We're Here - Now What?

 

Having made our ‘long journey’ and arrived safely in Tarbert, what are we going to do?  Well, the main reason for coming to the west coast of Scotland was to explore this stunning coastline and the legendary ‘best cruising grounds in the UK’.  Since buying Wendy Woo we have met many people who have waxed lyrical about how amazing this area of the UK is and we have made a start at experiencing this for ourselves.

 

Of course, weather always seems to challenge us.  It has been particularly rainy and the winds have rarely eased for long enough for us cautious sailors to get out on extended cruises.  However, we have explored a little of the area and found our new favourite anchorage, as well as experiencing a near disaster.

 

Our first trip out of the harbour took in the Kyles of Bute, the Cumbraes and Inchmarnock.  The Kyles of Bute offer one of the most sheltered and dramatic stretches of water we have had the pleasure of exploring.  At the top of the island of Bute, where the West Kyle meets the East Kyle is a narrow stretch of water where the Burnt Isles sit.  We anchored here for our first night in glorious sunshine and flat calm water.  Stepping ashore on an island (in this case Bute) evokes a feeling of adventure and expedition. 

I know, the Isle of Bute has a population of around six and a half thousand people and regular ferry services from the mainland, but you can always imagine that an island is deserted.  We inflated our tender and rowed ashore for a short walk to stretch our legs.  It really did feel deserted, at least until we rounded a headland and saw the ferry terminal and cars queueing to cross, and so we retraced our steps and re-established the illusion of solitude.  Back on the boat we sat and watched a couple of seals hunting for supper and cormorants regularly surfacing after long dives.  Cormorants always make me smile as, when they surface, they give a quick shake of the head and then look all pleased with themselves before gracefully diving back down.  It’s also fascinating (in a slightly gruesome way) to watch them wrestle with a fish and then swallow it whole.

The following morning was calm and still with glorious sunshine.  We watched as a deer came down to the water’s edge to nibble at some low-lying branches and we felt the utter brilliance of nature in its many guises.  Unfortunately our serenity was about to be broken as we got ready to move on.  As normal, when we raise our anchor I am at the bow operating the winch whilst Bridget is at the helm ready to move the boat away once we have the anchor clear.  With the engine running I started pulling in the thirty metres of chain.  The action of pulling in the chain meant that the boat started to pick up forward momentum and was in danger of overriding the anchor chain.  I called to Bridget to put the boat into reverse to stop the forward motion and, almost immediately, there was a loud bang and the engine cut out.  My first thought was that we had struck a submerged rock (even though I knew there were none close by) and I rushed back to the wheelhouse to see what had happened.  Panic was setting in.  I looked around and couldn’t see anything obvious so I restarted the engine.  However, as soon as I put it into gear there was a loud banging noise and vibration so I immediately shut it down again.  Only then did it dawn on me that we had tied the tender to the stern of the boat and when I looked over the side I could see that the rope had got itself tangled around the propeller and was pulling the tender under water.

Okay, so now what?  The first thing was to check that we weren’t drifting towards the shore.  Thankfully the anchor was still dug in to the seabed so we were alright in that respect.  I then went down below to check that there was no water coming in through the stern tube.  Again, that looked okay.  So I was left with the problem of freeing the rope from the propeller.  An impromptu swim was the only option.  I stripped off to my underwear, tied a rope around my waist to ensure I didn’t drift away from the boat, grabbed a knife and jumped in to the water.  That woke me up!  First I cut the tender free so that it could resurface.  I then clung on to the rudder and, at full stretch, used my feet and free arm to untangle the rope by feel alone.  After a lot of grunting and swearing it finally came free and I hauled myself in to the tender (not a pretty sight) and then back on the boat.  Another check of the rudder tube showed no sign of water ingress so we restarted the engine and, whilst I was watching the prop shaft and rudder tube, Bridget put the boat into gear.  Thankfully all looked and sounded fine, so the disaster had been averted.

It was only then that hysterical laughter set in as Bridget lamented not having her camera to hand to film me trying to get back in to the tender looking like a beached seal in my boxer shorts.  Okay, so the video is not of me, but you get the idea!

The lesson learned?  We have always followed the mantra of “Stow, don’t Tow” when it comes to our tender but, because we wanted to go ashore at each anchorage we planned to use over the coming days we had decided to tie it to the stern.  Of course, because that’s not ‘normal’ for us we completely forgot it was there that morning.  Needless to say, we are much more aware of the potential for entanglement, especially if the rope is too long.

We finished retrieving the anchor and made our way down the East Kyle, past Kames Bay and Rothesay, and across to White Bay on Great Cumbrae to anchor for our second night.  There was one other boat in the anchorage when we arrived but they left shortly afterwards.  A seal took great interest in us as we rowed ashore, probably guarding its territory, and we walked around the headland for a bit.  Great Cumbrae seems to be a popular island for people to ride bicycles and do some ‘wild camping’ on the foreshore.  We could hear the whoops and laughter of a group having a beach party and we thought that we would have a disturbed night.  However, as the sun went down they became silent.  Perhaps they were exhausted after their cycling journey.

The following morning we raised the anchor (uneventfully) and headed south through the Largs Channel, between the Cumbraes, around the southern tip of Bute and up into Inchmarnock Sound.  We anchored off the island of Inchmarnock, an uninhabited island that used to have a monastery and three farms.  The farms themselves are now abandoned but the island is used for grazing organic cattle.  There are remains of a Bronze Age settlement on the island including the remains of a female skeleton, known as the Queen of the Inch.  We wanted to explore the interior of the island but the hedgerows surrounding the beach were impenetrable so we walked along the foreshore until we came across a large colony of seals.  We realised that we needed to leave them in peace so we turned around and headed back to the boat.  It’s their home after all, not our land to explore.  We had a very peaceful night with flat calm water.  That’s three in a row, which is completely different to our anchoring experiences in other parts of the UK.  Long may they continue!

The forecast for the coming days showed more strong winds on their way so we aimed to get back to the safety of Tarbert Harbour before they struck.  However, before we left Inchmarnock we had one more treat in store.  We had just finished our breakfast when I heard the sound of a steam whistle, like that of a steam train.  When I looked out of the window I could see the paddle steamer PS Waverley steaming down Inchmarnock Sound.  It’s quite a sight to see the world’s last remaining sea-going passenger-carrying paddle steamer plying its trade in beautiful clear water and stunning scenery.  We exchanged whistle ‘salutes’ and waved and soon she had disappeared around the headland.

