The Longest Hour

Enjoying the Jardin de Cactus

Hot on the heels of Ben and Ash, my sister, Lucy, came out to visit us in Arrecife.  Lucy stayed aboard Firebird with us, which was the first time we have had a visitor for more than an overnight stay and it worked very well.  The forward cabin used to be a double berth, but we have converted it into a storage area for our clothes.  It was small anyway, and contains the heads, so was never a particularly great cabin.  Luckily, Firebird has a trick up her sleeve and the amazing table in the saloon can be lowered on its telescopic leg into a comfortable, generous double berth.  This is where Sis slept and the fun of having a sleepover every night outweighed any hassle of having to make the bed each day.  With three people below decks, you have to take it in turns to stand up, or else you spend all your time shuffling past each other, getting nothing useful done while performing some sort of badly choreographed dance for zombies.  Once you get the 'one person standing' rule sorted, though, it's perfectly comfortable.  Sis even went so far as to say that Firebird is spacious "as long as everyone is lying down".  We appreciated the sentiment, although you could probably say the same for a coffin.

Tapas at Casa Firebird (on Lucy's bed!)

Geography geek loving the volcanic rocks

We had a really fun week together and managed to squeeze in just the right amount of sightseeing without making the stay too hectic.  Thanks to Sis' fluent Spanish sweetening the lady in the tourist office, who didn't seem overly impressed with the usual calibre of tourist she deals with, we discovered that we could buy a ticket for entry to multiple attractions.  This made the already reasonable prices dangerously close to cheap.  I would recommend this approach to anyone doing a similar visit to Lanzarote.  The best part of having this combo ticket is that we essentially got free entrance into the Jardin de Cactus (Cactus Garden), which meant that we set that as our destination when we hired bicycles for the day.  We otherwise wouldn't have bothered going as it didn't sound that good on paper, but were very glad we got to see it.  The garden is really pretty, peaceful and interesting to look around.  It made the perfect place to recuperate in the shade with a coffee before turning homeward bound.

Surrounded by geology.  It doesn't get better than this

Exploring salt pans with Andrew and Juliet

An interesting twist to the week involved possibly meeting our first mitchyboyandgirl fans.  It turned out that Lucy's work colleagues, Andrew and Juliet, have an apartment on Lanzarote and were out here on holiday.  We met them one day for a picnic on the beach.  Once we had got the measure of each other in a well populated public place and could be fairly certain that neither party were crazed psychopaths, Andrew and Juliet invited us over for dinner, before which they took us on a tour of the surrounding area and showed us an interesting salt pan, which we weren't sure was still operational, but concluded that it probably was.

What happens when you put three teachers together in a room?  They do crosswords

Kate star gazing. She says she saw
Tinie Tempah and Bruce Willis

When I say that they are fans, don't imagine hysteric teenage girls fainting at Beetle concerts, instead, imaging someone casually saying in passing that they enjoyed reading the blog.  It's hard to say whether this was merely classic British politeness or not, but we're racking it up on the scoreboard anyway!  I don't like to assume that anyone other than our close friends and family is mildly interested in reading about our adventures, as that seems somewhat self-absorbed, but it certainly felt good to hear that the blog might be providing entertainment to a wider audience.  The hospitality that we were shown in Andrew and Juliet's lovely apartment was certainly fit for internationally renowned authors, even if we're not.


Kate and I spent a day more in Arrecife after Lucy flew home, which we used to prepare Firebird for setting to sea once more and on the morning of 24th April, we cast off and set sail for Gran Tarajal on Fuerteventura, some 60 NM south of Arrecife.  The forecast was for 20 kts NE, which we assumed meant slightly stronger, as it usually seems to be that way and it's safe to assume so in any case.  Once out there amongst it, we were in about 30 kts of wind and an uncomfortably close-spaced 2 to 3 meter swell from abaft.  Luckily we were heading with the wind and so the ride wasn't too bad.  With so much wind behind us, we certainly made good progress.  In fact, it was our fastest journey to date.  Kate said the technical term for the wind and sea state was "lively", which she said conveys the fact that it was a fast, slightly hairy passage, without admitting to any fear.  I'll go with that.

Kate in the Jardin de Cactus

Lunch cooked on our amazing BioLite (stick-burning stove)

One phenomenon we have come to rely on when sailing is that the final hour of the journey will be the longest hour of our lives and, amazingly, those sixty minutes actually last about four hours.  Whether it's the wind gods having a laugh, or an unamusing coincidence, what happens is that we will be doing, say, 6 kts with 6 NM to go, so one of us will say "Yay, only an hour to go".  Then, after some time has passed, we will get curious and check our speed and remaining distance again.  This time, whoever checks, will announce, with slightly less enthusiasm, that we are doing 5 kts, with 5 NM to go "Great, only an hour to go".  We both scratch our heads and wonder whether we imagined it already having been only an hour to go.  Next check, 4 kts, 4 NM, then 3 kts, 3 NM, by which point we're getting seriously fed up.  We should have been there three hours ago and yet, contrary to all the formulae we remember from A-Level mechanics, we're still an hour away from our destination.  On this journey, though, the last laugh was on the wind gods because as the now feeble blow died even further, the sails started to flap around pathetically and our speed dropped to 2 kts at 2 NM range, I pulled a shiny secret pendant from the lanyard about my neck.  Brandishing it towards the skies, letting rip a throaty, rumbling laugh of triumph, I inserted the magical pendant into its hallowed, snug-fitting receptacle, forged with unrivalled craftsmanship in the fires of Mordor, or possibly mass manufactured somewhere in China.  With the slightest twist of my wrist, the beast that sleeps beneath the floor was awoken and, miraculously, the never-ending final hour of the journey was reduced to a swift 20 minutes, courtesy of Rudolf Diesel.

