Lunch at Elkwallow

Blue Ridge Mountains: 27^th September

Huge vistas over Shenandoah Valley

SkylineDrive follows the heart of The Blue Ridge Mountains and is a core route through Shenandoah National Park.  It has plenty of viewpoints, some side access roads (with fascinating names – Rockfish Gap and Swift Run Gap), a number of wayside stops (we lunched at Elkwallow) and plenty of things to do if hiking, meeting wildlife nose-to-nose, or photography is your bent.  We were warned to watch for bears. Yup, grizzlies (or maybe it was just photos of grizzlies).  The bears were too busy to bother with us, though the Magpies did spot a deer or two.  Sadly, fall foliage was not out on display (mid to late October, I’m told by Park Wardens but check out the link above) but the scenery over Shenandoah Valley and across the park was superb.

Oh look, I've just seen a deer!

St Mary's Rock Tunnel (1932)

Photo opportunity stops gave our chauffeur plenty of breaks; still, it was a long run across to Fredericksburg, then down along the Rappahannock River to Deltaville.  It was rather pleasant to finally be back on board enjoying our peaceful marina life.  I think we all slept well after our time away setting quite the pace as tourists-on-the-go.

The only fall colour we found...

Even Park Facilities were nicely situated

Well, kinda sorta!  Land touring really takes your mind off things like weather.  We noted that in our absence, Hurricane’s Karen and Lorenzo were spinning just off the coast.  Karen, after threatening the Caribbean, had lost a little puff, weakening to Tropical Storm intensity.  Lorenzo had other ideas and was busy building muscle to Cat 5, with an eye on the Azores.  Our guests were just so pleased we had managed to arrange for a little memento or two of their visit to east-coast US; aptly named if you know the Magpies.  Gotta love September!

Fall colours were about (some artfully arranged), everywhere else though

Off the Hook

On Sunday, 8^th September, we found ourselves free, free at last, heading down Chesapeake Bay to Norfolk with an entourage of flies of all persuasions and of course, our very fat and happy boatyard spider, Herbert.   Both tide and wind were in our favour, so we set a cracking 8kts with the genoa up (and motor on – it is the Chesapeake after all!) for our first and longest (five hour) voyage this season.

Our departure delays up to this point had been many and varied; mostly to do with ongoing maintenance issues – WJ3 is 19 years old after all!  Plans to sail up the Potomac to Washington and eventually, even the one to visit Tangier Island from Reedville, one day’s sail away, were crossed off the list.  Power problems our trusty Cap’n had thought he’d tamed, surfaced yet again.  We had been living off solar power alone – very noble of course, but not sufficient to recharge needy gadgets.  GS continued her daily visits to the Sailor’s Lounge with its plentiful supply of electricity, aircon and not-so-cranky company.   

Of course, there were other diversions.  Out sailing with Bill on Aeolus.

A spanking new alternator arrived and the Cap’n with text book diligence, fitted it in place.  All seemed to work well, only we were just short of Labor Day weekend, a three-day salute to the end of summer, school holidays and usually a boating frenzy.  We decided to sit it out, with our anchor well dug into muddy Jackson Creek, rather than tempt fate in other popular locations.  It all came to naught however with Dorian, a hulking hurricane monster moving painfully slowly in our direction.

The Lounge TV was locked on the Weather Channel, reports of the massive damage to the Bahamas unfolded and predictions, most scientific and others quite irrational, were made.  Friday (6^th) was forecast as our day to meet Dorian, although with less damaging winds (down from 85 to 60mph**) and high tides/flooding.  Like most other boaters, we took down sails and canvas and prepared our boat.  On Thursday we moved into a floating dock on the Marina (with 20 ft piles) and strapped WJ3 and Bruce (the dinghy) down for the big blow.  Yes, we were edgy.

**1mph=1.6km/h; I'm too lazy to convert

And even more excuses
We can't go now.  A crab has taken up residence on our anchor chain...

Obstructions to the right (starboard) of us.
 Thimble Shoal Lighthouse

Fortunately, at Cape Hatteras, Dorian moved further out to sea and we were spared the worst.  In our safe spot protected by surrounding pine forests, winds gusted to high 40’s.  A couple of the fixed docks went underwater with higher than normal tides.  A day of rain helped wash off the boat (the Cap’n was happy) and plugged into Marina power, GS was happy.  Even the boatyard spider survived (and was happy).

So, it was in a state of cheerfulness that Cap’n and crew finally set forth on this season’s “maiden” run down the Bay.  Although, we had promised Dock Master Dennis to be back in a week! 

