Nana sans Dadcu, and La Gomera

Santa Cruz was very social harbour. We met a nice Swedish couple, met up for the first time since we are underway with the Waterman crew, another Dutch boat with children, and were delighted to see the big Pjotter on a pontoon across from ours on the second day of our stay. We had a good catch up with Kees and Marta and we look forward to seeing them again in Cape Verde or in Suriname.

After four days in Santa Cruz spent fixing things, cleaning and taking advantage of the last big stores and chandleries, we sailed an overnight passage around Tenerife to Los Cristianos. We hovered in the bay until noon at which time we headed in to pick up Nana (my mother). Under the auspices of having to fill our diesel tanks we were able to convince the harbourmaster to allow us to land. Seb filled our diesel tanks very slowly as Emma and I went to find Nana at the ferry terminal. Very sadly, Emma and Macsen’s Dadcu (my father) needed to stay in England and wasn’t able to join us in the Canaries. He was greatly missed and we are very eager to see him in Suriname.

Left Los Cristianos for a lovely sail over to La Gomera. There was no wind as we left Los Cristianos but we had amazing views of dolphins and pilot whales hovering on the surface and in view almost the entire day. The wind picked up in the ‘acceleration’ zone as we approached La Gomera as expected and we had a wonderful sail (hitting 7,1 knots with only the fore-genoa, although Nana was pushing for 7,2 knots). In the early afternoon Emma went down for her nap. She asked if the dolphins were also napping and concluded that only the little ones needed to nap and that the big ones are allowed to stay up.

San Sebastian de La Gomera, the capital of the island, is a lovely village with a friendly comfortable feel and well-equipped marina. There are an incredible variety of fish swimming in the clear water under the boats, including a trumpet fish that looks like a mix between and sea horse and an eel, and we felt like we were surrounded by a natural aquarium.

After one night in San Sebastiaan, we motored along stunning coast line around the island and marveled at the tall cliffs with bright colored stripes. Dropped anchor in slightly swelly inlet in Valle de Grand Rey in the late afternoon and enjoyed an absolutely beautiful sunset under the cliffs. Mom, Seb and I sat for ages on the gently rocking deck staring at the stars and had to drag ourselves away to bed. The next day was spent on the black sand beach tossing the ball and splashing in the waves before continuing the rest of the way around the island back to San Sebastiaan.

Our friends Jop and Miriam arrived on Friday and we rented cars to drive to a house in Las Hayas in the middle of the island. We had an amazing view from the house and there was a great deal of activity between Seb, my mother and Miriam to see who could take the most amazing shot of the sunset with their new cameras. We spent our time in Las Hayas chatting, eating and walking through the lush and green tangled canopies of the forests of the Parque Nacional de Garonjay, one of the last vestiges of the laurilsilva forests that once covered all of the Mediterranean. On our first night in the cottage we opened a bottle of champagne to celebrate the recent engagement of Jop and Miriam. Just before we took the first sip Jop made the moment extra special by asking Seb to act as his witness during the wedding ceremony. Needless to say, this is a very special honour for Seb and he accepted with a big smile on his face and a slight glisten in his eye.

Very early on Monday morning, Emma and I took Nana back on the ferry to Tenerfie and bid her a tearful good-bye after a short but wonderful visit. Comforting to know that we will see her again in Suriname in about 6 weeks, accompanied this time by Dadcu as well (Hooray!).

Photos of Morocco

Final set of photos from Morocco - includes all photos of desert tour. Click here to view the photos.

Wonderful Willy and Angry Otto

Winds were slow but steady as we left Isla Graciosa and hoisted the colourful halfwinder to take advantage of some motor-free progression. After a tip on blade angles from a fellow Canadian-Dutch cruiser, Seb was able to get the windvane working properly. The windvane or windpilot is an autopilot that steers based upon the angle to the wind rather than the more common electric version that works by compass course. The Pjotter was finally silently steered and powered by the wind – what a great feeling. Emma was very impressed by the windpilot and promptly named it Willy.

