Morocco to Lanzarote

Sunday 18th November

Well, we left Morocco. A fair bit of fun first, waiting for passports and ships papers and then a comedy of errors trying to buy exactly 2800 dirhams worth of fuel from 2 local lads who had no English. Shouts of 'stop' and '3 more litres' and so on rang around the pontoons. Then we ended up a few dirhams short. Louise went off to change some Euros, but only had coins and nowhere would take them.

We eventually got away around midday. I nervously helmed Chelone out of the marins over a bar showing just 8 feet. Chelone draws 6. It was lively outside so we reefed the main and set off into the swells and Westerly F5. Ross and John, the professionals on our crew ducked below, grinning, as Louise, Susie and myself took a few soakings from waves over the top, and over the gunwhales into the cockpit.

The routine then settled in once more. The wind eased, and veered into the NE, the sea calmed and took on the more oceanic blue hue as we clawed off the North African coast. Night watches came and went, and reefs were shaken out.

Louise had a bout of seasickness. It seems to affect her for the first day or so of the more lively passages, but she stands her watches as anyone who knows her knows she would. A strong lady in so many ways.

The wind died and died. 2 knots by afternon. Engine on and we motored in towards Pta Calero, Lanzarote at 04:00.

Agadir, and Wales lose again

(Louise) Martin and Ross were desperate to watch the Wales game, so armed with a laptop and a Nexus tablet, just in case there were no bars showing the game, off we went. 

We found a bar with a TV but despite having umpteen Sky sports channels none of them had rugby on.  We agreed with the owner that if we had food there we could plug in the laptop and use their Wifi to try to watch the  game.  We ordered the cheapest food and beers and then after 15 frantic minutes of connecting, streaming, searching, the boys in red appeared on the computer screen. 

90 minutes later Ross and Martin were crying into their beer and I was tucking into a Moroccan version of Arctic Roll for dessert (chocolate sponge with strawberry, chocolate, vanilla and mint icecream, all soaked in cherry liqueur).  Our food was lovely fresh 12" pizza for £3, the bottles of local beer about £1.30.

(Martin) Friday afternoon was boat maintenence. John checked the steaming light. Louise sewed a patch over a tear in the mainsail mainsailand sorted through the first aid kit. Ross checked the engine fluid levels, I fixed a galley light and greased the propshaft. John then set about the lovely job of cleaning out the fuel tanks. I helped with the aid of a scuba cylinder, blowing compressed air to try and clear any blockages. Not pleasant work, but important stuff.

Ross and I were delighted to finally find a pirate video stream showing the Wales v Samoa game, and equally disappointed at the performance and result. 

John and Susie had gone out for a romantic dinner for two. On the way back to the boat, Ross saw them and joined them. Louise and I had an early night. The others, it seems, didn't. Details are sketchy, but taxi rides to fishing ports, atm machines devouring credit cards, clubbing Morrocco style and 05:00 bed time form one part of the tale. Certainly, it was 'subdued' aboard Chelone on Saturday morning......

(Louise) Early hours of Saturday morning we had thunderstorms and at 10 it was still raining. Undeterred, Martin, myself and Ross got a taxi to Souk Al Ahed, a Moroccan bizarre. The taxi journey cost us less than £2 and it was at least 12 miles away. The market was a huge sprawling mass of stalls, without the charisma of Marrakech but the reviews online reported that it was where the locals bought their fruit and veg. 

We wandered around glorying in the sights and smells of spices, herbs, perfumes, cakes etc. We were charmed by a trader with a small chameleon called "Lady Gaga", well actually I was charmed while it was on Martins arm, it was a different story when it was on my shoulder....

The reviews were right about the fruit and veg, stall after stall, piled high with mountains of fantastic looking produce. Obviously being veggies, we were keen to restock Chelone, so I filled bags with aubergines, courgettes, peppers, cauliflower, onions and chillies. I had a price in mind of about 75dh but was astonished when the trader said 25 !!  How we are ripped off at home.

The only other event worth mentioning is getting 'touched up' and followed by a young man. Ross also had his bum tickled so I guess the guy was either not fussy or was checking out back pockets!!

