R.I.P. Ms Olydia

In the early morning hours of September 25, 2010, Olydia II ran aground on an uncharted sandbar off the coast of South West France near the Bordeaux wine region.  Despite the best efforts of Captain and crew, Mother Nature’s fury proved a force not to be reckoned with.  Ultimately, strong tidal currents and swelling seas won the battle by cracking Olydia’s hull and flooding her cabin.  Fortunately, all onboard were eventually rescued by helicopter and evacuated to a nearby hospital.

Our unplanned and abrupt exodus from our home away from home required us not only to abandon ship but also leave all of our earthly possessions behind.  Heaps of electronic gadgets and gizmos and personal property were given up as ransom to the sea to insure a safer passage into the hovering helicopter.

There were moments on deck when my knee became entangled in the life lines, and while in the open water as I bobbed in and out of the surf gulping salt water, that I wondered if this was the end.  When the firm grip of the rescue diver’s hand pulled me from submersion, I knew that everything would be OK.  Rendered utterly useless from fear, hypothermia, and exhaustion, I went limp during the accent into the rescue helicopter, unable to assist in my own rescue.

One by one, the crew and then the Captain, were hoisted into the helicopter above from the unforgiving ocean below.  I was filled with a sense of relief and joy as each member of my maritime family was pulled into the helicopter.  As we huddled in the air over our sinking yacht, in silence we held hands, we hugged, we kissed, we cried and we shivered from our cold drenched clothes.

The following day when emotions were more subdued, the crew began to take inventory of the magnitude of all that was lost to the sea.  Despite being in various stages of the grieving process, the Captain and crew were grateful to be together and happy to be alive.  During an impromptu group therapy session that day, I was reminded of a quote of Queen Elizabeth I, “All my possessions for another moment in time.”  It seemed fitting to share this with my despondent Olydia family.  Everyone agreed with the Queen, myself included.

As we each work through the tragic loss of Olydia II and the disruption to our lifes and dreams, I want to personally thank the crew for accepting me, teaching me, and supporting me.  Thank you Cindy (aka Shawna & Cinderella) for stepping up to the plate in our moment of need.  Thank you Gunilla for your friendship and being the peace keeper.  Thank you Ros for being a great roomie.  Thank you Goran for your generosity and parting of knowledge.  Thank you Barbro for your warm smile and calm presence. My heavy heart goes out to each of you.  It is said that what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.  I am confident that calmer seas, smoother sails, and more favorable winds are in our futures.

Sincerely... Susan

Deckhand

Grasshopper

Photographer

Cook

Dishwasher

Night Watch Woman

Laundry Maid

Roommate (Roomie in Aussie Speak)

Camaret France

Camaret, affectionally called the “Riviera of Brittany” by my shipmate Ros, is a sailing mecca on the western coastline of France.  Numerous waterfront cafes line the street facing the packed marinas.  This touristy town is a popular get away destination for the French.

Trying to communicate with restaurant staff who speak only French, and I only English, was a challenge for both.  I find it  helpful to smile big to ease the tension.  When I asked about the WiFi sign on their window, all I got in return were confused looks from restaurant staff.  After playing a game of charades in an attempt to get my point across, there was laughter when they finally understood my inquiry.  With a grin on her face the waitress answered, “Yes, Wee Fee”.  Guess I need a crash course in French if I am going to survive in this land.

Shellfish Merchants of Newlyn, England

A hop, skip, and jump from the notable Lands End in Cornwall, England lies the small commercial fishing town of Newlyn.  On the advice of a local fisherman, I set out on foot with camera in hand to pay a visit to W. Harvey & Sons Shellfish Merchants.

Rob Jackson, a warehouse worker, took the time out of his busy work day to show me around the waterfront building which houses numerous salt water holding tanks for various species of crabs, lobster, and crawfish.  This family owned business has been in operation for over 50 years and ships live shellfish daily via ferries and air to markets all over Europe.  Rob’s friendly demeanor and dedication to his job made my private tour of the crabbing industry something I will not forget.

Kilmore Quay - South Ireland

The small picturesque seaside village of Kilmore Quay located in the southeastern corner of Ireland is a combination of thatched roofed cottages, a rocky beach front, a few scattered pubs, top notch seafood restaurants and commercial fishing businesses.

