Yacht surveyor and designer Andrew Simpson cruises with his wife Chele in his
own-design 11.9m (39ft) yacht Shindig. Read his blog at http://www.offshore-sailor.com
Andrew Simpson
Monthly musings
A
wise old bird,
long departed
to that celestial
anchorage in the
sky, once told
me: ‘Cruising
under sail isn’t just about
sailing. Travelling, certainly,
but sailing no’. Naturally I
didn’t really believe him. In my
late teens I believed it was an
inviolable truth that sailing
was the ultimate thrill, and
those days spent lying inertly
to anchor, tethered to a
mooring or rafted with other
boats to a harbour wall, were
essentially wasteful interludes.
Not anymore. I’m completely
sold on the notion that a
cruising sailboat should, at
heart, be a vehicle whose
primary purpose is to carry its
crew from one agreeable place
to another.
With Shindig now ashore in
the Caribbean and a launch
date planned for about the
time this issue reaches the
newsstands, I was refl ecting on
the principal advantages offered
by journeying under sail and
came to the conclusion that it
can take you to places
inaccessible to more
conventional forms of travel.
Granted, the Himalayas would
be impracticable for a yacht,
ditto the wastelands of the Gobi
Desert. Even the Colorado River
and the Grand Canyon would
require some other form of
craft, but such limitations are
more than offset by the other
places you can visit. Anyway,
for those like me who suffer
dizzy spells
when distanced
too far from the
sea, there are
always buses, hire cars and the
like for minor treks inshore.
For example: Back in 2011,
with Shindig then in the Ionian,
I wrote of Oiniades – a stately
and now landlocked Grecian
boatyard which was active about
2,500 years ago. That’s four
centuries before the Romans
took a wrong turn and found
themselves in Britain! At that
time, the Greeks were building
triremes – unquestionably the
most effective warships of their
era, sort of waterborne guided
missiles. Each was about 120ft
long and manned by up to 170
oarsmen; all freemen who saw
it as their democratic duty to
defend their country. Although
fi tted with downwind sails,
their preferred mode of
attack was under oars when
they would ram their prey,
achieving astonishing
speeds – at least 10 knots to
ensure success; some say 15.
At that time, Shindig was
berthed in Messolonghi, a
small but attractive university
town on the northern shore of
the Gulf of Patras. From there
we drove the dozen miles or
so to Oiniades, site of the
now abandoned boatyard
and a nearby amphitheatre
dating from the same period.
What once must have been
a thriving community had
long since decamped.
It’s hardly surprising that
countries with coastlines go
to great lengths to defend
them. Of the 100 or so castles
in England, about 30 are in
the south-east alone. That’s
because this is where the
English Channel is at its
narrowest and therefore
the most vulnerable to
attack. Dover Castle, which
stands sentinel over the
Strait, has seen service
spanning nine centuries.
Of course, what’s true of
the UK holds for many other
countries. Cherbourg had
a castle in the 5th century,
and the walled city of St Malo
is also well protected. La
Rochelle’s harbour has
twin towers that guard the
approaches. Today they might
be just photogenic tourist
attractions, but their original
purpose was deadly serious.
For cruising sailors who arrive
by sea, it’s unsurprising that
any sortie ashore
might bring them
face to face with
the relics of
previous confl icts. This is
particularly true of the eastern
Caribbean, the islands of
which – with the exception
of Barbados – have been
squabbled over by France,
Spain and Britain (and I
daresay others) since their
presence became known in
the 15th century.
The relics of previous wars
abound, and not all date from
olden times. I photographed
the airliner pictured here last
July. Made in Russia, it hails
from Cuba and was used to
ferry troops into Grenada –
later to be destroyed on the
ground when, to widespread
international protests, US
forces invaded the island in
- The object of what was
known as Operation Urgent
Fury was to take down the
Marxist government of Maurice
Bishop, thereby weakening
Grenada’s strengthening links
both with Castro and the
Soviet Union.
So, for better or worse, history
rolls on. Chele and I spent
nearly a year in the Lesser
Antilles back in the late ’70s,
but got no further south than
Antigua. In 2016 we plan to
cruise north, fi rst through the
Windward Islands and later
through the Leeward Islands.
Hopefully, you’ll join us.
They might be just tourist attractions, but
their original purpose was deadly serious
This airliner was destroyed on the ground when US forces
invaded Grenada during Operation Urgent Fury in 1983
Sailing into history
Finding relics of past confl icts: ‘It’s hardly surprising that
countries with coastlines go to great lengths to defend them’