[oman-l] Sailing in Oman

[Billyboy]

I thought (and hope) that one or two people on the list
might like to read the following:


About 12 years ago, out here in  Oman, a friend (Pat) built
a boat outside my tent.  It is a steel replica of 'Spray',
the first boat to sail single handed round the world, and
which returned to her home port 100 years ago this year (or
maybe next!).  Pat and I cracked several cans of Fosters
during the building of the boat, and learned a great deal
from Morelly, the man he employed to do all the (teak)
woodwork/carpentry/cabinet making inside the boat.

Pat sold the boat to another friend of mine called Paul (and
built another steel sailing yacht, which he then proceeded
to sail single handed around the world, starting and
finishing at Muttrah).

I've sailed with Paul on his boat several times.  This
voyage happenned a couple of weeks ago.

We arrived at the Marina Bander Rhowda at 3 pm - and it was
hot.  I mean HOT - try 48 degrees centigrade!!!  Paul had
decided that this year, the good ship 'Rahmani' would be
ashore during the heat of the summer, and our job was to
sail he to her summer quarters.

It took half an hour, and a pint of water each, to transfer
stores for the voyage from car to boat, to prepare the boat
for the voyage, to start the engine, and to cast off.  And
another 10 minutes to motor to a spot where we could safely
cut the engine, whilst Paul went over the side to
de-barnacle the prop.  Following this, the engine pushed us
along at an extra half a knot.

It then took me 5 minutes and a half pint of water to
prepare and set the mainsail, and for an hour we
motor-sailed out to sea to make an offing.  Having had a
hectic couple of days, I went below for a 30 minute snooze,
and lasted about 5 minutes.  T-shirt and shorts were
drenched in sweat, and eyes stinging from the sweat dripping
into them.  I had a better rest on deck, in the shadow cast
by the mainsail.

A couple of miles offshore, and we found a reasonable breeze
- blowing in about the right direction.  Paul decided to set
the drifter - I sail I hadn't worked with before.  It's a
large, light sail, a bit like a spinnaker, but without a
boom.  It took us about 30 minutes and a couple of quarts of
water to get it up from the heat below, and onto the deck,
and rigged.  At that point we could cut the engine (which
had been pushing us along at 4 and a half knots) and sail
along at between 5 and 6.  We kept this up until 2 am - a
wonderful 8 or 9 hours of sailing.

As the sun went down, we were treated to a small crescent
moon for a couple of hours.  And after moon-set we were
treated to a spectacular, crystal clear sky, and a 'Starry
Starry Night'.  The Milky Way was particularly well defined
- its size and magnitude is very humbling, and a great
reminder of our own insignificance and frailty.  We saw
about a dozen shooting stars, and our wish was merely that
such moments could last forever.

With nightfall came a diminution of the heat, but throughout
the night we were comfortably warm on deck, and even during
our off watch snoozes, there was no need for any coverings
other than a T-shirt.  It was the relative coolness of the
night that had caused Paul to decide on a night passage.
There is little enjoyment in working a sailing boat in the
full heat of the day.

At about 7 pm, we enjoyed an international supper - hot,
spicy, samosas from India and Cornish Pasties from (at a
guess) Cornwall (in England).

In steering a sailing boat, there are two options.  One is
to set the sails, and then steer in a direction which makes
optimum use of the wind and the settings.  The other is to
steer a course, and adjust the sail settings as the wind
alters.  We were doing the latter.  Doing this during the
day generally means careful concentration on the compass.
At night, steering is easy.  You choose a bit of the boat,
and a star, and steer to keep the orientation of the bit of
boat and star a constant.  I chose the cross trees and a
nice bright star that Paul, who is a bit of a whizz on
naming stars, indentified as Arcturus.

We sailed up the coast, and could see the Seeb airport
lights, and the planes taking off and landing

At 2 am, we had to make a change of course.  We had been on
a course to take us outside the Damaniyats, but had to
change course to head for our destination - Wudam.  As we
turned the boat, our direction, the wind and the drifter
sail all became incompatible.  The drifter revolted, and
flogged around a bit, and we couldn't strike it as we would
have wished.  We spent an unpleasant 10 minutes on the
foredeck, that was slippy with dew, before we got the sail
under control and stowed.  At that point, I returned to the
cockpit, whilst Paul set up the jib-sail.  Falling overboard
at night is no fun, and we had spent 10 minutes just before
dusk checking life jackets, GPS 'MOB' (Man Over Board)
buttons etc.

At 4 am, the stars started to fade under the first streaks
of the new dawn.  At 6 am the wind failed, so we struck the
jib, sheeted in the main sail, got the engine going, and
motor sailed the last few miles.

At 7.30 am, we tied up to a jetty.  A couple of days later,
Paul went to oversee craning out operations.  We off-loaded
our belongings into a pick-up truck to get us home, and
spent a few minutes luxuriating in the comfort of the
air-conditioning of the pick-up.

And suddenly it was all over.  We were driving away from
'Rahmani', and past people who haven't experience the great
pleasures to be gained from a night at sea.  At such times
it is nice to be in 'quiet contemplation' mode, but having
had a relatively sleepless night, we kept talking to keep
each other awake during the drive back.

Toodle pip!!

Bill