 |
The red line
traces Redwings'
trip from Barcelona along the coast of
Eastern and Southern Spain, and on to
Lanzarote in the Canary Islands via
Gibraltar. |
24 June - Barcelona to
Sitges
Aaron - This
trip started like all others: delayed. We were supposed
to leave yesterday, our new radar which was to
have been installed at some point over the last
10 months was promised to be in for sure
by Thursday evening, but no, it was not to be.
The new mounting bracket which was supposed to
be in hand early in the week did not arrive until
yesterday. Well no big deal. We still had a lot
of organizing and rigging to do and a Saturday
departure actually suited us fine.
Ok so great, all of the key
parts and personal are on hand to finish off the
radar installation yesterday. Everything is
hooked up, we switch it on, and..... nothing! The
electricians fiddle and check and yes 12 volts
are going in but it simply is not turning on. I
guess that is what we get for buying the cheapest
model on the market (JRC 1000 LCD). The yard
electricians indicate that this is the second
radar of this model that they have installed and
the other one had the same problem - needed to be
replaced. Junk they say. Its Friday and a fiesta
(St Juan's) to boot. The JRC importer is in
Valencia. No way to get parts, deal with a
warranty job from Barcelona over the weekend. The
yard (MB 92 - overall very professional and
helpful which was a new experience for us in a
boat yard) sent a fax to the importer in Valencia
(200 miles South of Barcelona) detailing the
situation and we will deal with the warranty when
we get there next week.
Anyway, 0745 and I woke up to
listen to the net which is still run every day by
Bill and Gary on Amadon Light - they also were in
the Red Sea Class of 98. They "rule the
Med" as Colleen says with boats from the
Atlantic Coast to Turkey relying on their
meteorological information and communication
assistance. Unfortunately, Amadon Light is on the
hard somewhere so they are off air, but no
matter, out first leg is only 20 miles down the
coast and there is no hurricane outside so lets
go.
I spent the early(ish) morning
doing final jobs and then Colleen got up, we
threw on the bikes, and headed for the fuel dock
at Marina Port Vell. While I fueled up, Colleen
walked over to the "G" Spot (dock G
where we wintered in MPV) to wake up La Scala and
Voodoo to see us off. She also uploaded /
downloaded e-mails on La Scala.
When she returned, she said
"Aaron I've got some bad news, your Grandpa
Henderson died.....". Wow. Unexpected but
anticipated. Three years ago while we were in the
middle of boat-yard-hell in Hong Kong doing the
refit my Dad called me and told me that Grandpa
had cancer and had six months to live. That was
when the main shock hit. I was very close with
Grandpa Henderson and we had spent many weeks
hunting and fishing together in the woods, lakes,
and bays of Maine. He was really the one who
turned me on to the outdoors and the rich
sportsman's heritage of our state. At that time,
I considered delaying our departure from Hong
Kong to return (even though our crew Kerry had
arrived from the US, we were signed up for two
regattas in Asia, the refit / preparations needed
total attention), but my Dad assured me that it
was not necessary and that Grandpa was going to
give it a good fight and try to beat it.
Francis Brady Henderson, the
sheriff of Somerset County for over 20 years, was
a very tough old guy and took a huge whap of
chemo and beat back the bug. He looked better
than ever when I saw him again in December 1998.
He really enjoyed reading the website and
following the adventures of Redwings.
I was lucky enough to see him a few more times as
well, including just last week when I was in
Maine at my cousins' wedding.
Of course I am saddened by the
loss, but in fact I am mostly grateful that I had
so many great times with my Grandpa over the last
30 years and that he lived a full and active life
until the end (still fishing at 87), and when the
end came, it came quickly. Colleen never knew any
of her grandparents and until today, I've always
had four (my Mom's dad is 98 and going strong!)
I had a bit of time to reflect
on this news and then Lorraine, Nito, Renee and
Nana came by and it was hugs and kisses all
round. We had not seen Kel and Lorraine (La
Scala) since my birthday in Turkey in 98 and
probably won't hook up with them till they cross
into the Caribbean in 2001. Nito and Renee hope
to visit in Thailand or the Caribbean, but with
baby, job, soon new house, could be difficult. I
could see a look of envy on Nito's face as we
freely left the dock and Barcelona and he turned
back to his world.
The only feeling better then
getting into port after a long passage is leaving
again after a long stay. The bad cruising
memories are just good or funny stories and the
great memories have a golden shine. Everything is
new and exciting. Fixing something is a fun
challenge rather than a major pain. We are sad to
leave Barcelona, it is probably the greatest all
around city I have ever lived in, and our good
friends, but it's great to be moving again and Redwings
feels like she is enjoying it too
(even though she always has liked hanging out in
Barca, this is where the previous owners John and
Caroline rescued her in 1989).
The winds were light and on
the nose so we elected to motor the whole way to
Sitges. Anyway, I wanted to give the engine a
good workout to blast out any carbon build-up and
mega-charge the batteries. After an hour, Colleen
took over and I went down to read - the first
time I've had an hour to relax since getting to
Spain. The hummm of the engine, sway of boat and
content feeling that there was nothing else I
should be doing helped me doze off....
We easily found a "bows
to" berth in Sitges marina and the
"marinaros" were efficient in helping
us with the lines and giving us a receipt to take
to the office. We offloaded our bikes, headed
over to the officinal and 20 minuets later we
were checked in paid, and done. US$35 for a night
- bit more than we expected, but this is the high
season for cruising around here and it is damn
convenient. There are no good safe anchorages
along the coast anyway and the little fishing
harbors are for the most part too shallow.
We biked into the town which
is an old walled city overlooking the sea. Sitges
was one of the major modern art centers of Europe
early in the century and remains full of
galleries and museums. We had a great time riding
around and hit a few museums. Had a drink on the
main drag and watched the posers stroll by
checking out the scene. Back to the boat and a
boat-cooked meal and our earliest to bed: 2300.
This is Spain. We are usually just tucking into
dinner at this time!
Cruiser's
Notebook: Sitges is a good stop, but not a must
stop. Decent marina, but a bit cramped and
relatively expensive (pts 6,000 for us for one
night) than others. We had to squeeze in between
two big motor yachts bows to. In our pilot, it
indicated to come straight in and tie up at a
fuel dock way inside the marina. The fuel dock is
now to port as you enter the marina. The staff
will see you from the "tower" in the
middle of marina (that is also where the office
is) and someone will direct you to a berth - if
there is one! Again, pretty crowded, popular
town, and close to Barca so I would not bank on a
space being available.
25 June - Sitges to
Tarragona
Colleen - We
left Sitges at 0900 in light 5-10 knot winds on
the nose. As a result we motor sailed the whole
way. Seas were flat, and the sun came out around
noon. Redwings arrived
at the main port at 1300, and entered what was
described as the section of ports for yachts
according to our cruising guide. We should
mention that our cruising guide is more than 6
years out of date. 15 minutes into the large
industrial port, their suddenly appeared a low
bridge (too low for Redwings)
that was nowhere mentioned in the cruising guide.
Dumbfounded we contacted the port authorities on
the radio. They said that a marina was situated
just outside of the port on the Northern side,
and we should immediately exit the port as yachts
were not permitted in. Evidently the marina was
built after our cruising guide was published.
We arrived at the
"new" marina around 1400. What a treat!
As soon as we pulled in a helpful marinero to
take our lines directed us alongside the pontoon.
Redwings hasn't had the
pleasure of going alongside in years, so used to
stern or pulpit to Med-mooring styles. The dock
was clean, the marina pleasant, if a bit
expensive.
It was Sunday, so all is shut
in Spain. Aaron and I figured we need to see what
we can though. We hit the road to tour Tarragona.
We biked along the city's Ramblas, and cycled
around and around the old walled city with
amphitheater etc. until we felt we'd seen enough.
