Heating Up

07/31/02

    As of 1000, we are still running before a very light, variable wind that has been backing to the north, so we are considering jibing and going on a reach. 

    The heat of the sun is continuing to be intense.  The cockpit thermometer topped 100 degrees yesterday, though the cabin temperature was only 85.  We are considering putting up the bimini today.  With these light winds we don’t get enough breeze to get good ventilation in the cabin, and it can be quite uncomfortable in the cabin and the cockpit.  There is no refuge from the heat. 

    I am settling into my sleep pattern again.  It always takes a few days once we get out, to get used to only sleeping four hours at once.  I also have strange dreams to start, thinking that we are still at the place we left, or somehow have been able to stop by home on the way.

Wind is Back

07/30/02

    We started picking up a northeast wind this morning, so we took the awning down and raised the main, setting the preventer and the whisker pole up for a run.  We are thinking that this was not really the doldrums after all,  but rather just a lull in the trade winds, as we experienced our last day before hitting the Cape Verdes.  Later on today, Eric is going to fashion a bracket to reinforce the broken stanchion joint on the bow pulpit, to prevent further damage before we get it welded in Cape Town. 

A Doldrums Dip

 David and I returning from a Swim

07/29/02

    It looks like we may have hit the doldrums already!  We started off from Cape Verde with a nice 10-12 knot beam reach, and went like that through the day.  In the evening, the wind started  to die, and for my 2000-2200 watch, had less than 10 knots the whole time.  My next watch (0200-0400) was the same, with the wind shifting to south at the end, so we were close-hauled at that point.  Shortly after my watch ended I heard the engine starting from my slumber.  It is now 0800 and the sea is almost like glass.

    It seems like we are in the doldrums, alright.  Towards the end of my 0800-1100 watch, I noticed a faint outline of an island off to port.  I was curious about this, as I thought we had left the Cape Verdes behind, but on consulting Eric and the chart, I learned that the small volcanic island of Fogo is the southernmost island, and that it was still within view.  This is the island that Eric had trouble with on his last visit to Cape Verde.  They got caught in the lee of this island, which is nothing but a huge volcano, with no wind and a current pushing them towards the island.  They couldn’t start the diesel engine, and couldn’t drop the anchor because the water depth was 1000 feet right up to the rocks.  They ended up dropping the rigid dinghy over the side with the seagull attached (the tiny antique outboard) and used this to push the boat to safety.

    After lunch today, we decided we weren’t going to get any more wind, so we dropped the main and set up the awning, to provide some shade for the cockpit and cool the boat down some.  In the afternoon, we stopped the boat and had a “doldrums dip”.  We dropped the swim ladder and all jumped in and had a bath in the ocean.  You don’t realize the brilliance of the blue color of the water until you jump in and see it from eye level.  We took the opportunity to also lather up with dishwashing liquid and clean ourselves off real good.  Eric also put on his dive mask and checked out the hull where the whale had hit.  He said there was a little bottom paint scraped off, but that was all.  It’s interesting to swim in water that is 3 miles deep.

    We will be crossing the equator on the way to Fernando de Noronha, and in preparation for the special “pollywog” ceremony to celebrate David and my first equator crossing, Eric is saving green beer cans to use with his costume.  I will be interested in seeing what he has planned.

Mindelo, Cape Verde Islands

 The Harbor at Mindelo

07/27/02

    We came into Mindelo at about 0100 Friday morning.  We anchored off a beach that was next to the main harbor, as we didn’t want to try to negotiate the unfamiliar harbor in the dark.  We went to sleep, and next morning bright and early, got up and had pancakes for breakfast.  It was 0700 local time when we were having breakfast, and already the beach was busy with swimmers (or maybe bathers).

    We weighed anchor, with me stationed in the chain locker to make sure the chain falls in a proper pile, then we went around the corner to the main harbor of Mindelo, Porto Grande.  As we came in, we saw only a few sail boats anchored.  There was a large two-masted British boat that was lined with dive tanks, a French ketch named “Tamata”, another French boat named “Diogene”, a couple of dilapidated catamarans, and 6 sailboats all rafted together, the center two of which had no masts.

    We took a cruise around the harbor to check things out.  A little, scruffy, dreadlocked guy popped out of one of the sad catamarans and gave us a wave.  We moved back, and after we passed by, a couple on a dinghy came out and picked him up.  We went around and anchored in a spot near the British boat.

 Orlando in front of a local Landmark

    We (Eric) decided to deploy the inflatable, because of the long distance to shore.  As we were preparing the dinghy on deck, the shaggy gentleman we had seen earlier came up to our boat on his dinghy.  He introduced himself as “Orlando” and offered his services to help us find our way around, to clear in with the local authorities and customs, and make sure that nothing was stolen from our dinghy while we’re ashore.  We acceded to his offer, and  agreed to meet him at the dinghy dock.

    When we got to the dinghy dock, which was a battered wooden platform outstretched from a crumbling concrete platform, there was Orlando, surrounded by a swarm of small naked kids who were constantly present at the dock and surrounding beach.  He helped us tie up the dinghy and  get ashore, then he walked with us down to the local Harbor Authority to check in.

    I was amazed at the advanced state of decay that everything was in.  The sidewalks were all either crumbled concrete or sharp, irregular black stones.  When we went inside the office building where the harbor authority was, I couldn’t help but notice the total shabbiness of the surroundings.  The steps that we climbed were all chipped on the corners, with exposed pieces of wood.  I expected the whole place to collapse at any moment.

    Orlando took us up and presented us to the official, and Eric presented him with the ship’s papers and crew list.  He was charged a small fee, which he promised to come back and pay after he had exchanged dollars for Escudos.  We then took a walk down to  the customs officer, whose office was down on the  commercial docks.  Along the way, we saw a dog lying in the street that couldn’t possibly be alive, but people were walking around it as though it was always there.

    We got to the customs office, a small bare room on the dock front, and got our passports stamped, then we went to the Shell Oil office to see if we could arrange to get some diesel fuel.  The Shell Oil building was quite different from any other I saw in Mindelo.  It was clean and new, and actually had air conditioning inside!  Orlando took us in and  introduced Eric to the guy in charge.  They arranged to us to take the boat around to one of the commercial docks later that afternoon, and they would send a truck to pump the fuel.  This was a great relief, as we were expecting to have to run back and forth with jerry cans.  Since we needed 130 litres, and we only have two jerry cans, that would be about three trips, which would take all afternoon.

    From there, Orlando took us to the bank, where we exchanged some money, then he took us to the Post Office, where we got stamps and postcards.  At that time, we asked Orlando to show us a nice place for lunch.  He took us to a couple of places that looked very dingy, which we rejected, and finally he took us to a nicer place.  The lights weren’t on in the restaurant but there was enough light for us to eat.  We agreed to meet Orlando at 1400 for visiting the fuel dock, then he went on his way.  The restaurant was quite nice, but it was early and we were the only ones in the place.  After 15 minutes, another party came in, and at that time they turned on the lights and air conditioning.

    After lunch, we went back to the boat, and I feverishly wrote and addressed 15 post cards before it was time to raise anchor and go to the fuel dock.  When 1400 came, we raised the dinghy on deck,  weighed anchor and headed towards the fuel dock.  Orlando couldn’t be seen anywhere in the harbor, so we went without him.  I prepared three fenders to cast over once we got close to the dock.  As we approached the dock, which is built for large ships, we saw that there were large black rubber bumpers mounted diagonally along the face of the concrete dock.  Eric recommended that we rig one of the fender boards to lay across two of the fenders.  In  rigging the fender board, I forgot to lower the third fender over, which later turned out to have disastrous consequences.

    We approached the dock and tied up successfully, and I saw we were in danger of hitting forward of the fender board.  I went to lower the third fender, and as I was fiddling with that, did not notice that the bowsprit was bouncing perilously close to the wall.  I went to fend off, but it was too late, and the port side light crashed against the wall, breaking the wooden bracket in two.  Thankfully the light fixture itself was not damaged and it was still operating.  Eric became quite enraged with us for letting this happen, stressing that these parts are impossible to replace in such places as this, and we really need to make sure it doesn’t happen again.

