A touch of fog...

Tues May 5^th

We left the dock waving a sad g'bye to Robin and Jac as they continued with putting Blackthorn back together in preparation for their summer aboard. We sailed and motored slowly up river and out into the bay, seeing very little traffic and shaped our course for the entrance to Buzzards Bay. Before too long a breeze came in and we were soon bowling along at 6knots having benefited from a 4 day haul out and anti-foul. Day slipped into night and we were joined by a big red moon and it felt good to be back at sea and heading north. The first couple of days went well, the nights enlivened by 14 strong fishing fleets we eased our way through. The only issue we seemed to have was the self-steerer didn't seem as responsive as usual and we were reduced to steering by hand on a number of occasions. It would be some days before we checked it and found a part had been bent causing it to stick on part of the framework. Reversing the part cured it and we have subsequently had it rebuilt in Belfast, Maine.

On the 7^th the fog came in and we crept slowly forward but mostly drifted. Sometime it would lift a little and we saw puffins and whales nearby. But mostly the fog lay all around us; visibility often as little as 100 metres but mostly around 500-800 metres. 

Fog

 We were far enough off shore not be too concerned about tugs etc but as we approached, at night, the northern most Traffic Separation Lane running into New York we could hear foghorns and see the traffic on AIS. We hove to to await morning and the vain hope it may have lifted. It didn't of course but it felt a little easier to be crossing the lane in daylight. With little wind and no sun we motored from time to time to charge batteries; it also enabled us to run the radar but the dense, dreary and dripping fog continued. We decided to head outside Nantucket rather than go through Buzzards Bay as drifting in light winds would be easier. 

Fog

A wise choice as we heard the forecast of 22knots inside the bay with zero visibility whilst we only had 10knots and limited viz. The following day they actually closed the Canal after Northern Right Whales had been spotted in it and several hours passed before we heard it was reopened. The fog continued. We worked our way around Nantucket and turned for Maine, the fog finally cleared on Tuesday May 12 when we were some 40 miles from Isle Au Haut and the wind, which had been in a general SW direction switched to the NW and picked up. So the last bit was more on the nose than we wanted and dictated a change of venue but we were so glad to be back in Maine that it didn't matter. We slid into Moores Hbr on Isle Au Haut around 8pm on Wed 13^th May some 729 nm and 91/2 days after we left Portsmouth. Whilst open to the SW, the harbour offers great protection from northerly quadrant winds; good mud, silence broken only by the call of a loon and the place to ourselves. It doesn't get any better.

The following day we sailed up to Belfast via the Fox Island Thoroughfare; some beating but mostly just sunshine and emotion as we cruised up Penobscot Bay; passing the Camden Hills, Isleboro and so many places we are familiar with. A call to the Belfast Harbour had Kathy, the harbour-master, on the radio welcoming us in and by 6 pm we were tied up, greeted and so glad to be “home”

We've been here 14 days, seen friends we haven't seen for 3 years, wondered where the time has gone and made plans to leave.... the permit we have for the US expires in the middle of June; the ice seems to have cleared from Belle Isle Strait other than a few 'bergs and Greenland is the summer destination so a fair bit of sailing over the next 5 months.

With the passing of miles our main had become thinner and we were reduced to spraying adhesive onto the main and a patch then pressing them together. Luckily we had some spare material and a local sailmaker in Norfolk cut out the worst of the sail and added a new piece. Here in Belfast we have had another sailmaker repair the #1 and add a patch to the stays'l, so all is well we think. 

