Delivery trip

[Sabre27Admin]

jerryo
Ireland
70 Posts

Posted - 19/09/2011 : 23:05:34
This was an piece I wrote in 2008 about the delivery of Sabre Parvus Quinque from Weir Quay on the river Tamar to just north of Dublin, Ireland. i thought I had lost it when the hard drive in the laptop shuffled off its mortal coil, but I found it in a file last weekend and so am thrilled to offer up my euphoric ramblings from that time

I have been looking at and dreaming of yachts all my life and have spent a small fortune supporting the monthly yachting press to feed that voracious beast within. This was supplemented with sailing and racing firstly in dinghies as a teenager and latterly on other peoples yachts The usual stumbling blocks towards ownership got in the way in the form of marriage, children and a nomadic working lifestyle, which all conspired against the ambition to own my own yacht. However a few years ago, circumstances changed and slowly I have worked towards the goal. During all this time I had absorbed an extensive understanding of the kind of boat I was looking for but had never found one which gave even 50%.of what I required for the funds available However, one day whilst reading one of Ken Endean's articles, (thank you Mr. Endean) which mentioned his Sabre,a boat I had never investigated, I entered Sabre 27 into Google search, came up with the Sabre Owners Association, and hey presto- there was the the sort of yacht I was after. As I read up on the Sabre I realised- this is the boat. The next move was to find the right one and of course the right owner, but to cut a long story short I was lucky to meet Mick Johnson and test sail his Sabre, Parvus Quinque, hereafter known as PQ.

Mick and I concluded the last bits of business on a Friday in the late afternoon on board PQ while still on her mooring on the River Tamar. Mick departed and there I was, owner and skipper of my own boat. I was a little overawed once Mick had left and spent some time looking vaguely at everything hoping that instant understanding would somehow jump out and make itself known. I found that all the confidence I had about PQ while Mick was there totally vanished and doubts crept in as I kept repeating to myself-"Jerry, what the hell have you done". As I was staying on board I made myself do normal things like a cup of coffee and some food, test the heads and each bunk to see which one I fancied for the first night's sleep. This helped a bit, but the doubts didn't leave until the next day in the afternoon when I slipped the mooring for a test of engine and sails, which went so well that I sailed her back onto her mooring just to show off to myself that I hadn't forgotten how to do it. PQ's handling filled me with confidence and that's the moment she became mine.

The plan was to move PQ on the Sunday from Weir Quay down river to Mayflower Marina in Plymouth to facillitate a complete rig check and engine service on the Monday, along with other work needed for the passage to Ireland where I live and for Egon, a delivery skipper, to join me and who kindly agreed to come and hold my hand on the journey. My insurance company insisted on this and I readily agreed, not wishing to undertake the journey solo.

Everything was completed bar fuelling up by 1800 on the Tuesday, Egon had arrived, so we ate a hearty meal in the restaurant at the marina, moved to the fuelling berth, filled up the tank and two 30 litre jerri cans with diesel and with much pleasure tinged with terror (for me) set off. Sadly the wind was on the nose so we motored.After a couple of hours and having switched on the Nav lights I noticed a light smoke in the stern light which smelt oily. On looking at the oil pressure gauge I was horrified to find it at 0. The engine was shut down, oil level checked. It was very hard to see the level on the dipstick as the oil had been changed that day so with a heavy heart I made the decision to return to Plymouth and call the engineer who had serviced it for advice. Frankly, this was a terrible time for me as we sailed back to the marina, my mind working overtime about what I was going to do if the engine proved to be a duffer. The stress levels were not helped by having to sail into the marina only using the engine literally for the docking . We tied up at 0130 hours. I slept little and had the engineer's company phone ringing from 0800 until it was answered. It turned out that this was normal for the engine (Yanmar 12 yse) and that it would be ok which indeed it was- it never missed a beat.
Jeez, all that anxiety!!!!

We departed the marina again at 1115 hrs on Wednesday having had a hearty breakfast and motored out beyond the breakwater then hoisted sail in a westerly 3 and remained beating until the the following morning which found us in the middle of Mounts Bay.It became very apparent during this time that PQ's tacking angle is quite poor and this will need to be investigated. There was a strange encounter during the night whilst I was off watch and sleeping. PQ had tacked, which was not part of the plan at that point, so I got out of the bunk and asked Egon what was occurring. He was a tad flustered, to be honest, shouting "look, look" I jumped into the cockpit and on looking under boom saw a wall of steel belonging to a large ship about 100 ft away. It was lying doggo, with no nav lights or indeed any lights at all.
Sleeping after this incident didn't even enter my head and I remained on watch until daylight.