   Once we tied up okay, Orlando showed up at the dock.  The fuel truck had not yet arrived, and Eric and Orlando decided to go pay the harbor fee while we were waiting.  Eric said we could not start fueling until he returned, as we needed to turn on a valve down below and watch while the tank fills.  He advised me to get a clamp from the toolbox in the engine room and see if I could temporarily repair the broken side light bracket.  Once I got the bracket back together, a few minutes later a small pickup truck arrived with a small pump trailer behind it.  I tried to explain that I couldn’t start pumping until the captain returned.

    The truck left the trailer there with an attendant, who proceeded to lift a cover on the dock under which was an opening to the fuel reservoir.  He hooked up the pump to the reservoir and then gave me the filler hose.  I opened the tank filler on the deck and put the hose in, but would not start pumping, much to the annoyance of the attendant, who didn’t want to waste too much time on a 130 litre (32 gallon) purchase.  Finally some other people came by who knew English and Portuguese, and were able to explain my obstinance.  At last, Eric and Orlando returned, and we completed the fueling.

    Our next step was to go back and anchor in the harbor, then go ashore and take showers at the Club Nautico, and afterwards make phone calls and visit the internet café.  The first part of our plan was thwarted when Orlando took us to the Club Nautico and learned that there were no showers available.

   Next, I attempted to call Sue on the phone.  I called the ATT number and attempted to use my credit card, but was informed that credit cards are not honored.  I borrowed Eric’s ATT number to leave a brief message, then went to the internet café.  At the internet café I saw that they sold phone cards, so I bought one for 250 Escudos (about $2.50), that was for 50 “units”.  I went and put the card in and it showed 50 units on the phone display.  When I called Sue, the units immediately started counting down.  I barely had a chance to say hello before I got a warning saying that the card is almost done, then it cut me off.  I went into the Post Office and bought a 150 unit card for $7.00 and tried again.  This time we had a bit better conversation, but were still cut off before we were ready.  I decided it would be cheaper to talk on the Iridium phone.

    Later on that night, we went in for dinner and one of Orlando’s friends, Manuel, took us to a local restaurant, the “Pica-Pau”, where a lot of yacht people go.  It was dark inside when we entered, as there were no other customers there.  The owner turned the lights on when we entered.  He was very friendly, and pointed to all the notes that had been written from other yachts, taped to the walls.  After we ordered, the waitress brought us an appetizer that was a plate of deep fried, head-on sardines with toothpicks in them.  I broke the head off of one and tasted it.  It was quite spicy, and I was happy to get a glass of the Portuguese wine to wash it down.

    After dinner, David took Eric back to the boat in the dinghy, while I stayed ashore and bought Orlando a beer at the Club Nautico.  David then came back on the dinghy and joined us there.  We talked with Orlando, whose English is not very good, and found out more about him.  He has lived on the island all his life, and has two or three daughters and a couple of grandchildren.  He has never married, but has been with three women throughout his life.  He says that people don’t really get married in Cape Verde.

    Orlando then took us to a restaurant/bar where there was live music taking place.  This was a very nice establishment (unlike other places we had seen so far), and all the other customers there seemed to be European.  Two guys with guitars set up in the corner, and an old man with a hat came and took out a violin.  They played some traditional music, and the old fiddle player was having a grand old time, doing little dances and accosting the non-appreciative waitress.  Orlando had a couple of beers with us there, then went back to the dinghy.  We stayed at the bar until 2200, then went back to the dinghy, as we didn’t feel safe being out too late in this town.

    When we went back to the dinghy dock, a French couple had just come in on their dinghy from their small yacht “Diogene”.  They were a very nice young couple named Raphael and Delphine.  They had been here for eight weeks, waiting for friends to join them from Europe on another boat.  They were going out to a music club somewhere, with Orlando tagging along.  It turns out that it was Raphael and Delphine’s dinghy that Orlando had borrowed that morning to come to our boat, as he doesn’t have a dinghy of his own.

    We went back to the boat and went to sleep.  The next morning we did some boat chores.  David and I got in the dinghy and went around the boat with a scouring pad and AJAX cleanser to take care of several black marks that had been left on the hull by various black rubber fenders we had encountered on the  trip.  At the same time Eric made a more permanent repair of the sidelight fixture.  We tightened up some shrouds on the starboard side.

    We had agreed the day before to meet Orlando at 1000 for him  to take us to the produce market.  When we got to the  dinghy dock we did not see Orlando, but some of his associates (Cesar and Manuel) were there.  There was also a guy named Manny, who we had met at the fuel dock the day before.  Manny had lived in Providence, Rhode Island for a while, and spoke very good English.  He offered to take us to the market, and we took him up on the offer.

    We first went to a small storefront fruit market, where we got a couple of things; grapes, oranges, and a melon.  Then we went to the main market, which was quite a sight.  When we walked through the entrance, there was some guy sitting on the floor holding the entrails of some animal in one hand and a pile of salt in the other hand that he was rubbing into it.  It was a most disgusting sight!  Once we got past this, it was a lot better.  We were able to find the fresh produce we needed; onions, tomatoes, garlic, apples, and the biggest lemons I have ever seen.  We then went to a butcher shop where we got some frozen chicken and fresh eggs.  We carried all this stuff back to the dinghy, while Manny went off to do something else.  Eric gave Manny a couple of dollars for his help.  He had also given Orlando 2000 Escudos ($20) the day before for his help over the two days.

    Eric and David took the produce back to the boat while I stayed ashore and talked with Orlando and Cesar.  They were quite upset that we went off with Manny, and warned me that Manny is untrustworthy, and only came back to Cape Verde from America because of trouble with the law.  There would be no other reason why someone would choose to return to Cape Verde.  I just nodded my head and listened.  Manny hadn’t done anything to indicate that he was trying to take advantage of us.

    When Eric and David came back from the boat, we got Orlando to take us to the supermarket for more shopping.  Orlando was not quite sober today.  Later we found he had been drinking all night with Raphael and Delphine.  We went to the supermarket and picked up some more stuff, and took a taxi back to the dinghy dock.  After we took the food back to the boat we went back in for lunch, going to a nice place we had passed on the way to the supermarket.  This restaurant turned out to be really nice.  The weather here was quite hot during the day, as the sun is directly overhead, and I quickly consumed the 1.5 litre bottle of cold Agua Minerale that I ordered.  I found during the day that I could not get enough to drink.

    The rest of the afternoon we spent at the internet café, then went to the boat to take showers.  Eric wasn’t interested in going back to shore, so he took David and I in the dinghy at 1800, and agreed to come back and pick us up at 2100.  We went back to the restaurant where we had seen the music the night before, and found they don’t start serving dinner until 1900, so we got beers and sat out on their terrace that overlooks the street from the second floor.  After a few minutes, two European women came out and sat at a table.  One of them asked me to take their picture.  We started talking to them.  They are from Spain, visiting the Cape Verdes on vacation.  They had been visiting the other islands, and Mindelo was their last stop before returning home.  They had seen some nice beach resorts, and they said the capital city, Praia, where Eric had stopped on his last visit to Cape Verde, was in much worse condition than Mindelo.  They described it as “awful, awful, awful, awful, awful”.  We gave them our web site address and took their picture.

    After dinner (we ate too early to hear the live music) we decided to stop at a bar across the street called “Le Café Musique”, for another beer.  Amazingly, this bar was really nice inside, more like what I would expect for a Manhattan bar than Mindelo.  We were the only people in the bar though, and we couldn’t stay more than thirty minutes as we had to get back to meet Eric at the dinghy dock.

    Going to and from the dinghy dock was always an ordeal, as Cesar, or some swarm of kids was always there asking for money.  We got in the dinghy with Eric, and we were all in agreement that we would be happy to leave Mindelo behind.  That night, there was a big music event going on at some rooftop bar on the waterfront.  We could hear the music playing until 5:00 AM!

    The next morning we got up and had pancakes, deflated the dinghy, and were weighing anchor at 0900.  As we were leaving, Orlando and another guy chased our boat in a Zodiac, making one more attempt to get more money from us.  Eric told  him to fuck off, and that is the last words we have had with Cape Verde.

    After leaving Mindelo, we sailed down the west side of Sao Vicente.  It was as barren a land as I have ever seen, nothing but rocky mountains, with no vegetation or any sign of life.  We may as well have been looking at a Mars landscape.  Finally we got to the southwest point of the island and there was a light house there.  I couldn’t figure out how that lighthouse could have been built, as there were no roads that led to it, and it would be impossible to get to it by sea.

