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Thursday 1 December 2011

30th Post. The Canaries

September 2011 The Azores and Canaries.


Thursday 8th.


We sailed from Horta after breakfast, for Velas on Sao Jorge. Having fresh tail winds most of the way and sailing with just the Genoa set, we experienced an uneventful crossing.

The marina manager at Velas met us as we approached the reception pontoon. He warned us that a big swell was expected later in the day. We therefore spent quite a while tying up alongside an unmanned British yacht and also lashing ourselves to the pontoon.


Sula anchored off Velos on a previous occasion.





Fri 9th


The big swell, however, didn’t happen. Not that I’m complaining.


As we were preparing to set off in the morning, two officers from the Port Police paid us a visit. The first was a little concerned that we were leaving while a gale was forecast. I explained that if we left now we would be 200 miles south by the time the blow arrived and so miss it completely. He frowned a bit, but the second and senior officer understood and agreed with my logic.


We had given a lot of careful thought before setting off for the Canaries. Two hurricanes from the Caribbean & USA would pass close north of the Azores. We scrutinized the Grib files each day to watch their progress.


Yet another hurricane was due to follow a week later. Winter was approaching and it was time to head south.

One is always anxious when making these decisions, but it is a fallacy to think that the safest place is always to be in harbour. As it happened we had excellent sailing conditions and cleared the storm with a good safety margin.

We heard later that as the gale approached, local fishermen were urgently hauling their boats out of the water. The yachts that couldn’t be hauled out experienced wild conditions, with boats surging back and forth on their moorings and the pontoons lifting a metre in the heavy swell.


The passage to the Canaries went with no more than the sort of hitch that serves to stop one becoming complacent. Here are some extracts from our log.


Friday 9th


There was a fair swell in the Sao Jorge channel, but we ran off at 5 knots
and sailed overnight just off a dead run.


Sat 10th


Daily run at 10.30 AM. 110 miles. Sun shining.
Sailing on broad reach on Stbd tack at 4 to 5 knots.

Plus this item of seamanship from Pippa.
We have discovered a new measurement: The Grunt, as in:-


(Me) “The main sail looks a bit slack; I thought I’d really Grunted it up”.
(Dee) “I think it could do with half a grunt more”.


Sun 11th


Daily run 124 miles. Sun shine & fair winds. All well.
Still on Starboard tack Full and Bye.

Mon 12th


Daily run 121 miles. Sunny and warm. Continuously sailing at 5 to 6 knots. Wind heading us a bit at times but continuing to maintain speed rather than course. We can afford to lose ground to the East knowing we will hit North Easterlies near Madera, and can then run down to the Canaries.


The new Autohelm wouldn’t work when we lost the wind for an hour or so on Friday. The old one also gave up the ghost with mechanical problems.
I set to this morning to make one good one by taking the circuit board from the old one and putting it in the new.

Tue 13th


We took the opportunity to swim in 5,200 metres of water this afternoon.


I dived in from the shrouds and while underwater saw a huge dark shadow! My heart skipped a beat before I realised that it was only Sula’s shadow. We later saw three turtles and several shearwaters during the course of the day.


Wed 14th


Several rain showers today accompanied by blustery winds. Fortunately the skipper managed to contrive to be below while Pippa stood watch as they came through.


Thur 15th


Nearest land is the Ilhas Selvagens, which we visited last year between Madeira and the Canaries. They bring back very fond memories.

We have now picked up the North Easterly winds that are a feature of this part of the world.

I saw a close up of Shearwaters feeding today. They were following flying fish put up by our presence. The birds would swoop and land on the water plunging their heads below the surface. I watched a bird do this on a number of occasions until eventually I saw it lift its head and could clearly see it swallow a fish.


Sat 17th


Land Ahoy.


We sailed for 30 miles down the coast of Tenerife in a strengthening wind.
Our chosen anchorage at Bahia de Abona was untenable, so we sailed another 35 miles overnight to the South West coast of Gran Canaria, looking for a lee from the force seven winds.

It had been a difficult end to an otherwise easy passage. We arrived at dawn off the superb sheltered anchorage, of Barranco del Parchel to the South of Cabo Descojonado. This detour made our total passage 920 miles over ten days.


Cabo Desconjnado

We had booked a berth at the marina of Puerto de Mogan. However, there being no rush to get there, we were quite content to remain at anchor for the time being and to get our sleep patterns back to normal.

When we did get there a bit of a culture shock awaited us at our allocated berth. We are bang slap in a busy tourist development, albeit a rather up market one. We feel a bit like being in a goldfish bowl. On full view to anybody that cares to look. Not that they do very much. Shame about me getting the stern line wrapped around our prop!

On our first evening in harbour we dined on board with fresh giant prawns mixed salad, fresh bread (hot) and steak. With a good bottle of Rioja to wash it down. YUM!


The view from our cockpit

Thurs 22nd

We took the bus for a two hour journey to Gran Canaria’s capital, Las Palmas. Following the coast road, we were treated to extensive views of holiday apartment blocks and miles upon miles of sterile barren landscape. Some agriculture was apparent, mostly poly tunnel like structures or huge brown netting compounds.

