Category: Atlantic Islands

Colourful Curacao

We pulled out of Bonaire mooring field, waving goodbye to friends in the warm morning sunlight.   Zen Again had left already and we could see the fading triangle of their sail as they headed towards a large bank of cloud on the horizon.   After a year of island hopping on both sides of the Atlantic, we were now heading to explore our final island nation in the Caribbean.

We quickly set our sails and turned off the engine as we picked up speed on a nice reach, heading south west as we edged passed Klein Bonaire and gave a mental wave goodbye to the fabulous snorkelling and underwater paradise that is hidden below the shallow blue waters.  To avoid using the steering as much as possible, due to our failing bearing which had caused our wheel to jam a day earlier, we set up Hilda the Hydrovane so we could lock off the wheel.

We were only about five miles out when lightning and thunder started crashing in front of us and, on looking at the radar, it was clear we were not going to avoid it if we continued on the same course.   Zen Again had already gybed to avoid the heavy black cloud that loomed ahead and we followed suit, heading north west to try and get infront of the storm clouds and avoid the bolts of lightning that lit up the mid-morning darkness.    When we were about halfway between Bonaire and Curacao on our 40NM journey, we gybed again as the clouds disappeared and we made good speed to our destination on the south west coast of the island.   Zen Again were not far behind us as we turned into the narrow entrance leading to Spanish Waters, a protected area of bays offering excellent shelter in several different bays in a relatively quiet setting. 

We anchored in the western most area and shared a celebratory sundowner with Zen Again who anchored next to us.   We had arrived on Independence Day – 10/ 10 (10 October) the day that Curacao became a nation inside the Dutch Kingdom in 2010 when the Dutch Antilles were dissolved after a referendum.   Everything was shut so we didn’t attempt to navigate the 7kms into the capital, Willemstad, to check in, but decided to wait until the next day.  

Early the next morning we set out to start the process of checking in by first finding the immigration office which was well tucked away in a small non-descript building with a temporary looking sign on the door giving the only clue what was inside.   We were processed quite quickly and then walked into the town of Willemstad to complete the customs clearance, crossing the long floating swingbridge that opens on request for all traffic going up the river towards the port and marina.   As we walked across the bridge, the colourful, historic waterfront buildings on the eastern side of the river reminded us of a child’s drawing of houses as the picturesque tall, coloured rectangular buildings dominated the waterfront.    Once cleared in with customs the check-in procedure was complete and we enjoyed a coffee and cake at a waterside café before wandering through the narrow streets and exploring the town.  There are two things that immediately stand out in Willemstad, the colourful houses on the waterfront and the beautiful street art that adorns alot of the walls and shops in the town.

Curacao has a population of approx. 150,000 and Willemstad is the capital with the majority of the population living within the confines of the city.   It is the largest of the ABC islands and has a very different feel to Bonaire, not only because of the colour of the water in the anchorage, but the size of the town and general Hussle and Bussell of being in a larger community.    The history of Curacao is interesting with the original inhabitants coming from South America hundreds of years before the first Europeans arrived.   The Spanish arrived in Curacao in 1499 and enslaved most of the natives, transporting them to other Spanish colonies for forced labour.   The Spanish used Curacao as a bridge for exploring northern South America and eventually built a settlement in 1527 which was then governed by Venezuela as the Spanish continued to colonise South America, eventually abandoning the island in favour of building communities on the mainland.    The Dutch took over the island in 1634 following the Eighty Years’ War of independence between The Netherlands and Spain.   They used the island as the main centre for slaves, transporting them to Curacao before selling them elsewhere in the Caribbean and South America.  Many Dutch colonists prospered from the slave trade and built the colourful houses on the waterfront in Willemstad.

We decided to rent a car for a couple of days and explore the northern parts of the island that are hard to get to by bus.   After attempting, and failing, to find a place to purchase our required bearing, we headed north, first to Santa Cruz and then on to Playa Lagun.   The small beach was quite busy with restaurants accessed by steep steps on the northern side of the bay.    It was a hot day, so we all went for a snorkel before lunch.   There were lots of turtles feeding, surprisingly on fish, which I’d never seen before, and as I swam into the rocky shallows, more turtles were lazily scavenging in the rocks, not bothered by my presence as they occasionally pushed themselves up to the surface and took two breaths before continuing their leisurely swim.  

We walked along the coastal path in the National Park and watched the waves break on the rugged coastline, sending water high above our heads from the viewing platform.   Lizards scurried for shelter as we continued our walk to a small beach which, in season is a turtle laying reserve.   It saddened me hugely to see the beach covered in rubbish.   I’m not sure whether it had been washed up there or whether visitors had dropped it but it certainly looked as if it had come from the sea.  What frustrated me further was that we had paid an entrance fee into the park and rangers were parked at most of the areas identified as “of interest” yet they did nothing except sit in their cars playing music and giving visitors a cursory nod.   Why could they not start picking up the rubbish???

