Out of Europe and in to Africa

The relaxed friendly vibe of Estaca marina was an easy atmosphere to get used to, so it was not surprising to have met several people who had decided to stay long-term there.   Not wanting to wait another week before starting our next passage, we decided to commence the seven day journey south to Bajul in The Gambia, leaving ahead of some nasty weather which was due to hit El Hierro in three days.   We felt that, providing the forecast was correct, we could stay ahead of the strong winds and lightening that were predicted to arrive from the north on Saturday.

Several people came to say goodbye and wave us and Ruffian off as we slowly made our way out to sea.   It felt good to be moving again and we were excited about the 900 mile passage that lay ahead of us, our longest non-stop sail to date and a good pre-cursor for crossing the Atlantic in a few weeks.   We were ladened down with full diesel, water, food and anticipation, happy to be in the company of the experienced team on Ruffian again as we prepared to share the seas and next adventure together.  

We were soon under full sail heading due south with clear skies and flat seas in a comfortable 10-15 knots of wind.   We watched land disappear from sight, preparing for the next six to seven days of seeing nothing but water, skies, passing ships/boats and whatever wildlife we may chance upon!    The first few days were spent getting used to being on the water as the sea state became a little rolly and sea legs were certainly tested as we adapted to life on the lean and being bounced around.   Nothing was easy.  Making a hot drink would have broken every health and safety guideline in NZ as moving from the galley to the cockpit took courage, dexterity and determination to avoid spillage or scalding!   Eating on passage in rough seas, also comes with new skills and fortitude.   Fortunately we had prepared several meals beforehand but getting the food out the fridge was a challenge in itself.   We have a front loading fridge and a big top loading chiller.   Opening the fridge when the boat was leaning with the fridge on the top side, meant food could, and did, tumble out no matter how well we had stored it!   It became a challenge between the fridge and us as to how quickly we could grab what we needed before the contents deposited themselves on the work surface!   Our chiller presented different challenges.   As we were at the start of a long passage it was very full, so containers were stacked on top of each other.   We had tried being organised and having things like our butter, yoghurt and cheese stores at the bottom so we could re-stock the fridge as needed later in the journey.   On top of these we had our pre-prepared dinners and fruit and vegetable stocks while drink bottles were used as fillers to prevent containers moving around.   The problem came when we wanted to get an item that wasn’t immediately accessible and containers needed to be removed, balanced and returned in the correct order, while wedging yourself in and trying to stop the containers flying onto the floor with you closely following them!  We both have a number of bruisers caused by us being flung across the saloon by an unexpected wave which hurls the boat over to one side, and us with it.   Eating can look like one of those crazy Japanese game shows where contestants are told to do impossible tasks for the sake of entertainment.   For us it was saving the food from ending up in your lap, on the floor or scooting across the table and acting like a missile as it is hurled towards a head/chair/floor.  

After three days at sea we were still within sight of Ruffian, which was both comforting and unexpected.   The stronger winds of up to 20 knots, was in our sweet spot of sailing and the wind direction was ideal for Cerulean to kick up her heels and give us some memorable sails.   On day three the wind died completely so we decided to try different downwind sailing options – the cruising chute came out but that did nothing to increase our speed or lessen the frustration as it filled and emptied again, requiring constant adjustment and attention.   The chute came down and we changed direction to go directly downwind and poled out the jib.   This worked better but the sails were constantly flogging as the swell hit us.   With dusk approaching we thought we’d try changing direction again and seeing if we could find any wind on our side to pick up speed.   This failed too, so wanting to keep ahead of the weather system that was heading south, we turned on the “iron sail” and stowed away the sails.   We decided to change our direction and head south east which was where Ruffian were heading and we were now over 25 miles apart due to our unsuccessful attempts to find speed while Ruffian seems to love the lower wind conditions.   We motored through the night and I have to admit, it was the most restful and best sleep I’d had yet!  Usually while on watch, we sit outside under the protective sprayhood and enjoy being under clear skies, particularly with a bright moon to guide us through the long dark nights.   We look out for traffic as not all boats appear on our GPS, make sure we stay on course and the sails are trimmed correctly.   With the engine on we can’t use our hydrovane so we put on the autopilot, which frees us from having to handsteer the boat.   Surprisingly the temperature dropped as we continued south and it was getting quite damp in the evenings so being outside at night was not as pleasant!   We are lucky on Cerulean as our deck saloon layout gives clear 360 degrees vision from below so we can stay dry and comfortable, while keeping a good lookout and having access to all the instruments needed, including being able to alter course using a remote control for the autopilot.    I was down below looking at the empty seas around us when I saw a sudden movement beside me.   Much to my surprise, another bird had flown into the saloon, this time a very confused Storm Petrel.   I’m not sure who was more shocked by the unexpected company but I’m guessing it was the bird, as the poor thing sat with its beautiful blue/black wings spread out on our internal engine console looking around with a look of “Well this is new…. What now?”.   It allowed me to gently pick it up and place it outside where I hoped it would do a running start and fly away.   When the bird just wobbled and sat down I thought it had been injured but then discovered that Storm Petrel’s can’t support their weight on their tiny legs and feet, usually spending all their time on flight or in the water.   I moved it closer to the side of the boat and that was enough for it to get the energy to slip off the boat and fly away.   It was a lovely, brief distraction!

