Goodbye dear Spain, hello Italy!
Beowulf
Tom Fenton and Faith Ressmeyer
Tue 20 May 2014 14:33
40 33.62N 8 18.74E
Winds too strong to set out in for Sardinia blew for three days but it stayed sunny and we did some sightseeing with Klaus and Christina, German friends of ours who wintered in Menorca too and with whom we planned to cross the 200 miles to Alghero, on the west coast. Finally we decided that although not perfect weather we could and should make the crossing, there not being another window of wind in our favour for almost a week.
So off we set. We had an afternoon of light airs, a sunset, a cooked meal, stars until moonrise and shared the watch through the night. In the morning with adverse light winds we had to motor about 6 hours. The ring around the sun in a cloudy sky was ominous and sure enough was a sign of what we knew was coming. But unexpectedly a Force 4 rose to Force 7 in the wink of Neptune's eye. Beowulf valiantly thumped and crashed through haha 'moderate' seas from an unseen sunset on that second night right through to noon the next day, the spray, rain and hail drenching whichever of us was in the cockpit. Trips down below were dangerous - it was like a space capsule's opposite - you were drifting freely around but gravity dragged you down and threw you into whatever it chose. Getting into and out of our full coveralls was a comedy sketch every time. Tom very very kindly let me stay in my sleeping bag for 8 of the night time hours, huddled in the lee cloth, not moving and convincing myself the slamming and screeching was worse down below than above. I actually slept.
The footnote is equally interesting. A faulty bilge pump switch, which got stuck in the 'on' position unbeknownst to us, drained our battery and after all those tiring hours we had no engine to bring us into Alghero's rather intricate harbour. At 8 miles out we realised, sighted the town through binoculars and planned a course. Fortunately we had reasonable visibility and wind in the right direction, for a while. Then it shifted and died but we tacked in with both sails, contacting Klaus and Christina who luckily had beaten us there by an hour or so, on our handheld VHS radio. They guided and we glided; Tom did a great job of maneouvring in small spaces and nudging Beowulf at about a quarter of a knot into the quayside where K&C waited with a boat hook, and the gathering of curious Italians on the town walls above were disappointed that they saw no drama.