Las Palmas was dreadful. We wanted to see how the ARC (The annual Atlantic Race for Cruisers, with upward of 200 yachts taking part) were accommodated and also to take advantage of the numerous yacht chandlers to be found.
We both agreed that it was fortunate that we had not made plans to sail to Las Palmas. On the plus side, I was able to buy the LED Tricolour light I wanted and Pippa was able to seek out the nicer parts of town. Though in her telling, the biggest impression seems to have been made by the prostitutes she encountered in the red light district.

Sat 24th

A quiet day in harbour. Swimming and a few cleaning jobs.
I visited the local Irish Bar, for air conditioning and internet access.
Unable to hire a car as planned today. Because it is change over day!
Mon 26th

We left Pto Mogan after lunch and motored 2½ miles up the south west coast to a pleasant anchorage that we had all to ourselves. A black sand beach going to pebbles in the southerly half. A little rolly especially when a motor boat or fishing boat goes by. But it’s just so good to be out of the marina.
Wed 28th

We set off after breakfast to go to Purto San Nicolas. Having rounded Cape Descojonado and approaching Cape Colorado, we suddenly encountered strong headwinds. We had obviously run foul of the in shore acceleration zone. We reefed immediately, though about five minutes too late. I got very wet at the mast.
It was futile to bash against it so we turned around and headed for a nice looking anchorage we had spotted between the two capes. All went well and we dropped the hook. I tidied up on deck while Pippa prepared lunch.

With no warning the fierce winds of the acceleration zone found us. We were well dug in with plenty of chain so were OK. However we couldn’t properly appreciate our lunch, what with the wind a'howling, and the waves a'crashing. With the utmost care we got the hook up and motor sailed clear of the anchorage and the headland beyond. With our tails between our legs, we returned to our trusty old anchorage. All calm, butter wouldn’t melt.

Fri 30th
Having motored the 8 1/2 miles to Puerto San Nicholas, in light headwinds. We anchored an hour after low water, with 1.5 metres under the keel in sand and rocks. Just before the acceleration zone winds kicked in.

A snorkeling survey showed that the anchor was held under an adequate rock and the chain led around a couple of quite large ones. So I’m happy that we are secure and won’t swing into anything nasty. We were however snatching somewhat when the wind was at its strongest so I sent the Fisherman’s anchor down as a Chum. That solved the problem nicely.

(Chum – a heavy weight one slides down the anchor chain to give the anchor more holding power and reduce snatching)

In the evening while the wind was taking a rest, we paddled the dinghy ashore for a look round this ‘local people’s’ seaside resort. No tourists (except us) also no houses, just a couple of bars a handful of fishing boats and a few motor boats and of course Sula.
It was pleasant to sit in the shade in the waterside bar, with no bouncing around and drink beer with olives.

October 2011

Sat 1st

We left Puerto San Nicholas after breakfast, bound for Punta de la Stancia ¾ mile southwest of the marina at Radazul. There was not a breath of wind so we had to motor the whole thirty six miles. However, we were rewarded by a visit from a school of dolphins who delighted us with there antics in the crystal clear water.


Dolphin antics


Also sighted was a disturbance ahead and a large dark shape just under the water. We thought it was probably a whale. Later on we saw a dorsal fin and just a small part of the body of what we took to be a small whale. Also seen were four turtles basking on the surface. What do they eat? And how deep do they dive? The ones we saw were in 2000 metres of water.
We arrived at a fine anchorage; we are well dug in to a sandy bottom with thirty metres of chain in six metres of water. Punta de la Stancia is an interesting looking village with a hotchpotch of small white houses built into the cliffs.

Sun 2nd
After a quiet night, Pippa got her early morning swim before I got up.

Not long after breakfast an on shore breeze picked up, with it came an uncomfortable chop. We put up with it for a while, but despite having our anchor well dug in we were very conscious of being on a most inhospitable lee shore. We decided to leave in the late morning and have lunch at sea.
We tried to sail, but mostly motored down the coast. There were various possibilities, but we eventually chose a small rocky cove half a mile south west of Puerto de Candelaria. From seaward it looked most unattractive surrounded as it is with industrial estate warehouses. However, on closer inspection, most of the buildings were out of our line of sight because of the tall cliffs. Expecting the bottom to be rocks and stones we set a tripping line and put out lots of chain. Imagine my delight when, during a snorkeling inspection, I found good sand and no rocks at all until one could almost touch the cliffs.

This is due to be our last anchorage for a week as tomorrow we are booked into the marina at Pto Radazul.

It’s interesting to note that over the past week we have seen no other yachts at anchor. It may be that people are not prepared to put up with as much ‘bounce’ as we are. (Though we do have limits…)
Wed 5th

Having taken the morning bus into Santa Cruz, our visit to the tourist information offices was rather disappointing. The office in the bus station hadn’t got a bus timetable to give us! Though the young lady at the desk retrieved her handbag from a locker and gave us her copy. Now we are talking a big bus station here. 25 to 30 buses lined up. The main terminus of the islands capital city. And they hadn’t got a timetable!

