November2016

In which we cut our bonds to Europe and head down to Cape Verde Islands

November 2016 started with Ruby in Santa Cruz, Tenerife. Lionel was in the U.K. for routine medical checks and family visits and Elsie was on board, organising provisioning and having some overdue dental work done.

Lionel returned on the 7^th with usual small chandlery items, including Caribbean flags and a piece of marine ply. This latter was for an attempt to re-fit the lower wind steering gear bracket. On the voyage from Gibraltar this had moved, sheering a bolt. The hope was that by substituting a wooden packing piece for the existing plastic, the bracket would be more firmly held, enabling us to actually use the system on ocean passages. A happy day was spent trimming, sanding and varnishing before re-installing the bracket. We also had a major shop for dry stores as we were sure that these would be either much more expensive or unobtainable over the next few months. Ruby is blessed with many spaces beneath the floorboards, seats and beds and these were well packed though even with our best efforts, we could still have fitted more in.

One of several food stores!

One of the major items was bottled water. We have 330 litres in the main tanks and, with practice, we have learned to extend the duration of this from about 4 days to over 2 weeks. We have a sea water pump in the galley sink and, when at sea, this is used to wash everything – dishes, clothes and ourselves - before a final rinse with fresh water. This should mean that, for our planned voyages, we should have sufficient but ‘should be OK’ is not good enough in the middle of the ocean so we bought 20 X 5 litre bottles so that, if all else failed, we would not get dehydrated. The weight of this, together with 4 cases of beer and 20 litres of wine was definitely having an effect on our water line.

The weekend of the 11^th - 13^th was spent attending a series of seminars with the Jimmy Cornell Odyssey organisation. Jimmy was the originator of the ARC (Atlantic Rally for Cruisers). He has passed this on now but still organises smaller rallies of 20-30 yachts. Having made countless ocean voyages and supervised literally thousands of others he is definitely someone who knows what he is talking about and we were grateful to be able to pick up what tips we could from him and his team. We were re-assured to find that we had got most things right in our preparations but took enough new stuff away to make it 3 days well spent.

Monday was spent with final provisioning for our leg down to Cape Verde Islands, including lots of fresh fruit and veg and a new fishing lure. As we were settling our bill with the marina, we spotted an advert for anchor chain. A German couple had bought 70 metres of 10mm chain, only to discover that their spurling pipe wouldn’t accept anything larger than 8mm. Our existing chain was both a little short, at 50 M and worn, with the galvanising being almost exhausted over much of its length. It would last another year or so but the price asked for this length was so attractive that we decided to go for it and our evening was spent checking that it would fit our windlass and stowing it in the chain locker. Elsie wasn’t convinced that it was a perfect fit so we were loath to dump our existing chain before proper trials and we now had an additional 200 kg on board. As this was at the bow and the beer in the cockpit locker, I reasoned that at least we would be well trimmed!

We finally left Santa Cruz at 1100 on the 15^th. The forecast winds to the South were not good but the atmosphere with dozens of other aspiring Atlantic crossers making their own final preparations and having their own doubts was starting to affect us so we wanted to get away. We had a good sail down the Tenerife coast, starting stately in a F3 and finishing spiritedly in a F5, broad reaching all the way to anchor at our familiar place at Montana Roja. The plan was to spend a couple of days here and then pop across to La Gomera for a top-up of fuel, water and fresh food before our crossing. On the evening of the 17^th, however, the forecast showed that the following morning would give us our best chance of good winds for the foreseeable future so made the decision to go for it. Accordingly, we lifted anchor at 0900 and motored the 3 miles to San Miguel to top up on fuel. There was the usual chaos here, but only wasted 20 minutes or so and at 1010 cast off and headed south.

This was a major decision point. Up to this now, we knew that we could change our minds, spend another winter in the Canaries and remain in Europe. We were now losing that possibility – we were committed to the big crossing!

There are many debates about what sails to set for downwind passages. The ‘conventional’ way was two headsails, wing-on-wing or in tandem but Jimmy Cornell had impressed upon us that this was far from ideal as, once in a big swell, hoisting the main might prove impossible and heaving-to would become impossible if required. His view is that a main, however well reefed, is required at all times and we were happy to accept his wisdom so set off with 2 reefs in main and Genoa in a F6 quartering wind. This gave us a flying start and we averaged nearly 8 knots for the first couple of hours. The wind gradually abated as we left the land affect but for the following 36 hours we had at least F4, giving us about 6.5 knots. On the morning of the 19^th, we shook out one reef, putting it back in that evening for the night watches. This proved to be wise as, for the rest of the passage, there were periods when the wind rose to over 20 knots and it was much easier, on single handed watches, to adjust power using just the furling genoa. The average wind, however, dropped and with it our speed. The first day’s run was 159 miles; this was followed by 143, 123, 114 and 122 mile days. Not classic by any means but we had plenty of food and water and no deadline to meet. Our progress was monitored by my kind brother-in-law who got twice-daily messages of our position, course and speed with instructions of what to do if they stopped! This almost failed when one of our messages went, inexplicably, to his spam box, but he queried us and we were able to re-assure him that all was well. Our new Iridium Go hotspot device was also used to download daily weather forecasts. While these were not totally accurate, at least we were re-assured that nothing nasty was heading our way.

We had not shipped our wind-steering rudder and were relying on George. The battery monitor showed that we were building up big amp-hour deficits and ran our little petrol generator daily to try to close this. This was only partially successful as the charging rate dropped sooner than expected. As the voltage was holding up well, there seemed to be a miss-setting somewhere but we were loath to run the batteries down and damage them. The big deficit continued after our arrival. We knew that, with the wind and sun that we were experiencing, we should be reducing it but it continued to increase. Nothing to do but continue to monitor the situation until we could have 24 hours on shore power and know that we were fully charged. Something else that we had picked up from Jimmy Cornell was to set the autopilot to wind angle rather than compass heading. This may result in a slight meander but it means you don’t have to keep re-trimming the sails to sail efficiently. It also means that, if there is a squall and big wind shift, you should keep the same wind angle and not round up – this could result in an even greater apparent wind speed with attendant dangers. A further benefit is said to be reduced steering movement and power consumption.

At mid-day on the 23^rd we had 95 miles to go and with the wind now forecast to continue at 15knots on the beam, we decided to reduce sail and speed to ensure a daylight arrival. This, of course, put the jinx on the wind. It dropped and backed until we had less than 10 knots from directly astern and we even had to motor for an hour or so. It did pick up again in the small hours and we arrived off our destination, Palmeira at first light on the 24^th. All the best anchoring spots were taken but we found a place not too far out.

It would have been nice to just collapse but I didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot with the authorities so the dinghy was dug out of the locker and inflated. Motored ashore to land at the little dock where the locals land their fish from open boats. The fish is cleaned then and there so the dock is a little ripe with scales, gills etc. I had not visited Africa for over 25 years but the village was immediately recognisable as belonging to that continent; the unpaved streets, buildings either unfinished or brightly painted, shops with small, barred windows. I was neck-and-neck with a Frenchman who had arrived the night before and was on the same mission. While I located the building which the pilot book suggested would hold the port officials, he looked in the one next door, which actually housed them so got ahead of me in the queue. This would be the story for the next couple of days, with lots of time spent waiting, having missed my turn by seconds. However, my old experience of Africa stood me in good stead: be patient, it would be good to do the job today, but tomorrow is also a good day. Paperwork completed, after a mere hour or so, I moved on to the next task: water carrying. From now on, we would be relying on carrying all our water to the boat, except when in a marina and there was only one of those in the whole island group. Most houses have no running water and there is a village ‘fontanerio’ to fill cans, buckets etc. Most of it is carried away 100 litres at a time in wheelbarrows so I looked a little pitiful with my 20 litre carrier, but every little counts. It was then time to return for that much needed rest. We made another foray ashore later, to show Elsie the village and get more water but the fontanario was locked for the night. We were met at the fish dock by a teenager who offered to look after our dinghy. I tipped him a Euro and his wide grin told me that this was over-generous but it didn’t seem a lot to spend to share a little joy around. I also ferried a couple of local fishermen from their boats to shore so, hopefully, we did no damage to the reputation of European sailors.

