Benners Adrift

How Bureaucrats Solve Problems or Why We Should Shoot All the Deputy Ministers Long Before We Shoot All the Lawyers

2012-01-24T07:04:00.002-05:00

2012 0124
Almerimar

Italy, racked by economic turmoil, recession and unrelenting overspending by government has decided that one way to solve its budget problems is to TAX SAILBOATS.

Here is a report from Noonsite:

The newly appointed Italian government has presented parliament with a set of austerity measures to save the Italian economy. As it stands, boat owners / users (including foreign visiting yachts) will be subjected to a daily tax for the duration of their stay within italian waters. This will come into effect on the 1st May 2012 and the proposed tax per day is as follows:

a) euro 5 - from 10,01m to 12m;

b) euro 8 - 12,01m to 14m;

c) euro 10 - 14,01m to 17m;

d) euro 30 - 17,01m to 24m;

e) euro 90 - 24,01 to 34m;

f) euro 207 - 34,01m to 44m;

g) euro 372 - 44,01m to 54m;

h) euro 521 - 54,01m to 64m;

I) euro 703 - above 64m.

The above measurements are intended as overall length in accordance with EN/ISO/DIS 8666 Small Craft Principal Data.

The above daily tax rates will be reduced by 50% for all sailing yachts with an auxiliary engine. It is however still unclear whether this reduction will be restricted to sailing yachts between 10 and 12m or whether the 50% reduction will apply to any sailing yacht of any length..

Further reductions of the above rates will be applied to all yachts in accordance with the age of the yacht calculated with effect from the 1st january subsequent to the year of manufacture. The reductions are as follows:

5 years and over - 15%;
- 10 years and over - 30%;
- 15 years and over - 40%.

All yachts undergoing yard maintenance will not be liable to pay tax for the duration of works.

The penalty for late, partial or non payment of the tax will be a charge between 200 and 300% over and above the amount of tax evaded.

Now there two certain outcomes:

It will cost Italy more to collect this nightmare of a tax that it will collect. Think of all the new bureaucrats and enforcement personnel that will have to be hired.
Once imposed it will never be removed.

and several possible additional outcomes:

All foreign boats will leave Italy driving up the cost of wintering in Spain.
Spain and all the other Med countries will follow suit and tax pleasure boats.
Every country with a metre of shoreline anywhere in the world will impose a tax for boats transiting their territorial waters.

For Meredith the tax will be €5 less 40% because we are more than 15 years old which leaves us at €3. The €3 is reduced by 50% because we are a sailboat so our net tax will be €1.50 per day.

€1.50 is a not a lot of money. But now we will have to carry proof of payment of tax at all times while in the country and produce it probably at every marina and to every cop and interfering government sob who demands it.

We can enter Italy in a $100,000 motor home for free. Somehow because I sail I must pay a tax.

If the tax holds it is unlikely we will go to Italy at all, not even by car. This crap just pisses me off.

Closed Because the Pig is Late

2012-01-23T10:41:00.000-05:00

2012 01 23
Almerimar, Spain

All Hail His Majesty
King Cerdo seen here among his subjects
at the butcher counter at the Supercor in El Ejido

Tragedy struck this sleepy oceanside town this week when the local carniceria was forced to close early due to a lack of pork.

A terse hand sign drawn in stark black hung in the door of the popular butcher shop and marisco outlet informing the pig eating public of the town's new meatless diet:

"Cerrado. El Cerdo es tarde."
[closed. The pig is late]

In only a few hours the consequences of the tragedy began to make themselves known. With the cerdo being late the butcher saw no purpose in being open. No cerdo meant no carniceria and that meant no pescado (fish) and worse, no mariscos (shrimp).

Around here people do not keep freezers full of meat. Meat is something you buy today to eat today.

In our little community life as we knew it changed. Having no cerdo was inconceivable. We became the village of the damned, crowds of walking dead, staggering about the streets zombie like seeking mindlessly to find and eat fresh flesh. Flesh of Cerdo. Cerdo. Cerdo.

Jamon Iberico on the Wall at Mercadona
our Favourite Grocery in Almerimar
In the foreground you see the intricate rig
they use to shave the ham properly

Spain runs on the pig you see. Pork is king and there are no pretenders to the throne. Fish and shrimp are much ballyhooed but more in the sense that we fete gold medalists at a handicapped olympics: we applaud the effort not the result.

There is no beef in this country worth calling beef. There is not even cow good enough to grind up for ground beef. Stores here stock something called "Burger Meat"" so housewives can make meatloaf and such without having to grind their own protein. (Despite the astounding growth of McDonalds outlets and Burger King facades in the territory burgers have not made much of an impact in local kitchens.)

Steaks, when you can find them which is never, are 1/3 inch thick (for metronomes that would be on the order of 8 mm) so there is no such thing as rare. The instant that piece of meet touches the grill it is flame broiled to a nice well done leather. Such organization of gastronomic society is inconceivable to a Norte or Sudamericano. Our entire existence is dependent on consumption of some part or other of a cow.

Local grocery stores devote as much shelf space to beef products as a Piggly Wiggly allows for goat. That is to say virtually none. Piggly Wiggly, a big American food chain, by the way knows nothing about pigglies.

Counter at the Carnaceria, Supercor, El Ejido

The action centres on the jamon or ham. Local ham is dry cured and made from distinctive black pigs found only around here. You have simple Jamon Iberico, exquisite Iberico Pata Negro, unbelievably expensive de Bellota and then de Recebo, de Campo, de Cebo. In the interests of racial harmony, Jamon Serrano, usually made from white pigs (which taste pretty darn good too I must say) is sold as a less expensive alternative.

Hams are sold whole, everything from the toe to the thigh, and every butcher shop has its walls lined with cured hams, hundreds of them, hanging from the hoof along one or two walls. A ride on the local bus is guaranteed to introduce you to one or two senior citizens returning from their morning shopping with a hoof emerging from the top of their grocery carts.

It is only disconcerting the first couple of times.

When you taste the ham you get it.

Soothing Over Comments for Upset Euroweenies

2012-01-12T23:19:00.001-05:00

The EU does have stuff. Food and booze and tobacco are available in abundance. Life in the cafes is unequalled. You may wonder what more could ever be needed.

For a geek the EU, at least the southern EU, does not have good discount computerware or marine ware.

So I am not upset with Europe, well no more than normal, but Europe just does not have good computer discount stores. Or chandlers. Or Walmart. Or Amazon. Or UPS. (EU shipping sucks totally by the way).

So Europe is a nice place but honestly I am too North American for this ever to be home.

It is so darn foreign :)

Returning to the Land of Not Enough Stuff

2012-01-12T23:09:00.001-05:00

2012 01 12
London, ON

"Every time I come to Ontario I make sure there is room in my suitcase"

These words from my daughter Erin who lives close to the Naval base in Esquimault BC promulgate the beginning of an unfortunate situation for the crew of Meredith.

Not only do we lack the room to carry everything we need back to Europe but we are unsure how to smuggle 8 litres of maple syrup and 4 kilos of peanut butter into Spain.

It's only two voices in the choir, I know, but Spain does not have Peanut Butter and does not have Maple syrup. What else does Spain not have? I am not even going to start on the mass of computerware that just does not exist in the EU (as in Tigerdirect real) :

Goldsource 3000 watt transformer/voltage converter to transform EU 220 volt shore power to 120 volt power usable on our very north american sailboat. It will also isolate the ground wire and this makes us very happy. We tried using a German made battery charger to keep our 12 volt batteries topped up but it was a half measure and half measures rarely work. The transformers available in the EU cost upwards of €400 plus VAT of 18% in Spain (24% in Portugal scheduled to go up). In USA price was $104.
Logitech USB microphone so I can practice my Spanish in the Rosetta program. In Spain the mike was €40. In Canada $18.
Toshiba Thrive and Blackberry Playbook with an Otterbox. A separate blog will be forthcoming on the astonishing change in onbaord computing in the last 6 months.
Skullcandy earbuds for $10 CDN, not available in EU
new CISCO router for sharing wireless. $15 CDN at Tigerdirect, no idea how dear in EU
Fuji camera to replace the old Olympus now lying at the bottom of the Atlantic in Almerimar
GoPro Xtreme videocam with headband and assorted mounts for various boat mounting options. $100 US in North American, selling for just over €200 in the EU. Plus VAT of course.
2 tubs of peanut butter, one for a friend
8 litres of maple syrup
two new fittings for the staysail track. Custom made for us by Garhauer for $20 each. The marine metal specialist in Almerimar told us it was impossible and could not be done. Of course the chandler in Almerimar told us that Cetol had been banned and was not being made any longer. He then told us we could buy it at the shipyard only 200 feet away.

So we leave home with a heavy heart and a heavier bag.

Elliott Gould on Blogs

2012-01-10T12:26:00.000-05:00

I have little respect or use for Elliott Gould as an actor but the writers for the movie Contagion provided his character with a righteous quote:

"Blogs aren't writing. Blogs are graffiti with punctuation"

Come with Me Where Dreams Are Born and Time is Never Planned

2012-01-03T15:51:00.000-05:00

2012 01 03
London, ON

J.M. Barrie was not referring to London Ontario when he put pen to paper and crafted that line. (the line is from Barrie's Peter Pan). Cruising sailors know: we inhabit a world unknown to those imprisoned on land.

The crew of Meredith, with only ten days left until return to Spain, has begun preparing.

For those of you who have not cyphered it out Spain is one of our most favoured places to live. Were it not for the Schengen Zone Immigration Rules we would stay a while longer but it looks as though we must leave Europe only days after our arrival.

Having to sail to Africa with visits to Morocco and Tunisia and Egypt is hardly a burden.

We go with only the vaguest of images of what we will see, who we will meet and how long we will spend anywhere. Our plane cannot leave too soon.

Breakfast of Tomatoes

2011-11-04T12:00:00.002-04:00

2011 11 04

This morning I woke before my wife. Nothing unusual in that. It was black, raining and blowing 25 knots.

Working from primitive sense memory I put the kettle on for coffee and sat down to the Spanish lesson. You know, my everyday routine.

Fatigue was gangling my synapses and the computer did not seem to want to boot up. So there I sat, no brain and no mechanical assist. Usually I can cover up an hour or two of retardation by randomly hitting keys on the computer and complaining about the "slow internet" in Spain.

Meanwhile the water was not yet hot enough for coffee. What was wrong with that Kettle?

The residue of yesterday's exercise of driving, to Murcia, around Murcia, through Murcia and back again was confirming what I had thought of Murcia through most of yesterday.