Back to the boat for minor jobs (tightening and
cleaning life lines and dorade vents). I tried
out a Spanish dish we hadn't had in a while that
Renee had shown me, Lenteja Pardina, Estilo
Espanol. Its great to have access to Spanish
ingredients again like spicy chorizo. After
dinner Aaron and I reminisced on past boat lives
really laughing and enjoying our memories of
cruising and Redwings.
While lounging on the dock over cocktails many
people strolled by and admired Redwings.
We realized that in many ways she is a very
pretty boat, especially when in such good shape -
the varnish looks great and getting the grime off
the life lines and dorade vents really made it
look that much sharper. In bed at 2300 as leaving
for first overnight passage tomorrow.
Cruiser's
Notebook: We liked Tarragona as a town to visit
and the facilities are excellent. Worth a stop. A
good full day hop from Barca on the way down,
especially if you have already "done"
the Sitges thing while wintering in Barca. Our
pilot indicated that the yacht marina was inside
the main port. However, within the past few
years, a fantastic new marina has been
constructed at the Northeastern end of the
harbor. The entrance for the new marina is at 41
deg 06 North 1 deg 15 E. We were able to tie up
alongside in a very convenient location. Good
security system. Helpful marinaros. However, not
cheap - again about pts 6,000 per night for us.
One boat left for the next marina down (Cambrils)
but came right back and gave a scathing report on
the service and availability of suitable space.
26 June - At sea en
route to Gandia (40 deg 12 min N, 0 deg 5 min E
as of 2200)
Aaron - It's
2200 and I've just got off watch and handed the
helm over to Colleen. We left Tarragona at 0900
to make a 140 nautical mile passage to the port
of Gandia which is about 65 km (40 miles) south
of Valencia. Gandia is a beach town famous for
night life and will undoubtedly be full of
holiday makers from Madrid. Gigolo (remember
Dorothy and Gary from Israel, Cyprus, and
Greece?) told us on the radio sked that its a
miss, but we've got to go there as that is where
the JRC distributor for Spain is located so we'll
head there and try to sort out getting it fixed
or getting a new unit. To be honest, I am not
optimistic. I expect to be treated as a pain in
the ass rather than a customer as I bought the
radar in the US and don't have the sales slip
etc. We will see. Perhaps we will get lucky.
In any event, this is a nice
passage and Gandia is more or less on our way. I
originally estimated that it would take us about
24 hours to get there, but the wind has been
blowing just 10 - 20 degrees off the rhumb line
so we have had to sail a zig zag tacking course
with a bit of motor sailing thrown in to make
progress to whether. But its great to be sailing
again. For most of the evening we were trucking
along with one reef in the main and a bit of
genoa rolled up doing 6-7 knots in 15 to 20 knots
of true wind. Nice to shake the rig out. No
problems.
One weird thing that we may
have mentioned in the past: again at night
somebody comes on channel 16 and taunts the
"Filipino Monkey". This is obviously an
international past time (we started hearing it in
the Red Sea) as here they say "Philippine
Monkey, maricon" maricon is a homosexual
slur in Spanish. Weird......
Off to catch an hour or two of
sleep before we run out of sea (i.e. run into
land!) and I need to get up to help Colleen tack
and get reoriented on the new course.
Colleen - Comments
that I've been enjoying boat life again were made
a bit too hastily. Before the overnighter! I
forgot how much I hate overnight sailing. I just
don't do sleep deprivation well. I now remember
the most hated words anyone has ever uttered to
me " Time to get up for your watch...".
I also feel at a low level of shitty the whole
time, trying to minimize time and activities
below to stave off nausea.
Actually not much to complain
about on this passage. It is brief (one night
only) and not very much weather, or serious
traffic to dodge other than the odd fishing buoy
(daylight) or containership or fishing boat. We
did have a moment of stress around 7pm. We were
motor sailing to make progress to windward and
Aaron was mentioning that the fuel tank we were
on should run out by midnight, so I should remind
him to change it before then. The tank went dry
at abut 6:45. We both started to seriously
question his fuel consumption calculation (and
the fact that the tanks were even all the way
filled in Barcelona - the gauges are broken),
which led us to the obvious concern of running
out of fuel before Gandia and pondering how we
could get into the harbor without an engine. I
don't think we'd be so prone to stressing over it
if we hadn't run out of fuel several once before
and experienced major stress scenes as a result
drifting for hours off Italy before flagging down
the godsent fishing boat. We went through drills
of what would happen if we lost power in the
middle of the harbor, drop the anchor. Will be a
bit more complicated now that the bloody windlass
is not working! A few days ago I was insisting to
Aaron that I want to carry a spare jerry can of
diesel on deck, "just so you always know
you'll have something to save to get into a
harbor". He was against it bizarrely,
claimed diesel on deck too messy. All of a sudden
he has come around and agreed we'll be carrying a
jerry can next time.
As a result we started to sail
even though there was not much wind at first and
it was on the nose, but then it filled in and we
managed nicely, though at a serious heel as we
were going right upwind, until about midnight
when the wind pooped out.
Perhaps partially because we
got in some hours of sailing, our fuel lasted us
through 'till docking at the Club Nautico the
next morning, June 27th.
Aaron - Note
on fuel tanks: we are only using two as our
biggie has a small leak which is survivable, but
a bit smelly so we don't plan to fill it again
until we do the Atlantic crossing. We should be
able to get three full days of motoring out of
our two smaller tanks (18 gal and 50 gal) which
should be more than sufficient for the five day
trip to the Canaries (should get at least two
days of sailable winds).
27 June - Gandia
Colleen - I
should note a rather auspicious event for Redwings
that occurred this morning. At 7:07am, we crossed
into the Western Hemisphere by going through 0
degrees longitude. I marked the moment on my
watch, which I almost missed as I kept tally of a
freighter's movements that we were passing by.
Waking at 6am for my watch wasn't too awful. It
was getting up again at 11:00am for docking after
only 45 minutes sleep that really put me into a
foul mood. When doing night passages I feel awake
I'm half asleep, and asleep, I'm half awake, with
the sounds and the distractions always knawing at
your sleep.
On arriving into port, Aaron
went off to deal with the radar, I tried to sleep
but couldn't. I made lunch when he came back with
the radar guy, put the cabin in order and went
off for a two hour nap. Thank God, I was restored
to humanity. Luckily, when you wake up in Spain
at 4 pm, its so early you still feel like you
have a full day in front of you. I tore out all
the blankets and sheets and finally washed and
hung them out and did some serious cleaning.
Aaron and I quickly decided we didn't need to see
any of Gandia. He describes it as a Spanish
"Old Orchard Beach", I would consider
it Old Nantasket Beach. Honky Tonk Boardwalk
Beach Town for weekend and daytrippers. Hard to
make a waterfront uglier. The old saying about
rows and rows of white, square, ugly cement
blocks along the coast of Spain, couldn't be more
accurate.
By 7pm I was twitchy to get
off the boat though. So I went to do some grocery
shopping. At 8pm I went for the first jog since
we've been back in Spain. My body was craving
exercise and physical movement that didn't
involve cleaning gloves. I was achy from sleeping
in awkward positions on the boat.
This was the best part of
Gandia, a beach boardwalk miles and miles long,
with the whole town out for their evening
promenade. The sun was low enough to cool down
the air for a run.
More work when I got back and
we finished off the evening with supper at 10:30.
By 11:00 I was out cold in my bed for the
evening.
Aaron - I
know you are all dying to hear about the radar.
And Colleen mentioned that the windlass was
broken so I'll fill you in on that as well. As
Colleen mentioned, I found the JRC importer and
they indicated that the machine was not under
warranty in Europe as I bought it on the US
(stupid - JRC is international and boats by
nature do tend to more around) but they were
helpful and came right back to the boat.
"Alfredo" confirmed the a) the radar
was getting 12 volts and b) it did not work. Yes
we know that. That's why we are here. And took it
back to the shop.
