The worst end to our 18th Wedding Anniversary Sail
Aug 15, 2016 11:00:04 GMT
Post by MickeyB on Aug 15, 2016 11:00:04 GMT
Just thought I would share this...
After 18 years married, my fantastic wife and I took off on a 3 and a bit week sail all the way around Sicily from Malta, taking in every island we could along the way.
It was 3 weeks of bliss, and our beloved yacht Alyiah (SO34.2) was superb in everything. Bar the very last few hours...
Sunday - A NW 7-8 was blowing (around 11am) - forecast to reduce to 3-4 (by 9pm ish) - we had already hidden in a bay called Hofra (one of our favourites) where you simply didn't know there was a breath of wind it is that sheltered. Apparently, a very large amounts of 'mega' sail yachts had similar ideas to us, and the anchorage was crowded.
Around 2pm, we decided that we would head home to the marina, a trip I have done 100's of times - the head wind and waves never did bother us, it is about a 1.5 hour trip with 45mins of that straight into the head wind, the rest semi sheltered. Nothing unreasonable.
(Aside number 1) Thursday - Straits of Sicily - our engine coughed and spluttered to near cut out when motoring through the straits. It recovered and when anchored later that day I checked, bled and generally petted the engine. Nothing obvious was up.
(Lesson 1) Engines don't just splutter for no real reason - find the reason at the first sign.
Back to Hofra, and engine on. Anchor up. Start to navigate out of a stupidly ram packed anchorage. Engine just stops. Dead. Restart - doesn't even try to run. 3knts and slowing. In the engine bay now (blimey I do move fast when I need to). Bleed, bleed and more bleed. Notice diesel on south side of engine pump. And on secondary filter. And in bilge. That wasn't there earlier. Turn engine again - nadda. 2knts and now in the lair of the mega yachts.
Wife shouts she is losing steerage. Back on deck, almost no way now and boy oh boy do those close up yachts have a nice paint finish. The staff in their uniforms don't look too pleased at us being this close. Unfurl the jib - get the main up quickly. No wind in Hofra so put up everything and we had to limp out of the bay at around 1/2 a knot.
(Lesson 2) I was so caught up in not scratching the megas, that I forgot Hofra is protected, just outside Hofra it isn't and the downdraft from the cliffs makes it even worse. I know this very well, just the muddy brain forgot on this occasion.
The wind hits us. With all its force and a bit more for good measure. Over we go, rails in the water - almost a dead run rounding up into a broach like manouver - the next few minutes are a tadge of a blur, but the end result is that the roller furling rope snapped 3 feet from the roller with the sail right out (whilst trying to furl it). The mail pushed so hard against the top shrouds that the top 2 mast runners ripped out of the sail - didn't notice straight away. Noticed when the top batten (next to the 2nd runner) started dancing all by itself - eventually going for a swim.
The top of the mailsail was now in self-destruct mode - the jib was seriously overpowered and we were according to the GPS history doing 8 knots (max 10.5!!).
First thought was to reduce jib - so try to get us back onto run, main blanketing jib. Then I run up front in the very steep seas and grab the roller line (which now had decided to tie itself nicely onto anything and everything) - and heave it to about 2/3 mark. Quick knot to ensure it won't open again and time to tame the main.
Looking at the top of it, I notice it has a brand new design shape - and I didn't like the 'cut of it'. It had also appeared to have a saggy luff towards the lower half. Unsure what you call it, but the 'luff rope' sewn into the sail had separated from the halyard/head cringle. I say separated, because it appears to be just sewn in, nothing really tying it together. We head to wind so that I can put in 2 reefs. The jib clew and sheets decide to say hello to my back. Serious ouch.
Sail now reefed - but with no tension at all - and I rip the main horizontally a bit by the now vacated batten pocket whilst trying to tension the sail. Down comes the sail. Jib sheet reminds my back that we are still nearly head to wind. Clever bit of string and things and 3 bowlines later I have a rather taught luff and a double reefed main. I briefly smile at my ingenuity - and pray no other sailor sees my bodge at the sail head.
So we are now doing 6knts, roughly f6, tiny jib and very reduced main sail which is slowly ripping itself more along the batten pocket. We are actually heading in totally the wrong direction - back towards Sicily. We appear to only sail 80deg to wind. I play around a bit with tracks etc but only get us to 70deg.
(Aside 2) I really should take the boat out in strong conditions and sail her hard. Like now, discovering that the old sails when reefed don't point is something which would have change my next decision.
(Lesson 3) Old sails reefed in a blow don't point.
Stayed on the tack for around 30 mins. Plotter clearly shows us going away from home port of Valletta. Time to Tack - lee ho! 70 deg to wind again. This was going to be a seriously slow trip back to Valletta - and the wind was dropping - bet you the seas won't follow suit.
