Don't forget to look up!

T'was the season to cross the North Atlantic from east to west. It was mid-December and a good many, such as the Atlantic Rally for Cruisers participants, had already left, most having made their departure from the Canary Islands, and a few, like us, who made one last stop at the Cape Verde Islands.

Judy and I were in no particular hurry to leave on this passage to the Caribbean as the later in December, or even January, is typically the better time to cross.

So while in Mindelo of Sao Vicente Island, the second largest town of the Cape Verde Islands, we matched the pace of a slow clock while doing some last little boat jobs, topping up with provisions, and chatting with other sailors doing the same.

Colourful sailfish sculpture

It was interesting to meet the newbies to sailing and hear their nervous excitement as they prepared for their imminent departure for their first ocean crossing. As Judy and I have made numerous major passages, we were happy to assuage their worries, letting them know that this was historically one of the easiest crossings as the predictable and steady trade winds should usher them right along.

So, being as prepared as we could and with a forecast showing steady winds for the next week, we headed out.

Now there is a worthy adage, Don't forget to look up, and from experience we can say that a lapse in that exercise could cause the careless sailor problems, if not disaster.

One such incident occurred as we were leaving Borneo for Malaysia when for a period we had to beat into some pretty heavy wind and seas. Sea Turtle was taking a pounding that built an anxious tension in me and on the boat. I happened to look up and what I saw made me gasp! At the top fitting on our backstay I saw strands in the cable separating, signalling an imminent catastrophic failure. Immediate action saved the day but if I had not been cognizant of the importance of looking up, the outcome would have been much worse.

And so it was again while we were making our departure that exited us into a channel between two mountainous islands. We began with a fully deployed genoa, but as the winds accelerated in the gap, it required some furling. Just as I was about to do so, I looked up and noticed something peculiar near the top of the aluminum furling foil that is around the forestay. It was a dark spot on the shiny foil that shouldn't have been there. The foil is made in sections and they are joined with tiny set screws when installed with the rigging, making it as though it is one long continuous unit.

I quickly deduced that the upper joint had come loose and was separating with the top section of the foil slipping up to expose the dark connector backing inside.

At this point, the winds had whipped up to 30 knots and we were surfing the steep waves. I had to furl. However if the upper portion of the foil had slipped up the connector backing enough, the upper section wouldn't rotate with the lower, prohibiting furling.

Well I had no choice but to try. It held! I got a few wraps, wiped my brow, and continued.

But now what were we to do? We couldn't continue our passage as it was. The fix would require going up the mast but it was unimaginable to do that while pitching in open ocean seas with one hand holding tiny screws, the other the driver, reaching a way out while being whipped around like a rag doll. And fighting back up the channel in those waves and wind to return to the safety and calm of Mindelo's port was really out of the question.

Fortunately we weren't too far along that we couldn't get around to the back side of the next island, Santo Antao, and out of the churning blue for some degree of protection in the lee of the towering cliffs. We know there was a village in a slight indentation in the coastline where hopefully we could anchor and deal with it there.

We arrived and anchored in a blanket of darkness in a deep open roadstead, relieved that there was only a slight swell that rolled in.

In the morning, we woke to a stunning scene worthy of a King Kong setting. A spectacular canyon cradled a village that seemed lost and detached from the world outside. The only access was a narrow gravel road that switchbacked up into the clouds and over the top of the steep mountains to the other side. Their challenging ocean access reminded one of Pitcairn. No pier, just a ramp.

Mountainous profile

Vivid rudimentary village

The seas here were quite calm so up I went and fixed it quickly without too much trouble. It struck me though how the loss of a couple of wee screws could be so critical...

Critical repairs

...but more importantly it was a sobering reminder of the old and wise adage, Don't forget to look up!

Unplanned anchorage:
N16°57.323' W025°18.716' Dec 26 Santo Antao Island (Tarrafal)

Cape Verde rest stop

As we approached the first islands of Cape Verde, the early morning sun was making its presence, showing us, in profile, just how mountainous these islands are. We soon rounded the point and headed in to a large bay where Mindelo, the second largest town of the islands is nestled on the slopes.

We could see masts poking up behind the breakwater making the anchorage obvious so we headed there past junk freighters and fishboats. We anchored between the marina and a half submerged wreck lying on its side, returning to the elements from which it came, the sight of which was a realization of how apt the term "keeled over" was (N16°53.016' W024°59.595').

