Progress, a bit....

I've managed to make up some bits to clamp the wind generator to the pushpit rail. Plan A was to make a couple of "U" bolts, that turned into plan "B" and a couple of "J" bolts. I figured that they would be plenty strong enough for the job, and a bit less work for me....
The galvanised bits were swapped for stainless at the same time.

The other job I've started to tackle is lining the inside of the hull with carpet. I got a bit fed up with getting a cold arse in the night. The spray glue was "fun" to use, apart from getting high on the fumes, I've now got a pair of trousers which are only suitable for wearing while using spray glue!

  

That's all folks!

That's all the sailing for this year anyway.

It's that time of year again, cold, wet and either dark on the way out or on the way back in again. That, plus my health problems have forced the decision. No more until the weather picks up next year.
I'm supposed to be doing this for relaxation.....

I've been to the boat and taken the sail off, it needs a few repairs, and these are much easier at home than on the boat in winter!

Sometime in the next few weeks I'm going to try and stick the VHF antenna up the top of the mast, it's been OK on the pushpit but any extra height will improve the range.

Not sure what to do about the self-steering. Being wooden, it needs work on a regular basis to keep the weather out. I've not used it much at all this year. I'd like an electric autohelm, but the cash isn't available, so it'll probably get a bit of TLC as well.

I've tweaked the mounting for the wind generator, it's a little more solid now but I still need to clamp the main upright to the pushpit rail. I'm going to get some stainless steel bar and make a couple of custom "U" bolts for the job.
The galvanised "U" bolts I'm using on the support struts will be swapped for stainless in a couple of weeks.

I've taken the upholstery back home, plans are to re-cover it, maybe make some cushions for the cockpit. Also on the inside, the cabin walls are to be covered with some thin carpet, which should make things a bit more cosy.

So, no sailing, but plenty to do!

Most problems in one trip?

Nothing much has been going on lately, my health problems have taken over for a while. At least I managed a long trip this year during the summer and I'm only missing out on the winter sailing.
I dropped in on the boat, just to check things were OK, a couple of weeks ago. Nothing else has happened concerning sailing between that day and the Saltfleet BBQ.
I'd managed to get hold of some stainless steel tubing to use as struts for my wind generator which was still sitting in the shed. My son works in the building trade and told me they use 15mm stainless tube for gas installations, I ended up with two 3m lengths for free!
I cut and made the ends to fit, then the plan was to chuck the lot into the car, drive to Saltfleet and fit it.
Things have a tendency to change.....

I dropped in on my daughter on the way, my 4 year old Grandson, Gregory, heard where I was going and decided to join us!

The fitting went fairly easily, apart from dropping one length of tube into the water. The end was just sticking out and I managed to grab it by hanging over the stern.
The Rutland generator was bolted on the pole, the struts fitted and the rear locker lids just cleared them, only just!

Gregory then wanted to have a ride down the river. That's when things started to go wrong! (apart from dropping bits in the river!)

The tide was still rising, but Grandson was impatient, so I slipped the mooring ropes off a little early. The wind was blowing from the near bank and turned the boat through 90 degrees, but a bit of pushing and pulling got the nose round a bit further, not far enough, but further....

I tried pushing the nose into the opposite bank, hoping the engine would push the stern round. It did, but with the wind "helping" I ended up pinned against the opposite bank. The tide was still rising, so at least I wouldn't get stuck there!
Eventually, after a bit of "forward and reverse" on the engine we shot off the bank backwards - straight towards the club Commodore's boat. I stuck the engine in forward, nothing happened, I got a screaming engine and was still heading for the boat. I cut the engine as I thought it was stuck in reverse and fended off as best I could, the only damage being to my self-steering. That can be sorted easily over the winter.

So, engine restarted, gears seemed to work fine....

We headed off down the river, just to the slipway and back. I stopped for a chat with the Commodore just before the slip, the engine stopping and restarting fine.
As he got in his car and drove away I began to turn the boat to head back to the mooring, that's when I found I'd got no drive!
The engine was running fine, but I'd got no propulsion, forward or reverse.
The big oar was pulled out of the cabin and I paddled it to the visitor's mooring, another member grabbed my rope and helped pull me in.
It only took ten minutes to lift the engine out of the well, where it was soon clear that the shear pin had broken, that's what it's there for I suppose!
It must have been when I was trying to get off the mud a few minutes earlier. There are old mooring chains buried in the banks, amongst other debris....
The more worrying thing was to find that the plastic nut which holds the propeller on was loose, the cotter pin which should prevent it coming off was missing! Could easily have ended up losing the prop.

I had spare shear pin and cotters, so the repair took a couple of minutes.

Coming back onto the mooring Gregory seemed a bit worried I was going to hit the Commodore's boat again, as he was  telling me to stop well before we got to the mooring!

The "spares department" on the boat will also contain a prop and nut in future! 

Rolling at anchor

It's a problem I've suffered from more than once, I'd guess anyone using the anchor has had the same. At best it's uncomfortable, at worst it's throwing things off the worktops in the boat and making me feel sick!

In the venerable tome "Cruising under sail" an answer is described, the "Flopper stopper" as it's called in other places....
A triangular piece of wood, weighted to make it sink and at one corner to make it sink faster! Suspended from the end of a boom out abeam of the boat, the idea is that the weight allows it to dive as it's lowered, but it pulls tight as it's pulled back up with the rolling of the boat. The theory is that it dampens the roll...

I've often heard (from experienced sailors) about nights spent rolling uncomfortably at anchor, and have wondered why the flopper stopper has never been mentioned. Gone out of fashion? Been forgotten? Doesn't work?

I've decided to give it a try. I've knocked one together from some scrap plywood and brass I had lying in the shed.

I'll let you know if it makes a difference.

Just a pic.

Taken by Charles on the trip back from the Skegness YC BBQ.  I thought it merited it's own post.

Another BBQ!

This is a very different post to my last one, another BBQ, but no sailing. This is just a quickie to record the Saltfleet Haven Boat Club BBQ 2011.

As it's my club, I didn't need to sail, just turn up and eat!

I got a few pics of the visiting boats arriving, Alex came on "Runic" from the Skegness Yacht Club and "Will O Wisp" came from Fosdyke marina. "Floozy" was already there, having sailed from Wainfleet the previous day.

The moorings had never looked so busy, boats actually rafted up!

The night went well, the food and entertainment was plentiful, and some new friends made.

I'm already feeling like I want to sail again. Nothing too strenuous, but I really do enjoy being on the water.

Yuan Hang translation.

I got no response from my appeal here for a translation of "Yuan Hang", so I asked at the Chinese forum at   http://www.chinese-tools.com/forum

Their answer was "Sailing far away", pretty close to what I'd found myself. So there it is!

Just to brighten things up, this is a pic of me on the way upriver after the excitement of the return from the Skegness BQQ.

Skegness Yacht Club BBQ and giving up sailing....

I've left off writing up this trip for almost a week. I know I'm usually a bit slow updating the blog, but this time there's been a reason.
If I'd written it last Saturday evening, while at the BBQ, I'd have been writing a very different story.
And probably putting the boat up for sale.....

I've mentioned my health problems briefly, I suffer from Psoriatic Arthritis. Recently it's been getting worse. After the Tyne trip I was exhausted. This trip almost finished my sailing off altogether.

Feeling rough, it was 50/50 whether I made the BBQ trip, but it was just a short run down to Wainfleet Haven from Saltfleet, 20 - odd miles, in company with 2 boats from my club. The weather forecast was good. In theory it should have been a doddle. So I decided to go.
Three of us spent the night sleeping in the clubhouse, Billy and John would be going on Billy's boat. Tony and Charles would be arriving early and sailing Tony's Seawitch.
After an hour or two of banter, we settled down for the early start, 5am!
John was up early and wouldn't make a move without toast and marmalade. He managed by using the shelf from the oven to hold the bread over the gas ring! I did my best to help him eat....

