Author: Helen

Senegal – First impressions

We arrived in Dakar, Senegal in the middle of the night, us leading the way with Ruffian following about 2 miles behind as they gently nursed their torn sails on the final leg of our long journey together.    Nearly 900 miles sailed in six days and we arrived on another continent within half an hour of each other, having experienced some great sailing, some no wind, big 5m seas and strong 30-40knot winds!  In addition to that, we had sailed to Africa!   I kept repeating this over and over in my head – we’ve sailed from England to Africa!  A continent neither of us had ever visited before and I, for one, had wanted to for as long as I could remember – and we had sailed there in our own boat.  To say I was excited and proud of what we had achieved, was an understatement – even though I was sleep deprived I was bursting with energy and wide-eyed wonder!

We wove our way through boats anchored outside the busy port and dropped the anchor in shallow water at the northern end of the bay at 4am with the sound of the call for prayer from the many mosques on the waterfront.   It was a relief to hear the anchor drop and allow myself to relax a little.   As Steve indicated the anchor was down I put the boat into reverse to bed the anchor into the sandy bottom…… except there was no reverse.   We tried again with the same result and checked all the cables were still in place.   Feeling tired we decided to let the wind, which was still blowing at 20 knots, carry us back and hopefully secure the anchor.   We put the anchor alarm on and went to bed after alerting Ruffian of our predicament and ensuring they didn’t anchor too close behind us, just in case our anchor dragged.  

In the morning we woke to find several fishing boats around us, casting their nets from small colourful shallow boats.   They heaved the large nets over the side and then teams of men pulled them back on board as birds of prey circled overhead.   Bird life was intense, with the skies full of birds of different varieties – stalks, herons, geese, birds of prey (Black Kites), crow-like birds.   I was in awe of the variety in a short amount of time and then, when going ashore, the noise from birdsong was quite overpowering.   The beach we were anchored in front of was bordered by low level buildings that looked derelict and the sounds and smells coming from the nearby houses gave us no doubt we were going to have a bit of a culture shock!   

Before we could start exploring or doing the necessary paperwork to check-in, Steve jumped overboard to have a look at the propellor.   What a guy!   As he turned the propellor by hand, it loosened up and when we tested the reverse, it worked.   I repeat – What a guy!  He appeared to have dislodged whatever we had caught in the propellor and now we were free to move again.

Ruffian had already motored over to another part of the bay which was closer to the Yacht Club and found a lovely community of visiting French sailors.   We joined them and had to move quickly to catch a water taxi to shore so we could start our check-in process.  This procedure varies from country to country and in the more remote places, you can expect it to take a full day to find, wait and move between the different locations to make sure all the paperwork is in order.   We were lucky as we met a beautiful French family who helped guide us through the process and even organised and negotiated a taxi driver to drive us to the various destinations once we had first checked in at the Yacht Club.  We then proceeded to the bank, police station, customs and to buy a SIM card, all for 10,000CFA = 15 euros shared between the four of us.    The taxi drive alone was one none of us will forget.  We dodged horse drawn traps to goats, a large turkey, people, scooters piled high with items (even eggs!) and cars as we sped down busy, narrow roads which was incredible in itself, but mix in the colour of the clothing the women wore, mothers carrying young babies strapped to their backs, people carrying heavy loads on their head, the street stalls selling huge watermelons and coconuts, young guys jumping on and off moving pick-up trucks as they negotiated narrow streets seemingly collecting passengers along the way, the dusty potholed roads, men dressed in brown uniforms directing traffic in the middle of the road with nothing more than a whistle and white gloves to protect them as people sped past with no central lines or apparent road rules.  We were driven at high speeds, squeezing through impossibly narrow gaps and it was a truly incredible introduction to a West African city.    We felt like we were on a movie set sometimes as the street scenes unfolded in front of us and we started to get familiar with the noises and smells.

Checking into the Yacht Club cost us 5000CFA = Euro7.50 per day.   This gave us permission to anchor,  access to the showers and toilets (not something we were keen to try), free wifi in the Yacht Club bar and, even more important than that, free water taxis from the boat to shore so we did not have to worry about the security of our dinghy while we were off the boat.   Sajio, the water taxis driver, came by at a pre-scheduled time each morning to see if we wanted to go ashore.  Return trip times were displayed on the Yacht Club bar door and Sajio was always there with a warm smile and eager to help, testing my high school French as I tried to make conversation!  

The words “Yacht Club” may conjure up the image of colonial Britain with people in blazers sipping G&T’s from a terraced bar over a pristine beach.   This may be the case in some places, but in Dakar you need to adjust your thinking!   The reality is a concrete shack located off the dirtiest white sandy beach I have ever seen.   The beach is so littered with rubbish, fishing gear, rotting fish and carcases of old boats, I’m not sure where anyone would start in tidying it up.  It broke my heart every time we went ashore and got dropped off at the broken wooden jetty to walk across the smelly beach, through the maze of old fishing boats and stray dogs.  

There was a makeshift camp beside the Yacht Club, where several tents had been pitched around a central gathering space.   Old buses, trailers, boats and some more modern house trucks, created a community of colourful people.   At night the sound of drumming filled the air and it was lovely to experience the relaxed comradery of the men and women that gathered in the dusty space, sheltered by some raggerty looking trees.

Mamma Bijou ran a clothing stall on the street outside the entrance to the yacht club.   She was always cheerful and friendly trying to sell us an assortment of clothing she had made with bright motives on them.   We commissioned her to make a couple of courtesy flags for Senegal and Gambia.   We agreed a price of 10,000 CFA = 11 Euros – probably expensive but when we heard how Mamma Bijou relies on visiting yachts for her trade and there had been no tourists for the previous 18 months due to Covid, we wanted to support her.   The flags were presented to us a few hours later and were beautifully made with good quality material. 

Our sprayhood suffered damage while we were on passage due to the boom rubbing against the top of the hood as we had left everything too tight and the heavy seas caused the boom to swing a little, which gradually wore a small hole in the canvas.   We wanted to get it repaired and strengthened before the damage got any worse.   Iain and Fi also had some more significant repairs to take care of and were recommended a sailmaker name Djago who was based at the Yacht Club.   Djago was a tall, quiet, gentle man who had an air of confidence and authority about him which we immediately warmed to.  He was making dinghy chaps (covers for an inflatable dinghy to protect the PVC from UV damage, which can destroy a dinghy in the tropics very quickly) when we arrived.   His work was excellent and, on seeing the damage to our sprayhood, recommended a solution and said it would be ready later that day costing 20,000CFA (30 Euros), a fraction of what we would pay anywhere else.    It felt good supporting people who desperately needed the work.  When we collected the sprayhood later that day it was ready for us and we were so impressed with the quality of the work, we decided to commission some dinghy chaps as we knew we would need them in the Caribbean.   It had been my intention to make them but Djago quoted us 250 Euros and delivery within four days which, when compared to the cost of a new dinghy or me buying the material and struggling to make the damn things, was a fraction of what it would have cost us in money, time and effort!  

For two days the taxi drivers were on strike, so we were not able to leave the area around the Yacht Club.   The strike was to protest about the police demanding large payments from the drivers which had increased substantially recently making it almost impossible for taxi drivers to survive on the small amount they earned.   Although Dakar is within walking distance, we had already seen some of the neighbouring settlements and did not feel it was wise walking through them without more local knowledge.   Instead Steve and I decided to walk to the nearby fish market that we could see each morning taking place on the beach.   A constant flow of pirogues (small fishing boats) made their way through our anchorage to the market each day to off load their catch.    We had also been told there was a place we could buy fresh baguettes and had been given one by a kind Frenchman on another yacht, the day before.   The walk took us along a dusty road, over an open sewer that ran out to the beach, down a wide track and into the market.   Men carried large trays of fish from the colourful pirogues that had been driven into the shallow water, and on to waiting trucks or stalls on the beach.   They carried the heavy trays on their heads, using a sandbag, tied around their chin to protect their head.    The flow was constant with loud chatter.   Men were sleeping on tables under the market stall canopies, groups of men were crouched together in huddles smoking and talking, people were scrubbing large, freshly caught fish, women hustled us as we passed, children approached us asking for money and others just stared at us as we walked by.   I have to admit that I did not feel particularly safe as we wove our way through the mish mash of stalls.   It was obvious we had sailed on boat to their country and compared to their lives, we were billionaires.   Most of the men were friendly with beautiful welcoming faces, but there were others that looked at us with distaste and loathing – it was these few that scared me.   We left and went in search of bread and we had been given vague directions of where to find a baker.   We walked past a couple of men guarding a modern home in the dusty street.  The men were eating a baguette so I asked them, in my best school-level-French where we could buy bread.  They directed us to keep walking straight on, which led us into a type of market, although it was, in truth, a ramshackle selection of crowded huts.   We were directed again to a small, falling down hut made of corrugated iron and sacking.  A toothless man was squatting on a mat with his young son sitting beside him.   We asked for bread and he threw back a blanket over a wooden bucket to display a bundle of fresh baguettes while swatting at flies in a failed attempt to keep them off the bread. 