The Lighthouse at the end of Sao Vicente

    Later on that day, I had finished my watch, and was taking a nap, feeling the waves rocking us to the side, when all of a sudden I felt and heard a “BONK”.  It was as if we had hit something.  Suddenly Eric cried from the cockpit “We just hit a whale!”.  I got up and rushed to the cockpit.  I could see a whale head coming to the surface about 100 feet off of port.  Eric said when he went into the cockpit after the BONK, he saw the stunned whale right next to the boat, trying to figure out what happened.  The whale was about 40 feet long, at least the size of the boat.  As we looked out, we could see a whole school of spouts and heads bobbing out of the water.  They were too far away to get a good picture, though, so you have to take my word for it.  I am hoping to see more wildlife, now that we are entering a less traveled area of the ocean.  As I looked out on the water today, several times I saw a hundred or more flying fish come out of the water at once, and take off flying together.

So Much for Trade Winds

07/25/02

    Well, so much for the trade winds.  Yesterday afternoon the wind started dropping.  First, we had the problem that the wind was shifting a little, and the waves were rolling the boat back and forth faster than the wind speed.  This resulted in a horrific pounding for the mainsail, which was making dreadful banging noises and taking quite a lot of punishment.  Eric says he suffers more sail damage when the wind is less than 10 knots than when the wind is blowing hard.  In fact, the motion of the mainsail was so intense that it broke the snap shackle right off the end of the boom vang!  We replaced the boom vang with a spare and replaced the shackle on the other one. 

    After all this, we decided to drop the main altogether and just run with the jib and the staysail.  This arrangement worked well for a while, until the wind died altogether, and Eric decided to furl the jib and start the engine.  This morning, the wind picked up again, and we raised the main.  Unfortunately, two hours later the wind has died again, and we are once again motoring with 60 miles to go to Porto Grande.  At this rate we will be arriving about 10 at night, and will anchor in the outer harbor and go in Friday morning.

    The remnant waves from the past three days of wind in combination with the lack of wind yesterday afternoon made for some challenging boat motion.  Somehow I have avoided any bouts with queasiness on this leg (I hope that means I’m getting used to it!), but have been experiencing headaches the last couple of days.

    Even though we are in the tropics, the weather has seemed untropical so far.  The sky has been covered with a gray haze, and we haven’t seen much of the sun until now.  Also the temperature has been quite moderate.  This has been helped by the fact that we have had the breeze blowing directly into our companionway all this time.

Flying Fish Attack!!

 Flying Fish on Deck in the Morning

07/24/02

    The wind has been holding its direction.  I believe we are in the midst of the Northeast Trade Winds, so called because they blow from a predictable direction, and commercial sailing ships used that fact to their advantage.  We did have to roll the jib in and out a couple of times yesterday, as the wind speed would increase over 20 knots for a time, then moderate again. 

    David was hit by a flying fish while standing in the cockpit.  This is the second time in as many nights that he has been the target of these odd creatures.  At this point, we are looking at arriving at Porto Grande in Mindelo late tomorrow, and may have to wait until morning before we can go in and anchor in the harbor.

This ain't no Pequod

 Sailing Wing and Wing with Victor Steering

07/23/02

    Yesterday was a remarkably uneventful day.  The day ended with the same wind conditions that began it, and between the two there were no changes to be found.  The motion of the boat has seemed to become gentler.  As I write this, I am being rocked slowly from 15 degrees to 15 degrees.  It is much more pleasant to be rocked to sleep than to be pounded, as was my experience on the previous leg.  I have been reading Moby Dick during the day, and during this time the style which I use in the writing of this log may seem a bit different, so as to emulate the profound style of the poetic Mr. Melville.  It is quite a good book, filled as it is with numerous ruminations on the seafaring life in general and whaling in particular.  The omnipresent thought in my head as I read about sailing life in the nineteenth century is that I have it very good on my voyage.  The sailing men of those years regularly performed duties that would render me paralyzed with terror, such as climbing to the masthead and standing on a platform so small that Melville compared it to “standing on a ram’s horns”.  This was done in two hour shifts to keep a lookout for whales.  This is nothing compared to the risks involved in manning the whale boat, leaving the mother ship to row after the whales, sometimes in gales and high seas.

    Later today we will have passed 4000 miles total that we have traveled since leaving Patchogue.  This is but one sixth of the total trip.  I am still not able to fathom what the trip after Cape Town will be like.  Eric often mentions when we are doing work on deck, “Think of doing this when the water temperature is 32”.  He also says we can be reasonably sure that there will be times when we will experience 30 foot swells with accompanying high winds.  We will for the most part be running with these winds and seas.  We will prepare in Cape Town by replacing the main and jib with smaller storm sails.  Another thing Eric is considering is to remove the staysail  boom and instead use a small whisker pole to hold out the staysail so we can run wing-and-wing with the staysail and the jib alone.  We did an experiment the other day with rigging the main preventer on the end of the staysail boom, but we couldn’t get enough leverage to hold it out properly.

Bobbing Like a Cork

07/22/02

    Before happy hour yesterday, we raised the main with a double reef and set the preventer for wing-and-wing.  We left the staysail up, but sheeted it flat amidships to provide stability.  We are still bobbing like a cork, as the surrounding swells are sizable, and hitting us from behind, rocking the boat back and forth.  If you watch the inclinometer, you will see it alternate from 15 degrees on one side to 20 degrees on the other side, back to 20 degrees on the  first side,  on and on. 

    This is quite different from the movement we experience when close-hauled.  When we’re on a tack, either port or starboard tack, the angle of heel is at least consistent one way or another, so if you set something down you have a good idea which direction it will roll.  When running, you don’t know from one second to the next which heel you’re on, so you’re constantly balancing things.  I suppose it is good for my muscle tone, as my body is constantly fighting gravity, even as I sit here writing.

    We are making good time, though.  As of this morning, I reported to Sue on the Iridium that we are 451 miles from our destination, and are right on the Tropic of Cancer.  It seems a little cool for being in the tropics, but I won’t complain.  The water temperature is around 62 degrees but we are seeing a lot more flying fish.

    We had movie night last night, with a showing of “High Noon”, a classic western which was targeted by the  movie “Blazing Saddles”.

A Tricky Maneuver with the Halyard

07/21/02

    We were on a nice run all night, but then this morning the wind speed was up to 20 knots from behind, and was beginning to overpower the boat.  Eric decided to take the main down, and set the staysail instead. 

    This was a bit tricky, as the waves had become pretty big, and though they didn’t seem so bad when they were coming on our stern, when we turned to face the wind to drop the main, their presence was indeed felt.  We had a  little glitch while rigging the staysail halyard.  The whisker pole had already been rigged for the jib, and was poking out perpendicular to the boat from the mast about eight feet above the deck.  When we unfastened the staysail halyard shackle from it’s home on the shroud, we realized that the halyard had to pass over the whisker pole and topping lift before we could attach it to the sail. 

    We attached a short line to the halyard shackle, and David had to climb up the ratlines (wooden ladder that goes up the shrouds) and pass it over to me.  This was quite a daring maneuver, with the boat  continuing to roll madly from the waves.  We managed to get the halyard safely passed over, and raised the staysail after two attempts.  In  the first attempt I got the wire bunched up in the winch and couldn’t hoist it all the way up, much to Eric’s perturbation.

    Of course, now that we have done all this, the wind has once again moderated.

Eric gets out the Sledge Hammer

07/20/02

    We stopped the engine at 0935, and are hobbling along on a reach with light winds.  We are currently 704 miles from our waypoint at St. Vincent.

    As of 1900, we have once again started the motor.  Earlier today, the wind swung around behind us, and we set the boom preventer and whisker pole for a run.  We also had to reset the lower batten, as it had come loose from it’s socket on the luff of the sail and had worn a hole in the sail.  Later on in the afternoon, the boom vang pulled the car off the track, bending the end of the track.  Eric fixed this with a small sledge hammer and steel block that he keeps for this purpose. 

    Eric spent some time looking through a book on cruising routes, to determine the best way to cross the doldrums between here and Fernando de Noronha, then how best to make the passage from there to Cape Town.