We shared the anchorage with about 25 other sailboats, most of them like us making this their last rest stop before the jump across the pond. This was Sao Vicente, 1 of the 10 islands that make up this African nation of Cape Verde.

Check in was friendly and easy at Immigration and Police, both a short walk away from where we left the dinghy securely at the marina. As we strolled around, we could see that here had a more "African" feel compared to the Canaries.

In the past if you asked us what we would expect Cape Verde to be like, we would have thought verdant landscape, as in "verde" as in "green". However, the arid climate has left a landscape void of greenery. Did the authors of the name want to conceal the fact that their land was lacking vegetation so they used an antonym as did those who named Greenland. A totally reasonable approach, considering alternatives such as "Cape Browness" or "Cape Dusty" which would not work in tourist promotions. Well as it turned out there are some areas of the Islands that contrast what we saw with forests and streams in spectacular surroundings. Unfortunately we missed those parts.

Minute dust particles in the air are blown across from the deserts of western Africa and on the way collect moisture creating a pervading haze over the islands, reducing visibility at times to a few miles or less. Those conditions don't seem to leave dust on deck any more than the busy traffic of any town would. In any event, there is a rugged beauty to behold.

Many hazy days

This country with a relatively recent gain of independence is making great strides at improving conditions for its people. With endeavours such as encouraging tourism, capitalizing on their strong fishing industry, making education mandatory, and other promotions, it has lifted their standard of living well above the rest of most of the African nations.

Locally made boats

They also proudly produce a national liquor as strong as paint stripper made from nearly all of the sugarcane called Grogue. We tried this neat but it was much better in our cappuccino. The other local sampling was their national dish called Cachupa which is similar to a delicious stew. These 2 delights were enjoyed 1 evening at an excellent restaurant bar while listening to a couple of talents play and sing Cape Verdean songs.

Over all we found Cape Verdeans to be very pleasant and happy and it was not uncommon to see striking beauty in their dark features.

Of interest to yachties, the word was to be a little more vigilant about protecting against boat theft but other than that we felt safe. Basic supermarket provisioning is available and the local open markets provide a good selection of produce, as well as several sidewalk vendors lining the streets with their supply. The fish market is a bustling affair with a prodigious amount of large pelagic fish such as Tuna, Wahoo, etc.

To market, to market

Catch for sale

We were pleasantly surprised to be able to get our spare propane tank filled quickly and easily even though it is an American fitting and the tank is out of date by European law. The last available fill up for us was when we were in Gibraltar and it cost us over $100 CAD. Here is was about $11 CAD!

Now with the bottom scrubbed and provisions topped up we are ready to make the jump to cross the pond. Oh yes, also with a prudent weather forecast check and our respects paid to the Sea and Wind for a safe passage.

See you on the other side!

CAPE VERDE is calling

Preceding the departure of a passage, there is always a certain measure of healthy trepidation that swells up in a sailor's blood regardless of the amount of courage that runs through the veins. Prudent weather analysis helps to quell that uneasiness, however, the sailor with any amount of distant sailing under his keel has learned that the sea, and its accomplice the wind, can conspire to teach a lesson to those who pass through their domain with a lack of respect for their potential powers.

And so, once again, after a close watch on forecasts and to assuage the sea and wind with a tithing of respect in exchange for safe passage, we left Canary Islands in the early afternoon under sunny skies.

Next morning's sunrise

It was a comparatively short passage of 8 days that took us south, brushing the shoulder of west Africa past Dakar and the shores of west Sahara to the Cape Verde Islands.

Even though we were about 80 NM off the coast, the Sahara reminded us how close we were with a faint terrestrial scent that wafted over the waves and broke the monotony of the night watch. A mysterious foreign scent that conjured images of bygone years of a silhouette of a chain of camels in a ghostly caravan trekking along the ridges of those endless and great barren desert dunes of the Sahara.

And today, that same age-old broad band of dunes now lay as just one major obstacle for those desperately fleeing pitiable conditions of regions in the south on their attempted journey to asylum in the dreamland of the north.

