Making Ready 5

 

Across the chill river, dinghies dice. Dueling in the Wilsonian Sailing Club frostbite series.

The hardy fleet rig up ashore. Launching from trolleys with padded cradles, which protect the slippery smooth hulls from shingle scratches. Preserving their racing edge.

For craft which remain continually afloat, the task, of minimising hull drag, does not only depend on a fair hull. It also requires a defense against weed and algal growth . If speed sapping water resistance is to be kept in check.

Over the past twelve years, Stargazer's annual coatings of antifouling have built up. With some areas now beginning to flake. The resulting uneven surface causing turbulence and lending marine organisms a potential toe hold.

In order to restore it, to its sleek former self, the hull must be scraped back, to glassfibre. It is a shoulder aching task. Like eating the proverbial elephant (or Christmas feast), best tackled in bite sized chunks.

A run of cool clear winter days prove ideally suited to scraping stints.

Then comes the sanding. Required to fully remove all accumulations of antifouling and primer.

Beneath, Stargazer's hull proves to be as smooth as a racing dinghy's bottom. No filling or fairing will be required.

However four consecutive days (and nights) above ten degrees centigrade are needed, in order for three coats of International Gelshield epoxy primer to cure, before fresh antifouling can be applied . Unless we are lucky, with a mild spell, this is a job which will have to wait, for the first warming breaths of spring, to complete.

Saxon Shore 5 : “I Saw Three Ships. . . . .”

 

"What will become of us?" Snowman titters nervously, hand on chin. Staring up at the sheer stone walls, of Chatham’s Dock Basin Number Two. Borne into the water unceremoniously, from a back garden grotto, by the force of storm Barra.

"We’ll be all right," guffaws Santa, in his booming 'ho-ho-ho' voice. "Let's swim over there ." He gestures firmly, with a raised left arm, as a swirl of current carries them down the dock . "I can see the children on the quayside . They’ve come to carry us home for Christmas.” 

 

Reassured, that a rescue is safely underway, I climb into the car. Venturing further from home than normal, for my Saxon Shore walk. Two hours later arriving in Suffolk. At Shotley Point, where the cocoa coloured waters of the Orwell and Stour meet. It is still hang-on-to-your-hat windy.

A bluff bowed Fisher Freeward 25 motor sailer, heels to the aftermath of the gale. Butting seaward through the chop. Over on the Felixstowe quayside, two diminutive tugs battle the breeze, to wrestle a world girdling behemoth in, beneath the waiting cranes.

Containers, filled with Christmas gifts from the East, are piled high on her decks. Adding to the windage of her salt stained hull. Deftly, the tugs tuck the giant ship between two others of her, ocean wandering, kind.

Ahead, an Evergreen-line ship, a sister to the ill-fated, Suez-Canal-blocking Ever Given, is already safely alongside. Whilst a gleaming red lightship, freshly repainted, and ready to be towed back to her station, swings at a mid river mooring. Marking the turn of the tide.

On the Harwich shore, Patricia, the Trinity House maintenance vessel, is moored beneath the spire of the cathedral. Distinctive 'lobster claw' derrick poised, above the refurbished yellow spar buoy, which is secured in her waist. Ready to place it precisely, at its charted co ordinates, once back on station.

The winter wind is keen. It funnels up the river Orwell. I think better of my plan to walk along its shore, to Pin Mill. Instead setting out, along a wooded path, on the more sheltered banks of the river Stour. Heading into Constable country.

Gulls ride the buffeting updraughts, at the water’s edge. Soaring and circling. The roar of the wind fills my ears. The tide is falling. Allowing me to drop down onto the foreshore. Following it deep into Edwarton Bay.

I round a corner. Before me, is a mass gathering of wigeon. Some swimming busily in the rills. Others dozing, heads cradled in their wing feathers. Warming in the midday sun. . . .

. . . . . their distinctive pale forehead blazes on display. I settle above the wild duck, seated on the sea wall, in the shelter of the windbreak woodland. Drinking a flask of coffee and eating a fruity wedge of Christmas cake; thickly marzipanned and richly fragrant with brandy.  Listening to the piping of animated avian conversation; and to the carefree, rippling, chuckle of the ebbing river.

Making Ready 4 : making sail

 Stargazer's mainsail is the twelve year old original. It has outlived two jibs. But now it is beginning to lose its shape. The time has come to commission a replacement. There are three decisions to take : What sailcloth to use, what construction to employ and who to make it?

 The choice of sailcloth breaks down into three options: moulded, laminate or woven. 

