Engines, sails and Gibraltar

Those of you who are on Facebook will know that Tantrum arrived in Gibraltar yesterday afternoon (26 November) after a two and a half day passage from Calpe. We’ve now travelled 1408 nautical miles (that’s 1619 statue miles) from Lefkas, taking almost exactly three weeks to make the trip. According to our deLorme inReach beacon, our maximum speed was in excess of 20 knots but no one aboard actually noticed that happening: we reckon that our maximum speed was actually somewhere round 16.5 knots as we slid down the face of a wave.
OK we’ve made it this far, so perhaps a bit of filling in on the details of how it was actually done would be appropriate.
The last blog ended with us sitting in Milazzo on the north coast of Sicily eating the fuel tank ‘cleaned’ after the dead engine saga. Having waited for the winds to sort themselves out in Milazzo once the tank hard been sorted was difficult. All on board just wanted to get moving again as we hadn’t made that much progress and we were all feeling a bit of time pressure.

Milazzo approaches. Looks better leaving than arriving.

Watching weather forecasts can become obsessional. No really obsessional. Like waiting with baited breath as the next one is due to be published so you can see if there’s been any changes since the last one. Coupled with the fact that there really isn’t much to do in Milazzo was giving us all a severe case of cabin fever.
So on 11 November the forecasts looked half way to reasonable, with the westerly winds decreasing and going round to the south, we reckoned that we could escape and head west. We left at about midday and as we cleared the harbour breakwater we could see from the the broken horizon that the swell from the wind hadn’t yet abated. And as we cleared the headland north of Milazzo we ran into the wind that was still driving the swell. With two – three metre waves and a force six wind, it was impossible to make any sensible headway. However, returning to Milazzo wasn’t on the option list. After a short discussion it’s decided to head 14 miles north to Vulcano where we could use the eastern anchorage to sit out the remainder of the wind. It took three hours or so to get there but the anchorage was quiet and empty.
The forecast was for the wind to die away by about 0300 on 12 November, so that’s when Tantrum weighed anchor and departed. Exactly as forecast, the wind had disappeared and the swell had moderated to a reasonable level, so we made good progress under motor towards Sardinia.  

Sunrise over Vulcano and mainland Italy.

Our passage plan was to head for Carloforte, a small island off the south west tip of Sardinia. If the weather was good, we would refuel there and continue on to Mallorca. If not, we would pause there until the weather improved. In the event, the weather remained as forecast with the winds building from the south. This meant we entered Carloforte on 15 November at about 1300 to refuel. The fuel berth is not in the main harbour but in the small boat marina just to the north. Now, Tantrum only draws 1.3 metres of water (compared to the nearly 2 metres Rampage draws); even so according to the depth sounder we had no water under the keel as we came into the berth. To compound this entertainment, the fuel station was shut so refuelling had to be carried out by filling jerrycans via the cash operated pumps and then syphoning the diesel into the main tank. Meanwhile, Bob walked along to the local shops and restocked with fresh food. An hour and a half later, we departed, heading for Mallorca.

The wonders of modern technology. Screen shot from Julia’s iPad of the Marine Traffic website showing Tantrum’s position of Carloforte after we had refuelled.

The winds built nicely from the north east and Tantrum showed a fair turn of speed on a reach. The log shows that overnight we maintained an average speed of 8 knots but the course we could maintain was tending a bit more northerly than was ideal. By the evening of 16 November we were getting close to the Balearics and had to decide where we would make landfall. Ideally, we would have liked to head to Ibiza but the winds had been such that our course was taking us to Mallorca.

In the end, we decided to anchor off San Jordi, a small town on the south eastern corner of Mallorca. We got there at about 0100 on 17 November and spent a quiet night there before setting off for Palma the following morning. The forecast had led us to think we’d be motoring but we picked up a nice northerly wind and sailed all the way round.

Linear squall between Sardinia and Mallorca. It got quite wet and windy once it was over us.