Billy led the way out of the river, me in the middle, Tony bringing up the rear. A N/E 3/4 giving us an easy but rolly trip down to Ingoldmells where we'd drop anchor to wait for the tide to get into Wainfleet.
It was around 15 miles before the "lunch break" and after about an hour I was aching, badly. After another hour I was cursing every wave that bumped me against the cockpit sides... I really wasn't enjoying it. More than that, I wanted to get off the boat. I'd had enough.
By the time I was halfway to my break I was so tired I kept nodding off, literally dropping off to sleep for a second or two at a time before the bouncing boat woke me.
We all went our separate ways to the anchorage, then met up to drop the hooks. By this time I was so shattered that I just went below and slept.

I was woken by the sound of Billy's shouting, he'd been circling me and trying to rouse me for quite a while!
I called back for him to sail on, saying I'd catch up.

Then I had to get the anchor up. I made my way to the bow before I noticed how hard the tide was running. I tried pulling on the chain, but with what must have been 3 knots of current, I failed miserably to move the boat.
I went back to the cockpit and started the engine, leaving it running just above tickover in gear, then went back to the bow. Even with the help of the engine I had to pull in chain when the bow dropped off the waves, and try to hang on as it rose!
After a while the chain started coming aboard, slowly....
My arms hurt, my back hurt, my hands hurt, but up came the anchor, eventually.

Back in the cockpit I pulled up the sail and knocked off the engine, sat back gasping, and tried to catch my breath. I wanted to go home.

I noticed that we were now four boats, I later found out we'd been joined/passed by "Piper" from the Humber Yawl Club, also on their way to the BBQ.
As we neared the Wainfleet channel entrance I counted another three boats waiting.

When the time came we were led through the tortuous channel, snaking back and forth, boats further back in the queue sometimes being closer to the moorings than the lead boat!
Billy wasn't in the queue, his engine had refused to start, he'd be towed in after we'd cleared the way. Tony was ahead of me until his engine died! With so little room to manoeuvre in the channel I thought it best to leave him to be rescued by the club launch. Soon after I'd passed him his engine started.

That was when I'd started to feel smug, having the only Saltfleet boat without engine trouble (for once!). Karma then bit me in the ass and I ran aground.....
Being stuck in an almost direct line between two starboard markers, I assumed I was stuck on the starboard bank. I tried the engine as hard as I dared, nothing moved. I waited a while as the tide was still rising, then tried again - still nothing.
Tony then came towards me and tried to go to the port side of me, as he assumed that's where the channel was. He ran aground.

I once saw a poster hanging inside the McLaren F1 factory, it simply said "Assume nothing".
I stuck the engine in reverse and backed straight out into the channel. I'd been on the port side of it despite what the marks were telling me!

I chugged on up to the moorings, a few of the Skeggy club were on the bank and told me where to go. I went past the slipway and turned the boat round in the time-honoured local way - turn hard and head for the bank, the nose gently hits the bank and the stern swings round.
I had a bit of help tying up from the locals and sat down for a much-needed rest.

I'd been warned that the bank sloped steeply, and I'd be better off if I let the boat sit six feet or so  from the mooring. Ropes rearranged, I headed off to the clubhouse for food.
It must have been all of 200 metres, but felt like a mile. My legs and back hurt and I felt very tired. Not really in the party mood....
The BBQ was extremely well organised, lots of food, drink and seats. I settled for a seat.
I noticed Steve and his son Michael, who had lent me the engine in Bridlington, so had a chat and swapped notes on old engines! He insisted on buying me a beer, I didn't try too hard to stop him.

Not feeling like eating, I took my pint for a walk. The others from Saltfleet hadn't arrived yet, so I went a slow walk down to the moorings to see where they were. I found the boats, but nobody aboard, must have missed them somewhere. I carried on past the Wainfleet visitor centre ( It's a wildlife/birdwatching hotspot), stopping to rest every now and again, as I made my way back to the BBQ.

Back there I treated myself to a plate of food which I struggled to eat. I'd only had John's toast since waking, so knew I had to get it inside me!
A great night was had by most, I sat feeling miserable, contemplating sailing back to Saltfleet in the morning. It didn't appeal.
I did win a bottle of wine on the raffle, so the night wasn't a complete failure!

I headed back to the boat early, probably 10.30pm, to find another problem.
The tide had gone out leaving my boat leaning away from the mooring, too far away even for the short ladder I'd left on the mooring, expecting to need it. The gap must have been around ten feet.
I thought about sleeping on the grass, but in T-shirt and short trousers it might have been a bit chilly....
I'd noticed a pile of timber on the bank nearby and used three lengths of this to build a bridge to my boat.

Once onboard I found the angle it was at was so severe that I was worried I'd be the final straw which tipped it on it's side!
I slept on the cabin sole.

Waking early, the water was just lapping around the lowest parts of the hull. I got off the boat and took a few pics of the boat and the bridge before re-stacking the timber and waiting for the tide to pick the boat up.

I went a walk down to where the other two Saltfleet boats were and agreed a time we'd be leaving.
Billy offered to let John sail back with me as he knew I wasn't well, I felt a little better and said I'd be fine on my own.
Back onboard the now level boat I had a bite to eat before starting the engine.
I motored down to where Billy and Tony were now leaving, bringing up the rear. That was until Tony's engine failed again...
I hadn't got far past him when it started again.

We all made it through the channel without further trouble from engines or grounding, then pulled up sails and headed north. The plan was to sail all the way to Saltfleet before anchoring to wait for the tide to get in.
The wind was now  2-3 S/E, so pleasant, gentle sailing. The forecast was for it to rise to a 4 or 5 butt still from the S/E.

I still felt tired and sore, but some formation sailing brightened the day and lessened my resolve to sell the boat!

As the wind picked up we put a bit of distance between ourselves and made our way to Saltfleet, finally anchoring at around 12.30. High tide wouldn't be until around 7pm. The wind was now F5 and made it an uncomfortable wait ahead. I slept again, to be woken by being thrown across into the mast. Sticking my head out I could see the waves were now around six feet and the wind around an F6.
On the radio Billy and Tony were talking. Tony had lost his anchor and was now sailing around until we could get into the river. He also had no engine and would have to sail into the river, at least the wind was in the right direction, if a bit on the high side.

After another hour or so Billy said he'd go and check the channel for depth, he has the smallest of the three boats and a lift keel. It was more than a bit worrying to see him being thrown around in the channel. Coming back out he said we needed to leave it a while longer. By now I'd got my anchor up, I'd gone to the bow with a line with a large carabiner attached, I clipped this onto the anchor chain and went back to the cockpit. With the engine on I motored forward and pulled the anchor free, then used the line I'd put on to pull it back into the cockpit.

The plan was for Billy to lead the way in, followed by Tony with no engine, me at the back. This worked until Tony got turned around by an extra-large wave, by the time he'd sorted things out he was behind me.
On the radio he asked Billy if he'd got his keel down, reminding him that he had a draft of 2 feet 3 inches. I quietly pondered my draft, 2 feet 10inches!

Billy led us in, surfing on waves of at least 6 feet, just before I reached the bar I saw Tony behind me being turned sideways again, only briefly as he caught it and straightened it up. As I crossed the bar I touched the bottom, bum clenched, the next wave came and lifted me 6 feet before I touched down again. Another wave and I was in!
Ahead of me the channel turned right to run parallel with the beach, the waves were breaking over the bar. A large one hit Billy's boat, knocking it over at least 45 degrees, sending John across the cockpit. The boat soon popped back up and they carried on. The next big wave hit me, but with more freeboard and a heavier boat all I got was a wet top half.

Once in the river the water flattened out and we made our way up, knowing it wouldn't be too far, but far enough to be safe and comfortable.
I soon touched the bottom, closely followed by Tony, Billy simply pulled his keel up and headed for the moorings.
Tony lifted off before me and left me to wait for the tide. I soon joined the convoy.