On Friday, we decided to make a morning trip to the big town, Espargos where wonderful things like banks and supermarkets could be found. After one round trip with the dinghy to get another 30 litres of water, we found the way to town. We were hailed by a passing minibus which then did a tour round the village picking up more passengers before heading off and dropping us just outside the town centre. This area was again very African, though the centre itself looked more European. We had a good walk round and did a little shopping before returning. Although it was now 10 days since we had provisioned in Santa Cruz, we still had fresh fruit and veg on board – very encouraging, so it was mostly fresh (or, rather, frozen) meat and a few treats. We had noticed mobile phone shops and I decided that I needed to get a data SIM card, so we returned to the town in the afternoon, hoping to spend 15 minutes getting this and then spending a leisurely hour over a beer downloading a weeks worth of ‘The Archers’ and other stuff at a bar we had spotted advertising free WiFi. I went into the first phone shop, but there was a bit of a queue. Elsie returned a few minutes later to report that the other shop had no queue and an assistant who spoke perfect English, so we moved to there, only to find that a queue had now formed. After half-an-hour’s wait, I got my SIM at a very good price. It was Black Friday and there was a special promotion. Elsie insisted that they activated it for me. A good idea as 90 minutes later they had not managed this task – it seemed that everyone else on the Islands had taken up the offer and the system had crashed. So, back to shop 1 where I eventually got connected. We did go for our beer and ‘Archers’ download but had to cut it a bit short as it was getting near sunset and we try to avoid dinghy travelling in the dark.

Queueing for water

The controller of the fontenario

On Saturday, we had an early trip ashore for bread and water. While looking for the former, we came across a family butchering a pig on the front verandah, not something you see every day at home. Final farewells were made to the lady at the fontanario and to our boat watcher, Gonias. We then heaved up and proceeded 5 miles down the coast to Mordiera, a beautiful bay where spent the next couple of days in almost perfect isolation. The only thing missing was the sun, with overcast skies and frequent light showers. As this end of the Island group is basically desert (the drinking water comes from a de-salination plant) the locals were probably pleased but our tans needed topping up. Instead of doing this, we spent Sunday on little maintenance tasks including a new joker valve for the heads. Anyone familiar with marine loos will know about the joy of this and the associated de-scaling. Others will probably prefer not to.

On Monday we heaved up and headed south to the next Island, Boavista. The wind was forecast to be light so we left early. In fact it was perfect, with 15 knots just behind the beam and we had a fine passage, anchoring just to the south of Porto Sal Rei shortly after 1400. A hurried lunch and dinghied ashore to find the port officials. Their office was closed and looked as though it had been for some time. A bit of research that evening suggested that they had moved to the main port but when we went there the following morning, no interest was shown so we concluded that we had made an honest attempt and gave up. After the joy of Palmeira, there was a depressed air about Sal Rei. The poverty may not be worse and, judging from the lack of water carrying, the facilities may even be better but there was not the same feeling of happiness. Tourism, albeit on a small scale, has reached the town and possibly the inhabitants are suffering the envy from seeing not only those with much more but those locals who are making a good living from the visitors. On Wednesday, we hired an aluguer (pick-up with seating in the flat bed) for a half day tour of the north part of the island, visiting a (very small) sandy desert, complete with locusts. From under a bush emerged a local artist with his sand pictures with which we were very taken but we have a rule of no souvenirs so I just took a couple of photos (and made a small donation). We also visited a couple of very well kept villages and saw the local agriculture which consists of free range goats and the occasional acre or so of market garden, surrounded by wind- and animal- proof fencing. Our driver, who spoke excellent English, came from one of the villages and said that he would rather be there, tending crops but agreed that the money from driving was much better. It was a very enjoyable trip apart from the spiders. Where the road passed between bushes, there were huge webs with dozens of monsters lurking. As there are no large vehicles using the roads we, sitting outside, passed inches below these. On the way ‘home’ we bought a bottle of the local Grog, a spicy 92% proof rum. Definitely an acquired taste.

 Aluguer

 Boavista road

 Elsie in the desert

Sand art

Monthly stats:

Logged 885 miles

Over ground 845 miles

October 2016

In which we head back to the Canaries, in preparation for our Atlantic crossing.

October opened with us tied up in Alcadiesa marina, La Linea, just across the runway from Gibraltar. The main engine had a 200 hour service, we got new service batteries and performed a few other maintenance tasks, but were basically waiting for the best weather for crossing to the Canary Islands.

Gibraltar from La Linea

There were several other yachts on the pontoon with the same end, so we would have daily chats about the prospects.  Monday 3^rd looked good but for us, with time to spare before our next appointment in Tenerife, four weeks later, a better plan would be to head out to Madeira first, broad reaching, rather than the slower dead run to Lanzarote.  The ideal time to leave, for tides and winds through the Gibraltar straits, was mid-morning.  If we averaged 5 knots, we would arrive PM on the7th; if 6 knots then AM 7^th.  This gave us good prospects of a daylight arrival so we set off at 0900.  Leaving with us was a 38 Ft catamaran, Dana de Mer, with which we had become friendly over the past week, although they were heading straight to the Canaries.

After the first hour, when we had to motor out of Gibraltar bay, we had an easy passage of the strait with the NEly wind building to F5 at the western end and then F6 as we exited the traffic separation scheme and headed down the African coast, which we did on a goose-winged dead run. At 1700, it was time to say goodbye to Dana de Mer, alter course 30 degrees to starboard and head towards Madeira on a broad reach. The wind was forecast to be just behind the beam, F3-4 for the next 48 hours, dying a little as we approached our destination. The first night went well and we were averaging nearly 7knots.

 We hoped that we now had our electrics sorted and reckoned that we had sufficient wind and sun generation to last indefinitely at anchor.  It’s a different matter under way.  We need power for all the navigation equipment and also the autopilot.  We have wind steering but have never really used it properly.  To start with, the installation was too flimsy; we got that sorted in Rhu. Then there is the additional rudder. This has great safety benefits for emergency back-up but it makes our already sluggish manoeuvring under power much worse and we have avoided installing it on shorter passages where we might need to enter a strange harbour.  We had fitted the Hydrovane rudder before departure and, the following day, decided that it was time to give it a meaningful trial.  The conditions were ideal and immediately Hattie steered a better course than George, giving us a better speed as well as saving us power. Hurrah!  Then the noise started. At first it was just an occasional click as the rudder went hard over, then we noticed that the top bracket was working against the hull.  I tightened all the bolts, the clicking stopped, so we continued.  A few hours later, the noise started again and Elsie was alarmed to see that the lower bracket was now moving not only sideways but also away from the hull.  We immediately reverted to George, removed the windvane and re-tightened the bolts (or 3 of them, 1 rotated and it wasn’t safe to hold the outer end in the current conditions). The wind continued to co-operate and we continued to achieve 7 knots over the ground meaning that, despite our planning, we would be arriving in the dark. We half joked, with 18  hours to go, that if we altered course 100 degrees to port, we would be set for a fine broad reach to La Graciosa. We arrived at Porto Santo at 2200 on the 6^th, with the moon in the first quarter giving us a little light and dropped anchor just outside the port, intending to enter in the morning.

We had a quick check of the weather in the morning.  Horror!  The Northerly wind that we were expecting to blow for most of the next 2 weeks had been replaced by calms, interspersed with strong southerlies.  This left is with a dilemma: while we had no urgent appointments, I had a flight booked from Tenerife in a little over 3 weeks and, on the current forecast, if we did not leave now, there was no clear prospect of sailing winds in that direction for at least 2 weeks.  Porto Santo is pleasant, but we had seen quite a bit of it earlier in the year; we wanted to spend more time in Funchal, but it is very busy and does not accept bookings. You just have to call on a daily basis to see if there is a vacancy.  Being at anchor through the southerly winds was not an option, as there are no suitable anchorages sheltered from that direction.

A strong cup of coffee later and a quick inventory (food, water, fuel), a decision was made.  Off came the wind steering rudder; up came the anchor; up went the sails and off we went again.  A year before, a voyage of 270 miles would have been carefully discussed and planned but we now feel comfortable with just checking essentials.  Unfortunately, the decrease in wind had now happened and although we were beam reaching, it was at 4-5 knots rather than 7+.  Even this died the following morning and we had to motor for 3 hours.  It was galling to see that we were only 100 miles away from where we had been from where we had been 48 hours earlier.  So it goes. On the 9^th the wind picked up again and we arrived at our favourite anchorage at La Graciosa in time for lunch.  As it is so popular and this was peak arrival time for Atlantic crossers, we were a little concerned as to whether we would find a spot but, while it was a lot busier than it had been in March, there was plenty of room. Dana de Mer, from Gibraltar, was already there, with her skipper, Jage, organising the social scene and, after a much needed nap, we were given a lift ashore for a sundowner party to meet the rest of the gang.  This is one of the things that we love about our life style.  We are not naturally gregarious but the easy friendships made with our fellow cruisers, exchanging experiences and general chat complements our alone time nicely.

