Atlantic crossing 3

Sunday 2nd December

An uneventful couple of days. Boredom and tiredness have definitely set in. I think all of us are a litle sleep deprived by now, and the night watches, especially after midnight, drag a little more each night. Spirits, though, remain good.



Each day, the sun rises a little later (after 08:00 now), and sets a little latet too. We're still on GMT(zulu) for the weather faxes and Herb Hilgenberg sessions. Sometime this afternoon we will pass the halfway point of the ocean crossing, with around 1400 miles, or 10 days to go. Still sailing well on a nice broad reach, winds Easterly F5-6 and seas slight or slight to moderate.

Chelone purrs along sleepily. This is barely any weather at all for a boat of her capabilities, and she devours the miles at 6-7 knots with ease. Hoping for a bit of a blow so she can show off. Her crew, though, seem content to count down the miles to Barbados, showers, fresh food and cold beer at this more leisurely pace.

I came across this in a book of sailing quotations:

'Twenty years from now, you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.

-Mark Twain



Tuesday 4th December

A couple of days of heavy showers has been followed by a return to sun and lighter winds. The showers were awful. Downpour after downpour. Each time we locked down all the portholes, the main butterfly hatch and the companionway. Then the five of us would sit there for the next couple of hours, lightening flashing, Chelone heeling in the squalls, and the temperature and humidity rising, as we sit there, breathless and sweating, desperate to open the hatches, willing the drumming rain to end.

Then it would, we'd get our cool air and it would start over with another lockdown. During one such hot and sweaty session, I decided to make some bread. It came out ok, though the kneading, with all vents shut, was a challenge in the heat.

The autopilot broke. An autohelm st 7000. When John stripped it, about 5 tablespoons of ground up brass filings poured out. He had spare cogs, but it set me thinking about the sheer number of spares it is possible to carry to cover every eventuality.

The monitor windvane works well, but only downwind. John has built a gantry covering the cockpit on Chelone, and it holds solar panels, antennae and so on. Unfortunately, it seems to restrict airflow to the windvane. John intends to extend the vane upwards above the gantry when he gets a chance, which should help with this problem. Just less than 1200 miles to go this morning.

Had a little sleep in the saloon earlier. It was luxury. I've been struggling to sleep bouncing around in the forecabin. In the saloon, it is like being gently rocked to sleep in a cradle. In the forecabin it's more like being pushed headlong down a steep bumpy street in a stolen supermarket trolley. Getting some rest is, er, challenging.

Still crossing

Wednesday 28th November

We lost. Again. All Blacks.

We are now just over 800 nm SouthWest of Lanzarote, having sailed just over 6 full days, though not in a straight line. When we left Lanzarote we made contact with Herb Hilgenberg on HF radio ( 12.359 mhz).

Website

Each night at 20:30 gmt (zulu) sailors call Herb:

'Southbound two, Southbound two, this is Chelone, chelone, checking in'

This goes on for many minutes as perhaps a dozen or more vessels take part in the roll call. Herb writes down the name of each vessel. He asks that people register by email, giving vessel details and passage plans.

Herb will then contact each vessel in turn, ask for a position and local weather conditions. He will then discuss a strategy for the next 24 hours, taking into account strong winds, calms and other factors such as the gulf stream.

Our plan, for example, which could have seen us sail South until the butter melts and then head West saw Herb route us motorsailing South to quickly escape gales in the Canaries, then due West at 22 degrees North to avoid calms near the Cape Verdes before tracking SouthWest to the tradewinds.

Herb has his critics, and likes to do things his way, but to my mind, he does a lot of hard work, on an off the air for sailors, and in my opinion he is to be recommended.

A couple of days back we suffered what I initially thought was a minor disaster. A small tear near the UV strip on the genoa became, overnight, a 15 foot rip. With over 2300 miles to go, this was very concerning.

John, Ross and myself set about dropping the genoa. We then manhandled it down below where Louise and Susie then spent the best part of 2 days sewing up the tear.

Another hour or so for the three lads to rehoist the sail and we were back sailing. In the meantime, sailing with full main and staysail alone, Chelone managed over 5 knots, not bad for a 16 tonner without her headsail.

