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RAOC Gazette - page 155

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Publication date 1983
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Early date 1983
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Transcription Bosun Byles (or the Tailor of Gloucester) sewing a fine scam.
why mariners don't cat Weetabix. Healthy force three to four
wind on our starboard quarter with readier and full mains' 1
set.
Clinically observe Starboard Watch as they slowly,
reluctantly and wearily stagger around trying to don their oilies
and wake up. Skipper, too, oozes into existence and slowly
rises through the hatchway to check that we are still some-
where at sea and not approaching Birmingham. With clear blue
sky, cruise along at one knot with twin jibs only set. Dream
sailing. Bucket over the side and full ' naked body wash *—just
like the magazines. (Which magazines? they all cry!) Many
compromising photographs taken but at least all is now clean
and aired, most appropriate as today is my wedding anniversary!
Opened my large plastic bottle of ' vin de park bench' for
celebratory drink all round. Wind piped up to twelve knots
with ' Soldier' doing eight knots—most efficient sailing.
FRIDAY 29TH APRIL—DAY 5
GRAVEYARD WATCH. Exciting sailing through a crystal
clear night. Exhilarating and satisfying. It was noticed that a
great deal of water had accumulated in the forepeak and was
not emptying through the drain holes into the bilge. In order
to delay the sinking of our ship a fraction, Eddie, our ' Mr
Sparks,' and I systematically bailed it out into the heads with a
saucepan—had to smile as we bailed, hundreds of miles out, lug-
ging full saucepans of water about. Gave up in the end and
passed this minor administrative problem over to the Purser,
who fixed it by getting his hands wet. Should think so too.
Wind now south to south east force five. Took over as Mother
again at 2000 hours. Time does fly when you're having fun!
SATURDAY 30TH APRIL—DAY 6
NO Weetabix for this breakfast either.
Gas consumption
calculated to be excessive at the average rate of two bottles per
day so hot drinks to be cut down now that we are further
South and the temperature is higher. After lunch, sat on fore-
deck to repair reacher and whip some lines. Felt somewhat like
the Tailor of Gloucester, sewing a fine seam. Working there
was a sheer delight—clear blue skies, cruising at six knots
through sparkling, crystal sea with dolphins gambolling around
the bows. Full set of sails with wind on starboard quarter—
ocean cruising at its best, but it can't last long!
SUNDAY 1ST MAY—DAY 7
GRAVEYARD watch again. Not too unpleasant. Changed
from one hundred and twenty degrees to more Northerly course
of 065 degrees True, which put us on port tack for the first
time for four days. Now really heading for home. Clive, our
Engineer, popped his head out of the hatchway and automatically
threw his orange peel to port, so used were we to being on
starboard tack. The peel boomeranged fair and square in his
face. Oh, the perils of this trans-ocean adventure!
MONDAY 2ND MAY—DAY 8
WIND rising again astern and a fair sea building up. Cream-
ing along at eight to nine knots with twin jibs and a full mains' 1
set. Exciting sailing indeed. Sudden cry of " Echo sounder on!
Whales on port bow!". Mad scramble to put the sounder on
and prepare to start the engine. (Note: Echo sounder is
switched on as, hopefully its sound waves will persuade a whale
that the yacht is not another whale wilh which to mate.) Sure
enough, two sperm whales paraded majestically past, blowing
and snorting as they went. Reduced rig before dusk, having
to come into the wind to lower the mains' 1. We realized then
how big the sea was. Kept up the No. 2 genoa, only, though
without losing much speed. Off watch at 2000 hours and
climbed wearily into bunk. At 2130 hours, the Starboard
Watch reported that the genoa repeatedly kept backing on the
required course so they were going to gybe the yacht round—
a very simple manoeuvre—but the helm would just not take her
over. No response whatsoever. All hell let loose. Down came
the genoa, up the No. 2 jib tops' 1. Down the tops' 1, up the
storm jib as the wind was now force seven. We, the off duty
watch, could only lie and listen and curse that we were
getting no sleep! 'Soldier' now rolling abominably, Skipper
called. One of our Watch got up to make tea for deck Watch
—they were soaked and exhausted. Steering was declared de-
funct and irreparable until morning so we could only lie a'
hull till daybreak. By 2300 hours the gale was up to force
eight. On Graveyard Watch, sat with Eddie in cockpit as he
vainly tried to get an answer to his Pan Pan radio calls.
TUESDAY 3RD MAY—DAY 9
MIDDLE WATCH. Wind north to north west force eight.
Eddie made repeated Pan Pan calls for six hours before
they were answered at 0500 hours. Big seas and much rolling
but no sea-sickness (too tired). Canadian Coastguard at St
John's, Newfoundland, answered messages passed via them to
MOD for reassurance to families. Further inspection of steer-
ing indicates all well inboard so damage must be underneath.
Wheel feels as if there is nothing under it. Clearly now our
voyage to UK must be abandoned. Our nearest landfall is
Newfoundland some four hundred and fifty miles north west
and the wind is now directly north west. On Forenoon Watch
rigged jury rudder with spinaker pole. Some minimal control
obtained. Looking over the side gave the impression that the
rudder had disappeared. I volunteered to swim underneath as it
also seemed that the skeg might be loose. If so, serious
structural damage could result. I went down in fairly heavy
seas secured with life harness and line. A line was rigged
underneath the transom so that, by hanging on, I could rise
and fall with the yacht. Thankfully, the skeg was undamaged
but the rudder was nowhere to be seen, with only about twelve
inches of the stock remaining. Had the lower pintle (hinge)
worked loose and then the rudder stock snapped? Or was it whale
damage? We didn't (and never will) know. The quick dip over,
I was unceremoniously hauled back on board like a dying
porpoise and given the most revolting, but welcome, tot of rum
by the Ship's Doctor.
Very quiet Dog Watch—disappointment throughout the crew
and frustration too, especially for Skipper and Mate. We feel so
helpless. We just don't have the kit or tools to make a strong
jury rudder which would withstand this sea. We wait for St
John's Coastguard to contact us. 2000 hours—Mother Watch
again. What was that about time flying when you're having
fun? Just my luck to get another gale for it. Wind back up to
force eight, but from south west so it is possible to sail with
trysail and No. 2 jib, uncomfortably, towards St John's. We
could steer with the sails with this wind if it were less strong, but
it could take weeks to reach St John's. The heavy seas are
also knocking us off course. Deck watches are wet, cold and
unexciting with the crew -suddenly tired and not in high spirits.
WEDNESDAY 4TH MAY—DAY 10
WAVES now up to twenty foot but ' Soldier' rides them well
but with an evil motion. During the night the wind was too
strong for the jib to stop flogging, so down it came and we
hove to under trysail alone. Eddie has had his earphones on
continuously since the disaster, even when the battery charger
fell on his head causing no small indentation. We hear that a
Canadian Coastguard Tug ' The Jackman ' is on its way to tow
us to St John's. Sighted a Danish container ship on collision
course—spoke to her on VHF and asked her to keep clear, to
which we get a cheerful reply that he had never hit a yacht
yet (that he knew of!) and didn't reckon he was going to start
now! ' Jackman ' reported that she would arrive by mid morn-
ing tomorrow. Gale decreases and laughter again in the Dogs.
— 128 —
(Continued on page 160.)
Book number R0406