Big Seas, Malady of Macsen and Morocco!

Our plan was to leave Vila Real de San Antonio in the early morning to head for Rabat, the capital of Morocco. The wind was high so we postponed for an evening departure. This meant two nights and one day at sea rather than two days and one nights. This is slightly preferable as Emma and Macsen are then, of course, asleep. The Vianto de Lavante had been blowing for a few days and we had postponed our departure to avoid it. The Lavante is a very strong easterly wind that squeezes itself out through the straits of Gibraltar and causes high winds and high seas even where we were over 60 nautical miles away. About six hours into our passage we began to feel the effects of the Lavante, steady 25 knot winds (with frequent gusts significantly above that) and big waves, making for a very unpleasant and bumpy night. Poor Macsen woke early and threw up all over his bed. He sleeps in the bow and thus feels more of the boat bucking about the we do. It must have felt a little like being in a washing machine. Emma was also a little bit sick but she was able to let on ahead of time and I had a pan ready to catch it before we had any more dirty laundry. Both kids rebounded immediately and soon had their sea legs and their appetites back. The wind and waves calmed almost immediately as we passed the southern bank of the Strait.


Just after dinner on our second night at sea, Seb’s fishing reel gave a loud zzzzzing as meters of line were tugged sharply out. We all ran outside to watch as he slowed the boat down and started reeling it in. “What should we do? Should we slow down more? Speed up? Should we reel it in quickly or let it tire itself out? How big do you think it is? Papa, I like fish! Papa, do you think the fish wants us to catch it? etc.etc.” were some of the discussions taking place as Seb wound in the dyneema fishing line. Within 15 minutes we had a beautiful (although relatively small 1.8 kilo) tuna on board. This is an absolutely stunning fish. In the evening of our arrival we shared yummy fresh tuna hapjes and a cold bottle of white wine with the Elena’s.

The warm scent of land hit us about 20 miles off shore. Seb called into the harbourmaster via the VHF at 0545 just as the sun was coming up and a pilot boat whizzed out to bring us in at 0600. We tied up to the quarantine dock and by 0700 we had been visited by a doctor, customs and the local police. All were very friendly and the whole process was impressively efficient . After the entry administration we followed the pilot boat to a berth next to the Elena in a modern and relatively empty marina. We exchanged stories of the rough passage, compared seasick stories and shared the buzz of excitement of being somewhere new and unknown.

Land in zicht!

Not really but we are about 20nm from Rabat and we can definitely smell the land! No sailing in the moonlight but motoring through rain (the first in many weeks and good to get all the salt of the boat). Our ETA is 0630am at the moment. We want to arrive at daylight so we are taking it slowly. It is exciting to be in Morocco in only a few hours.

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Photos of Portugal

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On Our Way Again

Feeling a little tired of Lisbon and wanting to make some headway, we sailed overnight the 120 nautical miles from Lisbon to Sagres, the southwestern-most point in Europe. Seb and I visited Sagres seven years ago while I was working in Lisbon. We stayed in the poussada on the hill and remember looking out at a sailboat anchored next to the cliffs and thinking how lucky they were to be there with their own sailboat. It was cloudy and there was an uncomfortable swell but we dropped anchor anyhow and had a nostalgic moment before heading on to Portamao.

Met up with the Elena crew again in Vila Real de San Antonio, our last planned stop in Europe. Great to see them again and Emma and Mees picked up their friendship with great enthusiasm.

Surf’s Up

Seb and I took a surfing lesson at the Praia Pequeno in Sintra. With typical laid-back surfer’s attitude we booked a lesson for 1000 (and donned our hot rented wetsuits at this time) and finally actually got on our boards at 1200. I had beginners luck and managed to stand up on my first wave! Incredibly hard work to battle out through the swell (1,5m waves) and very tiring but great fun! Seb was a natural and the surf instructor was truly impressed with what he described as Seb’s “classic” style. The beach seemed to be a secret surfer’s beach, and we were wowed by the performances of a recent Brazilian national champion and the current world champion. We left feeling exhausted but with a goofy sense of accomplishment.

Pindakaas, Leverpastei and Slaapzakjes

Oma, Tante Linda and Cool Uncle Wouter arrived on Sunday evening bearing incredible quantities of typical Dutch fair and of course, cadeautjes for the little monkeys.

We spent the week as super-tourists on Monday wandering around Lisbon, visiting Sintra and spending lots of time on and in the monuments in Belem. We were lucky enough to move the boat from the rather ugly industrial dock of Alcantan to the beautiful spot rarely available for visiting boats in Belem. The marina is located at the foot of the Monument to the Discoveries and just in front of the incredibly big and beautiful white marble Monesterio de Jeronimo.

A very nice man helped us to dock in Belem. Later in the evening he was sitting in his motor boat grilling sardines and proudly handed one to Seb and one to me. They were hot, juicy and full of delicious flavour. We wandered over a little later to give him a pair of small Delftsblauwe klompjes and he rewarded us with some cheese made at the farm of one of his relatives. This was positively the smelliest (lingering) and most delicious soft cheese. Victor (or Vito as we learned to call him) was a fisherman in his younger days and now just fishes for pleasure. Very friendly. He recommended a small café run by his family just up from the dock. Seb and I took Emma and Macsen there later in the week and dug into sardinhas up to our elbows. Sometimes things just feel good.

Porto, Peniche, The Cabo de Roca Effect and Cascais

Porto is a beautiful if slightly wilted old city. Against the advice of the pilot we tied the boats up to the high-sided bank in the center. The lines needed to be adjusted every few hours to compensate for the tide but otherwise we were in a perfect position and the only sailboats to be seen. The boats looked great with the Ponte Dom Luis I bridge (built by Eiffel) in the background against the Hollywood-like signs of all of the great port-houses on the other side of the river – Croft, Sandeman, Burmester, Taylor, Galem, Graham, Niepoort and more.

On the overnight voyage for the 120 nautical miles from Porto to Peniche, there was little wind so we motor-sailed for much of the way, sadly a very boring trip. Peniche is a pretty harbour and we stayed an extra day to take a bus to the medieval village of Obidos, where the castle is one of the seven wonders of Portugal.

