Mastless in a warm shed

Two days ago Sirena IV finally had her mast taken off at the Weilandt yard in Burgstaaken in northern Germany, and she was lifted out of the water. 

The night before we had had a terrible evening - Nic managed to turn his foot black and blue slipping on wet wood and we were caught in vicious downpours as we tried without success to moor up close to the crane ready for next morning.  The harbour master harangued us in German saying it was forbidden so we were forced to raft up next to a friendly boat. It blew a hoolie that night. 

So we were on edge the next day and Nic was still sore in the foot when we got ready for the mast lifting. All the awful ends of wires at the bottom of the mast had been labelled (god knows how it will be when we have to reconnect them) and we had tidied all the ropes around the mast and tied them to it. 

Here starts the series of photos - from when Detlef and Alexander started to ease the mast upwards. (It was attached halfway up its length to the crane) Nic was in the cabin ready to stop things if the mast got stuck - Lesley was taking photos outside...and amazed to see how much mast kept appearing through the cabin roof. 

At last it was all out and our poor boat looked very odd without it. Then it was her turn to be lifted out- a much more familiar and easy process.

For much of Thursday and Friday she was out in the yard and in pouring rain as we had various craftsmen on board giving us estimates for work to be done, and as we put her to bed. 

Yesterday we followed as she was taken by a tractor into a 'warm shed' where the minimum temperature will be 5 degrees C through the cold snowy winter. It is very quiet and peaceful and calm in there with only the sound of the rain on the roof. She is inches from the boat behind her and soon will be hemmed in completely until May when we return.

It was with a pang we turned away and shut the shed door. But she is safe and in good hands. We totted up the statistics for this year's journey to the Baltic - 902 nautical miles....that's 1038 land miles.

Who knows how far we will sail next year?  Will it be Sweden, Norway or east to Poland and beyond? We hope you'll join us for next year's adventures in our blog.  

Mast madness

In two days Sirena IV will be lifted out of the water - nothing new there.  What is new for us is that her gold coloured, heavy, 45 feet high mast will be lifted out of her before she comes out of the water. 

Attached to the mast are all kinds of wires for all kinds of stuff, none of them labelled as we discovered today when we looked underneath for the first time.  See pic. Aargh.

We have labelled each of six main cables and their constituent wires and photographed and diagrammed them. 

We don't know which does what. 

It's a bit of a nightmare. Let's hope we can get it all back in place next May when we return and have the mast back up!

Excellent last sail

Up at 6am and away from Bagenkop, Denmark by 0715. This to maximise our sailing time on our last passage of the cruise. 

The forecast was a Force 4 from the NW and it did not disappoint - indeed it delivered at 7am and kept it up all day, with sunshine as well. Full sail up as soon as we cleared the small harbour entrance, a turn to south and off we went for 30 miles of running before the wind. For 4 hours we never dropped below 6kn, and touched 7.4kn surfing a particularly generous wave. Golden stuff. Germany rose up out of the horizon to meet us.

Due the wind direction, both boat and helmspersons were happier sailing slightly off the direct route which took us nearer the German mainland. A patrol boat approached us and addressed over his loud speaker, with us replying by mime; the gist was that we must change course away from that area because they are having firing practice. Humpf. 

On we roared into Fehmarnsund, the stretch of water between the mainland and Fehmarn island. With the wind dead behind we furled the genoa because it just flaps when shadowed by the main. It was too rolly for goose-winging without deploying the spinnaker pole as a whisker pole ... and too rolly to be on the foredeck wrestling with the spinnaker pole. Catch-22. With just the main we kept up 4-5kn,  under the Fehmarn bridge (pics: here it comes; is it high enough; phew we're through).

Then a last few miles tearing along with the wind on the beam before reluctantly hauling down the mainsail for the last time this year, and motoring into Burgstaaken marina where we are near one of the Weilandt sheds (pic) that will be Sirena IV's home until next May.

Tomorrow the prep starts for taking the mast off and lifting her out and deciding what goes into the car to go home. We have a surprisingly long list of tasks.

Painted ship upon a painted ocean

Another short hop today of just 19 miles from Aeroskobing to Bagenkop, a fishing port, in our odyssey through Danish islands.

It was yet another windless day of motoring although we did raise the main sail just in case. And later on Nic decided to try using our horribly heavy spinnaker pole which lives its life vertically attached to the mast. It was a tricky job to get it attached to the foresail (the idea is to stretch the foresail right out to get more wind in it) but he did it!  (See pic) 

However the sail still drooped forlornly, as there simply was no wind. The glassy Baltic was like a vision from the Rime of the Ancient Mariner. 

Earlier in the journey we spent a lot of time carefully negotiating narrow channels marked by buoys. What we had always assumed would be a straight line journey from A to B turned out to go over nasty shallows. We discovered that last night,  when passage planning,  and noted the narrow buoyed channels that took us safely where we needed to be. It meant we sailed into Marstal harbour (where we had gone by bus yesterday) and out again!  (See pic of Marstal with blue tanker on right) 

Bagenkop turned out to be a pleasant enough harbour though with a fishing section which smelled very ripe indeed. We climbed a small tower to take a picture of Sirena IV in her alongside berth. This is effectively the last day of the sailing holiday before we return to Germany and the complex bedding-down process, so we treated ourselves to ice cream to celebrate.

