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SWOT TEAM! If you cruise foreign parts, an International Certificate of Competence is as essential as your passport and Mastercard. And there's no better place to take the two day course than under some French sun on a bright blue Med. Text: Quentin van Marle |
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In this
thrusting age of wizzbang go-fasts, loadsamoney owners, and showbiz marinas,
it's a shame to interrupt one's boating with anything that seems like hard
work. But I recently did just that by returning to the Learning Zone in an
effort to recall all I’d forgotten in the finer arts of boat handling and
safety at sea. An effort, in fact, to achieve that increasingly useful
requirement known as the International Certificate of Competence (ICC). For me,
this is a bit like re-taking one’s driving test some 35 years after
I’d last glanced at the Highway Code. There is absolutely no guarantee of
success the second time around.
What is an ICC anyway? In effect,
it’s the nautical equivalent of the international driving licence. In
continental waters, time has all but run out for skippers with zero
certification. Ever more frequently, the official document that rubber-stamps
one’s ability to operate a vessel is the very first thing that
Mediterranean harbourmasters will inspect.
Oceanpro are a small,
British-operated powerboat school based at Beaulieu-sur-Mer on the French
Riviera, a few miles west of the maritime mecca called Monte Carlo. They are
owned and run by Phil Godwin, a former Royal Marine Reserve. Phil is in the
process of shifting emphasis of Oceanpro’s operations from Southampton to
the sunny and colourful setting of the Riviera. If, at my advanced age, I am to
return to school, the pleasing union of sunshine and the blue Mediterranean is
a handy draw.
The
course is held over two relatively stress-free days spent mostly at sea., with
the theory work covered a by a couple short indoor sessions, or over lunch, or
apres-ski style in the bar. Phil Godwin keeps things refreshingly informal,
though the RYA rules and curriculum governing the ICC/Powerboat Level 2 course
are unswervingly applied. The final exercise is held in a decidedly school-like
atmosphere; a heads-down written test inside a small conference room, when all
the quips and chuckles of the past couple of days are temporarily forgotten.
This is crunch time, when 27 correct answers from the 32 questions posed are
required for a pass.
THE GROUP
| In the truly glorious
sunshine of a Riviera autumn morning, three students board the confined space
of Oceanpro’s 5.5 metre Mako RIB, powered by a single Johnson 115
outboard. We are a convivial mix aboard a fairly basic boat. There is Russell
Crump, 32, positively public school with an appreciable dash of 007 tucked into
a hugely outgoing persona. He already holds a yachtmaster’s (sail) ticket,
but now finds himself inhabiting that slightly twilight world of the Riviera
Sunseeker salesman. Down here in the Med, the EU-recognised ICC licence is fast
becoming a necessity of his high-octane profession. And there is his delightful live-in girlfriend, Katja. Courtesy of Russell, she has many times been hurtled across these playboy waters in a fast Sunseeker – but she’s not been on board anything as small at the Mako before, let alone ever taken the wheel of a boat. Katja is a complete novice. |
 Journalist - Quentin van Marle |
And there is me, 57 and
feeling it. At different times of my life I’ve owned half a dozen
powerboats, but I’ve not driven one for two years. However, I expect to
find an ICC useful for a cruising project in mind. But I am rusty to say the
least.
The fourth
and most essential person on board is of course, owner/instructor Phil. We are
soon hanging onto his every word, realising from the outset that his approach
to the course is to be thorough indeed. We can see why he was selected as a RIB
instructor for the Camel Trophy endurance event.
DAY ONE
Following an initiation into the safety equipment and handling
characteristics of the Mako, the day starts close inshore with low-speed
manoeuvring among the buoys. We perform figures-of-eight in forward and
reverse. We pick-up mooring buoys, we practise coming alongside, and there is
some general handling to do.
It's all seemingly
kindergarten stuff - Hey going back to school is a doddle! - until it’s
pointed out that that one’s technique is at some variance with RYA/MCA
recommendations. For instance, with outboard or outdrive steering, coming
alongside is made from a sharper angle of approach than with a shaft driven,
rudder steered vessel. Also (I now know), correcting the steering angle while
gliding up to the dock should always be made in neutral gear before giving the
boat a nudge.
Between us, Russell and I have probably got thousands of sea-hours
under our belts – yet even at this basic level, we are both definitely
learning things, or at least re-remembering them. As for Katja, she is
seriously getting down to business, concentrating hard, and doing her best to
master each move as if her very existence depends on it.
