If the automobile had followed the same development cycle as the computer,
a Rolls-Royce would today cost $100,
get one million miles to the gallon,
and explode once a year,
killing everyone inside.
-Robert X. Cringely-


St.Helena


About a month ago I got an email from someone who said:

".. it is a pity your site is losing momentum, you were interesting..."

He hit the nail in the head. I have been losing momentum. The feeling of "whatever" is permeating through everything. Whatever. Who cares? Doesn't matter.

I'm growing increasingly unhappy with my relationship with Paula. I am perplexed in the face of my inability to maintain a long term relationship.

I am hoping that crossing Atlantic will make another change. (I love change!) I'm dreaming about single-handing. Being by myself. Atleast until I can really fall in love with someone. But whatever will be, will be.

I have been looking forward to Atlantic. Not only because it's the second ocean, but because I really wanted to get the hell out of the cold and shit-weather South African coast. Even to get the hell out of South Africa. But then again, so do many others, including many South Africans.

So lets head out to sea, shall we?

It is Sunday morning, 29 January 2006. It's dead calm as we drive off the Royal Cape Yacht Club. Blue sky and nice crispy cool air. I have quit smoking a month ago in Mossel Bay but faced with 5500 miles to Trinidad, I have bought 20 small cafe creme cigars for the trip. I smoke one as we motor out - not a good sign. Aliisa is fitted with a brand new device - an old wind vane botched up together and bolted on the transom, swinging a home made timber pendulum rudder and and waving a thin plywood vane under the davits.

I turn off the engine and go to check to engine room and to lock the prop shaft. (I never let the shaft free spin, nor do I like to leave it in gear. There is a 10mm hole in the shaft flange that takes a piece of wooden dowling to lock the prop. The wooden stick will break off should I ever start driving and forget to remove it.) There is a strange metallic klonk-klonk-klonk coming out of the gearbox. Or is it coming from the shaft? Something is wrong but I'm not sure where. I lock the prop and scratch my head. Saint Helena is 1750 miles away.

I'm not too keen on describing passages but I'll tell you briefly the highlights anyway... Good speed, nice wind and sunny skies for a few days. After half a day of studying the technicalities of a wind vane, I got it to work, just. Skies turn grey and dull but no rain. I know I have a problem somewhere between the engine and the propeller, but I don't know if it's serious or not. The vane stops working. Bastard! I hang myself half over the transom for three hours unscrewing and screwing and ... screwing around. I get it to work again. I notice that my temper is getting bad. I swear even more than before and when things don't work, I'm always close at just smashing them on the floor.

Four days later a small stainless steel pin snaps off and puts the wind vane out of action. 700 miles to go. The Autohelm belt-driven pilot works for a day and then dies too. Honestly, if the owner of Raymarine had been onboard, I would have gladly pushed the plastic autopilot up his hass. We're hand steering. There's nothing wrong with hand steering for a few days but try two weeks, day and night. The sun appears and wind settles to a light 10kn or less. I dive down to see if something is stuck in the prop, causing the sound whenever the shaft is turning. Nothing there. At the end we do mere 60 mile days in light air but finally the island of Saint Helena appears infront of us.
By the way: If you are serious about going cruising, DO NOT buy a Raymarine Autohelm 3000 wheel pilot. It is a piece of shit. It will work in ideal conditions until the warranty runs out. Get yourself the next one up, one that is made for boats bigger than yours. Also, DO NOT buy a Smev stove. It is a piece of shit that belongs either to a caravan or up the Smev company owner's ass, not into a yacht.

I sail within a mile from the anchorage and then motor slowly in. The anchorage is supposed to be very uncomfortable but the only fault I can find is that it is very deep. I find 17 meters and to save myself from having a heart-attack on pulling the anchor up, I drop my back-up anchor with only 10m of chain and the rest in 14mm silver rope. We are 16 days from Cape Town. We are in the Land of Saints.

VOYAGE MAP Saint Helena BACK TO ATLANTIC