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El Hierro – Saving the best for last

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Porto Santo – our first taste of island life

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In, out, shake it all about

Life living on board a boat tends to go in ebbs and flows.  Some days are relaxed when we can enjoy exploring new places; a few days are filled with elation when we manage to complete jobs which may have taken a few attempts to complete; others are filled with frustration when, despite endless research and planning, nothing goes to plan, some are very social when we meet new people, or old friends visit and finally a few days are stressful as we might be “sailing in unchartered waters” and need to repair/work out how to do things on our own or enter new, unfamiliar harbours.   Fortunately, at the moment we have an army of experienced and knowledgeable people on hand who can help us with the latter while we get on with the former!

After a few days sheltering from some strong Easterly winds up the beautiful Truro River, waiting to find out what the next move was on fixing our prop, Richard (our trusted electrician and master of all trades), secured us a place at Pendennis Marina in the centre of Falmouth.   We had a number of jobs to complete left over from before we launched and a couple of niggly issues that needed to be resolved. 

Billy, our go-to marine electronics guy, visited us when we arrived to try and work out why our depth sounder kept losing signal – an annoying and dangerous trait we needed to get fixed as it seemed to happen at the worst possible times leaving us to guess the actual depth which is not an ideal situation, especially considering my recent history!   In addition to this, we had Roy visit us to service our fire extinguishers.  Roy was wonderful and came up with some good alternative solutions for our engine bay automatic extinguishers which saved us a substantial amount of money while increasing the range of the extinguishers if there was a fire.

Richard rode in on his white steed (read “van”) on Friday afternoon and set about completing the short, but essential, list of electrical jobs we had identified.   Three days later we helped Richard pack up his tools after he completed the list of essential tasks, including fixing the watermaker (elation) which turned out to be a very lucky find as a couple of wires were arcing and a fuse had become so hot it had started melting, and finish wiring/installing our final solar panel.   With everything now working as it should, we decided to remain in the marina for a couple of extra nights as strong winds were forecast and it seemed pointless having a few stressful nights on anchor when we had the opportunity of a protected, safe berth.

Cafes and bars with outside seating opened in mid-April and Falmouth was seeing an increasing number of visitors.   We met some friends (social), Helen and Mick, who were visiting their daughter in Falmouth over the early Spring Bank Holiday weekend; invited William and Louise (social) over to the boat for coffee and caught up with Bea and Andy for a drink in a nearby bar.   While in town Steve managed to buy a particular Cornish pasty he had been hankering after from our local café, after several earlier failed attempts as we had arrived too late and they had already sold out.   We called in early and, much to Steve’s hungry joy, found there was one still available.   I could almost see his mouth dripping with anticipation at the thought of devouring this much looked forward to pasty.  We started walking back to the boat with Steve eating the pasty which was happily living up to his expectations.   He was about to take a bite from the remaining half when a large seagull suddenly appeared from behind him, swooped down and with incredible accuracy, took the rest of the pasty, just as Steve was about to bite down on it – all done with such precision and so fast, the gull did not even touch Steve in the process! 

Bea and Andy invited us for dinner on our last night in the marina.   We had a lovely evening together with lots of conversation, laughter, good food, great company and maybe a little drink or two!   Our times together are always so special and I have loved and valued the long winter we have spent with them both.   Their company, patience and love has been wonderful and we feel humbled by their generosity.   This was almost certainly the last time we will spend a full night with them on this trip and the thought of not knowing if/when we will share such special times with them again makes my heart lurch and throat ache.  Bea and Andy have sold their boat and bought a mobile home so they can visit their daughter and grandchildren in Northern Ireland as well as hopefully head to Europe in the middle of May. 

Big winds continued to buffer the Cornish coastline so we returned to our previous bolthole up the River Truro while we waited to be notified of our next haul out date.   We had been in touch with the owners of the sister boat to Cerulean called Shadowfax who were visiting Falmouth.   We made our way up the river and dropped anchor next to them before catching up with Tim and Emmie on board Cerulean (more social).   It was lovely to meet them as we had been in touch with each other for over a year and we had followed and listened to their exciting sailing adventures to far off places in their lovely boat.   The two boats have the same layout but, because Seastreams were privately commissioned, each boat has a very different feel and design features.     Tim flew his drone and took some wonderful pictures of our boats sharing a beautiful anchorage.  The next day we were joined by Remi, another Seastream 43 but this time a MK2 so a little older and a ketch (two masts).   It was a privilege to have the three boats together for the first time and share experiences, hear sailing plans and learn more about these wonderful boats.

One day, while Steve and I sheltered from the cold rain and wind we heard a twang and then thud outside.   A strange noise on a boat always puts you in high alert and I spun around to see two red webbed feet sticking up on the deck.   A duck had tried flying through our rigging and must have mistimed his flight, hitting the starboard shroud with a twang and hitting the deck with a huge thud.  Sadly it did not survive the experience and we now had a dead duck bleeding on the deck!   We were in a quandary – as we don’t eat meat any more and couldn’t deal with the gutting and plucking of a (still warm) dead duck, do we keep it and offer it to someone else or give it a burial at sea?   Before I could decide, Steve threw the recently deceased mallard into the water and we watched it float away!   A short while later, when retelling the story, we regretted the decision as several people would have been keen of the gift of the beautiful bird.

Our first, multi-staying guests arrived in early May and we welcomed Marion and Suzanne on board (more social) as we collected them from Port Pendennis Marina.  I shared a house with Suz and Marion in Cambridge in the early 80’s and Steve and I had travelled back to the UK 18 months earlier for Suz’s 60th birthday celebrations.   Knowing the weather was going to be bad for the next couple of days, we took advantage of the light winds and sailed up the Truro River.  Suz and Marion had taken the train from London and we were all excited at being able to spend four days on the boat – the longest time we’ve had together for nearly 40 years!    The weather forecast was accurate and during the night the heavens opened, the temperature dropped and the wind spun us around in our sheltered anchorage, keeping the four of us hunkered down in the cabin together.   Unfortunately Marion became more and more unwell and we all became extremely concerned about her as her temperature sore and she was obviously not her normal happy self.    The next day, with Marion still not well, we headed back to Falmouth and picked up a mooring close to the town centre so, if needed we could seek medical help.   Suz, Steve and I were able to get off the boat, leaving Marion to rest while we went for a walk.   