It had become apparent over the last few days that things weren’t going well with Bob. He had problems at home and wasn’t fitting in with Steve and I, so it was agreed that he would head home from Palma, leaving Steve and I to continue alone.
The time in Palma was spent doing a series of jobs that had come to light during the trip. I fitted additional primary fuel filters to the engines, along with priming bulbs to make life easier in the event of further fuel problems: a wise precaution in view of what was to follow. Once the job list was finished, we then played the same waiting game as before with the weather.
Eventually, we thought we could squeeze out of Palma against a mainly southerly wind towards Ibiza before picking up better weather towards the mainland. So on 20 November we left to carry through our cunning plan: Ibiza, on to Denia and thence to Gib.
The plan survived for about three hours before it became apparent that the wind wasn’t going to cooperate. There was far too much south and not enough east. We couldn’t make anywhere near enough ground to the south so settled on heading mainly west with the intention of anchoring in Portinax, a small (really small) anchorage on the north coast of Ibiza. Arriving there at 2300, the entry was made using radar to guide us into the cove before anchoring for the night. The wind was blowing a gale so we kept an anchor watch through the night before spending the rest of the day watching it rain. We didn’t bother trying to go ashore as the little town looked shut.

The rock at Calpe, our landfall on the Spanish mainland.

Like Vulcano, the wind was forecast to die away by the early morning, so we weighed anchor at 0300 on 22 November headed not for Denia as originally planed but for Calpe which was a little further south and west than Denia. A short hop for this trip, it was only just over 70 miles, we entered the harbour at about 1600 after motoring the whole way. After refuelling, Tantrum was berthed on the end of a pontoon in the marina. The local fishing fleet then returned to port en masse just as we finished: it was lucky that we arrived when we did as they blocked access to the fuel berth!
Calpe resembles Gibraltar and Monemvasia in as much as there is a large lump of rock joined to the shore by an isthmus. This is somehow appropriate as our next port of call would be Gibraltar. The passage plan showed 320 miles which should take us 36 hours or so to complete. Originally the intention had been to depart on 23 November but the weather was so foul (heavy, unrelenting rain and westerly wind) that we stayed put.
Once again putting our faith in modern meteorology we decided to set off at 0300 on 24 November. It turned out that the forecast was right so we ended up motoring for a large part of the trip, apart from the odd few hours when the winds obliged by getting up enough strength to make it worthwhile putting the sails up. However, by late Friday (25 Nov) the wind had settled into a sort of westerly which we could use as we headed mainly south at that stage. It was just as well that the wind had got up by this stage as we were nearing the bottom quarter of the fuel tank.
We were considering motoring into Gibraltar when we had about 30 miles or so to go. We were motorsailing at that point when with no ceremony or warning first the port engine quit and then the starboard one. Clearing the fuel lines is a drill I’ve got used to by now but it didn’t resolve much as both engines quit again within 30 minutes of me getting them going again.  
So we tacked into the wind, slowly gaining ground on Europa Point being held back by the wind and, a new thing for us, the TIDE! Eventually, we rounded the point in by mid afternoon. Now, one thing you need to be aware of in this entertainment is the sheer volume of marine traffic in the vicinity of Gibraltar. There are ships parked at anchor everywhere. Like dozens of them. It’s difficult to separate the icons on AIS display. Some of them are moving, others look as if they are but aren’t and mixed into all of this are the fast ferries from Spain to Morocco. And we were navigating through all of this under sail.  
OK, so power gives way to sail and all that but the practicality of these things is that 43 feet of catamaran is significantly easier to manoeuvre than 20,000 tonnes of bulk carrier. And frankly us being hit by a big ship is terminal for us but the big ship wouldn’t even notice us as we hit… That being so, we threaded our way through the Gibraltar bay anchorage and down into the marina, albeit that it is a bit like driving down the high street with no brakes.

A rain soaked view of Gibraltar. If you want a better set of pictures go to the tourist office website!