Belfast, Maine

Out of the heat and north to sanity

Some time has passed since we posted from Guadalupe and we have moved, thankfully, north and out of the Caribbean. We sailed up to St Barts and spent a few days at anchor at the north of the island but St B's isn't a place we'd recommend. The harbour is large, busy and dominated by super-yachts, huge privately owned ships that seem totally out of place. On to the BVI where we caught a ferry to St Johns USVI and got stamped into the USA. Our 90 day ticket had begun and all we needed was a good weather window. None was forth coming but with our BVI visa soon to expire we gladly upped the anchor and sailed out. That the Caribbean north of Guadalupe is popular can't be denied but we're at a loss to understand or appreciate why it should be. Overcrowded and expensive (except for rum) we felt nothing but relief as we saw the islands fade astern of us. In many ways we were lucky we felt that way; lucky that we were heading north to cooler climes and more interesting scenery as the winds were fickle and difficult. Originally we thought we might follow the channel and come up between the Bahamas and Cuba/DR but opted for a more direct route ie head straight for Cape Henry and the Chesapeake. The wind gave us a good start as we covered 111 nm on the first 24 hours but after that the mileage fell as we struggled to make distances. 6 nm in 4 hours was not uncommon and the days began to mount up. We began picking up the NOAA weather on the SSB and after 2 weeks heard of strong winds from Maine and southwards. 45-50knots got my attention very quickly but it was all a long way north and I relaxed. 

The advantage of the Bahamas route as I saw it was the chance to pick up the Gulf Stream and benefit from it whereas the route we were on meant we needed to cross it in the Cape Hatteras region and time it with a favourable wind. Not a relaxed ship as we slid closer to the Stream and the forecasts varied but in the end, as so often happens, the fear of what might happen is washed away but what did. Which was nothing. The wind was light and favourable and whilst we sometimes ran into turbulent seas caused, I think, by eddies colliding it was soon over. For the whole trip we'd been thinking that once we arrived at Cape Hatteras our journey was over but we still had well over 100nm to go so the last section dragged and dragged to the point that we motored when winds speeds dropped and the tide threatened to send us southwards. Finally 21 days, 9 hours after we left the BVI we dropped the hook off Hospital Point and slept.

The following we day we rowed into see R&J our partners in drunken nights, cadge a lift with them to Homeland Security and the test of whether the Visa Waiver entry would work on mainland USA. It does although not without close questioning on how we entered the US in the first place etc. So a result – we were in and as long as we leave within 90 days everything will be hunkydory.

Since we arrived we've hauled, repainted and done various jobs, splashed back in and are patiently waiting a window to get us up to Buzzards Bay and beyond. The “plan” had us leaving by the end of April so only a few days late if we get away on Monday. R&J should haul in the next day or so and then commence their journey back to Europe; Russ and Alison came down to visit in their new (to them) Hans Christian and are making decisions about when and where to go, Olly has arrived in Bermuda and is psyching himself up for the return Atlantic trip so all is well in our world.

The dock where we're tied up is in downtown Portsmouth and close to the Portsmouth-Norfolk ferry. People stroll by,sometimes stop and ask about the boat, where we've come from ...you never crossed the ocean in that!!? is a regular comment. Today we had a couple say “isn't that Martin and Roma's boat” something we haven't heard for a good number of years.

Whilst it isn't a plan we do have two alternatives to the next 6 months. One is sail up to Maine/Nova Scotia and head back to the UK/Europe and the other is to head north to Greenland for the summer and return via Baffin and down to a dock near Annapolis that Steve and Luanne have offered us for the winter. We'll keep our options open. 

Any guesses?

 Portsmouth, VA

It ain't over 'til the fat lady sings....

Another month goes by as we languish in the heat of the Caribbean and have moved a few miles further north to Guadeloupe, made up our minds and changed them innumerable times, despaired at the anchoring techniques displayed and met up with old friends from years back. First the negative.

