Shepherding

The traditional advice for sailing east to the Azores is to take loads of extra diesel as you are likely to experience long periods of dead calm and flat sea. As I write, we are 4 days into the passage, broad reaching in 23 knots of wind with a lively sea having hardly used the engine – but we are running the engine now…………

Yesterday afternoon we had a call from Cliff on AWOL to say that his auto steering had packed up. We had noticed that ours was working very hard in the big swells and his must have said “I’ve had enough”. With only the two of them on board and his (new) crew used to a tiller, they were struggling. With night approaching, he was obviously concerned and asked if he could ease his burden (and his crews particularly) by following our lights while they hand steer. Of course we were happy to help but it first involved catching them up as their lighter yacht had pulled ahead. So we used the engine to overhaul them. Once in front, we have supplemented our lighting with our anchor light and a lantern hanging in the stern. This is clearly contrary to the collision regulations lighting code but we are mere specs on a vast, empty ocean and the other spec is trying to follow this spec. The next dilemma was how to stay in front, because his Elan 44 is lighter and faster than Hejira which is more loaded down with spares, stores and diesel. AWOL could reef back and slow to Hejira’s pace but this would just prolong the agony for them so we are supplementing our speed with the help of a little engine power to stay in front. Cliff says he fitted a new auto very recently and he has the original on board which was working but tired. We are expecting the wind to drop and hopefully the sea will flatten with it so he will try to swap the autos then. Prudence, however, suggests that we should continue our shepherding duties in case of another failure but, looking on the bright side, we have plenty of diesel on board!

With the overcast sky and rain, I took a brief opportunity when the sun ‘popped its head out’ to take a dubious sun sight with the sextant. The sun was less of an orb, more of a fuzzy blob and was that the horizon or another swell?

Ollie writes:-

Hello again.

Since the last blog, the ocean hasn’t managed to calm itself down.

We’re still getting thrown about a bit, and it’s pissed with rain for most of the day.

However there’s no danger of this becoming anything less than an enjoyable experience.

Because, despite the big swells and the drizzle, we’re still living a charmed existence.

Here’s how the day goes for me…

Get up around 10am (I’m on watch from midnight till 4am).

Eat a light breakfast of granola and dried blueberries.

Accompanied by an instant coffee if we’re sailing; a Nespresso if the engine or generator’s running.

Then it’s a few hours of reading before preparing for dinner.

Today we ate in style at about 4pm: lamb shanks with mash potato and green beans.

All washed down with our favourite non-specific red wine out of a cardboard box.

Then after dinner – time for a film.

Today it was Woody Allen’s magnum opus – Annie Hall.

Both the skipper and I thought it was great; Barry wasn’t convinced.

After the film I’ve been trying to get some kip before my watch starts, though I rarely manage it.

I take over from Barry whose watch runs from 8pm-12am.

And I hand over to the skipper whose on from 4am-8am.

Unfortunately neither of them are Game of Thrones fans, so my quips about being the ‘Night’s Watch’ are greeted with blank looks.

One rather bizarre thing to report from the last few days – Barry and I seem to be stricken with hay fever.

Out in the cockpit we both find ourselves sneezing and wheezing.

We’ve asked the skipper to find out what the pollen count is, out here in the North Atlantic.

But he doesn’t think it’d be worth it.