The winds became rather light and we switched back to our electric autopilot (now named Otto) to stabilize our course. We still have to tweak Willy a little . Otto must have been a little angry to have its position usurped and it conked out completely after about 2 hours. Back we went to Willy and together we completed a very restful night under full sail. Otto, the temperamental autopilot will undergo an overhaul/ replacement in Tenerife.

Again, no dolphin sightings on the way to Tenerrife. I hope that they are not angry with us.

Stukzitten

Our stay on Isla Graciosa was short and we headed off the next morning for a 150 nautical mile sail to Santa Cruz in Tenerife.

After four months (excluding preparation time), five countries, over 2000 nautical miles, huge adventures, numerous dinners , co-babysitting, lots of laughs and an incredible amount of kaas-verhalen and ouwe-hoeren it is now time to part ways with the Elena. We essentially grew our cruising legs together and took on things together that we may not have thought of or considered to do alone. Elena will leave the Canary Islands and cross the Atlantic to the Caribbean on November 23. She will then continue through the Panama canal for a 3-year round the world journey.

Our last ‘family’ night with the Adam, Leonie, Rosa, Mees and Pieter was marked with a sunset barbeque (complete with champagne) on the beach near the Caleta de Sebo harbour The next morning, they all stood on the dock as we waved a very tearful good-bye and motored away. Elena, this has been an incredibly special time and we will miss you terribly. Fare thee well dear friends, fair winds and wonderful adventures. Pjotter out.

Going to the Dogs

Our passage from Agadir to Isla Graciosa on the Canary Islands was a smooth one. There was absolutely no wind so we ended up motoring the entire 220 nautical miles. Surprisingly we saw no dolphins and caught absolutely no fish, in an area that was once one of the richest fishing areas of Europe. We did, however, see several very large and medium-sized turtles. They are interesting creatures that seem to pass the day just floating out in the middle of the ocean in waters up to 3500m deep. Closer to land were amazing flying fish that took off like birds and are able to fly for 100m.

Sighted land at 0725 in the morning, big barren cliffs looming out of the water out in the middle of the Atlantic ocean. Very impressive.

I have always assumed that the Canary Islands were named for the bird. In fact, the bird was named after the islands and the islands are named after dogs. An expedition sent by King Juba II of Mauritania (Morocco) in 60 BC encountered large dogs roaming the islands and brought two dogs back to the king, The name Insulae Canium, Island of the Dogs, persists today as Islas Canarias.

The Canary Islands are a common departure point for boats crossing the Atlantic Ocean, including some 200 participants in the Atlantic Rally Crossing and sadly also including our friends aboard the Elena.

(Ei)Land in zicht!

It is now 0725 in the morning and after a lot of motoring we can see the Montanas del Fuego de Timanfaya on Lanzarote. We will make our first landfall on Isla Graciosa. It is a beautiful sunny morning after a rather uneventful journey. No dolphins, no fish, no wind but we did see a lot of turtles just floating in the ocean. Our ETA at the moment is 1045.

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The Land of the 1000 Kasbahs

Pick-up was at 0730 on September 24, by drivers Mohammed and Hassan driving two 4X4 SUVs, one for the Elena family and one for the Pjotter family. Packed our piles of luggage in and were on our way, headed for a 10 day tour of inland Morocco. Our first overnights off of the boats in three months!

The tour started with a beautiful drive through the Atlas mountains and the anti-Atlas to Ourazazate. The sides of the road were empty except for the lone goat herders walking off into the endlessness of the rock strewn mountainside. Every now and then we saw a Bedouin tent or a circle of rocks used for corralling animals. Stopped on a particularly scenic piece of mountainside and were met by a man carrying a chameleon and an iguana. The chameleon was very cooperative and changed colour as we moved it from green background to yellow. It had wonderful two-clawed feet that tickled as it climbed your arm. Fascinating looking creature, out of another time.