A happy Elsie records arrival at La Graciosa

We stayed for 4 nights. Of course, during this time, the wind forecast changed, so that we could have easily spent 10 days at Madeira and had a good sail down.   On the 13th, with a NNWly forecast we set off for the other end of Lanzarote.  We had made this voyage of 35 miles 4 ½ years earlier on Fumeke, Ruby’s little sister chartered locally.  It was then our longest ever trip and felt daunting; now it was like popping out for a pint of milk. A great close, then beam, reach down with 1 reef in main and Genoa in a F4 which increased F6 as we turned at Pta. Petchigura to give us up to 10 knots surfing on a broad reach over flat seas.  Anchored of Marina Rubicon in time for a late lunch and to watch those who had left before us and motored down the sheltered eastern side of the island arrive and enter the marina.  After 3 nights at anchor here, with just one dinghy trip ashore for groceries, we picked up and headed into the marina.  The wind was forecast to change to a southerly for a few hours, which would have been uncomfortable for us.  We also had been at sea for 13 days so needed water and some shore power to top up the battery bank.  We spent 2 nights in the marina achieving these essentials, together with a little maintenance and a catch-up with others from La Graciosa.  I looked again at the wind steering and discovered why one bolt was rotating: it had sheered inside the casting.  This was very worrying as, if Elsie had not spotted the movement, the whole lower end could have broken away leading us to possibly lose the steering gear and the skin of the gas locker with it.  On the 18th, we headed out again, this time to anchor off the beach at Papagayo.  The wind was forecast to be a steady F3-4 N’ly for the following 36 hours, which would give us a comfortable night and a good sail down the coast of Fuerteventura the following day. Unfortunately it died, leaving us to swing and roll uncomfortable overnight and gave us a slow start for our onward journey. The wind did pick up at mid-day on the 19^th giving us a good afternoon of sailing to arrive at Gran Tarajal at 1600.  We intended to enter the port but, to our surprise, the bay to the east was flat calm so we elected to anchor off.

And there we stayed, anchored outside for 4 nights, then inside for 3 as the wind changed to southerly.  We were watching the weather for our passage to Tenerife, where I needed to be for the end of the month.  The southerly winds were forecast to decrease and back a little on the afternoon of the 26^th and, according to predict wind, our latest planning tool, we should be reaching all the way and make an average of 7 knots.  We were a little sceptical of this, having sailed a bit in the Canaries and knowing something about the effects of the islands on the winds.  Nonetheless, we decided to give it a go as the next window, to actually sail rather than motor was the day before we needed to arrive and I’m not sure my nerve would hold.  So, we cast off at 1800 and headed out through the entrance, which was still pretty wild from the earlier wind.  Our scepticism proved correct.  Sure, the wind died. Unfortunately to about 5 knots and, instead of backing, it veered to head us, forcing us to motor down the coast.  After a couple of hours, it did back to right astern, 8 knots, still not good enough to sail.  This lasted until the tip of the island (just as we expected) where it swung round to the beam and increased to 15 knots, giving Elsie a cracking beam reach with one reef in main and genoa.  By 5 AM this had increased to over 20 knots and she called the watch below (me) to assist in putting in the second reef.  Having dressed, I stayed up and enjoyed the sail for the next 3 hours until we reached the lee of Gran Canaria.   No surprise that it backed and decreased, despite the forecast, and we were back to motoring for the following 3 hours.  Again, it was Elsie who got the ‘spirited’ sail, touching over 9 knots and achieving an average of 7.9 for one two hour period, our highest ever sustained speed.  I’m not sure that she appreciated my generosity in allowing her the ‘fun’ but she did get a little back by watching, as we approached Santa Cruz, a rogue wave come over and drench me standing at the wheel.  Into the marina at a civilised 15:00 and parked for our longest stay anywhere since we left Inverness over 18 months earlier.  

Monthly stats

logged              1063
over ground     1060

September 2016

 In which we continue westwards, through the Balearics to Gibraltar

September started with us anchored in a bay to on the east of Isola de Sant’ Antioco, Sardinia.  Once again, we were waiting for a weather window for a passage and had time to take things easy.  We picked up anchor at 12:50 and had a pleasant, into-wind, sail round the bottom of that island and up to I. di S. Petro, again anchoring in a small bay.  On the second, we decided to go into Carloforte, the largest town on the island.  It was only 4 miles up the coast, so we didn’t bother with sails and just motored.  The pilot book suggested that we could tie up, for free, on the town wall but, as so often happens, this information was out of date.  The space was occupied by a marina which charged us 40 Euros per night, quite reasonable by Italian standards and gave us water and power.  The Town turned out to be very pleasant, with usual tourist stuff near the harbour but a picturesque old quarter on the hill behind.  We took full advantage of the water to wash all our ropes, which had become salt encrusted over the summer, together with a good wash down of Ruby.  We also went ashore for our final genuine Italian pizza of the year.

Ropes hanging out to dry, Carloforte.

The forecast was for a good wind for crossing to Menorca on the 6^th but it looked as though we would get a better angle to use it if we started further north.  We believed that we could get a beam reach, on the 3^rd, for the 40 miles up to Oristano bay, so did a good shop before departure and left at 12:30.  Unfortunately, the wind was 45 degrees off and, even close hauled, we couldn’t quite make it up the coast without tacking so it was a motor-sail for much of the way to arrive at sunset to a bay to the north east of Capo San Marco. Here, there were many mooring buoys laid, anchoring being prohibited to protect the Posidonia (sea grass).  The buoys are free to use, so we picked up a convenient one and settled in.  I regret to report that, even though there are extensive ruins on the shore, half a mile away, we did nothing but relax for the next two days, apart from one re-position to be further from the swell creeping round the headland.  Eat, sleep, sunbathe, repeat.  We reasoned that we need to get into practice for the Caribbean.

We had about 200 miles to go to Menorca and estimated about 36 hours so, to be on the safe side for a daylight arrival, let go our buoy at 0400 on the 6^th and motored the couple of miles to the point where, as forecast, we found a nice easterly F4 to help us on our way. Unfortunately, it only lasted for about 6 hours but we managed to get sailing winds for most of the way having to motor for only about 90 minutes the next night.  The last 40 miles were done on a slow broad reach but the timing worked and we arrived at Fornells at 1600 on the 7^th.  A daylight arrival was a good thing as, once again, the pilot book information was well out of date.  The area where we expected to anchor had been taken over by mooring buoys and we were resigned to sitting on one of these (had actually picked one up) when a helpful chappie in a RIB came over, confirmed that we were welcome to use it at E29 per day but were equally free to anchor further south.  We quickly went for the second option as we had shot through Menorca on the way east and wanted to spend some time exploring it now.

On Thursday, 8^th, we took a bus into the capitol, Mahon.  This is only 24 Km but the bus calls at every tourist resort on the way and takes 90 minutes.  While waiting for the bus, we discovered that it was a local fiesta.  Our joy at this was damped on arrival as everything was closed but we made our way into the centre to see if anything was happening.  As we approached, there was an obvious throng and emerging from it was a, very slow, procession of horses.  We stopped in a side street, expecting a fuller parade but just horses and riders both done up to the nines.  I am certainly no equine expert but they were foaming at the bit and very skittery so we deduced that there must be more.  We found another way down to the throng and pushed our way through.  In a long plaza, there was a stand with bigwigs and a band (which only knew one tunes – memories of Up Helly Aa).  Teams of 4 riders would enter, salute, and have 32 bars of the tune to prance up and down while persuading their steeds to walk on their hind legs and paw the air.  Onlookers were encouraged to mix in with this and physically support horse and rider.  I say prance up and down but, occasionally, they ended up sideways.  I unfortunately did not have the camera ready as Elsie found herself face to hoof with a ton-and-a-half of black stallion and ended up sitting in the sand.

Dancing horses, Mahon.

We then hired a car for a couple of days to see the rest of the island.  On Friday we started along the north coast driving, after a trip toCcap de Cavaleria, to Cala Algaiarens, our first anchorage in May, to see it from the shore.  There is a free car park about half a kilometre short and a good hike but, even this late in the season, the beach was packed.  We had a short bathe and continued on to see Calas Morell, Blanes Blanco and en Bosc, with a walk round the harbour at Cuitadella on the way. We thought to finish the day with another trip to a beach at Macarella.  While the roads in the centre of the island are good, those leading to the coast are small and all dead ends.  This one proved smaller than most and it took us 30 minutes to travel the 15 Km each way and then another 15 minute walk down to the beach.

The following day, we took it a little easier and spent most of the day at Santa Tomas, on the south coast.  It is definitely a leisure resort, with hotels, tat shops etc, but has good access, a variety of beaches and some nice housing behind.  Definitely gets added to our list of ‘maybe’ places.  A good shop at Mahon supermarkets on the way back and we were done.