The 45 nautical mile sail from Peniche to Cascais began perfectly. We hoisted the half-winder and the mainsail and settled in for a fast and steady sail. We had heard from a Portugese man in Peniche that the winds could be expected to pick up significantly around the Cabo de Roca (the most eastern point of Europe). The Imray pilot made no mention of this effect but we approached with caution and doused the half-winder as the wind began to pick-up. About 10 miles from the cape we heard a warning via the VHF radio from the Lamawaje (another very nice Dutch cruising boat we’ve met along the way) that the winds around the cape were gusting up to 40-48 knots. A strong force 9!!! This was more than double the comfortable 15-20 knot winds we were then experiencing. The wind picked up slowly as we moved closer and the Pjotter began chomping a little at the bit. We stationed the monkeys inside safely and I took the helm to alleviate the pressure on the autopilot. The winds picked up as expected and we clocked 47 knots on the meter but it was a broad-reach wind and the Pjotter surfed comfortably and steadily through the waves and was not too heavy on the helm. Amazing! The effect lasted just over an hour and then the winds died suddenly after the cape and we had to motor for the last five miles into Cascais. We left this experience feeling glad we were warned and prepared, with a great feeling of trust in our boat and with a hope that our exposure to this level of winds would be minimal.

Cascais is a perfect little holiday resort with an incredible park and playground and a massive mega-supermarket with everything you could possible dream of so we stocked-up considerably.

In Oeiras, on the mouth of the Rio Tejo leading into Lisbon we spotted the big Pjotter sailing by and met up with them for a coffee and a cosy catch-up. We then bumped into them again in a café just beside the Castelo Saint Jorge in Lisbon, in a city with millions of people!!! They are headed off to Madeira to visit with their daughter and grand-daughter so we will probably not see them for a couple of months.

Hello Portugal!

Arrived in Viana do Castelo on a river just south of the Portuguese border and had some difficulty docking due to very strong currents. After a nice walk through the village we took a train with the whole crew (Elena, Mjolner, Pjotter) to the top of the hill. The view was fantastic and the cathedral at the top of the hill spectacular. The look and feel of the village was completely different that just over the border in Spain. The architecture is more elaborate, the streets are extremely clean and almost everybody we have spoken to speaks impeccable English.

We are, however, trying to be very careful to replace our broken
Spanish with our even more broken Portuguese. You only need to receive one really offended glare in Portugal after saying 'gracias' before you switch over to 'obrigada' ('obrigado' if you are male).

From Viana de Castelo, we rented cars with the Elena crew to drive up into the Parque Natural da Peneda Gerês. After a one hour drive into the hills we stopped in the village of Lindosa. The entry of the village is covered in old stone espigueiros, used for storing produce elevated to keep it dry and rat-free, and a large rambling castle ruin. The village itself is comprised of little stone streets made into tunnels by the grape vines draped across them keeping it cool and pleasant even in the >30 degree piercingly hot sunny weather. The centre of the village houses a natural spring and stone basin used for laundry and drinking water and a metal cup hangs from the waterfall there. We used it to taste the fresh and cold spring water, delicious! On we went through the hills for one of the most beautiful drives I have ever taken. We ended in a little village with hot spring pools located just next to the cool fresh river. We all had a good swim in the cool and long soak in the warm and the little monkeys had a wonderful time splashing about. A great day!

Our next stop was about 20 nautical miles down the coast in Povoa de Varzim. Povoa has a big open harbour with more boats on land than along the docks in the water - the majority with a Portuguese courtesy flag, thus not from the area. It is in this port where you begin to really see the 'stayers.' Either people who simply abandon or try to sell their boats because the cruising life doesn't agree with them or people who have fallen so in love with the Portuguese way of life that they stay a year or more. The guest book in the harbour is full of woeful messages of good-bye from people who are heading on after 6-7-8 month stays and more. We moved on after only 2 days.

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Goodbye Spain

Big news is that Macsen has taken 5 independent steps! It happened in a little café in a lovely town called Baiona, the most southern harbour that we visited in Spain. He was leaning casually against Seb’s legs when suddenly he just pushed-off and walked into Luise’s arms. I guess he can’t resist a pretty girl.

We’d sailed down to Baiona from Isla Ons, a small craggy rock about five miles off the coast that is part of the 5 separate archipelagos that make up the Isla Atlanticus nature reservation. We’d anchored in a beautiful little inlet and (after I swam ashore) had a great walk up and over the other side of the island – fabulous views of the Spanish coast and gazing on one side and the Atlantic on the other. Masses of birds flying over head, roosting in every nook and cranny in the rocky cliffs and peering out cheekily at us.

Back on the mainland, we were standing on a hill next to the castle overlooking the harbour in Baiona when we noticed a dark blue Breehorn-shaped boat pulling up to the dock - it was the original Pjotters! Kees and Martha Slager are the previous owners of our Pjotter and sailed with great pleasure with her for 11 years, and were thus quite attached. They are travelling around the Atlantic for 2 years with their new Breehorn 44, also appropriately named Pjotter. The Breehorn 44 is a bigger version of our Breehorn 37 with similar long beautiful lines thus it is one of our favourite boats - apart from the fact that we are fond of her owners. We walked quickly back to the marina and stepped on board to catch up. Macsen did some expert climbing up the big Pjotter stairs and Emma was thrilled to get a bubble blower and a colouring puzzle from Martha. It was fantastic to see them here – looking happy and tanned and we look forward to seeing them again along the way.

We spent much of our last week in Spain either anchored or in the marina in Baiona. We had some ‘klusjes’ to do on the boat and the chandleries in the area were well stocked. Seb finally found a Mastervolt charger for our solar panels and worked away at the installation and…they work! With slightly less power than expected but Booh assures us that this is to be expected. We are now quite independent and can recharge our own batteries thus need only to come into marinas to refill our water tanks (and other water related activities such as big laundry and long showers).

Our last overnight in Spain was on Isla Cies, another island in the Isla Atlanticas reputed to have the most beautiful beach in Europe. It was extremely touristy and the famous beach was full of people, a surprise after the seclusion of the other islands in the group. A twisty hike up to the lighthouse on top of the mountain in the middle rewarded us with incredible views out across the infinity of the Atlantic. You can really imagine why people used to think you could fall off the edge of the earth gazing out across that expanse of water.

The 35 mile trip from Isla Cies to Viana do Castelo, our first stop in Portugal, was a great sail. Shooting along at an average of 7,5 knots and surfing over the waves (hitting an all time high of 9,8 knots!) with solid 25 knots wind on our beam, heavier winds that we generally like but the Pjotter performed beautifully. Seb had an amazing view of a group of dolphins surfing side by side off of a wave breaking just next to him. The further south we go the less swell we have experienced and only northerly winds – in short absolutely fantastic weather for sailing.