The entrance is a long channel, about 100 metres south of the airport runway. Easy enough as it was straight downwind and, thankfully, the wind had died somewhat he this point. Cue much dashing about by me, setting up fenders and mooring lines, whilst Steve helped and tried to raise the marina on VHF. We were actually inside the marina when they finally responded, telling us that our berth was in fact on the other side of the place. With fingers very firmly crossed, we started both engines and made our way to the berth though the pouring rain. I don’t mention that? It had been raining heavily for hours at this point and happily continued to do so for hours after we arrived.
Once moored, we discovered that much of the reason behind the silence from the marina was their lack of electrical power in the offices. The rain was the first they’d had for months and had flooded their sub station. The circuits for the pontoon power points were protected but the office wasn’t, so the berthing master was reliant on a handheld VHF which was on its last legs.

Our route to date. See text for more information about this tracking website.

Anyhow, after supper ashore of gargantuan proportions we turned in early. I didn’t really return to full consciousness until about 0930 the next morning, beaten by minutes by Steve. We had another enormous meal (full English breakfast) before doing not a lot as the rain persisted down. Late afternoon saw us deciding to brave the rain to visit Morrisons superstore: a somewhat surreal experience to find a complete British supermarket this far south, full of folks from Spain doing their shopping.
So, replete with sausage and chips with HP Sauce and a can of Magners to hand that’s the story of how we got to Gibraltar. Linda, Steve’s wife arrive tomorrow, so we look forward to some good cooking for a change whilst we seek out someone to clean the crap out of the fuel tank and Steve and I tackle a longish list of jobs before we are in shape for the next leg of the trip to Tenerife.
The weather forecast for the next week in our bit of the Atlantic is, frankly, pants so we are too upset about any delays likely to be caused by getting the jobs finished. It looks as if it might be possible to leave in about 8 or 9 days time but we will have to wait and see how things develop in the Atlantic. It’s about 6 days or so down to Tenerife and we have to do the trip under sail as we don’t carry enough fuel to do it on the moto, so we have to wait for the winds. Good exercise in patience. I will update once we are ready to depart.

A final note.  If you use this link  https://share.delorme.com/TantrumCruising it will take you to the Delorme page associated with our beacon.  When we are moving, the beacon sends a position message every 4 hours so you can follow our progress.  Enjoy.

Mal de mare and engines.

Blog 9 Nov 16
As readers of this blog will know, winds is what dictates where you go and when you go in a sailing boat. Also, how fast you go and how pleasant the voyage is. So you will, appreciate the fact that this is a tail of the winds and the seas and just how not nice things can be.
I flew out of Newquay on Friday 4 November to Gatwick, spent a not unpleasant night in one of the Premier Inns there before catching the 0630 flight to Corfu on 5 November. I met the third member of our crew, Bob Bickerdike, in the check in queue, although we were not seated together. We were both expecting to spend a few days in Lefkas before setting off as the weather forecast was not looking good, with high winds from not really the right direction.

Waiting for the winds of change…

However, we emerged from baggage reclaim to be greeted by Steve and the news that he intended to set off that evening. Looking at the forecasts, it seemed likely that we could head to Messina and beyond on a single long tack from Lefkas. This would at least get us moving and put a few hundred miles on the clock before the weather truly clagged in.
So, after a trip by ferry and car (via Rampage to collect stuff) we were ready to depart by about 5pm, setting off south about between Lefkada Island and Meganisi. There was no wind (as expected) and we headed south, past the northern end of Kefalonia, where we picked up some wind. Holding as a course as far south as possible, we soon had two reefs in the main and genoa, heading somewhat further north than ideal but making anything up to 8.5 knots. The waves continued to build, as is to be expected. Moving on to two hours on watch and four hours off, we continued through the night.  
With the boat moving as much as it was, I would, normally have taken some sea sickness pills. However, I’d neglected to pick any up from Rampage and it turned out that there were none aboard Tantrum. So, as dawn broke, I was feeling rougher and rougher until finally I succumbed and started being sick. That continued for the next day or so… I spent my time lying on my bunk waiting to die, the falling asleep, waking up, being sick and repeat… Not much use to anyone 

Ferries and petrochemical works: the less picturesque side of Milazzo.