Life in West Africa, like the fabric worn by the women, is colourful and varied, and we wanted to see more so, together with our fellow musketeers, Iain and Fi, we booked a taxi for the day to see the highlights of what Dakar could offer. 

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.

El Hierro – Saving the best for last

We set sail for the last of the eight islands that make up the archipelago of The Canaries.   We had not visited two of the main islands, Fuerto Ventura and La Palma.   We skipped the former as we needed to get from Lanzarote to Tenerife quickly due to our battery issues, and we missed the latter due to the volcano that started erupting in September 2021 and was still threatening livelihoods.   The marina was open and many yachts were taking advantage of visiting the island to experience the activity for themselves.   We would have loved to have done this, but needed to continue to El Hierro to rendezvous with Ruffian and finalise our imminent departure from The Canaries.  

As we left La Gomera we could see four islands – The peak of La Tiede on Tenerife, the coastline of La Gomera, the growing shape of El Hierro in front of us and the outline of La Palma to the west.    The wind had faded to nothing and we ended up motoring most of the 35NM to Puerto De La Estaca, taking advantage of having the engine on by making water for a few hours along the way.   When the wind increased a little, we unfurled the sails but found it hard to maintain 4knots so only enjoyed the peace and tranquillity of the passage for about an hour.   I don’t like motoring, for a number of reasons – the noise (even though our new engine is so much quieter and cleaner than the old one, it’s still noisy when you’re down below), the cost of burning fuel and finally, I feel it’s cheating when we are a sail boat!  

We spent our time reading, talking and playing with knots!   Steve had a go at making a food hammock by knotting several lengths of string.   The hammock we were using proved unsuitable, with several of our precious fruit, falling through the holes.  We tried many different variations, including putting the fruit in two plastic colanders before putting them in the hammock that was strung outside behind the steering wheel, but the hammock strained under the weight and the colanders tilted over precariously so we ended up taking it down.   We don’t like storing the fruit in the boat as they attract fruit flies which then lay eggs in the boat and infest other food in our stores, so we try to keep any fruit outside.   Steve’s project has a little way to go, but will keep him busy while on passage!   Next he’ll be taking orders for any knitting requirements!  Kidding!

We arrived at the marina without being able to get hold of anyone, except for Iain and Fi on Ruffian who assured us there was plenty of space.   We had emailed the marina a few days earlier and been told there was no need to book a berth in this new facility as there was always lots of room.    As we arrived at the small marina we could see this was very true.   A whole pontoon finger was empty so we were able to pick our space while being welcomed by Fi who caught our lines – it was great to be back in the company of Team Ruffian.    We celebrated that night on board Ruffian and were joined by Peter and Inge from the boat next to them.   We had been in touch with Peter a few weeks earlier as they were also sailing to The Gambia.   They founded a Dutch campaign called fossilfreearoundtheworld which they run from their sustainable yacht, Ya.   We had a lovely evening getting to know Peter and Inge and catching up on each others news and plans.

The next day we went over to see Ruffian for morning coffee and as I was climbing on board, I felt a sharp pain in my back and was unable to straighten up without considerable pain.  Steve helped me back to Cerulean where I took some painkillers and anti-inflammatories and lay flat on my back for the rest of the day!    Steve joined team Ruffian for a trip into the main town of Valverde for one of Iain’s “epic” walks.   While they were out Peter came to check on me after earlier having asked Steve if I needed any help and getting the answer, “always”! 

Later, as we were below, there was a heavy thump on our cabin roof, like a football landing above us. Steve went up to see what caused the noise and found a large, young shearwater sitting on our deck. Poor thing must’ve got disorientated and landed heavily on our boat. Fortunately it was fine and left us at some point during the night.

That evening was the first of a three night festival that was held at the marina with food trucks, craft stalls, music and children’s entertainment.   It was a lovely atmosphere with a range of music and people dancing, catching up with friends and excited children running around.   It reminded me of the street festivals in Lyttelton I used to go to with the friendly banter of a close community and catching up with old friends and neighbours.  

The four of us hired a car for two days and, with me still in considerable pain, opted to make the first stop the hospital.   It was hard trying to make myself understood but, judging be the odd way I was standing, and the back stretches I kept performing as I waited to be seen, a nurse soon realised what was wrong.   She directed me into a small room and gave me two injections – painkiller and anti-inflammatory – and sent me on my way, all done for free and within 30 minutes of arrival.    After an hour I was able to walk without looking like I had a pole up my back and the more I moved, the easier my back seemed to be.   It felt so good to be able to move, and move we did!   Over the two days we explored the whole of this beautiful island, once known as “the island at the end of the world” because in the 2nd Century BC a meridian line was placed in the most westerly point and remained a meridian line until 1885 when Greenwich was eventually recognised around the world as the meridian.   Unlike some of the other islands, El Hierro has both a beautiful, unspoilt coastline and stunning interior.   It has large flat plains, lava fields, extinct volcanoes, lush forests, black beaches, natural rock pools and pretty villages.   In short, a beautiful, special, unspoilt island.

One of the villages we visited was La Frontera – a picturesque settlement with calm natural swimming holes surrounded by jagged rocks and thundering waves crashing on the boulders around the pools.   Steve and Iain jumped into the cold water while Fi and I watched them laughing and acting like excited teenagers as waves broke nearby and water sprayed around them.  

We continued to a wrestling arena in the village, which is still used today for Canarian Wrestling where two wrestlers try to get any part of their opponents body to touch the floor.

There is another marina at the south of the island called Puerto de la Restinga.  As we walked around the marina we noticed a sea turtle feeding and swimming in the harbour.   It is one of the few marinas that has a clean beach within the port – we loved it and the laid back feel of the town which the marina is in the heart of.

Like so many of the other islands, artworks feature in towns, beaches and countryside. We stumbled across amazing statues and murals in hidden away places. One, close to the capital, Valverde, is a large plaster of paris construction that, on first inspection was a little unusual, but when we read the story behind it I liked it more! Underneath all the plaster was some discarded electrical equipment, fridges and even an old truck. Local children helped decorate the sculpture with other found objects, giving an impressive entrance into the town.

Once the car had been returned, Iain led us on exciting walks he had researched near to the marina.   We walked up hills and down cliffs.  We watched birds, swam in pools, were impressed by the many stone walls that zig zagged across fields and generally looked in awe at the impressive vistas we were treated to.  Every day my back was getting stronger and better. 

We had originally intended to only spend a few days in El Hierro but, with no wind forecast and an opportunity to rest my back, we were happily delayed on the island, along with a number of other boats in the marina who were waiting for the same good weather window to leave.   We decided it would be a perfect opportunity to meet new people so, with Ruffian, we organised a Sailors Sunday Sundowners and encouraged all the boats to bring food to share.    The turnout was great with most of the boats represented with people from France, Netherlands, Germany, Switzerland, Spain, USA, Norway, UK and of course NZ attending.   It was a lovely evening and afterwards the marina had a very different feel with everyone mixing, visiting other boats and more laughter and conversation.

The weather started to change and a window opened up for us to leave.   Iain had managed to work out why our Satellite phone would not allow us to send emails – a huge achievement and mission which we would not have found without him.    We were ready to go.   I spent the last day baking and preparing food for the 7 to 9 day passage, while Steve worked his way through a long list of last minute jobs.

We were about to start the longest passage either of us had done yet with 900NM of ocean in front of us.   We felt excited and ready to leave Europe behind and start exploring another continent.   El Hierro had been a perfect way to draw a line under our 20 month European adventure and we really did feel we had saved the best island in the Canaries to last.

La Gomera – Checking in with family and checking out of Canaries

La Gomera is the second smallest of the islands in The Canaries and is the most lush due to its micro-climate. We set sail with huge expectations, as many before us had said it was the most beautiful of all the islands.

