Port Napoleon: stepping the mast

18th- 22nd July 2023

Reaching Port Napoleon felt like achieving a milestone. We were now through the inland waterways and into the Med.  

If you'd never been anywhere else in the Med you probably wouldn't be very impressed. The approaches to the marina are through the Gulf of Fos. Once through the Port St Louis lock you follow a breakwater. On the distant shores of the gulf are so many industrial buildings, cranes, chimneys and so on you could forgive yourself for thinking you were near Felixstowe.

At the end of the breakwater you turn into the buoyed channel, shallows and drying seaweed on either side of you with the odd dilapidated building. The water round here is a murky green, clearer than the Crouch but not inviting.  There was lots of fishing going on, both men AND WOMEN!!  with rods, or else scavenging for shellfish in the shallows.

Once we had moored we went to the capitanerie and inquired about our mast. It was on a stand with a number of other masts, each one a testament to a journey in the planning.  We made a careful check of the mast's condition. Annoyingly our careful packing had chafed through in places but we consoled ourselves with the idea that it could have suffered a lot more damage had we carried it with us.

In the evening we celebrated our arrival in the marina's restaurant, 3 Voiles. I can highly recommend the Napoleon Burger!

Vik was a bit miffed that they only have him a 200ml glass of beer when the people on the next table had pints. Maybe they thought he was younger than his actual age!

The next day (Wednesday) was busy. We had the task of reassembling the mast ready to be stepped on Thursday.  The place where the masts were stored was in full sun.  The weather was boiling hot so we carried the mast to some shade, coincidentally under another Pogo.

First we needed to unpacked all those metres and metres of clingfilm, bubble wrap and sticky tape so carefully applied in Rouen.

Then the spreaders (the bits that stick out from the mast near the top), and standing rigging (steel and Dyneema cords holding the mast in place)  had to be refitted.  We hadn't disconnected the running rigging (the ropes that control the sails) when we dismantled the mast, but had wrapped them around it for extra protection. They had to be sorted tidily and secured around the bottom of the mast so that they didn't fly about when it was lifted into place on the boat.

At this point I decided that I really ought to do the washing. As a feminist I'll point out that I was perfectly capable of helping reassemble the mast but as a pragmatist this was an occasion for sensible division of labour. Who, out of Igor or Vik, would be better employed doing the laundry?

(Maybe this is the place to mention that the aircon in the amenities block where the laundry was was absolutely marvellous, a great place to cool right down).

Igor and Vik worked very hard for hours in the hot sun and by evening the mast was rebuilt. During the heat of the day they sensibly came inside. It was well over 30C and it's just not sensible to be outside in that temperature unless you are very used to it. Even the boatyard workers stopped when it got that hot. Instead they made an early start so I'm not suggesting they didn't work a full day.

We were very grateful that we'd invested in an aircon unit for the boat, it would have been unbearable otherwise. Having the interior cooled also allowed me to do my work, as once I get above a certain temperature my brain seems to stop working properly.

In the evening Vik and I drove into town to top up on diesel and provisions. It takes no time at all in a car, maybe five minutes as against an hour and a half in a boat. The boat has to take the long way around.

Thursday was mast stepping day. We were scheduled for the work to take place at 9.00 am so we were awake before 7.00. We moved the assembled mast from its position under the other Pogo to a spot beside the crane. It was really useful to have three of us to do this. The mast is 15m long and the lower spreaders are each nearly 2m so Igor and Vik pushed the trolleys supporting the mast while I held the spreaders safely off the ground.

We unwrapped the boom while we waited our turn. Like the mast it had layers of packing, plus extra padding at top and bottom where it is especially complex and prone to damage. It was in perfect condition.

Igor moved the boat from the mooring pontoon to a space next to the crane, and bang on time the yard guys did their stuff.

Igor helped with things like feeding the wires from the bottom of the mast through to where they connect inside the cabin, while Vik held onto the forestay (the wire from the top of the mast to the very front of the boat where the jib ie front sail, attaches) until it was fitted into place, you wouldn't want it flying around as it could be damaged (or damage someone).

Once the mast was fitted the yard guy went up in a cherry picker to fix the instruments to the top of the mast. It was a long way up and quite windy but that didn't seem to bother him at all.

Igor had previously spent quite a while painstakingly arranging the windvane at the top of the mast, ensuring it was aligned and symmetrical. When we were ready to lift the yard guy said he'd have to take it off as it would get damaged during the lifting.  When he refitted it at the mast top it wasn't quite in line. Aggravating, but it's just a visual guide to where the wind is rather than something attached to the electronics so we'll probably be able to live with it.

The whole process was very efficient. The yard is constantly at work, masting, demasting, launching and retrieving boats so within an hour we were being ushered off to make way for the next boat.

Once back on the pontoon we needed to attach the boom to the gooseneck fitting on the mast. The boom is the bit that sits at the bottom of the sail, holding it in shape when it's being used. It also holds a bag for the sail to be stored in when not needed.