More than once I have been alerted by an earthy scent that landfall, not yet within sight, was imminent. For the ancient sailor, this sense was just one of their "aids to navigation". Obviously today a full advantage should be taken of our modern advancements for marine safety, however as a result, I think to some degree, the modern day mariner allows the atrophy of his instincts and replaces intuition with tech dependency. And that is a shame.

Having said that, we have embraced yet another system. To those unfamiliar with the Garmin InReach system, it is a satellite communication allowing SOS, texting, and emails and is well worth considering. We had Adam Wanczura, an associate member of Bluewater Cruising Association back home act as our weather guru sifting through weather data over the internet and who kept us up to date through this new system with what to expect along the way. It worked great. Thank you Adam! (Link: https://www.bluewatercruising.org/)

For passages, it is just Judy and me aboard. There are only a few welcomed exceptions to that and one is our friend the moon. He showed up in a majestic profile with a radiance that was more than adequate to spread a carpet of diamond sparkles over the waves ahead ushering us to a new land.

Another was a pod of unusually small dolphins. What was usual though was their gay cavorting in Sea Turtle's bow waves.

And yet on another occasion, this time at night after the moon abandoned us to chase the sun over the horizon and left us in an inky darkness, they came like a naval attack in a bio-illuminate spectacle. I only took notice because while on my night watch and when I went up to do my regular groggy 360° visual, I had to do a second take at a bizarre sight that I couldn't at first comprehend.

It was as though there was a rapid fire of silver bullets streaking across our bow and out into a black starboard oblivion. Adding to that surreal display were curious trails of light from things zipping erratically through the water, occasionally breaking the surface and barely missing our bow.

Were we under attack? Was I hallucinating? Was I not awake yet or so tired I was seeing things? I've read stories of sailors so deprived of sleep that they enter another dimension of reality.

Well fortunately this weird sight had the effect of jarring me quickly and fully awake faster than the strongest triple shot of Moroccan espresso.

What I was truly seeing were not errant torpedoes but those small exuberant dolphins and they came to not only play in our bow waves of phosphorescence but for a midnight snack. The bullets were actually flying fish not having such a gay old time. Not only were they also jarred awake from their aquatic slumber but this behemoth was roaring at them. And to make a bad night worse, they were being hunted.

As they catapulted themselves into flight in that blacker than black night, light from our various running lights was being reflected back from their large eyes, made even larger because of their predicament, which led their frantic trajectory with a bio-luminescence trailing in their slipstream.

Chanty, our cat, knowing that out on deck was a fish left from the night's encounter, was meowing like an addict needing a fix in the waking hours of the morning wanting out to get it. Relenting, we leashed her up and took her out. Now normally when she sees one, she dashes at it like a toad's tongue to a tick, but this time, she just halted dumbstruck as though glued to the combing, and when we looked out to see what it was, we saw dozens of flying fish who had closed their final flight plan on Sea Turtle's deck. Our reconnaissance and cleanup yielded 91 fish and 1 squid and a whole lot of scales. Of those, Chanty had her pick of the litter.

Small sample of flying fleet

Now I didn't need to be hit on the head with a boom to deduce that just maybe we were finally in waters that could have some catchable fish of the humanly edible type (sampling flying fish is not an option given their smell that only another fish would find delectable), so I dragged a line and lure. Well it wasn't 10 minutes before the bell on the end of the rod was a dingin' and the line was spoolin' out faster than shite off a shiny shovel.

As I wrestled the rod, I could see the whopper jumping and fighting which eventually got positive results for him and the "big one got away" from me. I think it was a Wahoo. One for the fish, zero for the fisherman.

So right away, out went the line for another try. And again, in just a few short minutes I got another hit. With Chanty encouraging me with her excited meows, I landed the fish, a nice Mahi Mahi, successfully. One for the fish, one for the fisherman.

One for the fisherman

We had a variety of weather and sea conditions along the way. The first day we ran downwind in brisk 30-knot winds flying a poled-out staysail to port and a poled-out genoa furled to a third on starboard as steep short waves kicked us along. After that, the winds died down; we gradually unfurled the genoa and continued all the rest of the way downwind enduring a sloppy roll for much of it and in a sea that transformed from short waves to long swells.

Converging on Cape Verde

So after we left an almost straight track of 892 NM (1,652 km), we pulled into the large bay of Porto Grande on the morning of the 8th day. We anchored in front of Mindelo, the capitol of the Cape Verde Island of Sao Vicente.