Kate feeling lucky at Gran Tarajal

Sunny Days and Holidays

It strikes me as a little strange that neither Alex nor I have ever been to the Canary Islands before now. It has always seemed like quite an exotic holiday location to me and, in fact, before our journey here, I didn't even realise that it was in the EU, being part of Spain. However, now that we are here, we are realising just how popular the islands are as a holiday destination. This may be due, in part, to the multitude of cheap flights that exist between the Canaries and the UK, but it seems that it has long been a favourite holiday destination for Europeans seeking some winter warmth. Certainly, it is able to deliver well in this area, with very little rainfall and daily temperatures rarely dropping below 17 degrees Celsius, in the time that we've been here. The only downfall seems to be that it can be very windy, but this is nothing like the bitingly cold winds we are used to in our British winters and if you can find a sheltered spot, you are soon taking your outer layers off to cool down.

Alex's cousin, Julie, and her husband Chris came for dinner on Firebird

Our last few weeks on Lanzarote have been busy and enjoyable, with a good number of visitors flying in for us to meet up with. Some had planned to come here in order to visit us, whilst others just happened to be coming here anyway and the opportunity to catch up came as a welcome surprise. We are berthed in a new marina/construction site in Arrecife, which is the capital of Lanzarote, and a place that not many tourists stay in for long. The airport is on the outskirts of this small city, so most people arrive and then get transferred to one of the more touristy resorts either north or south of here. Costa Teguise is the resort just north of us, and south of us are Puerto Del Carmen and Playa Blanca. Luckily for us, the islands main bus station is a short walk from the marina, and from there we can catch buses to pretty much anywhere.

Traditional Canarian music is played around Arrecife on a Saturday

The buses are nice; fairly frequent and, for the most part, air conditioned. The most popular line is the number 3 bus, which runs from Puerto Del Carmen, through Arrecife and on to Costa Teguise. As a result, it gets very busy with tourists exploring up and down the coast, and we have had to wait for the second or third bus before now, due to them being completely full. Unfortunately for us, one of these occasions happened to be when we decided that, enough was enough, we simply had to do our quarterly clothes wash. Having only hand washed essential underwear and the odd t-shirt since dominating my parents' washing machine in Portugal back in November, we were completely overrun with dirty laundry. We had great plans of keeping on top of our washing after that humongous task but, quite frankly, at anchor in the freezing cold in December and January in Alvor, going outside for an hour or more to hand wash clothes was a task placed right at the bottom of our "to-do" list. And, of course, once you let these things build up, it seems like an insurmountable task that you never feel like tackling.

Unrelated to anything in this post, but our neighbour's dog Isis
is the most adorable little Beagle that we have ever met!

So, we found details of a self-service launderette in Puerto Del Carmen and set off with what turned out to be 35 Euros worth of washing, at 5 Euros a load. We finally managed to squeeze ourselves, our jam-packed rucksacks and four large 'bag-for-life' style carrier bags of clothes onto a number 3 bus with all the tourists, and headed off to Puerto Del Carmen. The journey was mostly ok, as we managed to ram the carrier bags into the luggage slots above people's heads, but leaving the crowded bus was awkward and clothes were spilling out of the open bags as we tried to retrieve them. Thankfully, I spotted that a pair of my jeans was still on the bus before the driver shut the door, so I managed to jump back on to fetch them before he drove off. As we watched the bus leave and gathered our belongings from the floor, Alex reflected that we probably looked like tourists ourselves, and people around us had probably been wondering why we had packed all of our holiday clothes in carrier bags rather than just bringing suitcases!

Spot the difference! We found this bar sign on Fuerteventura very amusing!

We decided to visit the nearby island of Fuerteventura for a couple of days, as there are ferries from the resort Playa Blanca on the south of Lanzarote. This was a fun trip, and we travelled on the bus down to a marina on the south of the island - Gran Tarajal. The trip could not be done in a day, due to the length of Fuerteventura, so we found a cheap self-catering apartment in a resort called Caleta de Fuste and stayed there for a night. It was really interesting to see the difference between Lanzarote and Fuerteventura; the latter feels a lot less developed, and most of the tourists we met there seemed to be German rather than English. The first thing we noticed about Fuerteventura was how colourful the buildings were - on Lanzarote, nearly all buildings are white with either blue or green doors and window frames, due to strict planning legislation passed as a result of campaigning by local artist César Manrique, back in the 1970s. On Fuerteventura, no such restrictions exist and the locals seem to delight in decorating their homes in a range of bright colours. Another difference is that the island is very sandy, with long sandy beaches running down the east coast. Sadly, along this coast there seems to be a large number of abandoned building sites - it seems that perhaps investors ran out of money and have not returned to finish what they started.

A calm night time view of El Charco de San Ginés, near the marina in
Arrecife. I've just discovered that 'charco' means puddle!

