We were supposed to leave yesterday, but did not.
We’d done a systems check a couple of days ago, but somehow the “OK” button on the cockpit chartplotter escaped our attention. The kids were dressed and harnessed, the engine was fired up, goodbye hugs were given, and there sat Paul slumped over the chartplotter. He has a sense of when things are a quick fix, and when they are not. He suspected that this wasn’t to be a quick fix, and it wasn’t.
The cockpit chartplotter is important to us. We have two – one in the main cabin and one in the cockpit. We have come to rely, very much, on the cockpit chartplotter as we dodge in and about the small islands along these Scandinavian coasts. Without it, we are forced to rely upon paper charts, compasses, and recognition of new objects on the fly, or else run back and forth down the ladder to get position fixes.
Paul pulled the chartplotter off, and then pulled it apart. Water had entered, spoiling one of the circuit boards. Phone calls to Raymarine U.S. Phone calls to Raymarine UK. We must ship it to the UK for repairs. Phone calls to DHL Sweden. Phone calls to the Swedish post. That will take a a week from our small island. Calls to Raymarine Denmark. Then Sweden. Then back to the UK. Then back to Denmark. We weren’t able to get resolution. In the end, after a day and half on the phone and Internet, we left with hopes that Raymarine would come through and ship the needed replacement parts ahead of us to Denmark, rather than have us send the entire unit to the UK.
It was emotional saying farewell to Smögen and all that we’ve experienced there. We waved goodbye to Anders on the dock, and it felt like the significant turning of a page in our collective lives, and a lot of sailing pages to turn in front of us.
The longest journey begins with a single step. The Caribbean looks like a world away from here. Heck, the Bay of Biscay isn’t exactly next door. We’ve got a ways to go, and are getting a somewhat late start in the season. But we’ll go at it a day at a time.
Once out sailing today, we got re-acquainted with our navigational skills, which is probably not a bad thing. We stayed offshore to avoid darting about the islands.
When we finally got started, at 3:15 p.m., we had a good day. Twenty miles in light winds and light chop. We got reacquainted with our rusty sailing skills too. Sails up. Reefing lines cleared away. It all worked, albeit a bit more slowly and clunkily than usual.
The kids did OK. Mostly. Alexander and Aylin fell asleep in the first twenty minutes, and slept until the last hour. Alexander is having some six-year molars coming in, and that is making him uncomfortable. And the boat was pitching a good amount at the end. He didn’t like it. Aylin didn’t seem so happy either. But the anchorage saved us just in time, and we pulled in about an hour and a half before sunset. The sun is going down now, and it is nice here.