Suz and Marion’s stay was extended by two days due to all trains being cancelled on the GWR line which covers SW England long distance travel.  This was a bonus for several reasons – more time together, Marion could continue recovering from her bug (not Covid!) and we could enjoy the improved weather and sail to other bays.   When they left us after six days together, it was with sadness but also happy in the knowledge they had experienced a taste of what our life is like living on anchor.  

While Suz and Marion were with us, we were hauled out for the third time to try and discover why the engine was not performing as we would expect.    Just before we were due to relaunch we managed to talk to a very informative man at Darglow, the manufacturer of our propeller.  He informed us that we had the wrong gearbox ratio and our current propeller was too big for the gearbox on the new engine.   As we launched I was still talking to the technician on the phone and passed this information on to the engineer who had installed the new engine.   Fortunately, after an initial stressful and upsetting time letting the discovery sink in, it was agreed they would cover the cost of a new gearbox and haul us out again to fix the problem.  

After spending a lovely final evening in the company of Bea and Andy and Louise and William we were lifted again for what, we hoped, was the final time before leaving the UK a few weeks later.   In the last 12 months we have been lifted out the water five times, which is four times more than most other boats, so our hopes were high that this time everything would  go smoothly. Oh, how naive we were!!!!

Sh*tty Sh*tty Bang Bang!

The day we launched, and for a few days afterwards, our spirits were flying high.   We headed up the River Fal towards Truro and anchored in a quiet bay where we watched a playful seal catch a big fish in the clear waters.   All felt good, although cold, and we were glad to have “Tommy”, our new heater, pushing out warm air as we relaxed, read and occasionally thought about the list of jobs still to complete.

The lovely boatyard manager, Graham, rang us to confirm we would be hoisted out again on Monday at 4.30pm so the prop could be adjusted as our new engine was lacking power and not revving at the expected levels when under load.  

We arranged to meet Bea and Andy to take them for a sail as they had just sold their beautiful boat, so left our quiet anchorage early to meet them at 11:30am at Yacht Haven Marina.   The intention was to tie up alongside the pontoon for just enough time to collect them and head out again.   It was low tide and I was aware the approach to the marina did get shallow but was lulled into a false sense of security as there were numerous boats (admittedly smaller but would still draw a similar amount to us), on their moorings close to the marina.   It was quite windy with gusts of up to 20knots and I manoeuvred Cerulean so we could glide sideways with the wind on our beam (side) pushing us onto the pontoon.   I almost bailed at the last minute as we touched the bottom and a cloud of mud bellowed out behind us.   However, we persisted as there was only one berth left available on the pontoon.   The saying, “The most dangerous thing to have on a boat is a schedule” was ringing in my ears but I ignored it!    We gently moored up in front of another boat, with our anchors facing each other, nose to nose – not an ideal mooring technique as I was pinned in, unable to leave the pontoon going backwards (which is the preferred way to leave when there is a boat in front facing a different direction), due to the shallow depth and unable to move forward with wind pushing us onto the pontoon.   However, Bea and Andy arrived and we decided to leave before the tide fell any further otherwise we would have to wait on the pontoon for a few hours for the water levels to increase.   We set up spring lines to help us get off the dock so, with me powering in reverse with the wheel hard over to starboard, Andy held the line until our nose was out and then I gave the order to slip the line, I changed gear to forward and we headed out.  At this point I did several things wrong.  I underestimated the strength of the wind and current, I didn’t increase the engine speed enough, I had forgotten to turn on the bowthruster (biggest mistake) and I wasn’t keeping an eye on the depth.   Everything happened so fast.  Suddenly a gust of wind caught the front of Cerulean and our nose was pushed into the boat in front.   At this point all chaos let loose and I wasn’t certain what was happening other than we were being pushed onto the other boat and something was caught but I couldn’t see what, other than hearing a lot of shouting, swearing and cross voices coming from the owners of the other boat.    Eventually we managed to untangle the two boats and we left with a couple of bent stanchions and unknown damage to the other boat.  Bea knew the owners so we immediately made contact with them.  Feeling anxious but relieved to get the boats separated, I headed out of the mooring area weaving through the maize of buoys when suddenly the boat lurched forward.  I was confused as I had been avoiding the mooring buoys but had not been keeping an eye on the depth in my rush to get out into the channel.  I had hit the submerged, forgotten concrete block of a disused mooring buoy (no buoy was attached to it) and as I looked behind, I could see a trail of disturbed mud where we had touched the bottom.   I felt sick.  How could I have been so stupid twice in the space of a few seconds?   Some days you are a bird, and others you are the statue –  today I was the statue!   I felt shaky, incompetent, foolish and embarrassed all in one big bundle of SH1T!    I tried to enjoy the day as we hoisted our beautiful new sails for the first time and headed to Helford River at a great pace.   I tried to smile as we picked up a mooring and had a lovely lunch with Bea and Andy, attempting to push the horrible thought that not only had I damaged someone else’s boat but also our own and bruised my confidence and ego.    As we were being lifted out the water the next day we would be able to see whether there was any damage to Cerulean’s keel.

We dropped off Bea and Andy at the same marina, stopping just long enough for them to jump off before we headed back up the river where we had arranged to meet Mike and Nicki who were sailing from Gosport (where we had met them six months earlier), to Falmouth in preparation for their departure for Spain in a few days.   It was good to see them and we had a lovely catch up on board Cerulean before we motored back down the river on Monday afternoon to be lifted out the water again.    We arrived dead on time and were greeted by Graham who lost no time getting Cerulean in the hoist.   I told him what had happened and how concerned I was about the keel.   He, very kindly, tried to reassure me that it happens a lot and I’d probably been extremely unlucky to find a forgotten concrete pad.  As Cerulean was lifted out the water we went to inspect the damage.   I had scuffed the keel and left a nasty graze on the bottom which needed drying out and repairing.   Graham very kindly found us a spot in the yard, even though they were frantically busy, and arranged for the repair to be done in the morning.   I could’ve kissed him – if Covid restrictions would’ve allowed – he was just amazing and we will always feel extremely grateful to him and his wonderful team.

We returned to Bea and Andy’s for the night (how lucky are we to have them…?) and I spent the evening baking a big cake to take to the boatyard in the morning.   Next day, Bea dropped us at the boat and I delivered the cake in time for morning tea.   By the time we arrived the repair had been done and the prop angle altered.   We were able to complete some other jobs and dropped the bent stanchions at a local fabricators for repair.   Later that afternoon, we were relaunched with all the guys full of appreciation for the cake which was nowhere near matched by the appreciation we felt for them!  Unfortunately the prop was still not right and after much headscratching, it was decided we should stay afloat while more research was done into finding the right angle for the boat/engine/prop combination.   With the depth sounder showing we had zero depth, I very gingerly, but successfully reversed out of the yard into the channel – I was back on the horse!