The Best of Ireland - It’s People

While sailing from Dublin to Waterford, gale force wind gusts of 40 knots, monstrous swells, and freezing salt water showers over the cockpit of our sailboat forced the Olydia II to abort the planned route. We seek shelter from the storm in the unscheduled stop of Arklow, Ireland.

As the boat pulled into the marina in Arklow, we were greeted with open arms and the warm smile of an angel.  Lorcan O’Toole, director of OTS Shipping Services, not only welcomed our weary crew to the marina but offered his personal taxi service to and from the local laundry facility in town.

On the ride back to the boat from town, Lorcan presented me with a rugby shirt bearing the name of his yacht, X-Posure.  Being a photographer, his shirt has special meaning for me.  I will wear the X-Posure shirt proudly and think of him when I do.  Meeting and connecting with the locals is the creme del la creme of the travel experience.  Thank you my Irish friend.  It is now my turn to pay a little kindness forward.  

Susan

Dublin - Guinness, Irish Folk Music and more Guinness

The bustling city of Dublin is home to Ireland’s oldest university, Trinity College founded in 1592, numerous museums touting free admission, and diverse styles of architecture ranging from ultra modern asymmetrical sky scrappers to the stately medieval Christchurch Cathedral.

On our recent “all ladies” exploration of Dublin, we explored the city on foot, by light rail, and double decker tour bus.  What I quickly discovered is that Dubliners like their Guinness and live Irish folk music is easy to find .  There are no end to the choice of pubs, most with standing room only and plenty of Guinness being consumed.

On the tour of the Guinness Brewery, which had humble beginnings 250 years ago, we learned the company now produces 4 million pints of the “black gold” a day, of which 50% is consumed by the thirsty Irish lads and lasses.

Islay - More than a Distillery Stop

The quaint Argyll Island of Islay, located in the mid-western section of Scotland, is best known for it’s world class distilleries.  Laphroaig, Lagavulin, and Ardbeg are the most well known distilleries of this remote island known by most single-malt whiskey drinkers. Most tourists in Islay schedule their day’s activities around distillery tours.  Here they learn first hand how the peat smoked single-malt whiskey is formed from the main ingredients of barley, water and yeast into the Scottish liquid tradition.

.Being more interested in photography and not a whiskey drinker, I decided to forego the almost obligatory distillery visit and instead spend my free time wondering the small town of Port Ellen with camera in hand.  What I found on the streets of Port Ellen were   gentle and friendly people, very strong and sometimes hard to understand Scottish accents, rows of white washed homes all facing the inner harbor and a strong sense of community among the town’s people.

The day after my visit to Islay, I wasn’t surprise to read in the brochure from the Laphroaig Distillery, that the secret ingredient to the success of their whiskey was not the process, or the barley, but the “uncompromising, tough, and determined people” of the Parish.  I hope the faces in my photos do the locals proud.

From Motor way to Waterway - You’ve Come A long Way Nessie

Entering Loch Ness from the Caledonian Canal

Twenty five years ago I traveled by land with my biological family to Loch Ness, Scotland in search of the elusive Nessie, a sea serpent reported to swim in this famed Scottish Lake (aka Loch).  The only sighting of Nessie a quarter of a century ago were cheesy caricatures of the aquatic monster on the signage of the tourist traps that lined Fort Augustus, located in the South Western corner of Loch Ness.  

Today, my impressions of Loch Ness are a 180 degree departure from the memories of yesteryear.  Unlike my previous visit, this trip to Loch Ness was by sea and not by land.  With sun shining brightly, clear crisp cool air, and the companionship of my new maritime family, Nessie was once again not at home to welcome visitors.  Also gone, were the silly billboards of Nessie that used to litter the quaint town of Ft. Augustus.

Our day cruising Loch Ness in the Scottish Highlands could best be described as tranquil and picturesque, a delightful contrast to the North Sea passage we endured last week.  The Loch’s calm waters were a chilly 15 degrees Celsius (59 degrees Fahrenheit) but that didn’t stop my shipmates from taking a teeth chattering dip in Nessie’s pool.  I was happy to stay on board to snap photos since frigid water and I don’t mix well.  All and all, cruising Loch Ness was a wonderful experience. I’m thankful I got the chance to smell the roses and my old memories of a tacky Loch Ness have been replaced with the new and updated version; a snippet of heaven on Earth.

