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Friday 16 February 2024

Celebrating King's Night

The most magical night for everyone in Spain, especially children, is January 5th, King's night, when the three Wise Men or King's visit homes and leave presents for everyone.

Part of the tradition is that on the evening of the 5th, children leave a cleaned pair of shoes outside their doors for the Kings to fill with gifts. Just like with Santa, children write letters to the kings and are encouraged to leave snacks for their exhausted camels before going to bed.

In villages, towns and cities across Spain, the celebrations start early in the day with the arrival of the kings, who arrive on a wide variety of means, from donkey to helicopter. Children will be gathered waiting for their arrival so that they can deliver their letters.

Later in the day, usually early evening, King's night is celebrated with very grand parades, featuring an array of floats and people dressed in costumes, distributing sweets and presents during the parade.

The celebrations in Santa Cruz started around midday, with a helicopter flying over the city announcing the arrival of the three kings in one of the city's large parks. The city was eerily quiet as I guess most people were off to see the Kings. 

Just before sunset we headed off to the city centre to find somewhere to watch the parade. The streets were filled with children, parents and grandparents, balconies were full of families and friends, all excitedly waiting for the parade to pass.  The atmosphere was electric and you could sense the anticipation of people waiting to catch sight of the spectacular floats, costumes and Los Reyes.

It didn't disappoint, the parade was spectacular, with something for everyone.  There were floats with Disney princesses and characters, dancing displays and other various characters and surprisingly, the parade started on time!















LOS REYES (THE THREE KINGS)






Once the parade had passed, we headed to our favourite area to have something to eat.  Hmm, no such luck, all the restaurants were booked. We did eventually find somewhere and it was pleasant enough, but it made us realise that we would needto book well ahead for the carnival.

The next day, January 6th is the day when families come together exchange gifts, followed by an abundance of eating and drinking 

Not homemade! 
The most traditional food is the iconic Roscón de Reyes cake, a sweet, brioche like cake, filled with cream and decorated with candied fruits. The cake is part of Spanish tradition as hidden inside are a tiny figurine and a favourite bean.  Tradition says that if you find the figurine, you are king or queen for the day, but if you find the bean, you pay for the cake the following year.


In previous years we have celebrated with friends in Estepona,  but this year it was a quiet affair with just Mark and I. After a morning walk, we enjoyed a traditional Christmas dinner with roast turkey and all the trimmings, followed by the Roscón de Reyes cake. 

Interestingly, even though I had the figurine in my piece of cake, I still did the washing up!

Wednesday 10 January 2024

Happy New Year!

The bit between Christmas and New Year is normally a busy time for us as there is family and friends to visit and birthdays to celebrate. But, this year was different as we were in a marina, on an island where we didn't know anybody. Still, we would make the most of it and enjoy ourselves.

Boxing Day is not recognised or celebrated in Spain and everything goes back to normal on the 26th December, so I planned a day out in San Cristobal de La Laguna, set in the hills above Santa Cruz.


It was the former capital of the Canary Islands and is the third most populated city of the islands.  The city centre where the historical attractions are found, was declared a World Heritage Site by UNESCO in 1999. It's often described as ‘Florence of the Canary Islands’ because of the number of churches, convents and old historical buildings. I would be in heaven!


Catching the tram from Santa Cruz, we slowly wound our way through the streets of the city and up the hill towards La Laguna. The views of the city laid out below were pretty impressive, although Mark would say the views of the Atlantic were far more impressive. 


First stop was visiting the Cathedral, Catedral  de Nuestra Señora de los Remedios. Originally built as a humble Chapel in the 16th century, over the coming centuries the Chapel would be extended, each time adding grander structures. In 1819 the Chapel became a Cathedral by bull of Pope Pius VII and the diocese of San Cristobal de La Laguna was created. 

What gives it its ‘Florence' feel is the neoclassical front and its large dome, covered in copper plates,  imitating the cathedrals of central and northern europe.


Inside, it is a very grand Cathedral.  Not quite as grand as those I've seen in Malaga, Granada and Palma but nonetheless, pretty impressive. There are nine side chapels, each adorned with statues and seating for prayer, but it was the Chapel of Our Lady of Remedies that was most breathtaking.  A baroque altar piece from the first half of the 18th century, carved in gold, it is the largest altarpiece in the Canary Islands.