The next morning we picked up a mooring buoy next to Zen Again and paddled our new kayak over to have coffee and TimTams (Antipodean chocolate biscuits) with Mike and Nicki before they headed into Truro so Nicki could have her Covid vaccination.   We said our farewells as they prepared to leave the UK for Spain and hope to see them again in The Canaries before we all head across the Atlantic in a few months time.

With my confidence starting to be restored, we set sail for Helford River where we spent a few magical days anchored in this slice of paradise.  It was particularly special as there were no tourists and very few visiting yachts in this normally very busy and popular anchorage.   We explored the beautiful, quaint, chocolate box village of Helford and wandered around the quiet streets and woods.  I loved it!  It was so quintessential English with thatched pub beside a stony beach, a small village shop that shut at 3pm and had windows full of handwritten notices about local events, bluebells in flower in the old woodland and stone walls tumbling down to the sea.  

A strong easterly was forecast so we moved anchorages back to the sheltered Fal/Truro River near the village of Malpas where we were met by the friendly seal again as we anchored.    The self-flagellation was starting to ease as the wind increased and tried to blow away any doubts or fears I had been harbouring.  Perhaps it was our turn to be a bird again instead of the statue….!?

Second season – launching soon!

Our long winter in the boatyard in Cornwall is slowly drawing to a close.  The days are getting noticeably longer and the daytime temperatures are improving.  With this, our very long list of boat jobs is getting smaller and our excitement at getting closer to moving back on board Cerulean, is mounting.  We consider ourselves incredibly fortunate to have been able to spend the winter months in this beautiful corner of the world, not only so we can enjoy the environment but also spend precious and special times with Bea and Andy who have been fabulous, generous hosts and company.

We started the winter with a daunting list of boat improvements and maintenance we needed to address.   As we began working through the list more jobs were added and we soon had an insurmountable list which, instead of motivating us, did the opposite.   Using the program, Trello, we decided to break the list down into what could be done pre-launch, what was urgent, what needed to be done by professionals and jobs that could wait until we were back in the water.   This made the essential work a lot more manageable and we took great satisfaction being able to move jobs from one list to the “Done” section!

Just before Christmas our old engine was removed and sold for spares, giving us the opportunity to clean the engine space in preparation for our new one which arrived in early January.   We had a few frustrations due to communication breakdowns and ended up with an engine which was not exactly what we wanted or expected.  This was extremely upsetting considering the amount of time, effort and research we had done, not to mention the huge expense of a new engine.    We were caught in a difficult conundrum – make a big fuss and insist on a new engine, with the result of delaying our launch and complicating our works schedule which had been carefully organised to coincide with the engine install, or bite the bullet and find a solution to the problem we now faced.  The national lockdown allowed one person working on the boat inside at any one time so we had carefully choreographed for people to come to the boat with no overlaps and give enough time for work to be completed by the end of March.   Andy, my Marine Engineer brother-in-law, had designed a new battery management plan for us, improving the way we generated and monitored our power, so we worked with him to ensure the new engine would work well with the plan.   Andy came up with some good solutions which allowed us to proceed with the “not perfect” engine and give us battery and regenerating options which we were comfortable with.   The compromise engine was fitted and in early January we were given our boat back so we could continue with other projects on our list.    A short time later, the riggers re-installed our mast, which had been removed in December and all of a sudden, we were a sailboat again.   It felt like we were making progress.

Getting an electrician to even look at the boat, was proving challenging.   We wanted to move, tidy up and replace most of the battery monitoring and charging units and we had soon exhausted all the recommended electricians who were too busy to complete the work within our two month window.   The same company who installed the engine had originally agreed to do the electrical work but now told us they could not start it until June and the boat would need to remain out of the water for what they estimated to be 200 hours of work.   Once again we felt let down and angry at the mis-communication, but as they obviously weren’t interested in the work and our confidence in them was fast diminishing, we turned them down and started looking for other electricians.   After making several calls for help and recommendations from the sailing community, we eventually split the job in two and found a couple of excellent electricians (Adrian and Richard) who together completed the entire job in less than 80 hours.   In an attempt to reduce the electricians time, we spent days chasing and labelling wires, removing old ones and learning as much as we could about the wiring on our boat.   Richard then continued tidying up and removed more old and unused cables, finding ways to hide some unsightly ones and giving recommendations on how we could improve other aspects of the boat.   As a marine surveyor, Richard has a huge amount of knowledge and expertise we could tap into, which we often did!  

In addition to sorting our electrics, Richard is also installing “Tommy” our heater, replacing the element in our hot water cylinder (currently we only have hot water after running the engine, but in future we hope to be able to heat water in a marina or when we use our generator), repairing our flexiteek deck and gives general advice on maintenance questions.   He really is a trove of information and we are incredibly lucky to have found him.  

While we continue with our boat work, Covid continues to have a devastating affect on the UK, Europe and the rest of the World, except New Zealand, it appears! We have been in lockdown, or certainly had restricted movements, for the last 12 months and any opportunity to visit family and friends while in the UK is fast disappearing for us. We have had close encounters with Covid and experienced the joys of a Covid test, and recently we felt fortunate to have qualified for the first in two vaccinations. The temporary vaccination centre, set up on a rural showground in the middle of nowhere, was run with British efficiency and military precision – we were in and out within 10 minutes of arriving with friendly staff directing us through the many levels of ID checks and information.

In late 2020 my son, Jak (who should’ve been travelling with his gorgeous girlfriend, Juliette when Covid destroyed their plans) proposed to his longtime partner.   They decided to have a short engagement and set the date of the wedding for February so they could go overseas in the middle of 2021.   I was devastated to not be there, as Covid restrictions made it impossible for me to return to NZ for a few weeks due to the managed isolation hotels being fully booked until April.  It is over a year since I have held my children and feel the pain of the distance between us every day, so missing out on such a special and important day in my son’s life was a very hard pill to swallow.   I know there are many other, bigger sacrifices people have made in the last 12 months so I consider myself very lucky to have been able to participate virtually, staying awake most of the night to watch the proceedings and enjoy the union of these two beautiful people.

