Sailors and science

I came across this article on the BBC recently and it struck me as an excellent idea and one in which sailors could make a contribution with very little effort. It's a simple device to measure plankton for Plymouth University and this is part of what they say:

The marine phytoplankton account for approximately 50% of all photosynthesis on Earth and, through the plankton food web that they support, they both underpin the marine food chain and play a central role in the global carbon cycle strongly influencing the Earth’s climate. 

Living at the surface of the sea the phytoplankton are particularly sensitive to changes in sea surface temperature. A recent study of global phytoplankton abundance over the last century concluded that global phytoplankton concentrations have declined due to rising sea surface temperatures as a consequence of current climate change....
You can read the BBC article 

here 

and the stuff from Plymouth Uni

here

this second link has an additional link to downloading a mobile app to report the data you find. Apart from a phone they ask you to make a white 30cm disc, called a Secchi, take a reading between 10 and 2pm and a few other small points -  well you can read about it in detail on the second site. Seems a great idea to harness those already out there on the oceans to provide valuable data. Most yotties I know seem to have mobile phones so no reason not to get involved....

Here we go again...

It's 5.30pm, high water was about an hour ago and yet the water continues to rise...we're in the middle of, yet another, winter storm and the NW wind blowing around 35knots with, apparently, possible gusts of 45 knots from the NW. The worst direction in Scott's Creek and a chop has built up which will probably increase as the tides tries to ebb.

Bee working her way back down the jetty...

 Bee has just leapt off the boat in her wellies to collect a parcel our friend Cary has been expecting. The UPS driver was alarmed to see the wild haired woman trying to run through the water that has already risen above the jetty... and couldn't work out why anyone would be coming from that direction in this weather....

As luck would have it we have both the Carrie B and a local ferry in alongside us. Unfortunately the jetty they're on is really only long enough for one vessel so the Carrie B has about a third of its length against the jetty whilst the rest remain in limbo. Lets hope both the jetty and their lines hold or this place is going to look like a skittle alley.

I think it'll be a long night.

But it has been quiet and restful, well perhaps not for this fish. At the moment the top of this piling is struggling to stay above water as it continues to rise.

Redbird and Hannah side by side, a bygone era

Sometimes you need a little bit of luck...

Prompted by a series of posts on  here I was reminded of my recent experience of going overboard. The posts concern the sensibility of being either harnessed or wearing a life jacket at all times; not a philosophy we either share or agree with but each to their own. But it got me thinking, looking at where on the boat it had happened and whether a harness and or life jacket would have made a difference. You can read about what happened here if you haven't already but the conclusion I came to is this. Well OK lets first rule out the life jacket as we have never worn them ever on Hannah but we do, if we think conditions dictate, wear harnesses and on that occasion we did not feel conditions warranted harnesses. That's our decision, others may, and do, adopt a very different approach and that's fine by us. So thinking about what happened this is what I feel may have occurred and what a possible outcome may have been had I been wearing a harness.

When the boom swung back toward me I was moving to my left and I probably caught my left heel against the running backstay which is stretched taught between a block and a winch (not a good arrangement which we are now taking steps to change) It was this stumble, coupled to trying to dodge a swinging boom, that began the process of tipping me upside down over the side. Had I been wearing a harness it would have been clipped on to a jackstay and thus dangling vertically from chest level to the deck. Somersaulting backwards would have, probably, meant my legs passing either side of the harness as I went over the bulwarks. As I see it I would have been suspended upside down with my head underwater with my legs at 90 degrees to my body ( head at 6 o'clock, legs at 3o'clock) effectively trapping me in a prime drowning position. As those who have read the update know, plus the fact that I'm still writing is a bit of a give away, I simple fell off the boat and with two pieces of luck came back on board.

Well the conclusion I draw from this is not that wearing a harness is bad for your health but simply that there are no hard and fast rules. People fall over board and are drowned wearing life belts and or harnesses. People are saved because they have been wearing life belts or harnesss. Neither is right or wrong, it's just a choice. Hopefully you make the right one.

