Our featured boat for August is ‘Caryta’ (Careeter), a Tradewind 25′ gaff cutter finished in 2002 by an ex RAF Engineer in his Scarborough garden. Over the past few years her new owner, Tim has been updating some of her systems. He’s fitted AGM to LiPo with new solar panels and chargers etc., removed the propane and gone to an all electric galley. There’s an electric outboard on the tender but he’s retained the good old Yanmar 20 under the cockpit. With a new suit of sails and a hydrovane on the stern, she’s ready for some adventures now that Tim has retired and has more time to go sailing.
I purchased ‘Caryta’ in Cardiff during the 2021 lockdown and after a few trials around Cardiff Bay, sailed her round Lands End calling at Lundy, Padstow, Newlyn, Falmouth and onwards to Burnham-on-Crouch Yacht Harbour, learning the gaff rigged foibles as I went. Since then I’ve sailed locally and done all the usual East Coast creek crawling made easy with 1.25m draft, and one or two longer passages to Harwich and Ostend. I mainly sail solo as my wife doesn’t like boats that rock too much! Now I’ve retired, apart from some consultancy stuff, I decided to set off for a slightly more challenging summer cruise.
In mid-May I set off for Dover having the usual bumpy ride round the cliffs, quick overnighter and then on to Brighton before going into Hasler Marina in Pompey. After a brief stay I headed off to Guernsey to see my sister who lives there and waded through my brother-in-law’s wine cellar for a few days. I timed it. Guernsey was celebrating ‘Liberation day’ with a large military vehicle parade and plenty of beer. Wind was a problem in terms of ‘not enough’ (this was to become a feature) and I had to grab opportunities as they came along. Later in May I spotted a wind window and left in the early evening doing nicely as I headed for Brest. All was going well until one of my furlers jammed, meaning I had to go onto the foredeck armed with a large screwdriver. It was getting dark, the seas had risen and I was somewhat over-canvassed running with the wind. The crash gybe when it came was hefty! As I came out from Guernsey, the wind had shifted. The shackle holding the mainsheet onto the boom exploded leaving it running free. I cautiously crawled to the cockpit from the bowsprit, dodging a boom that was doing its own thing and fortunately I had left a mooring line curled up in the cockpit. Having managed to lasso the boom I could winch it back into some semblance of order. The remains of the old shackle was totally jammed into the mount with age and nothing would shift it. I decided to reduce sail and head for Salcombe, only 60 miles away rather than an unknown French port. After dodging pods of very fast moving cargo ships in the channel and thanking god for AIS I anchored in pitch black in Starehole Bay just outside Salcombe. I slept really well!
After a couple of days in Salcombe and judicious use of an angle grinder I had things back in shape. With everything working again I set off for the Bay of Biscay with a helpful wind and plenty of fresh rations onboard. All was going well and I soon slipped into the rhythm of solo sailing watch-keeping – 15 minutes eyes shut followed by one minute eyes on swivels – rinse and repeat. The dolphins kept me company for hours. I noticed that if I played ‘Tears for Fears’ on the speaker they would really start showing off – don’t ask me why! After three days the wind disappeared and I starting rocking from side to side, a lot! Another couple of days of this and I became bored and took a look at the chart. I had originally had thoughts about heading for the Azores but the high pressure plume seemed to be all consuming and I was conscious that I still had some work to come back to do in mid to late June.
I decided that turning round and heading for Cork seemed like a better idea as the beer is good and the company would be lively. Trying to sail 400 miles with no wind is not easy and became tortuous. Taking another look at the chart I noticed the Scilly Isles were not far away. The decision made I motor sailed to St Mary’s arriving in the early afternoon. I was met by the friendly Harbour Master who guided me onto a buoy about 400 metres from the dinghy jetty. It was time to try out my tiny e-Propulsion Elite electric outboard which was superb, the perfect tool for the job. The next five days I pottered back and forth from the pub to the boat noiselessly and felt fully recharged by the sun. As there was literally no wind and the weather was hot, there were a number of sailing boats becalmed there and I soon made a number of friends as we explored and drank beer until it was time to head off. As soon as the wind forecast livened up we all scuttled about preparing our various craft for the next stage of our different adventures. I was easily the smallest and slowest boat there and the only gaffer. I slipped very early one morning whilst everyone else was still stacking up Z’s. I cut through the back of the island, set up the hydrovane and was soon hissing along at pretty much hull speed. I aimed for Salcombe again as I liked the breakfast in the Victoria Inn. The next 30 hours were pretty much the best sailing I’d ever had with a lovely steady NW wind pushing me along and the wind vane doing all the work. The other boats soon started popping up on the AIS and I watched them as they all overtook me, diving into the various harbours along the south coast or on to Newlyn, Falmouth and Fowey.
I did have some interesting interactions with fishing boats that seemed to delight in turning off their AIS and lights until I was right on them though, extraordinary! I had some mad French fisherman who followed me for hours, 300 metres off my stern, which was a bit bizarre. Next up was Salcombe to Weymouth with the usual excitement of the Portland Race to keep my pulse rate up a bit. The most taxing part of the whole trip was Weymouth to Lymington when St Aldhelm’s Head turned a tad nasty and gave me a proper going over. My timing wasn’t quite perfect and the wind against tide made me regret that. By the time I got to the Needles I was very wet and tired with water everywhere in the boat. It was chaos below with wet bedding etc., no sympathy required though, it was my own fault. The wind accelerated to 35knots out of nowhere as I passed Hurst Castle. I was hanging on to the tiller until my arms felt like they were coming out of their sockets, at 10 knots speed over ground. It was a struggle to slow down, dodging the two ferries that conveniently crossed just in front of me as I entered the shallows at the entrance to Lymington. I somehow got it all squared away and then puttered through the whole marina to Town Quay, tied up, sorted out the boat and went to the pub to meet an old Army mate of mine.
The remainder of the trip back to Burnham was largely uneventful, although entering Dover via the West was rather exciting this time with standing waves and cross currents doing their best to ruin my day. All in all a really enjoyable trip with a few ‘learning’ moments and I certainly now have far more confidence in this tough little blue water cruiser of mine. I think the adage is that it’s rarely the boat that gives in, it’s the little bundle of skin, bone and nerve endings sitting on the back that wobbles first!
Words and photos: Tim Strofton
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