Alone Across the Atlantic

by Francis Chichester

  8th April. After a good sail down river and about the Solent, when I tried out reefing, also the setting and lowering of the big genoa, I went into the Beaulieu River at only 1 hour after dead low water. There should have been 2’ 6” + 8” = 3’ 2” above chart datum. I crossed the bar safely and was tacking across the river just inside when I went hard aground on the channel side of the line of stakes marking the channel edge. I dropped the main and tried the engine without avail. Then I dropped a kedge overboard. This was a mistake. I ought to have carried it out to midstream.

  I was on the putty just above Rae Pitt Rivers’house. The slack of the cable enabled G.M. to drift downwind bumping on the mud until she reached the end of the kedge scope. In the end I ran out the main anchor with a heavy warp in the dinghy and dropped the anchor in midstream. I soon recovered the kedge but when G.M. floated free I could not recover the main anchor.

  The wind drove the boat downstream hard on to the warp while the tide setting upstream caused the boat to lie across the direction of the anchor warp. I must have been trying for three-quarters of an hour heaving on the warp, starting and stopping the engine and trying various settings of the tiller. The trouble was that the anchor cable prevented the boat from gaining any speed with the engine on and it was impossible to steer the boat towards the anchor.

  All good things come to an end, however, and when I finally got the anchor aboard I felt grateful to be strong enough to do all the heaving and hauling without having a heart attack or something and after all I had learned a very salutary lesson. The Beaulieu River is not a river to tack across at low water with 6½ feet of draught. I went aground well inside the line of stakes marking the edge of the channel. Anyway, leaving the putty episode out of it, I had a wonderful sail. What fun it is and how exciting trying out each new thing. What I learnt today includes:

  (1) Under mainsail only, I can only make her steer herself by sailing close to the wind, i.e. by sacrificing speed. She will very nearly steer herself by frequent adjustment of the elastic cord tiller-lines and I hope the steering wind vane will look after the end-piece of the control.

  (2) The main halliard is very difficult to operate even with the wind no more than Force 4. I mean after reefing, when one wants to haul up the mainsail. I must fit a two-part tackle.

  (3) Some sort of tackle to outhaul the leech when reefing is quite essential. I wonder if an all shock-cord tackle would work with the changing load when rolling down the main?

  (4) A good thick rope tail to the jib halliard is needed, something to haul on so that one does not have to handle wire rope on the jib winch or more important, get wire rope off the winch when lowering the jib.

  (5) Item, bolt on starboard half of cabin door which bangs incessantly.

  (6) Item, catch on liquor locker.

  I think I should add that (A) the topping lift tackle which I fitted was a great success; (B) the quick-clip hooks for jib sheets to jib clews seemed very effective and are certainly very easy to handle.

  12th April. Stormy. Tacked up and down the Beaulieu River for 2½ hours in Force 6½ sometimes 7 at entrance.

  The roller reefing gear worked easily and with the outhaul arrangements the sail both rolled and set excellently. Also it is not too cumbersome when one remembers the different steps. Evidence of this is that I reefed while tacking down the river in Force 6 with the channel I would say 75 yards wide. I think it would be very easy with a self-steering device but the gusts made the load on the helm vary enormously, say, by 30 lb. pull, so that I could never leave the helm for long to get on with the reefing. Of course one must expect the big variation in helm load when setting a mainsail only. A headsail would at once take most of the change of load away. Meanwhile I could not be more grateful to have a boat which will handle easily with main only. Constant fiddling with jib-sheets on such a jaunt would be too much of a good thing.

  (2) I was several times apprehensive of losing the reefing handle or the winch handle. Must think up some arrangement of lanyard whereby they will not go overboard if dropped or if they come loose.

  (3) The boat was nearly down to her lee-rail at times and a main, twice reefed as today, is nearly enough sail in such conditions. She would be better with No. 3 jib and a third reef down perhaps.

