Juggler's Logbook

"Sailing to... a shell"

"Juggler" is a Halcyon 23 sailing boat. The following is the continuing logbook of her summer cruise from Bristol to somewhere west.

The log is currently (August, 2000) updated daily using a Psion series 5 handheld computer and an Ericsson SH888 mobile phone which has an infra-red modem.

A part of me wants to be back in Bristol (Cappuccino in the Arnolfini with a new book). But, part of me wants to escape the Bristol Channel and wend up into the Irish Sea.

I have realised I tend to be over ambitious, a daysail of ten miles has all the adventure of a fifty mile passage. One tends to be closer inshore, to see the sand and rock with colourfull crowds of holidaymakers. Offshore though, just the long, slow swell and ships, steel blocks, one kilometre long, full of a thousand new cars or some other global commodity.

1750hrs shipping forecast on radio 4 LW.
General synopsis: High pressure in sea area Sole, steady.
Lundy - wind: west or north-west, force 3 or less. Occasional drizzle. Sea state moderate. Fog patches.

I only feel like savouring the stillness, allowing the anxiety and sicky feeling to drift into the past.

Monday 7th August:
Arrived Swansea 2200 hrs.
After leaving placid Barry Harbour, where I was charged no money and willingly lent a mooring by members of Barry Sailing Club, I was making, tenuously, for Ilfracombe at 38 miles distant. A fresh westerly wind meant a difficult passage, a long slog to windward, straining boat and self. But, nowhere else seemed attractive, mainly because entry to the north Devon ports is only at or near high tide. The Glamorgan coast west of Barry offers no shelter from west or south-west winds for 35 miles. So I ended up in Swansea, attracted by marina facilities. Actually my batteries needed charging and I like to have a full supply of petrol for safety. Oxwich Bay anchorage offered neither of these and the weather forecast told of fresher conditions. "Fresh" winds are the ones which are fantastic sailing inshore but make for wet and tiring upwind sailing, offshore.

I ate thick wholemeal bread, old and crumbly, with slabs of tinned ham, complete with jelly, mmmmm!
Juggler sailed very well, reefed (reefing is making the sails smaller) with three rolls in the mainsail and the foresail. I tacked west along the Glamorgan shore, a series of small bays and headlands, with holidaymakers looking out to sea at the sailing boat. Juggler must look so small from the cliffs. Some tacks took me quite close inshore, within fifty metres of the cliffs. Other inshore tacks needed care due to submerged but charted, so significant, offlying rocks. Castle Rock, east of Rhoose Point (in the fourth bay along from Barry) can be as shallow as 0.7 metres. With the tide approaching high water this rock would have about 7 metres over it. I still have a deep fear/respect of isolated and unseen rocks, they kick up a surface motion which can be unnerving or dangerous (Known as "overfalls").

In Barry Harbour this morning I felt a little ill. My actions were slower, I had a temperature, and felt odd in my stomach. I put it down to a heavy thunder cloud hanging overhead, mild exhaustion, and anxiety. This quickly dispersed as I sailed out of the harbour into the fresh westerley breeze. A case of twelve hour harbour rot I'd say!

Pilot Books.
The £20 book (David Taylor, Lundy and Irish Sea Pilot) isn't much cop. It is thin on pilotage, too brief on anchorages, omitting of passage details and watery in harbour information.
I like Peter Cumberlidge's, Bristol Channel Pilot. It has his photo in the dust jacket, in which he's wearing oilies, salty hair and a sort of "mugs of tea and ham sandwiches grin".
The other pilot I'm using is Robert Kemp, 1983, Irish Sea and Bristol Channel Pilot, which I was pleased to find in Bristol library. I like this book's detailed plans of routes and harbours, aerial photos with routes drawn in and passage planning maps you could almost navigate by. This says much about the nature of my navigation techniques which are "pragmatic" rather than perfectly planned.
The really essential reference book is the Nautical Almanac. Mine is the Macmillan and Silk Cut, 1994. It has everything. I think some things can be used even if they are 6 years old, my navigation charts are new and corrected to August by the way. I do refer to one though which is from 23rd March 1973. It is beautiful, it has prints of etchings along the upper edge, showing views of cliffs and headlands from various plotted positions. They are not for decoration, they show safe routes by instructing the navigator to keep certain headlands open to certain others, thus avoiding shallows etc.
This chart was given to me in Padstow by a helpful seafarer after I enquired about Barnstaple Bay. At the time I was making north-west towards Bristol from Cornwall. The charts I possessed at the time did not cover a 15 mile section of coast.

Aspects of cruising have changed drastically, my mobile phone just rang, Jo, my sister called me. She was strolling on a beach in Cornwall as she talked, while I sit in a yacht in Swansea Marina, as I talk. Later, I shall publish this log book from the boat onto the World Wide Web. When I started sailing in Juggler in 1990 these facilities would have been inconceivable.

Navigation skills.
I may have a reactive approach to navigation but it's full time, like a constant computation of all possibilities to see which option will be sound and result in progress away from more danger and towards less danger, or, the safe completion of the passage. Usually a passage plan consists of the following, "leave one and a half hours before high water, make along the coast and then head to {wherever} as the tide changes". This seems to fit most offshore passages.