Santa Cruz de Tenerife, Canary Islands

 FIONA Docked at Marina Atlantico

07/19/02

    I am finally getting to update the log again after departing from Tenerife.  I am so happy to be able to leave the boat and walk around that I don’t want to spend time on the boat writing.  I figure I’ll have plenty of time to do this when I’m underway.  As I sit here, I feel a very painful blister on the bottom of my right foot, acquired from constantly walking during the last three days. 

    Our landfall at Santa Cruz was quite spectacular, as we had rounded the NorthEast corner of the island at dawn.  I had the 0600-0800 watch, so I was on duty when we made the approach. 

    When I awoke for the watch, we were in the middle of a wind acceleration zone, a spot near the point of the island where the wind speeds are amplified.  It was blowing 20-25 knots and the seas were pretty big.  Luckily we had dropped the main the night before, and were motoring because the wind had died.  As soon as I started my watch the wind died again, and the waves flattened out as we moved into the protection of the island. 

    The northern part of the island was lined with steep, irregular mountains with scrubby vegetation, not very hospitable looking.  As we proceeded further south, Santa Cruz came more into view.  It was quite a big city, with many high-rise buildings.  There were a few small fishing boats running around and some freight ships that did not appear to be going anywhere. 

    Suddenly, out of nowhere, this hydrofoil ferry came out of the harbor and crossed our bow at a high rate of speed.  The hydrofoil has special attachments on the hull that allow the ship to lift out of the water, enabling it to go very fast.  Then, coming from east, the direction of Tenerife’s neighbor island, Gran Canaria, came another high speed ferry.  This was a very modern boat, a catamaran that is about the size of the Port Jefferson ferry, and also traveling quite fast. 

    We finally worked our way down to the entrance to the southern harbor, Darsena de los Llanos.  At the north end of this harbor is a well protected marina, Marina Atlantico, where there were 20-30 boats, and many slips were empty.  A little more than half of these boats were power boats, including some Sea Rays, which I was surprised to see.  We did not see a marina attendant, so we pulled into the slip at the end of the dock. 

    Eric went to check in with the authorities while David and I hooked up the hose and gave FIONA a much needed fresh water bath.  The pounding we had taken from waves over the last week had left a thick layer of salt over the entire boat.  Once this was done, Eric and I set out to find the chandlery and David set out to explore on his own.  I picked up a pamphlet for the chandlery at the marina office that included a city map showing the location, and another pamphlet showing an internet café.  I called Sue to let her know I was safe on land.  As we walked through the parking lot next to the marina office, I noticed a stage being set up with tables and food booths all around.  I did not think anything of it, since we had seen a similar setup in Horta. 

    We found the  chandlery, stopping for lunch along the way.  Santa Cruz was a very modern city.  At the chandlery, Eric purchased more line for the Aries, and spare jib sheets.  We then had them give us directions to an electronics supply shop, where Eric went to get a replacement capacitor for the broken SSB radio.  He was to spend considerable time over the next days trying to fix it, to no avail.  We finally bought a portable SONY shortwave radio so we could listen to BBC broadcasts.  No more talking to Trudi, or receiving weather faxes. 

    For the afternoon I explored the town and sent out an e-mail update for my trip.  That night we looked for a restaurant and settled on an Italian place.  I had veal marsala, which was strangely served with French Fries.  After dinner we went back to the marina to see what was happening with the festival that was being set up.  There was quite a crowd of people there, and we noticed a large crowd gathered at the south end of the commercial harbor, which is directly to the north of our harbor.  I went to look, and there were all sorts of boats, ranging in size from jet ski to 80-foot fishing boats, all festooned with flags and palm fronds, zooming precariously about the harbor.  It was quite a sight. 

    I went over to the festival for a while and checked it out.  The food being sold was either grilled or fried sardines or chicken brochettes.  The stage had been occupied by a choral group of about 30 people, led by a Spanish guitar player in the center.  They broke into song, singing something that seemed religious, but it being in Spanish, I could only guess.  I decided to walk back over to the commercial harbor.  There was a footbridge that went out to a large concrete platform in the middle of the harbor.  I decided to walk out there and join the crowd.  When I got to the end, I noticed all the boats that had been careening around the harbor were now all corralled up at the north end.  Some of them were shooting flares. 

 Boats Racing around the Harbor 

    Suddenly fireworks started from the breakwater on the east of the harbor.  The impressive quality of these fireworks were not the visual aspect, as it was not quite dark yet.  The echoes from the explosions are something I shall not soon forget.  As I said earlier, the island is composed of a number of irregularly shaped volcanic mountains.  The sound of the explosion would echo from each of these mountains, and the resulting sound would be almost as loud as the original report, with a slightly different tone.  Thus each explosion was its own bass drum flourish, with the beats coming from different directions.

    Once the fireworks were over, all the boats were let loose once again and came flooding into the harbor.  As it turns out, the central boat in all this was a large commercial boat loaded with people.  On this boat was riding a statue of the patron saint of the fishermen.  It is a tradition on every July 16 the statue is taken from the local church, put on a boat and taken out to sea, and this festival is to celebrate her homecoming.  David and I didn’t know this at the time.  We just noticed that this statue appeared, coming from the harbor, followed by a marching band playing a somber drum roll.  We decided to join the procession and see where it went.  They went across the highway and stopped in the plaza in the city.  At that time we were treated to a second, much more spectacular fireworks show.  After this was over, we followed the procession again to the church.  Along the way I spotted a pub named “J. C. Murphy’s”, which I pointed out to David.  Once the statue was back in the church, the priests had a short ceremony, and it was all over.  David and I went to Murphy’s and had a Guinness, and I called Sue again. 

The Procession

    The rest of the time in Tenerife I spent walking around town, shopping, and exploring.  The town generally shuts down in the afternoon, with most of the shops closing from 1300 to 1600 or 1700 for siesta. 

    Before we knew it, it was time to hit the sea again.  We left after lunch on Friday, and spent the morning cleaning up everything, folding up the awning that we had set up to protect the boat form the sun’s rays, and disconnecting the power. 

    We met a nice couple from England, Ken and Jo, who were on their boat, AMIKECO.  They were in their seventies, and had been cruising on their homemade Tahiti ketch since he retired from the police at the age of 47.  They had attempted to cross to the Caribbean a month or two earlier, but shortly into the trip, Jo developed Glaucoma and lost sight in one eye.  She is now working with a specialist in the UK to prevent losing sight in the other eye.

    Our departure from Marina Atlantico went very smoothly.  From there, we first went north to the Darsena Pescada (Fisherman’s Harbor) to get diesel.  We picked up 100 liters of fuel and departed.  This time, I did everything right when I raised the main!  Unfortunately, there has as of yet been no wind to drive us.  We have motored most of the way and are now south, well out of sight of land.  We are feeling a breeze coming up from behind, and are preparing to try again.

Getting Close to Tenerife

07/15/02

    We have less than 100 miles to go to Tenerife.  The winds died off for a while last night, but later on picked up again.  Now we are making 6.2 knots with the wind blowing a steady 12-15 knots, sometimes going up to 18-20.  At this point, we should hopefully be arriving in Santa Cruz early tomorrow morning.

    I called Sue on the Iridium this morning.  We still have 390 minutes of time left on the card.

The Misery Continues

07/14/02

    The misery continues.

    The body slams have continued throughout yesterday and are continuing as I write this at 1130, with no sign of letting up. 

    A few other things happened yesterday.  First, Eric was hardening up the jib sheet when a piece broke off the winch.  The piece that broke off was a spacer between the tailing jaws of the winch, with a little tab that keeps the sheet from getting wrapped under when it goes around in the jaws.  We studied this for a while, and determined there is no way to practically fix it.  Finally Eric decided we could just put the tab in there and it would serve the purpose.  This did not work, as the large diameter jib sheet spread the jaws too wide and the tab came out of alignment.  He decided to change the jib sheets with ones of smaller diameter.  This was a bit complicated, as it entailed going into wind, unwinding the jib, and David going forward, untying the loose sheet, and connecting the new sheet.  We then ran the new sheet through, took the load on that, and did the same for the port sheet.  David had to climb on the ratlines to reach the jib, and it was a bit harrowing in the heaving seas.  After all this, the winch experienced the same problem with the thinner line, and we decided just to use the winch as a non-self-tailer for now, until we could fix it in port.