  (4) The mooring was hard for me to pick up with strong wind against strong tide. The boat really sails herself pretty fast down wind with no sail set (in such a Force 6 wind) and I ought to have allowed for this. I made about six abortive passes at the mooring from different angles and finally came down wind uptide very slowly and got the buoy aboard. After some struggle I got the chain aboard. This is not to be wondered at considering how the yacht is now charging madly about on her mooring.

  (5) I rigged up the spinnaker boom with shock cord at various places and hope it may keep the dinghy quiet at the end of the boom. A bumping dinghy is hell.

  (6) I arrived back wet through from neck to stern, and learnt again what a wonderful thing is whisky with lemon and hot water. Plenty is needed, however.

  (7) Must have plenty of changes of jerseys, trousers, under-things, shirts, and socks.

  (8) My line from the head of the main down about 10 feet to a suitable slide worked very well, firstly for hauling down the top of the main and then for tying it up to the mast.

  (9) A tackle or some means of finer adjustment of the tiller-lines is required.

  Inkoosan’s owner complimented me on G. M.’s sailing. Said he had designed Inkoosan himself when I asked him who had done so. A powerful-looking boat.

  15th April. Watered. Filled both tanks full from empty. Took 59½ gallons. Dipped both tanks every 5 gallons and notched two dipsticks accordingly.

  Could not get up to the jetty in the morning with the strong tide and against a strong wind. As soon as I slowed down the wind bore the stem off and I lost control, risking much damage. I returned to the mooring feeling very savage at my failure. In the afternoon with wind and tide both ahead nothing could have been easier.

  16th April. I was expecting Tubby (Toe H) Clayton and party. He arrived with three young men. Then Edward and Belinda Montagu came aboard.

  Tubby robed in the fore cabin and held a very impressive little service of blessing the ship. There were ten of us standing in the cabin.

  Afterwards the boys skedaddled in the dinghy and when Tubby imperatively required to be put ashore, I started the motor and, somewhat fortified with ‘Liffey wather’, motored down to the jetty. It was within an hour of low water spring tide and the mud banks looked horrible. I recalled that the harbour master had said there was plenty of depth at the jetty at any tide. However, g-dunk we were on the putty 30 yards below the jetty after turning.

  We got Tubby and party off in the dinghy and he did not seem at all put out by our going on the mud. The river was emptying fast and we were well and truly sewed in no time. The H.M. came and took a warp from the masthead to the shore and pulled us over on to our side. Much to my relief because it would be no joke going over on the other side sloping down to midstream. As it was we heeled over 43° which is plenty in a boat as large as this.

  We were there about three hours before refloating. When the tide came in fast we righted at the rate of about a degree a minute which was fascinating. Giles was very good with the Aldis lamp helping me up to the mooring in the dark. The Aldis beam is an unbelievable aid and joy after the torches and poor lights I have been used to before. I would say it shows objects up half a mile away.

  Well, for a ship to be blessed and to be on the shore within an hour must be something of a record. Tubby told me that fishermen always insist on one net being left unblessed. Every trawler thinks he has that net and will catch fish whereas the blessing by a sky pilot will bring bad catches.

  17th April. Easter Sunday. We had a delightful family sail to Cowes and then to Newtown Creek. G. M. III is a delight to sail and goes well. However, in the Newtown Creek I put her hard on the mud again. I was pretty depressed because it was within an hour
of high water springs and with every succeeding tide lower I foresaw the yacht on her side for a fortnight. Everyone worked like a beaver and we were helped by another visiting yachtsman in a dinghy who advised us where the sand bank lay and the best chance of getting off into the channel.

  We toiled away rocking the boat from side to side by everyone aboard stepping from side to side in unison. We laid out two kedges and hauled hard. Finally pulled off towards the big anchor. We had to cast off the warp to the small kedge; then the yacht drifted the other side of a perch marking the edge of the channel from where the anchor lay. The anchor warp became useless and we grounded again. One misses a reverse gear on such occasions. Our amazingly helpful friend from the yacht Gadfly helped free the warp from the pole and he then carried the anchor afresh out into the channel. I clapped a jigger onto the warp and set the jigger onto the cockpit winch. This has immense power and the anchor warp came aboard inch by inch until the yacht was hauled clear. The muscles in my shoulders and neck certainly ached after that little drama and everyone aboard, the two boys and Sheila, had had enough exercise. We remained on the anchor and later at dark when it was low water Giles and I recovered the kedge and its terylene warp, to my relief.