These gentle exercises are followed
by high-speed S & U turns between distant offshore markers at various
points of the compass, thus testing our handling abilities in beam, head, and
following seas. It may be yawn-inducing to the nonchalant driver of a big
flybridge cruiser, but slicing through the swell at 30 knots on a low lying RIB
keeps you busy. At one point during the day, Russell admits to finding the Mako
more difficult to handle than any of the Sunseekers he regularly puts to sea
in.
Lunch is in one
of the marinas' many outside restaurants, where the time is used to talk over
chart plotting exercises and GPS navigation. Then it’s back to the boat to
practice buoyage drill and confined-space manoeuvres, the latter being of
particular relevance inside these tightly-packed marinas where the docking of a
boat is almost a spectator sport.
Given the weather conditions
(Med-beautiful with the wind at a pleasant Force 2), we opt for a change of
scenery. Round the nearest headland lies Eze-sur-Mer, a gorgeous bay with a
backdrop of high cliffs and cool villas. Down at sea level, the most prominent
feature is the rusty-red beachside hideaway of U2’s Bono, an easy barefoot
stroll from Julian Lennon’s pad.
Then we spin the other way, high
speed past Cap Ferrat and into the port of Villefranche, where the day’s
learning process is gone through once more over a welcome
beer.
| Lunch is
in one of the marinas' many outside restaurants, where the time is used to talk
over chart plotting exercises and GPS navigation. Then it’s back to the
boat to practice buoyage drill and confined-space manoeuvres, the latter being
of particular relevance inside these tightly-packed marinas where the docking
of a boat is almost a spectator sport. Given the weather conditions (Med-beautiful with the wind at a pleasant Force 2), we opt for a change of scenery. Round the nearest headland lies Eze-sur-Mer, a gorgeous bay with a backdrop of high cliffs and cool villas. Down at sea level, the most prominent feature is the rusty-red beachside hideaway of U2’s Bono, an easy barefoot stroll from Julian Lennon’s pad. Then we spin the other way, high speed past Cap Ferrat and into the port of Villefranche, where the day’s learning process is gone through once more over a welcome beer. |
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DAY TWO
The morning is dedicated to theory work in a nearby chateaux
(which doubles as the hotel for Oceanpro students). We cover the International
Regulations for the Prevention of Collision at Sea; the markings and meanings
of buoys; tides; weather forecasting; distress calls.
Back at sea, our afternoon is given
over to towing procedures, the all-important Man Overboard drill, and anchoring
practice. (Chain and rope, five times the depth; all chain, three times depth.
I had completely forgotten this elementary premise).
Back in port at 4pm, and it is now
time for the written test. At this point Phil issues a three-page list of
questions on subjects which have been covered at some point in the course. Much
has been crammed into two days, and this is the moment of truth. Phil himself
retires to an ante-room while we three sit in concentrated silence like school
kids. I hope I’m not going to make an idiot of myself.
As it happens, we all score pass
marks, despite the slender margin for error. Phil then issues us with signed
RYA National Powerboat Certificates, Level 2. In turn, the RYA/MCA will convert
them into the multilingual International Certificate of Competence, which
theoretically clears each of us to operate leisure craft up to 24 metres (78
ft) in length.
Katja, still a relative novice, is not about to go to such lengths
- not yet, that is. But of the actual course she has this to say: “Before,
I used to be scared of being out on the water. I didn’t understand one
thing about the sea or boats. But I had complete confidence in Phil, and now I
just want to be out there at every opportunity, learning all the time”.
She is unlikely to abuse her new qualification.
Russell is equally pleased with his
few days: “For me it’s been a refresher course. A re-learning of
those easy-to-forget basics. I’m very glad I did it”. Yes, me too. It
has honed rusty skills, re-engaged confidence, and provided a sharp reminder of
the rules of the game. Despite my lifelong resistance to bloated authority and
its epaulette-wearing lackeys, I have some sympathy with the growing
bureaucratic demand that all skippers be licensed to at least the ICC
level.
Besides
which, it’s a fun thing to do. Well, down in the South of France anyway.
MBY
Please do not hesitate to contact us for further information or to receive a brochure.
Tel: UK +44 (0)709 230 7223
Tel : France +33 (0)4 93 53 65 95
e-mail: info@oceanpro.co.uk