We started December in Puerto Calero, Lanzarote. Having, for our current lifestyle, had a
hectic week – Elsie doing her Day Skipper practical and me flying to U.K. and
back, we planned a chill-out and we knew just the place: La Graciosa. The anchorage here is in a conservation zone
and requires permission. The system for
granting this seems designed to make it almost impossible for the cruising
yachtsman who relies on the vagaries of the weather: application must be made, in writing, at
least 10 days in advance on a form available only in Spanish. Fortunately, I had had time to spare while in
Rubicon. I found the form online;
completed it, with the aid of Google translate and sent it to the correct
person. 48 hours later – nothing. So I went to the marina office and the
helpful lass picked up the phone and after a 5 minute phone call, 4 ½ minutes
of which seemed to be about hair, children and plans for Christmas, she assured
me that it was all arranged.
We timed our departure from Calero to get the best winds,
which were forecast to be SE’ly F4 from late morning, backing to E’ly in the
afternoon. The directions were fulfilled
but it was lighter than forecast so it was late afternoon before we arrived at
the Estrecho del Rio, the strait between Lanzarote and La Graciosa. The wind now veered and increased and, as we
passed under the cliffs it was a gusty SSE’ly F6. This was blowing directly towards the
anchorage and we seriously considered continuing west and spending the night
safe at sea. When we arrived at Playa
Francesca, however, it had reverted to a light South-Easterly. The anchorage, which a month before had been
full, was now deserted. Did everyone
else know better? We decided not, though
we did put out extra chain on our main anchor and laid a second, just in
case. In fact, it was a very quiet
night, with the wind boxing the compass and putting a full twist in our anchor
cables. It then settled from the east
and we lay nicely to the kedge anchor for the next few days. A couple of other yachts, which had been
anchored (illegally) under the cliffs when we arrived, joined us the following
day, and tourist catamarans visited daily but it was otherwise a very peaceful
interlude with the biggest exertion being the afternoon dip, followed by a
solar heated shower or, once, a dinghy ashore and 2 mile walk to the local
settlement for fresh provisions and an ice-cream.
After 3 days of lotus eating, we headed south again. Once more, the winds were lighter than
forecast but we managed to (mostly) sail down to the capital, Arecife, to spend
the night in the new marina, with a stroll round town to finish the day. Next day, 6th, we made the jump
down to Gran Tarajal in the south of Fuerteventura. A fine sail for the first 50 miles with 15-20
knots just behind the beam. The wind
then died and we had to motor the last 12 miles. The book says that there is no-one to contact
after 1400, so we just motored in and picked a berth, on the pontoon against
the southern wall. As we tied up, we
noticed a guard in a hi-vis jacket waving at us and braced ourselves for his
visit. We had, apparently broken 5
rules, including not calling him on VHF; not noticing him waving; berthing on
the wrong pontoon and taking a space that could have been used by a
catamaran. I suspect that it was bluster
to impress his trainee and, as no catamarans arrived and the motion on his
choice for our berth was quite pronounced, leading to one finger being broken
off, I didn’t feel too badly. The Port
Captain, when visited the following morning, certainly didn’t seem at all
concerned.
Betancuria
We were now a bit stuck.
It was 90+ miles from here across to Gran Canaria, our next
destination. This is too far for a
daylight crossing, we didn’t want to arrive somewhere new in the dark and the
wind was forecast to die every night for the next week. Morro Jable, 20 miles to the west, was
reputed to very uncomfortable in the current, SE’ly winds. We managed to console ourselves by sitting in
the sun, with a daily walk to town for provisions. After 3 days, I bumped into a local, who told
me that, although the normal pontoons at Moro Jable suffer from the swell, there
are others, used by locals, that are more comfortable. Accordingly, on the 10th, we made
the 20 mile trip and the old pontoons were indeed very calm. We tied up alongside, rather than stern- or
bow-to, as the local boats were. Again,
the Port Captain was very relaxed about this and charged us less than 7 Euros a
night. No water or electricity, but
still a better bargain than those who, inexplicably chose to anchor in the
swell outside, rather than join us. This
time we stayed for 4 days with an afternoon trip across to the standard pontoon
to top up water and batteries and one day with a hire car to explore the
island. The western side had areas of
great charm, including the old village of Betancuria, but much of it is almost
as barren as Lanzarote and doesn’t appeal as a long term destination. I took advantage of our lack of motion to go
up the mast for a couple of jobs, including replacing the TV aerial, which had
fallen off a few weeks before. We now
have 60 odd channels, with nothing worth watching.
