

On the whole, it wasn't that breezy overall, mostly "Yachtsman's Gale" type mid twenties. We'll be as peely wally as every other just landed Covid tourist but at least we'll blend in. The really bad news readers is that having achieved the bronzed, honed look of weathered, fit yotties from stottin' about in the mid-day sun for months, by the time we get the to the Maldives the tanned and honed look will once again have been defeated by days in the drizzly murk, gravity and lasagnes. Nonetheless, all the reaching gave us good speed. And, of course, we arrived in darkness.and twenty knots of breeze. They're not just cobbled together you know), we were reaching, in both senses, for the shipping lanes at the bottom of Sri Lanka in the no doubt misguided hope the ships would keep the fishing fleet at bay and chop up any nets laid in our path. That's stressful!Īt the time of starting this composition, (these masterpieces take a few days. and have to ignore the smug, "I told you so" look, and off you go into the murk and wet, under reduced sail, in more control and less stress. How come, an hour after yer missus says, "shouldn't we reef?" that you finally succumb, muttering about "it's only twenty apparent" and ETA's and other sad excuses, you finally stick in a reef, and often two, and. And therein lies one of sailing's mysteries.

We'd a day and a half of sun but after that, grey, wet and squally. It pretty much didn't stop raining since we left. Having poked fun at the weather on the west coast of Scotland, it darn well serves me right. 'Aard miles, especially when you've been veg'ing in a marina for a year. Exhausting! On the other hand, we've sailed over 1,600 miles. In the eight days (and ten hours) it's taken to get sixty eight miles out from Uligan at the north end of the Maldives, (at the time of writing) we've walked all of, well, seventy, maybe eighty steps a day. Wow! On the other hand, we sailed all of a miserable five hundred miles, mostly going back and furrit' to Kuah or Penang. Two point eight million steps apparently, an average of 12,000 a day. The engine and prop upgrades were detailed in a special episode of Deadliest Catch about the history of the Time Bandit on 16 April 2013.You're maybe as tired of reading that last lockdown year we walked over one thousand miles as we were walking them.


Built in 1991 at the Giddings Boat Works in Coos Bay.Engines: two 600 horsepower (450 kW) Cummins QSK19 diesels.An autopsy revealed that his death was due to complications related to sleep apnea. Justin Tennison, an engineer on the Time Bandit for two seasons, was found dead in a Homer, Alaska, hotel room on 22 February 2011. All three elder Hillstrands act as mechanics for the boat as well. Manning the helm are either Johnathan Hillstrand, typically during the King crab season, or Andy Hillstrand, typically during the Opilio crab season, with their youngest brother Neal Hillstrand serving as engineer and Neal's sons, Axel and Phillip Hillstrand, working as deckhands. Three of the five Hillstrand brothers make up the six-man crew. As of December 2020 the ship is still for sale at $2.8 million dollars by Dock Street Brokers. In October 2018 the vessel suffered a major engine failure forcing the crew to skip the season. The vessel carries 137 crab pots.Īndy Hillstrand, Johnathan Hillstrand and Neal Hillstrand The five men helped custom-build the boat's interior, including some comforts unheard of in a crab boat: a four-man sauna, state rooms with queen-size beds and a dishwasher. The Time Bandit is a 113-foot house aft boat owned by the Hillstrand brothers that was designed by the Hillstrands' father.
TIME BANDIT 2021 SERIES
It is featured on the Discovery Channel series Deadliest Catch. The FV Time Bandit is a commercial crab fishing vessel co-captained by brothers Johnathan and Andy Hillstrand.
