Mon 5/12/11 - Gravity!

Watergaw
Alan Hannah/ Alison Taylor
Mon 5 Dec 2011 18:03

Monday 5/12/11 – Gravity! – 14:59.8N 49:12.4W

It all happened so gradually, nobody noticed. The galley gourmet had organised supplies to feed an army, the shore crew had participated in preparing sumptuous meals which filled the freezer and fridge as we left, the skipper had been sent to buy frozen magnums for the passage puddings, with strict instructions that they were to be the miniature ones, and no more than 3 packs of 10 for special occasions but through an odd “misunderstanding” had bought quite a lot more of the ones that are quite a lot bigger (and therefore became Martin’s hero for 5 minutes!).

Everyone has been happy at the quality and the quantity of the food and drink. I will insert a small codicil here, because Martin has had to reduce his 3 breakfast cereal helpings a day to 1, since the bran flakes are now on ration (and the cereal bars are therefore taking a beating!). Even Ceri (Martin’s daughter) was astonished that the four of us had managed to demolish his 7 lb dorado in one sitting, though it is true to say that not everyone had second helpings.

We have had plenty of fruit and vegetables, though we have turned to the cabbages and oranges since the greener varieties are past their best.  Bob – managing his weight down brilliantly for a year or so - was complaining only a couple of days ago that he felt he was putting some back on again. All tickety boo, one might have thought, and yet….

Yesterday, Bob was leaning forward to brace himself on the helm pedestal when we rolled for the 650,000’Th time, and his breeks dropped down below his plimsoll line! I was rudely reminded that Bob had done a bit of building work in his time! 

Martin was seen tightening his belt another notch the other day, and Ali and I have taken to surreptitiously hitching up our shorts when the crotch straps (I will come back to them one day) threaten to reveal more than decency would allow. It dawned on us in that flash of Bob’s buttocks, that we had all either lost weight or it was being redistributed for us in some weird way

Since we do not have scales on the boat that would prove the weight loss one way or another, we can only speculate. It is my theory, supported by other evidence, that the weight loss is spurious. I think that Darwin offers more of a coherent explanation. We have had to adapt In order to survive this perpetual rolling, bucking and falling platform that is our boat. It is indisputable that we are falling over less often, but I for one am as clumsy as ever. I suspect that pounds of muscle and fat have been redistributed southwards, so as to lower our centre of gravity, and we four now have the heaviest feet on the planet….elementary my dear Watson.

 

 

Weather and Progress

We have seen a definite shift in the weather pattern over the last couple of days, not all of which is good. We are more into the trade wind belt, but they are being disrupted by activity elsewhere in the Atlantic. Last night was wet, really wet at times, and Bob and Martin learned a new Scottish word “drookit”. Not expecting this, some of us have been rudely awakened, as water from sea and/or sky pelted through a hatch.  The usual rule on Watergaw is that all hatches are closed at sea, but this is impractical in the 35o C heat and humidity that is an Atlantic crossing at these latitudes, so accidents happen (more than once to some!).

The winds were light for much of last night, and we struggled to make progress. Today, however, after an hour of motoring over breakfast, they gained momentum and we have had a great day’s sailing, It is a little hard to hold our course to a waypoint that Chris Tibbs (our weather man) wants us to reach before heading westwards to St Lucia, but with a bit of down-winding, and a bit of reaching, we should manage it tomorrow.

Clean Underwear

Sometimes, we have had a bit of a scare, when things have not gone quite to plan. Yesterday, for example, we left a spinnaker halyard clipped on to the bowsprit in front of the forestay, after pulling down the gennaker. Not our usual parking place, but it is awkward to take it back to the centre of the boat when the twin poles are deployed, and we could not see a problem. A few hours later, the wind had perked up, and the boys went to reef the twin foresails, but the spinnaker halyard caught in the foresails as they were reefed, and prevented any more than a small reef to be taken in.