There was a huge vegetable and fruit market, and we filled a rucksack for less than £1.50

Spices, sweets and cakes, chickens, fish, another vibrant Moroccan market experience.

 Louise had wanted to touch a snake in Marrakech, but, in the end, had to settle for this crocodile sized chameleon in Agadir. Many might interpret the look on her face as abject terror, but she assures me the screams were actually shrieks of delight.

Sunday

We leave today for The Canaries this morning. It was going to have been at 07:00, but, evidently, the lady who checks boats out doesn't work weekends. A bit of hand wringing on John's part resulted in a compromise, and she agreed to come in at 10:00. Hopefully, we'll be off then.

Mohammedia to Agadir, Morocco

Tuesday 13th to Thursday 15th November

Mohammedia to Agadir
Tuesday 13th November
John finished up the paperwork and did some shopping for bread and fresh veg with Ross. We got underway at lunchtime and motored away from Mohammedia into a light SouthWesterly wind. 20 or so miles down the coast was the stunningly beautiful and imposing mosque at Casablanca, a splendid white marble shining on the coast in the late afternoon sun.

The watches passed peacefully that night, I was 20:00 to 22:00. Wednesday also passed quietly, apart from the engine cutting out around lunchtime. John had suspected dirt in one of the fuel tanks and indeed the filters were blocked. I relished the chance to have a go at sailing Chelone myself, and pulled out Genoa and raised the staysail. It took a long time to get steerage, but eventually Louise helped me tack and we managed 3.5 knots upwind. Very impressive for a 16 tonner in a force 2.

Louise cooked a Spanish omelette for supper - it looked suspiciously small in the pan, but fed 5 with ease, leaving Ross struggling. Our captain duly helped him out, finishing off the last few mouthfulls with relish. Ross is one of the best guys around a boat I've seen, but he still has a bit to learn from John on the eating front.....

The next 12 hours was a bit of a nightmare. Several times during the night the engine cut out with fuel problems. Familiar territory indeed for the crew of Ishtar!  By my watch, 02:00-04:00, We were running from a can, perched in the engine bay. John had been up most of the night but remained his usual laid back cheerful self, as always.

I was feeling ill, and was sick a couple of times on the way into Agadir. It lasted until the evening, probably a 24 hour bug picked up at Marrakech.

Thursday 14th November - Agadir

We're back in Europe! The marina and seafront at Agadir could be anywhere, complete with designer outlets. I find it so annoying and frustrating. Travel broadens the mind, sure, but only if the places one travels to are different. I'd far rather the lack of facilities, and pavement chicken deaths of Mohammedia, than the mock Europena plastic fabricated nonsense here. I want authentic, warts and all, Africa.

Anyway, the marina (port de plaisance - there is another at port de peche). 2m draught no problem. Pontoons, good, with water and electricity. Wi fi adequate. Showers and toilets poor and, mixed. Swimming pool at 50 dirhams (£4) a dip. Plenty of eateries nearby. Louise and I had 2 large vegetarian pizzas and 2 soft drinks for about £8.

Louise and I had hoped to go to a medina on Friday, a local market, but it was closed, with many other shops, for the holy day.

Monday 12th November

Louise rose at 07:00 and did our washing. There then followed a couple of frustrating hours culminating in us missing the 10:50 train. As we wandered through Mohammedia before catching the train, we stumbled upon an open air market with stalls selling all sorts of fruit, vegetables, fish and livestock. One customers ordered a chicken, which was then pulled from its cage, despatched with a quick twist of its neck, and cleaned in  the street. Seemed quite normal to me, and a far cry from the hidden, sanitised way we do things in the UK.

When we finally got going it was 12:22. John found us a seat in a first class compartment, even though we only had second class tickets. Nobody bothered us. Our patience was tried still further when the train stopped repeatedly, apparently because the king of Morocco was travelling. A Moroccan citizen travelling with us, a lovely old gent who spoke excellent English as well as Arabic and French, told us we could be held up for hours. In the end we were only delayed by an hour and reached Marrakech around 17:00. We faced a similar trip back in just 4 hours time.

