Category: Island Hopping

Learning the ABC’s

Bonaire – the bluest water and best underwater scenery we have yet experienced, add to this a visit from my sister to make Bonaire one of our favourite destinations.

I feel I should emphasize that we love our boat – despite all the breakages, problems and challenges we have had, we don’t believe this is anything more than usual when undertaking a journey like ours in a 28yr old boat, although the type of things that have failed have been a little more challenging!  Sadly this is just part of the adventure and we have learned to understand that this journey is 10% sailing, 10% exploring and 80% maintenance.   Our regular servicing and checks have definitely prevented us from experiencing more issues but there will always be things that break or wear away that are hidden – only a boat that stays in one place stays in one piece so we just have to find a way to repair things and sometimes be creative!

We left Grenada mid-morning and headed North West, catching sight of Tokimata, our buddy boat, as we rounded the south western headland.   This was the first time we had buddy sailed with another NZ boat and it felt like we were in good company as we heard Peter’s familiar kiwi accent coming over the VHF radio!  

We had decided to try a different sail combination and had rigged another large jib to a removable forestay before leaving the anchorage in Grenada.   With clear air, we hoisted the hanked on jib and then unfurled our poled out yankee, leaving the mainsail in its sailbag.   The boat immediately responded, picking up speed and cutting through the Atlantic roll, giving us a fast and comfortable sail away from the green hills of Grenada.   We watched some large rain clouds pass either side of us as we continued our sail North West and into the night.   Our plan was to stay about 60NM north of the Venezuelan coast as we had read reports it could be unsafe to sail too close due to piracy, although we had not met anyone who had experienced any problems.

The moon was ¾ full and shone brightly until it set at about midnight on the first night as we tried to get into the slow routine of passage making and sleeping on cue!   Steve always takes the first 3hr watch from 8pm while I rest in our cabin.   Hilda, the hydrovane, was set and working perfectly as we continued on our 400+NM passage to Bonaire, meaning we could turn most of our instruments off and save on power consumption.   During passage our solar in-take is reduced due to more shadow on the panels so we carefully monitor the level of our batteries to make sure we are not letting them run down too low.    Steve had been on watch for about an hour when a large squall hit us.   These squalls are hard to see at night but can be monitored on radar, which we regularly scanned, particularly at night and considering most boats, like us, had turned off their AIS so were not as easy to keep track of.   We knew there was a weather system approaching but it sped up and hit us a lot quicker than anticipated.   I rushed up on deck to help reef one of the jibs as the rain fell in torrents, lasting only five minutes and giving us both, and the boat, a refreshing shower, cooling us down from the tropical evening heat!  The boat settled down again, still with our two headsails working well as the night passed quickly with very little traffic while I spent most of my watch stargazing and in quiet awe of the vastness of the ocean and sky around us.   I’m often amazed how I can sit and do absolutely nothing but observe the light on the water or look up at the millions of stars above me and feel at total peace.  

Each night we talked to our friends on Tokimata, Escapade of London and ZenAgain on SSB Radio to give position reports, weather updates and news on the day’s events!   Tokimata were following a similar track to us about 20NM behind while Escapade and ZenAgain were still in Grenada and it was comforting to know they were keeping track of our progress!   

We were still making great headway with Hilda keeping us on course at speeds of upto 8knots.  On day two our dreams of catching another Mahi Mahi were realised and we hauled a beautiful fish on board which Steve masterly bled and filleted so we could have a wonderful dinner that night and for the next couple of dinners.  By now we had altered course so the wind was more on our beam and we stowed the second jib and pulled up the main.   On our last night five swallows joined us on board, four perched on one line and one on another rope facing them.   The four kept vigil all night, swaying as the boat rolled until the morning when we discovered the solitary bird had died.   We gave it a burial at sea and watched as the remaining four birds took flight and headed out across the ocean.

On the morning of day three the faint outline of the lowlands of Bonaire slowly came into view until we could finally make out the glaring white pyramid shapes of sea salt mounds on the shore line.    A large pod of dolphins played in our bow wave as the morning sun accentuated the clear deep blue waters we were cutting through.   The three day sail had been one of the best passages we had experienced with some real champagne sailing, calm seas and clear nights.   We felt rested and happy as we made our way towards the next island adventure.

Bonaire is the second largest island in the Netherlands Antilles, a group of three main islands located 50NM off the coast of Venezuela, comprising of Aruba, Bonaire and Curacao, generally known as the ABC’s.   Each island has its own distinctive flavour with Bonaire being known for its world class diving, due to a protected reef that surrounds the island.   The island is small – only 285sq km and about 40km long with a population of around 20,000 – the same size as Ashburton in NZ.   A number of the population are descendants of slaves who were brought in from Africa to work in the salt fields.   After the abolition of slavery in the mid 1800’s the island, and the people, were largely forgotten with the salt production closing down.   All this changed after the war when the salt fields were re-opened and the tourism boom started. 

Today the island is a mix of black, South American and Dutch, in fairness it is mostly white Europeans who have moved here on a free Dutch one way visa and this seems to have contributed to a building boom and a huge increase in the cost of housing.   The island became a municipal of The Netherlands in 2010 which means a Principal or Governor from The Netherlands, oversees the elected local council, while the two other islands in the ABC’s – Curacao and Aruba – chose to go independent, probably because their population base allowed them to do this.

After securing a mooring buoy, and helping our friends on Cushla (who we knew from Grenada and arrived just after us) and Tokimata do the same, we visited Customs and Immigration to check in.  This proved incredibly easy and quick with no mention of the US$70pp tourist tax we believed we would need to pay on arrival following it coming into force a couple of months earlier.    We were now free to explore the island and get familiar with our new surroundings.

We hired a car with Peter and Rachel from Tokimata and spent a couple of days exploring the south and then the north of the island, snorkelling from recommended beaches, bird watching, driving the unsealed, potholed roads in the National Park and befriending large iguanas who circled around us looking up at us expectantly!    Peter and Rachel were on a tight deadline so left Bonaire after a few days and just before the first of the nasty weather started!    As Bonaire is a protected area, anchoring is forbidden so picking up a mooring buoy in the shallow waters of Kralendijk (the main town) is the only option, apart from taking a marina berth.   For 95% of the time, this is fine, as the prevailing winds blow from the east giving great protection on the buoys on the west side of the island.   The problem comes when the wind blows from the west, known locally as a “Reversal” and suddenly the shallow protective mooring field becomes a messy, dangerous place with boats bouncing on buoys very close to the sea wall with an on-shore wind.   This happened three times while we were in Bonaire, not including another night which was very uncomfortable as Tropical Storm Julia formed overhead!   During one of these Reversals one boat ended up on the rocks after breaking their mooring lines but amazingly it was not badly damaged and we watched it being refloated the next day.

