Return Crossing to the Azores

Sun set, sun rise. Night followed day, and the watch rolled around on its two day cycle. We settled into the routine easily. Part of the routine included downloading the weather information. Synoptic charts gave me a clear idea of the evolving situation. Grib files were useful, but carried their warning - they could be in error up to 40%. Thankfully we had the reliable support of Herb. Herb spotted lows developing before the Met forcasts announced their presence. Go East he said, keep south of 35'N.

How sound that advice was to prove. We ducked under lows, and listened to other boats reporting 35, 45, 48kts. Looking north, one big and stubborn low thundered and raged like Mordor (Lord of the Rings) violent red, then orange, with flashes of yellow - intense brightness illuminating the night sky. Thunder clouds rose dramatically to the upper reaches, venting sheet, and forks of lightning throughout the night.

The Miami Hurricane Office has now taken an interest in this Low!

We had some fantastic sailing during the last three days. As the wind moved behind the beam we eased the sheets, and enjoyed the ride. Rarely below seven, often well over eight knots, Avocette was romping through the seas, heading for Horta, on the island of Faial and the Azores.

Entering our nineteenth day at sea, I watched as dawn broke. The sun burst through below the crust of cloud that ringed the edge of the world, and Pico's silouette, 68 miles away, rose starkly from the ocean floor, 2000m above the sea - the Azores. As if in welcome the sea around us errupted. Dolphins lept, tumbled, and splashed as they called, welcoming us to the Islands.

Shearwters joined in the fun as the sky shed its stars and turned an unbroken blue.

It will be good to get in. The boat has worked hard, and there are repairs to do. As we close the islands, it's like watching an artist paint a picture. First the outline shape, then, imperseptably at first, the detail, then colours start to appear. The patchwork of fields takes on different hues, a little green here, darker there, a splash of yellow...Up above wispy cirrus invades the blue slowly forming little patches of mackeral sky.

It's nineteen days since we left Antigua and we have yet to tack! We have reefed, and shaken them out - many times.We have sailed around squalls and low pressure systems hundreds of miles wide - but never tacked nor gybed.

PS. Yes the beer does taste good!