Merry Christmas and Happy New Year

Waking to a warm breeze, and the sun streaming through the hatch, I listened to the kettle come to the boil. Christmas Eve had been busy, like England, everybody was out doing that last minute shop. The party atmosphere spilled into the streets, and the bars were lively - some well into the small hours.

A lazy day, sitting in the sun, telephone calls home. American cruising friends, John and Shirlee came to dinner, Fizz and nibbles in the cockpit was followed by John cooking the mahi-mahi he had caught the day before. I made a fresh fruit salad, and Roy produced real Madeira cake. It was party time on Avocette!

John Shaw,from Southsea Marina, is flying out today, 27th, and we will hopefully sign out tomorrow, and sail for Grenada in the Caribbean. You can follow our actual progress by logging on to 'yotreps'. I shall try to update our position daily.

Happy New Year

An Archipelago with red bananas

Whilst one or two of the boat-boys were a bit in-your-face, the people are friendly, welcoming, and cheerful. Shopping is a novel experience. There is little to buy. It’s difficult to buy anything in these islands, except red bananas. Postcards don’t exist, meat scarce (fresh non-existent), even bread is difficult to find. Worse still, the local beer comes in 20cl bottles!!!!!
In contrast, I watch in horror, at the lifestyle of the tourist, flown into their “All Inclusive” then driven around in the hotels dessert-camouflaged land rovers, like going to the zoo, to see the “natives”. A perverse twist on the islands past history, and forced involvement in, the slave trade!
It was good to leave behind the lunar landscape of Ilha do Sal (the airfield is actually a designated divert for the space shuttle; should it ever be used the astronauts would be justifiably confused), and the Island of Boa Vista, described as a little bit of the Sahara adrift in the Atlantic.
Arriving in Tarrafal, on the Island of Sao Nicolau, we were met with the same beaming smiles, warm welcome, and empty shelves. A trip to the barbers gave the locals a laugh too.
But this island is different. Near vertical cliffs, ripped open by the wind and, because of its height, rain, reveal a dramatic landscape. Trees and shrubs compete with sugar cane and maize on the steep slopes. Falcons, and swifts, soar around the summits. Huge butterflies, as big as saucers, decorate the flowers. Other inhabitants though, are less appealing. The spiders, wasps, and bee-like insects are just as big!
It was a rough, bouncy trip in the Aluguer, a pick-up truck that does the job of taxi/bus/delivery van, to Monte Gordo and a long hard climb to the summit, but the view was worth it. The lsles of Sao Anton, Sao Vincete, Luzia, Branco, and Razo lay spread across the ocean.
We are now in Mindelo, on the Ilha da Sao Vincente, where we will spend Xmas, and prepare the boat for the crossing. Listening to the almost constant heavy beat of African rhythms echoing from the houses, sitting under the hot sun, it’s strange to see Christmas trees (plastic), and tinsel on the balconies. As for carols sung in Creole…..still, I guess someone has to do it.
It will be strange without family and friends. Have a good one, and a Happy New Year.

Sal and BaoVista in the Cabo Verde

It´s Chilly Here....

It was our second night out from the Canaries, heading for the Cape Verde Islands, in the Tropics. Great handfuls of Neptune’s diamonds (bioluminescence) sparkled in the foam and inky-black water as we surfed down 3m waves in 20kts of easterly breeze. Above us, Orion watched our progress as he silently marched westwards across the heavens. The first day’s run had been a rolling and noisy 100miles, but now we are making 150miles a day. It’s chilly today – I had to wear a t-shirt!

Life settles into a routine very quickly on an ocean passage. 3hrs on, 6hrs off, maintenance, cleaning, cooking, all have their place. The SSB radio is invaluable. Each day I download a synoptic chart, and a grib file, of the weather for our area of the North Atlantic Ocean. I also send a position report (To see it, Google: yotreps and search for avocette).

Then the wind dropped, the temperature soared, and the engine went on. Light NE winds returned and we sailed into Palmeira, on the Ilha do Sal.

