Monday 26 November 2012

Body slammer

It's been a long time since we have had to set an alarm clock. We cast off and immediately the Police were blowing whistles at us from the marina quay. We thought it was because we had reversed too close to the King of Morocco's  pontoon berths, but no, they were warning us of a strong current in the river!  Meriva is very responsive in strong currents and winds but has a will of her own in light winds and still waters, so it was easier to just go and tie up in the river than to try and get back into a  pontoon berth.

We were boarded by sniffer dogs, customs and the Police, all very stress free, but the Police officer was concerned about my swollen eye from a 'mossie' attack during the night. 'Did he do that?', he asked, indicating my handsome Captain. 'No he's a pacifist.' was my reply, the words just slipped out!


The  pilot led us out of the Wadi Bou Regreg  in convoy, following closely, but 'not too closely', through the swell and surrounding surf. That was at high tide!









There is a shrine to Sidi Ben Achir in the seamen's cemetery. He was credited in the 16th Century with the power to calm the waves so as to allow vessels to enter the harbour safely.  Nowadays they use pilots, who are brilliant and weather forecasting......not quite so romantic but perhaps more efficacious.






In order to leave Sale you need calm conditions, no swell which usually means no wind. The options were to bob and slop around or motor or go to Maderia if the winds are building from the right direction, I was keen to get to the Canaries  mainly because the islands have played a major part in my life,  but also because its easy to get a flight home for the imminent arrival of another granddaughter.

We motored for 24 hours, the most on this trip so far before the wind started to build a little. I was pulling in the fishing line, as Tristan deployed the towing generator when the boom preventer broke. The mainsheet slammed  me over to the side of the cockpit and trapped me. Took the wind out of my sails and I whimpered in the cockpit struggling to breathe. I cut my head and had a duck egg but mainly bruised my ribs, Having broken ribs before, I am pretty sure I have two cracked ribs from the points of impact but there is nothing to be done and they will heal.  The skipper switched onto skipper mode and after I had recovered enough, got me inside, checked me out, gave me a cup of sweet tea and got us sailing again. We were both shocked and the options were to pull into Safi (reputation for baksheesh), sail to Agadir or carry onto Lanzarote. I didn't want to pull in to a Moroccan hospital to pay out lots of money to be told I had cracked ribs and needed to rest, especially to stay in a harbour where we may have to keep doling out banknotes to a dodgy harbour master (according to one of the sailing blogs).

Skipper looking 'skipperish'
 I didn't really consider the  impact of this decision on Tristan, he was worried for me and had to sail single-handed, with someone else's safety to consider too. I was wedged between bolsters and pillows, off watch for 24 hours which was hard for Tristan. Doped up with anti-inflammatories and painkillers I was able to stand  watches  on the Friday so  Tristan could sleep, but we were bobbing again and very little boat movement.

Sunrise over Africa



This trip I had my sea legs and was feeling fine. I actually enjoyed the night watch, and had to wake Tristan up to feel the warm breeze from the Sahara and so that he could get the sail up.

As soon as the wind got up Saturday night/Sunday morning to a Force 6 gusting 7.....I was horizontal in the bunk jammed between pillows again.




 The strong southern winds off Lanzarote are known as the 'Majoreros' and bring wind and harried seas according to the marina guide! We used our Atlantic Islands Pilot for the first time....thank you Julia and Paul, and Euan and Nona for the charts!

Landfall.......Lanzarote at last!

We arrived at Peurto Calero on Sunday morning after a blast of a sail, strong winds but flat seas.
Harbour staff helped Tristan with the lines as throwing a rope was not an option for me.  The marina is very smart, excellent showers, expensive clothes shops and a wealth of restaurants.






We will be here for a while so we can both rest. From my point of view its a perfect location, very close and lots of accessible hikes to volcanic craters.
                                       
 I can't wait but I will need the persuasive   power of a siren to get Tristan trampling over volcanic lava again !
                                                                 










 
                                                               
I am really looking forward to sailing around the Canaries. It was 1997 when I first came on my own to discover the natural history. I have many happy memories  of the Atlantic Whale Foundation on Tenerife,  with my daughters Lucy, Julia and Amy accompanying me for many summers of  whale watching.

Tuesday 20 November 2012

The night before the morning after.

Today has been the day for getting the boat ready. Fuelled up, watered up and two beef Ras-al-halout's prepared for en route. Its great to buy really good spices but I 'chickened out' and  bought sealed ones, didn't fancy the open ones after seeing a hedgehog pelt covering one tub.

