Slow crossing

The least you can say is the trades were intermittent this December. We started with a Northerly in the Cape Verdes which became a North by North Easterly the next day. The next three days we had fair winds from the North East to East by North East. Then the wind died to a force three from the East and this stayed for three days.

The next 4 days gave us a force three to four from the East, which was only enough for about 115-120 NM per day. So a little slow, but manageable. After that, we had a disturbance taking the wind away for four days so we motored intermittently, the longest time we had the engine on was 30 hours.

The last three days, from December 25 to 27 we had plenty of wind from the East and North East. Our total average didn't drop beneath 5 knots, but our daily average often did, both with sails and engine.

From the Grib files I could make a few tactical routing decisions such as heading further South to avoid the worst of the disturbance ahead of us. W probably would have been better off leaving about two days later because there was generally more wind behind us. I will certainly get a 14 or 20 day grib forecast to get as clear of a picture of the weather situation further ahead.

But from a comparison of the different downloaded gribfiles, the change in the weather pattern wasn't really predicted when we set off. So it wouldn't have changed our projected departure date.

The only thing I can add to my defense is this: the day we left, about 12 yachts did the same. So we weren't the only ones making a slow crossing.

Together

0fter seeing each other only two times in the past six months (once in Portugal and another in Cape Verde) - not to mention the numerous skype sessions, I must add, we continue the journey as a couple again.

Today, Ingrid has arrived with a delay of 9 hours after a trip riddled with delays. Her account of it is here but on this end, it wasn't much less aggravating for me.

Good thing there is something such as flight tracking, this has kept me up during most of the night, first trying to figure out whether she had left Belgium, then following flight details during the following 24 hours. After a fitful sleep I got up at 5 a.m. only to find out the flight to Trinidad had only taken off at three a.m.

A couple of messages later I knew the new arrival time at three in the afternoon, at which time I went to pick her up from Grenada airport and her and our holiday finally began in earnest.

Grenada

On Monday morning December 27th at 4 a.m. we arrived in Prickly Bay, Grenada. After 18 days and 17 hours, we have crossed the Atlantic Ocean from Mindelo, Sao Vicente to Prickly Bay Marina, Grenada.

So Victor Too and its crew have crossed an ocean, it took us 2291 Nautical Miles at an average of 5.1 knots.

We celebrated Christmas eve by taking a dip in the ocean, but the New Year will probably see a bit more festivities as we will stay here until then.

Ice cream and cappucino were part of the early arrival celebrations, some good food and drinks are high on the to-do list. Today, the boat was cleaned on the inside, tomorrow the outside needs a scrubbing.

I will post some of the log entries in the next few days, but let me first thank everyone who has supported my plans in the last ten years, we made it to the Caribbean! Thank you!

Two thousand Miles

When I came to Cabo Verde, I didn't know much about it. It was my first encounter with Africa and as such, I came with apprehension.

But much of what I read is true, and nothing I read grasps the nature of these islands. After a month of cruising and visiting the different islands, this place is Africa and at the same time a lot different from my image of Africa.

So will I visit again? Probably. Will I go on to visit other African countries? Possibly.

And that is in itself a huge difference from the way I regarded the dark continent before; I see hope and joyful people.

And even though Cabo Verde remains an oasis because of its peacefulness, I hope it has a bright future and I may come back to witness it.



Tomorrow we will set off for that other continent, a new world. A long stretch of very little but water separates us from there. We will keep in touch with our closest ones, but we'll meet again on the other side. Grenada is our destination, if all goes well.

Flying North, Heading West

After saying our goodbyes, Ingrid took the plane home for another three weeks of work. I stayed on beautiful Boavista which we also will be leaving for Mindelo later today. The crew for the crossing is now complete with Mariette having arrived Friday.

There is still plenty to do, our trusted outboard having refused to start for the last two days, with a new vane cover which is slightly larger than the wind vane that came with the Hydrovane and with plenty of supplies to get.

But we are now definitely heading West, and will be doing so for quite a while, until we reach Grenada sometime late December.

On our last trip West and before returning East to Boavista, we visited the beautiful Monte Gordo National Park with a hike up to the top and a wonderful walk along a valley along tropical fauna and flora. Sau Nicolau was an island we hadn't had the time to visit, and it was well worth it.

On a trip in Boavista itself, Ingrid and I visited the desert and some oasis near Santo Tirso. This island is very arid but to visit an oasis in the middle of the stony plain is more than worth the while.



So after being in the Cape Verdes for more than a month, next stop is Mindelo where we'll depart for our ocean crossing, 2200 Miles West. After preparing for this for the last 10 years, it's a small step to take us just that bit further.

Beating East

After Mindelo, we sailed back East to Boavista. It was a 130 Mile beat with about 12 hours of motoring into the trade winds and swell.




We got some dolphins along the way, which was a nice diversion.

