Into the Bug and Dnieper Rivers estuary S Sevastopol, Crimea July 21, 2004 Hi Folks, This log takes us through a couple of emergencies, a grounding and an anchor dragging in a thunderstorm. As I note many of the problems we encounter, do not think we have only problems, as we have many pleasant days as well. The internet system here in Sevastopol seems to work well, and I can send and download attachments until we leave, probably July 27th. I mention this as I am prepared to send pictures to those of you who would like to receive such. I have a map of our travels through the US, Cuba and the Bahamas, and one of our travels through Europe, the Mediterranean, the Aegean and Black Seas. I have pictures of golden onion-domed Ukrainian cathedrals, of Russian warships, and of bird life in the Danube Delta. If you would be interested and able to receive any of these, send me an E-mail within the week, indicating which pictures you would like. Needless to say, I have thousands of digital pictures on archive CDs of our six years of travelling, and have enjoyed giving slide presentations to groups back home. I wish I had access to a copy of Jane’s Fighting Ships to identify the major Russian warships here in Sevastopol. They range from nuclear submarines and missile cruisers, to destroyers, frigates, and amphibian-carrying assault ships. If I provide some hull numbers could any of you look up in Jane’s their characteristics for me? Let me know. Sevastopol was a closed city until a decade ago, and Balaclava was closed until just three years ago. More about these cities in the relevant logs. Thanks to those who extended birthday greetings and to those of you who have given me feedback. I enjoy receiving your reactions to and observations of my logs. Let me know if you want any pictures, and if any of you have access to a Jane’s Fighting Ships. All the best, Aubrey ***************************************************************************** Log #32u Into the Bug and Dnieper Rivers estuary Leaving Odessa at 1245, June 21, we were heading for Nikolaev, planning to anchor for the night in Berezansk’yy Liman before entering the Bug/Dnieper estuary. This delta is the outflow of the Dneiper and Bug Rivers, with a large sand spit across the seaward entrance. A few miles before reaching this entrance is a smaller estuary, Berezansk’yy Liman. En route while motor sailing, we were visited by a pod of dolphins, our first in a long time. Then a flock of Levantine shearwaters flew past in formation. However in the late afternoon with little wind, we were deluged by hoards of small flies, the lazy types that are so slow you can grab them or swat them easily. They did not bite, but were a nuisance as they walked into our drinks (they couldn’t swim very well), sauntered across our legs, arms and faces, and their carcasses blackened the cockpit sole as we constantly attacked them with dual fly swatters. We actually have been quite fortunate to date as we have had little problem with flies or mosquitoes, even in the Danube Delta as it was probably too early in the season. We had our computerized chart program running on our laptop computer, and hooked it up to our GPS to help us identify the entrance to Berezansk’yy Liman, as our Cruise the Black Sea pilot book indicated there was a buoyed channel off the main entrance channel leading into the estuary. However, our chart program had no detail for that side channel, and no depths, only the main channel leading into the Bug/Dnieper entrance. As we approached Barazan Island we could not see any of the buoys leading to Berezansk’yy Liman. We turned to port, outside of the main channel heading for the estuary, hoping to pick up some buoys closer in. We could not see any range markers as indicated in our Pilot. We could not see any beacons indicating the entrance. The shoreline was a low sandy beach with no distinguishing features, and even though we were within a half mile of the shore, we could not see where the entrance was. Our depth sounder seemed to be acting up as it periodically cycles down, frightening me that we are going into shallows. When it cycled down to zero, I knew that it was unreliable, but I also knew we were not in any channel and that there were sandy shallows around. We were straining our eyes looking towards the sun low in the west in this wide featureless bay, seeking the entrance to the Liman when we seemed to lose way and stopped. We were aground! If we get off, which way do we head? After wiggling, using reverse and forward to inch our way off the bottom, I was following the reciprocal of our course as indicated on the GPS. This is one of the features I like about our Garmin 128 GPS, as it shows the track I have taken so I can follow it back, retracing my course, heading back to the main buoyed channel a couple of miles away. As we were following the GPS trace back, we were called by Ocakov Control, and asked who we were. Ocakov is the control port just inside the entrance to the Bug/Dnieper estuary. We indicated who we were, Canadian sailing yacht Veleda IV, our length, and draft, our last port Odessa, and our next port Nikolaev. We had to spell Veleda IV phonetically for him to grasp the name. We asked if we had to report in to their port before proceeding on to Nikolaev. No, this VHF report was sufficient. That was good news. Then he asked again our draft, and directed us to proceed on a course of 180 until we entered the buoyed channel. That was nice, as we were uncertain about following the zigzag course we had taken in our search for the non-existent buoys leading in to Berezansk’yy Liman, and wanted to get back to the main channel. Ocakov Control indicated we would have safe water up to one cable (200 yards) outside the main channel, and that we should stay just outside the buoys to make room for large ships entering and exiting the