Santa Cruz ‘opera house’


There was another tourist office just ten minutes walk away and it looked very encouraging. We explained that we didn’t want a permit to climb Mt.Tiede, but would like information about other walks in the National Park.

The lady, who spoke excellent English, proceeded to tell us about guided walks to the summit of Mt Tiede! I interrupted her and asked for information about other walks in the National Park. Indicating a brochure I had picked up from the display cabinet. “Oh, that’s all out of date,” she explained. “You need to go on the internet to get that information.” I sense that they are better at giving information about beaches than mountains.


Thur 6th

We got up early to catch the bus into Santa Cruz and on to El Portillo on the East side of Mt Tiede, (at 3,718 metres the highest mountain in Spain). However, on this occasion our sights were not set on the summit. Rather, we spent a most enjoyable time doing a three hour walk on a subsidiary volcano - Arenas Negras. The prescribed walk was described as going around a small volcano and we were advised not to leave the well marked track. A convenient map reading error led us to the summit before we realised our mistake.

The foot hills of Mt Tiede


Sat 8th

After an early breakfast we packed our rucksacks, put on our walking boots and caught the bus to Santa Cruz, another to La Laguna and a third to the Parque Rural Anaga in the extreme North East of Tenerife. I must say the bus service on the island is very good.

This was a purely speculative outing as no information was available. However we knew there were mountains there. Our third bus, from La Laguna, was full of sensibly dressed people, most of whom were chatting away nineteen to the dozen in German, so we were reassured and able to travel hopefully for the remainder of the journey.

The north east tip of the island is very mountainous; the highest I can find on our sketch map is 1024 metres. The whole area is wooded and very attractive, with a surprising number of excellent ‘Vista Panoramicas’.

The staff at the park’s information office were very helpful and provided us with sketch maps and bus information to get us home after our chosen walk.

We embarked on a very pleasant route that was to take us about four hours to complete. It was mostly easy underfoot and passed through forests, spectacular cliff scenery and old villages on its way to the coast.

Of particular note was the village of Chinamada which dates from 1506 and is still mostly constructed of houses built into natural caves.

I was also impressed by the ingenuity of a forest ranger of ancient times, who dreamt of building a chapel at Cruz del Carmen. There was no suitable stone to hand, so he did a deal with people travelling to other villages to trade. They would receive a bundle of fire wood for each stone they brought him. By this enterprise his dream became a reality.

The return bus journey went like clockwork and got us back to Sula in time for supper. So, all in all a very good day out.

A very good day out.



Mon 10th

We caught the bus to Santa Cruz, then to La Laguna, and the Parque Rural Anaga. Our bikes came too, travelling in the luggage compartment under the bus. At a small village on the crest of the main ridge, we disembarked and set off on a most enjoyable bike ride along a ridge with stunning views of the mountains and steep slopes leading down to the sea.

For our return journey we found a helter skelter road that descended steeply to the outskirts of Santa Cruz. We free wheeled the 12 kilometres down the mountainside with little more than a few easy turns of the peddles. Another fine day out.


The marina at San Sebastian de la Gomera.


Tues 11th

Rest, preparing for sea, jobs, swimming, mega shopping. We sail tomorrow after breakfast.

Wed 12th

And sail we did. We set of in a strengthening NE wind and sailed down the east coast of Tenerife. By lunch time we were over powered so dumped the main sail. We were in the acceleration zone winds once again and they were blowing force 5. However, the sun was shining fit to bust and we were on a run. Stupidly, I had not shipped the Hydrovane rudder, so hand steering was the order of the day.

At point Rasca, the southern most tip of Tenerife, we turned right, lost the wind altogether and were left in an uncomfortable slop. We hadn’t time to get to our planned anchorage before dark, so called in at Los Christianos. The pilot book gives it an awful write up. Brash tower blocks, less than perfect holding, busy ferry port etc etc.

We went in expecting the worse and were pleasantly surprised. The harbour authority have placed a line of yellow buoys, not to mark a prohibited swimming only zone as one might expect, quite the contrary. They are to ensure you are well out of the ferry traffic routes. Once we sussed this out and threaded our way in through the moorings, we found a good anchorage. We hadn’t dropped the hook for more than a few minutes when we saw a huge catamaran ferry heading straight for us. We were quite safe however, on the correct side of the buoys. It was a good feeling.

After supper, as a full moon rose over a small mountain, I sat in the cockpit sipping a glass of something and counting my good luck, a rather pleasant jazz band started playing in a shore side bar. The saxophonist was particularly good. Life’s not too bad.

