What's in a Name?

 

Stargazer waits patiently beneath the somnolent crane. First in line, for her annual lift, once it can be reawakened, from hibernation, by Taylor the Yard Boss. The sun smiles demurely from a sky filled, only moments earlier, with stinging hailstones. Propelled by a mischievous north-east wind.

Stargazer's trip, around from her berth, is lent extra purpose by the arrival of our ticket to a summer in the south. In the form of the, much hoped for, French Visa de Long Sejour. 

Before Stargazer may set sail, through the Raz de Seine and into Biscay, the rites of spring must first be performed. On shore. Engine maintenance, hull polishing, antifouling and anode replacement. Along with a little plastic surgery:

The time has come to restore the sun-faded gel coat, of Stargazer's blue stripes, to their darkly-lustrous former glory. Using vinyl. Taking the opportunity to lift her looks still further, with a new font for her name.

I immerse myself in an Aladdin's Cave, of possibilities on DaFont.com and FontSpace.com.

None is quite perfect, but Tropican comes close. I email a suggestion to Gwen, who is to do the work.

She proves to be, if not the genie of the lamp, a genius in matters vinyl and grants my cartographic wish. With this compelling computer generated render. 

A period of dry weather, with day time temperatures above ten degrees, is now required.

Hanging in the Balance.

 An ember of spring glows from within the wan winter sunlight. The barges huddle, cloaked against the chill air, beside Faversham's Standard Quay.

Waiting, with an irridescent mallard drake and his overshadowed mate, for the return of the tide. Perched upon castles of unctuous East Coast ooze, moated by soupy silt laden rivulets.

In the square, market day shoppers luxuriate in warming pools of sunshine. As I perform the first ritual of a new season : the collection of Stargazer's sails. Freshly valeted in Wilkinson's loft.

At the Scotline Quay, on the Medway, a newly arrived coaster is relieved of her burden. As the busy crane delves, into her lucky-dip hold, the ship rises from the river. The red band, of visible antifouling, broadening in time to the burgeoning of the stack of crates atop the wharf.

Stargazer's EPIRB (Emergency Position Indicating Radio Beacon) rescue beacon is delivered. Of the latest generation, it is able to communicate with the Galileo as well as GPS positioning satellites (for greater coverage) ;  incorporates an AIS transmitter (for greater accuracy) ; and displays a confirmation that any distress transmission has been received (for reassurance, in the event of an emergency). 

It fits into an un-trafficked, but quickly accessible space, on the bulkhead aft of Stargazer's galley. Within easy reach of the companionway. Replacing a pocket sized PLB (Personal Locator Beacon) with a now expired battery and, even in its prime, inferior capabilities.

The replacement for the replacement domestic water pump (which was damaged in transit) also arrives. In the thirteen years, since the original pump was fitted, the model has been redesigned. Growing taller in the process. Necessitating some modifications, in order to achieve a satisfactory installation.

The ember of spring glows brighter now. The sun grows stronger. The days longer.

I journey, by train, into London, to present my case for a French long stay (six month) visa. Stargazer's ticket to a summer of seaborne exploration, in the Golfe de Gascogne.

Bullrushes nod outside the TLS (visa agent's) offices. Within, the scrutiny, of my documents, is far more rigorous than was last year's. First the desk officer summons her supervisor, then she her manager. The debate ranges back and forth, between the four of us, for half an hour. We appear united by a desire, to coax my anomalous round-peg application through a regulatory square hole (designed for those with fixed terrestrial French addresses; and who are either employed or drawing a pensions, not floating betwixt the two).

Eventually, all the boxes, on the application screening checklist, are ticked. The visa application is to be forwarded, to the French embassy, for consideration.  The fate of Stargazer's summer cruise hangs in the balance.

 Picture Credits

EPIRB schematic courtesy of  OceanSignal.com

For the Record

 

Charles Caudrelier streaks, foil borne, across the Atlantic, aboard the ULTIM 'Edmond de Rothschild' (also known as 'Gitana 17).' Setting a new course record of six days, nineteen hours and forty seven minutes.

Throughout October 2022 a mighty fleet had assembled, before the city walls, in the Breton corsair stronghold of St Malo. For the 'Route du Rhum Destination Guadeloupe.' A solo dash, from one side of the ocean to the other, in winter. Multis and monos. Old and new. One hundred and thirty eight craft. Intent on a win.

Trimarans have dominated, since the very first edition, in 1978. Then, the pioneering Mike Birch made history aboard his radical, sunburst yellow, twelve metre tri, 'Olympus Photo.' Beating Michel Malinovsky's, twenty metre mono, 'Kriter V,' to down the victor's rum punch. Dawn herald to the day of multihull offshore speed record supremacy.

First mono home, this year, was Thomas Ruyant's IMOCA 60, 'Linked Out.' Five full days behind Caudrelier. Ruyant had inexorably reeled in arch rival Charlie Dalin, aboard Apivia, who took an early lead. Only to lose it amid the labyrinthine calms and shifts of the Doldrums. Dalin and Ruyant, and their respective craft, both salt-seasoned veterans of the last Vendee Globe race.

Jeremie Beyou’s IMOCA ‘Charal 2,’ was not far behind. Freshly launched, and yet to be fully worked up, the boat is the brainchild of Sam Manuard's fertile imagination. Sporting a moderate interpretation of his trademark scow bow, combined with a revolutionary rudder design. The blades are heavily splayed, to promote level flight. Circumventing the IMOCA class ban on the use of rudder 'T' foils. Thinking which is unique (for now) within the fleet (as was Manuard’s scow bow, for ‘L’Ocitaine en Provence,’ in the last Vendée Globe).

First home, of the Class 40's, was Yoann Richomme. Who played the proverbial cat, to many a mid fleet IMOCA’s pigeon. Aboard his small(er) and simple(r) craft. (No foils, daggerboards, rotating masts or deck spreaders; carbon sail count capped to two). 

He follows in the giant slaying, foot steps of Mike Birch.  The free thinking ocean spirit who ushered in a high speed era of ,wave skimming, offshore innovation. Ripping up the rule book, of received nautical wisdom. Born 1.11.1931, died 26.10.2022.

Picture Credits

ULTIM Edmond de Rothschild courtesy of Agence France-Presse (AFP)

ULTIMs in St Malo courtesy of Eloi Stichelbaut

Mike Birch aboard Olympus Photo courtesy of Christian Fevrier

Thomas Ruyant aboard Linked Out courtesy of  Pierre Bouras

Sam Manuard's creative Charal design courtesy of  Elodie Allaire

Yoann Richomme romps to Class 40 victory courtesy of  Vincent Olivaud

Mike Birch helms Fujifilm, in 1999, courtesy of Nicholas le Corre Gamma-Rapho via Getty Images