Back at the moorings I edged around Tony's stern, there still wasn't enough water for him to get on his berth.
As I neared my mooring I was baffled to see Billy being pulled in by someone on the bank. It turned out that his engine had died just before he crossed the bar on the way in. He'd managed to get the jib rolled out quickly enough to save himself!

After tidying the boat and loading the car we all had a chat. It had been a good day - we'd managed to get away with it! Billy had measured the wind at F7 before we came in!

I explained how I'd felt and said I'd have to be a bit more fit before I'd be sailing again, still quietly thinking about selling the boat....

A week later I'm thinking that, on a nice day, I might enjoy a day on the boat.

A very busy morning!

I probably managed a couple of hours sleep altogether, divided up into half-hour stretches, eventually waking properly as daylight started to creep into the boat.
I first checked I was still in the same place, although I'd been doing that all night by GPS. I wouldn't have been too popular if I'd dragged onto the gas pipes coming ashore at Easington!
Happily I hadn't moved, even better, the wind had piped up from the west. This was about F3/4 and, if it continued, would get me safely across the Humber.

I got ready, not difficult as I was still fully dressed, and pulled up the anchor. The tide was in my favour, and with the wind being helpful I was soon heading towards the very busy mouth of the Humber.
Without an engine I'd have to judge it carefully, if things were going wrong I'd be able to head north again, but changing direction in that sort of way isn't recommended in front of a few thousand tons of tanker...

I'd put plenty of waypoints in the GPS, many of them were buoys marking the ship channels, so at least I knew where I was!
The river was as busy as usual as I made my approach, ships heading both into and out of the river, pilot boats, windfarm boats, fishing boats. The bum cheeks were firmly clenched...

As I neared the channel the flow of traffic out of the river eased, it was obvious that not much went against the river current. This made the job a little easier.
There was still plenty of metal heading into the river.
I had to sail around a while waiting for my gap to cross, by the time it came the wind had got up to F5, which would help.

I headed across the channel with bum cheeks still clenched, keeping an eye on the one ship heading in which, if it was going particularly quickly, could spoil my day.
About halfway across the channel (so out of the inbound lane) it became clear that it was going particularly quickly! I was halfway across the outbound channel as it passed astern. Closer than I would have liked, but I don't think I upset anyone as the VHF stayed quiet!      
I was soon across and clear of the shipping channel, bum relaxed...

The only thing now between me and Saltfleet was the Donna Nook bombing range. This meant heading out to sea for about 4 miles, before coming back in just south of it. If the range was closed I could sail straight down the beach to Saltfleet. Then the VHF came to life. One of the windfarm boats was asking if the range was open. It wasn't. He headed out around it, I followed.
I did sneak inside the buoys marking the furthest corners of the range, I didn't expect bombs to rain down there, and it would save me a few minutes.

The problems began when I turned back to reach Saltfleet from near DZ4 buoy. The wind was still F5 from the west, which wasn't too much of a problem, but the tide was running strongly south. On the port tack I was making a little progress north, a little west. On starboard tack I was going south!
I tried for an hour, and made my way slowly to a point around halfway between DZ4 and DZ5, about half a mile. I had another 3 miles to go. At that rate I'd not make the channel at Saltfleet until after high tide if I made it at all.  
I phoned Billy, Commodore at Saltfleet to see if there was anyone around who could give me a tow. He said to give him a few minutes to see what he could do.

After a while I had a call on the VHF from the Coastguard. Billy had been in touch with them to explain my situation, he'd not been able to find me a tow without coming out in the RIB, which wouldn't have been a good plan in the current conditions.
The Coastguard had tasked the Mablethorpe lifeboat, which was already on it's way to me. They were soon in touch by VHF and astern of me within 15 minutes.
A crewman was put onto my boat and the tow was soon set up. Being towed at 6 knots through 4ft seas, I got wet. Very wet, but relaxed and very happy to have the help.

The lifeboat cox was having trouble finding the tidal height at Saltfleet and asked my advice. I'd been planning on heading into the river at around 11.00, and said that anything before 10.30 would be pushing our luck, so we waited for a while. Around 10.30 I rang Billy again, he said it would be OK to head in, and he'd meet us in the RIB, so our little convoy headed upriver, Billy in the RIB, the inshore lifeboat, then me on the end of a rope!
The lifeboat dropped me at the visitor's mooring, then left after a few laughs and many thanks. Billy took the engine off the RIB, I swapped it for the little Yamaha and headed up to my mooring, three weeks and a day since I'd left.

I was exhausted. The last couple of days had taken all I'd got left.
In the clubhouse, Billy made the tea and we had a chat for a while before he drove me back to his place where I'd left my car. He said he'd got jump leads if it wouldn't start after being sat for so long. After all the engine trouble I'd had I wouldn't have been surprised to have more....
It started as though I'd only been gone an hour!  

Scarborough to Saltfleet. Almost....

After a few days of rest at Scarborough, the weather looked like it was going to let us do the final leg back to Saltfleet. The plan was to sail as far as possible towards the Humber and anchor somewhere there, before heading into Saltfleet the next morning. Much like I'd done on the way up three weeks earlier.
Bridlington was going to be avoided for two reasons. Firstly, I felt like I'd been away from home for long enough, I was aching and tired - I needed a proper rest. Secondly, Brid isn't yacht-friendly. The walls are tall and the ladders are vertical and dirty. At the moment they've got a dredger and barge working which takes up a lot of room, this means visiting boats are forced into a distant corner, sometimes rafted 3 deep.
Ali has never been keen on ladders, and with her not feeling too well since we left the Tyne, I thought it best to miss brid and head straight for Saltfleet.

So, early on Sunday morning we left Scarborough and headed south with a nice F4 N/E to carry us along, the downside of this was it would be a "rolly" day with seas having hundreds of miles of the North Sea to build up behind us....
Quite early on it was clear that Ali wasn't enjoying it much.

With Filey Bay behind us, Flamborough Head was the next landmark and a big milestone in the journey home. I was a bit worried that the seas off the head would be rough as the N/Easterly was still blowing F4/5 as we approached. I decided to stay at least a mile off to avoid the worst of it.
A mile off turned out to be too close!
The seas were being reflected off the cliffs north of Flamborough, making it quite an "interesting" passage. Confused seas with the odd 8ft wave coming from any direction, the boat felt very small and was being thrown about like a cork.
A headed a bit further out to sea with little difference, a mile and a half away from the cliffs was still unpleasant. I knew that we would be in the lee of the cliffs soon, so gave up on trying to avoid the worst of it and headed back closer to the cliffs as we were now almost due east of Flamborough head. Half an hour of being thrown around, collecting a few bruises and a few more aches, and we started to get in the lee of the cliffs.
It was like being picked up and dropped into a different sea!
5-6ft seas (with the occasional big one!) suddenly became 1-2ft. Time to relax at last.

The last few hours had left me very tired, even after a few days in Scarborough I had little spare energy. I was aching all over and needed a rest.
The wind eased as I headed down the coast, gradually making my way inshore, until I reached Ulrome. The tide was now against us and progress had slowed. Ulrome looked like a couple of houses surrounded with caravans. I did't mind. I dropped the hook, dropped into the cabin and dropped off!

Not sure how long I slept, maybe 30 minutes.
I woke to find Ali looking green and extremely unhappy. The boat had been rolling badly in the swell coming from the N/E as I'd slept.
I pulled up the hook and started sailing again, I knew the motion of the boat would be much better under sail, although it didn't seem to help Ali...
With the wind now down to F2-3 and the tide running against us, we were making very little progress. I'd decided to carry on as the tide would be changing soon, and I wanted to make as much progress south as I could before dark.
Then the weather forecast came over the VHF. Tonight would be F4-5, and still from the N/E.
With Ali looking worse all the time, I was worried she could be seriously ill if we spent the night rolling badly at anchor. The only choice then would be to call out the lifeboat.
I turned the boat round, started the engine, and headed back for Bridlington.

