December 1st, 2001

Without rudder and engine....still 80 miles to go

Well, it turned out to be an interesting trip, after all. After Marit returned to Pakistan to finish her contract I was left in Cannes to finish the repair work and accompanied by Rob to make the trip to Monastir for our winter stop. I had no reservations whatsoever to spend the winter in Monastir, but some friends and family did. However, I can honestly say (especially now that I am here) that it is NO problem at all. Business and life as usual, no hostilities, no remarks and pleasant as always.

Before we got to Monastir we had to finish the repair works on the spreader of Sylphe, which took another week before the inox part was reshaped and reinstalled, and than it was waiting for fair weather to make our trip to Calvi on Corsica. Before we left for Calvi we spend some agreeable days in Cannes, including a memorable night in Antibes (thanks to Rick, owner of Eileen, Jeroen owner of L'iliade and Matt, owner of The Blue Peter), a day of waterskiing (at the end of October) and another visit from Andre. But finally we said goodbeye to Cannes and set sail to Calvi, where the Festival du Vent was taking place.

How to describe the Festival du Vent is difficult, it has to do with all kind activities, not all related to wind though, yes there were a few classic boats, a few modern boats, surfing, kite-surfing, and other wind related activities, but the Festival is more, much more. It is about young people coming together in a special atmosphere, a feeling of freedom and independence, doing what one is good at and sticking up the middle finger to the rest of society (in a positive way) This event is not about money or prestige. This is about people coming together with new ideas, inventions, sports, music, theater, entertainment, more music and sharing it with the ordinairy public, schoolkids and interested people. There are some 850 people involved who each of them bring an activity to the Festival, May it be Rob and me onboard of Sylphe, or be it a guy with a kyte to give a demonstration on the beach, or be it an inventor who shows the latest development in wind-energy, be it an artist who made an artist-impression of wind and sculpture, be it a monstrous big hot balloon, be it trampolines on which the youngest schoolchildren can have a go, be it a demonstration of skates, be it….. It is varied as can be, in a relaxed and open atmosphere. All to show the public for free what "your" activity is all about. In our case it meant taking 10-15 people for an afternoon sail on Sylphe every day.

I was touched (and still amazed) by the gathering of these people and the spirit in which things happened. We met up with some very interesting people and made some more friendships for life (thanks Freddy, Arnaud, Joss, Benjamin, Devon and Amoss and all those others). We will be back as this event made possibly more impression on me than Cannes and St. Tropez together.

So, after another tiring week we left Calvi, who instantly after the Festival returned to its wintersleep. So we passed by Ajaccio, Propriano, Pianotelli and Bonifacio. The weather was good, sunshine and no wind, so we motored past the coastline of Corsica. We spent our last French Francs in Bonifacio, just before we crossed to Sardinia (Italy) to make sure we did not take any with us, as the next time we come to France, the Euro will have replaced the present currency. And so we once more arrived in Sardinia, of which I have such "fond" memories. And this year was no different. All the ports in Sardinia are very well equipped, modern and easily accessible, but NO facilities at hand. The closest village is often 10 kilometers further down the road and public transport is basically non-existent. So how to do our groceries became again a challenge and Sardinia in November is certainly not an inviting place to hang around. But hey, we were on passage anyway. So we passed Porto Cerva, Olbia, Arbatax, Gala Canone and arrived again in Porto Corallo. The wind had been blowing for the last 4 days from the west with a decent force 7 to 8. But since we were in the lee of the island we sailed with yankee and trinquette and made 9 knots on these two sails only. One morning when it was viciously howling down the steep slopes we lost the dinghy again in a particular nasty blow of 50 knots. Our dinghy has been trailing Sylphe like a loyal dog for the last three years in all kind of circumstances, as we hate pulling it on deck. We had lost her once before in Greece, two years ago and than were able to retrieve her. And so did we this time. We were not ready to depart from her yet, although she needs replacement, maybe it was a sign to say: Hey Sylphe now it is enough, leave me here, but I was not yet ready. So while blowing still 50 knots we maneouvred the boat, hung over the side of the boat and tried to pick her up. Since the attachments of the rope had been completely ripped of the dinghy it was more difficult, but we managed. So, she spend the rest of the trip on the deck, being an immense obstacle for any action on deck, but at least she would be safe.

