I purchased Constellation on August 6th, 2006 - It’s be a long road to get here, but I’ve finally taken her out for the first time. Yesterday was the first full day off I’ve had in sometime, and while the weather wasn’t ideal, it was time to go sailing. I left at around 5pm, with just enough water underneath to get out of my berth. It took 35minutes to motor up the Hamble before I reached the Solent, where I raised the sails and tacked around for the very first time.

It was difficult at first having to handle everything on my own, but after about an hour I was used to how things responded, and we got along quite well. The lack of self-tailing winches is somewhat difficult, an issue I’ll have to deal with, considering new ones go for 200-300pounds a piece. I’ve noticed the sheets keep getting caught in the liferaft, meaning I will need to create some kind of webbing over the raft which still allows you to launch without too much difficulty. It was also interesting working in a harness with jackstays, but it feels much more secure being strapped in, and knowing the boat won’t sail off without you.

Thanks again to everybody who has helped me get this far - I’m now readying charts and borrowing pilot books off of people around the yard, for the trip to France next week. Time is absolutely flying at the moment, and I still have so much to do. I have no idea how I will fund the Windvane at 1400euros, but I’ll just keep plodding along and see where things go. If anyone out there has contacts who might be selling secondhand Windvane equipment, now is the time to pop out of the woodwork, as it could be a real showstopper. At this stage, I need two things desperately, which I have no money to pay for: An EPIRB (300pounds), and a Windvane (1000pounds), both of which I need by August at the latest…

nick.

It’s been a busy last two weeks, with three days lost pointlessly in London on work… I was then offered to have a tour of the Solent on a Nicholson 35 for two days, and consequently pushed back my launch date again… This time to the 15th - But, unless something goes drastically wrong, I will definitely be launching, as everything is already nearing completion. The additional week may mean I can have the Diesel ready by the launch, as I was intending on getting towed to the berth because I didn’t have the money to service the engine and get new batteries in time. Next week I am going to see Jeremy Rogers, to buy a new transom mount gudgeon, and with any luck ask a few questions about my Contessa.

It was great to see the Solent at last - After looking at it from practice charts. We sailed out of Gosport, past all the Destroyers and Aircraft Carriers, and back onto to the River Hamble, to have a canvas company double stitch the sail cover. The next day we sailed West, and chased a square rigger back to Gosport.

I was rudely awoken last week, as the tractor slotted into my cradle to move the boat to a new position. I ran out onto the cockpit half dressed waving my hands. Luckily, the yard staff had a laugh and I climbed down, and was moved into a much better place for painting, instead of sitting on the ‘highway’ which is dusty, and I’m always nervous someone is going to drive past and clip me.

I found out a place for cheap paints, and was kindly driven over by a friend to a very sketchy looking boatyard not from from the River Hamble. The paints and anodes were stored in a shipping container, and everything was 50% off retail. I have no idea if it all fell off the back of a truck, or whether it is expired, but whatever it is, I’m a cheap skate and I was giggling like a child at the thought of not having to pay Chandlery prices.

The rudder reconstruction has also been difficult to content with, because I’ve been waiting on some free teak planks. I’ve eventually given in because of time restraints, and purchased two pieces of Iroko (thanks for the tip Rich!) instead, rough sawn for 20pounds. As you well know, I’ve never rebuilt a rudder, so I’m just trying to do what seems logical with this whole thing… I have a pattern made up, and just need to get access to a table saw to make the cuts. I’ll then epoxy the cheeks on, and through-bolt them.

Photos and descriptions below:

Trying to dry cloths.

The rudder template.

Square rigger in the Solent.

At anchor for the night in Gosport, England.

Pontoon BBQ. These guys are amazing! Karin is always making me up something to eat, and Rob has to deal with far too many questions from me.

My boat has been named The Pink Panther - For now, until I paint over in red.

The planks I will attempt to turn into a rudder

nick.

Apologies for the lack of updates… But I must admit nothing of any real interest has been happening of late. A lot of sitting at my computer working, and staring at my maps table thinking that I really should practice my tidal vectors.

I’ve also been spreadsheeting and pondering about the impossibility of it all… It seems I can work to make the money I need, but will not have spent sufficient time practicing, and may invariably end up killing myself along the way. Or, I can spend time practicing and not be able to buy the equipment to bring Constellation up to true ocean going ability, therefore letting Constellation become another ‘dream boat’ sitting on poles… I’m sure every prospective sailor has found themselves in exactly the same position, and as far as I can tell, there is not a lot you can do, except work hard and plan well… I’m trying.

I’ve noticed a pattern in these posts - First it is the dismal and the dreary ‘poor me, boating is so hard’ rubbish, and then comes the good news. Well, who would I be if I didn’t have a pattern? So, the good news is, Peter, another Australian who is stuck in Europe (metaphorically of course :), sent me a really really nice postcard:

That’s Captain James Cook - I hear he’s a pretty good sailor, and might know a thing or two about tidal vectors. So Peter from Oxford sent me this postcard to wish me luck, and I guess also to warn me not to pick fights with Hawaiin’s.