The anchorage was much busier than we had expected with some twenty French, German, Swiss, and Belgium boats already at anchor. Entry formalities were simple, and the place delightful. Friendly locals smiled and waved as they queued to collect water from the “Fontana” – a tap in a blue building that is unlocked each morning if the water tanker has delivered the water! The houses have no piped water, few have electricity. Roads in the village are either cobbled, a legacy of the islands earlier Portuguese ownership, or dirt tracks. Only the main road to the capital is tarmac.

In the capital, Espargos, bare footed women carry their loads in great baskets balanced on their heads, whilst children play in the streets.

Watching the men return from fishing always creates a buzz. The fishing is good. Sailfish, marlin, dorado, tuna…… So far I have hooked, and lost, two big fish, but landed only one smallish tuna – but it was delicious.

Big money is moving into the islands. The all-inclusive holiday is starting to dominate the beautiful beaches on southern parts of the islands – I bet they have running water!

We moved south to Boa Vista, the next island in the chain. Very similar. The supermarkets have little to sell. No bread. There is a small bakery for the tourists. No fresh or UHT milk. Only powdered is available for sale.

Sorry there are no photos at the moment. I cant get them to load.

We head back to Sal tomorrow as John has to fly home.

Gales with attitude!

Last nights storm was the third in two days and rolled in with a vengence. Pontoon cleats sheared off as mooring lines snatched bar-tight with the forces generated by the send (waves), that bent around the headland, and rolled in through the open south facing harbour entrance. Thankfully our preparations were sufficient. We suffered no more that a snapped shoreline and a poor nights sleep.

Windguru had forecast 50kts then ammended the prediction to 34kts. His first was more accurate!

Its raining now, but things are quietening down. Hopefully we will get away tomorrow.

New Crew & a Change of Plan

In the distance, the brown volcanic hills of Gran Canaria were a stark contrast to the lush green of La Palma that we had left just hours earlier. It was Moira’s last chance to catch a fish, and she did it in style. Not content with a nice tuna, she followed it up with a monster dorado. We ate well for the next few days.
Arriving in Las Palmas, the marina was full. Boats were gathering for the ARC. We found a slot in the anchorage and dropped the hook. It was time for a crew change. Moira to Lanzarote, to join another boat, and my daughter Nicki, with friend Liza were flying in. Sun was on order. First they tried the foredeck, then it was the turn of the beach. To my utter surprise they also wanted to go sailing, and fishing!
We slipped out of harbour, hoisted sails, and enjoyed a rolling reach 40 miles down the coast to the tourist trap of Puerto Rico. The girls could walk ashore and were soon vying with the Scandinavians for sun loungers on the beach and cocktails in the noisy bars.
The marina was great with boats of all nationalities, each preparing for their own next leg. I lifted Avocette again to replace the anodes, and finished fabricating a short bowsprit from which to fly the asymmetric kite. There’s a great little chandlery there too.
WE should have been heading for The Gambia next, but the talk was of Senegalese pirates, so we opted instead to explore the western islands of the Canaries.
La Gomera is a pleasant island, tourism is low-key. Buses leave on time and are cheap, so we have walked some of its dramatic hills, valleys, and cliffs while we wait for some vigorous Atlantic depressions to pass. The next is just rolling in. Thankfully the 50kt winds originally forecast are not now predicted to be greater than 35kts. We shall see……………..

We sat in the clouds to cool down

Slipping out of Quinto do Lorde, Madeira we unrolled the headsail, engaged Carly the hydrovane and romped-off towards the Ilhas Desertas. The NE force 5/6 sent us scuttling bye, able only to enjoy the view from a safe distance-off. Frequent gusts to 35kts and a 4m swell had us surging down the waves at a respectable 6.5-7kts. The cork-screw motion made life uncomfortable. We had to miss the Selvagem Islands - a marine nature reserve for which we had permits, so we also missed the rare monk seals too. 277 miles and 47 hrs later, but now back in hot sunshine, we tied-up in the marina in Santa Cruz, on the island of La Palma in the Canaries.