We slipped out of the anchorage at Anfi Del Mar in Gran Canaria before it was light – which, seeing as it doesn’t get light until after 7am, did not necessarily mean it was horrendously early!   The forecast was for strong winds and this, on top of the acceleration zone, determined our early start to ensure we could be well on our way before the winds piped up later in the day.   We reefed our mainsail and made steady progress towards the southern most point of Tenerife.   We had booked into La Gomera marina for the following night, so wanted to ensure we were within easy reach for a slow sail in the shadow of Tenerife for the next day.   The wind continued to increase during the passage, getting over 30knots on occasions and the sea was very rolly as we approached Tenerife but Cerulean handled the conditions well and, as we rounded the southern most point of Tenerife, the seas calmed and wind dropped significantly.   

We anchored in Los Cristianos, just south of the popular tourist destination of Playa de las Americas but far enough away to enjoy a quiet night on anchor.   The bay was small with only room for around seven yachts and we were the seventh!   We anchored next to a Dutch friend’s boat and talked to him on the VHF for a while as neither of us had our dinghies inflated, but shared a drink over the radio and watched the sunset together!

The next morning we left early for La Gomera.  The sea was flat with not even a breath of wind so we motored and practiced different down-wind sailing sail plan options.    As we were drifting and playing with different sails, we noticed dark shapes in the water beside us and soon realised we were close to a pod of pilot whales.   We drifted and watched these magnificent animals slowly feeding and making their way north until a number of whale watch boats powered over towards us and chased the whales away.   It was a very special moment we shared with the whales in the peace and tranquility of the flat sea just watching them feed and listening to them blowing air and spurting water a few feet from the boat.  

The passage from Tenerife to La Gomera was only 20 nautical miles but we were in no hurry and, with no wind most of the way, we motored until we were about 10 miles from our destination when we unfurled the jib and enjoyed a leisurely sail.    I was not paying full attention and should have been more observant, so when we were hit with the acceleration winds a few miles east of the island, we had to act quickly to reef the jib.   We continued at good speed with just the one sail up but reefed down, until we were close to the entrance to the marina.    San Sebastian is the capital of the island and, once again we had problems contacting the marina to announce our arrival.   We were given permission to proceed through the port and follow the clearly marked buoyed channel into the marina.  Fortunately someone was there to help us berth and we happily settled into the lovely environment with big cliffs in front of us and colourful houses clinging onto the hillside, providing a wonderful backdrop to the small marina.  

La Gomera is almost circular in shape and is the second smallest island in the group. It has a population of around 22,000 and has a reputation of being so beautiful that many sailors arrive and never want to leave! It is lush and has its own micro-climate in the upper reaches of the island which is in contrast to the dry, steep cliffs on the coast. Christopher Columbus apparently enjoyed visiting this small island due to the fact that he was, allegedly, having an affair with the islands First Lady and they would secretly meet in the Torre del Conde, an old tower in a park on the waterfront.

Steve and I walked around the small town, visited the museum and climbed lots of steps to look out across the bay towards Tenerife. A dark stripe on the water clearly showed where the acceleration winds started which was fascinating to see from up high and interesting to watch boats approaching the zone, many being caught out in the same way we had been!

Back at the marina, once we managed to find the office to check in (it was not where the sign said it was…!), I was pleasantly surprised when I was able to arrange a space for Take Five to join us so we could spend more precious time with my sister and the Take Five crew.   A number of other boats had been trying for weeks for a space, and failed! Take Five had experienced an exciting passage from Gran Canaria, being hit by 40 knot winds so were really pleased we had been able to secure them a place.

Sadly, despite all our attempts, there were no hire cars available on the island which meant that our exploration had to be constrained to buses which definitely detracted from the full appreciation of the island.   Steve, Bea and I caught the bus to explore an area I had identified as a must see, but we missed the stop and ended up at the end of the bus route in the small town of Vallehermoso on the northern side of the island.   Fortunately the bus ride was beautiful and took us on windy, cliff edge roads around the rocky centre and northern coastline.    We found a lovely walk in the hills, climbing steep slopes following an initially, badly marked path through houses, up steps and then a gravel, dusty path leading sharply up a hill.   As we climbed higher the stone walls that terrace La Gomera’s steep hills became more apparent.   The island is lusher than its neighbours and has an ideal climate for agriculture.  However, the terrain is not so conducive, so from the late 1400’s to mid 1900’s,  the land was terraced to grow mainly tomatoes and bananas.  Sadly, as more people turned to tourism for a living, agricultural-based activities were abandoned so the stone walls started to fall into disrepair.   Recently they have been recognised as a World Heritage site and work has begun to restore and save the many terraces that are found all over the island.    The landscape is beautiful with the mixture of natural and man-made vistas across deep valleys and steep slopes. 

Our time with Bea and Andy was special but short.   We shared some great dinners and, on the last night, Suzi and Candice entertained us with beautiful music and singing.   We felt very privileged to spend time with this lovely, talented family but it was time to go our separate ways again.   We checked out of The Canaries, although were heading to the last island in the group but there were no check out facilities after La Gomera.   The procedure was not very formal and we’re unsure how “legal” it was, but we were given a photocopy of our passport with a date and marina stamp, which seemed to confirm we had the intention of leaving the country!

We said goodbye to Bea and Andy again, and left as Take Five blew their horn and waved us off.    We motored in no wind to the south of the island and anchored in a tiny bay on the South West side of La Gomera in an anchorage recommended us by an intrepid friend who had cruised the Canaries extensively a year ago and said this was one of his favourite anchorages.   We could see why as the bay was only big enough for one boat to anchor and the impressive cliffs rose above us and seemed to hold us close in on both sides.    A cave to the east was tantalisingly close but too far away for us to explore without inflating the dinghy.   As the moon came up we relished the peace and quiet of being alone in a beautiful anchorage and felt it was an apt farewell to another stunning island in this archipelago that has surprised us at every turn.    I felt we had not done La Gomera justice but from the little we had seen of the island, we had loved it and were once again leaving with the wish to see more.

Gran Canaria – Friends, family and gas bottles

We were headed to Gran Canaria for two reasons only.  We are members of the Ocean Cruising Club (OCC) – an excellent organisation for long distance sailors which gives us access to training, support and friendship around the world.   In fact, it was through OCC we had met Ruffian as well as many other wonderful people as we add miles to our journey.   

OCC have Port Officers located in popular cruising destinations around the world.   The Port Officers are volunteers who are usually experienced sailors and share a passion for meeting like-minded people.   Agustin is the Port Officer, based in Pasito Blanco on the south coast of Gran Canaria.  He had invited all visiting OCC members to a BBQ at his home at the end of October.   In addition to attending the party, my sister, Bea and brother-in-law, Andy, were joining a friend’s boat in early November to sail across the Atlantic with them, so were flying into Las Palmas, the capital of Gran Canaria, a few days after the BBQ.    We looked forward to both events with equal excitement!

We had a great sail in 15-20knot winds and, for once, proved to Ruffian that Cerulean has pace when the conditions are right.  Two boats on the water at the same time is a race after-all and so far Ruffian was beating us hands down!   With perfect conditions for us, we sped away from Tenerife, putting a reef in the main just before the acceleration zone caused the winds to increase by another 5-10knots and then fade to nothing as we came close to the land in the SW of the island.    We spent the first night in a quiet, anchorage before heading further east towards the more touristy bays of the island.

Iain led us on, what had become, a regular adventurous morning walk, usually involving climbing steep hills, finding hidden pathways with the promise of spectacular views at the end.   We had fun discovering new places, meeting interesting people along the way and generally getting hot and sweaty as the late morning sun beat down on us!   It was nearly November and yet the daytime temperatures were still in the mid to high 20’s and we had seen no rain since arriving in Porto Santo six weeks earlier.  

Anchorages and marinas were getting very busy with boats preparing to leave to cross the Atlantic as boats from all over Europe converged on the small island.   The annual Atlantic Rally for Cruisers (ARC) was leaving from Las Palmas, the island’s Capital in the north, with the first fleet of over 70 boats due to leave in less than a week, so Gran Canaria was becoming the main hub for transiting yachts from around the world.   Considering all this, we were surprised we managed to find space in the small, friendly and lovely marina at Puerto De Mogan for a few nights.   As we waited to get clearance to enter the marina we practiced reversing in the bay outside the entrance as Ruffian alerted us that we would need to use Mediterranean mooring – a first for us.   This involves reversing into a tight space between two boats, fixing two mooring lines from the stern (back of boat) and picking up two lines at the bow (front).   Cerulean does not reverse well, particularly if a gust of wind catches her, and I had avoided reversing into tight spots but now had no choice.    The reversing practice went well with Cerulean, and me, responding well to the test course Steve instructed us to follow!   By the time we entered the marina I was feeling quite confident and luckily we had been allocated a space with plenty of room for us to swing around and approach the berth straight on in reverse.   We had executed our first Med Mooring and nailed it!  