We found a large supermarket yesterday on the outskirts of Sale.

Sugar loaf


 We passed huge shanty towns, of immigrants from the countryside. The shacks were built of wattle and daub with reed roofs, desperately poor areas but they all had satellite dishes.

I am surprised how finding a supermarket for provisioning becomes so important and I never thought I would become an expert on plastic boxes!  I could never manage without 'lock lock'!



Tristan has been mending the main sail. I've been cleaning. We treated ourselves to wonderful almond paste  petite-fours for en route. Its back on the wobble board tomorrow!

I'd recommend this marina to anyone...the pilots have been excellent, marina staff friendly, clearing procedure by the police and customs was stress free and the marina very secure.  Tristan  gave feedback to the marina today and when pressed to recommend any possible improvements, commented on the showers.....turns out he'd been using the public ones! To think I've spent a week showering on the boat!

We leave early tomorrow and after clearance by the police and customs we are off to Lanzarote. I'm looking forward to the Canaries...... I've spent so much time whale watching on other peoples boats it will be great to be on our own.

Wednesday 14 November 2012

Sale Rovers

Its always difficult to leave a place .....no matter how much planning is involved, something will always change. We went for it, knowing that the wind was set to go light, but eternally optimistic that there would be more wind at sea and stronger than WindGuru predicted! Sale and Morocco were calling. Tristan treated me to an audio book of the Sale pirates which we played at full blast through our new cockpit speakers! It was a wonderful sail....moderate wind and flat seas with nature's own fireworks, both shooting stars and bioluminescence from Noctiluca lucens. We saw the sun go down and come up again.....so peaceful.
We made good time but not good enough and had to sit off 12 miles off the coast of Morocco waiting to enter Sale, 22 hours later.
We could smell the city ....a combination of spices and rubbish. We were not brave enough to enter Sale at night and boy was that the right decision. Come morning we positioned ourselves two miles out and waited until near high water.
The sewage surrounded the boat from the river ...we were literally 'in the shit' off Morocco. Even I was shocked and I've spent my life looking at sewage outfalls. Bouregreg marina staff were brilliant and a pilot boat came out to take us and three other yachts into the marina. What an experience.
We followed in convoy to avoid the sand bar at the entrance and swell. We touched at one point but not enough to stop us. Tristan had a look of pure horror....and to add a little excitement locals in rowing boats went in front of us as we meandered up river to the marina. Meriva ploughed on like a juggernaut and I politely yelled off the bow, Tristan tipping his hat as we went by "Merci, Monsieur."
We all had to raft up for clearance by Police and Custom Officials. It was all friendly and polite......first time we had a sniffer dog on board and he kept slipping on the varnish. He also had to be dragged out of the sea berth..as that's where Tristan keeps his stash of dried sausages! We were guided to a pontoon and staff helped with the lines which was a real treat after Cadiz. We are really looking forward to the old town of Sale and souks and search for Tristan's spiritual roots.
Had a very humbling experience in Sale....was shocked by the poverty but also heartened by the care and charity shown to the poor by people who also had very little. There was a real sense of community amongst the people.
The medina was like a time warp. The stalls were selling everything including spices, plastic boxes, olives, pomegranates, small almond cakes, mandarins, and olives! The hedgehog skin in the pot pourri was 'interesting'. Didn't ask and didn't buy. The chicken butcher put us off eating meat...as the birds flapped around their cages whilst guts and feathers covered the floor. Looked like a torturous scene ......stressed meat. I did buy some henna powder, well that's what they told me it was. Just hope it is red. Last time I bought some in Egypt it was black henna and gave me a blue rinse. We didn't see another European in the Sale medina, and so stood out like a sore thumb. No matter how much you cover up and dress down short of buying a hajab being red heads you are always going to stand out. Being suckers for punishment we thought the late evening should be spent in the medina in Rabat. This felt a completely different place....the streets were cleaner and there was less blood, guts, mud and shit (though there was still quite a lot). We managed to get lost, several times, both being too proud to accept that we didn't know where we were going! The souks were very colourful with spices, carpets and shoes.


 We ended up in the residential quarter...fire crackers were being flung around by young boys, which had the desired effect of me walking at an Olympic training pace. Tristan managed a slow stroll on par with the locals which was unusual as he normally strides along with me running behind at home! We refrained from buying a 'boat tortoise'.....I haven't seen so many for years. Always reminds me of Blue Peter.