Passage from Canary Islands to Cape Verde Dec 11 to Dec 19
N16°53.016' W024°59.595' Dec 19 Sao Vicente (Porto Grande, Mindelo)

Gran Canaria

The harbour at Las Palmas on the island of Gran Canaria to the west would take us about 11 hours to sail there from our anchorage at Fuerteventura, so we chose to get up early in the morning rather than doing an overnighter. We pulled anchor at 03:15 and headed out and had a great sail, arriving at 14:00 at Las Palmas, the northern tip of Gran Canaria of the Canary Islands (November 26th).

We planned our arrival after the last of the ARC Atlantic Rally boats had left leaving the rest of us with some space. Even though, there were still a lot of boats in the marina and in the adjacent anchorage where stern flags of countries from all over flew.

Swinging room was a concern because the anchorage was relatively deep, and in the calm, we couldn't determine where anchors lay. So we found a nice protected spot in behind the breakwater where we dropped the hook then ran a stern line to a large boulder on the breakwater, keeping us nice and secure in one spot (N28°07.788' W015°25.503').

On shore, we found lots of well equipped shops and services catering to the mariners, local, and transient alike. As you may have noticed in previous photos, our faded and patched sail cover told the tale of years of weather and wear. So we took advantage of the services of a sail loft here that did a quick job making a new one for us. It turned out great and looks so much better!

Spiffy cover

Jordan spent some time repairing the toe rail after our disastrous encounter with the Beast (fishboat) back at the end of November (see posting entitled Beauty and the Beast). Excellent job - can't even tell now!

Battered toe rail and bent chainplates

Beauty restored

We spent a day on a mountainous road trip of the island with a rental car. With map in hand, we traversed the numerous winding mountain roads through sleepy peaceful villages. Jordan was in his glory hitting the curves.

Small portion of the map

A Shangri-La setting

A cute village

Three famous landmarks include the La Fortaleza - a fortress - the last holdout where the Canarian aborigines eventually surrendered to invaders way back in 1483. This imposing natural structure can be hiked through.

La Fortaleza

Another, the Roque Nublo at 1,813 m was created 4.5 million years ago by volcanic eruption and the "hardening off of burning clouds following its formation and latter cooling off".

Roque Nublo

And finally the Pico de las Nieves where we made it all the way up to what is claimed as the highest point of the island at 1,949 m for amazing views of the roads and villages far below. Or is it the second highest as others claim?

Pico de las Nieves

Our next destination is the Cape Verde Islands, 800 nautical miles to the southwest where we expect to spend about a week before departing on our crossing of the Atlantic Ocean to the Caribbean. We have been experimenting with our Garmin InReach Explorer+, a relatively new product and service that allows us to communicate during the passage and have family and friends watch our progress. We are leaving December 11th from Gran Canaria.

By clicking on the website URL...
https://us0-share.inreach.garmin.com/seaturtleiv
...you can check our voyage. Don't forget to zoom in.

South Fuerteventura

Leaving behind Puerto del Rosario (Canary Islands), we headed further south down the eastern coast of the island called Fuerteventura to another port, Gran Tarajal. Arriving about 5.5 hours later, we were surprised to discover we were the only boat in sight at anchorage; all others were in the marina.

Masts sticking up behind the breakwater

After a calm night at anchor, we continued our southern jaunt for the beaches that make this coastline the major attraction. We first dropped anchor in the emerald waters at Playa Sotavento (Jandia Beach) that ran for miles. We pulled the dinghy up onto the beautiful beach and strolled the sand which was variegated with colours of golden and coral with dramatic seams of black interspersed.

Nice beach for dinghy landing

Sea Turtle anchored at Jandia Beach

We then continued in calm seas to another area, 5 to 6 nautical miles further to Matorral Beach at the point of land that turned west. There we could see wind-driven chop around the corner so we prudently stayed back and anchored in calm for the night; the next night we rounded the corner to Morro Jable for a quiet stay before departing to another Canary Island, Gran Canaria.