Sept 5 - Present position in Argyll Coast of Scotland

Crew for a night out on town in Ft. Augustus Scotland

Three Monkeys crew waiting for instructions from Captain

Mule Power through the locks of the Caledonian Canal

Sept 1 Sjoklar - Swedish Speak for Ready for Sea

Cinderalla Collapses on the Dock after a long day at Sea

Boats are a lot of work.  Prior to this journey, I never gave much thought about all that is involved in getting a boat from point A to point B.  All of my prior experience at sea has been as a guest on very large cruise ships down to the smallest vessel, a single masted 60 foot chartered yacht in the British Virgin Islands.  My biggest concern back then was did I bring the right number of cocktail dresses for the formal nights on board, deciding which shore excursion to take, and whether to have the beef or fish entree at dinner.  

I’ve been told that our home away from home, the Olydia II, a 46 foot Hallberg-Rassy is the Rolls Royce of sailing yachts.  I’m still looking for the butler, he must have abandoned ship before I boarded.  

The simple task of casting off from the marina takes a village.  Fresh water tanks need to be filled, all projectile objects in the cabin stowed in their appropriate nook or cranny, hatches closed tight, top deck pieces and parts secured, fuel tanks topped off, back up batteries checked and rechecked, custom officers satisfied we are who we say we are, food and drink inventoried and replenished, weather forecasts consulted, and the navigational course plotted.

All this process can be exhausting.  I’m getting hungry.  I wonder what’s for dinner.  Please let it be someone else’s turn to cook.

North Sea Passage - August 28 to 31

Adjusting to a life on the high seas is a challenge for a landlubber like myself.   Crossing the North Sea from Norway to Scotland sounded fairly easy coming from the Captain’s mouth.  The passage to our first destination in the United Kingdom would be a mere 290 nautical miles and should take approximately 48 hours if winds are favorable and all goes as planned.

Tending to the ordinary tasks of personal grooming, dressing, eating, and sleeping while staying optimistic and cheerful a on a rolling sailboat takes perseverance.  With wind gusts to 28 knots, swells of 12 foot waves, and frigid air temperatures, conditions on board warrant a new set of rules.  You quickly learn to set your priorities and make major adjustments to the routines of daily land living.  

Merely moving from bow to stern on the boat takes skill and use of muscles I didn’t realize existed.  Thank goodness for the strategically placed hand rails, the traction on the soles of my Keen water shoes, and the guidance and instruction of my salty dog companions, I have so far, not been badly bruised, or worse yet, broken a bone.  Moving around the cabin is like swinging on monkey bars, you never let go of one rail before grabbing the next.

I showered on board before we left Norway but don’t think I will attempt to shower again until we are safe and sound in the protected still water of our next marina, 2 to 3 days from now. This new level of hygiene (or should I say lack of hygiene) is very foreign to a city gal like myself who delights in floating in her jacuzzi bathtub once, and sometimes twice, a day.  I didn’t brush my teeth this morning either.  It wasn’t worth the risk of injury.  Sorry, Dr. Obeck, I promise to do better tomorrow.  I did, however, floss, since it didn’t require being upright and near a sink.

Clothes.  I wonder how many days I can get away wearing the same layers of clothing before the crew starts avoiding me because of B.O. or the fabrics start ingrowing to become one with my skin. 

Those who know me well will be very surprised to hear I’ve been preparing meals for the crew.  What is this, she’s cooking? I don’t believe it.  Suzie Q must be joking or high on salt water spray, you are probably saying to yourself.  So far I’ve heard no complaints and everyone cleans their plates, a very good sign.  While sailing though, cooking is impractical and potentially dangerous, one threat being projectile kitchen knives coming from the galley.  Breakfast today was a nectarine and a few cheese slices.  Lunch came in the form of delicious Swedish ginger cookies and a handful of cashews.  Hey, what can I say, the snack container was close by and it didn’t carry the risk of loss of life or limb trying to navigate the galley in rough seas.  Dinner will be left over chicken from two nights ago.

Sleeping.  Let’s just say I really, really miss my soft dry foam mattress, half dozen strategically placed pillows and my dog Charlotte’s rhymthymic snoring coming from the pillow next to me.  

All things considered, life aboard the Olydia II is good.  I’m learning to live outside my comfort zone, be a part of a team, pick up first hand knowledge of all things nautical and appreciate the little things back home I took for granted.

AIS Navigation - Our Guardian Angel

Leaving Norway for Scotland - The Calm Before the Storm

More to come....   Suzette