CRUISING
that it was always the gearbox that failed,
not the motor.
The ARC+ was due to set sail the next
day but we felt we needed a few days to
rest so advised rally control we’d delay our
start by two days. This took the pressure
off, giving us time to relax and plan the
next passage, crossing the Atlantic Ocean.
For a voyage across open ocean in
virtually a straight line there’s actually very
little to plan. Once the rigging was
checked, electrical equipment tested, and
waypoints and a half way marker entered,
it was soon done.
With over 2,000 miles to cover and no
way to predict the weather beyond three
or four days, our course would be set as
we received weather reports. We checked
out with Customs and filled our fuel tank
to the brim, plus 73 litres in fuel cans. We
calculated we could motorsail for four
days in a south-westerly direction to pick
up the Tradewinds but would conserve
fuel from then.
We raised our sails and set out for the
Atlantic Ocean. Another ARC boat,
Gudgeon, followed under Parasail and
eventually passed us heading due south.
With no autopilot we couldn’t fly our
spinnaker on the trip to Mindelo. Jan wasn’t
keen – she was afraid of its power – so we’d
only used it twice in France, once managing
to push the pole through the delicate fabric.
On both occasions it was hard to drop,
mainly due to our inexperience. However,
on this trip we would have to fly the
spinnaker as we needed extra power to
make the most of the expected low winds.
In the first 24 hours we only covered 98
miles, not the 120 we hoped for. Day 2
improved with a few additional hours of
stronger winds and the help of the
spinnaker making it 106. That week we
averaged only 95.5NM a day.
Our sail plan was dictated by the
changing winds throughout the day.
Around 1030 we would raise the spinnaker
until midday when the wind dropped,
making it collapse. We’d then motor until
early evening when the wind picked up
allowing us to sail with the jib poled out.
Each morning I would do my rigging
check. This was recommended by Jerry
the Rigger during his ARC seminar, and
one of the best bits of advice we received.
Since leaving Las Palmas we’d discovered
a loose gooseneck nut, badly worn
forestay lower split pin and two broken sail
slides. On this inspection I discovered that
the forestay’s upper furler had rotated,
wrapping the halyard around the forestay.
By Day 8 we’d settled in to a routine with
755NM behind us. We flew the spinnaker
all day with the steady wind keeping it full.
Up until then we’d not used it at night with
the risk of squalls being greater, but with
the weather so settled I decided to take
the risk. Jan was uneasy so I agreed that
when she was on watch I’d sleep in the
saloon ready to jump into action at a
moment’s notice.
At 0145 jump in to action I did! I woke to
the panic on her face as she kept shouting
‘it’s fallen down’. I had no idea what she
was referring to, my mind jumping to the
worst. What, the mast? I was relieved to
find it was only the spinnaker that had
dropped. I dragged it from the water, stillattached to the clews, and after 20
minutes of wrestling, managed to pull the
snuffer down to control the acres of fabric,
allowing me to stuff it back in its bag.
With no propulsion we were rolled from
side to side, which made the task even
harder. Finally, with the sail restrained, we
unfurled the jib and continued at a much
reduced speed.
Each morning we joined the SSB radio
call-in where we advised them of our latest
problem. At least four other boats had
dropped their spinnaker because of
chafing or broken fixings. Luckily ours was
repairable but with the wind picking up it
was less urgent.Sobering reality
During breakfast, I would download
weather GRIBs, fleet positions and any
other messages via sat phone. The news in
the email from fleet control was sobering.
As I was struggling to pull in the drenched
spinnaker the previous night, a Polish yacht
a few days earlier had performed exactly
the same task. This yacht was not part of
the ARC fleet but we were asked to keep a
sharp look out for the skipper who had
fallen overboard. He wasn’t clipped on or
wearing a lifejacket. It really does make
you aware of your mortality.
On Day 13 Jan alerted me to a message
on the plotter that said: ‘Autopilot motor
current exceeded – autopilot shutting
down’. It had been working perfectly so I
Freshly baked bread mid-Atlantic rebooted the system. Within minutes theOur mid-Atlantic visitor, a booby!A halfway morale booster from our
friends on the yacht Alicia‘We raised our sails
and set out for the
Atlantic Ocean’