Back at the boat we ordered our new bearing and casing from the UK and, after a false start where the bearing ended up in Exeter and then didn’t move for a week, we waited expectantly for our parcel to arrive.   While we waited we visited a slave museum in Willemstad and the oldest synagogue in continuous use in the Americas which was in an inconspicuous looking building but hidden behind the walls was the lovely Mikve Israel-Emanuel Synagogue which was built in 1732.  The most noticeable feature was sand on the floor which depicts the Sinai Desert.  It also remembers those who put sand on the floor of secret rooms so early Jews in Curacao could continue to worship and the sand helped muffle the sound of their service.  

With our parcel still days away we explored a few dive spots close to our anchorage and snorkelled over a wreck of a tug boat which was now home to new coral and lots of colourful fish and conga eels.   One evening we tried our hand at dance lessons, attempting to learn one of the many beautiful (when done properly!) South American dance styles.  

Eventually our courier parcel arrived and Steve immediately set to work installing the new bearing – it was a huge relief when it slid into place relatively easily – well, nothing a bit of banging wouldn’t fix – and we took the boat on a test drive around the crowded anchorage to make sure the steering felt good and everything worked as it should!   Fortunately all went well, which was just as well, as we planned to leave the next day.   There had been very few weather windows for our passage to Colombia while we had been waiting for our parcel, so we wanted to take the first opportunity as we knew bad weather was coming and there would not be another window for at least a week. 

On a very wet morning we set off to complete the check out procedures with our planned sailing passage posse of ZenAgain and Seraphina.  By the time we reached immigration we were all soaked through and crammed into the small busy office to await our turn.  The people infront of us were asking if they could check out on behalf of a captain who had broken both his ankles attempting to perform a backflip on land – it hadn’t ended well!   Friends had met him a few days earlier when he was literally crawling back to his dinghy to return to his boat.   Immigration would not concede and instructed the two attempting to check out, that they needed to bring him in a car to the office and then the officers would kindly allow him to stay in the car while they completed the paperwork!   We had been told of a number of boats that had been turned away by immigration when they had attempted to check in.  Two boats had visited Venezuela prior to arriving in Curacao and one South African boat who did not have the appropriate visa.   Fortunately Bonaire are much more accommodating!   Our check out went smoothly for the three boats, and we were soon back in the rain heading to customs to complete the procedure.   Now we were checked out and soaking wet, we all contemplated whether it was a good idea to leave that afternoon, as planned, or wait until the morning.    Fred, an 81 year old solo sailor who was on his 3rd circumnavigation, announced he was going to wait until the morning while ZenAgain and we continued to discuss the merits of the best time to leave.   Steve and I were still trying to decide when ZenAgain pulled up their anchor and motored over to say goodbye.   We decided to wait an hour and follow them out, letting Fred know so he could follow behind us.    We were expecting rain and wind for the whole passage and when we heard Fred on the radio about 3hrs later stating he was considering stopping in Aruba as there wasn’t enough wind, we started to question whether the forecast was going to be accurate after-all.  

Friends, Fish and Frigate Birds

Sailing with friends on board was always part of the bigger picture for us. We really wanted to share our adventure with the people we love, but covi, to a greater extent, had prevented this from happening. All this was about to change with the arrival of Suzanne from the UK. We had planned and looked forward to her visit for almost 12 months and now my old friend and flatmate from 40 years ago was joining us for a month cruising and exploring the Leeward Islands. First we needed to sail the 360NM north to meet her in Antigua.

Grenada was hidden under a cloud of misty rain when we started our sail north.   The weather forecast predicted thunderstorms for the next couple of days so it was a good time to be heading offshore in the hope we could avoid some of the wet weather!  

We had a lovely sail, making good speed as we passed one small island country after another – St Vincents and Grenadines, St Lucia, Martinique, Dominica, Guadaloupe, Montserat passing closer to the northern most islands which shed large wind shadows across our path.   We looked hungrily at the islands we were passing, longing to stop and explore but knowing we will be able to give them justice on the return trip south.   For now we were on a schedule (the worst thing to have on a boat!) and we continued on our 350 NM sail north to Antigua where we were meeting our friend Suzanne in a few days.  