On the 11^th, we picked up and had a pleasant sail the 14 miles down to Cala Algierens.  The anchorage was a little fuller than it had been in May but no problem in finding a space and repositioning to the prime spot once the day trippers had left.  We spent an idyllic couple of days here – swimming, sunbathing and generally being lazy, then picked up again to continue to Mallorca.  We had a good sail back to Pollensa, getting in at 1830 and staying for 3 nights. We had a much better look round the town than we had in the spring, liking it very much.  We also hired a car for a day and explored the east and south coasts.  We do like the Balearics.

Sunset at Soller.

On the 16^th, we motored the 6 miles to Cap de Formentor, then sailed along the north coast to Soller, anchoring inside the harbour.  This gave us an easy get-away at 0500 the following morning to continue on to Ibiza.  We struck 5 miles offshore on the port tack and were then able to continue on the starboard tack, at first close hauled, then beam reaching most of the way, just having to motor the last 10 miles onto Cala St Vicente, our departure point in April. We stayed here 2 nights then, on the 19^th, motored first to Cala Llonga for lunch and then on to Cala Talamanca.  Longa is beautiful formed but unfortunately has a hotel with loud air conditioning and generally a lot of people about.  Talamanca is a lot less scenic but is just across a narrow isthmus from Ibiza town, which we wished to see. We dinghies ashore on the 20^th to do this and a bit of shopping.  The old fortress was well worth the trip though we failed to spot the supermarket 100 metres away from where we parked Rubette and carried our groceries much further than necessary.

Olt town, Ibiza.

Once again, we were waiting on a weather window for our next leg and decided to go back to the beautiful anchorage at Espalmador, between Ibiza and Formentora, pausing to take an extra 50 litres of fuel in Ibiza, in case the winds disappointed on our way to Gibraltar.  Our anchorage had been covered in mooring buoys for the summer and we were required to pick one up at a cost of E29.  We did this for one night and then, as the wind had died, motored down to the port of Sabina on Formentera, anchoring just outside.  As in May, the area between was decorated with many super yachts, including Prince AbdulAziz, once the largest yacht in the world and now owned by the prince so named.  We wondered whether he got any more joy from his yacht than we did from ours and decided probably not.  A dinghy ashore in the evening to look at the port – definitely tourist central with literally thousands being shipped over each day on high-speed ferries and, judging by the numbers available, each hiring a bicycle or scooter to tour the small island.

The wind forecast led us to leave at mid-day on the 23^rd.  After an initial, excited, spell with the cruising chute, we motored for a couple of hours in variable winds until well clear of Formentera when the wind settled to its forecast easterly.  We continued under main and CC with F 2-3 changing the latter to full Genoa at 2200 as it increased to F4.  There were huge lightning storms to the north, apparently well clear of our track and we agreed that Elsie would continue with one reef in the main unless she actually heard thunder.  At about 0130 the wind suddenly died, which should have alerted me.  20 minutes later there was a northerly squall.  Fortunately she had furled the Genoa, but it was still a struggle for the 2 of us to put 3 reefs in the main. The northerly F5-6 continued through her watch then started to veer and, by 0900, I was on a broad reach with 2 reefs in the main and one in the Genoa. By mid-day it had decreased to F3 and we continued under full sail, mostly broad reaching but occasionally goose-winged.  As we approached the Spanish mainland, the forecast suggested that we would get better winds if we delayed by 24 hours, so we dropped anchor just to the west of Cabo de Gate at 0945 on the 25^th.  We set off again at 0750 on the 26^th and, once we were clear of the land, it looked very promising.  I had rigged the inner stay while waiting and headed off downwind with full Genoa on the port side and staysail to starboard in a NNE4, giving us a good 7 knots. This increased to 8, then 9 knots as the wind picked up more and we reefed the Genoa to the same size as the staysail.  The wind then started to decrease (full Genoa again) and then died forcing us to motor or motor-sail through the night. It was no better in the morning, by which time we had furled the Genoa and just left the main up for stability.  It was stowed at 1100 and we motored round Europa point and up to Gibraltar, pausing to get our fuel tank refilled duty-free, and then on to La Linea where we had engine maintenance booked, tying up at 1310.

We soon found ourselves in a little community of others doing much the same as us, waiting for weather to take us to the Canaries and beyond.  The main engine was serviced, at eye watering cost as a leaking sea water pump needed replacing.  We also bought new service batteries to replace ones that had been overcharged due to tour lack of understanding of our systems.  This involved a little voyage back to the fuel dock at Gib to get them duty free. Elsie did lots of laundry and washed Ruby down while I caught up on a few maintenance jobs.  At the end of the month, the forecast still looked good for a departure on the 2nd or 3rd so we relaxed a little with the promise of a fellow sailors birthday party on the evening of the 1st to look forward to.

Monthly stats.

Logged           897
Over ground   829

August 2016

In which we go back to our sailing roots and start the voyage back to the west

We started August at anchor off Othoni, an island to the North West of Corfu.  Elsie’s goal for the summer was the island of Kalamos, where she had once had an excellent swordfish steak and she wanted another before we started heading west again.  We had agreed that mid-August would be our turn time so we had a couple of weeks.  The forecast for the foreseeable future was hot, with little chance for good sailing so we decided to take it slow.  We timed our departure for the 9 mile hop to the next island, Erikousa, to catch the afternoon breeze and left at 1500, with a following F3 but, an hour later, it died and we had to motor anyway.  

Corfu

There was a forecast for strong overnight winds on the 2^nd and 3^rd and I was a little concerned at the lack of healing on my finger, damaged last month, so we booked into Gouvia marina for 2 nights.  We woke to a NNW4 on the 2^nd and were underway by 0830, with reefed sails.  After an hour, the reefs came out and, by 1000 we were motoring for 30 minutes until the westerly wind picked up enough for us to get the chute out.  This took us to the north east tip of Corfu, where the wind died again and we motored down the coast to Ypsos bay, intending to have a swim.  As we entered the bay, the wind sprang to life.  We dropped anchor anyway but the wind increased and, after an hour or so, we picked up and proceeded to Gouvia where we found ourselves at the back of a long queue waiting to berth.  By now the wind had increased such that maneuvering in a tight marina would be a challenge, but we managed to negotiate a stern to wind berth on the outside wall, tying up at 1630.

Ormos Ay Yeoryios, Corfu.

On the 3^rd, we hired a car for a look at Corfu.  On advice, we stuck to the north end of the island, heading off to Paleokastritsa and then taking minor roads round to Sidari, stopping to look at possible anchorages along the way. Round the north coast and stopped for a nice moussaka lunch at Barbati.  The air-con on the car wasn’t great and, by now, we had had enough heat so headed for Lidl for a big shop and back to Ruby.  In the evening, we went out again for a quick tour round Corfu town, not finding anywhere to stop but we did confirm that the anchorage to the east of the town looked good.

Corfu town

On the 4^th, I managed to get a replacement element for our immersion heater, which was tripping out the mains, then we topped up the fresh water and headed round to Garista anchorage and dinghied ashore for a late afternoon wander round the town.  There seem to usually be 2 – 3 huge cruise liners in for day trips, adding maybe 10-12,000 tourists.  There were none this day but the centre of the town with endless tat shops and cafes was still packed.  Just a few streets away, off the tourist trail, was much more pleasant – still traditional Greek.  On the 5^th we motored across to the mainland, anchoring in a very sheltered bay at Pagania half a mile from the Albanian border.  We almost had this to ourselves but for a lone fisherman who circled endlessly with a trolling line without ever catching anything.  We heard a goat bell but, on looking for the goat, found a horse.  One other yacht joined us for the night.  Saturday, 6^th, we picked up anchor at mid-day and motored back to Corfu and down the coast in light airs.  We had been led to believe that it was tourist central but, from the sea at least, it looked inviting and we regretted not keeping the car for a second day and doing a bit of exploring down here.  As we passed O. Psara, the afternoon SW’ly wind picked up and we had a pleasant sail down to Lakka at the northern end of Paxos.  This was a similar sized bay to where we had spent the previous night but had 25 yachts at anchor and another 20 moored to anchor and lines ashore round the edge.  Now being fairly practiced, we found a spot without too much trouble, although a following French yacht tried to cut across our bows just as we were about to let go and looked daggers at us then wandered round for 20 minutes before laying his own anchor.  As 5 other latecomers also found spots, I wasn’t too sympathetic.  Most people behave in a civilised way in anchorages but I was incensed at the RIB from a large motor yacht that repeatedly shuttled through this one at full speed creating huge wash and endangering swimmers having an evening dip off the backs of their boats.  Me hurling abuse at the driver, in front of his clients, at least made him vary his route away from us.