My sister, Judy flew out to join us on board for a very special week of exploring together.   We snorkelled some great spots together, but none were as good as the fabulous coral and fish on Klein Bonaire where we felt we were flying above a forest of brightly coloured trees.   The purple fan coral gently waved in the clear water while the incredible rounded shape of the giant brain coral mesmorised us as our eyes tried to follow the maze of the large head structure.   Large brightly coloured fish guided us through shallow water as we sometimes had to suck in our stomachs to avoid touching the coral that was just below the surface.   Beautiful angelfish, parrotfish, large schools of tang and goatfish swam amongst the underwater garden with a loggerhead turtle silhouetted against the darker blue of the deeper water as we swam over the coral shelf.   It was an experience I am so happy I shared with Judy as we both emerged from the water with big eyes and huge smiles!

Our mooring buoy was next to a dive school and on the edge of a coral wall so we were treated to an array of sea creatures every day.  We had an octopus visit us one evening, alerted to it by our neighbours on Beez Neez, and we watched it change colour as it moved from coral head to sandy seabed in search of food.  A small spotted stingray flew past us with a long tail and a large tarpon took shelter against Beez Neez keel.   Each day we swam and snorkelled around the boat to see what new visitors we had amongst the brightly coloured fish that hovered under and around us.

Judy left after a week and our friends on ZenAgain joined us after an equally good sail from Grenada.   We discovered other snorkel sites with Mike and Nicki, using a truck that was made available for cruisers to hire, to try out 1000 steps and CandyLand – both excellent snorkel spots.   We then headed to Salt Pier and swam with a couple of feeding turtles in the shallow water before experiencing the underwater beauty of an above ground ugly structure, as brightly coloured coral grew from the foundations of the pier.

Our last few days in Bonaire coincided with a sailing regatta which included lots of on land festivities.  Streets were closed, large stages erected, and food stalls lined the main street.   People came in large power boats from neighbouring Curacao and the town came alive with children and young families.   Together with ZenAgain and Cushla, we enjoyed some of the music and festivities as we bade a long farewell to Bonaire.   The day before we were due to leave, we took Cerulean over to Klein Bonaire for a final snorkel, inviting Mike and Nicki to join us.   As we approached the mooring buoy on Klein the wheel jammed and would only allow me to turn to the left.   Fortunately we were close to the buoy and Steve was able to secure us on the mooring before we started investigating the problem.   We discovered a partly shredded bearing casing was catching in the steering mechanism and once cleared we once again had full movement of the wheel.   There had been no early indication of the bearing failing – no scraping, friction or catching, so it was a little disconcerting that our steering could be so silently affected!   Fortunately it did not happen while at sea and we were able to resolve the problem, all be it temporarily.   

We decided to continue with our plans to leave Bonaire for Curacao where we felt we would be able to find a solution and get the parts we needed to make the repairs before heading off on a longer passage.   The sail to Curacao was only around 30NM and with a good breeze forecast we bade farewell to beautiful Bonaire, our home for the last month, with its clear blue waters, incredible reefs, colourful fish and good friends.   We set our course west, just as angry clouds were forming on the horizon ahead of us.

The long goodbye

There are times when you know you are in the right place doing the right thing. When you feel a sense of calm come over you; when you feel the gentle embrace of friendship; the slow rhythm of life creating new routines and the sudden realisation that having a day off without feeling guilt is ok!

Our lives soon became a comfortable routine of happy moments and experiences. Our friends on Take Five had finally caught up after last seeing them in The Canaries when they left ahead of us to cross The Atlantic with my sister Bea and brother-in-law, Andy, on board. They anchored next to us in the busy bay which was now a happy community of old and new friends. Together we organised for a group of 20 to go to Carnival together, the first Carnival, or Spicemas, which has been held since 2019 due to Covid, so the island was ready to party.

Carnival is a two day public holiday which starts on the Monday at dawn with J’Ouvert where people dress as devils called Jabs-Jabs, wearing black horned helmets, chains and covered in black oil. Spectators are also covered in oil with back handprints and pale background seemingly being the ultimate prize for the horned Jabs-Jabs’. Monday night Mass is a parade of bands with colourful costumes and feature the Short Knee bands who carry talcum powder as a symbol of appreciation and sprinkle it on those who make a cash donation. Sadly the Festival was lacking a good Event Manager and nothing ran to time, with the Monday Mass starting 4hrs late – too late for most cruisers, so we missed the main part of the show. Carnival Tuesday is known as The Last Lap and dancers gyrate through the streets in bright, skimpy costumes following trucks, each with their own DJ or band playing music with the bass so loud it reverberated through our bodies as they passed us by. The atmosphere was friendly, happy and inclusive even though a lot of the symbolic costumes and actions referenced the days of slavery and the hatred of the white landowners.

With the date of our departure for Bonaire constantly being pushed back while we waited for news on whether our friends on Ilanda had received their new, larger outboard motor so we could buy their current one from them, we decided to take an introductory SCUBA dive. I am not confident under the water and didn’t want to commit to doing my PADI openwater certificate if I didn’t enjoy it. Steve and I were the only students on the day and we were well looked after as we practiced breathing under water and learning how to manage the heavy equipment. I loved it and felt very relaxed in the shallow warm waters at Lance Aux Epines Beach in Prickly Bay. Steve was, surprisingly, not quite as comfortable under the water but we both agreed it was something we wanted to take further once we arrive in Bonaire.

We were keen to see more of the island so, together with four other friends – Zen Again and Take Five – we hired a local guide who had come highly recommended, and spent a day touring the island. We had already been to some of the sights, but were keen to see others so suggested an itinerary which, Cutty, our guide, tweaked slightly before we left for a full day of adventure.

One of the many things we wanted to do before leaving Grenada was to see monkeys in the wild. Only a few of Caribbean islands have monkeys as they are not native to the area, having been brought here from Western Africa on slave ships in the 1700’s. The mona monkey is found in the interior of the island where the rain forest is thick and food plentiful, however sometimes they do come out of the interior and steal fruit crops, upsetting farmers and locals. For this reason, there is a hunting season and locals are allowed to eat their meat for a few months of the year. Cutty was a monkey whisperer and charmed a few cheeky monkeys out of the trees for us, encouraging them to land on our shoulders and heads as he used bananas as a reward! Their soft padded feet gently moved up my arms and they happily jumped from one person to the next, coaxed by the fruit that, when given to them, they ran back into the trees to savour the prized banana, storing it in their cheeks like hamsters, for them to enjoy later!

Our day included a swim in a refreshing pond under one of the Seven Sisters Waterfalls, a visit to a disused airfield where the PM’s old private plane lays decaying beside an old Cuban Airways passenger plane, both unused since the 70’s and now slowly rotting away in a field now used as a children’s playing ground! Cutty delighted in telling us about the wonderful medicinal qualities of the many native plants on the island as well as showing us how Cinnamon is harvested, explained about how nutmeg was the islands major export crop until the devastating hurricane 15 years ago destroyed 80% of the trees, and picked us a cacoa pod so we could suck on the sweet flesh that surrounds the cocoa bean. He took us to the islands oldest rum distillery which still uses a waterwheel to crush the sugarcane, although not open to the public, Cutty had a key and took us on a private tour explaining each step of the process.