Moulded sails were pioneered by North Sails, under the 3Di brand name. This process lays load bearing fibres, aligned along the stress paths of the sail, over a three dimensional mould. This mould is specific to the sail being produced and determines its 'flying' aerofoil shape. The web of fibres is locked into position with a flexible resin before being heat cured. The end result is a low stretch lightweight sail. Durability is superior to that of laminates, but (almost certainly) inferior to that of wovens. I say 'almost certainly' because this technology is relatively young. Stargazer's berth neighbour, Reefer X, a hard raced X-99, invested in a full suit of 3Di three years ago. I am watching their longevity with interest. Two downsides which are known with certainty are : high price; and that repairs and winter maintenance are a specialist matter. Requiring a trip to the single UK North loft, on the South Coast. 

Laminate sailcloth is the forerunner to one piece moulded sails. In a laminate, load bearing fibres are sandwiched between two layers of mylar scrim and then glued. A wear and ultraviolet (sunlight) resistant taffeta is then stuck to the outer surfaces of this core. The end result is a low stretch membrane, which is cut into panels and assembled into a sail. The weight is higher than that of a moulded sail. But then the cost is around a third lower. The achilles heel of laminates is durability. One of Stargazer's jibs was laminate. It set beautifully, right up to the point when, at three years old, it delaminated. An experience which I know to be typical. Minor damage, to laminate sails, can be readily repaired on board, or by a sailmaker. But once the glue fails, and 'hernias' (splits) appear in the Mylar scrim, 'all the king's horses and all the kings men. . . [cannot]. . . put Humpty together again.'

Woven sailcloth has its roots in the fabric panels which drove the Viking longships. Those were made of flax (low stretch but prone to rot and laborious to produce) or wool (rot resistant, but heavy and liable to stretch). Much progress has been made, over the subsequent millennia, in a quest for the sailmaker's holy grail. A cloth which combines: low stretch, high durability, light weight and affordability, 

Dacron has universally replaced natural yarns. It is what Stargazer's current main (pictured above, double reefed) is made from. Wovens score well on all parameters, bar stretch. Weight is similar to that of laminates. Cost is lower than either laminate or moulded. Even quite major repairs can be carried out by almost anyone, anywhere. So far as durability is concerned, a woven cloth is the least susceptible to damage, be that by abrasion, ultraviolet or flogging in the wind. However, vulnerability to stretch means that a woven sail’s flying shape is never as stable, as that of the two more modern technologies, and deteriorates further, as it ages. Although its failure mode is a loss shape, rather than disintegration. A significant advantage to a cruising boat on passage.

But a predisposition to stretch is a fundamental failing for a sailcloth. Fortunately, there is a family of  'twenty first century' woven sailcloths, which address the stability shortcomings of Dacron wovens, whilst retaining, in large part, their other benefits. This is through the inclusion of, ultra low stretch, Dynema fibres in the weave. Hydranet Radial (pictured above) is a proprietary Dacron based cloth, produced by Dimension Polyant, and stabilised, along the diagonal, with Dynema.  

 Vectran, now woven by three manufacturers (Dimension Polyant, Contender and Bainbridge), takes a similar approach, but is stabilised along the horizontal axis. Costs are nudging up toward those of laminate cloths. Physical durability is on a par with conventional wovens, or better. Shape stability is a little short of laminates, but far superior to that of Dacron wovens.. Weight is similar. Repairability is as good as for a standard woven.

 These cloths seem to me to be the sailcloth sweet spot for the cruising sailor. Stargazer's current jib (now five years old and still setting well) is in Hydranet Radial. 

One last question remains, before a decision, on cloth type for Stargazer's new mainsail, can be finalised: That of the sail's construction. This is because the different Dynema reinforced wovens are optimised for specific construction methods.

 Leaving aside one piece moulded sails, there are two constructions: 'radial' and 'crosscut.' This Falmouth Working Boat, beating majestically off her mooring, has a crosscut main and a radial jib. The terms referring to the panel layout.

Both constructions take panels of cloth (woven or laminate) and join them, to produce a sail with an aerofoil shape when hoisted. This three dimensional shape is created by cutting adjacent panels with a curve, to the edges along which they meet. The luff (front edge) of the resulting sail is also built with a curve. Thereby forcing more shape into the sail, when this elliptical edge is is attached to the straight(er) mast. (A crosscut sail is shown above).

Due to the more complex panel layout, of a radial cut sail (pictured above), more shape can be dialed into it, than into one that is crosscut. The two constructions also differ in how the loads within the sail are carried. Again, the radial sail has the advantage. Its panel design gives the sailmaker a greater ability to align the, low stretch, warp of the cloth with the load, so as to maximise stability. In terms of cost, crosscut construction regains some lost ground. With fewer seams and significantly less cloth wastage, a crosscut sail is typically three quarters of the price of an equivalent radial cut sail.