Forced rest

The crossing from Sao Vicente to Boavista was the first without a following wind. It's been a while since we had to beat into the wind, and the trades aren't much fun to beat into.

After a day of sailing close hauled, we anchored near the uninhabited island of Santa Luzia. We got in late, just after dark. The anchor held, but we put out 60 Metres of chain just to be sure.

The next day, after swimming ashore among large schools of fish, we left for Boavista. It was an unenventful passage, all the while beating into the wind with some 12 hours of motoring before we cleared Sau Nicolau.

In the final approach to Boavista, we were joined briefly by 2 dolphins. On every passage in Cape Verde, we've spotted dolphins, whales and sea turtles. It's still nice to see them, and it enlightens every day we're on passage.




Today, while visiting our friendly Belgian neighbour, I slipped while boarding and heard an awful crunching noise from the lower right ribs. After a visit to the local hospital, the verdict luckily was only a bruised rib and a bit of muscle trauma. In any case, it means no diving for the next few weeks. I hope I can snorkel the local shallow wreck, otherwise it's the beach for two weeks!

Now who can complain about a bit of forced rest in Boavista?

Pico de Fogo

After Santago came Fogo and on Fogo, there is a volcano. So we visited the volcano, in two groups so as not to leave the boat unattended. I stayed on board the first day and had a good time snorkeling and enjoying the island life.

The second day, Spencer and I got serious and we climbed the volcano. It's the toughest hike on Fogo and takes up to 6 hours. We started early and with the help of our guide we climbed the 1200 Metres up the slope of the mountain. We were glad to bring plenty of water as the sun rose over the crater rim. A short traverse over a lapili field - which are very small lava particles - almost brought me to my knees, as I was sliding down 90 percent of each step. It was described in the guidebook as the heaviest part of the climb, and this was no lie.



The rock climbing was on the limit of what I could do, but this was mostly due to all the loose rocks requiring the utmost concentration.



After three hours, we reached the crater mouth and had a magnificent view of the inside. The height is over 2800 Metres and for the first time, I experienced a lack of oxygen on this height. Also, the smell of sulphur was overwhelming.



After some food and a lot of water, we started the trip down. The first part is relatively hard, with a lot of loose rocks but luckily not too steep. It is an entirely different path from that to climb the volcano, to minimize the risks. After that, there is just endless fields of lapili, which you can run down as fast as you dare. Some parts we ran down hand in hand with the guide untill I got tired from running. The trick was braking in the gravel whenever you got up to too high speed.





After 30 minutes, we were down to a road leading to Châ de Caldeirao, the village on the floor of the ancient crater. We drove back to the boat to rest from our ascent of this master of all volcanic cones.

Jousinho o ladrão

Sorry, this post has been removed.

Island life

Africa indeed. The first impressions of Cabo Verde were mixed. The towns are typical, the people very friendly with a can do attitude. We quickly took to the ways and had a lot of fun.

Sal is a barren place, but when we arrived it was all saints and the locals in Palmeira were having parties for three days. All the action was on the shore next to the fishing quai. There was dancing and drinking and a lot of talking and we got a lot of conversation going with many people. We went to a very nice Italian restaurant and learned that there is a large group of Italians in Sal, and this is great as it adds to the already warm atmosphere.

The anchorages until now are relatively secure, but we might have to employ boat minders later on, after losing a pump while ashore in Palmeira.

Next stop is Santiago on the Southern group of islands, and then Fogo before returning to Mindelo where Philip will catch a plane back.

But for now, it's the easy island life. Mais tarde!

Mooring adventure

We are very lucky to live next to the most difficult shores on earth. We get so many factors while learning to sail, we end up knowing what we're doing a lot of the times.

Today, somebody on a sail boat complained to me about the Westerly wind. I can understand they don't get that often here, but I almost got rammed twice from a Westerly force 4 blowing in the marina. The first boat lost engine power in the middle of the marina, dropped anchor and sheered with its stern across our mooring line. They missed us by inches. When they upped anchor, the speeds they developed in harbour while going back and forth were amazing.
Instead of putting a line to the pontoon, they trusted their engine to help them into the next pontoon. They luckily succeeded.

Later, a 41 foot charter yacht with a very nervous skipper got in next to us, which he did quite admirably, until he throttled forward to try and pull the boat on one mooring line at the stern into the wind. Of course, all he was doing was pushing against us quite violently. When I suggested he just put into neutral and pick up the front line from the pontoon, all I got was abuse. He then suggested I moved away. Again, the Westerly wind was blamed for the incompetence of the skipper.

When they asked me where I was from, I couldn't help remarking we get quite a lot of Westerlies in the North Sea. Didn't make any friends there, I can tell you. But the British boat that came in earlier wasn't doing too well getting into the apointed spot, so he decided to ask for a different one a bit further down. A very smart move and although less cool and macho, a lot more sane. Something I've done time and again, knowing myself and my boat well enough not to be too adventurous when mooring.

