A great daysail

Friday 11 May

An early start to begin a longish day passage, smoothly out of our borrowed box berth and into a lumpy sea left over from yesterday’s wind. Once the lines and fenders were tidily stowed by Mate, she took over on the helm while Skipper hoisted the mainsail and set the genoa, in a very cooperative wind of NW 3-4, giving us a lovely reach due South. By 0900 the sky was lifting and brightening, and huge flocks of barnacle geese flew overhead on their migration to the Northeast and their Summer breeding grounds. Mate changed the courtesy flag from Sweden back to Denmark as we crossed through Danish waters on our way to Germany.

With Jeanny happily keeping us in the right direction, the crew soon settled into a two-hourly watch. Around lunchtime the wind backed to the West and died away, so even with both foresails flying and the cone up, indicating we were motorsailing, Trevver had to be put into service to push us safely across the shipping lane between large vessels.

During the afternoon the wind filled in again, still from the West, all the sails were back in action and the courtesy flag was changed once again, this time back to the black-red-yellow of Germany. As we approached the Northern beaches of the island of Rügen, we passed through a fleet of yachts and picked up the red and green buoys of the approach channel through the Hiddensee towards Barhöft. On the way in, Mate spotted several vessels at anchor and we opted to join them rather than squeeze into a tight berth in this small and busy harbour. Just 12 hours from departure, we had another 65M under my keel, and I was lying peacefully in a beautiful spot just South of Böck Island in the Western Pomerania Lagoon Area National Park.

The wrong wind

Thursday 10 May

After the effort of taking me sailing for just one afternoon (and maybe the accumulation of the last two weeks’ hard labour), today was designated a rest day.  In any case, the plan is to go South, back to Germany, to pick up our cruise plan, and the wind forecast for today puts it on my nose all day, whereas tomorrow it’s meant to be from the NW, which will give us a comfortable reach…we’ll see.

The day began warm and calm, so the crew went for a stroll to check out the facilities, and Mate had her first paddle in the Baltic, along a pristine beach of white sand.  The rest of the day was spent quietly reading and sewing, enjoying the sunshine and listening to the wind blow, ease, blow, and die away completely. During an evening stroll through the nature reserve into the village, in quite sultry warm still conditions, Mate spotted forked lightning from a thunderstorm away to the South.  Sure enough, just as they got home, the wind filled suddenly from the South with a fierce rainstorm – but fortunately no more destructive lightning.

New day, new country

Wednesday 9 May

The only remaining urgent matter is to obtain diesel, as my tanks are close to empty for sailing purposes. The yacht harbour across the way was happy to take our card, but no fuel was forthcoming, so we motored across the bay to Brøndby, where Skipper very impressively manoeuvred me into a berth just long enough, alongside the fuel quay. A kind local explained the vagaries of this pump: self service, but only if you understand how – no instructions displayed, not even in Danish.

Due to the price (VAT is 25% here), only one tank was filled, but this was just as well as we had to make a quick getaway to avoid a yacht being craned into the water just where I was moored. Not only was the morning’s goal fulfilled, it also proved a useful exercise in looking at neighbouring harbours, for where we might come back to in August, to spend more time in Copenhagen with a distinguished guest. The city marinas are prohibitively expensive, and the two we visited today are not large; so far Ishøy’s looking favourite – it’s attractive, friendly and comfortable.

Having escaped our berth of the last two weeks, my crew was determined to find somewhere new for tonight, but with only the afternoon available it had to be reasonably close…so we went to Sweden. Just 21M across Copenhagen Bay, past the Øresund Bridge and wind farm, lies the small port of Skänør, on the edge of an area of nature reserve. It was already busy by the time we arrived, and the visitors’ berths were occupied by a large work boat. Fortunately a friendly local guided us to the last available box large enough for me, and several helpful yachties helped us in: we still haven’t quite got the hang of ‘Baltic berthing’. We were soon settled and supper served.

Much work, little news

Tuesday 1 -Tuesday 8 May

Another Tuesday, another storm: it’s probably just as well maypole dancing doesn’t seem to be a Danish custom, as the wind is far too strong again and the ribbons would get in an awful knot. It is, however, another national holiday: this time for hourly paid workers…while ‘white collar’ employees go to work as normal. Meanwhile, Skipper’s work continues – and without payment, other than the satisfaction of not having to pay someone else to do it.

In summary, my binnacles and all their fittings were thoroughly drenched by the hose, to determine the point(s) of water ingress, and all the holes plugged with copious amounts of filler and retested for impregnability, before the steering gearboxes were refitted: once he realised the factory had put the lid labelled ‘port’ onto the ‘starboard’ gearbox – even when he was standing watching the engineer and asked specifically if they were the right way around – lost in translation? Of course, the bolt that caused trouble in the removal of the starboard box encouraged its twin to be equally difficult in the re-installation of the port box, but this time Skipper was ready for it, and there are now two newly fashioned mounting plates in position.

If you are reading this with a technical hat on, he is considering how best to create a ‘dyke’ near the top of each steering column, to draw away any future incoming dampness from these sensitive pieces of equipment to relative innocuity in the bilges.

Next, Jeanny my autopilot friend went back home, with a lot less time and effort, and finally the heating system’s fan unit was rebuilt and re-installed. As always, Skipper worked tirelessly to get me back in good sailing order so we can resume our cruise as soon as possible; the only ‘new’ job outstanding is waiting for a calm day, so he can go up the mast to remove the failed wind indicator to assess the damage, and order the parts required for its repair. Meanwhile, my crew will have to revert to sailing the old-fashioned way – by feeling the wind, and watching the water surface.

In case it sounds like Mate has been standing by idle all this time, let me assure you she hasn’t: she keeps the ‘magic hand’ appearing at regular intervals with sustenance from the galley, deals with multiple batches of laundry, and devotes every spare moment to her current needlework project. In between, my cockpit table cover and sprayhood, both rather greener than red, were removed, thoroughly scrubbed and re-waterproofed.

They did both disappear one morning, along with their four wheels – Daisy and her brother – allegedly to replenish provisions. I did notice, however, that Skipper returned alone, and Mate arrived much later, with less hair and pretty feet. Shipshape, if not seamanlike.

The weather gods seem to have finished training their juniors and it’s settled to warm sunny days and stunning sunsets. Probably sunrises as well, but nobody stirs that early these days.