SINGLE-HANDED PASSAGE. Contents include: 1. ENGLAND II 2. FAIR WINDS ... 20 3. ... AND FOUL 27 4. SPANISH WATERS 38 5. SPAIN 46 6. PORTUGAL 60 7. PORTUGUESE WATERS TO 8. THE STRAITS 81 9. GIBRALTAR 91 10. CONCLUSIONS 102 11. FIRST WEEK US 12. LAND SIGHTED 124 13. OFF PALM A 135 14. TAKEN SERIOUSLY 140 15. TRADE WINDS 145 16. GETTING ON 152 17. BECALMED 159 18. HALFWAY WEEK 166 19. TWO SUNDAYS 172 20. SARGASSO SEA 180 21. TOIL AND TROUBLE 186 22. HORSE LATITUDES 196 23. HEAVY WEATHER 201 24. AMERICA 208 APPENDIX 215 BEAUFORT ...
SINGLE-HANDED PASSAGE. Contents include: 1. ENGLAND II 2. FAIR WINDS ... 20 3. ... AND FOUL 27 4. SPANISH WATERS 38 5. SPAIN 46 6. PORTUGAL 60 7. PORTUGUESE WATERS TO 8. THE STRAITS 81 9. GIBRALTAR 91 10. CONCLUSIONS 102 11. FIRST WEEK US 12. LAND SIGHTED 124 13. OFF PALM A 135 14. TAKEN SERIOUSLY 140 15. TRADE WINDS 145 16. GETTING ON 152 17. BECALMED 159 18. HALFWAY WEEK 166 19. TWO SUNDAYS 172 20. SARGASSO SEA 180 21. TOIL AND TROUBLE 186 22. HORSE LATITUDES 196 23. HEAVY WEATHER 201 24. AMERICA 208 APPENDIX 215 BEAUFORT SCALE OF WIND FORCE 223. ILLUSTRATIONS: Temptress 9 sail plan. Frontispiece Temptress 9 cabin and deck arrangement. 14 Temptress lines. 16 A French tunnyman in the Bay of Biscay. Facing page 64 . . . Gigantic swell, Bay of Biscay. 64 Alongside the cay at La Corana. 64 Temptress sailing up the Tagus. 65 The invisible helmsman. 65 Approaching the Rock of Gilbraltar. 96 On a party to Spain. 96 A Spanish trading schooner. 97 Temptress on the slip. 97 The new and stouter mast. 128 Unstepping the old mast. 128 Off Palma a fishing boat comes alongside. 129 A fine sailing breeze. 129 Shooting the sun. 160 From the bowsprit. 160 During the gale off Cape Hatteras. 161 Temptress at City Island, New York. 161. CHAPTER 1: ENGLAND. THE EVENING of August 27, 1948, was cold, and so muf fled up was I with oilskins and a towel round my neck that it was with some effort that I twisted round in the cockpit to gaze astern. The once friendly land of Cornwall was already but a thin gray line, and was dropping fast as Temptress lurched over the waves sent tumbling down the Channel be fore an easterly breeze. It was my departure from England. Settling myself more comfortably at the kicking tiller I sighed and said out loud, Well, Im off once more, and will not turn back this time. Not that I was feeling particularly brave, nor had I yet gained confidence in the boat. Indeed, she had only become mine a few months previously, and this was her first season afloat for ten years. Perhaps it was a bit foolhardy setting off direct for Gibraltar, but it was comforting to know that the French port of Brest could be used as a bolt hole for the next two days if anything alarming hap pened. At least the boat had had a shakedown cruise up Channel from Dartmouth to the Solent and back to Falmouth and Helf ord before setting forth on the ocean. Morale Lad not been improved by the failure of my first attempt to reach Gibraltar the previous winter in the 20-ton cutter Content. Setting forth from Penzance at the end of November, I had waltzed into a series of biting gales. Vari ous gear had carried away, including the metal tiller jaws. This had left me with no means of steering for two and a half days, until repairs could be effected, during which time the loose rudder had worked open a seam in the lower part of the transom and water had poured in. Preferring to risk losing the yacht on a lee shore rather than foundering at sea, course had been set to return to England in a gale of wind with bad visibility. After a total of eight days at sea, the iron bound coast had been picked up shockingly close, but I man aged to scramble into some sort of shelter and anchor near Newlyn, too exhausted to enter harbour, and with the boat rolling ominously with tons of water in the bilges. I had had just enough strength to pump out before collapsing on my bunk. Repairs had taken some time in Penzance, the worst place I have ever met for yacht work. The firm, for some obscure reason, in spite of the fact that I had Lloyds millions behind me, insisted on payment before the work could be started, and finally we parted the best of enemies. In January, a friend and I bounced round the Lizard at night, over a ter rific swell, with the rigging lit up by the eerie blue light of St. Elmos Fire...
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