Ameera

Going Home

I've waited a long time to write this entry, too long.

Last year I moved to the Isle of Man. Lock, stock & barrel - except for Ameera who languished lonely in Fleetwood. I visited her occasionally when "across" in the UK, but a conspiracy of work, weather and housebuying prevented me from moving her across to the island.

The day finally came, yesterday. The forecast was for F3 - F4, sea state slight to moderate, and the plan was that I would fly to Blackpool, meet up with Seedog (Doug) at Fleetwood, and we would sail across catching the high tide at 9AM, to be in Douglas in time to enjoy an evening meal together.

That was the plan. It soon started to unravel. I landed on time at Blackpool (8AM), and phoned Doug who was travelling to Blackpool by train. His train was stationary, stuck behind a broken-down goods train awaiting the arrival of assistance. So I should carry on to Fleetwood and sort the boat while Doug caught up.

Fair enough, so at Blackpool "International" Airport I waited for a Taxi. And waited. And waited. And xxxxxxx waited. After 50 minutes I finally got one, meaning that at the planned time of sailing I was being driven slowly up the Blackpool promenade into Cleveleys where the ferry Riverdance was clearly visible lying sad and forlorn on her side. Speaking to Doug he was still stuck on the train.

I eventually arrived at Fleetwood, dumped my kit on Ameera, and went to have a last coffee with Pete, the marina manager, while paying my outstanding dues. Doug was making progress and should alight at Blackpool soon. Then onto Asda to buy supplies (sarnies, beer and water), before returning to Ameera to get her ready. I had checked with the marina and learned that the lock gates would be closed at 10:50.

At 10:40 Doug arrived, and I let him into the marina compound then went off to the office to return my keys. We hurriedly slipped out, and passed through the lock with a couple of minutes to spare, unprepared and hassled. Catching our breath we motored up the Fleetwood channel out to Lune Deep before raising sail.

Motoring was slow. Months of neglect showed. Ameera's bottom was filthy, weed-covered, and far from hydrodynamic. Top whack - 5 knots speed over ground with tidal assistance. With the sails up the picture looked brighter and we started cruising effortlessly at 6.5 knots on sail and motor. Perhaps, having left almost 2 hours late we could recover some ground and make up some of our schedule.

Then the wind died.With sails flapping listlessly we were reduced to 4.5 knots. This was evidently destined to be a slow trip. But we were on our way, on the water, and finally taking Ameera home.

Leaving England behind.

Passing the Barrow in Furness windfarm

We may have been making slow progress and praying for a breeze, but at least the weather was good. Doug and I turned browner in the unremitting sunshine, alternating logging progress and checking the boat in some unspoken contract.

We saw the Ben My Chree three times, outbound to Heysham, returning to Douglas, and finally outbound again...

We passed the many platforms in this area of the Irish Sea

We saw a bit of wildlife - a seal, a dolphin, and assorted birds. Either too far away for the camera, or I was not quick enough! And the miles ground past. Ever so slowly, speed dropping to 4 knots as the tide turned against us, with the engine chugging away.

A moment's drama three quarters of the way across, when the engine spluttered. I hurredly refilled the diesel tank from the spare jerry can we were carrying. Another consequence of the weed, Ameeera was consuming more than twice the amount of fuel that I had expected.

As we closed on the island the sun was setting, and I was desperately hoping that we would make it before dark so that I could see my way into Douglas harbour.

Sailing into the sunset !

We had a glorious sunset, but we didn't make it in time before the light died. At 21:05 I called Douglas Harbour Control to request permission to enter - with 2 miles remaining we had an ETA of 20 minutes. We were told that our ETA coincided with that of the Viking, the Douglas - Liverpool high-speed ferry operated by the Isle of Man Steam Packet, so we would have to hang around in Douglas bay and let the ferry in first.

We did, with Doug stuggling to take down the sails while I helmed us through the wash of the Viking. She doesn't slow until the last moment before turning for her approach into the harbour, so she had entered the bay at close to 30 knots, and while a safe distance away (we had spoken with her while she approached and adjusted our course northwards to give her more room) her wash was still rather bouncy!

With Viking berthed we were allowed into Douglas harbour, but by now it was dark. Too dark to see the entrance, so we cautiously fumbled our way in before Harbour Control raised the swing bridge for us to pass into the refuge of the inner harbour. We tied up at 10PM, having taken 11 hours to make a 55 mile crossing, and tidied Ameera before catching a taxi to our beds.

