Foul winds, Foul Fuel

The route back from the Caribbean is seldom simple; it is a question of planning a strategy to dodge around weather systems, avoiding the headwinds, skirting around the windless holes then waiting for the perfect low pressure system to sweep you east without beating you up on the way. We left Antigua with a grand plan in mind; to head north out of the easterlies and then motor directly through the centre of a high pressure system above us. Once this was cleared we would hook into a low and ride our way home. Simple but effective. Like all great plans, it didn’t turn out that way and somewhere on day 4 of our trip things took an unusual turn and the last week has been poles apart from what I had hoped. Objectives for yacht deliveries are completely different to racing. My main aims for this passage are naturally to keep my crew safe, then to minimise wear, tear and damage to the boat and sails then finally to get back to the UK as quickly as I can. When I look at the weather I am not only looking for a quick route but also an easy one, I will avoid excessive wind and waves and aim to motor through areas of calm as much as fuel supplies will allow. For this trip Phorty is using old sails which is also limiting our performance – I have only a small jib and small spinnaker available to use. The good new ones are kept for racing best. At times deliveries can be painfully slow, especially if you know just how much potential the boat has to go faster; I find it quite hard and have to mentally sit on my hands to stop them from searching out big spinnakers or shaking out reefs when actually we are going fast enough already. So.. back to day 4 of our delivery and we are making our way north, under motor with a blistering hot sun baking down on the deck. And then all of a sudden we are not. With a faltering put putting, the engine grinds to a halt and we are left wallowing – a heavily laden boat with small delivery sails in a big sloppy and windless ocean. Somewhere along the lines we must have picked up some dirty fuel and the engine could no longer be relied upon to either charge our batteries or fire up in an emergency situation such as man overboard. There was only one solution available, which was to sail to Bermuda some 400 miles to the North West then drain our tank, change the fuel filters and start the trip over again. The biggest hurdle being actually getting to Bermuda from the wind hole we were firmly stuck in. It took three days of trying, of hoping every time a ripple appeared on the horizon that this would be the breeze filling in then the disappointment as the boat slapped and slammed and the sails hung loose when the wind fizzled out to nothing again. To make matters worse we were due to make our Bermuda landfall just after sunset on a Saturday night so the hope of getting professional help on the island on a Sunday was limited and we would need to spend the night stooging around outside the island in the dark, as to sail between the reefs with no engine at night would not have been a smart idea. In an effort to try and organise some help for a quick turn around, back in the UK Ash started to ring around various contacts to find out where was the best place to go in Bermuda to sort our problems out and if there was anyone who might be able to help out on a Sunday. After a great flurry of contact – many thanks to everyone who offered advice – we came back with the answer that Bermuda is basically closed on a Sunday. No one could even think about whether they could help us until Monday morning. As the sun rose on Sunday we came to the realisation we were on our own, rolled up our sleeves and decided to nail this problem. With the help and guidance of the Duty Officer at the wonderful Bermuda Harbour Radio we sailed in through Town Cut to St Georges harbour then picked up a tow from a passing fisherman and finally we made it to the shore. The mission would now begin and I had a problem solving ace crew for the job. I pulled apart the stern locker to find an oil extraction pump and some old garden hose which was then duly cobbled together to drain the tank. Diane led a mission to find a disposal place for the old fuel and a garage to get some new stuff. After two hours of pumping, rinsing, cleaning and walking backwards and forwards with jerry cans the engine started again and we left it purring away for a couple of hours, watching from a quayside restaurant while inhaling a burger and chips that was long overdue. And so that evening we once more set off to sail back to England. The forecast is slightly different and we are one crew down as Poppy flew home from Bermuda, but three days into the next leg of our trip and I am pleased to report there is nothing to report. The worlds of racing and deliveries require different temperaments – to mix them up would bring failure on both counts. However there is one stand out attribute that is required across the board when ocean sailing and that is to take adversity on the chin. Things go wrong, sometimes fault can be attributed, and sometimes it just happens. For every problem that gets thrown into your path a solution must be found, circumstances must be endured or embraced, there is seldom time for self-pity or lamentation and rarely anyone else to play the fairy godmother and make your problems go away. If you can do all this and still find the time to enjoy a stint on the helm or marvel at a beautiful sunset then life cannot be bad at all.

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