I'm going nuts here trying to will the wind to stop blowing from the north and blow from anywhere else, and not quite so much of it, either. We made fantastic progress from Royan, after the canals. It took a few days to put the boat back together, then we island hopped, Ile de Yeu, Belle Ile and Ile de Groix, where we were moored for 6 days waiting for the winds to abate. When it slacked a bit we managed to get to Loctudy (not far from Quimper). It's quite nice here and has great wifi, so we can keep looking at different weather sites several times a day, but it doesn't look as if we'll be able to leave here until Thurs, to get through the Raz de Sein, then on to Camaret on Fri, maybe. We then have to wait for wind not from north to get us up the Chenal du Four and across the Channel, probably to Dartmouth. From there it's a couple of days to Yarmouth Isle of Wight.
We were confident that we'd get back in time for Andy's niece's wedding in Manc on 22nd May, but not so sure now. Not even sure I'll make it for 4th June to fly to NZ. Actually, if that's the case, I'll get a ferry or plane from here to UK.
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
I WANT TO GO HOME!
Monday, 10 May 2010
Saturday, 24 April 2010
From sea to shining sea
From Royan
Well, against all odds, we made it from the Med to the Atlantic. It was a bit of struggle at times. The Canal de la Robine and the Canal du Midi are both just too shallow for a boat of our draught. We thought we drew 1.37 m which would increase to just over 1.4 m in fresh water. (Obviously you float higher in salt water, it’s being more dense.) Well, we must have gone aground about a hundred times. We were towed twice by holiday folk in rented canal boats, once by a car along the towpath!, twice we winched ourselves off with long ropes and the rest of the times we just pushed and shoved with our long bit of wood, which was left over from making the mast supports – and thank goodness it was, as it came in v. useful on a number of occasions. I used it several times as a narrow and wobbly gangplank for getting ashore with ropes, when we went aground just near to the edge, but not near enough to jump ashore. That happened a lot, as you get a build up of mud all along the edge. If we’d stayed in the middle all the time, we’d have done better, but you have to stop sometimes. If for nothing else, there are locks with big gates and they shut at 6pm.
At the big series of 4 locks coming into Castelnaudary the eclusier (lock-keeper) measured our draught with a big stick thing, and it came out at just over 1.6 m. Well the VNF (Voies Navigables de France) say that La Robine is 1.4m and the Midi is 1.5m and the Garonne is 1.6m. Still we managed it in the end. Once we got onto the Canal Lateral de Garonne, after Toulouse, it was better, except we still went aground at the edges quite a few times when we tried to stop.
Also, we had to keep clearing out the engine water intake filter, which got clogged with leaves and stuff all the time, because of the shallow water, and trying to rev ourselves off the mud. If the engine had overheated and blown up, we’d have been completely b***ered.
It was worth it though. It was a lovely experience, apart from the angst of not knowing if we were going to make it and whether we’d have to get craned out and shipped on a lorry. Also, the uphill locks were pretty hard work. I lost pounds in those first few days, running around at locks and hauling on ropes, the water boiling all round the boat, as we tried to protect the mast from getting damaged on the walls of the locks, not to mention other lock users. The peeps who rent the holiday boats get about half an hour’s instruction in how to drive them, if that. Luckily we didn’t see too many. There was a flurry of them around during the Easter week, but after that, we saw very few other boats. The canals were mainly peaceful and very beautiful. Inland France was a joy to behold as the spring unfolded before our eyes, with waterside flowers, trees coming into leaf, and lots of fluffy ducklings, not to mention the herons, flamingos and frogs – (obviously you’re going to get frogs in France!) We didn’t actually see any of them, but we heard them croaking – “Don’t eat us!” they said.
Shortly after Castelnaudary we went over the watershed and started on the downhill bit. The locks going down are much easier and more relaxed. One of the worst things was the plastic and other cack in the water in Toulouse, especially in the locks. We picked up some plastic bags on the propeller and had to stop 2 or 3 times to try and clear it off. Not easy. You have to tie up alongside somewhere and use the boathook blindly through opaque brown water. One time we tried to leave the lock and we had no power, as it turned out our accelerator cable had broken, due to the extra strain of trying to turn heavy duty plastic sheets through the water which get bound tightly round the spinning propeller. The nice eclusier filled the lock again for us and said we could stay there and try and fix it. Andy managed to rig up a system where the cable comes up through a hole in the cockpit floor and you have to pull on it to go faster, and push it back in to go slower. It was a bit in the way and you had to be careful not to tread on it, but it got us this far. Here in Royan, we were to buy a new cable to fit before we put to sea again.