It is now less than two weeks until we go back in the water and we still have a lot of work to complete.  Fortunately we have accepted an offer of help from a boatbuilding student called David, and we have prepared a list of jobs for him while Steve continues with our maintenance schedule and I start cleaning everything before we begin moving the soft furnishings back on board and making Cerulean feel like home again.   Lockdown restrictions are slowly being eased as the UK vaccination programme is rolled out.   We have decided to stay in the UK until we can have the second vaccine at the end of May as we feel this will improve our chances of having unrestricted access to other countries, so it’s worth extending our stay in the UK for a few weeks to achieve this. 

In the meantime, boat work continues and we look forward to being back on the water to test out all our new toys and systems.  Maybe then we can have a few days rest and just enjoy the privilege of living the life we have chosen.

B.O.A.T – Bring Out Another Thousand

We have been in Falmouth for nearly three months – hard to believe, considering it has been raining for most of that time!   My amazing sister, Bea, and brother-in-law, Andy, have welcomed us into their home and we have become one very happy family living together while respecting each other’s space and needs.   For me, at least, this has been a special time for me to be able to re-connect with my UK family while we work hard on the long list of jobs we need to finish on Cerulean.

The boat has been out of the water since mid-October and in that time she has been stripped of everything that made her a home as well as almost everything that made her a boat!   We took everything – and I mean everything – off and out of the boat, including the old engine!   If it could be carried, lifted or unscrewed and removed, it was.   We stored most things in Bea and Andy’s garage and what wasn’t needed any more, we sold or threw out.   The old engine was sold and shipped to it’s new home in Scotland along with many spares, manuals and fittings that will not be needed on the new engine.    We took our sails to be cleaned and serviced at SKB, a nearby sail loft who we had already contracted to make us a new sprayhood and main sail bag, called a stackpack.   After lots of deliberation we are changing the colour of our canvas from beige to blue as it will hide the dirt better!   The team at SKB were fantastic and agreed for us to be present when they inspected and assessed our sails so we could learn more about sail repair and future maintenance.   We took five sails to the loft and discovered that three were past their use-by date, meaning the material was starting to disintegrate and stitching was becoming compromised due to UV and age.   We had not anticipated getting new sails immediately, but had expected to replace them before crossing the Atlantic in 12 months.   New sails were added to our shopping list.

The wooden grating on the floor of our cockpit had slowly fallen apart over the summer and needed to be replaced.   We received a toe curling quote from the boatyard to have one custom made.  I went in search of a local carpenter who quoted a much more acceptable price.  We added a new grate to our shopping list.

Our new engine arrived in the same week as the old engine was removed and we immediately started cleaning the bilges to get rid of years of grease and oil build up.   Gary, who removed the old engine, announced it was the dirtiest engine and space he had ever worked in – not a great badge of honour for us to wear and I vowed I would never let it get that dirty again, particularly after spending four days cleaning the engine space until it gleamed!   Due to a communication breakdown somewhere along the lines, the new engine had to be returned as our boat runs a 24V system and the one we were sent was for a 12V system only.  This led to a delay in the new engine being installed – not a major issue as we have plenty of time up our sleeve – but does mean we have to live with a mess in the main cabin, making moving around the boat difficult when trying to do other jobs.   A new engine is already on the shopping list.

Continuous rain meant our attempt to remove, clean and re-bed all the through deck fittings, was strung out over a period of about a week.   Our daily bike rides from Bea and Andy’s to the boat were getting wetter and less enjoyable for me, in particular, and I often suggested Steve take the journey on his own while I found other work to do at the house.   During these short days I made a missing cushion for the forward berth which meant the two berths can now be made into one big double.   I also made fitted sheets for our oddly shaped bed which will mean making the bed will be much easier.   I sewed a hanging toolbag for the back of the passage berth door so the regularly used tools can be kept in one place, and started sewing flags for the many countries we hope to visit next year.   In addition I started making covers for our fenders to protect them from UV damage and the boat from grease and dirt.   Sewing things were put on the shopping list.

Andy is a marine electrical engineer and he designed a new battery management system for us.   It will be essential for us to be able to keep the batteries topped up and generate enough power to drive all the electrical items on the boat, including lights, navigation equipment and fridge.  New solar panels, battery charger and battery monitors are in the shopping list.

In early December, the riggers came and removed our mast.  In addition to checking all the rigging, the mast needed some attention.  The survey we had done while purchasing the boat, found several points of corrosion and chaffing on the mast and these repairs could only be undertaken with the mast down.  We were also getting a lot of water entering the boat from the side of the mast and this needed to be addressed as it was impossible to keep the boat completely dry.   Once the mast was removed we were able to clean under the mast itself, an area that had become choked up with all sorts of dirt and grime.   A new mast collar, new halyards and replacement cleats are on the shopping list.

A small break in the weather meant we could finish rebedding the stanchions (poles) that held our safety lines in place.  The safety lines are like the fencing that surrounds the outside of the boat and are an essential barrier between you and the ocean when moving around the boat.   Twenty years ago, when Cerulean was built, it was thought that a plastic coating over the top of wire was a good way to prevent corrosion and help avoid chaffing as well as making the wire more comfortable to hold.  However, it is now considered bad practice to have a coating on the wire as it is hard to see whether the wire is rusty or breaking thereby making it unsafe and possible to fail when you need it most.   We started to remove the plastic coating and found many broken threads.   New safety wires are on the shopping list.

A few months ago I made contact with Peter Snow, the first owner of Cerulean who had the boat commissioned and built in 1994.  Peter has provided us with lots of valuable information, including providing us with the name and contact details of the original boat builder who still lives in Falmouth.   I was very excited to be able to get hold of Phil and talk to him about Cerulean, obviously stirring up some very happy memories of his time building our beautiful boat.   Sadly, lockdown meant we were not able to meet up immediately, but we arranged to do so in the New Year and, as Phil was still working as a boat builder, we discussed the possibility of him coming to do some work on the boat helping us reseal the windows and hatches which seem to be leaking.  We are going to attempt to do one on our own and see how easy it is!

As you can tell, we have been busy and have a lot of work, and expense, ahead of us.  While some of these jobs and expense could be delayed, we have decided to press ahead.  We have a long journey ahead of us and we consider it important to have a safe, seaworthy and reliable boat, regardless of the expense at this stage – we consider it worth it!

