Travel – Page 4 – HandsOnDeck

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.

Animal Magic in the Gambia

Gambia is an experience we will never forget – beautiful, dirty, happy, sad, calm and wild, it is a country of contrast that is rich in so many things, but poor in wealth. Read on as we discover more about this small, friendly country.

When we first met Fi and Iain they shared with us their plans to explore Gambia and, after a few days of meeting, suggested we join them on the adventure. We were completely unaware of what Gambia offered and, I have to admit, even had to look up on a chart to see where it was! Iain and Fi told us about the amazing wildlife up the river and how it was their intention to go and find the hippos and monkeys they had heard about from a small number of other sailors who had ventured to the upper stretches of the river where the salt water turns into fresh and the big animals live. We were sold the dream and we lapped it up and swallowed it, hook line and sinker and now our ability to be spontaneous and have flexible plans was being rewarded in spades.

Our experience so far in Gambia had been fantastic and we had reached the point that our senses were almost in overload after the time we spent at Bombale school, the amazing birds we had seen and, of course the crocodiles, monkeys and sea otter at Lamin Lodge. Now, as the river water turned fresh, we were entering hippo country and even if we saw nothing, we would still have had a truly memorable visit to this beautiful country.

We were heading for Deer Island and after motoring for about 7hrs, we anchored in shallow water in a gap between two island. That night we had our first experience of hippos, with a couple close to us making deep noises that sounded like horses blowing out through their lips and then deep groaning sounds. It was a surreal experience to sit in our cockpit, enclosed by a large mosquito net which looked like a middle eastern princes’ harem tent as it fell in folds from the bimini (cover over the steering wheel) and protected us from mosquito’s, tsetse flies and other horrible tiny biting things! We had a bright moon but could not actually see the hippo’s, just hear them.

Our journey continued up the river, which was now completely fresh water until we came to the small settlement of Kuntaur. As we approached loud music was blaring from the settlement side of the river, amplified by a large music system and speakers although we could not tell where it was coming from. As we circled looking for a good place to anchor, away from the noise, Fi came on the radio and reported she had seen a hippo on their starboard side. We were not far behind them and, sure enough, the hippo emerged from the depths of the muddy river and looked at us. We were about 30m away from it, so we spun around and found an anchorage a safe distance away so we could observe him. It was incredibly exciting to not only hear, but see the hippo as it ate, swam and wallowed in the mud. At one point he almost dried out in the low tide and allowed the afternoon hot sun to dry the mud on its back. It was a huge privilege to watch this magnificent animal and that night, despite the loud party across the river, it stayed close by, at one point coming between us and the river bank to feed further down stream.

The next morning we discovered, while walking through Kuntaur, that the music was a naming ceremony for a new born baby – a celebration that occurs at least twice a month, so the hippos must be used to the noise! We landed the dinghy at a lodge and was surprised to find a baby baboon tied to a tree. Apparently the lodge had found the baby and “saved” it, although the poor thing was terrified and obviously did not feel it had been rescued. The lodge had called a ranger from the animal sanctuary and by the time we returned it had been collected. Apparently the mother had been killed and the baby would not survive on its own. Very sad to see, but we later found out it had gone to Baboon Island which will release the baby back into the wild once it can fend for itself. Apparently the Baboons are a common sight, coming into the town each morning to scavenge food at the markets.

Close to Kuntaur are Wassu standing stones, dating back to between 750-1000AD. Built of locally mined laterite they were burial circles for royalty and warriors with the tallest stone marking the king’s grave. It is believed that his wife/wives were also buried at the same time, regardless of whether they were already alive or dead, along with all his possessions. Warriors were buried clutching their weapon also with their worldly goods surrounding them. It was an interesting place, located in a field outside of the town and has not been developed, or protected for that matter, but feels just like it must have felt thousands of years ago. Locals still come to the site and place small stones on top of the standing ones when they want a dream to come true.

While on the walk we saw lots of birds which were later identified as Bearded Barbet, Abasin Roller, Senegal Cuckal, African Jakara and a night heron, which looked just like a flying penguin! Walking back to the boat with beautiful fresh tapalapa we met a farmer tending his field of rice. He explained that this rice is native to Gambia and provides two crops per year. The field is flooded naturally by the river at high tide and all work is done by hand as they can’t afford machinery. A hippo can destroy one paddy field in one night, so farmers are not too keen on the large population of hippos that live in the vicinity.