After a while Ali poked her head out of the hatch and looked confused, although ill, she still knew the coast was on the wrong side of the boat!
I explained my decision and she went back below clutching the bucket.

The engine seemed to be coughing a bit more than normal as we approached Brid, I'd been used to the odd moment of spluttering, but it was now every couple of minutes.
I called Brid harbour on the VHF, but got no reply, so headed in.
As we rounded the first of the fishing boats inside the harbour I was directed to tie up to the dredger until the tide was high enough to reach "Yacht corner".
I'd stopped the engine to hear the directions, it took a good few pulls before it reluctantly fired. It pushed us towards the dredger and stopped again. We waited there for a while, then were told to move further into the harbour. The engine didn't want to play again. A couple of aborted starts got us towards where we were going. I was getting too tired to keep pulling on the starter, so got out the big oar and paddled us up to the side of the extremely tall fishing boat I'd been told to tie up to.
This boat was so tall all I could reach to tie to was a ladder set into it's side. Ali was getting worried that she wouldn't be able to get off at all!
I guessed that with all the comings and goings, we'd be able to move to somewhere more suitable soon. Eventually we were rafted on the outside of two fishing boats of a more reasonable scale. Ali wasn't really comfortable, It would still mean climbing across two boats and then tackling the vertical ladder, but there was no alternative.

We decided it would be best for Ali to go home by road, and she called her sister. The next day she would drive down from Newcastle, pick Ali up, then take her home before driving back up to Newcastle!

I then set to trying to sort out the engine. It was now refusing to start at all.
I stripped out most of the ignition system (again....), cleaned plugs and points, checked all the wiring. Still no sparks...
I then got some help from a boat moored nearby, "Sunshine" turned out to be from the Humber, crewed by Steve and son Michael who were long-time friends of a good friend of mine - Ted, another Humber sailor and almost a neighbour!
It turned out that Steve was a motorcycle mechanic. He came aboard and went through my electrics, coming to the same conclusion as me - the condenser was on it's last legs.

He offered me the use of his dinghy engine, a tiny 2hp Yamaha. After some work to get it running (it had lain unused for over a year) it ran well and seemed to move the boat around the harbour OK when we had to move to allow a long keeled yacht to lean against the wall.
So, with my engine lying on the cabin sole, the plan was to set off the next day using Yamaha power!

The weather forecast in the morning wasn't so good. F6 mentioned. I decided it might be a poor plan to set off into that with only 2hp to get me out of trouble if I'd needed it crossing the Humber.
I got on the phone and ordered a new condenser from Bill Higham in Manchester, he couldn't get hold of the right part, but told me he'd send one that would do the job although it would have to be mounted differently.
I pulled the big engine back up into the cockpit and fitted it back in the well ready for the new part...

It turned up the next day and I spent an hour or so bolting it on and wiring it in.
It still wouldn't start.        
I'd now really had enough. Yesterday's forecast had been wildly wrong, I could have been back at Saltfleet by now.
I decided to swap engines yet again, then  set off as soon as possible with 2hp behind me!
I'd got everything ready to go, so went to start the engine. It wouldn't!!!!
I'd been bought up on old 2 strokes, so guessed a new spark plug would help. I found a motorcycle shop in the town, replaced the plug, then tried again. It started first pull!

There was quite a bit of chop in the harbour entrance as I edged slowly out, the little Yamaha screaming away, but I was soon out and pulled up the sail and stopped the little Yam.
An hour or so after leaving I could see the clouds building over Brid. Big and black. As they edged out from the coast I was reminded of the squall I'd met just before reaching the Tyne. I pulled on all my wet weather gear and got ready for the deluge.
It didn't happen!
The cloud rolled over me, hiding Bridlington from view altogether, but although the wind picked up considerably, there was no rain. Just thunder and lightning! Lots of it.
The weather eventually blew over and I continued south, trying to get as far as Easington where I could drop the hook for the night.

As the light started to fade I started to make my way inshore, the wind had now gone S/W - better for a night at anchor, but on the nose for getting close enough to the beach to drop it!
I started the little Yam, pleased as it fired up and ran like a little sewing machine. Making a couple of knots I gradually got closer to the cliffs. Then it stopped! Suddenly. In a "seized up" sort of way.
Pulling on the starter said different, it wasn't seized but did feel very tight. It would fire, but no way was it going to run.

I thought of dropping the hook, then remembered that the tide was still  going the right way!
The wind had almost died now, but the little bit there was helped get me further south. Very slowly.
As  it began to get dark I was passing Easington gas terminal, then the wind died altogether.
The tide and my planned course just happened to coincide, so I drifted slowly past. I watched the GPS and decided to drop the hook once I'd stopped going south.
I just made it past the gas terminal when it stopped. I dropped the hook and gradually let out chain as I started to drift back north.
Too stressed to sleep properly, I crashed out on top of the gear in the cabin. I knew that if the wind didn't co-operate in the morning I'd be getting a tow from the lifeboat...

Runswick Bay to Scarborough.

After all the excitement of yesterday, with big seas and dragging (floating!) anchors, I was hoping for something a little easier today.
It's about 20 miles from Runswick Bay to Scarborough, passing Whitby on the way. Although a pleasant spot, I'd decided against going into Whitby and getting as far south as possible as Ali was still feeling under the weather.

We left the bay under sail, but very slowly, and, with the tide ebbing against us, the pot markers along the route were keeping up with us! Engine on again...
The wind picked up a little later, and the foul tide eased, so we could do some sailing.
Whitby was soon behind us, the destination for a Dutch boat that gave a friendly wave, a welcome sight on a fairly boat-free stretch of coast.

I was still having to tack as we passed Robin Hood's Bay and progress was slow.
As we neared Scarborough the wind had changed and we were pushing along at 4knts, aiming to reach the harbour around high water.
The last couple of miles flew by as the wind increased to a good F5 and the tide got behind us, at one point I  saw 7knts on the GPS!

Near the castle I radioed in to let Neil at the marina know I was back, then dropped the sail. As we motored in Ali made her first appearance in the cockpit, still feeling very "green".
She was just in time to see a porpoise ahead of us, then a little later a group of 3, it looked to be 2 adults and their offspring. Ali loves dolphins, but this was close enough to make her day!
All that was left was to beat the daytrip boat into the harbour and tie up.
I'd remembered that Scarborough Yacht Club bar opens on a Wednesday evening, you'd be forgiven thinking I'd planned to arrive on a Wednesday.....

The usual friendliness of Scarborough showed itself again when I asked someone where I could buy petrol, almost without thinking he offered to take me in his car, so this time that job was done early!
Eddie made us welcome in the club in the evening, giving me use of their computer to check the weather forecast. It didn't look too clever, and with Ali still needing a break, I decided we'd have a few days "holiday".
The plan was to do the chip shop, beach, rock and all the tourist bit before leaving on Sunday.
To be honest, after the last few days of sailing solo, I needed a break as well!

Engine update.

I got the head gasket yesterday, decided to take my time with the rebuild, so spread it over 2 days.
Just finished bolting it back together, dropped it onto the test tank (big blue bin!) and connected the fuel.
5 pulls and it started.
Runs better than it ever has, starts really easily now, usually first pull.
Left it running in the tank for a while for things to settle in....

Happy chappie!

Heading south.

After a weekend ashore, which helped to recharge my batteries, it was time to start the return journey. Ali was going to be coming with me, so I was hoping for an easier trip as she was good on the helm.
The plan was to go down the Tyne with the tide, it's 7 miles and seems a lot longer! The snag was that the ebb started in the afternoon, which didn't leave much time to get anywhere after the run down the river. I decided to drop down to the mouth of the Tyne in the afternoon, then drop the hook off Herd Sand, South Shields, for the night. We could then set off south early the next morning.