And Traffic to the left (port) of us

Still Treading Water

Jacksons Creek: 31 July 2019

WJ3 never far away: Marina in foreground,
WJ3 with dinghy, Bruce, at back, way out on the Creek. 

We’re cruizin’ on up to month TWO in Jackson Creek.  There may (or may not) be an end in sight to our stay here.  The spaghetti of wires that runs throughout the boat for all things electrical has been exposed, corralled and hog-tied…   So far, and fingers crossed, it all seems to be working (as long as the sun is shining!) and ALL the batteries are charging.  The saloon is now ablaze at night with blue lights and WJ3’s electrical panel resplendent in tiny red dots.  Quite the party!  Let’s hope we don’t have too many overnighters on our float plan – night vision near the chart table might be a bit of an issue.

A pretty sunset over Jackson Creek 

So, what else have we been up to?  Cap’n Valiant has weathered a few big blows down the creek (30-35 kts). A hot spell, in sympathy with Europe’s trend-setting summer bake, has scorched us here setting off regular entertainment in the evenings of wind, lightning and rain.  The geese got fed up and have flown back to Canada for some respite.   

Trouble on the way

Another storm, another day, but at least it's moving fast
 and the lightning has missed us

We’ve eaten crabs, crab cakes and crab dip until we can’t look at a crab any more (at least, for this week. Maybe..).  We’ve cruised the farmer’s markets at the Deltaville Maritime Museum, eaten hot dogs and s’mores, attended an ice-cream social, provided light entertainment for a boater’s weekend gathering - a gam (it means a school of whales; also a friendly visit/conversation between whalers at sea or ashore) at the marina, and enjoyed an evening blues concert.  Swimming is out now that sea nettles are in (stinging jellyfish) but it’s all ok, the pool is open for business.  Not that we’ve had time to use it.  Walmart trips (a 45 min drive to Gloucester) come up on Fridays for those hard-to-find products, the farm is selling cheap scallops - real ones - and local gift shops need our support.  And if it all gets too much, then there’s an air-conditioned lounge with TV and on-tap coffee to hide in.  We might never leave.  Except the staff keep asking if they can help get the anchor up. 

That mess below will be cleaned up...soon

A real big one! Oh, my...

Dock Master Dennis & Kris,
socially serving ice-cream

Heather & Bill, beer & blues

Home grown blues down on Jackson Creek

Well, we’d like to keep chatting but Kenny’s been out for his daily catch (crab pots) and is boiling them up in the marina shack.  That, Sugar, means it’s beer time, so we’re just a bit busy right now… 

Hands on Hips

X-ing File #5_Antigua to Bahamas (perhaps) continues…

Bahamas: George Town

We planned to only stay 3 but 5 nights passed too quickly in the friendly and safe South Side Marina.  Given our boat chores (yet another electrician to see to our electrical woes), a dinner out with other cruisers (organised by Matt, from our dinghy welcome committee), Kiwi’s to chat to and evenings at Bob’s Bar, we lost track of time.  It’s a great place to be. 

Turtle Rock near Sapodilla Bay  anchorage in Turks & Caicos..
Oh come on, use your imagination! 

A nasty weather system (actually a cyclone) to our north kicked up quite a swell and on our way to the supermarket, we caught sight of huge waves crashing over the reef on T&C’s north shore.  GS was not keen to leave, but our Cap’n had little sympathy (the toughen up princess variety), so off we set to slide out of the Funnel into the wild blue yonder to make for the Bahamas.  The Funnel was not too bad an exit all things considered, however the swell, once we were out in it, was almost Pacific Ocean stuff – big rollers giving us an elevator ride.

Looking back over the T&C Bank from The Funnel

For a change of pace, we headed east to come up the inside of Acklins Island and made for the Clarence Town harbour (on Long Island).  Waves crashing into the harbour reminded us of winter storms off the Victorian coast.  Not. Good.  While the Cap’n assessed his chances of surfing in, GS prepared the life raft and her speech for the moment of mutiny.  Fortunately, it did not come to this and we sped on and into the night for an early morning arrival at George Town.  “We” considered the merits of the first protected cut (an entrance across the reef onto the bank) for calm waters and safety.  It too, would have put us side on to swell breaking over the reef – a dangerous sport, so we moved on to the next cut with fingers crossed.  It was wide and deep enough with less challenging breakers and we watched as several boats made early morning departures.  If they could get out, we could surf in. 