We hired a car for a day and this time, with me driving, the fearless foursome set off to explore our third island together.   It did not take long until we were out of the built up tourist destinations and back in the hills, to discover the beauty of the inner part of the island.   It seems that all the islands we have explored so far, have an unspoilt inner landscape which is very different to the towns on the edges of the island.    Gran Canaria is no different with roads that twist around high mountains and sheer drops on the other side.   With me driving I had a very different experience this time, not wanting to drag my eyes away from the narrow roads as my happy passengers exclaimed wonder and joy at the vistas they were able to view as I negotiated buses, tight corners and other hire cars while driving a manual on the right side of the road!     Having said all that, it was still a wonderful day.   We went from sand dunes in the south east to the high rocky hills of the central north, visiting mountain villages and walking through beautiful terrain.  

On the way back to the boat we stopped at a large supermarket and loaded up the car with as much food and supplies as we could fit, before Fi and I returned for a second shop after dropping off the boys.    We bought enough tins and non-perishable items to fill almost every storage space in the boat, stowed everything carefully and felt confident we now had sufficient stocks to last us until the end of January. 

Agustin, the local OCC Port Officer, is a wonderful, helpful, patient and generous man.  He recently retired from a long career in the airline industry and is now preparing his boat to fulfil a dream to sail to Tonga.   Agustin had offered to help us try to refill the gas bottles we had failed to fill in Lanzarote and collected us early one morning to drive us to a gas depot close to Las Palmas.   The facility was only open to the public between 9 – 11am and the drive was 40 minutes so we woke early to make sure we did not keep Agustin waiting.   On arriving at the facility we had our gas bottles taken from us and placed outside a portacabin while we were told to wait.   We waited and waited.  In fact we waited for over an hour without the bottles being collected or anyone taking any notice of them or us.   Eventually a big truck arrived and loaded our two empty bottles into the cage at the back before disappearing round the corner for about 30 minutes.   When he returned he handed us the gas bottles and explained through Agustin that he couldn’t fill them as they were all out of date.   It appears that when we last swapped our empty bottles for full ones in the UK we were given bottles that had not been tested for over 10 years and this was the reason we were unable to get them refilled in Spain.    Feeling disheartened, frustrated and embarrassed that Agustin had just wasted half a day driving us around for nothing, we returned to the boat.  

A few days later we met up with Agustin again, this time at his lovely home overlooking the marina at Pasito Blanco when he and his wife hosted a great afternoon BBQ for OCC members.   There were about 40 of us who gathered and we spent a wonderful afternoon talking, getting to know each other, hearing fascinating stories and learning of plans and past adventures.   It was a very special afternoon in the company of inspirational, well travelled and interesting people.  

We decided to stay for a few more days in Pasito Blanco, welcoming the arrival of Take Five, the boat my sister, Bea and Andy were joining in a few days.   We farewelled Iain and Fi on Ruffian as they headed off to the lava flow of La Palma while we socialised with some of the other boats in the bay and waited for Bea and Andy to arrive.

The anchorage became a little rolly, so we moved further west to the most protected anchorage on the island at Anfi Del Mar.  Surrounded by big swanky hotels and sandy beaches, we were able to continue preparing the boat for the next passage and explore nearby Puerto De Arguineguin which had a surprisingly excellent hardware store which came in very handy when one of our toilets needed repairing!   

Bea and Andy arrived and we joined them on board Take Five for dinner to celebrate.   It was fantastic to be with family again and we enjoyed spending time with them, Suzi, Emmanuel, Michael and Candice on board their beautiful 59ft Beneteau, complete with piano in the main saloon!    The evening was over far too quickly but, with strong winds forecast, we were keen to make an early start to leave Gran Canaria and head towards our next island.   We had managed to secure a marina berth in a popular harbour and did not want to risk losing it as we had spoken to a number of other sailors who said they had been trying to get a berth but with no success.    I was ready to leave Gran Canaria for the next adventure, but saying goodbye to Bea and Andy was much harder although there was a chance they may join us at the next island if all went well.

Tenerife – The power of beauty

We left Lanzarote with a forecast of 15-20 knot winds and hoisted the sails with one reef in the main, even though the winds were well within our range to have full sails up.   Each of the islands has a well documented acceleration zone where the winds can increase by up to 15knots, so can make a pleasant sail very uncomfortable, very quickly!   We always try to take the cautious route and Cerulean still goes well with shortened sails.  

As we made our way south and out of the shadow of the land, the wind increased during the afternoon and we steamed along at 7-8 knots with Hilda, the hydrovane, doing a fantastic job, keeping us on course and moving nicely with both jibs out.   The night passed quickly with excellent sailing under clear skies and a bright moon lighting the seas around us.  At 4am the wind had dropped and we slowed down to below 5knots of speed, so the reef was shaken out and we continued at a comfortable rate.   As we approached the shipping lanes at the top the north east corner of Tenerife, traffic increased but we easily slipped through a hole between two large cargo ships, calling one on the VHF radio to let him know our intentions.   We were amazed to see the huge amount of light pollution from Gran Canaria when we passed to the north of the island, which glowed from miles away.   As the sun came up we were close to land and enjoyed a lovely sail hugging the coastline as we watched the landscape and terrain on Tenerife unfold infront of us.  

Tenerife is shaped like a triangle and is the largest island in the Canaries with a population just short of 1 million.  Santa Cruz is the island capital, as well as the shared capital of The Canaries, and the large city could be seen from far away.  One of its claims to fame is being the location where Nelson lost his arm during a failed attempt to take the city by storm in 1792.

The entrance to the harbour and marina is marked by a striking modern entertainment complex, Auditorio de Tenerife which some say resembles the Sydney Opera House – it is white, with a curved roof and has an acoustic auditorium but, in my humble opinion, this is where the similarities stop!

As we approached the entrance we radioed the harbourmaster on ch12 and requested permission to pass through the port to the marina.   They answered immediately and allowed us to proceed while we attempted to radio the marina on ch09.   After numerous failed attempts to get a response, we entered the marina and waited along with a French boat, not knowing where we had been allocated a berth or what side to put the fenders and mooring lines.   Eventually we saw two men waving, directing us to a very narrow berth next to a large and expensive looking yacht with the owner on board.   By this time it was about 2pm and the afternoon breeze had kicked in, producing strong gusts that were 90 degrees to the direction of the berth.   I started to steer down the channel leading to our allocated spot an, the owner of the boat we were to be moored next to, looking on with more than a casual interest. As we started to turn into the berth a strong gust of wind hit us and caught the back of the boat, pushing us past the berth and in danger of pinning us up against other boats, so I decided to bail.  With much confusion and more handwaving from the marineros (marina boat handlers), I ignored all the shouting and reversed out of the channel, back into the safety of the large entrance, insisting they find us an alternative berth with more room.   Fortunately they did and we happily settled into it feeling satisfied with our decision, particularly when we discovered later that several other boats had refused the first berth offered them too as the space was too narrow for their boat and they were silently applauding as they watched us reverse out and demand another place!

While in Graciosa we had received a phone call from the people we had bought the batteries from.   The price of the batteries included free delivery anywhere in the Canaries and they had agreed to deliver them to the marina, which was only about 30 minutes drive from their office, so a good deal for them!   I had insisted that we needed them on Monday, when we arrived in the marina, as Iain from Ruffian had kindly agreed to help remove and fit the new ones on Tuesday and we had arranged to hire a car with Ruffian on Wednesday so we could tour the island.   During the phone conversation a few days prior, it transpired that Tuesday was a public holiday and the delivery driver informed me he was taking Monday and Tuesday off, so asked whether they could deliver on Wednesday instead.   After a lot of confusion that involved us accosting a waiter to ask for help translating, it was agreed the batteries would be delivered on Sunday, or at least that’s what I understood.  We arrived at the marina on Monday, fully expecting the batteries to be waiting for us.  No sign of them.    The very helpful team in the marina office rang the battery company who informed us they would be delivered on Wednesday.   I was not happy and insisted they deliver them now or tomorrow morning, as agreed.   After a lot of discussion they agreed to deliver them on Tuesday and we left the office, not 100% confident with the outcome! 

