Reflections on 2009
Sitting here on the side of the boat with the laptop perched precariously on my knee, the power cable linked to an extension cable plugged into a socket powered by the generator, I realise just how much I’ve come to accept how even simple tasks are never straight forward on a boat.
Mooring Moments
It’s hard to remember just how green we were in Dover when we first got on Zenna. Mark keeps telling the story of our second day when he was asked by the Dover Marina staff to move the boat to a new berth. He wasn’t even sure how to start the engine, let along get such a big boat away from the dock and moored alongside another much smaller pontoon. Somehow we managed. There have been some pretty interesting mooring experiences since.
We were in Gosport getting the rigging renewed. The boat had no mast as it was off whilst the steel stays were being replaced. It had been a particularly busy day and we had arranged for a diver to come to the boat to check the engine water inlet which seemed to be blocked. We were late and the boat was not where we told the diver it would be. We raced onto the boat, noticing an unusual ripple on the water around the pontoon. I grabbed the mooring lines whilst Mark started the engine. As we pulled away I thought how slick we were getting… As I coiled the lines, Mark noticed a snaking black cable tighten on the yacht’s bow. We had forgotten to disconnect the shore power. I jumped off and grabbed the cable. Pulling it out of the water I realized it had snapped and I was standing on the dock with a live power cable dripping with water in my hand. Fortunately the power socket had tripped and I gingerly retrieved what I could of the cable and climbed back on board. However by this point, the swirling water had pushed us hard against the opposite pontoon and we were pinned by the current as the fierce Gosport tide started to flow out of the marina. The whole situation was not helped as we had only 2 fenders out on the side pinned to the dock, neither in a position to stop us grating against the pontoon. I stood there trying to hold off an 18 tonne boat with little effect except sore shoulders the following day. Poor Zenna still bears the scars today on her port side.
It was the day we started our Lessons Learnt and what would we do differently next time sessions.
Paths Crossing
Cruising around you find yourself running into some people time and again and others not at all. In the boatyard in Lisbon, we got to know Hieko on board Pinta. His crew didn’t drink and you would find him walking the boatyard with a couple of beers in hand looking for company – although his preferred drink was gin and tonic. Whilst we were there, he left the boatyard after 2 years of being on the hard to a great fanfare following a BBQ put on by the boatyard the night before.See pictures. A couple of months later, we were out on a day sail with my brother, Kirsty and her sister Mhairi (Varrie in case you are wondering) who were visiting us in Gibraltar when Pinta came towards us going in the opposite direction towards the North African coast. We had a brief radio chat only to establish they were leaving and heading off down the coast of Africa. However, a few days later we ran into them again outside the chandlery, back in Gib to refuel as the tax free fuel was such a bargain. We ended up with them in a bar run by some Turks who previously lived in Germany and were now living in Spain.
However, the weirdest path crossing came from the couple we got to know best in the boatyard. Sabine and Addie who were getting work done on their sleek US built yacht Annie. When we arrived in the boat yard I was worried about how long we would be there. It was pretty desolate, dusty, hot, patrolled by howling dogs at night and filled with the dirt and noise of the workers during the day. Sergio had assured us our work could be done in 2 weeks which only meant one weekend on the hard. So as we sat in the slings being hauled out of the water and Sabine said hello and welcomed us to the yard, I was horrified when she told me they had been there for 11 months…
If the fanfare for Pinta leaving the boatyard was loud the one for Annie was raucous with all the workers standing on top of the boats they were working on bowing ‘we’re not worthy’ as Addie gingerly started their engine and left the shallow estuary heading for the main Lisbon channel. We had exchanged email addresses and promised to keep in touch and knew we were both heading towards the Canary Islands. 6 weeks later we had picked up our crew in Gib and were heading off on the start of our transatlantic crossing. About 4 days into the passage we spotted a boat off our stern. The first we had seen since we left Gib. Mark got the binoculars out and somehow made out it was Annie. The chance of seeing any boat at sea is remote, let alone someone you know. We managed to make radio contact and both headed for Isla Graciosa on the north east of the Canaries for some serious catching up. As we pulled into the little marina who should be sitting on the opposite hammerhead but Pinta.