Went swimming today,

Bright blue water, clean, crisp and warm. I swam around the boat twice before tiring. Even with bare poles and less than 10 knots of wind, Chelone moved relatively quickly. I estimated that, in those benign conditions, if I fell overboard and could not swim back to the boat within a few short minutes, that would be it. If she had sail up, I'd have no chance.

And then John caught a fish. Over 2000 miles and four weeks of trying.

Then Louise reeled one in. We ended up with five 'mahi mahi', or dolphin. 2-3lbs each, and all female. John expertly cleaned them

and then he and Ross prepared 3 different flavoured batters. Plain, Morrocan spicy and hot spicy. With chips. And mushy peas, salt, vinegar and allioli, a spanish garlic mayonnaise Louise and I brought aboard and which has become a favourite amongst the crew and, indeed, an obsession with our Tenby contingent.

We now have a settled routine. Formal watches from 18:00 until 10:00, 2 hours each for me, Louise, John and Ross, 2 watches each per night. It advances by 2 hours each night, so we all get our fair share of 'easy' watches.

John is concerned about fresh water. We wash up in salt water and flannel wash ourselves every few days. I drink 1 litre per day. I sweat a lot, especially when winching sails or carrying diesel cans on deck, so I hope John doesnt think that's excessive. I'm not sure what to do if he does.

Atlantic crossing

Thursday 22nd November

We spent the last couple of days in Puerto Calero, on the East coast of Lanzarote, 10km or so to the Southwest of Arecife.

The marina was of a high standard, and at 29 euros plus tax per night, it should have been. Good showers and toilets, restaurants and shops, and big enough for some 60 and 70 foot yachts.

We rented a car (Ford ka) for E30 for the day. Diesel was just over a euro a litre. Arecife was a maze of streets, many one way, and we got lost a few times.

Filled a 20 kilo gas bottle at the main Disa depot for just 8 Euros. The large HiperDino supermarket saw our victualling complete.

Louise and I spent a lovely hour aboard a Westerly Corsair 36 ketch, Galene. We talked to her owners, a British couple about all aspects of buying a cruising boat, and they were very frank and honest. The essential nature of AIS as a navigational aid, especially for the short handed, was stressed again.

We then had a curry in a dockside place. Garlic rice and fruit rice, King prawn jalferezi, sag paneer and baingan bhaji. The prawns were huge and the meal delicious, but not hot. I admit to being a bit of a chilli head and suffering early withdrawal symptoms.

We fuelled up this morning and John, Susie, Louise and Ross went aboard a 60 fter, Londene. John told the skipper that Ross would love to work aboard such a vessel and he took Ross's email. It would be a dream for Ross and I think all aboard Chelone would be delighted for him if such a dream came true.

Then we were off. 15 knots on the beam, Risso's dolphins off our stern. 2570 miles to Barbados. And counting.



Friday 23rd November
A heavy night. None of us slept much, as seems usual on the first night of a passage. After that, tiredness kicks in and we sleep through any noise and discomfort. Louise and I did ratatouille with cous cous last night, which went down well. Susie is making a salad now, out of the leftover cous cous. We're watching the fresh water and settling in.

Different dolphins today. A spotted species, though whether Atlantic or Pantropical, I cannot say. A mother taught her calf how to bowride, something I've seen before.

I'm going to do a bit of lecturing later. Ross and Susie fancy a spot of scuba in the Caribbean, so I'll give them some background theory.

Our two master fishermen from Tenby have still yet to break their duck, or their tuna for that matter. The reel screams several times a day, amidst shouts and whoops. Then the reel goes silent, the light goes out of their eyes and yet another shiny new paravane lure is broken out of it's packaging.

When I went on deck this morning, something sticky, slimy and suckered attatched itself to my hand. Ross and John proudly announced that they'd wrestled a squid leg aboard during the night's exertions. There was enough for a tasty morsel of calamare for a small child of around 5 years. It's a pity we don't have one. The next time you're in the Canaries, keep an eye out for a limping squid. It could just be the one that got away.

Meanwhile, a brooding menace occupies Ross and myself. The satellite phone allows around 100 characters per text. We wonder how many texts it will take to relay the Wales vs All Blacks score this weekend.....

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