After rain comes sunshine….and this is actually true also in Cork.  We wake to a gorgeous morning, dead calm and a piercing sun.  We want to leave at 1000 and prepare for that.  Some last minute acquisitions and we pay our dues at the Marina…..and we pick up the original spare part from Volvo Penta (!) that arrived this morning.  So now we have two pressure oil pipes, one excellent of copper and one less good but original – if the guys at the marina are correct.  We feel safe and secure.

Off as planned.  We go with the tide and are swept out of the Cork basin in a wiff, making 10 knots on the GPS.  The sun is crystal clear but the air is pretty cold and there is a rising swell from the west, a remnant from some distant storm from some yesterday.  We incrementally dress more and more heavily and we roll a lot, and rock.

We have now passed the continental shelf and are over the Abyssal Plains of Biscay, 4000 m. deep.  There were no freak waves and on the surface the sea looks pretty much the same, possibly better; the waves are more regular and we make extremely good speed.  The sea is teeming with life.  Various kinds of sea birds display phenomenal aeronautical skills and swoop in about an inch above the constantly moving waves…and the dolphins: it would seem pretentious to claim understanding the mind of dolphins but it is easy to conclude that they are just having fun.  Goofing off.  Jumping, rolling, from left and right and everywhere.  Such a joy and relief just to watch them.

At 2100 hours, Wednesday evening there was a loud crack and immediately the genua started to flutter, just perceptibly.  Nothing dramatic, really, but something was the matter to the point where skipper, who was in bed, dressed up in full gear and went on deck.  Nothing faulty could be seen but even sheeting the genua did not take away the flutter.  All of sudden the entire sail fell into the water only attached to the boat by the three horns.  Alarm!  Sail was retrieved and stuffed down the forward hatch into the toilet so there is now a crash cushion there for the poor ones trying to do their things in the bucking enclosure (came to think of it: Bucking(ham) Palace…oh, so sorry!).  In the morning we retrieved the remnants of the shackle, the piece that attaches the halyard to the sail.  It had snapped from fatigue, possibly as a result of our endeavours outside Kristiansand last week (?)  We were going along smoothly when it happened, no “crash landings” (Aquaryd simply does not crash a lot), wind 11 m/s  with a full genua only going downwind (apparent wind speed approx. 8 m/s).  Should not have been excessive..

We started to work with the engine that stopped 2 days ago with the intention that “just change the diesel filter, pump out the air and start up.  Not so !  We pumped and p8umped and pumped….and then we called Thomas H on the satellite.  Do this, do that…..after 6 full hour the engine finally sprung to life.  By then we had been laying still in the fading winds within sight of Spain.  So, we motored for 13 hours and came to Baiona at 0600, Saturday morning.  We did it !

There was a discrete flutter of waves underneath the stern where skipper was sleeping and he knew: The wind had changed.  We wake up with westerly and having berthed in the Easterly direction the wind, and the rain, blew right  into our pilot house.  Everything was wet! We promptly started th heater and dried things up, while the kettle was  boiling and made breakfast “downstairs”.  Outside it was raining cats and dogs.

The mail has not arrived !!...meaning that our spare part has not arrived either. What to do now?  Well, the people at Salve Marine promptly made a new one !.... in copper piping.  This is much better because copper is flexible in contrast to steel, hence copper can take vibrations much better.  So we now have a better replacement for the old one and we wonder what to do with the Original Volvo spare part which is in the mail and which is not so good (?)

We took the bus into Cork, which proved to be about 25 k in the distance and 1 hour away because of intricate detours.  Our iPad had stopped functioning and thereby also our meteorological mastermind “Weather 4 you”.  Much to our surprise, Cork had an Apple Store fully equipped with an IT-nerd and all.  The guy proved competent and 3 hours later we had a fully working navigational piece.

Back to Crosshaven, we fill up our fridge for the big jump tomorrow and we are all set to go.  There is a nice weather window with very little wing first 24 hours and then good winds from the right directions.  We should make it in 3-4 days….

