X-ing
File #2_Madeira to Canaries
For
the second time this season we’d gone against nautical favour and deep superstition by
leaving port on a Friday. We wondered if
Captain Cook, who also visited Madeira but in 1770 & 1801, would roll in
his grave at our audacity! Weather
reports looked favourable, so we set sail after a somewhat challenging
refuelling. Katabatic gusts blew
directly onto the marina fuel dock. Thankfully,
our bowthruster earned its keep, yet again.
Once
away from the island, the seas were mild and winds light. Our path took us past the dark and mysterious
Ilhas Desertas, now home to endangered monk seals and a warden. Deserted and desolate, we could only
speculate on a lonely life. On dusk we
were joined by a convivial pod of dolphins ready for a little bow chasing. After mum called them home, a pair of sea
birds chased our wake combing the twinkling phosphorescence for tasty morsels. We discovered a baby cuttlefish on deck the
next morning…
How can you read at a time like this? |
Finally,
decent winds set in and the Cap’n poled out the genny; even so we kept the
engine on as swells were confused and unruly.
Conditions degenerated from there.
We sped past the Ilhas Selvagens (Savage Islands) rocketing along with both
headsails wing on-wing (challenging on a B&R rig & set up by Cap’n
Smarty Pants), rather pleased that we had not arranged for a permit to visit
them. There was no way we were
stopping. Winds changed again and the
swell increased, so even if we had decided to head for the eastern group of
Canary Islands (rather than a direct drop to Gran Canaria), it would not have
been a pleasant bash. It was not
pleasant now.
Goose Wings |
Life at Sea: with "James" (really it's Bert), steering, only Tahiti's off course this time |
Finally,
our third crew member, the auto pilot, decided enough was enough and left the
Cap’n no option but to helm. For 5
hours. Dodging cruise ships and
freighters off Tenerife in the dark added to exhausting conditions. Finally, day broke and we had plenty of light
to negotiate Gran Canaria’s vast man-made port complex, Las Palmas. Luckily it was Sunday too, so traffic was
minimal and we safely made it across the paths of monster ships into the one & only vacant, very snug berth in this vast marina. It’s
taken us two days to recover from the 2 ½ days at sea and we’re only just
beginning to eat real food again. GS can
at last sleep without having a bucket within reach.
So,
here we wait, at the mercy of the weather yet again, dreaming of idyllic
conditions awaiting us in the Caribbean and wondering if a couple of tattoos
(each at least, as they're supposedly talismans) might help get us there! Or maybe
I could just find a suitable ship’s cat?
A complete rainbow arc. Some things are nice at sea... |