BOMBAY TURN-AROUND – ‘AN AIRBUS-MANS HOLIDAY’
(For those of you who don’t know of my Gulf Air routes, I often fly to Bombay and back in an A320 Airbus for a day’s work, hence the title.)
On the way back from Bombay I started writing to sailing friends and realised that I would be repeating myself in every letter, so opted for just enjoying the sailing and scribing when back in Bahrain. I’ve written this for everyone, so, for those of you who aren’t interested in the technical details, please forgive some of the nitty-gritty. This was started in rough shortly after returning, but a serious fire in the flat, which necessitated moving out for a few weeks, and then reaching my ‘sell by’ date as an airline skipper, thus having to train as a simulator instructor and also on the line in the right hand seat, have forced some things onto the back-burner. You’ll see that there weren’t too many witnesses and I could have pretended that it was the perfect cruise, however, as in aviation, it’s always better to admit ones mistakes and “tell it straight”, so here it is!
Having spent 4 years working up and sailing around the Gulf, including a 500nm trip to Muscat, in “Minimac”, a Macgregor 26, I felt I was ready for longer passage-making. l had Bombay in mind for my first attempt and also as a ‘final line check’ in case I might have had to sail away from Bahrain on my expected retirement date in June this year. Therefore in ’97 I bought Julia Aspin’s Contessa 32(C032) “Classico” which she sailed from the Dubai Offshore Sailing Club. Partly by desire and partly by friends having to drop out at the last moment I had made 6 passages and a 3-week cruise around the Gulf single-handed(SH), so when it came time to sail “Classico” to Bahrain it was no surprise, nor indeed any problem, when both chaps couldn’t make it.
After just enjoying sailing her for a few months and spending weekends aboard I then set about fitting her out for ocean passage-making. Meanwhile I managed to get her name restored to the original of “Blue Spray”. Although I had planned to sail with a crew of initially 3, as demanded by my insurers, then 2, having changed to Desmond Cheers, I thought I had better equip her for SH sailing after previous experience with crews. It was just as well that I did, for the chums who were to have sailed with me, one each way, could not make it due to leave cancellation and changing jobs, so it was to be another SH cruise! Once again, Desmond Cheers came up trumps in arranging the insurance for the SH voyage between January and March during the benign NE monsoon.
The Refit.
Essential items for SH were a radar (Furuno 1621) with a proximity alarm system to permit one to sleep while under way and a wind-vane steering system (Monitor) to enable ‘hands free’ sailing with the advantage over an autopilot that it doesn’t use precious electrical power. A wind-generator (Aerogen 4) and solar panel (Solarex 30watt) would avoid having to use the engine to charge the batteries. Of course, a life raft (Seasava 4) was fitted, on the existing mount just forward of the mast. Other items fitted were a GPS (Garmin 120- rejected fancy electronics, anyway, I like charts!), Navtex for weather forecasts and Notices to Mariners, a Slipper radar reflector and a Wasp trailing log. For running ashore from the anchorage in Bombay I would need a tender (Avon Redcrest) and an outboard(Honda 2hp 4-stroke). For safety, a lightning dissipator was fitted to the masthead. To allow VHF comms on deck when entering port and also for emergency I added a mobile to the existing single VHF radio and increased the overall comms capability for two reasons: 1. Line of sight marine VHF is likely to be pretty useless in an emergency when miles from anyone, so I took my airband ICOM A3 which I had used on ”Minimac”. This has a useful transmit range of at least 60nm, I therefore plan my routes close to airways and know that I could contact an aircraft if in dire emergency. 2. Because I had a deadline for returning to work, I had to be able to communicate with Gulf Air in case of problems, so I had an ICOM 706 Ham radio ‘doctored’ to enable the use of all HF frequencies. For the ultimate emergency I had an EPIRB.
The radar, Aerogen, solar panel, and aerials for OPS + Navtex had to be mounted somewhere. After many mock-ups made from plastic conduit I settled for a ‘service bridge’ over the cockpit, headroom below the cross-bars was 6’3″. A waterproof domelight to illuminate the cockpit was fitted under the central solar panel frame. All the wires were fed up the 33mm stainless steel tubes from below deck (power one side and aerials the other) and the verticals were angled in to prevent contact when rolling alongside. The electrical system had to be modified to control all the extra ‘wiggly amps’ and I was helped enormously in this task by Dean Evans, ex Gulf Air and now with the Royal Flight here. He made up extra switch panels and did all the wiring for the Link 20 battery monitoring system.