    Later on in the afternoon we had another crisis.  One of Victor’s steering lines broke and he wasn’t able to steer any more.  Eric had a replacement line, and we proceeded to the stern to dismantle the steering device while David hand steered.  It was a frustrating task that required Eric to hang over the stern rail, taking off pieces and handing to me to secure on deck.  He finally had the unit folded up, removed the pieces of the old steering line and ran the new steering line through, putting a figure eight knot in the end and reinforcing the end with electrical tape.  Soon, Victor was reassembled and once again performing his essential duty.

    That night, I was not able to eat my dinner, as I had another attack of nausea while I started to eat my Spam and beans.  I went on deck to get some air and drink my ginger ale.  This time I felt particularly green, greener than my last episode, even though I did not actually throw up this time.  I lay down for another hour before my watch began (more body slams and drips.  Oh Boy!!), and felt a little better, but not much.  I still had that sour taste in the back of my mouth and a mild headache.  I brushed my teeth, and took several small sips of water, and that helped somewhat.  I was getting used to the body slams, and slept a bit better.

    After lunch today we had yet another crisis.  Victor’s other steering line broke.  This time I did the hand steering while David helped out at the stern.  Hand steering on a reach for just a few minutes really allowed me to appreciate the job that Victor does.  We are still careening along at over 6 knots with double-reefed main and double-reefed jib.  187 miles to go to our waypoint in Tenerife.

    It is now evening, the start of my 2000 watch.  The winds have died, and the seas are subsiding.  We have shaken the reefs out, and are hoping something will happen.  We are making 3.2 knots with 151 miles to go, which is a little over 48 hours.  I will see what happens on my watch.  If the seas subside and the wind is still dead, we will start the engine.  If the wind picks up, we will sail. 

    I am constantly thinking about what’s going to happen after Cape Town.  There are reasons for me to continue and reasons for me to bail out.  On the list of reasons to continue are the fact that I have made a public commitment to do this, also the fact that this is an opportunity that is guaranteed not to ever come again, and when I make it through, whatever suffering I endure will all be in the past anyway.  For reasons to bail out, I am realizing that 11 months is a long time to be away from my home, and I seriously miss being in Long Island with Sue and the cats.  To think of eight additional months of this after Cape Town is a daunting thought.  Also, there are guaranteed to be tremendous hardships on the Southern Ocean leg, much more than what I have experienced so far.  Will I be able to handle them physically and mentally?  These are questions I must answer, quickly.

The Chinese Water Torture Begins

07/13/02

    Last night was the most miserable night I have spent on this trip, and one of the most miserable of my life.  The weather wasn’t worse than  any other weather we have had.  The winds were 18-20 knots and we were sailing close-hauled.  The wave direction and the heel angle combined to make for a very punishing ride.  When I attempted to go to sleep, I was faced with a heaving bunk on the high side of the boat.  As I lay down, my face was smashed into the lee cloth.  Every time we crashed over a wave, which was several times a minute, it was as though an invisible hand took the back of my head and ground my face harder into  the lee cloth.  Turning the other direction did not help either, as then my entire body was resting precariously in the lee cloth, the gravity was too strong for me to stay in my bunk. 

    And then the drip started. 

    It was not a steady drip, maybe one or two a minute that fell from under the portlight onto the back of my leg, but for an insanely uncomfortable person trying to sleep it was like Chinese water torture.  I took one of my precious pillows and put it over my legs so not to feel the drip.  Soon it was time to begin my watch anyway.

    The situation on watch was not much better, as it was a major effort just to sit at the table, and a real chore to climb up the companionway and look around,  I had to be careful to time my look so I did not get a face full of spray.

    When watch was over, I went back to my bunk, and wiped up the water that had dripped on the foot.  I then struggled into my bunk.  It was literally an uphill battle just to climb in.  I would get in the bunk, stand with my feet on the compression post in the middle of the cabin, fasten the lee cloth, then roll my legs into the bunk. 

    It was then I found that my best pillow, on which I had been resting my head, was completely soaked.  I gave it to David to store over the pilot berth, and mopped up the remaining water.  I was now faced with leaks from both ends.  I took my third pillow, the only one that is still dry, and curled into a fetal position in my bunk,  so that I was clear of both leaks.  Of course, all this time the boat was still heaving over the waves, mushing my body into the lee cloth.  Occasionally we would encounter a bigger wave than average, which would give me a particularly lively body slam.  I managed to get a little sleep somehow. 

    The next morning, at the end of my 0400-0600 watch, I decided to take a Stugeron.  It seemed to help me sleep a little, but did not really make me feel any less queasy.

    Later in the morning Eric decided to reef the sail, as the winds showed no sign of abating from 18-20 knots.  This helped the motion of the boat, but not much.  It was the steep waves that were really killing us.  As of now I am going to try to rest a little more before my watch starts at 1400, but I don’t expect to be too successful.  On a positive note, if we keep up this pace we will be in Tenerife Monday afternoon.

Another Second Thought..

07/12/02

    The wind picked up overnight, and we are once again sailing.  My headache has abated, but I am a little queasy still.  We are sailing close-hauled on port tack, which is not so comfortable for me to sleep, and the boat is bouncing a bit.  I am continuing to evaluate my decision to stay on for the Southern Ocean leg.  It is a scary thing to think about, and a tremendous time investment.  It is  guaranteed to be a difficult journey, but it is an opportunity that will never present itself again.

Back on the Ocean

07/11/02

    The wind has once again fizzled out, and we are finding ourselves motoring again.  We tried to hold out as long as possible, but the little wind that was left started pushing us to the south, 40 degrees off course, so we just turned on the engine.  We saw another sailboat this afternoon, going the other direction.  Other than that it has been pretty uneventful.  This morning we replaced the reef point lines that hold the bunched up sail when it is reefed.  The previous lines were too heavy, and the bowline loops we tied in the ends kept working loose so that the loop disappeared.  I tied loops in all the new lines first so we could make sure they are good and tight, then we just needed to take out the old line, thread the new ones in, and tie figure eight knots on the other side.  This went pretty smoothly.

    I’ve been feeling a bit queasy today, and have had a headache all last night and today.  I have been taking Tylenol, and it seems to be better.  In Horta, I bought some Stugeron on the advice of Max Fletcher’s wife (Lynnie Bruce).  This is a very effective seasickness medication that is not available in the US.  One good thing about it is that you can take it after you start to feel sick, and as long as you can keep it down it will relieve the symptoms.  I haven’t taken any yet.  I am waiting for worse weather.  Unfortunately the directions are all in Portuguese so I have to guess at the dosage.

    Eric finished a rum bottle today, and I wrote a note to place in it to throw overboard.  I gave my address in the note, so we’ll see if anything ever comes.

Horta

 FIONA Rafted up the the Marina in Horta

07/09/02

    I have been delinquent in updating the log since we arrived in Horta.  It has been such a pleasure to be tied up at a dock, however precarious it was, and be able to come and go as I please.  We arrived about 1730 in the harbor.  TUAQ had contacted the harbormaster, who came out to meet us in his launch and took the tow rope from us. 

    When we arrived at the marina reception, there were ten or fifteen boats tied up along the concrete dock, waiting.  Eric went to find the customs office to clear in and find out where they wanted us to dock.  David and I stayed with the boat.  This was a massive marina, with a few hundred boats present.  The marina was surrounded with a concrete dock and seawall what was about 10 yards wide.  On the interior were a number of floating docks with fingers.  Boats were tied up along the concrete docks, rafted up to three abreast.  Every square inch of the concrete was covered with brilliantly painted signs from yachts that had passed through.  No doubt that one of the tasks during this stay would be to repaint the FIONA sign that had certainly disappeared since the last time Eric was here in 1986. 

    We were sent to raft up next to a boat occupied by two Frenchmen and a woman from Canada.  It took quite a bit of getting used to the maneuvering required to get on and off the French boat onto the dock.  They advised us that we were not to wear shoes while crossing the boat, so I kept my shoes on the dock.  At low tide, it was a good eight foot climb up the wall on a rusted steel ladder, hanging onto a tire at the top situated around a giant cleat.  The first few times I did it I was a little nervous, but I got better.  David and I went to take a shower.  We were informed by the attendant that it would cost 1.50 Euros for the shower (for that they provide soap and a towel), and they were closing in five minutes!!  We rushed back to the boat to get money, and came back in time to have our first real shower in almost a month.