So, next project. As Colleen
mentioned yesterday, the windlass is not
operating. It seems that the contacts on the foot
pedals are worn and the Sikaflex (black gooey
junk) in which they are bedded into the deck is
breaking down and water has been getting in
generally corroding everything. I've pulled out
the foot controls and am stripping everything
down. I went into town to find some parts but
nothing. Colleen will have to live with the
"stress" of not having it
(automatically) functional until Alicante where I
will be able to find the bits I need and a full
day to let a new batch of Sikaflex harden when I
stick the buggers back in the deck. Yes I know,
how interesting.
Later in the afternoon the JRC
people called and indicated that yes in fact the
unit "no functiona" and that they would
have to send for a part, replace it, etc. That
would occur on Thursday at the earliest. No good.
So we are going to take off, they are going to
fix it, and then send it to their distributor
near Malaga (South of Spain). We will sail in
there next week and he will check everything and
re-install the unit. We have to pay for
everything which will probably be 50% as much as
I paid for the whole damn radar in the US! They
will give me all of the paper work and
non-functioning parts and hopefully we can get
some sort of credit at West Marine and they can
then fight it out with JRC.
Cruiser's
Notebook: Gandia is a "must miss" as a
place to see, but the marina is good and the
people helpful. A bit cheaper at pts 4,800 or so
per night, water was another pts 260 - all you
can drink. The people in the office did not
really seem to understand much about the concept
of hooking up to the internet with one's own
computer, but they let me try (even though I
could then not get a connection).
28 June - At sea en
route to Alicante (38 deg 46 min N, 0 deg 15 min
E as of 2300)
Aaron - We
slept in this morning and did odd jobs during the
day (and also tried unsuccessfully to find
somewhere to get on El Internet) and departed for
the fuel dock at 1500 to fill our one empty tank
and other who-knows-how-full/empty tank. As
Colleen mentioned, we were shocked to have run
the Port 18 Gal tank dry in 10 hours - that is a
rate of fuel consumption almost double normal.
But total weirdness we could only fill it with 10
gallons this afternoon, even though it appeared
to be bone dry with the engine sucking air the
other night! If it really had 10 gallons only the
other night as well, that would explain why we
ran out. I've never really looked at those fuel
tanks. When we get to Alicante I'm gonna dig all
of the stuff out of the cockpit lockers and see
what I can see. Could have something to do with a
clogged air intake. Also I want to try to get the
gauges running, which I think is only a matter of
installing a new on/off switch.
As soon as we left the harbor,
we put up the sails and, once again, started
beating to windward. It seems the South
Westerlies we fought in here have shifted to a
South Easterlies now that we want to go South
East! But, we are well rested and it was fun
sailing. We've also got lots of time as its only
72 miles to Alicante (a 10-14 hour trip) and we
actually don't want to get in in the middle of
the night. The idea of leaving in the afternoon
was to have a lazy morning, enjoy the best
sailing time (afternoon - not much wind during
other times) and then get in to Alicante in the
morning. That will also save us a night in an
expensive marina. I did not realize till I read
Colleen's entry above how much she hates night
passages. I'm surprised she agreed to this plan!
Well its now her watch and the end of the day for
me.
29 June - Alicante
Aaron - Just
as we switched watches we rounded Cabo de la Nao
(the Eastern most point of Southern Spain that
sticks out towards Iibza - from here on we will
always be heading Southwest towards out ultimate
goal of Lanzarote) and the wind died so Colleen
fired up the engine. Now for some reason, when I
am on night watch, I almost never have any close
encounters with other vessels. But when Colleen
takes over, ships from all over the Med converge
on killer courses for Redwings.
Just before I went to bed, Colleen asked me help
identify a light off the bow. To me, it looked
like a stationary fishing vessel. Whatever it
was, it was not moving so I said to leave it well
to starboard as passing to port would put us
between them and the shore. I was had just
settled down in my bunk when Colleen yelled for
me to quickly come up on deck "now hurry up!
that boat is moving!" Me: "I can't find
my glasses, hold on!" When I finally got
vision and got up there we were cruising
alongside and out to sea with a small container
vessel. Apparently, he had all of a sudden
started to move to cross our path and head out to
sea and Colleen had not seen the running lights
and just kept bearing to port to try to get
around him. I put the engine in neutral, let him
pass, and crossed behind him and put us back on
course. Things always get a bit weird and
confusing at night when you think you know what
another boat is doing and you have that in your
mind and then it does something else. I went down
to plot us. Then, just before I turned in for the
second time, Colleen asked me what to do if she
approached a vessel head on around the cape. I
said if its really head on and it does not look
like they are turning in to shore, go "port
to port" (i.e. bear to Starboard and in
towards shore) as normal, but if she was at all
unsure (as don't want to go too close to shore),
head sharply to port make sure the other vessel
can see our green starboard light and intentions.
Apparently, these questions were not rhetorical
as another ship which was angling towards us but
looked to be passing between us and the land all
of a sudden changed course and headed out to sea
right across our bow. I was hauled up on deck
again to provide another set of eyes.
When I came up for my watch,
of course, there was no traffic and and the wind
was starting to fill in from the NE and we had
some good downwind sailing with 15-20 behind us
for the rest of the night.
Colleen - one
of the most exciting parts of the cruise was
checking in again for the morning sked of the Med
that Bill and Gary on Amadon Light run on 8101.
They give the weather at 7:45 am each day, and
boats from all over the Med check in, we hear
boats as far away as Greece and Croatia. Amadon
Light has been on the hard and unable to run the
net. We were pulling into Alicante as the net
began, and Aaron made us wait for almost an hour
heading to wind outside the harbor entrance to
listen to the net before entering (its hard to
pick it up while the motor is running, and
besides if we entered the harbor we would be too
busy navigating and line handling to listen down
below, all of the masts and other obstructions
and transmissions in harbors also impede
reception).
We were really surprised to
hear "Hells Belles" check in from
Croatia. This was the boat we met in the Aolian
Islands in Italy two summers ago. They had very
kindly given us their Eastern Spain Cruising
Pilots to use and "send back to them one
day" even though we only met them for one
day before moving on our separate ways. Now that
we are finally putting the pilots to use, we've
been thinking of them and wondering where they
are. We had a brief catch up with them on the
net. We also talked to Navarra, which we haven't
seen since Turkey, and Bin on Dracamaris, from
the Red Sea days. What a treat! It made holding
off and heading to windward for almost an hour
worthwhile. I almost died of laughter when Bin
responded back to us on the net giving our update
with, "Good stuff, good stuff." I
forgot that this was his trademark response to
almost everything on the net in the Red Sea.
Catching up on the net made us really feel like
we were kind of going back to our own gang again.
Sometimes when Aaron and I are pushing across
ahead of the pack you really feel alone out
there. Each night a new port and you don't know
anyone. And we haven't really been running into
any cruisers as we are in between cruising areas
for this time of year.
Alicante was lovely. A
fabulous marina, and a great all around town. Our
first morning in there was pretty masochistic
though, and we paid the price. After the all
night sail we decided that this was the perfect
time to drag out those dirty sail covers and
biminis that have caked on dirt from covering the
boat all winter in Barcelona, and scrub them down
and then hang them out to dry. Mama mia what a
job! It was physically exhausting. They were a
mess, and they are huge, and so difficult to move
once full of water. I could barely stand up from
exhaustion when we commenced the job, as we moved
into our third hour of work, our moods and
demeanors had deteriorated to barely human.
Finally, we finished at about noon, just before
killing each other or ourselves, and went down
below for well-need naps.