Steve set to work removing the old batteries – not an easy task as they were squeezed into the most inaccessible places and each battery weighed 65kg.   It was hot, heavy, slow and frustrating work and Steve worked tirelessly.   On Tuesday, much to our relief and (if I’m honest) surprise, the batteries arrived as promised and were heaved onto the boat, one by one.   Iain from Ruffian, came and worked with Steve lifting the old batteries out of the boat and the new ones in while Fi and I went in search of groceries and other essential supplies. While searching for a pressure cooker in a large department store, we had a giggle when we noticed the big store directory at the entrance listing what was on each floor of this enormous shop (see photo).

The next day, with the battery installation complete, Fi and Iain travelled to the airport to collect the car we had hired for two days, while Steve and I headed to a medical centre to have our yellow fever and tetanus jabs in preparation for our planned sail to Gambia.   With perfect timing, we met Iain and Fi outside the doctors after being jabbed and headed to the hills.   Iain had prepared a full list of POI’s (points of interest) and we had added a few places we were keen to visit too.    Off we went, full of excitement and merriment, glad to be sharing a car and adventures with team Ruffian again.  

First we drove to Mount Teide, the highest point in Spain and in the Atlantic islands, at 3,715m.  We negotiate crazy windy roads with shear drops on one side as deep green valleys unfolded in front of us, the roads taking us through low cloud.  The views were spectacular as the road meandered around steep hills with jaw-dropping lush cliffs plummeting to wide valleys and deep gorges.  

Over the two days we explored the whole of the island, watching the sunrise at two stunning locations one involving a long walk up a steep, rocky path which Steve negotiated in his trusty jandels again, enjoying a picnic breakfast as we watched the sun rise over the sea.   

A real highlight for me was, not only stunning vistas from the many miradors (viewing points) but spending a wonderful afternoon exploring the old capital, La Laguna.   The old town is where the islands university is located and is made up of beautiful 15th century churches, monasteries and houses lining cobbled streets and I loved wandering the lanes discovering buildings and squares with old Dragon trees growing.   Dragon trees are a symbol of Tenerife and are recognisable by their large trunk which divides into numerous branches that twist skywards with spiky evergreen foliage at the top of the tree.   Sometimes, as I wander around towns, I wonder what it would be like to spend six months living there and immersing myself in the culture.   This was a place I love to call home for a while – rent an old house, regularly visit a local cafe, play dominos in one of the squares, visit the local bakers each morning and talk to the locals, dreaming of life on a sailboat!!  It had character, history, was not too touristy and was in a beautiful location, surrounded on three sides by high mountains.

It was another memorable, full and fun road trip of discovery with team Ruffian.  Iain masterly negotiated the twisty, narrow steep roads and we loved being part of a shared adventure with them again, discovering another truly beautiful island.

After five days in the marina, stocked up with fresh fruit and vegetable from the fabulous Mercado de Nuestra Senora de Africa (mercado = market) we said farewell to new friends (Peter Lawless on Waxwing – Irish single handed sailor – who donated us a wedge of excellent Irish cheese and butter – and Robin on Zilveren Maan, who sympathised with Steve for having such a loud, talkative partner!) and headed to an anchorage in the north of the island called Bahia de Anteguera.  It was a lovely anchorage protected by high cliffs and clear waters which we immediately dived into to clean the bottom of Cerulean again.  In fact she was surprisingly clean, and the water was surprisingly warm so we enjoyed cooling off from the 27 degree heat in the beautiful surround.    We had anchored behind another NZ boat called Tokomaru Bay and we went over to meet the owner, Hamish, a single handed sailor who was retracing his great grandfather’s journey to NZ in the late 1800’s, written about in a journal he had found.  His 65ft yacht was stunning with sleek lines and spacious accommodation which will be quite different to the boat his ancestor sailed!

Our intention had been to sail to the other side of the island but on checking the weather forecast, we made a quick change in plans and altered course to Gran Canaria, the third largest of the Canary Islands and where we had been invited to a party with other long distance sailors as well as meet my sister who was flying out to join another boat to cross the Atlantic.   It was a 46NM sail to the protected south of the island and with Ruffian nipping at our heels, it was time to see whether Cerulean could out pace them for a change, in conditions that were perfect for us!  We were sad to leave Tenerife, where I could have happily spent another few weeks exploring. We loved the distinct characters of the island – the old cities on the east side, the rugged, mountains and valleys in the centre, dramatic cliffs to the south and lush fruit growing areas in the west. To us, Tenerife had it all and we left with great memories of a special time exploring.

Lanzarote – black, white and everything inbetween

In the mid 1960’s an artist named Cesar Manrique foresaw the damage tourism could cause to his beloved island home.   His influence on the architect is still apparent with low level, white buildings dominating the black landscape, creating a dramatic, beautiful and very unusual environment.

Our days exploring Madeira will remain a vivid and unexpectantly wonderful memory but the wind gods were talking and we had to listen!   Madeira quickly disappeared from sight as we made our way south east and we were once again alone in the ocean with our buddy boat, Andrew and Traci on Walkabout, for company, visible on AIS and a comforting masthead light in the distance at night.   Walkabout is a bigger, newer, lighter and faster boat than us so, with winds of between 10 – 15knots they were soon eight miles ahead as we ploughed through the building seas that they seemed to glide over!   As night fell, we reefed the main and prepared for the forecast increased winds.   Cerulean came alive as the winds increased to 20knots and we made great speed, shortening the distance between us and Walkabout.  The wind was coming on our side, which is the perfect point of sail for us but the hydrovane was struggling to keep us on course.  Normally it would not be a problem to let her wander off a little but if we didn’t adjust we would have been too far north of Lanzarote, so we decided to hand steer for most of the passage.  

When I woke to take the watch at 3am, Steve had put another reef in the main as our speed hit over 10knots.  I was so proud of him, doing it on his own and keeping the boat safe and on course.   He has learned so much and is getting more confident in his decision-making and abilities.   We had calculated our passage speed at an average of 6knots, which is why we left at 11am the day before, to ensure we would not arrive in the dark.   Our average speed was over 7knots on this passage and we broke a new 24hour personal record, covering 157 nautical miles in 24hrs.   We approached the southern side of Lanzarote with Walkabout beside us.  They had completed most of the passage on jib only as the winds increased and with the knowledge that winds can accelerate considerably close to Lanzarote, we took the main sail down and proceeded under a reefed staysail only and we were still making over 5knots of speed!   It was with relief and a small sigh of satisfaction, that we anchored at Playa Blanco, outside Rubicon Marina on the south side of Lanzarote which is protected from the Atlantic swell.   We slept for a few hours before moving into the marina where we had booked a berth for a few nights – our first stay in a marina for over 90 days.

We soon settled into the relaxed and sociable environment at the marina which was full of boats from all over the world, most of whom where heading across The Atlantic.  We were all drawn together by a common dream of sailing across oceans, and we shared the trait that we had all taken risks and were open to new adventures.   Friendships between cruisers are made quickly and are either fleeting or last a lifetime.  We met some lovely people and shared drinks, food and time with a number of wonderful folk that we certainly hope will not be fleeting acquaintances with the intent to see them again in another part of the World. 

On board, we have four 220AH “service” batteries that are separate from our engine starter batteries.   The Service batteries provide power for our electronics, lights, electric sockets and other equipment.   Our solar panels charge up the batteries during the daytime, but we need to monitor how much we use and how well the panels are performing to make sure the batteries are fully charged each day to remain healthy.   We had noticed a significant change in how our batteries were performing and we were having problems getting them to fully charge each day.   As we had been monitoring them carefully, we saw there was a potential problem so while in the marina on shore power we were able to run some tests and establish what, if anything, we could do to rectify the issue.   We discovered that one of our batteries had died and, in normal circumstances the obvious solution would be to just replace the dead battery.   However, this is a boat and, because it is considered very bad practice to have batteries of different ages and also because we are a 24V boat so have two 12V batteries linked together, we decided we should bite the bullet and replace all four batteries.  The other problem was the only place that could source the batteries we wanted was in Tenerife so we arranged for the batteries to be delivered to a marina in Santa Cruz (the capital of Tenerife) and booked a space in the marina. 

