First Urban and then Bob
Beagle Canal som är de vattnet vi nu seglar på är det inte så mycket
segling åt ena hållet. När man går västerut är det stort sett alltid motvind.
Inte ovanligt med upp till 15 i byarna. På natten brukar det lugna ner sig.
Färden till Puerto Williams är vi laddade för motvind. Det blev sol och
vindstilla. Åter måste vi klarera in i Chile. Papper igen. Sedan ska de betalas
100 dollar. Nu har det visat sig att det går att betala en viss summa får ett
helt år, tror vi. Båten ska komma
till en del hamnar till i Chile. Armade de Chile är inte helt lätt att förstå.
Hur gör den besättningen som inte har med en person som kan språket ?
Micalvi Y.C som ni kanske kom ihåg sedan tidigare har sina klubblokaler i
ett gammalt tyskt militärfartyg. Båten förtöjs i i detta fartyg. Stämningen i
klubbhuset igår kväll var hög. Sist vi var här firade vi nyår. Pizza med kall öl
slank ner med lätthet.
Dagens projekt är att bunkra diesel, vatten och mat. Temperaturen ute är
behagliga 15 grader. Det är fredag men inte den 13:e. Låt det bli en dag där
allt flyter på utan några problem. Varje fredag och endast denna dag kommer
leverans av färskvaror. Var i tid fick vi som råd. Färskvaror är efterlängtat av
alla.
Butiken är stor som två klassrum. När allt är handlat och lagt i lådor
säger ägaren. Inte ska ni bära detta. Vi kommer till båten om en timme. Ta en
lugn promenad. Nu är allt packat i båten. Piroger till lunch.
Urban
Albatross
Pictures from Cape Horn
Our flag joins the collection
010202012 Porto Torro
We leave the shelter of the bay in the rain to confront
the tempest yet again. The woollies send gust of 45knots to hammer us and the
seas conspire to add to the misery. Finally we’re running between land again and
though it tends to funnel the wind, the seas are a little
kinder.
Thomas spots a “Man Overboard” Buoy floating across from
us so we launch a man overboard drill to recover it. As we turn to retrieve it
the engine controls cease to function though we still manage to pick it up. Next
the starboard main sheet winch fails.
There are no markings on the life buoy, but a call to the
Navy advises they’ve had a report from a French yacht, of the loss of their
buoy. They are currently moored at our destination of Porto Torro and we agree
to hand it over when we get there...
Investigating into the engine problem I find the control
switch on the main panel has been turned off. One flick does the trick. Next the
sheet winch. All fuses, breakers and cut outs are checked with no success. We
can hear the relay clicking so it sounds like a bad contact or loose wire.
Covers are removed and a loose HT lead, which is busy arcing and sparking trying
to weld itself to the terminal, is tightened up and problem
solved.
Porto Torro, the most southerly village in the world, has
a population of 20 of whom 15 work for the Navy. There is a solid, newish
looking wooden dock running to the shore with shingle beaches either side. On
the right is the colourful little chapel, a bridge crossing a stream running
into the sea and a wrecked fishing boat on the beach.
On the dock we are met by the French crew whose boat is
moored on the opposite side to us. We hand over the buoy and they hand us three
bottles of wine, it was evidently well worth the effort of
recovery
Ahead and up the hill is the village, consisting of
static caravan type buildings. One of them is a shop with a seating area
outside, giving views over the bay. Ringing the doorbell we’re let into their
front room, then led through the house to a room at the back that serves as the
store.
On the way through the village a young girl leant out of
the window and after a chat asks us if we would like to play football and so a
challenge is issued for the village kids, to play us at 1800.
At the appointed hour, the opposition, four girls and boy
arrive. We give them a tour and then it’s off to the game. Their ages range from
about 13 to 8 and the Geriatrics get hammered into a 5-4
defeat!
We retire to lick our wounds, take happy hour and prepare
for dinner. Hamburgers tonight, a welcome change from Pasta
Bob the Blog
02022012 Porto Williams
What little wind there is, is on the nose, so we motor
the 22 miles to Porto Williams. On the way we take advantage of the calm seas to
reset the electronic compasses for the autopilots, one of which is over 100
degrees out!
This proves somewhat confusing to the wildlife as we go
around in circles, panicking the Penguins so they dive in fright and putting the
Cormorants to flight as we motor into their flotillas.
Job done, we arrive to find the “Micalvi”is buried under
a fleet of rafted yachts of all nationalities. Amongst them are our friends on
“Mina 2” and others we have met before in Ushuaia
Having tied up next to one of them, the “Polarwind”
skippered by the guy who lost his finger on the way into there at Christmas, the
last of our beer is issued and consumed as our Anchordram.
Then we head for town to check in, and take lunch. After
long discussions with the Navy and trying to organise fuel we get to the
restaurant. It’s not that the service was slow, but we had consumed four large
bottles of beer and my hair had grown back by the time we got our
order.
On our return, whilst other wandered, Peter and I grab
the two showers aboard the “Micalvi” and luxuriate in the limitless supply of
hot water and the chance to get out off the odorous gear we’ve been wearing for
the last week or more.
Six o’clock and
we move off to the Navy pier to take our fuel onboard. We’ve managed to purchase
the last 600 litres of diesel until the ferry brings the next delivery on
Monday. Returning to our mooring its time to make contact with the outside
world. So it’s back to the “Makelvi”, clutching our computers and phones, to
take full advantage of their Wi-Fi facility.
They’ve got their log burner fired up, so we strip to
T-Shirts in the new found warmth. We’re still at it when the bar fills up at
9pm, their official opening hours. Pizzas are ordered along with something to
wash them down with. Tim, his family and friends off “Mina 2” comes in and
several other we know and so it turns into a very sociable
evening.
Bob the Blog