Following a brief night's sleep I collected Doug from the hotel this morning to return him to Douglas in time for hime to catch the ferry back to the UK. Ameera sat serenely to the left of the swing bridge looking quite at home.

Thanks Doug. Great crossing. Shame about the wind and dinner, but you must come back to Mann and we'll have another go.

1:33 PM - May. 3, 2008 - comments {0} - post comment

Mrs. Craggy's Big Day Out

Lots of the previous entries in this blog refer to me sailing single handed. There is a reason for this, I am an antisocial git. Actually I would happily take my partner out, but she doesn't like sailing, or so she said. Put off at a very early age as a small child, when caught in a storm in the Irish Sea while out with her parents on their friends yacht, it is easy to understand why. Being tossed around in a small boat with no sail up because the wind is too strong, and no motor because it failed to start when the storm blew up, is not the recommended way to ease a newcomer into the joys of being afloat. So Mrs. Craggy does not come sailing with me. Until today. Quite why I don't know, but she has decided that she wants to come out and see what it's like. I think she's basically jealous of my mistress, but whatever, she has invited herself. On condition.

On condition that I take a more experienced sailor out with us as well, Mrs. Craggy knows I am a novice at this sailing lark, and while I may kill myself by falling overboard while out solo, she does not intend to go the same way. So I emailed Doug. Doug is much more experienced than me, so he will be able to cope when things go keel up. Anyway, Doug agrees to come out with us, so come the appointed day we meet up and trek along the four motorways that form the link from home to Fleetwood. Approaching Fleetwood we stop at Morrisons, as has become the norm, to pick up refreshments. Mrs. Craggy gets the sandwiches, Doug buys the beer; Special Offer, 8 bottles for a tenner, so we have 8 bottles of high quality beverage between us. The government has just passed some new law about drink-boating, the effect on sales figures has obviously driven Ken Morrison to desperate measures.

I had anxiously monitored the weather forecast over the preceding days, as it varied between OK, quite good, and fierce. When we arose this morning it had changed again, to very light airs, still we would get whatever we got.

We had decided to "Lock Out" - Fleetwood provides one lock-out an hour before the dock gates normally open, and a lock-in an hour after the gates close, thus extending the single tide sailing window by a couple of hours. I have not locked out of Fleetwood before. Traffic had delayed us, and we prepped the boat in a rush. I made a hash of getting out of the berth. I tried a new method, it worked in principle but needs more practice, and saw us doing a seven-point turn to get out. Nothing bashed.

Delayed by my faffing, we squeaked into the lock at the last moment, last in. Both sides were largely occupied, there was a space we could take, near the front, but manouevering into it proved too much for me so another boat took pity on us and generously allowed us to raft. Exiting the lock we motored up the channel out of the marina with half a metre of mud showing each side, and decided to get out of the channel altogether and into Lune Deep before raising sail. The wind was blustery and we didn't fancy burying the keel in mud.

Reaching the end of the Fleetwood channel it was still gusty, so Doug and I decided a reef would be appropriate. Doug helmed, I hoisted. The mainsail went up very easily, by hand. It became apparent that a lot of the grief experienced previously is more due to friction in the winch than the track. Anyway, I winched the mainsail taut, hoisted the (no. 2) jib, and Doug pointed us off towards Heysham to catch the wind. It died. We were nicely reefed, making under a knot, with barely enough air to fill the sails. I shook out the reef, and we pottered along past the mouth of the Lune at a gentle two knots(-ish), no heeling, no hassle, no gusts, all the early bluster of the air had evaporated. I thought about replacing the jib with the genoa, but it was too much hassle, so we opened our sandwiches & beer. Doug thought our progress was ideal for trolling, so I handed him a fishing line which he let out over the stern.

Mrs. Craggy seemed quite calm about this sailing lark, I don't know if the beer helped, but we floated along gently, chatting away, until it seemed like a good idea to turn back.

Despite the light air and lack of canvas we seemed to have made good progress. As we turned away from it we realised that we had got much closer to Heysham power station that we had expected, and speculated that we had benefitted from the tide. I dug out the tidal atlas in the almanac, but that showed the tide pushing us in to the south of the bay, so we'd obviously made our progress under our own steam. Out came our GPS's to check speed over ground, and sure enough we were making somewhere between 1.5 and 2.5 knots in something around 4 - 5 knots of wind. Very gentle sailing, from my point of view the best possible introduction for Mrs. Craggy. It can be exciting having the toerails in the water, but probably not ideal for a nervous novice.

