The universe was obviously eavesdropping on this proclamation, because as we motored out in calm waters, we discovered a good reason to be purist “wind-bludgers” – emulsified oil in the gearbox.
Blue Bohemia has a sail-drive – a stubby “leg” protruding beneath the hull with the propeller attached - rather than a long shaft-drive. The sail-drive is filled with oil which lubricates the gear-box. The oil should be clear, not an opaque, yellow-ish-white, which indicates a leaky seal and salt-water ingress. If this is ignored, the gear-box will eventually cease.
So no more motoring any great distances for us!
The unpleasant realisation struck us that we needed to lift the boat out on the hardstand to replace the seal.
“But we have only been in the water for less than a fortnight!”
All very frustrating (and costly), but pointless to now curse that we had not replaced the seal before that grand launch day, less than two weeks ago in Izola. However, philosophically reasoning, “if we had tried to complete all the jobs that could/should have been done, we would still be there!”
We rang the closest marinas in Zadar and Split, but no luck – all were busy maintaining the charter fleet, with at least 6 weeks waiting time. The people at Split suggested the name of a mechanic, Bepo, who operated out of a new marina in Kastela Bay, near Split. We rang him and he was very helpful, even suggesting we stay in the “slings” of the travel-lift for half an hour, and he could do the job while the yard workers had their morning tea. That way, we would only have to pay for one lift, rather than a lift out, transfer to a cradle, and another lift back into the water later.
Half an hour to remove the sail-drive, replace the seal and reassemble seemed optimistic to us, but Bepo assured us he replaced the seals on all the charter boats yearly, needed or not. Hmmm, another reminder of what we should have done…
The wind was blowing a gentle 3 or 4 knots from the NE, so we hauled up the spinnaker and sailed a course of 120 deg at a speed of 4 – 5 knots – gotta love that kite! Just after dusk, we drained the oil from the gearbox, refilled it with new oil and motored slowly into Kaprije Bay, a beautiful quiet anchorage for the night.
The next morning there was virtually no wind, so we nursed the engine along slowly until just enough breeze filled in to hoist the spinnaker again. We had another glorious morning’s sail, flat waters and hot sunshine.
This is how Maria liked to keep cool while helming in the mid-day sun.
Having the wind directly behind, means steering a course slightly to the left and right of our heading, to avoid accidental “gybing” - which is what happens if the wind catches the wrong side of the sail and crashes the boom violently across the boat – knocking heads off on its way! We tie a “preventer”, a long rope from the end of the boom to the bow of the boat to help prevent this, but still it is best avoided if possible, by careful steering.
So all the way down our course, every few hours, we did a controlled gybe, deliberately changing the boom from one side to the other, and likewise the spinnaker. One very important thing throughout this manoeuvre, is to make sure that both the ropes that control the bottom edge of the spinnaker are kept tight. If not, watch out – the spinnaker can wrap itself around the forestay – known as a “wineglass” because it looks like one.
OK, we got the wineglass to kill all wineglasses!!
Not just one small wrap in the centre of the sail, but top, bottom, middle, the whole thing was jammed. To add further insult to injury, halyards, topping lifts and other ropes that should not have been anywhere near the forestay were also tangled up in it. It was a doozy!
How on earth to get it down? The wind by now was gusting at 25 knots apparent, which is well over 30 knots true, as we were screaming along at around 10 – 12 knots. The poor spinnaker was flapping and flogging and making a dreadful complaint up there. “Get me down! Get me down!”
“Nothing else for it but to go up the mast.”
“You must be kidding!”
Nope, not kidding. OK, three of us on board, no autopilot, this is going to be fun.
“Run downwind; let the main blanket the kite; keep her steady as you can – and avoid the gybe!”
Easier said than done – and we were running out of sea-room, rapidly approaching land.
Now some of you may have seen TV coverage of those strappingly fit young men on the America’s Cup race boats, who just run up the mast while the boat is sailing along, looking for wind on the water. Well, quite unbelievably, that is what Das did. Good thing he had on his much leaner and stronger sailing body, rather than his sit-at-computer-all-day body.
Even so, Maria thought he must have had a death-wish, as he bounced about up there, rather like a puppet on a string, swinging wildly from mast to forestay and back, trying to get that sail down. Each time it looked as if he had a small section of it under control, a gust of wind would inflate it out like a balloon beneath him, sending him flying out in mid-air. He was straddling it like a bucking bronco, but one that was completely impossible to subdue.
Three times we hoisted him up and down the mast, to no avail. Eventually we pulled in behind a small island and dropped the anchor to try again. At least we weren’t at risk of sailing into the land anymore. But even though the wind was a little quieter, the waves breaking around the point made the boat roll wildly from side to side. Again the puppet was flung helplessly about up there, each painful landing against the mast or rigging knocking the stuffing out of him.
Five or six hours later, defeat was conceded. It was not coming down. The only thing to do was to leave it up there and lash it every few inches around the stay to keep it quiet while we limped into Kastela Marina. Very conspicuously, very embarrassedly, very much to the amusement of all who looked and pointed. OK, so they had the last laugh after all.
Once tied up quietly in the Marina, we winched the sagging puppet twice more up the mast, and finally, just before dark, got it all down.
Oops, forgot this is confidential.
No comments:
Post a Comment