Not as tragic as the old movie, but still a touch of sadness as we head for St Helena. We sailed in to Durban a year and a day ago. Not bad since we originally expected to see South Africa in 3 or 4 months. We've seen so much more than we ever expected to, with Namibia addd in as a bonus.
At 1:45 on 2/12/2015 we droppd the mooring and made our way into Luderitz harbour to meet our diesel bowser. There was plenty of space because a cruise ship had been there the day before and no boats had come in since. As we got closer we realised the guys who were supposed to be there to catch our lines and supply our diesel were nowhere to be seen. In many places we can handle this beast on our own if the wind is favourable and not too strong, and here would have been fine. What was a far greater problem was the dock. It's about 3 meters higher than our deck, and the permanent 'fenders' are tyres about 2 meters in diameter, and 3/4 of a meter wide.
Eventually a team of local guys came to the edge and after a few attempts we got a midship line across to them. Normal procedure would be to secure it to a cleat or bollard on shore and then get fore and aft lines across. I thought these guys were from the fuel company and couldn't believe how clueless they were. After a ton of sign language and gestures they got the idea and Wind Wanderer was secure. It was only when the fuel guys turned up that we discovered our helpers were just some construction guys who'd come to give us a hand and had in fact never handled boat lines before. All was instantly forgiven and I was really glad I hadn't 'shared my thoughts' with them!
At last we cast off and headed for open sea.
The wind was light so we motored through Sandy's watch. At midnight change over there was enough wind to get the yankee out, and at 2am I killed the engine and were doing a comfortable 5 kts on yankee alone with a gentle following sea. I'd almost forgotten how magical it is to have nothing but the sound of the wind and sea, particularly at night.
At sunrise the wind dropped and we added main and mizzen. It must have been mid morning when Sandy noticed a mark on the mainsail. We eventually realised it was a small tear which would become bigger if we didn't do something about it. The most practical option was to climb the ratlines and without too much of a stretch, get a self adhesive patch onto it. Even with the harness on I felt like a reluctant dwarf in a dwarf throwing competition, but the patch went on well enough. Usually we'd put a patch each side, but there was no way to get to the windward side for the second patch, short of dropping the sail or going up in the bosun's chair.
As we'd feared, with the wind pressure through the hole it didn't take long to blow the patch off. Plan B was simple, roll in the sail until the tear was in the furler housing and settle for using 60% of the main. St Helena isn't going anywhere so what's a few days longer?
The sailing conditions were everything we could have wished for and for the next few days we notched up 120 nautical miles per day in comfort. I'd noticed that the normal quiet rumble of the propshaft turning freely as the water turns the propeller seemed a bit louder but normal bilge checks hadn't revealed anything out of the ordinary. Probably just me being hyper cautious after so long. It was when Sandy asked if I'd noticed it was louder that I searched for a cause. Eventually I found that a stout timber strut that supports a pillow block bearing mid way along the shaft was moving slightly. It had in fact broken so the shaft was now out of alignment. Decisions! Go back to Luderitz? Nope... against wind and current without using the engine was not an option. Walvis Bay? That would work. We were still close enough to the coast for that. Or continue our joyous run to St Helena?
We decided to watch the strut for the next 24 hours and then decide, which we did and with no further concern we continued our voyage. We wouldn't need to use the engine until getting into an actual anchorage no matter where we went.
Five days out our generator died. We use it make hot water and charge the batteries at night when there is no solar panel input and our drawdown is heaviest. The error message said no raw water flow. I changed the impeller even though it looked perfect, without solving the problem. I decided to remove the flow sensor which is basically a pressure switch, clean it up and make sure all connections were clean. It disintegrated in my hands! There is a lip that can't be seen from the top and underneath the housing had corroded completely. I tried to fool it into working with a bridge across the switch connectors, but it's obviously smarter than I am.