The beer was excellent, Doug, a connoisseur, had again made fine choices.

Being Skipper and driver I only had the one, the "Whitstable Bay" by Shepherd Neame. It was excellent, a really clean and crisp bitter. The others seemed to go down rather well too.

A gentle sail back to the old Fleetwood lighthouse marking the head of the channel, during which we pondered the absence of other yachts, there was only one visible, motoring under bare poles. We had left with quite a flotilla, but they must have all retired early; perhaps the light air was just too light for them, but we did OK out of it. Doug recovered the fishing line - what was left of it. The lures and trolling weight had vanished. I was amazed, given our gentle progress I reckon that if we had snagged the line it would have held us at anchor, and a decent sized mackerel could have towed the boat backwards. I shall make the next one out of stronger stuff!

And so back into the marina. Doug gave me the helm as we passed through the lock, preferring to let me park my boat. As with the previous outing, my parking was perfect, and Doug stepped onto the pontoon finger from a stationary boat to secure the warps. At leat Mrs. Craggy was aboard to witness my mooring skills! If only I can learn to leave the berth as smoothly.

10:00 PM - Aug. 5, 2007 - comments {0} - post comment

Summer? What Summer?

I don't mind admitting it, I am a fair weather sailor. Getting soaked by rain or living on the edge with three reefs in and still looking to reduce canvas is not my idea of fun. Exhilirating it may be, and when it comes about so be it, but I am not one who deliberately seeks it out.

So this summer has been a wash-out so far, with relatively few opportunities to get out and enjoy a comfortable breeze with the sun on my face. Ameera has sat lonely and neglected in her berth for too long. The 'improvements' I have wrought are untried, and I am pissed off.

The situation is not helped because my plans are going awry. I had intended to be in a different mooring by now, living in a different house some 15 minutes cycle from the boat, instead of the 90 minute drive I currently have. Having sold the current house to a couple who turned out to be best described as frauds, it is back on the market. Mrs Craggy and I are hosting viewings at the weekends, or preparing the house for viewings, or something else house sale related. We are depressed, and it is not helping me get off my backside and drive the long 70+ miles to Fleetwood.

Ameera deserves better, and so today I finally pulled myself together and went to see her. Conditions were overcast with little wind, not enticing sailing weather, but she needed some exercise, and at least a little motor to top up the batteries, so we went out for a couple of hours in motorboat mode. I made a less than usually embarrassing cock up of getting out of my berth, and I didn't hit anything! As we got out of the dock and into the channel I noticed that the Lifeboat was moored on one of the swinging moorings; a surprise as it is normally berthed right by the Lifeboat Station.

Curious, I motored on by and out up the Fleetwood channel to the old lighthouse. As I did so I came across a large vessel - Sospan, heading into Fleetwood.

A peculiar ship, what with all the pipework on the decks. not a cargo vessel, nor a fishing boat. I had no idea what she might be or why she would be coming into Fleetwood. Anyway, I motored on, and pootled about for a while before motoring back again. This view of the "North Euston Hotel" is becoming quite familiar.

As I turned to port to enter the Fylde estuary the explanations for both the Lifeboat and Sospan became apparent. Sospan is a mud dredger, and she was dredging the basin by the Ro-Ro dock and the Lifeboat Station, shuttling back and forth across the mouth of the estuary with surprising speed and agility. And leaving me with a quandary, how best to pass her while she was crossing repeatedly at speed, when Ameera, in common with most small sailing yachts, does not do high speed sprinting.

I slowed down to observe the Sospan and work this one out, then with careful timing, drove Ameera flat out between the dredger's receding stern and the Ro-Ro dock. Safely past, Ameera and I motored back into the marina, and I popped her into her berth. With perfection, perfect line in, quick burst of power astern, and she stopped by the finger of my pontoon for me to gently step ashore and moor her. Two guys watching from the gantry overlooking my berth didn't have the courtesy to acknowledge my perfect boat handling. Oh well.

So, not a fun day, but a satisfying one. Ameera has been checked over and exercised, and I have learned a little more about the workings of Fleetwood harbour.