It was a lovely day spent with good friends and a fabulous, informative guide. We travelled the length and width of the island, learning about the spices, politics and economy of this beautiful place we have been lucky enough to call home for about three months.

Our time in Grenada was coming to an end. The height of the hurricane season was now upon us and each morning we would study the weather forecast and what tropical waves may be starting to form in the Atlantic. Our insurance would not cover us for any named storms so we had to be ready to sail out of the path of any hurricane as soon as one looked like it was heading towards Grenada. It was time to start heading west, away from the hurricane belt and start exploring new waters.

Steve went up the mast to check the rigging, a task we do each time we are preparing for a long passage. He noticed a crack in one of the tangs that attach the stays to the mast – these are very important as a failure in heavy weather could result in losing the mast. We needed to get it fixed and quickly if we were to keep to our planned departure day in a weeks time. Luckily the local riggers had four of the exact fittings in stock and our friends on Escapade had an industrial rivet gun they lent us, so armed with a little bit of knowledge, some confidence and lots of hope, Steve was hoisted up the mast to replace four of the six tangs. It took two days to complete the task under the hot sun and rolling anchorage of Benji Bay with Steve spending hours up the mast pushing and straining as he rivetted the tangs in place and while I sent bags up the mast of needed tools and supplies. It was huge achievement getting them all replaced and the rigging re-secured.

It was time to farewell our friends and leave the country that had won our hearts and given us such wonderful memories.   As we prepared to leave the green hilly shores of Grenada I reflected on why this small, fertile island had won our hearts so much and what lasting impressions we would take away with us.  It is the small colourful houses perched on hillsides sitting on long poles that don’t look strong enough to support the house; the lush rain forest that dominates every view; the public buses blaring loud rap music as they career along narrow bumpy roads where it is best not to look as the driver weaves through obstacles and overtakes on blind corners; it is the hairstyles of the women which are really more like works of art; it is the huge smiles on the faces of the children and men (women don’t tend to be as cheerful!); it is the warm, calm waters that we would swim in every day; it is the amazing varieties of fruit that roadside sellers try to tempt you into buying from them; it is the roadside rumshacks that come alive in the evenings as neighbours come together and catch up on the days events; and it is the fabulous group of people we were fortunate enough to call friends and spend special times with as we all sheltered from the threat of hurricanes in these idyllic waters.    How lucky are we to have spent three months on this beautiful island?    But, as the sun rose on Sunday 4 September, we finished off the final preparations to leave and slipped out of Benji Bay with horns blasting from Take Five and several friends coming to wave us goodbye.  The excitement of what lay ahead was tinged with sadness as we slowly headed out into the blue Caribbean sea that lay beyond the protective reef.   Our course was set for the west, to Bonaire and the new adventures and friendships that lay ahead.

Home from Home

Going home was something we had both looked forward to with growing anticipation. We missed our family and friends after a two and a half year absence and were looking forward to hugging our family, spending time with our friends and drinking lots of good coffee!

Although the excitement was building, the thought of spending two days travelling back to Auckland was far less appealing and I tried to suppress the growing sense of dread as the days became hours and the time of our departure arrived. As we flew over Benji Bay, I could have sworn I saw King Richard on the deck of the cottage, sipping a can of beer as he enjoyed a few days of peace and quiet on his own in our slice of paradise!

The flight was as awful as we had imagined it to be, missing our connecting flight to LA from Miami due to long delays at immigration, and having to spend an uncomfortable night trying to sleep on the floor in the airport while our pre-paid Air B&B in LA remained unused and unrefundable! However, the thought of the warm welcome that awaited us in NZ kept our spirits high.

We arrived in Auckland ahead of schedule and were first through the doors into the arrivals hall, surprising my daughter and Steve’s mum, with our speedy passage through immigration and customs. It felt so good to give and receive warm embraces to Rebecca and Joy and the memories of the flight slowly faded as the realisation sunk in that we were really back home with our loved ones.

Our time in New Zealand was spent catching up with family and friends – every day it seemed we were with different people, making the most of our time with our children and family. We travelled from Auckland to Christchurch, where I screamed with delight as my son, Jak, surprised us at the airport, confusing and alarming the crowd of people at the luggage belt! I loved being back in Lyttelton, staying with my wonderful, generous and beautiful family – Erin and Dave – and catching up with so many friends. While there I gave a talk to about 60 people at the Little Ships Club about our travels to date and was really surprised and happy to see so many old friends attending. Bex travelled from Wellington and we had one glorious evening with both my children with me for the first time in so long. After a few blissful days relaxing with Jak and Ju in French Farm – the location of ours and Jak and Ju’s weddings and the beautiful second home of Dave and Erin’s – we continued on to Wellington where both Bex and Steve’s son, David, live. The saying, “you can’t beat Wellington on a good day”, is so true and we were lucky enough to have several days of clear skies and bright sunshine. It was wonderful and comforting to see how settled both Bex and David were and once again, will treasure the time spent with them both.

Back in Auckland we mostly focused on Steve’s family and spent time with all his siblings, children and grandchildren. It meant so much to us that everyone took time out of their busy lives to create special memories with us – we will live off those memories for the next couple of years and beyond!

All too soon, it was time to pack our bags and prepare for the long journey back to Grenada and the growing list of boat jobs ahead of us! We were staying with my cousin, Brent, in his beautiful home when Brent and Sandy both came down with Covid, so we sadly had to keep ourselves away from them and only communicate at a distance with a staircase between us! We were returning with more luggage than we had brought, weighing ourselves down with much needed new clothes and boat gear that was cheaper and more accessible in NZ than Grenada.

Although very long, the return flight was not quite as painful as the outward journey, with no stressful tight connections to worry about. We arrived back in Grenada about 40 minutes late and sped through immigration and customs before being spat out into the hot humid temperatures of the Caribbean where Sue, our landlady, met us in her beat up old truck. She drove us down the rutted, washed out road leading to the apartment we had rented from her for the next week. It was a welcome relief to experience the cool air conditioned rooms as we looked out over Benji Bay and spotted the familiar boat of our friends Kim and Ann, moored just off the private jetty below our apartment. Benji Bay was now full of yachts spending the hurricane season sheltering in the protective paradise of Grenada. As we looked across the bay and watched the sunset and the colours in the sky change from blue to pink, red and orange, we felt like we were home.

That night we slept really well and the next morning Nathan, our Australian friend and neighbour who was doing up his boat in the same yard, gave us a ride so we could start working on Cerulean. The batteries were dead as the solar panels had not kept up with the draw of the dehumidifier, but apart from that, everything seemed in order. We worked hard for three weeks, moving back onto the boat a week after our return, draping the hatches, opening windows and companionway with mosquito netting to try and keep any of the numerous bitey things out of our living space. At night the swarms of mosquitos and no-see-ems became particularly bad and, when mixed with the heat, it became almost unbearable as we scratched, swatted and fanned ourselves throughout the evenings!