We enjoyed a good sail back to Tarbert making five knots under headsail and mizzen sail alone.  It’s great to be able to make decent headway without having to worry about tacking or watching the sails collapse with a lack of wind.  Of course, we’re far too demanding when it comes to weather.  All we ask is for the perfect amount of wind, from exactly the right direction, blue skies, sunshine and calm water.  Is that too much to ask?

Time Flies By…..But Not In A Hillyard (Part 3 – The Big Journey)

 

In the last couple of blog entries I have attempted to bring you up to date with what we have achieved with Wendy Woo, both in terms of ongoing maintenance and also repairs and upgrades.  In this post I am going to cover our ‘Big Journey’, leaving the familiarity of Milford Haven Marina and heading out into the open sea.

Back in 2019 when we made the decision to buy Wendy Woo and make her both our home and source of adventure we envisaged summers spent cruising around the seas, spending most nights at anchor and only occasionally entering marinas to replenish supplies.  Our winter months would be spent tucked up in safe harbours sheltering from the worst of the weather, picking up work where we could in order to fund the following year’s sailing.  Unfortunately, reality sometimes has other plans and so it has been for us.

Sailing Wendy Woo from the south coast of England to Milford Haven was meant to be the first stage of a longer adventure.  However, we became ‘stuck’ there due to a combination of factors.  One of these factors was that we became comfortable and safe in the marina.  We built up friendships, recognised the convenience of railway stations and supermarkets, and became familiar with our surroundings.  We started to question why we had left the security of living in a house.  Also, the longer we stayed the more nervous we became at the prospect of open sea sailing and the vagaries of the weather.  We needed to move on.

Now, before I go any further I want to clarify something.  I have titled this blog entry ‘The Big Journey’.  To some people what I am about to describe is a mere jaunt along the British coastline.  We often hear of people planning their TransAt (crossing the Atlantic Ocean) or heading off to The Med, but that’s not us.  The thought of spending weeks crossing oceans with nothing to look at other than water and sky does not fill us with excitement.  We’re also not about ticking boxes on a bucket list.  I am not decrying those that do, and long distance sailing (especially solo or short-handed) is a significant achievement, but not for us.  Ever since buying Wendy Woo we had a desire to head to the west coast of Scotland.  Nearly thirty years ago we spent our honeymoon in the area and we have had some family holidays here too, but always from the land.  To see this coastline from the sea would be something else.  And so it was that this spring we started to plan seriously for heading north.

As with any journey, and especially one involving sailing, there is a great deal of planning to do before setting off.  We started obsessively looking at weather forecasts, tidal predictions, navigation charts, and talking to lots of people who had done, or planned to do, what we wanted to do.  Gradually a plan came together.  The collected wisdom of the people we talked to was to head for the Irish east coast and work our way north until we could cross back over to Scotland.  The Irish east coast has many more options for anchoring or harbours than the west coasts of Wales and England.  However, there was one major hurdle – crossing the Irish Sea.

Like many areas of the world’s seas and oceans, the Irish Sea has a reputation of being violent and intimidating.  Large tidal currents flow in and out and strong winds can whip up the sea state alarmingly quickly.  Not in a Southern Ocean kind of way, but challenging enough to make us nervous about crossing over to Ireland.

A chance conversation with another couple of boat owners in the marina led us to agree to travel in convoy.  The loose plan was to leave Milford Marina and head for Arklow in Ireland.  But the weather and predicted sea state had to be right.  We also wanted to arrive in daylight.  The distance from Milford Haven to Arklow is about 85nm and would take us 17 hours provided that we could maintain 5 knots.  This meant that, given we wanted calm weather, we would be motoring most, if not all, the way across. 

Conditions started to align for a departure date of 20^th May and so, at 3 o’clock that morning we slipped our berth in Milford Marina for the final time and headed out through the lock gates on freeflow.  Our journey began.

We rounded St Anne’s Head as the sky was starting to get light and headed due west to clear Grassholm Island before pointing the bow at Arklow and motoring on.  Initially we had a light breeze and the tide to help us, but they soon died away so we increased the revs to maintain 5 knots and keep up with our travelling companions.  The surface of the water was like silk and we had a pod of dolphins escort us for a while.  It’s always a thrill to see them playing around the boat.

  We gradually saw the Welsh coastline disappear behind us and our sailing companions pull away from us in their faster boats, but knowing that they were out there with us gave us great comfort as we willed the Irish coast to appear.  And after many hours the Irish coast did indeed appear (funny how that works!)  We anchored in a small bay just outside Arklow for the night after 17 hours of motoring.  It was an amazing feeling – we had finally faced and cleared the hurdle of our mind, the Irish Sea.

The following morning we raised the anchor and headed north for Dun Laoghaire.  It was another calm day but we knew that strong winds were on their way and we wanted the shelter of a marina once again.  We were on constant watch for fishing pots along the coastline, of which there were many.  Catching one of these lines around our propeller could be disastrous and they are a significant concern for many sailors.  We motored north for about 7 hours before arriving at Dun Laoghaire.  The marina is vast and the entrance was very busy with boats of all shapes and sizes coming and going.

I had telephoned ahead and been allocated a berth and one of the marina staff was on hand to help us tie up.  Knowing that strong winds were imminent and would last for a few days we booked for a week to give us chance to explore the area and Dublin.

Neither of us had been to Ireland before and, stepping ashore, we were struck by how ‘European’ the town felt.  Zebra crossings and road signs in particular gave the impression that we could have been in mainland Europe.  Dun Laoghaire itself is a vibrant town with good restaurants and bars.  We met up with our travelling companions to savour my first (and second) pint of ‘real’ Guinness on Irish soil.  Delicious as it was, I could not face a third pint in quick succession.

Whilst waiting for the next weather window to arrive we explored.  We took a walk to Sandycove to visit the James Joyce Museum which is housed in a Martello tower.  We took the DART train around Dublin Bay as far as Howth and walked up on to the headland to scout the next part of our passage.  We also took the DART train into Dublin to spend the day walking around taking in the sights and, yes, having a pint of Guinness.
  A daughter of a friend of ours from Milford Haven lives and works in Dublin so we met up with her to say hello and also get some tips of places to visit and eat.  It was great to get some tips that avoided the usual tourist traps, thank you Aphra.