Next up, after coffee and with the promise of a beer afterwards for Mark, was the site of the Iglesia de la Concepción. Established by Alonoso Fernández de Lugo after the celebration of the feast of Corpus Christi in 1496, the church of the Conception was founded in 1511.


Our main interest for visiting was to climb the five flights of stairs in the tower to see the views.  We were not disappointed. From the top of the tower, we had spectacular views of La Laguna, Mount Teide and the surrounding countryside.

The church houses the largest bell in the Canary Islands and to our surprise, it still works and is very loud when you're standing right next to it. They could have warned us!


It also houses some magnificent carved pieces. In particular, the ceilings and the pulpit were pretty amazing.  Wasn't to sure though about the tomb stone with the skull and crossbones, considering he was a captain! 


All churched out, we wandered through the streets until we found a quaint little restaurant away from the hordes of tourists and had an enjoyable leisurely lunch. 




Following day was my birthday. Compared to other years, it was a quiet day spent with Mark, but I got some beautiful flowers, great birthday wishes from family and friends and a chocolate birthday cake.






New year's eve and we agreed it would be a quiet one for us as we didn't fancy joining thousands of people in Plaza de Espana to watch the firework display, we would have a great view from the marina. However, earlier in the week we had been asked to move our boat as there was a party of eight Spanish boats coming in who wanted to be berthed together to celebrate New Year's eve. So we knew it may not be that quiet on our pontoon!


Our day started well, with a bit of shopping and a leisurely wander through Parque Garcia Sanabria . With numerous sculptures, tropical trees, plants and an abundance of wildlife, it is one of the most beautiful parks I've seen in a longtime. It's hard to believe that something this gorgeous is set in the middle of a capital city. Birds singing, Parrots squawking and frogs croaking, it was a symphony of nature's finest.















Back at the boat, we trimmed up Offbeat’s cockpit with fairy lights, tinsel and of course, the disco ball. We got a bit glammed up, put dinner on and opened the bubbly/beer and sat in the cockpit to celebrate the night and wait for the firework display at midnight. And that's when our plan started to unravel.



In the boat next to us, were a delightful Spanish couple,  Eduardo and Veronique and they just happened to have the same plans as us. We had spoken to them previously, but only in passing so this was an opportunity to get to know them better. We had our respective dinners and then started sharing sailing stories over after dinner drinks ‘un chippito’. Out came the brandy and rum and we were on our way!

By about 11.30, the party on the pontoon was in full flow so the four of us agreed that it would be rude not to join them.  Armed with wine, beer and grapes we made our way to the party.  We did get bit of a look from them, but as they were Spanish, Eduardo spoke with them and that was that. We were welcomed into the fold like long lost family.



It is a tradition in Spain that at midnight you eat a grape with every chime of the bell. Hence taking grapes with us. If you've never done it, you should try as it's no easy task, especially if you've had a few drinks. However, come midnight with mouths full of grapes, hugging complete strangers, we watched the fireworks and saw in 2024.


We called it a night at a out 2am, slightly worse for wear, but looking forward to what 2024 has to bring.



Oh, and the firework display was amazing!

Thursday 4 January 2024

Christms in Tenerife

December 2023

After a really tough 26 hour sail from Lanarote to Tenerife,  we arrived a little battered and bruised but excited to explore pastures new. With no time to waste,  we headed out on our first night to get our bearings and something to eat. We knew that Christmas in Santa Cruz would be special, but we weren't prepared for what greeted us as we left the marina.

To reach the town from the marina, you have to walk cross over a pedestrian bridge that is above the main road. The bridge leads into Plaza de España which is the main plaza in Santa Cruz, which was alive with music, foodstalls, pop up bars and a Christmas Market.  After the journey we'd had, it was a bit of an assault of the senses, but in a good way.

The square was lit up with thousands of lights in trees and the streets, on statues of the 3 kings, bells and carriages, Christmas trees on every corner and the most beautiful illuminated belen. There were people milling around, singing and dancing, children playing and riding on fairground attractions and just a general atmosphere of fun. 

We  had dinner in a great little restaurant in a little street lined with small bars and restaurants and full of locals.  Whilst eating dinner, we heard children singing in the builing opposite us, so Mark asked the waiter if the children were rehearsing for Christmas. He gave us a bit of a blank look, so Mark repeated the question again and pointed to the building.  Ah, no he said, that's not for Christmas,  that's for the carnival. 

Crikeys, if all this was only a prelude to the carnival, we knew that we were going to have a good time here!