Floating bridge, Levkas 

Levkas canal

We wanted to be in Nidri, Levkas, on Monday morning, for some maintenance work, so on Sunday we set off for the Levkas canal.  There has been engineering work taking place at the northern end and charts, pilot book and reports all gave different advice.  The floating bridge had been away but was now back and, in theory at least, was operating its normal schedule of opening every top of the hour.  We set off at 10:15 and alternately sailed and motored with the aim of making the 1700 bridge.  With 3 miles to go, it looked as though we might miss it as we were arriving at the entrance just after the hour and didn’t want to rush through uncharted waters.  We needn’t have worried as we joined a waiting throng milling round and, after a 30 minute wait, dropped our anchor.  10 minutes later the bridge opened and the flotilla headed through, mostly in good order apart from one Italian, proclaiming to be a school boat who elbowed his way through the pack.  There was then a 3 mile motor down the canal and a further 6 miles, alternately sailing and motoring down to Tranquil Bay at Nidri.  Here, with light airs, we had some difficulty finding a good spot as everyone was lying in different directions.  A few knots of evening breeze sorted that and showed us a space for the night.  We had been told of a hotel pontoon, used by a charter fleet for weekend changeovers but with cheap space mid-week.  We gave them a call at 0900 on Monday and, sure enough, they had space so we wandered over and tied up.  We soon had a sailmaker on board to take away our main which was wearing through at the batten pockets and the bimini caver with a broken zip.  We thought he was joking when he asked if we expected them back the same day but by 1700 back they were, jobs done.  We were not so fortunate with a bracket for our new satellite aerial but we managed to get water heater repaired, windlass stripper straightened and top ups of diesel and very good water.  All this with a complimentary swimming pool with (not complimentary) iced coffees.  While here, we celebrated a year since setting off from Monkstown, Ireland.  Nearly 8,000 miles sailed; no major damage; lots of lessons learned and still talking to each other.

We spent 3 nights at Nidri before setting off for where we had done our first cruising, nearly 5 years before, on a 27 ft boat.  No particular place to go so, once through the Meganisi channel, we let the wind decide and ended up in O. Filatrou on Ithika.  Mooring required laying the anchor then taking lines ashore.  Elsie is confident driving neither Ruby nor Rubette, so it needed a bit of planning which came to nought when a lady, swimming from a tripper boat decided to stop exactly where I needed to go with the dinghy and berate me for using it in swimming waters.  The fact that her boat had been moored the same way didn’t seem to figure.  We eventually got moored, with a little help from someone from a motor boat and spent a reasonably comfortable night. This was aided by following the example of the larger vessel to our East who, when the nightly westerly sprang up, shifted his moorings from stern to bow and lay head to wind.  We did likewise.  

We did have a target on Friday and set off for Port Leone at the nearer end of Kalamos. This is a bay that we have visited each time we have cruised the area and is one of our favourite places.  There was a brisk NW’ly blowing and we had a cracking close hauled sail with 2, then 3 reefs in main and genoa.  The wind backed a little as we progressed and we ended up on a broad reach with reefed main and full genoa.  We expected to find the bay full, but there were only 2 other yachts there on our arrival.  We have always anchored at the south end before but, with the prevailing wind, the western side looked better.  As ever in these parts the chart was inaccurate and there was only a narrow rim to anchor on so we laid our main to hold against the wind and kedge further out to keep us offshore in case the wind changed.   A couple of hours later, an Italian came inside us and started to lay his anchor over ours.  I pointed this out to him but he continued, then swam out and assured me that he could see both anchors and they were clear.  To cut a long story short, they were not and, at a time when we should have been enjoying sun-downers, it was up to us to sort out the mess, re-lay 2 anchors away from him and then watch him take the prime spot we had chosen 6 hours before. 

We were troubled by wasps that evening but managed to clear the inside of the boat before bed.  The next morning, they were back in battalion strength and, rather than the planned lazy morning with maybe a donder ashore by dinghy, we made a rapid exit. Winds were light and directly ahead, so we didn’t even bother to prepare the sails but made for our destination of Kalamos port.  This is run by an enterprising local, George, who acts as unofficial harbourmaster, personally tying up visiting yachts and pointing to his restaurant.  This has doubled in size since our first visit, so he must be doing well.  Back then, we had had magnificent swordfish steaks and last time, 3 years ago, we had come especially for Elsie to have another, only to be told that they had sold out and it had been a half joke that the only reason we were in the Med this summer was for Elsie to get her swordfish steak from Georges’.  That evening we popped a bottle of fiz to celebrate our goal and my forthcoming birthday and went ashore.  There were a worrying few moments while the waiter checked the fridge but all was well.  Elsie had her swordfish. 

Out in the morning and a beat into a heading F4 back down to Ithaka, mooring a little further in O   Filatrou than before.  I reconnoitred mooring points with the dinghy in advance and had ropes ashore so that, after we had dropped anchor and backed in, I could bring them back aboard while Elsie held Ruby steady.  There were light winds and we had a big space but she still found it stressful and we, once again, resolved to get her to do more of the manoeuvring under power.  She did go out in Rubette that afternoon, and again the following day, to practice using the outboard which again I always use.  The gaps on either side of us were filled with catamarans and, inevitably, it was an Italian on our port side who decided that he needed to keep his engine running to provide his guests with hot water and power.  This is a no-no with sailing sailors and irritation levels rose.  After 3 hours, with a bit of shouting and us running our generator with the exhaust pointed at him, he eventually consented to turn it off.  He pushed off the next morning and we decided, as there was no obvious weather window to start our journey back west, to have a day off, just reading, swimming and having little potters in the dinghy.

Moored stern-to, Ithaka

By the 16^th, it was looking like the best time to depart back to Sicily would be the weekend, so we had a few days to spare and, the wind seeming co-operative, we decided to cross to Astakos on the mainland.  This is described in the pilot book as a rural town with little concession to tourism.  With the normal morning light airs, there was no need for an early start so lifted anchor at 1225.  We had to motor away from the island and were then close hauled in a N’ly F3 past the island of Atokos.  Once past this obstruction in the middle, we had a fine broad reach in a W’ly F4.  This increased to F5 as we approached our destination and we were a little concerned that the crosswind would prevent us from berthing.  This fear was allayed as we got a little lee in the harbour and a helpful local aided us in and then pointed to his restaurant.  The writer of the pilot book has evidently not visited for a while as the harbour front was very touristy with tavernas and tat shops.  The harbour water was pretty putrid too.  We had a stroll ashore and found places to provision the following day then decided to do the decent thing and eat at our mooring assistant’s establishment.  We were pleased to find that prices were about half of those at Georges but that was the best that could be said.  Main dishes were plain meat and chips and the service was appalling.  As there was no berthing fee, we consoled ourselves, by regarding the meal as a freebie in a E30 marina.  Oh, and free beer too.  After provisioning and watering in the morning, we headed out to find a good sailing wind. Unfortunately it was coming from where we wanted to go so we had a spirited beat with 1 then 2 reefs in F3 increasing F5 across below Atokos then north to the Meganissi channel where it died leaving us to motor the last few miles back to Tranquil bay where we found a good spot to anchor.

Tranquil bay, Nidri

 On the morning of the 18^th, we motored up to and through the Levkas canal then alternately motored and sailed up to Paxos, anchoring outside the main harbour at Gaios.  As so often, we were neck and neck with another boat on arrival.  As he was on our starboard bow, I did the seamanlike thing and gave way and he validated my choice of spot by laying his anchor there. As we backed off a (inevitably Italian) motor yacht roared past feet away at 15 knots to screams of abuse from yachts who had swimmers in the water.  This put me off my stroke a bit and first shot at anchoring put us too close for comfort to someone but second attempt was better.  We dinghied into the packed harbour with Elsie driving though she did let me park as we had to squeeze between two yachts.  Having a beer let us have internet for our essential last check on the weather for the following day’s departure, confirming that late afternoon should get us the best winds for the passage.  A lazy day on the 19^th, with just a little more dinghy practice for Elsie, including a first solo under power.  It seems ridiculous that we have been living on board without this happening before but we have just got into a routine of who does what.  We are making determined efforts to change this so we can be more flexible should events require it.