Photos Spain

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Ferdinand

Sitting enjoying lunch in a plaza in Pontevedra with the Mjolner crew and Adam when the café owner approached us with a flyer for a bull fight. After some discussion we convinced ourselves to go…I’m still not sure how we justified it but in the end I guess we were just curious and intrigued by the idea. As we approached the arena I admit to having butterflies in my stomach – the kind of butterflies that you have when you know you are doing something very wrong but you know that you are going to do it anyway. The arena was a big round stone building with uncomfortable but very authentic feeling stone steps for seats. There was a thick and infectious buzz of anticipation as the stadium filled – sold out for José Tomas, the most famous matador in Spain. I actually enjoyed the ceremony of the entrance of the matadors, picadors and banderilleros ushered in by a huge marching band. I didn’t have a feel for what it really was until the first bull was released into the ring – then I felt sick, disgusted, very sad, and as though I’d been kicked in the stomach. There followed a slow ritual slaughter of the bull in which it was gradually teased and weakened. I can still clearly picture the panting sides and the confusion and sheer terror in its eyes. I tried to look at the matadors and appreciate their skill and bravery – they were very elegant and as graceful as dancers and they came very close to the enormous horns. But in the end the whole show was one of the most horrifyingly cruel and saddest things I have ever seen.

Pobra de Caraminal

Headed into shore in Pobra de Caraminal at a relatively early hour. We visited the tourist information centre for directions to the natural pools and waterfalls the area is famed for and were helped by a very nice girl who explained that they were approximately ½ hour walk from the car park and ‘very far’ away from where we were. She was right. We walked and walked for two hours up a very windy road. I was carrying Macsen in the knapsack and Emma was on her bike. She had some difficulty riding up the hill so Seb attached a sail-tie to the front of the bike and she balanced while he pulled – a very effective way to travel with a 3-year old and much less work than carrying her. Seb pretended to be the Pjotter and Emma was thus our dinghy, the Spikkel. Since then they have coined a new verb and when she needs to bike up a hill she now asks “Papa, will you Spikkel me please?”

After a two hour walk past several very vicious sounding dogs we finally arrived at the car park described. The long windy road was full of very clear signs to the pools but as soon as we reached the woods, the signs stopped and we stood before several paths with absolutely no idea which way to go further. After several attempts along various paths we finally found one that continued up the river and after approximately two hours we finally arrived at the pools. They were worth it. It was raining a little and we were completely alone with a waterfall falling down into a series of deep pools of clear fresh water. Stupendous! I don’t think it is possible to feel cleaner. After a good swim we headed back along the long path home. This time it took us the expected ½ hour to get back to the car park but we still had the two hour walk down the windy road and the rain was coming down a little more steadily that was comfortable. After approximately ½ hour a car stopped next to us and out stepped the girl from the tourist office and her boyfriend and they very kindly offered us a ride back to the boat. What a relief! At the bottom of the hill, we stopped for a coffee and well-deserved ice-cream before heading back to the boat. Emma had biked about 6 km over the course of seven hours without any complaints!

The best made plans of mice and men…

Left Ria Muros behind and headed out for Ria Arousa, a short trip of 20 nautical miles. As soon as we were outside the protection of the bay we experienced the familiar ocean swells – tedious, swinging, uncomfortable waves that make it difficult to do anything productive underway. These are a nasty drawback to cruising along the Spanish coast. We were hoping to anchor close to the Castro Barona, an old Celtic fortress settlement and head in the dinghies to explore. Unfortunately, due to the swell and the lee shore we didn’t think anchoring was a good idea. We didn’t want to come back to find that our sailboats had joined the dinghies on the beach (please do not interpret this as a statement of disrespect for our Rocna anchor).

Instead, we dropped the anchor in a small bay on the edge of the Ria Arousa called Correbedo. The Mjolner crew invited us for dinner to help them to enjoy the two mackerels and the very long funny-nosed fish (we are still researching the official name) that Jeroen had just landed. Both types of fish were delicious.
The following morning’s plan was to head out to explore the lagoon on the other side of the bay where the pilot suggested that wild orchids grow. Unfortunately there was too much swell again to land the dinghies on the beach so we opted instead for a walk to the lighthouse. It was a beautiful walk, up through the village and back along the cliffs with some impressive views of the waves crashing in. We then pulled up our anchor and headed for Isla Salvora, a island nature reserve in the middle of the bay.

Following some careful rock dodging we approached an idyllic island covered in birds, huge jutting rock formations and (to our great excitement) feral horses! As we prepared to drop anchor we saw a figure waving madly at us from the shore. After some careful (and friendly) back and forth he was able to make it clear to us that we were not allowed to anchor without a permit. It turns out that we should have ordered this at least 24 hours in advance… something that the neither of our pilot books chose to mention. Grrrr. Sadly we motored away and headed for a nice but significantly less picturesque anchorage.

Santiago de Compostela

Our trip to Santiago de Compostela did not begin well. After rising early and rushing madly for the bus we ended up taking a taxi from Portosin 40km to Santiago de Compostela because the buses did not run until 10am on fiesta days and we wanted to arrive for the procession at noon. Just as we were approaching the city, Macsen threw up what seemed like three litres of milk all over Seb and himself. Fortunately, we’d thought to bring an extra set of clothes for him so we cleaned him up upon arrival and he was perfectly happy. Seb, however, spent the day in sticky clothes smelling strongly of sour milk.

It was July 25th and the feast of Saint James in Santiago so the town was chock full of tourists and pilgrims. There were small troops of musicians clad in traditional dress wandering through the streets and huge six meter high puppets dancing along in the plaza outside the cathedral. Santiago de Compostela is a beautiful town with little stone streets, cosy café’s and a very impressive plaza alongside an even more impressive cathedral. For 1000 years there has been a tradition of pilgrimage to the shrine of Saint James located in this cathedral. More than 100,000 people per year make the pilgrimage along the Way of Saint James. The city issues certificates to those pilgrims who can prove that they have travelled at least 100km by foot or 200km by bike or on horseback to the shrine. Seb was able to convince the authorities that although we had not come by foot, bike or horse we had travelled 1200 nautical miles (~2220km) to be there. After some discussion amongst themselves they were kind enough to issue a certificate in the name of the Davies-Ambtman family. In addition to the sheer beauty of Santiago de Compostela city and the opulence of the cathedral there is a very special feeling in the air even for the non-believer. The fact that my grandfather made the pilgrimage along the Camino de Santiago gave it an even more special feel for me.

Harmony of Nations

It was 2200ish and we are sitting in the cockpit in Portosin having a last glass of wine with Jeroen and Luise. My intention was to head inside to finish my blog entry (honest!) when we heard jaunty accordion music coming from the Irish sailboat across the dock. The accordion was joined by a flute and we decided to open another bottle of wine to enjoy the music for 15 minutes longer. After approximately ½ hour we decided to move a little closer and went to stand with the four of us on the bow of our boat. As we moved nearer we heard a beautiful song coming from a Spanish boat next to the Irish one. That was all we needed to grab our bottle of wine and glasses and head over to see if we could join in. We were welcomed heartily but were required to sing a Dutch song before climbing aboard. In the meantime the Spanish couple had joined the Irish boat and there was a great discussion about personal histories and music going on in a mixture of English, French, Spanish supported by lots of hand and body gestures. For the rest of the evening and deep into the night we moved around the group of 10 people singing Irish, Galician, Canadian (Farewell to NS and Barrett’s Privateers for those in the know), Swedish and Dutch songs accompanied from time to time by the button accordion or the flute. The songs ranged from playful to saucy to heart wrenching and were delivered with a range of capabilities from professional to slightly off-key and it was an experience not to be missed.