Our second mission was to fill our butane gas bottles as we were getting very low on gas, which we use for cooking.   We learned of a place in Arrecife, about 40km north, which filled bottles and, as there were no cars available, hired a motorbike for a few days.   We knew the gas refill place closed early so we were not able to get there in time, but decided to head towards Arrecife and check out some other possible suppliers.   We must have looked a funny sight, two 6ft foreigners on a 125CC motorbike, knees almost on our chests, going full throttle in second gear up the steep hills and still only making 30KPH!   Once out of the marina the full barren landscape of the island became visible as we rode through the most incredible moonscape environment.   Black earth had been planted with vines which were dug into a hole and half surrounded by a wall made from volcanic rocks to protect them from the prevailing, drying winds.  Often, as far as you could see, there were fields of these vines, the landscape only broken by a white single storey building with an orange roof.   Where vines didn’t grow, cactus did and huge specimens were on show beside the road.   I was transfixed by the landscape.  It was hard to comprehend what we were looking at sometimes as it was such a foreign sight.   

Cesar Manrique was a celebrated local artist who also studied architecture in the 1960’s and his influence on the island is still very apparent today. Wanting to preserve the unique nature of the island, he somehow managed to convince the local council to write a condition in their planning regulations to encourage sustainable development and this is still recognised today with the lack of high-rise hotels and all buildings painted white.  Set against the black soil, villages nestled in valleys make an impressive landscape of contrast with the volcanic hills and black terrain as a backdrop.

We arrived in Arrecife, the capital of Lanzarote, and managed to exchange one of our small empty campingaz cylinders for a full one.  At least we now had enough gas for another month.  As we could only carry one cylinder on the motorbike, we felt relieved we had fulfilled this part of our challenge.   We headed back to the motorbike to find we had a flat tyre which may have explained the slightly wobbly journey there!  

Next day, armed with a new motorbike, we returned to Arrecife, this time with two of our larger empty butane gas bottles (one on my back and one in the storage box), hoping to get them filled at a gas distribution unit we had been told was the only place on the island, and one of only two places in The Canaries, that would fill empty bottles.   We negotiated the busy roads with me sitting on the back, clinging hold of Steve with one hand and the phone in the other, shouting directions as we were buffeted by the strong winds.   Our elation of finding the refill station was short-lived when we were firmly told they would not fill our bottles, but the reason for this was lost in gesticulating arms and language barrier.   Feeling disheartened we headed to the marina where we met Ruffian as they arrived in Arrecife.   Iain swapped places with me and, with him holding their empty gas cylinder, Steve returned to the refill station.   It was with surprise, pleasure for them, and (if I’m honest) a little envy, that they came back with a full gas bottle!    Still unsure why ours were not able to be filled, we left Ruffian with their full supply of gas and headed to the hills.    We drove back to the boat through the volcanic centre of the island, stopping regularly to take in the vast views set against deep blue skies.   I loved it.

After extending our stay in the marina a few times and saying goodbye to Andrew and Traci on Walkabout, we filled our fuel tank and headed out.   We motored into the wind to Playa Quemada, a short distance to the north and dropped the anchor in front of a small black sand beach which was only reachable via a steep long path.   We sat on deck watching the people on the beach, watching us as we bounced around in the exposed anchorage.   

The next day we motor-sailed into the wind, heading north and then rounding the top of Lanzarote.  Our destination was Graciosa, a small island to the west of Lanzarote with no roads, a few hundred residents, four volcanoes and lots of sand!   We had managed to get a permit to visit the island and stay for a few nights, although it appeared we were the only boat that had bothered to get permission and no-one came to check.   Ruffian had already arrived and I joined Iain for a late afternoon walk which started with the intention of climbing one of the volcanoes but ended in a short walk to the nearest pub!  

The next morning the four of us headed out, this time better prepared and more determined to reach the top of the volcano.   The climb was worth it and we were rewarded with wonderful views across to Lanzarote and over to the west of Graciosa.   We walked around the sunken crater of the volcano before heading back down the hill to find a good watering hole! 

After three days exploring it was time to leave and farewell Lanzarote.   The wind and weather looked ideal for the 160 NM sail to Tenerife and we were ready for another overnight passage to meet our new batteries which we had arranged to have delivered to the marina…… or so we thought!

Mad Madeira

Madeira lies approx 500NM from the Portuguese mainland and is an oasis of beauty with majestic scenery and fertile soils that produce exotic fruit that provides the backbone of the islands economy.

The Madeira archeipelago is made up of four islands of which Madeira is the largest measuring approx 60 x 20km.   Unlike Porto Santo, Madeira is green, fertile with high mountains and a total population of around 250k, mostly living around the rugged exterior of the island.  

After spending an unpleasant rolly night in a beautiful anchorage on the exposed easterly end of the island, we sailed under jib only with our friends, Fiona and Iain on Ruffian for company, towards the capital, Funchal.   It soon became apparent that the one thing Madeira seems to lack is flat land.   High cliffs plummet into the deep sea, mountains rise and fall sharply and houses cling to the green hillsides.   Engineers seem to have had a field day with a labyrinth of bridges, tunnels, cable cars and an incredible airport.   The runway is built on high stilts over the sea with the roaring Atlantic on one side and a large range of mountains on the other.  If the wind is not blowing in from the Atlantic, it is funnelling down the steep hills on the other side.  It is one of the most challenging runways in the world and only pilots who have passed special training are allowed to land here.   Windy days are especially difficult, and pilots are only given three attempts to land before having to return to the mainland.    There is a popular boatyard that provides storage for yachts under the 40m high runway and it was an odd sight as we sailed past the airport, seeing the boats with masts up sitting underneath as a large aircraft taxied down the tarmac.

We found an exposed, but slightly more protected anchorage than the previous night, a little further west than Funchal, called Camara de Lobos.   We anchored under dramatic red coloured cliffs that rose over 500m in an almost straight line with a crazy cable car slowly edging its way to the top.   As Iain stated while we were having drinks on their boat, “That’s mad!” and this coin of phrase was used a lot as we got to see more of Madeira.   In fact the cliffs we were anchored under are the highest in Europe and third highest in the World and the glass floored viewing platform at the top made for spectacular vistas – and as we proved, you have to be mad to want to stand on a glass bottomed viewing platform over 500m above a sheer drop to crashing waves!

Camara de Lobos was easy for us to get into, leaving the dinghy in the small harbour after winding our way through several small colourful fishing boats.   It proved to be an ideal base for us to explore the island and the town was lovely with houses perched on the rocky cliffs surrounding the harbour and lots of colourful art installations made from recycled rubbish decorating the streets and shops.   In fact, the bay was known as Churchill Bay because Winston Churchill had holidayed there once, obviously drawing inspiration from the beautiful surrounds as he spent his time painting! 

Banana plantations were on every patch of ground or garden on the lower side of the hills, that had been terraced with stone walls and levadas – stone irrigation and drainage channels.   Levadas are used to bring the water from the high mountains and feed the fertile soils of the lower slopes.   They were built in the 1700’s by slaves from East Africa and are the reason Madeira is not only green, but prospering from growing every type of tropical fruit imaginable. 

Funchal is a sprawling city with houses creeping up the steep hills.  A maze of bridges and tunnels provide a fast road system, linking the capital to the rest of this fertile island.   As we wound our way up the hills, the crops changed from bananas to vineyards, Papaya and Mango orchards and vegetables as every use was made of growing food in the rich volcanic soils.  We took a cable car to the top of a hill behind the city which slowly climbed above residential areas and gave panoramic views across the area.  Near the top on an adjoining hill, is the impressive football stadium where I like to imagine Madeira’s favourite son, Christiana Ronaldo, has played – he certainly has a huge influence and investment in the area.  Sadly we chose a Sunday to go up to the top which is the one day the famous wicker sledge rides do not run.   The sleighs are operated by two men who wear wooden soled shoes as they guide the sledge down the very narrow and steep hills – mad!   Instead of taking the ride we ended up helping a local guy jump start his van by pushing him to the top of the hill so he could free-wheel down it – that was scary enough!

We booked a guided walking tour which took us inland to the north of the island.   After an hour travelling through the countryside, we arrived at a forest and treked along a levada, following the stone “river” to it’s source.  The levada was teaming with life, including trout of various sizes, living happily in the clean water. We walked through beautiful rain forest following the edge of steep cliffs, as the levada occasionally led us through hard stone as we walked through low tunnels and took in the most incredible scenery.    Mountains looked like they had been drawn by a child with steep sides and rounded tops, all covered in trees for as far as the eye could see with deep gullies separating each mountain.  Our 12km journey ended at a beautiful waterfall which cascaded down high cliffs into a deep pool which then fed the levada we had been following.  

In the late afternoons we cleaned ourselves and the boat in the deep, clear waters, scrubbing weeks of growth off Cerulean’s bottom.   We had picked up a few stowaways in the shape of long white worm-like creatures that were firmly stuck to the hull and it took a good deal of encouraging to remove them.  After spending time scrubbing we returned to the deck in time for 8pm sundowners where we had front row seats watching the sun slowly sink over the sea.   We really did feel like we had found our heaven!