The weather forecast got more and more lousy and we found ourselves in Porto Corallo for 5 days as the waves were breaking over the breakwater, it was spectacular and we were safe in the marina, although we had ropes across to other pontoons, like a spider in a web, to prevent us from hitting into a pontoon, etc. So here we were, hardly able to leave the boat (we had to do this by dinghy as were as far as 6 meters out of the pontoon) and with no shop, restaurant, telephone or TV around. Rob slowly got desperate, but started understanding that living at sea means accepting the circumstances and giving in. And he learned very quick. The days were filled with reading a book, sleeping in till very late and going to bed even later. When the storm finally died, it turned out to have been again one of those once-in-a-decade storm that had made news and havoc around the Med, causing floodings in Algeria, havoc in Genua and got us stuck in Porto Corallo.  Well Porto Corallo will stay vividly alive in Rob's memory, but not only for the storm. When one day we had almost emptied the fridge and really needed some more supplies in the form of food and wine we decided to hitchhike to the next village. After two hours on the side of the road we finally got a ride. When we arrived in the village it turned out that it was sunday and therefor all shops closed (we had lost track of counting days) and so we returned to the side of the road for another lift back to the boat. After 2 hours, again no result and we decided to slowly start walking. Well, it turned out that we had to walk all the way back to the boat, and this did not contribute to our overall image of the Italians and their hospitality (there were plenty of cars that passed, but they all continued) So, Porto Corallo will certainly stick in Rob's memory (he is used to take his car for a 200 meter stretch in Holland, so this walk was a new Guinnes Record for him)

But two days later the skies were clear, the sun was out, the sea had calmed and we set sail for Cagliari on the south tip of the island and our last stop before we would cross into Africa and Tunisia. And Cagliari made us forget all about our experiences in Porto Corallo, we met up with Andreas and Piedro, they toured us around, took us to restaurant and private clubs, took us to the beach where they were windsurfing, kyte-surfing and all kind of other seaside activities on a cold and windy sunday afternoon. Three well equipped chandlers made it possible to fill the boat with all kind of spares, which I would need over time in Tunisia and we happily left Cagliari on monday evening when the wind had turned nicely to the North West. Still blowing at force 6, but this was no problem.

Some of you may recall that the trip from Sardinia to Tunisia, LAST YEAR, was probably the best sailing I had ever done in my life and that trip is still vividly in Marit and mines mind. Well this years trip was quite different. Dark, cold and very wet as it rained and thunderstormed all around us for the first 12 hours, basically all through the night. The next morning brought daylight, but also the sight of the tremendous waves that seemed to come from all sides. With again only the jibs up, we were making good progress with an average of 8 knots, sometimes surfing down the waves at around 10 knots. Since we had decided to go in one-go to Monastir we were steering more to the East, to round Cape Bon and than we would be in the lee of Tunisia and the waves and wind would become less. So after a trying 24 hours we rounded Cap Bon in the night and indeed the sea got calmer, but not after haven given me one wave as a farewell. It crushed down the aft deck and rendered me standing behind the helm, waist deep in white water, flooding the cockpit and leaving havoc with ropes, lifebouys and other stuff that had been lying around.

AND THAN THINGS WENT WRONG: 2 hours later the wind died even further down and it was time to cranck up the engine to cover the last 80 miles. We would be in Monastir at 10 the next morning, something we were looking forward to. I went inside to start the engine and asked Rob to give some throttle once the engine was running. And than three things went wrong. The throttlecable was rather stiff in its movement, so Rob applied some more power, suddenly it gave away and the engine was at full revs. Anxious to return to a lower rev, he pulled the throttle back, but (as it was going stiff) overshot the neutral position and went to full reverse. By this time I had pulled the emergency stop and the motor died. Robs comment was that the throttlecable probably had broken as the revs of the engine were all the time at full speed, even when he was in neutral. So we opened the engine compartment to have a look, found a broken cable, disconnected it and started the engine again. The engine was nicely running in normal revs. When we engaged the engine, the propellor shaft was not turning, it had almost completely come out of its fitting at the engine, and had shot backward. While I was having a closer look at this, I heard Rob say that he was no longer capable of turning the rudder!!!!! A couple of things went through my mind, but soon it was clear what had happened: While the engine was in full rev, we had engaged the reverse, resulting in the propellor desperately trying to reverse the boat, putting so much power on the engine-shaft coupling that it had let go. The propellor and shaft, no longer retained to the engine had tried to leave Sylphe like a torpedo, only to be stopped by the rudder, which is directly behind the propellor. But in the process blocking it solidly. So, in one action we had lost both the use of our engine and the rudder. Time to calm down and reflect on our options……….we were still at open sea.