By about midnight on Sunday, the wind had started to ease, the motion of the sea had abated and I was about to rejoin the living. With the wind disappearing, we continued under motors. Then the port motor died. And restarted. And died. None of this was apparent to me in my befuddled state but things were made clear when Steve appeared in my cabin, summoning me to sort the engine out.
The sight glass on the fuel line was mucky but didn’t seem to be the dreaded bug (which tends to produce a sticky black grunge rather than the suspended crap in the sight glass). So, full of hope of a simple solution, I removed the fuel filter from the engine. I was slightly puzzled to hear a hissing noise for a few seconds but thought little of it. Then I found that the filter was empty. I fitted a fresh filter and tried to prime it with the lift pump, to no avail. At this point, my stomach was declaring revolt and I gave up for the night, reckoning that it was probably the lift pump that was the problem.
After a brief visit to the bucket, I retired to bed whilst we made slow progress under sail and motor towards Messina. The sea was calming down nicely and by mid morning I was approaching something like normal. I even managed to keep a Mars bar down. Result.
I was then pointed at the engine again. Thinking it through, the hissing noise from the night before showed a vacuum between the engine and the fuel tank. That could only be down to one thing: a blocked fuel pipe. So, after checking the pipe run and making sure we had some spare rubber fuel pipe aboard, I cut through the rubber pipe linking the tank to the copper pipe and used the scuba regulator as a source of high pressure air to blow through the pipework, both back into the tank and along through to the engine. This worked just fine, albeit that Steve was in the engine bay and got a bit of diesel spray. Once connected up again it took a few minutes work to prime the system with the lift pump and we had two engines again.
After a quick discussion, we agreed that if the port engine behaved itself, we’d carry on beyond Messina to Milazzo on the north coast of Sicily. If it didn’t, we’d go into Messina to get help in repairing it. 
In the event, the engine behaved itself and we passed through the dogem car ring that is the Messina Straits between Regio de Calabria and Messina. I think we must have timed our arrival to coincide with the departure time for a whole bunch of ferries because it was really quite exciting.
The winds round the northern end of the straits were, as they often are, confused and strong. We’d been carrying the mainsail up but had to drop it in a hurry at this point. The intention had been to sail but the waves left over from the previous days winds made being too far offshore uncomfortable, so we gave up on sailing and motored, arriving into Malazzo about midnight.
The CA Captains Mate app gave us some information on Malazzo. It advised us to try for a berth on the inside of the pontoons so as to avoid the wash from the ferries which use the port. No chance of that! We found a spot on the outside of the pontoons, moored up and had a bite to eat before getting some sleep.

The nicer side of the place! Town hall and Coast Guard station.

The following day (Tuesday) was spent going over the boat and sorting out anything that’d failed to work as expected or had got broken or worn during the trip. The sailbag had got a rip, which Steve repaired. The furling line for the genoa had broken, so it was replaced with a new one (its now a dyneema one, as that was the only 8mm rope to be had in Milazzo) and we sorted out some chafes on the reefing lines.
So that’s us up to date. We’re looking closely at the weather forecasts, trying out various passage plans. In an ideal world, the best plan would be to sail from here to Sardinia and then on to the Balearics and Spain. However, we may yet have to settle for a quick dash to Palermo on the western end of Sicily, wait there for a few days and then head either direct to Mallorca or to Sardinia. Whatever we wind up doing, we are stuck here for the next few days: Friday is the earliest we might be able to move.
Well. I thought that was to date but things never go smoothly do they? Having checked the filters for crud, we found them still contaminated. Clearly too much crud not to do something about it, so on Thursday a gang of Italians came and pumped out the tank, cleaned the fuel and put it back into the tank. Sorted. We thought. Then the starboard engine quit on us under test. Tried the remedy as before. Failed. Gave up in disgust at about seven pm. Luigi and his gang summoned for this morning.
We will escape tomorrow. On to Palermo then probably Mallorca if the weather holds.

Oh, and sea sick pills?  Found a tub of them in the bottom of the bag I picked up from Rampage!

Puttng aboat to bed, then Gibraltar and Beyond

This blog is being written to let you all know just what will be going on over the next few months as well as letting you into the secretive world of the Byrnes in Cornwall. Not a vast quantity of boaty stuff but enough to keep you interested and not stray too far from the ethos of the blog (ie to be boaty).

