Downhill to Flying Fish Country

X-ing File #3_ Canaries to Cape Verdes

The Kiwi’s near us on the same dock were leaving Saturday (30th December 2017).  We decided to take the plunge too.  The first day was a fine trip (read – we initially motored as the wind was slight!).  As they say, all good things must end – and so it did!  Had we just enjoyed downwind sailing conditions offered by constant trade winds, things might have been ok.  However, nature did what nature does best, so we had an accompanying swell from recent (and probably far away) Atlantic storms on one quarter and to even the odds, more swell from the east.  When all three met, we rocked and rolled in variable 25+ knot winds, making life rather unpleasant.  At least we moved with some speed, even maxing out at 8kn as we surfed the swell.  Just as well the Cap’n had earned his surfing stripes in the Faro canal earlier this year.

Somehow, we punched on through, winds abated and we settled into more manageable conditions.  That’s not to say that the rocking and rolling stopped.  Still, we were kept amused.  A pod of dolphins, numbering in the hundreds, visited over two days, showing off with an impressive and daring display of acrobatics and speed surfing.  They can spin on a dime…  We also saw, rather closely, a pilot whale and later, a turtle who looked as if he was planning to swim to the Canaries overarm.  On the seventh and final day of this leg, we were escorted into Mindelo Harbour (and wonderful, calm waters, woohoo!) by a family of birds.  It seems our wake disrupts their favourite snack - tasty flying fish; we certainly had accumulated quite the collection on WJ3's deck over the week.

So, just what do sailors do over these days at sea.  The Cap’n tells me he thinks of maintaining Windjammer’s forward momentum, weather and food.  Obviously, safety is an issue as is sleep.  We normally do 2 hour “shifts” at night (from dusk to dawn) and doze during the day to recover any lost sleep.  Shifts are filled in with checking the horizon for shipping (at 10 minute intervals), there’s sails to adjust, routes to plot & record (write our log), books to read, music to listen to and if conditions allow, a little deck dancing for exercise.  Meals are simple and very plain (mostly prepared by the Cap’n if it’s rough).  Bert Hydrovane (our self-steering gear) does an outstanding job as the third “man” and best of all, he’s cheap to keep and doesn’t complain.

The best thing on passage is seeing land, hopefully, our destination.  We still remember the sweet smell of mother earth wafting off Flores (Azores, 2011) after 20 days at sea…. 

(We're about to head off and take the long plunge across to Barbados, leaving any internet connections behind - for now at least!  It should take about 20 days or so, and as we will not be posting on route, the best place to follow our track is from the "map & tracker" tab above.  Don't worry if you see us drop to the latitudes of Brazil, it's probably GS entering numbers into our satellite coms system in the wrong order - again! Once in the Caribbean, it will be back to catch-as-catch-can cafe internet connections, so things could slow down for a while.  Wish us luck!!)  

Chasing Columbus

Las Palmas, Canary Islands

After a rather layzee Christmas Day, and with a plan to head off in a few days (the weather looked promising), we needed to pedal off those few pounds gained so took to an extensive network of bike paths.  We followed the foreshore route behind the marina down to Veguela, the historic precinct and site of the original settlement in 1478. 

Canary Yellow used in profusion in Old Veguela

A walk past the markets roused our appetite, so we continued roaming narrow cobbled streets looking for something tempting.  We found a hole-in-the-wall eatery just around the corner from the Columbus museum where we feasted on a delightful selection of homemade tapas, GS hurriedly writing notes as our host detailed his creations.  Thus energised, we set off to explore Casa de Colon (House of Columbus).

Tapas for Lunch.  With coffee as only local's can drink it
 & that's all you get in a cup!

Don’t you just love those old-style villas (after the Roman model) where solid walls present to the street shielding occupants from noise and presumably attackers.  Rooms line these walls and from balconies, fine views can be had over a central courtyard garden, a well or water feature.  This was not, of course, Columbus’s house but rather one owned by an official who was sufficient in rank to be entertaining (and accommodating) The Admiral of the Ocean Sea.  The building itself has been beautifully restored, including deep cellars and a tunnel network.  Rooms now hold various displays giving insight into those historic and world-changing four voyages.  Detail is added with descriptions of life on board, a collection of seriously old maps (including Piri Reis*), souvenired Central American pottery & statues and fascinating terrain models, one of thin layers of cork, detailing Veguela’s layout in the late 15^th c.