Unhappy I was, not only with Murcia but also with the unpleasant taste in my mouth. Unable to undertake emergency site restoration due to the refusal of my stubbornly recalcitrant kettle to heat my coffee water I hit the fridge in desperation, looking for anything that might cut through the patina of early morning and age and gross stuff that was clogging my olfactory canals and most of my sensory inputs.

Hah. A glistening bottle of L'Ambrusco. Red this one was, but I think that is strictly a function of coloured additives. "What colour are we making today, Jose?" Cold as ice the bottle was already frosting with ambient humidity. Merely the sight of the bottle drew forth memories in my hot dry throat: that delightful effervescing light strawberry sensation.

Deftly pulling the cork, with L'Ambrusco a task requiring more skill at keeping the cork in the bottle than pulling it out, I looked about for a glass. Any glass would do, even one of last night's beer glasses.

Oh who was I kidding. I put bottle to lip and in one multi swallow draft I rejuvenated my entire cranial cavity. Oh. Oh!! It burns so nice. Icy and hot all at the same time.

Clarity came, carried on the backs of tiny alcohol tinctured bubbles. My life began.

The kettle boiled.

I turned off the stove and sat before my now humming computer with my bottle of L'Ambrusco at hand and a hummus sandwich. Hmmm. "Must have found some hummus while searching the fridge" I said to myself as I settled in to Rosetta Stone.

How Lucky For Me.

ps. "Tomato" is the derogatory term used by the local expat Brits to describe local Spanish citizenry. As their economy contracts the only work available to many Spanish here is tending plants in the local greenhouses. Greenhouses which feed all of Europe all year long.

Most of our friends are local Spanish. And no, they do not start many mornings with a bottle of L'Ambrusco. Only the good ones.

Retiring in Spain

2011-11-02T05:25:00.000-04:00

2011 11 02

No Photos - the BC dropped our waterproof camera in the Mediterranean. It's being waterproof explains why we find ourselves high and dry without any images.

As a retirement home Almerimar is more than adequate. We engage in a lot of rest home activities: drives in the countryside and reading, morning exercises and language classes.

So far we have avoided guided bus tours.

Thankfully we have avoided descent into the nightmare of expat British society: drinking at the British bar, watching British soccer leagues, meeting at the "British" chandlery each morning to complain about the inferior races that surround us.

Even with the aid of frequent resort to good cheap alcohol, there are times I miss living somewhere relevant.

Being in "The Med" has captivated the Budget Committee. My wife likes old broken useless things so Europe is win win for the two of us.

Everything worthwhile in Spain seems to have been designed by the Moors, built by the Romans and paid for by the Germans. There is not much Spanish in Spain but we do enjoy stabbing away at the language.

There are days when we downright eviscerate it. With relish.

We look forward to doing the same thing to Greece.

The Three Out of Four Mornings Exercise Troop

2011-10-21T10:03:00.004-04:00

The Three Mornings Out of Four Women's Exercise Troop
save for Maggie who has the camera

Seven a.m.

Connie climbs out of the V berth and quietly dresses in the salon. In the icy cool of the pitch black morning she makes her way to the bow of our 38 foot sailboat and climbs down to the ground using the cross piece on the anchor for a foothold.

From my redoubt in the bow, under warm soft sheets and down comforter, I hear the troop of women marching in synchronized determination as they exercise their way to the front of our boat. As the troop passes Connie falls into her assigned spot usually beside Fumi, the Japanese grandmother from Foxglove, and quickly picking up the rhythm of the her troopmates she moves off in lockstep with the Three Mornings Out of Four Women's Exercise Group. Not a word has been spoken.

Two hours later she returns, face showing the physical strain of her morning's exertions. Quietly she sits, picks up her kindle and without a further word, reads the morning's Toronto Star. She rarely moves for the ensuing two hours.

Led by Maggie from Waterhobo a group of eight boating wives subject themselves to rigorous physical workout for three mornings in a row. One day is allowed off and then they do three more days. It is a little paramilitary group.

Paqui Cooks Her Own Sausage with Excessive Delight
While Mary Belle Uses the Flame for Something Less Symbolic

After hours, which means any time the group is not exercising, they go to the market, get together on one or another boats for drinks and dinners and generally live live to the full.

Fumi, Mary Jesus, Maggie and Terry at Market

Last Wednesday the group went to a local market returning with olives, fruit and fresh everything. Copious amounts of liquor were consumed that left most of them next morning burdened with substantial hangovers. Not that any hangover would be permitted to interfere with a workout.

Membership in the group is not limited to women, at least not by any stated rule. One man attended one morning session but never made the second morning. "It's like childbirth" my wife explains "It Hurts. Men Aren't Interested".

For once we agree.

The group is bound by no discernable common thread. One is English only, another near so, one is near Japanese only, three are Spanish speaking only. Not all have children.

As you can see despite the near military degree of organization and commitment at work in the group they enjoy a full measure of fun.

Serendipitous Money Making. Cheap Car Rentals and VPNs.

2011-10-20T09:48:00.002-04:00

2011 10 20
Almerimar Artificial Urbanity, 20 km outside Almeria, Spain

Serendipity: The ability to make accidental and beneficial discoveries while searching for something unrelated.

For the first time since leaving North America we are enjoying respectable internet service, courtesy of Sonimar Telecom, a local ISP.

Naturally as soon as you have internet you have issues that need working around. This time I found a few North American websites would not let me log on because I was in Europe. Sites like (and I will not identify the sites I was visiting) Hulu only provide service to US Americans. Europeans and Canadians are not permitted to use the service.

When you log onto the WWW you are assigned a unique address called an IP address. This address contains enough information that people who know how can trace you back to the country, city, street and building you are sitting in. By now they can probably figure out what table at Starbucks you are sitting while you sip latte and catch up your emails.

It is possible to mislead these WWW snoopers using a service called a VPN. If you do not already know what that stands for you don't worry, you don't need to know. (VIrtual Private Network)

Using a VPN service provider you trick people into thinking you are in a different place than you really are. When you access the WWW through a VPN service the VPN makes the other users on the WWW think you are in the country where the VPN service provider is. This is way cool.

Here is how it made me money:

The BC and I want to rent a car to tour Spain from our post in Almerimar. The best deal we could find on the internet was a two week rental for €320 plus insurance and VAT plus €3 a day if we wanted a second driver plus all sorts of other financial ugliness. Speaking of ugly you should have seen the car that was on offer.

This was a bit pricey and we were disappointed.

However it turns out that the price was only that high because the car rental company thought we were in Spain. Friends on Waterhobo, another Toronto boat, had friends who got a much better price with the same company when they booked their car in Canada.

Enter the VPN. I was already using a VPN to make the WWW think I was in Canada so I could access certain sites backhome. I logged onto the WWW through my VPN service provider and arranged an address that made everyone on the WWW think I was physically in the USA, land of competition. Oh My God.

When it was bidding for my business believing me to be in the USA the same car rental that wanted to rent me the tiny ugly but super car for €350 plus plus plus now would rent me a car for $150 (note dollars not euros) with all insurance included and second driver free. This was a 60 per cent discount.

Now that my friends was serendipitous.

VPN: give it a good hard look. It is an easy service to use. Try out a few service providers before you commit. I am using OpenVPN and recommend it. I am not receiving payment from OpenVPN it just works for me.

If I were Spanish I might be less than sanguine about the fact my local car rental company charges me double what it charges an American.

And I am not even American, the WWW just thinks I am.

ps Using a VPN gives you a host of other special benefits - like greatly enhanced privacy.

Playing Solitaire 'Till Dawn...

2011-10-18T09:34:00.000-04:00

2011 10 18
Almerimar, Almeria, Spain

Yesterday afternoon the quiet little german fellow in the boat beside us sat down in his cockpit, about 1:30 pm, and began to trim his toenails.

Last night, 7:00 pm., as we left our boat to go find someone to drink with, he was still at it, filing away.

Not until this morning did it occur to me that this might have been a bit odd.

Other People's Trying Times

2011-10-14T15:10:00.003-04:00

Here was the perfect post from Canadian friends on a cat which gives a sense of how cruising changes your attitude towards sailing and type A behaviour. This livewire couple are headed from Culahtra toSeville:

Hi Bob

Well, we aimed to leave out the east end of Culahtra first thing in the morning on an ebbing tide. We almost made it, but then decided to take a nice coffee break on a private little sandy island. Well, it became an island about half an hour after we beached on it. And then we were joined by a couple of tourist boats who also wanted a day trip to a deserted island.

So by the time we got going again it was a bit later in the day. We headed for Ayamonte. Then we read about the tides in the morning and decided that would be a pain if we were to get going early. So then we headed for Tavira, but came to the same conclusion about that. So then we did a trial anchor just outside Tavira and concluded it was fine. And the wind had picked up with a nice sea breeze, so we decided we would sail another three hours down the coast and anchor off the beach outside of the Guardiana river.

Then tomorrow we will head for Bonanza and see if we make it before dark....

Man do I love anyone, even in a cat, who would try to leave Culahtra via the eastern gap. And on a falling tide!!! Fantastic.

And look at all the friends you made.

What Do You Do About a Problem Like Almeria

2011-10-14T11:05:00.000-04:00

2011 10 14
Almeriamar Marina just outside Almeria Spain

From our Anchorage Last Night
at Castell del Ferro

After three weeks the Levant winds out of the east have died down. Finding a five day windless window we took off from Alcaidesa Marina in La Linea. For reasons given below we do not recommend ever taking your boat to this marina. Next time, if there is one, we will go to Gibraltar.

The south coast of Spain becomes quite mountainous and provides a fabulous daytime viewing opportunity and equally fabulous anchorages at night. Leaving La Linea several hours late on the 12th we were hard pressed to make our planned destination in available daylight. Late in the day however we received an unexpected boost from some errant current and all lost time was made up and then some. We continued past our planned anchorage and dropped hook off the beach at Fuengirola about ten minutes before sundown.

This anchorage was unprotected from all directions but the ocean was flat, winds were calm and the forecast called for more of the same. It was a marvellous night.

When we get to Almeria we want to rent a car
and drive the road you just see here

Next day we were underway at sunrise, eight o'clock en punta. This was another great day with mountains for view and dead calm seas. Only two hours produced wind worth motor sailing in but we motorsailed them both. Since leaving the Bay of Cadiz we have travelled with only the fifty gallon tank of water, leaving the one hundred gallon forward tank empty. Our fuel economy is way up as a result.

The Craggy Face of Our Protector from the Sea
Castell del Ferro as we enter the space

Intending on anchoring at Motril, just outside the marina last night we again were visited with a strange boost of speed as the sun settled low in the sky. We happily passed by Motril which looked sort of grungy and then gave a pass to Cabo Sacratif, pictured above, and Calahonda which was occupied by another boat. Just as sun was touching horizon we made it to Castell del Ferro and anchored in a charming cutout from the rocks with no other boats. We slept like babies just 200 metres off the beach and 200 metres off the rock cliff.