Our beautiful new stainless steel watertank was hoisted into place and then hidden under the seating as we carefully re-installed the furniture, solving the krypton-factor-ish puzzle as we tried to remember how everything had come apart, and reversing it!!! It was a huge relief when finally, everything slotted into place and we were able to restore the cushions on the seats and have our comfortable saloon back together! It’s funny how a small amount of furniture can make the space a home again.

Our time out of the water was sociable as we celebrated success and met fellow boatyard dwellers! Each evening we made good use of the endless supply of water and enjoyed long showers as we scrubbed off the days dirt, sweat and smells! One night we were woken to the sound of torrential rain, quickly shutting all the open hatches and returning to our stifling hot bed as we listened to the storm gathering outside. The wind whipped round the boats, shaking us in the cradle and we lay there, relieved we didn’t have to worry about anchors dragging but still concerned about things hitting us! It was later announced that this sudden storm was actually classified as a grade 1 hurricane with winds reaching over 80mph. It was slightly disconcerting how quickly the system developed with no prior warning as it was apparently an extremely difficult event to predict – the perfect storm of conditions, I guess!

The day of our launch arrived and we were ready. We had a new watertank installed which we had successfully tested for two weeks with no sign of leaks; a new water guage so we can easily see how much water we have in the tanks; new antifoul (although we did have a colour disaster with the blue stripe and had to changed it to black at the last minute), propeller serviced, small leaks found and remedied, boat polished and cleaned, sails serviced and repaired, chaps made for our new dinghy (donated to us by Kim and Ann and named KAM), repairs made to our sprayhood which were more preventative than anything, shower sealed, generator exhaust repaired and all through hull seacocks serviced. We felt ready and eager to get back on the water. The yard had let us know we would launch at 2pm, so I decided I would jump on a free bus to town and renew our cruising permit (which from this point forward is known as a cursing permit). As I was waiting for the bus, I got talking to a South African man named Bert and we shared sailing stories as we pondered whether the bus was going to come. No sooner had this been vocalised when a man pulled up beside us in his rental car and offered us a ride. Unsure where he was going, and feeling a pang of guilt that I’d already told Patrick, the bus driver, that I wanted a ride, I turned down the offer. We continued to wait until, eventually Patrick’s bus slowly approached the yard. As we hopped in, joining a couple who had already been collected from another marina, Patrick informed us that he had a problem with the bus and proceeded to lift the front seat to expose the engine which was obviously overheating but when Patrick removed the radiator cap, a great puff of steam rose up into the already hot bus! I voiced concern and questioned out loud whether this was a good idea to head to town when we would be launching in a few hours time. Patrick assured me it would all be fine and, sure enough, it did not take long for us to be on our way again, hurtling down the narrow, winding roads in true Grenadan style! Our next stop was Whisper Cove Marina, a small settlement not far from the apartment we had rented when we first returned to Grenada. At this point Patrick announced his bus was too sick to continue but he had called a friend who would drive us into town. As we stood waiting the couple on the bus decided to head into the cafe for a drink and we were joined by a Canadian husband and wife as we passed the time talking and laughing, while inside I was starting to get concerned about the amount of time left for me to get the permit and return to the boat. The replacement bus and young driver arrived and the four of us piled in to the the hot van and waited for the missing couple as we tried to extract them from the cafe! Bert, knowing my time constraints, had some stern words to say to them as we eventually sped away. The driver was even more frightening than Patrick and I couldn’t watch as he overtook on blind bends and beeped at any car infront of us who would not get out of his way. It was when we slowly drew to a halt on the side of the road, that I realised we had broken down again and Bert lent forward and said to me – “Remember that guy who offered you a lift? It was a sign and you should’ve taken it…..!” Not helpful! A few minutes later we were on our way again, catching up with all the traffic we had earlier overtaken as we sped down the road that the driver seemed to think was a formula one race track.

We arrived at the chandlery and, as the driver was paid based on the number of passengers he brought to the shop, I went inside after telling him I would not be returning on the bus! Bert followed me in and told me to return to the chandlery when I’d got my permit and we would share the cost of a taxi back to the boatyard as he didn’t rate his chances of getting back alive on the bus. With that I started to run the 1.5km in stifling heat and jandels to the customs/immigration office in Port St Louis. As I turned into the approach road a young guy in a golf buggy must’ve taken pity on the disheveled looking woman who ran like a seal out of water, and offered me a lift to the marina entrance. I hopped in, grateful for the chance to catch my breath and cool down in the shade of the covered buggy. Finally I was at the customs/immigration office and a small queue greeted me, followed by a man telling me the officer had left 10 minutes ago and had not been seen since…..! It was now 11.30 and we were due to launch in 2.5hrs and I still had to find a taxi, pick up Bert and get back to Clarkes Court. At this point I was about to leave and admit defeat when the officer slowly ambled back towards the office, unlocked the door and invited the first person in the queue inside. While I waited two other men joined the queue, with one recognising me as being from the boat in front of his in Clarkes Court. I cheekily asked if he was driving back there and he offered to drop me at the end of the very rutted lane that leads to the boatyard. I explained that I was meeting Bert and he said “no problem, we’ll go find him”. Relief!!! The permit only took five minutes to sort and we continued to talk while my new driver (Shayden) waited for his friend, a large Russian man named Igor, sorted his permit. By the time we reached the car, we were old friends and with the air con pumping, we headed back down the approach road to find Bert. Bert, in the meantime, had run several errands and was making his way to Port Louis so it was with surprise that I saw him walking towards us. I’m not sure who was more surprised when I threw the passenger door open as the car was still moving forward and yelled at Bert to jump in, which he deftly did and bounced in beside me as the car continued moving, not missing a beat! We all chatted on the way back until we got to the turn off and Shayden decided to continue down the road all the way to the boatyard, dropping us outside Cerulean to a somewhat bemused and confused Steve! It was an adventure but we now had our cruising permit and, after a short delay in our launch, we were afloat just 2.5hrs later on our way to find a quiet anchorage. As we left the slipway, Steve announced how surprised he was at the joy he felt being back on the water and that was music to my ears as we dropped the anchor just off Benji Bay, surrounded by boats belonging to friends. The wind was cool, the mozzies non-existent and we breathed a huge sigh of relief as we headed out in the dinghy to have a rum with friends to celebrate being back on the water!

A sail too far. Limping to Guadeloupe

The outline of the many islands that make up the Virgin group took along time to fade into the distance.   Cerulean was moving through the water well, but we were not making great speed over the ground.   I like to continually play with the sails to make sure we are making the best speed possible, but could not seem to get Cerulean moving as fast as I expected.   Then, just as the sun was getting low in the sky, our forward, and largest jib, started flapping, confusing me for a second, before I realised it was falling down.   A shackle attaching the top/head of the jib to the furler swivel, had broken, leaving the swivel at the top of the mast and the sail in the water.    Steve and I rushed forward and, in fading light and bumpy seas, pulled the sodden sail back on board.   Fortunately, as we have two jibs, we were able to continue sailing with our smaller Staysail up while we worked out what to do next!    We stowed the big jib in the forward cabin until we had better conditions for Steve to go up the mast to retrieve the swivel and halyard.     Our speed slowed even more and we bounced along, going an average of 4knots with the wind turning more southerly, so causing us to head further south than we wanted.    At this rate we would end up in Trinidad, but we kept positive and hoped the wind would go more easterly, or northerly for a while so we could make up some ground before having to tack.