One of the rather impressive doorways into Casa de Colon

Birds with style & attitude

A replica of Columbus's Cabin
befitting the Admiral of the Ocean Seas at the Museum

From Casa de Colon, we circled the Cathedral hoping to see inside.  It was not our day but at least we had two other options; one a lift to the bell tower and the second, a gallery of sacred art.  The Cap’n rolled his eyes at the thought of yet another art collection, so we took in the stunning views over the port and busy city-scape of Las Palmas.  Back down to earth, we sat in the Cathedral square, decorated with dog statues and palms, listening to a chattering green parrot.  No canaries made themselves obvious in the canary island date palms fronds, so we made for the nearest supermarket to begin provisioning for the trip ahead.

Las Palmas Cathedral 

(*The Admiral Piri Reis Map created in Constantinople in 1513 is said to challenge conventional understanding of world history.  Notions of a vanished civilization are explored in Graham Hancock’s book, “Fingerprints of the Gods” and whether you subscribe to his theories or not, the read and the ride back in history really does make you think.  And no, its not related to that other best-selling nonsense (but a fun read), “Chariots of the Gods”.)

Gone to the Dogs

Las Palmas, Canary Islands

Crazy things happen at Street Corners
in Las Palmas

Welcome to Spain!  The Canaries are made up of seven larger islands with a few smaller ones thrown in for good measure.  Largely volcanic, they’re steep sided and subject to interesting wind conditions, known locally as WAZ (wind acceleration zones) that can, in the blink of an eye, obliterate a sail or spinnaker.  So, if the volcanoes don’t get you, the katabatics just might!  Being located in the path of the north-east trades, the islands are regularly visited by sailboats heading for the Caribbean – as once they were by galleons needing to resupply before heading off for the New World.  Galleons or caravels have been replaced by the Atlantic Rally for Cruisers (ARC), a mammoth annual rally to cross the Atlantic to the Caribbean, this year hosting some 255 boats.  Yes, Las Palmas Marina is huge (1250 berths).  The marinero who assisted our docking told us that even now, a further 80 boats were waiting to cross directly.  An anchorage outside the marina holds, at last count, a further 37 punters biding time too.  A busy little sailboat super-highway…

As you can see, skies were grey so it is hard to see
the forest of masts in just our corner of the Marina

These islands were initially called “Fortunate” and appear to have a history dating back to 200 BC.  Phoenicians (in search of murex shellfish for valuable Tyrian dye), Egyptians, Europeans, Arabs and Berbers visited leaving their indelible mark on islands that later became known as Insulae Canium, The Island of Dogs.  Whilst it’s understood this was due to the numbers and size of dogs roaming the islands, it is also speculated that it was home to a north African tribe, the Canarii.  The islands are positively bursting with maritime history and favourite names such as Columbus (1492), Drake (1595) and Nelson (who lost his arm in a battle of Tenerife, 1797) converged on this vital conduit for valuable cargoes, including slaves, brought back by trading ships from Africa, the Orient or the Americas. 

Now it’s cruise ships that ply this popular route.  At one stage we counted 6 monoliths, including the famous dark blue hull of the Queen Elizabeth.  In Elizabethan times, sailors found their own special attraction here in the form of canary-sack or malmsey (fortified) wines.  We did wonder just what exactly it is that attracts current visitors; that said, the economy appears to be booming.  Masses of modern high-rise apartment blocks cling to steep-sided landscapes, traffic speeds with intent along motorways, resorts are in high demand and planes land with hardly any interval as northern Europeans escape to a warmer, balmier climate of this undoubtedly Spanish enclave. 

Living the High Life for Christmas Lunch 2017

To be fair, we really did not do justice to this (almost) tropical island, nor did we have time (or will to beat against the trades) to visit the others.  However, we found enough to keep us amused.  The Cap’n sourced some chandlery bargains and Las Palmas’ busy shopping precinct provided us with duty free Moet Champagne and fresh lobster (live and cooked by the Cap’n) for our Christmas Lunch.  The butcher’s display in El Corte Inglés (a David Jones equivalent) was equally as impressive; the Spanish sure know how to celebrate!  So, we don’t always have it so tough.