Thur 13th

In the morning a boat ferrying a maritime policeman turned up. He was quite polite and explained that we were not allowed to anchor here. I was astonished because we were well clear of any shipping and quite close to several moorings holding an assorted hotchpotch of small craft. They ranged from a tall ship to small barges, and included one yacht. When I asked, the policeman indicated the only permissible anchorage. It was completely outside the protection of the harbour wall and would have been most uncomfortable in any swell. They obviously don’t want visiting yachts in Los Christianos. We decided to leave. But before we did, a surf board paddler came by and enticed me to try my hand.


 Just get the balance



 Nearly there


Easy Peasy



Oops


We sailed up the coast as far Pto San Juan. The harbour there was packed to the brim with small craft. There was no room for us at all, so we retraced our course and anchored for the night in an attractive cove just south of Point Negra. There was some swell rolling in but we are used to that by now and had a comfortable night. A rather grotesque sight on the beach was the hull of a wrecked yacht, now covered in graffiti. We put out lots of chain and made quite sure the anchor was well dug into the sandy bottom.


Fri 14th

Sailed, or rather motored off in the morning for Gomera Island. It’s rather frustrating, no wind but an uncomfortable lop. On the plus side, we have seen a couple of schools of Short Finned Pilot Whales. One swam right underneath us and it was only then that we could appreciate its true size.

As I wrote the previous paragraph, I could hear clanking and banging and the sound of a sail flogging. "Everything sounds much louder below deck".

Pippa, frustrated with the mainsail slating, had decided to reef. I came on deck just as she finished. It seemed strange having no wind at all when ahead we could see some white horses. On closer inspection there were quite a lot of white horses. A breeze then picked up and at last we could sail. The breeze continued to increased too as we reefed the headsail. Within two minutes it was blowing force six (25 knots).

I was glad Pippa had reefed the main, though decided the second reef was required. And so we sailed full and by at 5 ½ knots for an hour and a half, until we came into the lee of La Gomera. Then, as dramatically as it started, the acceleration wind just stopped. We motored the two miles or so to a pleasant sheltered and deserted anchorage at Playa de Oroja.

Sat 15th

In the morning we motored in very light headwinds for eight miles along a steep cliff lined coast to Cala Cantera on the south west of the island. It was very pleasant with an ancient fish canning factory ashore. Unfortunately, the factory wasn’t quite so picturesque on closer inspection.

After lunch, we motored just a mile and a half further along the coast to a fine cliff lined anchorage with a storm beach at Cala de la Negra.

Lots of swimming done today. So far La Gomera has made a good impression on us.

Cala de la Negra


Sun 16th

We pumped up the dinghy after breakfast and paddled ashore for a short explore. Not much to report really. Except that a mischievous wave picked us up, tipped us out, and dumped us unceremoniously on the beach.

After a swim to get rid of the sand, followed by lunch, we moved to Playa de Argaya, next to the harbour and town of Puerto de Vueltas. A pleasant looking place.

Mon 17th

We paddled the dinghy into the harbour rather than risk the small surf breaking on the beach. Then we walked up the path of the Valle Gran Rey (Valley of the Great King). But soon got bored with it, as it either followed the road or led through the corporation recycling plant. We found a much more interesting track that led up into the mountains, so set off to explore. It turned out to be a strenuous and hot hike to a ridge that may or may not have put us on a minor summit. But that was enough for two not very fit sailors. We returned by the same route. Pippa bought water and juice from the supermarket, but I stuck by my guns and opted for cold beer in a dockside café.

Wed 19th

We got up reasonably early and sailed at 9am. Our plan was to go clockwise (north) to the other side of the island. However, two miles off, we hit an unexpected acceleration zone wind from that direction. Stupidly I didn’t reef immediately, but instead, ran off back towards the harbour. I was thinking it would only be half a mile before we were out of the wind. However it followed us in and we were careering along at seven knots all the way back.

As soon as we reached calm waters, we reefed and motor sailed south east (anti clockwise) towards another anchorage. I couldn’t believe my senses. The wind had gone round 180 degrees, though not now blowing so strongly. It was obviously not my day for sailing, so we headed off to Cala de la Negra where we had anchored a few days before.

Sun 23rd

A quiet day at a very pleasant anchorage. I rowed ashore in the morning and climbed a hill to try and get a signal on my kindle. It felt rather like going down to the village shop to get the Sunday papers.

At lunch time, a Spanish yacht with mum, dad and a boy, anchored really close to us in an otherwise deserted bay. They left in the late afternoon only to be replaced by a large French yacht. They at least anchored a decent distance off. Don’t they know it is our private cove and we don’t like visitors?

Mon 24th

Another quiet day. However we did get up reasonably early and went for a short walk up to a small peak with a statue of Christ looking over the harbour. It was far too hot too do much else, so we returned in time for lunch and lots of swimming to cool down.

Our anchorage is protected from the worst of any NE swell generated by the acceleration zone winds. I still don’t understand them. I must do some research. Sometimes they blow like fury and another day, with no change in the weather that I can see, they don’t blow at all.


Mt Tiede from La Gomera

November.

1st

We sailed at dawn. Actually, we motored for a short while until we cleared the west coast of La Gomera. A light wind piped up and we were able to sail our course to Isla de la Palma.