So, extra gear loaded, I said my goodbyes to the excellent staff at St.Peter's marina and we headed off downriver.
The engine still had the occasional miss-fire, but nothing unusual....
The wind was behind us, so I had the sail up as soon as possible, sailing is what I was there for! With the tide ebbing, we were soon at South Shields and dropping the anchor.

The pilot book had warned of the chance of the anchor fouling on the bottom there, so I buoyed it just to be on the safe side,  we were only in about 2-3 metres of water, but I didn't fancy having to jump in to free the anchor if it got stuck!
The wind and tide were conspiring to cause the boat to shear about, so I tied a line onto the chain, let a few more metres out, then took the other end of the line back to the cockpit. With this pulled in, the boat sat at a better angle to the wind and the shearing stopped.
We eventually settled down to a peaceful night's sleep, but I wanted to be up early as Runswick Bay was the target, and in a straight line it was 35 miles away...

Up at around 5am, I got the boat ready to go, then went forward to pull the anchor back up, half-expecting to have problems. Despite the pilot 's warnings it came straight up, so the chain, anchor and still-attached buoy were dropped into the anchor locker. Something I'd regret later....
Out between the piers and the sailing was perfect, the wind was from the west and about F3. Marsden Grotto, Souter lighthouse, then Sunderland were soon behind us.

As Seaham came abeam the tide was against us, and it seemed to take forever before Hartlepool came into view. The wind wasn't helping much either, having gradually backed and increased all morning until I was hard on the wind with the seas building to 3-4ft. Uncomfortable.
Due to the early start, Ali had still been asleep when I left the Tyne, and as the bouncing and slamming increased she was reluctant to sit in the cockpit, so stayed below, reading.
A while after passing Hartlepool the wind backed more, and was now a S/E F5 with some stronger gusts. Tacking with the tide against us didn't seem to be getting far, I worked out that it would be dark long  before we reached Runswick Bay, somewhere I didn't fancy entering without some daylight.

I made the decision and started the engine. A little later I dropped the sail as it wasn't helping a great deal!
After an hour or so the wind was up to F6 and the seas were getting bigger. I thought about a change of plan and consulted the pilot book. Hartlepool would have been easy to reach, dead downwind, but the pilot strongly advised against entering in a strong S/E....
I hoped that if I stayed well inshore, once we'd passed Middlesborough we'd get a bit of shelter from the coast until we reached Runswick Bay. So on we went.
For the next few hours the wind stayed at F6 and S/E, this meant that we were pushing into 6-8ft seas by the time we reached the shipping channel into the Tees. There was a fair amount of traffic here, so it meant a bit of hanging around for a good gap before I could cross. As soon as I started I could see a couple of large tugs on their way out, but guessed correctly that I'd be across the narrow channel safely before they reached my  position. A bit of added stress I didn't really need though!
As we approached Redcar and the coast, I realised the shelter from it was going to be minimal, at least the seas were down to 4-5ft...
This didn't seem to help Ali much, she was suffering from seasickness and I couldn't persuade her to come out of the cabin.

Anchored off Redcar, right where I wanted to sail, was some sort of floating platform, enormous - oil rig scale. A bit of research tells me it was the "Tog Mor" http://www.allseas.com/uk/59/equipment/tog-mor.html  This meant I had to get a little closer to the beach than I'd planned, it gets a bit shallow here. At one point the depth showed less than 1m below the keel, with the wave height still at 3-4ft I was more than a little nervous!
Salt Scar is a long reef off Redcar, and I had to head out to sea to make sure I cleared it, but once past that, the way was clear to Runswick Bay, still another 12 miles away.
We passed Skinningrove, a place I'd like to visit in better weather, then were amazed to see half a dozen or so swimmers off Staithes! In wetsuits, probably surfers, they seemed to be having fun as I shivered, wet and tired past them....
Port Mulgrave, or what's left of it after being blown up to prevent the Germans invading North Yorkshire, still held a few small fishing boats. I've no idea how they manage in any northerly gales!
Eventually, after 7 hours on the engine, bouncing around the cockpit, being drenched in saltwater, aching all over, I could see into Runswick Bay. Relief!

I motored into the S/E corner to get as much shelter as possible, then, in about 4m of water I cut the engine and went forward to drop the anchor. I dropped it overboard along with the buoy I'd tied on at South Shields. I let out some chain, no idea how much really, I was absolutely shattered. We'd left the Tyne around 6am, it was now about 9.30pm. I'd had nothing to eat or drink all day, and felt like I'd been on the wrong side of Mike Tyson...  
Ali was still ill, so I ate something - no idea what, a lot of this evening is a bit of a blur.
I'd been keeping an eye open on our position until I dropped off to sleep, we seemed pretty much static, so the anchor must be fine I thought.

Around 4am I woke up and had a look around. The cliffs that had been fairly close last time I'd looked were different somehow, more distant. Out of the other side, the village wasn't there at all.
I jumped out into the cockpit to discover we were drifting gently out to sea!!!
It was fairly calm and we were still in the middle of the bay, so luckily in no immediate danger. I went forward and pulled up the anchor. There was a lot of chain out and I couldn't work out why we'd dragged. That was until I realised the buoy I'd tied on at South Shields was the problem. It was on about 5m of line, plenty for where we had been when I needed it, but as the tide had risen at Runswick it had lifted the anchor out!
I untied it, then went back to motor us back into the bay.
I dropped the anchor (without buoy!) and went back to bed, although I couldn't sleep after that scare.

Engine problems.

Since getting home, I've had the chance to sort out my outboard once and for all. I hope...

The problem has been ignition-based. During the trip various "repairs" had made a difference. Cleaning up and setting the points, insulating the cracked wire to the condensor, new spark plugs, etc.

At home I'd got an almost complete engine for spares, the snag was that it had electronic (CDI) ignition where mine was the old points and condensor setup.
So I thought it would be better to upgrade the one I was using with the CDI setup from the old one. Couldn't use the other engine, it had a cracked engine block.

A quick look and things appeared fairly simple, the extra bits bolted onto the block, the pulser coil fitted where the points went, etc.

I might have been a bit wrong again!

Pulled off the camshaft pulley to swap the points out. The pulser coil didn't fit - the casting on the cylinder head was different, only slightly, but different.
So that'll be a change of cylinder head as well then!

The donor engine had a cracked block, this had been due to a seized and broken stud in the cylinder head. That meant I first had to drill out the broken stud, another job on the list...
While doing that I worked out why the previous owner had been trying to remove the head. The internal water passages were blocked with salt/calcium deposits, this had probably caused overheating and failed head gasket.
So cleaning the passages out was added to the list!
A couple of days later and I had a usable head.

I didn't have a head gasket for a rebuild (still waiting for that) so decided to leave what was left of mine in place and bolt the thing together temporarily so I could at least get the electronic ignition together and working.

So, head back on, pulser coil fitted, cam pulley bolted on.

The flywheel had to come off next, so I could change the ignition coil under there.
It actually came off easily and the parts swapped without a problem!

Then there were a couple more bits to fit. The CDI unit bolted onto the inlet manifold. Mine didn't have the casting to bolt to, so had to swap that with the one from the other engine...

Then there was the reverse switch. Of course, mine didn't use one at all. Fitting that included swapping the gearchange linkage and pivot arm!

Minor one, the stop switch connector was different, so chopped  off mine and fitted a bullet connector to match.

Eventually the wiring matched the diagram I had, so I fitted the spark plugs into the leads, held them against the engine and pulled on the starter cord.

It sparks!!!

Good big sparks, for the first time since I've had the engine.