On the dinghy ride back to the boat the hippo popped up very close to Cerulean which forced us to retreat rather quickly to Ruffian until we felt it was safe to try again! Once on the boat we had a spectacular view of the hippo, until we became a little blasé about having a wild hippo as our neighbour! The hippo lay on the muddy bank and baked in the hot sun, just a few meters from us. A couple of monkeys came down to the river bank – but not too near to the hippo – and sat cleaning themselves and each other for a while. It was a fabulous display of wildlife in the comfort of our mosquito netted cockpit!

We motored on just a few miles to the furthest point up river we were going, Baboon Island which marks the start of The Gambia River National Park. Baboon island in the middle of the river is about 2miles long and covered in dense native forest. A chimpanzee sanctuary has been established here and the breeding programme has been very successful. The programme started with 8 and there are now 125 chimpanzees on the island, not all were bred there as some were rescued from other countries. We met one of the eight rangers who look after the national park with very limited funding from the government. Modo was a lovely young guy who was obviously passionate about his role and the animals he looks after. It seemed an impossible task for such a small number of rangers to police, care for and manage the park and animals, as well as educate local children on the importance of looking after the safety of wild animals and their environment. Each night they feed the chimpanzees and monitor their health and development, knowing each one by name but they are by no means tame and can be very vicious. Some interesting facts we learnt about Chimpanzees:

Their lifespan is approx 50yrs
Once females are 14yrs they can start reproducing
Gestation period in 9 months
Multiple births are very rare and only one off-spring in 3 years
They build a new nest every night in the trees for the babies and females while the males keep guard. Each morning the nest is destroyed as they do not like mites.
They eat meat only once a week, maximum – like fish and chip Friday, but in their case it is the Red Colobus monkey which is in good numbers on the island and we were lucky enough to see one.
Other monkeys and apes swim, but a chimp does not.

Modo took us for a walk up a nearby hill, identifying numerous birds as we climbed to the vantage point and looked over the meandering river and islands. We looked down on a wet paddock where hippo often wallow in the mud, although not that day but we were not complaining as we had seen, and heard, plenty of hippos. As we motored along the river several popped their heads above the water to observe us as we glided past.

It was not possible for us to go any further up the river, for many reasons. There are cables across the river that we could not pass under, the river shallows although is still navigable and time was ticking on our visa, so we needed to start the journey back down the river to Banjul. Over the next few days we enjoyed some lovely sails as we made our way downstream towards the dreaded bridge. This time we would have the tide against us, but current with us at low tide, which meant if we had the calculations wrong, we would find it difficult to stop the boat before hitting the bridge. Once again, Steve went up the mast and we progressed towards the bridge. The water level markers we had photographed on the way up, showed the tide was lower than when we had previously been under the bridge, which gave me some confidence, however as we were approaching Steve commented that it looked really close and was touch and go whether we would get under. Not wanting to look up but doing it anyway, my sense of judging height v’s clearance was completely our of whack and it looked like Steve was going to end up on top of the bridge. Fortunately we both held our nerve and we made it under without damaging Steve or the boat!

We stopped in the small settlement of Albreda which is close to James Island where we anchored on the way up river. Albreda is believed to be the place where the author of Roots ancestors came from. It has a very interesting slave museum and we were guided through the village by Lamin who was very helpful and informative. As we came out of the museum we noticed Cerulean was not where we had anchored her and she was still dragging her anchor heading towards a fish farm. Steve and I jumped into Ruffian’s fast dinghy and Iain expertly steered us at high speed in strong winds and bouncy waves as we chased Cerulean across the shallow harbour. My heart was bounding as we watched our home being tossed about, out of control. We knew we had been lucky – it could have been so much worse and my toes curl when I think about it. We re-anchored, although it took a few attempts to get the anchor to grab the bottom and while Steve went back with Iain to finish lunch, I stayed on board.