It turned out to be a lovely sail. Four to five knots just off the wind most of the way. At one point we reefed in anticipation of an acceleration zone wind, but nothing became of it. Having shaken the reef out, the rest of the passage was pleasantly warm and lovely sailing. We arrived just as a cruise ship was leaving,, but it cleared the harbour before we got there so no problems.

The marina staff were friendly and helpful and soon we were shown to a berth. There was quite some bounce as we approached the harbour, but once inside it was fine. We had been warned by the pilot book (quite out of date) that the marina suffered badly from surge. It doesn’t seem too bad to us.

2nd

I started on my not inconsiderable list of jobs today.

The first one was to find a motor factors shop, and buy a new engine starting battery. The old one having given up the ghost.

I had a problem in that the new battery was very heavy and I was on my bike with no means of carrying it. Another customer in the shop came to my rescue and offered to help me. Of course I didn’t completely understand this at the time as the conversation was entirely in Spanish. Anyway, while I was paying for the battery, the man took the battery and left the shop. I was little concerned, but decided to be a willing hostage to fortune. Once outside, I discovered that my battery was in a luggage box on the carrier of his motor bike.

He was fascinated by my folding bike and called to the shopkeeper to come and see, as I folded it away and then unfolded it again for his benefit. I set off as fast as I could peddle back to the marina with the man on a motorbike following on behind.

What kind people one meets.

In the early evening, Pippa and I walked to the Real Club Nautico where we have honorary membership as part of the deal with the marina.

It’s a fine building with both indoor and outdoor swimming pools, bar, restaurant and gymnasium.

As you might imagine we have a long list of jobs to complete before sailing to the Caribbean. The essential ones will get done and we will see about the rest.

This afternoon I set out to straighten a bottle screw that was bent during a close encounter with a Greek coastguard cutter, way back in November 2008. I climbed over a low fence, to reach a redundant metal bollard, from a time before the marina was built.

Having placed the offending piece of rigging just so, I proceeded to bash seven bells out of it with a hitting stick.

At this point, a very nice marina man arrived and in the politest way possible, pointed out that I really shouldn't have climbed over the fence.

Then, to my amazement, he took me to his workshop, helped me to fix the bottle screw and said if I had other work to do, just ask, he would help me.

I think we will be Ok here.

28th

And indeed we have been very all right in the Marina La Palma. It’s a little bouncy at times, but the advantages far outweigh that small problem. A short walk into the centre of a very pleasant town enables most of the things we need to be found after a short search.

We had one excellent walk, which reminded us of the levada walks of Madeira,
only better and more exciting than the ones we were able to do.

This is what Pippa wrote:-

On Sunday, we rewarded ourselves for good behavior with an excellent walk. We cycled steeply out of town for about 3km to reach the start of the track. Our path followed along side the dry river bed, up to a church and small hamlet.

Next, we descended to another (dry) river bed called the Barranco de la Madera.

This section was most attractive; lush vegetation, a multitude of leafy trees, both deciduous and coniferous and the occasional flowering plant.
We even stopped to collect some shiny, sweet chestnuts to roast later.

We ascended steadily; the solitude was balm after the noise of the town traffic. The cliffs above were rugged rock and as we continued to climb, the path became narrower and more exposed. A large section of our path followed alongside an irrigation canal. It was strange to hear the sound of rushing water in the covered canal and in the numerous pipes and not to be able to see any water! At the head of the ravine, the track and canal disappeared – into a tunnel hewn from the rock.

La Palma Barranco de la Madera.


The guide book says,” …the route becomes aerial at the exits to these tunnels, seemingly suspended on the vertical rock face. It is easy, spectacular and also dangerous!”

Well, not dangerous if you are careful and do not suffer from vertigo.
We marvelled at the men who worked up here, channelling the precious resource down to Santa Cruz. And, of course, the engineers, who master minded the whole project.

After a long section of tunnels we found ourselves on a pine clad slope and descended in a series of steep zigzags back to our starting point. Our bikes were awaiting us and the hard cycle up was now an exhilarating whizz back to the marina.

November has been mostly work on the boat with little time left for play.
As our planned sailing day of the 1st of December (Stop press: deprture postponed for 24 hours) approaches, all the important jobs are done and we are loading poor old Sula down to the gunnels with food and water.

We will sail first for the island of Gomera on the 2nd of December as a short shake down cruise. Then all being well next day we will follow in the wake of Christopher Columbus for the 2,700 mile crossing of the Atlantic Ocean to Grenada in the Windward islands of the Caribbean, where we hope to arrive in time for Christmas.


The flags of some of the Caribbean islands we hope to visit


Tuesday 6 September 2011

29th Post. Azores.

We have thoroughly enjoyed our sojourn in the Azores. It easily passes the ‘would you go there again test?’ The answer is a resounding yes.
Perhaps in our old age, we could modify the Arctic Turn’s route and  continuously circle the Atlantic according to season. Azores – Canaries – Caribbean – Bermuda – Azores. Well, as my mother used to say, “we shall see”.