We had to get everyone on deck, togged up and clipped on, then a party sent forward to tease the halyard out and around the forestay, over the starboard pole, and back to the mast. It took a bit of time and patience when the boat was bowling along, but was accomplished safely with a few exciting moments. Ali has a favourite phrase she uses in the aftermath of these occasions, stolen from Bill Bryson’s account of his Australian trip: “time for a cup of coffee and a clean pair of underpants”!

And Thus to the Laundry

We are fortunate that we found a stowaway shortly after leaving Las Palmas, in the shape of a dark haired Chinese lady who also answers to the name “Ali”. She has already performed sterling work with the washing machine, wading through what seems like tonnes of towels, dishcloths, underwear, t-shirts, shorts and pyjamas (!).  Despite this, it seems we had to fire up the generator again today for another industrial load of dirty clothes. Last night’s rain-drenching added to the pile, and the cockpit resembled a Chinese laundry for much of the day – and a “good drying day” it was, as our mothers would have had it!

Kit Box Rant

We have mentioned the Hydrovane and the Duogen as competent pieces of kit that had merited their passage. Do not be fooled into thinking there is a Polyanna tendency afoot, however. There are plenty of items on the boat that do not meet acceptable standards for marine engineering or electronics. Let me get started…

Raymarine

Once upon a time, not so long ago, Raymarine seemed to be doing everything right. They appeared to understand a lot of what yachtsmen and other boat users really needed, they worked hard at system integration, and they exploited the new technologies. They offered boat builders a one-stop shop, and their products and service became the standard by which others were judged. There were better VHF radios around, or better radars, but it was hard to get past Raymarine for the package.

They may have the excuse of corporate shenanigans and ownership changes, but they have fallen from their pedestal in a big way. Users of their equipment suffer from faulty products (I have been told by one installer that his reject rate can be 25% and higher on some components), repeat failures (sent back for “reprogramming” and returned with the same flaw as in our 240 VHF), software glitches (updates needed to make the system work as marketed, and reboots needed to make them work at all, as in our E Series MFD’s). Moreover, because the systems are integrated, a failure in one part can make other components cease to function. I do not know a single AIS 500 owner who has not had a problem with his equipment. This is, however, mere background to my selected victim, the Raymarine MOB Alert system, which is a great idea, badly executed.

The principle is sound. Each crew member is issued with a wrist watch size pendant which has a button on the front. It triggers a really unpleasant sounding alarm via the Raymarine navigation kit, whenever someone goes over the side (or a specified 30 feet from the base station), or when the button is pressed. The system flags an MOB on your plotter, which shows where the victim went into the water -so far, so good. The problem arises in use, because it does not do what it says on the tin, or it does what it says but not when you need it.

Our boat is about 45 feet long, so the base station not far from our mast is no more than 25 feet from bow or stern (probably less). You can bet your shirt, however, that it will sound the alarm when anyone is doing work at the bow or stern – from whence you are most likely to take the dreaded dive. Thus we take it off when going to the extremities of the boat, and ask for others to be around. The button for manual operation is also proud of the face of the pendant, which means that it can be accidentally pressed when you lean on it, or it gets squeezed under a jacket.

The alarm sounding its annoying beep sets off a chain reaction of nuclear proportions: everyone on board frantically searches their person for the offending pendant; people press the buttons whilst trying to remember the correct disabling sequence; the helmsman stares at his navigation screen in horror because all of the information has been blotted out by the MOB alert and the waypoint that marks another false alarm; Ali (most patience)gets summoned from wherever she is, to sort out the mess (hopefully before someone removes the battery in despair, since this makes it impossible to stop the infernal racket).  On occasions, the crew have switched off all instruments as the only solution till the faulty/ responsible pendant has been isolated, dealt with and order has resumed. Sometimes the culprit has been a pendant safely packed away in a drawer and not touched by anyone. Sod’s law, of course, these incidents occur mostly at night, so please visualise all of the above in the dark on a heaving boat. The upside is that we have had plenty of MOB practice.

Come on Raymarine, this could be a fantastic product (though it needs an AIS beacon as well), but until it’s design and operation has been debugged, it is a complete and utter disaster. 1/10 and only because it will probably work when someone goes for an unplanned swim, as long as the rest of us haven’t  tuned it out as another false alarm….