Many years ago I shared a house in Cambridge with three amazing women, one being Barbara whose wedding I went to 35 years ago when she married Keith!   Coincidentally, Barbara and Keith had booked a holiday in Madeira and were arriving about a week after us.   We arranged to spend a day together on the Tuesday after their evening arrival the night prior but on looking at the weather forecast and seeing some strong winds coming, we decided to change plans and suggested we met for breakfast so we could leave at mid-day on the Tuesday.    As the day of their arrival drew closer the weather system was predicted to arrive earlier and our exposed anchorage would become unsafe and untenable in strong winds.    All the marinas were full as September/October is peak season for yachties getting ready to cross the Atlantic and we needed at least two good days to get to our next destination.  We were in touch with another boat, Walkabout, who we had very briefly met in Porto Santo and were heading in the same direction as us.    After much deliberation and talking to Walkabout, we decided we had to take the weather window on Monday otherwise we could be putting ourselves and home in, at best an unpleasant situation and, at worst, a dangerous one.   I reluctantly contacted Barbara and let her know we would miss them by just a few hours as we had to leave for The Canaries while we could.    She was very understanding and, a few days later, let me know that big winds did arrive and, in fact several aircraft were not able to land, which validated our decision to leave when we did.

With Traci and Andrew on Walkabout beside us, we pulled up the anchor at 11am and slowly sailed away from Madeira to start a 270 Nautical Mile passage to Lanzarote in The Canaries, trying to keep ahead of the fast moving weather system.   We sadly bade farewell to Madeira – the most beautiful, fertile and memorable island which filled us with wonder at every turn. It was time to see what other adventures and wonders lay ahead of us, and we didn’t have to wait long to find out!

Porto Santo – our first taste of island life

Before starting our passage to Madeira we had to complete a few checks and procedures.  These included registering with MadeiraSafe and sending copies of our vaccine certificates for approval prior to departing the Mainland.    Once we received an email confirming our certificates were approved, we then had to notify Porto Santo marina the date we were expecting to arrive, even though it was only our intention to anchor in the harbour.

After spending a day recovering from our crossing and tidying up the boat, we went ashore and checked in with the marina and GNR (Police).   The check-in process requires us to show a number of papers, including proof of ownership, insurance and our passports.  Everything went smoothly, with our only slight concern being that if Madeira chose not to recognise the NZ agreement of 90 days in each Schengen country instead of 90 days in every country, we had infact overstayed our visa.   Fortunately this was not even looked at and after 30 minutes we left the offices fully checked in and ready to explore.

Porto Santo was an unhabituated island when it was discovered by the Portuguese in the 13 Century during an exploratory trip to Africa, when the ship was blown off course during a storm.   It was quickly colonised and named “Holy Port” before continuing on to the larger, greener, more mountainous island to the SW.   The only sandy beach in Madeira is on Porto Santo and it’s a beautiful, long undeveloped stretch of paradise. A ferry arrives every day from Madeira bringing visitors and being the essential link between the two islands for food, supplies, fuel and mail. Very little is grown on the island as the rainfall is much less than Madeira and the topsoil is thin.

There are about 5,000 people who live permanently on Porto Santo, mostly employed in tourism or hospitality, but there is also a very interesting biotech company called Buggypower with a large investment in infrastructure on the island.   Buggypower grows marine organisms that are the foundation of life in the seas.   These organisms have huge nutritional benefits as well as being the start of the marine food chain and producing oxygen.   Buggypower have developed a way to grow these organisms in large vertical tanks, which are being used in pharmaceutical, food and animal feed products.   The company requires clean seawater to grow the organisms, hence the appeal of the crystal clear waters around this small Atlantic island.

Porto Santo is only 11km long and 6km wide but has a diverse topography with steep, barren hills to the north, long sandy beach to the SE and dramatic cliffs to the West.  Formed by an undersea volcano 18 million years ago the island has lots of amazing geological features on display from the stripey cliffs of sedimentary rocks, exposed veins showing the flow of the lava, the sharp rim of the crater to the dramatic basalt pillars that tower high above the island.  

We hired a car with Fi and Iain, making good use of Iain’s impeccable research as we wove our way around Porto Santo enjoying the spectacular views, incredible rock formations, great company and lots of entertainment along the way.   We walked, climbed, drove, scrambled, swam and explored every 42sqkm of the island, finishing the day with a refreshing dip in our own private small sandy cove, with high cliffs as a backdrop to the crashing surf which washed us back onto the soft sand. 

A highlight for me were the Basalt pillars located high above the main town, Vila Baleira.  The columns are hardened lava, formed into geometric shapes as the volcanic rock cools.   It felt like we were on a film set of a prehistoric movie, as the columns towered above, and all around us.   Add to that the remoteness, emptiness and silence of the surrounding area and you may understand how special the experience was.

The next morning we arranged to drive out to a small beach and watch the sunrise together.  In September it is still dark at 7am, so we didn’t have to wake too early to beat the sun, so after packing a picnic breakfast of fresh fruit and hot drinks, we set out to greet the day.   As we drove the light started to break through the dark sky and rabbits scuttled out of our headlights – another country with a disastrous introduction of these pests that are now out of control.   We watched buzzards and falcons soaring, looking for prey (hopefully a rabbit); groups of plovers running along the verge; a hoopoe with its orange crest raised on its head and distinctive black and white patterned wings; swifts darting across the sky – it was definitely the right time for the birds, before the morning started to heat up.   Our intention was to go for a morning swim as the sun came up, but we all soon changed our minds as we huddled on the exposed stony beach, watching a rain shower pass to the north and the first rays of the sun poke through the low clouds.   We talked, drank our hot drinks and ate breakfast together as the sky slowly grew lighter and the golden sun shone through as we watched a yacht slowly making its way towards the island.    It was a perfect way to end our 24hr car hire experience in great company and feeling so grateful for the day just gone and the one dawning.

Later that day we started talking to a man working on his large yacht in the boatyard.   The man, Miguel, invited us to look around his boat named Utopia, and it transpired his boat project had been a labour of love for the last 13 years.   He had bought a boat with a great hull, but everything else had been replaced – all made, built and designed by him.  The boat was stunning.   He had designed things that are not normally found on yachts – a hidden cockpit table that cleverly pulls out and unfolds so you can have a small comfortable place to eat breakfast, a window behind the companionway steps so the whole engine is visible and easy to monitor, a dome window above the navigation station with excellent 360 degree view of boat and surrounds during bad weather, locking floorboards which could be turned over to provide a different flooring if more grip was required and, the piece de resistance – three taps in the centre of the large saloon table.  When I asked him what they were for, Miguel grinned and said, “water, whiskey and wine”  He had two extra tanks so thought it would be a good use of space!!   It was inspirational to talk to Miguel about his 13 year journey and plans to sail Utopia in the Polars.   He had a sharp wit, incredible knowledge, amazing talent and a gentle personality.   We came away feeling humbled and privileged to have met him.

The marina wall at Porto Santo is decorated with the names of yachts who have made the journey, so we spent time adding our design to the many that have come before us.   It was a fun, social occasion as fellow sailors and visitors stopped to talk and ask questions.    We only spotted one other NZ boat on the wall, so proudly added a piece of kiwi-ness to these windswept shores!

The number of yachts arriving in Porto Santo was increasing dramatically as the “Atlantic Crossing” season approached.   The small protected harbour was full and over 20 yachts were anchored off the beach, so we decided it was time to get moving.   We checked out of Porto Santo, paying the 7 Euros per night for our stay (great value as normally this includes free showers and laundry, but we didn’t avail ourselves of either while there as the showers were being refurbished and we were always too late for the laundry!) and headed out in a good NE wind, following Ruffian who had left a couple of hours earlier.    We could see the outline of Madeira’s high mountains ahead of us as we made good speed towards our next adventure.

Swapping Mainland Europe for Island Life

I’ve already mentioned the enjoyable social side of sailing, often repeatedly meeting up with fellow sailors in different locations, but there is also a huge selection of very good social media sites dedicated to sailing and, as Steve will confirmed with a huge sigh, I am an active member of most of them!   Through these groups we have been fortunate enough to meet some inspirational and lovely people, including Fi and Iain who we met up with in Culatra and then again in Portimao before leaving mainland Portugal with them to sail under the same skies to Madeira.