Santa Maria marina


We are always on the look out for mountains to climb or ridges to scramble and hills to walk. It’s often quite difficult to get even basic information and decent maps are invariably hard to find. So we didn’t hold out too much hope of success in the Azores. However, we were delighted to discover that the tourist offices provide free maps and pamphlets describing recommended walking routes on the islands.

We have made good use of this service. Through trial and error, we have found it best to get a taxi to the start of our walk, then after completing it, to hitch hike back to our base. Hitch hiking is easy enough, due I’m sure to the honesty and friendliness of the people.

Another technique we used on Faial was to take our folding bikes in the boot of a taxi to the highest point of the island (3,400 ft). Then after completing a pleasant 2 hour stroll around the rim of the extinct volcano,
Assemble the bikes and freewheel the eight miles back to our marina.

A pleasant walk on Santa Maria

On the 20th of July we anchored at Baia da Praia on south coast of Santa Maria. It was a very pleasant anchorage and even better, we had the whole bay to ourselves. As we prepared for our customary post anchoring swim we heard a distinct whining noise. No it couldn’t be..…..could it? It got louder and louder, there was no mistaking that noise. Our peace and solitude was being invaded by a ***** motor boat. He made the customary circuit of inspection before proceeding to zoom back and forth a few times. Why, oh why, do they do it? Yachties are sometimes just as bad though. “Oh look, a yacht at anchor in that beautiful secluded bay. They must be really lonely there all by themselves. Let’s go and anchor next to them”.

Ilheu da Vila Sao Miguel

Next day we dragged ourselves out of bed disgustingly early. (It was barely light). Handed our anchor and set sail for Sao Miguel.
We had hoped that the 50 mile passage would be completed in daylight but on this occasion it was not to be. A slow passage in fickle light airs determined that we would anchor off the Ilheu da Vila in the dark at about 11pm.

As we approached land, I wasn’t concerned by the lack of a reading on our echo sounder. The water was 500 metres deep to within a couple of miles of land, much too deep for our sounder to handle. However, it soon became apparent that it had, ‘shuffled off this mortal coil and gone to meet the angels invisible’.

There were a few rocks about, but our GPS course between the island and the mainland, assisted by a bright, though not full, moon and a good look out would keep us clear of them. It was all easy enough in hindsight. But the echo sounder was sorely missed.

Ilheu da Vila is an (another) extinct volcano. Its crater has eroded away in one place to admit the sea and make a charming lagoon. We had chosen to anchor just a short dinghy row from its entrance. The lagoon itself is too shallow for us and is anyway a nature reserve. Nevertheless, we were able to row into it, explore the less sensitive parts and to swim in the lagoon itself. It really is a lovely island. Wonderful rock formations abound and we were happy to share it with the many locals who arrived by motor boat shortly after us.


Ilheu da Vila chock stones.



The anchorage too was a delight, with a pretty town on the mainland, green fields, wild flowers, a typical white painted church and white houses with red tiled roofs.

It was all too good to last unfortunately. An uncomfortable swell found its way into the anchorage and drove us out. We got the anchor and departed for the marina at Ponta Delgada. Arriving in the early evening, the marina office was closed, so we prepared to spend the night on the reception berth.

Before we even had time to crack a tin of something cold it became apparent that this berth was not for us. It’s a large modern harbour complex. Bars shops, restaurants and a disco are all to be found just yards from our pontoon. It was the latter that caused us some concern. Sure enough, just as light was fading, an horrendous Boom Boom Boom engulfed us. The disco was warming up! On the way in I had spotted an empty berth on a quiet pontoon in the old harbour. We left immediately and secured to the pontoon in the last few minutes of daylight. We would make our peace with the marina in the morning.

The second job next morning was to go in search of a new echo sounder. The only ones to be found would have entailed cutting a new hole in the bridge deck bulkhead. Not a thing I was keen to do. It’s my policy is to have as few holes in the boat as possible!

So there was nothing for it. A replacement of the same make would have to be flown out from Lisbon. Time to explore.


 Hydrangeas are everywhere in the Azores

We hired a car for the day to explore the island. As if it wasn’t expensive enough in the first place, I rather foolishly filled it up with fuel. Instead of returning it almost empty at the end of the day, we left it with half a tank remaining. Nevertheless, we had a fair to middling day out. We saw a lot of very picturesque scenery and had a much needed, if rather mundane walk that followed a cinder track for its full length.

On Friday the 29th July we had the new echo sounder fitted and were on our way to Terceira. It was a 90 something mile passage, so we could afford to depart at a civilized time of day and be confident of arriving at our destination in daylight the next day.

 Pico in the background beyond Sao Jorge.

We had a marvelous sail, fast and with a favorable wind. But that was not all! As we rounded the Western end of Sao Jorge we were delighted to find that we had an escort of about a dozen Bottle-nosed dolphins. They did just what dolphins do best. They came from all directions, they zoomed under our keel, they surfed in our bow wave, and they frolicked. All seemingly as much for our delight as their own. Eventually someone must have called them in for their tea, for as suddenly as they arrived so they departed.