9:50 PM - Jul. 15, 2007 - comments {0} - post comment

Denizens of Fleetwood

As recounted previously, the last time I raised Ameera's mainsail nearly resulted in a heart attack, so a couple of weeks ago I tried to do something about it. I made up a bundle of steel wool, attached it to the main halyard, clipped on a light line to pull the halyard back down, and spend half an hour "polishing" the mainsail track by hauling this bundle of steel wool up and down it. Then I finished the job by soaking the bundle in silicone polish and coating the track with it.

Well, today was my chance to find out if it worked. After a morning of chores culminating in Preston, it was only a short drive to Fleetwood, and I arrived to brilliant sunshine and a gentle breeze, just before the dock gates were due to open. A rush of preparation and I was ready to take Ameera out. Again, I cocked up leaving the berth. Not as bad as last time, so getting better. Motored out of the marina, up the channel, turned Ameera's bow to the sea, engaged autopilot, and off we went. What little breeze there was came from directly astern, so I found some clear water, and turned through 180deg to point into the wind while I raised the sail. Hard work. But nothing like as hard as last time, I was able to winch the mainsail up, by myself, without real difficulty.

Turned back into the wind - what wind? Now that I'd got the sail up the wind had died. Oh well, better have lunch....

Badger "First Gold". Now I have never tried Badger beer before, remiss of me perhaps, but I was chatting to a colleague the other day, and she told me about her weekend just past, which she spent down South at her parents house, celebrating her father's 80th birthday. Said father is apparently still working aged 80, he is a brewer - for Badger - so I thought I'd try a bottle. And very nice it was too.

So there I am, gently bobbing along in almost no breeze, when this hooligan yacht overtakes me on the inside, motorsailing without a cone....

The (in)famous Claymore, a regular on the YBW forums, comes sprinting past on his way out to Piel Island for the day. Claymore, a.k.a John, yells "hello", and we have a brief chat as he speeds past. We have chatted in cyberspace often enough, and made tentative arrangements to meet, but it's never happened until now. He seems a pleasant chap, but then most sailors do until you get to know them.....

While Claymore was obviously well crewed, I was on my own, so here's Ameera looking after herself.

Not very tidy, fenders draped everywhere, but I'm only out for a couple of hours, by myself, enjoying the sunshine, so what the hell.

And I'm not the only one, this chap was keeping pace on our starb'd beam, with the washing out. If I were feeling cruel I might have suggested washing the mainsail before hanging it out to dry tho....

And a big cat coming up from astern..

So this is all very nice - bright sunshine, calm sea, gentle breeze.... but the time has come to go about and return to harbour. Easily said, and in such conditions easily done. As I approached the channel to Fleetwood Docks I turned ino the wind to drop the sail, and started the engine. Went up to the mast, pulled the sail down OK, returned to the cockpit, took the autopilot off and opened the throttle.

Vrrmmmm. We're not moving. Vrrrmmm, vrrrrmmmmm. Nope, definitely not going anywhere. Well, drifting on the tide, not stuck, but no motive power. Try power astern instead. Nope. Arrghh. Sudden realisation - the propeller must have fallen off - oh SHIT. 200 yards from the shore, drifting on the tide, not enough wind for really accurate steering even if I put the sail back up - what now skipper?

I'm in hailing distance of the lifeboat station - that is to say I could raise them by shouting, no need for radio. I pick up the handheld VHF, take a deep breath, resign myself to calling for help, and realise that the gear knob is not pushed in... Ameera's gear knob pulls out for "out of gear" and pushes in for "in gear" - the difference between the two positions is less than a quarter of an inch and far from obvious. I push the gear knob in. Ameera surges forward. Prat. At least I realised before calling for help, if only just.

Back in the marina without further embarrassment, I park up reasonably tidily, and wander down the pontoon to admire Newtsville, a 37' Colvic Countess owned by a young man and fellow YBW forumite - Jonny_H. Jonny is aboard, doing work - he has the steering binnacle in pieces - real work, so I introduce myself and we have a chat. He shows me around Newtsville, which he and his wife Kate plan to sail around the world as explained here. Anyway, suffice to say that Newtsville is a glorious boat, absolutely beautiful. Way to big for single-handed day sailing, but a super passage-maker.

And so ends a super day. I have sailed Ameera solo with the washing up for the first time and survived. I'm a happy bunny.

8:45 PM - May. 5, 2007 - comments {0} - post comment

First Time With The Washing Out

Enfin...

Good Friday, a glorious day in prospect according to the weather forecast, and a perfect opportunity to get Ameera out and put the sails up for the first time.