So yes, you can convert an old Honda 10hp 4 stroke to electronic ignition.
But you need the cylinder head, cam pulley, inlet manifold and gearchange linkage as well as the complete CDI setup and wiring loom to do it...

Now I need that head gasket....

Running out of petrol.

I mentioned it in my last "trip" post, but only briefly. The whole story is a bit more interesting!

Since I'd fixed the engine in Scarborough (or thought I had....) I'd still had the occasional misfire, it would run rough for a couple of seconds before picking up again. This happened every half an hour or so. Looking back, it's something that has happened since I got the engine.
So, when it coughed and spluttered going up the Tyne I though at first that it was the same old thing. That was until it stopped!
I was near some moored fishing boats, some looked derelict, others were in better shape, not that it mattered much. I pushed the tiller over and hoped to grab hold of one...
The tide was ebbing, so I didn't quite make it. I was a few feet short of even attempting to grab anything, so I scrambled to the bow and dropped the anchor before I ended up back out at sea (or bouncing off a ferry!).
The anchor held and I tried starting the engine. It fired up, but not for long. This was when petrol crossed my mind...
After checking the tank I realised I wasn't going anywhere tonight.
I made a plan, which is an unusual thing for me to do. I'd start the engine, hoping for enough power to get me to the fishing boat   which was about 10 metres ahead of me and a couple of metres nearer the riverbank, get a line onto it before the tide took me back, then relax.
I tied  a line onto my boat ready for use, fired up the engine (after pumping the priming bulb for a minute or so) and aimed it at the fishing boat!
As expected, the engine died before I got there, but there was enough momentum to carry me up to a tyre hanging off the side of the fishing boat. If I could just get a line through it...
Leaning out of the cockpit, left leg through the companionway into the cabin, I just managed to grab the tyre by my fingertips as my boat came to a halt. Then the tide took over!
As the pressure of the river Tyne pushed the boat back my arms stretched, my leg stretched from the cabin and I realised I was onto a loser. I let go, the boat settled back onto the anchor.
Plan B was the same as Plan A, I just hoped that I could get a bit closer this time.
Pumped the priming bulb again, fired up the engine again, this time I opened the throttle wide and hoped for the best.
This time I managed to get a line through the tyre!
I tied it off and slumped into the cockpit, knackered.
After 10 mins rest I readied a couple more lines and climbed onto the fishing boat. Stepping over holes in the deck, I pulled Yuan Hang up level with it and tied up for the night.
I sat back in the cockpit for another rest...

It was about 11pm, so the chances of getting any petrol tonight were slim, but I thought I might as well go and explore a bit, at least find out where I was.
I climbed over the fishing boat (actually, the derelict ex-fishing boat) and onto some dodgy floating pontoons made from sleepers and plywood, then up a ladder into what turned out to be a scrapyard, locked. I thought the best plan would be to get some sleep, then surprise the scrapyard workers in the morning!

After an uncomfortable night, half-expecting the derelict I was moored to was going to sink and take me with it, I did the assault-course trip back up to the scrapyard. There was a guy working on a forklift truck who, as I explained I'd run out of petrol in a boat, didn't bat an eyelid.
He gave me directions to the, luckily nearby, petrol station, and I went for essential supplies.

Once the tank was topped up, the engine started easily and I made my way up to St. Peters Marina.
I couldn't have been made more welcome, tied up in the visitor's berth, my battery on charge in the marina offices, I had a shower before being picked up by Ali and her sister for a weekend on dry land.  

Just a quickie!

I'm home.

Since I've got back I've needed to rest, a lot!
Stiff and aching from 3 weeks on a small boat, tired from being short of sleep.
The arthritis has been coming on strongly for a while now, which has made the whole trip much harder.

Still have engine trouble to resolve, but working at home and at my own pace is much easier than working on a rolling boat under pressure....

I'll be posting the rest of the trip soon, including 8ft seas, seasickness, 2 failed engines and ending with a tow for the last 2 miles into Saltfleet.

I'm on the Tyne!

No sign of fog anywhere....

After all the excitement of Scarborough, I headed for Runswick Bay. Sailed all the way there, then dropped the hook with the bay to myself. Beautiful, peaceful spot.
Next day was to be 35 miles to Tynemouth, then another 7 upriver to St Peters marina, just a mile from the city centre.

Started well, with enough wind to have to reef a little, but after sailing along the coast to have a look at Staithes, I headed straight across Tees bay to the Tyne. An hour later the wind decided not to co-operate and dropped to almost nothing.
Doing 1 - 1.5knts wasn't going to get me there until the next day, but the forecast had been F3-4  with 5 at times, so I hung on....
It did eventually pick up, and with 2.5knts showing I was happy enough.

That was until the squall hit.....

I saw it coming for half an hour, had time to get the waterproofs on, stow anything that wouldn't like getting wet, and reef the sail. Then it hit.
From F2-3 it went to F6 and started to hail. After 15 mins it eased and I was a quarter of a mile further out to sea than I had been. Another 15 mins and it was back to F3 and sunny.

It was a long day, but passing close to Souter lighthouse meant I was almost there.
About a mile short of Tynemouth the wind died away, so engine started and off up the Tyne I went.

Halfway up the Tyne anyway.....

I ran out of petrol. Due to all the engine problems, I'd forgotten to top up in Scarborough.
Spent the night tied up at the back of a scrapyard, which could have been worse, as the petrol station was just a 10 min walk away!

Tank topped up, I headed up to St Peters marina and a weekend off!

An enforced break.

Getting to Scarborough was easy, no wind, so engine all the way. A bit of mist off the cliffs north of Flamborough added a bit of atmosphere!
Having had a bee stay onboard most of the way to Brid, today's visitor was a young gull. It flew ahead of me, then waited until I went past before flying ahead again. Stayed for a couple of hours, then probably got bored with my conversation.... I tried to identify it using the book I'd got with me, bloody useless and now 75ft below sea level!
Dropped the hook outside Scarborough in the early afternoon in baking sunshine.
Got a call on VHF later to come in, that's when the fun started!
Started engine, pulled up anchor, got back to cockpit to find engine stopped. Started engine, engine stopped....
Dropped anchor again....
Started engine, stopped again.
Let harbour know I was having problems, then swapped spark plugs for new ones, as spark was weak.
Made no difference.
On VHF again to keep them informed.
Got a call from a fishing boat offering to tow me in.
"Predator" tied me alongside and deposited me neatly on the visitors pontoon.

Predator...

Friday evening and Saturday was spent trying to track down the problem. It would start and tick over, but died as soon as the throttle was opened. Sounded like fuel starvation. Ended up with the fuel tank lifted above the engine and connected straight to the carb, no difference!
Going back to the weak spark....
Changed the ignition coil, no diff... You get the idea..
By the time I'd found the points were a bit pitted I was getting tired and stressed. Cleaned them up and put it back together. No difference!
Steve, moored next to me suggested the condenser could be the problem, and a few of the Scarb Yacht Club told me where I could possibly find a replacement, but not until Monday.

So, early Mon morning I strip the engine again so I can take the condenser for a comparison and swap. As soon as I unscrewed it, I could see cracks in the insulation in 2 places! Wrapped in stretchy self-amalgamating tape and screwed back together I sat down. I hardly dared to try it and find "no difference" again....
Anyway, I did and it worked!!!
Running better than ever, I know now what's been causing the odd splutter since I've had the engine!
So, it's heading north again early tomorrow.
Today I'm relaxing....

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Bridlington

Rafted to Phun, a Parker 31 built in Boston.

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I'm off!

On the phone, so short and sweet...
Left Saltfleet 18.00 on Wed.
Crossed the Humber with no wind, dropped the hook for the night north of Easington.
Yesterday, same wind.... Sailed to within 4 miles of Bridlington, then got the engine on.
Had food onboard Phun, a Parker 31, thanks to Pat and Pam.
Left Brid at 05.00. Wind F2 N/W, no use!
Engine on all morning, now crossing Filey bay on my way to Scarborough.