Exploring Along the South Coast of Spain

Almerimar is where we tie up for our return to Canada for Christmas and reunion with family and friends. There will not be a lot of posts until our return at the end of January.

From here we explore inland Spain with a list of places we want to see that we know we cannot fulfill. Willing to die trying however.

The Last Post

2011-10-10T05:06:00.000-04:00

2011 10 10
La Linea, Spain

The Airport at Gibraltar - Note the Intersection
thanks to wikipaedia

Gibraltar is all that is left of the British Empire. Visiting here has been a priority with Meredith.

Behind the Light is the Runway

The absolute best part of Gib, as the locals call it, is getting in. From our in La Linea the border between Spain and Gib is a five minute walk. To get from Spain to Gib walk across the border. This takes twenty seconds and in that time you are vetted by Spanish Immigration and UK immigration. Then you get to the fun bit.

I caught this jet taking off
traffic on the intersecting street (at the top) is stopped at a
traffic light

Leaving immigration control you encounter an intersection with traffic signals. The cool bit is that the street with which you are intersecting is the runway for the international airport. When a jet is taking off the lights stop all ground traffic from crossing the runway so the jet has a clear path.

These Little Fellows are Protected. Rumour has it
when the Macaques Leave Gibraltar so will the British

After this things are a bit mundane. You go up the mountain, get the usual cursory introduction to the three year seige of Gib by the Spanish, look at some caves and tunnels, watch some macaques void their bowels on your tour bus and return to walk around the ubiquitous narrow winding streets full of overpriced shops. Arriving back at the boat you are happy to have been to Gibraltar but are quizzical as to what happened to all your enthusiasm.

Shopping On a Gibraltar Street inside the Fort

The Fortification sheltering the Tourist Shops
from Attack - all real business is done downtown.

Prices here are crippling. Thirty Seven Dollars for two burgers with a side of fries and a diet coke at a nondescript cafe. We are not sure what was ground up to make the tasty patties but suspect it was horse. For sure it did not come from any part of a cow. The electronics stores, reputedly source of great tax free bargains, were charging more in pounds than any American retailer would ever charge in dollars for the same item.

Walking through Morrisons, a big UK grocery chain, we found prices ranging from thirty to four hundred percent higher than their Spanish equivalent. You wonder why the Gibbers don't just drive to Spain and buy their groceries and wine for half the price.

Which is what we are going to do today. We can't afford to buy British.

Sands of the Kara Korum - All Over My Boat

2011-10-10T04:52:00.000-04:00

2011 10 10
Thanksgiving Day

La Linea, Spain

One of our solar panels pictured at 8 am this morning
was cleaned yesterday at 8 am
and yes I know that the sand did not likely come from the Kara Korum but
it was a good book and I liked the title

Windy, dark and overcast, today is perfect weather for celebrating Canadian Thanksgiving. Even though we are still wearing shorts we imagine ourselves back home walking in the fallen leaves, the slate sky pregnant with rain and the wind in your face. A good day for a long walk along the railway right of way preferably with a good dog. Even a bad dog would be welcome.

For near on three weeks Gibraltar/La Linea have been under the influence of a Levant,a steady strong wind out of the east carrying Mediterranean humidity and Saharan sand to be deposited on the suspecting but helpless citizens of Gib and outlying areas. Each day begins with us washing from our solar panels the patina of sun blocking corrosive grit which each night knits itself into a continuous cover over each panel.

For the last two months I have grown highly appreciative of the air filter on our diesel for it is clear that every breath of this atmosphere is full of death for mechanical systems.

Maintenance is a critical function here in the Med: Washing out grit and relubricating blocks, winches, slides, anything that rubs on anything else in performing its duty for the boat. Lots of work, lots of grease.

It does no good to just add more lubricant to old lubricant which is contaminated with sand. You have to remove the old and replace it with new.

A constant ritual of inspecting, cleaning, oiling, inspecting...

Africa Off the Starboard Beam

2011-10-07T11:28:00.000-04:00

2011 10 07

Algecaidesa Marina, La Linea, Spain

So Hercules, Is That One of Your Pillars or
Are You Just Glad to See Me
The View from Our Cockpit, La Linea

The forecast proved accurate and we woke this morning to no wind. Eager to get going we left a couple of hours before all the fearmongers told us we should. Because we were going from West to East this was no big deal and we were not set too badly. It is only fifteen miles from Tarifa to Gibraltar.

A huge body of old wives tales exists about how difficult it is to sail through Gibraltar and how and when transits should be undertaken. Prior to departing we had been fully briefed in how bad the winds would be and how strong the currents were and of all the rules we needed to follow to have even a hope of making it through.

We woke up, weighed anchor and set off. Our departure was completed at low tide, one of the conditions we were told never ever to try. Sometimes you want to find out for yourself. I hate being afraid of something I have not experienced first hand.

It was a nonevent. With the wind absent yesterday's unpleasant choppy seas were gone. Our transit was glorious and the adverse tidal flow set us about a knot.

It was impossible not to be aware that all firmament off our starboard side was Africa and we are very energized at the opportunity we have to visit some of those exotic locations: Morocco, Tunisia, Egypt, Israel and Turkey. This excites us.

Picking our way through the hordes of large freighters anchored in the protected waters off Gibraltar we could not help staring in delight at The Rock. Meredith is berthed at Alcaidesa Marina, a brand new facility where we are paying €8.50 per night for dock, electric and water.

Our dock is five minutes from the border between Spain and Gibraltar. You have seen our backyard view above.

Gibraltar

2011-10-06T13:53:00.001-04:00

2011 10 06

Tarifa, Cadiz, Spain
Right at the Straits of Gibraltar

The view from Meredith at anchor>
Tarifa in the Foreground
One of Hercules Pillars in the Back

We onboard Meredith are definitely buzzed.

Setting off from Cadiz early this morning we motored into a stiff breeze to Tarifa, about 50 nautical miles. Tarifa is a tiny point of land just at the western boundary of the Straits of Gibraltar.

Fifty miles into the wind makes for a long day so we quit when we got here and anchored off the beach just to the west of a breakwater at Tarifa.

To transit the Straits we want to run about three hours ahead of high tide. Normal flow of water is from Atlantic into the Mediterranean which surprised us.

Tomorrow the forecast wind is nil. That sounds like a good day to travel. We are off at dawn's first light (0830 local time) which will see us suffer some set from tide but nothing unbearable. Luck with us we will be in La Linea by noon ready for a day of sightseeing in Gibraltar. If the wind is still up then we sit in Tarifa until conditions permit.

Totally in awe but still smug, we remain,

Curmudgeon and the BC

Mistake in Cadiz; A Win in Puerto Sherry; Attending Church in Spain

2011-10-05T10:41:00.001-04:00

2011 10 05
Puerto Sherry, Bay of Cadiz, Spain

Once again I find myself stripping the photos from the blog because the only available internet will not support the bandwidth necessary to upload. This is endemic on the south coast of Europe and is getting to be a real pain. We are in a marina which advertises internet. Live every other marina we have been in since and including the Azores the marina at Puerto Sherry simply fails to deliver. We spent time at the University of Sevilla while in that city and were disturbed to find no wifi on campus and worse no not one student carrying a laptop or using a smartphone or ipad or whatever. Not one. This is a society unplugged and thus underinformed.

Yesterday Meredith moved from Bonanza just inside the Rio Guadalquivir to the Bay of Cadiz. Moved is the term, not sailed, for there was no wind to speak of and even the whispers were on the nose. Still it was uneventful and pleasant except for the incessant circling of our boat by Coast Guard and Aduana boats operating under the aegis of Spain. A lot of Europe's trade with Morroco in illicit substances is conducted along this shore and authorities were flying the flag and creating huge wake as they did so.

Arriving in the Bay of Cadiz we were faced with multiple anchorages and marina choices: Rota, Puerto Sherry, Puerto de Santa Maria or Cadiz. Having read bad reviews of anchoring possibilities in Cadiz and Rota we stroked them off the list deciding to visit Cadiz by ferry if at all. Our fuel was low and no fuel had been available at Gelves or at the marinas we passed on the Guadiana. Dipping the tank gave me a reading of ten gallons or so with five gallons more on deck.

Not every Spanish marina has fuel and many that do have only gasoline. Puerto Sherry was reported to have diesel.

The reports were sound but had failed to mention the fuel was priced at €1.35 a litre which is a pretty decent price around here. On the way into the fuel dock we scoped out the anchorage , a pocket of water lying between the beach and a breakwater. It seemed decent enough an anchorage but it was open to the south west (the breakwater is intended to protect the river from waves from the southwest and we would be anchoring on the Southwest side of the barrier). If the wind or sea changed direction there would be an unpleasant swell.

The marina at Puerto Sherry is bounded on its south limit with a seaside condo development which has been abandoned in midconstruction. Completed units are quite striking and the dozens of skeletons of partially constructed multistory homes are not unattractive except for what they say about the economy. This is the Spanish housing bust we have heard of.

Done with fueling we walked over to the marina office to check on rates for an overnight stay and found offseason rates kicked in on October 1. It would costs €14 a night with water and electric. We are here for three nights. Cheap fuel, cheap marina. Big win for the Meredith.

From Puerto Sherry it is about a 3.5 kilometre walk to the ferry dock where we would catch the ferry to Cadiz.

If you wish to avoid the long walk then you can choose to run up to Puerto Santa Maria where there is a Club Nautico. Like all things written in French when you see a Club Nautico you know it will be expensive, twice the cost of Puerto Sherry. It is also closer to the city, has its own pool and snooty guard staff (they asked me to leave the buggers) and seems a good choice for marina if you have the dough. Anchoring off Puerto de Santa Maria does not look inviting even if it is allowed. A large building with tall fences and razor wire runs along the river and that sort of says military or police. If so anchoring will not be permitted.

Today we took the ferry to Cadiz.

After eight days in Seville Cadiz was a disappointment. This really is the ugly sister. Cadiz has crashed. It was intent on becoming a seaport of significance but the attempt has failed. The citizenry are without work. Planners are desperately trying to create a tourist industry. And that is the problem. Planners.

Cadiz downtown is all nice and pretty (if you ignore the soaring container cranes and offshore oil rigs being constructed right there) and ridiculously expensive. There are a few old buildings and every one has an admission fee. If you have not seen the Cathedral of Seville you might think the Cathedral in Cadiz to be grand. The "old city", that collection of narrow windy streets that European cities all strut about having, is so small in Cadiz as to be perambulated in less than a day.

