by surprise.  I thought I was basically there and then realized we had nearly 22 more miles to go.  By now the wind had clocked around and was nearly at our back.  The waves and swell were big so it felt like it would be easier to sail in as the boat is much more stable with the sails up.  This is known to be an all-weather, day or night safe port.  I figured that soon the wind and waves would diminish and we would motor up a calm channel to the harbor.  Boy was I ever wrong!

It was dark with fog, mist and light rain.  I sailed the first 10 miles and only saw a couple of dim flashing lights from buoys and light houses.   Instead of calming down the wave action seemed to get worse the further inland we went.   It dawned on me that the tide had changed and was coming out at us against an incoming wind.  The boat slowed and then stopped forward progress.  I had to start the engine to start us moving again.  Kim started to feel well enough or maybe she just realized how tired I was and that I really needed some help.  We pressed on and the current/wave problem got worse.  I could catch glimpses of standing waves through the gloom that appeared to be about boom height.  I was scared.  The boat began to roll heavily back and forth as we pushed on through that current under sail and engine.  I wanted to take the sail down but was afraid to turn sideways to the current to dump the wind out of the sail enough to be able to pull it down.  Somewhere in the middle of this the radio started to chatter about the sailboat in the river at some lat. and long. position and Kim realized it was us they were talking about.  I think it was the port authority.  Thankfully Kim was more rested then me and she took a lot of French in high school.  She ran the radio and talked us through and even used some of her French.  The river here was really rough and we had to make a turn which put the wind more directly at our back.  The boat started to roll more and more violently and then smash we jibed.  I had set the boom brake but not hard enough.  I looked things over and realized we had done some damage to our mainsheet traveler.  We needed to get the main down now.  The waves seemed to be a bit less so we got organized turned the boat cross ways to the wind and current, yanked the sail down, straightened out the course and continued on all in pitch black conditions.  Eventually we approached the city and things got easier.  Kim used the radio and contacted the harbor master who gave us some instructions.  We found the marina and entered and tied up along the visitor pontoon without incident.

All in all it was a good team effort.  The weather window we had was not the best but probably as good as you can hope for in this part of the world at this time of year.  The boat performed awesomely and we had a good fast passage getting here.   Kim got us to the dock.  I think I would have gone back out to sea if I was alone.   When I woke this morning it was damned nice to be at that dock.  We sent our safe arrival email off to Mark at the Royal Cork Yacht club who responded that Ireland was getting pounded by a massive storm with 75 knot winds right now.  I think we did the right thing coming to France, spirits are high!