Before we left Grenada our good friends on Ruffian had given us a fishing line and lures as a thoughtful and kind parting gift.   Each morning we put out the line hoping this would be the day we would catch and land a prized fish.   On day two, that wish became a reality when we managed to land a beautiful Mahi Mahi.    As Steve slowly reeled in the line, we could see a large fish jumping off the waves behind us, flashing blue and green.   With hook, cloth, bucket and rum ready Steve hauled the large fish onto the boat, pouring rum into its gills to sedate it as the stunning (and stunned) fish made a final attempt to free itself.   We looked in awe at this amazing gift from the sea – yellow, blue and green with a massive head and big mouth.   Mahi Mahi (or Dorado/dolphin fish as we later found out) is, in our humble opinion, one of the best fish to catch – not only are they a beautiful fish to look at, they have very few bones and the ones they have our large and they are easy to fillet…. and they are delicious to eat.   We feasted on fresh fish for three days, the final day sharing a meal with four other friends.

We arrived in Jolly Harbour, Antigua in the early afternoon, marvelling at the turquoise waters as we negotiated a shallow entrance into the harbour, spotting a number of large turtles as we wound our way towards the anchorage.   We dropped the hook close to the main channel that led to Jolly Harbour, deciding to wait until the morning to check in.    It was now Monday and Suzanne was arriving on Wednesday evening, giving us time to sort ourselves and the boat out before she arrived.

The next morning we took the dinghy about a mile up the channel and completed the check-in process which was quick and painless as we had already completed and submitted an on-line ESea immigration form prior to leaving Granada and were able to show negative Covid RAT results.  Armed with a SIM card, fresh fruit and vegetables and a cruising permit, we returned to Cerulean in time for sundowners and a shared dinner with friends we had last seen in The Canaries.   We all enjoyed the last of the beautiful Mahi Mahi as we watched the sun go down over the different shades of blue in the bay – a perfect welcome to Antigua!  

Suzanne arrived the next evening and, even though she was tired from the long flight, we celebrated until late sitting up on deck drinking cocktails, catching up and opening all the wonderful packages she had kindly agreed to bring with her!!!    Together we explored the island over the next few days, gently acclimatising Suz to the heat and slow pace of the Caribbean.   We booked a day tour with the same taxi driver (Justin) who had collected Suz from the airport and he treated us to a fun day which seemed to involve quite a bit of rum at various locations.   He even stopped at his house and collected some rum punch he had prepared earlier and proceeded to share it around in the cab while driving us to the next destination!   We visited Betty’s Hope Historic Sugar Plantation which now stands as a relic to the former sugar industry that once defined Antigua.   These plantations housed hundreds of slaves, brought over from Africa and whose ancestors now call this island paradise home.    It was an odd feeling, knowing we had travel the same route as a lot of the slaves who were captured in West Africa, bundled into large ships and brought to the West Indies.  There are lots of reminders of Antigua’s past scattered around the island from Windmills which crushed the sugarcane, to the ruins of the old sugar processing factory and large “Coppers” used to boil down the cane and extract the sugar.   We visited a number of the 365 white sand beaches that attract holidaymakers from all over the world as the warm, turquoise waters invite you in to cool off from the hot sun.    Justin took us to a place where locals get their lunch – a small cabin on a grass verge, serving excellent local food with fresh produce. 

The English cricket team were touring The West Indies so we bought tickets for the first day of a Test Match at Sir Vivien Richards Stadium.   We joined Traci and Andrew, our friends on Yacht Walkabout, and had a lovely day catching up with cricket going on in the background!   Towards the end the Barmy Army found their voice and added real atmosphere to the occasion.

While in Falmouth Harbour we met up with my niece’s husband, Errol, who is captain of a visiting Superyacht.   The marina was filled with enormous Superyachts from all over the World and we watched in awe as these impressive displays of wealth manoeuvred into spaces I would not be comfortable taking Cerulean!!!    Errol invited us on board “Sorceress” a 31m carbon fibre, racing Superyacht.   Some of the rigging alone cost in excess of GBP300k!    She was beautiful and it was hard to jump in our small dinghy and return to our superyacht after that!!

Our next anchorage was Rickett Bay on Green Island, a lovely quiet area which is only accessible by boat and protected from the swell by a large reef.   As we negotiated a sand bar on the approach into the anchorage, a group of dolphins played in our bow wave which was a perfect welcome to the beautiful surrounds and a great first sighting in The Caribbean waters for Suz.   We spent the next few days relaxing in the pretty small bay, watching the colour of the water change as the weather turned from sunshine to showers, wind to calm.  Turtles popped up in the blue waters, stretched their necks out so they could look around and slowly sunk down again into the clear sea.   Other boats jostled their way into the anchorage until the bay was filled with a multinational selection of yachts all sheltering from the strong easterly Trade Winds that blow constantly at this time of the year.  As the other boats left, we stayed for another night, enjoying a perfect day where we shared the bay with only one other boat which meant the turtles surfaced more often and we were treated to constant visits as they grew in confidence.