Sevillanos would laugh derisively about Cadiz' claim to its old city without ever wondering if having a bigger collection of tiny disfunctional streets might not necessarily be a good thing.

So desperate is the city for tourist dollars that they have removed almost all the benches from the old city so the only place you can sit is at a cafe. And there of course you pay. Twice what we paid even in the most pretentious neighbourhoods of Seville.

Cadiz does have a lot of churches and some of the less ostentious are quite charming. Since arriving in Spain I have spent more time in church than in my entire life before coming to Spain. Pictures are not taken because I am a guest in church not a belonger and it would be impolite. Except at the Cathedral of Spain where I did take photos but only because the church itself was so proud of its "wall of gold" and its "silver goblet thingy" that it would have been impolite not to point and click a few times.

Church in Spain is ever so much simpler and more enjoyable than in Canada. For one thing they have eliminated the problem of how much to leave in the collection plate. You remember sitting in the pew towards the end of the service as little boys or socially awkward men were enlisted to pass around plates on which you were to place your "offering". I never knew what to offer or what my offer was intended to purchase. mOstly I was just looking for time off for good behaviour if nothing else from the boring service. Here it is easy: you pay at the gate. There is a price list and if you want to get churched you stump up the price asked. Today for example the Cathedral of Cadiz wanted €15. I did not need that much church so I just passed.

In Spanish churches you don't have to sit down. You just walk around looking at things and when you get bored you leave unless the Budget Committee wants to look some more in which case you walk around trying to look interested. There are no boring sermons and no standing up and sitting down (and you never know when some churches are going to insist that you stand up or sit down).

If church was run like this back home I probably still wouldn't go but it would make weddings and christenings and other mandatory church appearances more bearable. Especially the bit about leaving when I got bored.

Walking about Cadiz I occupied myself by taking photos of doors. The BC likes doors and is forever stopping and pointing to some entranceway or other to comment "Nice door". Here would have been a few of my shots but as I say there is no bandwidth.

Baggies Full of Cell Phones

2011-10-02T10:42:00.001-04:00

2011 10 02
Bonanza, Spain
36 48.7N
006 20.8W

Only eight days ago saw us running upstream like spawning salmon. Today sees us back at the mouth of the Quadalquivir anchored just west of Bonanza (dum diddy dum diddy dum ditty dum ditty dum dum). Like our last visit here the wind is blowing one way and Meredith the other.

Leaving Gelves an hour before high tide in Seville allowed us to ride the tide for near the entire length of the Guadalquivir but it put us in Bonanza just an hour before the end of low tide. This meant we had strong wind on the nose out of the south and gentle current out of the north. Meredith is dancing.

On Meredith we find 1 knot of current is equal to about 30 knots of wind, ie it takes wind of 30 knots to equal the push power of 1 knot of water current. In our circumstances the two forces, wind at 20 and current at just under a knot were near in balance. This is not a problem long term as the tide will soon be rampaging up the Guadalquivir and the wind will soon be overcome. Until then we are just sitting about waiting for the boat to settle down so we can set the anchor properly.

While we sit I will get in a quick blog.

The quick post on cell phones drew a lot of replies. Most people feel similarly aggrieved by cell phone companies although the jury is hung on the issue of which side of the Atlantic the ripping off began.

Regardless it seems most of us have adopted the same solution: a host of baggies, each filled with a cell phone and labelled with the country where that cell phone works: Canada, USA, Bahamas, Portugal, Spain, Ireland (yes even in the midst of a potatoe famine the cell phone companies must eat).

For the benefit of the wonderful young lady who seemed just a bit offended that I did not find European cell phone companies to be vastly more wonderful than those in North American I will confirm that tonight we will call our family and save a bundle.

We will call and say to each child: "Call us back".

You see incoming calls on cell phones are free over here. So now our kids have to pay for the call and it is free on our end. Now that is an innovation I am growing used to.

Your Postcards will be Delayed

2011-10-01T03:37:00.000-04:00

2011 10 01

Seville, Espana

Our plans are to head back down the Guadalquivir tomorrow and make for Cadiz.

Yesterday we got around to filling out another round of postcards to go to various people we either like or want to impress with the fact we actually made it to Spain. We ran into a hitch.

The main post office in Seville, the big multistoried downtown head office, has no stamps. Perhaps "manana" the lineup of a dozen citizens was informed. The clerk informing us of this most regrettable situation wore the ubiquitous face of the Woman of Constant Sorrow that Spanish women, like their Portuguese counterparts, have so perfected.

You knew from her comportment that there would be no stamps tomorrow.

The crowd, largely English tourist in makeup, was vocal in its outrage and mockery. Clearly they were newcomers to the Mediterranean lifestyle. Stepping forward I approached the postal worker and confirmed in a loud voice "Sello acqui manana?"

"SI, yes" was the greatful reply. "Gracious" I rejoined. "Muchos Gracious" I ended with a big smile of appreciation.

The woman's face brightened, not a complete piercing of the mask of sorrow but recognition that she had saved Spanish dignity and had met the performance demands of Spanish institutionalism.

You see, in the Mediterranean it is not about actually accomplishing something. It is more about really really wanting to accomplish something.

Our postal clerk had gone to exceptional lengths to convince us that her post office would actually be selling stamps in short order. Around here that is just as good as actually selling stamps.

In Canada we do not have good or efficient postal service. Nor do they here in Spain.

In Spain at least the postal workers wish they did.

Letter from Seville

2011-09-29T04:44:00.002-04:00

Noel and Ceu:

Sailing from Portimao to Seville is an easy four day venture: Portimao to Culahtra, Culahtra to Ayamonte on the Guadiana, Ayamonte to Bonanza on the Guadalquivir, Bonanza to Gelves just outside of Seville.

We did find a repeatable pattern of wind along the south coast of Portugal and Spain - strong offshore breeze every morning which would slowly peter out as the sun warmed the land. By noon near calm and we motoring. As the heating continued the wind built from offshore and quickly made it to 17 knots where it held for the afternoon. This was our experience for each of the three days we took out of Portimao.

The first evening we slipped into the Guadiana River to anchor on the Spanish side of the river just north of Ayamonte in mud with good holding. The usual strong current runs as with all the river anchorages along this coast. A long entry into the river ate up an hour of daylight. The Guadiana did not look interesting enough to bother sailing up but we have heard good things.

Entry into the Guadalquivir is easy. A wide deep marked channel leads you in. Likely you will be coming in in the afternoon and so will have a following wind and waves. Not a problem for us and the wind had been blowing 15 to 20 all afternoon. Travel upstream until you are just off the small town of Bonanza. You will see a line of vessels anchored on the west bank of the river. Proceed upstream until you are just past the last of the vessels. Anchor on the west side in 15 feet of water in mud. Good holding.

We left for Seville at slack before low tide but you could profitably wait half and hour or so after low tide and might get a bit more push. Still the trip upriver took less than 8 hours.

When you get to Seville, which you can tell because you come upon a big concrete and steel structure on the East side of the river. You cannot miss it.

Now you must decide:

Go to Seville. Not recommended. Turn right at the lock and try to get locked up. When you are locked up you will have to anchor because you need to wait for a bascule bridge to open. So far as we can tell the bridge only operates at 2200 on Monday and Wednesday and then only if the Club Nautico calls ahead to tell the operator you are coming. Then you pay huge for a slip at the marina which despite reports does not look all that appealing. It seemed to us that city buses do not come within half a mile of the marina.

Go to Gelves. Recommended. In Spades. Just take the left branch past the diversion to the Canal de Alfonso XIII and carry on upstream for another two miles or so. You will come on a dilapidated tiny marina on your port side and a few small sailboats anchored in the river. Just past the anchored sailboats is a bridge that you cannot pass.

This stretch of river past the sailboats is a fabulous anchorage. Mud with good holding in about 30 feet. Strong current running I would say up to 4 knots so set the hook well. Dinghy to the marina which is actually part of the Puerto de Gelves. There is very little traffic past this anchorage so wake is minimum - nothing like the continuous wake of Portimao.

For €2 a day you can land your dinghy, use their modest but welcome showers and laundry facilities, fill with water and all that stuff. Staff are very friendly.

Once ashore you have two resto bars and a minimercado which is adequately stocked. You are close by several good groceries only a short walk or a bus stop or two away.

The bus stop is just outside the marina on the major road. We recommend the charcoal grilling at the Taverna del Puerto, a family run resto bar. The bartender, Fernando, is a cocky 18 year old who wants to take marine biology at university. His brother is even cockier but both of them in a delightful way. We have persuaded Fernando to come to Canada to check out universities in St Johns and Halifax. We are delighted that he has accepted, tentatively of course. No contracto. The father is a master on the grill and will prepare a true feast for you if you want. Mom is a Spanish delight.

Say hello from us. It will give the family a tickle.

Now, for buses and this gets a bit complicated:

1. There are three separate transportation systems: Metro, Tussam and Consorcio de Transport or Intercity Bus. They do not cooperate much.

2. From the marina you take the No. 140 Intercity bus to Seville. It runs every 20 minutes or so and takes you to a stop right in old Seville. You cannot miss the stop. Once over the bridge the bus turns right and runs a short distance down the river. It stops beside the river at a city bus stop. Cash fare is €1.35 each and the driver will make change.

3. Once in the City you want to get to a Metro station. There is one close to the downtown Intercity bus stop. The signs are green and you go underground - NOT THE ABOVE GROUND TRAM. In the Metro are machines that will sell you paper cards with magnetic reader devices. You pay €1.50 for the card and put some money on it, I think the minimum is €8 or so but don't worry you will use it.

With this card your bus only costs you €0.88 per trip. It is also good on the Metro which is really handy. There are no transfers between intercity bus and Metro even though you use the same card. However you get a reduced fare if you transfer. Your card keeps track of where you have been and when you climb on the bus from the Metro or vice versa it automatically reduces your fare by almost half. Not quite so good as a transfer but pretty decent none the less.

4. If you want to take a municipal bus, the TUSSAM bus system you have a problem. Just pay the cash fare of €1.35 per person is our recommendation. We looked for a frustrating 3 days to try to find a vendor of the Bonobus card used by the Tussam buses. With the card the cost of bus fare is reduced to €0.88 but they are hard to find. They are supposedly sold by every tobacconist. Most tobacconists are never open or closed their businesses down years ago. We finally found a vendor at the Gran Plaza Metro stop. Just walk around the plaze in a circle until you come on a kiosk in the street. The guy there sells the cards. If you are at Gran Plaza anyway take the B4 bus. It is a long meander through "real" Seville - apartment blocks, shopping centres and the local big box stores. Takes over an hour for a circuit but you are likely tired anyway.