We sailed back to Lamin Lodge and was welcomed back like old friends by Momodo (Manager of Lamin Lodge) and Karim (our wonderful boat helper). We spent a very special Christmas at Lamin Lodge with Karim taking us shopping for fresh fish on Christmas Eve – an experience all of us will remember for the busy roads, crowds of people, small street stalls, colourful clothes of the women and a big sign which read, “Be Covid Aware. Avoid large crowds!” below a very busy street scene! Although the country is mostly Muslim, Christmas is a public holiday and everyone seemed to be making the most of the festivities. Our Christmas day was spent with Iain, Fi and John, all fellow sailors and explorers. Lunch was on board Cerulean and as the sun beat down on us, we talked, drank and laughed until dark.

On Boxing Day Fi and I met Momodo for an early morning walk through the nearby market garden and rice fields to the Elephant Tree – a beautiful large tree that stands in a small wood with large roots that cascade down the trunk and a hollow centre which has been made into a shelter. The tree is a Kapok or Cotton tree as the seed pods produce a fluff which locals use to make pillows. The seeds are used for soaps and fertilising the gardens and the flowers are a rich source of nectar for bees.

As we walked, Momodo pointed out the various birds we saw, which were many, varied and colourful. We passed women working in the fields, bending over, keeping their backs very straight and bottoms up, as they planted, weeded and tended to the fertile gardens. A man was collecting juice from a palm tree, using a hoop made of bark to hold him as he climbed to the top of the tree. The tree had been tapped and bottles collected the precious liquid which is used to make a local drink. On the walk we saw Papaya trees, wild chilli’s growing and lots of local rice in the fields. The rice is picked, smashed and then separated out from the husks by throwing the grains in the air from a large round container and allowing the wind to blow the husks away. We had seen an old woman expertly doing this when we were up river but, because everything is still done by hand from sowing to picking to filtering out the husks, it is a slow and time consuming process for a country whose stable diet is rice. Gambian rice is excellent, pure and unbleached but they import huge amounts of rice from the USA to ensure there is sufficient food for the population. This has led to rice fields being left unpicked as farmers can not compete on price.

After the walk we met with Senna who had agreed to give us a lesson on cooking Gambian food. He took us shopping for the ingredients in the dusty streets of Lamin where people greeted us with a friendly shout and children came running out to see us. Back at the lodge Fi and I worked with Senna preparing the food over a charcoal fire in a big cast iron pot. We made Domada – a traditional peanut stew with fresh fish and whole chilli’s. There was enough to feed all the workers (and a lot of people who just hangout there!), which we did. After eating the “brothers” had huge respect for us and greeted us warmly with huge smiles.

We had been closely watching the weather and a good window was being forecast for us to leave Gambia on Tuesday 28 December. We motored back to Banjul the day before departing to complete the check out procedure with Mahmoud, who had helped us check in. After a slightly rocky start with customs refusing to stamp our clearance form without us paying them 500 Dalisi per boat, we proceeded to immigration without being separated from any of our cash! Immigration were lovely and pleased with the huge supply of pens left them by Ruffian!

It was time to do the final preparations to leave and start heading west, first to Cape Verde to reprovision, and then to the Caribbean. As we prepared the boat we reflected on our three weeks in Gambia and month in West Africa. It had been an experience which will probably change the way I live, think and prioritise things for years to come. In a country full of beautiful people from the babies tightly bound to the backs of their mothers, to the old men who are tightly bound to the politics of this country – whether religious or otherwise. It is a country on the verge of either great things, or disaster and so dependent on those in power making the right decisions, not just for them but for the people they represent. This nation lives off the fish they can catch, the food they can grow and the herbal medicines they harvest from the forests. If one of those building blocks falls over, the whole lot will topple. I will miss the cheerful smiles and waves as we pass by, the children clambering to hold my hand, the still anchorages in the mangroves, the amazing birdlife that surprised me every day, the opportunity to see rare animals up close, the daily tapalapas delivered to the boat fresh each morning, the regular calls of “Boss Lady” from familiar faces at Lamin Lodge, the colourful sunrises and sunsets and the dawn chorus that greeted the day. I have loved Gambia and, although I know I will not be back, I hope that Gambia stays with me for years to come.

Photo credit – most of the amazing animal/bird photos were taken by Ruffian. Check out their fabulous blog on Ruffian.uk

Out of Europe and in to Africa

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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!