Another filthy night!

We had a great sail heading due south with a north westerly breeze the first afternoon out of San Francisco. This continued until the small hours when the wind started to drop off leaving us totally becalmed by dawn. A good size swell was still running, so the sails slatted, the blocks creaked and the whole boat rolled as we struggled to keep steerage way. One of my, and most sailors least favourite things is to be becalmed with a swell running. It’s particularly hard on a traditional boat with the miles of rope up the mast, each line struggling for space in finding a fair lead back down to the deck. I swear more damage is done to a boats rig in calm over heavy weather. This calm only lasted a few hours, and by 1400 we were making way again. We busied ourselves doing lots of little jobs on board, sorting out reefing lines, Oz cleaned the carburettor of the generator and got that running again, I was lying on the aft deck tightening the strop around the counter which held the mizzen stays when I was surprised by a dorsal fin scything through the water in our wake. I stood up rather abruptly, and watched as the small shark which was following us caught sight of me and turned away, flicking his tail. It was only a couple of hours beforehand I was seriously considering jumping in for a swim…!

The wind built to a force 3, and we were enjoying more pleasant sailing into the evening, when a front passed over us at around 0330 with the wind shifting into the North west and increasing a lot. Anne Marie charged off like a scalded cat. I was once more grateful for our easily handleable jib headed topsail, as it came down a piece of cake. This eased us a lot, but the wind was still strong enough to make it seem prudent to heave to and let the front pass completely. When we set off again we were on port gybe, still pretty broad, and making good way towards Mexico. Force 6 and Anne Marie was flying. We pulled the second reef down at midday, and dropped the jib also. By dusk it was clear that we had a problem. I came on watch to find that we had been steering considerably further inshore than was safe, and if we were to continue on course were going to plant ourselves smack in the middle of San Miguel island. We were still 10 miles or so away, but even when squared right away downwind, we were not going to be able to leave the island a safe offing. It was tough sailing downwind, as the sea was becoming very unpleasant as we approached the island, so there was not much option but to gybe. The gybe went as well as could be expected….the mainsheet block which had only kept working for the last week or so by some strange supernatural force of habit, broke a bit more, allowing the mainsheet to jump the sheave and lock itself firmly down the side. Luckily, I had called the gybe pretty early, as I didn’t trust much on the boat to work properly, and this gave us the searoom we needed to heave to and sort the mess out. We struggled for ages over the back of the boom trying to free the sheet (thanks Eric, nice repair!) in the windy black night, hanging on to each other whilst a different idea, then a different idea was tried. Glad we couldn’t see the bend in the boom which we had sheeted in far too tight, just so we could work on the thing(Oz told me later he was amazed it hadn’t broken….Eric had scarped a new bit on the end where there had been some rot…it was well tested that night!) I eventually got a couple of the guys to seize the parts of the tackle up by gripping them together, then proceeded to remove the parts from the blocks until only two remained, and re rove the block not using the middle (faulty)sheave. On the minus side this gave us less purchase on the main. On the plus side the mainsheet was now long enough for us to square away properly! The Lord Giveth and The Lord Taketh away….!

I believe we sailed something like 4 hours on that gybe, and it was truly a dirty sea. I was sat on the steering box, and on two occasions was up to my waist in water. Man I was pissed off, as for the first time in ages I had not got my full wet weather gear on, California dreaming, and was soaked to the skin. I hung on long enough so when we gybed back there would be plenty of searoom, and as soon as that time came, I called all hands and we did it. Bit of a quicker gybe this one, in more ways than one! I believe a hat was lost and some palms were burnt, but all in all it was fine. The boat was now at a much better angle to the seas, and stopped taking them green over the stern, but it was still hard going on the helm. We were really shifting along with a bright moon illuminating the silver wavecrests all around, when for the first time in a good while the propshaft lock gave up again with a report like gunfire! One of the spectra lashings had chafed through under the enormous load it had been under, and the shaft was turning once again. This did seem rather immaterial, as the gearbox( which the shaft lock protected) was not much use anyway, connected as it was to a prospective mooring block, but James duly fed the spinning shaft a bight of rope, which it gladly accepted and wrapped itself up into silence.

I happily gave up the wheel to Oz in the hours before dawn, and fell into my bunk shattered, although my sleep was not coming in lengths of more than half an hour or so. Even as I felt the sea easing and as the sunlight began to enter the skylight, I struggled to get some shuteye. By 0800 the wind had really dropped, so we shook the reefs out, hoisted the topsail and jib, and set off again. Before long it was apparent that the spinnaker was needed, so we spent a while rigging the pole, and then set the huge kite up on port. It set pretty well considering it was not a sail made for the boat, too long in the luff by 6 ft or so, it dragged in the water when the wind really dropped. It certainly made us a few miles that day though, and we sailed well all day. Just as the sun was going down, the wind started to build, and we decided to drop the sail in favour of some sleep! It did not take too much wind before the strain on the topmast and runner would become very worrying, especially with a boat we were trying to nurse along!

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