After you find a Tobacconist suddenly they are everywhere. Seems like they hide until you do not need them.

You will get the standard tourist map at any of several tourist booths downtown and then you are on your own. You could spend a week just walking around the old downtown.

Yours truly

Curmudgeon and the Budget Committee

The Universality of Cell Phone Company Perfidy

2011-09-28T03:53:00.001-04:00

2011 09 28

Seville well Gelves actually), Spain

Patio at the Cathedral of Seville
taken from the top of the Giralda

New Country, New Phone Number.

Friends who cruised Greece a few years ago insisted it was easy peasy to change phone SIMs in Europe. Whenever you entered a new country you just bought a new SIM card and plugged it into your phone. SIMs were inexpensive and the process was near seamless. So they said.

We actually believed them. Arriving in Portugal we purchased a phone and Portuguese SIM from Vodafone. Vodafone run a multinational cell phone network through much of Europe and we reasoned this would make changeovers even easier. But we are dealing with cell phone companies here, masters of government sanctioned thievery.

Once the hook was down just outside of Seville, which is in Spain I hasten to add, we trotted down to the Vodafone booth to get a new SIM. As promised it was inexpensive.

However it would not work in our phone. No you see our cell phone was locked by Vodafone and would not accept other SIMs. But, we asserted, this is a Vodafone phone. It even had Vodafone engraved in its cover. Surely a Vodafone could not be locked out of a Vodafone network.

Yes it can is the quick answer. You cannot use a Vodafone Portugal cell phone with a Vodafone Spain SIM.

So everytime you change countries you must buy a new phone. Back home, where all things are done right and proper, this would be like having to buy a new phone everytime you went over a provincial boundary or state line. Ludicrous.

Of course Europe can teach us in North America nothing about being screwed by cell phone companies. We invented it.

Like the language it is different here. You still get screwed but they do it differently. :)

Since Reading Pillars of the Earth
I Always Look Up when in Church

Getting Lost in a River

2011-09-27T04:35:00.001-04:00

2011 09 27

Gelves, Spain

From the Cockpit at anchor:
A View of the Bridge Under Which We Could Not Pass

How hard can it be to pilot a boat up a river? This river, the Rio Guadalquivir, is like many other rivers. It has an east bank and a west bank and a bunch of wet stuff in between. All you have to do to navigate the river is keep the hull in the wet stuff. Wherever the river goes that is where you are going to get. It's not like you can get off.

This particular Saturday we even had the chartplotter on as we made our way up the fast moving road to Seville. How is it possible we got lost?

Well, let me tell you.

Fifty five miles have to be traveled upstream from the mouth of the Rio Guadalquivir to get to Seville a city of 700,000 souls and capital of Andalucia region of Spain. Seville is a massive city built built all around the river To enter Seville you sail up the Rio Guadalquivir to a big new lock. Before you can enter Seville you must go through a lock built on the river to protect the city from the violent tides experienced by the river.

To me the big new lock looks suspiciously like a sewage treatment plant. The Budget Committee, my reference point of choice, agreed that the massive concrete and steel edifice we came upon looked exactly like a sewage treatment plant. In fact I think the Sevillanos have built a sewage treatment plant right at the locksite so the effluent can be released directly downstream without building up in the city while waiting for the next locking.

That last bit is mere conjecture on my part.

There was no way we were sailing our boat into the discharge ditch of a sewage treatment plant. So we didn't. We should have.

For another couple of miles we continued upstream blissfully unaware we were headed the wrong way. The extent of our navigational blunder disclosed itself when our river, no longer the Guadalquivir, began to narrow. Then it began to have trees on its banks. Then it began to have fallen trees across half its width.

When you sail along a river half blocked with fallen trees your confidence ebbs a bit. YOu begin to suspect something is amiss. In the beginning you tell yourself the fallen tree trunks are just debris from a recent storm, so recent no cleanup has been effected. YOu try to ignore the evidence: the trunks of the trees are devoid of green leafery and trail significant booms constructed of flotsam caught in their dry brittle branches. Flotsam you have to admit has been building up for months or years or even decades.

Still you do not accept that you missed Seville. Seven Hundred thousand people live there. You cannot just miss that while you motor up a river. You earnestly believe that Seville, which is only a mile up the sewage treatment lagoon you just passed, is really just around the next bend.

Then you round the next bend and see the bridge. A low bridge. A low bridge with no lift mechanism.

So what do you do? Yeah, yeah. You stop the boat. But after that what?

YOu don't know where you are. Your chartwork is so pathetic you cannot find a city of near a million souls on a river bank. Your chart plotter has figured out it is in Spain and is taking its afternoon siesta. All you wish is that you had brought your $5 Walmart road atlas of Europe.

What we did was to drop our anchor.

Our passage blocked by the bridge we took a good look around. It was miraculous. We had found a deserted stretch of treed river. No boats, no traffic, no people. No noise. It was heaven.

Exploring our surroundings by dinghy we discovered that what had appeared to be an abandoned and seemingly derelict marina a mile downstream was not closed at all, just sort of closed for Saturday and Sunday. Arrangements were made to land the dinghy and use showers for €2 a day. The marina is right on a bus line with ten minute service to downtown Seville, has two bars and two restaurants and the best minimercado we have been in.

That night we introduced ourselves to the local inhabitants of the marina which turned out to be the Port of Gelves.

Dining late at the Taberna del Puerto the owner who, learning we wanted to find out about local cuisine treated us to a grilled tour of the gastronomic delights of Andalucia. A five course meal with lamb, Iberico pork, steak. As we sat at table in the driveway to the Puerto, along with all the locals, dogs and all, this man would interrupt us every fifteen or twenty minutes with his latest grilled delight, ending with the best steak we have ever enjoyed. As he tended grill his wife and son who manned the bar constructed their own own tour of locally produced wines and liquor. We ended the night with icy shots of a locally produced liquor Miuro, or "the Bull": bloodred, icecold and strongly liquorice and cherry.

It has been since the Azores that we have enjoyed a dinner this much. We might just stay lost.

Travelblog: Culahtra to the Guadalquivir

2011-09-27T04:32:00.000-04:00

After a few days idling in Culahtra we said farewell to Life Part 2, a boat with which whom we shared company very informally for a few weeks and continued to the Rio Guadiana. This river forms the border between Portugal and Spain.

It might be nice we thought to motor up the river and see some countryside.

Next day was a long day sailing. There are fishing nets everywhere along the south coast of Portugal and Spain extending five or ten miles out from shore. "Everywhere" means literally everywhere. Not a hundred feet between nets which extend for hundreds of metres in any direction.

It was a long haul against tide to get to Ayamonte

We arrived late and sailed into the river fighting a building current against us. Anchoring in a river bend just north of the Spanish town of Ayamonte we slept well. That's not true actually. I slept well. The Budget Committee did not like the very strong current, strongest we had found ourselves in till that point. She was up and down all night checking our anchoring against fixed landmarks.

The shabby condition of the towns on both Portuguese and Spanish sides of the border persuaded us not to sail up the Guadiana any further to just hightail it to the Guadalquivir.

Next morning we found ourselves tired but game to move. With the off shore breezing howling with renewed ferocity we were away just after sunup. Fifty miles we had to make to avoid coming into the Guadalquivir after dark.

As is the custom the land breeze held for about three hours and we were motoring. When the sea breeze filled in it chose an awkward angle and we found ourselves motoring into headwinds which built over the afternoon to the usual 15 to 20 knots. Very unpleasant.

Our eye was keenly on the time and we knew we were running things close to the wire. We carefully made our way into the Guadalquivir led by a very nice Spanish coast guard cutter dragging a dinghy almost as long as our sailboat.

Luckily just inside the river mouth is the Spanish city of Bonanza (try not humming the theme song , just try) with a decent anchorage at a bend in the river. LSundown was 1933 that night and we dropped hook at 1945. Around here when the sun goes down it is like a switch is turned off. Light ends. None of that lingering dusk as we used to count on back in North America.

It had been a tiring few days getting to the Quadalquivir but we had to be up early early early to catch the flood tide up the Rio Quadalquivir to Seville.

If a sailboat can catch the flood tide early it can sail the entire 55 miles of River with the tide helping it along. Trying to motor upstream against an ebb tide is just too painful and at European prices for fuel too expensive.

At 0700 we were up and by 0715 so was the anchor.

We rode the tide all the way to Seville. And as it turned out, well beyond.

Travelogue Portimao to Culahtra

2011-09-27T04:06:00.000-04:00

It was a short trip from Portimao to Culahtra, no more than 25 miles. After a month off,
sitting in Portimao, it was tiring enough. The daily landbreeze, blowing every night from
land to sea at 20 knots give or take 3 knots, held until about noon after which we motored
until the seabreeze picked up to similar velocity from the opposite direction.

The south coast of Portugal and Spain exhibits strong land breeze every night and strong
seabreeze every day. Of course there is a two or three hour gap around noon while the sun heats the land enough to stop the flow of air from land to sea and then recommence the flow in reverse: from sea to land. Each day begins with 20 knots off the land which subsides as the day progresses. Each afternoon sees development of wind from sea to land which strengthens, usually to the 20 knot range, as the day progresses.

This can be an issue if, late in the day, you are coming into a river at ebb tide. The wind will be a good 20 knots blowing against the tide giving very unpleasant chop. Worse if you are unlucky. Most of the rivers on the south of Portugal have shallow narrow entrances so attention to tide and time of day is important.

OUr first plan was to stop for the night at Albufeira only 15 miles from Portimao. There was no protected anchorage and by the time we had arrived the seabreeze was kicking up a strong rolly sea, too rolly to risk anchoring off the beach which is commonly done.

A quick check of the tides showed we would have flood tide entering the waterway between the island of Culahtra and the mainland. We changed destination.

Culahtra is really just a big sand dune separated from the mainland by a two mile wide waterway. Two large rivers flow into this waterway so there is considerable tide. The mouth of the entrance can exhibit tides of 6 knots or even higher.

Once inside there are three anchorages from which to choose. One, just at the mouth of a
river leading to Faro, a major city is wide open to wind and waves and tide and was just
ugly. The second anchorage was so unobtrusive we sailed right by without being able to
discern anything obout it which showed promise.

The third anchorage, located just off the city of Olhao at the North east end of the
island, is decent enough. Still open to tide and of course current from the river leading
to Olhao the anchorage is protected from waves on the Atlantic and is close to the island
of Culahtra itself. Our hook was dropped and considering the currents in which we would
find ourselves we dug for China with our anchor.