Costa da Morte and Cabo Fisterra

The next two things that you encounter while sailing along the coast of Spain are rather intimidating in name and history – the Coast of Death (Costa da Morte) and Cabo Finisterre (end of the earth).

Costa da Morte is the name given to the long stretch of coast lying in the north-west of the Province of A Coruña and which runs between A Laracha and Muros. The Costa da Morte received its name both from the many ships wrecked upon it’s treacherous shores and the fact that it includes Cabo Fisterra which was believed to be the end of the world where everything sunk into the sea (Cabo Finisterre translates into the end of the earth). We stayed far from the coast as we travelled along but the rugged rocky cliffs and jagged rocks looming out of the water forced us to keep a close eye on our charts and GPS. It is an ominously beautiful stretch of coast but completely exposed to the swells and weather of the Atlantic Ocean and it is easy to see where the history and legends come from.

Tired from the party in Corme and in need of facilities we stopped in the Ria de Camarinas and spent the night at the village marina. The harbourmaster spoke no English but he was very friendly and loved the children. In the early evening he encouraged us to join him on the dock to show us a octopus that he had just caught. It had beautiful purple and red colours and had an amazing way of moving and sort of oozing along moving its tentacles with great precision. As we watched, it almost escaped through a very small crack in the dock (and it was a very large octopus). The harbourmaster immediately started roughly pulling at its tentacles and I quickly assured him that the children had seen enough and it was fine to let the poor octopus go free. He continued to pull hard on the tentacles and finally his experienced hands deftly turned its head inside out and pulled out both of its two brains. Not a pretty sight, made worse by our recently aquarium acquired knowledge that an octopus is as intelligent as a dog (you can even teach them to do tricks). He explained that he expected to get about 20 euros for the 2 kilos of meat. Pulpo a lo Gallego is a very common dish in the region and I must say we find it quite delicious.

We rounded Cabo Fisterra on July 19th. As soon as we rounded the cape, the huge seas and swells from the northern coast flattened and we enjoyed a lovely sail. It is an imposing cliff and a milestone for anyone cruising to the south of Europe. We dropped the anchor in the small harbour of Finisterre and hiked (and hitched) up to the top of Monte Facho to the Cabo Fisterra lighthouse. This is the final destination for many pilgrims on the Way of St. James (O camiño de Santiago) and many of the pilgrims come here after completing the voyage to the shrine of St. James in the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela to burn their clothes or boots on the cliff. All in all a cape full of legend and history and as we gazed over the water from the top of the cliff we felt quite elated to be part of it even in our very small way.
The following day we moved on to Muros, a large but very nice harbour town with a gorgeous old town area, small narrow streets with stone staircases, beautiful old stone church and a old outdoor stone laundry house that is still in use for washing clothes.

On July 23rd, Seb and I celebrated our 4th wedding anniversary and were treated to a night of babysitting from Jeroen and Luise. This allowed us to have a wonderful meal hopping from terrace to terrace knowing that Emma and Macsen were in good hands. The last restaurant that we visited was situated just in front of a playground. We stumbled home to bed at 0100 and were amazed that the playground was still full of children of around Emma’s age. We have altered our schedules significantly and the children generally wake up at 0930, siesta from 1400-1600 and occasionally sometimes go to bed as late at 2300 but we have not yet integrated to this extent.

Día de la Virgen del Carmen

As we moved along the coast of Spain the weather was dreary and the sea swells made for very uncomfortable sailing. We did two very short 20 mile sails from A Coruna to Malpica and then the next day on to Corme. Elena, Mjolner and Pjotter were the only sailboats in the bay of Corme. The rest of the bay was filled with fishing boats flying festive flags for July 16th is the fiesta of the Virgen del Carmen. The Spanish festival Día de la Virgen del Carmen is a major celebration recognized throughout the coastal regions of the Iberian Peninsula. Virgen del Carmen, or the Blessed Virgin Mary of Mount Carmel is the patroness and protector of all seamen. The main event of the day is a massive parade that features the statue of Virgen del Carmen, all the townsfolk, many dancers and bands. The huge procession passes from the church through the town and down to the sea. Upon reaching the sea they set sail in extravagantly adorned boats, accompanied by the blowing of horns from a flotilla of jábegas, or fishing boats. Leonie, Rosa and I took the dingy in to the quay to watch (Adam and Seb were babysitting). We tied up to the quay expecting to watch the departure and then leave but we were strongly encouraged by a very friendly group of locals to join them on their boat to participate in the festivities. This small group of boats made their way out of the harbour, each carrying wreaths and bouquets of flowers to throw into the sea as offerings in the memories of lost sailors. Once we were out in the harbour, the huge wreath from the main boat was slowly lowered overboard and then each boat threw flowers amongst great tootings and whooping from surrounding boats, anything but the somber occasion that we expected. After a very fast tour of the bay (showing off the powerful motor) they dropped us off on the dock with a promise to meet again for the festivities of the evening.

I offered to babysit for the evening knowing that my martyrdom would attract sympathy and babysitting points in the future. We invited Sofia to stay overnight with us to allow Luise and Jeroen to join the party (Jeroen’s brother Sander and his wife Eva were visiting). Sofia was thus Emma’s first ever overnight guest and they were both full of excitement. With fireworks booming and music and singing blasting from the shore, we barely managed to get the kids to bed before 2330! This was after several books and games and some great modeling of Seb and my snorkelling masks (see photos). All of the adults, (excepting myself) took full advantage of the Spanish fiesta and danced until dawn. Two enormous grandstands dominated the village square (approximate population 2700 people so it was a family affair) and from 2230 until 0530 the bands alternated, several scantily clad women (and a couple of men) crooning Spanish melodies and dancing with wildly swinging hips. A great time was had by all (and my time will come).

Tapas, Turtles, Gaitas and a Budding Marine Biologist

A Coruna is the most popular first stop for long distance cruisers from Northern Europe. The harbour is full (although less full than former years) of sailboats flying (amongst others) French, German, Norwegian, Danish, UK, Swedish and of course, Dutch flags. We exchanged stories with a couple of other boats and were invited for a coffee aboard the Dutch boat, the Victory. This is a lovely, large, spacious 47 foot one-off cutter and its owners Jan Bart Kolman and Monique Vonk welcomed us warmly. Emma and Macsen had a wonderful time playing with their winches and distributing cookie crumbs over their spotless deck while we had a friendly chat. Seb in particular, looks forward to bumping into them again to gain some tips from Jan Bart who has been a competitive fisherman.