We picked up anchor at 1800, motored the mile or so to the bottom of Paxos and set sail for Sicily.  The wind forecast suggested that we should be able to put it just ahead of the starboard beam and make a nice curve across but it wasn’t quite that kind and we were just short of close hauled reefing as required as the strength varied from F3 – F5.  We made good time though, averaging 6.5 knots.  The wind died on the afternoon of the 20^th and, apart from a few hours sailing the following morning it was motoring all the way.  We had intended to anchor where we had on the way out, under the toe of Italy, but the timing looked good to go through the Messina strait so we continued.  The forecast light headwinds here turned out to be 18-20 knots, but this came as no great surprise and we passed through without problem and a neutral current until we reached the fabled Charybdis where we were headed by 4 knots for a while.  We continued motoring, with a little wind assist from a light northerly across to Vulcano.  We were going to arrive after dark but before moonrise and our hope was that, it being late August, the French would have headed home and there would be plenty of space in the anchorage.  They may have gone but there were more than enough Italians to compensate.  We circled for a while and made one attempt to anchor but couldn’t find space without being in ridiculous depths.  We could see many mooring lights in the bay across the isthmus and anywhere else locally was likely to be exposed to the westerly swell so we bit the bullet and went to the marina.  Shocked to discover that the band 4 charge advised by the pilot book translated to E100 per night but sleep was important so we grimaced and paid. 

Approaching Vulcano at sunset.

More internet gave us a forecast for onward departure to Sardinia on Tuesday 23^rd so a top-up of water and provisions then a motor up to Lipani for fuel and an anchorage halfway up the island.  At the fuel dock a 50 ft motor launch, ahead of us in the queue, got within rope throwing distance then thrashed his engines back and forth while the shore staff pulled him in;  we were waved in ahead of him and glided serenely to our berth, Elsie lassoing a convenient bollard to a calls of ‘Bravo, Signora!’  He later demonstrated his true superiority but passing us at 25 knots and leaving us rocking in his wake.

Calculating the time to depart for the next leg was problematical.  Weather forecasts suggested a slow second half of the passage and I wanted to avoid another dark arrival in an unknown anchorage. The moon was in the last quarter, so pre-dawn was better than post-dusk.  We decided on 10:00 but the weather, as so often decided otherwise.  The overnight wind was from the south west but this veered to the north and our anchorage, at the south of a bay, was uncomfortable so we picked up at 0930.  Elsie has written about the passage.

Having made better than expected progress from Greece to Sardinia, we felt that we could relax a bit which was fortunate as there seemed no good weather window in the near future to take us onwards.  We spent two nights at anchor off Villasimius before moving on in a series of short hops. The first, on the 27^th was under Genoa only to Marina Picola del Poetto.  The wind was forecast SE’ly but was almost due east and the anchorage was a little lumpy until it died down at sunset.  The following day we wished to go south.  Again the forecast was SE’ly but this time it quickly veered to head us all the way, F4, so it was a beat down the coast with one reef.  We passed Kokomo, possibly the largest sloop in the world at 195 ft, but he was motoring so we didn’t get the full sight. It took us nearly 8 hours for an achieved distance of less than 30 miles but was enjoyable in slight seas and brilliant sun.  Anchored for the night in the bay at Malfatano and decided, with still no weather window in sight, to stay for a second.  On the 30^th we alternately sailed and motored round to Porto Ponto Romano, a largely derelict commercial port on the causeway between Sardinia and Isola di Sant’ Antioco.  Here we were able to go alongside a quay, free of charge for up to 2 nights, though there was no power water or rubbish bins.  We did manage to do a good shop and laundry.  In the morning we went round to the fuel berth where the helpful attendant not only gave us good water but also took our rubbish – thanks. We concluded the month with another beat down I di S. A. to anchor off a beach for a quiet night.

Monthly stats:

Logged                 984

Over Ground     928     

The Journey - by Elsie

The Journey

23^rd August – 25^th August 2016   Canneto (Aeolian Islands) to Carbonara (Sardinia)

265 nm in 41 hours 55 minutes

23^rd August 0930

After a very restless night because of swell we lifted the anchor at 0930 and set off on the next leg of our journey out of the Med. We had looked at three weather sites on the internet – Predict Wind, zyGrib and Passage weather. Predict wind is the new one and I am trying to get used to it and all its foibles. It will be the model that is used when the satellite phone is the only way to contact the world and when every second downloading, talking and texting costs a fortune so the more adept I am at using it and reading the systems the better. I don’t particularly like it and in my short experience it has not been very accurate in the Med, but I must persist. Passage Weather is my favourite and always seems to be almost right. The other one, zyGrib is the new grib file system Lionel has started using, pretty colours and the information seems ok.  The summary was 20 knots at the most, on the beam dying during the first night and probably a lot of motoring the next day. Not good but not bad either. We had disagreed on what time we should depart so we compromised, he said 0900, I said 1200 so we decided last night that 1000 was a good compromise???? I don’t understand the logic either but hey, it works for us. So, we left at 0930, into a strong head wind and a biggish swell. The main sail was eventually hoisted at 1100 to help drive through the waves but at some instances we were still doing under 3 knots as we battled against wind and waves. We watched as a liner came into view. AIS told us it was The World, the liner where millionaires buy a cabin and each gets a turn to decide where they want to go. Lionel couldn’t decide where he would go but it was easy for me, up the West coast of Canada to Alaska and into the Arctic Circle which I don’t really understand because I crave sun and heat.

At 1300 as we cleared Isola Salina we sailed. Two reefs in the main and at least half of the jib rolled away we were going into a force 4 head wind with maybe 2 metres of short choppy swell. It was my watch but Lionel kindly stayed up on deck with me for a while until I got confident with the conditions. The wind wasn’t really a problem, the swell was. I should have been used to this nasty stuff because of all the sailing I’ve done in Scotland and Ireland but that was a long long time ago. In the Atlantic the swell is huge but it’s smooth and constant. This was “bang, bang, bang” then a few minutes when you held your breath hoping, praying that it had stopped then “BANG” and you were soaked. There were still two islands to pass before we were in open sea. The wind came and went depending on whether we were near land or in the gap between land. I persuaded myself that the wind was abating and watching a passing ketch I decided that if they could do it so could I so we took out the third reef at 1500 but half an hour later it went back in as the wind returned with a vengeance.  By 1700 the wind had increased to force 5 with gusts up to 25 knots and the swell had got worse. There was still three reefs in the main sail and the jib was just a wee pocket hankie. I had been knocked off my feet by a wave which had swept on board and soaked the both of us and stupidly I hadn’t closed the companion way hatch so there was water down below. Thank goodness it had not gone into the bilges where I keep all the bottles and cans of food – the cellar as we call it. By the end of my watch, 1800, we had managed to achieve about 34 nm. Lionel cooked dinner of chicken and pasta and afterwards I fell into bed exhausted, promising to do the dishes when I got up at midnight. Sleep was fitful and even with earplugs in the noise kept me awake. Ruby rocked this way and that then pitched and came down with a hard noisy slam. Not good sleeping conditions.

24^th August

Lionel woke me up around 2330. It takes some time for me to come to and I can be a grumpy cow when woken up. Conditions had not got any better and we were still going into a force 5 head wind with stronger gusts every now and then. Despite this, he had managed to maintain a very healthy average of around 7 knots so we were almost 90nm away from our starting point. The conditions had been bad enough in the daylight but at night, even with an almost full moon, I found them terrifying. With strict instructions to wear a life jacket at all times (he should know by now that I don’t need to be told) and to clip on to the new life line before I took the old one of when I was moving around the cockpit, he handed me the torch, our badge of office, and left me in complete charge. I will be honest, I sat terrified for half an hour then realised he wasn’t joking about leaving me to get on with it and so I got on with it. There isn’t much to be done when the wind is blowing from a constant direction at anything from 15 to 25 knots. You sit and watch the wind hawk. You watch for lights out at sea. And you duck the waves which were still coming over the side. The one and only ship I saw was a block of flats (a liner to you land lubbers). I must confess it was a very nice liner driven by a lovely captain who slowed down and altered course to avoid me by 3 miles. This course of action is unheard of. Personally I think large ships, especially ferries, are programmed to come as close as humanly possible to small ships, especially 12 metre boats. Therefore I felt like radioing the liner, Splendour, and thanking the mannie who was driving for being so considerate but I didn’t. This is not the course of action a well salted sailor would take but if you ever read this thank you anyway.

I was managing to average around 6 knots, which wasn’t too bad. The wind slowly reduced and at 0500 I shook out the third reef and put out a little more jib. We had passed Ustica about midnight and during my watch the lights slowly receded into the night. The next lights that we would see would be on Sardinia. There isn’t much that can be done on the night watch. It’s six hours of watching, listening and thinking. I usually find myself trying to put my life in order, trying to understand my past, making sense of the present and guessing the future. “Good game, good game” a very wise woman told me 18 years ago to walk away from the past, it’s past and there is nothing you can do about it but sometimes reflection is good for the soul so I play the game that everyone does every now and again, “what if”.

