Depeche-toi Etienne
Thursday 18th June 2015
46.55.60N 06.59.95W The position is where we are now, nearly half way to La Corunna, but let’s go back briefly to Plymouth.
There were thirteen elements to our refit and some significant discoveries. The new standing rigging we had requested included removing the tensioner from the split back stay as it didn’t work. The plate at the end of the boom that takes the mainsheet had pulled out of the groove and on closer inspection revealed the cause as corrosion. A long split revealed that the end of boom fitting was all ready to spring off in the next blow, which could have been a problem. So Zoonie now sports a new boom.
Another discovery was the bar that wraps around the front of the mast and supports the spinnaker pole when housed was fixed too far back on the sides of mast making stowage difficult. As I type the pole has the foresail flying on it now and was so much easier to set from its new position.
So with that all sorted and having said farewell to our Devon family we were all ready to set sail. A kind French couple came to assist with our lines and as the lady and I prepared the bow line her husband was chatting away with Rob. We waited for them to finish but the boys were in fact waiting for us. At last my companion called “Depeche-toi Etienne” and the impasse was broken. We set off into the blue in a 10kn NW wind and our spirits were high.
But as might be expected by the late afternoon we were feeling the enormity of not seeing family, friends and dog for the coming year. The wisdom that comes with age consoled us that this was all part of the equation and we could deal with it.
We had a fine sail right across the Channel and only fired up the motor the next morning to push us through the inner passage off Ile d’Ouessant (island of birdsong) with the favourable ebbing spring tide.
Thirty odd years ago I came past here for the first time under sail with hubby number two, Peter, in our 12 ton wooden double ender (pointy at both ends) Hillyard, Autumn of Arun bound for Corunna. So young and excited was I, without thinking I said “Isn’t this just the biggest adventure of your life?” To which he replied rather sombrely,
“No you are!”
This time the winds were favourable to fly our blue cruising chute and we were making around 6 knots buck shee, nice. On this second day we were feeling much better. It takes 24hrs plus to get into the swing of on-board life again. The prospect of a few days at sea, night watches, lack of sleep, settling tummies, emotions etc all make the first day the hardest. By the second day the lack of sleep hits and sheer tiredness means we drop off to sleep without a problem. We also take day time naps as and when we please and I was in the middle of a lovely dream yesterday afternoon when a euro jet flew over a few metres above the mast so that was the end of that!
Later in the afternoon a racing pigeon joined us and rested on the side-deck next to its tubs of water and oats. We both wondered if it would survive the night. We watched the sunset together, I think it was soaking up the last warmth from the sun, or maybe it was pagan.
It is now day three and we are crossing, albeit slowly, the Biscay Abyssal Plain, where the flat seabed is a mix of sand and silt over 4000 metres down. We have just sailed through a frenzy of dolphins fishing, some taking time out to investigate Zoonie’s hull.
24 Jun 2015 19:04:00
43.22’N 08.22’W An evening of light entertainment
Have you ever had a grey day that was ok because you were looking forward to the evening’s entertainment you had planned, maybe a film or musical? The lights go out, all around is inky blackness and suddenly from the night the star performers arrive, their white shimmering costumes fit perfectly to their graceful forms. In groups the dolphins perform around us with displays of speed and unison too beautiful and spell binding for words. As Rob suggested they looked like the ethereal spirits that escaped from the Ark of the Covenant in the film Raiders of the Lost Arc, but without the malevolence. As they leave we admire the curtains of their stage, creamy patches of ocean, that sparkle as we cross them as if reflecting the stars – but not on this cloudy night, the sparkle is all their own making.
In the early morning the wind picked up and poles and preventers and a full rig seemed a risky idea, so at 4.30am while I took Zoonie onto a comfortable angle to the wind Rob reefed both sails and we crawled into another grey day.
Then along came another pigeon, but this one was a totally different ball of feathers to the first well behaved chap. From the second he/she landed he was hell bent on getting down below and causing havoc. We discouraged him with a comfortable towelling seat in the cockpit and supper of cooked rice and water, all of which he ate. But he wouldn’t give up. Leaving messages everywhere, he took his chance while we were both busy and shot below. His triumph was short lived as Rob grabbed him by the leg and threw him overboard. ‘Such fun’ he thought circling above our heads before landing on the spreader out of our reach. Yes you are right, he sneaked back onto the afterdeck, then the coach-roof and back into the cockpit where all we could do was shoo him behind the wheel.
We entered Corunna in thick fog just as Peter and I had done in Autumn of Arun all those years ago, and as soon as we were tied up the free loading pigeon flew off.
Corunna on fire!
Corunna held an atmosphere of anticipation on the eve of their celebration of summer festival. The lady in the marina made it quite clear the event was well worth a visit. Indeed it was. We wandered along the shoreline of Playa del Orzan watching hundreds of happy families drinking and chatting around their bonfires and BBQs. A thirty foot high two tier construction covered in effigies presumably of politicians or local officials was burned after a firework display at midnight. Dozens of ambulances and a fire engine were ready in case of accident, but the crowds were full of joie de vivre and just out for a good time.
Today, Weds 24th, we walked to the impressive Tower of Hercules, which has stood at the entrance to Corunna since Roman times and today continues shine brightly at night guiding mariners to a safe home-coming.
On a more mundane front we have established the black water tank pump does not in fact pump but we have yet to find out why. Tomorrow we will get the manual bilge pump working again and try the anchor windlass which hasn’t been used since last August in Studland Bay!