GRAND TOUR
We take you on the last half of a Fleming 53's 9,300-mile journey from California to her homeport in Spain.
Some 20 months ago in this column, we began the tale of Austrian Herb Denk's voyage from Newport Beach. California, to Spain in Nicknack, his Fleming 53 pilothouse motoryacht (see ''Grand Tour,' August 1989). When we left him Herb had reached Caracas Venezuela. In this sequel, we follow him through the Caribbean and out across the Atlantic, to his homeport of Arenys Del Mar in Spain.
The delightful Venezuelan port of Caraballeda, with its white villas and steep green hills became Nicknack's base for a month during Herb's 9,300-mile cruise. The lengthy layover had nothing to do with the fact that the Fleming 53 had taken a real beating heading into 50- (sometimes even 70-) knot trade winds along the Colombian and Venezuelan coasts from Panama. The delay was due to the fact that Herb Denk's crewman, "Harry the Finn," had to jet back to Finland for the Helsinki Boat Show.
Herb, however, used the layover to make many new friends in Caraballeda, including the owner of the largest rum factory in the country. So Nicknack set off, suitably lubricated with rum-based Manoverschluck (loosely translated by Herb as "a little drink for a job well done"), on the 110 miles or so out to the islands known as Los Roques.
According to Herb, the reef islands of Los Roques are the most beautiful in the Caribbean. They protect broad expanses of sheltered, crystal-clear, warm waters and endless deserted white beaches, with sand the consistency of talcum powder and waters live with fresh fish and lobster for the picking.
"At Los Roques, when the barracudas have their breakfast at 8:00 a.m.," Herb recalls, "shoals of tiny fish turn the morning light into flashing silver as they jump out of the water, only to be dived upon by the gulls - the most beautiful alarm clock in the world!"
FINN-AGAIN
On the seventh of March, Harry Biaudet returned from Finland. Harry, like Herb, is a veteran ocean sailor who can turn his mind and hands to any mechanical object. Needless to say, he easily took care of Nicknack's systems and engines. So now, with him back, it was time to move on.
The month's sojourn in Caraballeda was over as the Fleming slipped out of the lee of Los Roques and into the steady 25knot easterly trades on the first leg of the second half of the trip to Spain, some 5,000 miles to the east.
"In this part of the Caribbean in March, heading East," Herb says, "you go into a steady Force 6 wind, which is nice and warm. But it also blows the tops into white horses, making quite a short, steep chop up to five feet. But we were lucky with the high bow on the Fleming, so we never took on green water."
He smiles in recollection here. "You know, it's so beautiful on Nicknack; she's steering herself and making rainbows with the spray, as we sway like horsemen on the flying bridge in a smooth galloping motion. Harry and I, riding together through the deep blues and dazzling whites of this sea, watch flying fish and dolphin all over the place." He laughs. "We have Beethoven turned way up and we make Manoverschlucks with Venezuelan rum and fresh orange juice. I mean, how is it possible to have a better time!"
They called in briefly at Santa Marguerita, to find that the so-called "duty-free" prices were three times more than in Carabafeda. They quickly moved on to Grenada, berthing in the marina at St. Georges. Two days later, on the tenth of April, they left for Petit Saint Vincent, a fabulous gem of an island owned by an American who operates-as Herb says"an unbeatable first-class beach hotel."
But time was getting short and they left the next morning, passing Union Island en route to the famous Tobago Cays. But the cays were a disappointment, with overcrowded anchorages, loud music, and, as Herb puts it, "a barking dog on every French yacht!" So, they decided to leave immediately for Bequia, where they dined at the famous Frangipani restaurant.
The next morning - using eyeball nav Nicknack headed for Rodney Bay Marina. But on arrival, they found the same conditions as at Tobago Cay, and so took off for Martinique-Fort-de-France. They spent a few days tending to Nicknack and stocking up on provisions, and after a little bit of sightseeing, left for the first of the three legs of the Atlantic crossing the 1,125-mile trip to Bermuda.
The weatherfax was encouraging, with no indication of strong winds. Nicknack passed to leeward of Dominica, then between Montserrat and Antigua, leaving Barbuda to starboard.
That first night Herb and Harry settled into their routine of four-hour watches, stopping each engine every 24 hours to check oil and water. Herb says daylight hours were spent "catching fish-especially the big dorado, which taste fantastic, having a drink now and then, and spending time preparing delicious dinners-a big part of the day. The Furuno radar warned us if anyone was near, and we had a long chat on the VHF with a Greek tanker bound for New Orleans."
Day after day passed, with the weatherfax assuring them all was well ahead. Herb comments, "Life is good on the ocean because the noise level on the Fleming 53 is very low [thanks to good insulation] and vibration is almost zero [because of the Aquadrives]. We spend most of the day on the flying bridge; we call it the `balcony'; the huge cockpit, we call the `garden.' We chug along in perfect motoryacht weather, with 1,650 revolutions on the Caterpillars. This gives us 8.3 NM per hour while using only 5.38 gph, thus completing 200 nautical miles every 24 hours, which for most sailing vessels is only a dream. And with our 1,500 gallons at 8.3 knots, we can travel for 280 hours, or 2,320 miles."