Whales

Sometimes in life you get lucky. It happened to me yesterday, when we were motoring in dead calm from Gomera to Tenerife. I spotted a large group of whales right in front of the boat. We'd been snorkeling at noon in a bay off Gomera and so it took 2 minutes to stop the boat, don the gear and dive in.

It was a group of about 20 pilot whales, Globicephala melas, with some three young. They were sleeping or resting so it was easy to swim among them. I could see them perfectly in the crystal clear water with the sun filtering through. I managed to stay with one group while another smaller group dove a couple of meters. When the others turned around, I positioned myself in front of them so about eight of them swam past me at less than one meter. Had I wanted to, I could have touched them.

They were swimming in pairs or threes, beneath me, next to me on both sides, sometimes turning slowly. They didn't bother with me or check out what I was,being, after all, less than half their size.



The person on the right in the picture is me, before the group on the left catches up with me.

So, was this a life altering experience? Let's say it was very relaxing and I was very relaxed observing the whales, never feeling any kind of anxiety or fear. I didn't go too close to the young, even though it might not have been dangerous doing so. The tranquilness of swimming with these cetaceans is something I'll never forget. Humans aren't sea animals, but to get the opportunity to swim this close to large friendly whales is a once in a lifetime thing.

To do it from my own boat on this journey, I now profoundly and fully appreciate all that's made me be here now.

Deploy all lines

Last Sunday, after we slept off the passage, we got some disturbing news. Six metre waves were coming our way! After some checking on various weather forecasting sites, it turns out a big storm is coming down from Greenland. It will reach the Azores on Thursday, which is today, and create 50 knot winds and 10 metre waves.

So what has that to do with us, who are a thousand Miles away from Flores, where the worst wil hit? Well, in two days time, the waves will have traveled South West to reach us, and still being over four Metres high, could prove somewhat unsettling. So we would have to mind this storm and the effects it has. And today, sure enough, the wind is howling in the Azores and on Saturday, we'll get almost 5 metre waves from the North West.

So what did we do? The first thing was to check for dangers in La Palma. The sea wall is strong enough, the harbour offering a lot of protection to the marina entrance and the berths are pretty wide and the pontoons strong. So we could always just stay.

Next up was to look for alternatives. The next port we could reach was around the East of La Gomera, so also protected from North Westerly swell. But we couldn't leave before Monday because the marina office is closed on Sundays, so then we'd have to leave early on Monday without having seen La Palma and find a berth in the marina in La Gomera.

From looking at Google Earth pictures, this looks like a well protected marina, but alas with only some free berths near the entrance. So any swell would likely affect those spots worst. On top of that, the berths aren't that wide, so big swell could lead to some damage from adjacent boats.

So the next alternative is Tenerife. About a 110 Miles further East, but offering very good protection. But the forecast for Monday until Thursday was light winds, so we'd probably have to motor all the way there. There is some wind predicted for Friday, but that's cutting it a bit fine with the swell coming in Friday night.

And of course with the ARC coming up, all the Eastern ports fill up quite rapidly. Perhaps combined with the storm, we might find there is no more room in Tenerife either, though that's not very likely. So it was a long 24 hrs motoring to Tenerife, or staying put and making the best of it.

So this is what we've chosen to do, we'll leave for Gomera next Monday and since we don't have to be in Tenerife until next Thursday, that gives us some time to visit before we leave for San Miguel on Tenerife.



Until then, we deploy all mooring lines and hope the marina poles are well anchored.

Passion fruit fraud and Canaries

After 43 hours of favorable wind, we got from Funchal to Santa Cruz de la Palma in the Canaries Islands.

The two island groups are very close, but quite different in ambiance. The Portuguese and Spanish like to stress the differences between them, and for once they are right. But of course we sailed from one island to the next, and islands and the people on them are often quite similar. A shared European culture with tourism added in does a lot to blur the distances.

So a new island culture to discover, and our first impression was from the concert in the local theater, where Compay Segundo was feted with an hommage to his music. Everybody was well dressed while we definitely had the tourist look. The explanations in between were long as well as in Spanish, which made the concert somewhat stop and go, but the music was enchanting.

Today saw a lot of odd jobs as well as laundry being done and some fun and games to boot. The local market was quite interesting, with sweets, fruits and drinks of the region. The food will prove interesting enough, without us having to resort to strange passion fruits like the ones Ines and Spencer bought in Funchal in the local passion fruit fraud. Yet another tale to tell...

Ciao Madeira

Well, the permanent crew for the next three months has assembled, and we're ready to go!

The wind has veered to the North East, so we're sailing to the Canaries this afternoon. After Spencer arrived yesterday, we motorsailed to Funchal so Ines and him could visit the town, while still allowing us a speedy departure. We arrived last night after dark, but I've come to know the marina quite well from all our landing here with the dinghy when we were here earlier.

