Photos of The Gambia

Photos of The Gambia. Click here to view the photos.

Good Bye The Gambia

After a amazing 2 ½ weeks we bid goodbye to The Gambia for a 3,5 day trip northwest to the Cape Verde Islands from where we will depart for our longest sea voyage to date – across the Atlantic Ocean to Suriname. Seb and I had spent some time swabbing out the bilges and rinsing and cleaning the last residue of our watery adventure. After this we felt comfortable with our fresh water, food and diesel levels and after running the last checks around the boat we hauled anchor up at 0730 (sunrise) of November 23, waved goodbye to Lamin Lodge, and headed with the tide current out past Banjul and into the Atlantic towards the island of Sao Vincente, Cape Verde.

Water, Water Everywhere

“I think we are sinking!” is probably the last thing you want to hear from your partner when you live on a sailboat. Seb and I had been sitting quietly reading when he placed his foot down into a giant puddle that was the floor of our living room. We pulled up the floorboards to find an overflowing bilge. We rapidly began to pump out water and Seb calmly called for backup from the other boats “Would someone mind coming to help us as we seem to have a large quantity of salt water on board…” This call elicited the rapid response of Jan Bart and both Jeroens and while Jan Bart, Jeroen (Mjolner) and I busied ourselves with bailing, Seb and Jeroen (Zilvermeeuw) searched for the ‘leak.’ We were able to reduce the level of water very quickly but were still troubled by the cause. After much discussion in which the varied experience of everyone was shared we narrowed it down to a problem with the bilge pump itself. This pump is designed to automatically pump water out of the boat when the water level rises above its sensors. This system has an air release linked to the bathroom sink. Seb and I had showered Emma and Macsen using the solar shower (a large bag of water heated by the sun) and had left the bag to dry off in the sink, unknowingly shutting off the air outlet. The bilge had been acting strangely so Seb shut it off temporarily and, given that the air release was blocked and the bilge pump is located below the water line, the bilge system started siphoning water into the boat!!! A strange combination of events that we were able to recreate by replacing the bag in the sink, adding water to the bilge and turning off the automatic bilge pump. Although quite shaken, we were extremely relieved to have discovered the cause and to find that it was something very preventable. Seb called my brother immediately after clean-up and they concluded that it was an unlikely design flaw that could be remedied by installing a vented loop in the tube under the bathroom sink. Whew! I am also pleased to report that although inwardly quite unsettled, we were able to stay calm throughout the event.

Georgetown Back to Lamin Lodge

Spent the first day on our way back down the river from Georgetown just drifting slowly down the river to Baboon Island. This is the most stunning part of the river and we hoisted our half winder in what little wind there was and drifted 2,5 knots/hour (very slowly). This allowed us to get a really good look at the trees and reeds along the river and spot monkeys, baboons in the trees and crocodiles along the bank. A dreamy day spent sitting on the deck staring at the river bank, the skies for birds, the sail or our own little monkeys splashing and giggling around in their baths in the cockpit. Spent the night at anchor just above Baboon Island hoping to wake to some good hippo activity reported recently in that spot.

On the following day, after another lovely drifter, we arrived in the late afternoon at a funny pointy mound next to Bird Island. Walked to the top of the hill to watch the sunset, and stare at the beautiful expanse of the savannah, usually shielded for us by the lush vegetation along the river. A small group of children met us and asked if we would come visit their village the next morning and we eagerly agreed. A 17-year old boy named was our chief guide. Their village of 140 people lived in extended family communes made up of circles of mud and reed huts leading out onto an open courtyard where the livestock (usually goats and chickens) ran free. Our host showed us his commune and his hut which consisted of a single room with a double bed (with mosquito net) set on a mud floor, mud walls with a reed roof. The only adornment was a poster of French football great, Zinedine Zidane tacked to the wall – in a village with no electricity and certainly no television. Once again confirming that football is really universal. Once again we walked back to our boats feeling like we had just had a glimpse of something special.

As the river widened and became salty we picked up speed to make miles towards Banjul. We planned to stay for 2 days in Lamin Lodge to bring on water, diesel, fresh vegetables and fruit and hopefully to score another butterfish.

From Mandory to Georgetown

Between Mandory Creek and Elephant Island our electronic charts started to become untrustworthy so we followed the paper charts and the MaxSea electronic track from a Dutch boat, the Duende, that visited The Gambia last year and kindly provided us with great pilot information and cruising tips. Even so we have all been struck in the mud more than once due to shifting bottom. Fortunately, the river bed is soft and we have always been able to release ourselves quite easily.