During the night we experienced a number of squalls with the winds suddenly increasing from 17knots to 30knots with very little warning in the darkness of the surrounding sea and sky.   The boat and hydrovane managed the sudden changes in wind strength beautifully and, with full main and just the staysail out, we continued making steady progress towards the Eastern islands we had sailed past so quickly a couple of months earlier on our way to Antigua.   It soon became clear that what we thought was going to be, at most, a two day sail, was going to turn into a three day one as we were heading further south than we wanted and the winds dropped, making our progress painfully slow as the strong Westerly current was pushing us back another 2knots.   We decided to turn on the engine and, as the seas had flattened out considerably, Steve ventured up the mast so we could hoist the yankee again.    We had been experiencing a worrying noise coming from the prop shaft when the engine was in gear and recently this noise had become much louder.   While in St Martins, with the help of Mike from Zen Again, we traced the cause of the grating noise and had been nursing the offending part, hoping we could make it back to Grenada so we could fix the problem when we had the boat out of the water in a couple of months.    Steve had already started researching the required parts so in the meantime, we were trying to limit the use of the engine and keeping the revs down to as low as possible when we had to use the iron sail!

As we turned on the engine, we could hear that things were getting worse and the increase in noise was only matched by our growing concern as we were forced to turn off the engine and sit in no wind as we drifted further away from our preferred destination.    Fortunately we could see rain clouds ahead, and with the rain came squalls again, which turned out to be our friend, as we followed the clouds for a while and our speed increased.   At 3am on the third night, we were about 20NM off the coast of Montserrat when we tacked again, hoping the wind would back to the north, as forecast, so we could head straight for Guadeloupe.   As we progressed further south, our wishes were granted and the green hills of Guadeloupe were a welcoming sight as we gathered speed, heading towards the middle of the island.   Due to the high mountains, there is often a wind shadow to the west of the island and, when we were about 5NM away, the wind died completely.    We reluctantly turned on the engine, keeping the revs very low, and tried calling our friends, Mike and Nicki, on Zen Again, (who were already in Guadeloupe) on the off-chance they could a) hear us and b) have their radio on.    We were in luck and it was wonderful to hear Mike’s voice, directing us to their anchorage in Bouillante.  We later discovered they had only just turned on their radio after seeing us approaching on AIS. 

Bouillante is a small village with palm trees along the waterfront, nestled under high, tree covered hills.   A thermal power station in the south of the bay, provides a constant plume of steam and, with it, a faint smell of sulphur as warm thermal waters pour out into the anchorage, much to the enjoyment of locals who crowd the small bay at the weekend to enjoy a hot bathe in the already warm sea!

It took us a couple of attempts before the anchor gripped and then, once we were happy the anchor was solid, we tried, and failed, twice to check in to Guadelaupe – once taking the bus about 15 miles south to the capital city, Basse-Terre but could not find customs or immigration, or anything open for that matter.   The Town Hall, police station and most shops were closed so we returned from our failed mission with only a sim card and data to show for our effort.   The next day was Saturday so, together with Mike and Nicki, attempted to get a bus to Deshaies, about 15 miles in the opposite direction.   Once again we failed, as no buses were running and Bouillante does not have any taxis so we returned again to our boat, still flying the yellow Q flag to show we had not cleared customs yet.  

Back at the boat we called our “go-to” amazing friend and general hero, Richard, in the UK to pick his brains about the horrible grating noise we were getting when the engine was in gear.   After a lot of discussion, video conferencing and explaining, the resulting diagnosis found our situation to be even worse than we had feared, and we were advised to avoid using the engine at all cost.   I’m sure it’s not hard to imagine how we felt.   After spending so much work, time and money to ensure we had a reliable engine, we were now left with our worst case scenario of having no motor due to issues with our aquadrive thrust bearings, which essentially is a universal joint that connects the propellor shaft to the engine.   If this fails it could be catastrophic and, in effect, permanently damage the boat.   The risk was too great to even think about pushing our luck any further, but we had a number of issues to consider – whether we could get the required spares for a part that was already nearly 30 years old; if it was possible, how long it would take to have them delivered to the Caribbean; whether there was anyone with experience who could fit the parts, or at least oversee our work; and finally what the alternative was if we could not find the parts.    One thing was certain, we were currently anchored in one of the most isolated bays in the whole of Guadeloupe and, on talking to friends who are from the island, we realised we needed to get closer to where all the marine services are based – on the other side of the island in Pointe a Pitre.

On Monday morning, still not having checked in to the country, we waited for the sea breeze to arrive before sailing off our anchor and left the bay with Zen Again following close behind.   We headed to a group of islands at the very south of Guadeloupe, called Les Saintes, where we had been told it would be easier for us to access Pointe a Pitre due to regular ferry services with the mainland.   Once again, the sail took longer than we had anticipated as after about 5NM the wind died completely, spent about 10 minutes spinning around in every direction and then filled in from the west, which was where Mike and Nicki were, so they shot ahead of us as we, frustratingly sat becalmed for another 10 minutes! When the wind set in, we found we could not point as high as Zen Again so had to tack several times before getting a course into the channel which was scattered with fishing buoys. We arrived in Terre de Haut, the main island in Les Saintes, as it was getting dark and slowly tacked up the narrow channel towards mooring buoys that filled the bay in front of the attractive small town.   Luckily Zen Again had gone ahead and kept us informed of available buoys as we slowly edged our way towards them.   Mike guided us to a buoy and was there to help us secure our lines, which was a huge relief!   It was a few days later that we realised how lucky we were to have found a free mooring buoy as they were in hot demand and, in the week we were there, we never saw another empty mooring buoy in the evening. Maybe our luck was starting to change……

The next morning we, at last, checked in to the country and were able to drop our yellow Q flag, flying the French flag from our starboard spreader.   Checking in was the easiest yet, as it is all computer based and self service, so we completed the on-line form in an agents office, printed it off, had it stamped and signed and we were done!   No requirements to show papers, covid certificates, insurance or even passports.   Boom!

The islands of Les Saintes are the battle grounds of the biggest naval conflict fought by the English and French in the Caribbean in 1782.  The result was the building of a number of fortifications around the coast of the islands which still dominate the hillsides.    The islands are small but very popular with day trippers who clog up the narrow roads with electric bikes and golf carts so walking along the roads can be dangerous as they silently creep up behind you!   Iguanas and goats rustle through the fields and tiny colourful humming birds draw nectar from the many and varied colourful flowers that grow along the roadside.   The island was one of only a very few in the Caribbean which was not used for slavery as the poor soil was considered unviable for sugar plantations.