For the canvas, I had a small storm jib made in case of heavy weather and also loaded the 6′ diameter sea drogue that had once saved us from a lee shore when “Minimac” was disabled in a storm off Muscat in ’97.
In the cabin, I removed the bulky cooker and replaced it with a really neat stainless-steel twin-burner cooker, copied from the one Pat Garnett had built into “Omani” in which he completed a circumnavigation. l had started fitting an Isotherm fridge with its heat dissipating coil in the galley drain, a Survivor 35 water-maker and a CD for my favourite classical and Jazz, but Gulf Air’s busy roster kept me out of Bahrain for too long to finish the jobs. Before a cruise I usually spend a few days checking every stitch in the sails, tightening all engine bolts and checking the rigging and hull fittings, however, I got so far behind schedule that I didn’t do the sails, which had been fine when I last sailed a few months before, nor did I check the engine bolts. I mention this now because it affected the cruise later on.
To Bombay.
The plan was to sail the 300nm down the Gulf, through the Straits of Hormuz, out through the Gulf of Oman passing to the north of Muscat, then the remaining 900nm across the Arabian Sea to Bombay, a total of 1370nm. We actually left the Marina Club in Bahrain early on 23rd January, 6 days after my leave started.
“We”? Have I now got some crew? No, it’s just that I really feel that sailing “Blue Spray” is a team effort, I look after her as best I can, which sometimes isn’t very well, and she looks after me superbly! Also, as those of you who have sailed C032s know, they are very special boats with lots of character and they really ‘come alive’ when out there! Having cleared customs and immigration at Mina Muharraq, the small-ships port near Bahrain airport, we left the harbour under full sail heading ENE with a NW wind giving us ideal conditions for clearing the Qatar peninsula.
From previous cruises I’d found that a practical rule-of-thumb for itinerary planning is to use half the boat’s speed. The C032’s hull speed is 7.5 kts, so I called that 6 kts, i.e. 72 nm/day, which I then factored for the expected winds and currents to finish with a pessimistic 70 nm/day outbound and 58/day inbound. Having left late, thus using up my planned 6 days rest in Bombay and also knowing that I could take on diesel at Khasab by the Straits of Hormuz, I decided to use the engine any time the ‘bottom speed’ dropped below 3 kts. This I had to do all through the first night and much of the second day.
The Navtex then gave a forecast of a trough coming through with fresh SE winds, on the nose of course! When they came at night, I already had the jib up for safety. “Blue Spray” was really charging along when there was a crack like a gunshot followed by a lot flapping noise aloft. The tired old jib, the oldest sail in the wardrobe, had finally quit after taking a lot of water in the foot while butting into the short sea. I didn’t want to spend any more time on the foredeck than was necessary to bring the ‘frenzy’ down, because my extra weight right forward was causing the waves to break over the deck, so decided to sail the rest of the night with just the mainsail up. Was reaIIy happy to find that the new hatch was 100% water-tight in these conditions! I too was watertight in my new Musto gear. Although January in the Gulf is not like sailing in European waters, at 1am in a Force 5 in a low freeboard, ‘wet’ boat like a C032, it can still feel jolly cold. As far as I was concerned the Musto had paid for itself that night as I sat, all snug, warm and dry, in the companionway under the spray-hood, sipping hot soup from the thermos I always prepare before weather. Later that night we began to drift towards one of the many oilfields so, rather than put in a wasteful tack, I decided to start the engine. However, the Petter Mini-Twin, which had always started first time in the last 15 months, wouldn’t turn over despite the starter making its usual noise, so I had to tack and leave the engine until morning.
The next day brought clear skies and Force 5-6 winds, so I put 3 reefs in the main, hoisted the storm jib and set about the engine problem. All seemed in order at the top end, but having emptied out the contents of the port cockpit locker, which actually filled the cockpit(!), and crawled in to inspect via the side access hatch, I discovered that all 3 starter motor bolts had worked loose and the motor had slid out of its housing! These bolts are pretty inaccessible, but luckily I had a comprehensive tool kit. That night the winds increased and at one stage I had an exhilarating spell of about 20 minutes when the wind was 40 kts over the deck with driving rain. It was a bit like motoring down the M1 behind a line of trucks, there was spray everywhere and the sea was really hissing! I sat in the companionway on a polyfoam cushion with the hatch pulled aft to my shoulders. It was the first time I’d used the spray hood (with its new studs and clear window, Julia) and I was a bit concerned that it might fly away taking my head with it, but it held! Indeed, that sailing position was so successful that I used it for much of the voyage, especially when there was much “flung spray and blown spume”.