Once we were out of the last lock, we did about 150 km of river, past Bordeaux to Royan. We did it in three days, using three tides. You can’t go against the tide, as the current is violently fast and strong. We tried to go into Pauillac to get the mast put up, but we went aground! So we ate dinner on the mud and waited for the tide to start coming back in and lift us, then we spent the night rolling around on a buoy – (tee hee).
This morning we had the mast put back up by crane and it’s now going to take us a few days to put everything back together. Andy’s busy trying to get the standing rigging (the cables which hold the mast up straight) all at the right tension, then we have to put the boom back on, refit the pole which holds the radar, the pole which holds the wind-generator, and re-fit all the electric and aerial wires, get the VHF radio and the Navtec working again and the GPS. I hope I can remember how to fit the sails back on, and get all the reefing lines in the right order. I’ve been trying to scrub the muck and filth off the boat which we gathered from Mediterranean moorings and the filthy muddy ropes from all the locks. The boat is now permanently stained green from the gazillion leaf-cases which fell off the plane and lime trees lining the canals.
I’d do the canals again, but next time I’d go by bike. There is a fab cycle track all the way along the old towpath, and no worries about trying to keep floating, or doing the locks, and there are some really beautiful Chambres d’Hotes.
Meantime, it’s back to getting the weather forecasts and studying the tides.
Well, against all odds, we made it from the Med to the Atlantic. It was a bit of struggle at times. The Canal de la Robine and the Canal du Midi are both just too shallow for a boat of our draught. We thought we drew 1.37 m which would increase to just over 1.4 m in fresh water. (Obviously you float higher in salt water, it’s being more dense.) Well, we must have gone aground about a hundred times. We were towed twice by holiday folk in rented canal boats, once by a car along the towpath!, twice we winched ourselves off with long ropes and the rest of the times we just pushed and shoved with our long bit of wood, which was left over from making the mast supports – and thank goodness it was, as it came in v. useful on a number of occasions. I used it several times as a narrow and wobbly gangplank for getting ashore with ropes, when we went aground just near to the edge, but not near enough to jump ashore. That happened a lot, as you get a build up of mud all along the edge. If we’d stayed in the middle all the time, we’d have done better, but you have to stop sometimes. If for nothing else, there are locks with big gates and they shut at 6pm.
At the big series of 4 locks coming into Castelnaudary the eclusier (lock-keeper) measured our draught with a big stick thing, and it came out at just over 1.6 m. Well the VNF (Voies Navigables de France) say that La Robine is 1.4m and the Midi is 1.5m and the Garonne is 1.6m. Still we managed it in the end. Once we got onto the Canal Lateral de Garonne, after Toulouse, it was better, except we still went aground at the edges quite a few times when we tried to stop.
Also, we had to keep clearing out the engine water intake filter, which got clogged with leaves and stuff all the time, because of the shallow water, and trying to rev ourselves off the mud. If the engine had overheated and blown up, we’d have been completely b***ered.
It was worth it though. It was a lovely experience, apart from the angst of not knowing if we were going to make it and whether we’d have to get craned out and shipped on a lorry. Also, the uphill locks were pretty hard work. I lost pounds in those first few days, running around at locks and hauling on ropes, the water boiling all round the boat, as we tried to protect the mast from getting damaged on the walls of the locks, not to mention other lock users. The peeps who rent the holiday boats get about half an hour’s instruction in how to drive them, if that. Luckily we didn’t see too many. There was a flurry of them around during the Easter week, but after that, we saw very few other boats. The canals were mainly peaceful and very beautiful. Inland France was a joy to behold as the spring unfolded before our eyes, with waterside flowers, trees coming into leaf, and lots of fluffy ducklings, not to mention the herons, flamingos and frogs – (obviously you’re going to get frogs in France!) We didn’t actually see any of them, but we heard them croaking – “Don’t eat us!” they said.
Shortly after Castelnaudary we went over the watershed and started on the downhill bit. The locks going down are much easier and more relaxed. One of the worst things was the plastic and other cack in the water in Toulouse, especially in the locks. We picked up some plastic bags on the propeller and had to stop 2 or 3 times to try and clear it off. Not easy. You have to tie up alongside somewhere and use the boathook blindly through opaque brown water. One time we tried to leave the lock and we had no power, as it turned out our accelerator cable had broken, due to the extra strain of trying to turn heavy duty plastic sheets through the water which get bound tightly round the spinning propeller. The nice eclusier filled the lock again for us and said we could stay there and try and fix it. Andy managed to rig up a system where the cable comes up through a hole in the cockpit floor and you have to pull on it to go faster, and push it back in to go slower. It was a bit in the way and you had to be careful not to tread on it, but it got us this far. Here in Royan, we were to buy a new cable to fit before we put to sea again.