In the Lagoon of Reduced Circumstances

2011-09-27T03:52:00.000-04:00

2011 09 21
Off the Isle of Culahtra (Culatra), Olhao, Portugal
37 00 N
007 50.60 W

Constantly We are Surrounded by Friends and Well Wishers

Wish We had a Net

The second day after we anchored behind the island of Culahtra we received this email from a friend who had visited this much ballyhooed location a few weeks before us:

Lots of current from the river, unattractive scenery (this is my opinion - except perhaps those German men....no on second thought, ugh) and not very nice people - either driving boats or serving in the restaurants.
Perhaps for the Europeans who have never gone to the Carib, this place is a little different and somehow appealing . How lovely, no ancient forts, nor Moorish castles or centuries old cultures; boring after you have lived it for so long. Just give them a change of scenery within their world, beige sand beaches, ramshackle concrete building (with doors so small only children and tiny hobbits can enter) and some fish restaurants with high prices/rude waiters and voila they are in a new world - or at least a different place then what they are used to.


A Hobbit Hut?

The author can be forgiven some of her harsh criticism when you realize while at Culahtra a boat near hers dragged in the currents. The very next day she witnessed a powerboater drive over a swimmer turning him to hamburger.

Admittedly after our arrival we wondered what stimulated all the buzz amongst the Euro cruisers about Culahtra. Other than the exotically odd spelling of course.

If you want good sand dunes go to Ipperwash or Port Franks in Ontario. If you want service or friendly service do not come to anywhere in Portugal, especially Culahtra. So why visit Culahtra at all? Two reasons and one of them is not because you haven't been warned off yet.

Culahtra has a kick ass beach on its Atlantic side with great surf and good shelling. You get here by walking a mile long catwalk installed to protect the fragile sand dune ecology.

Part of the beach is a nude beach. Not knowing this we were interested indeed in one German couple who were not only forthcoming in their nakedness but quite libidinous in the presentation of their respective attributes.

The beach is but thin offering beside the real gem of the island of Culahtra: the Lagoon of Reduced Circumstances (regards to Alexander McCall Smith). At the far north east of the island there is a drying lagoon. You can walk across the lagoon at low tide if you don't mind finding yourself kneedeep in stinking oozing critter filled mud.

This guy is keel deep in mud - picture taken at half tide.
Look at the ladder.

Here, kneedeep in the stinking oozing critter filled mud of the lagoon you find a community of down on their luck Germans and Brits living on boats that have clearly not moved for months or years, or in the case of the more interesting specimans not since the Deluge.

It is a boating trailer park.

Every one of these boats, (I don"t know what else to call them.) is lived on full time. These guys live in the mud. At low tide you can walk to every one of them. In the black stinking oozing slithery critter filled mud. I am not sure how they get water on board but from the looks of them many of them don't need or use much.

This mess is lived in by guys who just
drove their boats up onto the sand

John Steinbeck would love them.

Another expat community living on the cheap and waiting to die in an obscure and uninteresting destination.

And we used to make sport of Vero Beach cruisers. At least they have colour TV. And showers.

Tomorrow we leave for the Guardiana River, border between Portugal and Spain and after that we are off to the Guadalquivir and Seville. Our sailing will take us to Gibraltar and we end up in Almeria where we leave the boat for a Christmas return to Canada.

Portimao for Sailors

2011-09-17T15:01:00.001-04:00

2011 09 17

last days in Ferragudo

Everything You Need to Get Started in Portimao
If you Click it It Grows

No one aboard Meredith wishes to tarnish the opportunity available to every sailor reaching a new destination to head off and try and figure things out: how do the buses work, where is the best grocery, how do I make things work. So for goodness' if you do not want the mystery of Portimao to be blunted in any way just don't read on.

Here is a sort of minimalist guide to getting around Portimao if you arrive by sailboat.

The Anchorage - East Side of the River Just Inside the Breakwater

Entry to the River is easy. If you are anchoring look to the east side of the river just as you enter the breakwater. There is a large anchoring field offering good protection from wind and waves. The bottom is mud and we have sat out 30 knot winds comfortably.

There are a few moron locals who love to make a big wake but this is a minor inconvenience.

Marina

If you wish to take the marina rates are high by Portuguese standards: €35 a night for our boat in high season reducing to €33 for September and then €15 for the winter. Many catamaran owners stay in Portimao marina over the winter as the marina does not charge a surcharge for cats.

Laundry

Laundry is available in a small building beside the marina office. The laundry is not run by the marina so the marina allows all cruisers use it. It is expensive - €5 for a wash, drying is €1 for ten minutes but the drying is slow. Most cruisers, even in the marina, were using the washers and hanging the laundry to dry on their boats.

With the constant wind and sun here laundry dries in no time.

Bus System

The bus system is difficult at first. Even finding the bus stop was a nightmare - no one knew. Or would tell. As it turns out the stop is a short walk from the marina. Tie up your dinghy on the south pier and walk over.

This shows the Marina Bus Stop and Laundry

When a bus comes to the stop it will be either a number 2 bus or a number 6 bus. Take either. The number 6 is an express and the number 2 will give you a tour. Your first trip will cost €1.50 per person paid in cash. The driver makes change. A machine prints a bus receipt which YOU MUST KEEP.

Take the bus to the Largo Do Dique Bus Hub. It is a small hub but you should not miss it. The bus will go all the way around a small plaza and then stop at the hub just in front of a SPAR grocery store. Get off the bus keeping your receipt.

Walk to the bus ticket agent. It is marked on the following photo but can be hard to find the first time. It is a tiny hole in the wall office just beside the Cafe des Inglese.

Buy a bus card for €3 and buy ten one zone passes for €7.50. You can buy the two zone passes which only cost €8.50 but you will likely not need a two zone pass for a couple of days.

Here are the buses you will need right away:

No. 2 bus: takes you from Marina to Largo do Dique. Until you are ready for a long tour do not take the No. 2 bus back to the marina.

No. 6 bus. This is the express bus from the marina to Largo do Dique and back again. It also gives you a nice tour of the Praia de Roches beach area. Hard bodies and lots of expensive eateries.

No. 5 bus. This is your bus to the mall which has a Jumbo grocery store and a McDonalds in the food court (in case you are jonesing for a Big Mac). Right beside the Aqua Mall is the Retail Centre with a nice grocery (with whole wheat flour), a Worten consumer electronics store and across the street from that is the MaxMat, a building supply and hardware store.

No. 4 bus. This does all of the above and also carries on to the Retail Park which has a Continente Grocery and some other big box stores as well as a Staples business machines and office supplies outlet.

What about your ticket? Keep it for two reasons:

it is good for one hour from the time it is issued. When you change buses you show the driver of the new bus your ticket and as long as it is less than one hour old you can board the bus.
the Portimao bus service runs and audit program. Randomly a bus official will board the bus and demand to see the tickets from everyone on the bus. Once, after reading my ticket, the guy demanded to see my magnetic stripe card to prove I had not picked the ticket up off the ground or shared another's card. I don't know what happens if you are cheating.

Groceries

The best grocery bet is the Pingo Doce store located just blocks from the Museo do Portimao. There is what seems to be a public dock at the Museum and you can walk to the Pingo Doce. This is a large store with almost everything you could ask for.

Gateway to the Pingo Doce

The nice thing about Pingo Doce is the attached cafeteria where you can buy well prepared full meals at very low cost. There is usually a long line.

Other than that we found the SPAR store at Largo do Dique to be basic but we used it often, eg for beer and heavy items. The Jumbo is good and the Continente store is its usual competent enterprise.

Chandlery

There are two chandlers, both located in the shipyard in Ferragudo across the river from Portimao. These are the Sopramar store and the Onda store. Both are decent in their own way but the Onda store seemed to be closed arbitrarily on several visits.

Sopramar is a chain store and in Portimao is staffed by two great guys. The has a good basic inventory but never seems to have just exactly what you need. The two guys will make a good show of ordering for you but ordering in Portugal is a Fairy Tale and usually after long delay you get something other than what you ordered. This is not the fault of the two guys in the store. It seems to be company policy.

It is a long walk to Ferragudo from Largo do Dique bus hub. No bus joins the two towns that we ever found. Best by far to dinghy to the stores as you can see:

Fuel

Buy your diesel at the marina and your gasoline at the Repsol which has a dock shown on the photo of Largo do Dique. Repsol also change butane containers.

That will get you started. With this you can get started on a marvellous exploration of the area. Bem Vindo.

Bilge Work: The Underside of Making for Sevilla

2011-09-17T05:03:00.002-04:00

2011 09 17

last days in Portimao

The Punishment Room - Behave Or You Have to Work in the Bilge

Before heading off to Seville we decided we should replace an ailing bilge pump switch. Our existing bilge pump switch had failed. We knew this because the Budget Committee, being Dutch trained, is an inveterate worrier and checked the bilge several times during our interesting voyage from Azores to Portugal. On one of her multiple checks she found the bilge full of water; the bilge filling continually with water draining along the entire length of the boat as Meredith was pounded with green water for days on end.

Fortunately it was only the switch that failed and the manual override worked to energize the pump and clear the accumulated salt water.

That the automatic switch had failed was not a total shock. On Meredith this is a common problem and we seem to have to replace the bilge pump switch every year or two. Since the switch may one day save our lives we are inclined to keep it well maintained. Of course they still fail and never at a good time.

The switch is a simple device: usually a float that closes an electrical contact when the water (loose term) rises and causes the float to rise to a predetermined level. Lately newer solid state switches with no moving parts have come onto the market. Our experience with these is that they are superb devices that have a working life of no more than six to eight months. Then they fail. We have tried two, both failed. The last was the one in Meredith when we left Azores. Now we just use float switches.

Some boats have wonderfully clean bilges; compartments that could be used by Mr. Clean, or Comet as a testament to the wonders of their respective cleaning products. Not so Meredith.

Even though I never spill a drop when changing engine oil there is a ubiquitous film of black hydrocarbon covering the pool of liquid (for I dare not call it "water") filling my bilge. Even though no tissue paper of any kind goes anywhere on Meredith save into the garbage bag in the sink (save only for the toilet paper which goes down the head on Meredith) there is always a floating mass of indescribably foul cellulose obstructing my bilge pump pump intakes. Where does this stuff come from?

Today I found the top off a jar of peanut butter floating in the bilge. We have never thrown out a topless peanut butter container. How is it possible for an orphaned peanut butter lid to be floating in my bilge?

It was. Six feet down which made recovering it just so special.

Bilge pump switches are installed in the lowest point in the boat where they spend their lives half covered with a noxious mixture of oil, fuel, dirt and filth; all the unwanted material from every other level on the boat runs to the bilge. If you ever wonder how the term "low point" came to have such negative connotation spend only a few minutes in the bilge. Clarity will find you; hopefully before you succumb.

