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.