Our final anchorages of Fuerteventura:
N28°12.355' W014°01.866' Nov 23 Gran Tarajal
N28°07.519' W014°14.736' Nov 24 Jandia Beach
N28°03.179' W014°18.961' Nov 24 Matorral Beach
N28°03.171' W014°22.075' Nov 25 Morro Jable

Beauty and the Beast

When we awoke in the morning anchored at Puerto del Rosario (N28°29.588' W013°51.572' Fuerteventura, Canary Islands), Jordan said he wished it would rain to wash off all the salt from yesterday's blow. Be careful what you wish for!

All of a sudden there was a blast of wind from a squall and with it came torrential downpour. Sea Turtle was quickly stretched out on its chain and was being swung right around towards a small local moored fishboat (that we will call the Beast) and it became dreadfully apparent that it didn't have near the scope that Sea Turtle (that we will call Beauty) had laid down. We were quickly pinned up against the side of the Beast that was now rocking violently in the chop.

The Beast

We were both desperately trying to hold the Beast off but it was impossible. Jordan went forward to bring in more anchor chain to pull us away, leaving me to do the best that I could fending off the Beast with a big bumper.

The squall soon passed but not before leaving some battle scars. Claiming a victory, the Beast suffered only minor scrapes on its wooden rail but the teak toe rail of Beauty was damaged and 2 thick metal chainplates were bent inwards from the wild action. The combined power of the howling wind and the stormy seawater was unbelievable.

Battle scars

Finally secured but battered and bruised, we retreated below to a hot chocolate and cognac to warm our shivering bodies. On the bright side, the next day and another night was spent in peace and quiet.

Fuerteventura

Just before leaving Lanzarote of the Canary Islands, we received a photo from Don, crewing on Danica, who we visited at Marina Rubicon (see posting entitled Lanzarote and posted November 16th). Don snapped the following photo of hometown sailors and associate members of Bluewater Cruising Association, meeting halfway around the world.

Don, Jordan, Judy, Glen, and Mary

With a change in weather for more favourable sailing, we headed south across the strait to Fuerteventura (Canary Islands) on November 19th. Watching huge waves crashing over shallow reefs that border the harbour entrance, we could see why this is a very popular surf destination and when we were there the surf was definitely up. The seas were busy with paddle boarders, windsurfers, and kite boarders too.

We anchored behind the breakwater, beside the busy ferry dock of Corralejo Port, same as our first visit here 5 days ago, where the rocking of Sea Turtle announced the incoming ferry.

Like Lanzarote, it too has a volcanic geography. Unlike Lanzarote though, it has miles of sand beaches and even sand dunes.

Volcanic area of coast

With wind protection looking favourable, we moved down the eastern coast of Fuerteventura expecting about a 3-hour sail. But it turned out to be a day with a wide variety of wind and conditions.

The start was a pleasant downwind sail, but after an hour, the winds died. Then the winds started to build, but this time, right on the nose and eventually we were doing a boisterous tack to make good the distance to our next port.

At Puerto del Rosario, the nasty south wind was funnelling right into the harbour and we could see other anchored boats bouncing and heaving. On the commercial side of the port was a small projection in the jetty that gave protection to the large resident tug boat. Jordan came up with the idea of tying up and using it as a barrier from the wind and waves.

So I steered as if to T-bone the tug, and at the last minute as I reversed, Jordan quickly jumped off Sea Turtle onto the tug with a rope, secured her to its center cleat, and jumped back onto Sea Turtle's bow. The wind casually pushed us away and alongside the tug, making for a comfortable stay till the winds died down.

Tied to tug

Security quickly showed up wanting us to move. When told we needed temporary protection until the winds abated, they agreed to let us stay for 2 hours. And sure enough the wind calmed down just at dusk, and we moved around the breakwater into the anchorage and finally dropped the hook with the other boats at 18:00.

Our anchorages of Fuerteventura:
N28°44.315' W013°51.755' Nov 19 Corralejo Port
N28°29.751' W013°51.481' Nov 21 Puerto del Rosario tied to tug
N28°29.588' W013°51.572' Nov 21 Puerto del Rosario

Journey to the center of the earth

We had learned that another yachtie on board Oh!, from our home port and another Bluewater Cruising Association member, was in another marina up the coast so while Sea Turtle was safely tucked away at Marina Rubicon (Lanzarote, Canary Islands), we took a local bus up to say hello. They too are making the Atlantic crossing. We see almost no Canadian boats so to meet ones, especially from our home port, so many miles away is a delight.