A short taxi ride, costing 80 Dirhams (about £5.60) for 5 of us, saw us to the medina. The snake charmers greeted us first. John took some photos and Susie made Ross jump - snakes are not his favourite creatures, evidently.

Then the fun really started. We allowed ourselves to get lost in the alleyways and souks. The merchants shouted and laughed with us and I had great fun talking rubbish back at them. I tried to explain to one lady hawking a carved wooden elephant that our cabin was too small for it, and that its trunk would stick in my back. She carried on regardless.
Kids sent sparkling lights into the night sky, horses and carriages trotted past and mad scooter riders weaved their way through the throng at surprising speed.

There were so many beautiful things We could have bought, but we had no room in our luggage for the flights home.

The whole affair was intoxicating, dreamlike. It felt happy and safe with one small exception. On asking for directions bck to the main square, Ross spotted that one chap had given us wrong directions. As Louise bartered hard for a scarf, another chap came out of the side street we'd been told to go down, pointed at Louise and I, now temporarily alone and shouted 'You die, you die, scum'.

We quickly caught up with the others and made our way back to the square. We ate together. Calamare, fries, kebabs, olives, breads with a variety of dips, all for less than a fiver each.

I wished we could have stayed longer. It was everything I'd hoped for and I loved the place. The taxi back to the station was 50 Dirhams, when we found out that the £7 we'd paid to get to Marrakech was a single fair, not a return. We paid about £9 for a first class ticket back and then another short taxi ride saw us back on Chelone just before 02:00.

I hope I get a chance to go back soon.

The marina at Mohammedia was small but functional. Based in a fishing port, there were limited showers, excellent wifi, and it was around 20 minutes to walk to the town, with bakers, supermarkets, an outdoor market and station. Formalities were quick and easy, passports were stamped and returned quickly and security was fine. The pontoons were small for a 38ft vessel, but shelter was good and there was over 2m depth at low water. There was a vhf radio in the complex, set to listen on channel 11, but I never saw anyone use it, and we tried calling on the way in, to no avail. The seawater quality in the marina was very poor, and we washed our hands after handling our lines.

(Louise) Entering the medina at Marakech was an overwhelming bombardment of your senses. Bright, vibrant colours, music, smells, all as Martin has said above. The stalls were like treasure chests bursting full of clothing, sandals, leather goods, jewelery, metalware, I could go on and on. The bartering is good fun and completely expected from the traders, I found a beautiful cashmere scarf that the seller wanted 250 dirhams for (£17.50), being ruthless I got it for 50 (£3.50). I wish that worked back in the UK!

We had all decided beforehand to stick together as a group. It was so easy to lose sight of each other though as the crowds, bicycles, motorbikes and barrows rushed by. I felt safe and my apprehension is probably based on fear of the unknown.

We didn't want food in Mohammedia before we left, we both wanted to experience as much of Marrakech as we could, including the food. The first thing was delicious fresh doughnuts smothered in sugar about 3 times the size of the ones back home but only 14p. Next we saw a type of fried flatbread being cooked. About 8" square you could have it filled with cheese or honey, then it gets rolled up. It was quite tasty and again very cheap. The taxi ride from the station to the medina had taken about 20 minutes and the last train left at 21:00, so we agreed to get the return taxi by about 8:15pm.
We wandered around the main square for a little longer until we were tempted into a kebab-style place where we had calamari, fries, bread andolives with dips. It was a lovely meal to have together and again very cheap.
If you ever get a chance to visit it is an experience not to be missed

Marrakech

Monday 12th November

Yesterday was a longstanding wish fulfilled. Finally made it to Marrakech after over 20 years of waiting. It was wild. Every colour, every scent, odour and smell, every possible sound imaginable, people dancing, singing, begging, drums, snake charmers, vendors off all sorts shouting out welcomes in every language, desperate to atract potential customers to buy their wares. Pics and a full description soon. Off down the coast now with fair but light winds for a few days.

Morocco

Saturday 10th November

Yesterday we crossed a direct line which ships use to enter and leave the Med. Once again, the AIS was a must.