Once we were out of the last lock, we did about 150 km of river, past Bordeaux to Royan. We did it in three days, using three tides. You can’t go against the tide, as the current is violently fast and strong. We tried to go into Pauillac to get the mast put up, but we went aground! So we ate dinner on the mud and waited for the tide to start coming back in and lift us, then we spent the night rolling around on a buoy – (tee hee).
This morning we had the mast put back up by crane and it’s now going to take us a few days to put everything back together. Andy’s busy trying to get the standing rigging (the cables which hold the mast up straight) all at the right tension, then we have to put the boom back on, refit the pole which holds the radar, the pole which holds the wind-generator, and re-fit all the electric and aerial wires, get the VHF radio and the Navtec working again and the GPS. I hope I can remember how to fit the sails back on, and get all the reefing lines in the right order. I’ve been trying to scrub the muck and filth off the boat which we gathered from Mediterranean moorings and the filthy muddy ropes from all the locks. The boat is now permanently stained green from the gazillion leaf-cases which fell off the plane and lime trees lining the canals.
I’d do the canals again, but next time I’d go by bike. There is a fab cycle track all the way along the old towpath, and no worries about trying to keep floating, or doing the locks, and there are some really beautiful Chambres d’Hotes.
Meantime, it’s back to getting the weather forecasts and studying the tides.
Thursday, 8 April 2010
Life on the Canal
We're inland! Weird! Sally's never been above sea level before!
At the mo I'm in McDonald's in Carcassonne - the first bit of internet we've had for several days.
The canals are a bit shallow really. We keep going aground. We've been towed off once and winched ourselves off with ropes once, after I made a heroic leap ashore. We've got our lock technique off to a fine art now. But it's pretty knackering - a lot of rope handling - very very long ropes, too. I think the downhill ones, after Castelnaudary will be easier.
Carcassonne is pretty amazing. We had a look at the medieval fortified Cite today. The little French towns we go through on the canal are quiet, pretty and unspoilt. There are lots of wine chateaux, too. Lovely.
Shame it's been very cold a lot of the time.
Next stop, Toulouse.
Gotta get out of McDonalds.
At the mo I'm in McDonald's in Carcassonne - the first bit of internet we've had for several days.
The canals are a bit shallow really. We keep going aground. We've been towed off once and winched ourselves off with ropes once, after I made a heroic leap ashore. We've got our lock technique off to a fine art now. But it's pretty knackering - a lot of rope handling - very very long ropes, too. I think the downhill ones, after Castelnaudary will be easier.
Carcassonne is pretty amazing. We had a look at the medieval fortified Cite today. The little French towns we go through on the canal are quiet, pretty and unspoilt. There are lots of wine chateaux, too. Lovely.
Shame it's been very cold a lot of the time.
Next stop, Toulouse.
Gotta get out of McDonalds.
Wednesday, 31 March 2010
Busy times in Port-la-Nouvelle
Well, here we are in la belle France. I'd like to say we're now tucked up warm and safe from the fearsome tramontane and marin winds, but as I write, the boat is bouncing around on the pontoon and the wind is screaming through the rigging.
It's been a busy few weeks. I’ll try and summarise.
Valencia is a lovely city and good to get around on bikes - except for the slippery bits of paving! The main river through the city has been diverted and the old river bed is now a long narrow park with grass and trees, footpaths, cycle tracks and lovely old bridges with many access points to the city. There are beautiful old buildings as well as state of the art modern stuff, particularly the City of Arts and Science.
After I fell off my bike I went into shock and had to lie on a park bench, trying not be sick and looking like a wino. Next day, Andy was allowed out shopping on his own, as I was resting up my bruised knees and elbows. He left my bike locked to the pontoon and forgot to take the other lock. He’d bought some jubilee clips at the “ferreteria” (iron-mongers, not ferrets) so jubileed his bike to the fence outside of the supermarket. When he saw his bike being lifted he made a heroic leap out of the check-out queue and managed to wrest it from the thieving senora. He has no idea what the stream of Spanish assaulting his ears meant, but it probably wasn’t, “Okay, it’s a fair cop, gov.” When he turned round he was being watched by three of the supermarket staff who thought he was running off with goods unpaid for!