And so, having booked to stay in Dun Laoghaire for seven nights, the weather window started to appear after four and we made the decision to forfeit the extra nights in favour of getting further north before the next weather system would be upon us.  The wind was quite brisk for departure and, once again, the marina staff were on hand to give us assistance.  What we hadn’t appreciated was that there was a yacht race in progress in Dublin Bay and we had to cross right through the fleet.  Furthermore, the water was very choppy and there were several commercial ships entering and leaving the port of Dublin.  Needless to say, the first hour or so was full-on concentration and a test of seamanship.  However, once we had rounded the headland at Howth things calmed down and we made for an anchorage at Skerries for the night.  This proved to be a calm anchorage although we did ride over our anchor chain which meant that it rubbed against our keel for a good portion of the night.

The following morning we headed further north.  I had picked out a potential anchorage off Newcastle Harbour which looked like it would give us shelter from the breeze that was set to pick up from the south.  We managed a good sail north with both wind and tide in our favour for a change and anchored off this small harbour.  However, as the night wore on the wind really started to pick up and I became more and more anxious that the anchor would hold.  The swell also got worse and we were being rolled around to such an extent that sleep became impossible.  As it turned out, the anchor held fine but as soon as it was light we continued on our way.  Our sailing companions decided to strike out for Bangor in Belfast Lough; however, we felt that it was too great a distance for us and so made for Portaferry in the entrance to Strangford Lough instead.

Entry into Strangford Lough and Portaferry is a challenge to say the least.  It’s best to time your arrival for the start of the flood tide and head up the narrows with the tide.  Portaferry itself is on the north shore of the narrows and is quite tight.  Our timing was pretty much spot on and we ‘shot’ up the channel making about 9 knots over the ground.  Wendy Woo has never gone so fast!  However, to enter the marina you have to make two 180 degree turns and navigate through a very tight neck to round the breakwater.  I made the first turn to turn us into the tide and our speed immediately dropped to 2 knots.  It then felt like I was driving Wendy Woo up on to the beach before making the second turn to head straight at the pontoon.  Thankfully there wasn’t enough time for us to accelerate too much before the harbour master was able to grab our lines and secure us alongside.  They say it’s good to raise your pulse rate every now and again, and that certainly did it for me!

Portaferry is a lovely small marina in a beautiful setting.  The ‘facilities’ are extremely basic; however, the feeling of open space, mountains and forests, and lots of wildlife were a tonic after the busy-ness of Dublin and a couple of sleepless nights.  We ended up staying there for 6 nights whilst another storm passed through, but we made the most of getting off the boat and stretching our legs with some good walks.  I want to say a big ‘thank you’ to Padraig, Portaferry’s harbour master for his assistance, and his very welcoming and friendly approach.  He runs this small marina single-handed and always had a smile on his face and a willingness to help anyone.  I highly recommend making a stopover at this place.  Of course we were constantly looking for the next weather window to get us further north.

We left Portaferry with the ebb tide in a reversal of our arrival procedure and shot back out into the Irish Sea to head north once again.  We motor-sailed towards Belfast Lough making good progress until we hit a foul tide.  Rounding Mew Island on the southern entrance to Belfast Lough was a real struggle.  We had about 3 knots of tide against us and it seemed to take forever to turn in to the Lough.  However, we made it eventually and anchored in Groomsport Bay for the night.  Once again this proved to be a very uncomfortable anchorage with a side-on swell and very little sleep.  We made the decision early the next morning to head for Bangor Marina a little further in the Lough to wait out the next set of storm winds forecast.

Bangor Marina became another extended stay.  We needed a two-day weather window to cross the North Channel and make it to Campbeltown and then Tarbert, but every time we checked the forecast there were very strong winds to the northwest of Ireland.  We ended up spending eleven nights in the marina waiting for our moment.  In retrospect this gave us a better overall impression of Bangor and Belfast.  On initial arrival Bangor seems to be a run-down seaside town/harbour and, had we not stayed longer we may still have that view.  However, over the following days we got to explore the area much more and really warmed to the place.  Also, we might not have made the effort to visit Belfast, a city that has had a difficult past.

  We found Belfast to be a really vibrant, authentic place, and actually preferred it to Dublin which, on reflection, was perhaps trying too hard to fit the stereotypical ‘Irish’ experience.  Having said that, both cities warrant further exploring which we hope to do in the future.

And so finally the weather gods smiled upon us.  We left our mooring in Bangor Marina and pointed Wendy’s nose at the Mull of Kintyre.  We could see it way off in the distance across the North Channel and we had the tide with us for the next 6 hours so we made good progress.

However, after a couple of hours the visibility reduced and rain started to fall so we lost sight of the Mull for most of the way.  We could see our destination on the chart plotter but all around us was grey sky and grey water.

Steadily though we were eating up the miles
and after 9 hours of motor-sailing we entered Campbeltown Loch and anchored up in flat-calm water and sunshine.

We spent the night in a perfect anchorage (possibly the first time) and then the following day we headed further north, up Kilbrannan Sound and into Tarbert Harbour, our ultimate destination.

Arriving in glorious sunshine was a very emotional moment.  We have been wanting to come to Tarbert almost as long as we have owned Wendy Woo.  Bridget’s dad was so excited about our planned adventures.  Unfortunately he passed away in 2021, but we very much felt his spirit was with us as we turned in towards the harbour.  He would have been thrilled that we had made it to Scotland, the country of his birth, and he would have loved this working fishing harbour.  Tarbert is just as we imagined it to be and we plan to use it as a base to explore the islands, lochs and kyles of west Scotland over the coming months.

I’d like to end this post by saying a big thank you to Daryl and Evelyn on Carpe Diem and Chris and Jacqueline on Hussar IV, for encouraging us to slip our lines from Milford Haven and leading the way across the Irish Sea.  Having made the decision to sail in convoy it made it harder for us to talk ourselves out of going, and knowing they were out there with us was a big comfort.

In my next post I will talk about some of the sailing we have done since arriving here in June.  Until then, thanks for reading this somewhat lengthy post.

Time Flies By…..But Not In A Hillyard (Part 2 – Repairs and Upgrades)

In this blog post I’m going to cover some of the repairs and upgrades we have completed on Wendy Woo over the past few years.  One of the realities of owning a boat, and especially an old wooden boat, is that things break, leak, degrade or just stop working.  Preventative maintenance is essential in trying to mitigate the effect of random failures.  Mechanical maintenance and servicing can be relatively straightforward if you have an aptitude for such things.  Those of you who know me will be aware that I am an engineer by background and have ‘messed around’ with cars for decades, as well as being a handyman when it comes to DIY.  Therefore I do all of the mechanical and electrical systems maintenance myself.  Not only does this help greatly in keeping costs manageable, it also means that we are pretty much self-reliant when out and about.  I firmly believe that understanding your boat and its systems is essential for this reason.