A Coruna saw us sitting in the plaza, wandering through the old city, and gorging ourselves in the small bars and restaurants. The food of the area is fantastic and there is a huge market with succulent fruits and veggies, delicious bread, meats, and fish. Spanish people (at least the Galicians) love children, give treats, kiss and cuddle them, and even the young boys love to play with Macsen. We have met many more Galicians through our children than in any other way. Galicia also appeals to frugal Dutch amongst our crews - tapas comes for free when you order a beer and when you take your child to the market or shopping you don’t have to feed them dinner because they have received so much cake, bread, fruit etc. in free snackies.

On our second day in A Coruna, we had a rather surrealistic experience while sitting and eating shared tapas-ish dinner on the docks between out boats (Elena, Mjolner and a newcomer called the Zilvermeeuw). A very faint sound of bagpipes moved closer and closer - were our navigation skills so bad? Where we in Scotland? Finally we saw a small motor boat driving slowly past with about 5 people, 2 of whom were dancing around and playing bagpipes. We waved and clapped and they waved back. The boat then turned back to us and a chubby little man held out a bucket from which he fished a small turtle. He handed it over to us with a big smile and a wave and off they drove still swaying to the sound of the ‘doedelzak’ (I love the Dutch word for bagpipes). I have since learned that this is locally known as a gaitas galega and is a very popular traditional instrument in the region. The Galician bagpipes can be traced back to the middle ages (as far back as the 13th and 14th centuries), and are a staple instrument in all of the regions fiestas. And the turtle? He was greatly admired by the children until they began to poke and prod him a little too roughly at which time he was placed carefully in a big box with water, food and a hiding place to be taken back to the sea the following morning.

Our first rainy day in weeks warranted a visit to the aquarium and a trip up to the top of A Coruna to see the Torre de Hercules, a 1900 year old Roman lighthouse that is the oldest Roman lighthouse still in use. Macsen discovered a new side of himself in the aquarium. He loves to look at fish – we couldn’t tear him away. This is a great aquariam with enormous floor to ceiling tanks displaying examples of the local sealife. Macsen stood in front of the tanks with his arms and legs wide, waggling his head back and forth, pointing at the fish and giggling.

Photos Isle of Scilly & Biscay crossing

Isle of Scilly

Crossing the Bay of Biscay

Golfo de Vizcaya

The Bay of Biscay or the Cantabrian Sea is legendary for monster waves and rough seas. The continental shelf protrudes out into the bay where depths plunge from 100m suddenly to 4000m and with the wrong wind direction and strength this leads to confused water and unpleasant conditions. Although I trusted our research and our chosen ‘weather window’ it is still a very intimidating passage, and our first longer than 24 hours. I didn’t sleep much on the night of July 6th feeling excitement and a little apprehension.

We pulled up our anchor and waved goodbye to Bryer and Tresco Islands at 1530 on July 7th as soon as the tide was high. Our main had two reefs as we anticipated a slightly rough beginning and taking a reef out is always much easier than putting one in. Strong SW winds from the previous days had shifted to give us a nice NW breeze but this shift resulted in some large waves as we sailed out into the bay. Although we expected rough weather, 12 hours of 3m waves and swells with winds of 20-25 knots still made for a very uncomfortable night, particularly as Seb and I were both getting our sea legs. At 2100 we put the thankfully still cheerful monkeys to bed (Macsen in the bow and Emma with us) and settled into our watch. The first night was spent huddled in the cockpit with a eye on the horizon with little ability or desire to do much else. Fortunately, the winds reduced to 15 knots by early morning on the 8th and the waves calmed and we sailed at a smooth 6,5 knots into a beautiful sunny day.

Our SSB radio is working and we were able to pick up weather information and chat to the Mjolner, Elena and also the Tangaroa, just now departing from the Netherlands. We set up a plan to chat at 0900, 1500, 2100 and 0300 each day, starting out on VHF and moving to SSB when we were out of range. The VHF radio has a radius of approximately 20-30 miles (the horizon from the top of the mast) but the SSB should have a global reach.

My watch on the second night began at 2000. At 2200, I rushed inside to Seb and Emma. “Emma, are you awake?””No, Mama, I’m sleeping.” A quick whisper of “The dolphins are here” and both Emma and Seb jumped out of bed in great excitement. We watched in awe as about 10 dolphins jumped around our bow and leapt through the air next to the boat, swimming around and around to do it again. Amazing. Emma had been watching Seb catch fish for the last few weeks and said very seriously “Mama, can we catch them and put them in a bucket? They are very small dolphins.” I managed to convince her that they wouldn’t fit and would probably not find that to their liking at all and she seemed to accept that and went back to laughing out loud as they leapt about beside the boat. Since then, we have been incredibly lucky and they seem to travel along with us. Sometimes groups of 3-4 and sometimes as many as 20. Sometimes they are calm and just swim along next to the boat and sometimes they frolic about, jump into the air and make faces at us. Absolutely incredible, we are walking around with grins from ear to ear. It is absolutely impossible to be grumpy when dolphins are around.

The wind almost disappeared on the 9th and we hoisted our spinnaker for the first time. Cruising along under the big bright blue and yellow balloon with the dolphins splashing around us…couldn’t be any better. Emma and Macsen were both thrilled with the sail and the dolphins, Macsen doing his now trademark excited ‘kijk’ squeak and pointing his thumb and finger. Mjolner was in the area and motored alongside to take some pictures. After a couple of hours we took it down, although we were happy that we were able to translate 5 knots of wind into 2,9 knots SOG we needed to turn the motor on if we wanted to arrive in La Coruna within a week.

The rest of the day was spent motoring in the sun, bathing in the cockpit, watching the dolphins and generally enjoying ourselves.
Land in zicht! Seb caught the first glimpse of a looming cliffs in the distance at about 0500 on Friday July 10th. It was a great feeling to sail into the bay. I expected to feel a great sense of accomplishment and relief but in the end it was just really nice to arrive, be in Spain and see the Elena and Mjolner crew again. Although we were very careful with the planning of our departure it remains a very intimidating passage and we are delighted that it was so pleasant and enjoyable.

Land in zicht!

It is now 04:49 and we can see lights on the coast of Spain. Still around 9 hours left before we actually get to La Coruna. We are enjoying our last miles sailing in the moonlight... (posted via SSB)

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Bald Men and Biscay!!!