We also had a very very good and cheap vegetarian Menu del Día at a Naturista restaurant we found. Everyone kept their clothes on.
We left the huge America’s Cup marina, only to find our engine cooling intake had stopped working about a mile or so out. We carried on under sail while Andy took stuff to bits. He put it back together and it still didn’t work so we SAILED back into the marina! It was our finest hour, short-tacking past the Oficina del Puerto and back into the mooring we’d just left. Luckily there weren’t many other boats coming out at that time of year. Anyway, Andy realised he’d put it back wrong, and when he put it back right, it worked. I think we’d just picked up a plastic bag over the intake. If we’d just turned it off and on again, without taking it apart, it would have worked!
We mainly just stayed one night at strategic marinas as we made our way along the coast, staying when the weather was unfavourable. We left Ametlla de Mar after one night, only to find the wind coming down the Ebro valley was untenable. About Force 6 gusting up to 7. It all went horrible and we decided to go back into port, the UV strip ripped off the genoa and flapped like a wild thing. The next day we discovered we’d lost a boathook. We had to wait until mid-afternoon the next day for the wind to drop enough for us to get the sail off and sew it up. Not entertaining. It took hours of backbreaking stitching spread out in the car-park, but it’s still holding up now.
Barcelona was too big and busy for me. We did art and culture. What is it with the Spanish thing of people dressing up and pretending to be statues for money? Does it happen elsewhere? I’ve seen it all over Spain, but nowhere else. La Rambla was full of them. Andy still doesn’t get Picasso, despite spending hours in the Museo. Gaudi buildings look much better in the photos than in the flesh. They are amazing and different. La Familia Sagrada is just astonishing. But is it nice? I don’t think so. Had an expensive but good veggie meal, spoilt by the fact they served it all at once, soup, main, etc, and in disposable paper and plastic plates and cups.
We have sailed past some lovely coastline. It isn’t all high-rise development. There are some lovely cliffs and caves and a lot of hills, mainly limestone, but the Pyrenees took the biscuit for scenic attractiveness.
Had a day in shock after going into Palamos and being charged a stonking 44.40€ for one night in the winter season in a pretty small boat!! Most places we’ve paid between 10€ and 20€ a night at this time of year.
The Golfe du Lion, though, has the most horrendous wind I’ve ever encountered. We’d heard about it. We’d read about it. It’s all true. In the first part of the Med we had the terrible Levanter and the Poniente to deal with. Winds from the East or the West which blow strong enough to make the hardiest sailor quail. We experienced the way the wind can change direction and speed at a moment’s notice. We were nervous about coming here because of the famous Tramontane which blows from the north down between the Pyrenees and the Massif Central. It comes out of nowhere, with a blue sky, and blows for days at a time. We’ve had it gusting up to Force 9 and 10, but luckily, we research all the weather forecasts we can, and if in doubt, don’t go out. The other one is the Marin, which blows from the south and is just as bad.
Our approach to St Cyprien is something I’ll never forget. We set off from Roses in Spain prepared to stop at any of 3 or 4 ports straddling the border at the Pyrenees, depending on the wind and wave conditions and what speed we could make. We had a lovely day’s sailing in the sunshine and were doing so well, we kept going on until we rounded Cap Béar heading for St Cyprien. Then an onshore wind got up, out of nowhere. It’s a shallow sandy coast away from the mountains with marinas built out with walls. We had to get into a really narrow gap between big concrete walls, made narrower by silting in the entrance. As we approached I could see the waves crashing into the harbour wall and spray blowing over the top. We were chucked around all over the place as we got our scrap of sail down and motored in. It got down to about 0.5 m under the keel, with wind, spray and waves breaking round us. We spent two days pinned by the wind to the fuel quay, as it was too windy to move to a proper mooring.
Back in France and I’m getting my languages well mixed up. The food is much better but more expensive than Spain.
We had a day in Agde, where we went by train, to collect our International Certificates of Competence which we had updated by the RYA to include the Inland Waterways. We had them sent to Colin’s sailing friend, John, who lives there. It took a lot of organisation to arrange to get to where we could collect them. Unfortunately, we never did get to meet John and Theo before they went off on their skiing hol. We missed the train because no-one told us that the clocks changed on Sunday! Theo left them with her friend in Agde. So it was from a friend of a friend of a friend. We also bought our Vignette (licence) from the VNF to allow us to travel on the canals for the month of April. We did have some entertainment watching two French guys manoeuvring a 42’ yacht through the famous round lock in Agde. It took them about 25 goes, going backwards and forwards, they bent the pulpit and may have damaged the mast and furler, which sticks out in front when laid along the length of the boat, you see. The crewman very very nearly fell in, but managed to climb back up the side of the boat where he was hanging on the rail. We eventually pulled them through with a rope from the bank. So that’s the sort of thing we’re going to have to do. It has to be better than the Tramontane.