Met our guide, Brahim, in Ourazazate and after a nights rest we drove on through the Draa valley to Zagora where Brahim, Mohammed and Hassan live. Stopped at a Kasbah hidden away in the valley to have lunch with a Berber family. Houses and restaurants are set up in an incredible cosy way. There is one large room in the middle surrounded by little cosy nooks for more private moments. It is so comfortable to sit and lie on the floor on carpets to eat your meals. It has a very intimate feel and is extremely handy as you are then closer to the level of the children, which they really enjoy. There was also a high terrace on the top of the Kasbah and as we sat and drank the required post-lunch mint tea we watched the clouds darken along the valley, saw great forks of lighting streaking down and heard the echo of booming thunder. As we drove the rain stared bucketing down. We’d done some off-road exploration to get to our lunch location and had to drive quickly through the recently dry river beds as they can fill to a level that makes them impassable in a hour or so. It rains in the region only a few days per year so this was really cause for celebration. Brahim also explained that rain significantly reduces the risk of sand storms. Life in the desert appears to be similar to life on a boat, surrounded by seemingly endless expanses, highly weather dependant and there is always a shortage of drinkable water.

On the morning of the 25th we were given turbans to protect ourselves from the sun and we drove out into the Sahara. Stopped briefly at a well where a man was watering a pack of approximately 30 dromedaries (we thought they were camels but Morocco only has dromedaries). Dromedaries only drink once a week but when they drink they consume 120 litres p.d. The man was pulling up what we estimated to be 25 liter jerry cans full of water which meant he had to drop the bucket almost 150 times (including water for the four donkeys that happened along).

Our camp was very basic but perfect for our needs. It consisted of three Berber tents for sleeping and one cooking/ eating tent. There was of course no running water or electricity. All the same, the cook, Mohammed was able to create amazing tajine dinners and we ate Berber bread cooked in the sand (crunchy but delicious). We closed off each day in the desert drinking sweet mint tea under the stars and having good chats after the children were asleep. We sat close to the tents but didn’t need baby phones as the nights were so still.

The little monkeys loved climbing the dunes and sliding and rolling down. It is a very fine sand that seeps into every possible crevice and we were all completely covered. They never bored of the dromedaries and donkeys and squealed with delight every time we caught a glimpse (which was very often) of them wandering past through the dunes or sitting in groups in our camp each morning. Our second morning in the desert started with an hour long dromedary ride through the dunes which delighted the adults almost as much as the children.

Left the desert and bid a sad goodbye to Mohammed and our guide Brahim. Brahim commented that our children are very flexible and easy to travel with and he estimated that this is a result of the greater voyages that we are making. This pleased all of the parents immensely.

Headed into the imperial city of Marrakech. Arrived in a rather dirty parking lot and wandered down a dingy street until we arrived at the Riad Si Said. Beautiful place, hidden behind a small door. In the short time we had we decided to focus on exploring the medina and the various souqs within it. A visit to the main square is a sensory overload, pounding drums, snake charmers, henna artists, wagons with stacks of oranges of dried fruit, fortune tellers, and some very sad and cruelly chained Barbary apes. The streets of the medina are lined with shops full of beautiful shiny things; tea pots, jewelry, cushions, scarves, tablecloths, rugs - an interior decorators dream. This is all geared at tourists who appeared to be the only customers in the souq and were generally pestered by the frequently aggressive salesmen. Overall, an interesting city to visit briefly but we strongly preferred the people and the places we met outside the city.

Last stop was a two day visit in the high Atlas mountains, at the Kasbah de Toubkal, about 3200 metres above sea level near Jebel Toubkal the highest mountain in Morocco. The enormous mountains come in the most stunning array of reds, blues, purples, greens and greys and all swooped down into a lovely lush valley full of apple and walnut trees. We spent two very short days taking long walks in the steep and winding paths (always accompanied by two donkeys to help carry the tired children) and gazing out at the stunning views. One of the loveliest places that I have ever been. Closed off our Moroccan adventure back at the starting point in Agadir with a heartfelt goodbye to Mohammed and Hassan and a feeling of both regret that the tour was ending and real pleasure to be back on our trusty boats ready to sail again.