So today we say farewell to Madeira, and have one last splendid Portuguese coffee with a sweet before we go.

Passage to Spain

Well, I made it to one exhibition on Madeira, in the lovely village of Camacha. It was the wicker basket factory and store I visited and I even bought a laundry basket which fits nicely between the two doors in the aft cabin.


In the factory, two men were busy making the various wicker weavings but as far as I'm concerned, the technique is best used for making baskets. I don't really go for all the display stuff such as entire zoos, replicas of boats, which will founder instantly, and various quite useless wicker things.

It was a nice day with the sun out for a couple of hours, and I spent quite some time on a terrace with Dorian Gray, which I finished that evening. In the end, I thought it mostly good and although the style isn't really what I prefer, I did enjoy reading most of it. The annoying part is when an elaborate description is given of the collections Gray builds. After 5 pages of various types of cloth, jewels etc., I kind of gave up and skipped to the action.

My days alone are at an end today, with Ines arriving tomorrow morning and Spencer on Wednesday. The time has gone by much faster than expected, and certainly less tedious than in Póvoa. I walked along the Island a lot, and kept myself busy with the occasional coffee in a typical pastelaria.

But tomorrow we'll plan for Tenerife, a short trip South, and 7 months before we'll see Portugal again in the Azores.

Boca do Risco

Flowers flowers flowers.


I finally did the coastal walk to Boca do Risco, starting from Porto da Cruz. The weather was great, the flowers abundant as well as the Germans. The first part was very steep until I reached the cable car at the end of the road and the start of the coastal trail.

At an altitude of about 300 meters the hike up to Boca do Risco is carved in the sheer cliff walls. This makes for some impressive sights and a few rocky sections.


The view from the pass is very impressive, from the 350m drop on one side to the wooded valley on the other.


Quite some forest fire damage up there, and a sloping descent until I reached the Machico-Caniçal levada with new cemented walls as part of a European funded project.


Finally, upon reaching the tunnel, the bus stop was right next to the levada with the bus arriving 15 minutes later to take me down to Machico.

There was a bicycle race in the centre, so I sat down on a terrace for coffee and some apple pie, to enjoy the commotion. A tasty ending to a 14 km walk and a day well spent.

Senhora de Piedade

If all Portuguese have something in common, it's their love of religious festivals. After attending several on the mainland, this was my first in Madeira. Every third Sunday of September, our mother of mercy (a senhora de piedade) is celebrated. The town of Caniçal - next to Machico - becomes a big fair with giant barbecues and long spits with meat.

I happened to pass it at the end of a walk around the Pico do Facho and got some of the ambiance where everyone boards fishing boats and they make a round of the bay.



In the town itself, a lot of people had gathered for the procession and although it rained from time to time, nobody seemed to mind.

When I got back to Machico in a very hot and full bus, my underwear had dried. I had to put it inside because the intermittent rain kept it wet, but after a day everything is now dry.



I hope I can dry the rest of the laundry outside - if I get it done because I haven't found a washing machine yet. Otherwise it'll be Canaries.

Fishing is hazardous

Fishing is dangerous, as I just found out while hauling in my warps after three days against the harbour wall. Some idiot fisher on the quai had gotten a hook and line into my mooring warp and of course the hook sliced across my palm. Lucky for me, it didn't happen just as I was casting off the long lines to return to the moored whaling museum boat I had been against a couple of days earlier.



So I now have a painful wound on the inside of my right hand, which makes anything I do into a less than pleasant business. And some of my plans concerning odd jobs to do on the boat will have to wait.

Meanwhile, Machico is still a nice town with no obvious indication this is the third largest city in Madeira. The only thing not easy to find is a laundromat. I only found a laundry service which charges 15 Euro for 5 kg, which is a bit steep as laundry prices go. Since it has rained intermittently all day, I wasn't going to hang the laundry anyway, but tomorrow finding a cheaper laundry is top of the list. That list holds a lot more, so I certainly know what to do after the hand gets better.

Cruising Madeira

It was fun, being in Funchal again. A bit swelly as anchorages go, but close to the marina and still offering enough protection against the ocean waves.

We tried to circumnavigate the island, but lack of wind made us decide to turn back from Calheta and go to the other end around the South. So we got some wind but still had to motor for 3 hours to get to Machico, where we moored against a German wooden ship with a Czech crew on board. The two-masted yacht is on a circumnavigation - but the real kind, where you go around the world - with different crews.

So today there is some time for getting the outboard starter working properly and go for a snorkel and a walk along the coast.

Cruising Madeira is a lot of fun, even though most anchorages and even marinas get some swell inside. I've gotten used to that and never miss any sleep when anchored anymore.

Well, my crew is ashore on a walk and I'll go and snorkel in the crystal clear water.

Away from home

Yesterday Porto Santo, and today we're in Funchal, Madeira. The 500 Mile trip took us four days to complete, with a confused swell the first night and North Westerlies all along.