Never Leave on a Friday

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...

Ongoing Risky Business

Funchal, Madeira

After 3 long days of lockdown on board due to yet more passing storms, the Motley Crew decided it was time to shake out the land-legs with a day out.  So here then are a few more of our “touristico” undertakings in pleasant downtown Funchal:

#6.  Eat Unusual Things

During our wanderings we stopped to breakfast with Prince Charles (actually a café serving local snacks and that shot of strong coffee we so badly needed).  We also tried scabbard fish, crumbed then served on a sweet potato bread roll with a hit of chilli.  (We instantly thought of Galata Bridge fish sandwiches, Istanbul.  Not quite the same!)  Never having eaten roasted chestnuts, they were on our list too.  And off it immediately – they must be an acquired taste! 

Roasted Chestnuts. Not for everyone....

A stroll through the Mercado dos Lavradores (market) perked us up however as we watched fishmongers chop huge tuna steaks and came eye to eye with the razor-toothed grin of black-skinned, scabbard fish.  Further in, colourful displays of tropical fruits (tamarillos, custard apples, gooseberries and philodendron fruits) set amidst curtains of drying chillies competed with buckets of showy flowers, handcrafted embroidery and Camacha wickerwork.

Cherries for HOW much?

Adding traditional colour & song to Christmas Market festivities

The Christmas Market was another matter entirely.  It became our favourite last stop of the day.  Tasting four varieties of Madeira wine was essential, washed down with a local beer.  The best sedative for the bus ride back proved to be the much-loved poncho.  A shot of this lethal brew, made from distilled cane sugar juice (white rum?) mixed with honey and a healthy shot of fruit juice, burned our throats and chilled us out rather nicely, thank you. 

#7.  Look to the Past

Funchal offers museums a-plenty, so finally GS settled on visiting one, enchantingly titled “The Universe of Memories”.  Full of nostalgia and memorabilia, this well cared for and very elegant 19^th C townhouse, was once home for Joao Carlos Abreu and his family.  It now houses the many and rather eclectic collections amassed by Abreu on his world travels.  Collections are sensitively displayed through-out the house, keeping each room’s basic function in mind.  Ties almost overpower you in Abreu’s dressing room, ancient Chinese pottery or Indonesian carvings offset modernist paintings in the sitting room and horses, a definite passion, monopolise space in a cluster of small upstairs rooms.  (No photos allowed inside, hence the long-winded description. Photos on this local Madeira blog though.)

Garden Fountain

Cobbled Entrance to Abreu's Townhouse

After a quick pot of tea and a scone (served in cute, vintage crockery) beside the fountain in the Tea Lounge, it was off to walk the historic core of Funchal.  After a brief stop at the old City Gates, we crossed into the 15^th C Old Town with its narrow, cobbled streets and ancient buildings.  Many doors down on Dom Carlos & Santa Maria, are painted (some rather better than others) adding to the quirky ambiance of the area and uplifting the rather extraordinary, yellow painted, Sao Tiago (Saint James) Fort.  The fort, on its rocky foreshore, starkly reminded us of Madeira’s remoteness.  The area now, is packed to the hilt with restaurants.  Running the gauntlet of staff, well accustomed to soliciting attentions to their finest dishes, made us appreciate our quiet marina even more. 

Sao Tiago Fort

Happy Snappers

#8.  Dance with the Devil

Funchal’s Cathedral dates from 1514 and is one of the few buildings remaining from Madeira’s early colonisation.  Inside this Gothic delight, a dark and gloomy interior allows the carved and gilded figures of saints above the choir stalls to shine like stars.  Again, this chunky building speaks volumes of Madeira’s remoteness and survival during those heady days of the Portuguese Age of Discovery.  (Wealth from the spice trade in later years allowed development of a more exotic Manueline style; a showy architecture, Eastern influenced and very Portuguese version of the Renaissance and more readily found in Lisbon.) 

Fresco outside the Madeira Cathedral_another way of hiking perhaps?