Today was a quiet day, The night watches followed by some motoring. By late afternoon we were sailing again. A beam reach and 6 knots speed over ground. As the evening drew in, the wind increased further and we started reefing the genoa. By my first watch at midnight we had a steady 25 knots which increased well beyond 30 knots by the time John and then Louise came on later.

By my second watch at 08:00, the seas was well up. Nobody had slept much and, as easily as Chelone cut through the big seas, there was lots of creaking, bottles clanking and so on.

John made a cup of hot, sweet tea and poured it over the side. This was Remberence Sunday, and it was suggested that this was a fitting gift in memory of past sailors lost.

By the end of the day we were all very pleased to tie up in the marina at Mohammedia. It was surprisingly cold for Morocco, fleece weather. The standard of the marina was, er, ......Moroccan. Small pontoons, poor water quality, fishing boats all round. The shower was warmish, with a pungent odour.

The customs guys boarded us immediately, and went through the ship's papers and those of her 5 crew. They were amiable enough.

I loved it. It is different and exotic, and quite adequate. Susie cooked a delicious tuna savoury and Louise a surprisingly good jam sponge with custard.

Leaving Cascais

Cascais - Mohammedia, 319 miles


Friday 9th November

I didn't get a chance to make a proper post to go with the photos of Lisbon. We loved it. A fabulous city, beautiful architecture, cobbled streets, great open squares, museums, eateries, shops and a very friendly atmosphere. If you have a day to spare when moored at Cascais, go. It's 20 minutes by train, and they run every 30 minutes.

A note about motoring. On the trip so far, we've motored a lot. It's clearly possible to sail against the wind, but beating into the 25 knots or so we have encountered, added to the 3-4m swells, would have tired the crew. On other days, with 5 knots of wind, we could have sailed at 2 knots, but often switched on the iron sail and racked up the miles.

The ultimate question is time. With hopefully consistent winds crossing the Atlantic, it should be more predictable. Between the UK and the Canaries, though, how much time can you afford to lose with headwinds and no wind before switching on the power?

We left Cascais Marina at 09:30. John and Ross had tried to 'skype' the marina in Las Palmas to book a berth. With over 250 yachts expected to be there, ready for the ARC (Atlantic Rally for Cruisers) which leaves in two weeks, our chances looked slim. We may need a fallback plan.

Morrocco in the meantime. Mohamedia marina, and the promise of a train trip to Marrakesh. I'd nearly been there in the mid 1980's, with a very good mate, Pete Jones, but the Uk and US bombed Libya, so we thought better of it. Fingers crossed this time.

A lovely beam reach to start the day. A securite message on the vhf alerted us to some live firing by the Portuguese Navy directly ahead. I suggested to John that we engage them. I reckon we could have taken them with a couple of volleys of rotten vegetables (there is a VERY dodgy tomato in the veg netting), or maybe lay them low by stealth - send them over some of Louise's cooking).

John was right though. What would we do with a Portuguese warship and 200 prisoners?

Ross has been in the galley for two hours now. I'm expecting a masterpiece. He likes garlic. He's gone easy this time though, just 6 cloves. Just passed a 'J' class yacht. Probably Antigua bound. Took some photos.

(Louise) I was on watch this morning from 2-4am. The sky was stunning an absolute mass of stars. We were motoring along with next to no wind, the sea inky blue with barely a ripple. I had to alter course to avoid a fishing boat so I sat in the cockpit making sure we were clear of him. Suddenly there was the familiar sleak grey body and dark fin of a dolphin diving alongside me. I stood up for a better look (obviously with my life jacket and safety harness clipped on).

I began to see the splashes of other dolphins as  they joined in the fun. At night you get whats called phosphorescence, its an algae that becomes luminous so as a wave breaks it looks like flashes of light. As the dolphins jumped their bodies caused this effect and it was amazing. As I looked out from the cockpit I could see silver streaks coming towards the boat from all directions, the ghostly trails of a pod of dolphins coming over to play. By this time I had to cover my mouth to stop myself squeeling, I was like a child at Christmas. The sea was alight with silver streaks, splashes, fins and I could even make out some of their high pitched calling. At one point three dolphins weaved along in a flashing slver trail right next to me, when they jumped I could have touched them.