 I didn't take photographs in the souks -it wasn't a touristy place and it seemed inappropriate and intrusive. It has left an unforgettable experience - emotional, visual and olfactory.

Sunday 11 November 2012

Crank

Crank.....a nautical term. Felt quite sad when we left our friends in Lagos......parting of the ways, but knowing at some point we may bump into each other again. We arrived in Cadiz after one of our best sails yet. Flat seas, strong winds and heeling past 20 degrees at times. The waiting pontoon was surrounded on three sides and it was low water, so we chose an easy pontoon to tie up to. The marina was empty and no cruisers, no wonder! The marina staff were very unfriendly and unwelcoming. The marina is at the deserted end of the commercial docks surrounded by derelict buildings and cats. A promenade to no where has been started but they must have run out of European money! We were told there was no internet.....not allowed to be sold in Andalucia and they obviously weren't going to let us log in. Great!
We walked into Cadiz via containers, port bins and a derelict row of buildings. It turns out that on a Friday night, portaloos are put in place and these turn into night clubs, seedy,scruffy dumps of places. I never really felt threatened, but then I had Tristan with me! Cadiz sea front was stunning at night and there was a good atmosphere in the narrow city streets.
If you can get over the location of the marina, Cadiz is a beautiful city....narrow streets and lots of beautiful parks with specimen trees and fragrant Mediterranean flowers.
We walked miles.
We managed to buy a depth sounder....the one we were convinced to have serviced is intermittent and we are freaked out when we enter a new port, so we needed to sort the problem out. As soon as the wind blows from any direction but the south west we are off. Morocco is calling.

Friday 2 November 2012

Lumpen proletariat

'When are you leaving Cascais?' 'Tomorrow'.  We had several tomorrow's due to unreliable weather forcasting. Tomorrow finally came and with a little help from our friends, we were hauled off the pontoon and away, and then came back again, to return a pilot guide we had borrowed from Richard & Catherine on Vagabond.  We motored out  into a slop with huge waves pouring into the bay. Tristan was on deck and  finally knew what it was like to pull in the fenders under full throttle. 'Don't worry', he said, 'The worst will be all over in four hours, and will be easy sailing to Cadiz.'
I was surgically attached to the wheel ........my comfort zone. As it got dark I was ordered below but only made the cockpit floor and surgically attached myself to a bucket for several hours! 'Don't leave me' was the cry as the thunder rolled around us and streak lightening pointed to the ocean floor.
I wish we hadn't had discussions about lightening strikes and metal masts and how the worst that could happen was a two foot long keel bolt fall out! I have since learnt from our  Canadian friends on 'Salty Ginger', that you should always put a GPS and hand held radio in the oven, when there is lightening. 
The 'rough sea' did not improve after four hours.......it was lumpen all night and we were the oppressed proletariat. I said I want to go to Lagos, meaning Sines which was a lot closer at this point. I need  to hug a tree.  I knew how ill I was when Tristan yelled 'bottlenose dolphin',  as I clutched the bucket again and couldn't care less about dolphins.

As soon as we turned the corner, Cabo de San Vincente, life was different. The seas went flat, the wind blew, dolphins surrounded the bow and we had a brilliant sail. Life was good. We inched into Lagos marina at low water.....bit dodgy for a 2.3m draught but we didn't touch.  Tristan then told me the hatch over the bunk had leaked and my side of the bunk was wet and, 'I've bought two laundry tokens', expecting me to be pleased.

 I had  a drink, climbed into my Musac and slept for hours.....woke
 in the middle of the night to find Tristan asleep on the floor in   galley!


















We have been here a week......drying out, fixing hatches, rescrewing the deck and for the first time since Gijon, varnishing. 
Bumped into lots of friends and looking forward to seeing friends we last saw in  2004 in Falmouth.

Visted the Old Slave Market in Lagos, a reflective place.

In 1445  slaves from Africa were brought into Lagos and  auctioned, a trade established by Henry the Navigator. A place of misery.










                                                                              We don't eat out but I promised we would when we found goat. We found goat and Tristan ate goat and more goat and cakes, Dom Rodrigos  and Morgados, and more.......he's gone quiet now!

This plate on the wall of the restaurant was by Egon Schiele, 'The Artist's Wife' reminded me of Amy!


We feel we are definitely at the back of the pack.  We were told today that rain hadn't fallen for 18 months and reservoir levels were at 40%. They will have been topped up today and more is forcast for the next few days.


Looking forward to heading south!