Picked up Doug aiming to be just in comfortable time for the marina gates to open, trundled up the M61 towards the M6, and hit a tailback. It soon became obvious that we wouldn't be getting to the boat before the marina gates closed again at this rate, so engaged sat-nav to find another route. It took us through Preston to dodge the delays and pick up the M55, so we arrived a few minutes later than planned, but just in time.

After a mad rush to get ready we got out of the marina about 5 minutes after the gates opened - hoorah!

Past the ferry berth and into the channel, Doug on the helm, and I start raising the mainsail. This is enough to give me a coronary - the sail snagged several times, the winch took all the strength I had, and for a while we were sailing with a reef which Doug was holding in by hand while I fiddled. Eventually succeeded, mainsail up, foresail up, and it looked like this...

...but I must lubricate the mainsail track. Couldn't have done that single-handed.

Of course we weren't the only ones out...

Who could resist a day like today?

Anyway, onto the other tack...

Doug and I were both stunned. Ameera sails wonderfully, beautifully, fantastically.... Creaming along in 10 - 15 knots of wind, pointing up really close, hardening up at about 20 degrees of heel, in control, amazingly responsive, I'm one very happy bunny. And these are the old cruising sails, the nice new flashy Steve Goacher racing sails are still in my garage.

Saw the Ben-My-Chree sailing out of Heysham bound for the Isle of Man...

We squeaked back into the marina with minutes to spare before the gates closed, tidied up and got on with some serious business..

What more can one ask - a beautiful day, cracking sailing, and top beer. Definitely a good Good Friday.

8:28 PM - Apr. 6, 2007 - comments {0} - post comment

Out and About

Personal time, weather and tide finally coincided today - an opportunity to get out of the marina and calibrate the Autohelm. Seedog, from the YBM forums, contacted me a couple of weeks ago and expressed interest in coming out on Ameera, and as today's plan was to motor out when the marina gate opened, follow Raymarine's calibration instructions, and back into the marina before the gates closed again, it seemed like a good opportunity to meet for the first time without being stuck together on the boat for half a day.

Met Doug (Seedog) near home and drove us up to Fleetwood. On Ameera, which I hadn't seen for a month, I was pleased to find relatively little water in the bilges. Started the engine, expecting difficultly because it hadn't been run since December - it started first time, no hassle, running as sweetly as if I'd only turned it off an hour before.

Left the engine ticking over to run the old fuel through and refresh the batteries, and dug out my old Zodiac tender. Doug kindly volunteered to inflate it, so I nipped back to the car to collect the outboard. This is the life - returned to find dinghy almost ready to go. The starboard air valve was still leaking slightly - what did I expect, it was leaking last year! Into the water it went, and I lifted the outboard in. This is a little 2hp Yamaha 2-stroke, old and pernickety. I expected problems starting it - it hadn't been run for five months and still had last years stale fuel in the tank, but half a dozen pulls on the starter cord and it too was running sweetly - the gods were obviously smiling on me today!

All done then, ready to go. We tied the tender to Ameera's stern and I radioed the dock to ask when the gates would open. No reply - was the new radio working? It was receiving OK. Tried again after a few minutes, success - the gates would open in half an hour. Time for a sandwich. And a beer, looks like Doug has good taste in beer - we stopped off on the way up and bought a couple of bottles of Black Sheep, and a couple of something that I didn't recognise. We didn't get round to the latter, so they're sitting in a locker waiting for next time.

Ready to go. Checked the GPS, 2 satellites and no fix - oh well, looks like I'll have to remake the antenna connection. A sudden mad rush of boats jostling for position to exit the marina, we let them go and cast off, me gingerly taking Ameera off the pontoon for the first time. Hmm, cocked that up, we're pointing the wrong way. Not going to try and turn around here, would only wind up bashing into someone else's pride and joy, so reversed out all the way into the main channel through the docks. Ameera goes quite nicely backwards - far better than I was expecting. Pointing the right way now, we motored out of the marina and into the channel, following the flotilla of other yachts ahead of us as we entered the Wyre estuary, and drove against a couple of knots of tide, past the Stena Leader (Fleetwood - Larne) ferry and out into Morecambe bay, following the channel to the old Fleetwood lighthouse and Lune Deep. The depth sounder is playing up still, all my attempts to improve it have failed, it oscillates seemingly randomly between readings, although observation suggests that the deepest readings it gives are the correct ones, but unconfident of the ground below us we stuck doggedly to the channel while the rest of the flotilla dispersed to port and starboard, sails hoisted and enjoying the gentle breeze.