The next day (by the way, although this is quite a long letter, it’s not a day by day account, it’s just that a lot happened in the first few days through the Gulf!) was another good, Force 6 sailing day with clear skies and l could see the mountains of the Musandam peninsula which juts into the Straits of Hormuz. I was just having breakfast and was looking forward to a nice day’s sailing when the mainsail suddenly dropped a few feet and went slack. On going forward, I found that the boom roller-furling handle bolt had sheared! Mechanically, this is almost the equivalent of the steering wheel of your car coming off in your hands, it should be impossible! I considered that it was too windy to lower the sail without the furling gear and found that l could haul it up a little if l applied some leverage to the universal joint at the forward end of the boom, so nipped below to fetch a long spanner for this, however, by the time I came up again a batten, which had extraordinarily sharp points at its leading edge, had penetrated the sail and tom out about 5 feet of the leach, so I had to pull it down and wrap it round the boom.
So that was it, no Bombay! I was on the point of diverting to the Dubai Offshore Sailing Club, some 90nm to the SW, to have it repaired and then make other plans for the cruise, when I hit on the idea of calling in at Khasab, only a few miles off my route, and then sending the sail by road to a sail loft in Sharjah. Thanks to some great help from everyone at the little harbour to make us welcome and organize transport, then to an excellent sail repair job done by Brian Hooper’s team at ULO Systems in Sharjah I was able to set sail again for Bombay after losing only 24 hours. What a start to the cruise!
From then on things began to settle down. We passed through the Straits of Hormuz in the middle of the night, keeping inshore to stay clear of the merchant ships. By now I had confidence in the radar’s ability to warn me of a collision threat and had rigged and tuned the wind-vane steering, which worked silently and efficiently keeping us almost closed hauled all the way across the Arabian Sea. It must be one of the world’s most perfect machines! The winds were further E than expected and varied between Force 4 and 6 when well clear of land, so there was a good sea running for much of the time. The experience of having to hang on or be wedged in somewhere 24hrs a day for days on end was new to me. I concluded, perhaps partly because I can’t afford a 40-footer, that if you can’t wedge yourself against something in your working areas, your boat is too big! There was usually a lot of spray which was dramatically phosphorescent at night, this had a welcome spin-off in that the omnipresent flying fish would aim for the luminous cloud of spray thrown up into the No.3 genoa by the leeward bow wave and sometimes became stranded on deck. These delicately delicious gifts would go straight into the pan with the eggs at breakfast! After one particularly bumpy night there 6 on the foredeck!
It was great to be able to settle down to a more relaxed routine and get some sleep during the night. There wasn’t much shipping and on only two occasions did I have to start calling on Ch 16 to ask merchant ships to look out for us because they appeared not to be aware. The officer on watch of a massive container ship bound for Singapore became very chatty when he realised I was to visit his home port, he even gave me the telephone number of his sister in Bombay! (Would you give your sister’s telephone number to a sailor?!)
Progress across the Arabian Sea was good. Over the last 9 days to Bombay we averaged 107nm/day and there was a period of 3 days when we made over 130nm daily, the best being 139nm. I marvelled at the way “Blue Spray” just kept charging along with no fuss. When it wasn’t too wet, I would sit in various locations ranging from right forward in the pulpit to right aft on the pushpit and enjoy her easy motion through the waves. The service bridge, apart from keeping all the equipment out of the way, became my greatest ally. It was used constantly for anything from an exercise frame to a Bimini and later, in harbour or in rolling seas and no wind, a boom crutch. When SH one must be clipped on whenever on deck and even when moving around in the cockpit and I found that I could suspend myself from or wedge myself against the tubes, giving me a great sense of security. This was particularly so when standing to take astro shots or to look for ships and landfall, also when sitting out daily on the pushpit railing after the head flushing system packed up half-way across!