On our way back to Lanzarote, the sea was getting pretty rough and this made for an interesting 45 minute ferry journey. As ever, Alex and I were enjoying the thrill of being in amongst some large waves, whilst not having to worry about controlling the vessel ourselves - instead we could just sit back and enjoy the ride. Other passengers didn't really seem as enthralled. It all started off ok, with women letting out those excited/scared screams that they seem to do whenever we surfed down a particularly large wave. However, by about halfway, any sounds of excitement were long gone and, looking around, most heads were down on the table. Of course, the inevitable happened and one man was sick - that's all it takes before the sick bags start getting dealt out faster than a deck of cards in Caesar's Palace. The smell was pretty repulsive and we felt sorry for the ferry staff - I'm sure they much prefer serving refreshments on passage to dispensing and collecting sick bags! Nevertheless, they did a sterling job and eventually managed to mask the smells with strong cleaning fluids.

Ben looks happy to have arrived on Lanzarote!

Our first planned visitors were my brother, Ben, and his partner Ash. They booked to stay in the Arrecife Gran Hotel, which is easily the tallest building in Arrecife. It was originally built prior to the planning laws that restrict the height of buildings on Lanzarote, but has had a total refurb since catching fire in the early 1990s and so looks very modern. It's actually quite an attractive building, in my opinion, and makes for a useful landmark when out sailing along the coast. We thoroughly enjoyed having them staying nearby, as there were many tourist activities that we had fancied doing but decided that we should wait until we had visitors before indulging. We took a trip on the little tourist train that drives around Arrecife and, on another day, hired bicycles with which we cycled along the coast to Costa Teguise. It was so nice to be back on a bike - it made both Alex and I realise how much we miss riding our bikes, and has caused us to start reconsidering whether we could fit a couple of folding bikes on the boat.

The coastal route from Arrecife to Costa Teguise makes for an interesting cycle

We also took Ben and Ash out sailing on Firebird, picking a day when the forecast seemed best for our visitors, especially as they had no prior sailing experience. We planned to sail down the coast for a couple of miles, drop anchor near their hotel and have a leisurely lunch before heading back to the marina before dark. We let the lines slip and motored away from the pontoon shortly after midday and, as there was a good amount of wind, Alex decided to switch the engine off immediately and tack all the way up the narrow channel that leads out to sea. It was a bit of a baptism of fire for the boys, who did well to keep out of the way of the tiller as Alex called out "ready about, lee ho!" almost continuously and expertly manoeuvred us away from the harbour walls, lateral markers and other vessels. I would like to be able to claim that I was, at the same time, expertly sheeting the foresail back and forth but, in reality, we had the self tacking jib on and were very glad that we did.

At anchor in the sunshine, not far from the centre of Arrecife

Once out of the port entrance, we had a fast sail downwind to the anchorage, with the wind being slightly stronger than predicted. We made our way to the small harbour by the Arrecife Gran Hotel, as planned, dropped the anchor and enjoyed a delicious salad made with sprouted lentils. It was a lovely hot afternoon and we were in no hurry to leave; particularly myself and Alex, who both knew that beating back up to the marina in the lively winds would be quite an uncomfortable sail. Still, we said nothing and made the most of being so relaxed and peaceful at anchor... that was until the nearby sailing club started their Friday afternoon activities and Firebird found herself being used as a marker by the endless stream of youngsters spilling out in their Optimist dinghies. It was actually quite fun to watch them - I think Alex rather envied them being out in such nice conditions, as his Wednesday afternoon dinghy lessons were conducted in the London Docklands and were no doubt a good deal chillier than Lanzarote!

A view from the top of the Arrecife Gran Hotel

We eventually tidied up Firebird, lifted the anchor and sailed away from our lunch spot, heading into some slightly choppy seas. I think that Ben and Ash were alarmed at first, as Firebird was bouncing around quite a lot and we were heeled over due to being so close hauled, but they seemed to realise from our reactions that there was really nothing to worry about and so handled it very well. We made it back to the harbour entrance before anyone started to feel queasy and then had a nice gentle sail down the narrow channel back to the marina. Ben later commented that the waves had been quite big, and Alex and I almost laughed out loud at that notion. We explained that the waves had been pretty small and used a nearby lamp post as a reference to explain the sizes of some of the large waves we have seen. Of course, in many ways, smaller waves can be far worse as they are often close together and make for an uncomfortable ride, whereas huge waves are usually fairly well spaced and the boat rides up and down them a lot more easily.

Alex proves that the "box of doom" is, at last, empty! This large box has been
getting in the way since Brighton, having become a junk storage area.

After our fun-filled "holiday" with the boys, we spent last week doing the usual tasks of work on the boat,  development work and general chores. I've been making the most of the endless sunshine by getting out the yacht varnish and treating some of our woodwork to a few coats, whilst Alex has been working with wires and electronics, on both Firebird and a neighbouring yacht. We have now almost finished tidying and cleaning Firebird for our next visitor, Alex's sister, who will be staying on the boat with us! We are both very excited, as we have had guests stay with us before whilst berthed in London and it always feels like a sleepover due to the close proximity in which we all sleep. Lucy ran the London Marathon yesterday and after such a tough training schedule, let alone the run itself, she sure does deserve a good holiday. Of course, a welcome side effect is that we, too, will be having another "holiday"... and the forecast is, of course, sunny days ahead!

