In Africa

On arrival in Sal, we had not long dropped anchor before a small wooden fishing boat drew up alongside us. This was Dee Jay. He greets all the new arrivals, offering taxi rides ashore, laundry service, bottled gas service, water delivery and diesel delivery. He is great, very happy and chatty, though his timescales can be somewhat flexible.

Anyway, our first job after a glass of something to celebrate safe arrival, was to blow up the dinghy and go ashore to complete paperwork and be issued with visas. When Scruffbag was here 20 years ago, this was a convoluted process that involved a trip to the police station and then a truck ride to the airport. Now it is relatively straightforward and all carried out in the office of the maritime police. We did, however, realise how utterly exhausted we were as we stood in the police office with the floor swaying, sweating profusely and talking in a mixture of French, English and sign language. When we had completed the paperwork we headed straight back to the quay, gave some coins to the young boys who had taken our lines and headed back to the boat for lots of sleep.

The next morning we stopped for a chat with Sourian, the young Frenchman, who had left El Hierro, two weeks before us and then went by one of the numerous minibuses into the capital, Espargos, a very small town. Scruffbag noticed the changes and the way things have grown and developed. Now there are minimarkets selling a variety of goods and small Chinese hardware shops, where 20 years ago there were very few shops, mainly markets with fresh produce and street sellers.

From my point of view, I have to say that this is not one of my favourite places. It is dry and barren and makes even Fuertaventura look green and it lacks the surreal beauty of that island. It is also very poor with quite a lot of rubbish strewn around. That said, the people are fantastic, very friendly and helpful and even the street sellers don't press when you say no.

We have been to the saltpans, which closed many years ago and only opened again recently as a tourist attraction.

We floated in the salt lake, which is saltier than the Dead Sea and was an interesting experience.

We also went to Santa Maria. Twenty years ago this was a small village, where there were lots of dogs which needed to be chased off with stones but it is now a sprawling tourist resort, growing still. Scruffbag wanted to have a drink in the same bar (Atlantis) that he had had a drink on his 38th birthday but, after much searching, we found out it had burnt down 3 years ago so we had a dip in the warn sea to cool off (the beaches there being miles of white sand), and then we had an unknown fish for lunch in a local cafe away from the tourist drag

Sunday night was spent in the town here at a fiesta night, eating skewer kebabs and tasting the local grog (very nice with sugar, ice and lime). Today we went along the coast to visit a blowhole that shines blue in the sunlight, but, unfortunately there was no shining as it was cloudy. There were also natural pools but they were  quite crowded and not as inviting as those on El Hierro.

So tonight we are off to eat an octopus supper on an English boat anchored behind us and tomorrow we will leave for the island of Sao Nicolau, 100 miles away and reportedly much greener and prettier.

Kissed by a flying fish

Sailing from El Hierro to Sal, Cape Verde Islands

Distance 717 miles

Time taken 6 days and 8 hours until we were hove to outside the harbour

Weather sunny

Wind speed between 12 and 20 knots over the deck (once clear of El Hierro's acceleration zone)

Fish caught - none, though something took one of the lures

Wildlife seen - lots of flying fish (amazing how far they fly). Scruffbag thinks the ones that land on deck are depressed and suicidal. I think they are show offs who attempt more than they can achieve in jumping over the boat. - some storm petrels and a few shearwaters.


So we finally left Europe. Jaques, the Frenchman on the neighbouring boat, was sounding dire warnings about 45 knots of wind forecast in the acceleration zone that runs down the side of El Hierro but we had waited long enough and, besides, it is always windy in that zone and we knew we would be clear of it in an hour or so with a good forecast of around 15 knots from behind for the whole week ahead.

It was windy in the acceleration zone and it was heavy on the helm before the wind vane took over and it actually took around 3 hours to get clear. From then on the sailing was downwind and straightforward, though the windspeed did drop for a few hours on several occasions, which made sailing, slow and wallowing. We were goosewinged for most of the trip with 2 headsails poled out.

The worst thing about the trip was the tiredness. Neither of us got much sleep as it was very rolly and trying to sleep was like being rocked in a cradle by a sadist on speed so we were utterly exhausted when we arrived.

We tried a new watch system on this trip - 4 hours on and 4 hours off between 8pm and midday and time together in the afternoon and chance  to eat lunch and dinner together. It seemed to work well, giving the opportunity for longer sleeps when the sadist loosened his grip. One night I was on watch 12-4, just meditating on the stars above when suddenly I felt a flash of wetness pass over my lips. I jumped, startled, and then realised that a flying fish had just flown across my face. It landed on the coach roof. After that kiss what could I do but pick it up and return it to the Atlantic?

Scruffbag and I had agreed that if we arrived after dark we would not enter the harbour till the next day and although we put the mainsail up to try for more speed, it became apparent that we were not going to make it (by only a few hours, which is very frustrating and leads to lots of what ifs).

By eight o'clock, European time (6 o'clock Cape Verdean) we were hove to about 15 miles away and, although we drifted with the current, we had peace, quiet and some sleepthat night and by 6 o'clock in the morning we were ready to put the anchor over the bow and motor 10 miles into Palmeira harbour and drop anchor on our first African island.

Waiting for the weather

Whether to go or whether to stay?

We had intended to leave El Hierro on 1st October but here we still are on 9th and with no plans to leave before 15th at the earliest. For the first week we had no wind i.e. 5 knots or less for a few hundred miles. Since, with fair winds it is likely to be a 7 day trip, we did not want to go out and wallow for days on end and we did not want to motor for that many miles either. So we waited for the wind and along came storm Leslie - with over 50mph winds at its centre. Although it passes north of here, it has swing the winds round onto the nose and created huge swells which will not abate until at least Monday. So, along with a Swiss boat heading in the same direction, we wait and we check forecasts,

There are worse places to be.

Lots of sunshine means lots of swimming, with Scruffbag now jumping off the back of the boat and swimming round to the steps in the harbour and both of us sampling the rock pools on the other side of the island.

We have walked along that coast and enjoyed the  rocky coves and natural bridges.

We have walked along the high ridge and through the pine forests, picking and eating wild figs along the way.

We have walked over the lava fields along this coast.

We have had a couple of very tasty and inexpensive fish suppers at local eateries and we have watched the annual open water swimming contest, with classes for 18km, 6km and 2.5 km, followed by an evening entertainment on the quay until 4am.

We plan more walking and more swimming over the next few days and then, we hope the weather gods smile on us as we say our goodbyes to Europe and head south.