Stargazer's jib is high aspect ratio, like the Falmouth Working Boat's: tall, narrow, and highly loaded. Radial construction is therefore required. Hydranet Radial (as the name suggests) is optimised for this panel layout. It was therefore the clear choice. 

Stargazer's mainsail has a lower aspect ratio (is wider for its height). Additionally the sail is supported by, not only the mast and boom, but also by four full length battens. It is therefore subject to lower loadings, than the jib. These characteristics suit a crosscut construction, for which Vectran is optimised. 

All Vectrans are not created equal, however. The Dimension Polyant and Contender Vectrans look similar, with a 'pinstripe' of Dynema fibres running across the sail (see the picture above the Falmouth Working Boat). Whereas the Bainbridge HSX-V version of Vectran distributes the Dynema in a more even, 'rip-stop' (or grid), pattern (picture above). To my mind, this offers the potential for greater panel stability. Decisions one and two are made: Stargazer's new main will be of crosscut construction in Bainbridge HSX-V.

That leaves decision number three. Who is to make Stargazer's new sail?  This project has been eighteen months in gestation. Giving plenty of opportunity to ponder the options, and to visit lofts, whilst Stargazer has cruised. My shortlist includes: an internationally reputed 'big name,' a nationally known loft, and a Kent based artisan sailmaker.

 I contact North Sails. Head quartered in the USA, and represented around the globe, this is probably the most prestigious, and technically innovative, sail brand in the world. Perhaps unsurprisingly, they prove something of a corporate juggernaut to deal with. There is very much a North process, to which a customer must conform, in order to proceed with order placement. One of my great joys, in retirement, is the freedom from any whiff of compliance with corporate whim. Making this a travelator on which I am reluctant to embark.  I am also deterred by the discovery that North sails are made, out of sight, offshore, in (low wage?) Sri-Lanka. Although, naturally, they come with a considerable price premium. After all, North has, legitimately, to recover their investment in technical research and brand marketing. Maybe, were I in the market for a suit of 3Di, selecting North would be worth these compromises. But not for, more widely available, panel built woven sails. 

Whilst on Stargazer's 'Out of Lockdown' shakedown cruise, I visit OneSails on the Orwell. Sailmaker to Pip Hare's 2019 Vendee Globe campaign. Over coffee, loft manager Brian asks me all the right questions. He offers candid advice too: "Glue and string' (laminate and moulded) sails don't have the durability for your needs. . . . . .Look, I can build you a lovely crosscut main. But I can build you a beautiful radial main. . . . . .Only you can decide if its worth the extra. . . . . ." Sails are made on the premises. OneSails, through their sister company Evolution Rigging, could also take on the replacement of Stargazer's standing and running rigging. Although this would require her to over winter ninety (road) miles away, across the infamous Dartford Crossing, in Suffolk. 

Alan and Sarah, of Wilkinson Sails provide the artisan option. They have demonstrated a high level of support, since Stargazer moved to Chatham. Carrying out running repairs, winter sails valeting and replacing Stargazer’s sprayhood, with one of an ingeniously improved design. We discuss options, whilst Stargazer is back in Chatham, and I await my second covid jab, before departing for Scilly. Delving into the minutiae of cringle and batten box designs, the most suitable batten cross sections; as well as matters of cloth and construction . Alan, cuts sails on the varnished wooden floor of his loft, at the head of Faversham Creek. It transpires that he could pick up Stargazer's rigging work, if I were willing to have her lifted during his winter slack period. Our conversation continues by e mail, as Stargazer sails south. By the time we drop anchor in the Helford river, Wilkinson Sails has our order.

Footnote: To discover more, about the Viking Longships, click here to reach the website of the Viking Ship Museum, in Roskilde, Denmark. It describes how the museum has reconstructed, and sailed, Viking (trading and war) craft, in their mission to shed light, on the achievements and sophistication, of the seafaring civilisation which built them. 

Picture Credits:

1,5,8,12,13,15    Me

2                         North Sails

3,14                    OneSails

4                         Roskilde Viking Ship Museum

6,7                      Dimension-Polyant

9,10                    Challenge Sailcloth

11                       Bainbridge              

Making Ready 3

 

I peel off my wooly hat, anorak and fleece. Warmed by the work of loading Stargazer's sixteen kilo Delta anchor and fifty metres of eight millimetre chain into a trolley. And by the, steadily ascending, winter morning sun. I am in the one corner of the, otherwise gravel, boat park, where the original eighteenth century granite flags, of the Chatham Naval Dockyard, survive. They make an ideal work surface, for the first project of the day.