After exploring some of the island, our next task was trying to source the spare parts we desperately needed so we could use our engine again.   We carry a number of spares, but replacement thrust bearings are not a commonly needed item and, until they started to make a terrible grating noise, we had very little knowledge of what they were!   Now we knew more than we ever thought we’d need to know – every day being a school day!    We called in as much help as we could, asking advice and assistance from a number of different sources, trying to cover as many angles as possible.   In a moment of desperation, we had a look at eBay and, much to our surprise, there was an exact, brand new, full replacement for sale in the UK for a fraction of the price we would be able to pay normally and only slightly more than getting just the parts we desperately needed.  We checked with Richard in the UK who spent some time researching, checking measurements and then negotiating with the vendor on our behalf.   Less than 24hrs after first seeing the listing, we had bought the part and it was on its way to Richard so we could arrange for it to be transported to the Caribbean.   For once we felt the boat repair Gods were smiling down on us!

Easter had arrived, and with it came an email from a company who had agreed to fit the new part which they said we could have couriered directly to them.  They informed us they would need three full days to do the work and have the boat hauled out.   Although we were desperate, we were not that desperate, so after mulling over our options, we decided to continue on our journey south, without the engine.   As the boat was being hauled out in Grenada in about six weeks, it was a cost we could not warrant and, in addition, felt it was unnecessary as we were convinced the work could be done while we were still afloat.   We are a sailboat, after-all, so we would just make better use of the sails and allow extra time if the wind died…….!

We left Guadeloupe on Easter Monday, checking out using the on-line system from a shop in the centre of town.   It was very simple, but a little frustrating that we had to complete the exact same form as when we’d arrived with no ability to just access the original form and update our departure details.    Anyway, with the risk of being called a whinging pom, the system was much better than others we have experienced so I won’t knock it!

Just before 8am we hoisted our mainsail and sailed off the mooring buoy, with Zen Again closely following behind us.   It had been windy in the anchorage for two days and, once we were away from the shelter of the islands, the wind and seas picked up and we were soon crashing through the waves making good speed.   Cerulean does love these conditions and gave us a comfortable, if not a little wet, 4hr sail to Dominica.    As we rounded the final headland to Portsmouth, the main anchorage on the island, the wind dropped completely, spun in every direction and then, eventually, arrived with such force we were pushed right over on our side!   We sailed into the wide harbour, negotiating fishing buoys and boats as we tacked towards the town where our friends on Ruffian were already anchored having arrived a few days earlier.    We were welcomed to the bay by some helpful guides who suggested we pick up a mooring buoy, but on hearing we had engine issues, gave us “permission” to drop the anchor close to a fishing jetty. The bay was surrounded by tall hills covered in beautiful thick forest with the small colourful houses of Portsmouth strung out along the waters edge.    Ever since planning our time in the Caribbean, Dominica was top of the list of places we wanted to explore and we were excited about being here, reunited with good friends, knowing that fun adventures lay ahead of us.

Seduced by Virgins

Suz had been with us for two wonderful weeks.  During this time we had stopped working on the boat and felt like we were on holiday, enjoying the small things and relaxing without thinking about the growing list of boat jobs we needed to attend to.   We had collected Suz in Antigua and were dropping her off in the BVI’s f weeks later.   She had settled into the small forward cabin and was getting used to moving around the boat without knocking body parts.  Even the very wet dinghy rides we subjected her to did not faze her or remove the smile from her face.   It was now time to really test her resolve with her first overnight sail to St Maartin, 80NM to the west.   

Everything started calmly with a gentle easterly wind and full moon which lit up the skies and seas like a street lamp.   We knew the forecast was for more wind and had prepared with two reefs in the main to ensure we did not have to make too many sail changes during the night.   At around 10pm the wind started getting up and we were soon speeding along at 7knots in building seas.   We changed from the big jib to our small staysail as we were going too fast as, if we continued at this pace, would arrive in the dark, plus we wanted this night sail to be an enjoyable experience for Suz.   We continued making good progress with Suz soon retreating to the saloon to get some much needed sleep.   A couple of brown noddy birds joined us on the passage, sitting on the safety rail as they perched precariously, swaying as the waves built and hit the side of the boat.    Once the island of St Barthelemy (St Barts) came into view, both birds flew off, leaving us with just some small reminders of their stay on board for a few hours!  

Saint-Martin/Sint Maarten is split between France and The Netherlands.  We headed for the Dutch side as our friends, Nicki and Mike on ZenAgain, had recommended the anchorage as it was less rolly than on the French side and less obstacles under the water.   We anchored outside the bay and waited for the bridge to raise at 0930, calling the bridge controller to request permission to enter the lagoon.    We joined a line of catamarans, superyachts and similar size boats to us, as we all jostled for space in the channel so we could charge into the shallow lagoon and claim the best anchorage, as soon as the bridge opened!    We were the second in line and were asked to quicken the pace as we slowly progressed, keeping within the 5knots limit but apparently this was too slow!    We saw Nicki and Mike waving at us from their boat, as we followed their instructions towards the anchorage.   It took us several attempts before the anchor held and we felt confident we had a good grip in the sand in only 3m of water.    Once we were happy we were secure, the three of us jumped in the dinghy and went ashore to check in.   Fortunately no covid test was required and the process was quick as we had already completed all our details on-line through eSeaClear.    When we returned to the dinghy, a very large iguana was guarding it and lazily strolled off when we attempted to pass it! 

Nicki and Mike very kindly offered to spend the next day showing us around the island, guiding us on buses, exploring the French side with its fabulous bakeries and supermarkets, watching planes land and take-off from the runway that borders a beautiful beach, enjoying the wonderful food available in small cafes and explaining the best place to get the items we were keen to purchase to make the most of the duty-free shopping available on the island.   The only thing you notice when moving between the French and Dutch sides is the cellphone coverage improves on the French side and the pace of recovery from the devastating Hurricane Dorian in 2019 was much slower on the French side.   This is due to the French bureaucracy around proving ownership before providing money to rebuild or repair.   As most of the residents of the island are descendants of slaves and made homes out of the land that was deserted by rich overseas owners, when the slave trade was abolished in the 1800’s, very few had official papers proving they owned the land that had been in their families for generations.   This has held up progress and roads, houses, commercial buildings remain broken as a constant reminder of the destructive storm.   Meanwhile on the Dutch side, they took the attitude that it needed to be tidied up and those affected needed to be helped, so they just got on with repairing the infrastructure and clearing up the mess that was left behind.

Before leaving we took advantage of the well-stocked supermarkets and replenished our dwindling supplies of non-perishables as well as filling our tank with duty free fuel.   After five days we left St Martins in the early evening and set sail for the British Virgin Islands (BVI’s), about 95NM of beam reach sailing in a good 17-20knot breeze.   Once again a squall hit us in the middle of the night so we reefed the Yankee and I hand steered for the last part of the passage, enjoying the speed under clear skies and a bright moon.    We passed between Necker and Gorda Islands while it was still dark and then gybed to head down the western side of Gorda and into Sir Francis Drake Channel, just as the sun came up.   It was a beautiful introduction to the BVI’s as the sun slowly revealed the many islands surrounding us.