If we thought Fort de France was tight, the anchorage off Deshaies is often unreal. We arrived one late afternoon to find the bay very crowded and the safest water was too deep for comfort at 20 metres so we went a few hundred yards further north and shared a much larger bay with one superyacht. Long sandy beach, few people (although we later found it had numerous bars further along). The following morning, having watched 10 sails disappear north toward Antigua we upped anchor and found ourselves a spot off the village in the first bay. If it has a drawback it is the wind that funnels down from high hills and accelerates across the anchorage causing mayhem with those who either haven't anchored well or anchors are too light. One such incident was a charter boat that anchored too close to us. We pointed out that when we stretched out we were likely to catch them with our self-steerer. They suggested they could lay out more chain...sure we said how much do you have out....20 metres was the reply...but we're in 12 metres of water we said. They moved onto a buoy. And so it would go on. The anchorage would fill up and the late comers insisted on motoring through the boats determined to find a small spot they could squeeze into irrespective of scope or proximity of hull shape of their neighbour. Initially I would warn boats in no uncertain terms that they were fouling our anchor or chain but of late I've given up. In Fort de France a guy who anchored between us and another boat was told he was over our chain. He told me my anchor was somewhere else and if he was in the way he would move if needed. When we left the following day, despite warning them we were off, he chose to nap. Bee started winching the chain up creeping ever closer to the offending boat. With 3 metres to go before we hit them we still had 20 metres out and kept going as by then I had had enough. The bowsprit, always a sure fire way of getting folks attention, touched their sunshade and galvanised them into action as he was dragged from his bed and motored out of the way. Yesterday we noticed a boat drifting out to sea and realised it was couple we had met a few hours earlier. They had a problem with their engine so had little chance other than to sail back in. As nothing seemed to be happening Bee hailed a rib off a big charter cat and luckily found the perfect guy for the task. For one he'd been running the boat as its skipper for 10 years and the rib had a 70hp engine. It has to be said that Bee is unable to see folks struggling if we can assist … my experience had been that few seem to be bothered about helping and would simply say no to a request. As ever she persevered. We dumped ropes for towing into the rib and sped off and I mean sped! Jeez when you're used to rowing a dinghy to be suddenly hurtling across the waves at at 30 knots is unreal. Paul, the guy who had agreed to help, got us both out there and we set about helping the couple to get the boat back in. Obviously the seas were lumpier but the wind was still 25 – 30 knots, the boat weighed about 13 tons and Paul had doubts about being able to do the job. In the event he made the tow look so easy as we made our way into a more sheltered part. But the boat dragged again and again as the anchor appeared to hold and then gradually let go. Through the night we'd get up to monitor their progress and finally around 4am they got in close enough to drop and hold. I can only imagine they must have worked out the engine problem and sorted it. Too often we have seen boats anchoring in strong wind conditions getting blown rapidly sideways as they begin to lay out the chain. Nothing wrong with that but the combination of a light boat; no forefoot and electric windless seem to be a disastrous one as the boat moves faster than the chain can be laid out unless the windless can go into freefall and consequently it ends up a long way from where the anchor was dropped. I know I've laboured the point before but the anchor is the one thing you should invest in – it might seem like a lot of money but when the wind is howling with no sign of a let up knowing you're securely dug in with little chance of breaking out is worth every penny. And disregard what folks say about weights in relation to your boat – even our much loved Rocna say we'd be more than covered with a 25kg so with a 33kg we might be considered over the top. Yet we're in 13 metres with 50 metres out and solid. We've seen boats hauling in 60 metres and more and dragging (though not with a Rocna)

The positive. My sister and her husband sailed into Fort de France a month or so back and we had the chance to check out their boat. In fact we took great delight in rowing past our neighbours and saying we were going to visit their (sister's) boat, an Oyster 54. Their jaws would drop as they try to connect this scruffy gaffer with this pristine yacht! Paul and Trish welcomed us aboard with cold drinks, showers and the use of the washing machine! The contrast between our cruising life is summed up in that sentence really and after the first visit we returned to Hannah and realised how “difficult” we had made our life. Having said that even if we could afford an Oyster (hah!!!) it probably wouldn't suit us, although Paul & Trish are the most generous people you could meet and as far from the sort of person you might think would own such a boat as it is possible to be. Apart from the deep pockets obviously.

So Hannah is up for sale, many thanks to all those who have written to us about the decision and the kind words. Thanks too to the friends who offered to help move Hannah along the way. Bee, after returning from a 3 week break in the UK knows that the 365 day boat life is not for her any more but we're going to move Hannah back to the UK together and planning a last trip north to finish on a high. At this stage we're not sure how far north but out of the Caribbean asap. It seems there is a way to enter the USA using the ESTA scheme (see here) which we're going to check out and will report on in due course. Or if you have experience of the scheme perhaps you might let us know?