#9. Take a Hike

In an effort to cultivate the island’s steep slopes, early settlers had to construct terraced gardens and levadas, irrigation channels, to ensure adequate water supplies.  In all, the levada system runs some 1400km over an island barely 57 x 22km.  Paths beside them provide ready-made hiking trails and if you’re keen, a good day’s workout.  Having suffered the Cinque Terre in Italy, the Cap’n baulked at the thought.  So did GS when she realised this was hiking for the serious.  Of the four recommended walks, only one was described as easy; the greater challenge was having to travel to the remote upper island by bus, a feat in itself.  Another offered a path “very narrow in places and not recommended for those susceptible to vertigo”.  Stories of cows rolling down hills in Flores during high winds (Azores) came to mind and the risk seemed just too high.

#10.  Christmas Lights & Delights

Now, do I really need to explain why this is risky??

Merry Christmas to family, friends and those brave souls who check in on our boating life & adventures.  We wish you all the best for the festive season and only ask that you save us some left-overs from that fabulous Christmas feast you have planned.  Baby Dexter has timed it just right to hang up a Christmas stocking and Santa’s on his way, Miss Phoenix!  We’ll miss you all.

Risky Business

Funchal, Madeira

So, just when does the fun actually begin?

Life in Madeira is more exciting than you might think.  We’ve compiled a list of our favourite “Risky Things”, just in case you ever find yourself in need of a more stimulating life:

#1.  Take A Local Bus

Now, I’m not talking a Funchal city ride.  The one out to Baia da Abra, the extreme east of Madeira, is sufficient.  Boa Viagem and all that!  Snaking, narrow roads, vertigo-inducing cliffs and passing an airport runway built on stilts.  And bus drivers whose ambition is firmly set on Formula One.  We survived the 1 ½ hour trip (several times), but not without some trauma given the smell of burning breaks.  Locals don’t even flinch.  At the Airport, a car hire firm advertises: "MadeiraRent, Drive like a local".  On board the bus, tourists can’t help but snigger.  Every time.  Locals must wonder but WE have badges of merit now – local bus tickets.

Super Glue your car to the roads in Madeira

#2.  Walk in the Sky

OK, so this is not going to be one of those Extreme Sports, but taking a walk over the glass floor of Europe’s highest Cape (and the World’s second highest I might add), certainly sends a chill up or two down your spine.  There is nothing but a sheer 575m drop down and if the clouds lift, the views are spectacular.  As are most of the views as you travel around Madeira.  We took a wild train ride up.  The roads were even narrower and steeper than #1 above.  Yes, our train driver must be related to Jack Brabham too.

Trying very hard not to look down_Cabo Girao

#3. Couch Surfing

Monte is uphill from Funchal.  We took the bus, but it is possible to take a Cable Car.  It’s a pleasant hill resort area and departure point for the wicker toboggans, famous since 1850, for getting locals downhill fast.  Two Carreiros, suitably dressed in traditional costume and straw boaters, use their shoes as brakes in a stunning 2km slide downhill on a very steep and well-polished track.  It looks so very touristy but it was the most fun we’d had in ages (and no comparison to sliding down breaking waves on the trip over). 

Ride a Wicker Basket.  Looks sedate enough....

Tell me there really are brakes on these things...  Oh dear, nooooo!!

#4. Build a Sand Castle

I’ve mentioned deep water.  We can’t seem to see any life in the clearly visible depths below, other than a few scrawny crabs.  The shores are black (volcanic) and the grains are hefty, water washed stones.  The Cap’n didn’t quite see eye-to-eye with the GS’s vision of an ocean-front, 3 bed, 2 bath castle with a moat.  Even if Churchill was rather fond of the place.

Pretty seaside village, Camara de Lobos, named after the rare Monk Seals
 (called sea wolves) found on nearby Desertas Islands

#5. Natural Defences

In Albania we discovered cactus had once been used as natural barbed wire.  Aside from everything else, anything prickly seems to grow with much enthusiasm here in Madeira too.  From Monte, we took a Cable Car to the Botanical Gardens.  It’s a great trip high over forest burned out by bushfires (2012) and we debated whether it was eucalypt, an oily, ticking bomb.  The Gardens were extremely lucky to have not been engulfed by the fires too.  The Cactus Garden especially, is a visual, prickly feast and the Galley Slave, along with many other photographers, snapped like crazy.  The orchid gardens are also inspiring and the Cap’n quickly moved her along, promising a stop in the Lovers Cave (oh, sure!), before she had too many gardening ideas for Dangar.

A prickly customer indeed..

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.