 

The structure of the boat is another matter.  The nature of a wooden boat means that there are many joints and seams that offer potential pathways for water to get in.  Below the waterline is sound and we generally have a dry bilge (although see my earlier post about fresh water leaks).  However, since we moved on board Wendy Woo we have continually tried to identify the source of a leak into one of the lockers in the saloon.  Rainwater would find its way in through the wheelhouse and track down into the locker, but finding the entry point has proved particularly challenging.  Sometimes we could be sitting in a downpour and nothing would come in and at other times in drizzle the water would drip in.  I tried using a hose pipe to simulate rainfall working my way upwards but nothing obvious would reveal itself.  In the end we decided to dig into the most likely point of entry, that being the junction between the wheelhouse windscreen and the saloon roof.

  It quickly became apparent that water had been getting in there for some time.  The wood was rotten in parts and I ended up stripping back a reasonably large section of the roof before finding sound material.  I replaced some of the planking and re-sheathed the area and all seemed good for a while, but then the leak reappeared. 

This time I dug out along the side of the wheelhouse and removed the side window (breaking it in the process!) and replacing more rotten wood.  This seems to have solved the problem, but for how long, who knows?  We have also done a similar repair on the other side and that appears to be fixed now.  We have both agreed to not use the ‘L-word’ for fear of jinxing the repairs we have done.

 

Another area of concern we have had is the age and condition of the underwater skin fittings.  These are holes below the waterline with hoses attached that allow water either in (for engine cooling and toilet flushing) or out (for sink drains, toilet drains, etc).  They are made from either plastic or metal of varying qualities and are vital to the seaworthiness of any vessel.

  In our case the skin fittings appeared to be made from a mixture of bronze and chrome plated brass and, although they looked ok at initial glance, they were of an unknown age.  This is the type of thing that can lodge itself into your mind when out at sea and cause no end of anxiety as a failure can lead to very rapid flooding of your boat.  We decided that we would change all the skin fittings for good quality silicon bronze ones at our next lift out, and at the same time replace all the valves and hoses too. 

Not a cheap exercise to say the least but, like with the keel bolts we replaced a few years ago, we now have the peace of mind that all is good below the waterline.

One of the topics I discussed in an earlier post was our desire to be more self-sufficient whilst at anchor.  We’re not there yet but we have made steps towards that goal.  Having the confidence that your batteries are being charged is a constant worry for anchor dwellers.  We already had a 100w solar panel on the wheelhouse roof but this was nowhere near enough capacity.  Furthermore, because it was a rigid panel sitting proud of the roof surface it would often catch the mainsail reefing lines whilst underway which had the risk of causing damage.  Flexible solar panels have a much lower profile and improvements in technology have made them much more efficient.  We therefore decided to replace the existing panel with two 175w flexible panels and coupled them to a smart solar charge controller from Victron Energy.

This has given us far greater charge capacity……in theory.  However, due to partial shading from the main boom we are not harvesting as much solar energy as we would like.  We want to fit more panels but space is at a premium so this is a work in progress project.  We would also like to invest in a wind generator but funds don’t allow for this at the moment, as is the case for switching to lithium (LiFePo4) batteries.  We will get there eventually.

 Another upgrade we have done is with digital navigation.  When we bought WW she already had a Standard Horizon GPS chart plotter fitted.  This works perfectly well; however, the electronic charts are outdated, the screen is very small, and it is located in the saloon out of sight of the helm.

 

I did a lot of research into various options to provide digital navigation at the helm.  Clearly there are many bespoke ‘glass cockpit’ solutions for boats but these tend to come at significant cost and are fixed into the boat.  The other option is to use a tablet device with navigation software installed and this is the route we opted for. 

We bought a Samsung tablet and installed Navionics software onto it.  We can place this in front of the helm whilst underway but the tablet has the added advantage of being used for other purposes when not navigating.  This has proved to be a highly cost effective solution.  We now have real-time situational awareness which has proved invaluable on the occasions when we have been in reduced visibility.  We still use the Standard Horizon chart plotter as a back-up and we also have paper charts for our cruising areas, so we know where we are at all times.

 

The final upgrade I want to cover is AIS.  Automatic Identification System is a worldwide system for boats to ‘see’ other boats and, depending on the system installed, ‘tell’ other boats where you are.  Again, WW had an AIS system fitted but it was a basic receiver with a very small screen and also not visible from the helm.  Being a receiver only this system is only capable of seeing other boats which is fine, but we also wanted to make sure that we could be seen by other vessels.  In addition, I was aware that it was possible to overlay AIS target information onto digital charts.  Much research once again ensued and having read many reviews I decided on an Emtrak Class B+ AIS Transponder.

  This was straightforward to install and works very well.  We now have the confidence that we are continually transmitting our location as well as seeing everyone else.  It has the added advantage of working alongside our Navionics system so we can see other vessels overlaid onto the digital charts.  Of course it can only display a vessel if that vessel is transmitting so it doesn’t remove the need to keep a good lookout at all times, but again it is a real help if visibility is reduced.  As a sideline our location is also visible to friends and family ashore who can see us on such websites as marinetraffic.com.

 

There have been many other repairs over the past few years such as wiring alterations, hinge replacements and no end of sanding, painting and varnishing, but the above paragraphs outline the more significant tasks we have carried out.  I hope that they have given you an idea of what it’s like to own and live on an old wooden boat.  In my next blog I will talk about our ‘big journey’ but until then, thanks for reading and please feel free to comment below.

Time Flies By…..But Not In A Hillyard (Part 1 – Journeys)

 

It is heading towards three years since I last posted a blog entry so I thought it was about time that I put my fingers to the keyboard and updated where we are at with our life on board Wendy Woo.  It turns out that living on a boat actually means that eighty percent of the time the boat is a home and only twenty percent of the time it is a form of transport.  Having said that, we have had several interesting trips and taken onboard many ‘learning points’ for discussion once safely back alongside.  There have also been many repairs, upgrades and general fettling of the boat in that time.  I will go over some of the more interesting (?) events in this blog as a way of summarizing our progress.  Before I start I will just apologise for the lack of photographs.  I’m not very good at remembering to photograph things as I go along; sometimes it’s only after the event that I think about it.  Anyway, hopefully my words will paint the picture well enough and, where I have photos I will include them.