The last hundred miles to Bombay is via the E/W Traffic Separation Lanes in between oilfields to the north and south. It just happened that as I approached this area I really needed to sleep, but I could see many lights ahead and the radar confirmed my worst fears: fishing boats! Actually, it’s not the boats that are usually the problem, it’s their nets! There were fleets upon fleets of these menaces all the way into Bombay. I had a really high-powered search-light to help me avoid the nets, but I ran through a few, one of which almost stopped the boat. The end result was that by the time we sailed into Bombay harbour entrance at 4am on 8th Feb, I had been awake for 48hrs. I was so tired that I hung in my harness suspended from the service bridge cross-bar as I looked over the spray-hood to find the lead-in buoys.
During a visit to the Royal Bombay Yacht Club (RBYC) last year I met Rohit Pardesi, a Chief Superintendent in the Indian Customs Service, who is part owner of a Vancouver 32 “Jaykus III” in which they sailed from England the long way round to Bombay. He very kindly offered to help me through the arrival formalities if I could give him an ET A, so I asked, using my airband VHF, an overflying Gulf Air pilot to request our Bombay airport staff to phone Rohit to rendezvous with me on the Ham net the next evening. The message got through OK!
I finally dropped anchor at the RBYC area opposite the Gateway to India just before dawn only 2 days behind schedule, having picked up 4 days despite the extra day in Khasab. After tidying up and breakfast while watching and listening to the city waking, Rohit arrived in a tender to take me to Immigration and Customs. None of the expected red tape here! A young Customs officer took me around all the offices and everything was completed in quick time.
Bombay.
The RBYC is immediately behind the Gateway, its grand masonry reminding one of a bygone era. I was made very welcome by the members and staff alike. My plan was to sail on 13th Feb, which gave me 4 completely free days to relax and prepare the boat. “Blue Spray” was now in good shape and I had more than enough food and water for the return passage, having victualled for the round trip. All I had to do was top up the diesel and buy some fresh fruit and veg. The wind generator had been excellent with plenty of wind over the deck, but I was concerned that, with the NE monsoon being further E than expected, we would have a deficit on the return passage, especially as the solar panel produced less than half its advertised output of 30W (which, at 12V, should have given 2.5 amps which is all we need, but the ‘small print on the back of the ticket’ gives 30W@ 19V i.e. 1.58A, which, with salt spray and even the shadow of a backstay, reduces to about 1A in practice!). A visit to Chor Bazaar (Thieves Market) produced some brass navigation oil lamps, all 3 costing far less than my single Davey anchor lamp from England! Also found were an excellent ship’s sextant and a swing-seat to suspend from the service bridge so that I could see over the spray-hood while seated. The Club’s boat boys would collect and deliver me twice a day so that I could do things in the morning and, in the evening, enjoy the camaraderie that exists amongst sailors, then be ‘poured’ back on board after an evening on Kingfisher beer!
To Muscat.
The formalities outbound were as delightfully simple as inbound and I was allowed to wait on the hook for a few hours to rest and catch the fair tide to weigh anchor at midnight on 13th Feb. In the dark I didn’t notice all that sludge on the anchor, you can imagine its ingredients! It took 2 days to get everything cleaned up! The ‘wind shadow’ from India had set in by now and there hardly a ripple for two and half days, so we just ‘puttered’ along at an easy-going 3.5kts until we finally found the NE Monsoon again. The Monitor wind-vane needs some wind for effective control, so I used the Autohelm, but that seized eventually, yet another technical failure! The weather was lovely, +32C during the day and +24C at night and, with the wind quartering astern and the boat dry, I used some spare warps to make a taut hammock under the service bridge. With cabin seat cushions atop it was so comfortable that I slept on it every night, clipped on of course, until it became too cold in the Gulf, In fact, one could laze on it while keeping a beady eye on the horizon or studying the stars at night. With quieter seas there were fewer flying fish, but there was almost constant activity of shoals of sometimes quite large fish feeding. Once, a really large shark cruised by with its ominous fin slicing the surface. Caught a couple of nice tuna which were the basis of tasty stews cooked in the pressure cooker. Tried drying the remaining tail-ends in strips in the sun with herbs etc, excellent fish biltong! It would have been great at ‘sundowners’, what a pity I don’t drink when sailing!
Having used a plastic sextant outbound it was a great pleasure to take shots daily with the Heath sextant (it still had a sticker on it ‘I.E. Zero’ signed by the ship’s 2nd Officer), and get myself up to speed on Meridian Passages and dusk or dawn star fixes. Some of the results were gratifyingly accurate when compared with the GPS. I remember one day when the best 3 of my 4 shots were 0.3, 0.4 and 0.8nm. For SH passage-making I had invested in a Tamaya astro computer. This saved me an enormous amount of time and indeed encouraged me to use this fascinating method of checking my position more frequently than in the past.