The wind had been blowing constantly with gusts of over 30knots and we sheltered in the small bay, waiting for a lull.   The forecast showed constant wind from the East but not quite as strong as it had been, so we made a dash across the shallow entrance and headed for Barbuda, a small island 30NM northwest of Antigua.   The island is very low lying and surrounded by golden beaches which, until a few years ago, provided luxury get-aways for the wealthy tourists, however Hurricane Irma devastated the small island community in 2017 and has not yet recovered from the destruction left in its wake.    Hotels are being rebuilt but for the moment these are few and far between, so the small island paradise is visited mostly only by sailors and, because of its location, not too many venture further north than Antigua.    

As we sailed, the wind increased in strength and Suz, instead of being treated to a beautiful leisurely sail in tropical blue waters, endured a bouncy, fast and exciting dash until we anchored off the lagoon which the main town sits on.  Along the way we put out the fishing line, hoping to catch another Mahi Mahi but instead caught three Barracuda with very big and sharp teeth, so were thrown back before they could do any damage!   Later we were told the local fishermen consider Barracuda a delicacy, so regretted throwing them back when we could have donated them to locals.

The lagoon at Codrington had been completely cut off from the sea by a thin sand bar, but Hurricane Irma opened up a narrow entrance so dinghies can now access the town from the sea.   However, the wind was howling across the shallow lagoon, whipping up the water and making it impossible for us to take our small dinghy with three adults safely to town.   We were anchored off a long, empty beautiful beach but the breaking surf on the white sands was a deterrent to launching the dinghy and ourselves into the waves as disaster was bound to unfold as we neared the beach!   Instead, we called Pat, who owns a water taxi, which arrived 2hrs late, and sped us to Codrington across the windy lagoon so we could explore the town and get some much needed fresh supplies.   As we wandered the streets, we met some of the friendly locals who left us with smiles on our faces as we learned a little about life living on a small island, totally dependent on tourists but with few visitors over the last 24 months.   Several of the houses and buildings had not been rebuilt and there were gaps where houses once stood leaving an impression of a smile with teeth missing!    As we walked along the streets a man on a new looking tricycle approached us, asking if we were lost.   His name was Toomba and he entertained us with stories and answered our questions as he walked with us through town, acknowledging everyone who passed along the way.   He introduced us to his sister who presented us with a hand of delicious Ladyfinger bananas after we had admired some growing nearby.   Donkeys, goats and horses roamed, unfenced around the rutted streets, wandering into unfenced gardens or down driveways.   We loved it!

We moved anchorages to Cocoa Point off the pristine Princess Diana Beach in the south of the island.   The beach was renamed in 2011 as Princess Di holidayed here many times and had a special connection with the island.   Large turtles welcomed us as we dropped the anchor and a sting ray darted under the boat.  We jumped into the warm, blue waters and cooled off.   Later we dinghied to the beach and feasted on fresh barbecued Lobster which we had ordered earlier.   We brought our own cutlery, plates and salads but the Rum Punch, sunset and atmosphere was provided!   It was a perfect night, apart from our exit which resulted in me being dumped in the surf as I tried launching the dinghy after having too many strong Rum Punches!!    

On our last morning Steve and I jumped in the clear water for one last swim before leaving Barbuda.   As I snorkelled around the boat I spotted a shark cruising around which resulted in Steve staying in the water on his own! 

We had a lovely sail back to Codrington, arriving just as a squall hit followed by drenching rain as we dropped the anchor in front of a destroyed resort on the end of the entrance into the lagoon.   Next morning Pat came to collect us in his powerful dinghy to take us to see the Frigate Bird sanctuary.    Barbuda has the largest Frigate bird colony in the western hemisphere with birds flying between the Caribbean and Galapagos islands during the varying mating seasons.   Even though these magnificent birds are seabirds, there feathers are not waterproof and they cannot land in the water, so all of our sightings to date had been watching them sore high above us with their impressive 2.4m wingspan.  We skimmed across the choppy lagoon waters heading north with no Frigate birds in sight.   Beach soon gave way to low mangroves and we continued bouncing at full speed across the shallow water.   All of a sudden, we turned a corner, and the sky was full of birds.   It was crazy – Frigate birds were all around, and above us noisily circling their crowded nesting area.   Young grey chicks sat alone in their nest, peering out, looking like Rod Hulls Emu as the inquisitive birds squawked at us with Pat edging his dinghy closer and closer to them.    We were mesmorised by the scene that was unfolding in front of us.   Huge birds flew overhead while others perched in the top of the low mangrove trees.   Some of the male birds had bright red throats which they puffed out like a balloon to attract females.  The gular sac takes 20 minutes to inflate so the males need to be pretty sure they’ll attract a mate before going to all that effort!   It was quite late in the breeding season so, sadly, the few males we saw with puffed out throats were the ones the females did not find attractive, and they made for a desperate sight as they stood out amongst the hundreds of nests containing a singular grey fluffy chick!  

