Skipper & Crew: Matt Davis, Andrew Comrie, Mike, Eammon, Ron Finegan, Martin Loughrey & Me.
Before you read the rest of this log, I have to apologise for the 'vagueness' of times & locations, hopefully by the time you finish your read you will understand why!
Thursday 23rd March 2006.
Matt, Ron, Eammon & I arrived in Cowes late morning, after drooling over the boat for about half an hour we sorted out a to do list & got to work. Matt & Ron headed off to the shops to get all the food supplies and various extra bits of kit for the boat. Eammon & I got to work rigging the boat up, needless to say there was quite a bit of 'head scratching' as none of us had rigged the boat before. We spent the rest of the afternoon getting the boat ready, stowing the kit and rigging up the pipecots. Ron got to work on the navigation to take us home while Matt got his chef’s hat on and 1 hour later there were 2 monster posts of grub in stowage (with the lids duct taped on.) Chris & Mike turned up late evening having driven down from Wales, after introductions were over we nipped up town for a quick pint and a bite to eat. Our last remaining crew member Martin arrived on the last ferry at midnight and after a quick crew briefing on safety, individual responsibilities and the complete ban on anybody touching Matt's jellied sweets (seriously, don’t touch his wine gums people) lines were cast & we were off. As we headed off I must admit that there was a definite air of apprehension, we had forecasts ranging from force 6 to force 8 and this boat is exceedingly fast and very, very exposed, all topped off with a sexy black carbon rig that would not look out of place on a 60 footer! Now, for those of you who think this sounds like a pretty extreme boat, bear in mind that Mike has NEVER been on any sailing boat before, he came along at the last minute for the 'experience' and boy but did he have one, so a big hats off to Mike, definitely a man with nerves of steel & b***s of brass.
Friday 24th March 2006.
Off we go, we pull out of the marina at midnight, it’s blowing 15 + kts when we throw up the main, as soon as we turn off the wind the speed starts climbing, rapidly! Within a few minutes of sailing the boat for the first time we are already singing along at 10kts main only, this could be a fast trip! We pop up the number 3 headsail and fly down the Solent. At 1am I crash into my bunk absolutely shattered, I’ve been up since 5am yesterday morning and pass out almost instantly.
I'm back on watch at approximately 4am with Eammon & Martin the wind has swung round so we are now beating our way up the coast, it’s blowing 20-25kts and we are doing about 8kts boat speed, the boat is behaving beautifully she just heels into the breeze and cuts her way through any swells thrown at us, there is a fair bit of pressure on the helm but nothing too tiring. Eammon & I are taking shifts on the helm in 30 minute stints so that neither of us gets too tired or cold. After Eammon has had his spell on the helm he hands it over to me, the boat tends to round up slightly in the gusts so I bear off, or at least I tried to! I’m braced against the side of the cockpit and am heaving the wheel as hard as I can, but dammit I can barely move the wheel. I fought on with it for a few minutes but to be honest could not move the thing more than an inch or to. The wind had increased slightly so I assumed the helm was just getting heavier with the breeze, pretty soon I was overpowered and could not move the helm at all, I called for Eammon’s help who told me not to be such a softie, "FOR FU** SAKE I’M ONLY 62 KILOS AND I CAN’T MOVE THE F***ING WHEEL" I very calmly and quietly pointed out. Eammon took over from me again & heaved on the helm.... "we have a problem". Turns out we had caught a drift net round the rudder, great news, I’m not a weakling! Bad news, we can’t steer! After a few frantic tacks back and forth we shake the net loose and catch our breaths, damn but this boat is hard work, we were still laughing about my "I’m only 62kg" speech when we caught the next one! DAMMIT – another brace of tacks and we are free again, at this point we are nearing the end of our watch we’ve been hammering upwind now for 4 hours and we are all tired and soaking wet, can’t wait for the next crew to take over! Martin nips down below to wake to guys when we catch the third net, aaaggghhhhh, at his point the other guys hit the deck and poor old Ron as navigator & standby crew has been woken up every half an hour to help out. Just as we thought we had everything under control BANG the headsail blew due to all the drag and loading of the rig. Eammon & I are the foredeck crew on the boat so up we go, the guys are still suffering from limited steering and can't help but drop the two of us into wave after wave, man but we were soaked! Finally we slip off to bed late, cold, tired & very very wet, the chances of hitting 3 different nets in one night are so small it can't be possible, I knew I should have bought that lottery ticket!