Back in the Saddle

After the shake up we received on our way to Graciosa, neither Kate nor I relished the thought of going sailing again.  Slowly, though, as is usually the way, the passing of time eroded the unpleasant memories.  I can't understand why our brains work like this.  It seems an unlikely trait to succeed in the Darwinian selection process.  I would have thought that the caveman who went out on his yacht, got caught in a storm and felt like he was going to die, remembered it exactly how it was and never set foot on another yacht for so long as he lived would be more likely to survive to pass on his genes than the caveman who went sailing, took a right pasting, yet a month later thought it was a good idea to go sailing again.  Maybe the caveman who remembered all the bad stuff ended up starving because he was too frightened to leave his cave to go hunt a ferocious sabre-toothed tiger after his last encounter with one.

Me and Kate in a nice little park in Arrecife

In any case, when Warren and Faye, of Moonshine, asked us if we wanted to join them for their sail from Graciosa to Lanzarote, we jumped at the chance.  We were eager to see what it was like to sail on a larger, much heavier, twin-masted boat and also to learn from Warren and Faye, who have a great deal of sailing experience under their belts.  We had great fun and were pleasantly surprised that heading against the wind into choppy seas was about as uncomfortable on Moonshine as it would have been on Firebird.  Why is this good?  Well, it means that we don't need to add 'uncomfortable ride' to the list of cons in our list of for/against having a small boat.  In fact, the only real problem we have found with a small boat is the limited amount of storage space available for food, but even this problem could be solved if we put our minds to it and built a clever storage area.  It's also sometimes a shame that we can only accommodate two guests below decks and we can't sprawl anywhere when relaxing.  Now it's warmer, though, we could comfortably have four people over if we sat in the cockpit and ate off our laps.  Some of the benefits of having little Firebird, however, are:

• Marina fees are considerably cheaper for us than anyone else we talk to
• ...as are the running and maintenance costs.  For example, when motoring, we use half the diesel of Moonshine
• The size of the lines and forces involved in sailing are easy to manage
• We can squeeze into crowded marinas and anchorages
• Close-quarters manoeuvring is a doddle
• Most importantly, you are never more than 1 step away from somewhere to puke if you're feeling sea sick below decks.  Seriously, we have both been surprised by how quickly the need to blow chunks hits and I know I sure was glad to be within lurching distance of the galley sink!

The Arrecife Gran Hotel: The same size as Kate's head

I'm not saying that Firebird is perfect, but instead my point is that where things aren't quite to our liking, they would not be solved by simply increasing the size of the vessel and that small boats, in our eyes, have a lot going for them.

We spent a very enjoyable week on Lanzarote with Warren and Faye, exploring the island, relaxing, and hunting down the best-value English breakfasts.  Well, to be fair, this last part was mainly driven by me and Warren, although when push came to shove, Kate and Faye didn't complain for too long after the hash browns started flowing.  Aside from shunning local food to instead opt for badly prepared, greasy fry-ups that we should be ashamed of rather than embrace, their reluctance was down to the fact that to get the breakfasts, we needed to venture into the heavily touristic areas, full of 'Brits abroad'.  By going there and having the breakfasts, we were essentially becoming what we proclaimed to abhor.

Stay healthy by running marathons and drinking beer

At the end of the week, Kate and I took part in the Lanzarote Music Marathon, which, despite the name, was only a half marathon, 5 or 10k.  Kate ran a very respectable 10k and I was doing OK on the half until I was reduced to not much more than a hobble with what I suspect is ITB syndrome.  Hopefully it's nothing too serious and will be solved by stretching and strengthening exercises.  It was a fun event with live bands scattered along the route to keep you going.  It was held in Puerto del Carmen, one of the tourist resort areas that does a good breakfast.  The organisers had obviously taken note of the type of person that visits this area and instead of handing out the usual energy drink or protein shake that you normally get given upon completing an organised run, they had a table full of beer!  When I reached for an alcohol-free can, the lady behind the table helpfully corrected me and said that those cans were for the children.  She looked most perplexed when I thanked her and continued to take my 0% refreshment!

Graciosa as seen from Mirador del Rio on Lanzarote.  You can see the marina we were in (left of centre)

After watching the carnival on Lanzarote, which was a mass of amazing costumes, drumming, and elaborate floats, we returned to Graciosa on the ferry.  One thing we enjoyed about our stay on Lanzarote was being able to have hot showers and, once back on Graciosa, we couldn't bear to take another cold one in the windy, half-exposed shower block that we had been using on the campsite there.  We held out for as long as we could manage while still being able to call ourselves civilised, after which time, we cast off our mooring lines and took Firebird down to Lanzarote.  We were really excited to be sailing Firebird again and it was nice to make the trip on our own, to prove to ourselves that we were over the trauma of our trip from Portugal.

Watching the J/80s race

We have been on Lanzarote for a few weeks now.  In this time, we have taken Warren and Faye out for a reciprocal sail on Firebird, so that they could see what life at sea is like for a Firebirdian and to offer commentary on any aspects where we could improve our sailing.  Some of the tips that Warren gave us were really useful, and I would much rather learn from his experience than to have to do it the hard way and learn from our own experiences.  We have also watched some J/80 racing, a J/80 being a small racing yacht.  Well, maybe that's a bit rich for me to call them small seeing as they are only 2 foot shorter than Firebird!  We watched the racing with Sven, a friend we first met in Baiona (Spain) and who happened to be on Lanzarote when we turned up, which was a lovely coincidence.  The useful thing about having Sven for company while watching the J/80s is that he's a real sailing guru, who has done a load of racing himself and whose boat is a pedigree racing thoroughbred, so he could explain the rules and tactics we were watching and act as our own private commentator on who was sailing well, who wasn't and why.  At one point, a yacht passing through the area got caught up in the middle of the J/80s, who were all frantically beating back and forth on their upwind leg, tacking only inches away from each other.  We were so glad that it wasn't us amongst that tangled mass off nippy J/80s, being bombarded from all quarters, with only a few seconds to work out who should be avoiding who between each narrowly-avoided collision.  It reminded me of a similar experience we had when leaving Falmouth back in September.