 

So what journeys have we undertaken?  Well, not as many as we had planned and hoped for.  Sometimes life events dictate that priorities change and you have to adapt.  However, we have been out and about around the Pembrokeshire coastline, anchoring off Dale, Tenby and St David’s Head.  One memorable trip (for reasons that will become apparent) was to Port Eynon (Gower Peninsula) via Tenby.

 

We left the marina and headed for Dale anchorage for the night.  For a change the anchorage was flat calm with very little roll and we had a good night there.  The following morning we motor-sailed south to Turbot Bank and then East to St Gowan’s SCM before shutting the engine off and sailing the remainder of the way to Tenby.  The anchorage in North Beach was quite busy but there was plenty of space and we enjoyed the afternoon sun and calm evening.  We made plans to head for Port Eynon the following morning and, as there was little wind, we had a very slow sail/drift with the tide in lovely sunshine.  However, once we had anchored in Port Eynon it soon became apparent that we couldn’t stay there.  The swell on the water was so bad that I was afraid the anchor would have been pulled out or, at the very least, we wouldn’t get any sleep.  We made the decision to head back to Tenby where we knew we would have a safe anchorage.  As there was no wind we needed to motor back but, just as we rounded West Helwick, the engine faltered.  At first I thought we were running out of fuel so I swapped the tanks over.  Very soon however it was obvious that something else was going on.  The engine would run for about 15 minutes at around 1800 rpm before dropping down to idle.  Although the engine didn’t cut out we were losing confidence in it.  By throttling back and then opening up again the engine revs would pick up for another 10-15 minutes before fading again.  DIESEL BUG!!!!  I began to realise that the engine was being starved of fuel by the dreaded diesel bug clogging the fuel filters.  We nursed the boat back to Tenby, by which time it was dark, and our eyes were trying to deceive us.  We had never anchored in the dark before and, with a failing engine, our anxiety levels reached new highs.  This wasn’t helped by the fact that the anchorage had become even more crowded since we left.  Anyway, after two attempts at setting the anchor in sufficient space we finally shut the engine down and breathed a huge sigh of relief.

 

The following morning I set about trying to fix the problem.  For those of you who don’t know, diesel ‘bug’ is actually a microbial contamination of diesel fuel.  It grows in the interface between the fuel and any water that may be in the tanks.  The problem is exacerbated by the increased use of biodiesel.  It looks gelatinous and clogs filter elements and can cause damage to diesel injectors if it gets too bad.  Not to worry, I have a set of fuel filters onboard……or so I thought!  Our fuel system has a Racor water-fuel separator with a 10 micron filter element upstream of the engine itself.  I soon discovered that I only had a spare element for the upstream Racor filter but not the engine filter itself.  Where to get a spare when anchored off a seaside resort beach on a Saturday?  I contacted the harbour master at Tenby who put me on to a marine mechanic in the area.  Unfortunately he was out fishing when I rang him so was unable to help us directly.  However, he did suggest speaking to one of the Caldy Island ferry boats that has the same engine as us to see if they had a spare.  Thankfully they did and were willing to sell me it, at cost price, to help us out.  I think that speaks volumes for the way people in the seafaring world will help each other out if they can.  I spent the next hour or so changing the fuel filters, bleeding the system, and running the engine.  It was clear that the Racor element was badly contaminated but the engine filter looked pretty clean so I was confident that no major damage had been done.  The engine appeared to be running smoothly once again and so we sailed back to Milford Marina on a beautiful day, only needing the engine for the final stage through the locks and into our berth.  Needless to say we now carry at least one set of spare filters on the boat at all times and the fuel tanks have been given a thorough dose of Marine-16 diesel bug treatment.

 

Another ‘memorable’ outing for us was an opportunity to take a motor-cruise up the Haven Waterway and under the Cleddau Bridge for lunch at Lawrenny.  At least that was the plan.  Bridget’s mum was with us and, as she is a nervous seafarer, I thought it would be a lovely, gentle introduction to what it’s like ‘sailing’ up the river.  We would be motoring up against the tide but that wouldn’t be a problem as we were on neap tides.  Also, by the time we would be returning there would be a gentle breeze astern that would help us home again.  All was going well.  We left the marina and headed upstream with me chatting and pointing out things of interest.  The Irish Sea Ferries “Blue Star 1” was heading towards us so I gave it plenty of space and once past I looked up and saw a starboard marker buoy off in the distance.  I decided to aim towards that.  Then all of a sudden we came to a dead stop.  At first I thought we had snagged a fishing pot line or something, but then I saw that the depth gauge was reading zero!  We had run aground with a falling tide.  I quickly engaged reverse but we were stuck fast on Wear Spit.  I radioed the coastguard and Port Control to let them know and then set about checking that there were no immediate issues with the boat.  All appeared sound albeit we were starting to lean over.  The tide had another hour and a half to fall before coming back up.  We had no choice other than to sit it out.  We all had lifejackets on and we had plenty of water (just not under the keel!) so we sat on the toerail and willed the tide to turn.  It was a very anxious time.  We had no idea how far over we would go or if we would settle on a rock that might puncture the hull.  If we went fully over we would have taken on water which, although we couldn’t sink (we were already on the seabed), would have inundated the electrics and caused all sorts of issues.  Thankfully the area we had run aground was soft mud and sand and we settled about 45 degrees to port.  We finally refloated about 3 hours later and I quickly reversed us off the spit and headed back to the marina.  We never did get under the bridge and up to Lawrenny but we were relieved to be back alongside with no damage done (other than my embarrassment).  What I learned from that was how easy it is to get distracted and see what you want to see.  The starboard buoy I was aiming for was some way off in the distance and I failed to spot the port buoy much closer to us that marked the end of the spit.  I basically tried to drive right over a Wear Spit at near low tide.  That’s something I won’t do again.