When we’re not on the boat we are making the most of being in a beautiful part of the country.  We are extremely lucky to be in Falmouth, not just because of it’s beauty and history, but also because there are lower Covid cases here than any other parts of the UK.   Life for us has continued pretty much as normal during the lockdown.   Apart from cafes, pubs and restaurants being closed we were still able to work on the boat and buy the necessary tools and equipment to keep forging ahead. 

Now it is a few days to Christmas.  We celebrated early with Bea and Andy before they left for Northern Ireland to spend time with their daughter, Fay and her beautiful family.  We have been left in charge of the house and chickens for a week and will have a quiet Christmas together, just the two of us.  

As 2020 comes to an end and we reflect on the last year, we consider ourselves extremely lucky to have been able to continue with our adventure in spite of the lockdowns and restrictions.  Our hope is that things improve in 2021 and restrictions are lifted so we can start our journey back to NZ in the New Year.  In the meantime, we are continuing to improve and prepare ourselves and Cerulean and look forward to getting her back in the water in March.

Rescued again!

The number of Covid cases in all of the UK had started to increase at such a rate that it felt like doors were closing behind us as we made our way south. Just as we were leaving Northern Ireland, tighter measures were put in place and it was no longer possible to visit people in their homes and pubs were closing. Wales was starting to talk about stopping people entering or leaving some regions, so we were keen to continue heading south as soon as possible and head for Padstow on the North Cornwall coast.  The weather looked good, although winds were light so, after resting from our memorable night sail from Holyhead, we set off at 4.30am to make sure we could arrive at the entrance to Padstow in time to cross the sand bar and get a berth the inner harbour which is only open two hours either side of high tide.   More big winds were forecast so once again, we had a race against time to get to Padstow ahead of the weather!

We had 60 miles to cover in 10 hours, so if we could keep our average speed at 6knots we would be there in time to cross the bar and get into the marina.   As the wind was light, we had to motor to keep within our schedule and, although the seas were sloppy with waves on our side causing us to roll quite violently, it was relaxing sitting on deck and watching the sun slowly rise.   A dolphin joined us for a while to greet the sun as we slowly watched the coast of Wales fade into the distance.

When we bought Cerulean, we knew the engine was in desperate need of a major overhaul or replacing and we have chosen to get a new engine installed over the winter.  During our trip we have been patching up the engine and spending the least amount on it in order to keep it going until we haul out in October.   Apart from drinking copious amounts of oil, she has been reliable but, call it what you like, I had started getting a feeling we would not make it all the way back to Cornwall without something happening.  My sense of impending problems was so strong we had a conversation about what we would do if the engine failed on this passage and I had asked Steve to ensure he was well versed in knowing how to change the impeller and where the fuel filters were stored.    With these words ringing in our ears I heard the engine splutter and then stop!   On the positive side, the sun was shining and we had been averaging 7knots in speed, so had a few miles under our belt……

We unfurled the headsails and started sailing – under 5knots at first but the wind Gods were kind to us and slowly the pressure started to build and we were soon gliding along at 6knots while Steve tried to figure out what was wrong with the engine.    It’s fair to say that Steve is a reluctant mechanic and is learning more than he ever thought he needed, or wanted to know about engines! We deduced, judging by the way the engine suddenly died, it was either a fuel or air problem.   We have two fuel filters and Steve cleaned the primary filter – something we had been checking regularly anyway and cleaned the air filter which was very dirty.   The engine still would not start.   We decided to call Falmouth coastguard on the radio to let them know we were in no imminent danger but inform them of our predicament as we would not be able to cross the bar without a working engine.  They in turn contacted Padstow Harbour and arranged a tow from one of their pilot vessels, advising us to call them on the radio when we were 10 minutes away from the entrance to the sand bar.   Perfect.  The pressure was off and we could focus on trying to repair the engine and sail the boat to get as much speed as possible to ensure we met the tidal deadline.  

We arrived at Padstow entrance dead on high tide and called Padstow patrol on the agreed channel.  Nothing.   I tried again.   No response.   This time a tourist passenger boat responded saying he would relay our message to Harbour Patrol when he crossed the bar and was closer to the marina.   There were two problems.  The first being I could see on AIS (our GPS positioning system) that he was quite a long way from the entrance to Padstow and the second problem was he was moving at 3knots and at this rate it would be dark before he relayed the information!   The wind had dropped and the current was starting to drag us away from the entrance.   I called the marina on the phone and they said they’d pass the message on to the patrol.   We watched AIS anxiously as we were drifting closer to rocks and waited for a patrol boat to become visible on the screen but after ten minutes of drifting closer to the rocks, no boats had appeared on AIS leaving the harbour.  Now I was getting anxious, so I called again.  As I was talking to the captain of the pilot boat, who assured me he was leaving the harbour as we talked, I noticed a lobster pot beside the boat.   There are lobster pots all along the coastline and we always keep a close lookout to avoid them, but we had spotted this one too late and ran over it.  

On the positive side, as we got ourselves tangled in the offending lobsterpot buoy we stopped drifting towards the rocks, so we took the sails down and waited for our rescuers to arrive while hearing the tourist boat relaying our earlier message to the fast approaching pilot boat!  

Lobsterpots look quite innocuous as they bob around in the sea.  We have had to avoid them when we’ve been a long way from land in over 40m of water.  Sometimes the buoys marking where the lobsterpots are can be submerged just under the surface making them very difficult to spot.  The one we had attached ourselves to had a pink flag on a bamboo stick and two buoys – one was a football wrapped in netting, and the other was a pickup buoy just below the water.   The flag and the football were attached to each other and the lobster pot by a long piece of thick rope and this was wrapped around our rudder.  We were informed that the buoys could be attached to up to 50 lobster pots which meant the weight of our “anchor” could be very heavy and, if we were towed with these attached, could result in us loosing our rudder.   With little option and virtually no hesitation, Steve stripped off and, with a knife in hand, dived into the cold water to cut the rope to the lobsterpots.   If I wasn’t married to him already, I think I would have fallen in love with him at that point!   What a hero he was!  Not only was it very deep and very cold, there was a strong tide and a danger that he could get swept under the boat so it was with huge relief that the whole action of diving in, cutting the rope and getting back out of the water took less than 30 seconds! 

We were free and there was still time to cross the bar so we headed towards the entrance attached to a long rope behind the powerful pilot vessel with instructions to steer to keep Cerulean directly behind them while still trailing the flag and buoy attached to our rudder!    Twice the towing line broke and on the second time the rope joining the flag and buoy managed to work it’s way up and get caught between the top of our rudder and the bottom on the boat, meaning I now had no steering and the rudder was locked to port (left)!   Not great when we were still to negotiate a narrow entrance into the inner harbour and be pushed into a berth!   The patrol boat came alongside and towed us beside them, both of us squeezing through the harbour entrance as we held fenders to ensure Cerulean didn’t get damaged as we were pushed against the harbour wall.

