EVENTS: APRIL 1991 -- MAY 1994

DL Lemm

(Le Papillon is a 68ft LOA steel pinkie schooner, built in Maine by owners Tom and DL Lemm during the 1970s. Home base is St Johns in the US

Virgin Islands -- many miles distant at the start of DL's account).

Hearing from us after all this time may come as quite a shock. We apologize for our lack of correspondence, and thank you for sharing your news. We are happily afloat and healthy. The following should bring you up to date on our activities.

We spent the winter of 1990-91 on pile moorings in the Medina River, Isle of Wight, UK. We were very well treated and shown great kindness by our friends who live in the area. On 30 April 1991 we set sail bound for Scotland. On board were Ritchie Thrusfield and Andy Willard. A fresh northerly took us to Falmouth in twenty-four hours. Except for a close encounter with a naval vessel it was a good, if enthusiastic, shakedown. The continuing strong northerly wind prompted us to explore the Rivers Fal and Helford, then St Mawes and Falmouth. Andy changed places with his business partner Lynne before we sailed on 8 May. A north-easterly wind was predicted but we were becalmed by afternoon, necessitating powering into Milford Haven. Our crew took advantage of the rail connections to return to their responsibilities; we took advantage of the settled weather to push on for Dublin, Ireland. Rough weather held us in Dun Laoghaire, providing the opportunity to explore Dublin and accept the hospitality of our friends there. May 18 found us entering Campbelltown in the Mull of Kintyre after a passage of mostly powering in flat calm. Scotland at last!

Campbelltown has adequate shops, a very good laundry and reasonable bus connections. Ed Thorsett, American friend and former crew, joined us there. Our passage to Tobermory was generally without benefit of wind with stops at Gigha, West Loch Tarbert, Jura and Poulduran.

Scotland is amazingly beautiful. The land is a study in depth perception. Rich purple and green is framed by the dark blues, greys and whites of the sea and sky. The clouds and sun are constantly changing the mood of a scene seldom less than breathtaking, even when shrouded in mist.

We were joined in Tobermory by Ed and Lanie Porter, who have their own pinky schooner in Nova Scotia. Our cruise started in light airs, sunny but cold, with excellent visibility and an abundance of bird and sea life. We called at Gometra, Staffa (Fingal's Cave), Coll and Rhum before catching a force 6-7 north-easterly (with 8ft seas) to the outer Hebrides. We dropped anchor at 2300 (sunset) on 31 May in Loch Boisdale on South Uist. The next day we landed the bike for a run to the Co-op store, a beautiful three mile ride through fields where peat was being cut. When the strong wind lessened we braved a cold rain squall and a very lumpy sea to reach Castle Bay, Barry on 2 June. Lanie remarked "it's not every anchorage you can see a castle out of your port light".

We rented bikes to circumnavigate Barra and Vatersay, earning ourselves `severe fanny fatigue' (an Ed Porter quote) and an appreciation of the beautiful, empty landscape. The long, curing white/tan beaches were a surprise, as was the young fellow in shorts who explained to us, in pants and jumpers, how it was getting `dead hot' too early this year. That phrase was frequently quoted as someone sought a lost glove or knit cap necessary for watch.

Ed Thorsett left via ferry to explore Norway, thereby missing a perfect sail back across the Minch. However, off Ardnamurchan the wind fairly howled, though once inside Loch Drumbuie we felt safe from anything. Next we sailed back to Poulduran where we said a sad farewell to Ed and Lanie. But having the vessel to ourselves meant that we could catch up on boat projects -- inside ones anyway, because the weather turned foul. We returned to Loch Drumbuie for a week of gales, then explored Loch Spelve, Balvicar, Ardinamir Bay and Jura Sound.

Ed T rejoined in Loch Melford. On 27 June we set sail for France, but after a gentle sail dodging fishing boats we only got as far as Milford Haven before we were stopped by the approach of very strong, unsettled weather. We used the time to explore the River Cleddau and to visit our friends in the Tall Ships gathering. The morning tide on 16 July took us out of the Haven into quite a large swell, particularly just outside the harbour. But we had a good sailing breeze almost all the way to Falmouth, arriving mid-afternoon next day. After a quick visit we took advantage of good weather to cross the English Channel. At the end, we had to power to arrive on time for the tide through the Chenal du Four, but by 1800 were anchored in Camaret, France. The brilliant sunshine and warm temperatures were a welcome change from the UK.