At the end of the channel it was time to start "work". I hooked up the Autohelm, read the instructions, and throttled right back. We were supposed to motor round in circles at under 2 knots. I checked the speed using the handheld GPS and throttled back further. We were just under 2 knots, but how much was boat speed and how much was tidal drift I couldn't tell. We started motoring round in circles, each circle to take at least 3 minutes, while the Autohelm self-calibrated its fluxgate compass. Amazingly it seemed to work, and after the first circle came up with a reading. As we carried on to do a couple more rotations I looked at the track on the GPS screen, with the tidal drift we were drawing a curly line like a pigs tail in the sea. During all this excitement Doug pointed out a ferry crossing our path, concerned that it would want to come our way as we were still close to the mouth of the channel into Fleetwood. I looked and thought remarkably slowly before realising that the ferry was on a course perpendicular to the channel, and was actually the Ben-My-Chree operated by the Isle of Man Steam Packet Company on its way out from Heysham towards Douglas. No threat to us, but why it was so slow to dawn on me is deeply worrying, it is only just over a week since I was sat on said ferry myself, making the same voyage at the start of a weekend exploring the Isle of Man.

Calibration done, time to actually try this thing out. We straightened up onto a heading and set the pilot. It works. The boat steading to a heading of 032(M), compasses and Autohelm agreed - hands free sailing at last! We motored gently across Morecambe Bay, me playing with my new toy, in a calm sea with glorious sunshine until we realised it was time to head back. Using the autopilot we went about, returned to the channel, and navigated most of the way in on the autopilot until I took over manual control approaching the docks as we came close to the Stena Leader which was preparing to leave. All good so far, the flotilla had reformed around us, and we headed back into the marina, heart in mouth in my case, because I knew what I had to do next.

When I moved Ameera to Fleetwood I gave Andy the helm for the job of taking us in to the marina and getting us onto a pontoon, because he is much more experienced than me. Unknown to either of us the currents in the dock can be quite strong, and we overshot our chosen berth, tried again, failed again, before finally making it in with an excess of power riding the bow high up onto the pontoon and a deep shudder passing through the boat. Given the difficulty Andy had had, I wasn't looking forward to my first attempt at berthing Ameera!

I crept into the marina with the engine barely ticking over, turned around the outer pontoon, and approached our finger. Hard to port on the rudder, and Ameera turned on a sixpence giving me a perfect presentation. A touch of power astern to take off the remaining speed, and Doug jumped onto the pontoon, bow lines in hand, with a fender gently brushing the side - brilliant. A perfect end to a super afternoon, Ameera is finally ready.

6:45 PM - Mar. 24, 2007 - comments {0} - post comment

Ready To Sail

.........I think. I know there's stuff I still have to work out, for instance how I will get on with the fixed topping lift, I've only ever sailed with an adjustable one previously, but I'll give it a try before I "convert" it. I'm still lacking confidence in the depth sounder, but I can't really test it without taking the boat out, and I've got a lifting keel........

Otherwise, I think we're there. I spent today doing some wiring; putting in the NMEA link between the GPS and the Autohelm, putting in permanent wiring for the GPS to replace the cigarette lighter adaptor I used as a test rig, and installing the gas alarm.

The NMEA wiring meant somehow running a cable from the port side of the cockpit, all the way around the stern, up the starboard side, past the cockpit, through the galley, underneath the starboard settee berth, and finally up to emerge by the chart table where the GPS and VHF are located. A good couple of hours work to make nice, and because the cable is hidden for almost all of the route, nothing to see for my efforts. Still, the glow of self-satisfaction set me up for lunch, and another beer, so I thought I'd try this for a change:

The name has always put me off in the past - who in their right mind would name a beer after a rather shabby television soap opera? Fortunately the beer is rather better than YTV's saga of the Sugdens, albeit that most of the action takes place in the the appropriately named village pub, "The Woolpack".

Moving swiftly on from the tawdry TV series, and back to Ameera - all I really have to show for the day's effort is the gas alarm - at a tenner from Lidl it seemed like a good idea.