We now have 160 nm down to Cork on the south coast of Ireland and the final spring board for the big jump across the Bay of Biscayne.  In Cork we also have a spare part to pick up at Salve Marina.  A fellow at this Marina called us while in Howth and we made arrangements for how to berth.  We plan to make Cork in one haul and set sails at about 1200.  There is a westerly, about 10 m/s that suits us perfectly; good wind and no waves.  We rush southwards with the tide. .... only to find us becalmed with a tide in or face 6 hours later.  We motored 15 hours during this passage……!  We motor very carefully at 1900 rpms.  Our damaged pressure oil pipe has a vibration crack.  Every engine has a self-vibration resonance state, at which rpm the vibrations are at a minimum.  This is what we seek.  We make 6,5 knots at 1900 rpms so we do make progress - and we cross our fingers.

In the pre-noon hours the day after we reach Cork approaches, pass Roche’s Point where generations of lighthouses (5 of them) look out over the sea. Cork inlet is quite magnificent with resemblance of San Francisco Bay, though much smaller.  After a narrow inlet it widens in many directions, which hold activities of different kinds: Industry, town of Cork and the sailing area of Crosshaven, where we go…and moor at 1400 at Salve Marina -  very appropriately named.  The Marine is replete with wrecks of all sorts, some laying totally beyond salvage in the water.  Oh my, what will be here? Old Charlie up in the highlands preferred this to the Royal Cork Yacht Club, next door, which is definitely too plush for him….and probably for us, too.  We do, however, use shore shower facilities all the time; they do not buck and bang you around so much.  The log now says 1234 nm. since the start in Malmö.

Tomorrow is a lay day.  We will di repairs, go to an Apple store to fix the iPad, etc, etc.  We have earned this dearly, the last week has been a dash to make up for lost time.

Summer remained also during the Tuesday….

We have noted that the consumption of oil, not diesel but lubricating oil, was approaching that of the propelling stuff, and we realized that something was not as it was supposed to be.  After heroic effort by Ingemar we now know that oil pressure pipe art.no. 838869-6 is faulty in its proximal end close to the engine block.  It is either fissured, in which case it can be fixed. If it is corroded we need a spare part.  We can keep on going by filling oil in the other end but we now have about 10 l underneath the engine.  So this will not do for a prolonged period of time.

Meanwhile we have passed though Loch Oish, the highest point of Caledonian Canal, and further on Loch Lochy, with Ben Nevis to the left.  The landscape is spectacular, with green mountains on either side, green with trees on the lower levels and green moors higher up.  Gentle mountains without ragged peaks.

The canal itself resembles Göta Kanal, which is not surprising considering that the Caledonian Canal builder, Thomas Tellford, served as consultant to Baltzar von Platen.

Having spent much time down with the engine, we were “trapped” above the final descent, Neptun’s Staircase, 7 locks in a row, over night.  Tomorrow we plan/need/hope to go to Oban, local centre of the west coast with better facilities for fixing things..

Misty morning!  Calm, not the slightest movement…almost spooky.  We whisper on waking up.  Aquaryd’s latest hero,  Charlie Menzies shows up at 8.30.  He has telephoned various parties and it turns up that we can have a spare part already on Friday.  After this announcement he jumps down in the motor and applies some silicon tape.  This stuff is much tougher than the vulcanizing rubber band we applied yesterday and, lo and behold, no more leakage!! So we make haste to follow an Oyster 46, Callitor, down the canal. The landscape is spectacular: a garden-like little canal surrounded by majestic mountains (Ben Nevis) all “bald” on the top, green moors only and a bit of snow on the northern sides.  The morning mist disappears. After 2 locks we had a 3 hour (!) wait, basking in the sun, to descend Neptun’s Staircase.  Nothing much to do than to cook a great lunch….and precisely after having sat down to enjoy…..locks are ready! There were finally 3 more locks and a couple of swing bridges and then…the sea.  Lots of people looking at Fort Williams and all of a sudden an old steam locomotive pushes by.  My, this is all from days yonder. 