Food quickly became our major pastime. Provisions were not cheap but were always good value and very fresh. Tom quickly learned enough French to shop at the Market Agricole where one could find fresh vegetables, home-made cheeses, pat', crepes, cr'me fraiche, fresh meat and, of course, bread. We were advised that good wine was any bottle costing more than 15 francs (about US $3). At that price we were able to taste quite a number.

On our way to Lorient to meet Francois and Monique Cossec of Vindilis, friends whom we met in Horta, we explored the River Odet, anchoring in Benodet and Cambrit. We arrived to discover that there was nowhere to anchor in Lorient, so we berthed on the inside of the fishing boat floating dock. It was secure, but cost 50 francs a night. The Cossecs treated us as family by entertaining us at their home and introducing us to Breton customs.

Vindilis led us around Quiberon to La Trinit' sur Mer where we participated in their Vieux Greement festival. There was a sail in company' into the Morbihan which provided us with a graphic demonstration of the French attitude to life and sailing. The fleet sailed into the Morbihan, as scheduled, on spring tides at the time of maximum current (8 knots), at the same time as the Tour de France race fleet was making for their finish line inside the entrance. They were accompanied by large sport fishermen chase boats which blocked the way of any vessel interfering with their favoured competitor. There were whirlpools, back eddies, overfalls, shoals, sixty of us plus our spectator fleet of about a hundred, and twenty or so of the Tour de France competitors and their guard boats and spectators. Le Papillon was under full sail in a light following breeze with the engine occasionally at full reverse to avoid running over someone who slew into our path. We were only hit once and hit no one, a tribute to Tom's boat handling. Ed played Superman on the mainsheet to keep our boom out of the next vessel's rigging, and I had the wheel lock-to-lock so often my arms were sore. Traffic and conditions were such that Tom did not have time to navigate, and he is pretty quick. The French revelled in it, proclaiming La Spectacle, and could not understand why we were uptight.

The day continued in the same vein when we were directed to a mooring off Sene which was too light to hold the two vessels assigned to it. The boat boys found us at the dinner ashore to tell us there was a problem. The mooring had dragged. Our keel was in the mud and the vessel alongside us was already hard aground, leaning over us as the tide fell. We shifted mooring, at night, in a 4-5 knot current. Tom used our own ground-tackle to turn us around in the current, paid out on the rode, then used the rudder to set the vessel across the current to raft gently to a fishing boat. What a day!

Two days later the fleet had a pleasant sail around to Le Bono. With less current and no spectators we had a chance to watch the other vessels: Bristol Channel Pilot Cutters, lug-rigged Sinagots, and many beautiful traditional yachts. We declined to participate in the festival's day races after the first La Spectacle, but we cruised with the fleet back to La Trinite for the closing festivities and to await weather for our jump to Spain.

Ed had to fly home unexpectedly but we were able to have Lisa Duder join us for a very nice sail across Biscay. One incident stands out from this crossing. Being uncharacteristically brave I sailed unaided into a thirty to forty vessel fishing fleet that had left a clear path open along our course. After a nearby tanker cleared the immediate area the fleet became a confusion of motion, with us in the middle. The Captain was summoned immediately, and the look on his sleepy face when he first tried to make sense of those lights will be a treasured memory. All business, and putting the vessel's safety first, he asked "What do you need me to do?". I resisted the urge to cry "get me out of this" and pointed out the four or five most immediate vessels. Tom dodged us this way and that and suddenly we were clear. Rueful smiles were exchanged and the off-watch sent below.

We ran out of wind near La Coruna, necessitating powering around Cape Finisterre and into the harbour of Finisterre, anchoring at 0300 just ahead of thick fog. It was here that we began to meet the boats from the year's migration. We made several friends, including Brad and Sue Swain of Nante. You could feel the `community' come together as charts were shared, advice sought and given, and fears tendered at the prospect of the ocean crossing. People worked on their boats instead of being on holiday.