  It was lovely in the creek next day with hot sunshine after a frosty night and the quiet was out of this world. We tried to land at low water to visit Dick Kindersley but could not get ashore for the mud. We had a lovely sail home. G. M. III seems to be rearing to go like a young horse full of oats. I believe she is as keen on this transatlantic race as I am. We dined well at the Master Builders after a gorgeous bath.

  19th April. The family returned to London and I worked on board. Fitted handy stowage just inside the cabin doors for binoculars, Very pistol with red and white cartridges, Aldis lamp, torch, foghorn and loudspeaker. Rigged speedometer. Rigged compass light. After dark tried out all lights, compass, masthead, navigation. Fitted various hooks for hanging up different articles and lengths of shock-cord with hooks and eyes for secure stowage of wine bottles and other things.

  20th April. Fine sunny. Cold NNE. wind.

  I went out into the Solent and tried out my reefing arrangements. The boom-end gave endless trouble and it took me 20 minutes for each set of rolls. I must get the boom-end fitting strengthened and the lugs cut off – they catch every half-roll, which is awkward unless the boom is inboard, i.e. unless the yacht is on the wind.

  I also tried sailing with a genoa only. She goes much faster with the genny than with the main, 7½ compared with 5½ knots on the clock, but of course she is not so nice to tack, does not sail so close to the wind as with the main and needs the runners setting up to get rid of the sag in the luff. It was gusting and cold at times but sunny.

  I lowered all sail and drifted up the Solent while I fried up potatoes, onions and eggs. The U.S.A. Vertue (Puritan) passed and waved; also a submarine S 25 (but no waving).

  21st April. Heard the cuckoo. Lovely spring morning, sunny. The young leaves are beginning to tint the thorn bushes. I sailed down the river, tacking in and out of the moored boats which was good fun. Opposite the Swatch I anchored and began compass adjustment.

  I put down two anchors. The tide began running out like a millrace. In order to observe west on the compass I cast loose the kedge warp. G.M. was now anchored by the stern and stern-on to the current but she did not like it and charged about madly. I feared grounding with the falling tide but I could not regain the anchor, the current was so strong. In fact I could only move the rudder against it with an effort. I decided to pick up the small kedge and anchor from the stem, then let go the big anchor at the stern.

  G.M. has a malicious sense of humour. As soon as I tried to approach with the small kedge warp in the dinghy she fairly charged down on me like an angry bull, rode the dinghy down forcing it under the stern. I thought the dinghy and I were going to be pushed under the water. I managed to keep afloat but I had plenty of fun before I finally got the kedge laid out afresh. As soon as I had got back aboard, she became quite docile again. I shall be very wary of trying to hold her stem-on to a strong current in future; there is no joy in it.

  After lunch I spent the afternoon in the yard where we mounted the vane mast to a post with only the topsail set. It worked but only just. I reckon it will need the whole sail (i.e. spanker as well) to make it effective. There is a lot to do on it but at least there is something to show. On the whole I think it will work. Will know more tomorrow when they come to inspect the fitting of the tube in the stern to hold the vane mast.

  It’s a grand life, how I love it.

  23rd April. Today seems to have been pretty full. This morning fitting the Heron Homer D/F set which I received last night. I rigged up the various instruments in the handiest spots; the ‘loop’with the compass I placed where the compass will act as a ‘tell-tale’for me while at the chart table.

  I left the mooring at 10.20 and sailed down the four miles of river to the bar in leisurely fashion with the light NNE. wind. The harbour master tells me there are 200 moorings in the river now.