Peter from Oxford wasn’t the only metaphorically stuck Australian who sent me presents this week though - He also wasn’t the only one named Peter with a kind heart! Pete & Jade from London sent some cash my way, so I could eat fresh vegetables (limes of course) this month, and keep up the good fight to paddle off this continent back down to Paradise Island. They just got married, which means Pete is also broke and may have had to forego Vegemite and Fosters rations for the next 12 months. Thanks Pete & Jade, you guys are really generous.

So, with the excitement of presents still stuck in my mind, I must get back to work, stoke the coal fire, drink a lime on the rocks and search eBay for a hat like Cook’s.

nick.

I’ve just received the invoice for hard standing on Constellation since purchase, which comes in at ?Ǭ£760. So, until that’s paid, my boat isn’t going anywhere… Ouch! That is only up until January, so another bill of a similar value will be due again in July, plus launch fees.

Note to prospective sailors with large dreams: From the money I’ve spent so far, I could have purchased eight around the world tickets from Australia. So, picture yourself working at an hourly rate of roughly double that of someone ‘pulling beers’ in a London pub, with the task of having to buy eight around the world tickets in six months…Plus living expenses. And then imagine you have to do it all again to pay for everything else! I’m not playing the ‘poor me’ game on this one, just putting things in perspective. Don’t let perspective ruin your dreams though, a certain amount of blind madness is what makes the world go round.

But, on the topic at hand, Constellation will launch in July or end of June, at which point she’ll be sailed to Germany for more work and sailing practice. I am considering two dates: The 28th of June, which is a Thursday, or alternatively July 2nd which is a Monday. I am having a Yanmar mechanic survey the engine, since it’s been out of commission for over a year, so dates depend on mechanic availability also. I will stand there pestering him with questions to no end in order to get my money’s worth!

Tudor, who is doing the hard yards on restoring a real boat (those nice ones made out of wood) has kindly sent me two books for further reading. Keep up to date on his progress at Roach’s Adventures. He’s is looking at a May launch, which with any luck I will be able to attend. I don’t know anything about launching, so I imagine I’ll just stand next to him, looking at his terrified face as the boat is plunged into the water. Maybe I can make him a cup of tea or something. Thanks Tudor!

Updates are going to be a bit slow over the next while, as my primary concern is purely work and little to do with boating at all. If you haven’t already, consider going on the mailing list which sends out a note every time a new post is made. I promise not to sell your email address*

nick

*Unless offers are made over and above ?Ǭ£760, in cash

The past week goes down in my history books as the fastest week in history. Last Sunday I woke up at 7am and trundled down to Schoenefeld airport for my flight to Malaga, Spain, on route to The Rock of Gibraltar. Since skipping around Europe on budget airlines pretty much lands you anywhere in one hour, it was a rather lengthy flight at around three hours. How I flew from Australia is beyond me. I’m now a spoiled Europrat.

I arrived in Malaga, flawlessly found a bus into town, booked another to La Linea and admired the Spanish coast for another three hours. I also found out I could speak perfect Spanish:

Spaniard: Ola!
Me: Ola!
Spaniard: [Something said really fast]
Me: Uno Momento!
Spaniard: [Waiting…]

Me: Gracias, ciao ciao! [Turn and run]

So, as you can imagine, I speak flawless German aswell.

View from Gibraltar marina

I stayed a night in La Linea, and then walked to the Trafalgar Sailing school. Gibraltar is the first country where as long as the border patrol see you have something made out of paper in your hand, it must be a passport and you’re whisked through the gates. Gibraltar is also the first country I’ve been to that insists you walk across an active runway before entering the country. Since the entire place is more or less a large rock, they had to place the runway on the only flat part left, which incidently is the bit connected to Spain.

I arrived and walked around a little before meeting everyone at Trafalgar Sailing. We were briefed aboard the boat we we’d be sleeping and sailing for the week, a shiny new Bavaria 37.

I must admit, walking onto such a boat in comparison to mine, is a little like sleeping a night under a leaky tent made out cardboard, and then walking into the penthouse at a Hilton hotel the following morning. We could have spent the entire six days just getting instruction on how to use the DVD player.

The weather was beautiful at around 20c, with the first day spent getting to know the boat and assessing everyones skills. One of the great things about sailing in and around Gibraltar is you get to experience what it’s like sharing the sea with super tankers. You think 37 feet of boat is pure spatial luxury until you see a tanker at night showing lights which can be decoded as ‘over fifty meters in length and steaming’ - well set for a collision course. You also share the space with powered catamaran ferrys and fishing vessels. If you’re learning to sail, I see these things as big plusses, because it’s an inevitable part of sailing, and it’s probably best that you understand the ‘rules of the road’ really well. After the first day of assessment, we came back to our home base, to find our instructor was going to cook up a storm for us all. He made a point of making sure we understood Cathy was the brains behind the home cooked meals, but, I must admit he received the praise!