The next thing I heard was Pippa calling. “What’s that”? It turned out she had heard a whale blowing! I dashed back on deck to witness a huge whale arching its back as it started its dive. Then the two enormous flukes of its tail towered in the air before it disappeared into the depths. We had seen a magnificent Sperm Whale. We met but didn’t see another in the middle of the night. I was awoken (Pippa was on watch) by a heavy bang on the side of the boat. Pippa heard a whale blow and saw an enormous dark mass close astern. It seems we may have bumped into a whale slumbering on the surface. We suffered no damage and I’m quite sure did none to the whale.
In the afternoon of the 30th we arrived and anchored off Cais do Castelo on the west side of Monte Brasil. Terceira.

It was a lovely peaceful anchorage and, as usual in the Azores, we had it to ourselves. We were, however, a little surprised, if not alarmed, by a succession of loud bangs emanating from the local village. Later we were to learn that this is a common form of celebration in these parts.

Sadly, a fresh west wind developed overnight. We were now on a most inhospitable lee shore (lots and lots of sharp pointy rocks). Despite being well dug in with twice as much chain as the text books tell us we need, it was time to go. We left after breakfast.

But we didn’t go far. We called into the very welcoming marina in Angra just long enough to clear customs, (strangely necessary on each and every island in the Azores) then left and anchored in a fine bay next to Porto Novo. We were now in the lee of the island quite secure and able to swim, sunbath and relax.



 Lady and Bicycle.
Pico seen from Horta.


Our next anchorage was not quite so idyllic. We sailed down the coast to
Praia da Vitoria. One half is given over to the ferry and commercial craft while the other is reserved for yachts. Well, I say reserved. There is a marina and a small anchorage between the beach and a fueling pontoon for the US air force. To be honest it was still quite pleasant if rather crowded. One of the few anchorages we have had to share.
Perhaps we have been spoilt. We discovered later that the reason for the number of yachts in harbour was because a gastronomic festival was taking place.

Angra do Heroismo, our next port of call, was quite a different matter and much more to our liking. We anchored in the outer harbour the next day, having arrived in plenty of time to swim and sunbathe before the sun sank below the yard arm. We were concerned that anchoring might be restricted because of conservation areas set up over sunken Spanish galleons found in the harbour. In fact there was plenty of room.

Our first outing was to walk to the top of the local hill, Monte Brasil. Well worth a visit, it provided a scenic walk with fabulous views in every direction. The Azores had a vibrant whaling industry not so very long ago. On our walk we found a whale look out post and on the summit an ancient signaling station. It seems that using a system of flags, cones and pyrotechnics, the lookouts would inform the whaling boats about the position and direction of whales they spotted.
Sailing at dawn on the 9th of August, we had a fast if roly-poly passage to Vila da Praia on Graciosa, where we found a good pontoon berth in the small new harbour. It provided electricity, fresh water and access to a beach. We were the only yacht in harbour (though there were plenty of fishing boats). Yet, when I enquired of the duty Maritime police officer, was assured, “Oh there is no charge”.


Next day we got the bikes out and cycled round the coast to spend the day at Santa Cruz, the capital of the island, but with no harbour suitable for anything but small fishing boats. On the way, to cool down, we swam at the charming  Portinho da Barra. There was an open air shower on the quay. A local woman who had also been swimming, seeing that Pippa had no shampoo, insisted that she used hers. These little acts of kindness are a real delight.


The early afternoon of the 12th September saw us at Carapacho on the south side of Garaciosa. We enjoyed a good afternoon at anchor, but in the evening a fresh wind developed with a lot of swell rolling in. We were again on a lee shore with lots of rocks, so thought it prudent to leave at 1030 in the evening. We had a full moon and sailed at a comfortable 6 knots for most of the night.

We were on a lee shore. 


At lunch time the next day we anchored off the small inlet of Calheta.Sao Jorge There is a public ‘Natural’ (not nudist) swimming area here. These have concrete pathways leading through the rocks to the sea, usually with a cold water shower facility. A very simple and clever amenity, necessary because of the lack of beaches. However, we felt rather like goldfish in a bowl, so moved on after lunch.

We anchored again, this time off Velas.

That evening despite the full moon, we witnessed a colony of Corries Shearwaters in full cry returning to feed their young. As if this wasn’t enough we had a fabulous view of Pico as a backdrop.
On the 15th we moved the short distance into the pleasant marina at Velas
The Marina office was, however closed, so we thought it best to visit the Policia Maritima in town. We changed into our smart (a relative term you understand) clothes and explored the village. We found the office we wanted, however they seemed to have moved! Oh well, we tried!

The Policia Maritima seem to have moved!


It was in Velas that I was able to confirm the cause of an engine problem we had been experiencing on and off for a few weeks. On occasion, Sula’s engine seemed reluctant to engage forward gear. Quite alarming if one was reversing out of a tight marina berth at the time!