We were all completely enchanted and fascinated by Morocco, the people, relatively untouched pockets of culture, the many beautiful and varied landscapes and the delicious food have been some of the highlights of our travels to date.

Photos of Morocco

First set of photos from Morocco - more to come after our dessert tour. Click here to view the photos.

Wooden Boats and Fisherman

El Jadida is a small fishing town completely untouched by any signs of tourism, with an imposing Portugese fort at the entry to the harbour. We rafted the Pjotter up next to the coast guard boats amongst the green and red wooden fishing boats crowded into the tiny harbour. It felt wonderfully authentic and we felt a little like we were seeing something no one else knew about. It turns out that we were the first Dutch boats in the harbour this year.

The check-in process with the police took some time and we needed to evaluate our tipping practices as we were asked for cigarettes, coca cola, pens and of course money by a variety of people that purported to ‘help’ us. We had purchased a carton of cigarettes per boat in the medina in Salé for this purpose and decided to give a pack to the person who took care of our boat for the three days of our stay and individual cigarettes to other people that offered support (ie taking our lines when we arrived).

The fisherman were friendly and waved as we watched fascinated as they tossed basket after basket of fish from boat to shore. A foray into the town started with a careful obstacle course through the fishing nets drying on the quay, under the singing seagulls and past the wagons of fish – ranging from small sardines to massive marlins and two-meter long sharks baring sharp teeth (we are evaluating whether it is a good ideas to take another surfing lesson here).

Seb and Adam went for a rather painful but wonderfully authentic hammam in El Jadida and were scrubbed thoroughly. Seb described it as lying on a rather sweaty and warm bathroom floor, having buckets of boiling water poured over you and being scrubbed by a slightly masochistic man wielding a scouring sponge as you watched your skin fall off around you. Still, they were an experience richer and left feeling invigorated. The hour long process cost approximately 7 euros. Their hedonism continued with a shave in the barber’s stall for 0,90 euros. Boys night out ended with a stroll through the medina and a good long chat over several cups of tea.

During naptime the next day I went to the souq with Adam to stock up our fresh food supplies. Fruit and vegetables were in abundance in the stalls – including big juicy mangos. We bought bags and bags. Wandered into the meat section of the souq and I was a little overwhelmed to see the whole cow heads, piles of lungs and other portions that I am even less familiar with. We decided on chicken and walked to a cleanish looking stall with happyish and health looking chickens. We needed to select a live chicken which was then rather unceremoniously prepared for us in a rapid and efficient manner using some sort of strange machine. We rushed home to put the chicken in the freezer and cooked in long and thoroughly before eating as we estimated the odds of salmonella at about 100%. Fruit and vegetables are also very carefully washed in disinfectant soap before they are allowed on board. We also take off and wash our shoes (and anything else that has touched the ground) before entering the boat. All of these new rules are intended to prevent cockroaches and other nasty beasties from getting on board.

On from El Jadida, another 130 nautical miles overnight to Essouaira. Essauaira is a really lovely port town and we rafted once again against the local coast guard rescue boat, surrounded by blue and white wooden fishing boats. There is an amazing bustle of activity in the port at almost all hours of the day (with the exception of 1840 during Ramadan when people are finally allowed to eat). Essaouira is more touristry than El Jadida but this manifests itself in added convenience rather than detracting at all from the charm.

Mees turned three on September 18th and we marked this important event with a visit to a camel farm (this one was a retirement home for ex-race camels). Emma and Mees were beside themselves with delight as they sat side by side on a special children’s saddle built for two – and beamed at each other for the entire one hour trek. Extremely cute. Macsen and Peter were too small to take part in the camel riding but they made friends with the local donkey and this more than compensated for their disappointment. We closed the visit to the camel farm with a huge and delicious mutton and vegetable tangine followed by the standard cups of sickly sweet tea before taking the tired but happy children back to the boats for a nap.