  In the Solent I first compared the speed effect of sailing dead downwind with the genoa goosewinged out on the opposite side to the mainsail and that of sailing 30, 35 or 40 ° off downwind with the genny and the main both on the same side. The speed seemed unchanged. This was a disappointment because I hoped the sailing off downwind, say 30 ° off, would result in a higher speed which would make it worth while for the extra distance covered. I shall be unable to steer straight downwind with the self-steering vane (always assuming it is going to work otherwise) because the backstay will be in the way of it.

  Another disappointment is that it is almost impossible to sail the yacht hands-off either on a reach or a run. The slightest change of wind changes the load on the rudder and if that has been trimmed successfully for one wind strength it becomes unstable immediately there is the slightest change. If the wind vane does not work I am certainly in for a gruelling trans-Atlantic passage. What I have seen so far of the makings of the wind vane does not make me happy. I think the yard have made it so heavy and cumbersome it will take a Force 3 to actuate it. (I was wrong.)

  Next I tried reefing practice. With the block at the boom-end changed, the reefing was a cheering success. I took six minutes over-the first set of rolls, nine minutes over the second and six minutes over the third. The sail set very well indeed; in fact I have never seen a reefed sail set so well before. So that’s good. And the time taken was chiefly used in repeated visits to the helm trying to make her sail herself for a minute at a time. The changing size of the mainsail unbalanced the trim apart from anything else. I measured up the amount of sail reefed and made it 8 feet high by a mean width of 15½ feet, a total of 124 out of a total of 380 square feet of mainsail. I shook out all the reefs in eight minutes.

  I scuttled back to the river using the motor to reach the bar before it became too shallow for G.M. III’s 6½-feet draught.

  Sailed up the river till I reached a north-south reach when I picked up a mooring and began observing for compass adjustment. After a set of readings of the steering compass and the handbearing compass from the stern pulpit, from the dinghy (as a check), and in the cabin where I use the D/F hand-held compass, all these while headed north into the outgoing stream, I had a snooze till the tide turned half an hour later. Then I repeated all the observations while headed south into the incoming stream.

  I got lots of messages through Sheila from America and various people in England about the race, but I feel I have my hands full to get to the starting line fully prepared and I just cannot take any interest in them, or rather deal with them. My cabin table is thick with letters, papers, and documents about the race. Some I have not even read yet.

  Got the swinging cabin table to work and left a bottle standing on it also a vase of primroses while sailing. I left the paraffin Aladdin alight while sailing and that was quite happy.

  Tomorrow I hope for a full day’s sailing, so that I can try running with t
wins. Unfortunately I have only one boom but perhaps I can make do with my very long boat-hook if the wind is light.

  My hands are so sore that anything hurts them. For example I work the sink pumps with my small fingers to spare the bigger ones. My fingers so swollen that I can not close some of them and several fingernails torn into the quick. And last night I had difficulty in sleeping for longer than a few minutes because the muscle or whatever it is in my shoulder behind my neck ached so much.

  2. April 25th to May 8th

  Losing the Dinghy – Wind Vane Delays – The Dinghy Hunt

  – Sunshine and Good Breeze – The Search – Cold and Many

  Shifts of Wind – A Night Out – The Thrill of the Wind Vane

  – Trial Run with David Parkes – ‘You are in Business!’ –

  Freddy, George or Miranda? – She Works Well – Her Limitations

  25-4-60.

  .….….….….….….….….….….….…,

  Insurance Brokers.

  Dear Mr Boler,

  I regret to report the loss of my dinghy yesterday. This

  includes a leather seat cushion, but otherwise only the shell.

  It was made by W. A. Souter, Cowes and I will try to replace

  it exactly at once, subject to your agreement.

  The circumstances of the loss were: the dinghy came adrift

  after snapping its tow-painter in the tide-rip outside the Bridge

  Buoy at the Needles. I sailed up to it twice but there was no

  chance of getting hold of it in the disturbed sea while under

  sail. I therefore drew off while lowering sail, but this took a