The following day we spent the morning doing mooring exercises, having plenty of instruction ’springing’, mooring alongside, and from the stern. We practiced under a myriad of conditions and scenarios, and with such a nice boat to look after when docking, I feel I got it down to a fairly gentle art, and I’m sure Constellation will be happy not to get smashed into boards everytime she’s ready to tie up

In the late afternoon, we left Gibraltar and ventured across the bay among the tankers until it was dark, and then practiced ship light theory and spotting marina lights by night. I still have no idea how you’re meant to see the them until you’re practically alongside, but I guess its an art for further practice…

Coming into Tarfia after Man Overboard Exercises

The next day after spending the night in the Gibraltar marina, we sailed to Tarifa on the coast of Spain. Before entering port, we sailed around the point into more sheltered waters to get out of an increasingly large swell. At anchor, our instructor put lunch together while we all sat around recovering from a long day of sailing. The trip down was lengthy, as we needed to beat up to the Traffic Separation Scheme in order to have the right run down to Tarifa point. Along the way we learnt and practiced navigation from visual landmarks, steering well clear of a ship wreck (which made a good point of reference on our charts) and ensuring we kept in front of our rival Trafalgar boat, full of students doing their Coastal Skipper and Yachtmaster tickets!

After lunch we practiced the Man Overboard exercises, throwing ‘Kylie’ overboard and coming to her rescue. Kylie was a bucket attached to a fender, but we treated her well pulling her to safe rescue time after time, practicing by wind and motor. I’ll admit to maybe missing and running her down, but only once!

Tired and nearing darkness, we sailed back around and entered Tarifa port. As such, you learn a little about the etiquette of entering foreign ports, handling the boats papers and crew members passport & visas. Tarifa was a really beautiful little city, with tiny laneways and nice restuarants. We spent the night with crew from another Trafalgar boat where I tried to explain that yes, I was going to attempt to sail to Australia this year without any crew (except with my imaginary friend named Trevor).

We were greeted with increasing wind in the morning, and attempted to beat back to Gibraltar to get across the Traffic Separation Scheme over to Morocco. This can be likened to a German autobahn with semi-trailers who take 2km to stop and steam along at 160kmh. No place for VW Polos or their equivalents. The wind was gusting to a Force seven, and it was a futile effort to make it in any reasonable amount of time. We sailed hard into big winds for over two hours, but realised it would take us a month to reach our destination, and resorted to motoring away from the strong winds encountered near Tarifa. We motored for an hour or so until the winds calmed and we were in a better position to make the cross, and re-launched the sails. We spent a pleasant time crossing over to Africa under sail in perfect wind conditions, around the coast and to a little town called Smir, in Morocco. I ‘ticked off’ my first visit to the continent of Africa, stepping onto the marina and marvelling at the thought of visiting foriegn lands under sail. Sorry, I get a bit dreamy and romantic over these things!

A Flat Med on our final day after five days of windy conditions.

Sailing back to Spain, the water was flat, but beautiful nonetheless. I nor the rest of the crew seemed to mind, after the last five days were spent under sail, and we now had a bit of a chance to practice theory, ensuring we had all our knots right, getting the opportunity to relax for a little while and catch up on all the questions I had. We moored in Sotogrande, Spain and dined in an Irish pub and paddled about the marina in a small tender, to make sure we had the coordination to operate one and didn’t end up going in circles!

The last day was spent doing a contour navigation and rounding Gibraltar from the other side. At this stage we also considered the theory of navigation under fog, and what is possible with a complete loss of instruments. From the water-side of the rock, it’s possible to see the holes punched in the sides to house large guns and movie-esque submarine landing depots. It’s a remarkable place, and I’m sure the military history is quite incredible.

I stayed another night on the boat, and spent the afternoon walking up the rock to see if these primates really did exist in the bushes. Apparently they do, and they have no fear.

So to sum it all up, I sailed with large ships in an incredibly busy area of the sea, visited three countries and another continent, spotted dolphins and apes, asked a lot of questions and learnt a great deal. The boats, facilities and indstruction was fantastic, and I can’t say enough for how nice everybody was at Trafalgar. So, if you want to do your RYA certificates, and you’ve got a toss up between doing them on the English south coast, or going to the warm and windy Straights, what can I say?

nick.

Thanks to the insanely great Trafalgar Sailing School, my hopes to do the Day Skipper in February have come a whole month early, quite by suprise. Defying all rationality finance-wise to get down there and do this thing, I’m flying out in 13 hours to M?ɬ°laga, Spain, taking a bus to La L?ɬ?nea de la Concepci?ɬ?n and walking to Gibraltar. Imagine this as a straight line.

No time for idle chit-chat though, time to get organised!

nick.