We spent those four days talking, being sick, sleeping, cooking, eating and drinking and we generally had a good time - except when sick. It was a bit chilly at night, especially when everything got humid. In the last hours, the wind died so we motored into Porto Santo Marina for a well deserved rest.

So now we're anchored near Funchal and tomorrow John is taking the ferry home, while Scott and Brandon will cruise Madeira with Victor Too the next week.

We had a lot of laughs and even though there was some grief, all was quickly forgotten after we sighted land.

I still find it amazing we can find such a tiny speck of land in such a big ocean, but for the explorers this was an even bigger feat, since they didn't know it was there.


Still, it felt glorious to step on land so far from the European main land. Victor Too now is truly away from home.

Jump off point Faro

After making it down to the Algarve, it has been a leisurely cruise. The last couple of days we met up with the crew for the Madeira crossing and enjoyed some days of relative rest. After getting supplies yesterday for the 500 Mile crossing, this morning Ingrid has left Faro by plane and her brother Marc by car, while we'll be leaving soon in the opposite direction.

It'll be ten weeks before I meet Ingrid again in Cape Verde, so we're lucky there is something like Skype to see one another from time to time. Of course this time I won't be alone for as long as I was in Póvoa, so there'll be plenty of distraction, but still...

We've been in Olhão the last two days, and it is nice to have that typical Portuguese atmosphere down South. The last couple of cities we stayed in were much more touristic and while this one obviously has lots of tourists, it still feels authentic enough with its winding cobbled streets and tiled houses.

So after enjoying the South coast and the Faro lagoon, we're off to Funchal where we'll arrive around Friday and a long way further South and West.

Communication woes

My employer just did me the great favor of robbing me of a night's sleep. It's the first time they did this since my journey began on July first. Of course, they robbed me of many nights before, because sometimes that's what a job does to a person. But I don't complain, since having a job at all is considered a priviledge these days, thanks to our masterful economists and bankers.

But to have to change ones' communications strategy with 3 days notice is a bit of a present I didn't expect. So I'll be a bit more difficult to contact and getting an internet connection has just moved a whole lot up the list of routine priorities.

As far as lamenting goes, that's about it, considering I'm a bit tired now and desperately in need of some sleep.

Yesterday, we met up with Bernard and Jeanne again and met their son Nicolas. We had a nice time and even though it's a shame Bernard had the accident with his foot, it's fun to meet some of the nice people later on down. They were a bit delayed because of the accident, so we caught up with them in Sesimbra. This is where we'll be for a couple more hours, until after an early morning dive. It'll be my first wreck, so I'm quite looking forward to it.

Along the route, we spent a couple of nights at anchor. One very calm one in Aveiro after a day of motorsailing in dense fog. And one quite bumpy night at Ilhas Berlengas, where the swell worked its way around the island from both South and North, since the wind had changed from South West to North during the evening. But snorkeling the inlet beneath the light house early morning was well worth the lack of sleep. Hundreds of fish, small animals on the rocks, and crystal clear visibility made it a very wonderful experience. I even got to swim through one of the many tunnels through the rocks, albeit a fairly large one since I wasn't so keen on doing the smaller ones on my own.

Ingrid got a very funny T-shirt at a souvenir shop, with drawings of typical fish of the region. I don't like all the Portugal shirts which you see by the hundreds, but this one had Portugal written all over it without mentioning it once.

It even came in a kind of fish-box which obviously makes it a design object and as such it was priced a bit above Portuguese standards.

It's getting a bit foggy outside as well as up here so I'll once more retire to bed to wait for seven when we'll rise and I'll get my diving gear.

Scrape, paint and everything in between

Victor Too looks ready to go in the water, and she almost is.
The different stages to get the hull painted were scraping her down, until she looked like this:


Then it was applying the antifouling, now she looks like this:

Just two images, and it looks like there is nothing to it. And of course it was nothing as hard as what I'd imagined. Not that I would do it again, noooooooooooooo way!

I generally scraped two hours in the morning and two in the evening. After noon and before 5 p.m. it was too hot to do this, and my arms and shoulders welcomed the rest. And there was plenty to do in between, so I kept my days full with other jobs. I sewed all the protection covers for the hatches and made another fly screen for the main hatch. I took the prop off - or rather, had it taken off by Tomané and then put it back on with mild force and a lot of grease. The grease will hopefully ensure I can get it off under water when I want to have the folding prop on.

After the hull was clean, I took some pictures, waited for the wind to subside and on Friday ground the rust from the keel. I then immediately put on a first coat of antifouling so the rust didn't get a chance to take hold again. On Saturday morning, I put on the first coat of antifouling to the hull and the second on the keel. And on Sunday morning, the second coat on the hull was applied.


And voila, after cleaning and waxing the topsides, now I have an entirely treated hull that will get us across and back, without bringing half the ocean life we encounter with us.

