36:14.0N 055:56.8W Midday Fix 21May 2010 This is British Warship D92 - Identify Yourselves!
Oboe D'Amore's Web Diary
Nigel Backwith
Fri 21 May 2010 13:16
2010
View our progress on Google Earth at: http://blog.mailasail.com/oboe
GPS Position: 36:14.0N 055:56.8W
Sea Miles (previous 24 Hours): 183nMs (Oboe personal best!)
Sea Miles to date: 1,593nMs
Present Course Over Ground: 082°M
Present Boat Speed 7.8kts
Average Boat Speed (previous 24 hours): 7.6kts
Average Boat Speed to date: 6.4kts
***Velocity Made Good (VMG) to date: 4.8kts ***
Estimated GPS Position in 24 hours time: 36:58N 052:40W
Sea State: Mod/Rough
Wind Speed and Direction: 20kts S
Barometric Pressure: 1016mB
(VMG - An accurate measure of the average velocity achieved to date along
our chosen rhumb line from Antigua to Dartmouth, UK)
Apart from an increase in cloud cover and a slight increase in dampness in
the air nothing much had happened to disturb the comfortable routine on
board the good ship Oboe. "Look, there is a seabird!" cried David
occasionally and all on deck looked up from their books except those plugged
into their iPods, who didn't even hear the exclamation. Then a voice came
over channel 16: "Sailing Yacht at 35°09'N 058°22'W, this is British Warship
D92, over." "That's us" I said and almost involuntarily jumped to
attention. I responded accordingly and somewhat nervously, as we couldn't
see her anywhere. "Perhaps she's a submarine", David commented helpfully.
"British Warship D92, this is Oboe, I spell: Oscar, Bravo, Oscar, Echo,
over". "Good morning Oboe, good morning captain, we are on security duties
and have a number of questions for you. Please supply your IMO number, home
port, owner's name and nature of any cargo on board." "Ummm... please
standby, I'll fetch the ship's papers." During this period, the crew
variously suggested that I ask if we can come alongside to use the bar, have
a bath, drive a warship and other hysterical proposals. "IMO: xxx-xxxx,
home port London, England, owner Nigel Backwith, last port of call Bermuda,
next port of call, Horta, no cargo on board (code, I guess for a drug
stash)." A moment's delay and the voice from the ether announced all was in
order and wished us fair winds and a safe passage to Horta. But where was
he? Our radar found him 4 miles away in the mist and then he emerged, as if
to say "here I am" and a minute later slid back into nowhere. Last seen on
radar heading west at full chat (her speed is a national secret, so I can't
tell you, sorry!)
The banter subsided, the watches rotated, Nigel cooked his signature dish of
roast pork on a bed of pumpkin risotto and dusk fell. However, the seas
kicked up, the winds began to howl and so the sails were quickly reefed
right down. A quick check of the wind charts and yes, we had made such good
progress that we had arrived at a spot before the winds had left it!
Ummm... me thinks a rough night and I was not wrong. This morning the wind
gusts F7, the seas are rough, and the crew looks pretty rough too. Ride'em
Cowboy...
Nigel
Date: 21 May 2010