Zen Again 9

 

Now that the North Foreland is rounded, Stargazer has several days of fair tide before her. We can afford to wait, for a breeze. Still and sunny, today is a shorts-and-polo-shirt foretaste of summer. Better suited to drying the washing, and in port lounging, than to passage making.

An opportunity to honour Roger's invitation (six months after he issued it) for an end of season catch up, aboard Catinou. Missed, in our zeal, to carry a fair tide, back into the Medway, last autumn.

The calm weather also allows investigation, of an autopilot alarm, which triggered on arrival. I had hoped that it would prove a "one off." Alas it is still there, when I test energise the system, the next morning. The compass appears to have reversed polarity. Psi Paul talks me through a reset procedure, by phone. I circle Stargazer, off the breakwater, to 're-swing' the electronic compass. It informs me that it has "successfully compensated for the earth's magnetic field." Which seems a positive development. I cross my fingers and return Stargazer to her berth.

A satisfying calm settles. Born from observing the industry of others. Border Force patrols, wind farm support cats, pilot boats, the RNLI, the fishing fleet and leisure sailors bustle energetically about the harbour.

Zen Again 8

 

The smouldering embers, of sunset, crown a wave-washed, whistle-wind day. Above Ramsgate harbour's sparsely populated pontoons.

Stargazer's shortened sail had arrived at 09.30. After overnight surgery, by Alan and Sarah. By 10.00 we were in Chatham lock. By 10.15, beating purposefully down the Medway.

We catch the turn of the tide, at Garrison Point. Stargazer powering through the wind over tide swell. Her sights set on the North Foreland.

The breeze may be icy, under today's steely skies, but it is out of the north east. Blowing twenty to twenty four knots.

Giving us a ground speed of seven to eight knots. And, enabling Stargazer to thread the Copperas Channel, to lay the Foreland, in one, day-long, board.

We turn south, off North Foreland. Putting the wind astern. As Stargazer flattens, and her motion eases, I bolt below, to boil the kettle, for a warming pot of coffee, and gobble a sustaining hot crossed bun.

Less than an hour later, our lines are taken, by the crew of Bon Vent, out of Blankenberge. Stargazer lies snug beneath the granite walls of Ramsgate harbour. Watching windswept walkers scurry by, above. Savouring a passage well made. On the last of the fair wind and tide combinations, of this lunar cycle.

Zen Again 7

Alan and Sarah return, with Stargazer's jib halyard. A new eye freshly swaged into its end. Alan winches Sarah up the mast. She posts the halyard, weighted with a length of bicycle chain, into the sheave (pulley) box. After a little persuasion, it reappears at the foot of the mast.

Stargazer's jib is swiftly rehoisted. At which point Sarah identifies the cause of the halyard snapping. The failure was a clean break immediately above the copper ferule. Indicative of a load being applied at an oblique angle. With the sail (new last year) at full hoist, it is clear that the ferule pulls into the sheave box. Creating an oblique pull. To avoid a recurrence, of yesterday's technical hitch, the sail must be shortened.

 

Zen Again 6

 

Stargazer's foam flecked gallop, toward the North Foreland, is brought to an abrupt halt.

When the jib halyard parts and her foresail tumbles to the deck. 

There is nothing for it, but to turn and run before the wind, under mainsail only. Stargazer's deck now flat. The apparent wind reduced. Enabling me to recover the sail and lash it to the rail.

As well as to puzzle over what has just happened. It seems that the, two year old, halyard has parted at the swage. The eye left dangling, like a pendant earing, from the furler top swivel.

Unencumbered by the sail, the hayard has fallen, out of the mast, to the deck. Under the impetus of gravity and wave motion. Where it has neatly coiled itself.

Stargazer retraces her steps. Back into the Medway. Her skipper's spirits rising, following a phonecall, to Alan, of Wilkinson sails. Who can meet us at Chatham Naval Dockyard. To collect, and remake, the errant halyard. With a view to his wife, Sarah, climbing the mast, to re-reeve it, tomorrow.

Zen Again 5

 

A brisk easterly breeze blows in, from the Siberian steppe. Crisp and cleansing. Icicles yet upon its breath, despite the best endeavours, of the April sun, to thaw them.

The wind is forecast to strengthen further, as the weekend approaches; and the tide turns fair, for a passage down-Channel.

Once round North Foreland, an east wind would provide a speedy reach south. At the price of a, wind over tide, beat out from the Medway.

From Saturday, Stargazer's pre-dawn forecast watch is to be resumed. The new sailing season is upon us!

Zen Again 4

 

Cherry blossom sunbathes, beside the path, which leads to Boyce’s the bakers. At the foot of Gillingham high street. Where a large wholemeal farmhouse loaf, and a half dozen hot crossed buns, await me. Along with uplifting banter, on a random topic of the day, to further brighten the morning.

I roam restlessly between Stargazer, the house, and the local shops. Like a honey bee, drawn from its hive by the spring warmth. Moving from bloom to delicately fragrant bloom, sampling their wares. I fetch forgotten charge cables, gather in overlooked provisions, work the washer-drier overtime and gorge on high speed broadband.

From the Historic Craft pontoon, astern of Stargazer, the world-girdling thirty-six footer, Lively Lady, looks on, serenely. Aboard her, Sir Alec Rose circumnavigated, in 1967. During a golden decade, for pioneering, solo, ocean sailors: Moitessier, Knox-Johnston, Chichester, Rose, Tabarly et al.

Zen Again 3

 

"El Toro," The Bull; Nigel Mansell's nom de guerre, in his Formula 1 racing prime. The name, too, of the red Sunseeker gifted to him, by a grateful team Ferrari. The boat which lies across the pontoon, from Stargazer. As the sun sets, in the peace of a spring evening. 