The gusts are continuing, some boats leave trying to get to Antigua before the weather gets worse tomorrow (Wed 4 March) and more arrive, glad to be in. Over the days we've had a succession of big boats arrive, numerous charter boats and a fair few superyachts. Cronos is a Dutch registered stays'l schooner with guests. Two crew came over to admire Hannah and in response to a question as to whether they had any spare ice promised to return with some. Half hour later the rib returned with a large plastic bag full of the stuff! A week later they returned to the anchorage and this time the rib came straight over with a bag of ice – the joys of having an eye-catching boat! In Fort de France as we left the anchorage we motored past a yacht about 120' long; 3 crew on deck in matching attire. The boat was spotless and very expensive. The crew waved to us and we said we were delivering our boat to them as the owner had agreed to a straight swap....the guy smiled and said “Hold on I'll just ask him” and spoke down a hatch to someone below. A guy appeared at the companionway, phone in hand, broke off the conversation he was having as I called out “Thought we might swap – got a Bill of Sale in my pocket”, grinned at us said “mebbe next time” and went back to his call. No idea on these things really but if he got any change out of $20milllion I'd be surprised.

And finally. 3 things have made me pause about Hannah's future. One was looking on the AIS live site at where Europa, the Dutch sail training ship we shared an anchorage with at Cascais. It's tied up in Ushuaia..... The second, reading Roger Taylor's (The Simple Sailor) account of his non stop trip up to Svalbard down to Jan Mayan island, then a wander across toward the east coast of Greenland and back to the UK in a small junk rigged boat; all in a couple of months because Mr Taylor doesn't bother with shore going but simply sails for the hell of it. Lastly today we had our first prospective buyers and as I took them through the boat, talked up the virtues etc I found myself thinking...I'm not sure I can go ahead with this. A later conversation with Bee revealed she had much the same feeling....it ain't over 'til the fat lady sings.

Deshaies
Guadeloupe

Adventurous sailors wanted...

The time has come when, sadly, we need to sell Hannah and are putting the boat up for sale. After 14 years, 5 Atlantics and some 70,000nm Bee has finally called it a day and needs to do other things and who can blame her. As I approach 67 I know I can't handle the boat on my own and rather than sit around we'd prefer someone else take the boat on. Hannah is NOT a “consumer cruising” crammed floating palace but everything you need, in our view, for a solid, interesting and attainable way of life (other than money of course) is within the sturdy hull,

JAN 2016.After we finished the Buttons trip we thought about what we might do. Selling Hannah was NOT high on the list so, for the moment, we're intending to keep going. I'll leave this page up because we might, at some point, decide to sell. 

Yola racing - Martinique

This past weekend has seen some keen racing of these boats each coming from a different island. On the Sunday morning a path was cleared through the anchorage. Not that it appeared to make much difference as the boats came charging through anchored boats causing a wild mixture of alarm and excitement. Little did we know! 

It was a two lap race and whilst steering the boat is done via a tiller it also doubles as a paddle when they tack to help push the bow around. 3 men to a tiller whilst the rest act as mobile and agile ballast. One person seems to control the mainsheet. The crews are vociferous to say the least, yelling instructions to the helm, each other whilst trying to keep the boat upright. 

 Open boats they need to be constantly bailed and with no side decks it is easy enough to get it wrong and flood the boat, dumping everyone in the water. The winning crew, on both races,came from Caracou and were joy to watch. No shouting just concentration they led the first race from the start but lost the lead on the second lap of the second race. The two lead boats were close but it looked as though Caracou would lose. The lead boat opted for the shorter line which took it closer to the fort which dominates the anchorage and causes a wind shadow. The second boat chose to rattle through the anchorage , maintained the wind and crossed the line seconds ahead. Exciting and colourful to watch at close quarters. 

The winning crew

 

poles are shifted rapidly from one side to the other as required

(below) The guy in the centre of the boat is controlling the main and they managed to keep sailing, despite the hull being under water, and crossed the line some 50 metres away..