Remote controlled yachts

We also had fun watching some racing on a smaller scale, with local chaps battling their remote control boats in a bay off the front in Arrecife.  All in all, there has been a fair amount of sailing action and we're loving it.

We are really enjoying exploring Lanzarote and although we are no closer to formulating a plan of what to do after the Canary Islands, at least now we have been able to put our unpleasant sailing experience behind us and will be venturing out of our cave to hunt more sabre-toothed tigers in the future.

Well; what more can I say?

Joie de Vivre

A month has passed since we first set foot on La Graciosa, and what a wonderful month it has been. After our less-than-enjoyable passage here, a few weeks to wind down and relax on a pretty much deserted island was just what the doctor ordered. We decided, upon arrival, that we would have a proper 'holiday' before starting any of the boat DIY or looking for online contracts, and that is exactly what we did. It may seem odd to some, the idea that we would need a holiday… after all, we haven't worked for over six months now… how much more of a holiday do we need?! But, whilst we haven't worked in the traditional sense, for the most part we have been busier than we ever were when we worked full time and, when we aren't busy, we are feeling guilty about the never ending to-do list that begs for our attention. So, our holiday began.

The captain made light work of this humongous chocolate pastry

The morning after our arrival, Warren and Faye invited us for coffee and pastries on the waterfront. Given our love of fresh coffee, and the alternative being to begin tidying up the destruction that had taken place inside Firebird on our passage, it was an easy invitation to accept. We whiled away a good few hours chatting and enjoying the sunshine – it felt so good to be safe on dry land and be wearing shorts and flip flops! We met a Swedish friend of Warren and Faye's who works as a tour guide on the island, and were all invited back to Moonshine for some lunch following a brief tour of the essential shops and amenities in the village. The next couple of days continued along this theme, with us barely spending any time on Firebird at all. Finally, we decided that we simply had to buckle down and get her ship shape, so that we could once again relax and feel at home on her.

Firebird remained in this state for a few days after our arrival

Exploring the Canary Islands is really great fun. As well as exploring our immediate surroundings, we decided to take the local ferry across to Lanzarote for the day, on a mission to find two things; 1) a local Spanish SIM card, to enable us to use the internet and 2) an English breakfast. Of course, with Mr Mitchell on board, the mission priorities were soon reversed, and we set to work hunting down a breakfast that had been recommended by Warren, in Puerto del Carmen. The ferry journey across to Lanzarote was rather rough, as the wind had been picking up a lot over the course of the week, and the return journey even more so. In fact, the following day, all ferries to and from Graciosa were cancelled, so we were fortunate to have been able to get back on what was the last ferry of the day. Whilst on the ferry, climbing up and surfing down some pretty huge waves, both Alex and I remarked on how glad we were to be on the ferry rather than in Firebird (watch a video of the return crossing). At €20 return per person for a 20-30 minute journey, the ferry is probably a contender with the Isle of Wight ferries for being the most expensive per mile travelled. However, we both felt that it was money well spent on that occasion. We returned safely to Graciosa with SIM card in hand, following a successful mission and pleasant introduction to our neighbouring island.

Waves are much better when enjoyed from the safety of a beach

Even though we were still on holiday, there were some chores that really had to be done, such as the tidying of Firebird. Additionally, we desperately needed to thoroughly clean the interior walls, which had started to grow mouldy due to the amount of time we had spent condensated over the past couple of winter months in Spain and Portugal. It wasn't something we were much looking forward to but, actually, pottering about on Firebird on a nice sunny day was really quite enjoyable and we decided that we would give ourselves time off in lieu for our efforts. Another task we wanted to get done was investigating our engine troubles, especially as Warren had kindly offered to help us determine the cause of our problems. Once again, we actually really enjoyed this ‘chore’ as both Alex and I love to tinker with engines anyhow, and it was great to be able to learn so much from having Warren there with us. Even though the problem turned out to be nothing to do with the engine or fuel system, we felt very smug at having completed half of the scheduled engine service, with just the oil change remaining before we can be on our way again.

An interesting local plant, with Playa de las Conchas in the background

As always, we have been meeting a lot of new people whilst in the Canaries, many of them through Warren and Faye and a surprising number of them being French! One evening around Moonshine, the prevailing language being spoken was French which was quite tiring for me, given my French is very much limited to the level at which most of us Brits can converse upon school leaving age. And, of course, nobody was asking my name, age, or directions to the local bakery, so I was pretty much stuffed! However, I actually surprised myself as the evening went on with how much I could understand… I just wasn't really able to contribute to the conversation. Thankfully, Alex's French was on top form, and by the end of the evening he was explaining the difference between AC and DC to another yacht owner, and arranging to take a look at some battery issues she was having – honestly, nothing can keep him away from his love of batteries!

