Den Helder to Lowestoft …

20^th June 0730 CEST

The 19th century included some great writers and sailors in Joshua Slocum, and R.T. McMullen, in the same era, paved the way for us Brits.  Not least, that a small boat was more than capable offshore.  Everyone at the time thought they were potty!

The 20th century, and I’ve missed a few out, includes some great writers and sailors in Robin Lee Graham, Tristan Jones, Harry Pidgeon, Bernard Moitessier, Ann Davison, Lin and Larry Pardey, Miles and Beryl Smeeton, Herb Payson (a favourite), our own Maurice Giffiths et al.  I’ve missed too many out.

John and Kara Pennington (my favourite) are exceptional 21st-century modern additions to this list of great classic sailing writers. They perfectly capture the classic, minimalist “small boat” ethos. They belong right alongside the legends for their self-sufficient, low-budget, and deeply real approach to ocean voyaging, combined with their outstanding seamanship and humanity.

My sailing library at home is large. Every book I’ve read, and some of them, several times over (another vital ingredient to gaining knowledge).  The Pennington books sit equally alongside the masters of the past.

I just thought I’d mention this as John sent me a lovely message from their beloved Pacific Ocean having read my previous blog.  Two MUST reads are John and Kara’s ‘Orca’ and ‘Thicker Than Ice’.

There was a very fierce electrical storm last night and my goodness did it blow.  Gusts + 50 kt and the marina was fairly packed.  Many of us were rafted and I was on the inside of a similar length boat to ‘Talisker 1’.  I was sharp and quick enough to have the awning down and stowed before the first spots of rain and the tempest really beginning.  And then it really did rain … like buckets being thrown horizontally as ‘Talisker 1’ heeled in the gusts.  It was forecast, but the fury caught me by surprise.

During the storm a number of cars headlights, over a period of five minutes, urgently drove down the quay to the Lifeboat.  I hope nothing serious resulted and if it did, that they were able to undertake a safe rescue.

I reflected, standing under the spray hood, the thin line we sometimes tread on our small boats. An electrical storm always makes me think of my mentor and fellow solo sailor the Doc, being struck by lightning anchored off a small island in South America.  Dr. David Foreman writes about this experience in his gripping book, ‘Tuesday ‘n’ Me’, his own single-handed 15,000-mile voyage from Orford, Suffolk to Brazil and back.  Doc’s catastrophic lightning strike in Salvador, South America, stands as an example of one of the ultimate nightmares of small-boat voyaging.

A single, blinding fraction of a second in Brazil completely shattered his world, leaving both boat and skipper just a whisker away from destruction. He and ‘Tuesday’ were profoundly lucky to survive the sheer, explosive energy of a direct hit. It is a stark reminder that whether you are tied up in a Dutch harbour or anchored off a tropical port, the margin of survival in a small yacht can be terrifyingly slim.

And just to mention the ability to improvise.  Despite himself being affected physically and therefore mentally by the lightning strike, Doc had to face an on board electric system that had been fried.  Entirely from his own ship’s stores, he alone, whilst slowly recovering, rewired his boat from mast tip to stem and stern and sailed safely home.  A famous state of self-reliance of a true sailing great.

‘Tuesday ‘n’ Me’ by David Foreman.  A must read for any solo sailor contemplating a long offshore voyage.

0815 CEST

I have just heard that the KNRM Den Helder Lifeboat’s shout was on a Priority 1 emergency call out involving a vessel collision near the Texel-Den Helder corridor in the severe weather.  Ermmmm … they were out racing!  The Committee Boat, the organisers … were they sleeping?

It was gusting + 50 kt, the rescue was accomplished successfully, and everyone was safely brought ashore including the mast less racer.  Heads up to the volunteers who selflessly answer the pager.  Awesome folk.

At the mere mention Lifeboat I think of Penlee every time.

I’ve visited Mousehole and read quite a bit on the subject. For anyone wishing to understand the gravity of what Lifeboat crews face read the simple facts of the Penlee disaster carefully and simply written by Michael Sagar-Fenton in his book “The Loss of a Lifeboat’.  It’s why I look at those urgent headlights on a dark quay with such profound respect.

1000 CEST

I’m all checked out.  Huist, the Harbour Master, was not sure if the Military Police would come to me on a Sunday.  He called them and they have just visited the boat.  Two very kind and helpful young Dutchmen.  I’ve filed my SCPR form with UK immigration so I’m all set on the Official fronts.

22^nd June

‘Talisker 1’ and I arrived Lowestoft at 0625 CEST 0525 BST this morning.  We departed Den Helder KMJC at 1000 CEST yesterday but in effect we were not properly clear of the Den Helder entrance until about 1200 CEST.  I wanted two full flood tides with an ebb in the middle to make the passage, so endured a very strong current coming in to Den Helder.  But better to suffer when one is fresh.  ‘Talisker 1’ sailed it under main only.