The next day we took off in a rental car to see some sights along the length of the island.

Our first stop was at Jameos del Agua which opened to the public in 1966. (Jameos means openings and Agua refers to the pristine freshwater pond down inside the volcanic tunnel.) We entered by descending uneven lava steps, then through a restaurant in the ethereal grotto setting that overlooks the underground natural pond. The pond is unique also in that it is home to teeny tiny blind albino crabs, endemic to this location.

Reflections in volcanic pond

Further along as the overhead craggy canopy gave way to sky, healthy vegetation seemed to sprout from the harsh rockiness. A 100-year old palm lined a curved white area with a small man-made pool of intense turquoise blue water.

Contrast of nature and man

The famous local artist and architect, Cesar Manrique, was instrumental in making these cavities accessible, in the landscape, and creating a large auditorium within a large natural cavity that is now used for concerts and cultural events.

Next was the 3,000- to 5,000-year old Cueva de los Verdes (Green Caves). (It was later explained that they are called Verdes after the goat herding family by the namesake that discovered them.) These were actually lava tubes created by the molten liquid that flowed under the solidified surface.

Access was by way of an opening with large green ferns at the rocky volcanic surface, then by moving down the jagged path and steps. A required guide provided direction and an interesting auditory for the 1+ kilometer trek. (There are actually about 7 km of tunnels with at least 16 caves but this is the only part open to the public.)

Huge ferns before descending

The 'journey to the center of the earth' was by way of varying degrees of provided lighting that had us at times squeezing through tight passages and other times strolling in cavernous chasms. In past ages of conflict and piracy, local people used the tunnels to hide out undetected.

Dim tunnels

One larger part of the tunnel had been set up as an auditorium that could seat 500. It is there that an unparalleled naturally perfect acoustics is provided for classical music concerts. A dark black piano set the scene.

And the tour of the Caves has a pleasant surprise that has been kept a secret for 45 years from all of those who have yet to visit. Sorry, we won't spoil it!

Combining art and nature, it was onto the 475-m high Mirador del Rio, created, again by artist and architect Cesar Manrique in 1974 that hangs on the edge of a cliff. Through full height and width windows or from the balcony, stunning panoramic views below of nearby Isla Graciosa and the wide open Atlantic Ocean beyond. Inside you are treated to the flowing all-white and curving architecture where you can treat yourself to food and drinks.

View from balcony

Our final stop was at the home - now a museum - of Cesar Manrique in Haria Lanzarote (Casa/Museo Cesar Manrique). He lived here for only 4 years until, tragically, his early death in a car accident (1919-1992). Manrique created and designed his masterpiece home on lava fields where once again he totally combined art and nature and huge glass windows that invited nature in. He also had a separate studio where he painted.

Cesar in his studio (copied from internet)

Outdoor areas included several courtyards, terraces, a swimming pool, etc. Indoor areas included his own art, work of his favourite artists, furniture he designed and/or built such as lamps using shipwreck wood, a dining table, sculptures, etc.

Our favourite of the day: Cueva de los Verdes - highly recommended!

Lanzarote

We made tracks from Isla Graciosa, 1 of the 7 Canary Islands, on November 9th in a light breeze coming at us on the starboard quarter.

After a few hours, our pace was quickened as we cruised down the west side of Lanzarote under wing-on-wing in an 18-knot breeze, past a bleak landscape sculpted by volcanic anger.

Great wing-on-wing sail

As we sailed in the rhythm of a slow rise and fall of 7-m swells with peaks the distance of football fields, we watched from a distance as their far-off journey crashed to an end against the jagged, black lava flow cliffs echoing a rumble like that of a distant train. A shipwreck on these shores would be unimaginable.

Sailboat in swells

After about 7 hours, we rounded the SW island point under the gaze of the tall, white Pechiguera lighthouse to a flatter sea and dropped the hook next to Marina Rubicon.

Prominent lighthouse

We dinghied into the port Marina that is sheltered by a long breakwater built in recent years. In spite of it being a relatively new development, the architectural style captured an authentic village ambiance. Eateries and upscale shops tastefully lined the esplanade making it a pleasant hangout for pedestrians and yachties alike.