Once again we awoke in time
for the close of the siesta, and the second half
of a day to begin in Spain, 4pm. We hopped on the
bikes and headed for ferriteria-land (ferriteria
means hardware store in Spanish). The only
downside possibly to this town is the fact that
you have what is effectively an expressway
running right alongside the marina. Navigating on
the little Dorothy bike on a Spanish expressway
is no fun. We muddled our way through the first
chandlery, ferriteria and were re-directed to the
"greatest" ferriteria in town, where we
spent a good hour deciding whether or not to
purchase fuel jerry cans. Redwings now
seems to be exploding with empty low-quality
jerry cans purchased out of desperation in mostly
3rd world locals, that we can't use for water,
because they have been deflowered with diesel,
but we can't use for diesel, because Aaron is
convinced they are too cheap and leaky. I asked
him to think hard about these cans, insisting
that they may come to our graves with us. We went
for the purchase, and were the happy owners of 3
new 20 liter cans that now needed to be strapped
to the back of my bike along with other
purchases. I love how my journey through exotic
locals mostly focuses on excursions in hardware
stores.
Aaron and I split up. He went
off for more hardware shopping and we decided
that my already unwieldy, top-heavy little bike
best get itself back to port before it topples
over. Lets just say it was a little stressful
navigating down the "expressway"
(without a breakdown lane) back to the marina.
Aaron and I were still pretty
sleepy, and we turned in early (by Spanish
standards) at 2300. I was awoken at midnight by
tremendous booms and explosions. Sleepily I
lifted my head out the hatch. The most fantastic
fireworks display in history was being set off
over the port! Hey, I've been in Boston on the
turn of the millenium, Hong Kong at the handover,
and this was at least equal to them both. Despite
my exhaustion, I felt obliged to watch. What is
up with this country? Its like festival after
festival. There were a full 25 minutes of large
scale fireworks (believe me, I was watching the
clock, as I wanted to get back to bed). I figured
while up, I should go lock up the bikes, which we
were too sleepy to do before. On the dock, I
noticed every boater sitting on their decks for
the big event. Aaron and I must have been the
only two that missed this one coming.
A great testament to Aaron's
exhaustion, he never bloody woke up!! He said he
dreamed of boom, boom, boom noises, but had no
idea what had gone on when I told him about it
the next morn.
Cruiser's
Notebook: Wow. Great marina. All services here
including laundry right at the dockside. They
have on-line free weather info with all of the
Med charts you can dream of. And its the cheapest
yet for us at pts 4,000 all in (water and ele
included). Fantastico. The view from the marina
is also great and the location as central as
possible. The city is very interesting. Highly
recommended. Staff understand e-mail concept and
are used to helping people get on line.
30 June - Alicante
Aaron - We
did odd boat jobs in the morning and socialized
with several American boats on the same pontoon.
Inge and Espie of Seeadler are heading through
the Med the way we have come so we gave them tips
and advice on where and where not to go.
Tourmaline was recently purchased by am American
guy in Portugal and he will be bringing her back
to the US via the Atlantic Rally for Cruisers
(ARC) "race".
The ARC leaves every year in
late November from Las Palmas in the Canary
Islands bound for St Lucia in the Caribbean. Last
year 225 boats joined the rally which is sort of
a fun race / safety in numbers / major party sort
of event. We have been thinking about joining,
but I am not that keen on the date (19 November,
last year they left on the 25th and had little
winds, the NE trades often don't really kick in
until December - they were also chasing the very
late season hurricane Lenny) and also sort of
want to go to the Cape Verde islands further
South and make the jump from there. However, on
the plus side it probably is "safer"
(even though the Atlantic crossing is probably no
less risky than anything else we have done) and
everyone we know who has done it has really loved
it.
 |
In the photo on the
left, which was taken from the top of the
castle, you can see the Marina, and
Redwings somewhere down
below. |
In the afternoon we
"did" Alicante. First stop was the huge
and imposing castle which lords over the whole
town. You ascend in an elevator accessed via a
tunnel near the beach and come out some 500 feet
over the town in the castle. Great views.
We then descended into the old
walled portion of the town and stumbled into a
mediaeval festival. The streets were all closed
off to vehicle traffic and there were arts and
crafts, food, and other booths of interest manned
by people in mid-ages garb.
We finally found an internet
cafe and checked our e-mails and other
"important news" sites. I can't f'in
believe it! The Red Sox, who were in first place
in their division before I left, are 3 1/2 games
back and Pedro is on the 15 day DL!
Ok, one last time. Lets give
it a good try. We tried Paella, the most famous
regional dish for this part of Spain, in the
Balearics, in Barcelona, and it was always,
salty, greasy, and gross. Ok so now we are in
Valencia province - the paella capital of Spain,
and we have a recommended restaurant to go to in
the port, so lets order a paella. Edible but we
still don't get it. Done.
1 July - En route to
Estepona (37,35 N 00,44 W as of 2000)
Aaron - The
plan: the weather has remained reasonably
favorable (light southerlies) and there is
nothing we really must see between here and
Malaga, so we are hoping to put in a 280 mile
passage to Estepona which is between Malaga and
Gibraltar. It's also where we need to go to get
the radar back and re-installed. The trip should
take 48 to 60 hours. But there are so many ports
and marinas along the way, if we get beat or the
whether is bad, we can tuck in at any time. But
as long as the going is good, we want to get
going. We may well need the time in the back to
await a weather window at the other end (i.e.
Gibraltar).
So, with a view to ensuring we
could get in during daylight on the 3rd, we had
originally planned to leave this morning at 0600.
An electronics shop in the marina had promised to
have a part for us for the windlass yesterday
afternoon and claimed they would leave it with
reception as we were out touring Alicante and
would not be back before they closed at 8 p.m. Of
course, when we returned yesterday evening,
reception had no idea what I was talking about.
Oh well, the shop at 0900. I'll grab it and
we'll go. Give me time to check the weather on
the net first anyway and to get up at a more
civilized hour. At the shop at 0900 and its
closed. I wait for an hour and no one has showed
up tothe door, even though it says right on
the door it at 0900 on Saturday. I waited
for one more hour. F-it. We left and although it
was a small thing, it was enough in combination
with a stomach full of nothing more than two cups
of strong coffee to put me in a surly mood, which
rubbed off on Colleen and we squabbled all the
way out the harbor.
But apart from that, great
day. Although the wind seems to constantly be on
the nose, we had enough of an angle that we could
sail along for most of the afternoon with a full
rig hard on a 10 knot breeze making 5-6 knots to
windward. Very relaxing taking turns watching,
reading, and eating, napping. However, as evening
fell it was back to the engine and we motorsailed
through thick dewy haze and 2-3 knots right on
the nose. We were in a coastal shipping lane
heading from Cabo de Palos and Cabo De Gata (the
Southeastern most "corner" of Spain)
and we were passed by 3 or 4 container ships
pretty close by as they emerged and disappeared
fleetingly in the haze.
2 July - At sea en
route to Estepona (36,39 N 02,54 W as of 1900)
Aaron - A
smooth beginning and rough ending to this day. We
motored along at 5-6 knots into light headwinds
during the early morning hours. As we passed
Punta del Media Naranja I inexplicably felt like
eating 1/2 an orange.... Colleen saw the trip's
first pod of dolphins playing in the bow wake
early in morning and tried unsuccessfully to wake
me for a look, but hey, I need my beauty sleep
and a dolphin is a dolphin right? Maybe they will
bring us good luck and favorable winds... but
based on the weather that developed later in the
day, I think my ignoring them may have been bad
karma... Colleen also saw another troop of them
playing around the boat in the evening.
In the early afternoon, the
wind built sufficiently and veered a bit to the
South such that we were able to sail. At one
point, were were making 6.5 knots down the rhumb
line close hauled under full sail and I was
feeling pretty confident that we would make
Estepona by nightfall tomorrow. But the wind
built steadily from 10-15 to 15-20 gusting 25 by
midnight and veered back to the West - right on
the nose. The seas have steepened and progress
has slowed to 3-4 knots. We almost pulled into a
port around sundown just after we had thrown the
third reef in the main, but the wind then died
back to 10-12 so we pushed on, just to get
slammed later when it would have been dangerous
to approach the coast to get into a harbor. So,
here we are slogging it out, bashing into short
steep waves that are breaking over the bow. The
wind and seas are building and the barometer has
dropped a couple of tics. We'll see what tomorrow
brings.