Should I wake the others? Would I get a grumpy response of "i've seen dolphins before!" I stayed quiet, thinking they'd probably disappear soon anyway. 45 minutes later I was still enjoying the best light show of my life. A truly unforgetable, magical experience.

Lisbon Pictures

Our friend Sheila at Cardiff yacht club had recommended a train trip along the coast from Cascais to Lisbon. Ross, John and Susie were already going, so we joined them, walking along the now sunny harbour at Cascais, to the train station.

The 20 minute train ride cost just over 9 Euros, return, and that was for both of us. A lovely ride along the waterfront. We arrived at Lisbon and John spotted a chandlers. He was keen on buying a block of cork, to hold the hooks of the fishing lures aboard Chelone. Strangely enough, the Portuguese word for cork appears to omit the 'r', which led to some hilarity.

Lisbon was beautiful. Steeply inclined narrow streets, all with cobbles. Beautiful churches, squares, trees and shops, and a very friendly, cosmopolitan atmosphere.

Louise and found Carmo monastery, with museum. A beautiful place on a stunning day, containing all sorts of artifacts stretching back through the centuries, includind some Peruvian mummies.

Just outside the cathedral was an 'elevator', actually a wrought iron tower with stairs leading up affording a beautiful view of this most picturesque of cities:

Lunch, of pastries, salads and fruit juices, was taken in a square, complete with statues and fountains beneath the bluest of blue skies:

La Coruna to Cascais

Sunday 4th November
The forecast for Saturday was still for strong Westerlies. One of the problems, I now realise, in not rounding the corner at the Northwest point of Spain, was that it then becomes difficult with any wind with much West in it. We finally got away around 07:30 on Sunday.

John settled the bill at the marina office, but there seemed to be a query over a bill for laundry use. We wheeled out our big guns and sent Louise and Susie up to talk to the young lad in the office. I feared for him, but saw him later, so he was still alive.

We motored into big swells, Chelone slamming into the waves. As we turned the corner by degree, the wind backed and stayed on the nose, so we kept on motoring.

Louise said cheerio to her breakfast, ironically a bowl of Cheerios. A sacrifice to Neptune. Ross and I stayed on watch as the others slept and we approached Cape Finisterre. Within 5 minutes, the wind increased from 17 knots to 29 knots, gusting over 30 as a rain squall hit.

John cooked pasta and Susie served it with pesto and cheese. John then decided that we'd pull into a marina at Muras(Muxia) around 13 miles SE Cape Finisterre. I'd rather have kept going, but by 23:30, We were tied up and had a good night's sleep. I can't comment on the facilities, but there was plenty of depth, shelter and room.

83 miles

We left the marina at 10:45 and resumed our journey. Louise spotted her second sunfish, Susie made lunch and I cooked a vegetable curry and left it to marinade until evening. The sea was now slight, the winds light, and veering around to the North. Bright sunshine filled Chelone as we eased Southwards, the sounds of Fleetwood Mac's Rumours playing, as I enjoyed Thor Heyerdahl's Kon Tiki expedition, imagining myself one of Kon Tiki's crew as they crossed their own ocean 70 odd years ago. I'd probably struggle with the sun bleached hair, bronzed skin and athletic physique of the Norwegians, but I might yet manage the beard.....

Tuesday 6th November
The curry went down well. Mild for myself, John and Susie, hot for Louise and Ross. Not enough salt for Susie and John, plenty for the other three. It averaged out well.

Watches at night start around 20:00 hrs and run until 10:00 the next morning. John, Louise, Ross and myself take 2 hours on, 6 hours off. 2 watches a night, one watch a night every forth night. In terms of shipping, there's far less off Portugal than Biscay, though perhaps more fishing boats. They appear and dissapear on the AIS screen, usually trawling at 3.5 knots. John says they sometimes switch off their AIS to hide the best spots from competitors.

The cargo ships usually steam at around 10-12 knots to Chelone's 5-7 knots. By comparison, Oceana was travelling at 20. A closing speed of around 27 knots would see a 5 mile gap covered in around 11 minutes, so good watchkeeping is essential.