We decided to go and sound the depth of the start of the canal as the websites and hearsay are telling us it’s only 1.2 or 1.3m, where it’s supposed to be 1.5m The homme in the VNF office tells us it’s 1.4m. The femme in the boatyard with crane tells us it’s 1.35 – 1.4m. Our draught is, we think, 1.37m. We can’t go and try in Sally without first taking down the mast, as the canal starts the other side of a bridge. Yesterday Andy blew up the dinghy, but it got too windy to go and test it with our homemade depth stick. When Andy deflated the dinghy again to save it from blowing away, one of the valves fell in and disappeared! We now have no dinghy to use. We may not be able to get ashore in some parts of the canals. He’s not in my good books.
At the moment it’s too windy for us to get the sails off and prepare the boat for de-masting. Andy has purchased a different size valve for another dinghy and is trying to adapt it. I’m going off to buy something nice for lunch, before I take everything out of all the lockers and try to re-arrange it so we’ll have somewhere to put the sails while we’re on the canals, if we ever get on them.
Ah, the good life! I remember it, when it was simple, and all I had to do was get up and go to work.
It's been a busy few weeks. I’ll try and summarise.
Valencia is a lovely city and good to get around on bikes - except for the slippery bits of paving! The main river through the city has been diverted and the old river bed is now a long narrow park with grass and trees, footpaths, cycle tracks and lovely old bridges with many access points to the city. There are beautiful old buildings as well as state of the art modern stuff, particularly the City of Arts and Science.
After I fell off my bike I went into shock and had to lie on a park bench, trying not be sick and looking like a wino. Next day, Andy was allowed out shopping on his own, as I was resting up my bruised knees and elbows. He left my bike locked to the pontoon and forgot to take the other lock. He’d bought some jubilee clips at the “ferreteria” (iron-mongers, not ferrets) so jubileed his bike to the fence outside of the supermarket. When he saw his bike being lifted he made a heroic leap out of the check-out queue and managed to wrest it from the thieving senora. He has no idea what the stream of Spanish assaulting his ears meant, but it probably wasn’t, “Okay, it’s a fair cop, gov.” When he turned round he was being watched by three of the supermarket staff who thought he was running off with goods unpaid for!
We also had a very very good and cheap vegetarian Menu del Día at a Naturista restaurant we found. Everyone kept their clothes on.
We left the huge America’s Cup marina, only to find our engine cooling intake had stopped working about a mile or so out. We carried on under sail while Andy took stuff to bits. He put it back together and it still didn’t work so we SAILED back into the marina! It was our finest hour, short-tacking past the Oficina del Puerto and back into the mooring we’d just left. Luckily there weren’t many other boats coming out at that time of year. Anyway, Andy realised he’d put it back wrong, and when he put it back right, it worked. I think we’d just picked up a plastic bag over the intake. If we’d just turned it off and on again, without taking it apart, it would have worked!
We mainly just stayed one night at strategic marinas as we made our way along the coast, staying when the weather was unfavourable. We left Ametlla de Mar after one night, only to find the wind coming down the Ebro valley was untenable. About Force 6 gusting up to 7. It all went horrible and we decided to go back into port, the UV strip ripped off the genoa and flapped like a wild thing. The next day we discovered we’d lost a boathook. We had to wait until mid-afternoon the next day for the wind to drop enough for us to get the sail off and sew it up. Not entertaining. It took hours of backbreaking stitching spread out in the car-park, but it’s still holding up now.
Barcelona was too big and busy for me. We did art and culture. What is it with the Spanish thing of people dressing up and pretending to be statues for money? Does it happen elsewhere? I’ve seen it all over Spain, but nowhere else. La Rambla was full of them. Andy still doesn’t get Picasso, despite spending hours in the Museo. Gaudi buildings look much better in the photos than in the flesh. They are amazing and different. La Familia Sagrada is just astonishing. But is it nice? I don’t think so. Had an expensive but good veggie meal, spoilt by the fact they served it all at once, soup, main, etc, and in disposable paper and plastic plates and cups.
We have sailed past some lovely coastline. It isn’t all high-rise development. There are some lovely cliffs and caves and a lot of hills, mainly limestone, but the Pyrenees took the biscuit for scenic attractiveness.