Ship’s council convene:  Ulla and Ingemar need to leave from Edinburgh on Friday and Ander’s H is the same.  After advice from the latest upgrade of the weather forecast the boat needs to get going south.  The coming week shows reasonable strong winds from the wrong direction all the way to Cork but next week promises gentle winds across the Biscaye……So it is decided that we motor down to Oban where the three will leave and then the boat will push on through the night in order to reach the north channel in the morning hours and make good use of a 4 knot tidal current in the right direction.  Since the engine is now, temporarily cured (?) we have sent the spare part to Cork where we plan to arrive on Sunday evening.  Repairs on the Monday and then off for Spain….we hope at this moment.

At 2100 we arrive at Oban.  Tea and sandwiches and a Captain’s farewell to Ulla, Ingemar and Anders H.  We have had a swell time; hardship and then leisure time on the Caledonian Canal….that is Ingemar has been working hard in various ways in order to keep Aquaryd “operational”.  His cravings for fixing things have been richly rewarded.

We leave Oban at 2200. Off into the night in order to be in the North Channel (the waterway between north-eastern Ireland and Scotland) early morning where the tide will work to our advantage. We motor the first 4,5 hours and then the wind from south-east sets in and we set sails. Tidal currents are fine if they work with you (and not so fine the other way) Thing is that when you go any distance you are liable to get it both ways, so things cancel out.

Approaching Ireland we make a strategic decision: Why not rest in a harbour during bad tide and then set out again (?)  So we leave the proper course and go to Ballycastle on the north-east corner of Northern Ireland.  Beautiful little harbour with a café overlooking everything and where we could have a very heavy breakfast, indeed (hamburgers !!)

Locals say we should leave Ballycastle at slack water, which is 1400 hours, while Reeds (nautical almanac) says a couple of hours later.  We compromise and leave at 1500….which was a bit of a mistake.  Once out in Northern Channel we are swept in the wrong direction (bad towards Oban)….but tides do turn and a couple of hours later we we make spectacular tacking angles  southwards.

So we tack back and forth during the night.  When the tide is against us we sneak close to land and pass Belfast that way.  It is sobering to think that out of the estuary that we can make out from all the lights came, once, the Titannic, proud from the yard that built her. With the tide behind us we get out where it really moves. 

We make 4 hour watches, this night it is Jacob and Ludde together and Mats and Leif.  It is astonishing how quickly 4 hours pass.  You steer for an hour, your buddy take over for an hour and then you …and then it is over and you can undo the rain gear and go to bed….and when you wake up again your friends up in the cockpit have made great distance.  Before going to bed, however, you have to pee (and you do not do that standing over the rail in the dark of the night!)  No, you manoeuvre in the bucking enclosure that is the toilet, the hardship of which has been eloquently told previously in this blog.

After Portavogie lighthouse we can lighten the sheet a bit away from the very persistent 10-12 m/s south-easterly and make a dash (8 knots reach) for the remaining 80 nm down to Dublin.  We make for Howth Marina, home port of HYC, Howth Yacht Club.  They do not respond on VHF Ch 80 but the harbour master does, on Ch 16 (!), and tells us to come straight in.  After mooring, HYC officials do come out and ask us, in the pouring rain, to move a bit; there are boats coming in for a race during the week-end.  We subsequently have orgies in the HYC showers (!) but decide to turn down the very plush HYC restaurant, “for members only” (we are now considered short term members after having paid a £51 (!) harbour fee) in favour of a local pub where we magnificently make up for 30 hours of very poor eating – and drinking.

(It turn out that the blog "flips out" if photos are added due to excess of a time limit of tranferal of data. So, no photos for the time being)

They say that summer came to Scotland on a Monday, this Monday.  We have had a gorgeous day. After a dewy morning, things lit up gloriously. We slept long this morning and no alarm clocks were activated.  Some purchases to do in the morning hours made us ask for lock activity after lunch.  “Be here at 13.30 and we will get you through the stair case” was the answer on VHF. 

So, up 4 locks, a smooth operation, indeed and on to Caley Marina, best equipped in the Highlands.  Skipper bought a new pair of “rain pants” (=foul weather gear) replacing the ones he bought at the same place 30 years ago (!)