After ten wonderful and relaxing days on the Isles of Scilly we have a weather window to cross the Bay of Biscay! Ten days spent exploring, fishing, hiking, biking, beach bbq-ing and having lots of good chats and laughs. Water tanks and diesel tanks are full, sails ready, warm meals have been cooked, everything stowed as securely as possible and the children have been chased around and around the playground to expend as much energy as possible before departure. Finally, the boys have all close cropped their hair to maximize the aerodynamics of the crossing. A few more hours to wait for high tide and then we expect to shoot with wind on our beam out into the bay of Biscay. The plan is to arrive in La Caruna, Spain on Saturday morning.

Coupe Biscay

The 3rd Musketeer

The Mjølner arrived this morning!!! Jeroen called at 0730 this morning to say that they were a few hours away. With great excitement we got together with the Elena crew to put our Mjølner receiving plan into action: baked brownies, decorated our dinghies, cooled champagne and “reserved” a mooring buoy with balloons and a welcome poem. At 0830 we could talk to them over the marifone, which meant that they were closing in…it also meant that they could hear us scheming with the Elena crew. With great presence of mind I started speaking in code to Adam to suggest that we move to channel six. Unfortunately, I chose to speak in a rare form of Dutch/ English and it came out as “s-e-x” to which Adam dryly replied “we don’t have time for that now but enjoy yourselves.” Jeroen called on the VHF at 1130 to announce that they were sailing “between the rocks”, ie. entering the harbour. We leapt into our dinghies and sped out to meet them, Adam clutching a bottle of perfectly chilled champagne. It was a beautiful sight as they sailed closer, plunging through the sea swell, Mjølner really flaunting her stuff. We broke the spell with a few loud toots of the horn, the champagne cork flew and Leonie very deftly managed to hand both Jeroen and Luise a (relatively) full glass of champers. The rest of the day was spent pottering from beach to beach, eating and drinking and generally having a wonderful time. Emma and Mees are delighted that Sophia is finally here and we are all very happy to have our 3rd musketeer!

Scilly Islands , Fish and The Riddle of the Sands

Great sail from Falmouth 60 nautical miles to the Isles of Scilly with a slight wind from behind. It was slightly misty but we still had a good view of the Wolf Rock light house sticking out of the sea halfway to the islands. Adam and Mees came out in the dingy to guide us in for our first Scilly experience. We were also greeted by some very friendly seals. Anchored in Granilly bay at 1700, ate a quick and easy meal and headed for the beach on an ‘onbewoond’ island. The Isles of Scilly is a granite archipelago 35 miles west of Lands End, UK, in the middle of the ocean, officially designated as an’Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty’ and known for being very hard to navigate. With modern charts, GPS chart plotters etc. it has become a lot easier and as long as you are careful , stick to the clear routes and carefully monitor the tides you should be OK. There is a real mystery and aura of difficulty about the Isles of Scilly that I believe has been carefully cultivated by those in the know. We will do our best to propagate this myth as well to ensure that the islands remain as lovely and untouched as they are today.

Breaking news of the week is that we have eaten our first self-caught fish! The Elena family spent yesterday afternoon pottering about in the dingy and hauling in fish after fish, one of which weighed a kilo! We had an absolutely divine Thai (fresh, fresh, fresh) fish curry for dinner – soooo yummy!

And the riddle of the sands? Last night we anchored in Saint Helen’s Pool, a well protected bay in the north of the Scillies. We carefully set the anchor alarm and double checked the height of the tides, agreeing that we should have enough water under our keel even if it went to the lowest tide (which it wouldn’t). At 0300 I woke up and gently nudged Seb “I think we are aground.” We both jumped out of bed and indeed, the boat was lying on a slight angle and we were clearly stuck in the mud. We checked the anchor and the depth on the charts, we had not drifted and the charts indicated good depth. Sand moves of course and we were just unlucky enough to have landed on top of a recently drifted sand bank under the water. It was an uncomfortable feeling as we stayed stuck for another hour and then felt ourselves slowly drifting clear. No real problem but something we would definitely like to avoid in the future.

Emma's 3rd birthday

Plans for the birthday party went into execution last night with the baking of the birthday cake (see photo). Leonie and I then spent 2 hours making hats and wrapping presents (while the boys pretended to help but actually played/ worked to get our SSB radios working – also very important). After several attempts, Emma’s princess hat was a bit of a disappointment. This was a feeling that she obviously shared the following morning as she immediately shunned it in favour of Macsen’s much cooler crown.

The day was planned almost to the minute. Taps sounded at 0730 and we dressed and readied ourselves for the day. This was followed by a visit from the Elena crew at 0900 for coffee, croissants, party hats and presents. We then took a mini-bus to the seal sanctuary in Gweek (1/2 hour away) where we wandered around, watched the seals, played in the rock pools and had a kinder-champagne brunch. The highlight of this visit were the little fish that Emma and Mees got to throw to the fur seals (some of which were gulped up straight out of the air!). Back to the boats for naptime followed by cake and more presents. Then we had some unscheduled activity…Emma and Mees found a tube of zinc salve (for diaper rash) and smeared it all over their faces, hair, clothes and the playroom on the Elena (see photo). This unscheduled activity (and the subsequent clean-up) was run in parallel with an unscheduled diesel tanking of both boats so we were temporarily a little more chaotic than usual. Finally, we settled in for a pancake and strawberry dinner at 1800. Emma closed off her busy day with an international Skype session with the Netherlands and Canada before collapsing (very happily I think) into her bed at 2000 (or shortly thereafter).

Photos of Emma's birthday

Why is a ship called she?

Found this on the wall at the Chain Locker pub in Falmouth.

Photos South England II

South England II

Fowey, Falmouth and a Free Evening

Beautiful evening sail from Cawsand to Fowey. Set off just after dinner, put the monkeys to bed and enjoyed a very fast and smooth (though again upwind) sail. The seas were flatter and the wind steady and the Pjotter was performing extremely well. Arrived in Fowey and navigated up the narrow entrance in the dark. Pulled up to Albert’s Quay and enjoyed a drink with Adam and Leonie to celebrate a beautiful sail before heading off to bed. We stayed in Fowey for 2 days and the boys let Leonie and I go out to the pub two evenings in a row!

The last morning before our departure for Falmouth we took a walk around the Fowey harbor. This walk was touted as one of the 100 most beautiful walks in England and intended for the ‘more energetic’ walker. It was indeed a very beautiful wooded walk with great views over the harbour and our boats and a perfect bridge and stream for bathing the little ones about halfway along. After four miles of up and down climbing, carrying Macsen and Pieter on our backs and frequently carrying Emma and Mees and/or their bicycles, we were happy to plop ourselves down for lunch at the Ferry Inn.