The closest land was ten miles away, upwind. Downwind was no danger as the closest land was Malta or Sicily, more than 100 miles away, so no danger. Ahead, on a reach, was Monastir, still 80 miles to go. So, we closed the engine compartment, forgot about engine and rudder and tried to trim the boat, so she would sail more or less straight, which she did eagerly. The rudder (fortunately) had been locked by the propellor in a more or less center-position, so with the head sails up and a reefed main, the boat sailed nicely towards Monastir. The wind was back to 20 knots and we were making nice progress at 6 knots. We carefully maneouvred to clear the complete Kelibian fishing fleet, missing all their lights and nets and than had again open sea in front of us. Since we now no longer needed to helm either, life became easy.

As strange as it may sound, I was quite happy with the performance of the boat and this new experience, Rob was a little bit more touchy about it. First he felt guilty that it had been his fault, but it would have happened to me as well, so NO guilt feeling for Rob. Than he started realising he was at open sea on a boat, which was to say the least: incapable of maneouvring (or so he thought so) After some demonstrations (luffing up, etc) he was more at ease, but still did not accept that we could not fix the damage ourselves. After all, the engine shaft only needed to be pulled back into the coupling (9 cm's) and could than be tied again, giving us both the use of the engine and the rudder. But no matter how we tried, the shaft refused to move even one milimeter. We had rope and a couple of pullies attached to it, to apply more force but it did not move. Since I had taken the propellor shaft out in Malta, earlier that year, I knew that this normally does not take any power to push it back into place, so there must be something else wrong. Something which I was convinced of, I could not fix at open sea. So I gave up, closed the hatch again and settled down for the last 55 miles to Monastir.

And than the wind died………… first to 10 knots, than to 5 knots and at 3 in the afternoon, with Monastir insight, completely. Still 9 miles to go and no progress anymore. So this is how it feels to be caught in the doldrums, but I guess this was even more frustrating as the port was to be seen at (normally) one hour sailing distance. So, in a desperate attempt, I launched the dinghy, put the 10HP outboard on and tried to pull Sylphe (still 35 Tons). And than it showed that the rudder was not completely in a center position and everytime I got the boat moving forward, she pulled to starboard. So after one hour we had not covered even one mile and I gave up (and so did the outboard engine, although there was still a little fuel left in the tank, it refused to start) Back to square one, sitting on the boat, sails flapping and no speed.

And so the sun went down and the lights of Monastir came alive. Still no wind. Although we had called the marina (we had approached to a shitty 2 mile distance) and they had promised to send a launch to pull us in, the hours passed by and we saw no boat coming from the marina. Thank god this was no real emergency, but rescue services in Tunisia need some working on. (this really is a serious problem)

By 10 in the evening the wind picked up and we made again progress in the right direction, Rob had gone back to bed, prepared for another long night at sea, and just before we rounded the breakwater a fishing boat approached and asked if we needed help. I was so mad by this time, that I had almost said NO, after all, it was only another 500 meters and than I could drop the anchor in the bay. But my "normal" senses won and I threw a line over, lowered the sails, put the fenders out and awoke Rob. Ten minutes later we were tied to the dock.

Went to some friends for a well-deserved beer, had a hot shower and went to bed. The next morning we cleared customs, repaired the outboard engine (some water had come into the fuel system) and were towed to our final place for the winter and settled back into Tunisian lifestyle. Had the telephone landline connected, hooked up to the internet, cleaned the boat and sails and read another book. Three days later I had almost made arrangements for the boat to be hauled out of the water, for the repair of the propellor shaft, when the marina diver offered to have a look underwater. Ten minutes later the shaft could be turned again, the rudder was freed and we found a little piece of metal blocking the shaft to enter its coupling again. We filed it away in 5 minutes and it entered smoothly and without problems. In the mean time Rob had the broken cable repaired and Sylphe was back to its normal functioning mode. Ready to sail, motor and alter course……….a pitty though that we will be tied to a pontoon for the next couple of months……..

Cheers

Roland