Unlike the eastern islands, La Palma is green. The spectacular volcanoes rise to a staggering 2426m. The walks are awesome. Advertised for "expert walkers who do not suffer from vertigo", they deliver exactly what they say!! Sitting on the top, looking down on the clouds,tumbling on air currents, like the primordial gases that had erupted with the magma, we sat humbled as ravens and buzzards soared around us. We left only when the cool clouds enveloped us. Behind us, some 60 miles away, Tenerife silently poked its even higher cone towards the sky.

With mischievous humour, the people of La Palma enjoy a satirical poke at Napoleon. French pirates had repeatedly returned to rape and pillage. Then, after Boney himself, had had a pop at invading the island, only to repulsed, sent running, his tail firmly between his legs, did they celebrated, and they still do. Throughout the island there are representations, a statue, and even an annual festival where Bonaparte, depicted as comical little clown in a huge hat, is irreverently the centre of attention.

We leave tomorrow for the Island of Gran Canaria, and the World Music Festival, so maybe its time to wander the cobbled streets of the old town for one last beer or perhaps an icecream..

Journey to the Centre of the Earth

Just a stones throw from the edge of the Island (there is no beach) the sea is 2 miles deep. Looking up, the peaks of the volcanos are over 1850m high, shrouded by mist and cloud. I ski at lower altitudes!

Maderia was formed by fire at the beginning of time. Cooled by the rains, it is covered with vegetation. Man has since laced the island with roads. Narrow,windy roads hug the near vertical edges into the heart of the island; tunnels boared through the rock carry motorways of speading traffic through the hills. Houses, some the traditional triangular, but most pastel painted concrete, cling precariously on the edge, perched hundreds of meters above the rivers on the valley floors. There is precious little flat ground anywhere. The sign in the supermarket lift, a gentle reminder of the islands birth, "Do not use in an earthquake".

The walking is fantastic. 900m meters up the side of the cliff the Levada, a man-made water course, runs around the mountain. The retaining wall forms the path. Often 2m, but frequently only half a metre wide, the path winds round the mountain for 6.5km. The cliff towers hundreds of metres above - and drops hundreds of metres to the valley floor below. Trees grow out, almost at right-angles to get to the light.

Crouched over, torches on, we enter another tunnel; rough-hewn with pick and shovel, the Levada carries the water on its way. Later, sitting beside the plunge pool, enchanted and over-awed, as water cascaded 70m meters from one of the many waterfalls, we sat and ate our lunch.

The coastal cliff walks are equally spectacular. Saddles link a string of volcanos, the paths sometimes going over, sometimes around, constantly revealing exciting views.

Not content with walking over, or around, we walked into the volcano. Discovered only 50yrs ago, the tunnels created by lava flows lead deep into the mountain. Now open to all, they're fascinating, and very well supported by films and displays. As for the two Ronnies...the film was good too.

But we must move on. Ilhas Desertas, and the Ilhas Selvagens beckon.

Madeira

600M SW of Gib lies a volcanic island....

The Atlantic Ocean is ringred with islands. The Madeiran archipelago has two inhabited main islands, and several smaller ones now designated Marine Conservation Areas. Consequently yachts visiting the smaller islands require a permit.

Your first ocean passage is always memorable, and that first landfall, special. Moira's first was Porto Santos, 30M north of Madeira. It was also our first in Avocette, and what a wonderful island to land on.

Christoper Columbus lived here too. This small volcanic, and arid, island is beautiful. The natives friendly and the climate great. The beach, all 9km of it, is better that any in the Caribbean - and empty! A tour of the island is a must; beautiful beaches give way to dramatic cliffs, and dormant volcanos tower over them all.

The small marina sits in the corner of the NATO built harbour. Very strong downdrafts fall off the hills from pre-dawn to mid-day testing the fenders to their limits.

