Enfin, démâtage!

My last post may have given the impression that our plans were suffering from a holdup.  To cut a long story short, everything has worked out very well indeed. If we'd followed our original plan of travelling Thursday and demasting Friday we simply wouldn't have had time to prepare.

We got to Dover on Saturday in good time for the 11.05 Irish Ferries sailing for Calais. It was an excellent crossing, about an hour and a half. The ship was clean, comfortable and modern so highly recommended if you haven't already sailed with them.

From Calais the drive to Rouen should have been about 2 1/2 hours but the satnav diverted us from the toll road and we ended up at a road in the middle of nowhere that was blocked for roadworks (similar to Tinkers Hole, if you know Burnham-on-Crouch you'll know what I mean).

Never mind, after two hours of driving we stopped for a break at a LeClerc supermarket. Total sensory overload! Compared to our scruffy British excuses for supermarkets this is a different world. Aisle after aisle of delicious produce, so much choice and all beautifully presented. I felt like a visitor from a third world country who's just been shown Wonderland.

The démâtage was scheduled for Monday, so as soon as we had got to our boat and eaten dinner we started work on the preparations. First, take down the jib. The weather forecast was for moderate breezes but the wind had dropped so we seized the moment, for reasons that will be obvious to anyone who has ever tried to drop a sail with the wind blowing from the wrong direction. For the uninitiated, the sail will do what a sail is supposed to do i.e. fill with wind and start trying to move the boat.  Not much fun if there are only two of you trying to manhandle it down to the deck and fold it up.

This is a job we've done many times and the lack of wind meant it was quick and painless. We removed the battens by the light of my mobile, then roughly folded it, rolled it up and left it on deck.

Sunday was a very busy day. We refolded the jib and bagged it, then went through the same manoeuvre with the mainsail. Next, we removed the sailbag from the boom.  I took the opportunity to clean off the mould and algae which has grown over the winter. All the sails went into the car, to be transported back to the UK for storage.

We had to disconnect the boom, and had the bright idea of wrapping all the reefing lines around it to give extra protection when it's transported. All this was before lunchtime, a simple snack of bread, cheese and tomatoes. No time for anything fancy.

While Igor disconnected the electrics from the base of the mast I took the opportunity to install blinds on the windows. I may do a separate post about this at a later date, it's a job I've been procrastinating about for too long.

By now it was nearly dinner time. The choice: a 40 minute walk to a restaurant in town or tinned curry and ready made rice. Guess which option we chose? If your guess didn't involve moving far you're correct. By now Igor was working on the engine.

Just before we left to go back to the UK we'd noticed that there was a lot of brackish water in certain areas of the floor. We traced the problem to the seal on the impeller shaft. Igor ordered one from eBay but it didn't arrive, so we drove all the way to Tollesbury to get one from a proper Volvo dealer last Wednesday.

The impeller assembly wasn't cooperating and he had a struggle removing the old seal. The way the engine is designed means that nothing critical is accessible in a sensible way. This is one of the very few criticisms I have of our boat.  In the end I persuaded him that he should eat and relax for a few minutes as that would gird his loins to finally solve the problem.   One tin of Chicken Balti later he went back to it and this time the seal came out.

We went to bed, exhausted, around 11. On Monday we were up bright and early as there was still a lot to do. We walked to Lamanage, the boatyard, to speak to Antoine who was now back from his holidays but he was busy launching a catamaran. We tried again a little later and Antoine told us where to moor and that the mast would be coming down at 2pm.

Whenever we've unstepped the mast before there have been at least three members of the boatyard's staff to carry out this operation. We weren't allowed to go anywhere near because of health and safety. One of the guys operates the crane, the others manoeuvre the mast and make sure that nothing happens to all the fragile stuff on it (in theory). Today it was just Antoine, Igor and me. We were concerned that the height of the crane wouldn't be tall enough and that there just wouldn't be enough muscle available to make sure that the mast came off without incident. Antoine was very confident that everything would be OK. We really had no choice but to hope for the best.

At 2pm the boat was by the crane. It was near high water, which stands for a few hours in Rouen. Antoine appeared, giving clear instructions where necessary. He knew exactly what he was doing. Obviously, Igor is a far more capable and motivated 'helper' than a bunch of apprentices at a boatyard. I helped where I could but really had very little to do. With no drama and no problems the mast was lifted off and placed in its cradle. It took about 50 minutes. The last time it was removed the 'skilled' people bent the furling line and damaged the windex and other mast top equipment. Antoine and Igor did the whole thing as per textbook. Food for thought.

The rest of Monday afternoon was taken up dismantling the mast head equipment, spreaders and rigging from the mast. We rewarded ourselves with a tin of chicken tikka masala and a lot of cheese.

On Tuesday we wrapped the entire mast, furler and boom in clingfilm and 100m of bubble wrap.  This is much harder work than it sounds.  As a change from tinned curry we had tinned ravioli.

Igor and I have been planning this for such a long time, I realise that I actually am living the dream. I just didn't anticipate details like the amount of tinned food it would involve (not complaining!)