On Friday, Simon persuaded Stargazer’s two missing bell housing bolts into position. A feat which required some ingenuity. Buried as they are in the bilge, with pipework running above them. Restricting both visibility and access.

Only with the aid of a magnet, and a flexible socket drive, did they succumb to Simon's powers of mechanical persuasion. (Brochure shot)

Cue the return of Stargazer's saloon, to a habitable condition. The three dimensional jigsaw puzzle, which is the stowing of longlife provisions, has begun.

Zen Again 2

 

The spring equinox is upon us. With clear blue skies and warm sunshine. Stargazer's sails are quickly bent on. But, there progress, toward 'cast off day,' stalls. During the reassembly, of engine and saildrive, Simon had picked up two issues. Both requiring parts: The gear linkage pin.....

......and two bolts which (should) attach the engine to the gearbox. It appears that these have been missing, since the engine was replaced, in 2019. When Simon returned, bolts in hand, earlier this week, the probable reason, for their ommission, became clear. The bolts, as specified in the manual, are too long to fit into the gap between engine and gearbox. (Because, as standard, there is a 'spacer' between the two. Not present in Stargazer's installation). Simon also discovered that he had left the new gear linkage, 'on the bench,' in Brighlingsea (fifty miles away).

Stargazer's saloon therefore remains crowded with stores......

......and spares. Which are destined for Stargazer's aft cabin. Once the engine and saildrive access panels can be reinstated.

Meanwhile, sun-soaked day dreaming, in Stargazer's cockpit, is the order of the day. Punctuated by coffee powered conversation, as boating friends emerge from hibernation. 

Zen Again

 

There is one last refit job to complete, aboard Stargazer. Polishing her blue hull stripe. It was today's task. Until a cancelled lift brought a hail, from 'Wayne the crane.' "We can get you in now, if you like." The offer, of an early relaunch, is too good an opportunity to miss.

Half an hour later, I am crouched in the engine bay. Stargazer now afloat. But with the crane slings still in place. In case of water ingress through the new saildrive diaphragm. All is well. I emerge through the companionway, to give a thumbs up to the yard crew.

The roaring crane motor falls silent. Ripples lap musically against the hull. Stargazer tugs gently at her lines. Liberated from the dusty yard. In her element once more. Testing her freedom. Her skipper scurries the deck. Re rigging the backstay; setting up lines and fenders; test running the, newly reassembled, engine. Basking in the spring sunshine.

Back on our berth, I break out the coffee pot. Settled in Stargazer's cockpit, I contemplate our good fortune. Savouring this settled start to spring. Picturing wave-riven cliffs, open horizons and Atlantic shores. Feeling Zen again.

 

Shifting Sands 4

 

Unseasonably glorious weather brings the river to life. Turning the, oft turbid, Medway waters sky blue. Dinghy spinnakers blossom bright. Before bare, bank-side, branches have had time to clad themselves in green.

Yet, over a Sunday pint in The Pier, or out on the low water landing, talk is not of our remarkable weather. Instead, extraordinary events, of another kind, monopolise conversation.

The 'new sheriff,’ has taken inspiration from Lewis Carroll's 'Through the Looking Glass.' Fake has become fact, vice is versa; allies are adversaries; and an elected president is deemed a dictator. The USA has turned Red Queen, and is leading Europe (become Alice) a merry dance, across a chaotically reordered political chess board. Whilst threatening the sovereignty of Ukraine, Canada, Panama, Denmark and Greenland.

With spinning head, Stargazer's skipper makes hay whilst the sun shines. Retreating into a familiar boatyard bubble. Speeding through her refit jobs list, sporting short sleeves and a sun hat. Negotiations are now underway, with the long suffering 'Wayne the crane,' to bring our relaunch date forward, from the end of this month. 

Picture Credits

Czar Trumpski: courtesy of Jabari James YouTube

Alice Through The Looking Glass image: courtesy of Ralph Steadman

Shifting Sands 3

Simon, who has the physique of a Springbok prop, bodily lifts Stargazer's engine off its mounts. Wrestling it clear of the saildrive aperture. His apprentice-for-a-day looking on, saucer eyed.

My chance to shine comes, as the freshly liberated gearbox is lowered to the ground. Where Simon has set up a portable workbench.

Once released from compression, it is quickly evident that the diaphragm has fatigued and begun to fail. A split is visible, when Simon flexes the membrane . Stargazer has had a fortunate reprieve, from a watery mishap.

Within the flywheel housing, there are signs that the gearbox oil seal has served its time. The inner surface glistens, with a sheen of atomised oil. Which should not be there.

Whilst the drive leg looks in fine fettle. As it should, after last year's rebuild.

Salt water, seeping in through the split diaphragm, has pitted the alloy casting onto which it seats. Simon suggests that he take the saildrive back, to his Brightlingsea workshop, overnight. Where the casting can be refurbished and the oil seal replaced.

Next morning, Simon sets about reuniting engine, diaphragm, saildrive and gearbox. The latter two, freshly repainted. Leaving the installation as good as, maybe better than, new. 

Across the Atlantic, the 'new sheriff' pummels America's traditional allies, neighbours and trading partners. Whilst playing footsie with a former foe. Disrupting diplomatic mores, worldwide.

Mr Mayagi's "wax on, wax off" technique works wonders. Upon Stargazer's topsides and upon her skipper's Zen level. (Think ‘The Karate Kid,’ if baffled by the preceding two sentences)

Picture Credits

Trump diplomacy. Courtesy of Carlos Osorio / Reuters