Anyway, bilge pump switches need to be checked often and replaced when they are suspect. About all you can do to service a switch is clear it of accumulated muck, grease and animal skeletons and check for cracks in its plastic housing. Fail to replace the switch at the earliest sign of a problem and you may wake up one night to find your sleeping berth has the declined in elevation to water level.

Worse, if you have only small amounts of water coming into your boat a sticky switch will fail to clear the material and then you can enjoy the incredible heady odour that consumes the entire boat when a small body of water sits stagnant for a month in a dark warm space.

Usually it is corrosion that gets our switches and that most often in the wiring. It seems a constant bath of hydrocarbons leaves a switch well lubricated and, save for the inevitable black film, very clean. The hydrocarbon bath does have a deleterious effect on the life of coating on wiring and the plastic switch body however.

Both of our "electronic" switches failed due to cracks in the external wiring.

There are a couple of adaptations we have made to our bilge pump circuit that you might consider:

No "Automatic" Setting

We have the normal bilge pump switch with two settings: automatic, which turns on the bilge pump switch and manual which energizes the pump when you move the switch to that setting.

We eliminated the "automatic" setting on the bilge pump switch and wired the bilge pump switch directly to the batteries. Why would you ever want to turn off the bilge pump switch?

One year we left the boat in the water in Green Cove Springs while we returned to Canada for Christmas. Somehow we bumped the bilge pump switch and turned off the automatic feature so the bilge pump switch did not run. This will never happen again.

Piezo Electric Buzzer

we installed an inexpensive ($4 at Radio Shack) piezo electric buzzer into the bilge pump circuit. When the bilge pump runs everyone on board hears it. That way we can keep track if there is a leak problem.

The wiring is very simple. At the back of the bilge pump switch find the terminal that connects to the "manual" switch, ie. that tests positive when the "manual" switch is activated. Connect the positive (red) wire on the buzzer to that terminal. Wire the black wire on the buzzer to the negative bus. Every time your bilge pump runs, even on automatic, the buzzer will sound.

Unless the bilge pump switch has failed.

Converting Your Boat's Propane Cooking Gas to Butane Simply and Cheaply

2011-09-15T08:51:00.006-04:00

rocking gently on the current in Ferragudo, Portugal

2011 09 15

Early Evening In Ferragudo

Today while the Budget Committee took care of the laundry I determined to solve our cooking fuel shortage. Our twenty pound propane tank ran dry. Our twelve pound reserve tank would only last six or eight weeks longer.

Among the changes when you take your propane stove into Europe:

you have to start using butane
none of your North America fittings or connectors work
it seems there are no standards for anything on the entire continent

When your Canadian propane tank empties in Bahamas you just take it to the propane depot, or line up with the rest of the cruisers on Wednesday in the parking lot and wait for the propane truck to come. Either way: Voila. A full propane tank. Everywhere in North America and much of the Caribbean use the same standard bottles and connectors for using propane. No matter who is selling the gas the bottles and connectors are the same.

Not so in Europe. Much of Europe uses Butane for a cooking fuel instead of propane. There is a patchwork solution to size and shape of gas bottles, connectors and regulators. You may encounter several as you cruise from country to country.

What to do?

Some people buy expensive fittings that will adapt their propane tanks so they can be filled with propane.

Problems:

the adapter fitting is very expensive
as in North America it is increasingly difficult to find a station to refill a gas bottle. Mostly Europe uses bottle exchange where you take your empty bottle to the supplier from whom you bought it and exchange it for a full one.
if you find a refill station it will be a long way out of town and you will have to take a taxi. No one would take a propane tank on a bus. Would you? If caught the best you can hope for is to be thrown off the bus.

Another solution some people recommend is to buy a different adapter that lets you fill your propane tank from a local butane tank. You connect the bottles and then hold the butane tank upside down while the butane runs slowly down the connecting fitting into the propane tank. What is wrong with this picture (do you really need a list?):

the adapter is expensive
you have to buy a butane bottle to use this system. Why not use that bottle and skip the refill procedure?
Can you see yourself standing in the cockpit draining one gas bottle into another gas bottle?

These were maybe good solutions in the old days. Things have improved.

Here is Meredith's quick, easy and inexpensive way to convert from propane to local butane. It cost €31.50 for all the materials and took two hours including going to town to buy the hose and get the new tank (done by dinghy, the Repsol gas station in Portimao has a small dock)

Materials

1. A European Gas Bottle

This Good Looking Plastic Coated Gas Bottle
Came from the Local Repsol Gas Station

You can choose from several different gas bottle types and gas providers. The exact one really does not matter. We went with a Repsol 6 kg bottle that can be exchanged at Repsol gas stations all through Portugal and Spain. It fits nicely in a propane locker designed for ten pound propane tanks.

Repsol gas stations are everywhere in Portugal and Spain so exchanging empty bottles for full ones is simple and easy. The fittings on the tank are the same as on the BP gas bottles.

Cost of the tank: €30. Cost of the fuel in the tank: €14.50

Many sites recommend you use Camping Gaz but for reasons elucidated later we chucked that recommendation in the wastebasket.

2. A Regulator for your Butane Tank

Standard Butane Regulator purchased from BP
can be used with Repsol and Other Brand Tanks
Repsol GIve a Regulator Free when you Buy a Tank

You cannot use your propane regulator with butane. Butane is supplied at a lower pressure than propane and you can do harm if you fail to change the regulator. On the plus side when you buy a gas bottle the supplier gives you a regulator. Cool. More so because the regulator is easy to plumb.

If you want an extra you can buy one, as I did, at BP for €7.50.

The regulator has a barb on it designed to fit 8 mm butane rated hose. This makes the whole job very easy.

3. A length of Butane rated hose.

This is just hose so there is no photo. You must buy butane rated hose because Butane, like Propane, corrodes ordinary rubber compounds. You can get the hose at most heating dealers in any town. I got mine at the BP depot and it cost €1.50 for a metre.

The standard home use butane hose is 8 mm which is sort of useful. A North American 5/16 barb fits an 8 mm hose very snugly. In gas connections snug is good.

3. A 5/16 brass barb from North America.

5/16 inch barb and a Fitting to Connect to the Gas Shutoff

In addition to the barb you will also need a fitting to connect the barb to your gas shutoff valve. You should source these in North America because your gas shutoff will take imperial threaded fittings: American Standard Tapered Pipe or American Standard Straight Pipe.

You have to start with a 5/16 barb and end up with a pipe to fit into your gas shutoff valve. My gas shutoff takes 1/4 inch pipe with American Tapered so the actual pipe is .540 inch in diameter The guy at the Rona store or Home Depot or Lowes will help you. Check the gas shutoff before you go to the hardware.

If you do not bring a barb and fitting with you relax. What you do in that case is buy a new gas shutoff valve in Europe. It will take metric fittings and you install the metric shutoff in place of the imperial shutoff and use metric fittings. Not a problem. The gas shutoff will be expensive just like home but honestly, your gas shutoff is probably twenty plus years old and needs replacing anyway.

4. Two Hose Clamps

Usually already in stores but you can buy two for under €1.

5. Soapy Water

Procedure

This hardly needs to be written:

Hose Connected to Regulator

1. Connect one end of the hose to the regulator barb. Use a hose clamp to snug the connection up.

2. Connect the other end of the hose to the 5/16 inch barb. Use the other hose clamp to snug the hose to the barb.

Barb Connected to Gas Shutoff

3. Connect the fitting that will accept the 5/16" barb onto your gas shutoff valve. Use some teflon tape on the threads

4. Connect the end of the hose with the 5/16 barb to the fitting on the gas shutoff valve. Use more teflon tape.

5. Connect the regulator to the gas bottle.

6. Turn the regulator on which pressurizes the system and use the soapy water to look for leaks at your connection points. Do not squirt and run. Put some soapy water on the connecting point and sit and watch it for a few minutes. If bubbles show up you must snug things up a bit more.

You can now cook dinner.

That is all there is to it.

Connie likes butane as a fuel better than propane. It has more heat energy volume for volume, catches flame quicker and allows for some fine tuning on the heat levels on the stove, a difficult task on a propane stove.

The connection system used by BP and Repsol is simple and fast. Just click and remove or click and insert the regulator on the tank. Because propane is stored at higher pressures it is likely this simple connection system cannot be used back home. Too bad.

Butane cannot be used in Canada because it will not flow very well as temperatures descend to zero degrees Celsius. It just won't work much below that.

What Happens When I get to a Country that Won't Exchange My Repsol Bottle?

I will buy the local exchange bottle and a regulator and change the hose over.

Likely the next country will use the same regulator and if not likely the regulator will be free with your new bottle purchase. Just remove the hose from the old regulator and put it on the new one.

Many southern European countries have adopted the Italian butane gas connection system while the UK and Netherlands use the "Dutch Standard". If we get to Netherlands as we hope to then we will be faced with buying a new regulator as well as a gas bottle.

A Trident adapter to allow me to fill my propane tank with butane costs on the order of $135 at discount. Paying only €30 for a new refillable butane bottle I can buy four new exchange bottles for the price of one Trident adapter fitting designed to let me use my old propane tank. And the exchange bottles are just so easy to replace when fuel runs low.

Why Not Camping Gaz?

Camping Gaz is a French company that provided one of the first standard butane distributions in a fractured European system. Most often used by motor homes (or caravans in the UK) camping gaz is available all over Europe. It has the advantage of being available in a single format across most of Europe. However:

1. The containers are dear. A 2.7 kg gas bottle cost €47 in Portimao.

2. The regulators are sold separately but the local MaxMat building supply store, the only Camping Gaz distributor on a bus route, did not have any in stock and in typical Portuguese tradition could have cared less. Not even an offer to order one was proferred just a perfunctory "we have none right now".

3. Being for motorized caravans the larger gas containers are available on motor routes usually miles out of town.

4. As expensive as they were the Camping Gaz containers were cheap painted steel, easily damaged and open to corrosion in a sailing environment. If your container is damaged or rusty it will not be accepted for exchange and you must buy another.

Why Not Autogas?

Autogas is an intriguing possibility for the future. Increasingly in Europe gas stations are installing self serve LPG filling stations for gas powered vehicles. One or more companies in the UK are selling refillable portable containers that can be filled at autogas stations.

However:

I have only found autogas containers in the UK which means shipping which means delay. It also means you have to order all the stuff you need at one go, like regulators and filling fittings and so on.

The local Repsol station told me you have to go out of town to find a Repsol station with an autogas filling station.

So:

In a few years Autogas looks like a winner. Just not yet at least for boaters.