The wind was still westerly but had fallen very light so the engine was started (and remained on until we touch into Arklow in south east Ireland). Lands End and the Longships lighthouse were the landmarks in sight, with quite steep and confused seas at the Longships. We turned north at 1420 hrs Thursday, and unrolled the genoa to motorsail whilst the breeze lasted which wasn't very long so back to plain motoring again but this was really a relief as the engine( now christained Matilda) was running sweetly. This filled me with a confidence hitherto missing and I relaxed into the adventure of the passage secure with the knowledge that we weren't nursing an engine which would keep me guessing on a minute to minute basis.

We had organised our watch pattern into 3 hours on and off during daylight and 2 hours during darkness which worked well. It was during that night the dolphins arrived; a school of about 20 as far as I could make out and they played about the boat in their magical way almost continously for the next 10 hours. Sometimes they were so close I could have touched them and the streaks of phospherence they made were fantastic. I never tired of watching the games and antics. It seemed quite natural to talk to them and so during the small hours when the watch seems to drag until you can sleep again , I told them of how privilaged I felt that they had come to greet me and the story of how I had come to be in their part of the world. Truely an experience I wish to repeat.

We greeted Friday at dawn by topping up with 10 litres of diesel and a breeze arrived from the south so the genoa was poled out to give us an extra 1.5 knots and although it didn't last, it did returned later to help us punch through a foul tide. Late afternoon found us crossing the traffic seperation scheme south east of Tuskar Rock with the rock abeam at 1810. We were now subjected to foggy patches, and heard on the VHF of a family being rescued by the RNLI as their engine had broken down and they were drifting in the murk and not sure of their position. A salutary reminder to pay extra attention to the navigation when the weather closes in.

Our intention was to call in to Arklow so Egon could disembark there- Arklow being his home, but it seemed a long long time to get there. We were both tired at this point and made worse when night fell and the tide was against us. For whatever reason, as we approached Arklow I was convinced we were motoring up a narrow channel with the land to port and a tall thick hedge with a railtrack on its far side to starboard. No matter how hard I looked, trying to make sense of this patent visual nonsense, I could not convince myself otherwise. I could even see the lights on the railtrack, a green one low down and a white one high up, persumably on an overhead gantry. Egon politely pointed out it was a yacht and there was another lesson learnt.
We tied up in Arklow marina at 0030 hrs Saturday and Egon kindly walked home to collect transport to drive me to the all night tesco for supplies, returning to the boat and then sadly parting company. I got 4 hours much needed sleep before rising to catch the spring tide north at 0600. I discovered on leaving the overcrowded marina how well the Sabre can turn with helm hard over and slow ahead, It was a beautiful thing!
There was a lovely gentle south east breeze so I unfurled the genoa and motorsailed at 8 knots over the ground, coffee in hand and felt the happiest I have for years; my first proper solo sea passage. What a moment! My feelings during that passage will stay with me forever, the love for my boat and the feeling of freedom, a man in harmony with everything- no matter that it was a coastal passage, those feelings were absolutely magical.

PQ's new home port is to be at Malahide Marina, a few miles north of Dublin but as there is a sandbank at the entrance allowing access only 3 hours either side of high water, so I decided to berth her over Saturday night in Dun Laoghaire Marina. This would also allow me to collect my 11 year old son and show off the pride and joy to him and a friend who came to meet us. I tied up at 1145 hrs on Saturday and returned Sunday morning to complete the delivery.
Total time taken 70 hours, travelling 357 miles, averaged 5 knots.

I am delighted with PQ and she is everything I hoped she would be. The delivery passage showed up a few areas to be looked at; the aforementioned tacking angle, a leak on the portside by the chart table, Matilda's slightly smokey exhaust and the occasional jamming of the forestay furler but she is a most comfortable boat inside and is easy in her motion at sea. I know I will get a lot of happiness from her over the years to come and fully intend to cruise extensively.

I would like to thank Mick and Elizabeth Johnson, the previous owners for the remarkable condition PQ is in, the love and attention which has been lavished on her.and the unstinting support and advice they have given to me. I consider them to be exemplary people and boat owners and I wish them all the very best luck in their search for their new boat.
Thanks must also go to Egon for having faith in me to skipper the delivery passage, all the advice he dispensed and so I don't mind a bit that he ate most of the biscuits.
Thanks to Alan F. Hill and Eric White for producing a smashing yacht all those years ago which is standing the test of time.
Lastly thanks to the two indespensible crew, Matilda,the elderly yanmar for being so good and to Humphrey, the Raymarine ST2000 for steering most of the way.
September 2008