 

The third ‘memorable’ trip I will recount was early last summer.  We decided that we would head for the west coast of Scotland, something we had wanted to do since we bought Wendy Woo.  We planned, checked weather forecasts, spoke to lots of people and decided to go for it.  We also invested in a new tablet and Navionics software to assist us in our navigation and passage planning.  Once again we headed out of the marina for Dale anchorage to position ourselves for getting the tides right for passing through Jack Sound the following day.  The following morning we lifted anchor and headed around St Ann’s Head for Jack Sound and beyond.  The water was quite choppy but we made it through the Sound with no drama, following a fellow Hillyard “Moonstone of Marlow”.  Once safely clear of the Sound we lifted the mainsail and headsail and slowly sailed towards Little Haven.  We planned to anchor there for the evening but, as we still had plenty of the day in front of us, we decided to head further north towards Ramsay Island and Ramsey Sound.  As with Jack Sound, you have to get the tides right to pass through Ramsey Sound without risk so we decided to anchor in Porthlysgi Bay just south of the Sound until the following morning.  This was a lovely protected small bay with only one other boat in there with us.  We anchored successfully.  However, when I checked the charts on Navionics the GPS placed us right above a wreck.  I didn’t say anything to Bridget but I was worried that our anchor would snag and not come back up.  It niggled in the back of my mind all night and had the potential to ruin our plans.  The wind also picked up a bit in the night further conspiring to ensure that I didn’t sleep particularly well.  The following afternoon we finally lifted the anchor again (I had nothing to worry about) and headed through Ramsay Sound and into Porth Melgan just to the north where we spent that night in a slightly rolly anchorage.  Our plan for the following day was to set off for Fishguard before crossing Cardigan Bay heading for North Wales.  However, there was no wind to be had and we didn’t really want to drive everywhere so we decided to head back south through Ramsay Sound and back into Porthlysgi Bay.  All was fine until darkness came.  The sea became more and more rolly with a big swell heading straight into the bay.  It was extremely uncomfortable and we lasted until about 4 in the morning when I decided we couldn’t stay any longer.  We decided to head back to the marina and re-plan.  Because the tides weren’t going to be right to go back through Jack Sound we decided to head out around Skomer and Skokholm Islands.  However, visibility was getting worse, rain was falling and, although there was no wind, the sea was becoming more and more confused.  This is where having the tablet with Navionics at the helm proved a godsend.  Despite not being able to actually see the islands I was able to ‘see’ them on the GPS charts and so we motored for 6 hours to get around the islands and back in through St Ann’s Head.  We felt as though we had been given a thorough beating and we were so relieved to set anchor in Dale once again.  Of course then the sun came out, blue skies all around and a settled sea.  We stayed in Dale until freeflow at the marina where we returned to our berth, very relieved to be back alongside.  Conditions can change so quickly, and once again we were humbled by the sea and its power and grace.  But Wendy Woo proved herself to be far more capable than her crew and, despite being thrown about, nothing got broken.  In fact,  I have broken more wine glasses washing up whilst alongside than we have done when under way.

 

So, those are the journeys of note in the past 3 years.  I will save the story of the ‘big journey’ until a later blog post.  In Part 2 I will talk about repairs and upgrades but in the meantime, thanks for reading and please feel free to comment below.

Problems: Repairs and Monitoring

We never expected to have a trouble-free boating life, but we (naively) thought that we would have some respite from maintenance work after all the refurbishment work we did.  However, that has proved not to be the case.  I have been saying that I would blog about the maintenance and repairs we have been compelled to carry out since rounding Land’s End and so this blog entry will aim to do just that.  The following aspects are not listed in chronological order and cover some aspects of repair and others where we have decided to monitor for the time being until an opportunity presents itself for full repair.

 

The first issue I want to talk about is the stern tube assembly.  The stern tube is a tube through which the prop shaft spins, connecting the engine to the propeller (I know, Granny and Eggs spring to mind, but bear with me!)  Since this tube is underwater it clearly has to be sealed at either end to prevent the ingress of seawater whilst also allowing the prop shaft to spin freely.  There are various different styles of sealing methods used but all essentially rely on a packing material (in our case, rope) clamped around the shaft by a gland nut.

  The packing material is lubricated with grease which you pump into it via a brass pump.  Some gland nuts are designed to allow a small (drip) amount of water through to help keep the packing cool when the shaft is spinning.  By all accounts, as ours is a greased type, we shouldn’t have water coming through.  When we arrived in Milford I noticed that the bilge area around the stern gland had about a litre or so of seawater in it.  Up to this point this area had been dry.  I mopped out the water and thought that the gland nut needed adjusting.  I then pumped in more grease only to notice that the grease was oozing out from behind the gland nut assembly.

  This is not good news!  The stern tube should be screwed into the back of the assembly and therefore there are only two ways this grease could escape.  Either the tube is not screwed in (far enough or at all) or the tube itself has corroded through and become holed.  The only way to know for sure is to remove the prop shaft and the stern tube, but this can only be done with the boat out of the water.  Once again we find ourselves wondering why this issue hadn’t manifested itself before we had the boat lifted out at Gweek.  I have cleaned up the area, adjusted the gland nut and continue to monitor the situation, but this is only delaying the inevitable.  Thankfully there has been very little water coming in, and it only appears if we have had to push the engine hard, so I am hoping it will hold out until at least next spring.  We are facing another hefty bill to rectify this one, particularly if the stern tube needs to be replaced.  Oh the joys of wooden boat ownership!

 

The next issue I want to talk about is an ongoing saga with the toe rail and fairlead.  You may recall in a much earlier post that we had sustained damage to the toe rail when someone had put weights on our mooring lines when in Dartmouth.  I had carried out a temporary repair when we got to Mylor last year, but it was always going to be a weak spot.  Then when we were on the swinging mooring earlier this year the fairlead was ripped out again along with a large chunk of the toe rail.  A more permanent repair was going to be needed.  I managed to source a length of iroko from a timber merchant near the marina and decided that I would scarph in a new piece to restore the strength needed to support the fairlead.  This was easier said than done.  I cut the original toe rail aft of the second stanchion so that the new piece would be well supported and fitted a bracing piece on the inside to give the scarph joint sufficient strength.  The job is not particularly pretty and there are many carpenters out there who would have made a much better job of it than me, but I gave it a go.  Having replaced the fairlead I thought all was well.  However, I still wasn’t happy that this area would hold up under the strain of a mooring line.  I noticed that the toe rail was being twisted every time the mooring line was under tension.  It would only be a matter of time before it was damaged again, so a rethink was needed.

  I decided that it would be better if the fairlead was fastened directly to the deck rather than sitting on top of the toe rail.  This meant cutting the toe rail back from the stem head to leave a gap for the mooring lines to pass through.  This works much better, and doesn’t look too bad.
 
I just wish I had thought of that idea before doing the toe rail scarph as I could have kept the original toe rail and just cut out the damage.  Oh well, you live and learn!