Contrary to the outbound passage where it felt as if the wind would never abate, on the return the NE Monsoon was easing and we seemed to be decelerating most of the time. There was only one day when we covered more than 100nm/day however, we still managed to gain about 3 days on the itinerary, so I decided to divert to Muscat to see some sailing friends.
About one day out while motor-sailing the engine suddenly lost power and made a loud ‘ratcheting’ noise. Having shut it down and let it cool I tried to identify the source, but without any success (it’s my first diesel). The noise persisted while hand-cranking, so I decided not to start it again. It would have been dodgy trying to sail into Mina Qaboos, the port in Muttrah next to Muscat, with quite strong tidal flows and fluky winds. The authorities were most understanding when I explained my predicament. They gave me permission to sail direct to the Marina Bandar Rowdha and even ‘phoned the manager to advise him. I’d often practised sailing into the marina in Bahrain, so when it came time to do it ‘for real’ it was no major problem. I kept it simple by sailing in with just the No.3 genoa up, steering by windvane, going forward to drop the sail when abeam the visitors’ pontoon, then rounding-up 180deg to come alongside.
The resident engineer was on leave, but a mechanic confirmed that the valve springs weren’t the cause of the engine noise. While doing the tappets I discovered that one of the decompressors had gone way out of adjustment, having put it right the engine then ran well again.
To Bahrain.
After a very pleasant 3 days at the marina, where one was entertained every evening by the superb Anita Kelsey Jazz Trio, we set sail again, clearing Customs and Immigration at Muttrah late in the evening of 27th Feb, and motored for 12hrs due to lack of wind. When the wind did eventually pick up I wanted to see if the combination of new injectors and correct tappet and decompressor adjustments had improved the engine’s tendency to belch black smoke when revved up. As I increased the rpm the smoke was still there, but when I shut it down it started making unusual noises combined with an acrid smell and a loss of power. On the next start-up it wouldn’t accelerate above idle, subsequently it wouldn’t even start at all which meant that for the next 450nm we would have to rely on the wind. During this quiet spell a large turtle, usually very timid creatures which dive whenever approached, closed from astern and swam under the transom until a breeze increased our speed, leaving it behind, apparently disappointed. All I could assume was that the back-end of a Contessa looks like the back-end of a turtle!
An unusual southerly flow was now setting in which was most welcome for the NW track required. This wind gradually increased and during the last night before passing through the Straits of Hormuz we had some glorious sailing under a starlight sky. It was partly because of my reluctance to miss out on this pleasure and partly because the waters were narrowing towards the Straits with the increased likelihood of encountering shipping, that I stayed up in the cockpit all night, just revelling! By the time we neared land the wind had veered to SW and increased to Force 5 with some gusts to 30kts in the turbulent air streaming off the mountains which rise to about 7000ft. I had sailed through the Straits on five previous occasions but had never encountered the overfalls cautioned in the Pilot, they were active that night and sounded like approaching a waterfall, a little unnerving in the dark! Having read Frank Mulville’s excellent book on SH sailing, and noted in the chapter on the psychology of it, that there would be a tendency to talk to oneself, I made a conscious effort not to fall into the habit, however, having cleared these potentially tricky waters without an engine I actually declared out loud: “Well, we’re through the Straits of Hormuz!” Read on …… !
Within 7nm of turning into the Gulf just north of Goat Island the wind suddenly disappeared leaving us becalmed in breaking seas with the sails slatting violently. Of course all the canvas had to come down and the wind-vane steering paddle pulled up and lashed to prevent damage. By this time I was pretty tired and needed to sleep but, with the coast only 7nm away, I had to deploy the sea anchor just in case the wind returned as quickly as it had gone. Because the port flag lanyard was a bit fiddly to undo, I elected to hoist the anchor ball using the jib halyard. Half way up the forestay the existing loop, at the bottom of the ball, to which I’d attached a down-line, parted and the ball then started to gyrate wildly around the rigging as we rolled in the waves. It was just out of reach of the extendable boat-hook, even when standing on the boom. The ‘twanging’ it made hitting the shrouds was incredibly loud, it was like being inside a double-bass in a jam session!