Old guys rule...

We've recently stripped down, and put back together, our wonderful Simpson Lawrence windlass, a SL500 model no less and believed to date from the early 50's. It's a massively solid and comforting piece of kit with a cast iron case, two speeds, three pawls and five grease nipples. The handle we use to operate it is about a metre long and raises the chain on both the push and pull strokes. We've never bothered with the low gear, have no idea how many feet per minute we raise but love its simplicity, ruggedness and lack of frills.

Ahead of the windlass can be seen the swivel we inserted into the system to try to get the anchor to come up toward the roller in the correct orientation. Doesn't always work and we may not keep it there but you can see, in the photo below, that the swivel is NOT attached directly to the anchor. I've lost count of the number of boats I've seen where swivels are attached in that way; despite the numerous accounts of the damage done to the swivel when an anchor, buried deep or caught on a rock is unable to move sideways and the forces splay the swivel side walls. We use a short length of 12mm (1/2")chain to connect the swivel to the anchor.

We had an "altercation" with someone on line recently who accused us of being massively over the top in terms of the weight of anchor (33kg) we use for the size of boat. Well perhaps in his terms we are; but then, unlike him, we don't have the safety net of a home - Hannah represents everything we own and the only insurance we have is for 3rd Party i.e. if we wreck your boat our insurance will cover your damage but ours is down to us. On top of this of course, Hannah is very heavy, not because she is a ferro hull but simply because this is our home and we live aboard on a full time basis. The 700 books (no exaggeration) 1,000+ paper charts, cast iron wood stove and all the provisions etc add up to a lot of weight. Although our fuel tank is small at 60 litres we carry an additional 180 litres or so in jerry cans. Likewise water. I do remember when we were last pulled out in the UK, we'd stripped the boat of most things, no books or charts for instance and both masts, booms, gaffs and all sails had been removed and we still weighed over 16 ton (35,000lbs or well over 16000 kgs) Add to all that weight the windage of two masts, served rigging, baggy wrinkles and 1500 feet of running rigging and Hannah adds up to a wonderful target for wind and waves when we're at anchor. So we use what we feel is the best insurance possible - a heavy anchor with a rock solid manual windlass. It may not appeal to everyone and, it seems, nothing brings forth the arm chair pundits as much as anchoring threads on forums but this works for us.

Wintering in Greenland...but not us

In early August of last year we began to make preparations to leave Greenland and work our way south. A week or so later a 35' Wylo called Iron Bark made its way into Disko Bay and began searching around for winter quarters..... Trevor Robertson and 'Barky, as he calls his boat, were looking to embark on their third winter in the ice. Once in Antarctica and once, with Annie Hill, in the Arctic.

It came to mind recently as the daylight hours here are becoming noticeably longer, yesterday we had our first sprinkling of snow and I got to wondering how Trevor was getting on. Of course nobody knows as communication is non existent and even Annie is not sure where he decided to winter - the only clue may be that as a last resort he could always use the same anchorage they used in 2004/05.

So he is, based on the lat/long of the last anchorage they used (72 30.9N 54 58.6 W) at the moment still experiencing zero sunlight and probably won't see the sun until Jan 31st. Think about that. It is not something I would want to do (although Bee finds the idea appealing) and with a wood burner as our heat source it is never likely to happen but Annie's account of their Arctic time can be seen here whilst Trevor's account of his time in Antarctica can be seen here

When we begin to head north toward Iceland in late May, Trevor is likely still to be frozen in......

mbt
Portsmouth, Virginia

Memories

 It's a quiet time here as winter kicks in, we revise our plans about heading south and think more about this summers trip. With the wood burner keeping the chill out of the boat and little to write about we offer these great shots from the camera of Russ Nichols, taken during 2011

Pity about the line over the side...