We were looking for friends on board Danica who were in the Marina and on their way also across the Atlantic this season. (They are associate members from our home chapter of Bluewater Cruising Association.) The designated dinghy dock was on 1 side of the large horseshoe-shaped harbour and they were on the last finger all the way around on the other side. A unique layout.

The island's bleak landscape and geology has been sculpted by volcanic forces which is everywhere you look. Even the developments have incorporated the use of the ubiquitous blackened volcanic materials as effective features. The pleasant whitewash architecture stands in a happy contrast to the charcoal volcanic stones used for fences/divisions, facades, and in landscaping (small volcanic pebbles to surround trees and plants).

One day we enjoyed the leisurely, approximate 2-km, oceanfront walk from the Marina to Playa Blanca town. This concrete stone paved walk was bordered by scenic views, beaches, and convenient shops and restaurants/bars along the way. Playa Blanca, once a small fishing village, has retained a relaxed atmosphere through the low-rise development that now services the needs of the tourist.

Walking to Playa Blanca

There was a prediction of high winds from the south in a few days so we booked a spot in the Marina in advance. Having a couple of days before that, we decided to explore a small town on the northern tip of Fuerteventura, an island just across the strait (about a 1.5-hour sail from Marina Rubicon.

We then returned to Lanzarote and checked into Marina Rubicon for protection from the predicted nastiness.

Anchorages:
N28°51.573' W013°49.187' Nov 09 Lanzarote (by Marina Rubicon)
N28°44.267' W013°51.735' Nov 14 Fuerteventura (Corralejo Port)
N28°51.461' W013°48.967' Nov 16 Lanzarote (Marina Rubicon)

Isla Graciosa

With the help of our Cruising Guide to the Canary Islands purchased in Gibraltar, we chose our first anchorage of the Canary Islands to be Isla Graciosa at the southern tip of Playa (Beach) Francesa under cool and cloudy skies (N29°13.027' W13°31.606') where we arrived November 7th.

This is quoted to be Canary Islands' most beautiful anchorage. Waves crashed on the reefs on both sides of the entrance to the anchorage where golden sand beaches welcomed us to the Canaries.

The islands here are fairly barren with an obvious geologically volcanic landscape which makes for great hiking and biking.

Jordan made the strenuous hike up 1 of the calderas but I decided to stay on the quiet beach. He said the hike was difficult as the volcanic rocks were constantly slipping underfoot.

View down to Sea Turtle from above

Descending the backside, he hiked over to the rugged west shore where the prevailing winds assault the craggy cliffs. There he discovered a blowhole. While looking down at the waves, a couple good ones gave him a dangerous close-up encounter, leaving him refreshingly wet! Check out YouTube for video (https://youtu.be/lCZ15HtTyuo).

The next day, we took the dinghy around to the small sleepy village port, Caleta del Sebo. A labyrinth of sandy streets separate the all-white, low rise buildings accented with mostly blue. Daytrippers were coming and going on ferries that cross from the further south big Island of Lanzarote.

Even a white dog!

Sleepy Caleta del Sebo

To Canary Islands

We said goodbye to the Med and Gibraltar November 2nd at 09:45 but not before taking advantage of Gib's cheap fuel. Heading out of the bay to the strait it was a nice sunny and breezy sail.

The exit strategy through the Strait of Gibraltar can be challenging (see our last post). We got some wise advice before we left that we should stay close to the north shore and head straight out before making the left turn. It feels counter-intuitive not to sail the straight shortest route diagonally across but we followed the advice and it proved correct.

We watched other sailboats that left the same time as us for the Canary Islands and they didn't know or follow the advice. We could see them fall far behind us as they headed out crossing the Strait right away on, no doubt a straight line they had plotted. One of those boats who probably watched us making good progress finally altered course to follow us.

Even though, we still had to motor-sail against a 2.5- to 3-knot current at times, beating into 18 knots of wind. Eventually we were far enough to bear to port and fill the sails for a close haul to round a point off the NW tip of Africa at 19:30.

Sailing off into the sunset

You have heard of things happening in threes. Well, our first during a stiff breeze, a staysail sheet block broke and the violently flogging sheet, narrowly missing Jordan, whipped the strata glass on our dodger so hard it blew a hole in it. (He has since repaired the broken block.)