Away in the distance Madeira calls. Heads'l unrolled, Avocette slipped quietly south.

What a contrast. Madeira is bigger, even higher, with lush green vegetation cascading dowm into the sea. The island is a maze of steep valleys and high volcanic hills. Houses and vegetation cling to the rock. The walking is fantastic, driving challenging, and the bus rides scarier than Alton Towers!

Gibraltar to Porto Santos

It was sad to leave Gibraltar (who would have believed it). But we came away with a prize; Moira is a graduate of Hercules Sailing School, a fine sailor and fun company. She will be staying with us until Gran Canaria where she hopes to join a boat for the Atlantic Rally for Cruisers.

Departing the coast of Morocco was a busy evening; if each one of those fishing boats catch just one fish each …. they haven’t caught them all, Moira caught a Bonito the following day; a very tasty lunch.

The task of steering for the five day crossing was assigned to Carly. We have two kinds of self-steering: the Autohelm (George) and Hydovane (Carly Simon – You’re so Vain). George operates the main rudder to follow a pre-programmed compass course, this requires battery power: Carly uses a vane to control her own rudder in order to keep the boat at a constant angle to the wind. As wind direction is rarely constant for long it is necessary for the crew to periodically check the course.

We are now sat in the marina at Porto Santos (a small rocky island some thirty miles north of Madeira). The marina is next to one of the nicest beaches I have seen; topless seems to be the norm. Afternoon sorted.

The Rock of Gibraltar

Track Avocette across the oceans

We are signed up to Yotreps, a yacht tracking service, you can see our daily position, complete with google earth map at:

http://www.pangolin.co.nz/yotreps/tracker.php?ident=Avocette

Just a quickie - got to go for a beer.

The wind has been solidly in the west for the last few days, keeping us firmly in Gib. but it has enabled us to catch-up on the washing,get some jobs done on the boat (How I miss being able to pop into Chris Hornseys!!!), and make new friends.

Thanks to some American friends John & Shirlee, on SY Solstice, we have now joined "yotreps". This is a NZ site that enables you to see exactly where we are - even mid-ocean - so long as I send in our daily position. Have a google,yotreps, then look for Avocette, and/or call sign MLEY4.

Chris & Mandy, who run a great sailing school, "Hercules Sailing", and just happen to be old friends of Roy's, have been great. They've helped us to get the spares with the least effort. Their sailing school is worth serious consideration if you fancy doing a course in the sun!

I popped into the Royal Gibraltar Yacht Club to see if there was any Victory racing to be had but, to my dismay, their season has finished too! It's 26'C, water temp. 22'C, blowing F4, with blue sky and sunshine, and their boats are being lifted for the "winter"!!!!

Guess we had better head south before we get snowed in...

The Pillars of Hercules

The entrance to the Med is dramatic. The Rock of Gibraltar stands proud on the European side. The Atlas Mountains in Africa. Together they are, as tradition has it, the Pillars of Hercules. Sailing across the busy Straights we head for a new continent - Africa.

Interestingly the Spanish get very upset at the English ownership of the Rock, yet there, 15M away, a spit of land juts out from Morocco, into the Med. It's the Spanish enclave of Ceuta. A tax free zone, governed by Spain! I wonder how the Moroccans feel?

Flying fish scatter in all directions as we hug the Moroccan coast down to Smir, a big marina, exuding wealth and prosperity. Customs stamp our passports, and we hire a guide, Ahmed, and a taxi, to take us up into the mountains to Tetauen.

The city of Tetauen is a mix of impossing new build, with banks and highrise apartments, but up on the hillside is the Casbah, the old town, and the souks.

The streets of the old town, 5-700 years old, are narrow, winding, cobbled lanes, are roofed over. Natural light breaks through only where the street is open to the sky so that you can see the Minnerette of one of the many tiny Mosques. We pass several stand pipes, each set in ornate tiles - the only source of water for most of the houses! Wide, but low, wooden doors, studded with heavy bolts, and with medeival sized keys, hid the interiors of the houses from our view.