At 4.30am on day four, after about 10 hours of motoring, the wind started to pick up so we hoisted the sails and had one of the best sails of my life!   The sea was flat and I happily hand steered as the sun came up and wind built throughout the day.   We were flying at 8knots in great conditions and soon caught up with Ruffian again.   The wind continued to build, as we downloaded an updated forecast, using our satellite phone, to discover the wind and seas were going to continue to increase in strength and height over the next few days.  The weather system we were hoping to keep ahead of, had caught us up.   As the wind speed increased to over 25knots, we took down our main sail and reefed the jib to prepare for an uncomfortable night sailing downwind with confused seas and growing waves.   

That night was the first, and worst of three nights riding out the strong winds and big seas.   We were now heading south along the west coast of Africa but still over 100 miles from land.  Shipping traffic had increased with very few other sailing boats as most yachts head further west to Cape Verde.  Waves were crashing into the side of the boat, sending water flying into the cockpit and over the top of us, so we put the autopilot on and hunkered up down below.   We sped along at 6 knots under one small sail, talking to Ruffian on the VHF and maintaining regular contact with our friends on Zen Again on the SSB radio which allows us to speak to people much further away than on the VHF.   In fact, Zen Again were on passage from Madeira to Lanzarote so it was amazing we could hear them clearly and have a quick catch up.  

After enduring the strong winds and big waves for over 24hrs, Ruffian contacted us and suggested we break our journey in Dakar, Senegal and wait out the weather system.   We were all tired and concerned about the stresses we were putting our boats under after having waves bounce into and over us for many hours.    We agreed and slightly altered our heading to pass closer to the headland at Dakar.  Ruffian were about five miles ahead of us, always on sight on the GPS but not visible, as a haze was engulfing us, restricting visibility to about two miles.   We think the haze was from a sand storm in the Sahara which was only a few miles north of where we were.    We continued at pace estimating we would arrive at the identified anchorage in Senegal in approx 36 hours.    We had broken our previous record of distance sailed in 24 hours, which now stands at 165 miles and, to be honest, I’ll be happy if we don’t break that again, if it means avoiding the heavy conditions we experienced on this passage!

Each morning we did a number of checks on both the inside and outside of the boat.   One of those was looking for flying fish which had come to their demise on our deck overnight.   We managed quite a haul of these fish but were not tempted to fry them up for breakfast, as had been recommended by another sailor.  By the time we found them they were stiff with salt and looked very unappetising so threw them overboard in the hope that a bird or dolphin would enjoy them more!  

Through all of these testing conditions, Steve has once again amazed me.   He remained positive and happy, throwing himself into a project to make a new food hammock.   It became as addictive as doing a jigsaw puzzle and he spent his downtime creating a knotted string masterpiece – we calculated he had tied one knot for each mile we sailed on this passage, so a great memento of our first seven day passage!    Steve copes better at sea for the first three days than I do.  He has no problem being below and preparing food, drinks etc, where as it takes me a couple of days to get my sea legs and not feel ill when focusing on anything other than sailing!  

When the heavy weather had abated a little, Ruffian let us know they had experienced a number of issues and gear failure which they needed to sort out before the next long passage.  They felt they had no hope of getting repairs done in Bajul, but Dekar in Senegal, just 100 miles north of Gambia, could be an option.   We agreed to alter our course and head to Dekar, wait out the bad weather and see if they could cobble together repairs or even get replacement parts.   As the sun went down on day six, we approached landfall, sailing side by side.   It was amazing that we had sailed over 800 miles together and were arriving in a new country on a new continent, at the same time.   Cerulean had looked after us well with only a few minor repairs to be done before the next big passage.   Senegal had not been on our radar to visit but we were intrigued and excited to make landfall and start exploring.