3 July - Marina Del
Este
Colleen - well
tomorrow brought a bunch of rubbish. Aaron woke
me for my 4 a.m. watch very jolly, saying, its
been blowing up to 25 all night, but its just
eased back to 10-15, so smooth sailing from here
for you. Not. I had seen this the night before
twice. The wind eases off for 10-15 minutes,
especially around a point, then right back up
again. I didn't even mind getting up I was having
such an awful attempt at sleep with all that
banging around.
Soon after my watch
commencement we were up to 25 knots again. By
this time the sea state is even larger due to the
build up. I was in the middle of the shipping
lane and thinking, God this really sucks. One
large vessel was coming up to overtake me and for
two bloody hours I had to watch the damn thing. I
couldn't believe it was taking so long to
overtake me. It finally looked as though it would
overtake to port. Then I get a bunch of lights in
front of me which I should really fall off to
Starboard for to allow him pass "port to
port". But I felt I couldn't really alter
course until the boat astern overtook me. Around
dawn, the damn thing still hadn't overtaken. I
could see the wind was doing a steady 25-30 knots
and we were making crap progress heading into the
seas. What's the point of going on? Isn't two
days enough of this? I stuck my head down to
Aaron, and yelled, "I've got it touching 30
knots, when can we give it a break?"
He looked at our speed; we
were making only about 2-3 miles/hour through the
water, and said, "lets head into the next
port 6 miles away, Marina del Este". We
arrived about 8 a.m., and were directed to a
berth immediately. The port was darling. A real
little sheltered oasis, surrounded by steep,
rocky cliff/hills covered by the regional flora.
Just a small, surprisingly tastefully done
housing development around the port with dockside
restaraunts and shops.
Aaron seemed to have a serious
sense of humor failure with what he believed was
an absurdly too thick mooring line. He almost
lost it. I just observed in silence, recognizing
the signs of sleep deprivation, and resulting
inability to cope properly with the world. As
soon as he seemed to have "gotten over"
the mooring line size issue and was satisfied
with our tying up, I insisted we go right to
sleep.
We awoke at 3p.m. I was
starting to feel really jet lagged. My body isn't
really sure what it wants or needs or expects
anymore. We decided to take lunch at the cafe
right in front of the boat. The situation was
lovely, the food crap. Mid-lunch a boat pulled in
right beside us. I hopped down to put some
fenders out. Koala, is an Irish registered boat
that just sailed down from Dublin. They were dead
friendly. Two Irish guys that owned the boat
together, and one's American wife. We chatted
with them for quite a while comparing notes as we
were heading in opposite directions. Aaron and I
kind of dazed throughout the rest of the
afternoon doing odd jobs and taking a walk around
the marina.
 |
 |
| Lunch
with Redwings
in Background |
Can
you find Redwings? |
Koala invited us to join them
for dinner. I was eager to eat dinner with them,
but not eager to try another restaraunt after
lunch's experience. They went ahead and we said
we would join them after we finished our jobs,
one of them being to rig up the staysail for
tomorrow. We should have done it before to help
us point into the wind better.
We really enjoyed spending the
evening with them. The two older guys who own the
boat are very seasoned sailors that have probably
been racing around Ireland for 20 or 30 years.
They have owned three boats together. One of
them, Peter, filled us with great "tales of
adventure" at sea, including when he
actually was on a boat that collided with a
tanker one night. He considered himself lucky to
be alive after that one. I remarked to Aaron when
the evening ended that it was nice to be with
"my people" (the Irish!) again.
Cruiser's
Notebook: Very protected little marina especially
if the wind is from the West. We had 25-30
"out there" and only 5-15 "in
here" thanks to the large sheltering hills
and a big rock / island that forms part of the
marina wall. The only complaint, as Colleen
mentioned, was that the mooring line was as thick
as my wrist and barely fit through our fair lead
and was hugely heavy and tough to work with. In
addition, it was at a wacko angle to the marina
wall and the boat was impossible to get keep
perpendicular without a spiderweb of spring
lines. Cheapest marina yet for us: pts 3,700.
They have a direct phone line which runs on a
meter and can be used to get on-line.
4th of July - Marina
Del Este to Estepona
Aaron - We
left Marina Del Este 0915 after topping up on
fuel. The Westerly was still in place, but had
died down as advertised to 10-15 although the
swell was still substantial. Right after we got
off the net yesterday, apparently a Gale Warning
was put into effect for the Alboran Sea so good
thing we came in and did not try to fight it out.
 |
We are now resigned to
fighting to windward to we rigged the
staysail last night which will give us a
tighter slot and better sailing angle. I
am preparing to set the staysail in the
photo on the left. |
We made good progress through
the day (5-7 knots through the water, 5-6 VMG)
motor sailing with a triple reefed main and
barber hauled staysail at 15 degree apparent wind
angles tacking along the coast trying to get out
of the swell behind points and also avoiding 1-2
knot East flowing current. A bit of a bash at
times, especially as the wind built back to 20-25
in the afternoon, but we covered the 75 miles to
Estepona in a little over 12 hours giving us an
average speed of 6 knots point to point. Pretty
good considering the wind, waves, and currents
around here.
As we approached Estepona at
sundown, The Rock (Gibraltar) appeared out of the
haze 35 miles to the Southwest. Hey, we are
making it! This phase of this trip will soon be
over and we will be out into the Atlantic for the
first time (although Redwings has
been there before....)
Cruiser's
Notebook: We had heard that space was tight in
Estepona, but we got a berth no problem even
coming in at dusk and the staff were helpful.
Cheapish at pts 3,700. "Free" bottle of
vino at check in. Can use phone line for e-mails
for free. Have heard bad things about nearby
marina Benalmedena that most Malaga-stoppers go
to (typically no room in Malaga itself for
cruisers). Reports are that there are limited
spaces for visiting yachts, the staff are very
unfriendly, and its expensive. It may be better
to come to Estepona (or even Marina del Este) and
rent a car to go to Malaga. Also in striking
distance of Malaga Marbella is between Estepona
and Benalmedena and received a good report: down
market but "cheap and cheerful". Puerto
de Jose Banus received a major thumbs down from
other cruisers and is reportedly priced and
managed specifically with a view to keeping
"riff raff" cruisers out. Must have big
white Clorox bleach bottle boat and gold chain to
be admitted.
5 July - Estepona to
Gibraltar
Aaron -
Against the odds, today was great. We pulled in
to Estepona specifically to pick up the main
brain and visual display portion of our radar
which was to be fixed in Gandia (after they
received a part ordered from elsewhere), and
delivered here. This is Spain. This is marine
electronics. This is a radar with bad karma. This
is Redwings. What are
the chances that a) it will have arrived b) the
distributor will be able and or willing to
quickly install it and make sure it works?
Honestly probably about 25% in the real boat
world that we live in.
I called the dude and asked if
he had received the unit and or heard of our
existence and situation and he confirmed he had
both the unit and was ready and willing to help
us ASAP and would be onboard by 1530. He showed
up early, finished the installation (with an
in-line fuse this time) and presto - it worked! A
quick lesson and he was off and we were off. Hey,
its only 1500 and the wind is actually blowing
from the East. We can make Gibraltar this
evening!
As soon as we were out of the
gate we rolled just the genoa out and shut off
the engine and coasted along comfortably at 5
knots broad reaching in a 10-12 knot breeze. I
went below to play with my new toy (the radar)
and practice up for The Straits while Colleen
took in some sun and a novel in the cockpit.
Wonderful.
A couple hours later though,
the wind started to die so we began to motor
sail, The Rock ever looming larger. Its really
deep along this part of the coast, but we were
pretty close (one mile) from shore and all of a
sudden I heard and felt a huge "Whack"
on the skeg (hangie downie thing under the water
behind the keel on which the rudder swings). At
first I thought we had bounced off a reef or
something but a glance at the depth sounder
confirmed it was over 100 meters deep. I quickly
looked over the stern and was sickened to see a
huge sea turtle rise and flop over on to his back
with a large gash across the middle of his shell
- must have hit him with the skeg and trashed him
with the prop. I felt terrible and thought about
going back to try to "rescue" him but
what could we realistically do? If I knew there
was an aquarium in Gibraltar I may have given it
a go but as it was, I just watched him flop in
pain in the wake of Redwings and
then turned away. Who said life and death was
fair? I hope this is not a bad omen.... not that
sailors are superstitious or anything...