This anchor and rode saw us safely through the sustained seventy mile an hour winds of storm Evert (An English Summer 56). A storm which missed classification as a hurricane by only four miles per hour. Anchored off Bryher, the following morning, I vowed to reward the ground tackle, which had kept us secure throughout the long night, with a full winter makeover. 

I start by removing the shackle which connects the anchor to the chain. Despite its rusted, and somewhat 'necked' outward appearance, the pin proves to have plenty of sound metal within. And requires a change of hacksaw blades to sever it. 

I intend to end-for-end the chain: This is because the end nearest the anchor takes the greatest wear, from the sea bed. Its protective galvanising is visibly worn smooth and thin, with freckles of rust  beginning to form (left hand of picture). Whereas, at the bitter-end (the end secured to the boat), the coating is still as thick, white and rough to the touch as the day it left the dip tank (right hand of picture).

End-for-ending requires re-marking the rode, at the twenty, thirty and forty metre points. Measured from the new anchor end. In muddy East Coast waters, the yellow twenty metre markers have proved hard to see, through the carapace of silt which often coats them. I am therefore using electric blue markers, at ten metres, and sticking with my familiar green for thirty and red for forty.

Two metres before the bitter end I insert one marker of each colour, to remind me to stop paying out . The chain is tied into the boat with a light line (so that, in an emergency, it is easy to 'cut loose') but the consequences of accidentally paying the entire run of chain out and that line failing, allowing the rode to go over the side, are very serious indeed. Best therefore to stop the windlass with some chain still engaged in the gypsy.

I thread-lock (glue) the pin of the new anchor shackle and bind it with monel seizing wire, to prevent it undoing; until, after a season's use, corrosion can take over that task for good.

Finally, I flake the fettled anchor and chain down, onto a pallet placed directly beneath Stargazer's bow roller. Ready to bring aboard at relaunch time. Whilst she is ashore, it will give her an easier time to keep the weight off the bow. It will also give Alan better access to service the bearings, of the jib furling drum, which is mounted inside the anchor locker.

Project number two is to replace Stargazer's original Furuno wind, depth and speed instruments. They are working fine, but they are twelve years old and live in a hostile marine environment. They also communicate data via the, now obsolete, NMEA (National Marine Electonics Association) 0183 protocol and cannot therefore interface with modern chart plotters. With Stargazer out of the water (granting easy access to the through hull depth transducer) and her mast down (granting easy access to the mast head wind speed and direction transducers), it makes sense to tackle this project now.

For a couple of hours, Stargazer's neat electrical panel becomes a chaotic snake pit of confusion. I flinch at the steady 'snip, snip, snip' of Paul, the electrician’s, wire cutters. A rain of severed cables, ties and connectors cascades from the cabinet.

Stargazer was built at the watershed between the analogue and digital eras - and has a foot in both camps: She has an EpirBus power switching system (a single ‘ring main’ cable supplying power to all devices aboard, be they lights or instruments. The switching, of these, achieved by programmed commands, sent from soft touch buttons, and transmitted along that same cable). However, her data communication is old school analogue, each transducer or device sending and receiving data via its own set of dedicated cables.

Until now that is. Paul replaces the data spaghetti and the bulky junction boxes with a single N2K (NMEA 2000 protocol) digital backbone, along which all data, for all devices, will flow. 

The twenty five metre run of data cable, to the masthead, is also removed. (Whilst Paul works aboard Stargazer, his colleague, Rich, is renewing the twelve year old wiring for lights, transducers and vhf, in the mast). Stargazer’s new wind transducers will relay their information, via a radio link.

On deck, the crisp new digital displays glow futuristically. Each is configurable to show any data source on the boat. 

Whilst admiring his handiwork, I mention to Paul that it is difficult to steer a compass course at night, if our course falls on a red sector of the card. The backlight is red, which renders the white numbers red, and thus illegible against a red background. To my eyes, at any rate. Paul swiftly dismantles the compass, makes one last 'snip,' and replaces its red LED backlight with a white. It illuminates the compass card to, a clearly legible, perfection. The cherry on the electronic upgrade cake.

The sun is setting as I walk homeward, skirting the dock . I am imagining sailing beneath star filled skies . Navigating by softly lit instruments, to anchor off beaches of white sand . The breathy lap, of sea on shore, echoing from tall cliffs of craggy granite.