Catana Catamarans

Life's great adventure happened to us more by accident than by design. Having met in 1999, whilst taking part in a round the world yacht race, Dave & I attempted to settle back to life together in the UK. It was on a reunion weekend at the Southampton Boat Show that the accident happened.
Whilst I stayed at home, Dave went to see one of the skippers from the race, who had delivered a Catana 431 to the boat show. Since that moment, Dave could not stop talking about this boat, so I knew it must be special. However, having just purchased a house, buying a boat was not on our list of priorities, or so I thought. A few months later, we were halfway up the Eiffel Tower in a daze, having been to the Paris boat show and somehow ordered a new Catana 431. This is where things had accidentally got lost in translation. After looking over the boat, we were offered the chance to put our names down for a test sail and I urged Dave to go ahead. It wasn't until the champagne appeared that we realised it was too late. In arranging the test sail, we had also agreed to place a 10% down payment to secure our boat. In 18 months hull number 54 would be ours, so we had to decide what we were going to do with it. A four-year plan was made to sail as far as Australia.

The time flew by and launch day was upon us all too soon. Having made several visits during the construction process, 26th June 2003 saw us stan- ding nervously on the pontoon at the factory. The boat was finally being launched. More champagne was consumed and we returned to our hotel in a daze, the reality of the situation slowly sinking in. The first 2 weeks were spent commissioning, learning about the boat's systems and loading our things on board what someone later described as a floating condominium; It certainly felt like it. Pots, pans, cutlery, bedding, towels all the comforts of home. After all, this was to be our home for the next 4 years at least.
 
As France prepared for the Bastille Day celebrations, we prepared to embark on the first leg of our voyage. Our time in the Mediterranean was limited, as we had signed up for the ARC 2003 leaving Gran Canaria in November. We did have time to sample the delights of the Isles D'Hyeres, Corsica, Sardinia, Portofino, Cinque Terre and Majorca, before holing up in Gibraltar waiting for a weather window to make the break for the Canary Islands.

It was on this passage that we experienced the highest winds we have encountered to date. The low over Biscay did not move north as forecast and whilst we were en route, it moved south. We exited the Straits, expecting north easterlies, but found ourselves sailing into near gale force winds. Deciding to brave it out, we carried on for 24 hours, putting the double line reefing system to the test. The concept of not having to venture out of the cockpit to reef the mainsail was new to us. With 2 people on board, we successfully reefed the sail and have subsequently managed the system single-handedly with relative ease. As the winds increased, we admitted defeat, changed course and motor-sailed into 40 knots of wind and the small fishing port of Larache, Morocco. We learned two important things from this experience. The first is how well Papillon coped with this severe weather, giving us great confi- dence in the boat. The second is that weather forecasts are exactly that, forecasts... Anything can happen.

Getting used to sailing a catamaran was a steep learning curve. Being mono-hull sailors it felt strange for the boat to always be flat and getting used to the shorter rocking motion also took some time. I felt a little seasick for the first few months on board, questioning whether I was wise to embark on this journey and if I could cope with feeling off-colour for the next few years.
Thankfully, a few days out of Las Palmas, I got my sea legs and was able to cook up a storm in the galley, keeping the four crewmembers well fed during our 17-day passage (we chose not use our engines during the rally). With a large fridge and separate freezer on board, we had fresh food to eat until a day or so before our arrival in St Lucia. Having spent quite a bit of time on the yacht race cooking for a crew of 14 on a 19 metre racing mono-hull, ricocheting around the galley and getting battered and bruised, it was a welcome change to cook on a multi-hulls. Looking out into the cockpit, I had lots of space, a fixed stove, comparatively little boat movement and the odd piece of non-slip fabric around to stop things sliding away. Our water-maker was fully tested on this passage. Making a litre per minute, we never had a problem, even with 5 on board there was no excuse not to shower.
 
The Caribbean
 
Since Papillon's launch we'd had lots of visitors on board. So it was in St Lucia that we bade farewell to our crew and we were finally sailing on our own. We spent two seasons in the Caribbean. Christmas Antiguan style, New Year in St Barts as we travelled north, to one of our favourite sailing areas, TheBahamas. This was after a long day sailing across the Caicos Bank. The 35 miles of shallow water, 2 metres in some places, provided good practise for the waters around the Bahamas. Once away from the major tourist centres near Nassau, there are hundreds of anchorages, most of which we had to ourselves. This is where having a catamaran was a very big advantage. With only a metre draft, we had access to many shallow anchorages, inaccessible to deeper draft vessels, though nerves of steel were needed to negotiate the reefs. We anchored very close to beautiful deserted beaches and practically walked ashore. It was in The Bahamas that we discovered another use for our dagger-boards. Normally we lower them by 1/3 to _ when underway, to help with leeway and the auto-helm, lowering them entirely when mooring in windy conditions. Their extra use is as an early warning device before running aground. Lowered ‘till they are just deeper than the rudders, they protect them in shallow waters. As we have experienced, it is far easier to remove and repair the dagger-boards than the rudders.