This morning we met very lumpy seas for the last two to three hours in to the Lowestoft approaches.  The Lowestoft Lifeboat was tasked with helping a yacht behind me with engine trouble.  It was too rough for fenders and lines outside the harbour entrance.  The main sail mostly dropping into the stack was no problem.  The spinnaker pole can be held solidly in place by taking the extension in and lowering the uphaul so the pole does not stick out.  The downhaul and stern line prevent swing in a situation like this and when using it in anger.  I always set the lines up like that.

It should have been alright this morning, but fatigue was an issue and I had to work very hard to nail our arrival after the joys of yesterday. In the final run in there was traffic for the Humber and probably Great Yarnouth coming from, what appeared to be, every direction.  AIS is such a help with CPA’s and my eyes, following cataract surgery (colour green and red go first with cataracts), can clearly see the nav lights turning a welcoming red to green of vice versa.  This passage of 125 NM is the longest I’ve done in one hit since the Heart Block.  It was a tricky finish.  No fun at all feeling so weak and vulnerable.  Am I ready to return to the golf course and keep a smallholding?  I’ve always wanted a dog again, couple of sheep, chickens and perhaps a pig.  Not to eat of course.  Not sure Kitty Longstocking would regard any of them as chums!

But here is the thing …  From the moment I set the main outside Den Helder Harbour, adding the stay sail at 1215, to poling out the genoa in the north easterlies yesterday evening and ran with the main on a preventer, the sail yesterday was nearly as good as it gets.  The weather was perfect, the wind strength constant, the seas sparkling with an easy motion.

Into the evening I experienced incredible skies and formidable sailing.  The sunset was as spectacular as any I’ve seen at sea and long after the clearly defined circle of gold finally sank below the horizon the skies to the north remained bright.  Orange faded lighter as the colours rose from the horizon interspersed with thin wisps of horizontal linen coloured clouds with a streak of darker grey blended in each streak.  The orange lightened into a pale cerulean, celeste, ice, powder blue, impossible to describe, as the sky then seamlessly darkened as it rose higher into the sky.  Photographs cannot do justice …

The stars above began to shine bright as they can only do at sea.  And the half moon was dead ahead giving ‘Talisker 1’ a glowing path to sail into on the surface of the sea.

‘Talisker 1’ was doing her stuff.  What she does best.  The boat is nothing but a thoroughbred as she slices through the sea … a passage maker … determined and strong following the moon kissed path in the sea ahead of her.  Please don’t let me let her down because she isn’t letting me down.

The lingering light from the north gave the sea around the boat an apparent energy.  Energy is there all the time of course but this extraordinary light caught every contour, illuminating every peak and minute ripple, the colours in every shade from flashes of white silver grey to a deep black.  I wonder if that is how an artist observes the sea to paint it properly.  I was captivated and mesmerised.

It was a beautiful maritime twilight display that we would not see on dry land.

The sea had been relatively quiet from installations and traffic apart from a new wind farm.  Did Cat Stevens sing “will they carry on building higher til there’s no more room out there” could read “building more” and “out there” for various parts of our North Sea now!

2.2 engine hours for this passage and 1 hour was a battery charge in the early hours.

The evening before I left Den Helder, I met a lovely couple at the Yacht Club.  Aad Twigt is a ship’s captain and had his last command at the age of 74, five years ago.  Aad and Hella have a large steel ketch, they built himself, still not finished! :-).  But between the two of them they have sailed far and started very early in their lives together.

They came by ‘Talisker 1’ later that evening and gave me a signed copy of one of their books, translated into English, called ‘Salty Dream’.  They have written several books.  More on the book when I’ve read it.  My approaching 40,000 nautical miles pales when I think of their 200,000 nautical miles and counting.  I wish I’d started when I was a young un and then Covid had not dashed the last few years!

Early sailing for Aad and Hella was low budget and by today’s standards, they were in very small boats (24 feet was their first blue water cruiser) with no tech.  Total self reliance, ability to improvise and learn, tip top seamanship, celestial navigation and, no doubt, swapped charts and pilot books from ‘friendship’ at sea and at anchor.  Exactly how John and Kara put to sea when they first started.

They are delightful, understated people and we agreed that paper was still vital at sea.  I can’t believe most yachtsmen are totally reliant on electronic today.  What would Doc have done when everything electronic was fried to a cinder when lightning struck?  It just doesn’t make sense!

1510

Border Force Harwich telephoned me.  I can take down my Q Flag!