Sighted our first hippos as we rounded Deer Island. We had backtracked a little after coming to an impassable bit and as we turned we saw eight perky little ears poking above the water. You don’t see much more than a snout and strip of their back if you are lucky but we were thrilled to see them. We floated about running from side to side of the boat as they moved around us diving under and poking their heads up again and making incredibly loud sneezing noises as they surfaced. .
Stopped for fresh provisions in Ka-ur. Weird (Tangaroa) and Seb stayed on the boats and the rest of us took a rickety donkey cart into town where luckily it was market day. The dirt streets were lined with small stalls each with a squatting proprietor selling their wares. We were able to procure potatoes, onions, cherry tomatoes, a pumpkin, watermelon and two kilos of limes for limeade.

The water in the river changed to fresh water around Mandory creek and in fresh water there are many more persistent creepy crawly bugs. The least pleasant are the millions of tiny black bugs that are able to penetrate our layers of mosquito netting. Seemingly harmless but irritating. When we leave our anchor light on at night, bats fly around collecting the bugs and we find little brown poops on our deck the next morning. Yuck! We’ve been going to bed at 2030 just after the monkeys as we do not want any lights on inside to attract them.

River becomes narrower above Kantuar and the foliage is more varied than the mangroves. Baobabs, palm trees and reeds filled with ibis, pelicans, storks, flamingos, and eagles and other enormous birds of prey. We were sadly lacking a good bird book for the area and I would strongly recommend anyone visiting The Gambia to include this in their luggage as the birdlife is amazing. This wall of trees is interspersed with small sandy bits that look like perfect places for crocodiles – we keep our eyes peeled and have seen several crocs and a huge lizard.

We reached Georgetown, our turning point on the river, on November 13th. For the next 6 weeks we will be only travelling west, until Suriname! Georgetown is one of the more touristy places we encountered in The Gambia. We were met at the dock by several people that wanted to ‘help’ show us around. They were extremely persistent and sometimes difficult to discourage. In the local market we bought fresh bread and canned drinks. We were also able to obtain 80 litres of fresh water for showering and washing-up. This reserve is kept in plastic cans on the deck as we are not comfortable enough with the water quality to put it into our tanks.

Communities and Crickets

After two days at Lamin Lodge, we moved a short distance up the river to Bintang Bolong, stopping for a walk and a swim on James Island on the way. James Island is a tiny island containing the eerie rocky ruin of an old fort and trading post founded by the British for trading in ivory, gold and slaves. Throughout its grisly history, it has been destroyed at least three times and has been in the hands of the British, French, Dutch and various pirates. It was finally abandoned in 1829 after being used briefly by the British to suppress the slave trade that had been outlawed in 1807.

The following morning, we brought the dinghies into shore at Bintang and were met by a lone youth who offered to show us around his village. Off we wandered together up dirt streets lined with ramshackles houses with friendly smiling people on the porches. The offered to bake us some bread and we purchased 12 very fresh baguettes and an enormous bunch of bananas. As we continued along the road we gathered children like the Pied Piper. All were interested to introduce themselves, know our names and hear where we were from. When asked why they were not in school they replied that their school was in the afternoon, half of the older children go in the morning and the other half in the afternoon. We were taken to a community run nursery school where we were met by a group of about 30 laughing and excited children (around age 6). The school principal guided us around the four-classroom school where each age group was sitting politely, only childlike in their big grins and their subtle fidgeting. Children start school at age 2 in this village and we were struck by the level of complexity of the subject matter (eg. sums and letters for <4 olds) and the incredible discipline of the children. Children are fed breakfast and lunch and a group of mothers were preparing food behind the school when we arrived. We were kindly offered breakfast but politely declined as we felt we had intruded enough. Overall we were amazed at how welcome we were made to feel and we carefully apologized for the intrusion and interruption of the lessons and left with a real feeling of wonder at how with a little care and cooperation a community with very little material wealth can build such a rich environment. Waved goodbye to the children on the shore exchanging truly happy smiles and headed back to the boats.

Second half of the day was great for very different reasons. Hoisted the halfwinder and positively flew down the perfectly flat river with more than two knots of current with us, beautiful sunshine and huge dolphins (reputed to be the largest in the world) swimming alongside. Arrived in Mandori Creek at 1730 and dropped the anchor amongst the mangroves. Birdlife was bursting from the shores and we saw storks, pelicans, several strikingly marked sandpiper-like birds, green and yellow parrots and several more high flyers that we were not able to identify. The boat was lying completely still and we drifted off to sleep as the sounds of the birds slowly became the sounds of the crickets as night fell.