For the first time I notice my wife is looking nervous. She held it well to begin with - but I notice cracks in her facade. As we are now mildly under control - I attack the engine once more.
Bleed everything, tighten everything and for good measure thwack the engine head with a 12mm spanner. Unsure which bit worked, but the engine ran. For 2 mins. When we lowered the revs to put her into gear she cuts. And cut quickly. And I had an idea....
Repeat the bleed (diesel still everywhere). Put her in gear and start her. She fires, lurches forward and manages to maintain 2.7k rpm. We point as close to Valletta as we can motor sailing at serious speed - only about 10deg off course. I don't want to take the sails down due to the unreliable engine and not sure if I could put them up again. After 30 mins the wind kindly veers a tadge in the right direction and we are motor sailing directly for the breakwater. The wife, ever vigilant about the appearance of our beloved yacht, informs me that I am covered head to toe in black engine bay flakes of foam 'stuff' and that I better not get it everywhere.
30 minutes out I call the marina and inform them that we have issues and would like assistance. A very enthusiast marina agent is on our case (I think he is bored) and promises to meet us at the boundary to the marina - apparently they cannot come out further (assume insurance).
We enter Valletta harbour, a no sails up and 5 knot limit harbour. Naturally we enter at 2.7k rpm, sails up and doing nearly 6.5 knots. I have never traversed the harbour so fast. We get a few scornful looks from others in their boats - and a few even try to limit our progress and tell us to slow down. The flat water and now modest wind behind meant we are now up to over 7 knots. Most accepted my humble and calm bellowing of 'ENGINE TROUBLE' but a few needed the more international 2 finger salute as we rocketed past them.
Into the marina proper - and the board staff member obviously had other bored staff members and two 6m ribs each with 4 persons on took up on our flanks and escorted us for a few hundred meters whilst I detailed the problems.
They indicated that I was seriously over speed, and please try slowing. I did. It cut. Instantly. The speed with which it cut was somewhat unnerving, as was the new fact that a 34 foot yacht was doing 7 knots in a confined marina with no engine and the sails still up. They started to board from both sides as I ran up and furled the fore sail, and took down the new two(!) piece mainsail.
"It's like we are being boarded by pirates" joked the wife - the first time she had spoken in a while indicating that she was now becoming calmer - perhaps she wouldn't keel haul me when we got in - another problem off my mind.
One bored staff rib lashed me to their boat, whilst the other ran ahead to clear a path - smiles on their faces and thoroughly enjoying an interlude to their otherwise dull day. Nature slowed us down from Pontoon G to D (our home) whereupon they rather expertly reversed us into our berth.
After a few beers and bottles of wine exchanged hands in terms of thanks, they pottered off looking deservedly pleased with themselves. I went below to find a wife in rivers of tears and uncontrollable sobs. Now safe, her anguish poored out. Cold wine to the rescue. Her mobile rang - it's her mother. Through sobs and sniffles she explains the last 4 hours of our 3 week holiday in detail - omitting everything fun in the previous weeks. Then, when asked a question she responds, "Oh yes - next year we go for a month".
She's a keeper.
EPILOGUE.
The roller furler appears to have chaffed itself to death in the short few minutes that I was desperately trying to pull it in. The wind strength didn't want to let me furl and so I had to wrap the furling line round the winch - and winch like mad. This was perhaps a mistake - and another lesson. I suspect this caused the line breakage on something sharp which still has to be found.
The main horizontal 'rip' needs stitching only thankfully, and a new batten. Still unsure of the luff rope and what to do about it, but the sail is going to a sail maker in the next few days for estimates.
The engine I bled again and again trying to find the problem. I didn't find the issue and so paid one of the 'old men' here who know Yanmars (3GM30F). He found the issue quickly. The fuel pump is joined to the secondary filter via a short metal pipe with through bolt fasterners (not jubilee style) - here there is a very thin metal washer - which had cracked. Replaced that and a total overhaul and everything is fine and dandy again.
Final interesting aside - You can bleed the entire fuel system while the engine is cranking in about 20-30 seconds. Just leave it turning over and open and close the fuel route one bolt at a time (turn off the water). Not heard this before and this is actually how we started her everytime in the end. Just thought I would share that.
Mike and Donatella - SY Alyiah.
After 18 years married, my fantastic wife and I took off on a 3 and a bit week sail all the way around Sicily from Malta, taking in every island we could along the way.
It was 3 weeks of bliss, and our beloved yacht Alyiah (SO34.2) was superb in everything. Bar the very last few hours...
Sunday - A NW 7-8 was blowing (around 11am) - forecast to reduce to 3-4 (by 9pm ish) - we had already hidden in a bay called Hofra (one of our favourites) where you simply didn't know there was a breath of wind it is that sheltered. Apparently, a very large amounts of 'mega' sail yachts had similar ideas to us, and the anchorage was crowded.