I had also been in contact with an Australian guy, Mark, who was heading to Madeira at the same time, but leaving from Lisbon.   We were in touch several times to organise daily radio checks, discuss weather windows as well as touching on the recent spate of Orca attacks and sharing advice.   Mark let me know he was leaving Lisbon 12hrs before we were due to leave Portimao so we should be arriving in Porto Santo at around the same time.  

The number of Orca attacks has intensified recently with four boats being involved in incidents close to Lagos and Portimao in one day.  These attacks usually resulted in the boats rudder being bitten off or partially broken while the yacht is spun around by a group of orcas.   The reason for these attacks is unclear, with whales only targeting sailing boats in a frightening display of force and violence.   There are two active pods of orca who are involved in this behaviour, which first started in early summer 2020.   Since then there have been over 100 incidents off the coast of Portugal and Spain, with so many in The Straits of Gibraltar that a restriction zone was created to encourage boats to stay close to the shore when passing through the area.  

We left Portimao with Fi and Iain on Ruffian, the two boats cutting through the still, flat seas as we headed SW towards a bank of fog.   I made use of the last of our internet to check on Mark’s progress from Lisbon and was surprised to see it looked as if he was making very slow progress East close to Sines, instead of a SW course to Madeira.   I sent him a message as we continued motoring in no wind with Ruffian a short distance behind us.   The fog thickened and we lost sight of Ruffian through the thick, damp mist.   Suddenly there was a break in the fog and we noticed a large school of fish jumping out the flat water beside us, skimming along the surface.  My heart went in my mouth as I realised this meant one thing – they were being chased.   My first thought was Orcas – I had a minds eye of a cartoon whale with a nasty grin and big teeth looking at me with a, “Here’s Johnny” evil look in it’s eye!   Fortunately, when the fins broke the water it was a large pod of dolphins which greeted us, so it was with relief that I radioed Ruffian to let them know about the dolphins.   Iain said he had seen something behind us and was also very worried but had heard there had been another Orca attack near Sines this morning.   My heart dropped as Iain proceeded to tell me it was an Australian boat that had been damaged.   When I told him the name of Mark’s boat, he confirmed that was the one involved.   I felt terrible for Mark who was now trying to get to Lagos with a broken rudder.   We later discovered his rudder had been completely removed by the Orca, and in a message to us describing the 2 hour attack in darkness at 2am, with one very large whale and several smaller ones playing with the boat, sounded like the most frightening thing you can imagine.

As the fog lifted the wind increased enough for us to sail and, with Hilda the Hydrovane set we settled into a relaxed routine on board.   The wind was very light and Cerulean felt like an old heavy bus, not performing as well as we had grown used to.   After a frustrating couple of hours Steve and I agreed that, if the light winds continued as forecast, we needed to evaluate whether it was worth continuing to Madeira as something was obviously amiss and maybe we should consider turning around.    We radioed Ruffian who were well ahead of us.   Iain suggested we take his GoPro and look under the boat, so we turned on the motor and caught up with them, catching the GoPro in a throwbag they hurled across to us.   Hero Steve, attached to a line, jumped into the deep, still waters and pointed the camera under the boat to try and understand why we were making such slow progress.   Fortunately he could not see anything tangled around the keel but there was plenty of furry growth on Cerulean’s bottom from weeks of inactivity on anchor.   We decided to keep going and deal with her dirty bottom once we arrived in Madeira.   It was the right decision.  

We crossed the busy shipping lane that is the main thoroughfare for ships entering and leaving the Mediterranean, finding a perfect gap in the traffic for us to slide through, avoiding a tug pulling a large oil rig (we had a discussion on what lights would have been displayed, if we’d seen it at night!).   The wind increased and we enjoyed some lovely sailing in flat, calm seas for two days.

At 3am early in the morning of day three, we turned the engine on as we were wallowing in no wind making 2knots with sails flapping.   This followed a glorious day where we had flown the cruising chute with Hilda steering beautifully throughout the day.

We saw very little wildlife during the passage – a few dolphins, a shark and, on day three we were joined by a little bird that hitched a ride with us for a while.   It’s funny because the same thing happened when we crossed the Bay of Biscay.    

My mum was a keen birdwatcher.   She had a bird table in front of the dining room window and she took huge pleasure watching the many and varied birds that visited the well-stocked bird feeder.   When mum was bed-ridden we put her bed beside the window so she could still see the birds and, when she passed away, we had the window open.   A little bird came and sat on the windowsill and looked in at us all standing around mum’s bed, trying to come to terms with what had just happened.   The bird sat for some time observing the scene and my sister, Judy and I took comfort in thinking this was mum looking in on us.    When the bird came to the boat and found its way inside the cabin, three times (even when we put netting across the entrance way), it allowed me to pick it up and take it outside each time.    When it flew away, it did a circuit of the boat, returned and landed on my head, before eventually leaving us for good.     I took comfort thinking of mum and knowing how much she would approve of this adventure we are on.

All day on day three we motored.  We took advantage of the engine being on and made fresh water so enjoyed showers.  As we headed further south, the temperatures increased and even wearing clothes was too much during the day!    At night we made up a bed in the forward cabin and took three hour shifts sharing the sleeping while the other stayed on lookout in the cockpit under the huge moonless sky of stars.   At one point we were both in the saloon, talking while the autopilot steered us towards Porto Santo.  The large chartplotter was in between the two of us as we sat either side of the chart table chatting.   At some point I decided to adjust the autopilot course and picked up the (seldom used) remote control unit, adjusting our direction by just a couple of clicks to port.   As I had turned it on to make this adjustment, I then turned the remote off again and continued our discussion.   About ten minutes later I looked at the chartplotter and saw with dismay that we were tracking in completely the wrong direction.  I rushed on deck and realised that, instead of turning off the remote control, I had turned off the autopilot and we had been doing circles for the last ten minutes!      Later that evening we had a catch up with Ruffian on the radio and, just as we were finishing, Iain commented on the two circles we had performed earlier.   I hung my head in shame – even when 200 miles from land, there is no hiding from stupid mistakes!

Steve decided to have a haircut while we had no wind.   He powered up his electric razor and proceeded to give himself a number 2 while hanging over the transom.    When he had completed the front he asked for help as he could not reach the back of his head.   By the time I joined in the fun he had a perfect Mullet which, after much hilarity and threats if photos being taken, I set about trying to complete the coiffeur.  Sadly, I am no hairdresser and just mastering how to use the razor properly proved a long and tedious task which resulted in me shaving Steve’s hair above his right ear, clean off!    First I was mortified when I saw I had given him half a Mohawk, quickly followed by me dissolving into fits of laughter which was not matched by a pissed off looking Steve!     Needless to say, he took the razor from me, vowing never to let me near it again and not allowing any photographic evidence of the event!

By the evening of day three the wind had started to pick up, all be it from the wrong direction, so we decided to turn off the engine and start tacking into the wind.   The peace and quiet after hours of hearing the motor was a huge relief and we made reasonable progress for a while, giving ourselves targets and rewards when those milestones were reached.    Our aim was to get within 50 miles of land and then, if the wind was still on the nose we would motorsail again.    With about 70 miles to go we noticed a big flash on the horizon.   Lightening.    Lightening fills all sailors with dread.   Being a singular metal pole in the middle of an ocean is similar to walking down the middle of a busy motorway and hoping not to be run over!    As the lightening intensified and moved towards us, we put all our electrics into the microwave to protect them and turned off as many electrical items as possible.   With sheet lightening flashing all around us we continued sailing with a reef in the main and smaller jib only.   The boat was not performing well and I was getting really frustrated as I tried to work out why she wasn’t responding in the way we have become used to.   The sails were trimmed, but Cerulean felt like she had a handbrake on still.  

Eventually the storm passed and, with the high volcanic peaks of Porto Santo in sight and only 20 miles left, we turned on the engine.   The sea was rough with wind against us, blowing upto 28knots, so progress was slow!    We were both tired, were not enjoying this last part of the passage, had not eaten properly as trying to prepare food while the boat is being lurched from side to side is not easy and we were hot and dirty after two days of heat and no showers!     To say it was a relief to round the tall, rugged Ilheu de Cima and see the small town of Vila Baleira with its long sandy beach, was an understatement!   We turned into the protected harbour and dropped our anchor next to Ruffian.  Tall barren, rugged mountains formed a backdrop to the small marina and it was with huge relief and a sense of achievement that we turned off the engine, made a decent meal and collapsed into bed for a much needed, long and peaceful nights sleep after a four and a half day passage covering 522 miles!