Fiftyish Fish for the Fiftier

As a present for Jan-Bart’s (s/y Victory) 50th birthday, the five other boats chipped in to take him for a guided fishing adventure on the Gambian rivers. The men thus departed at 1000 in a long wooden pirogue flanked by two dinghies with baskets of live shrimp and fishing rods and the ladies herded the seven children off for a day of land bound wildlife exploration. Our itinerary brought us to see crocodiles in the wild at the sacred crocodile pool of Mama Bambo Folonko, in the Kartong Community Forest. We were amazed that our paths were crossed by loose crocs as we wandered around the ponds (with a guide). They seem to be well fed and do not present any danger, except perhaps initial shock, and the children were even allowed to touch one (although they were discouraged from going too close to the head). I suspect that this enterprise would be uninsurable in the US. We followed this with a visit to the Abuko Nature Reserve. Although a relatively small park, 250 species of birds and 52 mammals have been sighted regularly within the reserve. This was a lovely area and we had a small tour but our visit was cut short by our tiring little monkeys who themselves had finally tired of looking at monkeys (and baboons).

The men had a very successful day, catching four large butterfish, 24 various smaller fish and a sting ray and a beautifully striped but apparently somewhat dangerous snake. The Lamin lodge agreed to cook it up for us (excluding ray and snake) for a fair price and we dined royally. Butter fish is a firm white fish and has become my new favorite fish.

Banjul and Lamin Lodge

Sailed into the bay of Banjul (named Bathurst during British colonial rule but recently renamed Banjul, the Madinka word for bamboo) early on the morning of November 6th. We arrived in a small flotilla including the Atmosphere, the Tangaroa and the Victory and were welcomed by a red dingy containing Jeroen and Babette from the Zilvermeeuw. The harbour was full of rusty wrecks in varying states of decay, small wooden fishing pirogues and one large tanker. The shore was a riddled with fading and falling down buildings. I took a dingy in with Olous (Atmosphere) , Caroline (Tangaroa), Jan Bart (Victory) and Jeroen kindly helped us with the rather complicated and often excruciatingly time consuming check in process. The authorities were very friendly and the process was a little random and haphazard. Check-in took us first to a little office in the side of a warehouse where immigration officers were located; then along a dusty road to small shop to make copies of our passports and change money; then back to immigration; then on to customs which looked like a large busy hallway where our detailed forms were filed into a wooden desk which looked like it hadn’t been opened in years. Our final stop was with the port authority to get a river permit. Here we needed to climb seven stories up in an old run down building to fill in a form then walk down again to a small broom closet to pay and upstairs again to hand in our second detailed form (hand printed in duplicate) and receipt. The form ‘stamper’ was not available so we were asked to come back again in an hour or so. In total the whole process took about 3 hours which we were told was remarkably quick.

Banjul port is not beautiful and is reputed to have many pickpockets and ‘bumsters’ as the scam agents are known. Dirt streets, garbage and dust and broken down buildings were in great contrast to the sparkling bright colours of the formal and glamourous clothing of the people. While we waited, several wooden boats came alongside the boat offering everything from fresh fish to laundry and tailoring services. When we went on land we were met by a group of people rather pushily offering to show us around. One man walked with us for the entire check in process, trying to help along the way. We came to expect this when going ashore in The Gambia and while sometimes annoying it was often useful , the people are generally very nice, interesting and knowledgeable and it was certainly never threatening. The only frustrating aspect was that it was sometimes difficult to discern if they genuinely wanted to help or were just looking for a ‘present’.

After check-in we motored 5 nautical miles up a small bolong to Lamin Lodge, a rickety wooden structure located on a very peaceful muddy inlet amongst the mangroves. We headed in as a group for a candle-lit dinner (no electricity in the lodge) and enjoyed or joined our kids dancing around while an smiling wrinkled old man played the kora (harp-lute) and crooned African folk songs.

All in all a very intense and interesting day and we were all feeling rather excited to be in such a remote and beautiful place with our own sailboat homes.

Land in zicht!

It is now 0437 UTC and we are on our final stretch into Banjul. We are treated to a flat sea with 23 knots of wind so we are bumming along at 7 knots in the moonlight. Our plan is to drop anchor south of Banjul off the wooden jetty. Our ETA at the moment is 0852 UTC.

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Rough Seas and a Good Rhythm

Picture yourself sitting in a small capsule in your washing machine during a combined rinse and spin cycle and you come quite close to the feeling that we experienced for the first 48 hours of our passage to The Gambia. Winds were averaging 25 knots most of the time with gusts up to 30 knots and although the wind was from behind the waves were big and confused and thus very uncomfortable. In addition to this Seb and I were both feeling a little seasick and Macsen was unable to keep anything down for more than 30 seconds (although in between bouts he remained remarkably cheerful). The weather was warm and sunny during the day but that helped little to break the seemingly endless discomfort and monotony. Eating or drinking anything other than crackers and water was out of the question (except for Emma who retained a healthy appetite), sitting was uncomfortable, sleeping was uncomfortable and walking about was either entertaining or painful depending upon how careful we were. The only positive point was that we were speeding along at a good pace and we averaged 150 nautical miles per day.