So, first off the Byrnes in Cornwall. We are back in Pendra Loweth, the holiday development we have stayed on for the past two winters. We’ve moved house but not estate: now in number 91 as opposed to number 112. Its fairly weird, as its not the same house but it is identical to the last one and you keep getting these deja vu type moments.

Julia is fully back into student mode and is indulging in minor panics about getting work done on time. However, it’s nothing like as bad as the first year; she does seem to have realised that she can actually do the work in the time allowed. She has also become involved with the Mature Students Society (an oxymoron if ever I saw one) and has been arranging things like quiz nights.

I’ve been doing some work down at the gig club, as per last year and the supervets crew has started rowing together again. I also cox a renamed group out on a Thursday morning: no longer improvers, just a social row! If the weather keeps nice we intend to check out the local shoreside cafes for coffee and cakes.

Lady J on her winter berth.

Lady J (my Hurley 18 project boat) didn’t suffer too much from neglect through the summer months and we’ve managed to escape on her for a couple of sails. Mainly fairly light winds, so no challenging sailing, just nice pottering about the Fal. I’ve now moved her on to a half tide berth (that’s a berth which only has enough depth of water to float her for half the time or less) near Devoran. The berth is such that a very high spring tide is required to get her on to it and last Wednesday was the last opportunity before my next adventure. She needs to be tucked up safe from the winter storms before that starts as I won’t be here to move her into a marina berth if a big storm threatens.

Which neatly leads me on to the my next big adventure. Regular readers will remember Steve and Linda off the catamaran Tantrum. Steve has decided, given that he is likely to be based in the Caribbean over the next few years, that it would make sense to have Tantrum there rather than Greece. He appealed for crew to make the trip and so I’ve agreed to help him sail the boat to Barbados.

I meet him and Tantrum in Corfu on 5 November along with a third crew member. Then, presuming the weather is OK, we will set off for Gibraltar and then Tenerife. Steve and Linda intend spending Christmas and New Year in Tenerife whilst I come back to UK. Early in January I will rejoin the boat and, all being well, we will depart for Barbados on 10 January as part of the Odyssey Rally. Julia will be joining us for this leg because, as she puts it, its a very big tick off her bucket list! She clearly had some well spent factime with the head of the English department over the weekend, as she has got leave of absence from her course.

Tantrum in Lefkas.  Note the logo on the bow: light winds sails also carry the logo but like 10 metres high….

During the trip, I will post blogs when we have access to the internet and time to write. I may resort to something a little more diary like as I suspect that I may not have much time to deliver the polished pieces of deathless prose that regular readers have come to expect. Indeed, if our experiences of making long passages is anything to go by, when we’re not at sea, I’ll be trying to catch up on lost sleep.

That said, Tantrum carries a deLorme intouch satellite communicator. This cunning little device transmits our position regularly and plots our course on a website. I will post the link to the site shortly on facebook so you can follow our day to day progress along with pithy comments (the gadget has a texting capability so as can send short messages).

So, now you know why I needed to find Lady J a safe winter home: it’s because I won’t be here to look after her during the winter months. The trip up to Devoran went well albeit at an hour I’ve tried to believe was fictional since retiring. Julia dropped me at the sailing club with the beaching legs at 0630. I rowed out to Lady J in the dinghy, loaded the legs on board and set off into the growing light.

Under sail early October.  Glorious day on a crowded Fal estuary.

I had no trouble finding Restronguet Creek which was nicely full of water. High tide at the entrance to the creek was due at 0812, so I was aiming to be at the berth by about 0750 or so. I’d laid out mooring lines the day before and Julia was bringing the car round to meet me and take lines from me. I actually arrived on time but J was running a few minutes late: no worries, the lines I’d laid the day before worked perfectly and there was just enough depth of water to get Lady J into the berth. It then too us about 40 minutes to fit the berthing legs and adjust the mooring lines, by which time the boat was firmly aground in her safe berth.

Well, that’s it. The next entry on this blog will be from either Corfu (if the weather’s pant and we have to wait for it to clear) or the Aeolian Islands (if the weather’s good and we make good time).