Just as I was preparing a rope sling to capture it the noise stopped, to my utter disbelief it had bounced, like a yo-yo, and looped itself over the cross-trees! I started climbing the mast, wearing my new ‘sticky’ sailing boots for grip, but was fearful of damaging the radar blipper, so came down and made up a rope ladder from spare warp and two broom sticks which I sawed into rungs. To this was added the fairly long folding boarding ladder, so that I could reach the cross-trees. Now I was really tired, but was confident that I would soon retrieve the errant signal ball but, as I climbed the ladder, I saw on the sea a squall-line approaching out of the haze that had built up over the last hour. I had time only to pull the ladder down, stuff the genoa down the main hatch into the cabin, shortly followed by the dripping sea drogue, and hoist the storm jib before the squall hit. It was a really vicious frontal ‘shamal’ (the strong, dominant NNW wind, like the ‘mistral’, which affects the Arabian Gulf). With just the storm jib I could only parallel the coast with lots of leeway, whichever tack I tried, so I had somehow to get a little mainsail up to point away from the coast. The wind-vane steering was securely lashed up, I therefore had to rig the weather helm trimmer to keep her on course, the wind having increased to Force 7, while I pulled up the main at least as far as the cross-trees, where the anchor ball had stuck. Back in the cockpit I found that we had already come up closer to the wind but, on looking aloft while trimming the sails, I was horrified to see that the main had tom across the top panel, so had to bear away immediately to take the load off. Now I had no engine, a torn main, an anchor ball stuck in the rigging and a leeshore only 7nm away in a near gale. This was a potential ‘lose the boat’ situation! There was only one option, I had to divert to the sheltered port of Khasab. I always store possible diversions in the GPS and was therefore able to head in with confidence in the showery conditions where the mountainous coast was being obscured by cloud and rain for much of the time. The sailing was really hard work, but exhilarating nevertheless, as we lunged in on rising seas with the GPS registering peak bottom speeds of 10kts! I wasn’t alone. Half a dozen dhows and wooden trading boats were also making a beeline for the same shelter. Having gained the security of the ‘khawr’ (bay, inlet or creek) I then lowered the main and tried to sail into the tiny harbour, but couldn’t work to windward, so I dropped anchor, had a hot meal and slept – for 12 hours! Next morning I went up the rope ladder, retrieved the errant anchor ball and sewed up the sail, which mercifully had only come unstitched, but the wind was still too strong so, in company with all the other boats which had run for shelter, we remained at anchor until the following morning. I discovered that the problems with the mainsail had been caused by deterioration of the sail cover, which was white like the sail, becoming translucent under the scorching sun of a whole summer of no sailing, thus exposing the leach and head to excessive UV.
Apart from another squally day, and the wind always seeming to be on the nose, the last 300nm leg up the Gulf to Bahrain went reasonably well. In preparation for arriving without an engine I inflated the tender with the intention of rafting it alongside and using the outboard to give us some way. I started calling Bahrain Port about 3 hours out, but received no reply, so, as the wind and tide at this time were right for sailing up the narrow channel, I elected to continue even though local small boats are not supposed to move at night, the time being 3am. Just after entering the main harbour area the port’s radio came to life and I reported my position, whereupon I was instructed to drop anchor immediately and wait for a Coast Guard launch to tow us out of the harbour! My pleas for consideration for having lost my engine were ignored. When the CG launch arrived to tow me out I refused to weigh anchor until I had spoken to the duty officer, who turned out to be most understanding and not only instructed his men to tow me to Customs, but also to ensure I arrived safely at the Marina Club.
Well that’s it, warts and all! What an adventure! Lack of maintenance during the major refit and some mistakes, to say nothing of a cruise ‘jinx’, gave us some anxious moments, but we survived. Actually, it was a marvellous experience overall. We logged over 3000nm, taking 16 days to reach Bombay, 12 days to Muscat and 9 to Bahrain, and having 6 days with no sailing at all. Most of the equipment fitted for the trip gave great satisfaction, in particular, the Monitor wind-vane steering was invaluable for hands-free sailing, the Furuno 1621 radar essential for sleeping with a relatively clear conscience, the Aerogen 4 excellent for charging the batteries (except downwind, I’ll fit an Aquagen next time), the Navtex good for weather and notices, and the novel galley a pleasure to cook on. After 46 days living aboard there was enough food and water for at least another 1000nm sailing, so maybe oceans one day …… ! If I’m still based in Bahrain, I’ll be making a similar trip to Goa and back from January to March 2001. Company would be nice this time, any takers?!