After a good night's sleep, it was down to work, sorting out Offbeat and getting her ready to be a festive home for the next few weeks, as we had decided to stay until after King's night on the 5th January, possibly leaving on the 7th January.

I was dispatched to the shops to buy some Christmas decorations for Offbeat whilst Mark tidied and washed down the decks. But, true to form, I had to do a bit of exploring as well. I had a wander through the main shopping area and wasn't disappointed with the selection of shops.   All the Spanish high street names plus quite a few individual shops.  I was going enjoy shopping here, even if my bank balance didn't.

Armed with as much Christmas tat as I thought I could get away with, I headed back to Offbeat to get her ready for Christmas. By the end of the day, she was good to go!



Christmas in Spain would not be complete without a visit to see the Belen. It is a very important tradition in Spain as it sets out the Nativity scene. Most cities, towns and homes will have their own Belen. For some families, pieces of the Belen are passed down the generations and are added to each year.  

Unlike in England, where the nativity scene is quite basic, in Spain,  the nativity scene includes all aspects of village life.

A visit to see the Belen is almost on a par with going to Church at Christmas, with families making an outing of a visit. 

Time passed very quickly and before we knew it, it was Christmas eve.  We had a table booked at the restaurant we'd gone to on our first night and later there was going to be a bit of a party on the pontoon.

Dressed up in our Sunday best,  we headed off to the restaurant.  In Spain, they celebrate Christmas eve known as Nochebuena which translates to "the good night" by having large family get togethers and then going to Midnight Mass.  The giving of present is saved until the 6th January. 

The restaurant was really busy, filled with Spanish families and friends having lunch together. There was a great atmosphere and everyone was really friendly.  Safe to say, we had a rather spiffing time.

Back at the boat, we joined other boaties on the pontoon for drinks. It was nice getting to know our neighbours and to share stories and plans.

But, I had planned to go to the early Mass as I didn't fancy wandering around by myself at midnight, so I left Mark too it. Let's just say, he had a wonderful time and by the time I'd returned, he was a bit worse for wear!









Even though it was just us two, Christmas morning was busy with telephone calls to families and grandchildren and prepping Christmas Dinner. 

As much as I love our life, it's on occasions like this that I really miss being around the girls and grandchildren. But, having said that, we had a lovely day and went out for a walk in the evening. 

There was a big classical concert taking place in the car park in the marina, so we watched that for a little while and then went to the square where more live music was playing. There had been something on every night, different bands and cabaret acts, all free of charge. The square was buzzing, so we stayed there just to soak up the atmosphere. 

Heading back to the marina, we were treated to a wonderful firework display. Rather fitting end to the day. 


Wednesday 3 January 2024

Lanzarote to Tenerife

19 December 2023

Having studied the weather carefully, we had picked a weather window where we expected light winds for the first part of this 24 hour journey, with the wind picking up to a useful sailing wind in the late afternoon and overnight and strengthening further in the next morning.  It was forecast to be a north easterly wind which is perfect for sailing with twin gibs (goose wings) and makessailing at night easier as there's no need for me to go on deck.

I spent the day prior to us leaving setting up the line and poles, so once at sea we would be good to go!

After saying our goodbyes to Leslie and Peter and getting the marina to shift a couple of superyachts so that we could get to the fuel dock to fill our tanks (with the crew of the superyachts looking down on us) we cleared the port entrance at 1150 and set a course for the channel between Lanzarote and Fuerteventura. 

About a mile out of the marina, the first problem became apparent; the rudder on Kirsten, our windvane ( see the Rabat to Lanzarote blog) popped up out of the water. Something had gone wrong with the hinge. After a few minutes hanging over the back of the boat I could see the problem - a stainless steel catch had straightened out under the loads coming down from Rabat. I could also see the solution - a couple of holes in the hinge fitting to bolt it all together.  Sounds simple, eh?  Well it took me 50 minutes and a great deal of increasingly vehement swearing to get those two bolts and nuts in place. But we got back under way eventually, and my mood got back to its ordinary resting grumpiness pretty quickly.



As we approached the channel between the islands, we saw a huge mass of sails. Two, maybe three regattas were under way. But as we turned westwards, they seemed to melt away, leaving plenty of space for us to chug along under engine. The wind and waves were pretty kind in the lee of the two islands, so I took the opportunity to rig the two heavy poles that we would be using when, according to the forecast, the wind would veer from northerly towards eastery and increase.  And, sure enough, by 1640 the wind got up and we ware able to unfurl our lovely twin Yankee sails.