We have nicknamed this mountain Coffee Cup Mountain, as the pattern
on it looks like the one a barista might make on your latte

We have really begun settling into life ashore on this rugged, yet beautiful, island. Following our rather awful trip to get here, I suddenly feel like we have a new lease of life. I guess describing our trip as a 'near death experience' is rather over dramatic but, honestly, at the time when we were out there in such unknown and frightening conditions, I did question whether we would arrive safely and it was the most afraid I have ever been. On the back of that, I feel compelled to make the most of every day that I have, and it’s so much fun. We have started learning Spanish by listening to CDs every morning as we make breakfast, as we intend on being in this archipelago for a good while and would love to be able to converse properly with the locals. Alex has also been playing his harmonica more, and is getting rather good! Most evenings we cook our dinner on our awesome little BioLite camp stove, using wood that we collect from around the island.

Alex managed to bake a banana cake, using a frying pan on the BioLite

We have signed up for a run on Lanzarote in March, with Alex doing a half marathon and me a quarter marathon (just over 10k), so have been running around the island in training for that, as well as working out at the local "gym" (children's play area). Even the cold showers don’t seem quite so bad any more – when I'm shivering and cringing with just my head under the water and the wind giving me goosebumps, I remind myself that I'd rather be here than back in the midst of an Atlantic storm. And, of course, once you force yourself to plunge your entire body under the spray by lathering it up in soap, it is actually quite invigorating.

Alex works his guns on the swings. The kids who turned up
later to play looked highly unimpressed with us!

Our holiday is over now, but we are a bit sluggish on our return to 'work'. February is reputed to be the worst month here, weather-wise, and so we haven’t attempted to do any boat DIY. Of course, when I say the weather is bad, it is nothing in comparison to the UK. Temperatures are still 15-18°C at all times, it just gets quite chilly when the wind is blowing and the clouds cover the sun on their way past, occasionally offloading some of their water content as they go. We are still very much free from condensation and able to wash clothes outside on sunny days, and Alex refuses to change from shorts and flip flops into jeans and trainers, despite my weakness at returning to them at the first breath of wind. We have been making the most of the colder days by getting our hands back into development and updating our online profiles, in preparation for finding some remote work in the new financial year. It has been really enjoyable to get our heads back into some technical work, on our own terms and for enjoyment and the hope of making a bit of money, rather than because it’s what we have to do, 9-5 every day just to make ends meet.

A selfie on the beach. We considered asking someone else to take the shot,
but most people around us were naked so we chickened out!

We have a great deal to look forward to, in both the short and long term. We have been invited to sail to Lanzarote on Moonshine with Warren and Faye, which is extremely exciting, as we can learn a lot from their experience and will enjoy sailing on a larger vessel. We have friends and family coming to visit us on the islands of Lanzarote and Tenerife, so we will be on the move in Firebird again which will be fun. We have also been reading about the other Canary Islands, such as La Gomera and La Palma, which sound fascinating and definitely worth a visit.

A view from the beach to the marina on Graciosa

Beyond this, we have no firm plans, and we are perfectly happy with that. It feels great to be so content where we are right now, making the most of what we have and enjoying our time together. Our dream was to break free from the rat race and set sail on our boat, heading for Greece but seeing the world on the way. Almost on a daily basis we remind each other that this is it – we are living the dream! We have learnt so much on our journey here, and will no doubt have many more experiences ahead of us, from which we will learn more still. The most important thing is that we are here, enjoying life and making the most of every opportunity that comes our way. 

A panoramic shot from the northern breakwater at Caleta de Sebo

A Night (Not) To Remember

One final piri piri chicken before leaving

After nearly two months on the Algarve, waiting to cross to the Canary Islands, a usable weather window finally seemed to be opening up.  Each day we eagerly went back to the internet cafe to get the latest weather report, hoping that the forecast hadn't taken a turn for the worse.  It held true, so we filled our water tanks, stocked up on fresh stores from the local market, said our goodbyes to the friends we had made during our long stay in the lovely anchorage at Alvor and made Firebird ready to put to sea.

We had a 30 minute motor from the anchorage to get out to sea.  For some reason, as we made our way down the river, I was full of nerves and was apprehensive about our trip ahead.  I have never felt like this before when setting off on Firebird.  Maybe it was due to the fact that we had arrived at the anchorage in unpleasant conditions, leaving me with a bad memory of the water outside the river, or that we had been at anchor for so long, or that we had such a long journey ahead of us, but whatever the cause, I really didn't look forward to heading back out.  The fact that the sand banks in the river had shifted in the recent heavy swell rolling into the river mouth didn't help matters and we had to take things slowly, with Kate at the bow keeping a sharp eye out for shallows ahead.

The sea outside the breakwater was very calm, however, and once we had set the sails and pointed the self-steering towards Isla Graciosa, with the sun shining, I began to relax.  We were in for our longest trip to date, with the distance to cover being just over 530NM.

We made really good progress on the first and second days.  Slightly worryingly, though, the wind wasn't doing quite as forecast and we couldn't make our way far enough west.  We were still on course for Graciosa, but I had planned to get further out to sea because the wind charts showed some winds coming later in the week that would make it difficult for us to maintain our heading and which risked pushing us too far east.

Plenty of fresh fruit and veg, from the local market, to keep scurvy at bay

The following day, Wednesday, we got becalmed.  Although slightly frustrating, I didn't mind too much because it was actually a warm, sunny day, so I spent my time on watch relaxing in the sun, having a refreshing shower on deck, which was a first while underway, and watching several pods of whales that made their way lazily by, breathing loudly as they went (watch a video of the whales).

By the early hours of Thursday, the wind was back and we were on the move again with lifted spirits.  Apart from a large squall, the day passed uneventfully.  Unfortunately, that marked the end of the pleasant part of the journey.  The remainder of the voyage turned out to easily be the worst experience of either Kate or my lives.