Donkeys, traditional beasts of burden, carry logs up to the baker. The only source of fuel for his oven.

Ahmed takes to the house of Abdul, the carpet sellor. We sit, drinking mint tea while he displays his wares. With great flourish, carpets of all sizes and colours are spread before us. It was inevitable - we had to buy! So then the bartering started...

Re-emerging back into the dimly lit streets we found them transformed. The souk was in full swing. Doors had opened to reveal tiny workshops, everything was on sale. Fresh (?) meat and fish, shared the little space with second-hand shoes, vegetables, and recycled household goods. Spoil from the slabs was washed into the street to create a memorable smell to the noise, as people bustled about their daily business.

Morocco is clearly changing, forcing its way into the modern world.

We had to leave Morocco for the posh Spanish resort of Estapona, in the Med, to refill our gas bottles - the only place for propane since England. Then it was back to Gib for Jim to fly home.

We knew we were back in "England" - it pissed down!

It's Friday night, in a square, in Cadiz.

All ages were there. The kids played games, from football to chess. Teenagers showed off their skills in break dancing, graffiti art, and skateboarding. The aduults, chatted, drank coffee or beer, and looked on.

1470M to Gibraltar

Average rainfall less than one day a year

At last the Potuguese trades have kicked in. The NW force 4-6 saw us romp down the coast from Cascais to Lagos surfing down the 3m swells at 9kts, and averaging 7 1/2for the trip. Rounding Cabo Sao Vincente in the small hours saw us into Lagos,and the Algarve.

Part of the fun of cruising is the places you see, and part is the people you meet. We'd only been tied-up for an hour, when we were invited for sundowners, which turned into dinner, onboard Bodic, owned by Nigel and Sue's, friends we had made back in Villagarcia.

It wasn't just the temperature that noticably went up in the Algarve, the marina prices soared, 65 Euros in Villamoura - we didn't stop - choosing instead to anchor in the vast shallows of Faro where we caught our supper. The mullet were great sport, and tasted delicious, but it was time to go.

Cadiz is a great city. The beautiful town squares are packed with people enjoying the warm evenins. Children play games, even chess, street dance, and skate board, while their parents, and grandparents, drink coffee, have a beer, and chat long into the night.

Dawn o'clock saw us out of Cadiz, heading south past Cape Trafalgar. Ahead loomed the Atlas Mountains - Africa.

It's hot here in Gibraltar, very hot. but we have jobs to do on the boat, so Morocco will have to wait.

From Tapas to Sardines

After Phil joined in Vilagarcia we cruised the misty Rias for a few days.

The Rias are fabulous. It's like cruising the Scottish lochs without fleeces or midges. Dramatic hills cascade down creating deep and challenging anchorages off secluded sandy beaches. The bars in old town's narrow streets providing refreshment and free tapas to weary sailors.

From Baiona's yacht club set within the castle walls we headed south. The high hills of Spain becoming the sand-dunes of Portugal. From the ancient town of Viana Do Castelo, with its friendly natives, and fish quays, to the bustling narrow streets of Porto, famed for it's Port houses, we enjoyed them all.

Over night w sailed down to Nazare. Dolphins played, porpoises slapped their tails as they chases the sardines around the boat in a feeding frenzie.

We're lifting the boat this afternoon to replace the anodes. Then its off to Lisboa......

Spanish Airforce bombs English yacht

Dark o´clock in the morning we slipped out of La Coruna, bound for Cape Finisterre, and on to the Rias. Dawn broke to find us sailing along the stunningly beautiful and rugged north coast in a 3m swell. the renouned Cape was just around the corner but we never saw it. We saw nothing. Fog shrouded the land. Only as we reached the Ria Muros did it reappear in all its splendor. No sin found in Portosin, we´try the Ria Arousa.

Round the ragged rocks we quietly sailed up through the Ria.