Connecting the boom is a bit fiddly.  You have to manoeuvre it so that the end, a bracket with holes top and bottom, is in line with the fitting on the mast, which has a similar fitting with holes that line up with it. You then drop a long bolt through the holes to keep everything in place, adding a series of nylon washers as you go to keep the metal surfaces separated and prevent wear.

At the moment that we were trying to put the bolt through a lady from another British boat, Lucy, came over and introduced herself. I'd been chatting to her over Facebook, (the Women on Barges group, as while Libra was lacking a mast she qualified as a temporary barge!) and it was really nice to finally meet her. I would have talked all day but I could sense that Igor and Vik wanted to get on with the task in hand. We said we'd go over to her boat a bit later once all the work was done.

Vik had planned to leave with the car as soon as we'd got everything done that needed his muscle so we had an early lunch and he set off. He reached Troyes by 7pm and Calais by lunchtime next day, good going.

We carried on working after he left, Igor doing a lot more than me, as I had to do some of my own work. Once we were done we went over and introduced ourselves properly to Lucy and her husband Jeremy, who had also come through the canals but via a different route, and arranged to meet them for a drink tomorrow.

Friday was another busy day. Igor needed to tune the rigging so my job was winching him up the mast. He sat in the bosuns chair, a canvas seat that attaches to the strong ropes that hold the sails in place, and I winched him up.

We have two-speed winches. Turn them anti clockwise and they turn slowly but powerfully, pulling the rope more quickly up the mast.  It needs a lot of strength. If you turn the handle clockwise you do more turns of the handle but the rope feeds through slower and it's a lot easier.  I can't actually turn the winch at all in the faster gear if Igor is on the other end of the line.  

It was a hot and sweaty job and I had to do it 3 or 4 times over the course of the day in the sweltering heat.  It got to nearly 7pm and it still wasn't quite done, so I left Igor working up the mast (with his permission I hasten to add) and went over to Lucy and Jeremy to apologise that we would be a bit late. I couldn't stay very long, I could see Igor finishing off the work as we chatted.

We didn't get to the bar for 7pm, but we got to the showers shortly afterwards, and met with Lucy and Jeremy and another couple, Terry and Theresa, around 7.45. They wouldn't have wanted to sit near us until we'd washed!

It was lovely to be there with a cold drink and to chat and swap stories. Terry and Theresa had been traveling for a couple of years, having sailed via Biscay before the orcas became an issue, and were having their boat transported back to the UK by lorry. That's one way to avoid those pesky killer whales.

We still weren't done with all the boat prep when we woke on Saturday morning. After breakfast I went to the onsite chandlery to buy a Camping Gaz refill. It was an Aladdin's cave, so much stuff in there. Many of the chandleries in Essex have closed down or just don't have the choice they used to have, probably due to the fact that everyone buys most of their stuff online nowadays. It was good to see a place with such a selection, even it all I bought was the gas.

On the way back, full cylinder in my backpack, I decided to detour  and have a look at the boat Snowgoose. This was bought by a couple of Youtubers, [Stu and Marina](We Bought an Abandoned Sailboat for ONE EURO (€1!!) | SAILING SEABIRD Ep. 1 - YouTube) for a euro, and they are now in the process of refurbishing it. We have watched a lot of their videos as they too came down the canals and I wanted to say hi and thank them for all the useful information we'd gained from them.

Igor and I had noticed the boat the first time we went for a wander round the yard but hadn't seen any sign of them. This time I was in luck.  They were under the boat wearing masks and sanding the antifouling off, back to the gel coat. I really didn't envy them that task. Antifoul is horrible stuff and it was stinking hot. I introduced myself and they stopped work and we chatted for a while. I sent regards from Ben, who we met in Valence on their old boat Wayzgoose. They were just as engaging and nice as they seem to be on their videos. I think Igor was a little bit jealous when I told him I'd met them.

After lunch I finally got round to cleaning the deck. It hadn't been done for ages and ages and I hadn't realised how much grime we'd picked up along the way. We've passed a lot of industry and the muck has been trodden into the deck. It was very satisfying to see the boat gleaming again once I'd finished.

Our original plan once evening came was to have showers then walk into town for dinner. Then Igor came up with a much better idea: instead of the walk into town, about 3 or 4 km in the heat which would probably take us an hour or so each way, why not sail for a couple of hours to a town called Carro? With a name like that, how could I resist?

We set off around 18.40, went back along the buoyed channel under engine then once we were through that raised the sails, turned the engine off and had a fantastic sail at 7-8 kts all the way. It was a bit bumpy but miracle of miracles I didn't get seasick. Maybe this was because I was steering while Igor was checking that everything was working as it should be? After all, the boat hasn't sailed since April and it's important to do a shakedown to identify anything that needs attention before setting off on an epic journey.

We reached Carro just before 9, mooring to a lifeboat as there was no room in the marina. There was a fairground on the land and we could hear the screams of the kids on the rides. Then a covers band started to play music. It was very lively, a much better atmosphere than the working sense of Port Napoleon.

Finally, Libra is a sailing boat again and just as fantastic as she always was. Next post will be less hard work and more travel!

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