Going in the canal and seeing the Loch opening up is spectacular.  High mountain sides green with pines and dotted with an occasional castle here and there. 20 nm. Motoring during which we manoeuvred the (empty) aft septic tank.  The pump emptying the tank has not been working.  When activating the pump this afternoon is turned out to work eh….backwards (?!).  Instead of emptying the (empty) tank it filled so the water sprayed out of the airing hole.  Quite mysterious, indeed…. .but fixable.  The unit now seems to be working properly.  During this entire manoeuvre there was no sight of Nessie, who should have liked what was going on (?)

In Fort Augustus at 18:50.  We promptly moored and went in search of a local pub.  “The Lock Inn” proved worthy of our attention; food was excellent for a sailor, not the elegant haute cuisine stuff but down-to-earth home cooking.  Steak pie and a Guinness takes you through the night.

Another rather bumpy night with swells coming in.  We made for a quick start after having seen Hans off in a taxi.  Oh, what a pity for him and for us.

We motored out into the swell and chose a westerly escape behind a big island.  Heavy work for the engine to push us out into the sea.  A southerly 12-14 m/s sent us westwards at a reasonable speed.  During manoeuvring to get in position the reef the mainsail (we need to have the wind in over starboard bow for the furling main to work properly) the engine would not start again (?!) What the……?  Never happened before.  After contemplation and a quick call to our motor saviour Thomas Hellberg in Malmö, we realized that the port tank may be low (run out of gas! Motoring against a heavy sea can draw 3-4 times as much fuels as ordinarily..!!).  After switching to starboard tank + change of diesel filter + some fiddling around, the engine started and we were rather pleased by that.  So westwards again trying to slip to the north in order to meet an expected northerly gale in the best possible angle.  It was a balance between pushed to far south and risk jibing by going to far north; a roll-a-coaster special and not the quickest way of going forward.  …and the infernal rain never ceased falling.  We made about 140 NM. In 24 hours.

Not a bad day at all.  It did not rain all day long but actually we did see some sunshine.  We slipped into the habit of going watch-by-watch quite quickly.  Out of wet clothes and into bed became a routine and every other watch someone makes a meal. Not fancy stuff.  It is pasta doped with peperoni, tortellini, cup of soup and sandwiches.  In the evening, day 2, the gale hit us.  Quickly 15-16 m/sec steady with and gusts up to 18-19 m/sec.  The sea rose rather spectacularly and we were rocked madly.  Two jib sheet broke that night despite greatly diminished sail area, down to a mini main and at least 10 rolls in the he inner jib. Small mishaps: both mainsheet and jib sheet slipped out of control due to the lack of a stop knot.  The jib sheet transformed into a spaghetti mess that took Ulla and skipper 30 mins to undo, kneeling on the side deck in pitch dark constant shower   It is not the wind that gets to you but the waves.  No constant or harmonious motion at all but an inferno of motions in any direction:  You get tossed about like a rag doll.  Going to the loo is a pain staking business.  We came straight on to an oil rig.  We called them up on the VHF: How close can we go?  “Give us a mile” came the answer back from Ballmoral oil rig.   A greeting in the night and we returned on course and hurried forward.

It was soul-searching morning.  Gigantic wave pounded us and caused spray to embed the boat and the helmsman.  Like standing in a constant heavy-duty shower.  Neither the wind nor the rain was cold but the perpetuity of it was impressive.  As long as no vital part breaks, you are OK, but if thing start to break down there is nothing much you can do about it in those conditions.  Cross your fingers that preparations were sufficient, trust providence and push on.  The sooner it is over the better.  After having passed the mouth of Moray Firth the wave action improved, we thought…or were we just habituated?  As expected, the wing turned a bit to the west pushing us towards land and deep into the Firth we had to tack.  After a couple of back-and-forths we had had it: We started up the engine and motored the last 4 hours into Inverness Marina.