Fresh water in the forest

It was nice, Sunday tourism. After using some more epoxy to fill the last of the remaining holes of the log, I went on a trip. I'd seen there was an aqueduct nearby and I always enjoy seeing these so I cycled over there. The thing about aqueducts is, of course, they are not just in one place. They tend to span wide stretches of countryside. The Vila Do Conde aqueduct is not particularly beautiful or architecturally special, but it was a bit of hide and seek, because some parts of it were so hard to find.

Aqueducts are a sign of determination on the part of the builders, because of their size and linearity. This makes them hard to protect from progress. Parts of this aqueduct have completely disappeared, such as in a field where the corn has prevailed over the monument. Next to that field, I took this photo, where the Aqueduct had been preserved and even lighted.



Other parts were destroyed for making a motorway and roads. What I particularly like with aqueducts, is when they become incorporated into the houses or walls. With this one, that isn't so much the case. Some parts have been made into a wall around a house or estate, but it doesn't run through a city, though some parts line the road. Mostly, the aqueduct stands apart from the houses, and some parts are so worn I wouldn't want them hovering over my house.



The Sunday was well spent, with some fish and chips - Portuguese version - in a quiet restaurant somewhere oddly placed in a neighborhood of very expensive looking houses. And at the end, I was invited for some drinks and a very good cognac on board Bernard and Jeanne's boat, before they left Monday morning. I took some pictures of them leaving port.

After that, I could begin the final episode of my work ashore, by scraping the hull. Luckily, I found some replacement blades for my scraper, which made the work advance so much more.


Quite bizarre was the fact that many people came by to chat a bit and comment on the work. I think everyone sympathizes when hard work is being done. Nobody likes scraping very much, least of all me. But it should be finished near the end of the week, and I'm putting on antifouling during the weekend anyway, so whatever doesn't get done, too bad.

Work like dogs

The stern gland. The rudder stuffing box. The old log holes. The new log. The new depth sounder. The toilet through hull. The kitchen sink drain.

All make holes in the boat. They're not all the holes, mind you, I've never actually counted all of them, but there must be almost twenty. I'm filling five up and have created one new, enlarged one and am stuffing one more after having stuffed one today. It is absolutely amazing that we haven't sunk yet, and I sometimes dream about that. I used to think we were sinking after we bought the new anchor chain which made the bow drop several centimeters. I still sometimes fear one of the through hulls will fail, and there are so many of them.

No wonder I sometimes check on my three bilge pumps, to see if they're working properly.

But now the boat's on shore, and the risk of sinking is minimal. Quite fortunate, I must add, for there are very big holes in the bottom which still need filling, stuffing and a new through hull and seacock.

But the log and depth sounder work.

It's work. All that matters now is work.

I'm at the point when the work is actually starting to show a pace and a rhythm. I'm a big believer in the specific nature of work, that it requires us to feel its needs. Some work needs to be done instantly, but there is work that can only be done right after careful consideration.

One of the jobs I've always felt to be entirely autonomous is taking pictures. I don't mean the everyday pictures we all take, of people and places and situations. There are a kind of pictures which call for us to take them serious and they qualify as work. Photography is not really a hobby of mine, so I take pictures and sometimes they constitute work, as in, choosing the position and frame and timing and respecting these to create something.

So after my working day, I used the evening light and took some photos of dogs and their surroundings.

It wasn't exactly work, but it was fun. Who said work can't be fun?

The cheap life

After a day of organizing things and talking to people, Victor Too is now ashore in Póvoa de Varzim. This is a bit to the North of Porto and generally a nice place to stay. After a night at the waiting pontoon, we put my temporary home into a crane and on the land.



So now I've been doing the many chores which I've been putting off, scraping the antifouling, drilling holes for new senders, and getting the keel sand blasted. It's been a while since Victor Too was on shore and I hope to get the prop replaced with a folding one, for I have gotten tired of the sound of the prop turning while we sail.

So now the boat is a mess once again, for all the work tools have come out of hiding and certain inaccessible spaces had to be made available to put stuff in them, such as: holes!

This is the one for the log transducer. I re-used an old log site so I didn't have to make yet another hole in the hull. I just made the existing one bigger. Making a new one would have been easier, but the hull already has so many holes a Swiss cheese would feel quite inferior to it.

Yesterday I celebrated the sale - finally - of the bike and the termination of some more contracts I was bound to, such as insurance, insurance and even more insurance. I now only have two more insurance contracts going and it feels good to get away from some of the modern entanglements.

I need to get a replacement for the autopilot motor since it packed up while we were crossing Biscay. I already got someone on it but I dread to think what it'll cost. These Raymarine parts rarely come cheap.