It was a relief to be safely berthed in the centre of beautiful Padstow – a popular tourist destination and traditional fishing port.  A storm was coming and we were happy to be able to spend time in this lovely town.  

The next day Steve jumped into the water again and removed the rope from our rudder.  Our engine was fixed by a lovely engineer who came on board in the late afternoon and stayed for a few hours until he had removed the offending blockage in the pipe between the fuel tank and filter, and replaced the starter motor – luckily we had a spare on board!  We were operational again and it felt good! By the way, just in case you are worried about the Lobsters, trapped in their pots at the bottom of the sea, we did pass on the position of the pots to the Coastguard and Harbourmaster in the hope the fishing boat would be informed.

The inclement weather meant we spent nine days in Padstow, which gave us time to enjoy exploring the town and surrounding area.  Our lovely neighbour, Alfie, was our only close social contact as Covid cases seemed to be increasing rapidly, so we kept our distance from the tourists who jostled for position on the harbourside within 20 metres of our boat. 

Padstow is a foodie destination with numerous excellent eateries most notably Rick Stein’s famous fish restaurant.  In fact Rick Stein establishments are so prominent and numerous in Padstow, the town is locally known as Padstein!   He seems to have cornered the market in fine dining, fish and chips, cafés, cooking school, deli and even homeware!  I understand people have a love/hate relationship with his presence in the town but his establishments are very popular and obviously bring alot of tourist money to the region.

Padstow must be a beautiful place to visit in the summer as there are several long sandy beaches close to the town and an estuary which, even on a cold sunny day in autumn, was full of kite surfers and windsurfers which Steve watched enviously as we followed a long string of people walking towards the headland.  It did feel odd being in such a busy place when we have been quite isolated for a few months and we both felt uncomfortable being in such close proximity to crowds of people.

The weather started to clear and we began planning our next passage around Landsend to Penzance.   We delayed our departure by a day after the weather improved, to give the sea time to calm down after the long period of windy weather.   We knew the seas would be rolly so did not want to cross the bar in conditions that would be rough.    Before finalising our departure we talked to the harbourmaster who looked at the webcam and informed us it was looking calm at the harbour entrance, so on high tide, we slipped our lines and headed up the river towards the sand bar – called Doom Bar!

Crossing Doom Bar was fine, but the seas on the other side were much worse than we expected.  We crashed, head on into large breaking waves as Cerulean’s nose buried into the water and soaked us and everything on deck.   We discovered leaks in the cabin we had not experienced before as water entered our home through any crack or undiscovered gap.  Our belongings rattled as we continued to be thrown down the big waves that broke in front of us while both of us remained remarkably calm through the whole ordeal.   At one point I did feel huge guilt that I had led Steve into this situation as it had been my dream to live on a boat and now I melodramatically pictured Steve’s life in danger and, as captain, that was my doing and responsibility.  The force of the water was so strong our navigational light, securely mounted on the bow pulpit (stainless steel railing at the front of the boat), was knocked off and thrown back to us in the cockpit!

We continued heading out of the bay into deeper water and away from the islands and headland until we could safely hoist the main sail with two reefs and unfurl the small forestay jib.  The boat settled down as we turned the engine off and unfurled the larger yankee as Cerulean picked up speed and we were able to fall into a more comfortable rhythm with the seas and rolling waves!  We had three sails up and once again, we made good speed towards Landsend, arriveing on slack tide which is a huge advantage to get around this treacherous headland.  There are often large seas at Landsend when the wind is against the tide and we were not looking forward to a repeat of our earlier experience!

We arrived in Penzance as night fell and entered the inner harbour half an hour after the gates opened for their four hour tide window when the harbour gates slowly rise to keep water levels higher than the adjoining outer harbour, which dries out at low tide.

After a peaceful night tied to a large ferry, we left as the gates slowly lowered and headed out of Penzance in glorious sunshine and a steady wind.  The near by Medieval castle and chapel on St Micheals Mount was silhouetted against the bright morning sky.  

We checked AIS as we turned off the engine and gently sailed towards The Lizard headland, 14 miles away.   One other yacht was visible on AIS and it was Saga, our sailing companion on our memorable night sail from Holyhead!  They were sailing in our direction and ended up passing close behind us before gybing and following us towards the Lizard. We continued to sail in convoy the remaining 10miles to Falmouth, once again having a wonderful sail under shared skies and seas, speeding along at 8 knots.  As we entered Falmouth the weather deteriorated so we put in two reefs in the main before being hit by a rain squall, while a rainbow arched from one side of the harbour to the other.  At the same time I noticed something jumping out of the water beside us and announced to Steve we had dolphins again, but as I watched them jumping high out of the water I realised they were not dolphins but a school of very large tuna which were leaping beside us!

What an amazing way to finish our first season sailing on Cerulean.  It felt good to be back in Falmouth, ready for the next phase of our adventure and getting the boat ready for the biggest challenge of ours, and the boats, life so far!

Fair winds and good sailing

The weather in Scotland had been perfect, and as we left Tighnabruaich to sail around the other side of Bute, the sun shone again and we were treated to calm, still conditions. 

We motored through the narrow channel around Burnt Islands on the Northern side of Bute, looking out for the ferry from Colintraive (remembering the last frantic journey I had taken on it with my sister, Judy, a few years earlier…. But that’s another story!) and past Sir Richard Attenborough’s old house (my sister Lynn will appreciate this, as we used to make a point of commenting on the house each time we saw it, and seeing if we could spot its famous resident!).  We continued motoring down the East Kyle until the wind had increased and as the islands main town of Rothesay came into view, we unfurled the sails and turned the engine off for a lovely sail east to Largs on the mainland.

An old friend from Cambridge had moved to Glasgow many years ago and each time I visited my parents, we would arrange to meet.   A trip to Scotland would not have been the same if I hadn’t been able to catch up with Tracey, so we had arranged to spend a night in Largs marina to meet Tracey and her partner, Jim, for a few hours.   One of the standouts about this marina was the impressive boat handling skills we witnessed as large yachts successfully negotiated very tight spaces and I could only watch in awe as they expertly berthed their boats at speeds that made my toes curl.  I covert their confidence as I tend to approach cautiously and slowly, which sometimes is to my detriment as with a bit of speed, boats tend to be more responsive.