 

 This yole came close to shoving one of the poles through the cabin window....rapid action from Jason got them away.

…...well, at least we're moving...

and so it became both the mantra and epitaph of this trip and this life. But first the trip.

Toots in her sea-berth logging up 66,000 miles

We left Rosario on Sunday 23^rd Nov with a favourable forecast. For the first week or so we made good progress south and then edged toward the SW as we worked away from the Canaries toward the Verdes and the hoped for steady Trades. I'd been looking at Passage Weather since we'd been on the Guadiana and the winds seemed consistent; perhaps not 20knots but steady enough for us to log 110 -120 mile days. 






 

Good enough to knock us along at 5k+ & get power

By the first week of Dec those daily runs began to drop by 20 miles or more. Boats from the ARC had passed us and we garnered weather info from them. Nothing exciting and we carried on. By the 3rd week we appeared to have entered an area of high pressure and daily runs dropped to 40-60 miles. Drifting at night obviously helped keep the figure low and we tried motoring during the day but found the heat build up in the saloon unacceptable. 
 

A great anchorage - unfortunately this is mid-Atlantic

A difficult time. We had kept up a south of destination course but obviously we weren't far enough south as we were still N of 17. At times the weather became very humid and 30 knot squalls would savage us for several minutes before disappearing leaving us wallowing in a slop with 5 knots of wind for company. In the first week when winds were at their strongest we had pulled the cringle out of a headsail than our friend Tony had given us; and the repairs we'd made to the genny had been similarly trashed. We repaired both but were now loath to leave anything up that couldn't deal happily with 30k gusts. Some of the downpours during those squalls were something else – monsoon like but just a tad cold to stand out there and shower. Not so now me thinks as we're south of 16 and it is hot. The latest info we got from a ship this morning suggests we should get E10 to E18 over the next 5 days. We'll see.

As with all things eventually we made the trip across. We had planned to go to Antigua to meet up with my sisters, one of whom was flying home on the 28^th and the other sailing south the same day. When days slipped by our destination was changed to Martinique, as the arrival procedure has been greatly simplified. Once in phone contact again we sent out texts warning them of our non arrival. With sunset around 6pm we opted to anchor off St Anne for the night after 32 days at sea. Later that evening we got a text saying the sailing sister wasn't in fact leaving until the new year and why didn't we come up anyway....... The following day we left for the 173 mile trip to English Hbr but temperamental winds and very slow progress had us finally abandoning and motoring the 8 miles back to St Pierre on the north of Martinique where we finally booked in today. Walk into the Tourist Office, sit in front of a terminal and enter in your details, print out the result, hand the form over for stamping. Sign it yourself and leave.....bliss.

When the winds were good we were joined by several whales and watched as they swam around us, under us seemingly for several days. The highlight was watching them surf inside the 3 metre swells that were following us.

St Pierre
Martinique

Labrador video

Russ and Alison from Andante sent us this vid from a 2011 cruise to Labrador.

Labrador 2011

FOR SOME REASON THIS VIDEO NO LONGER WORKS - I'LL TRY TO FIND OUT WHY
Feb 19 2016
March 2016. Apparently the rights were not cleared.

Rolling in the deep....

Sunset, Puerta de Rosario

Very little movement from us as we opt to remain at Puerta de Rosario as the anchorage affords,for the most part, decent shelter with good sand holding, We had a gentle sail down from Lanzarote and arrived to find a few boats at anchor. Thankfully one left as we arrived as the sheltered space is a tad limited but we anchored and settled down for the night, moving closer in the following morning. Since our last visit a decade and more ago the port has changed and added a large wharf for the cruise ships to dock. Back then we simply anchored in the port but not any more although the local people remain as friendly as ever. 

Overlooks the anchorage

With good stocking up facilities, easy 'net access and no rolling at anchor with the prevailing winds we decided we'd probably leave from here for the crossing. A forecast of an unwanted stiff SW had me wandering along to the port police to ask about taking shelter in the harbour – there is a small marina that the occasional yacht ties up to. They knew of the forthcoming blow and we were allowed to move in for 2 nights only for the total of €6.69inc water and power....... In the event the wind seemed to be more southerly than SW and we glad we moved in even though the Med. style mooring causes several problems. 