As we got further away from the islands, the waves got bigger and, coming at us from the side, made Offbeat roll uncomfortably.  I adjusted the sails and Kirsten, the self-steering gear, and turned with a ‘taa-daa” to Teresa. She had seen the hours that I had put in refurbishing Kirsten, had endured all my offloading of problems about it and the mess of tools that cluttered up the boat for days on end, and had the grace to appear to be impressed at my little victories. And now she was seeing the result for the first time. “ Well done sweetie. Very nice. Shall I get the tea on, now?” Hmph.

We bowled on through the evening and with darkness approaching, I reefed the sails to make controlling the boat a bit easier in the dark.  By 2200 we started to see the navigation lights of ships ahead of us and we prepared to cross a fairly busy shipping lane between Fuerteventura and Gran Canaria. It took three hours before we were clear of the ships and could take turns getting some sleep.


During the early hours of the morning the wind started to drop. The problem with the wind dropping was the waves didn't reduce at all, and its the sails that keep the boat stable in rolly seas. So by the time the wind failed us completely and we reverted to the engine, the boat's motion was very uncomfortable.


After an hour of motoring, the wind came back quite strong from the same side as the waves (islands do funny things to the wind. And to waves, for that matter, as they reflect off cliffs and can cause odd cross-wave patterns and confused seas that we were experiencing tens of miles from land. Ancient navigators - the Polynesians, most famously of all - could see such patterns in the waves and divine the location of islands days before arriving.) Then the wind dropped again. Then picked up a bit. Unfortunately with all the rolling, Teresa lost her footing, slid off the seat in the cockpit and straight onto the mainsail traveller, which is a thick heavy metal bar. There were a few expletives and tears, but luckily nothing broken.


As we were approaching another shipping lane and could make out our destination, Tenerife, I put the motor back on and we motorsailed the next five hours, sometimes the sails giving us good speed, sometimes the motor making up for the wind dropping. 


As we started to be able to make out details on Tenerife, the sun started to break through the clouds that marred the second half of the journey and our spirits rose after a tough 16 hours.  The wind gave us one last blast as we sailed by the huge harbour complex of Santa Cruz towards the marina entrance. We tied up in the marina at 1500 and by 1515 were eating beer, wine and crisps to celebrate a short but challenging sail, marvelling at the city laid out in front of us.


Friday 29 December 2023

Reunions in Lanzarote

 

December 2023


Whilst Mark was having the sail of his life from Rabat to Lanzarote, I was in England stalking him on Marine Traffic, making sure he was going to the Canaries and not heading off to somewhere exotic without me! In truth, it was comforting to me to monitor their progress and know that all was well.














I also spent time with family and friends, helping my daughter Alex move house, celebrating early Christmas and Margot's third birthday. Where has the time gone!


As usual, the time passes far too quickly and it was time to leave cold, wet England and head south for some sunshine and heat.







Mark had arrived in Lanzarote the previous day and was settled in Marina Calero, which is about 20 minutes south of the main airport. So, with too much luggage and duty free to manage public transport, I took a taxi to the marina. It was an opportunity to see a bit of the Eastern side of the island and I have to say it's pretty unspectacular. Very dry, barron and covered in dried red lava, I didn't feel inspired to put on my hiking shoes and go exploring.



But, the marina was nice, the people were pleasant and there was plenty of life in the bars and restaurants. It also turned out that our friends Peter and Leslie from Estepona were moored in the same marina.


We had made friends with Peter and Leslie a few years ago, when they had berthed in Estepona for a few months. During winter, they had left their boat in Estepona and returned to England when Covid hit. As travel was forbidden we looked after their boat for them during this time. When they did finally make it back to Estepona, Peter wanted to take it back to the Canaries, so Mark had helped him sail it over.


It was lovely to see them again and have some friendly faces around. They know the islands really well, so were able to give us a lot of advice and tips on sailing conditions and anchorages.





We used our time in Lanzarote to relax and recharge before heading off. We didnt do much site seeing, other than a day trip to Arricefe. Mark needed to get his passport stamped to show that he was back in Spanish territory, so after a bit of a fiasco with the the Policia Nacional, he was duly stamped back in.



After a spot of lunch, we headed back into the city and had a wander around. Arricefe is a working city, so in terms of tourist attractions, there isn't much to see, except for statues and the plaza with the main church.


