Vayu, Why Us!?
 |
| Cyclone station |
After a quick meal and shower at home, we were right back on Antara, to spend the night on board. The high tide, incoming
waves and winds gusting to 26 knots even in the shelter of the harbour, made
for a rocky night. Thankfully, the sun calmer waters the next morning. We took our
unpacked bag of clothes and headed home. The weather conditions had us rattled
though, so we came back to have a look at Antara. What a good decision that
was!
Even as we watched, two more of the
cleats on the pontoon broke. The boat was literally hanging by a thread with
one rope tied to one remaining cleat. In silent, mutual understanding, we
unlocked the steering wheel, started the engine, weighed anchor and cast off. Motoring
upriver towards the Mandovi bridge we anchored close to the casino boats. We
were wet through and our change of clothes was safely packed away, at home!. My
guardian angel had led me to store some daal, rice, pickles and oats though, so
dinner at 0800 h was khichdi with pickles.
Next morning, after a breakfast of
oats and coffee, we weighed anchor and motored back to our jetty around 1000 h.
But Vayu was raging in full strength there forcing us to turn around and go
right back to our earlier anchorage. After a hot khichdi lunch, the still
waters lulled us to sleep, when a gust of wind and a sudden downpour had us
both awake and on deck. Antara was drifting, towards the Mandovi bridge, at a
steady clip of 2 knots. I was at the bow, helping Dilip to pace the anchor haul
when we realised that in our panic over the anchor, we had reached within 25
feet of the bridge. The bridge is shorter than our 17.5-metre mast! Dilip
quickly revved the engine and we moved away in the nick of time.
The sandy river bottom makes it difficult
for a single anchor to get a grip. We realised later that most boats on the
Mandovi use a swivel mooring with up to three anchors below.
At 0545, just after Dilip had got
into bed after a long anchor watch, Antara began to drift again. I shouted out
to Dilip, even as I started up the engine. He was up in an instant; the engine, however, packed up. As we were still drifting, we raised anchor and opened up
the genoa. Antara responded immediately and moved forward. Dilip steered her
downriver away from the casino boats and the Betim-Panaji ferry. The wind was
patchy and the genoa kept luffing, sending Antara careening between the mudflats and the casino boats.
A call to Ratnakar and we had a plan
in place. His man Friday, Sachin would get a spare battery to the jetty,
inflate the dinghy, put in the outboard motor and come over to Antara. But as the
morning progressed, river traffic increased, with the tourist boats merrily
motoring into bad weather only to turn around in haste. We decided not to wait
for Sachin to come to us and to approach the pontoon under sail. We furled in
the genoa, came alongside at around 1100 and secured Antara to the same
pontoon. As most of the cleats were gone we tied ropes around the pontoon and
then tied Antara's berthing lines to those ropes.
Sachin checked on the engine and figured
that since the battery powering the engine was not isolated from the one
powering the anchor and other gizmos, both batteries had drained together. He
put in a replacement battery and voila, we were back in business.
Completely knackered but happy to be back, with not a scratch on
Antara.
With Antara, you now have the opportunity to sail, safe in Covid times - on a large sailboat, along the coast, in the deep blue yonder! You decide and we'll design a sail just for you.
Comments
Post a Comment