A brief winter run north

As part of our journey south we had wanted to call in on Russ and Alison, our great cruising companions in last years jaunt to northern Labrador. They'd become good friends over that summer and we decided to head north (in winter!) to catch up with their refit and plans for next year. The day of departure came with zero wind and thick fog...the duvet beckoned and we went back to bed. The following day, Sunday, came bright and cheerful with a decent southerly wind we began to get ready to leave. This time the engine refused to start and the fault was traced it to a dead starter battery which had, incidentally, started without a problem two days previously. Much to-ing and fro-ing but in the end we had no option but to dip into our rapidly dwindling funds for a starter battery and departure was delayed another day. So Monday Dec 10 saw us underway and heading north with a southerly breeze but with the knowledge that the wind would veer to the north long before we arrived in Annapolis. We sailed through the night, steering by hand as we were too over canvassed for the wind-vane to cope properly(we were trying to get as far north as possible with a favourable wind), but the cold meant we limited steering to 30 minutes at a time and grabbed quick naps when not helming. By 6 the following morning the wind had gone NW and headed us but at least the self steerer could function. We dumped the genny in favour of the working jib and stays'l and beat our way slowly northwards. By mid-day the wind had begun to ease and by 4 we decided to motor the 4 miles toward Soloman and anchor for the night.  A wise choice as the night turned cold but the anchorage was calm and protected. We'd sailed 147 miles to make good a distance 100. The final third (50 miles) we would complete the next day.

Wed 12 Dec. We left around 08:30 and beat our way past Drum Point and entered the narrow part of  Chesapeake Bay. Tack followed tack as we slowly made ground. The speeds were reasonable; 4 to 5 knots but adverse current played havoc with the angles and we sometimes moved forward only 1/2 mile despite having sailed 4 or more miles. The bay was busy with ships and tugs heading north or south, occasionally with yachts, under power, heading south. "Stan" the steerer kept us on track and the crew would appear together on deck only to tack before disappearing below out of the cold. In these circumstances keeping watch meant taking a good look around before ducking below where the oil lamp at least created some warmth. Most of the traffic came up on the AIS, some of the fishing boats didn't but we were far enough away for us not to be involved in their waters. Not so the tugs however. We've never had a problem with these guys before and a radio call on 16 or 13, the working channel, quickly clears up any concerns we or they might have. On this night however one tug wouldn't respond on 13 but did on 16 whilst some hours later the "Chesapeake Coast" ignored calls on either channel. It was a dark night with little light from the moon and we were closing rapidly. We had no intention of standing on but wanted to warn the oncoming tug of our intention....not to be so we simply tacked away and left him to it. He then chose to respond calling Hannah on 13. Seems he heard our call clearly enough to note the vessels name but lacked the manners/seamanship to respond. His waffle included the information that we produced a poor radar image,it was a dark night and we needed to be careful but no indication on why he had chosen to ignore our calls. Somehow came away from this exchange with the feeling that some individuals allow their contempt of people on yachts to transcend their professional calling. We carried on beating our way toward the glow of Annapolis and the succession of anchored ships in the roadstead. The sun came up; by 10 we were approaching Back Creek where Andante was getting a paint job and by 10:30 we were anchored opposite the water tower and ready to sleep. 26 hours and 111 miles of beating to make good 50..... a tough day.

So we've been here a week, helping with some of the refit, spending time with good friends and moved across to Mill Creek with them a few days ago. We had intended to head south today but stiff westerlies and a rain ladened sky persuaded me that tomorrow might be a kinder day. The westerlies are good although we could do without the accompanying 40 knot gusts - it'll be a cold trip for sure.

