That Azores trip, remenber?

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ianwright

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This time last year I wrote:-

"Most of the 'Ocean' races from the AZAB onwards are no longer accepting entries from smallish boats (under 28ft dwl) like Vertues , a Wanderer wouldn't get in either. I'm not sure, but I'd bet the organisers would get a bit twitchy about wooden boats with no guard-rails of any sort.
This is total tosh.
It was our sort of boat that started the very events they are now banned from.
So,,,,,,,,,
During a pub lunch the other day one of three Virtue owners said "I wouldn't mind sailing to the Azores and back before I'm to old for it,,,," Then it went quiet for a bit.
So (again),,,,,,,,,
Anybody else like to come? Spring 2005. No entry fee. No organisation, all boats sail under the Skippers responsibility only.
Side bets of small value not a problem.
Just a thought

and,,,,,,,

this is an event with no organisation and, other than a hope that participants and their boats are fit for any trip they undertake, no rules.
I suppose that if I had given this the thought it deserved I might have said that anyone who wouldn't or couldn't join a more formal event (Like AZAB, ARC or what have you) for whatever reason might, just possibly enjoy a bit of a sail with other people of like mind.
Does anyone else listen to "I'm sorry, I haven't a Clue", the antidote to panel games? Well, think of this idea as the Mornington Crescent of sailing events.
If it happens it might be fun, don't you think?"

Well, is is happening. Of the 34 "expressions of interest" I recived so far only 5 have told me that they can't make it, 6 have said they WILL make it, sverall still HOPE to make it.
We are going,,,,,,,,,,!
I will leave the Blackwater at the start of May, hope to arrive Falmouth a week or two later and leave Falmouth toward the Azores on or about 1st of June hoping to arrive at Horta 20 days later.
There is still time to decide that you will take part. /forums/images/graemlins/smile.gif
See you there?
Oh go on, you know you want to,,,,,,,,,,,,,
Ian Wright.
 
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Bergman

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Re: Never mind the Azores

You never told us the complete story of the round Britain trip

If I remember rightly you got as far as Grimsby and left us cliff hanging about the next stage to Brid.

What happened

Too horrible to relate?

We need to be told

These pub lunches can get you into awful trouble
 
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ianwright

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Re: Never mind the Azores

[ QUOTE ]
You never told us the complete story of the round Britain trip

If I remember rightly you got as far as Grimsby and left us cliff hanging about the next stage to Brid.

[/ QUOTE ]

Grimsby? Granted I never finished the full tale and yes it does have some nasty bits, but I thought I'd got you as far as Tobermory. Not so?
Oh well, new readers start here,,,,,,,,

“There and back” or ”Darkest Scotland and the Northern Tribes”


Chapter the First, “We Didn’t Mean to Go to Grimsby”

Three old men, each in his own Vertue, left the Blackwater on the first of May headed north with the aim of circumnavigating something or other: we didn’t make it.
Going north against north east winds is not the sort of sailing any of us is fond of, so , on the third day of our trip, Lowestoft towards Whitby, when the wind was forcast to become NE 7 or 8 we diverted to Grimsby on the Humber. “Diverted” translates as “Ran like Hares”,,,,,,,,,.
Now an unplanned visit to Grimsby would be no problem on a rising tide. Indeed the 4 knot flood would be a great help. A 5 knot ebb in boats with a hull speed of 6 knots is less of a help, especialy with a young gale kicking up a nasty sea. We eventually tucked in behind Spurn Point to wait for the tide to turn. When it did we made very short work of the 5 miles or so to the old Grimsby Fish Dock where we hid for three days whimpering quietly,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

In our next episode “Grimsby to Bridlington” our heroes discover the best way of attracting the attention of the Coastguard, two lifeboats and a Harbourmaster.



Chapter the Second, Grimsby towards Bridlington.