It was time to leave and explore another Caribbean island.   Suz was only with us for another 2 weeks, so we needed to keep moving.  We had dinner and left as the sun was setting, picking our way through the maze of reefs that surround Barbuda.    It had been a special visit to Antigua and Barbuda, creating wonderful memories with Suz and continuing to wonder at the resilience of people who suffered huge trauma and loss with the devastating hurricane a few years ago, but are coming out the other side smiling and feeling positive.    I was not expecting Antigua to be as raw and relatively uncommercialised as it is.   It is a haven for Super Yachts, so I had expected it to be full of shopping malls and expensive restaurants to cater for the wealthy, but was pleasantly surprised by the lack of high-rises and unique character that remains on the islands.  In our opinion, Barbuda is the jewel in the crown – a gift that kept giving as its beautiful secrets were slowly shown to us.   The wind direction will make it hard for us to return but our experiences and people we met while in Antigua and Barbuda will stay with us for a lifetime.

An ill wind

Sao Nicolau was an overnight passage and we enjoyed flat seas again as we decided to head round the north of the island.   We decided to try 2hr watches instead of the normal 3hrs, just to ensure we both had opportunities to sleep in case there was a need for both of us to be on watch as we approached the island.   As it happened, the wind dropped and we had a very lazy, relaxed sail to Tarrafal.   As we came close to the small harbour, the wind picked up, funnelling down the tall hills that were a backdrop to the picturesque town.   We anchored away from the harbour in an area we felt was more sheltered, and jumped into the dinghy to go ashore, calling in on friends who were anchored in the bay close to town.    We had first met Peter and Inge in The Canaries and then we met again in Gambia.  They are sailing their fossil free boat, Ya, around the world to promote environmentally friendly sailing and businesses (www.fossilfreearoundtheworld.org).

After checking in, we returned to Cerulean to make sure our anchor was set.   The winds had increased considerably and after our recent dragging incident, we did not want to risk another incident with us off the boat!     We watched a large loggerhead turtle swim around the boat in the clear blue water and attempt to climb up onto the boarding platform of the boat next to us!   Amazing to watch these beautiful creatures in their natural habitat.

The next day Ruffian surprised us by joining us in the bay and we happily went ashore together to have one last walk in the hills – and it really was an “Epic” (Iain’s words) walk.    We took an aluguer (minibus) from Tarrafal and were dropped off at the top of a steep hill.   We then walked down a stone pathway to the small capital of Sao Nicolau, Ribiera Brava, which is near the centre of the island, nestled in a valley surrounded by high hills.    The town has a Portuguese feel to it with well maintained parks and impressive buildings from the 1800’s colonial-era with the narrow cobbled streets clean and rubbish free – unusual for West Africa!    

We met the same aluguer driver who had dropped us at the top of the hill and he greeted us like old friends as we climbed into his van to get a lift back to Tarrafal.  The drive back was a wonderful experience – the journey took us down windy cobbled streets, steep gravel roads, through banana and papaya plantations and small hillside villages and roads with incredible vistas over the jagged hilltops.   Every so often the minibus would stop outside a house where a pre-arranged pick up had been organised and some friendly banter would take place before people or packages were loaded into the van.   Our experience cost us 2 euros each – well worth the 40 minute drive!

Next day, with fond memories of our farewell dinner with Ruffian fresh in our minds and tummies, we parted again as we continued our journey to Mindelo. We were keen to get there for a couple of reasons – first being strong winds were forecast for the next couple of days and second being we had jobs we needed to get done before leaving to cross the Atlantic the following week.     As we sailed the 50NM, we created a few more jobs, as if we needed them!

Once safely in the exposed marina, we headed to the floating bar for a meal and start to get a feel for the place.    The marina is like a piece of Europe in an otherwise African town.   Mindelo is much more “modern” than other places we have visited in Cape Verde but still has a distinctive African feel with fish unloaded from small boats at the beach and processed before being taken to the neighbouring fish market.   A couple of well stocked vegetable and fruit markets selling locally grown produce are in the town and a number of supermarkets with limited choice and selection, but enough for us to replenish our stores with the essentials.