A blissful morning.  Calm seas around the boat, no motion at all other than moving forward and we slipped into Inverness Marina’s new facilities.  At last.  Arrival!  Sleep was not an option at this point.  The boat was cleared, meaning that all wet gear was put out in the sun to dry.  We looked like the back yard of a major washing facility.  We bought a “short-stay” ticket at the Marina office – and then we hit the showers.  Orgies in soap and hot water, oh what a treat!  Having thus recovered normality we overlooked the situation:  the Anderses (Lundin and Hedberg) were located at a local hotel where they were forces to share the same bed (king’s size).  They were promptly retrieved to the boat.  Caledonian Canal office was contacted and we planned for passing through the first two locks at 14:30.  Ship’s chandleries were identified but were closed on Sundays.  Replacements will have to await opening hours. 

At 13:30 the Canal official came back on the VHF asking us to hurry – there is a railway bridge and canal operations have to harmonize with the running of trains.  So quick departure  by way of diesel berth (300 liters) and then we motored 20 minutes to the Canal entrance where a formidably friendly canal officer greeted us welcome, had hoisted the Swedish flag and relieved us of some £297 – not unreasonable at all considering free mooring in the marina harbour and very well kept hygiene facilities  throughout the canal.

Day ended on the pub….and a restaurant…and then skipper passed out….

Vi har haft underbara dagar på Nordsjön, mycket äventyr och frisk luft vilket framgår av kaptens uppdateringar. Men livet på en båt har också andra sidor….

 Förutom att segla (vilket är den mest nödvändiga av alla nödvändigheter) finns tre andra nödvändigheter som upptar långseglarens tid och intresse. Den första av dessa är att sova vilket görs så snart tillfälle ges (dvs när man inte gör något av det andra). Den andra är att äta vilket görs så ofta som omständigheterna medger (varma koppen, chokladkaka och turkisk peber täcker seglarens hela kostcirkel). Sist men inte minst behöver seglaren uträtta de behov som påkallas av nöden var man än är, dvs att gå på toa!

 På Nordsjön, i kuling, med jättevågor och spöregn är varje toalettbesök ett äventyr i sig och skepparn har bett mig att så gott det går levandegöra detta för dig, kära läsare.  Alltså, man blir nödig, uträttar behov, tvättar sig – färdigt.

 Aquaryd har inte bara en utan två välutrustade våtrum med toalett samt handfat och dusch med kallt och varmt vatten, snygg trädurk och varma handdukstorkar. Allt funkar hur bra som helst i stiltje och vid kaj. Fast så var det där med kuling och vågor. Då är det direct olämpligt att gå på toa när man blir nödig, den processen bör påbörjas minst en halvtimme INNAN det behövs.

 Medan båten kränger, stampar, lutar och hoppar ska först flytväst och regnstället av i lämplig omfattning. Detta inkluderar att stå på ett ben och andra gymnastiska övningar. Sedan ska man ta sig till platsen för ärendets uträttande, hållande (fastklamrad) i grabbräcken och andra fasta inredningsdetaljer förflyttar man sig ett steg i taget. Toalettrummet är stort och därinne finns inga grabbräcken, tar man i en plötslig överhalning fel och grabbar tag i duschen (händer!) ångrar man genast att regnkläderna tagits av.

 Själva toaletten sitter tvärskepps, dvs man har ryggen mot “ytterväggen” och benen mot båtens mitt, när man väl satt sig under segling sitter man alltså nästan alltid i nedförsbacke eller uppförsbacke.  Har du nu, kära läsare, bilden klar för dig:

Ett relativt stort utrymme med ett halkigt golv som rör sig upp och ner, en toastol i uppförsbacke som rör sig åt alla håll samtidigt och vars lock hela tiden ramlar ner och ingenting att hålla sig fast i. Där ska man försöka sätta sig och sitta kvar så länge det behövs, låter den delen enkel? det är den inte, det är fortfarande utförsbacke och oförutsägbara rörelser och inget att hålla i.