So it is done, although maybe I should have cleaned up before taking the photo. What seemed ostensibly to be a simple set of tasks was spiced up by the need to drill some holes to route the various cables installed. Unlike some blokes I am never happy wielding a drill, or any other form of power tool, it just doesn't suit me, so to be drilling holes through bulkheads in a boat was an unnerving task, but hey - she's still floating, I didn't make any through-hulls by mistake, so that's all right then! No excuses, now I can go sailing.

7:52 PM - Feb. 24, 2007 - comments {0} - post comment

Making Her Mine

While Ameera was in Liverpool I visited her regularly and faithfully, and did the miscellaneous odd jobs that boats are always in need of, but now I've got her to Fleetwood, and I'm in possession of a boat to sail on the sea, the picture becomes more focused.

What do I want to do? What do I need to do it? Etc.

I want to sail single-handed a lot of the time. I want a boat that's prepared for sailing offshore, not just racing in the confines of the Mersey with other boats in close proximity if help is needed.

I realised that I needed some back-up systems and some more kit. Specifically, a hard-wired GPS to backup the handheld, a handheld VHF to backup the fixed set, and an autopilot to make single handing easier.

I bought the GPS on eBay - �58 - a bargain.... Then spent a couple of weeks fixing it. The display was shot, the internal memory backup battery was dead.... Oh well, spent the money so better make it work. Fixed it, took it down to the boat, the antenna cable was too short for where I wanted to mount it. I was reusing the antenna post from the old Decca, and needed 25 feet of cable. The GPS antenna came with, and was tuned for, 20 feet. Took the antenna apart, wired it to the old Decca coax. Mounted the display unit where I wanted it, et voila.. the beast lives again. 15 years old but quite sufficient for my needs.

The antenna - held on with gaffer tape until I buy U-bolts - but what the hell.

The display - newly rejuvenated and finding satellites. Who really needs one of these colour, 3D, realtime video chartplotters anyway?

Time for a self-congratulatory lunch - and beer!

Only the best on this boat!

After the hassle with the GPS I had gone off the idea of a second-hand tiller pilot, and had treated myself to a new one. At a very competitive price from Martin of Malthouse Marine I purchased a new ST2000+. Much less hassle, although Raymarine's connector leaves a lot to be desired, obviously not designed for use with thick, current-bearing, cables.

Removing the old connector from the previous autopilot, expanding the connector hole and fitting the new one didn't take long - so now we're ready to go.

Yes, I know the cockpit's filthy. I'll wash it out before sailing.

One more session now, wire in the Gas Alarm courtesy of Lidl's bargains dept., and connect the NMEA interface between the GPS and the tiller pilot. Hopefully next weekend, and then, weather permitting, off sailing!

Ameera at Fleetwood

8:17 PM - Feb. 18, 2007 - comments {0} - post comment

The Beginning

.... of this blog anyway. Not the beginning for Ameera, but every story must have a beginning, a middle and an end.

Ameera is a PaceSetter 28, one of 10 built by Wilson & Richardson, sometime around the beginning of the '80s. She was bought and fitted out by her first owner, and was apparently launched c. 1982. She is unusual amongst PaceSetter 28's in that she has a lifting keel - of the variety that winches almost vertically up into the hull. Designed as a moderately quick cruiser, she has berths for five, and a generous cockpit.

Ameera's first owner clearly treasured her, and was not intending to sell her, but tragically he died in an accident during 1999. In 2001 Ameera was, after standing on the hard in the intervening period, bought by a semi-retired fellow, a keen dinghy racer who wanted to take up yacht racing with the additional time that retirement afforded to him. He raced her enthusiastically out of Liverpool Yacht Club for five years, and lavished a considerable sum of money on those things which needed doing - new motor, new sails, new rudder etc., before deciding that to be more competitive he should buy a yacht with a little more racing in its pedigree, and putting her up for sale.

I bought Ameera at the end of 2006, taking her over on 1st December. She was in the water, and in active use, so little needed doing to her, except to move her from Liverpool Marina where she was berthed at the time, to Fleetwood, which I planned to use as my sailing base.

I live in West Yorkshire, not ideal for a sailor but never mind, meaning that Liverpool and Fleetwood are near as damn equal in travelling time from my home. Fleetwood Marina is a lot cheaper than Liverpool, and provides better access to the Irish Sea - hence my decision to move her. Anyway, pause for breath - here she is,at Liverpool.

Having taken possession I did the usual thing, and spent a day mooching around exploring her nooks and crannies. I took some photos of bits that needed research, and some general photos of her innards. Not very polite maybe, but useful as an aide-memoir.