Sitting here on the side of the boat with the laptop perched precariously on my knee, the power cable linked to an extension cable plugged into a socket powered by the generator, I realise just how much I’ve come to accept how even simple tasks are never straight forward on a boat.
Mooring Moments
It’s hard to remember just how green we were in Dover when we first got on Zenna. Mark keeps telling the story of our second day when he was asked by the Dover Marina staff to move the boat to a new berth. He wasn’t even sure how to start the engine, let along get such a big boat away from the dock and moored alongside another much smaller pontoon. Somehow we managed. There have been some pretty interesting mooring experiences since.
We were in Gosport getting the rigging renewed. The boat had no mast as it was off whilst the steel stays were being replaced. It had been a particularly busy day and we had arranged for a diver to come to the boat to check the engine water inlet which seemed to be blocked. We were late and the boat was not where we told the diver it would be. We raced onto the boat, noticing an unusual ripple on the water around the pontoon. I grabbed the mooring lines whilst Mark started the engine. As we pulled away I thought how slick we were getting… As I coiled the lines, Mark noticed a snaking black cable tighten on the yacht’s bow. We had forgotten to disconnect the shore power. I jumped off and grabbed the cable. Pulling it out of the water I realized it had snapped and I was standing on the dock with a live power cable dripping with water in my hand. Fortunately the power socket had tripped and I gingerly retrieved what I could of the cable and climbed back on board. However by this point, the swirling water had pushed us hard against the opposite pontoon and we were pinned by the current as the fierce Gosport tide started to flow out of the marina. The whole situation was not helped as we had only 2 fenders out on the side pinned to the dock, neither in a position to stop us grating against the pontoon. I stood there trying to hold off an 18 tonne boat with little effect except sore shoulders the following day. Poor Zenna still bears the scars today on her port side.
It was the day we started our Lessons Learnt and what would we do differently next time sessions.
Paths Crossing
Cruising around you find yourself running into some people time and again and others not at all. In the boatyard in Lisbon, we got to know Hieko on board Pinta. His crew didn’t drink and you would find him walking the boatyard with a couple of beers in hand looking for company – although his preferred drink was gin and tonic. Whilst we were there, he left the boatyard after 2 years of being on the hard to a great fanfare following a BBQ put on by the boatyard the night before.See pictures. A couple of months later, we were out on a day sail with my brother, Kirsty and her sister Mhairi (Varrie in case you are wondering) who were visiting us in Gibraltar when Pinta came towards us going in the opposite direction towards the North African coast. We had a brief radio chat only to establish they were leaving and heading off down the coast of Africa. However, a few days later we ran into them again outside the chandlery, back in Gib to refuel as the tax free fuel was such a bargain. We ended up with them in a bar run by some Turks who previously lived in Germany and were now living in Spain.
However, the weirdest path crossing came from the couple we got to know best in the boatyard. Sabine and Addie who were getting work done on their sleek US built yacht Annie. When we arrived in the boat yard I was worried about how long we would be there. It was pretty desolate, dusty, hot, patrolled by howling dogs at night and filled with the dirt and noise of the workers during the day. Sergio had assured us our work could be done in 2 weeks which only meant one weekend on the hard. So as we sat in the slings being hauled out of the water and Sabine said hello and welcomed us to the yard, I was horrified when she told me they had been there for 11 months…
If the fanfare for Pinta leaving the boatyard was loud the one for Annie was raucous with all the workers standing on top of the boats they were working on bowing ‘we’re not worthy’ as Addie gingerly started their engine and left the shallow estuary heading for the main Lisbon channel. We had exchanged email addresses and promised to keep in touch and knew we were both heading towards the Canary Islands. 6 weeks later we had picked up our crew in Gib and were heading off on the start of our transatlantic crossing. About 4 days into the passage we spotted a boat off our stern. The first we had seen since we left Gib. Mark got the binoculars out and somehow made out it was Annie. The chance of seeing any boat at sea is remote, let alone someone you know. We managed to make radio contact and both headed for Isla Graciosa on the north east of the Canaries for some serious catching up. As we pulled into the little marina who should be sitting on the opposite hammerhead but Pinta.
Small world, even smaller oceans...