Around 2pm, we decided that we would head home to the marina, a trip I have done 100's of times - the head wind and waves never did bother us, it is about a 1.5 hour trip with 45mins of that straight into the head wind, the rest semi sheltered. Nothing unreasonable.
(Aside number 1) Thursday - Straits of Sicily - our engine coughed and spluttered to near cut out when motoring through the straits. It recovered and when anchored later that day I checked, bled and generally petted the engine. Nothing obvious was up.
(Lesson 1) Engines don't just splutter for no real reason - find the reason at the first sign.
Back to Hofra, and engine on. Anchor up. Start to navigate out of a stupidly ram packed anchorage. Engine just stops. Dead. Restart - doesn't even try to run. 3knts and slowing. In the engine bay now (blimey I do move fast when I need to). Bleed, bleed and more bleed. Notice diesel on south side of engine pump. And on secondary filter. And in bilge. That wasn't there earlier. Turn engine again - nadda. 2knts and now in the lair of the mega yachts.
Wife shouts she is losing steerage. Back on deck, almost no way now and boy oh boy do those close up yachts have a nice paint finish. The staff in their uniforms don't look too pleased at us being this close. Unfurl the jib - get the main up quickly. No wind in Hofra so put up everything and we had to limp out of the bay at around 1/2 a knot.
(Lesson 2) I was so caught up in not scratching the megas, that I forgot Hofra is protected, just outside Hofra it isn't and the downdraft from the cliffs makes it even worse. I know this very well, just the muddy brain forgot on this occasion.
The wind hits us. With all its force and a bit more for good measure. Over we go, rails in the water - almost a dead run rounding up into a broach like manouver - the next few minutes are a tadge of a blur, but the end result is that the roller furling rope snapped 3 feet from the roller with the sail right out (whilst trying to furl it). The mail pushed so hard against the top shrouds that the top 2 mast runners ripped out of the sail - didn't notice straight away. Noticed when the top batten (next to the 2nd runner) started dancing all by itself - eventually going for a swim.
The top of the mailsail was now in self-destruct mode - the jib was seriously overpowered and we were according to the GPS history doing 8 knots (max 10.5!!).
First thought was to reduce jib - so try to get us back onto run, main blanketing jib. Then I run up front in the very steep seas and grab the roller line (which now had decided to tie itself nicely onto anything and everything) - and heave it to about 2/3 mark. Quick knot to ensure it won't open again and time to tame the main.
Looking at the top of it, I notice it has a brand new design shape - and I didn't like the 'cut of it'. It had also appeared to have a saggy luff towards the lower half. Unsure what you call it, but the 'luff rope' sewn into the sail had separated from the halyard/head cringle. I say separated, because it appears to be just sewn in, nothing really tying it together. We head to wind so that I can put in 2 reefs. The jib clew and sheets decide to say hello to my back. Serious ouch.
Sail now reefed - but with no tension at all - and I rip the main horizontally a bit by the now vacated batten pocket whilst trying to tension the sail. Down comes the sail. Jib sheet reminds my back that we are still nearly head to wind. Clever bit of string and things and 3 bowlines later I have a rather taught luff and a double reefed main. I briefly smile at my ingenuity - and pray no other sailor sees my bodge at the sail head.
So we are now doing 6knts, roughly f6, tiny jib and very reduced main sail which is slowly ripping itself more along the batten pocket. We are actually heading in totally the wrong direction - back towards Sicily. We appear to only sail 80deg to wind. I play around a bit with tracks etc but only get us to 70deg.
(Aside 2) I really should take the boat out in strong conditions and sail her hard. Like now, discovering that the old sails when reefed don't point is something which would have change my next decision.
(Lesson 3) Old sails reefed in a blow don't point.
Stayed on the tack for around 30 mins. Plotter clearly shows us going away from home port of Valletta. Time to Tack - lee ho! 70 deg to wind again. This was going to be a seriously slow trip back to Valletta - and the wind was dropping - bet you the seas won't follow suit.
For the first time I notice my wife is looking nervous. She held it well to begin with - but I notice cracks in her facade. As we are now mildly under control - I attack the engine once more.
Bleed everything, tighten everything and for good measure thwack the engine head with a 12mm spanner. Unsure which bit worked, but the engine ran. For 2 mins. When we lowered the revs to put her into gear she cuts. And cut quickly. And I had an idea....
Repeat the bleed (diesel still everywhere). Put her in gear and start her. She fires, lurches forward and manages to maintain 2.7k rpm. We point as close to Valletta as we can motor sailing at serious speed - only about 10deg off course. I don't want to take the sails down due to the unreliable engine and not sure if I could put them up again. After 30 mins the wind kindly veers a tadge in the right direction and we are motor sailing directly for the breakwater. The wife, ever vigilant about the appearance of our beloved yacht, informs me that I am covered head to toe in black engine bay flakes of foam 'stuff' and that I better not get it everywhere.