The wind continued to blow stronger and stronger from Friday morning, the sky darkened into an oppressing mass of thick, tangled clouds and bit by bit, the swell increased.  Soon, we were fully reefed on the mainsail and, such was the look of the situation, we decided to hank on our storm jib.  We don't usually use this sail, which is made from very strong material and is barely bigger than an XL t-shirt, but going up to the foredeck to change the sail is not much fun at the best of times.  When it gets rough, it's downright horrid so we didn't want to have to go and do it again if the approaching weather did get as bad as it was looking.  To change a foresail, you see, you have to leave the safety and shelter of the cockpit and slowly make your way along the length of the boat, clinging on to whatever strongholds you can, trying not to get knocked off your feet as the boat rolls unpredictably beneath you, the wind tugs at your clothes, spray stings your eyes and your safety harness capitalises on every opportunity it can to tangle round your legs and trip you up.

Once you have made your way forward, you now have to scramble around on your hands and knees on the wet, slippery deck while the bow rises high over the crest of each wave before plummeting down into the trough behind.  With your weight all the way forward, the bow delights in being able to sink low enough to grab a nice scoop of water and throw it all over you.  As an added bonus, rising and falling this violently will soon make you feel seasick, so on top of everything else, you're now also trying to keep your lunch down.

When a sail is set, it is a graceful, elegant, docile creature, delighted to be out in the open air and happy to obey your every command.  When you start taking the sail down, however, it realises that it is going to get crumpled up and stuffed back into a smelly, damp, mildewy sail bag.  It then, quite understandably, starts to resist with all its might.  At the slightest loosening of the halyard, the sail turns into a writhing, hissing tangle of fabric and rope, resisting all attempts to grab hold of it and pull it down onto the foredeck, flicking just out of reach whenever you lunge for it, then countering your attack by whipping you in the face, striking with the speed and ferocity of an angered scorpion whenever you lower your guard.

Things starting to get lively.  It's blowing just over 30kts here.  No photos of the bad stuff later on because we were too busy changing into our brown-coloured trousers to avoid later embarrassment

We were as ready as we were going to get and now we just had to wait and see what was going to happen.  For several hours, we were flying along in 30 - 35 kts wind.  It was nice to be making such good progress, but worrying that we were at the upper limit of what we could comfortably handle with our current sail plan. As long as it didn't blow any harder, we would be just fine.  Guess what?  It blew harder.  We started to heel ever further and the anenomenter (wind meter) crept up to 40 kts.  Our mainsail's second reef was far too big for these conditions, so when Kate popped her head out of the hatch, prompted by the sudden increase in heel angle, I told her that it was time to drop the main.

Luckily, Kate was up on deck, we were both dressed in our wet weather gear and clipped on with our safety harnesses and ready to lower the main when the wind took another jump in speed.  In a breath, it was blowing 50+ kts (when I glanced at the anenometer, I saw 52).  The wind was howling around us and the noise it makes as it tears through the rigging at these speeds is truly frightening, hammering home just how much force the wind can deliver, as if you couldn't already tell by how hard it was to stand up and the punishment that poor Firebird was taking.  At this point we were heeled at about 70 degrees.  Before we had managed to release the main halyard, a large wave smashed into us, knocking Firebird completely flat in the water.  I was now standing on the side of the cockpit, where your back would usually rest if you were sitting down, with water covering my feet.  I looked down and thought how incredible it was that I was half a step away from a 4km drop to the ocean floor.  Worryingly, I could also see that a vent leading below decks was now submerged with water able to freely flow down it.  Kate, who had been at the foot of the mast about to release the main halyard, was now clinging to the mast as you might find a koala bear affixed to a eucalyptus tree, staring down into the ocean with her face a few inches above the water.

As terrifying as it was to be in this situation, the fright only lasted an instant and instead of being overrun by panic, we both felt immensely calm and found that we had total focus on the task at hand.  I felt almost like a puppet, aware of what I was doing, but not feeling as though I was driving myself to do it, as if someone else was pulling the strings.  Firebird was only laid flat in the water for a number of seconds, and as she started to right herself, we finished the job of lowering the mainsail.

Before the knockdown occurred, we had discussed our options and decided that pressing on was the best one.  With an additional 20kts of wind, this was no longer possible.  Without going into all the details, the overruling problem with the other choices was that, due to the unexpected wind direction up to this point in the voyage, we weren't far enough west and were now too close to the Moroccan coast for comfort.  This is a dangerous shore to approach in heavy weather and something that we would avoid at all costs, as we could be wrecked in huge breaking swell.  We weren't in any immediate danger, but we didn't know how long the storm would be blowing because we couldn't trust the weather forecast we had.  For now, though, the only thing for it was to bear off the wind and lose some of our sea room, hoping that the wind would die down or change direction before we got too far east.

I set the Hydrovane (self steering equipment) for the new heading and let Firebird turn onto her new course.  With our mainsail down, and heading with the wind, the ride became more comfortable.  I looked at the wind direction indicator and couldn't understand what I was seeing.  It said that we were still heading into the wind.  A look at the wind vane on top of the mast confirmed the true wind direction and revealed that the electronic sensor was missing - either blown away of washed off when we got knocked down.  I checked the compass to confirm our new heading and again couldn't understand the reading I saw.  Surely the compass wasn't broken as well?  A check of the GPS corroborated the compass' heading and we were now sailing on the best point of sail to ride out the storm and, incredibly, at that moment, the wind had veered by about 120 degrees so that our course on the new point of sail was still taking us directly towards the Canary Islands.