The next day we left early, just after low tide.  The wind was light and behind us, so we decided to test out our cruising chute – a large, lightweight (usually colourful) sail which flies from the front of the boat.   This was the first time we had attempted to fly the sail, and were pleased with how easy it was to set up and trim.   With the sun shining and the sails set, we relaxed in the sunshine, reading and enjoying the peace and quiet as we gently made our way down wind.   A submarine appeared on the horizon and we watched the large vessel continue at high speed above water, around the south side of Arran.  We have seen a lot of military exercises and vessels, ships and aircraft, since being on the boat.

After spending our last night in Scotland on anchor we continued the next day to sail 30 miles back to Bangor in Northern Ireland.   With a close eye on the weather, the next evening we left at 7pm for a night sail to Wales.  Steve had been keeping track of a big low that was approaching but we felt there was time for us to sail the 100 miles to Holyhead before the big winds were due to hit the next day in the early evening.   He was right, we had a great passage although neither of us slept much, and we arrived in Holyhead as the winds were starting to increase.

Holyhead marina was destroyed in a storm in 2018 when 80 boats sank, and today all that remains of the marina is one pontoon that can accommodate about 10 boats.  Although the Victorian breakwater is the longest in the UK at 2.7km, the pontoon is still very exposed and we were concerned about the safety of Cerulean in the coming winds.    We shared the pontoon with three other boats including a family of 4 and dog on a 28ft yacht and a 47ft Swan – a privately owned training yacht called Saga adventure sailing with the very experienced owner, Christian, and two lovely guests on board.

The winds arrived later that day so we doubled up our mooring lines and fenders as Cerulean strained, bounced and was thrown against the lines and pontoon.  The mooring lines creaked under the pressure as we hunkered below deck sheltering from the wind and rain. 

Holyhead is the largest town in Anglesey and has the appearance of a forgotten settlement with large derelict buildings on the headland and tired looking houses in the narrow streets leading to a small, unattractive town centre. The only saving grace of Holyhead, in my humble opinion, is the beautiful surrounding countryside.

After four days in Holyhead, thankfully a weather window appeared.   We were concerned about the sea state and watching a boat try to leave the marina and being thrown around in the heavy seas and wind, it was a valid concern.   We intended to leave for Milford Haven in the morning but on waking up to heavy rain and the sound of wind whistling through the rigging, we stayed inour warm bed and reconsidered our departure.   Two of our mooring lines had broken during the night and we soon learned that the other boats had lines that had suffered the same fate.  The boat next to us, Saga, was also heading south and had delayed their departure until early evening so, after reviewing the weather again, we decided to leave with them and buddy sail through the night.

At 5pm we followed Saga out of Holyhead harbour and into the rolling sea which was slowly calming down.  Earlier we had walked along the seawall and had waves crashing over our heads, but fortunately the winds had eased and with it, the waves were smaller.   We had raised the reefed  main in the shelter of the harbour and as soon as we were clear of the wall, we unfurled the smaller of our two headsails, our staysail, and once we felt confident the boat would cope with the bigger yankee sail, unfurled that too and the boat settled into a comfortable speed.

This was the start of one of the most memorable sails I have had to date.   The conditions were perfect – beautiful sunset, full moon, steady wind, following seas, favourable tide when it counted, wind in the right direction and the benefit of company as we watched shooting stars in the clear skies.   A Swan yacht is a beautiful design, considered to be the ultimate oceangoing cruising and performance boat.  We had expected that Saga would quickly  leave us behind but much to our delight, we were able to keep pace with them.  I took the first four hour watch from 10pm – 2am and opted to hand steer the whole time as I was loving the conditions under the bright starry sky, keeping an eye on Saga’s red mast light about a mile out to sea.  If I could see their white light, I’d know they were ahead of us, so I was focused on making sure we kept their red light in view.   At 2.30am we put the autohelm on and I went below to try to sleep but the adrenalin rush, noises from above and rolling of the boat, kept me awake most of the four hours, wrapped in warm blankets in our snug berth.  I rejoined Steve on deck at 7.00am as the sun was about to come up, and was surprised to see Saga right beside us.  Very impressive after 12hours of sailing to be less than half a mile from each other.

The wind had dropped and with a tide against us, our speed had slowed from the 6-8knots we had been achieving, to less than 4knots.  During the night our top speed had been 12.2knots and we were averaging between 6.5 – 7.2knots per hour – doesn’t sound fast when compared to America Cup boats, but considering we estimate on 5knots being our average speed, an increase of 2knots per hour means over a 12 hour period, we can reduce our journey time by nearly 5hrs.  

Saga took a different course to us – a much better decision than mine, and one I punished myself for afterwards as they beat us into Milford Haven by a considerable time!   We remained on our course and enjoyed the company of a very large pod of playful dolphins who remained with us for over an hour.   We could see dolphins all around us and more seemed to be rushing towards Cerulean to play in our bow wave or weave in our wake before we altered course and headed towards Milford Haven.    

The brilliance of the night sail was enhanced by a beautiful day with clear blue skies and a lovely sail into the large protected harbour, completing 140 miles in 23hours.  We were tired, but very happy as we dropped the anchor in a quiet, sheltered bay where we rested before preparing for another long sail the next day which, although we didn’t know it at the time, would become equally memorable for very different reasons!

The full deck – Ireland and Highlands

Neither of us had slept well on our last night in Strangford Lough.   I had strange and vivid dreams where I was in a number of situations outside my control while Steve was restless and kept checking on the mooring buoy lines.  

Several people had shared their experiences of being met with large crashing waves as they left the Lough entrance and had been swept perilously close to rocks and these stories were whirling round my head in the early hours of the morning.    Our journey started at 4:30am in a gentle breeze with a little cloud and no moon as we made our way up the river in the pitch dark.   We both peered ahead of us, trying to see whether we could make out the white foam of any crashing waves as we drew closer to the Lough entrance.  

The sky was getting light as we reached the first buoy marking the entrance and much to our relief, the sea looked calm and winds were as forecast in a direction that was perfect for our sail north.    We motored clear of any rocks and then hoisted the sails taking advantage of the northerly running current as we made excellent speed up the coast.    I was in my very happy space again – the three sails trimmed, making eight knots while hand steering close to the shore, watching cars meander along the coastal road taking their passengers to start their day.   I felt enormously privileged as we watched the sun rise over the sea and enjoyed the warmth of its early heat as we sped along in our small home to discover new places.

