After 18 days at sea I landed in Tenby on 17 September.
It was a sail not without its up and downs.
We got sucked into two low pressure systems whirling from west to east. Both times we went we passed through the eye of the storm. For 12 odd hours as the evil eye passes over us the screaming wind dies down to a whisper and the needle on the barometer falls to ridiculous low level. Then the howling returns from the opposite direction. For the next 16 to 24 hours we claw our way out.
One day in. One day out.
We survived the first 3 spells unscathed but the last one threw up a monster wave that hit us broadside like a freight train buckling my mast track and ripping my triple reefed main to shreds.
But we carried on with the remaining sails without incident and in a few days were off the SW coast of Ireland.
So now I'm back in sunny south Wales enjoying some warm weather. I'll post my future hopes and sailing plans in a few days.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Saturday, August 30, 2008
'Nol Gartre / homewards bound
I'm pushing off tomorrow to face the cold winds of Valhalla on a run south to Ireland and Wales. Forecasts look reasonable and I should be drinking a Felinfoel within two weeks. I'll post again from Wales with some pictures and clips of the sail down. Check back in two weeks ... or so.
hwyl!,
Simon
hwyl!,
Simon
Friday, August 29, 2008
a rough night
The low pressure system I'm planning to hop a ride south on has been playing up. Last night it blew a steady 40 knots with gust 60+. Despite being in a sheltered harbour Ara' Deg groaned and heeled all night just from the force of the wind against mast and rigging.
The flag got ripped off. The pole snapped. Luckily it remained in the cockpit so Y Ddraig Coch will fly again!
Still planning an a Sunday departure as by then the winds will have decreased and veered to the east. At least according to the latest forecast.
It's then going to a game of strategy mixed with some luck as I weave my way down between constantly shifting low pressure systems. The journey should take between 10 and 20 days, depending on my fortune. Let's say 15 then.
The flag got ripped off. The pole snapped. Luckily it remained in the cockpit so Y Ddraig Coch will fly again!
Still planning an a Sunday departure as by then the winds will have decreased and veered to the east. At least according to the latest forecast.
It's then going to a game of strategy mixed with some luck as I weave my way down between constantly shifting low pressure systems. The journey should take between 10 and 20 days, depending on my fortune. Let's say 15 then.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
waiting on weather
An American sail boat arrived shortly after the Belgians and Bismark II left. When I came back from the library yesterday it had departed and I was the only sail boat left in the harbour. But before night fell it was back! I guess it stuck it nose out and realized the winds were from the south.
This morning I dragged myself out of bed and looked around. Two more sail boats have arrived. A wooden 50 ft + wooden gaff rig from France “Nortre Dame des Flots” that I had seen previously seen tied up at the yacht club in Reykjavik. Another sail boat from England (home port Plymouth) has arrived. After a summer of sailing around Iceland they are getting ready for the voyage home.
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I keep an eye on the larger picture by downloading weather files and forecasts from www.grib.us. It’s a free service and you can get a 7 day forecast displaying wind speeds and directions in 3 hour intervals anywhere in the world.
Up here in the far north it works like this:
Low pressure systems, like giant cartwheels a thousand miles or more across, roam from west to east in an erratic fashion. The cartwheels always spin in an anticlockwise motion. The trick is to get on these global merry-go-rounds at the right time and ride them as far as you can to your destination.
I’m waiting for the centre of a giant low pressure system to move south and east of us so I can jump on it for a ride south. Everyday I check the forecasts religiously. Current forecasts suggest a Sunday departure. But it could be sooner if the low pressure system decides to pick up its pace.
Once off, my goal is to go directly south so as to avoid headwinds from the next approaching low pressure system. One I get below, say, 55 degrees N, I should be able to rely on westerlies (or to put it another way, the bottom of the low pressure systems) to take me to Ireland and Wales.
On land one wants to know from weather forecasts how warm, cold, sunny, cloudy, rainy, it’s going to be. When sailing long distance these concerns are of little consequence. The only thing that really matters is wind speed and direction.
At the bottom of the blog I’ve posted a chart that shows how the wind system should look like midnight tonight. The red boat is my current location. The black dots connected by lines is the projected course of the center of the low pressure system. Each dot resents 24 hours of movement.
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I’ve always had an interest in languages. Icelandic is an old Norse tongue as spoken by the Vikings over a thousand years ago. But all the Germanic languages (including English) sound similar to the ear. ‘Got tag’ they say for ‘good day’. ‘Thanks’ is simply ‘tak’. They say ‘sex’ for ‘six’. I wonder what they say for ‘sex’. Six?
Speaking of language and literature, I’m reading, for the second time, a book I bought just before I left Wales. It’s called Gwylliaid Glyndwr (The Glyndwr Bandits) published by Y Lolfa. It’s one of the funniest and most enjoyable books I’ve read for a long time. The story revolves around the theft of the Pennal Letter from the National Library of Wales in Aberystwyth and includes collaborators from Manchester, thugs from London, the French Secret Service, Welsh bureaucratic buffoons, as well as an odd assortment of slightly mad Welsh nationalists.
If there is anyone back home who reads this blog and can read Welsh (two people come to mind) who might be interested just say and I’ll pass it on to you once I’m back on Welsh soil.