However, down at the seafront, one of the more memorable places we visited was San Gabriel's Castle. Built in the 18th century to defend the island from pirate attacks, the castle is set on an islet and surrounded by small beaches of golden sand. The castle is accessed by two bridges, the oldest being Puente de las Bolas, complete with the original drawbridge.







PUENTE DE LAS BOLAS


SAN GABRIEL'S CASTLE 

By the weekend, we had itchy feet and were keen to move on. We wanted to go to Las Palmas in Gran Canaria for Christmas and New Year, but the marina there doesnt take reservations, you have to turn up and sit in the anchorage until a space becomes available. We didnt fancy the possibility of spending the holiday season at anchor, so I contacted the marina in Santa Cruz to se if we could book in there.


Hooray, they had space. So a week after arriving in Lanzarote, we said our goodbyes to Peter and Leslie and headed out just before midday into bright, calm seas for a leisurely overnight sail to Tenerife.







Saturday 16 December 2023

Rabat to Lanzarote

 

Thursday morning welcomed us with the sun breaking through thin layers of mist snaking up the river banks and shrouding the higher landmarks. The forecast looked settled for the four days that it would take to sail to the Canaries. Offbeat’s crew were keen to get moving. Time to go.



Rabat is a tidal harbour and is very shallow at low tide. Boats with deep keels such as Offbeat can only leave a couple of hours either side of high tide. We presented ourselves to the police station in the marina at 0900, got the paperwork and the boat checked and, with our passports stamped, headed off down the river towards the harbour entrance at 0930.  One last look at Rabat as we left (OK nine or ten last looks. It is a very beautiful place!) and then we felt the bow rise to the Atlantic swell and looked southwest towards the Canary Islands.


The winding River Bouragreg at low tide


Plotting a route to make best use of the winds
I had plotted a course to get us clear of the small fishing boats and their mazes of nets, and the trawlers ploughing their steady courses, by sunset.  The forecast was for little or no wind for the first 24 hours, so I knew that we would be using the motor a lot of the time. I wanted to get us in a position just outside the shipping lanes when the northeast wind was due to kick in. And that would also be enough time for Bernardo and Cesar to become used to life on Offbeat at sea. I use an app called SailGribWR to plan a route that makes best use of the wind for passages longer than a day. Sometimes it tells me what I already expected, sometimes it surprises me with a twist to the most efficient route. It is always amazingly accurate, in the short term, anyway.


After nearly five hours of motoring the wind picked up sufficiently to raise the sails but not enough to make progress without a bit of motor power too.  Cesar delighted us with delicious Lamb Fajitas for dinner. We quickly came to a collective decision that he’d be cook for the rest of the journey. This was as much a relief to Cesar as Bernardo and me, because Cesar is an exceptionally good cook and very keen to eat well. The menu plan that I started with was certainly not up to his standards. And I think it shook his confidence in my domestic skills when I discovered that I had failed to fill up the water tanks before leaving and we would have to ration water for the four days!

Route planning to avoid ships
We motor-sailed on through the night about 20 miles offshore, the lights of fishing boats well inshore of us and ships well offshore from us. By 0500 on Friday morning there was enough wind to turn off the motor. The moment of quiet when, at sea, the motor goes off and you can hear only the sound of the water on the hull and wind in the sails never fails to lift my heart. Cesar shared this feeling too.But as the sun rose, the wind dropped and by 0830 we were back on the motor for the next 12 hours. During the day I chose a point to motor due west for a few hours to cross the densest part of the shipping lane.  I had planned this using another app, MarineTraffic, that monitors the position of vessels at sea using land stations and satellites. It has a feature that shows the density of vessels over a whole year that helps me predict where I’ll need to keep clear of dense shipping, or cross their paths as quickly as possible. Some sailors take no notice of the shipping and just sail their course. Me, I like to be able to sleep knowing that I’ve reduced the chance of being woken up in order to deal with a collision course with another ship. This tactic contributed to being woken only once in four nights to respond to a potential collision.

Heavily reefed twin
Yankee jibs
At 1600 on Friday, Cesar and I fitted the second jib and the poles for downwind sailing while Bernardo steered. This is a pretty complicated process and took around an hour. It's something that you need daylight and small waves to do at sea. By 1800 the wind had risen enough to set the sails - a pair of Yankee jibs that I had made in England for exactly this sort of sailing. And then I connected up Kirsten, our Aries windvane, to steer the boat ‘hands free’, reacting automatically to any change in course by pulling over the steering wheel to put us back on course. It worked a treat, responding quickly and tirelessly.


