Sea Passage

19th-26th August

I had thought I would be able to write this blog as we went along and in this way give a more accurate impression of what it is like to make a long sea passage, but it was not to be. We left the marina at the end of the afternoon, having first filled up with enough fuel for the journey, but no more than that since we would fill up again in Bizerte where fuel is very much cheaper. Once out to sea the conditions were good, the wind was behind us, pushing us along gently, and we relaxed for the first time that day.

We enjoyed a peaceful 24 hours: reading, dreaming, watching the sea, making the occasional sail change. The wind, what there was of it, was slowly moving round to the east, as predicted, and we would not be able to make a direct course to Bizerte but we had expected that. A direct route, with good wind, would have seen us in Bizerte in around four days but that wasn't going to happen. It didn't matter, we wanted to experience a longer passage anyway, that was the purpose in taking this route.

We always take three hour night watches when we are at sea. Tony would prefer four hours but I can't manage more than three: it is just so boring! Tony wanders around, makes himself tea and coffee, updates the chart, looks around. I just look around and, while I happily look around at nothing all day long, at night I just... get bored. The nights were clear, there was a full moon and a sky full to overflowing with stars... but I still got bored.

The first night we managed normal watches: one of us in the cockpit, the other in bed. After that things went wrong for a few nights. One night I slept in the cockpit because I was feeling seasick and couldn't face going below deck, other nights I slept in the saloon, bed seeming a long way away and not at all appealing and then, finally, at the end of the passage, I slept in the forward cabin... that was so comfortable! Tony usually chooses to sleep in the saloon, just in case he is needed in a hurry because his competent crew is... incompetent!

By the second morning the wind had finally moved round to the east, as predicted. I had already read one book and had given into the temptation to start another. The meals I had eaten were sitting heavily in the pit of my stomach, my head was throbbing and trying to read was the worst thing I could be doing. But I did it anyway. Tony had set a course northwards, away from the Algerian coast, and Ganymede was in rolling mode... not from side to side but up and down, up and down, up and down, forever, UP and DOWN, up and DOWN, UP and down... this was not good.

For four days we tacked up and down, first north towards the Balearics then south again towards Algeria. We made some progress, most days. The worst was a twelve hour period when we tacked first north then south, twelve hours of it... and we progressed seven miles! I had given up eating, the food just sat there in my stomach, taunting me. I sipped water, I even took a couple of seasick pills... and after book number two, I gave up trying to read. That helped! Tony was on his own when it came to meals.

After the seven miles in twelve hours debacle Tony insisted we head north. The day started badly and continued to get worse. The wind was slowly rising and the sea was decidedly rough. By evening the waves were breaking all around us and even on the horizon it was possible to see the spray made by huge waves. We were more than a little unhappy. Tony wanted to continue north, to head for Sardinia, where he was convinced that conditions would be better. I wasn't convinced, the sea around Sardinia always seems to be under threat of storms, winds, tempests, but Tony is in charge and I wasn't exactly being a very useful member of the crew. And then, as the sun was going down, the wind changed. We could no longer hold a reasonable course, so it was all change again, back towards Algeria. The wind had taken control of our course once again.

In fact, that was to be our last sail change. The wind slowly turned to the north west and we started to make good progress. All night and all day we sailed. We hadn't seen many boats since leaving Spain but now, as we followed the Algerian coast there seemed to be one cargo boat after another. And these were BIG boats. There was no slacking on watch with these around. I've lost track of time now but around day six we decided to try out the radar alarm. Now, this is our seventh season cruising with Ganymede and this was the first time we had considered the alarm might be useful. It took about half an hour of Tony fiddling around with the various controls before resorting to the instruction book... then we set the alarm to four miles, then three... and eventually we decided that one mile would be perfect. We didn't want that alarm sounding every few minutes! So... it worked. So... we switched it off again.

The sailing was good and I was feeling better but not better enough to be able to eat or to think of going down to the galley to prepare food. Fortunately, the instant stuff I had bought was holding out well and Tony wasn't starving. But I was beginning to think of the meal we would have in Bizerte when we were safely tied up in the marina.

Slowly we realised that sailing conditions were not just good... they were perfect. The wind had been steadily moving round all day and we were now sailing at 8.5 knots, racing along. Tony started muttering things like, 'of course, it is going to move to the east again'. Just what I wanted to hear! We were now in Tunisian waters, Bizerte was beckoning. And the thought came, if we just kept going we would be in Castellammare tomorrow night, one more night passage and it would be over. And conditions were perfect, couldn't be better. If we went into Bizerte we were sure to stay there several days... Ron and Sheenagh were in Sardinia: our phones had started working, picking up signal first from Algeria and then Tunisia and we had been able to exchange information. Conditions in Sardinia were, if anything, even worse. Time was moving on, we had a week to get to Calabria.

Five miles from Bizerte and the wind was still blowing us along at 8.5+ knots. Hmmm. We were tired. We didn't know the port. And I could always eat Spaghetti al Vongole in that lovely little restaurant by the harbour in Castellammare. AND it would be our last night at sea. No-brainer really. We continued on our way, heading out of Tunisian waters and to the open sea once more.

As usual, Tony took the first watch and when I went to bed we were still racing along. I was lying there, listening to the wind, thinking that perhaps we had too much sail up, when I heard the radar alarm... it was really quite persistent so I got up to investigate. Tony was at the wheel looking fraught. We were sailing along with only the tri-colour light at the top of the mast, signaling to other ships that we were going along on sail power only. A huge boat was passing on our port side, another on our starboard side and then, to make matters really difficult a simply HUGE cargo boat, one of those new monsters that seem to be about a mile long, was cutting across everyone's path. No wonder Tony was looking frantic. For the next hour we dodged boats on all sides. We had never on any other passage met so many boats passing so close together. Did the alarm help? Well, we switched it off so that may tell you something. What we did decide was that one mile was not enough notice of a nearby ship.

Of course, the wind died and for the first time in days we decided to use the engine. After the panic life returned to the usual quiet night passage. Had we made a mistake not stopping in Bizerte? Well, if we had, it was too late now. But by mid-morning next day the wind was with us again, not exactly in the best direction, but helping us along. And then the engine was off, we were sailing comfortably along, that wonderful sensation when the noise of the engine ceases and all that can be heard is the sound of the wind in the sails and the movement of Ganymede as she moves steadily through the waves, a comfortable movement, not in the least sick-making. I was beginning to feel better, not enough to read, or get out the computer, or even so some of the knitting I had planned to do (I need the instructions... which were in the computer!) and certainly not enough to eat but I could go below, I even managed to prepare some food for Tony. The thought of the vongole was keeping me going.

Ron and Sheenagh were still in Sardinia. Tony texted our position as we neared Capo San Vito on the north western coast of Sicily. We were nearly there. Soon we would see the town of Castellammare, the city walls, the new sea wall, not yet finished. The passage had taken seven days. On that last day of an easterly wind Tony had said we were never making a long passage again, we were going to Greece and we were staying there. As the wind changed in our favour and the sailing became easier he thought that after we had seen Ron and Sheenagh's boat on to the container ship we would go to Siracusa and then make passage to Croatia, there was time before the end of the season. As conditions got better still and we were more and more comfortable he thought that it was a pity we couldn't make the Atlantic crossing...