But last night, I went out to eat and I found a local eating place which serves good quality Portuguese cooking which set me back a total of 5,5 Euros for food and half a litre of Vinho Verde. It's hard to think of a reason why I should go to the trouble of cooking, washing up, let alone get the ingredients for this type of food at these prices. Life can be cheap and it's about time, because getting here sure cost me enough. And that Romeo y Julieta cigar I savoured yesterday, was a well earned treat after a 1000 Mile trip South.

Trees and cathedrals

I got a chance to see the famed Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela. Ines and I went to see it on our last day in Vigo. So we took the train, a very nice and clean one, which took us there in just over 90 minutes.

Once we got to Santiago, we walked to the cathedral but there was a mass going on, so nobody could get in from the huge crowd already inside. So we went for lunch in a local bar and afterwards walked around some more until we could finally get in. The church is a very ornate Baroque style on the outside, but on the inside it's quite sober - apart from the huge gold altar ornaments, undoubtably a remains from the colonization.

I didn't feel any sort of catharsis, so perhaps I should walk there next time. I remember reeding the book "O caminho de Santiago" by Paulo Coelho and there wasn't a real catharsis at the end of that journey, either.

After getting back to Vigo, I took a picture of our boat tree Bao, which is short for baobab. Our tree got a shoot the day before we left, and now it's coming along nicely. I've had it for 5 months now and I was sure it had died, but baobabs are the most amazingly resilient trees.

It is my companion to care for while the trips lasts - and hopefully afterwards!

It's deep, over 4000 Metres. That's a lot of water!

We're in Spain. We are in Spain. It's 30 degrees outside and 34 inside, which is nice, and it's warm. We've been so cold getting here, both in France and crossing Biscay, but now all that's forgotten and it's warm.

Last blog post saw us in Brest, waiting for a weather window. We got that, and we left, first for Camaret to wait for the rain to pass. And it rained, it rained and it was cold and only Sven and Tony were brave enough to hop in the dinghy to get some fruit. By nightfall we got the fuel tank full on the diesel pontoon - at 1.33 Euro per litre, which is 10 cents more than the already elevated price in Brest. So much for gambling Camaret would be cheaper.

After we left, we got the promised North Westerly winds, but unfortunately it didn't quite get high enough to get us past Raz De Sein in one go, so we motor sailed once more until we passed the cape - another one. The good thing about the wind not being very strong was the wave action at Raz De Sein was not too bad. It's not a very pleasant place to be otherwise. Once we passed into the night, the wind turned West Southwest, instead of the Westerly winds we were promised. So we sailed South, confident that the forecast of North Westerly winds would make sure we got back on track. Our course was, after all, 214° for 354 Miles until Finisterre. After that, another 55 Miles saw us to Sanjenjo to wait out the storm anounced for Sunday evening.

After sailing South for 12 hours and getting 30 Miles off course, the navtex got a bit uncertain about the North Westerlies, especially in the area we were in (Iroise). So I decided to head back North West, to get more to the West where the wind would be more favourable. So we beat back to our track and just 5 Miles before getting to our track, the wind veered North just enough to start sailing South West again. In 24 hours, we gained just over 70 Miles. Now our speed was good as well as our heading. The only problem at that time was Sven who kept getting seasick. But after taking some drastic measures, that problem got sorted and and he remained free of sickness afterwards.

We were sailing fast and made good averages, reaching our half way point after 54 hours out of Camaret. After that, the wind started veering to the North and then North East. As it changed, it became much less, about Force 3. So after 66 hours of sailing, we had to switch on the engine for 12 hours. After that, the wind freshened and we sailed another 8 hours before rounding Finisterre, completing the crossing in 90 hours or just under 4 days.

We got into Sanjenjo late that night to be told that we couldn't stay as the marina was fully booked for an event with the Volvo Ocean boat Movistar. After some pleading ("We just crossed Biscay") we could stay until 10 a.m. so we went to the all night party to celebrate Ines' birthday - she was sick that day - and managed to get 3 hours sleep before the ferry arrived and we had to get off.

There were still no berths available and a force 7 or 8 was predicted later that day, so I decided to head for Vigo straight away. In the old Real Clube Nautico, it's nice to stay before leaving again, to Póvoa de Varzim in Portugal. There I'll repaint the antifouling and do some chores before Ingrid joins me later in August.

The Cape Route

Exactly a week after leaving Jersey, we finally made it to Brest. South Westerly winds, a Southerly storm force 9 and seaweed contrived to keep us from getting West. We spent three days near Tréguier waiting for the weather to improve, playing Colonists of Catan and visiting the bar on shore for ice cream. It's called Pesked and is very picturesque and they have good mussels. The oysters, however, may have had something in them as all of us got sick two days after eating them.



Once we got going, the North Westerly the forecast promised turned out to be rather Westerly, so no good progress was made and lots of diesel used. After the tide turned in favor for us, the waves got even higher so we made a short stop to sleep somewhere near Morlaix. After the wind and tide turned again, we left to make for Ouessant.

