1 ROUND the NORTH ATLANTIC in THEODORA, 1958-1959. the Diary of Colin Smith, Mate and Surgeon
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ROUND THE NORTH ATLANTIC IN THEODORA, 1958-1959. The Diary of Colin Smith, Mate and surgeon, - with additions and comments. "Theodora", originally "Kindly Light", is a 34 ton, 52 foot Bristol Channel Pilot Cutter drawing 7'6" which was built in 1911 to carry the pilot from Barry Island in South Wales to the ships, steam or sail, which needed to be guided in at that time, however appalling the weather. In those days she was simply rigged with a pole mast, gaff mainsail, staysail, jib and topsail, and so strong and weather proof, with a self draining cockpit and two small hatches only, that she could be swept by heavy seas without harm. Underwater her lines were those of a racing yacht but still she could be handled at a pinch by one man and a boy. She was rescued from dereliction by Christopher Ellis, a schoolmaster from Radley College and served as the school training ship for some years. At the time of our trip the previous owners, the Royal Engineers, had fitted her with a reefing topmast and a squaresail yard, this meant that she could carry a jackyard topsail which extended above the topmast truck, which was itself 70 feet above the water, and a flying jib from there to the end of the 18 foot bowsprit. She normally carried her gaff mainsail, with staysail and jib, and working or jackyard topsail, but with the wind behind she could also carry a 1000 square foot square sail and a 650 square foot raffee topsail, and a 200 square foot studdingsail (stuns'l) at each end of the squaresail yard, which made her extremely fast, though difficult to steer when the wind rose. There were no winches for the running rigging so plenty of strong arms were needed to work her. Her speed and seaworthiness were ideal for this kind of voyage, though the extra rigging meant that there were constant problems with chafing as everything rubbed against everything else. One of my jobs was to keep an eye on this, and move, tallow, parcel and occasionally replace ropes when they were in danger of wearing themselves away. We only had 10 hours of fuel for the Kelvin auxiliary motor, so we could only use it for short spells. Navigation was done by compass, sextant and Walker's Patent Log trailed astern, and a lead line for sounding. The only electronic aid was a Beme-Loop radio which could tell the direction of a radio signal. Chris had had a great deal of sailing experience, mostly in old boats, and had sailed across the Atlantic with the Pyes in "Moonraker". He was anxious to sail round the North Atlantic in Theodora if he could possibly muster a crew. I was able to take a year off despite being liable for National Service as having qualified as a doctor at Guy's Hospital at the end of 1957 I was between my two statutory six month pre-registration housejobs. Chris had put an advert in the Times for a crew but took none of the 200 who responded. In the end he chose three boys who had just left school: Daniel Brocklebank, Sean Gardner and Simon Odling; Linda Binnington to make us all 1 behave and me as Medical Officer and Mate. Looking back I seem to have been a very naive young man in many ways, but at least I was strong and willing. Final preparations were made in Camper and Nicholson's yard at Southampton. Most of the inserts in italics below are taken from reports sent to the Guy's Hospital Gazette at the time. Sometimes these overlap with the diary, but at other times they replace it. Comments looking back from 40 years later are in brackets. The official report of the journey appeared in the Journal of the Royal Cruising Club in 1960. Re-reading it I realise that it is mostly about me, my feelings and impressions, as you might expect from a diary. However Chris was very much in charge throughout the entire trip, and did all the serious worrying. When we did things it was because he had told us to. *** *** *** The year is 1958........ Friday 10 October. At last we managed to get away. We hoped to set off yesterday but by 7pm -our ETD- the decks were still knee deep in stores. A large crowd came down with Chris' patent dinghy - John Birkhead, Jeremy Harrold and Peter Stewart & Jim Rickards, not to mention Chris' father & sister Mary. Getting everything organised for the trip has been a great headache and I don't know how Chris has managed. Linda has been very good for all our morales whilst being a very valuable crew member. (Chris had put the dinghy together in a few days. It had a pram bow, and came apart longitudinally so that it could stow on deck, either side of the saloon skylight.) We decided that we couldn't possibly go last night & Chris' father took us all out to a meal at Tony's. After that we pottered on till about 2 am clearing up the stores and stowing things. Chris wanted to get everything done so that we could sail in the morning. I eventually struck and tottered off to bed, soon followed by the others. It was a miserable drizzly morning when we eventually set off from Camper's at about 10.30 am, with Mr White, the Yard manager, the foreman rigger & one or two others as our departure committee. We beat our way down Southampton Water & then along the Solent, eventually dropping anchor just off the yacht club just east of Yarmouth. 5.30 pm. The shore here looks more foreign than the Congo; the stunted trees are drenched with sun, the sky turquoise and mackerel. It is very calm & we are lying to the kedge for a few hours until the tide changes & we can slip through the Needles. Most people are in bed and the tide guggles by. We sailed with the No. 2 jib & no tops'l; could really have done with a little more, though it was very unpredictable and we had the gun'l under occasionally. (Heeled over till the seas ran along the deck). Supper soon & then on. We've done 10 of the 10,000 miles. 2 10th October. Our eventual departure date was fixed as the 9th of October but late in the evening the decks were still piled high with stores and gear of all kinds, in spite of the enormous quantity that had already disappeared. We had a meal at a cafe round the corner, and then carried on, because Chris thought we should have everything ready to sail first thing in the morning. At 2 a.m. we were still not ready, so we decided to go to bed. The next morning was cold and drizzling, but at about 10.30 a.m. the yard manager and four or five equally rain soaked employees came to see us off. We cast off our tow after half a mile, and hoisted the mainsail - only to have to lower it again and re-reeve the halyard, as it had been set up crossed in the blocks. Perhaps it was just as well that there was nobody to see us slink out of Southampton Water. The tide was foul by the time we reached the Needles, so we dropped the kedge for a few hours just Northeast of Yarmouth, amidst a glorious sunset glowing upon an extraordinarily foreign stretch of coast. Abroad at last, with only another 10,000 miles before we should see the Isle of Wight again. Saturday 11th October. 5.45 pm. Shaking down - or shaking up - has been the operative word for today, not that it has been very rough, but everyone except Chris and Sean have been rather sick. Linda and I are sick but don't mind much & Simon and Daniel have been really under the weather. We are bouncing about off the Casquets after a day of inconstant and variable southwesterlies. There is a moderately rough sea running, presumably the aftermath of all the gales. My midship bunk is very comfortable & I have spent large tracts of today in it after a very tedious watch from 12 to 6am last night. Chris & I are doing 6 hour watches & the others 3 until we are clear of the Channel. We don't expect to be awake all the time but one of us is to be in charge. 11th October. The next couple of days were something of a baptism and constituted the most unpleasant weather we have had so far. We beat out to the Casquets under main, staysail and No.2 jib (a small one with a chain luff) with the wind Force 4 and a moderate sea. We went about and headed for Start Point, and during the following night the wind increased until it was probably gusting up to Force 7. Linda descended the main hatch beside my midship bunk in a shower of spray and announced that we would have to take in some reefs. The boat had been heeling over further and further and the water was guggling along the deck overhead, so the news did not come as a surprise. Unfamiliarity with the ropes and general confusion of wind and water made this a rather lengthly, though not hazardous, business as she lies very quietly when hove to. The scene was illuminated by the navigation lights, and red and green water seemed to be descending from straight overhead in large pieces.