Everyone says that owning a wooden boat means dealing with leaks, and that certainly seems to be true.  We also expect to have water collecting in the bilge which can be mopped or pumped out.  However, one particular leak is worth talking about.  We were regularly getting a fair amount of water collecting in the galley bilge and under the galley floor boards.  We had been advised to taste the water to see if it was salty, the theory being that you could eliminate fresh/rain water leaks rather than seawater leaks.  Sure enough, the water tasted salty and so we guessed that it was probably an underwater seam that was leaking when the boat was being bounced around.  When we had the boat out of the water at Gweek we thoroughly examined all of the underwater seams and found nothing amiss.  Perhaps it was one of the, now replaced, keel bolts that was the source of the leak.  However, we were still getting water collecting in this area.  There was no obvious sign of entry.  Sometimes there would be a lot of water and others there would be only a small amount, but it was frustrating me.  Then I realised that the presence of a large amount of water coincided with filling the water tanks.  Why hadn’t I noticed this before?  I lifted the saloon floorboards and watched as I filled the tanks.  Sure enough, there was a leak from the tank lid and one of the pipe connection flanges.  I ordered new seals and now we have a dry bilge.  I ask, why hadn’t I thought of this before.  I’ll tell you why.  I was misled by the notion that salty water could only be a seawater leak.  When you put fresh water into the bilge of a 55 year old wooden boat it soon becomes salty due to a build-up of years on the water.  The rule of thumb may be true in many cases, but it’s not always the case, and shouldn’t be used to misguide you from other potential causes.  Lesson learnt?  Possibly!

 

The last topic I’ll cover in this entry is the electrics.  This is a combination of repairs and an ongoing plan to make ourselves more self-sufficient.  As you know we like to spend nights at anchor away from marinas whenever we can.  There are two things most skippers worry about constantly.  One is fresh water (of which we know we can last about six days) and the other is electrical power.  I constantly live in fear that the engine will fail to start when needed due to a flat battery.  We have a total of six lead-acid batteries arranged into three separate banks.  One bank is for the electric windlass (the anchor winch), one bank is for the engine starter and the other one is for the domestic electrical loads.  Even though they are separated in theory by an automatic battery isolator I was increasingly getting the feeling that the engine start batteries were being drained by the domestic loads.  I know that, again in theory, I can charge the batteries from the 240v battery charger as long as I can start the engine.  But if the start batteries are flat I won’t be able to get the engine going.  I was also beginning to think that the engine alternator wasn’t functioning properly either.  What to do?  Firstly I replaced the engine batteries as one of them was definitely not holding its charge.  I have also replaced the alternator and wired this directly to the engine batteries so that it only charges them and not the domestic batteries.  This now gives me the confidence that my engine batteries are completely separate and unable to be discharged by the domestic loads.  I have realised that the automatic battery isolator needs to be replaced as this isn’t working correctly, so that’s next on the cards.  I can still charge the domestic batteries by running the engine which can power the 240v battery charger via a separate generator.  All of this is a good step forwards, but we’re far from self-sufficient.  We have a 100w solar panel on the wheelhouse roof which is giving some charge but not enough.  The biggest electrical draw we have whilst at anchor is the fridge, and this one panel is nowhere near capable of delivering the charge to the batteries to keep up.  We need to increase our solar charging capacity as much as possible.  Space is at a premium so I have yet to work out how best to solve this one – the research is ongoing as is the cost!

 

Ok, so a bit of a long-winded summary of a year or so of repairs.  There are other things, like continual leaks, things breaking, instruments not working properly, etc., but nothing unexpected.  Keeping up with the big stuff is bad enough.  Till next time……! 

Where Did The Summer Go?

Those of you who have been following my blog won’t be surprised to know that it has been quite a while since I last posted anything.  Somehow other things keep taking up my time and I find that yet another month has gone by without me hitting the keyboard.  Therefore I thought that I would write something like a summary of what we have been up to since arriving in Milford Haven back in May.  Hopefully this blog entry will give you a taste of what challenges have faced us, repairs we have done and what our plans are going forwards.

Our journey around Land’s End was our first (and to date only) major passage and we felt a great sense of achievement having safely arrived in Milford Marina.  We planned to stay a night in the marina to restock the boat and rest before taking up a swinging mooring at a boatyard further up the River Cleddau.  We ended up staying three nights as the wind picked up and we didn’t fancy trying to pick up a mooring buoy in difficult conditions.  It also occurred to us that getting on and off the boat from a mid-river swinging mooring in a fast flowing current without an outboard motor was going to be nigh on impossible (or at least reckless).  We had been talking about getting an outboard motor for a long time.  We toyed with the idea of electric outboards, second-hand engines or buying new.  We had been given the opportunity to try a Torqeedo electric outboard whilst we had been at Mylor and we were reasonably impressed with it.  However, charging the batteries would be a problem if we spent a lot of time away from shore power.  Second-hand petrol engines could be a minefield.  We might have been lucky and found a good one that had been looked after, but when you are relying on it for your safety I wasn’t willing to take the risk.  And so we found ourselves buying a new Mariner 4hp outboard motor and I have to say that I am very impressed with it so far.  We have used it many times over the past few months and it seems more than capable of ferrying us from boat to shore and it uses very little fuel (so I don’t feel as though we have compromised on our environmental credentials too much).

We left the marina to take up our swinging mooring which we had booked for a month in advance.  I have to say that we were less than impressed with the boatyard on this occasion.  It was only by chance that we spoke to them a couple of days before our arrival and mentioned that Wendy Woo weighs in at 20 tons.  They hadn’t thought to ask us and had told us we could use any mooring buoy on arrival.  However, having told them our weight they quickly changed that and told us to use one of the last two buoys on the river as these were the only ones rated for our weight.  Furthermore, when we arrived there had been no preparation of the buoy itself and we found that the pick-up buoy and mooring strop were completely twisted around the riser chain making it impossible to lift it over the bow.  Thankfully a member of the boatyard team happened to pass by in a RIB and helped us untangle the lines and moor up safely.  Lessons learnt: always mention the weight of your boat when booking a mooring and don’t assume that the mooring buoy will be easy to attach to.  In hindsight we could have tried lassoing the buoy to make the initial attachment and then sorted it out later, but we hadn’t had much practice on mooring buoys at this stage.

Our month on the mooring buoy presented a number of challenges.  The river current at this point is particularly strong on spring tides.  Getting on and off the boat usually involved us getting wet and we were glad that we had bought the outboard motor as rowing against the current would have been very difficult.  Resupplying the boat usually took two or three return trips.  We broke up our time on the mooring by visiting family.  This meant that we also had to get Lily (our cat) on and off the boat.  She coped remarkably well with the ordeal, probably better than I did!  Our main challenge however, was riding out a Force 9 storm that came straight at us for nearly 24 hours.  The mooring itself was sheltered from all directions except the South-West and yes, you guessed it, that was where the storm came from.  We spent a sleepless night on board hoping that our mooring lines would hold us.