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Short update.

Not a lot of action lately, but I've been busy...

No sailing, just getting things sorted for the "big trip". Plan A is to head out of Saltfleet in about 2 weeks time and turn left. Main target is the River Tyne, but my plans have been known to go wrong - that's why I rarely make plans!

I'll be single-handed on the way up, that means both the windvane steering and the electric autopilot have to be working.
Electric one was easy, only problem was the plug/socket connector was on it's last legs and occasionally got stroppy and wouldn't let the electrickery go through. Found an identical one at Seamark Nunn, plug is fitted to the A/P, socket will be screwed on at the next visit to the boat.
Windvane frame has been bolted back on, although I lost a couple of bolts over the winter and I'll need to replace the replacements as they're not stainless...
The windvane has had a major makeover through the winter, with bits of it being dismantled, rebuilt, painted and fitted with "proper" bearings. Let's hope it works!

I've yet to fit the new "galley", a piece of plywood with a hole cut out for the Origo Heatpal to sit in. It'll make a change to cook without it sitting on the cabin sole! It'll go where the gas cooker was sat, and I'll be able to lift it out and sit it as low as possible when using it to heat me instead of my food...

Then there's the Rutland 503 windcharger. Still have to fit that and wire it in.

I'ts going to get even busier if  I'm going to be done in 2 weeks.

Just  to make it look pretty, here's a pic of the shiny new mooring!

Asking for a little help.

I've been digging around in the "technical" bits of the blog and noticed some strange things.

Firstly, a lot of people have been reading it. that's a bit of a surprise in itself as I only really started to keep a blog for my own use. It was just to be a record I could look back on when I start to go senile.
Some people that know me best think that started a while back...

The other thing is the number of different countries it has been read in, I've had to turn to Google to find out where one or two of them are!
Hands up, who could instantly point to Moldova on a map? (Moldovan readers are excluded!).

This brings me to the point of this short entry.

There have been quite a few readers who are based in China. This puzzled me for a while, which just goes to show that the senility might just be setting in.
The name of the boat might just be something to do with it. Doh!

So, to any Chinese visitors, I'm making an appeal for help.

Yuan Hang. The name of my boat. What does it mean?
I've tried online to get a translation, the closest thing I can find is something like "Sail Far" or "Long Voyage".
If I'm way off with my translation please let me know. The name came with the boat and I'm not going to be changing it. To know for sure it doesn't mean "Son of Titanic" would be great!

Second thing that's been a puzzle is the Chinese symbol on the sail, this one....

After looking at enough Chinese characters to almost get me speaking the language, I've asked elsewhere and have been told that it's the symbol for "Water", but that someone has made a cockup and it's a mirror image!
It seems that someone had the transfers made up wrongly, and it's been there for the best part of 30 years unquestioned!

So, Chinese speakers attracted by my Chinese named boat, I ask for your comments.

6/7/april/2011

I've made my mind up that I'm going to be doing some sailing this year, having spent most of the last year trying to remember what it's like. But I've probably said that every year....
Anyway, the weather looked OK, so I made a decision (I do that now and again!) and threw as much gear into the car as I  thought I'd need and headed for Saltfleet. I'd sleep on the boat, then finish off connecting up the outboard cables in the morning (I'd dropped the engine back into the boat on a previous visit) before heading into the North Sea for the day.

It was dark before I reached the moorings, so most of the gear was left in the car, just took the food and sleeping bag with me onboard - there was enough junk lying around in the cabin from previous visits anyway.
Too early to sleep yet, I settled down with a book for an hour or so before turning in early, I wanted an early start as the plan was to be off the mooring by 7am.
I dropped off pretty quickly as I usually do, but not for long.....
At midnight I was jumping up, banging my head on things and generally trying to work out where the hell I was and what the **** that noise was! I remembered wasn't at home, so gave up trying to turn the bedside lamp on.
I eventually worked out I was on the boat, and that the noise was an alarm clock. But I hadn't set one. And it was pitch black outside!
I found the clock and fumbled with the buttons until the shrieking stopped.
It was the clock which lives permanently onboard, and had been set for midnight - obviously by accident. The thing is, it must have been going off at midnight every night for months! Good job it's very rare anyone else sleeps onboard at Saltfleet... I could have been public enemy No1 by now.
It took me a while in half-asleep mode to work out how to switch the alarm off completely, but having done so I settled back down to sleep. At least I tried to.
Dozing and waking for the next couple of hours wasn't what I'd planned. It even got chilly enough that I had to find some extra clothes and wriggle into them before eventually dropping off until daylight disturbed the already disturbed slumber.
At least it was over !

The outboard cables connected, the gear from the car collected (almost poetry there!), I was ready to go.
I set up the netbook, and plugged in the GPS mouse. I wanted to get a track of the channel on the way out. By the time I'd set it up the "Low Battery" signal was flashing at me, 10 minutes power remaining. So that got put away...... New battery on the shopping list.

I'd seen Commodore Billy getting the inflatable out and had a quick word, he was going to be putting some channel markers out. With a bit of luck I'd be able to find my way back in...

With the mooring lines let go, the boat turned around easily in the channel with a gentle push (unlike the last epic adventure!), but as I put the engine in gear it gave a "Swoosh" and a cloud of steam surrounded it! It cleared as quickly as it appeared, and after checking the tell-tale was OK all seemed well and I was off. Probably a bit of crap in the system causing a temporary blockage, I nervously checked the stream of water coming out of the engine every few seconds.
The sun was shining, there was a gentle breeze from the N/W and I pulled the sail up for the first time this year. Due to an unforseen meeting with the beach last year, I didn't dare try to sail out and the engine was left running until I was well out over the bar...
A quick word with Billy, still busy with an inflatable full of marker buoys, and I realised I'd have to make up my mind which direction to head in.

Directly to the north of the Saltfleet channel is Donna Nook bombing range, this is a good place not to be. The RAF and the USA forces use real bombs and bullets there. I decided to skirt the range, hoping for some close-up (but not too close) action. The VHF broke into life a little later and the range was declared "Open" at around 9.30am.
I carried on, mercifully without any need for the engine, towards the far corner of the range. The wind had picked up enough for me to reef the sail a little, just enough to stop the gusts from causing my chart to slide off the cockpit seat...
I reached No4, the buoy marking the corner of the range, but hadn't seen any military hardware, the only pic I got was this one!

From here I headed a little further south and away from land, I thought I'd pay a visit to another Buoy - "Protector" which marks the Protector overfalls, something like 7 miles offshore and less than 3 metres deep at low water.
It was a leg of a little over 4 miles, and during the hour I'd expected to take, the wind dropped, then dropped some more. By the time I'd reached the buoy it was down to a gentle breeze, it had taken almost 2 hours, partly because the tide was starting to ebb northwards.
As it was the second highlight of the trip, I took another pic....

From  here I set course back towards the coast, now barely visible. I set a waypoint on the fixed GPS to take me to Theddlethorpe, south of Saltfleet, and set course.
The wind had dropped even more now, with barely enough to sail. The sloppy sea was rolling the boat as it was coming beam-on, and the sail swung about and the boom regularly hit the mast harder than I liked. I dug out a spare line and rigged a preventer which ran from the end of the boom, forward around the pulpit stanchion, then back to the cockpit. It did the job and held the sail square to the line of the boat, meaning I didn't have to keep ducking to save myself from strangulation from the sheet as it kept crossing the cockpit!

