 |
 A web log of the sailing vessel "Gyatso" |
|
|
| Feodosia: No gift from the gods for us
Black Sea Logbook EntryDate:7/31/2010 As we neared the end of a long, Black Sea passage and entered Ukrainian territorial waters, we began to call the Ukrainian Coast Guard at 12 miles out. Their VHF radio call sign is "Lebed" which means swan in Russian. No answer. We tried again at five miles out but could only hear Ukrainian and Russian being spoken on the radio. David's Russian was coming back to him after our time in Georgia, but it was not enough to handle radio communications. The coastline was hidden behind the afternoon haze. When it began to appear, we could see a small warship shadowing us in the distance. As we reached the entrance to the commercial harbor of Feodosia, we finally received an answer to our calls, "Station calling, this is Feodosia Traffic Control." The cargo port dispatcher seemed to be the only one on duty who could speak English on a Saturday night in late July. As soon as we made radio contact, the warship disappeared into the inner harbor. The ancient Greek name of this port was Theodosia which means "gift from the gods." The rocky cliffs of the Crimean Peninsula give way to a low, flat plain with sandy beaches stretching to the Kerch Strait at the entrance to the Sea of Azov. We asked the dispatcher for permission to enter the harbor, explaining our last port of call and other information that formalities require. He asked us to stand-by. We watched the sunset and began to get nervous about negotiating an unfamiliar harbor after dark. A half hour later, he came back to us and explained that Feodosia is no longer a port of entry for private yachts, "We have no yacht harbor and no agents who can handle your formalities." He must have spoken to the elusive Lebed swans because he politely explained that we were not permitted to enter the port and that we should proceed to Yalta 75 miles away. This was not the answer we were expecting to hear after sailing 335 miles from the Republic of Georgia. Apparently there would be no gift from the gods for us in Feodosia. We were pretty sure that our
outdated cruising guides would need some serious updating for the Having the Ukrainian Coast Guard order us to "proceed to Yalta" was a bit like drawing the "Go to jail" card in the board game Monopoly. Instead of not passing "Go" and not collecting $200, we were faced with not being able to find a safe harbor for the night and not knowing if we had enough fuel in case we had to motor the 75 miles to Yalta. After sailing for 2 ½ days, we were in serious need of sleep, but the bigger problem was that it was now after dark and there was no wind. We explained the low fuel situation and our need for sleep, and then asked permission to anchor out for the night. "Please stand by," said the helpful dispatcher of the cargo port. Fifteen minutes later he came back to us on the VHF and granted permission to anchor outside the harbor. He then proceeded to guide us to an exact position as if we were a supertanker or a 747 landing at Chicago O’Hare. Lisa's heart began to sink as we inched our way to the designated spot which seemed like it was in the middle of nowhere. We dropped our anchor in 60 feet of water (a record for us) and comfortably spent the night among the other ships that were awaiting entry to unload their cargo in the port. The dispatcher asked us, “How
many shackles do you have?” At first we thought he was asking what depth of
water we were in, so when we answered, he replied, "Put more shackles
out." We finally translated his question as “How much anchor chain
have you put out?” We didn’t
try to explain that we were using rope not the kind of chain that is big enough
to count individual links. Saturday night anchored off a major Crimean
resort town at the height of summer meant that we were treated to a spectacular
fireworks show and could see and hear everyone enjoying the big amusement park ashore.
We figured that we were safe for the moment and that a good night’s
sleep would make all the difference. We awoke on Sunday morning, ate a big breakfast,
ran through fuel calculations and then dipped the tank.
Because of the shape of our tanks, we do not have a fuel gauge.
With the old tank, we used a calibrated dip stick to get a close
estimate, but with the new tanks we installed over the winter, it is no longer
calibrated. We can only rely on our
own calculations -- our conservative estimate was that we did not have enough
fuel to get to We thanked the helpful dispatcher from the night before, and he wished us, “Good luck!” Sure enough, luck was with us and by late morning we were sailing along comfortably in 8-10 knots of wind abeam with a 0.5 knot coastal current pushing us along to Yalta. Even though it dropped off again in the late afternoon it was enough to take the edge off our high anxiety and help us arrive before total darkness had fallen. Our saga of entering the Ukraine continues in Yalta... Return to
Logbook
for the Black Sea.
|
|
© Copyright 2006-2012 s/v
Gyatso. This page was last updated on 02/06/12. |