We picked up a mooring buoy in Sopers Hole on Tortola and, after paying US$50 each for a covid test in addition to visiting various officials to complete checking in procedures.  This involved making a payment at each step of the formalities but it was confusing what we were actually paying for, however at the end of it we were officially checked in and free to explore the BVI’s.  

There are about 40 islands that make up the Virgin Islands with most of them clustered together with just a couple (at most) miles separating each of them.   Several of the smaller islands are privately owned and landing on them without permission is not allowed.   The US Virgin Isles are made up of just four main islands and are much more populated than the remaining islands of the BVI’s.   This makes the BVI’s a much more appealing cruising ground and is hugely popular with American tourists who charter yachts for a week’s holiday.   In turn, this has made the BVI’s a less attractive place to visit for longterm cruisers due to the many beautiful bays now festooned with mooring buoys to cater for the charter boats and making anchoring challenging.   Fortunately, if you look hard enough, there are still quiet bays that charter boats seem to avoid and our mission was to seek these out!

Over the next few days we sailed to Jost Van Dyke where we were first introduced to the cocktail called “Painkiller” made from local rum and where we enjoyed the beautiful calm, blue waters of a quiet bay while relaxing in the beautiful isolated environment.   We found a lovely anchorage on Peter Island which we enjoyed with just two other boats, listening to the birds in the nearby trees as we anchored close to the shore.    Next we sailed to Virgin Gorda and, after a brief stop at “The Baths” – a natural swimming hole surrounded by large granite boulders, we anchored off Moskito Island behind a long reef and in front of a private white sandy beach.   The Island is one of two islands owned by Sir Richard Branson and accommodates three luxury, and very exclusive, resorts.   We people-watched as guests were delivered to the island by private water taxi and ushered to their accommodation.   Necker Island was within sight of our anchorage with three new wind turbines dominating the islands skyline.   We swam off the boat and felt smug that we were enjoying the same privileges as those paying over US$5000 a night just a few feet away!  

After five weeks with us, Suz’s departure date was fast approaching and she wanted to treat us to a special night out.   We had chosen Saba Rock as the perfect place to celebrate as we could pick up a mooring buoy just outside the restaurant, making our dinghy ride back to the boat much easier than the last time we returned from a night out in Barbuda when I got dumped in the sea by the crashing surf!   We definitely made the right choice of restaurant as the location, atmosphere, service and food was first class.   We had a memorable night filled with laughter, excellent food, a few painkillers and conversation that comes so easily with good friends.   We will all remember that night for the rest of our days!

We sailed to Trellis Bay on Beef Island and picked up a mooring buoy in the small bay that was littered with neglected boats, once again evidence of the destructive hurricane.   The main airport for the BVI’s was within sight, so when it came time to deliver Suz to the small international airport, we took the dinghy ashore and walked down a small dusty path to the departure lounge.   We still had sand in our shoes as we said our farewells.   It had been a wonderful few weeks, exploring new islands together, enjoying each other’s company and we loved sharing our adventures with a dear friend whom I have known and cherished for over 40 years.

We waved to Suz’s small plane as it flew over Cerulean, heading for Antigua to connect with a transatlantic flight back to London.   We left Trellis Bay and had an exciting sail to Anegada, a low lying island in the north of the BVI’s, catching a yellow fin tuna along the way while dodging rain squalls bringing 25-30knots of wind in short bursts.   About 3NM from the island, the sea shallows to below 10m and then gradually gets shallower until we were in about 4m of water off a beautiful deserted white sandy beach on the south west end of the island.   We joined three French boats that were already anchored in the bay and sat out a few more rain showers which brought strong winds and tested the hold of our anchor.     Steve dived on the anchor and found it firmly embedded in the sand so we slept peacefully after feasting on the fresh tuna.

We woke to clear skies – a perfect day to go ashore and explore.   The Western part of Anegada is a huge fully enclosed salt lake with just a narrow strip of land separating the lake from the Caribbean Sea.   It is a haven for birdlife and often flocks of pink Flamingos can be found in the ponds.  Sadly there were none to be seen when we visited, although we were told we should return at sunset.  We did, however, see lots of other interesting birdlife as we walked along the long, straight, empty concrete slab road in the blistering heat – The Mockingbird, Grey kingfisher, smooth-billed Ani, Elaenia and others we could not identify, darted between the trees chirping and squawking at us as we unintentionally disturbed their nest building. 

We were anchored a short dinghy ride from a reef which broke the surface of the water in places, so went over to snorkel in the warm water.   Visibility was not great and it was heartbreaking to see so much dead and bleached coral but a real highlight for me was swimming in a large school of large blue and yellow fish that appeared all around me.  My initial fear of being surrounded by large fish, soon turned to total wonder as they darted around me, turning in synchronised harmony as they moved with the current.   Every so often I poked my head above the water and squealed at Steve as he waited for me in the dinghy, confusing him as he couldn’t make out if I was in trouble or enjoying myself!!!  

After a short stay anchored in the blue waters of Anegada we decided to return to Virgin Gorda before the anchorage was invaded by a large flotilla of charter boats we could see approaching the quiet bay.   The weekend appears to be the best time to visit Anegada as it is generally the weekend that most charters start and finish.   This means that mid-week is the busiest time in the bays around Virgin Gorda and Anegada so we tried to avoid being in the popular bays over that period. 

We had a fast and glorious sail back to Spanish Town on Virgin Gorda where we visited customs and immigration to check out of the country, before continuing our sail up the coast to be as far north as possible for our sail back to the eastern islands.   We anchored in a beautiful, shallow and quiet bay between Eustatia and Prickly Pear islands, just south of Necker.   I wished we could have spent longer there but we had one final swim in the warm waters of the BVI’s before preparing for the 210NM sail SE to Guadeloupe.   We knew it would be a difficult passage as the wind and current was against us, but if we had known about the many problems we would encounter along the way, I wonder if our smiles would have been as wide and our hearts as full, as we bade the BVI’s a fond farewell.

The Spice Islands

Steve woke me at 5am to start my final watch of our Atlantic Crossing.   The lights of Grenada sparkled in front of me as we made fast speed towards them.   It was still dark and, not wanting to arrive before light, I slowed the boat down, reefing the main and then the jib, until we only had the main up as I tried to spill some speed, but it seemed Cerulean was as keen to arrive as we were! 

At 8:30am we picked up a mooring buoy in Martin’s Bay, the designated waiting area for arriving yachts who were yet to clear customs and health checks.   We celebrated as we turned off the engine and let the enormity of what we had achieved sink in!  

As Steve inflated the dinghy, I made us a hearty breakfast using the rest of our fresh eggs, and we sat in the cockpit in the hot morning sun, looking out over the clear water to the tree covered hills that surrounded the small harbour of St George’s.   There were no big highrise hotels or apartments to spoil the view, just lots of multicoloured houses that clung to the gentle slopes, surrounded by thick trees.     Looking south there was a long sandy beach with a few hotels close to the shore, but not too commercial.   A large cruise ship was in the port and we could see the passengers being disgorged and transported off in different directions to make the most of their one day in Grenada.  