We contacted BoatCV who we were reliable told could help us fix most of the items that needed repairing – namely, broken sprayhood frame, mainsail luff car solution, replacement bow navigation light and replacement engine anodes.   Their moto is: “If it’s man-made, we can fix it…” and they certainly gave excellent service, coming to see us immediately and understanding all our requirements straight away.   We were really impressed, but sadly their enthusiasm did not match their actual delivery…..

Since arriving in Mindelo, Steve had been struggling with ill health, feeling washed out and exhausted.   When this was followed by a cough we decided to get him tested and frustratingly but not really surprisingly, it came back as positive to Covid.   We had managed to dodge this bullet for two years and now, a few days before our imminent departure for a three week sail across the Atlantic, it had finally caught up with us!    We both isolated on the boat, letting those people we had been in close contact with, know about our situation.   At least we had food on the boat and lots of work to keep us occupied!   On arrival in the Caribbean we have to show we had a negative covid test prior to leaving our last port, so now, to avoid extra costs, we had to wait until we felt confident we were well enough to deliver negative results at the official testing station in Mindelo.    Over the next few days I started developing symptoms too so we stayed on board and continued working on the boat, getting through the long list of jobs we had identified and then adding more once these jobs were complete.   We even managed to wash the boat to get rid of some of the Senegal dust which still coated everything.  

Still feeling under the weather (no pun intended!), we extended our stay in the marina for a few days eventually anchoring in the bay overlooking Mindelo on a sunny Friday afternoon.   With no news of our parts arriving, we now had to wait for a number of stars to align:  my health to improve, the parts to arrive and the wind to be right for departure.    A large hole of no wind had settled over Cape Verde and we needed to practice patience before starting on our long passage.   All this waiting was making me angry!   I was angry at everyone and everything – the people on neighbouring boats who talked too loud, the men who didn’t deliver our promise parts, the company that stills owes us money from the UK, the local phone company for making it so complicated to buy extra data, the unknown person who gave us covid, the people who don’t respond immediately to any email I send and mostly with myself, for feeling the way I did!     As my wise uncle said to me – “smoke some weed and chill the hell out…..!”   

Saturday dawned and, with my health 100 times better, we set off early to start chasing down our missing parts.   It took all day, but by 5pm we were back on the boat with the parts in hand and re-installing our mainsail and sprayhood.   To be fair, the work and solutions were excellent, it was just the timeframe and service that was poor.  At last we were making steps forward and the boat jobs were almost complete – although being a boat, the job list seldom gets shorter, just different!   The weather window was still looking good for a Tuesday departure so we decided to spend Sunday off the boat and enjoy the environment we were lucky enough to be in.

We caught the first ferry to neighbouring island Santo Antao.   The island is the second largest in the group and for us, the most stunning scenery we have ever experienced.   We took a minivan to the north east of the island, driving up narrow cobbled roads into the lush centre with the landscape gradually changing from baron plateaus to lush dramatic valleys and mountainous scenery with terraced hillsides growing sugar cane, bananas, papaya and coconuts.   The views quite literally took our breath away.   Steep cliffs plummeting to the blue clear sea, patchwork fields and jiggered hilltops – it was a feast for the eyes and heart.   Just when you think you’ve seen everything you can take in, you turn a corner and there’s another stunning vista to absorb and appreciate.  

We stopped in Paul for lunch and noticed a group of people in an empty section across the road.   I saw they were all busy picking up litter and filling a large wheelbarrow with discarded cups and bottles, so went over to talk to them and offered to help.   They eagerly accepted my offer and explained the land was going to be used to grow produce for the community as the price of fresh vegetables and fruit was too high for many to afford.   When there is an abundance of fruit, they will make juice for sale in the local shops.   I loved the project and they were so appreciative and happy that we helped them – it felt good to be able to give back.

We had spent the last 18 months preparing the boat and ourselves for our next challenge and the time had now arrived for us to take the leap and cross the Atlantic – our biggest passage to date.   We expect to spend 14 to 18 days at sea, arriving in Grenada at the start of February.    We felt ready and excited to begin the journey and the weather was looking good for a Tuesday start.    Next stop The Caribbean.

Fair winds, following seas and fishing boats

A few years ago, when asked whether I enjoyed night sailing passages, I would have answered in the negative but now my answer would be quite different.   I enjoy the one-night short passages more than the three night ones, purely because the latter is not long enough to get into a good routine and for the former, you don’t need a routine.   If I don’t sleep for one night, it’s ok and I can recover quickly.   A three-day passage on the other hand, is too long not to sleep and too short to get into a good sleeping rhythm of three hours on, three off.    Our trip leaving Gambia for Cape Verde was a 420 mile journey and, as the winds were forecast to be light, would take 3-4 days, so fell into the “not so enjoyable” ranking, but I was still looking forward to it as we were both keen to start our long journey West and this was the start of our Atlantic crossing.  