Monday Dec 24

Mill Creek was a winner! Very well sheltered with banks and tall trees overlooking placid, if a tad, shallow water. A last few days with R&A plus their nephew Will whilst we geared up for the journey back. Friday and Sat. looked to be good with stiff W-NW winds.....gusts between 40 and 50 knots. In the end I opted not to leave Friday as the day promised little sun or something equally as pathetic; in hindsight a mistake. That day the water was very high whereas Sat. gave us about a metre less and this wonderful creek is protected by a bar. We crossed the bar on our inward leg with a scant 25 cm under the keel so we were both somewhat nervous about our exit. Sat. came with gusts whipping across the water and we reefed well before leaving. We'd decided on a reefed mizzen plus stays'l and spitfire jib but motored slowly out of the creek and safely across the bar. Outside the water was far more agitated than it had been inside but we raised sail and took off. By the time we cleared the land the water had become a mass of white although the waves remained less than a metre so conditions were almost perfect, a stiff wind just abaft the beam. The gusts were not, we think, 50 knots, but possibly over 40 knots and at one point we both wondered whether we had made the correct choice in leaving..... but we cracked on, rarely going below 7 knots, sometimes over 8 and Drum Point just 5 miles from where we anchored when heading north was passed seven hours after we slipped our lines. If there was a downside it is only having one reef in the mizzen as Hannah carried a fair bit of weather helm which required a human to steer but the sun shone, most of the water remained in the  sea rather than smashing into the hull and soaking us. We did wonder to each other why we hadn't used the trys'l rather than the mizzen as "Stan" would, no doubt, have steered but as we were comfortable, the boat stable without excessive rolling so we kept on. The forecast called for the wind to ease as we went further south down the Bay and then turn to the SW by evening. In the end the wind began to ease about 5am and became very light, giving speeds around 1-2 knots and then switched to the south. We changed sails, began beating and used the motor to boost speed. The familiar sight of Hampton Roads became visible as we continued, traffic became more frequent but we made it down the river and to our slip that Cary so generously lets us use. A quick call to the Customs and Border to notify them we'd changed anchorages, food, a glass of something and then bed. Result! As Bee would say. 



So another year comes to an end and a further 6500 miles or so sailed, an average year I guess. Thanks to all the folks we've met, the kindnesses received and the readers who come across these pages. This is, we think, our last year we'll spend exploring the northern latitudes for some time as we go in search of new old friends and cultures. Have a safe and peaceful year ahead.

Lastly......the Newtown shooting of 20 kids and 7 adults has been and continues to be an unbearable experience. The "debate" over here continues; guns are to blame; people are to blame; mental health needs be a much higher priority. Well we're firmly on the side of no guns, which isn't to say that mental health care needs drastically improving but why any person needs a semi-automatic military style weapon for their own use is incomprehensible. Why the gunman's mother insisted on having guns in the house, where an, apparently, mentally ill young man lived, because she could....and the NRA arguing that schools need to have armed guards posted in order to protect.......

If ever "the lunatics have taken over the asylum" tag was deserved by any group of people it must surely be them. Sad, sad times

Pirates, Drugs and other hazards....

 The last two weeks have been steady as we sorted out the few problems areas we had and talked about where we might go next. Still no decision on that yet and we probably won't decide until we get there; one way of placating folks who worry we might be overdue...

With this quiet time there has also been the opportunity to think about some of the things we've come across and some of the questions we often asked. Not surprisingly the same or similar questions arise no matter where we are. Well I should qualify that as we've spent the last 4 or 5 years over this side of the water so the questions possibly reflect "national" concerns.

Health: So many folks ask what we do we do about health insurance...the simple answer is nothing. We lead a fairly healthy life-style and rarely get sick. If we do then we'll deal with it then. I'm not sure it's healthy to lead your life expecting the worst to happen, spending huge sums of money in the hope you never have to use it (insurance) or postponing retirement because a reduction in income will mean you're unable to live the consumer orientated life you've become accustomed to. Does it matter? Will those last few moments of consciousness be spent fondly remembering the huge plasma screen and surround sound you bought on credit back in nineteen nought blonk. (and the disappointment when you realised that a huge tv with mega pixels or whatever they are doesn't actually improve the quality of the programme only the picture) Life is short - get out there and live it. We have seen so many folks quoting and agreeing with Sterling Hayden whilst being unable to motivate themselves enough to take the first step. Of course not everybody wants to get out there and live this sort of life but if you do, if the thought crosses your mind and you wonder......
Incidentally this link will take you to background stuff about the man.