Had a day in shock after going into Palamos and being charged a stonking 44.40€ for one night in the winter season in a pretty small boat!! Most places we’ve paid between 10€ and 20€ a night at this time of year.
The Golfe du Lion, though, has the most horrendous wind I’ve ever encountered. We’d heard about it. We’d read about it. It’s all true. In the first part of the Med we had the terrible Levanter and the Poniente to deal with. Winds from the East or the West which blow strong enough to make the hardiest sailor quail. We experienced the way the wind can change direction and speed at a moment’s notice. We were nervous about coming here because of the famous Tramontane which blows from the north down between the Pyrenees and the Massif Central. It comes out of nowhere, with a blue sky, and blows for days at a time. We’ve had it gusting up to Force 9 and 10, but luckily, we research all the weather forecasts we can, and if in doubt, don’t go out. The other one is the Marin, which blows from the south and is just as bad.
Our approach to St Cyprien is something I’ll never forget. We set off from Roses in Spain prepared to stop at any of 3 or 4 ports straddling the border at the Pyrenees, depending on the wind and wave conditions and what speed we could make. We had a lovely day’s sailing in the sunshine and were doing so well, we kept going on until we rounded Cap Béar heading for St Cyprien. Then an onshore wind got up, out of nowhere. It’s a shallow sandy coast away from the mountains with marinas built out with walls. We had to get into a really narrow gap between big concrete walls, made narrower by silting in the entrance. As we approached I could see the waves crashing into the harbour wall and spray blowing over the top. We were chucked around all over the place as we got our scrap of sail down and motored in. It got down to about 0.5 m under the keel, with wind, spray and waves breaking round us. We spent two days pinned by the wind to the fuel quay, as it was too windy to move to a proper mooring.
Back in France and I’m getting my languages well mixed up. The food is much better but more expensive than Spain.
We had a day in Agde, where we went by train, to collect our International Certificates of Competence which we had updated by the RYA to include the Inland Waterways. We had them sent to Colin’s sailing friend, John, who lives there. It took a lot of organisation to arrange to get to where we could collect them. Unfortunately, we never did get to meet John and Theo before they went off on their skiing hol. We missed the train because no-one told us that the clocks changed on Sunday! Theo left them with her friend in Agde. So it was from a friend of a friend of a friend. We also bought our Vignette (licence) from the VNF to allow us to travel on the canals for the month of April. We did have some entertainment watching two French guys manoeuvring a 42’ yacht through the famous round lock in Agde. It took them about 25 goes, going backwards and forwards, they bent the pulpit and may have damaged the mast and furler, which sticks out in front when laid along the length of the boat, you see. The crewman very very nearly fell in, but managed to climb back up the side of the boat where he was hanging on the rail. We eventually pulled them through with a rope from the bank. So that’s the sort of thing we’re going to have to do. It has to be better than the Tramontane.
We decided to go and sound the depth of the start of the canal as the websites and hearsay are telling us it’s only 1.2 or 1.3m, where it’s supposed to be 1.5m The homme in the VNF office tells us it’s 1.4m. The femme in the boatyard with crane tells us it’s 1.35 – 1.4m. Our draught is, we think, 1.37m. We can’t go and try in Sally without first taking down the mast, as the canal starts the other side of a bridge. Yesterday Andy blew up the dinghy, but it got too windy to go and test it with our homemade depth stick. When Andy deflated the dinghy again to save it from blowing away, one of the valves fell in and disappeared! We now have no dinghy to use. We may not be able to get ashore in some parts of the canals. He’s not in my good books.
At the moment it’s too windy for us to get the sails off and prepare the boat for de-masting. Andy has purchased a different size valve for another dinghy and is trying to adapt it. I’m going off to buy something nice for lunch, before I take everything out of all the lockers and try to re-arrange it so we’ll have somewhere to put the sails while we’re on the canals, if we ever get on them.
Ah, the good life! I remember it, when it was simple, and all I had to do was get up and go to work.
Tuesday, 2 March 2010
Some statistics from Dénia, near Valencia.
We’ve done 2,302 nautical miles in Sally since leaving Poole on 16th June 2008.
In 20 months I’ve slept in 72 different places, which breaks down to 62 different ports and anchorages (some of them we went back to 2 or 3 times) 3 places in Grenada (winter 08/09) and 7 in the UK on various visits.
Since January 16th 2010 we’ve done nearly 700 nautical miles and are now close to Valencia. The Spanish language is different here from Andalucia and Murcia. They spell the words funny! Platja for beach, instead of playa, for instance. I expected it in Galicia, but it came as a surprise to me here.