I woke Lionel at 0545. 123nm had been travelled and the wind was now down to force 3. Hurrah!!! I l had left the reefs in for him to decide what to do because even though the wind was down there was still huge gusts which rounded up the boat and we were almost broaching. He decided to leave it for an hour and see if it improved. I went down, had breakfast, brushed my teeth and went to bed, hopefully for a better sleep than last time. By 0920 the wind had gone and Lionel started motoring. Well, the forecast had predicted this. Motoring is good sometimes. Although we have three huge service batteries, a 64w solar panel and a much improved (it had a little trip back to the factory for new bearings) wind generator we still have to recharge using the engine or generator if the amp hours deficit is more than 100. If George, the auto pilot, is being used we use around 6amps every hour therefore in the 10 hours of darkness, when the relative wind is non-existent we can run down the batteries fairly quickly. The noise of the engine woke me up but I didn’t realise it was being run because there was no wind so I quickly went back to sleep. Lionel is very lucky, he can read, write and do most things when we are on the move, unlike me who feels sick after a few pages. He was busy writing a piece for the blog when he realised that there was wind blowing through his hair – or what hair he has left. So, at 1045 he started sailing again with all the white canvas billowing in the 12 knots of wind. Wonderful.

When I got up at 1100 we had travelled 150nm, the wind was 12 knots on the beam and the average speed was around 7 knots. Bliss. The next worry was calculating when we were going to arrive. The anchorage we were heading for was a huge area but going by past experiences we knew the Italian’s could fill a huge anchorage fast. The experience at Volcano still stuck in my throat – the anchorage had been full and we had to go into the marina paying 100 euros for the privilege – and I knew that 100 euros was small change for a marina berth in Sardinia in August. Therefore when we were going to arrive was pretty important. Although there was a moon, it did not rise before 0100 and the dawn started to break around 0530. Between these times would be good if we had to arrive at night. Then there was sleep patterns. I wanted Lionel well rested before he faced anchoring. Anchoring was no problem he had a system and it worked but he still stressed, as most skippers do, over depth and holding and space. By midday we had done 155nm with 90 miles to go. We averaging around 6 knots which meant we would arrive around 0400 the next morning. Ok, that would work.

My watch began at midday and I had a pretty uneventful l six hours. The wind was just on or just behind the beam force 3 to 4. Approximately 42nm in 6 hours. Those good at sums will know but I can’t help boasting, an average of 7 knots. I sunbathed, watched very small dolphin – could have been porpoises -, and dodged a few cargo ships. Six hours of sitting in the sun watching the world or water go by. This started me thinking about the Atlantic crossing from Cape Verde to Barbados. I could have three weeks of this depending on the strengths of the winds. Is this when sailors get bored and fall out of love with sailing? What on earth do you do for all that time? I have heard stories of sailing for 12 days in a row without touching the sails or course. It wouldn’t even be George we would be depending on it would be Hattie, the wind steering gear who is a very independent girl and goes with the wind. Basically the course is set to the wind and when the wind changes Hattie corrects herself. The great thing is she doesn’t need power so we cut the consumption by two thirds and we don’t need to run the generator everyday maybe every third day. However, that makes me almost redundant. Almost, I would still need to make witty comments, wash the dishes and generally tidy up. I love him to bits but the skipper is a messy so and so. It’s almost the only time we ever have words. Now panic has set in. What will I do all day? There is just so much cleaning a girl can do and how do you make sarcastic comments to a sleeping man? I know I could write my memoirs. Only problem is every other person you meet is doing that and the market can only take so many nautical travel books even though mine would be funny, well written and full of interesting facts. I spent the rest of the afternoon contemplating how I can waste three weeks of my life. The conclusion? It won’t be wasted, I will have fulfilled a dream and I would never fall out of love with sailing, it’s my passion.

Lionel didn’t sleep very much during his six hours off. I started to worry about his state of mind tomorrow morning when we are trying to anchor in the dark. We had Mediterranean chicken for dinner, thank goodness we both like garlic as the boat stank of the stuff for the next couple of hours. Another good thing about our partnership is the division of labour. He cooks, I clean. It depends on your preference whether you think it’s a good or bad way of doing things. During dinner I come up with a cunning plan. I sleep anywhere. I find a pillow, shut my eyes and fall asleep. Easy. Lionel does not, that is why I always do the night watch. He finds it easier to sleep in the hours of darkness. I have worked it out if he calls me at 2300 instead of midnight he should get a good five hours sleep before he has to park Ruby. He agrees. I go to bed happier knowing we only have 70 nm to go and we will be in Sardinia again.

25^th August

An uneventful five hours. I slept, he sailed with full sails and a 10 knot wind more or less on the beam. At 2300 Lionel looked exhausted. He marked a waypoint on the chart where he wanted woken up. There were two shallow areas as we approached the south coast and he knew I was nervous sailing at night near land. What a treasure? I had about 30 nm to go so I worked out if 6 knots were achieved he could have 5 hours sleep. Grrrrrr. It was just my luck, 12 knot wind directly on the beam and Ruby sped along like a dream achieving 8 knots without any effort.  The sea was as smooth as a baby’s bottom. I had to slow down somehow. I reefed the Jib. It broke my heart but we slowed to 6.5 knots. It was one of the most fantastic night sails I have had. Looking up I thought I probably could see every planet and star ever created. I could even see the twist of the Milky Way. There was Mars but I still couldn’t find Snickers!!!! When the moon rose it was a huge red crescent. A beautiful clear warm night. I watched the approach of the Sardinian coast, trying to work out which lighthouse was which altering the course every now and again to get to Lionel’s mark on the chart. The last time I approached land at night was many months ago in The Canaries. I picked out two white lights directly in front of me. Thinking it was a ship I watched them carefully. The space between the two vertical lights got bigger and bigger. What on earth was coming towards me? This was the biggest ship I had ever seem. You guessed correctly. It was two lights on the island we were approaching. I have never been allowed to forget my mistake and it gets told every now and again to anyone who will listen, all in good fun of course. It’s my own fault for admitting what had happened. There were no witnesses.

My plan didn’t work. I had to wake him up at 0315 instead of 0500. He didn’t mind. The amp hours were almost at 100 so we ran the engine as we would be at anchor for a couple of days. We managed to sail almost into the anchorage, dropping the sails and motoring into an easy space, dropping 30 metres of chain at 0425 and then tidying up. The anchorage was busy with a few sizeable yachts but it was a huge area and the wind was light so you could anchor more or less anywhere. It was mostly clear water over sand and the holding was excellent. A beer was poured and everything was good in the world. Two tired but very happy salty people went to bed. 556nm in less than a week with a 36 hour rest in the middle. Life is good.

Hello Russia

Hello Russia.

One of the features of this blog site is that I can see where the readers are and I have noticed that, over the last month or so, many people in Russia are reading it (or a few people many times).

I am just curious to know why.  Has it been set as a school project and you are preparing critiques? Is there a burning desire to sell the house and sail off into the blue and you are looking for the pitfalls to avoid? Or is it just a quirk of technology that is giving you this site when you are really looking for the latest music download for a band called LionelandElsie?

I would love to know, so please add a comment to this post.

Lionel

July 2016

In which we continue round Sicily, pop down to Malta and back and head off towards Greece

On the evening of the 30^th June, we saved ourselves 5 minutes effort by not laying a second anchor.  This worked well until the small hours when a swell built up from the south and we started rolling enough to disturb our sleep.  There was forecast to be an onshore wind the following night, so we elected to head for a marina at Licata.  This is in a huge harbour basin, with only about 1/3 of the proposed pontoons in place.  Our sensitivity to price is obviously decreasing as I hardly flinched at the cost of E50 (and that was after a 15% discount).  All very pleasant and clean and with an excellent shopping mall but a little soulless.  They are also offering discounts for winter stays but I think that it will be a few years before we are willing to spend 6 months in one spot.

We were looking ahead to our crossing to Malta, from where I had a flight booked back to Scotland, and the following Friday looked promising so we elected to continue slowly down the Sicilian coast.  Our next stop was going to be in the lee of the harbour at Scoglitti but we discovered, in time, that a huge area is prohibited around a pipeline so continued few miles further south and anchored about 500 metres off a tourist beach.  The wind was forecast to be light and along the coast and we anchored in the lee of a shallow patch, this time being careful to lay 2 anchors to keep our head pointing just a little offshore.  This worked well and, as there was no urgency, we took the next day off and enjoyed doing not very much, only slightly irritated by the music from the shore, the jet skis and power boats touting for custom.  The stern anchor had dragged a little, so we re-laid our mooring to ensure a quiet night.  This time, however, a swell caused by some distance disturbance grew from the west, hitting us on the beam.  We slacked back the stern anchor, hoping that we would swing but this failed and we had a very disturbed night. 