We spent the hurricane season sailing along the East Coast of America as far as Rockland, Maine. Using the famous Intracoastal Waterway for some of the journey, we found it easier and less congested to go out to sea, set the sails and the auto helm, and then relax. This boat is made for oceans. Papillon's first anniversary was spent anchored in Sand Hole, a tiny lagoon just north of New York City. We had befriended several people whilst moored in the Worlds Fair Marina, in the shadow of Shea Stadium and we for- med a small flotilla as we sailed to Sand Hole. By the time everyone had arrived we had anchored with a yacht rafted on each hull, with the final boat arriving later that evening and tying onto the outermost end. We must have made quite a spectacle. Papillon's beam is 7 metres and with 3 other yachts attached, we nearly filled the bay. Our large cockpit was an ideal meeting place where everyone congregated for sundowners.
A guitar appeared and the mood was set. By the time the final boat arrived, we were well into our singsong, getting louder with every glass of wine. Suddenly a keyboard appeared and the ensemble was complete, our neighbours given no chance of a peaceful or early night.
It was a great way to celebrate our first year and we have made lasting friendships with our fellow musicians.

We fell foul of some of the thousands of lobster pots in Maine and had to have a prop repaired as a result. Unable to find a place for a haul out at an acceptable price, we found a boa- tyard willing to haul Papillon using a crane. Large shackles and ropes were attached to our chain plate amidships
and the strong points at the stern, the boat was lifted very carefully and left dangling while we got to work. We had seen the boats regularly lifted by crane in the Catana factory in France, but it was quite a nerve-wracking experience to be doing it to our own boat in America. The whole procedure
was a success and with fully working props, we headed south.

Unable to venture below the 35th parallel until the end of October, we found a delightful marina in Deltaville in the Chesapeake, where we left the boat to experience New England in the fall, which was wonderful.

We also visited friends met while cruising in the Bahamas. Based in Little Switzerland, North Carolina, we spent a few days with them riding motorbikes along the roads curling around the Blue Ridge Mountains. Then it was back to The Bahamas where we celebrated our second Christmas and New Year afloat.

We continued on to Puerto Rico afteranother trip across the Caicos Bank, making our way through the Caribbean islands to Trinidad for the next hurricane season. Our second anniversary was celebrated in Bequia, The Grenadines. Once again our cockpit was the meeting place and music featured heavily as a saxophone was on board as well as a guitar. With a rusty rendition of "Tequila," we all managed the words quite well, screeching tequila at the appropriate moment and sometimes not. Happy Hour lasted a bit longer that night, another peaceful anchorage shattered by our revelry.

Arriving in Trinidad, Papillon was hauled out for a few months, this time with a travel lift, a lot kinder to our nervous systems. With the hurricane season over, we returned from a tour of Chile, Patagonia and Argentina and wasted no time re-launching the boat. Papillon looked as good as new having
been re-anti fouled, polished and we had fitted a small genset. After 2 weeks of cloud in St Lucia, we decided that we needed a back up for our 8 solar panels, which until then had been more than adequate for re-charging the batteries, as long as the sun was shining. We finally left Trini, the fridge, freezer and vast amounts of storage space, crammed with supplies to last until we reached Panama.
I had to draw a diagram of the boat, with a list of where I'd stored every- thing, as a reminder. We sailed along the island chain that skirts the coast of Venezuela and Columbia. With strong easterly winds, we had some great passages using our heaviest and lar- gest sail, the gennaker or screecher. Now standard on this model, we paid handsomely for this extra sail and the upgraded mast, but it has been worth every cent. We use the gennaker the most, as the majority of our route has been down wind and the spinnaker should not be used in winds greater than 15 knots apparent. Spending a peaceful Christmas in Bonaire, where we could snorkel on the reef wall right under the boat, we moved onto Aruba for New Year, it’s casinos and night- clubs quite a contrast to the laid back style of Bonaire. With some time in hand, we had the great debate as to whether to spend a
few days Cartegena. The skipper won and with hindsight it was a good choice. Continuing our love affair with South America, we really enjoyed this ancient and historic city, even buying some famous Columbian emeralds.

We sailed straight from Cartegena to the San Blas Islands, which lie along the east coast of Panama. They have heir own autonomy, being ruled by the indigenous and resourceful Kuna
Indians. Once anchored, various tribe members visited the boat. First was to collect a small fee for anchoring in their waters, next it was the hard sell as long dugout canoes arrived filled with local women selling Molas. These are colourful, intricately embroidered and appliquéd pictures and I don't think any boat escaped from purchasing at least one. After checking in at Porvenir, we soon discovered why some cruisers had recommended using an agent.
The paperwork was immense. We stopped counting at 15 forms. So as we approached Colon we enlisted the help of local agent Enrique Plummer to handle our transit of the Panama Canal. The investment was worth it, especially as we were on a tight schedule and had to transit within a few days.
It was a fantastic experience helped by the fact that we used a local linehandler. He liased between us and the pilot we had on board and he also handled the VHF, which was particularly useful as our Spanish is limited to ordering food and drinks. During our transit, we managed to contact friends and family at home, who logged onto the Internet and watched us go through Miraflores Lock on the live
web cam.