Monkey up a stick
Finally, on the 15th, we got a forecast of decent
winds overnight. We cast off at 1500 and
headed south west. Once more, we were
disappointed with the strength of the wind, achieving 3 – 4 knots through the
evening rather than our planned 5 – 6 but we had 24+ hours to make the 80 miles
across. The wind improved after midnight
and Elsie got a good sail through her, 0100 – 0600 watch. We arrived at our destination, Arguineguin,
at 0800. There was, supposedly, an
anchorage in the lee of the harbour but, as often happens, this space is now
taken by moorings for locals. We tried
anchoring but, where there was shelter there was a rocky bottom, with poor
holding and where we managed to dig in, it was uncomfortable in the swell so,
after an hour or so, we picked up and continued the couple of miles to Puerto
Rico. This is a tourist resort with a
commercial marina. Not our usual choice
but there is, on this coast, with this wind, no better alternative. One bonus was a launderette opposite our
pontoon with commercial sized machines having 40 minute cycles. By early afternoon laundry was done, tanks
topped up and all squared away.
After our exertions, we took a day’s rest before hiring a
car for a tour of Gran Canaria. Much
greener than the two eastern islands and a pleasant mountain road up the
western side gave some great views. We
ventured into the capital, Las Palmas, to try to see the marina in case we
wanted to use it in future but while the one=way system allowed us to pass it,
we couldn’t find the exit and after 2 circuits, we gave up and headed down the
east coast. Things did not improve much
as, try as we might to find a pleasant road to follow, each time we left the
motorway we ended up in derelict industrial estates or minor housing
roads. The south east corner of the
island is a huge holiday resort but we managed to find our way through to Arguineguin,
which we had failed to visit by sea, for a very late lunch and mega shop before
returning the car.
On the 20th, we finally got a good sailing wind
and made an early(ish) start across to Tenerife. We had a NE’ly F4-5 on the
beam all the way across and made it to Bahia de Ahona by 1400. We had hoped to find an anchorage here but,
once again, the only usable spot was taken up with local moorings. Fortunately there was plenty of time to carry
on down the coast to Punta Roja, in the lee of which we knew there was a good
spot. We dropped anchor at 1630, having
sailed 57 miles in just over 8 hours and spent a very comfortable night. The following day we headed west again with a
following F6 until passing the south west point of the island where we found ourselves in light airs,
eventually settling down to a light south westerly which took us up the coast
past the fleshpots of Los Cristianos and Adeje to Los Gigantes where it finally
died, leaving us to motor the last few miles to Playa de Masca. This is a tiny bay surrounded by huge
cliffs. Rain was forecast and, sure
enough, it started falling in the valley, leaving us dry but with a rainbow to
enhance the already spectacular scenery.
The icing on the cake was the coastguard helicopter on exercise, rather
than a shout, practicing approaches to various parts of the valley. Given the huge variation of winds along this
coast and the height of the cliffs this must have kept their adrenaline levels
well up.
