From Troon to Bangor (and first parking incident)
After that first shakedown cruise to Troon, we felt ready for more serious stuff.
First of August. We had a quiet night in Troon marina, and we set off for our next destination, Bangor, Belfast Lough, Northern Ireland.
We left at 08:00 on the 1rst of August. Getting us and the boat ready to leave always proved to take longer than planned, but was never really a problem. “No stress” was our motto!
One of the lighthouses on the Scottish coast – Can’t remember which!
The sun was out, the sky was clear, everything would have been perfect except… there was no wind.
So we settled for motoring.
Motoring gives you an easy course over ground. Motoring gives you a steady 6 knots speed and keeps the batteries charged up. We had a good reliable motor (Beta 28 HP).
But motoring, besides being noisy and smelly, doesn’t lock the boat heeled on one side like the sails would do. This on China Blue results in a perpetual rolling from side to side, throwing the boat off course every so often, forcing constant attention on the tiller for continuous heading corrections.
If you read, as I did, that long keel boats are stable and follow their course like a train on its rails, well… don’t take it for granted.
Did I mention the autopilot? Well, we had one, that was proudly “offered” by the previous owner. It was an old and already very tempered-with tiller pilot, suited for a 21 to 23 feet boat with light displacement. China Blue is 36 feet long and weighs 12 tons. Besides there was no attachment for it on the piece of scaffold pipe we called the tiller, so we forgot about the autopilot.
The motor
Motoring is not what a sailing boat is meant for.
Motoring is boring.
This observation was to be verified all along our voyage, much more often than we would have wanted.
But motoring we did, down the nice Scottish coast, past Girvan, Ballantrae, Loch Ryan. Magic names to me. The sky was still blue, but wind against tide conditions started to build up, making our progression more rolly.
At around 15:00, abeam Corsewall Point, we altered course to leave the Scottish coast and head directly for Bangor, some 30 miles across the North Channel.
Very rapidly, the sea state got rougher. The waves were confused, the short swell was hitting us directly on portside. China Blue was pitching and rolling, yawing from side to side, loosing course at every wave, demanding strong efforts on the tiller to point it back where we wanted, waiting for the next hit.
We noticed the tiller was developping a nasty play around the rudder shaft, adding more stress in steering the boat.
Things could be better…
John and I have strong arms. We took that for the next 5 hours to Bangor. In fact, John insisted to hold the tiller for most of the crossing. I have an idea why: I was down inside, busy trying to fix… the toilet pump!
We arrived knackered.
Planning a passage is of first importance.
Planning a marina entry is no less, this was confirmed on our arrival in Bangor.
The sea state only calmed down once we had passed behind the north breakwater, but the wind was still blowing. The harbour master had given us a range of several available berths, so we chose a portside mooring and John prepared fenders and mooring lines on port. Meanwhile, I was taking a live crash course on how to steer a 12 tons yacht in a tight and windy space.
I spotted our berth. I turned, too late, the wind pushed us away, and I missed it.
“Hell, John, we go for the next one, it’s starboard, quick, move the bloody mooring lines!”
Confusion. I managed to get alongside a starboard finger, and John threw a line at a passer-by, who took it. I was relieved, and started to prepare another line, then I looked up… to find China Blue was drifting away! The guy on the pontoon had not managed to secure the line. I tried to steer in reverse to get us clear of the boats on the pontoon behind us.
I discovered at that very moment that China Blue was absolutely not responding to the tiller in reverse.
A little too late though. The wind blew us against the other boats. One had a big protruding anchor, that got stuck behind one of our stanchions, bending it. John and I tried to push us off, with no success. I could neither go forwards nor reverse without making things worse.
A passing-by couple jumped on the big-anchor yacht. They combined their efforts and managed to push us free and away against the wind, yelling at me to put full throttle forwards. We managed to get away, I steered out of the pontoons to turn the boat around, and the next attempt was successful.
I was mad at having done such a disastrous manoeuvre. I was mad for my bent stanchion. The big-anchor yacht had a little bend in his anchor guide, and that bothered me. We had not seen again the couple who had definitely saved the situation, and we regretted not having been able to buy them a beer.
Beer time. John filling our log-book.
Well… John comforted me, blaming the wind and the guy who did not secure the line.
My sailing friends, on WhatsApp, reassured me, saying that “which one of us has never bent a stanchion!”.
After all, it was just a piece of pipe with some holes in it.
We informed the harbour master who came and assessed the little damage on the other boat, we left our phone number and email address. We have never heard more about it.
Later that evening, around some well-deserved beers, John and I discussed our mistakes and came up with different strategies on how to moor in different wind conditions.
There’s always something positive coming of a bad situation.
Sounds familiar and yes, motoring very boring!