And now we are sitting in the Falmouth Harbour. Adam and Leonie kindly offered to look after the little monkeys last night and Seb and I had the treat of a great dinner with just the two of us followed by a beer in the local pub (Chain Locker) on the pier, opened in 1742. Emma was briefly awake but Adam expertly cuddled and read to her and after a little negotiation on whether to have another book, was able to coax her back to bed. Seb and I are now ‘taking care’ of Mees and Pieter this evening to allow Adam and Leonie a free evening dinner out. Our boats are lying side by side and the children are all in bed so this entails listening to the baby monitor and stepping in to cuddle, console, read a book of sing a song if required.

Falmouth is generally considered the jumping off point to the rest of Europe for the sailing community. It is quite a thrill to be here. We intend to use it for a relatively small jump to the Scilly Islands (still England) and will depart, weather permitting, on Friday after celebrating Emma’s 3rd birthday on the 25th.

Dartmouth, Cawsand and Crabs

After a shower, a laundry and a very good curry we left Weymouth and headed for Dartmouth. The entry to Dartmouth is very dramatic, with huge castles on either side. We pulled up to a quay in the middle of town and settled in for a two-day stay. Seb and Adam had time to speak to the local fisherfolk and came back with new tricks and tackle, followed up with a visit to the local pub to hear some more of the local fishing yarns. Leonie and I were able to sneak in a secret ‘knutsel’ session and Emma and Mees (with the support of Peter and Macsen, Macsen least effectively) created fabulous paintings for father’s day. They were both strictly instructed not to tell the papas about this surprise but both excitedly disobeyed this instruction almost as soon and the papas returned.

The Elena family then spent the morning exploring the Dartmouth area on a really cool steam train while the Pjotter family went to the local doctor to get their last injections. We had done all of our injections except Macsen’s standard 12-month MMR (measles, mumps, rubella, because he was too young) and our yellow fever (because we didn’t want to get sick just before leaving). We were unable to convince Emma that our program was as interesting as Mees’ steam train but she took it very well.

The trip from Dartmouth to Cawsand was unpleasant and uncomfortable. Only 15-18 knots of wind but it was a long and bumpy upwind beat with current against for most of the trip. We arrived in Cawsand at about 2000 and dropped the anchor in the well protected bay with relief. We went to bed early and were greeted next morning with a happy whoop over the radio from Adam. The crab pot that they had set the night before had 8 crabs in it and at least 2 of them were enormous!

The villages along the Southern coats of England have a few things in common: the people are friendly, they are charming, they are full of lovely little houses clinging to the side of the hill/ cliff, and there are amazing views from the top of the village…but there is always a very long, steep and tiring climb (particularly carrying children and bikes) before you can enjoy them. After such an invigorating walk through the village of Cawsand we returned to boats, opened a bottle of wine and cooked up two enormous crabs and had a most delicious lunch. Yum!

Photos Hereford & South England I

Hereford

South England I

Channel Havens

After two fun and lazy days in Cowes we were off to our first anchorage. We found a great book of secluded anchorages in Southern England and have been using this as our travel bible for the last few days. It is much easier to trust your anchor hold when an expert says that you are on good ground. And I must say that in addition to the great fun we are having with the Elena and her crew, it feels much more comfortable to lie in a completely secluded anchorage when you know there is another trusted boat bobbing about next to you. We have been moving from amazingly beautiful bay to stunning beach to breathtaking cliff walk and we are all already running out of adequate words to describe what we are seeing (and this only a month into our trip). I personally will be adding two of these places in particular, Worbarrow Bay and Lulworth Cove, to my vocabulary of superlatives. Please review the picture gallery for a more adequate description. Suffice it to say that the South of England is delivering in spades and we have only come as far as Weymouth! In addition to the beautiful surrounding we are having a wonderful time with the Elena crew. Mees and Emma race about on their bikes, with their buckets or in their birthday suits, laughing and splashing and exploring. Pieter and Macsen have spats of interaction and spend the rest of the time smiling at each other or some other diversion, both very cheerful, happy chappies. Last but not least, we really enjoy spending time with Leonie and Adam and all in all it creates a comfortable, relaxed, interesting and exceedingly enjoyable travelling experience.

Oh, oh, oh, and I forgot to add on be of the most exciting little tidbits of news. After several frustrated attempts trawling along the way, Seb and Adam headed out in Spikkel yesterday evening to try some new fishing tackle suggested by an expert in Cowes. This involved some white feathers and hooks tied in a row on a bit of line weighted down with a washer (very high tech) – these are trade secrets so I’m afraid I cannot share any more details. Within a few seconds of their departure, whoops of delight started to echo through the bay. Within the hour, they were back on board, flushed and excited with wild descriptions of the 12 fish they had caught, sometimes 2 on a line!!! The weight of the 12 fish combined would have made an very nice dinner but each was too small to be more than a few bites alone so they were carefully placed back into the sea to grow another year. The search is now on for a new expert who can help them to catch bigger fish. Bigger fish are apparently much cleverer...

London to Cowes

We had a lovely visit with my Gu. “Great”Uncle Owen joined us for the first night and we had a nice evening that went deeper into the night than planned. We celebrated Macsen’s first birthday on the June 6th. Gu made him a perfect Macsen-sized cake with Dutch ‘klompen’ containing a single candle on top. I have never seen him more delighted. He stared at in wonder for a few seconds and then began to shovel great handfuls into his mouth giggling with glee. Perfect! We also had some good chats, tried to solve some of the world’s problems, relaxed and ate extremely well. We hope to visit again soon sometime around Gu’s birthday next March.

We arrived back at the boat in the late afternoon, after a 5 hour drive (2 hours longer than expected due to some road closures in downtown London). At this point we were completely sick of London and ready to be on our way. A fabulous package of surprises was waiting for us. Azita and Amer had offered to pick-up some handy things for us and had completely outdone themselves. More fishing lures (some as big as the fish I thought we would catch – one that suggested it was good for catching “even the largest predators”), special fishing lines, miso soup, sushi rice and powdered wasabi to accompany our first catch, and some great wool t-shirts (icebreakers) that keep you warm when it is cold and cold when it is warm (and don’t stink even after they have been worn for 2 weeks straight!).

