30 January 2015 | Ricketts Hbr, Green Island, Antigua 17’04.22N 61’40.22W – Portsmouth, Dominica 15’34.83 N 61’27.72 W via Deshais, Guadeloupe & Petit Anse, Monchy, Guadeloupe
The concept of redundancy is really important on a boat. If one method of navigation stops working you switch to another, or if something blows up you rig up the spare and carry on. It is because of this concept that sailing boats have both sails and engines. If the sails stop working, then you turn on the engine and if the engine stops working then you simply sail everywhere. On Ruffian we are thinking we need redundancy for our redundancy as all our forms of propulsion have been working on borrowed time.
Bidding a fond farewell to RoD, NoD & DoD at Green Island our sails did a sterling job a propelling us to the world of cheese and wine. With the smell of cheese and pastries wafting over us in Guadeloupe we put away the main and even with Fiona’s delicate touch the leach of the main sail simply departed from the body. All those thousands of hours in the sun and ten of thousands of miles had done their damage. The borrowed time that the sails had been sailing on was now being called in by the time bank.
As Fiona took to the joyous task of filling out a tax return, Iain took to the task of measuring our fragile main so that we could order a new one. After getting the sail ashore to the land of cheese and wine it started doing a great impression of a slice of Emmentaal. It was now full of holes, niks and rips.
Under the blazing midday sun we measured everything a sailmaker could possibly want from us and started attending to the damage. Slowly we turned our Emmentaal sail into a cheddar one by patching all the rips and holes. Once complete it seemed to have more sticky Dacron holding it together then original sailcloth and stitching, but at least we were on the way to getting a new one.
With the measurements sent out a plan was forming. We’d get quotes for the sails in Guadeloupe, the mast could then be measured by a sailmaker in Martinique or St Lucia, the sails would be manufactured in Barbados or China and we’d take delivery in the Virgin Islands or St Martin. What could possibly go wrong with a plan like that? In a part of the world that is renowned for running on ‘Island Time’ and where logistics is considered a misspelling of the phrase logs and sticks.
Heading further south down the windless coast of Guadeloupe the iron sail was deployed. After hours of faithful service we started seeing small clouds of white smoke puffing out the back. It looked like the iron sail was about as happy as our flappy, patchy white ones. Onroute to Dominica we stopped for cheese and wine, swam with turtles and walked on deserted black volcanic beaches, but all along we knew something was awry with our poor engine. We just had to focus on getting south to Dominica where we knew the engineering legend of Simon from ‘Brisa’ was swinging at anchor and we hoped we’d be able to illicit his help.
We popped out from the southern tip of Guadeloupe and thankfully off went the smoke producing engine and the flappy, patchy white sails did their job. It was now going to be a walk in the park to get to Simon, or was it?
Under the hills of Dominica the wind shut off and so on went the engine again. Now, instead of just producing white smoke our engine had developed a nasty throaty noise and no water was coming out the back. We had a serious case of engine overheating and sails that were not happy flogging around in no wind.
Unlike the engine, Fiona and Iain worked like a well oiled machine. Fiona sailed Ruffian in the shifting wind and Iain busied himself fixing the overheating problem. With nothing else for it, and with everything looking as it should, the impellor was changed. We slowly limped into the anchorage with less smoke and a little more water coming out the back. This was not ideal, but there was our saviour, Simon from ‘Brisa’.
With Fiona fluttering her eyelids at Simon she bagged the ‘Man of the Match award’. She’d persuaded ‘Brisa’ to delay their departure for a day so that Simon could look at our poor ailing engine. We hoped we could learn a lot from his years of engineering experience and that we’d end up with a happy engine.
Like a knight and knightess in shining armour Simon & Hilda joined us for morning coffee. Within minutes he’d diagnosed our problem, under his exacting eye Simon had discovered that our old impellor had worn by about 1mm and the cover of our pump, instead of looking like a shiny Olympic medal, looked more like a rusty 2p coin. Simon scolded us and we learnt. Everyday is a schoolday on Ruffian.
Under Simon’s guidance we bravely attacked the brass cover with ever finer and finer grades of emery cloth. Slowly the burnishes were removed, the metal flattened and from under the grime an Olympic medal was appearing. With a shine like that, we’d have a perfect seal inside the pump. If we’d had a spare for our spare we would have given it to Simon as a gold medal. Once the engine was fired up there was no smoke, no nasty throaty noise and torrents of waters poured out the back. Simon: Thank you. You are a true legend.
Over dinner with Simon and Hilda we caught up over the happenings of the past year and profusely thanked them for their help. With the iron sail is producing cooling water like never before and sails that are on the way to getting produced the redundancy we crave on Ruffian will be once again restored.
We catch some certified cat food. Not a good Bonito.
Great green flash territory.
The chores continue and it’s amazing how much we cram into lockers..
And they’re off.
It’s not all play, play, play. Tax returns have still got to be completed.
Measuring sails in the mid day sun. That’s not blinding at all.
The local pilots are of the bird variety called Alex!
Aghh. Ruffian is on fire. Phew. It’s just another sunset.
An anchors eye view.
Cool. You’ve got to love swimming with turtles.
This is the best sort of blow dryer.
Ho hum. Upwind we go.
Yo Martin. Great to be back.
Even we find digging through the weed problematic sometimes.
Is that a softball pitch or grapefruit being delivered?
The legendary Simon teaches us a thing or two.
That is shiny and smooth enough to be an Olympic medal.
Growth gets everywhere and some of it’s not easy to get to.