By the time we are back on watch the entire boat is soaking inside & out, Eammon’s kit bag has fallen in to a bilge during the nights pounding and absolutely everything he brought with him is soaked. Not to worry there is plenty of crew clothing in the forepeak left by the previous owner. This trip is best viewed as a learning experience, it was around this time that we learnt the forepeak also leaks and all of the kit in there is soaked as well, sorry Eammon guess you’re in for a wet trip home. We continued to beat up the coast and the weather just started to drag the spirits down, the interior of the boat has 6 inches of water slopping around, the hatch in the heads leaks & that has filled to bilges to the point of overflowing all of our kit is wet, our sleeping bags are soaked & we have just heard the shipping forecast FORCE 8 IMMINENT – awww crap. A quick executive decision is made & we call in to Salcombe to weigh up the situation, if we don’t get round Land's End before the force 8 arrives we are in for a hell of a trip.
We arrived in Salcombe around 4pm in a beautiful estuary with simply stunning scenery, after a fast change of clothes we headed up into the village to one of the local pubs & got a coffee in front of the fire. A brief detour into the Musto shop had me in a new set of thermals, mmmmm dry... it feels SO GOOD. We spent the next few hours sponging out the boat, re-organising our kit & eating Matt’s stew – good work fella, just what the doctor ordered. I phoned home to Emma who gave us the latest forecasts, it sounds great – 18 to 20kts from the South swinging to South West, brilliant, 7pm off we go again, it takes a lifetime to reach Lizard Point hammering upwind all the way but nothing too eventful.
Saturday 25th March 2006.
At 10am we finally drift round Lands End with no wind but huge swells rolling in from the South, something big is coming our way and we know it. As we head off 'across the pond' the forecast changes again, gone are the 18kts, and now the forecast is force 6 to 7, force 8 imminent, oh goody. Martin Eammon & I are about to go off watch, but just before we go to get the heads down we fire up the mid-weight kite for the next watch. A couple of hours later Eammon & I are roused again to get the kite down, the wind has been building steadily all morning & the guys are having a great sail on deck, I don’t think we’ve dropped below 10 kts all morning. We have already blown the number 3 headsail so decide on the number 4 given the forecast once the headsail is up Eammon & I head back off to our bunks.
I wake up to the sound of water & waves crashing off the hull and a lot of noise from the deck, my god but this boat is noisy inside. I’m lying in the 'luxury' accommodation, a pipecot 2 feet from the underside of the deck when I notice something strange, there seems to be the sound of rushing water coming from above me! As the water sounds increase so does the screaming from the back of the boat, WHAT THE HELL? I climb into my wet gear & open the hatch to be greeted with the sight of the lads sitting on the back rail with a monster wave behind them. As they pick up the crest of the wave the boat just throws itself down the face, accelerating faster & faster rising in tune with the woops and cries of yeeeeha from the lads until the bow buries itself in the bottom of the swell and THAT’S when the rush of water comes hammering up the deck & down the back of my neck, yyeeeaow, not a good way to wake up! This dousing procedure continued all day and night, catching every member of the crew more than once, it was like a wet version of Russian roulette, every time you reached for the hatch you didn't know weather you would be greeted with fresh air or 10 gallons of water!
At this point not a single one of us cared about the cold, the wet or the forecast any more, this is what we came out here for, all hands head for the deck or more specifically the helm, "my turn, my turn" seems to be the cry of the day. As far as we can see there are 40ft+ waves rolling in from the stern they are without a doubt the biggest seas I have ever seen, we are sitting on the side of this exposed flying machine picking up swell after swell, hammering down the faces until we smack into the bottom of the wave sending a wall of spray hurtling back at us all.
On the bigger waves the whole crew is leaning backwards as the boat literally falls down the face, 12kts...14...15...16...BANG, we hit the bottom, and slow...10kts, next wave 12kts...14...15...16...holy shit, this is INSANE! Right, my go, wait for the wave, heave the helm to starboard to pickup the swell & WOOOSSSSSHHH we are flying again, I have to say that the boat felt totally in control the whole time it is just so positive on the helm it fills you with confidence, we are all loving this and it just keeps coming wave after wave all day long. Pretty soon it turns into a competition as to who get the highest speed with the lead changing every 30 minutes or so. Eammon came out as champ with a top speed of 18.5 kts much to Matt’s annoyance in 2nd place (sorry Matt.) During a break from the helm I noticed we are running low on battery power with only 10 volts left, not to worry, I’ll switch to backup battery & fire up the engine. DISASTER – the battery selector has been left in the wrong place and we have drained both batteries and can't get the engine started. Matt & I try to build the compression by hand to try & aid starting but it was no use, we were still close enough to Wales to turn back and head for shore as although we have hand held GPS & VHF there is no way we are going to attempt this crossing without navigation lights. Matt then came up with the idea that hand winding the distributor might build some extra charge, I have to admit that I was not hopeful but we had to try. An hours winding later & Matt got the engine started having built another 2 volts in the battery bank at least we can keep going but needless to say after this our discipline on the batteries erred on the side of obsessive.