 Toapapper hämtas från sin plats ca 1,5 m bort i en utförsbacke a la levande puckelpist som man sedan ska uppför igen för att kunna spola genom att öppna kran 1 – pumpa in vatten – öppna kran 2 – pumpa ur vatten (annan spak) upprepa tills önskat resultat uppnåtts och sedan absolut inte glömma att stänga alla kranar efter sig. Fint att ha kranarna att hålla sig i medan benen far åt alla håll. Efter dessa bestyr vill man tvätta sig  det sköna saltfria varmvattnet och upptäcker då att anledningen till det såphala golvet är att pumptvålen slagits omkull och läckt ut sitt innehåll. Färden från toastol till handfat över detta hala golv i ständing rörelse är därmed förenat med stora risker när man handlöst kastas fram och tillbaka. Hittills har ett antal blåmärken och en stukad tumme rapporterats.

 Taktiken vid tvättproceduren är att stå väldigt bredbent och klamra sig fast i vattenkranen. Utloppsventilen från handfatet sitter i skåpet under handfatet, bakom några rör, längst ner på botten. Denna ventil är stängd under gang men måste öppnas för att vattnet ska rinna ut någon annan stans än på det redan blöta golvet.. Besöket på toa avslutas alltså med en djupdykning under handfatet innan den försiktiga återfärden till regnställ och flytväst kan återtas.

 Allt eftersom timmarna och dagarna i kuling blev fler och fler blev efterfrågan på dryck mindre och mindre, det gäller att stämma i bäcken…

En kort resumé från en av gastarna över de senaste dagarna.  Nu efter några lata dagar. Skönt och stilla. Fartygsvård, persedelvård och personlig do.

 Efter ett antal gungande och stampande dygn var det skönt att komma in I smul sjö innan Inverness. Fantastisk insegling I gryningens högvatten. Passerade bland annat Fort George som ligger som ett lås för inseglingen. Väl I Inversness hittade vi gästhamn omedelbart efter bron. Dock bara att konstatera att 52 fot skepp inte alltid passar in I alla gästhamnar. Aktern stack långt ut I segelrännan. Nåväl, väl förtöjda vid pass 09 kom vi snart även till duschar och andra faciliteter. Hela duschen stampade och gungade medan varmt och skönt vatten skvalade över kroppen. Gud va skönt.

 Nya besättningsmedlemmar mönstrade ombord. Anders & Anders, numera benämnda Anders och Ludde.

 Efter kontakt med Caledonian Canal var vi välkomna in i första slussen vid pass 13.30. Så loss igen för bunkring diesel och sen mot kanalen. Vi gick igenom den två första slussarna och gled sen mot natthamn i nästa gästhamn. Gångavstånd till Inverness centrum så middag iland på pub. Promenad genom staden som verkade trevlig och gemytlig på alla sätt. På bingen vid pass 10 och sen sömn i närmast medvetslöst tillstånd.

 Ny morgon randade och med den viss kompletterande proviantering m.m. innan vi gav oss iväg för nya slussar. Vi gick igenom kanal och slussar och ända upp till Loch Ness. Den sägenomskrivna och mystiska sjön. Dock ingen skymt av något sjöodjur trots att Ludde försökte locka genom eget nakenbad. I strålande solsken och svaga vindar gled vi för motor över hela sjön och hittade natthamn I Fort August. Viss är Loch Ness imponerande , kargt och lite trollskt. Glest med bebyggelse och höga stupande kuster på båda sidorna.

 Fort August. Ett idylliskt och pittoreskt litet samhälle med manga pubar och restauranger. Så naturligtvis fann även vi en sådan där kvällsmat inmundigades. Fish and Chips, Steak pie och annat gott.

