Engine failure and a Channel crossing

After a night at Brixham in early July, Falanda and I prepared for a Channel crossing alongside my dad on Nora, this was the last weather window before Brest festival began.

There was forecasted to be little to no wind for the first few hours and then picking up gently until sunset, when it would stay at around 18 kts until the following afternoon. We completed all the departure and entry forms and started the engines ready to cast off - there wasn’t a breath of wind and it was a hot, sunny day. 

Unfortunately, Falanda's engine immodestly let out a series of the most unpleasant sounds followed by a loud bang as I tried to turn it off. 

The previous night on arrival at Brixham the stop lever had ripped itself out, an annoyance as it was now harder to stop the engine, however nothing too catastrophic. 

Now, on inspecting the damage, the arm that had connected the stop lever to the engine casing had dropped down and smashed out the governor weights and the engine casing. I’m not the best with engines but even I knew it must be bad if you can see through the front of them. Lying in the bilge was the arm, and a spring from the governor weights that had been shot out the side of the engine. 

Me and dad both agreed that it would definitely not be running for the foreseeable future, especially with my lack of money. Continuing with the crossing would mean an engine-less sail for the next few weeks around the tidal coast of Brittany, and a very good forecast for both Channel crossings - there and back. 

However, after all the work I had just put in to trying to get Falanda ready to go to France, I decided that I would work it out once we got there. Kindly, Nora towed us out of the breakwater and around Berry Head until the wind finally picked up and swung around just before the Skerries. It was then a close point in the general direction of France. 

By this time, Jake had left Mousehole on Radiance, heading for Brest with his mum Charlotte and friend James as crew. Before we lost signal he informed me that they were enjoying a leisurely downwind sail with enough wind and the sun shining. ‘Meet you at the channel du four at 10am’ we joked. 

By evening the wind was on our beam blowing about 20 something kts and there was a big swell smashing into us with every wave. I was soaked and the boat was overpowered but the wind was supposed to be dropping so we continued at 7kts, making up for lost time. We still had to be at the Channel du four by midday latest. 

I had borrowed a tiller pilot before we left however hadn’t had a chance to use it as it couldn’t cope with the swell. 

Just after dark the wind swung behind us, and a following sea began to form. Unfortunately there were still waves coming from the beam so we were left with a very confused sea. The wind increased even more and without any reefs in the main I couldn’t let go of the tiller for even a second without her broaching and being smashed by the ‘sideways’ waves. 

When the engine broke earlier that day it had drawn the batteries down to 11V and so I hadn’t been able to turn on the nav lights, chart plotter or AIS without risking the bilge pump or VHF dying. This mean it was more than difficult for Nora to locate us during the night and we had resorted to flashing a torch on the sails every hour or so. I was following close behind but he had no way of knowing that, and when travelling at 8kts it’s easy to lose someone. 

Reefing would have been hard enough already but at this stage I was cold and slightly delirious and the idea of losing Nora was terrifying. At some point in the night I nodded off for a split second and we broached, sending the anchor flying over the side. Luckily I had lashed the chain on below as well as on deck and it only went out a few feet. Getting it in was a nightmare and we almost lost sight of Nora’s white light. We continued on across the second shipping lane, which was busier than ever and eventually reached the French coast at first light. 

The stretch of coast we were following is affected by the tides sweeping through channel du four and we were welcomed by an easterly tide. With wind against tide the following sea got bigger and sunrise bought only little optimism. I was tired, cold, soaked and really needed to pee. 

From then on is a bit of a blur, I remember the waves seeming terrifying as it got light, but by 10am the tide had changed to go with us and we were entering the Channel du four. Everything calmed down, the wind dropped off almost completely, and, to his word, Jake turned up! How we managed to be within a mile of each other at 10am I don’t know, we had had an extra 70nm on him and neither of us had been actually serious, however it definitely lightened spirits. 

A few hours later, we were moored up in Brest, alongside Nora and just across the harbour from Radiance and Wendy May.

The festival was great and it was interesting hearing about the crossings of lots of other UK boats we knew that had crossed in the same window as us. It was amazing watching the mix of boats out for the parades of sail, especially the display of lights when the sails of the big ships and small daysailers were illuminated neon colours. Falanda looked lovely, as did all the other classic boats around her.