We cruised on to Muros, which is a very interesting town though the holding in the harbour is questionable. August 28 found us in Bayona, a holiday town where a foreigner is an everyday occurrence. This anonymity was relaxing after the reserve encountered in Finisterre and Muros. My rusty Spanish had been useful, but not enough to have penetrated the insularity of the people.

Harbour charges in Bayona were 6 pta/sq metre/day (at 100 pta to US $1). Laundry was expensive but just affordable if you `wash only'. This was a boat-work, break-from-crew port for us. Lisa found a berth on an Australian vessel and has since settled there. Many friends caught up with us and visits between boats were greatly enjoyed. With the vessels you become close to it is more than social; it becomes like family -- warm and supportive.

After several days of waiting for a breeze and the offshore fog to clear, the two of us sailed from Bayona on 14 September bound for Lisbon. The log records fog, lumpy seas, fishing boats, warm weather and a deep appreciation for the radar. We learned that the wind accelerates as you round Cabo Roca, but too late to get the main down before it was pinned fast against the shrouds. We were caught having to steer between a tug and a freighter so we could not head up to ease the pressure. It was exciting for a few minutes at hull-speed, but we anchored safely in Cascais for the night, moving upriver to Alcantara Dock the next morning.

We thoroughly enjoyed Lisbon -- the architecture, the time-forgotten winding cobblestone streets, the good supermarkets, the Maritime Museum and the good transportation system. Several friends were rafted alongside us, which made for a cheery neighbourhood.

Karin van Hoolwerf from the Netherlands was the first of our transatlantic crew to come aboard. She left with us on 1 October 1991 for the sail to Porto Santo some 520 miles away. The passage was windy, with a confused sea and no shortage of traffic. We dropped the anchors (three of them, as we had trouble getting them to hold in the man-made harbour) on 5 October, finding Bill Perkes with Sherpa Bill and other friends waiting to greet us.

Porto Santo was an intersection where our `migration' converged with those who had sailed directly from northern Europe and Gibraltar. It is an excellent rest stop. The harbour is secure (once the anchors have been set awhile) with a pleasant town nearby. Visually it is a most unusual island. We rented a car with Nante for a beautiful day's touring including a hillside picnic with a barbecue.

The 42 miles to Madeira were accomplished as a lovely day sail with Brad and Sue along for the ride. The island is wonderful; the harbour rotten. One can go into the marina to raft eight or ten deep, but it is expensive for a vessel like ours. At anchor, the view is beautiful but you are subject to a south-easterly ground swell which wraps around the island and can quickly become dangerous.

We were treated with great generosity by Michael Zino and his family, and through their kindness were able to explore much more of the island than on previous visits. Of note also was an article on Foolish (one of our two cats) in the local tourist paper, complete with a half-page photo, done as a follow-up to one ten years before. Don Sandy, the editor, was a friendly source of information and help. Tim Penfold, our second transatlantic crew, joined here. The evening of 23 October arrived with a swell large enough to roll Le Papillon scupper to scupper. After considering the weather reports, Tom decided to go back to Porto Santo as opposed to leaving for the Canaries. We made harbour just after dark next day, after seeing several impressive waterspouts and squall-lines which we luckily squeezed between.

After one attempt to leave for the Canaries was abandoned when the wind died utterly ten miles out of Porto Santo, we cleared the harbour at 1100 on 31 October, bound for Tenerife. We had a lovely sail in light airs with a reasonable sea but quite a bit of traffic. There was one vessel near the Salvage Islands which we believe was a patrol boat -- it would not answer on VHF but crossed less than half a mile ahead of us, then made several course changes (including reverse) before coming back for another pass. That time, when I had got Tom up, they altered to pass well behind us but added fuel to my paranoia that `they're out to get me!'. A large pod of porpoise was the highlight of this passage, with a crew member logging: `Porpoise Attack!' We tied up inside the fishing harbour of Santa Cruz de Tenerife at 1130 on 4 November. The harbour is dirty but secure.

The yachting community was in full swing. Barbecues, volleyball, and local knowledge were shared. The city is welcoming, with many interesting shops tucked between the cruise-ship stores. The island is visually dramatic, volcanic wasteland tops becoming lush green slopes with the accoutrements of a habitation dominated on the lower hills and shoreline. We rented a car so were able to explore quite a bit.