    After that, David and I went to see if we could spot Juanona, as we still had their jerry cans to return.  We spotted them rafted a few rows away from us, then took a little walk, where we saw a sign for an internet café, which was a couple of blocks away.  We went to check that out, and I sent an e-mail to Sue informing her of my safe arrival.  We went back to the boat, but Eric was not there, so we decided to look for him at the Peter Café Sport, where we had talked about going.  David and I went in and had a beer and looked around.  It was quite crowded and there was no place to sit.  We didn’t see a sign of Eric. 

    After the beer, we went out to make phone calls.  I called Sue at home and her cousin Jeff from Arizona answered.  He and Natalie were visiting for the Fourth of July.  She sounded teary as we spoke.  I agreed to call again the next day at 2200, which is 1800 her time.  At that time Eric showed up and we went to Peter’s for dinner.  We had the grilled swordfish, which was cooked with garlic and lots of olive oil.  It was quite delicious.  Eric then went back to the boat and David and I wandered around a little, then stopped at the marina bar for a couple of beers.

    The next day we got started early.  We got all our laundry together, and I was put in charge of getting that done.  Eric and David set to work on the boat’s long to-do list.  We launched the dinghy and Eric went to the bow and disconnected the bobstay chain at the waterline, then we disconnected it at the top and measured it.  The total amount of chain we needed was 104”.  We also took the roller furler apart and saw that the extrusion was broken off in the drum, so we would need to get a new lower extrusion piece.  Eric went to Mid Atlantic Yacht Services, and found they didn’t have any chain available.  Also, to get parts for the Pro-Furl would be at least a week.  If we wanted to get out on schedule we would need to come up with alternatives.  For the bobstay chain, we would be able to cut a section from Eric’s spare anchor chain, which is 7/16” galvanized, bigger than the chain we are replacing.  For the broken extrusion, Eric used the Dremel tool to cut off the bottom part of the extrusion that was broken, and fit new bearings (which he had spares for) by tapping new screw holes in the bottom.  Our next worry is that the remaining extrusion is long enough to accommodate the jib. 

    The Dremel tool is an amazing thing.  Eric uses these little grinding wheel attachments to cut everything, from the heavy aluminum extrusion to the 7/16” chain links. 

    The entire day Friday was spent doing boat chores.

    During the day on Friday, our friends that we had met in Flores (Cegonha of Falmouth) arrived, and we met them for drinks at the Marina Bar later that afternoon. 

    After dinner, David and I went wandering around, and while I was on the phone with Sue, David found a local festival, which he came back and directed me to.  By the time I got there the music had stopped, but the food stands were still open, and I got a donut and a bottle of peach nectar.  Peach is a very popular flavor here.

Peter Café Sport, the Local Yachtie Bar

    On Saturday we spent the morning doing more boat chores.  We had to send Eric up the mast to check the top of the extrusion, then replace the topping lift line.  We went to Peter Café Sport for lunch, and to see the scrimshaw museum upstairs.  The service was terrible.  Afterwards, Eric complained to the waiter about the poor service, and it turned out the waiter was Peter, the owner of the bar!  The scrimshaw exhibit was quite impressive, though Eric remembered seeing more things  he last time he was here in 1986. 

    Saturday afternoon I wandered around the town on my own.  I found a small market where I was able to  buy a Horta t-shirt for 2 Euros, and also verified that they had the Porto Branco (white Port) that Eric had been looking for, at 5.50 Euros a bottle.  I then walked to the other side of  town where there was a beach in a harbor that was formed by an old volcanic crater. 

The Town of Horta from up on the Mountain

    On Sunday we went to the market to get the Porto Branco, then took a taxi on a tour of the island.  We went to see Caldeira, the giant dormant volcano in the middle of the island, and viewed the massive crater.  Then we drove along the south coast of the island to Capelo on the west coast.  All along the trip, we saw houses that were in ruins from the earthquake in 1998, and much new construction.  At Capelo, there is a museum that details the great volcanic eruption that took place from 1957 to 1958.  During this event, a new peninsula was added to the island.  We drove out to see the old lighthouse, which was on the  water at the time of the eruption, and now looks like it is in the middle of the desert.  From there, we had to rush back to be at the marina by four, as that was the planned departure time of the French boat which was rafted between us and the dock.  It was nice when the French boat left, as we were then right next to the dock and could wear shoes whenever we wanted. 

    Later on, we met another boat from Flores, John and Ann on Faustina II out of Ireland, and had dinner with them that  night. 

    Monday morning we went grocery shopping.  The local supermarket was pretty well stocked, though there were some things we couldn’t find, such as canned soup, canned meats (spam and corned beef) and yeast.  We bought 352 Euros worth of food, and got a taxi to take it all back to the marina.  When we got back we had two new boats rafted up next to us. 

    In the afternoon I walked around the town again, and went into some of the shops.  There was not much in the way of shopping in Horta.  Eric and I also spent over an hour in the Post Office, waiting on line to get stamps.  They had a take-a-number system.  There were twenty five people ahead of us, and only two clerks working – very slowly.  We had dinner at a local Pizzeria that night.  The Pizza was very salty, and Eric would talk about that for months. 

    The next morning (July 9) was time to depart.  We backed out of the raft-up, leaving our two neighbors behind.  Before we left, Max Fletcher (Juanona) came to take a picture of us.  Max had given us a copy of an article he had written for SAIL magazine about his trip around Cape Horn on a Westsail 32 (“CHRISTOPHER ROBIN”).  As we departed, the crew of Cegonha came out to bid us farewell, and wave a can of yeast that they wanted to give us. 

FIONA's Signature on the Concrete Jetty

    Our next stop was the fuel dock, where we were directed to raft up next to a huge wooden Danish boat.  We didn’t realize they had a yardarm rigged, which is a spar that is hung high in the rigging and sticks out perpendicular to the boat.  The yardarm got crossed in our rigging, and before we knew it, had disconnected the running backstay, breaking the light line that we had used to secure it amidships.  Luckily no damage was done to the permanent rigging.  David was sent off to Cegonha to fetch the yeast while Eric and I began the fueling process.  I dug out the jerry cans from the bottom of the sail locker.  After our previous experience with diesel fuel, we wanted to have every possible tank filled. 

    We shoved off from the fuel dock at 1000 – right on schedule.  Eric had to reassemble Victor, which had been disassembled on the way in so as not to interfere with the towing bridle.  I was reprimanded for allowing the halyard to become fouled when I loosened it to attach the shackle to the mainsail head.  It is very important to keep tension on the halyard so it doesn’t wrap around something on the mast, ladder steps, or the steaming light.  This time it got fouled on both, and I had to do a lot of playing with the halyard to get it to run free. 

    We started off with a nice west wind, which was good because our heading was SSE.  This later veered to NW and we set the whisker pole and preventer for a run. 

    By the time I came on watch aqt 2400, we were reaching on port tack with a nice 12 knot NE wind, which has so far continued through Wednesday.  We made 133 miles in the first day.  If we keep this up, we should be in the Canaries by Monday.

An Action Packed Night

 Sailing Vessel TUAQ in Tow Behind FIONA

07/04/02

    When I came on watch at 0200, Eric pointed out the things he was keeping an eye on.  A freight ship was coming up on our port quarter, about 2 miles distant.  There were a couple of faint lights off starboard, but did not show up on the radar.  Also, there was a light far ahead, which probably belonged to another sailboat which left Lajes for Horta about half an hour before we did, and was visible on the horizon for the entirety of our trip. 

    David had overheard the two guys from that boat on the phone earlier that day, talking about some engine troubles they were having.  They wanted to haul out the boat in Lajes, but the facilities there are too primitive to handle a yacht of their size.  They decided to press on to Horta, which is much better equipped for yacht repair. 

    I kept a close eye on the freighter to make sure it missed us, and was safely gaining distance away, then I noted the presence of another light, which just appeared on the horizon at the 8 o’clock position.  I decided to listen a little more to “The Perfect Storm” book on tape, as it appeared this would be a pretty quiet watch.  About ten minutes later, I stopped the tape and popped my head out of the companionway to have another look around.  I no longer saw the light directly ahead on the horizion, and there was a new light that appeared right on our port beam!

      Radar showed that it was a little more than a mile distant.  As I looked at the light, which was green, I noticed a spotlight shining around under it.  I decided to turn on the VHF radio on channel 16, to listen in case the boat tried to contact us.  I did not hear anything on the radio, and I watched as the lights passed to our stern.  Perhaps it was a fishing boat doing some work on deck, and nothing to be concerned about. 