Yes, I'm sure we can get in, somehow....

Yes, we did.  In one piece.  Here's proof.

The busy anchorage though calm-ish, held other dangers.  A cranky boat owner asked us (nicely) to move away from him.  We clearly export our best overseas.  Too tired to argue, we moved on and dropped anchor not far from the early morning aqua-aerobics class on the beach.  George Town has a “resident” community of boaters – perhaps 200-300 – who arrive annually to spend a pleasant winter in the tropical paradise that is the Bahamas.  Masthead lights twinkled at night across the broad bay giving it the look of fairyland.  “We could easily do this”, sighed GS…

View from our very nice lunch stop, Blu on the Water

Doesn't every Supermarket have a dingy dock? George Town, Bahamas

A Dot in the Ocean

Madeira

Porto Santo (Holy Port) was famously discovered by shipwrecked sailors in 1418.  At the time, Prince Henry the Navigator had ambitious plans to develop the Portuguese Empire, so was quick to take up the advantages this tiny island off the African coast offered.  Less than 80 years later, Christopher Columbus, on-route to discover the Americas, spotted its potential (strategic position) as well.  Given that we’ve read Madeira’s highest peak is visible from 40km, we couldn’t understand how early settlers could have missed noticing it.  Instead they reported “heavy black clouds” to the south and on further inspection, found the island of Madeira underneath them.  Strangely enough, that’s just how we found it too - Porto Santo, bathed in the afternoon sun, and hovering, dark gray clouds a further 20 miles on. 

Taken from a bus window ....

Our charts reveal staggering depths close to Madeira, hence few “anchorage” options, but a cloak of cloud concealed steep hillsides (and lots of hiking Germans).  Even more surprising, are the terraced gardens, more Nepal than Europe, and the Islanders’ notoriety as agriculturalists, eking out a living on a volcanic cone that rises some 6km from the floor of the Atlantic Ocean.  (The last volcanic activity is said to have been 6,500 years ago, so we feel ok about being here…)

Madeira means “wood”, although little is left of that 1.8 million year old indigenous forest.  The island’s climate has three distinct zones, depending on how far up those hills you are prepared to climb.  Just getting from the marina (at sea level) to the nearby bus stop outside the resort is all the exercise we need.  Australian gardeners would certainly recognise many of the plants, especially the vines (for that famous drop, Madeira) and bananas.  Another home-grown world-wide export is Cristiano Ronaldo.  For those who don’t know, he’s a famous soccer player, although one has to wonder where they found enough flat ground to actually build a footie field.

Perfect one day (for a few hours at least!)

Positively horrible the next.

It’s a likeable island, attractive and clean, although winter is probably not the best time to be here, even if it is warmer than the rest of Europe.  Over the last two days we’ve been being battered by 25+kt winds from storms sweeping across the Atlantic.  Thankfully, we’re protected from the swell (this time) but not from gusts rolling down those steep hills behind.  The Cap’n has been busy, in the rain, tending mooring lines, swapping thin with robust and adding more to ensure we stay safely confined within our berth.  Hmmm!  Must be time to move on.

Detained on Elba

La Spezia, Italy

The island of Elba was next on our list, so we planned to break the journey mid-way at an anchorage sheltered from prevailing winds.  Despite an adverse current, we made good time with a pleasant southerly pushing us along.  Yes, we even sailed for a few hours!  However, the southerly freshened up in the late afternoon and it became apparent that our anchorage would be less than attractive in the onshore swell.  The Cap’n consulted various weather oracles and declared that despite a forecast late evening change, we could make it to Elba, albeit in the early hours.  There was only 40 miles to go. 

At dusk, with 20nm down and off an aptly named Giglio (actually it means lilies) we experienced a couple of strange events.  Firstly, a large fishing boat was towing another, whilst a small coast guard boat danced around them.  We provided some much needed relief from the tedium obviously, so this occasioned the flashing light and a momentary chase to ensure we were well out of the way.  We didn’t have the VHF radio on, and there was little point anyway given our limited language skills. We wondered what they said to us... 

The next item of interest was a low line of grey cloud hovering in our path.  It looked so low, GS was concerned the mast would touch it – reliving memories of lightning strikes off the US coast.  “Ah,” said the Cap’n, “that would be our front arriving.  Predicted winds from the NW (yes, our direction to Elba, of course) at 10-15kts.”  We also noticed clouds piling up along the coast. 