Here's a couple of pics of life in the fast lane!

The anchorage...

THe harbour - there's a pontoon in there somewhere....

We hope to leave here on Sunday and head for Martinique

mbt

Puerta de Rosario

Guadiana

We settled into our wait on the Guadiana with as much grace as we could muster, using the time to visit friends further up river and a visit to Mertola. Difficult to get to by boat as the river is shallow and rock-strewn, it makes an interesting visit by car. 

 A strong Moorish history and still with a Islamic cultural centre the town clings to the side of a steep ravine overlooking the river. The views are pretty neat as we wandered around (at midday....only the English it seems retain that idiocy to be out in the sun...) Narrow streets, interesting homes and small bars.

The river meanders inland from the coast bordering Spain and Portugal. Totally different languages and time zones crossed by a bridge, foot ferry and zip wire; a few small farms can be seen either side but mostly it appears to be North Europeans who have bought up and restored homes and, as with immigrants everywhere, they tend to favour their own kind resulting in distinct Dutch, German or Brit enclaves.

Rather than sit in one place we opted to sail/motor up and down the river. Some of this was in the belief that the winds were about to shift and we wanted to be at the entrance to take advantage. The changes never came of course so we'd sail partly back up river anchoring where we could get out of the stream. Our favourite place was a little north of Larenjerais as it was quiet with good shelter and an easy hop back up to Ayomonte and San Lucar. 

Over the time we had been there the number of boats had slowly reduced as some continued onto the Med; others went back toward Faro and their winter berths. There were three Wylo's already on the river and we heard that several more were on their way. And so it was-two came in together in a heavy rainfall followed by Nick Skeates the following day. A brief period of visiting followed but as we were sure the latest forecast would hold we soon moved on down river to get ready to leave. Anchored off Ayomonte Marina we dingied in to collect supplies, share a beer with Olly a single-hander we had met and check the forecast. Although we initially decided to wait a day the morning dawned with a fine breeze which seemed a shame to waste and both boats rapidly readied themselves and left on the last of the ebb.

 A slow day followed as the breeze proved fitful and 6pm that evening we were still only 19 miles from the entrance. As happened 11 years ago when we left we were plagued with flies and it took several days before they all disappeared. We were having trouble getting the self-steerer to work properly and drifted in very light winds through the first night. The next day as wind and seas were non-existent Bee went over the side and replaced a part that had wasted away. We also sorted out a bracket that wasn't seating correctly and suddenly we felt we might be in business. But not to be and we struggled on for another day in light winds before it dawned on me that I needed to reduce sail to achieve better balance. So it was and we were away. We had one good day/night as the winds picked up and we romped on with a following sea but that was the only day over 100 miles. No worries the weather was good we weren't in that much of a hurry and Toots having heard the sound of a flying fish landing on deck, racing up the steps devouring the thing was hoping for a second shot. 

In fact the one single bone of contention was the constant stream of chatter/music or general idiocy that came out of the VHF on 16. Although 80-100 miles off the Moroccan coast the propagation for the time we were out there meant the radio could pick up signals from a long way off. We had a conversation with another yacht that was almost 50 miles away whereas ordinarily we might expect 15 mile range. But all through the night Moroccans indulge their childish whims on 16 with never a thought or care about its concept leaving us, at least, fuming.

About a week after we left we closed the coast of Lanzarote to be passed by a catamaran doing 12.8knots in 9knots of wind..... it didn't seem real. We plugged on, debating whether to carry on and enter Marmolas in the dark or heave to and await the morning. In the end we hove to as everything has changed since our last visit - our normal anchorage had been turned into a plush marina and we'd heard that the police were throwing people out of Marmoles. We sailed on down at first light and came into Arrecife where Olly was waiting in the water to dive down with a line and secure us to concrete block.