    About ten minutes later, I heard this announcement on the VHF: “All stations, this is the sailing vessel TUAQ requesting assistance.”  I responded to the call, and got their position and nature of  their problem.  They indicated their position, which was about two miles from us.  They were indeed the strange lights I had seen off our beam.  They said they were traveling from Flores to Faial (island where Horta is located), and appeared to have a broken drive shaft.  They were drifting in the ocean, as there was absolutely no wind blowing, and requested a tow into Horta. 

    I felt this was a situation which needed to be addressed by the captain, so I woke Eric (it was 0330 at the time) and informed him of the situation.  Eric contacted TUAQ on the radio, and informed them that we are low on diesel fuel, and may not be able to handle a tow.  TUAQ replied that they had plenty of diesel fuel available, which they could provide us.  Eric agreed we could do it, and we turned the boat around and made way towards the lights. 

    At this point we were 47 miles from our waypoint near Horta.  Eric got all hands on deck, and we prepared for setting up the tow.  First, we had to take Victor apart, as his presence on the stern would interfere with the towing bridle.  We took off the wind vane and folded up the rest of the mechanism.  Then we set up fenders on the port side and long bow and stern lines to throw across to the other boat when we came aside.  After that we took a long, heavy docking line (referred to as a “warp”), and with a shorter piece of line, rigged a bridle so that we could attach the tow line to each of the stern cleats and hang it over the transom.  We brought the other end around and got it ready to pass over to the other boat. 

    By that time we were very close to the other boat, and Eric carefully planned his approach.  The sea was pretty calm, but there was a gentle swell which caused both boats to roll back and forth enough to make the rendezvous challenging.  We came up alongside and passed over the bow and stern lines without incident.  There were two guys on the other boat, and they had three jerry jugs of diesel fuel ready, which they handed over to me.  I then handed over the towing warp, and they fashioned a bridle and attached to their  bow cleats.  We disconnected our bow and stern lines, and I paid out the warp, untangling it from the fender, and making sure there was tension so it didn’t get fouled on our propeller. 

    We agreed to monitor VHF channel 68 for further communications, and from then on it was business as usual, except that our estimated time of arrival has slipped from 1145 to 1500, as we can not make the same speed while towing a large sailing yacht.  On the positive side, the sea is almost flat; perfect weather for towing.  We will take the boat up to the area outside Horta harbor, at this time we can call local professionals to come bring them into port (What’s Portuguese for “Sea Tow”?).

Flores - The First Steps on Foreign Soil

 The Harbor at Porto das Lajes, Flores

07/03/02

    It is now 1500, and we are on our way to Horta, having just pulled up the anchor in Porto das Lajes at 1430.  We had a delightful, although brief stay at Flores, having arrived at 1730
yesterday afternoon.  When we turned the corner around the huge concrete jetty that forms the harbor, there were 19 other sailboats anchored there.  We saw a ketch hailing from Falmouth, England.  Eric inquired of the gentleman on the boat about the customs procedures.  He replied on hearing Eric’s British accent and seeing our home port, “You talk pretty funny for a New Yorker”. 

    As it turns out, the customs procedure is quite informal here.  We decided to all go in together on the rigid dinghy, and we met another fellow who was also a member of the CCA, Max Fletcher, who upon seeing Eric’s CCA hat, warmed up to us immediately.  He was sailing with his wife and son, and had just come up from Bermuda on their sailboat, Juanona (dinghy is named Juanita).  We explained that we were here to pick up diesel fuel, and he told us the gas station was way up the hill, then offered us the use of his two jerry cans so we wouldn’t need to make multiple trips.  He also pointed us to the local Restaurante/Pizzaria. 

    We took a walk up the hill to check everything out.  The entire island of Flores is like the top of a mountain, and thus the land comes up from the sea at a very steep angle, so the road we took from the harbor into town was quite steep and winding.  As I hadn’t set foot on land for almost three weeks (more than 2800 miles traveled from Block Island), my gait was a bit unsteady, and negotiating such a steep incline did not help matters.  I was rewarded with a spectacular view of the harbor and the ocean from high on the hill.  We were able to find an ATM (it appears the bank had been built since the cruising guide was published), and I retrieved 200 Euros with no problem.  We continued to walk up the hill (which went on forever), passing small stucco houses with gardens, the police station, school, lighthouse (which looked brand new), and a park. 

    Everything was very clean and new looking.  There are also brilliant blue, yellow, and red flowers growing everywhere.  The island’s name is from Portuguese for “flower”, and the Hydrangea, a light blue ball of flowers, adorns the island’s official seal (along with a cow).  There is also locally made cheese, which is supposed to be quite good.  We bought some at the market to have for lunch tomorrow.  After continuing to walk up the hill with no gas station in sight, we were about to give up, and David asked a woman in her yard for directions.  She spoke English, and directed us up to the next block and right.  We followed her directions and came upon a brand new gas station with modern pumps and air pump.  It said it was open at 0830, but it was closed at the time we got there.  It was quite a hike from the harbor, and we did not look forward to carrying 20 gallons of diesel fuel down that long steep hill (at least it wasn’t up).  Eric said once we get the fuel and see a car, he will use the trick of clutching his chest and collapsing so they will stop and give us a lift. 

    From there we went to the Restaurante Biera-Mar for dinner and a couple of beers.  We were seated on the patio next to the people from the Falmouth boat.  They had sailed up from Grenada where they had spent the winter, which is a regular migration for them.  Eric and I split a medium sausage pizza, and David picked something off the menu, which turned out to be a steak with a fried egg on top, served with French fries, rice and salad.  The pizza was quite good, and I ate ravenously. 

    After dinner, we went back to the boat and had a drink in the cockpit, listening to a Beach Boys tape on the stereo.  We had set our clocks two hours ahead, as the Azores are now set to GMT, and it did not get dark until after 2200.  The harbor was bordered by rocky cliffs on the west, which was apparently home to a large number of bats, which continued to make eerie noises through the night. 

    We awoke shortly after 0700 the next morning, and prepared for the diesel run.  I had to fetch the two jerry cans from the bottom of the sail locker, which required emptying out the contents into the forward head and the cabin.  Once we had the fuel cans loaded, we all loaded up the dinghy and stopped by Juanona to get two more cans.  Juanona would probably be on their way to Horta by the time we were done with them, so we promised to give them back when we came into Horta the next day.  We tied up the dinghy and lugged the empty cans up the endless hill to the gas station, only to find it was not open.  Apparently we did not notice that the gas station was so new that it wasn’t even open for business yet!  We were puzzled.  A truck happened by, and we asked the driver where we could find the real gas station.  He pointed us around another corner where we found some gas pumps on the sidewalk.   The attendant was standing next to them.  We walked up with out empty jugs and asked for diesel fuel.  “No Diesel”, he replied matter-of-factly.  We were stunned.  This was a big problem.  “When do you think you will have some?”, Eric asked.  The attendant shook his head and said, “Later today, maybe 1000”.  We were not sure we could rely on this prediction, so we decided to try to get a taxi to go to Santa Cruz, the capital city, and try to get diesel there.  We had been planning to try to make a trip there anyway.  We asked the shop keeper at the market next door (which sells everything from groceries to furniture) to call us a taxi, and I browsed the market while we were waiting. 

    The taxi came, and we threw the jerry jugs in the trunk, then got in for a winding, hilly ride to Santa Cruz.  We passed through many small villages along the way.  The scenery was breathtaking.  Everywhere there was lush vegetation interspersed with crags of lava rock.  The view of the ocean from high on the hills was awe-inspiring also.  There was nothing but brilliant blue water as far as the eye can see. 

    Once we got to Santa Cruz, we stopped at a Mobil station next to the airport, which was a single airstrip adjacent to town.  We were talking to the taxi driver, who had lived in New England for some time.  He was wearing a watch with the New England Patriots football team logo on it.  He said there are about 4,000 people living on the island, and that a lot of Germans seem to be moving there.  We asked him to take us into town, and he took us down to the harbor, which was extremely treacherous.  Eric had been to this harbor in 1986, and swore he would never go there again.  He almost lost the boat, having to turn around in very tight quarters with a big swell running and the boat’s bow bouncing three feet from the huge rocks that line the harbor.  Once we saw the harbor, we stopped at the bakery to get some bread (so Eric wouldn’t have to bake bread again for a while) and also at the food market to get ham, cheese, apples, and other little things.  David and I bought little bath sponges to aid with our showers.