Coastguard helicopter, Los Gigantes
Although we were very comfortable through the evening,
unfortunately a change of tide in the night put us beam on to the swell and we
were a bit short changed on sleep. The
following morning, we headed back down the coast, again in light westerlies
although the general area wind was from the east. The day was enlivened by large pods of Pilot
Whales. I would call ‘there must be 10
out on my side’ only for Elsie to report 15 on hers. On passing the south west tip, the wind again
switched to Easterly. We had been hoping
to stop in Las Galletas but were told that there was no room so continued on to
San Miguel, a rather soulless marina attached to a golf course. Despite calling ahead by phone, there was no
reply to radio calls, or to the phone on arrival leaving us making a blockage
at the entrance. A flustered mariniero
waved us to a berth just as we overheard a radio exchange in which his boss
assured the skipper of a departing tall ship that the entrance was clear. We fortunately managed to get out of her way
in time. We eventually managed to find a
small supermarket, manned by ex-pats, which provided us with essentials and a
few luxuries, including mince pies.
Another island hop on the 23rd, across to La
Gomera. Winds were forecast to be light
overnight so we chose to anchor at la Cantera, a small bay on the south west
side, served by a footpath and intrepid boats dropping off even more intrepid
back packers. Some of these set off up
the, very large, hill shortly before sunset so I hope that they had a good
plan. Sleep was again disturbed by a
change of tide putting is beam on to the swell and we resolved to become
proficient at Bahamian moors which, with an anchor out at each end, can keep
one head (or stern) to swells.
On Christmas Eve we had a slow sail back round the coast and
up to the Capital, San Sebastian. This
is a very pleasant town with an equally pleasant marina (apart from the ARMAS
ferry which leaves it 2 stroke diesel generator running). We had left ourselves time for shopping but
unfortunately failed to find the big supermarket, which hides under the bus
station, and could find nothing more exciting than frozen mince for our
Christmas dinner. This turned out not to
be a problem as we were parked next to an Irish boat which had a supply of
ice. After a walk round the town on
Christmas day, we joined them for a drink, which turned into several and we
found ourselves wandering ashore at 9 PM for a festive burger.
Needless to say, the 26th was spent recovering. We had hoped to hire a car to explore inland,
but they were all fully booked for over a week ahead so, on the 27th
we set off on a series of very short hops round the coast. As there was a good SWly wind this day, we
zoomed out and back for a couple of hours, to blow away the cobwebs but
anchored only a couple of miles further south at Playa de al Cabrito, a quiet bay with a hotel served by water
taxi. We took the precaution of laying a
second anchor and spent a comfortable night, head to swell. The following day, another couple of miles
south to Playa de la Roja, a small bay served not even by a footpath, though we
dingy-ed ashore for a pleasant walk up the valley. We seemed very protected and
did not lay the second anchor, with predicable results.
We learned the lesson next day another few miles down the
coast at Playa de Chinguarime. This is a
wide bay, a mile or so east of Santiago harbour. We had looked at it on Christmas Eve and
figured that the most comfortable spot would be close to the eastern edge. We set our anchors to keep us aligned with
the edge and put our stern to the swell creeping round the edge, which also
gave us full sun in the cockpit. We
discovered that we could fine-tune the heading by up to 15 degrees by changing
the lead of the kedge (stern) anchor, and spent a couple of very comfortable
nights with a little shopping trip to Santiago on the 30th.
Vueltas
On New Year’s Eve, we continued round the coast, motoring
the 11 miles to Playa de Argaga, just outside Puerto de Vueltas. Like Santiago, there are no pontoons here and
the harbour wall has a bad reputation for shredding fenders and mooring
lines. There are a few berths for bow-
or stern-to mooring and we could possibly have squeezed in here but the
anchorage seemed comfortable enough and there as there was a good place to
leave the dinghy on trips ashore, we were content to stay outside. There was a small care hire shop just outside
the port which provided us with a car for the next couple of days so we went
back aboard and slept through the New Year chimes.
Stats for the month:
Logged: 430 miles
Over ground: 416 miles
Stats for the month:
Logged: 430 miles
Over ground: 416 miles
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