We jumped into the dinghy and headed to the Port Louis Marina, spotting a small turtle in the water as we bumped over the short waves towards the sheltered harbour.   Our first stop was to get health clearance and we visited a lovely man sitting under the shade of a gazebo on the waterfront.   After examining our documentation, asking for a recent PCR test (which we couldn’t supply) he stamped an official document and handed it to us.   We were in a little bit of disbelief that it had been so easy to clear through and had to be told a few times that we were now able to proceed to customs and immigration, which we quickly did.    They were in an office a few steps from the gazebo and, after completing a long form and handing over all the other necessary documentation including our customs clearing out papers from Mindelo, our passports were stamped, cruising permit issued for a small fee and we were free to explore Grenada!  

We took the dinghy into town and walked the streets so we could get a feel for the place.   It was the start of a long weekend as Monday was Grenada Independence Day so people, cars, buildings and boats were preparing for the celebrations as the locals proudly displayed their national colours of yellow, green and red.   As we walked the narrow pavements, minibuses drove past beeping their horns as a way to ask whether we needed a ride – fares are a flat fee of EC$2.50pp which equates to less than US$1, to get anywhere from 1mile to 30miles along their route.   The hot muggy morning soon became a wet muggy morning as we dodged rain showers which didn’t make us any cooler as the heat seemed to intensify during the day.  

Over the course of the next few days a number of boats we knew arrived and our time seemed to be one long celebration of our joint achievements.   We met old friends and new ones as we all shared the same realised dream with stories from our passages, advice, learnings and laughter.   After a few days of sitting on a rolly mooring outside St Georges, we decided to leave the clear waters and turtles we saw each morning, and head to Prickly Bay about 8NM on the islands rugged south coast.   This coastline has numerous long, protected bays and is dotted with small islands, lovely beaches and calm, clear water.   In short, a boaters paradise!  

We explored a few of the small protected bays along the south coast, with boats from all over the World that looked like they had been left on mooring buoys for some time.  The water was turquoise, clear and warm and the white sands of the many beaches that nestled between the mangroves were empty except for an occasional shack that housed a small bar.   Cruisers met there playing cards and backgammon as they sipped beers in the late afternoon heat.  

Bus rides were interesting.   We really felt we put our life in the hands of the driver as he sped through the narrow, bumpy roads with a van full of other trusting people.   To alert him to stop, passengers either clicked their fingers or banged on the roof, at which point the driver would veer abruptly to the left and slam his foot on the brake while very loud rap music blared through the van!  

I was excited to see large Frigate birds flying around the boat.  They are huge birds with fork tails and 2.3m wing span.   It was amazing to see them swoop around us as they hunted for food or chased other seabirds to snatch their fish from them.   It may have been these magnificent birds or the less impressive, but equally fun Boobies, that unloaded on the boat and we were cleaning up their mess for days afterwards!!

Granada is known as the Spice Islands and while on a tour with new friends, we saw why.  Our informative driver pointed out the many plants and trees growing wild in the forest – nutmeg, cinnamon, ginger, cocoa as well as banana, mango, French cashew (a fruit) and papaya.   The law is that if fruit is hanging over public property and you can reach it, it’s yours and with over 160 different varieties of mango growing wild in Grenada you’d be unlucky to go hungry when foraging for food!

We visited a waterfall with fresh water cascading down rocks into a deep natural pool which screamed out for Steve to jump into – which he did with glee and grace, several times!   On to a cocoa plantation and chocolate manufacturer where we had a tasting and short talk about the chocolate manufacturing process from nut to seed.   We sucked on a cocoa seed and tasted the butter, buying lots of the delicious dark chocolate made from cocoa grown on the island by small holding farmers which made it taste even sweeter!    Then on to the heart of the island – Grand Etang Lake, a crater lake in an extinct volcano and 530m above sea level.   It is surrounded by thick jungle and I wish we had had more time to walk up to the crater rim but this will have to wait for another visit!

We bade farewell to our friends on Ilanda and Juliana and headed up the west side of the island, picking up a mooring buoy in a marine protected area in a bay just north of St Georges Harbour.   There is an underwater sculpture park in the bay so in the morning we jumped in the warm, clear water and snorkelled over to the park.   My overwhelming feeling was great sadness at seeing so much dead coral.  In fact there was no coral left, just the skeletons of a once majestic living organism lay below us with a few colourful fish darting through the water.    As a large tourist boat arrived to disgorge their swimmers, we swam back to the boat, had breakfast and sailed north to the small island of Carriacou or more precisely to the small, beautiful, tropical paradise of Sandy Island.  This little island consists of a beautiful fine white sand beach, palm trees and the clearest blue water you can imagine.   It is the scene used to sell tropical destinations that commuters stare at while riding the tube to work on a dreary day and here we were sitting on our boat, looking at the reality of the tropical paradise.   It felt good, although it was incredibly windy so the only movement between boats were the pelicans who were blown off course and landed on our bow, the Boobies who made some clumsy attempts to dive in to catch fish which resulted in a bird equivalent of a belly flop and the odd turtle that poked its head above the turquoise waters for a short while before diving again.   It was a magical place and we stayed for two nights until the wind dropped and we headed into the main harbour on Carriacou, Tyrell Bay to explore a little of the island.

Since arriving in The Caribbean we have been making plans for where we could spend the hurricane season which starts on 1 June and covers an area from Grenada in the South to South Carolina, USA in the North.   If there is a named storm in this region between 1 June to 30 November, our insurance will not cover any loss or damage we may incur, so if we stay within this belt we must be able to move out of harms way quickly.   The last time Grenada was hit by a hurricane was in 2004 so it’s a place lots of cruisers head to as it is easy to sail further south should a storm be forecast.   We have some big projects to undertake on the boat so have been gathering names of prospective people who may be able to do the work.   It became clear that we needed to meet these people and let them see the boat so we could get a proper quote, so the decision was made to head back to mainland Grenada while we had the opportunity.    After spending four glorious days in Carriacou, we retraced our route and returned to the main island to meet with tradesmen, wash the boat and gather our thoughts!

Our last few days in Grenada were spent socialising, doing boat jobs, meeting tradesmen, swimming and getting the boat ready for when we collect our first visitor in a few days time.   For now, we are checked out to leave this beautiful island and have negative covid tests which will allow us entry into other islands.    When we checked into Grenada a few weeks earlier, the health officer said to us, “A word of warning, Grenada is a big magnet.  Once you have been here, you will be drawn back!”   He was not wrong.   This is still a virtually unspoilt paradise with lovely people, protected anchorages and good sailing.   We are already making plans to return here and spend more time exploring.  For now, we will sail the 300 miles to Antigua where we will collect a friend and explore a different part of the Caribbean together.

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.

Lanzarote – black, white and everything inbetween

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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