As I gently eased towards the coast I noticed that the compass heading and the GPS track didn't quite agree, they differed by around 90 degrees! I was making about 1 knot forwards, but the tide was taking me sideways at a faster rate than that. It soon became clear that I'd be visiting Theddlethorpe another day.
After a couple of hours, trying to sail as far south as possible, I was heading for the bombing range to the north of Saltfleet! As I'd heard them close the range earlier on the VHF I wasn't too worried. However far north I ended up, I'd be pushed back south once the tide turned - all I had to do was to keep heading for the beach.
As I entered the bombing range there was a splash behind the boat, not a bomb, but probably a seal I thought. A little later I saw a small black shape break the surface for a second, but not quite seal-like. As I watched it did it again, and this time I could see a fin on it's back - it was a Porpoise! Half an hour later I had the same sight again, this time in front of the boat, could have been the same one, could have been another, but great to see either way.
After getting as close to the beach as I felt comfortable with, I tacked and headed back out to sea. The wind had picked up bit by now, and the preventer had been removed.
I could make out the wreck which marked the entrance to the Saltfleet channel, and with the binoculars could pick out a couple of "Billy's buoys".
I'd planned to head back in around 7pm, it was still only 5.30 as I reached the channel entrance after tacking again. As the conditions were fairly benign, I decided to "feel" my way in, after all, I was only going to find out the limits of the channel by pushing them!
As I neared the wreck I felt the "bump, bump, bump" then came to a halt....
I dropped the anchor to hold my position until the rising tide did it's work, and dropped the sail. Within a few minutes  the bumping had stopped. A few minutes later I started the engine and pulled the anchor up.
I headed back out a little in order to line up properly with the channel markers before gently edging in past the wreck, not getting much further before the "bump, bump, bump, stop"!
I spent the next hour "bumping and stopping" my way up the channel, taking the chance to do a bit of cleaning and tidying around the boat.
Eventually the bumping stopped altogether and I started the engine, gently cruising up the channel to the moorings, tying up with an unusual lack of drama at around 7pm - the time I'd planned in the first place!
At least I now know the height of tide I need to get into the river....
    

After all of that mooring building......

I'm moving the boat!

After doing just less than bugger all sailing last year, I've had to make a change. We all know the problems, getting the right weather with the right tide, hoping that coincides with free time. On top of that my body is slowly falling to bits, which limits things further.

The mooring I'm on dries out every day, and gets wet most days....

On neap tides I can't get off the mud.

Long story short, I hardly got the boat out on the water last year at all.

Not a great deal I can do about my health, and the weather and tides do as they will, the only thing I could change was either to dig a hole for the boat to sit in, or to move onto a better mooring.

I couldn't find any navvies to do the digging, so I moved!

Saltfleet boat club (I'm still not in a "Yacht" club ;-) ) is very small, but very hardworking. Towards the end of last year, as well as building a clubhouse, they hired a digger to dredge a stretch of riverbank, this done they built some new moorings. I was offered one and didn't hesitate to accept. Not only will I be able to sail on every tide, it's just 50 yards from the clubhouse where I can put my feet up and make a cuppa when the weather is iffy.

So plans were in place, the move was on.

Of course, I still had to pick a big enough tide to get off the old mooring, but health and weather were not quite so important for a 200 yard move up the river, or so I thought...

Arriving at the boat on the appointed day, I busied myself getting things ready while I waited for the tide. I'd have the sail ready as the wind was favourable, although very light. I'd also have the big oar, with the "Yuloh" attachment I've made. This was more down to wanting to try it out for the first time than actually expecting to need it. I've been wrong before though.

Eventually there was enough water to try the engine. It hadn't run since October, so I was amazed when it fired up first pull!

I was less amazed when there was no water coming from the tell-tale. Bugger!

Without the time to sort out whatever was bunging up the waterways, I would be engineless.

No problem, thought I, the wind was still just enough to do the job, and I still had the Yuloh to try out.

As high water came I cast off the bow mooring rope and pushed the nose of the boat out into the river so I could turn it around. That was the plan anyway, unfortunately the tide still wasn't high enough and the keels were still sat in their holes in the mud!

A bit more waiting, a bit more levering with the big oar over the side into the mud, and she started to swing out.

This was when I discovered another idiosyncrasy of Saltfleet Haven. Despite it still being an hour before high water, the river seemed to be going the wrong way! It was flowing out to sea and taking my bows with it.

I've puzzled over this since, and the only thing I can put it down to is a sort of "rebound" from the end of the river. 50 yards upriver from the new mooring is the sluice. The other side of this is Lincolnshire's famous "below sea level" farmland, at low tide water is allowed to flow out to sea in order to keep the land drained. When there's a lot of rain it has to be pumped out....

Now, to the incoming tide, this sluice is simply a concrete wall - the end of the river - and there's not much else it can do (I'm assuming here) other than head back down the river on top of itself.

I might be wrong, and I'd be happy for a proper explanation if you have one, but for now it'll do.

What I had was a rising tide, which I wanted, but the river flowing the wrong way.

Back to the move....

Once I'd pushed the bow round far enough I'd be able to use the sail, so I got this ready to hoist. Using the oar, I pushed the bow round using the river bed, once I'd got it far enough I dropped the oar on the coachroof and got back to the cockpit to hoist the sail.

By the time I got there the current had swung the bow back downriver, double bugger!!!

Back to the bow again then, big oar over the side and start pushing, got the bow well round, and a bit further than last time, before getting back to the cockpit a bit sharpish to pull the sail up.

Treble bugger, not sharpish enough, obviously! The bow was already facing the opposite bank as I started to pull the halyard......

Right, this time I'd hoist the sail, push the bow round, then nip back to the cockpit and cast off the stern rope. Easy.

No.

All went to plan until I got to the cockpit to find the wind had disappeared while I wasn't looking. The bow swung back.....

At least there was nobody watching!

I sat in the cockpit, sweating, shaking a little from the exertion, and made another plan....

Push the bow round, get back to the cockpit, then start the bloody engine! Cooling water or no cooling water, I'd only need it for a few seconds.

It worked. I was moving.

Stopped the engine as soon as I'd gathered enough speed to send me upriver. The sail was still up as I was too knackered to deal with it, so I pushed the boom out hoping there might be enough wind to keep me moving. I was wrong. Not unusual that.

I was drifting towards the boats moored on the bank and, being such a small river, they weren't far away to start with.

This gave me the chance to drop the yuloh over the stern and glide gracefully up the river under my own power. Guess what? Wrong again.

The yuloh consisted of a 9ft oar, with a 3ft extension joined by an offset bracket, it turned out that the bracket wasn't quite up to the job and once there was enough pressure on it, the oar could turn inside it. Quadruple bugger!

So I started the engine again. A few seconds and then off again.

This got me another 50 yards or so, clear of the boats and to where the high sea defence banks were lower. There was a bit of wind, I was sailing!

OK, I was sailing so slowly it was difficult to tell, but I could steer, so that would do for me and I relaxed for 10 minutes.

As I neared the new mooring my "crew" was ready. Ali had been waiting with a rope to throw to me, in case I needed a pull in to the bank. About 20 yards before the mooring (and about 18 yards too early) I dropped the sail. The boat stopped. How many "buggers"? I've lost count...

I made the last 18 yards kneeling on the bow using the big oar (downgraded from Yuloh again) to hear Ali singing "Just one Cornetto"!!!!

I got the nose in and tied up the bow mooring rope, went back to the cockpit and found out that the boat wasn't going to fit between the mooring "arms"! Most of the boats at Saltfleet are smaller than mine, and I've only got a little one.....

With the mooring lines lengthened, the boat sat outside the mooring arms. Job done.

Well, almost.

The engine had to come off and go home with me. It's heavy, I was already knackered.

Anyway, I disconnected the control cables, wrestled it into submission in the cockpit and made a plan to lift it off the boat. Then I noticed......

The platform on the mooring was being covered by the still-rising tide. A few more buggers!

Already six inches deep, I took my shoes and socks off.... It was bloody cold!

The engine finally wrestled into the back of the car, the boat tied up, I went home.

I need a smaller engine..... and a way to stop the oar twisting in that bracket..... and....

It never ends with a boat does it?