We pulled out of Banjul as soon as it was light, navigated around the many wrecks in the bay and followed Ruffian out of the shallow channel into the Atlantic Ocean.   The Cape Verde Islands lie NW of Gambia and we had plotted a course which took us 50 miles off-shore before heading north in an attempt to avoid the many small unlit fishing boats we encountered on the passage from Dakar.   Other yachts had told us horror stories of hitting small fishing boats in the night and running over unseen fishing nets, so we wanted to get as far away from the coastline as possible before it got dark.   By nightfall we were 50 miles from land and starting to head more north but there were still small wooden pirogues with about six men on board in the open, low level boats cooking over a small charcoal burner which you could often smell before seeing the fishermen bobbing around in the sea.    At about 10pm I was on watch when a large boat suddenly appeared out of the darkness very close to us on our port side.   I only saw it when it lit up like a Christmas tree with powerful red and white spotlights pointed at us, blinding me in the darkness.   I turned on the engine and hoofed it but the boat then started following us.   I jumped into action, doing everything we had talked about in preparation for an uninvited boarding.   I then called Ruffian on the radio and gave them our position and letting them know what was happening and then, lastly, woke up Steve with a “This is not a drill” comment!   The bright lights continued to blind us before the boat turned to starboard and powered off into the night.   I was relieved to say the least and stood everyone down, sending Steve back to bed.   My heart still pumping with adrenalin, I continued with my watch when the same thing happened again – another boat suddenly appeared on our port side shining green laser lights directly at me.   It was really hard to tell how close the boat was to us but it looked very close, so I once again turned on the engine and tried to speed away by turning to starboard.   With the lights blinding me, I looked to starboard and saw another green light and realised I was about to run over their fishing net.   I put the engine in neutral to try to prevent the net getting caught in the propeller and felt the boat slow as the strong ropes caught on our rudder.   Fortunately we had enough momentum to carry us over the top of the net and I turned to see another boat appear from nowhere, coming towards me, so I threw the engine in gear and once again accelerated out of there.   Due to my loud cursing, Steve was now also wide awake so joined me on deck as I gathered my composure and tried to get the boat sailing again.   

Fortunately that was last of the fishing boats we encountered, slipping through the shipping lane with no drama and at daybreak the seas were flat and we had perfect sailing conditions all day.   Dolphins joined us for a while, playing in our bow wave, we hooked a fish but it broke our line and took our precious lure with it, I made delicious fresh bread and we enjoyed the hot day at sea.   As evenings fell it started to get damp and cooler than we had experienced in Africa which was a welcome relief and made sleeping easier.   

The unfortunate flying fish must be the unluckiest fish in the World as several of them found our boat in the middle of an empty ocean and met their demise flopping around on our deck.   We were able to rescue some of them before they died, but only the ones that virtually jumped into our lap as we were doing our nightwatch.   The result was a mixture of elation for saving the life of a beautiful blue fish that look like they are in the evolution process of turning from fish to bird, quickly followed by regret as the fish scales left on your hands leaves a lingering pungent smell long after the fish has thanklessly flown away!   We had moonless skies for most of our night watches with an orange slither moon rising at about 4am each morning providing little light for us to sail by.   The nights were long but beautiful with clear star filled skies for us to sail under.  

On our third morning we saw land as the sun rose and the island of Sal came into view.   After exactly 36hours at sea, we were arriving at a new country following one of the best passages yet experienced, shared with Ruffian who had once again matched us for speed the whole way.   

We had been told we needed to have a Covid test on arrival and this took place at 1300hrs each day.   We wanted to see if we could arrive in time as it was New Years Eve and if we missed the deadline we would need to quarantine on the boat for at least two days until the testing centre re-opened.   We also had to complete check-in procedures before the 4pm cut-off and as it was a Friday, one of the offices would be closed over the weekend.   Our tracking device told us we were due to arrive at the port of Palmeira at 12 noon providing we maintained our average speed, so we knew it would be tight.   Then Fi radioed to remind us that Cape Verde was on a different time zone, so we gained an hour but it was still going to be a race to get there, anchor and get ashore in time.   Challenge accepted!