With no genny we had to run the big engine every night which uses more diesel, is noisier, and doesn't charge the batteries as fast so we have to run it for longer. At least we'll be able to get spare parts flown in with St Helena's new airport just completed. Up until now everything comes and goes from the island on the RMS St Helena which does the run from Cape Town to St Helena, on to Ascension Island, back to St Helena and back to Cape Town. Want anything from Cape Town? Wait up to 4 weeks. What we didn't know was that the brand new airport will only open around March/April 2016 once it's safety certification is complete.
The sailing was pleasant with no storms, usually a 1 - 2 meter following sea and light wind. In fact many times we were lucky to do 3 knots. When the wind swung too far east we changed to a starboard tack and headed NNW for a few days. As it tracked south again we could sail almost due west for St Helena. I was aware that relying on wind alone meant not getting into a position where we'd miss the island altogether. It would be hell trying to beat back to windward so we built in a good margin to the windward side of the island. Far easier to run with the wind to the island on the last day or two.
But we drifted along in our happy little bubble, oblivious to the world's problems and in the end did the trip in 14 days, which is the upper range of the 12 to 14 days we'd anticipated.
Two nights before getting here we had another scare. It was Sandy's watch and when she checked the batteries she decided to give them a charge. Turned the key..... nothing! I checked the batteries and found the amp hours on the cranking batteries way up. They only have to show up for work for a few seconds when we're starting the main engine or genny. We realised the guy installng the new alternator in Luderitz only has the charge going into the House bank. Fortunately Sandy hadn't let those batteries get too low, so by switching the house bank to add to the cranking batteries, she started. Big relief!
Early on the 14th day we could just make out the profile of St Helena in the clouds on the horizon. It's a thrill every time we see land after weeks at sea, but the emotions are mixed. Seeing new countries and meeting new people is fun and interesting, but we feel a touch of resentment that our peace and solitude is about to be invaded and we'll no longer be king of the castle.
The wind was erratic and it was touch and go as to whether we could get to Jamestown before dark, or whether we should do a few doglegs and come in at first light. We added the stays'l and worked our way to the island. St Helena is a volcanic mountain top and reminds us of many of the steep, jagged mountains of the South Pacific. They have a rugged, craggy majesty that defies wind and sea.
By 4 pm we knew we could just squeak in before last light if we could maintain 4 knots. I started the engine and put it in gear running at a gentle 800 revs. The propshaft looked fine and we motorsailed for the next 2 hours.
As we approached Jamestown, the only town on the island, I called Port Control but was picked up by St Helena Radio. We got a cheerful welcome and told Port Control would get back to us shortly.
Then we got a call from Avo Del Mar. Our friend, Liz, in Luderitz had told us they'd be here a week or so ahead of us, and had told them to watch out for us. Betty played Port Control and guided us to the moorings, orange if you're over 20 tons and yellow if you're under.
We picked a mooring buoy and were just making the fine manouvers for Sandy to get a line to it when it happened. Zero thrust from the engine! A few more tries but nothing. Fortunately we were clear of other boats having picked the mooring at the end, but we were slowly drifting towards the cliffs and rocky shore. We could get the yankee out fast but with no power and therefore no water over the rudder for steerage, that wasn't going to help.
We were about to get the anchor down when we noticed a small speedboat with 4 guys going past at a fair distance, but we called out and waived. They turned and came across. I suspect they were looking at us anyway, being a new arrival and our waiving was obviously a bit more than 'Hello'.
It didn't take long for them to get our lines onto the moorings, fore and aft and welcome us to St Helena. They also said we were just in time for the Christmas light parade the next night, a big event here on the island and with big cheerful smiles thay took off again.
We suddenly felt that post adrenalin collapse and sat on our back deck with a well deserved sundowner, looking at our magnificent surroundings.
Once again we were struck by our amazing good fortune. Our transmission failed but only once we got right to a mooring. We were clear of other boats and a boat was passing just at the right time to give us a hand. It was a Wednesday, and we've now discovered all the shops here close on Wednesday afternoons. Larry, our knight in shining armour, owns the Rose and Crown (a shop, not a pub in spite of the name) and decided to go fishing on his free afternoon. Makes you think.
Until next time...