Eric and David in the Rigid Dinghy

    The taxi driver waited for us, then took us back to Lajes and dropped us off at the dinghy dock.  The whole ride cost 10 Euros (about $10).  We couldn’t take the diesel and all three of us back to the dinghy, so they left me ashore, and David and Eric went to FIONA to load the fuel.  Eric has devised an electric pump and filter setup, which allows him to pump the fuel from the jerry jug into the fuel tank without lifting the jug.  I walked around the dock, which was a huge, industrial concrete structure which loomed 15-20 feet above the water, and checked out the other boats in the harbor.  There were a few boats from France, including a tiny, rickety boat that was no bigger than our first boat, a Grampian 23’.  That boat was occupied by a man and a black cat, which made me nostalgic for our cats.  There was a boat from Brazil (named Voo Livre), one from South Africa, and a few from England. 

    After Eric and David returned, I stopped to call Sue from the public telephone.  I got her voice mail and left a message, then I joined Eric and David at Restaurante Biera-Mar for lunch.  The woman who runs the kitchen came out.  She was very friendly and spoke perfect English.  She rattled off the specials; spare ribs, a whole roasted baby pig (for two), and some kind of fish.  David and I opted for the spare ribs, and Eric only wanted a ham sandwich.  The spare ribs were excellent, served with rice, French fries, and salad.  We were also advised that the local customs agent was dining there too, and we would need to clear with him after we ate.  Eric was then directed to an office above the restaurant where he met the officials and dispensed with the formalities.  It went very smoothly, and he was charged a 3 Euro “light fee” to help support the light house operation.

Lunch at the Biera-Mar

    We went back to FIONA and prepared to shove off, lifting the dinghy back on deck with the staysail halyard, putting the seagull back in its home in the engine room, etc.  David was designated to man the anchor windlass, and my job was to climb into the sail locker, open the door into the anchor chain locker, and as the chain dropped down, move it around so that it does not fall in a pyramid, forming a “castle”, which could collapse on itself and prevent the chain from unwinding freely.  Once we got underway, I began the tedious task of reloading the sail locker. 

    After leaving the harbor we seemed to have a good wind, so we raised the main and were able to unwind the jib, with a little coaxing by hand turning the drum.  After about half an hour the wind died altogether again, as what wind we had was apparently due to a land effect, where the different temperatures over land and sea cause a consistent breeze which putters out a few miles from shore.  We have thus started the engine again, and at this rate expect to arrive in Horta at noon’ish tomorrow.  All the “yachties” we talked to in Flores are also on their way to Horta, so we expect to see a very festive crowd when we arrive.  We are certain there will be enough Americans there for a proper Fourth of July celebration.

Land Ho!!!

07/02/02

I'm viewing land for the first time in almost three weeks

    It is still calm this morning at 0600 as I begin my watch.  Eric will be making pancakes for breakfast, to use the last of the eggs.  We are now 50 miles from our waypoint south of Flores island, and once we reach that point it will be a couple more hours before we anchor at Porto das Lajes.  We are hoping to get there in time to clear through customs, so we can have dinner ashore.

    Yesterday, in the calm weather conditions, we spotted several schools of dolphins jumping at different distances from the boat.  Unfortunately only once did a school get close enough to the boat for a good look.  One dolphin in particular came very close to the boat and jumped out of the water a few times, but he had moved on by the time I had my camera ready.  We also saw the closest ship that we have seen so far.  This was a bulk carrier, distinguished by a pair of large derricks, which are used to load bulk cargo such as iron ore.  This ship approached from our stern, and continued in a parallel course to ours, passing us a little less than a mile off of our starboard.

    I  am quite excited, as today we will see land for the first time in almost three weeks, since seeing Block Island fade from view.  It is true that the time seems to have passed quicker than I expected.  I find myself focusing on when my next watch will be, and not really thinking about much else.  I am really suffering from homesickness, and I hope I can get over it.  Hopefully, a long phone conversation with Sue at Horta will help.

    At 1150, Eric came into the cabin and shouted “Land Ho!”.  The island of Flores was visible off the bow, though to me it looked like a dark cloud at this point, and I would not have recognized it as land.  We now have 20 miles to our waypoint at the southwest corner of the island.  Our destination,, Porto das Lajes, is just north of the southeast corner of the island. 

    We are beginning to prepare for our arrival.  We put away the staysail this morning, and Eric collected our passports and made up a crew list for clearing into customs.  The way it works is the boat comes into the harbor flying the yellow “Q” flag on the starboard spreader.  We anchor, and the captain (Eric) goes by himself with the crew list and passports, and checks in with the local authorities.  Then he comes back and replaces the “Q” flag with the courtesy flag of the country we are visiting.  In this case, I believe it will be Portugal.  At that point we are all free to go ashore.  I am hoping we can clear this afternoon so we can have dinner in town.  The problem is that this town does not have a bank, so we won’t be able to exchange any money until we go to Santa Cruz (the capital of Flores) tomorrow.

Marveling at the Night Sky

07/01/02

    Last night, we watched another movie.  This one was “Beat the Devil” with Humphrey Bogart, Gina Lolabrigida, and a number of other notable actors.  It was very good, though the picture quality was poor this time for some reason. 

   After the movie, everyone else went to bed and I stayed on watch for the 2000-2200 slot.  It was the middle of twilight when I emerged from the cabin at 2100, a mild glow in the western sky.  I could see the planet Venus shining like a beacon to the west, and to the east, only a couple of stars could now be seen against the blanket cast by the waning twilight.  There was not a cloud in the sky, and I spent the entire next hour sitting in the companionway, my arms resting on the cabin top, watching the night sky slowly unfold in front of me as the twilight slowly dissolved in the west.  At first, only a few stars were visible, and with each passing minute, the details of the heavens became a bit more prominent.   By the end of the hour, the entire milky way lay before me in all it’s glory.  Faint white clouds of stars and nebulae belted the center of the sky.  I was looking into the center of our galaxy.  Looking at all these stars, then looking at the vast expanse of empty sea surrounding me caused me to realize the insignificance of three guys on a 42 foot boat in the middle of nowhere.

    During the night the wind died again, and at the end of my 0200-0400 watch, we were making less than 2 knots.  Eric started the engine at 0600, and ran it until 0830, when we tried to unfurl the jib.  The jib wasn’t budging, and Eric went forward with the strap wrench to work it manually.  This was also not successful.  It appears that something is bent in the bottom part of the extrusion, and will need to be replaced when we get to Horta. 

    We made our Iridium calls to Brenda and Sue at 0900 (0700 EST), then turned the engine back on. 

    Later, David went up to the bowsprit, equipped with wrench and screwdriver (safety lines attached) to tighten up the bobstay some more, in hopes that will stretch out the headstay and enable us to pull out the jib again.  He was able to get 12-18 turns on the turnbuckle. 

    We are not yet ready to try the jib again, as there is NO wind.  As of 1130 the engine continues to run.  Monday is also shower day, and this is another thing to look forward to.  When I am in Horta, I need to try to buy a washcloth if possible, as this will help the shower process.  I also should make a note that white t-shirts should be avoided in favor of gray t-shirts, as the white ones look pretty awful after wearing for a week.  Luckily, the weather has been cool, so sweat has not (yet) become a problem.  When I feel myself start to sweat, I take off my shirt, to save from soiling it any more than I have to.  I have managed to avoid sunburn, limiting my exposure without shirt to short periods of time, and applying sunscreen.

    As of 1600, there is still no wind, and Eric has decided to go to Flores first, as we have enough fuel to motor there.  At this rate we should be there by 1700 tomorrow.  He is increasing the speed a little, to get us there earlier so we can check into customs.  Our plan is to  get there late tomorrow, then on Wednesday take on some diesel, which requires shuffling jerry cans back and forth in the dinghy, do a bit of sightseeing on the island, and leave late afternoon to sail overnight to Horta, arriving at Horta sometime Thursday.  It is important to arrive in Horta as early as we can, so if we need to order parts for the furler we can do it by the end of the week.  We expect to spend about 5 days in Horta, which I am looking forward to greatly.