My niece, Fay, lives in Donaghadee, which is at the end of a long headland at the mouth of Belfast Lough.  We waved towards land as we cruised by, in the vague hope she may see us before catching up with her later in the week!   A group of islands lie off the headland and we cut through Donaghadee Sound to get into Belfast Lough.   The current was at full strength against us and we could not stem the tide under sail, so furled the jibs and powered up the engine.   With wind and tide against us, the sea became quite choppy and as we made our way down the main channel into the busy port of Belfast, we negotiated the heavy traffic coming into and out of the city while monitoring the port radio. 

The long channel of the Lough became less choppy as we entered the protected city harbour and we passed the large docks and container ships as we motored further into the harbour until the channel split into three and we took the middle option, continuing to the marina in Queens Quay.   The small marina is relatively new and operates on a first-in-first-served basis.  We were under the false impression that, as we had “booked” space, we would have a berth reserved for us.  This was not the case, but fortunately there was plenty of room and we moored side on to a pontoon before purchasing a “pay and display” ticket to display in our cabin window.   The facilities were excellent with access to a “lounge area” with free showers, internet, laundry and comfortable seating.   In addition the marina is walking distance from Belfast city centre and alongside the excellent Titanic Museum.   Apart from the noise and bright street lighting from being in the city centre, we loved the marina – and the cheapest one we have found – by far.

The Titanic was designed and built in Belfast and the Titanic Museum tracks the design process, build, launch, personalities and fateful journey of the ship and passengers.   We spent a really interesting few hours touring the museum and getting immersed in the lives of the designers, architects and builders of this iconic ship.   It was fascinating to see photographs, letters, re-created cabins and a walk through of the different levels/classes of the ship.  

Belfast is a wonderful city, full of beautiful sculptures, a great mix of modern and historic buildings and pedestrianised areas.  I loved it. 

It became clear, after talking to other yachties, that our intentions to continue sailing around Ireland was not going to be possible due to the continued Covid restrictions in the South.   As Scotland is visible from Northern Ireland and only a short sail, we decided to complete the full set of UK countries and head for the West Coast. 

My parents introduced me and my sisters to sailing when we were very young.  Every weekend from Spring to Autumn was spent at a sailing club and all of us have continued with the passion our parents encouraged us to learn and participate in.   My sister, Lynn, and I spent many summers sailing around the West Coast of Scotland with mum and dad and I have wonderful memories of special times exploring the beautiful islands.   My parents loved the sailing so much, they moved to Tighnabruaich on the Kyles of Bute and lived very happily there for 30 years until they both passed away within 11 months of each other a few years ago.   My parents would’ve been so encouraging and excited for our adventure, so it seemed very fitting to take Cerulean to the Kyles of Bute to honour their memory.

After spending a lovely few days with my niece, Fay (who is pregnant with her second child) and Isla, we set off early one morning in winds of about 20knots and headed for Stranraer in Loch Ryan.   The faint outline of the Scottish hills were visible as we headed North East, soon we could make out large turbines on the hills, followed by shapes of buildings and eventually colours were added to the mix of scenery slowly unfolding in front of us.   We dropped the anchor in a very sheltered bay and set off early the next morning for a 43mile sail to the Isle of Arran in the Firth of Clyde where we picked up a free mooring buoy in Brodick on the east side of the island.   My parents loved Arran, which was visible from their house, and was a favourite destination for them to sail to, so I was excited to be there, 40 years after my last visit!  

We spent a few glorious days exploring Brodick with its castle on one side of the bay, overlooking the small town.  The weather was sunny and warm – Steve even went for a quick dip in the sea, announcing this would be the last swim of the season – I was very impressed but I’m not so sure he would’ve been so quick to jump in if he’d seen the size of the jellyfish that swam past the boat later!

We had a lovely sail to Lochranza, in the north of Arran and visited the Isle of Arran whisky distillery where we had a tasting and introduction to the distilling process.  I have never been a huge fan of whisky, but learned a lot and can see that I could easily develop a taste for it – so much so that we spent a fortune on a bottle, just in case we needed it for medicinal purposes, of course!

The sail to Kames, in the Kyles of Bute, was magical for so many reasons.   I was excited about being back in very familiar surroundings, emotional about honouring my parents and looking forward to catching up with old family friends.   The weather was excellent with a good wind and, as we made our way down the Kyles, another boat raced us as we both travelled at over 8knots – well, I’m not sure the other boat knew it was a race but I believe two boats on the water constitutes one!   We won, dropping our sails as we came level with The Kames Hotel and picked up one of their free mooring buoys.  The familiar houses and scenery of my parents home town stretched out in front of us and I felt a mixture of sadness, happiness and impatience to get ashore! 

Our time in Kames and Tighnabruaich was incredibly special for me.  There were times I was quite overwhelmed with emotion, particularly when we were moored below my parents’ old home.  We met a number of mum and dad’s friends from the village, caught up with the lovely couple who bought their house, had a delicious meal at The Royal Hotel in Tighnabruaich (we had moved to one of their free mooring buoys so wanted to say thank you!), and had a wonderful lunch with mum and dad’s dear friends, Renee and Colin, in their garden after availing ourselves of their shower and washing machine!

To make our visit even more special, I had arranged a video catch up with mum’s brother, Michael and Bronwyn.  Michael had recently been discharged from hospital following an operation and was poorly but interested in our adventures and where we were.  We spent a lovely 15 minutes chatting, sadly this would be our last conversation as Michael passed away a few days later.

Leaving Tighnabruaich was hard but it also soothed a few raw emotions I had been harbouring.  My father, at least, once shared a similar dream of sailing across oceans.  They fulfilled some of that dream by sailing their 27ft yacht, Scapha, to the Azores before GPS and reliable weather forecasting – an incredible achievement I have huge admiration and respect for.  Cerulean is luxurious compared to Scapha and they would have encouraged and relished our adventure.   As Renee said to me, they would have had bunting flying in their garden to welcome us to the Kyles if they had been alive.   To hear that and be able to meet their friends, drink coffee on their neighbours balcony in the shadow of their former home and experience Tighnabruaich at its glorious best, was hugely therapeutic for me.   It was now time to put the Kyles behind us and start our long passage back south before the weather deteriorated, as summer was well and truly over and the cold of autumn was starting to bite!