Hwyl nawr,
Simon
This morning I dragged myself out of bed and looked around. Two more sail boats have arrived. A wooden 50 ft + wooden gaff rig from France “Nortre Dame des Flots” that I had seen previously seen tied up at the yacht club in Reykjavik. Another sail boat from England (home port Plymouth) has arrived. After a summer of sailing around Iceland they are getting ready for the voyage home.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I keep an eye on the larger picture by downloading weather files and forecasts from www.grib.us. It’s a free service and you can get a 7 day forecast displaying wind speeds and directions in 3 hour intervals anywhere in the world.
Up here in the far north it works like this:
Low pressure systems, like giant cartwheels a thousand miles or more across, roam from west to east in an erratic fashion. The cartwheels always spin in an anticlockwise motion. The trick is to get on these global merry-go-rounds at the right time and ride them as far as you can to your destination.
I’m waiting for the centre of a giant low pressure system to move south and east of us so I can jump on it for a ride south. Everyday I check the forecasts religiously. Current forecasts suggest a Sunday departure. But it could be sooner if the low pressure system decides to pick up its pace.
Once off, my goal is to go directly south so as to avoid headwinds from the next approaching low pressure system. One I get below, say, 55 degrees N, I should be able to rely on westerlies (or to put it another way, the bottom of the low pressure systems) to take me to Ireland and Wales.
On land one wants to know from weather forecasts how warm, cold, sunny, cloudy, rainy, it’s going to be. When sailing long distance these concerns are of little consequence. The only thing that really matters is wind speed and direction.
At the bottom of the blog I’ve posted a chart that shows how the wind system should look like midnight tonight. The red boat is my current location. The black dots connected by lines is the projected course of the center of the low pressure system. Each dot resents 24 hours of movement.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I’ve always had an interest in languages. Icelandic is an old Norse tongue as spoken by the Vikings over a thousand years ago. But all the Germanic languages (including English) sound similar to the ear. ‘Got tag’ they say for ‘good day’. ‘Thanks’ is simply ‘tak’. They say ‘sex’ for ‘six’. I wonder what they say for ‘sex’. Six?
Speaking of language and literature, I’m reading, for the second time, a book I bought just before I left Wales. It’s called Gwylliaid Glyndwr (The Glyndwr Bandits) published by Y Lolfa. It’s one of the funniest and most enjoyable books I’ve read for a long time. The story revolves around the theft of the Pennal Letter from the National Library of Wales in Aberystwyth and includes collaborators from Manchester, thugs from London, the French Secret Service, Welsh bureaucratic buffoons, as well as an odd assortment of slightly mad Welsh nationalists.
If there is anyone back home who reads this blog and can read Welsh (two people come to mind) who might be interested just say and I’ll pass it on to you once I’m back on Welsh soil.
Hwyl nawr,
Simon
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
holding my cards
Every day I check the longterm weather forecasts as if my life depended on it. Maybe it does.
The Belgians sailed off this morning - but they're headed west over the top of Scotland and down the east coast on Britain. So sailing today makes sense.
I'm headed south, possibly down the west coast of Ireland so I wait for more favorable conditions.
The German in his 25 ton steal monster (which I've nicknamed "Bismark II") is heading out for the Mediterranean later today. I told him he'd be better waiting a few days but he set on today and that's that. He seems enthusiastic but not too bright.
An American boat just sailed in to take the place the Belgians had vacated. I'll have to call by to what's up.
All for now,
Simon
The Belgians sailed off this morning - but they're headed west over the top of Scotland and down the east coast on Britain. So sailing today makes sense.
I'm headed south, possibly down the west coast of Ireland so I wait for more favorable conditions.
The German in his 25 ton steal monster (which I've nicknamed "Bismark II") is heading out for the Mediterranean later today. I told him he'd be better waiting a few days but he set on today and that's that. He seems enthusiastic but not too bright.
An American boat just sailed in to take the place the Belgians had vacated. I'll have to call by to what's up.
All for now,
Simon
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Rubbish quality but not squished!
Below is a few clips I took with my digital camera sailing from Noddy Bay, Newfoundland to Reykjavik, Iceland. 22 days condensed into 2 minutes. At least this time it isn't squished like the last attempt.
When I sailed in to Vestmannaeyjar here on Wednesday it was warm and sunny - really delightful. But then the honeymoon came to and end. It's been overcast and raining these past 3 days. I guess it's getting me acclimatized for Wales.
A German sailboat came in yesterday and snuggled up to the Belgian one. We are all waiting, as sailors have done for hundreds of years, for fair winds to take us to our destinations. I will probably be pushing off this Tuesday, 26 August, but weather forecasting is a fickle and unreliable science bordering on the occult. So we'll have to see how things stand on Monday. If I can get a few days of brisk northerlies I'm considering running down the west coast of Ireland and come in from underneath. We'll see how things go...
until later,
Simon
When I sailed in to Vestmannaeyjar here on Wednesday it was warm and sunny - really delightful. But then the honeymoon came to and end. It's been overcast and raining these past 3 days. I guess it's getting me acclimatized for Wales.
A German sailboat came in yesterday and snuggled up to the Belgian one. We are all waiting, as sailors have done for hundreds of years, for fair winds to take us to our destinations. I will probably be pushing off this Tuesday, 26 August, but weather forecasting is a fickle and unreliable science bordering on the occult. So we'll have to see how things stand on Monday. If I can get a few days of brisk northerlies I'm considering running down the west coast of Ireland and come in from underneath. We'll see how things go...
until later,
Simon
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