Karin and I braved a cable-car to near the top of Teide, the highest mountain in Spain. We climbed the last half mile to the top, an elevation of approximately 12,000 feet. The air was thin, with smoking vents all along the ball-bearing like lava slopes. You knew that this mountain was not dead, just resting, and you found yourself taking care not to disturb it. The next day we drove to Los Cristianos to kidnap our friends from Nante for another successful picnic.

Tom Pierce OCC joined us here, becoming our third transatlantic crew member. Our crew complete, we stuffed the boat full of provisions, water and clean laundry. With Tom's best guess on the weather made, we left harbour at 0830 on 17 November bound for Barbados.

The passage was lovely weatherwise. Those leaving three our four days behind us got clobbered and those ahead of us had little wind. We set the squaresail the second day out and handed it the last night out of Barbados. The log entries reflect the rhythm of the boat on passage, along with remarks on the slightly larger, steeper seas than expected and `good wind' to `a-little-more-than-enough wind'. We adjusted to the changes in the wind's velocity by switching between a full mainsail and a main-staysail, using the effort required at the helm to judge when a change was desirable. The crew worked well together with only the expected rubs common to situations requiring an intense mixing of five individuals. Our speed averaged 6.1 knots, completing the 2939 mile passage in twenty days and two hours.

Tragically, the trip was marred by the loss of our 5 1/2-year-old orange cat Buster Brown. He flipped over the bulwark behind the dinghy while stretching up to investigate the scales of a flying fish stuck to the dinghy bottom. No one saw him go -- Foolish showed us what had happened. Foolish aged five years in a few months with the loss and no one to play with.

We arrived in Carlisle Bay at 1120 on 7 December 1991 and were directed to the Deep Water Harbour to clear in. The surge, the height of the dock, big ship fenders and the need to work between ships in the dock makes this harbour dangerous. (Several vessels were damaged during our stay in Barbados). Getting off the dock and out of the harbour was a nerve-wracking end to a successful passage. We were relieved to head out to anchor in the beautiful bay and to find Matthew Power on Chinita waiting to present us with a bottle of rum. Welcome to the Caribbean.

The weather was perfect for our entire stay in Barbados, therefore landing the dinghy was never a problem. (A ground-swell can make the beach a formidable dinghy landing). This was a reunion port as people met again after the crossing. The well-earned sense of accomplishment was thick enough to touch and a factor in every gathering. Taking advantage of the reasonable bus service, we were able to explore the island. The people are friendly and the landscape is very green and rolling, not as mountainous as many of the windward and leeward islands.

We sailed from Barbados to Bequia where we spent Christmas with many of our cruising friends. The actual meals and events were split up between Nante, Chinita, Allure (Marylyn and Colin Ford) and Le Papillon so that each vessel hosted a part of the celebration. We made a nice family.

One night during our stay in Bequia a nasty northerly ground-swell built up, resulting in Tom and Brad, with support from Matthew and I, having to rescue a Swedish yacht which had dragged ashore and was pounding on the reef. Tom and Brad risked injury to board the yacht and worked to secure the gear and deploy anchors. A small tug was called in and the yacht was saved. The owner, his wife and two-year-old daughter arrived home halfway through the rescue after dinner ashore. Surprise...

Tim left us in Bequia to make his way to St Lucia and a job as a windsurfing instructor, but as we made our way back to the Virgin Islands we were joined by Karin's mother Antonia and also Lois Brooks, a friend of Tom Pierce. Then Karin departed in Antigua to join Stewart Whiting aboard Gibbs III. Our ports of call included St Lucia, Martinique, Guadeloupe, Antigua and Dutch Sint Maarten before dropping anchor in Cruz Bay, St John, USVI on 12 January 1992.

Antonia left us to be a tourist in Cruz Bay for a week before flying home, and Tom P and Lois chartered a boat to cruise the Virgin Islands before returning to Britain. We `vacationed' for a couple of days in Leinster Bay before returning to our mooring in Coral Bay. There were mixed feelings when we picked up that mooring buoy. We were ready to be home for a while but it seemed a shame to stop when we had become so good at this! I felt that coping with the tight harbours in England and Europe had honed my skills and confidence in manoeuvring the boat, especially under power, and I had never felt more competent than when we picked up our buoy. I was delighted and desperate simultaneously. What we would not have believed had we been told was that it would be twenty months before we dropped that mooring again.