A few hours later and we were
off The Rock which was shrouded in perma-cloud. A
cool breeze was whistling in from the Atlantic
and the air felt distinctly different - I could
almost smell Maine several thousand miles across
the now-practically-visible Atlantic. Coming into
Gibraltar it reminded me a lot of motoring into
Hong Kong Harbor with Redwings and John Potter at
the end of the delivery trip: steep hill(s), lots
of crammed pink high-rises, dodging massive ships
and ferries, airport runway jutting into the
harbor, and obviously, its a territory of the UK.
Immigration checked us in, and
out, in a matter of minuets and we were soon tied
up in Marina Bay... and who is just down the dock
but Gigolo and her people Gary and Dorothy! We
hopped over for hugs and a chat and could have
gone on for ever catching up and trying to figure
out what the meaning of life is. They are
approaching "life after cruising"
thought time (they plan to cross the Big A this
November as well so will be almost finished with
their circumnav) and we as always don't know
where are are exactly headed with our lives
either (though this seems to concern Colleen a
lot more than it does me - I'm easy). Anyway,
meeting up with old friends in distant ports is
one of the real highlights of cruising. Fish and
chips and bed.
6 July - Gibraltar
Aaron - The
big "day before leaving on a passage"
is usually a rush of trying to get more done than
is humanly possible, and in fact then not getting
it done, and either leaving anyway or postponing
the departure. We woke up in that mode, but by
1200 we had provisioned, gone to the chandlery (I
got me some "satisfaction" at Shepherds
marina chandlery - best selection I've seen in
the Med; they hit 90% of the stuff on my list and
good prices - recommended), and were, well,
ready. Is that possible? Is nothing major broken?
Are there no crisises? Colleen can you please
manufacture one so I can feel more
"normal"?
You know this is sort of
almost a big deal. The longest passage the two of
us have undertaken alone. But it does not seem
like a big deal. No stress. No worries. Ready to
go. I had a bit of underlying stress until we got
here as I was not sure about how well we would be
able to make progress against the negative
currents and headwinds down here, but now that we
are here on time, and the weather is looking good
(big Azores high should give Northerly winds when
we get out there and for now its still [knock on
wood] blowing from the East), I have no fears
that we will make it to the Canaries by the 11th
or 12th at the latest and can be back in Thailand
by the 17th as planned. After sailing for the
past two weeks, I've got 100% confidence in the
boat and crew.
So we dedicated the afternoon
to tourism and did the circuit. First a walk
through the "old town" and then up the
tram to the top of The Rock. Interesting view of
the harbor, but for the most part, the peak is
shrouded in clouds and one can't really see much
else (no sign of Africa...) From the peak, we
walked to St Michael's Cave which I was sort of
blase about initially, but it was really
interesting. Huge stalactite encrusted caverns.
Apparently, the Greeks and Romans had found these
and thought them the gates to Hades. This was the
edge of the known world at that time. The next
stop was the obligatory "monkey cave"
where hoards of furry monkeys, the only
indigenous monkeys in Europe, live. They are more
skilled than an Egyptian carpet salesman at
ripping off the tourists. Interesting, but a bit
pathetic as well. We then split up with Colleen
heading back down to the boat and I pressed on to
the old military tunnels and museum. It was the
highlight of my tourist activities. In the late
1700's the British blasted tunnels into the
Northern end of the rock so they could bring
flanking cannon fire on the attacking Spanish
armies who besieged Gibraltar unsuccessfully for
four years. The tunnels were expanded to 30 miles
during WWII by the allies. In the adjacent
museum, the actual last letter 1/2 written by
Admiral Nelson before the naval battle at
Trafalgar (in which he died) was on display. It
was amazing for me to read the very words Nelson
penned to his (wife?) as he prepared for the
battle in this very bay. 200 years later I am
writing our "log" here as well...
 |
On return, I was kind
of weirded-out to see our "Redwings"
inscripted horseshoe emergency flotation
buoy on the bow. For a second I thought
"wow, somebody found the one we lost
during our knockdown in the Red Sea, held
on to it, spotted the boat, and is
returning it". But then I glanced to
the stern and saw there were no buoys
there so Colleen must have moved the
remaining one up to the bow for some
weird reason. As it turned out, another
boat found it drifting 20 miles off
Malaga and returned it to us! I did not
even know it was gone. Must have lost it
in the sloppies before we headed into
Marina Del Este. Photo: View of
The Rock from Marina Bay
|
We saw the gang from
Tourmaline walking down the dock and did a bit of
a double-take: they were still in Alicante and
hanging out for a few days when we left, and we
moved at a pretty good clip to get here, where
did they come from? Apparently the took off three
days ago and tried to do a straight shot and went
right into and through the gale we nipped out of.
They took quite a beating and I'm glad Colleen
had the good sense to push us to pack it in.
So, we have officially decided
to join the ARC rally. The final clincher for me
is it will give us a hard date to rally around
(leaving 19 November from Las Palmas). My Dad and
Uncle Red will hopefully be joining us so we need
to give them a semi-structured time frame to work
with. In addition, hey it should be fun.
7 July - Leaving
Gibraltar
Aaron - Casey
from Aqui Ahora, a well known trouble shooter
round the fleet, came by at 0900 to look at our
"tank situation". Now as we have
mentioned, we started to leak a bit of diesel out
of the starboard fuel tank in the Indian Ocean
and have not used it since. The water tanks, well
there is another long story that has been told
elsewhere in this log but basically we have only
40% of the original capacity and when the fill
the tanks we've got, water shoots out the top. It
is slopping out more and more these days when we
are underway and we had one fine incidence in the
Indian Ocean where a bit of the leaking fuel had
somehow slopped onto the water tanks and seeped
in through the top giving a nice flavor to our
water (see Indian
Ocean Passage Notes).
Casey looked at the fuel tank
and agreed with me that the culprit is probably
the old off take valve for the "hose"
fuel gauge system. I thought I'd have to have it
welded shut, but he suggested just taking off the
hose, plugging the hole with wood or whatever,
cleaning out the tank really well (I can reach
that bit via the inspection port) and epoxying
the hole shut and all surrounding welds I can
reach. Then just dump a bit of resin in the
bottom of the tank in the area where it seems to
be leaking. This seems worth a try at least as if
I can get a few more years out of this tank I'll
be happy - its 20 years old I assume.
On the water tanks he
suggested that we use 2x as many bolts and put a
new gasket in place to seal them. He indicated
that he also had to cut huge inspection ports on
his tanks (like the previous owner had to do to
ours - thus the problem) and that they don't leak
at all as they are sealed well. If we can reduce
the water flow by 50% that would be a major
improvement and we could "live with it"
for awhile longer. But recently, when we fill the
tanks and the boat is sailing healed over, water
is just pouring out and collecting under the
chart table and in the food / tool lockers under
the settee - unacceptable. Ok all boring stuff to
many people but I need a record of this stuff
anyway and some people (other poor sods with
P46's build in Taiwan) are very interested.
Back to the action. As
mentioned somewhere, the Atlantic constantly is
flowing in to feed the Med so there is always a
strong East flowing current bias in the Straits
of Gibraltar. Not convenient as we are heading
West. One needs to time the tides very carefully
to get through with the least amount of negative
current. The conventional wisdom is leave Gib at
3.5 hours after high tide, at that point the
action of the tide flowing out is just enough to
start to neutralize the inbound current and one
can get six ours or so of good traveling time
which is enough to get far enough out to make it
well into the Atlantic and across the shipping
lanes.