Kate is glad to be alive after the storm

Hugely relieved to be heading away form the Moroccan coast, there was nothing else to do than head below decks, close the hatch and hope for the best.  We spent the evening and all night in bed, trying to sleep, which was almost impossible with Firebird getting thrown about by large waves, hoping that nothing would break and trying to ignore the horrible sound of the sea punishing our hull.  We maintained a watch of sorts, but it was impossible to see anything out there because the waves were so big and even going over the top of one, the spray getting blown up reduced visibility to nearly nothing.  Even though we hadn't seen any other ships for days, it was still disconcerting to be sailing along so quickly without being able to see where we were going.  We were comforted by the fact that our AIS transponder would let any large ships know that we were there and we hoped that no other yachts were stuck out there with us.  To say that it was a long, scary night is something of an understatement.

The wind continued to blow hard for most of Saturday and when it did ease off, it backed and we had to get the mainsail up again to be able to maintain our course for the Canaries.  It was an unpleasant, squally evening and night and even though the weather wasn't half as bad as it had been the night before, we were both frightened whenever a squall blew through in case the weather took a turn for the worse again.  To top off the whole nightmare scenario, we were feeling seasick, partly because of how rough the seas were and partly because we were so worried the whole time.

I'm also glad to be alive, shortly before arriving

Through all this, however, we had the immense comfort of being able to talk to a very experienced good friend, Warren, on his boat with his wife, Faye, already safely moored ahead of us in the Canary Islands, using our SSB radio.  We talked twice a day and could give him our position report (in case the worst happened) ask his advice and generally be reassured by hearing a friendly voice crackling through the static of the airwaves.  The only thing that really kept us going once the storm had hit was that fact that Warren and Faye said they had visited the butchers and bought the most delicious, huge, pork steaks, which were in the fridge, ready to be tossed into a frying pan and served with all the trimmings as soon as we arrived.  We were eating very little and were not able to prepare any proper food due to it being so rough and because we felt sick.  After a week at sea, we were also looking forward to having showers and when we asked about this, Warren said not to worry, the facilities at the marina were open 24 hours.

Up with the Spanish courtesy flag once more.  Canary Islands in background

By Sunday, the weather had improved immensely and although there were squalls blowing through, bringing strong wind and rain, we could easily see them and prepare well before they were upon us.  Apart from that, we had favourable wind all the way up to the marina entrance on Graciosa.  You can imagine how excited we were when we could actually see the Canary Islands and watch them growing bigger by the hour as we approached.

As it turned out, we were incredibly lucky to be able to sail right up to the breakwater in light wind because just when we thought we were finally safe and could relax, as Kate dropped the mainsail and I put the engine into gear to take us into the marina, nothing happened.  The engine was running, but generating very little power.  I pushed the throttle further and further forward right up to full power but we were barely able to crawl forward against the gentle breeze and the whole boat was shaking in a most alarming manner, as though we were sailing a Magic Fingers Vibrating Bed borrowed from a sleezy 1970's American motel.  I'm sure that I would have been able to tow Firebird faster swimming than the motor was managing and we had a really hairy time getting through the breakwater, hoping that the engine held out long enough to avoid getting wrecked by the very rocks that we had come to seek shelter behind.  I sent Kate forward again to prepare the anchor for an emergency deployment in case we needed it and then we just sat tight while the fillings got shaken out of our teeth and Warren and Faye jumped up and down waving from ashore to welcome us, probably wondering why on earth we had decided to cover the last 50m at 0.5kts.

We managed to limp to our berth and I cannot express how much relief we felt as the warps were made fast and Firebird was finally safe, soaking up the Canarian sun on her deck.

Safely moored in the marina on Isla Graciosa

As for those showers we were promised, yes, they were open 24 hours, but what Warren hadn't had the heart to tell us while we were getting pasted out in the Atlantic was that they were freezing cold!  Never mind, getting cold and clean was preferable to remaining warm and pungent and the pork steaks more than made up for the icy dousing.  As we sat there eating the best meal we had tasted in a long while, in the company of such good people, we began to unwind and reflect on the ordeal we had been through to get here.

Being able to sail our home wherever we like, from country to country, is the greatest freedom we could ever hope to achieve.  Most of the time the sea is a beautiful place, full of wonderful, intriguing creatures and we are lucky to have the opportunity to experience it.  From time to time, though, this tranquil paradise turns into the most frightening place on Earth.  It's hard to believe that these are two faces of the same environment and when you're experiencing the one, it's almost impossible to believe that the other exists.

When making longer passages, it's inevitable that we will sometimes get unlucky with the weather.  What hit us this time, although terrifying, was by no means the worst the sea can do and we were thankfully able to survive with no damage to ship or crew.  Now that we have had a taste of the bad stuff, we have to decide whether all the pleasures that this life provides are worth the price that Poseidon can demand.  This experience will definitely be in our minds when we plan future passages and only time will tell how much influence it will have on our choices.  In the mean time, we're really enjoying being on Graciosa, with a renewed joie de vivre and strengthened respect for the oceans that we have chosen to travel.

Engine troubles?  Nope, it turned out to be fishermen troubles, with their blasted old nets tangled in our prop

If you recognise this rope, feel free come and get it back.  It comes with a complimentary piece of my mind