Kirsten was our wedding present from family and friends. She’s 40 years old and I bought her second hand using money gifted when Teresa and I got married. She was a bit too stiff to work properly, and has been hanging on the back of the boat, unused and getting stiffer for five years. I spent the best part of a month stripping down almost every part of the mechanism, freeing up bearings and gears, replacing with new parts where I could and fabricating parts on the dockside where I had to. I had got everything moving much freer but this was her first test steering the boat on the open sea. Kirsten passed the test with flying colours.


Oh, and why the name Kirsten?  Well, wind driven steering gear becomes a member of the crew, but consuming no electricity, food or water and steering the boat without attention for hours - days, even - without a bregak or lapse in concentration. It's traditional to name it and Teresa and I wanted to mark the incredible achievement of Kirsten Neuschäfer, a South African sailor who won the tough 2022/23 Golden Globe race. 

https://goldengloberace.com/skippers/kirsten-neuschafer/


The Golden Globe is a 30,000 mile single handed round-the-world race for boats of a similar age to, or older than, Offbeat. And using technology only available at the time of the first race in 1968/69. Kirsten Neuschäfer’s victory was notable for her being the first woman to win any round the world yacht race. But what made her victory truly heroic was that during the race she rescued a fellow racer who’s boat had sunk 450 miles off the Cape of Good Hope .https://www.yachtingworld.com/news/golden-globe-skipper-rescued-by-fellow-competitor-after-24-hours-in-liferaft-141609


But with an Italian/Argentinian and a Spaniard in the crew, when the work of setting sail was finished, the conversation turned immediately to food. What were we to eat tonight? Maybe that steak? But how to prepare it? The Spanish and Italian stereotype of being obsessed with food is a trueism, and a very welcome one. Cesar produced a huge tomahawk steak with creamy mashed potato, tomatoes and mushrooms. Words cannot express how good it tasted and how hard it must be to produce in a tiny kitchen at sea. Bravo, chef!



By midnight the wind started to rise, just as forecasted on Thursday.  I reefed the sails to keep control of the boat (too much sail tends to make the boat want to ‘spin off’ to one side in an uncontrollable broach. Much as a car would if you hit the accelerator on an icy road.)  By the time I woke from 2 hours sleep, the sails needed reefing again. And again two hours later when the wind was a steady Force 6 and the boat flying along at 6 to 7 knots, peaking at 8 knots as the waves pushed her along.  


During the early hours of Saturday the sea was rough, with a northwest swell crossing a new set of waves driven by the northeast wind. This causes a very confused sea, with crests of the two wave trains meeting and causing peaks of 3 metres.  I promised Bernardo and Cesar that the waves would get into line sometime in the day and would be less uncomfortable. Around midday Sunday they did so, making life on board much more pleasant.


The average speed of the boat picked up too. With the foresails reefed down to a tiny 6 square metres from their maximum of 56 square metres, we continued to speed along at 6 to 7 knots, often riding down the front of waves at 8 to 9 knots, and the GPS recorded a maximum speed of 12 knots, beating the record of 11 knots set in similar conditions in the Bay of Biscay and off Cabo de Gata. Cesar and Bernardo adapted superbly to this challenging sailing, steering skillfully down the face of big waves. And Offbeat was built with just these sort of conditions in mind, the shape of her hull and keel, her weight and rudder all making her very seakindly.


As the waves marched past us,
Offbeat simply kept on looking after us

At 1600 on Saturday our fast progress was interrupted by a part of the sail control system breaking. I was having a sleep and Cesar called me up on deck, though the sudden loud flapping of one of the sails was waking me up already.  It was obvious to me what had happened and how to fix it. Cesar and I clipped on our safety lines and went up to the foredeck to rethread a sheet into the end of its pole. 20 minutes later we were back on our way, after some great teamwork between the three of us - well, the four of us if you include Offbeat. 