Passing through the front was fine, the waters disturbed but not challenging.  Breaking free of it however told another story.  Winds built up to 20-25 kts fairly quickly and with a steep swell and current against us, the last miles in trampoline conditions took FOREVER.  GS succumbed in the final hours yet managed, whilst clutching the bucket, to assist our heroic Cap’n furl the main at the mast (the furling line in the cockpit was slipping).  Equipment difficulties  always seem to occur in dreadful conditions!  Finally an anchorage on the south coast of Elba was in site - in the dead of night and two hours later than predicted.  After watching an incredible electrical display from a line of storm cells dotted along the coast, we crashed, without dinner. 

So, what does a red sky a night really mean...a howling gale again tomorrow?
This is our anchorage on Elba

Set the riding sail. 
All hands on deck... now!! 

We spent 3 days locked in Golfo Stella as wind howled over us.  We were spinning like a top on anchor, so had to set up the riding sail.

 Thankfully our trusty anchor held - and so did those on (most) other boats.  

When conditions settled somewhat, the Cap’n took Bruce out for a spin to see the lay of the land.  Despite the number of boats at anchor, there was little civilization (unless your need was for a beach umbrella and sun lounge) and nowhere to go.  

It seems that we had been caught between the Mistrale that blows through the Gulf of Lyon in France (at 35kts) and a Bora (40kts) blowing over Italy from Croatia.  So, rather like Napoleon, we too were detained on Elba.  At least he had a fashionable townhouse, a country villa (furnished with a mistress, naturally), servants and a navy (but only one ship – just like us!).

Not to be outdone, we at least did not suffer quite the same fate as Percy Byce Shelley in 1822.  Sadly, this poet, famous even at the young age of 30, drowned in the Gulf of Spezia area after a storm overtook his sailboat while he was visiting Livorno. His body washed ashore weeks later.

Finally, a brief respite in conditions presented itself, so it was yet another early rise and long day motoring to seek shelter in the expansive harbour and pleasant village of Le Grazie.  This, we decided, was as far north as we planned to go.  The Mistrale had been far too a regular companion of Med France since we started watching forecasts in Naples.  Anchoring in strong winds, in busy, choppy harbours would not be enjoyable.  We would make for Corsica and then on to the Balearics.  After a few days rest and some more sightseeing, it would be –“Spain, (to haulout) here we come!!

•  (We are slightly behind with the blog at this stage and as the plan is to head off first thing for Corsica tomorrow - for a brief interlude - we may not have internet until the Balearics.  If nothing else, the map & tracker will be updated when the opportunity presents itself.  Florence is just more photos of statues and paintings anyway!)

Predicting Weather – An Ancient Skill

Weather and winds have long since provoked tales; some quite mysterious and others founded in truths.  Homer tells us that Odysseus (a mere 300nm from his home on Ithica) was blown off course near Cape Maleas for more than ten years.  Athenian General Themistocles used the force of strong north winds to gain victory over 400 Persian ships at Salamis in 480 BC.  Not to mention Octavian’s (Augustus Caesar) victory in 31 BC against Cleopatra & Mark Antony right here in our very own neighbourhood of Aktio (formerly Actium).  Even today, winds in Tarifa, Spain (think Pillars of Hercules) are considered very good for windsurfing or very bad, triggering dramatically high suicide rates, or so we heard.

So, with an hour to spare after a rather too enjoyable breakfast at the Athens Centre Square Hotel, we decided that it was worth a walk to see if the Tower of the Winds had been unveiled following 2 years of extensive restoration works.  Although sited in the Roman Agora precinct, the marble tower dates back to the 1^st c BC, and is thought to have been built by a Macedonian astronomer from Kyrrhos as a horologion or time piece.  Think how useful that is in sailing terms, especially for sailors who, in the not so distant past, used sextants!  This amazing octagonal construction stands over 12m tall with an 8m girth.  It was once bedecked with a bronze wind vane, Triton with a metal rod in his hand of course, and had a spring-fed water clock attached.  Its decorated faces afforded use as a compass**, sundial and  informant of seasonal weather predictions.  The ancients had a great respect for predictions….

The tower’s relief carvings, eight grumpy Ai Areides (or Windy Ones), is quite something.  We had hoped to meet Mr Meltemi in order to lodge our various complaints.  Instead we met Boreas, known for a violent temper and cold north winds that bring on winter.  Boreas blows rather too heartily into a conch shell (does this mean a gusting wind?) and as he is sometimes depicted with snakes for feet, we decided to leave well enough alone. 