Drugs: To be honest drugs are not something we're concerned or even interested in so when we read of drug barons, epidemics and worse it sort of washes over us, rightly or wrongly. But we were once anchored in an idyllic part of the world. The anchorage offered good protection, the houses surrounding the "harbour" looked neat and well cared for. The sun shone over a backdrop of mountains and glistening water and it felt a great place to be. But then we learned of the drugs that had affected so many folks here and in other parts of this area, the devastation they were causing, families breaking up, businesses ruined and we were at a loss.....How could this be? How could something we sort of associated with inner cities and deprivation be so commonplace in a community that had around 1000 inhabitants, had employment and a reasonable standard of living; in short the aspirations of many small communities around the world? We have no idea but I do know we sat on Hannah that evening and looked around the harbour with enormous sadness. Something felt changed, perhaps the "world" had caught up with us?

Pirates. This is asked so many times by folks in this country and is, perhaps, indicative of the "everybody hates us " mentality that exists. No we have never met any pirates although I sometimes glibly reply that "we did once but they were running a marina in Florida...". It came to mind the other week when someone I had just met, hesitatingly said "I shouldn't probably ask this but have you ever met etc" A few days later I came across a blog and was really impressed with the guys response to an alarmist report published by Noonsite, a cruising website. Sure pirates exist but not as much as some fevered imaginations would have you believe. Sailing at night can be alarming, particularly when you're among fishing boats but there are reactions and there is stupidity. Read the article by David here. There is also a link within the article to the original report. And we won't even get into the  nonsense of cruising boats carrying weapons.

On a less fevered note the rice and raisin wine we started 14 days or so ago had reached the point where it needed to be racked off. It had sat gently fermenting in a plastic barrel, stirred once a day for a fortnight and then poured into another container (in our case our cool box aka wood store/bottle store/footrest), and the raisins etc pressed to get as much juice as possible out. The original is then cleaned out and the liquid all poured back in to begin clearing before consumption can begin early next year. The  beetroot takes longer, possibly 3 or 4 months to become dry enough to be enjoyable. By which time we hope to be somewhere where rum is cheap.

In the meantime we'll carry on with our chores - this week we dug out our 100 year old manual Singer. What a joy to use even if has but one stitch, no reverse and would struggle with the width of our sail though not, I think, with the cloth thickness. It is difficult to accept the way goods are disposed of now as technology moves so quickly that repairs are uneconomical when this machine functions so well in its limited fashion. Progress will always move humans forward I guess...

 Lastly. In an effort to combat the belief that this life can only be done in a large, expensive boat I'd urge you to take a look at the following blogs.

Roger Taylor Sails a junk rigged Corribee . He once sailed single-handed to Greenland only to break a rib before he completed his outward leg. He turned around and sailed back to the UK. His journey's rarely, if ever, involve landing on a foreign shore.....but he has a wealth of experience.

Sumara of Falmouth. A 25' Vertue and recent recipient of the Tilman Medal for a journey to the Jan Mayen Islands and subsequent mountain climb. Well  written and funny.

Speedwell of Hong Kong. The only one of this "group" we have met, Shirley singlehands a junk -rigged Vertue. We met her about 5 years ago prior to her crossing to Brazil from the Canaries where, by and large, she has been ever since. A remarkable woman and her cat Sinbad keep an entertaining blog as part of their website and make us want to go to Brazil!

Eileen of Avoca - he of the pirate reply I wrote about a few paragraphs ago. David sails a 23' Yarmouth Gaff cutter, a neat looking boat. I'm still catching up with his blog so can tell you little about him. Go read all of these folks and if you're still thinking about that 45 footer.....consider this. It isn't that long ago that folks sailed these sort of boats round the world, they were the norm. The advent of roller furling and electric winches "enable" 2 people to handle very large boats without the need of additional crew but at huge cost but not necessarily more fun.