Where to now though? The further away from Bristol, the futher to get back. I may leave the boat in a marina while I go to the Llamas band re-union in Yorkshire (Twenty years ago I played the bass guitar). The plan was to sail to Liverpool or Preston and get quite close to Ilkley, I could even take down the mast and head into the canal system to within five miles of Ilkley. But that would be mad, all those locks (probably a hundred), no way.

Really, I will be content to have made it to Milford Haven (still a fair way from here). Then I can perhaps explore that attractive area and also cross to Devon on the way back. I like Ilfracombe and I paid my harbour dues, back in 1997 on the way to Bristol from Falmouth. That really matters in the cruising world. With all the anxiety and sicky moments at sea, paying harbour fees can feel like good solid human interaction.

As much as I want a windvane steering device, I suspect it may be dissapointing on coastal cruising. The wind often shifts, the required track often shifts, the wave patterns often change and my plans often alter. Juggler is very well balanced, often sailing happily with nothing touching the tiller, reacting to each gust and windshift through the pressure on the sails and water.

I would like a diesel engine to punch a lost tide (one that's turned against the direction in which the boat needs to go). tonight I spent three hours rounding a five mile sandbank (Scarweather Sands dry ten feet high) in order to turn out of the foul tide into Swansea Bay. A diesel engine could push Juggler against the wind and waves, strongly.

The outboard (Mariner four horse power) is often lifted clear of the water, revving frighteningly, Otherwise it gets plunged nearly to the engine itself as the bow lifts to a choppy sea. Just when it's most needed, an outboard is least effective. Filling the petrol tank, perched on the stern, is dangerous (and must stop, as a proceedure too risky). I need a pump to refil from the cockpit.

Swansea Bay was spectacular in the evening light. Backed by mountains green and sunny to the east; black and smokey to the west. I laughed at the thought of all those woodburners being it by English visitors, living or emulating the country life in Wales. I could smell woodsmoke across the 10 miles of sea between me and the western end of Swansea Bay. The most absurd thoughts come through my mind, I imagined the black hills populated by gnomes in their little cottages, these ideas are symptoms of the euphoria I feel occasionally at the point where I can sniff land and anxiety begins to recede. Anxiety soon reappears as the thought of port entry becomes the focus of my mind and the computation of potential risks grinds on.

Tuesday 8th August 1410hrs.
Swansea surrounds me like a sweaty blanket, it's nice to be in urbanity (I went in search of a bakery and a cafe') but shops are the same nationwide. The first impression I got is that all the shops are closed down and boarded up, to be replaced by "Super Shops" which sell everything one could possibly need, like cigs, milk, fags and papers???

Swansea has a modern shopping gallery just the same as anywhere. The older part of town is similar to Reading or Leicester. I found battery terminals to link my two together, film for my camera, batteries for my Psion and GPS, distilled water for the charging, boiling, batteries.

Things on sale which made me chuckle are a beer named "Blob". Gold plastic 13 amp plugs and a skin tight pink lame' mini dress.
The Old Maid Cafe' has a painted 3/4 scale hardboard Old Maid in the window, wearing long black skirts, broccade and lace neck, topped with half-eyes and a silver bun.

The most exciting thing I saw was a calender with pictures of the Welsh coastline, the Gower, Milford Haven, and north Wales are all beautiful. Especially when taken on sunny days with large format cameras.
I wonder if a fan heater will be useful to dry out the damp. Juggler has become more fish than fowl after her voyage and is damp as a sea cave.

I could light a charcoal fire but it is simply too warm already. The damp is partly due to very muggy weather which feels like having a mildly feverish temperature.
I've checked with various people (Boots checkout girl, Old Maid Cafe' waitress, Marina office staff) that it is not just me who is gruggy, all reports say the weather is the cause. So I'll just plod on into my adventure.

The best thing I brought on this trip is a Helly Hansen sailing jacket (£8 in Oxfam). Breathable and light as a ten pound note, it has a good hood and zips up to the nose. It is bright yellow, the sort of yellow it's hard to buy.

It would be tempting to get a diesel engine and self steering, then I can really plug against those foul tides and headwinds. Juggler has behaved impeccably. The sails have been deep reefed since leaving Avonmouth, as a result she is balanced and powerful. The outboard is hanging together occasionally it stops in protest at being plunged up to its cowling in seawater.

There is very little to match the fear produced by being set towards an offshore sandbank with waves crashing over it (such as Scarweather Sand, 7 miles off Swansea).

After a day in Swansea, inevitably, Scarweather will feel attractive again.

And that's sailing.

It doesn't matter which boat one chooses (as long as it is ones own), they all become special after a while, after the fear and anxiety are absorbed into the hull; after the fitting which cuts ones fingers is removed and replaced with something better and after the clinking, clonking noises have gradually been eroded down to just occasional clanks.
A boat is a work in progress, Juggler has got better over the years, she's still sticky salt damp inside and the windows still leak a bit. She is a real fine little boat.

Maybe when I grow old I'll hoist her ashore for the last time, rename her Dun-floatin, and buy the tarp of all tarps to live out my old age under. Gradually the whole lot would moulder down into the soil, me included, then Juggler would have truly reached land.

I picked up a shell on the flat hard sand of Swansea beach. I was struck by the way Juggler had sailed to that shell.

Shells and sand are characteristic and symbolic of far away places. My feeling and insight was of pleasure at reaching far away places again. I looked out at the wide sweep of Swansea Bay and the Mumbles, how did I get here? On my own? In a boat? Wonder and shells go together.