We had placed extra lines out to give some assurance but then you just have to sit there and be ready to act if it all goes wrong.  Thankfully our lines held, but the toe rail repair I had carried out was ripped out, and this time the fairlead ended up in Davy Jones’ locker.  Thankfully this was the only damage sustained.  Not so for one of the other yachts on the moorings as we could only watch helplessly as the wind managed to unfurl their headsail and rip it to shreds.

Once our month on the swinging mooring was up we prepared for leaving.  Our plan was to try and spend 5-6 days at anchor before having a night in a marina for a ‘shore shower redemption’ and replenishment before leaving again.  However, no plan survives first contact with the enemy.  In this case the enemy was the weather which, for most of the summer, has been fickle to say the least.  So, although we did manage several stints at anchor we were anxious that we had somewhere to go to if the weather changed for the worse.  Another ‘enemy’ was Covid-19.  Rumours were rife that Wales might have been heading for another lockdown and this might have meant that we would not be allowed into any marinas as visitors.  I spoke with Milford Marina on several occasions about the potential for problems with lockdowns.  We had our names down for a winter berthing package and they said that there ‘shouldn’t’ be a problem if the Welsh Government announced another lockdown but this didn’t fully allay our concerns.  Thankfully we were able to persuade them to allocate us an annual berth in the marina and so we find ourselves with a place we can call ‘home’ if lockdowns do continue.

Living in a marina is not what we really had planned.  However, it is serving a purpose for the time being.  It has allowed friends and family to come and visit us and the location of Milford Marina is ideal for access to some great sailing grounds.  Milford Haven Waterway is pretty well sheltered from the worst of the weather.  Yes, you have to dodge large oil and gas tankers, and the oil refineries don’t present the best backdrop for photographs, but other than that it is a great location for exploring further afield.  Having said that, our adventures have been curtailed somewhat by the aforementioned fickle weather.  Several times we have done all the passage planning to head for Tenby, Fishguard and further up the Welsh coastline only to be thwarted by strong winds and/or rough seas.  Perhaps bolder sailors than us would have pressed on regardless, but we want to enjoy sailing rather than endure it.  We have managed to complete a few trips and a couple of them are worthy of specific mention.

The first passage we did we were aiming for Fishguard.  This entails passing through both Jack Sound and Ramsey Sound, and you have to get the tide timings spot on otherwise you can get stuck in violent tidal races.  You have to pass through the sounds at slack water and you have an hour and a half to get from one to the other.  We arrived at Jack Sound, which separates Skomer Island from the mainland, exactly on time and we passed through without incident, although the water looked as though it was boiling.  However, having got into St Bride’s Bay the wind dropped and, if we were to make it to Ramsey Sound on time, we would have had to motor all the way.  We decided that, rather than push on we would explore St Bride’s Bay instead and look to anchor for the night.  St Bride’s Bay holds a special place in our hearts.  For many years we brought our boys to the beaches along the bay where we camped and messed around in the sea.  Newgale, Solva, Broad Haven, Little Haven, have all borne witness to our family trips.  Approaching these places now from the sea gave a whole new perspective.  We approached Newgale first and then tacked our way south to eventually drop anchor off Little Haven.  We stayed for the night looking at the lights in the village and remembering good times.

 

The following morning dawned with fog all around us.  We knew that a northerly force 7 was due by the end of the day so we had to find a more sheltered anchorage.  We knew of a small bay in the neck of Skomer Island that would give us shelter so we headed off in the fog to go back around the island, this time taking the seaward side.  The chart showed turbulent water close to the island and the almanac recommends keeping two miles off.  I thought that I had given the island a wide enough berth, but no.  I underestimated the distance and we got caught in the Wild Goose Race to the west of Skomer Island.  The tidal current was flowing very fast and the water was all over the place.  I pushed the engine hard and, although we were doing 7 knots through the water we were only just making headway.  I steered us further off shore in the hope of finding calmer water and once again Wendy Woo looked after us.  We made it safely to the anchorage, but not without given ourselves a fright!

The fright was worth it though.  We got ourselves close in to the anchorage and stayed there for two nights listening to the wind howl over the top of the island.  And we were treated to the sight of thousands of puffins and guillemots flying around and diving into the water.  There was also a family of seals swimming in amongst the rocks and basking in the sunshine.  We will never tire of seeing such amazing creatures.

 

The second of our passages saw us making our way eastwards to Tenby.  The Bristol Channel is a very tidal waterway with strong currents either helping or hindering progress.  We planned our passage to make best use of the east going flood tide which meant that we would need to be at St Ann’s Head for around 9am.  We left our berth in the marina and headed out to St Ann’s Head as planned and we were all ready to turn south-east when the range safety patrol boat approached us.  This stretch of coastline is home to several military ranges: Castlemartin, Manorbier, Penally, to name a few.  We made radio contact with the range and we were told that we needed to keep 3 miles west and 4 miles south of Linney Head (it could have been worse, they can send you 12 miles south!)  So we altered our course plan to comply.  There wasn’t much wind and the water was smooth so we resigned ourselves to a slow motor-sail along the Bristol Channel, hoping to keep the favourable tide for most of the journey.  As we approached St Gowan Shoal cardinal buoy we were joined by a pod of dolphins, the first we had seen close to the boat.  They frolicked and played at our bow for about 20 minutes, rolling over to look up at us.  This was a truly magical moment.

We felt totally blessed by this gift from the natural world, but also outraged at the amount of rubbish we could see floating along the tideline in the Channel.  It encouraged us to do even more to reduce the amount of packaging we consume in our daily lives, as clearly recycling schemes don’t always work!  The rest of our journey to Tenby passed without incident and we anchored of the North Beach for a couple of nights in blistering heat.  The beach and town were packed with holiday makers and we were so glad that we had our own bit of space to relax in.

 

The remainder of our time this summer has been a mixture of frustrated passage planning and spending as many nights as possible at anchor away from the marina.  We had hoped to travel north as far as Liverpool, but each time we planned it the weather changed and frustrated our efforts.  We have had to accept that this is now part of next year’s plan to get as far as the west coast of Scotland.  Dale has become a favourite anchorage for us.  It has good shelter and holding, and there is easy access ashore using a seasonal pontoon.  This has enabled us to walk a good chunk of the Pembrokeshire Coastal Path as well as giving us inspiration for art and writing.

 

How well has Wendy Woo stood up?  In my next blog I will detail the problems we have encountered, repairs we have done, and what we plan next in order to keep her in good shape.  Till then, stay safe.