We have about 350 miles to go until we reach the entrance to the Canal du Midi at Port-la-Nouvelle in the Golfe du Lion. Then it’s about 370 miles of Inland Waterway to Royanne and back on the Biscay coast.
We don’t think we can get up the Rhône against the current in spring as there’s no help from any tide coming from the Med. That would have brought us out near Le Havre.
Target is to get to the canals by the end of March. Out the other end before the end of April, then hope for some decent weather in Biscay for sailing back up the French coast round Brittany and back across the Channel in time to go to Charlotte’s wedding in Manchester in May. If not, I have to be back to fly to NZ for the arrival of my first grandchild.
Since Christmas I have knitted: 3 cardis, 2 hats, 2 pairs of sox and 1 and a half pairs of leggings for my soon-to-be grandson. There’s more in my knitting bag......
In 20 months I’ve slept in 72 different places, which breaks down to 62 different ports and anchorages (some of them we went back to 2 or 3 times) 3 places in Grenada (winter 08/09) and 7 in the UK on various visits.
Since January 16th 2010 we’ve done nearly 700 nautical miles and are now close to Valencia. The Spanish language is different here from Andalucia and Murcia. They spell the words funny! Platja for beach, instead of playa, for instance. I expected it in Galicia, but it came as a surprise to me here.
We have about 350 miles to go until we reach the entrance to the Canal du Midi at Port-la-Nouvelle in the Golfe du Lion. Then it’s about 370 miles of Inland Waterway to Royanne and back on the Biscay coast.
We don’t think we can get up the Rhône against the current in spring as there’s no help from any tide coming from the Med. That would have brought us out near Le Havre.
Target is to get to the canals by the end of March. Out the other end before the end of April, then hope for some decent weather in Biscay for sailing back up the French coast round Brittany and back across the Channel in time to go to Charlotte’s wedding in Manchester in May. If not, I have to be back to fly to NZ for the arrival of my first grandchild.
Since Christmas I have knitted: 3 cardis, 2 hats, 2 pairs of sox and 1 and a half pairs of leggings for my soon-to-be grandson. There’s more in my knitting bag......
Monday, 8 February 2010
Message from Fuengirola
The next time you hear anyone in Britain moaning about the immigrant population taking over: the Poles, blacks, Asians, whatever, tell them to take a trip to the Costa del Concrete on the Spanish Mediterranean coast. There are more Brits, Germans and Scandinavians here than you can shake a Full English Breakfast at. Everywhere you go it's English Pub this, English Tea-rooms that, Sunday roast, Sausage and mash. Gibraltar was more Spanish than this. Everything's written in English. It's horrifying – like being in a Saga holiday timewarp. I'm beginning to appreciate the other bits of Spain we saw before we got past Gibaltar.
We're just heading eastwards as and when the wind and weather permit towards the south of France. Only another 700 miles to go, then about 850 miles of canals through France, providing we can get the paperwork we need, which involves somehow doing a test to prove we understand all the rules and regs on the Inland Waterways, which we should have done in England. Apart from that, will our engine be able to cope with the constant current coming out of the Rhone, with no tide from the Med to help us up it, against the flow?
We've now come over 2,000 miles from Poole. It's a long way home again.
We're just heading eastwards as and when the wind and weather permit towards the south of France. Only another 700 miles to go, then about 850 miles of canals through France, providing we can get the paperwork we need, which involves somehow doing a test to prove we understand all the rules and regs on the Inland Waterways, which we should have done in England. Apart from that, will our engine be able to cope with the constant current coming out of the Rhone, with no tide from the Med to help us up it, against the flow?
We've now come over 2,000 miles from Poole. It's a long way home again.
Monday, 1 February 2010
On D Move
Friday 29th January
On D Move
That's the name on one of the buses that runs on Carriacou. Aah, I remember last winter, it was sun, sun and more sun.
Still, I can see Africa from here! I'm on the boat and we're sailing from Barbate to Gibraltar. The nice NW wind we were promised hasn't really materialised, but they're still forecasting Force 4 – 5 off Tarifa. I'll believe it when I feel it.
The wind can be fierce in the Straits and it's notorious for the Levanter from the East, blowing opposite to the current which is constant into the Med from the West (due to the evaporation) and can cause horrendous seas. Not today, we hope. Our chart marks about 30 or 40 wrecks along the coast around Gib. I don't want to join them.
It's going to be weird being in a bit of England. We have great hopes for finding Marmite, tomato purée and other delights from home.