We left the Humber at the right time of the tide, got swept north and east round the shallows and settled down for a twelveish hour sail to Brid’. Sunny and a nice reach.
Two hours later, Rain, fog and wind on the nose. Bugger!
Two of us kept a mile or so offshore, the other beat up the beach tacking when the sounder read two meters.
A quarter mile or so from Bridlington harbour entrance, still rain, fog and wind on the nose. One of us, (I will not say who) spoke on 06 vhf. “Er,,,,, I’m aground on the beach, Chaps.” “Are you OK?” Well, At least I know where I’m spending the night!” A thoughtful silence reigned for a few moments then, “Look, I’m not happy leaving you there, I think the Coastguard ought to be told. How do you feel about that?” “Er, OK, might be best. The surf is breaking into the cockpit and she’s hitting pretty hard.”
So the Coastguard were appraised of the situation.
Five mins later two CG Landrovers were on the beach, blue lights flashing and illuminating the casualty. Two more mins and the inshore lifeboat was on scene and a 17 year old crewman waded through the surf to reassure the skipper.
The ILB made a quick attempt to haul her off but the tide was away too far. Time for the big boat. She had her off and safe alongside the harbour wall in short order.
Fifteen Coastguard, three ILB crew and eight big boat crew made sure we were all fine and vanished like fairies. Well, it was midnight.
Next day the ‘casualty’ visited the lifeboat station to apologise, offer grateful thanks and slip a few pounds into the Lifeboat collecting box.
“Not to worry”, said the Coxs’n “Its all good practice and it’s our first ‘shout’ this year!”
After another rest day and a terrific fish and chip meal we left for (at last!”) Whitby.

Chapter the Third, Whitby and points North.

Once at Bridlington, even if the RNLI helped you get there, a Yotties life gets a little easier. rocks are no softer, in fact there are more of them and they infest the desired direct route between ports, but at least the ports are closer together also. Within the abilities of Yottin’ pensioners, nearly.
So to Whitby. Whitby, you may know, is where Bram Stoker wrote or at least got the inspiration for “Dracula”. Local legend has it that Dracula came ashore at Whitby in the form of a huge black hound, the only survivor of a shipwreck. His descendants still live there and are employed as harbour staff. The harbour is a narrow gash in the cliffs with a nice set of off lying rocks and reefs, and a fast cross tide to add interest. The only water at low tide is through the lifting town bridge which lifts on the hour and half hour during daylight and not at all after 8pm. We nicked a berth each at the Whitby Yacht Club pontoon and settled down for the night prepared to fight off harbourmaster’s assistants (“You can’t stay there, the yacht club don’t like it!”. as only wet old sailors can. (Garlic, sharp steaks, silver crosses)
Over the next few days we port hopped via Blyth, Amble and the Farne Islands. to our first Scottish port at Eyemouth. A nice place is Eyemouth, a working fishing port (Prawns, Crabs, Lobsters and Scallops, yummy!) but one which welcomes yachtsmen and provides well for them.. Then across the Firth of Forth to Anstruther. (pronounced “Annstruh”)
Now our plan A was to get north and then west to Inverness and transit the Caledonian canal. With constant north west winds where there should have been southerlies we were making very slow progress so we, reluctantly, moved on to plan B. In point of fact we didn’t have a plan B but we made one up as follows,,,,,,,,,,,
Sail up the Forth to Port Edgar, crane out our masts and on to the Forth-Clyde canal which had re-opened four years ago at huge cost. They forgot to raise the bridges.
Anyway it was a short cut to the west coast and we had little choice. Trouble was the staff at Port Edgar don’t work at weekends and we arrived on a Friday. so got stuck with three days marina fees, about £50 plus another £50 to get the masts out. Monday we motored the ten miles to the canal entrance and paid the other arm and leg for a transit fee. It took an hour each to fill out the required forms so we didn’t get moving in the canal ‘til the next day.
Now, to be fair, it was a nice enough canal as canals go, a little shallow to be sure, but the staff were keen. They drove along the tow path to operate the (many) locks and bridges, take lines and so on. I very nearly began to enjoy it,,,,,,,,,,,,,
We stopped for the night at the Falkirk Wheel and headed west the next day. Towards Kirkantilloch, Maryhill and the rear end of Glasgow. A district infested with boat hating tribes, three of them, The Rangers tribe, the Celtic Tribe and, God help us, a Manchester United tribe. Each distinguished by the wearing of the tribes football shirts, they are each others sworn enemies, but the people they hate above all others are English Yachtsmen. So they throw stuff. Abuse, rocks, dog poo(!), ball bearings from catapults and, twice, .22 slugs,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
We survived. It was a real pleasure to get out to salt water again. So much so that at my first taste of Clyde sailing I ran aground, twice in ten minutes.

There you go, as far as the West of Scotland,,,,,,, there is more,,,,,,,,(?)

IanW /forums/images/graemlins/smile.gif
 
B

Bergman

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Re: Never mind the Azores

Thank you Ian

A wonderful tale I enjoyed it.

But

Are you really sure sure about this Azores trip? even if there are no warring Glaswegians there - I think
 
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