Thursday’s weather forecast said that the Force 6 wind would become less strong between 1700 and midnight, and was again, pleasingly accurate. By 1800 Cesar felt up to making a deliciously spicy pasta dinner and by midnight I started to let out more sail to keep our speed up. We had travelled 154 miles in the last 24 hours, compared to our average of 120 miles in 24 hours. By 0400 on Sunday we had the full 56 square metres of the two Yankee jibs out and our speed was still falling rapidly. By 0430 the wind had died to almost nothing and I conceded that we would get no further with the sails, started the motor and furled away the sails. So ended 28 hours of the most exciting sailing I have done, ever. Cesar and Bernardo reveled in it too. I’m not sure how they are going to cope with ordinary sailing after this, though.


The wind remained very light during Sunday. We stowed away the poles and the complicated system of control lines (there are 8 extra lines in use when sailing downwind with the twin Yankee jibs set on poles to hold them out).  The log records 6 hours of motorsailing, using the motor to help the sails keep up a reasonable speed. Well, to be honest, we mostly were using the sails to help reduce fuel consumption of the motor as it was providing most of the power. But at least we had a visit from a pod of Dolphins to liven up the day.



At 1800 on Sunday, after the usual long discussion about what to eat and how to prepare it, and Cesar disappearing into the kitchen to work his magic, he announced that dinner was about to be served. I stopped the engine, arranged the sails to hold us comfortably in position (‘hove-to’ in nautical language), put out the table in the cockpit and Cesar produced a delightful Sunday dinner - lamb cutlets in a rich mustardy sauce, served with couscous, jamon iberico and Manchego cheese. The man is a culinary genius as well as an excellent sailor. It being Sunday, and the meal deserving proper attention and appreciation, we stayed in place for an hour, eating and chatting. The meal lacked only a glass or two of a decent red wine to make the moment perfect. But, at sea, Offbeat is a dry boat. No alcohol to cloud our minds or make us clumsy.


After an hour I broke the beautiful peace and got us under way again.  We had been towing a fishing line all day and Bernardo had teased me that the meal would be made perfect if I could add a nice Tuna.  Just 30 minutes after the meal, the fishing line went rigid and the reel started to clatter.  I put the engine into neutral and went to set the hook but found a deadweight on the line. Then a slow, strong movement as though the fish was turning its head and the line went slack. I reeled in to find the lure gone. A 40kg ‘weak link’ that I put in the system had pulled out straight without any great effort by the fish.  A pity- I would have loved to at least seen the size of it - but I don’t want to catch a fish bigger than I can eat in two meals and 40kg (80 pounds) of tuna is a lot of fish. Who knows how much bigger it was, or even if it was a shark.


Sunrise to the east of us
the lights on Lanzarote to the west
We motored on during the night, turning our attention towards arriving in Lanzarote and getting good rest after the phenomenal effort of sailing during Saturday.  At 0500 the wind had picked up (exactly as forecast on Thursday) so I was able to set the sails and turn off the motor while we approached Lanzarote. We could make out the shape of some mountains against the background glow of the city of Arrecife and by sunrise we were clearly seeing the lights of individual villages along the coast.


At 1000 we arrived at the entrance to Arrecife harbour and called the marina by VHF and telephone. Even after all three of us tried to persuade the marina to let us in, they said they had no room and were not going to let us come in and wait for a berth to become free.  


We headed towards Puerto Calero, a couple of hours further down the coast, where a friend of mine had a boat. I had already phoned the marina, who said that they were full. I phoned Peter who advised me that if that was true, boats would be leaving during the morning, so to come in and ask when we arrived.  When we were a little closer, I spotted two boats leaving Puerto Calero. ‘’Right lads, let’s get in and grab a berth’’ I said. We put on more power and were at the marina entrance at 1212.  ‘’Yes, come on in, we have space’’ was the reply to our tentative radio call. 


By 1230 we were tied up, grinning at each other exultantly and discussing which we would have first; a beer or a shower. My vote for a beer in the shower was turned down (the boat is a dictatorship at sea but a democracy when tied up to land). Once showered, we ate lunch in a restaurant with a decent red wine (after 10 minutes of discussion with the waitress over the varieties of fish available, how they would be cooked, what vegetables they came with, if the desserts were home made or bought in, etc. These men will not be hurried into decisions over food.) And by 1700 we were saying our goodbyes as Cesar and Bernardo had flights to catch that evening.


The marina of Puerto Calero


The boat seemed lifeless without these two firm friends aboard and without the restless movement of the sea. But Teresa would be arriving tomorrow, the boat needed a lot of cleaning and tidying to turn it back into our home. So I went to bed and slept for 12 hours, dreaming of fast sailing, big fish, glorious sunsets and, maybe, just maybe, of food.