Vaguely wondering if Mediterranean Wind Gods are ever truly appeased, we left before our not-so-pious thoughts were noted and we became singled out as future fodder for Mt Olympus’s Gusty Games.  We’ll just take it on the nose, like Odysseus.  Catch you in ten years!!

This is Kaikais - a dark NE wind with hailstones in his shield

** A true compass was not heard of until more than 1000 years later. 

Days of Idyll (not quite)

Chios, Greece

WJ3 at the Town Dock, Mytilene, Greece

The day came to clear out of Turkey’s tranquil waters (so far, so good) and travel across to the Greek island of Lesbos.  We hoisted our Greek courtesy and yellow clearance (the only goodie two-shoes to fly one) flags and set sail for Mytilene, thankfully not far away.  

We were whistled into the immigration/customs dock by a rather attractive member of the Mytilene Port Police and the Cap’n dashed off to get his paperwork (carbon copied in triplicate) certified and cruising permits organised.  This took the rest of the day….

Greece but showing a distinct Italian flavour

With little daylight left, our plan to anchor on the island’s south – poised to cross to Chios early next day – were dashed; two choices then, marina or town dock.  At €6 per night for the dock, we thought we’d give town life a go.  We found ourselves in the heart of Mytilene and despite promenading townsfolk (a regular evening habit) and traffic, had only steps to take to restaurants, an exceedingly helpful Vodafone store (to arrange internet access) and pork sausages.  Whilst we enjoyed our stay in Turkey, Mytilene was like a breath of fresh air.

Sails up, leaning over & NO engine! Whoohoo!  Sailing downwind with the Meltemi.

We left early next morning, primarily to ensure GS did not strangle the lone bass guitarist, still playing to late night revellers at a near-by club.  The crossing to Chios was slow due to wind-crossing-current chop but eventually a decent breeze cropped up to give us a nice push down the coast.  With a few days of nasty winds forecast, we decided to check out an unfinished marina north of Chios Harbour.  Although all spaces had been taken on the quay, one of the fingers was free and we proceeded in with a truly spectacular docking display.  It took us all of 40 minutes to tie up (using winches) – side on in escalating 18-20kt winds.  The gathered collection of cruising yachties watched in silence; the other Aussie boat left next morning without a word or wave… 

Ancient Windmills seen from our unfinished marina berth, Chios

So here we are currently pinned, like bugs under glass.  In winds currently roaring over, gusting occasionally over 40kts.  For at least 3 more days (it’s been two already).  WJ3 is heeled over as if she’s on an ocean going passage, the Cap’n is making chafe collars for the now, 8 mooring lines and GS finds solace in the lee berth at night.  Ahhhh, the Meltemi has found us…..

Blowing a near gale (F7-8) in Chios

 

From: Ayvalik Turkey Lat/Long: 39:17.434N 26:39.884E Date/Time: 1/07/14: 0800
To: Chios, Greece Lat/Long: 38:23.206N 26:08.342E Date/Time: 1/07/14: 1600
Time Taken: 68nm (12hrs) Distance (this year): 416.5nm (72.5hrs)
Distance Total (since 2008): 13749.5nm   Weather: Northerlies avg. 25-35kts, G44kts;
Fastest Speed: 7.8kts in 18.5kt winds - under sail

Plummeting Gulls Gale

Pupa Yat Anchorage, Marmaris, Turkey

I’ve decided to name this gale after the giant gulls that seem to be the only ones really enjoying themselves at this very moment.  The pilot notes that historically, a number of “regular” gales are named after birds.  So here they are swooping and soaring in gusts anywhere between 20-40 kts.   Others, gathered over an exposed sandbank, seem to be leaping and hopping in a mad crowd wave, all rather pleased with themselves.  It could be gale choreographed hi-jinks.

We, on the other hand, are happy daylight offers visibility – a necessity when anchors are dragging, boat dinghies flipping and tempers flaring.   We’re also grateful that our little discussion with the excitable Italians late last night (at 9pm) gave the Cap’n the sh*ts, providing him with incentive to move closer to shore.  Those six gulets currently hogging the shoreline (med moored) have hardly moved; WJ3 has fared only slightly worse whilst those further out in the anchorage are really copping it. 

The Cap’n is reporting in with his truth seeking binoculars on general activities and we’ve even snooped on a VHF radio call or two.  Who needs TV?  This is only our third day out and so far we’re grateful that WJ3’s basics are holding up ok.  Big Bertha (our Rochna anchor) is again being a dream girl while we spin and whirl to the tune of those nasty gusts.  Our decks are covered in fine red sand; a sure sign that Africa’s sand dunes march irrevocably toward Europe.  Meanwhile, the Italians are still giving us clandestine glances....