As we sail Southwards down the Portuguese coast, the water gets ever bluer. The thermal clothes have gone - it's t-shirts during the day and fleeces at night. John has a fishing line out, and the three crew on deck eye each other nervously at each brief clicking of the reel. Shaw, Dreyfuss and Schneider-like, Ross and I hear comments such as 'we're gonna need a bigger boat'.

My money is on cup a soup for lunch, rather than seared tuna steaks.......


Wednesday 7th November

We didn't have cup a soup, but we didn't have tuna either. The fishing reel remained eerily silent as John set up the monitor wind vane. He fiddled with it for an hour or so and then, when satisfied, explained its use to Louise, Ross and Myself. It guided us dutifully down the Portuguese coast until after sunset. Susie cooked steaks for the meat eaters and Louise did some lovely fajitas for the two of us.

The watches past without drama until some strong winds, up to 38 knots, caught John around 4am. Louise and I got up and between the three of us we dropped the main and moored Chelone alongside the marina office around 05:00.

After a couple of hours sleep, we split into groups and wandered off. A miserable grey drizzle came and went. Louise and I had some fresh bread, local olives, goat's and sheep's cheese, plum tomatoes, onions and olive oil. Simple Mediterranean fayre that I never tire of.

Marina Cascais was E21 per night for Chelone. Good showers, a mini market open until 18:00, and numerous shops and bars within 2-3 minutes of the pontoons. Wifi was, and there is a pattern emerging here, patchy.

The town is delightful. Cobblestoned streets, fortifications, palm trees, many small shops selling all sorts of things, including cork based goods. It fronts onto a small sandy beach with dozens of moorings, each holding a tiny lobster fishing boat. A beautiful place..

249 miles

A few days in Spain

Thursday 1st November

Peaceful, easy day. A relaxed morning. Coffee and porridge after rising at a very civilised 08:30. Louise and Susie took some clothes to the launderette. I quickly checked Wiki for things to do and see in La Coruna. The Torres de Hercules, a Roman lighthouse caught my eye.

I went up to see the marina manager, an amiable chap I have dubbed Manuel. I wanted to learn a bit of Spanish. I asked him for a map, which he supplied. There then followed 10 minutes of me trying to ask him what the Spanish word for map was. Eventually he got it and replied 'mapa' in a monotone voice. Deflated at such a meagre return for so much effort, I left.

Around 14:00, John, Susie, Ross, Louise and myself jumped into a taxi, paid 5 euros and took a trip to the lighthouse.

I loved it. Julius Caeser visited the area in AD 31 and it was amazing to think that Roman galleys may have sailed the same waters we sailed over yesterday. Just inside, you could see the ancient footings, including 2000 year old concrete.

The tower itself was refaced with granite in 1788, but inside, all the stonework was Roman. Ross, Louise and I climbed to the top and stared out over the now raging sea. A thoroughly enjoyable visit. The five of us then walked back to the boat via a supermarket. Louise and I had fresh crusty bread, allioli (Spanish garlic mayonnaise), roasted peppers in olive oil and fresh tomatoes. A lovely afternoon.

Darsena de la marina is fine. 32 euros a night for a 12m boat. Clean toilets and nice showers, friendly staff, a bar with reasonable prices and less than 5 minutes to walk to the centre of town.

Friday 2nd November.
Oceana arrived during the night; our second meeting. She towered above us. Her hordes filed off, wandered around for a bit and then filed back on again. Not my idea of travel at all. The folk aboard had just 6 hours ashore in total, hardly enough to get more than a tiny taste of the place.

Louise, Ross and myself took a walk around town later, and had fresh bread, olives etc. for lunch.

Then we readied the boat for a possible early departure tomorrow, checking the engine, filling water and so on. Cascais is a possible next stop, approximately 320 nm, just over 2 days away.

One thing that struck me more than anything about La Corunna was the feel of the place. Even at 10pm on a Friday night, whole families filled the squares, eating, drinking, the kids playing in the streets. No gangs of drunken youths and no threatening feeling that one might encounter in any British town on a Friday night. It was really happy, laid back, just nice.