The drone of a low flying aircraft turned our heads astern. The flyingboat was at less than 100 ft, heading directly at us. As it passed astern it dumped its load of water. Hundreds of gallons crashed into the sea just metres astern. Not content with that it turned, dropped, scooped up another load and headed back - and bombed us again.

We are now at Vilagarcia awaiting the arrival of Phil. Close by the Marina is a tower block with a classic Spanish vila for the penthouse, surreal or self indulgent but fun to look at.

Dolphins for lunch

Biscay

We left Camaret in glorious sunshine but light winds so motored through the Raz and into Biscay. Then motored, and motorsailed ........ Dolphins came to play. Big tuna leaped madly as they chased their prey - big fish! I fished and caught.... a garfish.

30 miles NW of La Coruna the engine spluttered and died - we had run out of fuel. We finally tied-up in the new La Coruna marina at 0330hrs 5th Sept boy did that beer taste good!

Lots of photos to come.

From Belgium thro Holland to Whitby

Spike, Kate and Oscar

This time we turn right..........and then head south.

The North Sea was great.....especially Holland. We have made Avocette ready, had the party - thanks Mark for organising, Nicki and Marie for the food, PSC for the use of the club, and you for coming. It was great to see you all.

Autumn seems to be early this year so it's time to go. Time to head south. Time to follow the sun...... don't get jealous, there's room on the boat for you too. Rates are reasonable Roy prefers rum and I'm not fussy!

Looks like there will be a window in the weather this friday/saturday so I guess we'll take it:)

Hartlepool Tall Ships Race

It's summer here - so we are told. Only the one fleece required. A bit like their facilities - the showers are either cold or freezing. The wind threaten to go SE F8 for our return south - no suprises there then. Mean while we are enjoying the Tall Ships. Lots to see, and friends to make. Good to see Rona II from the Hamble here.

We had dinner on HMS Trincomalee sat night. She is awesome - fully refitted, copper bottomed, afloat, and ready for sea. It's fantastic to stand on an 1817 frigate, as Nelson would have done, and to feel the decks move beneath you.

Wifi - all marinas advertise it. Sadly they dont have it! Internet cafes? They don't exist either. I'm now sitting in a McDonalds (1st time ever!!!!) using their McCloud.

We're hoping to start heading south tomorrow, so we may see you before we up-date this again.

Apparently we are having a party in Portsmouth Sailing Club on the 21st Aug to say good bye and head south for the sun and adventures new. See you there.

The Adventure begins............

Hellen dived under the boat to clean the prop. Marie Soibhan rafted alonside, and we were stowing the kit, when Tony Harvey thrust a case of the red stuff into my arms. An evening with family and friends in the club bar made a great send off. Thanks for the Talisker Pete. Thanks to all for coming down.

The first rays of the sun pierced the dawn as we slipped out of the harbour - well OK perhaps it was nearer 8.00. Horse Sand Fort, then the Owers and Selsey Bill slipped astern. A Plan is only valid til first contact with the enemy. So Fecamp and Boulogne slipped quietly by on the other side of La Manche, as we reached up-channel at 8-9kts. Rounding-up we dropped sails entered our first lock and friendly Dutch hands took our lines. Yes, Eastbourne is a great stop whichever way you are traveling up/down the channel.

It was great to have friends, Kate and Spike with their little lad Oscar for drinks that evening, followed by Ray and John to lunch the next day.

The sun was hot, the sky blue, but the wind did not come out to play as we motored up to Dungeness and crossed to France. Dunkerque was, well French. Lots of industrial archaeology, but not much else. Belgium has 39 miles of coast. Been there, done that. Nieuwpoot was worth a stop, a small town, nice people, and the best moules ever in the KYCN.

Middelburg is a lovely town. Interesting architecture, and friendly natives. Avocette is tied-up in the canal having entered Holland via Vlissengen yesterday.

Now, where's that mouse, the little one with clogs on..............

Mmmm...Lunch......Fishing

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