30 minutes out I call the marina and inform them that we have issues and would like assistance. A very enthusiast marina agent is on our case (I think he is bored) and promises to meet us at the boundary to the marina - apparently they cannot come out further (assume insurance).
We enter Valletta harbour, a no sails up and 5 knot limit harbour. Naturally we enter at 2.7k rpm, sails up and doing nearly 6.5 knots. I have never traversed the harbour so fast. We get a few scornful looks from others in their boats - and a few even try to limit our progress and tell us to slow down. The flat water and now modest wind behind meant we are now up to over 7 knots. Most accepted my humble and calm bellowing of 'ENGINE TROUBLE' but a few needed the more international 2 finger salute as we rocketed past them.
Into the marina proper - and the board staff member obviously had other bored staff members and two 6m ribs each with 4 persons on took up on our flanks and escorted us for a few hundred meters whilst I detailed the problems.
They indicated that I was seriously over speed, and please try slowing. I did. It cut. Instantly. The speed with which it cut was somewhat unnerving, as was the new fact that a 34 foot yacht was doing 7 knots in a confined marina with no engine and the sails still up. They started to board from both sides as I ran up and furled the fore sail, and took down the new two(!) piece mainsail.
"It's like we are being boarded by pirates" joked the wife - the first time she had spoken in a while indicating that she was now becoming calmer - perhaps she wouldn't keel haul me when we got in - another problem off my mind.
One bored staff rib lashed me to their boat, whilst the other ran ahead to clear a path - smiles on their faces and thoroughly enjoying an interlude to their otherwise dull day. Nature slowed us down from Pontoon G to D (our home) whereupon they rather expertly reversed us into our berth.
After a few beers and bottles of wine exchanged hands in terms of thanks, they pottered off looking deservedly pleased with themselves. I went below to find a wife in rivers of tears and uncontrollable sobs. Now safe, her anguish poored out. Cold wine to the rescue. Her mobile rang - it's her mother. Through sobs and sniffles she explains the last 4 hours of our 3 week holiday in detail - omitting everything fun in the previous weeks. Then, when asked a question she responds, "Oh yes - next year we go for a month".
She's a keeper.
EPILOGUE.
The roller furler appears to have chaffed itself to death in the short few minutes that I was desperately trying to pull it in. The wind strength didn't want to let me furl and so I had to wrap the furling line round the winch - and winch like mad. This was perhaps a mistake - and another lesson. I suspect this caused the line breakage on something sharp which still has to be found.
The main horizontal 'rip' needs stitching only thankfully, and a new batten. Still unsure of the luff rope and what to do about it, but the sail is going to a sail maker in the next few days for estimates.
The engine I bled again and again trying to find the problem. I didn't find the issue and so paid one of the 'old men' here who know Yanmars (3GM30F). He found the issue quickly. The fuel pump is joined to the secondary filter via a short metal pipe with through bolt fasterners (not jubilee style) - here there is a very thin metal washer - which had cracked. Replaced that and a total overhaul and everything is fine and dandy again.
Final interesting aside - You can bleed the entire fuel system while the engine is cranking in about 20-30 seconds. Just leave it turning over and open and close the fuel route one bolt at a time (turn off the water). Not heard this before and this is actually how we started her everytime in the end. Just thought I would share that.
Mike and Donatella - SY Alyiah.
". I am so glad I couldn't write that story from my own experience!!! Very stressful indeed.
and suddenly the engine stopped 3 miles out in the middle of the bay.. the boat started to drift to shore I was on another boat sailing in Greece and getting on-off phone reception.. the full nine yards of worse things together... my wife bravely dropped 40 meters of anchor chain and when the boat got close to shore the anchor set and at least was not drifting anymore... decided that there was not enough fuel in the tank, got the spare 20l can and put it in the thank and start bleeding the system but nothing helped .. she was scared to get the sails out with another 4 useless adults that are either seasick or trying to hide from the sun to not get sunburn and two screaming small kids ( 2 and 4 years old ) - she called the marine - they told her that they can help but after the boat is inside the harbour - she called the costguard they come around and give her a tow to the marina and all was OK in the end with 300EUR bill to the costguard and useless Volvo engineer who spent 3 hours identifying the problem and asking another 300 EUR for parts to be able to change the fuel pump which apparently was broken and he should be actually start finding the problem with the fuel pump after seeing that no fuel is going in the fuel filer... anyway we decide to send him away I found a original new Swedish manufactured fuel pump for £45 for my VP2003 change it for 10 minutes next time I got to the boat and that was all.. except now my wife is still worried that the engine can stop and never start 