So we left promptly at 1200
after filling our fuel tanks and heading out
through the bay. Of course the Easterly winds of
the past few days have shifted to the West so we
will have to beat our way out against the
current. What joy. It was only blowing about 10
knots in the harbor but, as promised by the
pilots, as soon as we got out into the straits it
whipped up to 20-25. We had our motorsailing rig
up: 3x reefed main and barberhauled staysail, and
moved along against one knot of negative current
at 5 knots.
We moved in and out looking
for the positive current, but never really found
it. However, it definitely paid to stay close to
the shore, we started to go out to look for
better current, and all of a sudden were facing
three knots of opposing current, we went right
back in while another boat we were traveling near
stayed out and one hour later, she was barely
visible behind us. We ended up only being able to
find helpful current a stone's throw from the
shore in 10-20 meters so were short tacked (with
main and staysail sheeted to mid-points making a
self tacking rig) up the coast until we rounded
Tarifa and then headed out across the shipping
lanes slowly altering our course from due West to
South West towards Lanzarote.
By 1700 the wind shifted more
to the North West, we hauled the main up the rest
of the way, rolled the jenny out and were
sailing. There was lots of traffic and I had fun
tracking everything on the new radar. We are on
our way with Spain and Portugal fading in the
distance and the Dark Continent looming to port.
8 July - Mid Day
Position: 34,33 N 07,40 W (24 hr run 147 nm)
Aaron - Great
day. The wind held steady at 10-15 from the WNW
through the early morning hours and we were able
to close reach just NW of the rhumb line. I want
to get out a bit to catch the south flowing
Atlantic current and more into the Portuguese
Trades which are more from the North and will
give us a broader sailing angle. We had no real
current, positive or negative, for most of the
morning but at mid-day, we started to catch some
positive current and were moving along at eight
knots. We passed Casablanca way off to port at
2100. Making good progress. Noon to noon run of
147 miles not bad considering we spent the first
half of that period tacking against the current
getting out of the straits of Gibraltar and did
not come down to our proper course until
yesterday evening.
9 July - Mid Day
Position: 32,41 N 10,01 W (24 hr run 164 nm)
buy 24 7 phone card from USA, cheap calls
Aaron - As we
moved West the wind shifted to the North as
advertised. Unfortunately, the swell, now getting
pretty Atlanticy (read rather large), kept up
from the West making for a confusing wave pattern
and increasingly sloppy going. At 0700 - one hour
before I was due to get up for my watch and way
before I had had any coffee, Colleen called me up
and suggested we take down the main which was
starting to slam on the odd roll. Its overcast
and I'm grumpy after a not-so-great
"sleep". With 15 to 18 knots off the
starboard quarter, we more-or-less had enough
wind to get by with the Genoa alone. I, stupidly
and lazily, thought that the apparent wind (10 -
12 knots) was light enough to get the main down
while we were still off the wind. We did get it
down but not till after a major shit fight with
the sail, a lot of flogging, and a substantial
degeneration of my already foul mood. Once we
finally got the main lashed to the boom, I went
forward to rig the pole to hold out the genoa
which was also flopping due the swell and slop
and our ever-broadening point of sail. I have not
poled out the genoa since, God knows, the Indian
Ocean? I had no trouble rigging it up but I still
was not firing on all cylinders and had a hell of
a time getting the jib sheet in the jaws. I was
hanging on to the sheet in one hand, holding the
trip line in the other, screaming at Colleen to
ease or take up on the sheet and pole uphaul and
downhauls all at the same time while the jib was
flogging madly and the waves were tossing the bow
up and down back and forth. We finally got it in
and the pole out and I collapsed down below for
some coffee and a sulk. I feel like such a moron
and whimp for having so much trouble handling
these sails. These are all maneuvers I've done
tens of times in the past. I don't remember it
being all that difficult before to handle the
pole. What did we do? Then I remembered. After a
few fights like the one I just had (where you
eventually only win by making a lucky toss into
the jaws of the pole at just the right moment),
we figured out that it was much easier, safer,
and more efficient to roll the jib up most or all
of the way on the furler, arrange the pole, and
then roll the jib back out. 100% control. Well
now at least I will know for the Atlantic
crossing and can look like I somewhat know what
I'd doing in front of the "flown in"
crew (my dad and uncle).
At first, while I was still
grouchy, I was grumbling a bit about the decision
"Colleen's idea" to take down the main
as our speed fell a bit and now we were getting
rolled around even more by the waves. But at
least the banging of the main had stopped as had
the flogging of the genoa with the new rig. By
noon, the rig change call was fully justified
with the wind building to 18 to 26 and our speed
improving to a steady 7-8 knots and seas still
building. It would be a real bitch now to get the
main down. Colleen is always a bit faster to
reduce sail than I am and when cruising, it
usually pays: what you lose in speed when you are
underpowered you do not really notice but when
you are over powered and or have the wrong rig up
when the wind is building the stress and
headaches are huge. Ever since our "scary
night" in
the Red Sea we have opted to sail downwind with
only the genoa as long as the wind is over 15
knots as the boat speed is almost the same and
the risks of gybing, having to quickly reduce
sail further etc. are substantially reduced. Its
just an easier rig to deal with - less things to
worry about.
So, not a bad day but not a
good day. The rocky rollyness of the seas has
made us lethargic and its watch, eat granola
bars, bunk, watch, eat granola bars bunk. Not
fun, but not wet or substantially uncomfortable.
Anyway, we are making good progress and gaining
speed all the time. We should be in Lanzarote in
under four days - I had originally budgeted for
4-5!
10 July - Mid Day
Position: 30,24 N 12,09 W (24 hr run 173 nm)
Colleen - When
I awoke at 4 a.m. for my watch, Aaron was
unusually rattled due to a strange ship he had
been tracking for two hours. In fact, I think he
was pretty happy to pass over the watch for this
to now be my problem. We had been slowly gaining
on a large container ship that we were on a
converging course with. We couldn't alter course
too really get behind him without heading way up
against the wind and waves which would be tough
without the main and Aaron couldn't figure why
the the vessel was going so painstakingly slow.
This container ship was only moving at the same
speed as Redwings,
evidently on a similar, but slightly converging,
course. Finally as I awoke, Aaron decided in
frustration to turn on the engine to speed up and
move to decisively pass in front of him. He
turned the key - nothing ! A rush of "ohh,
nooo..." through my sleepy head. Feels like
water in engine again. I suppose its just not a Redwings
voyage without the engine or
something major failing at least once. How naive
to think we could do a month's sailing without
this occurring.
We decided to head down off
course as far as we could without jibing to stay
out of his way and or get enough speed to safely
pass in front of him. By now we could see the
whole outline of the ship probably a mile or so
to Starboard. Aaron just couldn't face thinking
about the engine without some sleep. Besides what
to do in the dark, over-tired with the boat
rolling from side to side in the swell. Then, all
of a sudden, the ship shifted course to a course
exactly parallel to our previous course so we
were able to come back up and sailed right along
side him. Aaron had been flashing the spotlight
at him so we were pretty sure he knew were we
were. Immediate danger averted, Aaron went below
to sleep vowing to "deal with" the
engine in the morning.
For about a half hour it
looked like we were going to pass him, as we
moved ahead he was only visible off my starboard
aft quarter. Then the guy must have sped up and
all of a sudden he's almost heading for us again.
I did a bit of gymnastics with the highpower
light on the sail etc... I was really getting
sick of this damn boat. Another hour next to us,
and he finally slowly pulled ahead. Good
riddance, especially as there were other boats
around now to keep track of. As my watch
progressed, we really began to move fast. The
wind was now mostly around, 25 knots, gusting 30.
Waves getting very big. I noticed we hit 10 knots
through the water surfing down waves a few times.