winding buoyed channel leading into and up the large (60 miles long and 10 miles wide) shallow estuary to the Bug River on the north, and the Dnieper River at the western end. We indicated our intention to anchor for the night (it was now 2030, less than half an hour to sunset) just inside the southern sand spit. Ocakov Control concurred and advised us to leave the channel to anchor just beyond green buoy # 15. This we did and reported in as soon as anchored giving our latitude and longitude. Over in Europe the buoyage system is the reverse of the North American system. Here the green boys are to be left to starboard on entering a channel, river, port or upbound waterway, whereas in Canada we leave the red buoys to starboard in similar situations. (In Canada it is RED RIGHT RETURNING, but the reverse in Europe) It had been a long day from Odessa, even though we traveled only 38 miles; the wandering around in the shallows looking for the non-existent channel in to Berezansk’yy Liman and the grounding were not relaxing experiences. We stayed at anchor off this low featureless sand spit all next day relaxing. I took Sprite over to shore to explore the spit. Nothing of interest was found except the hulk of a concrete barge on the seaward side of the spit. I even had a chance to wash Veleda’s hull. However just after dark that second night a series of thunderstorms rumbled through, the wind blasting in from (of course) the only sector from open water, at the entrance, gusting up to 45 knots. As we were sheltered in part by the sand spit, we did not have heavy waves to contend with, only the wind. However, I was worried about the lightning in the thunder storms. Our mast was the only tall thing for miles around. If we were struck by lightning I had two gnawing worries that bothered me all night. One was if hit and we started to sink (lightning can blow out all metal fittings, depending on how close and how severe it is), we did not have a manual bilge pump, and our automatic pump would be incapacitated by the strike. The second concern was that if Veleda was badly damaged or sunk, we would have NOTHING as our insurance did not cover us in Bulgaria, Romania or Ukraine! We are currently travelling without hull insurance. At 2130, the drag alarm on our GPS went off! At first we had to determine if it went off just because we had swung 180° from our initial anchoring direction. We reset the alarm to 0.03 of a mile. Then a few minutes later it sounded again. We were dragging! I flashed up the engine and used slow ahead to reduce the strain on the anchor in the 40 to 50 knot gusts. Should we reset the anchor? Hauling up the anchor and resetting it in the dark in a force 8 gale was not something I would enjoy. We had plenty of searoom, and as the wind was blowing us parallel to the shore, not towards it, I decided to wait to see if we continued to drag. After a period without using the engine, we were stationary, and the anchor seemed to have reset itself, after having dragged 0.06 miles. OK, we stayed put, but as the wind was up all night, we didn’t get much sleep and so departed at 0600 next morning into the channel for Nikolaev into strong force 6 northwest winds. I’m not sure if I have explained before, but the drag alarm on our GPS is very handy and can be set for any distance and will sound if the boat moves beyond that distance. We also have a visual representation of the position, and can see which direction we have dragged and how far. We have to be careful in setting it, and I am often delinquent in activating it when we anchor. The alarm should be activated at the point where the anchor is dropped, so that the distance off will be from the center of the circular swing of the boat if the wind changes direction. However when anchoring, I am often preoccupied in calculating when Judy, up forward, is to drop the anchor. Then, slowly reversing the engine or letting Veleda swing downwind to lay our the anchor chain, I finally give a kick astern to dig the anchor in, watching Judy and our drift to see if our anchor is holding. Then, I realize I have not activated the alarm (to do so, I have to leave the helm and go forward a few feet to make at least 4 manipulations of the GPS, then back to the helm and engine controls). So, I some times do it at the end of the procedure (or when Judy comes back and asks if I have set the alarm); thus, the distance is from a point on the circumference of the possible circle we could swing in, not the center where the anchor was dropped. Mea Culpa! As we use all chain anchor rode, we use a 3:1 ratio. That is we have 3 feet of chain out for each foot of depth, plus a fudge factor for the height of our bow roller above the water, and a snubber line we hook onto the chain to take the strain (instead of the chain putting the strain on our windlass). That then means that in 20 feet of water, we would have at least 60 feet of chain out, plus the length of Veleda at 32 feet for the anchor alarm (our GPS antenna is at the stern) to be offset from the position of the anchor by 60 + 32 = 92 feet (the radius). Thus if I set the alarm for 0.02 miles, that is only 120 feet. If Veleda swings around 180° the GPS will think we have moved the diameter of 92 + 92 = 184 feet (the diameter) rather than the radius of only 92 feet. The anchor itself may not have moved an inch, but the GPS says we have moved 184 feet, and the alarm will sound. So we have had some false alarms, but we never ignore them, and if false, will reset the GPS. Thus endeth the lesson on setting the drag alarm! So, early in the morning after informing Ocakov Control, off we motored into a force 6 wind, upstream and of course upwind (the winds howl up or down stream most times, following the curvature of the river banks) on this cool gray drizzling day up the Bug River towards the shipyards of Nikolaev. Next log