Monday was a @#$%@^day. Pardon me. The locks at Saint Katharine’s didn’t open until 1300 so we had some time to bustle about in the morning. Someone had taken our 2 loads of laundry out of the dryer (apparently we had overfilled it a little) and left it in a stinky damp pile. This seems like a small issue but we didn’t know when we would have access to easy laundry facilities again (plus it was just irritating). Made it through the locks at 1315, having arranged to fill our diesel tanks at the barge in Gravesend, some 30 nm down the Thames. It was an easy and uneventful trip down the Thames, a bit boring if the thrill of arrival in London is gone. The current was nicely with us the entire way but the wind directly against so we needed to motor. The water began to get choppy as we approached Gravesend, direct effect of wind vs. tidal current producing very short choppy waves coupled with a strong driving current. These conditions came up fairly suddenly so were not really prepared. We waited for a large boat to finish at the fuel barge and then we approached ourselves. The waves were really crashing us about by this time but we continued anyhow. It was not until I was handing my bowline over to the barge owner that I realized that there were no fenders on the barge. Our fenders were crushed between the two boats, the netting ripped and one fender flew off. Suddenly ‘crash’ as the bow smashed into the side of the barge. Perhaps it was the irritations of the day but neither of us reacted as quickly as we usually would and it took several seconds and one more bump before we both yelled to the barge owner to release us and we pulled away bouncing in the waves. We circled around to fish out our fender and then limped further down the Thames to survey our damage. Two huge white scrapes in our new paint and a chip out of the rub rail. Both were feeling very upset, frustrated with ourselves and a little shaken and wondered if we should continue or just pull into the nearest harbor for the night. After a quick discussion we decided that we would still continue down the coast to Dover given that the winds and weather were favorable and we had just enough fuel.

Put the monkeys to bed at 2000. Seb had the first watch. I slept fitfully as we were heading upwind and it was a rather bumpy and loud sail. I woke at 1am to a wildly bucking boat and banging on the deck. I jumped up and Seb called out to put my foulies and my lifejacket on and come outside, “quickly if possible”. The waves were very high and were tossing us about in gust up to 29 knots of wind. We were just rounding a small cape at the mouth of the Thames and the weather build up resulting from the land and tide effects were astonishing. The genoa roller furler was jammed and Seb couldn’t get the flapping sail in. I took the helm and struggled to keep the bow in the wind while Seb went forward to study the problem. The boat was pitching about with fury and we needed to tack to avoid coming to close to the coast. We decided not to drop the genaoa manually but to finish the sail out to sea. Within ½ hour we had rounded the corner and were suddenly in virtually flat seas and a 15 knot wind right on our beam (90 degrees), perfect for a sail. Seb settled in for a well deserved sleep and I settled in for a very easy and beautiful watch. It started to become light at about 0500 and I had a fantastic view of the white cliffs of Dover. We pulled into the harbor in Dover at 0700, fueled quickly and decided that we were still in good shape to keep going. The tides were with us almost all of the way from Dover to Cowes so we wanted to take advantage and it was a fast and easy trip. Pulled into Cowes at 0600 after two full days at sea and docked up beside a beautiful big yellow boat, the Elena. We hopped back into bed to try to get a little sleep before the little monkeys awoke. Just after we awoke we heard a cheery welcome from the Elena crew, Adam, Leonie and their 2 boys, Mees and Pieter with an invitation for a welcome cup of coffee. We begged leave for a little time to shower in order to be more presentable companions….

Photos London

London

Paddington arrives in London

Left Woolverstone at 7am on Thursday morning and had a long but beautiful sail down the coast and entered the Thames in the late afternoon. Continued on to pick up a mooring in Gravesend halfway up the Thames at 8pm and settled in for the night to ready ourselves for our sail into London. We waited until 11am on Friday morning for the 3-4 knot tidal currents to turn and sailed speedily along the Thames with a 15 knot wind from behind. At around 1pm, we were suddenly approached by an unmarked speedboat with four menacing looking men dressed in black safety suits and helmets. They pulled up alongside and identified themselves, to our relief, as customs agents. Despite their looks they were very friendly and teased Emma as we filled them in on our plans. They left after about ½ hour with a very cheery wave and a small comment of regret that the they always seem to target the wrong boats.

Our excitement grew as we approached the Thames tidal barrier and I busied myself in re-checking our Reeds almanac for the seemingly strict radio protocol for crossing the Thames tidal barrier. After reminding Seb for the 7th time to let me know when we were at Margaret Ness so I could call in and ask ‘permission to proceed’ I finally got the go-ahead. I took a deep breath and radioed in our intentions and was instructed to proceed through the ‘Golf barrier’. As we motored through the space-age looking barrier we were suddenly surrounded by the city, big skyscrapers and structures of every shape and size. Continued along until we came to Greenwich and crossed the meridian with me and Emma fore and Seb and Macsen aft. Macsen was wriggling about in a makeshift crib in the cockpit dressed appropriately in a yellow Paddington bear hat. At 3pm we arrived at Tower Bridge, an amazing sight from a sailboat. Just next to the Tower Bridge is a small secret door in the wall of the Thames. This is actually the entrance to the locks at St. Katherine Docks and it opens only at high water. We waited on a bumpy mooring buoy until the secret door opened and we were able to enter the tiny locks with footbridges on either side. St. Katherine Docks is a pretty little harbour surrounded by fancy shops and restaurants, luxury apartments and full of ducks and coots and enormous carp swimming about to entertain the monkeys. Unfortunately, a large ugly hotel blocks the view of the Tower Bridge only 200 metres away but even this does not spoil the location.

Martijn, an ex-colleague of Seb’s who has become a good friend came down to the docks to welcome us. He is working for Skype in London at the centre of the Web 2.0 world and brought us up to date on all of the latest trends in the world of internet technology including ‘augmented reality’ and ‘virtual goods’. We put the kids to bed together and then took the baby-phone to an Italian restaurant next to the dock with a view over our boat to continue our discussion there.

Seb’s mother, Wouter and Linda arrived on Saturday and we spent the day walking around Notting Hill under the guidance of Martijn, and finished the day lying about in Hyde Park while Emma and Martijn cavorted about. We spent a really nice weekend taking very long walks around the city, eating huge meals and generally enjoying the feeling of sleeping on our rustic little sailboat surrounded by a huge modern city. Seb’s family left on Tuesday morning and Seb felt the need for a little cheer up so he filled the cockpit with water and Emma and Macsen splashed about in their birthday suits. Well, Emma performed very important chemical experiments with her buckets, scoops and the outdoor shower and Macsen squealed insults when she sprayed him with cold water. Hard to believe that this charming activity took place in the middle of London.

Our last day in London was spent touristing about to see the changing of the horse guards and to visit the London aquarium. Emma was fascinated by the fish, touched a starfish and gave Macsen a very knowledgeable explanation of how turtles work. We had a wonderful dinner with Azita and Amer. Azita was Seb’s ‘exchange’ when he worked in the Richmond office of eBay in 2006 just before Emma was born and we have stayed friends with them since. Amer gave Seb some new fishing lures and waxed eloquent about the finer points of both fly and deep sea rod and reel fishing. They also gave us some excellent tips on how to get the most out of our trip (“only do the amazing things”) and thrilled us with some great descriptions of their travels in South America. Amer left Emma with an important but little known fact; “Your hair grows faster when you sleep. Mermaids have very long hair because they sleep a lot, that’s why you never see them.”

Tomorrow morning we are off to visit my grandmother and ‘great uncle Owen’ in Hereford where we will celebrate Macsen’s first birthday.