Persistence always paid off eventually and once engaged the engine would behave its self. (Until next time!) I tried adjusting the Morse control cable but to no avail.

I emailed everybody I knew who had experience of yachts, (and am most grateful for the advice received). The key was to disengage the Morse control completely and operate the  gear box leaver by hand. It was immediately confirmed that the fault was with the gearbox. 

I contacted the manufacturers, Beta Marine who were most helpful. It seems the gearbox will still operate if the Morse control is slightly out of adjustment, but after a while the internal cone clutch in the gearbox will wear out. They also said it was not economical to repair! Oh Bugger! I needed a new gear box.
On a more chearfull note.
It was also in Velas that we came across this rather charming sight.



 What’s this then?



 Fond memories of the Pembrokeshire Gig
came flooding back

There was nothing more we could do about it then, so we took a taxi to the mountains and went for a walk. It turned out not to be too thrilling to be honest, much of it being on a cinder track. In the afternoon the cloud gathered and soon it was raining cats and dogs. Guess who had been lulled into a false sense of security by a succession of hot, dry walks?  We were both very wet, but yours truly was soaked! Ho Hum.



 Our arrival in Horta


We sailed on to Horta on the island of Faial on the 20th.
The marina office being closed by the time we arrived, we spent the night on the reception berth.

In the morning I dutifully took the ships papers to the marina office for inspection and photo copying. Having checked in, I was directed to a second office in the same building and went through exactly the same routine with the Maritime Police.

I do try and keep mum on these occasions. Experience has taught me that it’s usually best to cooperate but to volunteer nothing. However on this occasion I naively asked. “Is there anyone else I need to see”? The policeman rose solemnly from his chair, walked into the corridor and saw that both the customs and immigration offices were closed. He re-seated himself and casually replied “No, I didn’t think so.” I sometimes wonder if it’s all just a Portuguese job creation scheme.

The next job was to get the engine out, remove the gearbox and photograph the drive plate so that Beta Marine could see if was damaged. It looked fine to me, but I was more than happy to have them confirm my diagnosis.




How to get Dee out of bed in the morning!


It came out, so it must go back!


The new gearbox was delivered in only four days. Remarkable. I was bracing myself to hear that it was held up in Lisbon.

In the mean time we were happy to taste the delights of Horta. Porto Pim was an early discovery. A wonderful beach with sheltered swimming, in what was once a whaling station. Best of all, it was only a few minutes bike ride from the marina.

Porto Prim

Another outing was to take a costal walk to Castelo Branco. A stunning headland. Our tourist office map described the headland as too dangerous to be included in the walk. This of course was a red flag to a bull for us. It turned out to be a simple scramble, rewarded with stunning views from the summit.


Castelo Branco


Once again we hitch hiked back, and this time were given a lift by a very kind lady with a small child, and piles of clutter on every seat. Unperturbed, she put much of it in the boot and squeezed us both in. She then took us all the way back to Horta.


 Others from Pembrokeshire beat us to the Azores.


While fitting the new gearbox, I took the opportunity to service the engine. It all went smoothly and before too long everything was back where it belonged with no bits left over.

The only thing I couldn’t track down was a new air filter. I tried all the local shops to no avail, and then spread my search further afield, but with the same result. Pippa tried the following day and she didn’t get one either, but said she had found a shop a few miles out of town that said it could get one from its depot in Pico, but that it might take a week. It was all a bit confusing, but she came away with the impression that it hadn’t been ordered.

I took the bike out the following day; I got really hot and not a little bothered. I went here, there and back again, up hill and down dale. I was about to give up, when someone suggested I tried a most unlikely shop not too far away. I may well have ignored their advice, but they were watching me so, I felt duty bound to proceed as directed.
I enquired within and showed them the old filter.
“Oh, Mr.de Mengel,” he replied and handed me a package containing the elusive filter.


The 1st of September was Pippa’s birthday. We went for a bike ride and watched a considerable swell crashing into a small fishing harbour. Young boys and a couple of girls were diving from the breakwater into the breaking waves and body surfing into the beach. We were much too grown up and sensible to join them. I never did like coasteering much anyway.

That evening we treated ourselves to a superb ‘Cataplana’ in an open air seafront restaurant in Porto Pim. The meal was a shared cauldron of various white fish, shell fish, potatoes and other vegetables in a delicious stock. Washed down with a bottle of white wine from Pico. Wonderful!


The quiet anchorage at Velas.

It’s September and our time left in the Azores is sadly running out. We have yet to visit Pico but hope to do so soon.

The Hurricanes currently bashing the Caribbean and USA while not affecting us directly have pushed the Azores High a bit out of kilter. Instead of having northerly or north east winds they are southerly or south easterly. That would mean head winds on the way to the Canaries. Not what we want at all.

So we will just have to chill out, enjoy these lovely islands, open a cold tinny and go for a swim, while we wait for better winds.
Sailing can be such a hard life sometimes!