Pacific

After a brief stop at the amazing Ile de Coco it was onto Galapagos. Once again we used an agent in Porto Ayoro, saving time and money. Whilst the undersea world was abundant with sea-life, provisions in the islands were limited. We were glad we had the space to take on everything we
needed in Panama to last us until Tahiti, including our longest ocean passage of 3000 miles to Hivo Oa, Marqueses. The water was flat calm as we left Galapagos. With the help of a weather router, we soon discovered that there was no wind within 500 miles north or south of the area and 1000 miles west. Papillon has two 40hp engines to power us along. When we are cruising we use only one, alternating between the two to maximise our fuel consumption, yet losing just one knot of boat speed. This potentially increases our range to about 1200 miles. Unsure as to whether we could refuel in Hiva Oa, there was a limit to how much motoring we could do and still have enough fuel for
Tahiti. As we were debating at which point we should stop the engines and just drift, the wind came and we had a great sail, mainly under spinnaker, completing the journey in 19 days. With a crew of two, we have found the spinnaker very easy and comparatively safe to use after being on a monohull. The risk of accidents reduced by not having a pole. The spinnaker is balanced between the hulls, which also enables us to centre the sail and go dead downwind.

Sailing through the Pacific was a true test for boat and crew. When we chose the specifications for Papillon, we tried to keep it as simple as possible with low maintenance in mind. But despite this, it seems never-ending. With parts and expertise almost nonexistent in the Pacific, it is even more vital to preserve the boat and keep it in good working order.  It certainly pays to be as self-sufficient as possible. With his engineering background, Dave has managed to effect most repairs, despite the limited resources and was pleased that he acquired enough spares as was practical whilst we were in America. We did find the Pacific challenging in that respect and were very happy to reach New
Zealand, where parts and expertise where readily available and realistically priced.

French Polynesia is another of our favourite sailing areas. Obviously much larger than the Bahamas or even the Caribbean, we really enjoyed the uniqueness of this region. From the Marquesas to the Tuamoto's, Tahiti and beyond, each area had it's own character. Some people found the sailing challenging, but we just ate up the miles, enjoying putting Papillon through her paces as we continued west. The beauty of sailing in the Pacific are the numerous choices of islands available. Whilst attempting to sail to Raratonga, the winds dictated otherwise. A quick look at the charts,
we turned right and headed for Aitutaki, spending Papillon's third anniversary quietly at sea. We were holed up for a very enjoyable week waiting for a change in the weather. Whatever the conditions, there was nearly always an island to sail to for refuge. Anchoring in some smaller
bays, we were happy to be on our cat, as we watched the monhulls rocking and rolling in the swell, whilst we barely moved. This is definitely a big advantage, especially with my tendency to seasickness.

Taking advantage of some settled weather we aimed for Beveridge Reef. We decided to visit there after talking to a yacht already anchored there on the daily radio net. The only way of identifying the reef was by the wreck of a tuna boat that had been washed up in a storm. It was an incredible sight seeing a wreck in the middle of the ocean and with only co-ordinates of the cut to guide us we held our breath and went in. The water was incredibly clear and we could see sharks swimming under the hulls as we entered the cut. The 10km by 5 km reef is submerged at high tide, which was when things became a bit uncomfortable, even for us, as we were caught in the cross swell.

The next morning we went snorkelling, sharing 2 meters of water with a vast array of fish, including a couple of white tipped sharks. Despite the wealth of food for the sharks, we felt a little vulnerable in our swimwear, mask and snorkel so gently swam back to the boat, which was rocking and rolling in the high tide.

We decided that being at sea would be more comfortable and left the cut, raising the spinnaker, en route to Nuie, Tonga, Fiji and beyond. On our way to New Zealand, we were fighting 30 knot headwinds, so the decision was taken to heave-to overnight.
We have heard that this is not a recommended practise for a cat, but we did it successfully and would do it again should the situation arise.

On our travels, the boat has attracted a lot of attention. The high freeboard and outside helms have raised a few eyebrows and lots of questions. The high freeboard and bridge deck makes for a drier boat and minimises wave slap. However the increased windage can be a problem when mooring, but lowering the dagger boards helps counter-act this and of course having two engines substantially increases manoeuvrability. We have been very happy with the outside helms as they offer a clear view of the way ahead and of the sails.
The high freeboard, coupled with the 7-metre beam leaves the leeward helm pretty dry. The only time we get really wet is when we helm in the rain, a rare occurrence. Though an image springs to mind of us negotiating the Savannah River in a violent and torrential storm.
Unable to use the auto helm in the confined space, Dave opted to wear his mask and snorkel, but this was definitely an isolated incident.

We are currently in Darwin having day sailed from Sydney through the worse winter weather on record.
Though the winds were pretty strong, at least they were in the right direction.
We are now making final preparations for the final leg of our circumnavigation, planning to leave in a few days with the Sail Indonesia Rally, sailing on to Malaysia, Thailand, The Indian Ocean, Red Sea and back home to the Mediterranean.
Having taken 4 years to get this far, we are sailing the quick route home. It should only take a year, if we don't sell the boat first.

Link of Papillon web site : http://www.yachtpapillon.co.uk