Fairwinds 2005

Day 18 - Kirkwall - Shapinsay 5 miles

Weather still very unprepossessing - strong gusty North to North-Westerly wind making going anywhere from Kirkwall remarkably difficult. I went up the town for rolls and bought Kathy a new fishing reel. We hung about the boat doing not very much, feeling very indecisive.

About half past twelve a Scanyacht 39 roared up into our corner of the marina and was unhappy to find us tied across to the opposite finger (we had been invited to do so by marina staff in fact). We moved the line and they roared in and parked beside us. They weren’t unpleasant, but we were now pressed hard on the pontoon and feeling crowded so we decided to head up to Shapinsay. We walked Fairwinds back and the Scanyachters helped us get out by taking a long bow line and swinging her head through the wind. (The narrow beam of the Vega combined with the relatively full stern means using a stern spring gives you very little angle, yet another reason the boat is so difficult to handle in confined spaces).

We got the main up double reefed in the relative shelter of the outer harbour then motorsailed out of Kirkwall with 25 knots or so over the deck. Once we were tidied away I attempted to unroll a sensible working jib-sized genoa. Jut as I thought I’d got it wallop! Out it all comes, and we are careering off rail in the water only marginally under control. (You really do not want a 150% genoa with 28 knots over the deck). To add to the fun there was a riding turn on the winch. We bore away onto a broad reach to let the main blanket the genoa; once it collapsed I could get the riding turn off, wind the sail in and try again. We had an exact repeat performance, but this time the riding turn was worse. I knew what was causing it - the car was well forwards, in the right position for the sze of headsail, but creating too shallow an angle onto the winch. Knowing what had caused it did not help however as we hurtled towards the shore at seven knots barely under control, beariung away to get the genoa to collapse so I could manhandle the sheet off the winch.. This time I had had enough and we rolled it away and resumed motorsailing under main only for the tme being.

(I had discussed this with Geordie - Orion21- and he had said that he found the only reliable way to do it was to let all the genoa out first then roll some in - a procedure that is less than ideal in strong winds, particularly if there isn’t much room to bear away. I intend to discuss this at some length with Sailspar when I am back in the office as the problem seems to be getting worse).

We whistled through the channel inside Thieves’ Holm (sailing harmlessly right over the 2m patch according to the depth sounder, which went down to 3.5m below the keel at one point) then bore away, unrolled the full genoa and rolled in the correct amount for the conditions. Still had to wrestle another riding turn off the winch as I hadn’t moved the car. Now we could bear away reach across the tide in the String, beam reaching at over seven knots at an angle of forty-five degrees to our heading.

Heading in to Shapinsay we decided to go into the pier rather than pick up a visitor’s mooring (of which there were two). The approach to the pier looked straightforward and sheltered, so we fendered up with four fenders out, intending to blow up the big fender once we were settled. The approach was perfect, Kathy got a rope round the ladder and I applied a little reverse then BANG! - the stern suddenly swung in, clouted a barnacle-encrusted metal piling and scraped backwards with a horrible barnacly grinding noise. Nothing further untoward happened, and we got secured with no further incident. The damage was cosmetic - and to my pride of course. Still not sure what happened, but the Shapinsay ferry was backing out from the pier at the time, and we think it was the wash from this coupled with the propwalk when I went astern that did the damage.

It took an hour or so and a can of beer before I calmed down enough to let this one go. Another hour or so was spent fiddling with lines and fenders, while I reflected that if we had taken a mooring we could have had the dinghy blown up and been ashore by now with the boat unscratched and safe. Eventually I stopped brooding, decided we were safely moored and we went ashore. It was still a dull, overall grey with a temperature that I swear wasn’t into double figures. An old lady stood at her cottage door as we walked down the village street.

"This isn’t Summer", she remarked as we walked past.

We were not inspired to go very far - Shapinsay didn’t seem very interesting in this weather. We stopped at the shop on the way back and bought a few provisions. The shopkeeper was also the Shapinsay harbour master, so we checked that we were OK where we were. We also found out that what we had thought was a disused gatehouse for Balfour Castle was in fact a pub, which cheered me up a bit.

While Kathy cooked I planned a possible passage to Stronsay - assuming the wind didn’t go more Northerly and dropped off a bit it looked feasible. We had steak for tea - allegedly Orkney beef, it was tough and uninspiring and neither of us ate more than half. We vowed that we would only eat meat from Mr. Flett, the Stromness butcher, from now on. The Gatehouse was now obviously open, the participants in a football match that had been taking place earlier having repaired there. A fast RIB came into the pier and three guys in foul weather gear headed up the twee turreted steps towards this unlikely hostelry. We followed, only to find them on the steps outside smoking fags. I asked if it was too warm for them indoors, and they said it was too crowded but would be emptier soon. Apparently they were the transport back to Kirkwall for the visiting team.

Inside the place was jumping. It was a strange narrow building, never designed for its current role but strategically converted into the most interesting pub we had seen in Orkney so far. We were the oldest people there - it was full of footballers eating sandwiches and downing pints, although the call for the first boatload back to Kirkwall had already started to empty the place.

We had an enjoyable two or three pints while people-watching before repairing to the boat. It was now high water, and we could easily step aboard rather than face the weedy embarnacled ladder - probably a greater hazard to the returning reveller than the average dinghy trip.

Top blogging..

10:10 PM, Jul. 26, 2005 .. Posted by Silkie

.. in general and this entry in particular. Your entries describing (in two sentences) how you and Kathy knocked off 60M on the wind don't have the same resonance with my own sailing as the descriptions of the genny escaping (twice!) with 28 kts over the deck, mooring disasters and unusual pubs! Stirring prose.

Dave