The next couple of days were spent wandering around the lovely streets of Essouiara, admiring the beautiful cloth, pottery, carpets and wood and watching the children fly kites in the square. Seb and I were treated to an evening of babysitting by the Elena crew and we had a wonderful meal at a little restaurant called Elizir located in the medina. Before leaving Essaouira, we also slipped in a good girl’s afternoon and night out including a hammam massage and fantastic dinner in the Villa Maroc.

Strong Impressions in Morocco’s Capital City

Morocco is punguent. The smells and sights are very intense and new, the brights are brighter and the drabs are drabber and overall the contrasts are much more extreme than we are used to.

Our visit began with a ride in the pilot boat across the river for an early morning walk through the medina, or walled old city, of Rabat. It is the month of Ramadan so the medina in Rabat was not very busy. We walked over to the Kasbah des Oudaias. The Kasbah was very restful and we wandered slowly along the cool and quiet stone walled streets out to the ramparts to enjoy a great view over the estuary. In the middle of the dry stone Kasbah is a lovely lush green public garden and next to this we found a very small one-room weaving studio. Five women were at work and showed us how the beautifully intricate carpets they were working on are made. This is an incredibly labour intensive activity and each one takes a minimum of two months to complete!

Rosa was kind enough to take care of all four sleeping children while Adam, Leonie, Seb and I took a walk to the medina in Salé in the evening. Salé is the smaller town next to the marina and across the river from Rabat, described in the guide book as quiet and traditional. It was a shock to leave the shiny modern marina compound and enter the dark and narrow labyrinth streets of the Salé medina. The walls were lined with the small booths of the bustling souq. People stood or squatted to sell their wares ranging from lovely fruits and vegetables to wilted soggy ones, live chickens and other small birds and animals, colourful clothing and shoes, luscious cloth, left over spark plugs and wires, books, sweets, individual diapers, pens, other odds and ends and almost anything else you can imagine. Seb and Adam had taken a walk there during the day and they came back with an impression of squalor, sadness and dirty, quiet streets with stalls of goods interspersed with desperately poor beggars of all shapes and sizes. It was unbelievably busy and almost festival-like in the evening.

On the recommendation of the Lonely Planet, we took the children out to the Jardins Exotique, a 13 km bus ride from Rabat. The bus ride was an extreme activity. Our bus driver was clearly someone who strongly believed in reincarnation. He drove the bus like a small car and zig-zagged at great speeds through traffic slamming the breaks every few minutes to avoid hitting the car or wagon suddenly in front of him. The Jardins Exotiques are a really lovely and slightly comical place. They were built in 1951 by a French horticulturalist and are divided to represent all of the vegetation he encountered on his world travels – Brazilian rainforest, Polynesian jungle, Japanese pleasure garden among others. Emma and Mees had great fun following the color coded arrows that led up and down through paths, tunnels, along ponds and over floating bridges. Poor Emma very enthusiastically ran across what she thought was a field of green plants only to find herself waist deep in the middle of one of the ponds. I have to admit to laughing a little as I comforted my shocked and embarrassed little girl.

On our second evening, we ate dinner at a small restaurant next to the Rabat medina. When we arrived at 1815, it was almost completely full of people waiting for the gong to sound to announce sundown at 1840 so that they could break their fast of the day with the typical Ramadan breakfast, soup, egg, pancakes, milk and orange juice. We tried it as well, very yummy, although I expect that it tastes significantly better if you haven’t eaten anything else since sunrise. Pulled out of Rabat marina in the early evening for the 100 nautical mile overnight we planned to sail with the Elena. Check-out was again detailed but extremely efficient – our passports will be stamped for entry and exit in every port that we visit in Morocco. We waved good-bye to the modern harbour with great facilities and sailed on towards the little fishing village of El Jadida.

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

Click here to view the photos.

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

Click here to view the photos.

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.