Waiting, waiting... for the gale to end

 From: Marmaris, Turkey Lat/Long: 36:49.173N 28:18.475E Date/Time: 2/06/14: 1600
To: Marmaris, Turkey Lat/Long: 36:49.555N 28:18.899E Date/Time: 3/06/14: 2100
Time Taken: 0.5nm (hrs) Distance (this year): 0.5nm (hrs)
Distance Total (since 2008): 13333.5nm   Weather: Unsettled;
Fastest Speed: under motor (sails released from their bags for the season & put up out on the anchorage)

And now for some Launch Photos:

Our "backyard" views.  The Cap'n is off to find our splash time.

Firstly, we're given a dink

Then, it's the BIG lift again

Jolly Jack Tars: Weather or Not

This will simply be a review of our weather experiences as we dashed headlong for 20 days into the wild blue yonder, bouncing east across The Pond for the Azores.

What else can we say?  There was lots of salty water, thankfully not too much in the boat and plenty of sky, floodlit at night with stars and a waxing moon.  Somehow our world became fringed by WJ3’s stanchions and embroiled in days of our lives dramatics as GS’s tried valiantly to get daily satellite connections for our weather reports.  Our daily highlight was a voice in the ether – Herb – our weather prophet, who gave us daily readings and directed progress over the HF radio.  Admiral Lord Nelson would have killed to get Herb’s services.

Storm at Sea_Is this the Bermuda Triangle?

Having left Great Kills finally, a day later that planned (the fuel dock owner was busy refuelling his hungry beast) we headed east.  Hail to Mary, Neptune & Garnesh!  After giving us a gentle bollicking for starting late, Herb sent us on a SE track to avoid a huge & nasty front coming down from Newfoundland.  Thus began our descent down to 37 degrees, somewhere in the vicinity of an amazing line of lightning storms (harbouring an entrance to the Bermuda Triangle perhaps?) and almost back to Cape May.  Been here before?

Our efforts to stay ahead of the front saw us languishing in calms – 4 in the first 8 days….until we could stand the rock/roll/twist/up/down/jiggle no more and the Cap’n motored north for an hour….into a squall of 35kts.  Still it was taking us in the right direction (east) so we tightened our tethers and clung to WJ3 as she frolicked with pilot whales and surfed the Gulf Stream, confident in stronger winds. 

We settled in for a couple of good days and a chance encounter with War Ship 64, who was kind enough to enquire after our health and well being.  After 10 days out for us, they probably thought they’d come across a ship of lost souls gibbering at the moon.  Their news was of a gale heading our way so we battened down and got out 3 days of hard tack in preparation.

Our Cap’n weathered out the gale (40+kt winds & rather large seas which lasted 24 hours thankfully), then managed some sleep after we settled into strong souwesterlies for another couple of days.  We made up some good miles then!  In the gale’s wake however (days 15-17), we experienced  more “variable winds” before a strong southerly had us bashing into it.  Rock, rattle & roll; back to hard rations. 

Pilot Whales in the Gulf Stream

The grey skies vanished on day 18 with the southerly and we resumed our pleasant (but slow) sailing conditions.  We finished with a flourish – becalmed again! – but made it to the south coast of Flores (Flowers) in the Azores having been under sail most of our 20 days at sea.

Despite warnings about entering strange harbours at night, we were keen to touch bottom and get a hook into a sandy bay.  We crawled into Porto Das Lajes and anchored behind an impressive breakwater, hoping that the morning would not find us floating amongst coastal freighters in our snug spot.  Had a wine or two that night, I can tell you!

(Those interested can follow our path on WJ3’s tracker – currently with a few holes in it.  Satellites can be so fickle!). 

From:	Great Kills Harbor, Staten Is	To:	Flores, Porto Das Lajes
Lat/Long:	40:32.5400N  74:07.9210W	Lat/Long:	39:22.7630N  31:10.0490W
Date/Time:	27/7/11: 0820	Date/Time:	15/8/11: 2320
Time Taken:	2735.4nm (481hrs)
Distance:	3627.9nm (628.5hrs) (this year)	Dist Total	8999.9nm (since 2008)
Weather:	Variable - 1 mighty gale, 2 driving squalls, 7 days becalm-ed and a War Ship in a Gulf Stream (ok, ok!)
Fastest Speed:	Sailed all except for an hour of motoring; 9kts or more in the gale