In fact, we arrived in Palmeira at 11:20am after an incredible passage feeling tired but elated.   That soon turned to frustration when we anchored three times and were told to move after each occasion due to being too close to the channel.   With limited space and lots of yachts already anchored we could not see where there was space until a man in a dinghy approached us and gestured for us to follow him.   He rowed his small inflatable dinghy through a narrow gap between two large boats and expected us to follow.   I refused as the wind had set in and was not confident that either we, or the two boats we were squeezing through, would not suddenly swing and close the narrow gap.    Eventually we made it through to where the man was waiting close to a small mooring buoy.   He indicated that we could use the buoy but I was not overly happy as we were extremely close to a neglected looking boat behind which was on a mooring with a half submerged buoy and as we swung, we went over the top of it.   With few alternative places to park up, we changed the lines on the mooring buoy to shorter, stronger ones and kept a watch on how close we were getting to the boat behind while the man in the dinghy insisted we were fine and not to worry about the boat behind.   I took some solace in thinking he was the local harbour attendant so he should know what he’s talking about……   Although uncomfortably close, we were not going to hit the boat behind, so felt confident we would be ok to leave Cerulean for an hour or so to get tested and check in. 

The Covid test was done quickly and with our negative results in hand, went to the police station to start checking in.   The police insisted that they hold onto the originals of our boat papers until we check out – something we were not happy to do but, again, had little choice.   We were then asked to return the next morning to have our passports stamped and complete immigration procedures.  

Back on the water, we celebrated New Years with team Ruffian, all of us struggling, and failing, to keep awake to midnight after four days of non-stop sailing so when we crashed into bed, I was asleep before my head hit the pillow and heard nothing of the loud celebrations from the French boat close to us that we were told about next day!      On 1 January we went ashore, along the way we collected the man who had guided us to our mooring as he was asking for a lift from a boat near to us.   We told him we were intending to leave today so needed to pay giving him half of what he was saying we owed, but he disappeared without thanking us for the ride and looking a little disgruntled.   Later, after deciding to stay for one more night and as the sun was going down, we discussed how we were going to a) pay for the additional day on the mooring as we had not seen the man we had given a lift to earlier, return to the boat and b) how we were going to manoeuvre in such a tight space when we left in the morning, when two men in a large wooden launch came alongside.   One of them explained that we were on his mooring and asked who had said we can stay there.    It transpired that the guy we had paid, was a con artist and we had been sucked right in!   We had to pay for the mooring again, hoping this would be the last time!

Sal is a low, flat barren island with a growing population which seems very young.  Boys aged from about 8yrs old rushed to be the first to “help” when dinghies appeared close to the beach or dock, on one occasion racing to be at our dinghy before we were in shallow water and having to swim beside us to make sure he was the first to communicate with us.   They wanted money for “taking care” of the dinghy while we were away from it and we gave them a few escudos worth about 20Cents, which they seemed happy with.  

We were anchored in Palmeira, a sleepy, dusty town with lots of partially built houses, stray dogs and a very sleepy feel to the whole place.   The quality of the new builds had alot to be desired, even from this untrained eye, and I would not have been happy spending one night under their roof, let alone live in them unfinished, as many people do. We caught an aluguer, which is a minibus that has no schedule but drives around, beeping at people until the driver is happy he has enough passengers to make the journey worthwhile!   We headed for the capital, Vila do Espargos in the centre of the small island.   As it was New Years Day, the town was very quiet and few shops were open so, armed with a sim card and cash from the ATM, we returned to Palmeira.

Next morning we left very early, before the wind picked up and at slack tide.   We had checked out the day before as we need to check in and out of each island we visit in the Cape Verdes.   Getting off the mooring buoy was less painful and easier than we had imagined so we both heaved a huge sigh of relief when we were back in the channel and once more heading out to sea.   This time it was just a very short distance around the headland to Baia da Mordeira – a wide bay with beautiful sandy beach where loggerhead turtles come in August-November to lay their eggs in the sand.   The surf was thundering onto the white sand and strong winds were funnelling through the bay.   While waiting for Ruffian to join us, we decided we would only stay for the day, and leave for Sao Nicolau in the late afternoon for an overnight passage to cover the 90NM.   Sao Nicolau is a small fertile and mountainous island in the north of the archipelago and was our next stepping stone to reach our jumping off point for when we cross the Atlantic.   

We were keen to keep moving and were very focused on what needed to be done before we left for the Caribbean in less than two weeks.  Iain and Fi on Ruffian had decided to spend time exploring the Cape Verdes and were not in such a hurry to move on, so it was time to say goodbye.   After four fabulous months cruising, exploring, laughing and playing together we were now heading in different directions for a while.   The promise of sailing together again in the near future made the farewell a little easier, but not much.   Fi and Iain have been our rocks, guiding lights, mentors and friends.  They have enriched our cruising experience and have brought laughter, wisdom and experience into each day we spent together – which has been almost every day in the last 16 weeks.  

As we pulled up the anchor we sailed passed Ruffian as Iain and Fi stood on the deck waving us off.   None of us know what lies ahead but I strongly believe that if you want something enough, it will happen so I’m confident we will be cruising together again in the foreseeable future.

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.

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!