We've been here close on a week now. The marina is well established and, at the moment, doesn't seem too expensive (under 18 euros for us). It is not possible to anchor off the marina as there simply doesn't seem to be either the room or the water and the police do not want boats anchored in Marmolas. Arrecife still has blocks laid down to which boats are able to connect their own lines although some of the eye-bolts are on their last legs. Luckily ours was in good condition and we were able to get at least two seperate lines around before the wind blew hard from the NE. We moved into the marina (on a very quiet day) to catch up with a friend from our triathlon days, gets Toots up to date with her jabs and make our load up before heading west.

By chance we happened to be in town when a triathlon was being staged and spent most of the day watching the race, cheering folks on and reliving our past... As ever the super fit are very quick but the bulk of the athletes who make up the pack we found, by the end, painful to watch. Partly cos we, or rather I, had been there, and well remember the pain of trying to get through the run after a long swim and bike. All this was 20 plus years ago – Bee was super-fit and we'd met through triathlon. Very competitive she had cajoled me into entering the second Lanzarote Ironman and we duly got through the day. Of course she beat me, easily, but we had a good time and she went onto do several more whereas I retired. We looked in vain to see if we recognised anyone but many of them would have been in kindergarten when we “competed” A good day anyway. 

mbt
Lanzarote 

The 15th year begins

We left Fig Da Foz hoping one day we might get back – great veg market not far from the marina and an interesting town too. We set off also hoping to get to Cascais but frustrating winds or lack of, saw us beating slowly one way then another as we tried to make it south. At one point we thought of anchoring off Berenga Island but one look at those already anchored and the rolling they were suffering put us off that and we motored into Peniche for the night. The harbour was smaller in memory than it actually is but, like before, crowded enough to require boats to raft up. Luckily the big steel one we rafted to was unoccupied. In truth it isn't much of a harbour as the wash from passing boats causes too much movement but it was only for one night and then onto Cascais.

The winds were stronger although still from ahead as we beat south. The radio was alive with chatter as boats sought to find better conditions from friends. Those closer in seemed to be getting a smoother ride but the only option for us was to keep beating, using the engine to improve the angle on the outward leg. With some 15 miles to go the wind died and we motored against a fading day toward the anchorage, arriving in the dark and dropped anchor happily amongst 10 or so other boats.

 We stayed at anchor for several days with little wind but a persistent swell which sometimes eased but still made sleep restless. For us it was bad enough but a square rigger that came in had a hard time of it. In truth it is not a great anchorage but we remained. 


The evenings entertainment being a light show from a nearby beach.

No idea how this was done...

 With the prospect of a stiff 25 knots from the south forecast we upped anchor and headed for Seixal, about 17 miles up river. Interesting to sail past Lisbon and onto the narrow channels that took us to our destination, jostling for space with innumerable ferries and high speed cats that ply the waters – shades of New York only sunnier.

We arrived a dusk following a very pristine wooden ketch and were advised that the holding was poor and a buoy should be picked up. This we duly did but a small German boat was at anchor and I rowed over to ask him about depths etc. As this was his sixth visit over many years we preferred his take on the anchorage – good holding, very safe – and moved off the buoy at first light. When the southerly came through it reached 30 knots and we were more than happy to be at anchor and away from Cascais.

This is an interesting area - a small river off the main Lisbon artery with a couple of boatyards with a lot of boats already hauled for the winter. The two adjacent towns have prominent Portuguese Communist Party buildings/presence/flags, are slightly run down but have a charm for all that. 

The area where we were anchored had several buildings which, we were assured, dated back several hundred years and were being left to rot or being surreptitiously used by the homeless and dispossessed of the area. A flock of pink flamingoes wandered the shallows at low water busily feeding and looking photogenic.