Work was slow at first but after a few months we were both swamped. I went back to servicing the short-term rental homes -- painting, varnishing, laying tiles and generally fixing-up. I also purchased a grinder which sharpens carbide-tipped circular saw blades and hope to expand to other carbide tools as a way to earn money at home and as a less physically demanding job in the future.

Tom worked at a variety of jobs: managing a marine service, building cabinets (using the deck as his workshop), welding, machine work, architectural drafting and renovation-type construction work. His last job was as general contractor for a 3000 sq foot house built on the beach in Great Cruz Bay. It was a first class project with native stone walls, tile roof, tiled swimming pool, mahogany cabinets etc. The house involved six months of intense work by Tom's core crew of ten, plus many subs including me. Tom also began to seriously pursue a `crafts' related source of income, using the boat as a base. This would leave us freer to travel and should eventually allow him to leave construction as a primary source of income. A trip to a craft show in Maine focused his endeavours on producing rings like has wedding ring which he had turned from old bronze and s/s prop shafts. He is now refining his procedures and producing beautiful rings and bracelets in a reasonable time. There are shops interested in handling them -- now to see how well they sell.

In our spare time we rebuilt most of the boat's interior. The galley needed new plywood ceiling and port lights. The `crew' section amidships now has our double berth to port and a varnished pine, cane-fronted, four-door cabinet to starboard. The coal stove and settee are the same. Our berth became sail storage, paint locker etc, and there is now a full work bench to port where our settee used to be. To starboard of the ladder there is a hanging locker. Forward of the ladder is now a V-berth area done in varnished cypress with white overhead and ceiling and sky blue elsewhere. The port berth could be used as a double if the people were friendly, the starboard one is normal seagoing size. Both have 12 volt reading lights, fans, and a central 12 volt light (hard to believe, but true). We also added a Furuno GPS to replace our worn-out Walker log and RDF and it has proved to be an excellent tool.

Several factors led us to make these changes. We want to slow down a little and not make ocean passages as frequently as in the past -- as a result the need for crew accommodation diminishes, leading us to claim midships for ourselves. One can now stand comfortably at the work bench, which is important as we begin to earn our living at it. Also we have been debating about `producing the heir' as Tom puts it. We tried to engineer as much space between the two sleeping areas as possible without sacrificing the galley, which is just too successful to change.

Once settled in Coral Bay we adopted a grey tabby female kitten we named Genip (a local fruit tree). She is now 2 1/2-years-old and learning to sail. Foolish never became as active again as he had been, but at 14 1/2 he still `beats up' Genip twice a day and can still jump our of the galley port lights. He is as loving as ever.

Le Papillon steamed out of Coral Bay at long last late in September 1993 for the first of several day and weekend sails. It was amazing how much gear degraded just sitting still. Many of the lower blocks had frozen up due to rusted strops, the windlass cogs would not drop, the wheel would barely turn -- not to mention that we had to find places for everything in the new spaces below. He we expected to be idle that long we would have decommissioned properly. She was given a serious shakedown in November when participating in the annual Coral Bay Thanksgiving Regatta. The first day the fleet was treated to two 40 knot squalls while beating out of the bay. There are fantastic video shots of Le Papillon lashed with rain, heeling over until the main boom kissed the water. No gear broke, the crew responded with grace, and we knew that we were back in the sailing business. The next day conditions were perfect, a page from heaven documenting the rewards of setting sail.

Tom's commitment to completing the house project conflicted with our proposed December 1993 departure to cruise the south coast of Puerto Rico, the Bahamas and on to the south-eastern US. We opted instead for a spring/summer cruise down island in the Caribbean, which we are currently enjoying as I write. Ports of call include Tortola, Virgin Gorda, French St Martin, St Barts, Nevis, Martinique, St Vincent, Bequia, the Tobago Cays, Carriacou, Dominica and Anguilla. Progress is being made on boat work and we are scheduling time to learn our `crafts'. It is nice to be cruising again, even if one defines cruising as working on one's vessel in new and interesting places. Beats working on it going nowhere! We plan to be back in Coral Bay by 1 August, work until December, and then hope to cruise north as planned before.

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