Colin and Louise spent ten years living aboard their OVNI 435, Pèlerin, built for them in France and so they bring a European perspective to our site.
They now own the She 36, Sherpa which they sail from their home on the west coast of Scotland. You can read more about Colin and Louise and their business at their website.
We’ve just returned from two weeks in the western isles of Scotland, carrying out a short basking shark survey, our first in the area since 2006. Fortunately for us, the weather came good, and we had two weeks of light to moderate winds, with just the odd bit of wind
I’ve written before on the potential benefits of AIS for small craft, and having used it far more since then, it’s time for an update. After being initially impressed with it, and the capabilities it offers beyond radar, has it lived up to that first impression? A good test was when we recently crossed to Morocco west of the Straits of Gibraltar, a remarkably busy stretch of water, which is where AIS should (and indeed, did) come into its own.
It has been so good to be underway again, after a long, forced spell ashore. Not that it wasn’t without its positive side, but there are only so many weeks in a boatyard you can endure, even when it’s in a country as warm and friendly as Portugal. And it
It’s a funny thing, sleep, isn’t it—too much of it can make us sluggish, not enough and we can come close to collapse. Preparing for a passage, it’s vital to get enough rest in advance, but we find that’s one of the most difficult things to achieve. Resting well in the days before departure should be the best approach, but there always seems to be a list of things that have to be done to keep us busy until the last moment. And on the night before, even early to bed after a light supper doesn’t guarantee a good night’s sleep. At 0100 you’re wide awake, with your mind going at ninety miles an hour.
Back afloat at last, and it’s so good to feel Pèlerin swing to the wind and tide at anchor once more, after what seemed an endless winter.
The last few weeks in the boatyard have been exhausting, as we’ve slogged through the work getting her ready for the long haul after a series of false starts. A patched up repair to our rudder coming down the Portuguese coast last year was obviously not going to be the long-term solution that was required.
As the old saying goes, you pay for your pleasures, and that’s certainly true when it comes round to the annual re-fit. The many little jobs that were just too awkward afloat, added to the big ones like antifouling, can all back up and lead to a formidable worklist.
When we took delivery of our new OVNI 435 in 2008, we decided to stick with the standard 3 bladed propeller, partly for reasons of cost (we were running out of cash!).
But on all of my previous boats I’d had either a folding or feathering prop, and fully intended to fit one to Pèlerin when money allowed – none of these units are cheap, but the fixed blade could then act as a spare. Fixed props are fine and have predictable characteristics, but as has been demonstrated in numerous prop tests, a fixed three bladed prop has about the same drag coefficient as a boat’s hull.
When under sail, if the gearbox manufacturer allows, the prop can freewheel, that’s about the equivalent of towing one bucket, but if the prop has to be locked in gear, then make that towing two buckets. That will make a major dent in any boat’s performance, especially in light airs. But the prop drag can be reduced entirely by fitting a folding prop, and by over 90% by fitting a feathering prop, so we knew we wanted to make the change as soon as we could.
For many impecunious youngsters around the world a ‘project’ is the only chance of getting out on the ocean road, and good luck and full respect to them.
For most cruising yachtsmen there are few more beautiful, peaceful or congenial places to down a cold Tusker beer, than on the Kenyan shore of the Indian Ocean. Such places form the backbone of the dream for so many, and it’s not hard to see why.
But outside in open waters things are less idyllic, due to the presence of Somali pirates patrolling the sea, looking for vessels to hijack.