On rising, we found that the forecast for the following week now showed no prospect of sailing across to Malta so we decided to motor across and spend a few days over there.  This we did, taking the opportunity to each get a little rest.  With 15 miles to run, a beam wind sprang up and Elsie was able to get a decent sail for a few hours.  Malta is one of the few places in the EU where one has to clear in with customs so, rather than head to anchor, we went into Mgarr marina, Gozo, where Ruby was booked in for our trip back to the UK.  Our trip, as Elsie, with a newly arrived grandson, had decided to also pay a visit.  On the 5^th, we set out for our tour of Malta, behaving rather like a dog passing lamp-posts, popping to every potential anchorage, of which there are many, on our way down to Valleta.  The wind was building from the south-west and after a tour of Grand Harbour, we looked forward to a downwind sail back to our chosen spot.  As we exited GH, the wind did a 180 so we followed suit and headed down to Peter’s bay, a scenic spot surrounded by sandstone cliffs.  There were about 10 other boats anchored as we arrived but, one-by-one, they left and we had a very quiet night.

Valetta

Vince, Deborah and friend

We had arranged a rendezvous with an old work colleague, Vince, who has settled here so were out the next morning to meet him and his Dufour. The idea was to do a little sailing together but, as we met, the wind died so, after a few photos, we went back to Peter’s bay and had a lazy afternoon and quiet night.  On the 7^th, we continued our circumnavigation of Malta, motor sailing and once again popping into potential anchorages and finishing up in Mellieha bay, where we had seen Paul Allen’s mega yacht Octopus earlier in the week.  On the 8^th, we motored back to Gozo, pausing for a swim on the way and started preparing for our trip back to Scotland.

Our flight on the 9^th wasn’t until the evening so, while Elsie did some shopping, I decided to change the engine oil.  On opening up the engine compartment, I discovered that the bilge had sea water in it.  Time for investigation, which required the engine running.  I was very mindful of the two generator belts but must have had a lapse of concentration as there was a sudden tug on my left hand and a loud bang.  I looked down to see the auxiliary belt broken and my left ring finger tip hanging on by a thread.  Bugger.  Shouted for help but none forthcoming so had to put a temporary dressing on, restore the companionway steps, stop the engine, call for an ambulance and message Elsie.  It seemed most unlikely that we would make our flight and I cursed my stupidity.  However, the medical services were very efficient.  By the time I had done an initial mop-up (Elsie hates blood) and walked to the end of the pontoon the ambulance was arriving.  I was seen immediately at A&E and within about 90 minutes of the accident I was sewn together, topped up with anti-tetanus, X-rayed and discharged.  I could have done without the additional complication of a wind generator to hand carry but it had continued to make unpleasant noises and I had dismounted it a couple of days before.  If I didn’t take it now, it would be another 3 months before the next opportunity.  So, with a 10 Kg back pack we set of by ferry and bus to the airport.  Security were a bit bemused but let me take it on board and we were on our way.    

After a successful trip home (my medical checks, chandlery shopping and catching up on admin stuff: Elsie bonding with 4 grandsons in a rented cottage), we returned to Ruby a week later.  A couple of ex-pats from the local sailing club came round on Monday to assist on the investigation and repair of the leak and we were ready to move on.  Tuesday looked like a promising day to make the crossing back to Sicily.  It didn’t go as well as hoped.  We first had a one hour delay while the local immigration officials looked at our passports and graciously permitted us to leave (within the Schengen area!).  We should have then abandoned plans to complete the circumnavigation of Gozo but didn’t, which added a further hour.  And then the promised wind failed to appear so we had to motor most of the way across, anchoring outside Pozzallo at 2035.  We decided to stay for a day, as there was no wind forecast and set off next morning in the dinghy for a trip ashore.  After 200 metres, the engine coughed and died.  The carburetor bowl had fallen off!  My hand was still poorly so Elsie had to row us back.  As she did so, the local coastguard boat arrived and instructed us to move a further 500 metres from the Port entrance.  We were already well clear and, in the time we were there, there were only 3 movements of commercial vessels so believe this was just a ‘jobsworth’.  He was in charge so we complied, only to see a French yacht occupy our good spot and remain unmolested.  We had another trip ashore later, with more success, but were fairly unimpressed with the grubby town and, especially, the grudging permission for us to park our dinghy for no more than an hour.

On the 21^st we picked up and sailed / motored 20 miles round the corner to Cape Passero.  Here, there was a choice of anchorage, either side of a sandbar running to a small island.  We elected to use the northerly one and had another quiet night.  It was time to head on to bright lights.  We wanted to see Siracusa but there were horror stories about huge fines to yachts who anchored in the wrong place so we researched carefully.  Called on channel 16 – no reply, but telephoning got us permission to enter and an approved anchorage spot which was a long way from where we wanted to land with the dinghy.  There was only one other yacht in the approved area and about 10 in the convenient but illegal one. On the evening of the 22^nd, we dinghied ashore to canal separating the old and new towns and, after a long trek, found a supermarket for provisions.  We had heard a report of a dinghy being vandalised here, but Rubette was safe on our return.  The following morning, we went to the ‘Town Quay’ of the old town for a good wander round and a Gelato.

Siracusa sunset

On the 24^th we, mostly, sailed up to Catania where I had booked us in for a couple of nights, not without some difficulty.  No English was spoken, so I had to get a spiel prepared from Google Translate.  The staff turned out to be very helpful and assisted us with changing gas bottle and disposing of old oil which I eventually changed on the engine.  I had carefully separated the filter and oily rags from the general waste but these were just dumped in the skip.  Tourist information was harder to come by.  There was an office in the port building but it seems that it is only open when cruise ships were in.  We wanted to go up Etna and it took a lot of traipsing around before we found which bus to take and where to buy a ticket etc.  We got sorted and on the Monday took the bus to the foot of the cable car.  Bus ticket very reasonable at E6.60.  Cable car, 4X4 bus and guide at the top less so at E63.00  but it was a one-off so up we went, only to find that it was too windy to be allowed to the crater rim and too cloudy to see much.  Oh well.

 

We stayed an extra day for a little maintenance, shopping and a look round the town.  There are some wonderful old buildings, mostly constructed of lava but, with a few exceptions in the touristy areas it is all very scruffy and grubby.

Out on the 27^th and alternately sailed and motored up the coast to Taormina where there is a nice hook in the coast to protect the anchorage from northerly swell. Despite the light winds, this was considerable and we were concerned that it might work its way in but we were very comfortable and had a fine view of superyacht Vava 2 which, on arrival, opened up its stern to reveal a ‘beach bar’ with tasteful décor, mood lighting and elegantly dressed  guests.  But their cocktails probably tasted no better than our white port and tonic.  Another day of motorsailing took us back to mainland Italy and an anchorage picked almost at random at Palizzi on the bottom of the toe.  Although the day finished with a light south-westerly wind, we had another very comfortable night.

Vava 2

The plan had been to do another coastal hop or 2 before crossing to Greece, but looking at weather forecasts on Friday morning, it seemed that we were unlikely to get sailing winds in the ‘instep’ of Italy for the foreseeable future and for further on, there was no time like the present.   We set off with multiple plans, including just a day-sail (or motor), stopping off at Sa Maria, on the ‘heel’ or crossing to Corfu.  The first few hours went well, if a little slowly, under just cruising chute, then CC and main.  We then had to motor for 6 hours before the wind changed to north of west and gave us a broad reach.  There were many changes in wind, and sailplan, through the night.  A little motoring, some good reaching and reefs going in and out with wind changes.  At 0900 with a NNW’ly 4 on the beam and forecast for it to continue, I made the unilateral decision to head for Othoni, an island just NW of Corfu.  We just had to average 6 knots to make it before dark.  All went well for the first couple of hours and we averaged 7 knots.  At mid-day the wind dropped to F3 and the current changed to head us.  6 knots through the water but 5 across the ground.  We held our nerve, with just a couple of 20 minute motors when the wind dropped further and ended up with 2 reefs in main and genoa, achieving 7 knots with a NW’ly 5 gusting 6.  We were still 4 miles short at sunset but there was enough afterglow for us to weave into the anchorage and settle for a welcome meal, drink and good night’s rest.

We reckoned that we had earned a break and spent the 31^st at anchor just amusing ourselves watching charter boats on their first day of freedom manouvering round the anchorage and marveling how white skin could be in the middle of summer.

Monthly stats:

Logged                 616

Over ground         583