Our maiden Channel crossing in our Westerly Konsort, Sika, was beset with engine trouble. A diesel engine is a simple machine that likes nothing more than a good few hours running at reasonable revs… so we can’t really blame the engine for the various dramas encountered.
Hindsight is a wonderful thing. Gaynor and I should have been more than mildly disconcerted when we got a whiff of rotten eggs while revving hard to get off the Beaulieu River mud. But having taken a look at the cooling water intake and found it pretty clear, we blamed the smell on the mud and cheerfully headed off to the pub.
The next morning we set off bright and early to meet our friends Mark and Wendy in Yarmouth, looking forward to our first Channel crossing.
What could be better than a beam reach, sunshine and a steady Force 3-4? Around 1100 we phoned friends in France with an estimated time of arrival and a plan to meet at their favourite restaurant in Cherbourg.
A bit later, around lunchtime, we were looking forward to Wendy’s traditional picnic of pork pie, hard boiled eggs etc. The wind dropped so, in order to meet