Still moving south

We left Vineyard Haven for Newport and, after an undisturbed night sleep, hauled the anchor up and set sail for what we hoped would be the Delaware Bay and a visit with Russ and Alison, friends from the 2011 trip to Labrador. The day started with a fast hour or so, became lumpy at the entrance to Narraganset Bay and then settled into a rhythm as we headed toward and past Block Island. The NE wind blew steadily and progress was rapid if quiet; rarely have we managed to cross this section of water without a constant background chatter of fishing boats/tugs etc warning other vessels of their intentions but it was a welcome change. The journey from this area to the mid section of the US involves crossing numerous shipping lanes; 3 for New York alone and traffic was reasonably heavy. The AIS, as ever, made life easier, particularly in the dark when judging distance is generally more difficult...but our first problem came from a fishing boat that Bee had seen well off to port. Initially all we could establish was that it was incredibly well lit up but, because of the brightness and distance away, no direction of travel could be determined. After what seemed an age a faint green light could be seen and we knew then it was traveling in our general direction....our courses closed and too late we realised that far from moving slowly this dredger was steaming, dragging whatever it drags and showing no inclination to slow down. Because of the wind direction and the tack we were on we had little option but to bear away slightly, increase speed a little (we were already running at 7knots +) and cross his bow about 150 feet ahead. Nothing was heard on the radio and doubts began to set in. When we'd put sufficient distance between us we checked to see whether he could hear us. No response and no response either to a general call for a "radio check" Hmmmm. The rest of the night proved quiet but the following day off the third of the three traffic lanes that enter and leave New York we ran into our second issue. Daylight this time and we watched visually and on AIS, a large Chinese container ship move slowly away from NY and toward us. They were steaming at 10 knots or so, we were sailing at 5 or 6. They slowly closed the gap between us and it looked as though our course would converge. Because of the seas and wind direction we had our boom with a preventer on and whilst gybing might be a last resort it would require a lot of prep work before we could do so. We stood on. The gap closed and narrowed. At a point we judged that we could pass astern of the ship we rounded up and sort of hove to. I say "sort of" as we were still moving through the water at 2 knots and now moving closer to them. The ship altered course away from us by 10 degrees and once we were both clear of each other our normal courses were resumed. We had tried calling the ship but had no response and had no idea whether they had tried calling us. Not being able to communicate made life very tense for a few minutes and I began to feel concern about going through the Delaware Canal with no means of communication. As it happened the weather forecast came in and warned that the winds were fading and backing to the north which would leave us with a possible beat up the Delaware Bay or an easy sail down to Chesapeake and then across to Portsmouth. We opted to head on south but in the end it wasn't that easy as we approached Cape Charles in the dark and rain but with the tide flooding into the Bay. The effect of wind over tide over shallow water produces square, lumpy seas and with 5 miles to go before we cleared the bridge/tunnel system we opted to motor sail our way through the things. Water poured over the deck as the bowsprit buried itself in the solid mass of water we were running into. I watched as several inches of water ran along the deck and over the Air Only Vent vent we'd fitted. Having suffered for years with water dripping through various vents we're still over the moon that this vent does exactly what it says. No water drips or leaks below from it, the ventilation is excellent and, when the pension kicks in next year, we intend to fit several more.

By 11:30 we were tied up at the dock some 73 hours after we hauled up the anchor in Newport. We'll stay here for a few weeks, have already started our winter batch of home-brew (5 litres of beetroot and 25 litres of rice and raisin) and the inevitable job list that accompanies a boat. The plan is still to go south...after the last 2 summer cruises to the north and a winter spent in Maine we're ready for some sun......oh alright and some cheap rum!

Some months ago we wrote about giving up on the Taylor's cooker and replacing it with a single "primus" type burner. The reasons were numerous, not least, the horrendous price of spares from Taylor's and their, apparent, indifference to emails from long term customers - we'd been using the unit since 2000. The primus was/is great but we needed to find a way to gimbal it. 