Our second was when the autopilot mysteriously quit. It has been known to do this for no reason. It's like it says Okay, I just want a break. With several days ahead before landfall, having no autopilot was not a pleasant prospect. We have a wind vane, but in real light or no winds, it doesn't do the job. However, after shutting the autopilot off for 15 minutes and restarting it, it was back to normal.

Our third was when the GPS then quit! Our backup GPS was being repaired, plus we had ordered a new backup that had not yet arrived, so this meant we had none to work with our digital charts on OpenCPN. The solution was to use OpenCPN on another computer where thankfully the GPS worked. What next??!!

We have experienced a variety of weather: warm and sunny, chilly, dreight, and sometimes downright cold. What? you say. Well dreight is a Scottish sea or weather related word told to us by our friends on SV Tahira meaning dull and wet. We have had to run our interior bus heater for warmth occasionally, the first time we have done so since Chile, about 6 years ago. As we're heading south, we were hoping for and expecting warmer weather than this.

On a warm day

On a chilly day

On a dreich day

The trip was also a mixed bag of conditions that had us sailing only part of the time, then either motor-sailing or just motoring, the latter doing too much of. And the seas were jabbly. Another Scottish word from SV Tahira meaning uneven, disturbed.

No luck in catching a fish, but Chanty discovered one that jumped onto the deck during the night and the next morning she found it, albeit dead. She devoured it in ravenous consumption.

After a 5-day passage, we made our first anchorage on November 7th at 10:30 Gibraltar time. (The Canary Islands are 1 hour earlier so we changed our clocks to 09:30.)

Final days before Canaries

With memories of the Rock, we traipsed around Gibraltar taking in more scenes. From street level, we snapped a photo of the Moorish Castle high up above on the Rock (that we also visited during our time on the Rock).

Medieval fortification

An area called Casemates Square is very popular with numerous coffee shops, restaurants, high-end shopping, and of course regular tourist shopping. There are a lot of older buildings with history including the old police station.

Street scene

Old police station

We have noticed that Gibraltarians are very polite and always hit the brakes to let pedestrians cross, even when not at crosswalks. This is not so in many other countries.

Our new sails, a Genoa and staysail, finally arrived from Leitch and McBride and we were ready to depart Gib...

Hanging the Genoa

...but we had one more stop to make across the border in La Linea Spain. Once again we walked across the airport runway when the light turned green, then breezed through Customs with only a flash of our passports, and we were in Spain.

Judy in pedestrian crossing with green 'Walk' light

Our destination was to our favourite tapas bar, Carlos and Eduardos. This thriving 3-generation business is celebrating their 55th anniversary. Sipping our wine, sampling liqueurs, and enjoying our tapas, we watched as everyone was busy, busy, busy and so happy and friendly. We will miss this place for sure. Be sure to Google it for directions if you are ever in the area!

3 amigos - Jordan, Carlos, and Judy

We walked back to Sea Turtle in the pouring rain with full and satisfied bellies.

Chanty has a new friend. A beautiful golden coloured large dog! They chase each other up and down the dock and she bats at his nose. No claws though, just playing. Hilarious. Yet she hisses at other cats here and won't make friends.

The next morning, we were prepared to leave on passage to the Canary Islands, however the morning voltage reading was quite worrying as the failing house batteries were down too low. So for the sake of a delay of 1 day, we thought it best to bite the bullet and get new ones while we could here in Gib.

Jordan located a knowledgeable seller who had AGM deep cycle batteries in stock that would be a suitable replacement. Actually better in the sense that they are sealed and don't need topping up like the existing ones. It took most of the day and evening to do the install and top up the charge.

So our departure was in the morning to take advantage of favourable conditions to get through the Strait of Gibraltar. The current in the narrow Strait is predominantly eastward because the Mediterranean Sea evaporates more than what rain or runoff can compensate for. So westbound boats through the Strait can find themselves fighting an incoming current but they can also encounter severe chop caused by current over undersea irregularities.

To mitigate these conditions, the conventional wisdom is to head out to the Atlantic Ocean through the Strait at about 2 hours after high tide and with an east wind. Well, the weather window was now good for the passage to the Canaries - with the exception of a wind coming off the Atlantic through the Strait.

But we went for it, and finally sailed away from Gibraltar under bright sunny skies on November 2nd for a 4- to 6-day passage to the Canary Islands.