Sailing, Dolphins and Night Entry

Sailing, Dolphins and Night Entry
Sunday, September 13, 2009
PLF

Al says that I never talk much about sailing in the blog - only our adventures on dry land. I suppose that’s partly because we spend more time on land, but mostly because the being at sea part is a very different experience, and what happens there is to an extent covered in the ship’s log. On the hour (more or less) we record the atmospheric pressure, any changes in sail set, where we are according to the GPS, any navigational marks we can see, with very occasional remarks like ‘DOLPHINS!!’. And that’s what it’s like. Our last trip went through a couple of days and a night, a bit too short to really pick up the rhythm of passage-making, but long enough to remember what it is like. During the day we don’t have an official ‘watch’ system - seems excessive with just 2 of us. But each of us gets some time to rest and some time out of the sun. That’s important - on completely clear days, with little wind, it’s easy to get over-hot, and feel sun-soaked, even with long sleeves, hat etc. At night we do 3 hours each with about half an hour hand-over time for waking up, getting dressed and seeing where we are and what lights are visible.

The 3 things that influence the ‘feel’ of the trip most are waves, wind and cloud cover (or the lack of it). Waves are made up of the ocean swell - in our case coming in from the Atlantic. This can be anywhere from nothing to several metres; we had around 2m and that’s enough to lose sight of other small craft for a short time. The wind was behind us - potentially a good point of sail - better than the wind ‘on the nose’ but the boat rolls a lot, and the course we could comfortably steer was around 20º away from where we wanted to go. Sailing involves a lot of compromise! Incidentally, downwind is also tough on the autopilot which is probably why she resigned!

Now - just when we were getting over-hot, and a bit fractious, on the second afternoon, the dolphins came. I was peeling off layers of clothes, having just discovered how hot I was, Al was on deck, we had just put the engine on to improve the course, and along came dolphins. Hard to know how many - when we started to watch them from the bow, we could see one individual coming back again and again. We could recognise him by a pattern of white squares - scars, I suppose - on his left side near the tail. S/he was one of the bigger ones and would come barrelling in at speed to apparently dodge the bow and ride on the wave. We saw young dolphins, swimming alone or with an adult, groups of 2 or 3 swimming and jumping together, one clear out-of the-water leap, and lots of parallel swimming and crossing with the boat. They must have been with us for an hour or so and then they took off, back into dolphin world. I think they were common dolphins, with a yellow streak along the sides of their creamy underbellies. (That’s a really peculiar word!)

Night was fairly uneventful under mainsail and motor. Not much shipping around, just some distant lights. It’s a good area for big lighthouses, marking Belle Isle, Glenans, Pointe de Penmarc’h. They can be seen over 20 miles away.

Entry into Le Guilvinec, at low water around midnight, was interesting. There’s a good set of leading lights, to keep boats off rocks and shallows. There are 3, quickly flashing in unison, and all you have to do is keep them lined up by steering towards the front one. (Line up you finger with a distant object, move your head from side to side and you’ll get the idea.) The harbour mouth is a kind of ‘S’ bend, so a bit of a confusing approach. We followed the pilot book instructions and all came good. We were also helped by a generous full moon, although she was also responsible for the very shallow tide.

Forecast is determinedly N Easterly and maybe I have to get used to the idea that Snork Maiden will have to stay here for the winter.

Still, crewing offers all considered. C’mon you scurvy dogs.