 As luck would have it we found a second hand "Atom" unit in Maine before we left on the Greenland trip and I have to say it has been a winner. The unit is well made and we've been able to cook irrespective of conditions. Bee continues to turn out a loaf every other day using a cast iron dutch oven and we have had few problems. It is noisy but even that has its advantages  - drowns out the noise of vile weather and wind up top;  unlike the Taylors with its 6 litre fuel tank the primus holds less than a litre so it really requires filling on a daily basis. But over and above its effectiveness has been the response of the guy who designed the gimbal unit and sells them from here. Knowledgeable, efficient and helpful. Each time we've contacted him he has responded quickly (a major plus when you're often on the move). He also recognises that you may well have the skills to build your own unit so displays on his site a helpful diagram with measurements. Kero is such a sensible fuel for a cruiser and this is a simple, neat alternative to a Taylor's too.

VHF. We seemed to have sorted out our vhf silence. Cary's boat is in the slip next to us and we were able to swap radios around and establish the fault lay with the connection or aerial. Turns out to be a loose connection between aerial and cable and it has been judiciously tightened and taped. 

Money on ground tackle...

We woke to the sound of the anchor alarm going off. Not, in this instance, a warning we had dragged but letting us know we'd stretched out and possibly veered from our original position. That was at 5am yesterday morning, Wed 7th, some 32 hours ago and the storm has raged since. The first 24 hours were fine but as  the wind continued the seas followed suit and built up. The fetch inside was small but the entrance, barely visible, had white water everywhere. The sound of seas breaking on the northern side of the island, at times, drowned out the wind. By the late afternoon the wind had backed from NE to NNW which gave us a little more room astern but also created a confused sea tendency within the anchorage. The wind continued howling. The local radio informed us that the gusts on Martha's Vineyard, less than 10 miles away, had been clocked at 61mph and all local ferry traffic was suspended.   The NOAA site informed us that some 30 miles to the west of us the weather/navigation  buoy recorded 52 knots...whatever it was probably the longest period of foul weather we had at anchor since the week we sat in Newtown Creek, IOW as day after day the English Channel struggled under a Force 11. And we knew it was bad outside when the anchorage gradually saw more and more gulls "at anchor"; resting quietly until their lives might improve.

By the morning of Sat Nov 9th our life had improved beyond measure. For a start the wind had died down and the anchorage was flat calm. But the rain and gloom of the last few days had been replaced with a glorious sunshine. The natural harbour is part of a succession of islands that were, or may still be, owned by the Forbes family apparently. A couple of very large houses could be seen, sheep and a llama were the only real activity. A ferry runs between the harbour and Woods Hole, a  fishing boat came in prior to the storm but other than that we had had the place to ourselves. With a single day of northerlies left we opted to visit Vineyard Haven on Martha's, catch up with friends and await the next batch of favourable winds due in 3 days. Getting the wonderful Rocna anchor up gave us a struggle; convincing me at one point that we must be foul on something. Bee, who handles all the fore deck work, disagreed saying it felt different to a foul..... We secured the chain to protect the windless and tried to motor it out with little impact. Bee wanted more power so that's what we did and although the bow dipped ( in respect to the might of the anchor perhaps) it did break free. Thick, gloopy mud clung to the chain as we laboriously hurled buckets of sea-water over it. Eventually we were able to see the anchor  rising to the surface with a large amount of glutinous mud attached. We had, briefly, thought about setting two anchors in tandem as the anchorage was tight. However as we had anchored once already and then decided to shift position we knew the mud was good and simply added a second line to back up our existing rode using  two rolling hitches to secure it to the chain.We bought this 33kg (73lb) Rocna back in 2006 and have never regretted it. At the time they were new to the market but its design and holding power means we are able to sleep easy at night. Anchors may not have the same sex appeal as all singing all dancing chart plotters and water makers but, to us, they are far more important.  Everything back on board and stowed we motored clear, raised the main and stays'l and set off with a favourable current through the narrows at Woods Hole toward Vineyard Haven. The wind blew gently, the sun shone, sea sparkled and all was well in our world. Next stop, we hope, will be several hundred miles south of here.