Lazy day on Aero

After a bit of a lie-in we hustled up with shower and breakfast to catch the free hourly island bus at 1030. We headed to Marstal, the largest of the three towns on Aero island. If you hadn't been to Aeroskobing you'd say Marstal was very pretty (pics). 

Whereas Aeroskobing felt like a town going to sleep for the winter, Marstal seems a bit run down with some empty shops. The ship repair docks were also slumbering and they look like the town's main industry, along with fishing, but in fairness it was a Sat. Soby where we were two days ago you would describe as already asleep except that they are building a new jetty for an electric ferry, and it's pile-driving time ... from 0830 to 1830.

The centre of Marstal was humming when we arrived - streets closed, a police car with blues on, what could it mean? A charity fun run by small children (very fast) and some mums (more dignified). The children's reward appeared to be the biggest inflatable bouncing thing ever seen (pic).

Again the Red Cross charity shop was as big as any and right into middle; if not so fussy you could furnish a house very cheaply here. It didn't take long to quarter the town. We purchased a tasty and surprisingly economical lunch from the bakery - two large filled rolls and an almond slice for a fiver - and scoffed it by the quayside waiting for the 1400 bus back. The bus is a pleasant 25 minutes through rolling bucolic countryside - although it's mostly crops here, there are the occasional small groups of cows.

After a refreshing cuppa on the boat we set forth again, this time on the 15 min walk to the beach where we could see some pretty beach huts (pics). This turned to be their equivalent of our beloved Studland beach though in miniature. We paddled, we considered a swim but on balance decided we have nothing to prove and both water and air were pretty cold despite the dunes being warm.

Walking back behind the huts along the grassy edge of a one track road, there was a crash and Lesley went from holding Nic's hand to being on her back on top of a bicycle on top of the cyclist. As we recovered from the shock and checked Lesley over for damage the group of middle-aged Danish cyclists were profusely apologetic. The perpetrator had apparently been blinded by the sun, but given we'd have been visible to them from 100 yards away that cut little ice. We expressed our anger in a very English way and they were very concerned in their polite Danish way. The perp's wife gave us address and phone in case of any follow-up. Lucky it seems Lesley got away with a scratch on her arm and no damage to clothes which is remarkable.

After that excitement it was back to the boat for another reviving cuppa then some planning for the next two days of sailing (probably motoring in no wind) towards our winter quarters.

Airy charm

Aeroskobing was a mere eight mile motor from last night's rather dull harbour at Soby. No wind, and thank heaven no rain,  just dark blue sea and bright blue sky with the usual cotton wool clouds. And when we arrived it was our good fortune to find yet another 'alongside' berth - no need to struggle getting into a box berth and climbing over the bow.

We set out to explore Aeroskobing - a place known for its historic beauty and simple Danish charm. It was a very pleasant and relaxing walk. The pictures show the town pumps, and various striking doors and windows of 17th century cottages in the winding cobbled streets. 

But it was much much quieter than we expected. Aeroskobing is a honeypot for tourists in high summer but this is very much out of season.  Look at the picture of Nic with his strange grey icecream - liquorice flavoured! The woman who served it told us the shop will close next week,  until Easter 2018.

The Danish mania for displaying the national flag continues. We spotted a lovely old dinghy (see pic) with an oar bearing the conspicuous red and white flag.  

We did a small top-up shop for food,  and we are now counting the days to the end of this cruise, so we had to avoid over buying. Tonight Nic is cooking turkey breasts - we don't often have fresh meat so it will be a treat.

Into the South Funen Archipelago

Late last night the little cafe on the quayside was busy because the sailing club was having an evening race (they finished with their nav lights on) and the veteran car club gathered including a Skoda Octavia, an American muscle car, a 2CV, and a gorgeous, open-top, flame-red Jaguar XK140 - Lesley's favourite car.

We woke to the same grey skies and patter of rain. Aargh. The little cafe (it's on the way to the toilets) was busy again with little old fishermen and their retiree mates on mobility scooters.

While Nic did some work on reviewing a document for the NOS, Lesley had another swing through the shops netting some books and ... a small table from a shop that appeared to be selling its fittings. The table cost £3 and is just what we need in our living room!

Around 11 the rain eased so we set off for one our shortest passages ever, a mere 10 miles to Soby at the northern end of the much-lauded island of Aero. We could have sailed slowly across after negotiating the narrow channel out of Faaborg and dodging the ferry ... but the rain came on again and it's cold so we opted for the quicker passage by engine. 2 hours later we were snuggled up alongside a pontoon on Soby harbour (pic). Suddenly the Harbours are all half empty, which suits us.

After lunch on board we walked around the tiny town with its two shops, a restaurant and a pizza house. Much more interesting were the numerous houses that appear to have permanent garage sales (pic) with honesty boxes or numbers for 'mobile pay' - all very cheap and we saw a few things that are quite collectable. We bought one thing, a blue glass vase. A couple of buns from the bakery and back to the boat for tea. Finally the sun is out so everything is hung around the cockpit to dry.