Spring Chicken

 

Stargazer, fresh as a new-hatched spring chicken, alights on her berth. Aglow at the prospect of the season's start.

The rain-soaked gloom, of March, is lanced by a shaft of April sunshine, as the yard crew manoeuvre Stargazer within the waiting crane's reach.

Up she rises, in the slings. A quick coat of antifouling is applied, to the bare patches, where the cradle pads supported her hull. Before Stargazer is returned to her element.

My first day's work is to restore order below. Where the contents of the cockpit locker and 'stow cabin’ have been stacked over the winter. To enable easy access for mechanical maintenance and installation work. 

By evening, Stargazer's familiar snug saloon has reemerged from the shambles.

Only to vanish once more, the next day, as I ferry two trolley loads of provisions aboard. And attempt to solve the annual Rubics Cube stowage puzzle.

The following day dawns windless . Ideal conditions in which to bend on the sails.

 With Easter upon us, I find myself like Heracles, fighting the many headed Lernaean Hydra, in my battle with ever emerging job lists: No sooner do I strike a line through one, than two others seem to spring up in its place. 

The prospect of Stargazer's shakedown trip proves to be my figurative Iolaus, with burning sword. My spur to slowly but inexorably vanquish the lists. 

My mind begins to turn to tides and forecasts. To planning an equinoctial East Coast circuit.

A prelude to summer in La Belle France.

The Mysterious Island

 

The vernal equinox passes. Clocks bound forward, into British Summer Time, like spring hares. Lengthening days banish memories of dark winter nights.

 Around Dockyard Basin Number One, daffodils skip and dance, to the rhythm of the breeze.

Out on the river, boats return to their moorings. Against a backdrop of trees, yet to don their summer-green finery.

"I have no name," declares Captain Nemo. Fixing "his penetrating gaze upon. . . . .Cyrus Harding. . . .  as though he were about to annihilate him." (In 'The Mysterious Island,' by Jules Verne).

A fate shared by Stargazer. A mounting indignation shared by me.

Replacement names and decals (see 'To Be Or Not To Be.....?' post) were quickly sourced. From the ever efficient Mark at Funky Monkey graphics and Willie at Transworld Yachts. Both friends since Stargazer's original South Coast launch, in 2010.

But genie Gwen (see What's in a Name? post), who is to reapply them, vanishes in a smoke cloud of excuses and 'prior commitments.'

I negotiate, wait, cajole, wait, re-negotiate, wait and wait. Shorebound. Watching as breaks in the wintery weather become more frequent. Opportunities slipping by. The sailing season beckoning.

I attempt to reconcile myself to a relaunch, with Stargazer cast as Nemo. The boat with no name. My indignation rises, from slow simmer to a steaming boil, that this should be our fate . I sight Gwen, at work on another boat. . . . .

Birds sing and the sun beams benevolently, as Stargazer's dignity is restored. Nemo no more. Ready for relaunch. Ready to discover a Mysterious Island of our own.

"To be, or not to be....."

 

Spring suffuses the February air, as the yard crew clamber aboard Stargazer. Securing the crane slings for her annual lift out.

Taylor awakens the slumbering crane. Snorting and belching black diesel fumes, it utters a gravelly growl, as if clearing its throat. The growl deepens to a roar. The strops quiver, sweating beads of moisture. Stargazer rises skyward.

 I can see that last year's repair, to the saildrive gaiter, has held. And that the Shogun 033 antifouling has served us well. After a year afloat, fouling is confined to a thin film of slime.

The crane's gruff tone softens, to a gentle purr, as it swings Stargazer ashore and tenderly lays her in a cradle.

Throughout March the refit is beset by "the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune :" Unseasonably low temperatures, high winds and high rainfall. Simon completes the engine service. Rich installs a regulator for the water pump (which, although 'equivalent' to the old one turns out to draw fifty percent more current). Polish and fresh antifouling are applied, between showers. Gwen strips Stargazer's names and Hallberg-Rassy decals. This in readiness to overlay the faded gel coat stripes with vinyl, during a suitable weather window.

Stargazer sits forlorn. Shivering in the yard. Shorn of her identity. March ticks by. Launch date approaches. Without sight of the single still, dry day, above ten degrees, which Gwen requires to work her magic. If we persevere with the stripe work, Stargazer's relaunch risks delay."To be, or not to be, that is the question." 

With ten days to go, until launch day, the decision is made. The cosmetic work is "not to be." A timely start to our shakedown cruise, and the summer afloat which it presages, trumps all. 

Thus began this year's ritual 'prelaunch-panic.' In 2021 it was obtaining rudder bearings. In 2022 it was the sourcing of a boom plug. For 2023 it is to be finding exact replacements for Stargazer's names and decals. In order to exactly cover the shadow marks, left by their precipitately peeled predecessors.

With apologies to William Shakespeare for abuse of Hamlet, Act 3, Scene 1

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

 

First Stirrings

 

I clamber, from the sea, refreshed and sit in Stargazer's cockpit, cooling agreeably, as sun and breeze dry my skin. The sound of splashes and playful shrieks drift over, from bathers on the beach. It is mid morning. The temperature swiftly climbing. Soon I will need to find shade, in which to see out the afternoon.

At the head of the bay, perched atop sheer chalk cliffs stand two invitations for exploration. Both offering respite from the full glare of the sun. The sober square keep of the castle of Santa Ana and the airy flying buttresses, of the church of Santa Ana de la Asuncion. I row languidly ashore.

Fond memories of the summer past. . . . . . and first stirrings of wanderlust for the season to come.

Home in Kent the cold snap has passed. But Jack Frost has left his mark. Nipping Stargazer's domestic water pump. Simply replacing the 'O' rings (see Snowman post) did not cure its newfound leak. 

The source was inside the body of the pump. Which must have briefly frozen, on the day that the dock iced over. A replacement pump required, to effect a cure.

Soon the magical misty mornings of spring will be back with us. Beckoning Stargazer seaward.

It is time for me to submit my visa application. That Stargazer might summer on Biscay shores once more.