 Nu morgon igen och verkligen utsövda. Alltså är vi beredda på en ny spännande dag. Lite dis och dimma som snart lättade när väl solen fick bränna på nån timme. Så start av motor för att gå in i sluss för en “trappa” om fem. Nej, sa skipper. Låt mig först kontrollera oljenivån innan vi startar. Sagt och gjort, men vad f-n nu då???!!! Inte ett tecken på olja I motorn. Provstickan alldeles torr. Vad göra? Nu börjar Ingemars felsökningsprocedur medan övriga drar skeppet för hand genom slussarna. Efter ålande och krälande I och kring motorn hittade han slutligen problemet. Ett läckage kring en bult/nippel på oljetryckrör på SB sidan av motorn. Där hard et förmodligen läckt länge för vi konstaterar även att kölsvinet är fyllt av olja. Vad göra nu ??? Expeditioner har skickats ut för att hitta nya packningar, inhandla mer motorolja m.m. Provisoriskt lagat så att vi kan gå för motor Dock fortfarande visst läckage så slutlig lösning ännu inte I sikte. Ytterligare rapporter kommer att följa.        

We were forced to a hasty farewell of Henån on Tuesday morning; the wharf needed the dock to lunch a boat and we were in their way, at 08:15. Well, no problem, it was at least an hour’s motoring to reach open sea.  So we made our way in the grey morning.  Forecast said gale force winds from North-East which would suit us well, we thought.  At 9:30 we set sails, a considerably reefed in Genua and a reefed main, as well.  …and the dance began.  With building wave from behind we made our way westwards.  Rain was drizzling down most day and low clouds flew above our heads.  The moisture was augmented by spray from surfs.  We made an average 10 knots all day long and the sailing was magnificent….until mishap struck.  Siling in those condition is a fine balance between going to low in the wind and have the Genua becalmed by the mainsail or go too high into the wind in which case we were too heavily canvassed. It is a 30-degree window that was finely missed……and our genus was twisted around the forestay in a time-glass fashion.  There was a bit of flogging so for 3 hours we were struggling on a bucking foredeck to try to tie it down. We succeeded only partly, the lower sail was fine but the upper part was shaped like a elongated squash that tore back and forth.  At this time we were an hour from making landfall at Kristiansand, it was pitch dark and, loo and behold, as we headed into the wind this squash somehow, miraculously found a lazy spot to stay calm in.  A strong light lead us into the rather magnificent bay where we had no inkling about where to go.  The first little harbour turned out to be parking lot for small pleasure crafts with tiny little pontoons, clearly insufficient.  Second harbour, better by a small margin, was, however, equipped with a little wharf and a few rather large vessels were laying for repair.  We aimed at mooring outside one of them.  Approached slowly until our headman made the jump…and disappeared:  The securely looking rail turned out to be a deep trough.  This would have been all right had he not completely misjudged the jump, landed on flat feet…and promptly fractured one of his heel bones.

So, at 2400 hours we were finally moored with a very sick head sail and a not so able bodied sailor.  A slight dinner went down and stronger stuff to calm down our torn nerves.  We were really quite exhausted.  Today’s ordeal was of a kind not to be repeated.

The elongated squash that behave well during yesterday’s approaches was naughty during the night and the sound kept us awake.  At 6 o’clock the crew was up spontaneously: Something needed to be done.  We slowly motored further into the bay in search of a spot free of wind.  What we finally found was lee behind the rather spectacular looking modern concert hall of Kristiansand at the side of which was a gigantic silo embellished be a canvas picturing a Venice canal with gondolier and all (?)  Here we slowly circled around and around and were able to unwind the headsail, which finally was brought to complete submission by being lowered onto the foredeck.  It turned out that the sail itself was unharmed but the UV-protection was torn to pieces over a segment.  Where does one find a sail repair facility in Kristiansand.?  After a rather uncoordinated search by taxi Michael, running “Sail repair”, turned up on the pier.  4 hours later and 3000 NOK poorer we had a healthy head sail which was promptly hoisted and furled!  In parallel, the broken kicker (after a wild jibe yesterday) was repaired and we now have a perfectly fine boat ready for new adventures.  All this was taking place while suffering only occasionally interrupted rain, a heavy swell rocking us gently against the dock.  Kristiansunds’s harbour is not the best mooring place around.  We could now one happy ship if it were not for Hans’ departure tomorrow morning by SAS, an broken and unusable foot is no good on deck.  We are all really sorry for this, not the least, of course, Hans himself.