The wind was North Westerly at last, but it didn't last. After two hours, we were beating into a Westerly again and the engine stayed on for the next 12 hours. We had just rounded Portsall on the outer tip of Brittany, when a big field of sea weed got pulled into the propellor and stalled the engine. Just prior to it dying, I got it out of gear and now we were stuck with a prop full of weed and neither forward or reverse made it come free. So we stopped the engine.

Now we were drifting slowly towards the rocky passage of the Chenal Du Four, with hardly a Force 2 South Westerly and no engine. But as we tried gaining speed, the prop started turning along. So we tried starting the engine and it worked, but only forward. So we made for Camaret at slow speed. By 6 a.m. I tied to a buoy in the bay of Camaret and later, dove to free the prop from a thick layer of weed.

Later that day, I sailed the boat with two sick crew and a rather bad lack of sleep to Brest, where we moored next to the visitors pontoon at 5 p.m.

We were in Brest, and ready for the first big crossing.

South, always South.

It's been a roller coaster ride up till now. Our departure was delayed due to bad weather, but on Monday evening we finally left.



Lots of family and some friends made it to wave us goodbye, for which my thanks!

We set off with 6 crew, Troy and Helen from China, Ines and Tony from Belgium and Ingrid and me, obviously. Our first evening and night was uneventful, we sailed and motored and soon we were past Calais and getting some distance between us and the traffic system. Helen, unfortunately, was never without sea sickness. She managed to get some sleep in between of her exhausting dizziness, but could hardly eat or drink. After a rough night on the third day, on which we stopped over at Omonville-la-Rogue, just past Cherbourg, a decision was made.

Troy and Helen would get off the boat at St. Helier, on Jersey. This would put me two crew short for the Biscay crossing. Since this was already the 8th of July, it would be difficult to find new crew for the next part. So once we made it to St. Helier, I got busy with internet connections, e-mail and contacts I made earlier while looking for crew.

After a nice day at St. Helier, we left the following morning - or so we thought. Upon starting the engine, nothing happened. This was a first, and with only 30 minutes before the tidal gate shut, a tough decision was made to get a mechanic in order to make it for the next tide.

An hour later, a robust man showed up, said hi and jumped into the engine room. After a minute or so, he said to start the engine, got into the other side and said start her now. And at the first turn of the switch, she started! It turned out a wire had come loose from the starter motor. 10 Euros later, we were a happy crew again and the rest of the morning was spent in laziness.

Getting to St. Malo in Brittany was easy enough, although now we had to make the approach in the dark, as we couldn't start in Jersey until 4 p.m. But with the help of our trusted chart plotter, we got in alright and at 4 a.m. the next morning, tied on to the last available berth. We got around the Cherbourg promontory alright, although with 2 crew members less than planned.

Day One: crew arrival

It's still a big mess to sort out, but we're getting closer. Six people loaded 360 bottles of mineral water onto a 36 foot yacht. There are some nice mathematical remarks to be made about that. There is now some less space on the boat, especially in the lazarette. But that was always too big and easy to lose stuff in. A lot of the stuff that resided in it, is now sitting in the cockpit, so a nice challenge there to get rid of it all - or at least a lot of it.

And we still have some more equipment coming today, sails and a generator and diving gear. But everything will fit in there at some time so today I'll do some sorting out of all that's not where it should be.

Also today, two people of our departing crew are arriving. They will be staying until Portugal, so it's nice to meet Helen and Troy face to face at last. The other two crew we've already met, tomorrow everybody will be together and we'll see what happens.

Last week, I got all the odd ends sorted so the boat is ready to go and so am I. There still will be the usual pre-departure stowing and cleaning, but today, a good year has already begun!

Set it all up, then switch off.

It's been in planning a while, and a lot of things had to be organized for the solar panels to be mounted. I started with a simple radar and antenna pole which came with the boat.


I needed plenty of solar power so the pole had to go. Two large panels were to be sited at the aft of the boat. But the radar had to get in as well, plus the antennae, and I wanted a solution which didn't obstruct a wind vane and hold a dinghy in davits.

So I got a welder to draw me a design, and then I changed it because it became hugely expensive, and then I had to wait for hours for them to show up and actually work on it.
This is the basic shape, with a detail of the new wiring:

And after we mounted the panels, the radar, the antennas and the davits it sort of looked like this:



From the top, you can see the solar panel surface is quite huge:



Next up were three service batteries to replace the existing two. We now have 300 Ah in battery power and 270 Wp in solar power. I've got an emergency 1100 Watts back-up generator and the new alternator regulator, so it's hard to imagine us ever being out of power.

And we'll need it to power all our gizmos such as two portable PC's, satellite phone, instuments and lights, fridge and chart plotter. I've spent the day yesterday setting up the main navigation portable with maps and software. It'll take some tweaking and tuning to get it all up and running. I hope I can get away from it all once it's set up.

That'll be the real challenge of this trip: switching everything off every now and then and enjoy the places we visit.