The watches started up again at 7pm on 4 hour rotation we get first sleep. Sleep is actually the wrong word, but I don't know what word best describes lying in a pipecot with your eyes open as the boat shudders and shakes it way across the sea, the noise levels are crazy, and every time we slam in to a wave it sounds like we have hit something solid, the water is rushing past me on deck a few inches above my head & it is not a comforting experience. At some point around now we crash gibed, there was an almighty bang & I almost flew out of the bunk. By the time I had looked towards the hatch Eammon was already there & half way out to deck, damn but he's fast!
Everybody was ok but we did suffer a badly bent kicker (and a mild heart attack.) We climbed out of bed at 11pm for our watch, when Martin spotted the condition of my oilskin trousers, they could not have been any wetter if they were underwater "You fancy a fresh pair? I brought some spares with me." I COULD HAVE MARRIED HIM ON THE SPOT! I had a spare set of socks which were donated to Eammon for the duration of the trip, we almost had a group wedding! The rest of the night was interspersed with thanks from me to Martin & from Eammon to me, I should have sold those socks for £100, each!
When we got back on deck I took first go on the helm and I have to admit that surfing down monster waves was not so much fun any more, it's pitch dark with no visibility, there aren't even any stars to help us identify which way the boat is turning. I'm braced in behind the wheel with boat eyes fixed on the compass, never looking away, barely even blinking, just watch the numbers, watch the numbers... It was around this time that I hit my highest speed of the weekend, 15.5kts down the face of a huge swell blind! An experience that I will never, ever forget! (I have a constant reminder of that night as the display numbers from the compass are now firmly burnt in to the back of my eyeballs, in fact I went so long without blinking I could have been mistaken for a goldfish!)
The rest of our shift went pretty smoothly but we were all pretty glad to get to bed – that's the last nightshift for us, the weather has moderated slightly just taking the edge off the conditions and although we are still averaging well over 10 kts it is a lot more comfortable and much easier to keep the boat on course. The guys take over the next watch, during which the kicker finally lets go, those lads have definitely had the short end of the stick in the last few watches though our watch recons its payback for the night we caught 3 fishing nets & blew the headsail.
Sunday 26th March 2006
We get woken for our watch just before dawn and stumble up onto deck for the last time. We had actually expected to be just about home by now and it has made it very difficult to get out of bed, about 2 hours after we get on deck the sun comes up and we are just approaching Dalkey, the spirits immediately lift Martin gets the pan on, and like all good sailors the smell of cooking food wakes up the rest of the gang immediately. It’s a beautiful clear morning as we slide past Dublin one hand on the helm, the other on a bacon & sausage sarnie, everything is cool and relaxed, and we are still doing 9 – 10 kts. Mike takes us in past Howth head and round to the marina our trip is over... Well, not quite. We drop the sails & start the engine, only to discover we have lost gears. After a few minutes we get her into gear and head in to the marina, we head in to the berth and panic! Now we can’t get her out of gear & we are driving straight at the jetty, some frantic fender action later we manage to get the boat stopped & tied up.
NOW we’ve finished Lands End to Howth in 21 hours, now that’s how to cross a sea, any faster and we would have beaten the ferry!
Finally...
I'd like to thank Matt & Chris for inviting me on the boat, it was certainly a trip I will never forget and a huge thanks to all the crew who somehow managed to keep their spirits up & the craic flying even in the toughest and wettest of conditions. I will always remember the high speed runs particularly waking up in the middle of the night on this mad leaping, pitching beast with Bob Dylan blasting out of the stereo in the dead of night, a surreal experience although I did find the Caribbean music slightly out of place. I have also learnt never to touch Matt's jellied sweets, break that rule & you could find keel hauling coming back into fashion very quickly. Last but certainly not least, I bow down and worship at the feet of Mike, having never been on a boat before he took everything in his stride, not one word of complaint at any time, every single member of the crew could not help but be impressed by his attitude & sense of humour I personally would sail with that man anywhere – nice one Mike!
Pete '62Kg' Eagleson