This bit needed investigating - the electrical supply for it was labelled "Decca", it looked like some sort of GPS display, but apparently the antenna was missing.

Investigation on the YBW forums revealed that it was indeed a "Decca" location display, and also that the Decca system had been switched off in 2000, so its presence was for decorative purposes only - oh well.

Perusing through the photos at home I found that there was some chunk of electronics attached to the rudder stock tube, which led me to wonder whether it was part of the autopilot system that had apparently been fitted, but never seen by the last owner.

More investigation revealed that it was not - it was the control unit for a diesel-fueled Eberspacher heater - a bonus feature not mentioned by the vendor. Further investigation and fiddling rapidly turned it into a working heater - Oh Joy. Eberspachers are not cheap - this was a real and unexpected bonus!

The weather in December was foul. Gale upon gale. Liverpool Marina suffered some damage, thankfully Ameera escaped unscathed, but it meant that conditions were not ideal for the voyage up the coast to Fleetwood. I solicited the assistance of an experienced skipper (one who knew the Mersey) via the YBW forums, and wound up in contact with Andy Trowler, an ex-fireman in a mid-life crisis, a YM who had sailed the Mersey for most of his life and fancied a trip out, if the weather ever abated.

Finally it broke, we got a decent spell - at Christmas! Everyone was of course involved in jollies, family etc., not the best of times. Andy kindly agreed to go for it on the 28th, I'm not sure I would have been so accomodating in the middle of the festive season, but sure enough, 6AM on the 28th saw us slipping out and into the Liverpool Marina lock, through, and into the Mersey, lit only by the reflections of the lights ashore (and the odd buoy here & there).

It's winter, so however we did it, one end of the trip was going to be in the dark. Andy's knowledge of the Mersey was invaluable, I have never tried to navigate in the dark before, and on a misty night it wasn't going to be easy shuttling from buoy to buoy. Andy got us out of the Mersey, along the Crosby and Queens Channels, then we turned due North.

"Liverpool Coastguard, Liverpool Coastguard, shipping forecast on Channel 67" - or something like that. We tuned the radio to the prescribed channel, and listened to the weather forecast - a Gale Warning. From the way the forecast was written it sounded as though the gale should already be upon us. Joy, and slightly edgy looks passed between us. We had known that the weather was due to turn bad again soon, and the early morning shipping forecast had indicated the gales were coming back, but it hadn't sounded as bad as this forecast. We decided to stay on the motor, and get North to Fleetwood as quickly as possible. The gales would be coming from the south anyway, so we were running ahead of them. Dawn broke slowly, turning the mist from black to grey.

"Mayday, Mayday, Mayday" - the VHF squawked again. The coastguard was repeating the Mayday, already in place, for the helicopter that had crashed just off one of the Morecambe gas rigs the previous evening. One passenger was still unaccounted for and the search was continuing. We carried on motoring North through the gloomy mist. With visibility below a kilometre there was nothing to see except the occasional gaggle of geese coming within range.

The gloom broke shortly after midday. Glorious sunshine on a calm sea, looking south there was, thankfully, still no sign of the gales that were supposed to be pursueing us. We had, in our haste, made good time, and the extended visibility was just in time for us to start looking for the buoys marking the approaches to Fleetwood. We raced a trawler for the channel, but he turned away, and we realised that it was so soon after low water that he couldn't approach yet. We decided to risk it though, according to the chart we would have a metre or two to spare, so we throttled right back and almost drifted down the channel on the tide, with just enough power to keep our steerage. My first trip in an untried boat, under the threat of yet more gales - Fleetwood was a welcome sight.

We picked up one of the visitors' moorings at Knott End, outside the entrance to Fleetwood dock, and waited for the gates to open. Andy, who had steadfastly refused all offerings of food and drink except a little hot water, enthusiastically accepted a beer - at least I had got something right, the boat was loaded to the gunwales with food and drink in consideration for this stranger who had so put himself out for me, it was a relief when he finally accepted some small token of hospitality. Fleetwood opened early, at least an hour ahead of schedule, so we motored in and picked a berth, expecting to wait a while for my son-in-law to arrive, who was providing the transport back to Liverpool. But there was his car, parked up by the dock, he'd decided to get out early as well, so we didn't even have time for another beer.

6:48 PM - Dec. 29, 2006 - comments {1} - post comment

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