With the wind promising to switch to a more favourable angle we headed back to Cascais for the night, leaving the following morning for either Sines or Cape St Vincent. In the event the winds were neither favourable or particularly strong and we opted to keep going through the night by drifting rather than anchor in Sines. In fact we drifted a second night as gradually worked our way down to the Cape. This particular leg seemed to throw up a number of issues and made us realise: a. I'd become a tad complacent; b. A lot of our gear is in need of replacing.. Complacency: We were below when we heard a loud bang on the foredeck and rushed up to find the bottlescrew on the outer forestay had unscrewed itself. As this sits on the end of the bowsprit almost 3 metres off the bow it presented a bit of a problem. Luckily the wind was light enough to enable us to drop the genny without any real issues. Or so we thought... Anyway we sorted out the bottlescrew using the jib halyard attached to the traveller to support the bowsprit whilst I slid along it and secured a line to the forestay whilst Bee cranked it close enough to be able to re-screw the whole lot together. I think that's when we found the genny had torn though old age and until we repair is unusable. Bit of a bummer but it did have us experimenting with the drifting sail we had made...

 We rounded Cape St Vincent accompanied by a heavy rain squall that had us closeted in oilies (something else that needs replacing) and then passed on leaving no wind. We motored onto Portimao arriving a little after sunset and anchored, glad to have finally made it round the corner....we seem to have been beating since the Orkneys.

Couple of other issues have raised themselves. The downhaul we use to tighten the luff of then heads'l has a habit, when a heads'l is being changed, of swinging wildly about the mast. At its least serous it wraps itself around shrouds or baggywrinkle and is a pain to unravel. For more serious is when it delivers a glancing blow to Bee's head as she changes or lowers the sail. For years we have resisted the logical step of reducing its length as this also reduces the amount of tension you can exert but enough is enough. The leg to Cape St V had her being battered on 3 separate occasions. And that wasn't then end of her travails....in releasing the mainsheet arrangement it momentarily jammed and she made to free it. At the same instant it freed itself and slid across the horse catching the end of her finger between the shackle and an immoveable object...... I have never seen her so stunned or, worse still frightened, as the pain hit her. For her part she had visions of the end of her finger being torn off as happened to a friend of ours. Well it wasn't torn off but was badly split – blood everywhere - and we rapidly doused it liberally in hydrogen peroxide and then covered it. Ideally we could have coated it in super glue to aid the healing but for some reason didn't think of it until much later. Whilst it is now healing it remains slightly flattened and bruised. We're replacing these shackles with grommets which will be far kinder to all concerned.

The journey from Portimao gave us the best sail for many a month, possibly the whole year. The wind was favourable and with everything from topsail to mizzen uo we romped through the water. Most boats we saw on this passage now appear to be heading back to northern Europe and will face a slog back up the coast as the winds are now switching back to the NW... Our wind didn't last and I wondered whether we could just duck into Faro and anchor for the night...the coast past Faro has miles of fish farms and the prospect of getting caught up with them or drifting 'til the morning lost out to an anchorage. I knew we were late and as we approached our speed slowed from 5.2k to 3.8k. OK so far but the strongest ebb lay ahead of us. Across the entrance a wall of water pulsated and we gradually got into it and we fought our way into the channel getting knocked about in the process and made it to an oh so quiet spot where we dropped for the night. In the distance dozens of yachts could be seen at anchor between Culatra and Oleheo but we were far enough in for a quiet time. The journey out was a lot quicker although still lumpy but no wind for much of the day. With yet another tide gate to reach we opted to motor, sailing only when we were able to maintain a reasonable speed, got to the entrance and into the river. We'd intended anchoring off Ayomonte, the big Spanish town but with a favourable current running we opted to go up river as far as we could. In the event it was all the way to Alcoutim/San Luca and in an odd coincidence anchored 11 years to the day that we were last here. So many boats are now on the river; not simply at this end but as we came up. Where we anchored alone around the bend a little north from here has a dozen boats, some on moorings. Few abandoned finca's (small Spanish houses) as most have been bought, rebuilt and inhabited. In terms of the local economy the influx of yotties must have had a huge impact...Alcoutim now has free public showers. The downside is twenty miles from the coast it is significantly hotter and summer temps can reach around 45C-50C/113F-122F which for us is a real nono.

Later we'll head further up river to see friends who live some of the time here, some of the time at sea before we make a decision on what we do next.