Wave patterns and winds remind me very much of
first few days out of Hong Kong in South China
Sea. This is certainly not "fun" but
that seemed a lot harder somehow. Aaron and I
decided probably because we tortured ourselves
with trying to cook and do dishes and the
resultant "Galley Rage" turned sane
people crazy and gave us all lots of bumps and
bruises. We are now just swinging like monkeys
from cockpit to nav station to bunk (settee with
lee cloth) and back, refusing to venture beyond
the what is barely essential to keep our bodies
going. Going to the toilet is already a major
pain in the neck. I haven't changed clothes for
almost three days.
With concern over the lack of
engine power, we turned off most of the electrics
and let the wind and solar really boost the
batteries. I'm afraid this lack of engine
development put a new level of underlying stress
into my psyche. I actually tried not to think
about the implications if we couldn't get her
going again, like, how the hell are we going to
get into the marina without power. At the rate we
are going we are due to arrive in the middle of
the night. Even if we stood off 'till dawn, I
would think of anchoring off near marina entrance
and going for help/tow, but the windlass is not
functioning (another back of the mind stress),
and I don't think I could manually work that
anchor chain alone very well. Do they even
provide tows? We were told by Nito that it would
have cost him over a thousand dollars to be towed
into the marina from just outside the port
entrance in Majorca. Having no ability to effect
things at this point, I just chose not to think
about this new wrinkle for now, at least not
consciously, I know it was down there hovering in
my mind. We rolled along for the day, with wind
and sea increasing. Aaron was waiting for the
conditions to "die down a bit" before
he attempted engine work. We kept putting off the
engine work as the swell increased.
Late in the afternoon, after
pouring through his Nigel Calder engine book,
Aaron thought he maybe he could actually get the
engine going without having to go take bits apart
by working the starter motor slowly around with
the ignition thus working the water out. After a
few goes, she sputtered into shape. Ahhh, a
precarious, thankful sigh of relief. If she can
only hold up the last 60 miles! We were too
frightened to turn her off and risk water
entering through the exhaust again (which can
only happen when the engine is off).
Whew..... we are now
approaching the coast and the winds are a steady
30-35 (saw 41) and the seas getting ever larger.
As I took my 8 pm to midnight watch, I was
feeling a little tense about the size of the
following, and sometimes side hitting waves.
Aaron paid no attention to my concerns. After
staring at the seas for a good 20 minutes, I
thought the best way to relax a bit would be to
sit under the dodger and read. Just don't look.
Doris Kearns Goodwin's biography on Lyndon B.
Johnson I have finally concluded is decidedly not
at all as interesting as her's on the Rosevelts,
but I' ve got another 100 pages to go, and heck,
a distraction is a distraction. Mid-sentence I
was thrown clear across the cockpit from the
windward side to the leeward side by the force of
a wave and soaking wet, not to mention bruised
and shocked. A gust of wind and rogue wave hit us
and 1/2 knocked us on the side. I was really kind
of shaken up. I can't remember ever being thrown
in the cockpit like that before. I didn't know
what happened, and when it would happen again.
The pole was in the water and the genoa banging
wildly. I guess it really wasn't very serious,
but somehow I was spooked. Maybe I was just ready
for this voyage to be over. Not long after, Aaron
decided we could take down the pole. For God's
sake I couldn't figure why the hell its worth the
risk and maneuverability restrictions. How much
does it add for what it risks? As soon as the
pole came down it was pretty apparent that we
didn't really need it as the wind was shifting
forward. By now we have the sail full with 30-40
knots across the beam! I was even afforded the
right to furl in the genoa a couple of feet.
We used the engine-on
opportunity to run the water maker to give it a
"shakedown" and flush out before
packing it up again in Lanzarote. Luckily it
works like a charm at 10 gph. What a break. We'll
need it across the Big A. As the evening grew
dark, we were approaching land at a very quick
clip. All of a sudden navigation is a bit more of
an issue. We calculate only 6 hours to go until
we should arrive at 4 am. Aaron was getting all
set for a little nap. I was like, c'mon, I think
we better forget the watch system and both take
turns up on deck and navigating, especially as
hand steering is now a better way to deal with
the waves. He reluctantly agreed.
We traveled along the coast
down to our waypoint. We were tired. Aaron
actually fell asleep sitting up at the chart
table. He tried to pretend it didn't happen, and
only admitted it the next day. After that he
downed his second can of "Red Bull". In
my already abused body state I refused to drink
the junk. Eventually, about an hour or two out of
port, we were sufficiently in the lee of the
island to lose the waves. As I clung to my waking
state I kept thanking the gods that we had the
engine running.
11 July - Arrival in
Puerto Calero, Lanzarote, Canary Islands
Colleen - As
we approached the waypoint for the marina the fun
begins. Its deadly dark, and all we have to go
for is the flashing green light we are meant to
leave to starboard. We can't see anything, like
how big the entrance is, if there is a
rock/seawall right in front, nothing. Aaron kept
making allusions to the Great Gatsby green light.
I was too tired to respond. He was very tense
driving in as we were about 200 meters off. I was
on the bow, as we moved in slowly with the night
vision goggles. I could see a massive stretch of
a seawall starboard to the light, but as we were
approaching slightly from starboard I could not
make out what was port of the light. I was
shouting back feedback (or lack thereof) to
Aaron. I could tell he was getting nervous, but
we couldn't help but believe that if we could
make it into the port at Salalah Oman in the
middle of the night with only the goggles and
bizarre obstructions like the midnight snaking
dredger, or out the narrow winding way of the
Boat Lagoon in Phuket, we could handle any pitch
black obstacle course. When we were 10 meters
away from the light I had just enough visibility
through the goggles to insist with 80% confidence
that we were all clear on port and to hug the
light and make a sharp turn to starboard just
after it.
We pulled in, and found an
angry little security guard at the arrival berth
waving us in. He was mad that we entered without
calling. Shouting out I tried to explain in
Spanish that we tried him on channel 16 and got
no response. He seemed to think he deserved a
phone call. Hello? We've been at sea for four
days, how do you think I'm going to call you?
Finally I realized we still had to negotiate
docking up, the wind was still blowing pretty
hard, and that this man was a fool and this
conversation was not worth it, especially as I'm
too exhausted to barely even talk, just running
on adrenaline. Rather stupidly, he parked his car
with the highbeams boring into us, completely
blinding us. Aaron shouted for him to shut them
off claiming he couldn't see for the approach.
The guy didn't know what lights we were talking
about (I think he was pretty sleepy too, we
probably woke him up). Aaron had to pull out and
turn around approaching from the other side. The
security guard waved for me to throw him the
line. Thinking he knew what he was doing I did
so. To our horror, he tied the bow straight tight
onto the dock, so we couldn't complete the
approach edging in alongside. The man evidently
knew nothing about boats or docking. Aaron was
flabbergasted, and shouting, and our bow roller
banged the fuel pumps as the bow line was taunt
arresting our swing. We aren't really use to
tying up alongside into a tiny space with this
much wind against us either. I don't know what
happened but there was lots of jumping around and
hustling, me leaping for the dock etc. etc, a bit
of bang, blah, blah, blah, a blur at the time, a
blur now. We managed somehow.
Aaron is once again kind of
losing it from lack of sleep. Its 4 a.m. and the
security guard is insisting I come up to his car
to fill in an arrival form right now. Whatever
buddy. Up at the car I point to the highbeams,
and he lets out a big "ohhh, now I see what
you were talking about. Sorry..." Before
falling into sleep I want a quick wash after
three days without shower. I'm happy that the
engine has heated the water, as its a bit chilly.
I'm sitting in our shower, covered with shampoo
and soap, ready for the rinse, and the water flow
stops with the pump sucking air. What next? I get
Aaron to find my sun shower in the aft locker
full of water for me to at least rinse it all
off. Of course its FREEZING. Oh well, a brief
rinse and its all over. But Aaron wants a shower.
He spends 20 minutes trying to sort out the water
pump. He's getting angrier and angrier. In bed,
I'm like Aaron, get a grip, just give it a rest
and go to sleep!
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©2000 All Rights Reserved by Aaron Henderson and
Colleen Duggan
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