Five days later, on the evening of April 30th, the radar picked up Bermuda, and two hours later they contacted Bermuda radio. At 2400 they rounded the first entrance buoy which leads to the entrance to St. George's harbour, and at 1:00 a.m. on the first of May, they were alongside.
Time was now of the essence. Helsinki beckoned ever more strongly to the oceangoing Finn, and after topping off Nicknack's tanks (1,500 gallons), they set the Fleming forth on the longest leg of the trip-Bermuda to the Azores, 1,850 NM to the east.
THE LONGEST LEG
Once again it was perfect motoryacht weather, with a forecast of even better to come. Herb says, "We were very confident, even when the satnav decided to depart us. We had a sextant, so no problem. Have a Manoverschluck!
"The sailing directions for the Atlantic caution all sailing yachts to carry as much fuel as possible-in May there is no wind to the Azores. But that is perfect for a 53-foot pilothouse motoryacht.
"Now we are watching whales from the balcony and trying to figure out how many millions of medusae are swimming in this part of the Atlantic, since ther is one every five meters! Nicknack cruised on into Sargasso Sea, but thanks to our special propknives, we had no problems. We caught more fish from the garden."
But now the 48-hour forecast from the weatherfax was showing increasing winds. "The clouds formed, and everbigger waves began to pound us from about 75°-the worst angle for a motoryacht. We abandoned the balcony! These are the things I remember for the next five days: you must always pay for your good times, and we have received our account balance! We have no satnav and Nicknack is bouncing around day and night, unable to keep even eggs and ham in a frying pan. We are on dead reckoning and thus worried that with the strong winds and rough waves we will miss the
Herb says the famous Tobago Cays had "a barking dog on every French yacht." |
Herb and Harry heard the Azores Coast Guard talking to a crippled sailing yacht with a broken rudder. Next they listened to discussions concerning another sailing yacht with torn sails and no fuel, and later learned of a French catamaran that had been demasted. "It's no wonder," says Herb, "that we took a big Manoverschluck when we discovered Mt. Pico 40 miles off on the radar-right on course!"
Two hours later in the windshadow of Isla Faial, the worst was over. Nine days, 22 hours, 30 minutes, and 1,876 miles after leaving Bermuda, Nicknack moored alongside the quay wall in Marina Horta.
"Once in Horta," Herb said, "it's a must for a sailor to head for Peter's Sports Cafe, where everyone meets. Two hours later, we were drunk!"
There was no electronics specialist available to repair the satnav, and they had no time to wait until a replacement could be flown in. The weather looked good, the fax forecast northerly winds, Force 2 to 3 with a one-meter swell. So after three days, on May 13th, they left Horta with a crate or two of a delicious sparkling wine from Portugal called Vino Verde. They were bound now for Marbella, Spain, via Cabo San Vincente (on the southwest coast of Portugal), and the rock of Gibraltar. "1,150 miles-almost nothing!" says Herb.
The sky was cloudy and they were unable to use the sextant. But 200 miles off Cabo San Vincente, the northerlies piped up as they blew down the coast of Portugal, while seas increased to five feet, assaulting Nicknack at a 90-degree angle. "We had no problems with this, and Nicknack continued along, mile after mile, in the same fashion she has done to date," Herb remarked. Early in the morning they passed Cabo San Vincente, seen on the radar, their first European landfall.
MAY THE FORCE BE WITH YOU
That night was busy as they crossed the shipping lanes from the Med to northern Europe, and from North Africa to South America. Now the temperature dropped and the winds increased to Force 6 on the nose as they closed in on Gibraltar, with a forecast of 7 to 8 in the Straits.
"So we started to make the boat watertight," Herb said. "We knew exactly what waited for us. Any normal human would have gone into Cadiz to wait for better weather. But we could not afford the time, and we had so much confidence in Nicknack, we just went ahead. Both Harry and 1 had gone through the Straits of Gibraltar a couple of times, so we knew about the very high and very short, steep waves you can get with wind over tide.
"We discovered, by previous experience, that you travel close to Cadiz and as near as possible to Tarifa, taking care near the reefs of Trafalgar. You then continue only half a mile from the coast until you see the shipwreck, go direct to Europapoint, and past Gibraltar. Then you are in the Med and it's all over! Just a few hours in a maelstrom," he laughs.
"Sometimes there were only a couple of inches of Nicknack's high bow above the water; and while the entire boat was covered in spray, not one drop of green water came onboard. This was the way she behaved between Colombia and Venezuela in those horrible conditions.
"Once we were past, the Med was like a mirror. We ran the last 25 miles to Jose Banus, docking for fuel after five days and 20 hours, 1,165 miles from the Azores. Three hours later we set off on the 480-mile leg to our final destination, Arenys del Mar near Barcelona, where we arrived on May 22nd.
"Our 9,300-mile voyage from Newport Beach, California in the Fleming 53 was over-no problems! So what was there left to do? Open the champagne for the big Mannverschluck!" Of course!
Reprinted Power & Motoryacht Magazine May 1991