We left Ayamonte on 15th January. We managed to break free from the Rio Guadiana, where we'd been since September. It was lumpy as hell getting out of the mouth of the river, but we felt liberated once we'd made it. Two nights in Mazagon, one in Chipiona, then we spent a few days in Rota, which was lovely. A really unspoilt old town with strong Arabic influence, right next to the marina. We took a bus to Jerez and made a visit to the Royal Andalucian School of Equestrian Art to watch the beautiful Spanish horses “dance”. I loved it, although it was a little bit naff. Andy looked a bit bored, even though I kept up a running commentary of the names of the movements they were executing, and my opinion on how well they were doing them! If you've seen what the Lippizaners of the Spanish Riding School of Vienna do, it's much the same. Traditional stuff. All laid on for tourists. Beautiful buildings though.
Apart from the riding school and the many sherry bodegas, most of Jerez is really run down. The bodegas are huge grand estates in the centre of the city where sherry is still made in the traditional way and tourists can do tours and tasting, except if you go in January, when most of them are shut! Sandeman and Tio Pepe were still open, but we didn't have time after the stables as we had to get the bus back to Rota. The bus ride took us through hectares and hectares of vines. Well they have to make the sherry out of something. We looked through the gates of the Domecq bodega and could see hundreds of barrels stacked up and smelling strongly of raisin. I don't like sherry anyway, but I would have liked a tour and a taste.
Since Rota, we anchored overnight in Sancti Petri, then had a cracking sail, bit lumpy for my liking, round Cabo Trafalgar made famous by Lord Nelson. The Spanish navy is still called the Armada. We emailed them to find out if we could sail out of Rota as they keep doing live ammo manoeuvres off Cadiz. There's a huge US Navy base in Rota, too. It was funny waiting for an email from the Spanish Armada!
We managed to get out of there without them getting their revenge for Trafalgar on us, but we kept hearing heavy artillery explosions in the distance.
On D Move
That's the name on one of the buses that runs on Carriacou. Aah, I remember last winter, it was sun, sun and more sun.
Still, I can see Africa from here! I'm on the boat and we're sailing from Barbate to Gibraltar. The nice NW wind we were promised hasn't really materialised, but they're still forecasting Force 4 – 5 off Tarifa. I'll believe it when I feel it.
The wind can be fierce in the Straits and it's notorious for the Levanter from the East, blowing opposite to the current which is constant into the Med from the West (due to the evaporation) and can cause horrendous seas. Not today, we hope. Our chart marks about 30 or 40 wrecks along the coast around Gib. I don't want to join them.
It's going to be weird being in a bit of England. We have great hopes for finding Marmite, tomato purée and other delights from home.
We left Ayamonte on 15th January. We managed to break free from the Rio Guadiana, where we'd been since September. It was lumpy as hell getting out of the mouth of the river, but we felt liberated once we'd made it. Two nights in Mazagon, one in Chipiona, then we spent a few days in Rota, which was lovely. A really unspoilt old town with strong Arabic influence, right next to the marina. We took a bus to Jerez and made a visit to the Royal Andalucian School of Equestrian Art to watch the beautiful Spanish horses “dance”. I loved it, although it was a little bit naff. Andy looked a bit bored, even though I kept up a running commentary of the names of the movements they were executing, and my opinion on how well they were doing them! If you've seen what the Lippizaners of the Spanish Riding School of Vienna do, it's much the same. Traditional stuff. All laid on for tourists. Beautiful buildings though.
Apart from the riding school and the many sherry bodegas, most of Jerez is really run down. The bodegas are huge grand estates in the centre of the city where sherry is still made in the traditional way and tourists can do tours and tasting, except if you go in January, when most of them are shut! Sandeman and Tio Pepe were still open, but we didn't have time after the stables as we had to get the bus back to Rota. The bus ride took us through hectares and hectares of vines. Well they have to make the sherry out of something. We looked through the gates of the Domecq bodega and could see hundreds of barrels stacked up and smelling strongly of raisin. I don't like sherry anyway, but I would have liked a tour and a taste.
Since Rota, we anchored overnight in Sancti Petri, then had a cracking sail, bit lumpy for my liking, round Cabo Trafalgar made famous by Lord Nelson. The Spanish navy is still called the Armada. We emailed them to find out if we could sail out of Rota as they keep doing live ammo manoeuvres off Cadiz. There's a huge US Navy base in Rota, too. It was funny waiting for an email from the Spanish Armada!
We managed to get out of there without them getting their revenge for Trafalgar on us, but we kept hearing heavy artillery explosions in the distance.
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