It is now day three of our 880 nautical mile voyage and we have just crossed the border of Western Sahara (Morocco) with Mauritaniyah roughly 70 miles offshore. Things have returned to normal. The seas are calmer and we have developed a bit of a rhythm. As such, between naps and meals, we play fun little activities such as building a fort, singing lessons, ping pong Macsen (in which Macsen runs back and forth giggling between Seb and I), face painting, Pjotter crazy dance disco and going for a 'walk' and having a picnic ( ie. eating cookies on the deck, wearing life jackets and life lines of course).

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Photos of Canary Islands

Photos of the Canary Islands. Click here to view the photos.

Getting ready

In addition to the successful replacement of the propeller anode, we have been busy with preparations for our upcoming passage to The Gambia followed by Cape Verde and Suriname. We are planning very conservatively to ensure that we have enough supplies to last us until we arrive in Suriname at Christmas time even though we will probably be able to get many things along the way.

The boat has been an almost constant disaster for the past week, strewn intermittently with tools, laundry, food provisions, and visiting fellow travelers helping each other and exchanging ideas. We have come to the conclusion that you can never be completely ready, you never have all of the cool gadgets and provisions that other people have but it is great fun to discuss and taunt each other on these subjects.

Among our tasks have been the replacement of the anode on the propeller, installation of the new autopilot, installation of mosquito nets, reparation of the water tanks, installation of a back-up auto pilot, refilling the cooking gas tanks, marking the anchor chain, designing and hanging fruit nets, buying enough food and drinks for the next two months (not to mention finding places to stow it), studying the charts and pilots and planning an SSB and marifone communication plan to keep in touch with the other boats along the way. There were also a vast number of other small but time consuming tasks and all in all we have been buzzing busily.

There are five boats that are travelling on Friday and Saturday to The Gambia (travelling at varying speeds and expecting to arrive at approximately the same time), two Dutch (s/y Victory and Tangaroa), one Dutch and Danish (s/y Mjolner), one Dutch and Canadian (s/y Pjotter) and one new boat who's crew usually lives in Saint John, New Brunswick, Canada (s/y Atmosphere). The harbour in San Sebastian is also chock full of other boats, many of them whom are heading via various routes across the Atlantic as well. There is a wonderful community feel and an incredibly unselfish support network of people helping each other get ready in small ways by lending of giving supplies, exchanging ideas and often even spending days together sorting out more serious problems. This is the way the world should work.
Time to cast off the lines and leave La Gomera. This is one of the loveliest spots we have visited so far and we leave with very fond memories.

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More La Gomera with Jop and Mim

With Jop and Miriam we sailed back around to the anchor spot in Valle de Drand Rey. As soon as it was dark enough, Seb and Jop donned head lamps and cast fishing lines over the side. They didn’t catch anything but we saw some amazing iridescent fish with seemingly glow in the dark skeletons hovering around the boat. Amazing looking creatures. We spent two days in the bay heading to the beach, scrubbing the bottom of the boat and zipping about in the dingy.

On our way back from Valle de Grand Rey to San Sebastiaan and we heard the welcome zzzzzing of the trawling line. After a scramble to slow down the boat, get cameras, gloves, buckets etc. Seb slowly reeled in the rapidly wriggling line and there appeared an absolutely beautiful bonito of approximately 3,3 kgs. Seb was careful to be as humane as possible with the bonito and performed the bloodier tasks at the back of the boat. Emma was fascinated by the process but she did remark “Papa, I don’t think I like fish anymore” when he was finished.

Back in the marina that evening we dined on cucumber and tuna sushi followed by grilled tuna fillets. This was honestly one of the very best fish I have ever eaten. It was a slow meal eaten in the cockpit under the stars.

We also managed to get some important things done during Jop and Miriam’s visit. Seb and Jolp spent two days puzzling through the installation of the new autopilot. During our underwater scrubbing session in Valle de Grand Rey Seb had discovered that the anode (soft metal that keeps the adjacent metals from corroding) around the engine propeller was loose. We thought we would need to take the boat back to Tenerife and haul her out of the water to fix it – very bad, time consuming and expensive news. Fortunately, Jan-Bart from the Victory has a lot of diving experience and offered to swim under and take a look. Over the course of more than four hours and a lot of puzzling he and Seb were able to unscrew the propeller and replace the anode. They concluded the tasks justly happy with their work and almost hypothermic. Finally, Miriam and I spent an afternoon designing and building a mosquito net for the cabin entryway.

On our last evening with Jop and Miriam, Jeroen and Luise were kind enough to babysit and we went out for a tapas tour of the San Sebastian cafes. As we sat dipping our bread and potatoes in mojo sauce and drinking ice cold beers at our Berlusca, our favorite café, a small group of people started singing, playing the guitar and moroccas just next to us. We spent the evening slowly eating through a variety of delicious dishes , drinking wine and swaying to the ballads of La Gomera.

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

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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!