Our Dinghy Has Set Us Free

2011-09-10T08:20:00.000-04:00

2011 09 10

Ferragudo, Portugal

Here we sit at anchor in Ferragudo. Five days ago we left the marina at Portimao just across the river four or five days ago determined to make east to Seville. It hasn't happened. Cruisers' disease has set in and we are enjoying being at anchor so much we are just going to stay here a bit and continue to enjoy.

Life at anchor is radically different from life tied up at a marina and we are in no hurry to return to the marina life. Since dropping our hook we have been to town only once and that was really just an excuse to fine tune the new dinghy with our old outboard.

The dinghy flies. Europeans are inclined to small dinghies, little more than waterwings actually and even smaller outboards. Being typical North American motorheads we (I, the BC let me) got for the biggest outboard we could carry. We (I) like big outboards and fast dinghies.

Our new YAM(aha) softbottom inflatable which ended up costing about $1,400 CDN after the horrific 23% VAT was paid is a joy. It absolutely flies down the river with our trusty 9.8 Tohatsu driving it at half power once it is up on plane. We have never travelled so fast in any marine carriage owned by us.

Gasoline today was €1.69 a litre make it $2.50 Canadian a litre or $9.50 a US gallon depending on how good a deal you get on exchange. $50 for a 5 US gallon can of gas. Nightmarish.

Having a more powerful outboard we can get up on plane. This not only increases speed but reduces fuel use and I think we actually use less fuel point to point than the slow puttering waterploughs we see making for town from neighbouring boats.

Of course going fast is so much fun and having a dinghy is still so novel that we burn a lot of fuel taking unnecessary trips to anywhere we can think to go.

If buying a dinghy in Europe you need to know that despite the profusion of brands most dinghies are fabricated by two companies: Zodiac at the high end and Plastimo at the Chevy end. We are chevy drivers. Although our dinghy is labelled YAM(aha) it was made by Plastimo and the only distinction between the 3.1 metre YAM and the 3.1 metre Plastimo is that our dinghy has a piece of blue fabric on the nose and the Plastimo has gray. Every other detail, piece of hardware, oarlock, D ring is identical.

So just buy the cheapest dinghy in your length. It is no different from the dearer dinghy with the nicer label.

But bring your outboard from home and get used to arriving first.

You Want to Watch that Racial Profiling

2011-09-09T07:28:00.001-04:00

2011 09 09

Ferragudo, Portugal

KRUPS, KRUPS? You Gotta be Kidding

I fear I suffer a bit of anti European sentiment.

Couple of days ago at the local appliance store I noticed that most of the stuff on the shelves was made by KRUPS. It stopped me cold in my tracks.

KRUPS was a big german munitions company, ie they made bombs, bullets and guns used to kill Canadian soldiers in WWII. And now the people those Canadians died to help were buying consumer crap from the company that killed their liberators? Man was I pissed.

Luckily I have learned to wait on these things. Confirmation is needed before nuclear attack can be invoked. Investigating I found, pending further investigation, that the bombs and bullets company was KRUPP not KRUPS. So never mind.

But I was a bit too ready to believe the worst.

Any Port in a Storm

If you visit Lisbon we recommend you find the Institute of Port where you can sit in beautiful old leather chairs and select your favourite tipple from a port cart. Prices are unbelievably low and you can likely buy a port put down in the year you were born. That must have been a good year right?

Here are a couple of selections from a local liquor store - that 1924 vintage at 1400 euros a bottle will never touch my lips.

But the 1927 is a real bargain at only 1,325 Euros

Alternating Currents - Alternator Woes

2011-09-08T15:45:00.000-04:00

2011 09 08
Ferragudo, Portugal (across the river from Portimao)

View At Anchorage in Ferragudo on the River Arcade
(across from Portimao)

We made about 300 meters distance made good yesterday. Our dinghy arrived on time (if 12 days on a 10 day promise can be considered on time. Our broker very strongly suggests that he delivered on his promise "ahead of schedule - Portuguese time". Clearly he had no intention of delivering the dinghy in 10 days or even 12 had it not been for the eruption of Mount Curmudgeon. It only took 7 days to make heaven and earth - six if you don't count the day off at the end. Proof that God was not Portuguese.

Dinghy on board we departed the marina in Portimao intending on dropping hook in the convenient nearby anchorage in the River Arcade to prep for departure today on our way to Sevilla, Espanha. Immediately we noticed the alternator was not alternating. NO electrons were being generated. No power created to feed our voracious batteries.

No one expects their alternator to fail. Like the Spanish Inquisition surprise is trouble's first weapon. That and a near fanatical devotion to the pope I suppose but that is less relevant here.(m. python rules)

Along with all the other important devices on our boats the alternator is much abused, much neglected and generally ignored. Until of course it up and quits.

Without an alternator you will be forced to sail, not motor, and to hand steer. Your battery bank cannot support you and your insatiable appetite for electrical energy for more than a day or two usually much much less.

Your fridge is drawing 3 amps average and without that your beer will get warm. When you run it the diesel eats from 2 to 5 amps powering the fuel pump and the instrument panel and such. Your autopilot is good for at least 5 amps and a lot more if conditions are rough.

So there you are: sailing not motoring, hand steering with only warm beer. Sounds like a Corsican slave galley. No thank you. You gotta get that thing working.

Here are some things you can try that should breath some life back into the poor dear thing. Unless you have totally fried the alternator, a very unlikely event, one of these procedures should get you on your way.

The Big Three

THe natural response of all of us faced with the overwhelming depression of a failed alternator is to throw open the engine compartment and stare blankly at the engine. Just what compels us to join in this act of bovine placidity I cannot answer. It never works and no broken part has ever started to work after a good hard look at it has been effected. Not on my boat anyway. But I keep trying.

In seventy five percent of the cases of alternator failure one of these three procedures will get you on your way:

1. Take off all the connections from the alternator to the battery. Everything. Every peid of wire even the ground wire. Clean the ends of the wire thoroughly and then clean the contact points on the alternator to which these wires connect.

2. If your alternator is externally regulated , and I assume for this blog that your alternator is externally regulated, remove the harness connecting the alternator to the regulator and clean all the contacts - including any stray wires that do not look important. There will be at least one sense wire from the regulator to a switched negative post. Check and clean both connections on this sense wire.

3. Check your fanbelt to make sure you have good tension and then check the fanbelt surface where it contacts the pulleys to make sure the belt has not glazed over. Glazing can make the belt slippery. When it comes to fan belts slippery is useless.

With only a small amount of work and just a bit of luck you should now be on your way.

IF NOT

First Try THis - but only if you have an externally regulated P type alternator.

1. With the engine off place a steel screwdriver blade or steel wrench near the nut on the pulley of the alternator. There should be no evidence of magnetism, ie. there should be no pull on the wrench or screwdriver trying to pull it towards the pulley nut.

2. Start the diesel. Wait about five minutes. Now CAREFULLY place the screwdriver blade or wrench near the pulley nut on the alternator. YOu should find a strong magnetic force pulling the blade or wrench towards the pulley nut.

THis is a bit dangerous cause the diesel is on and you are close to moving parts that can maul you quite seriously and even kill you. For the sake of my lawyer I must now tell you not to do what I have just suggested. It is dangerous and no one, even a professional mechanic working in a protected environment wearing half inch kevlar protective clothing would never try to do what I have just suggested. It was a joke and I did not mean it.

If you are squeamish about losing an arm or watching your entire alimentary tract wind itself up on the crankshaft of your diesel remember that you do not have to start the diesel. You can be safe.

Just turn the key to "run", wait five minutes and then test with the wrench or screwdriver blade. However - that annoying oil pressure beeper will be sounding non stop and if you have an oil pressure cutout switch on the diesel you will have to short circuit it.

Entirely up to you what you do but if your arm gets ripped off don't blame me. I'm broke anyway. (You wait the five minutes because most external regulators have a delay programmed into them and they do not start up right away to give your diesel a chance to get up to speed before they load the engine with the alternator.

3. If there is a strong magnetic field at the pulley nut on the alternator but the alternator is not producing any current then I am sorry. You are screwed. You are going to have to take the alternator off the boat and have it rebuilt. On the bright side you will not have to waste any more time working on the darn thing and you can devote the rest of your afternoon to drinking the beer before it gets too warm.

IF YOU PASS THIS TEST, IE THERE IS NO MAGNETIC FIELD THEN TRY THIS:

1. Turn the engine off and remove the key. Disconnect the wires running from the regulator to the the alternator. Usually this means pulling off a harness or plug. The wiring from the alternator to the regulator will likely have wires in the following colours: black, red, white, brown, blue. We are only concerned with the blue wire and red wire. THe blue wire may not be blue. Blue is usually the colour used for the "field" wire; it carries current from the regulator to the rotor on your alternator. If you do not have a blue wire read the manual for the regulator and find out what colour France or England or Germany use for their field wires.

2. Using a small piece of wire connect the blue (field) wire to the red wire.

3. Check for magnetism at the pulley nut on the alternator.

If there is magnetism on the pulley nut it looks like your alternator is ok, at least the rotor and brushes and the regulator harness is ok, ie. there are no shorts in the wiring harness. This means that probably your regulator is the problem. Hook up your spare regulator and you should be on your way.

If you do not have a spare regulator then shame on you. You deserve to be stressed out because you are woefully unprepared. All is not lost however and you can make a regulator out of parts normally found on most boats. Read Nigel Calder's book on Electrical and Mechanical Maintenance for directions.

Simply wire together a n series a bunch of light fixtures or whatever you have that use power until you have a circuit with enough "power consumers" to use 5 amps of current. (a ten watt lightbulb uses about 1 amp so five of these wired in series would be good). Then wire one end of the circuit you have made to the positive post and the other end to the blue (field) wire. You might want to wire in a switch as well to turn the string of lights on and off. Start the diesel and when it is running smoothly go below and turn on the string of lights. This will run enough current through the rotor of the alternator to produce about 13 volts to 13.5 volts, enough to charge at an elementary level. Use to your voltmeter and verify that the alternator is putting out no more than 13.8 to 14 volts.

4. If there is no magnetism at the pulley nut get out your voltmeter and check for voltage on the blue (field) wire.

If there is no voltage then likely the problem is a short in the wiring harness. You can track that down with your voltmeter and clean or cut out the bad wiring or connection and rewire.

If there is voltage at the blue (field) wire and there is magnetism at the pulley nut once again you are screwed and are going to take that alternator into the shop for a rebuild.

No matter what result you obtain when you are done you have earned the right to a beer. Hope it's cold.

Thoughts on Alternator Maintenance and Preparedness

1. Carry a spare regulator. They are inexpensive.

2. If you are cruising carry a spare alternator.

3. Clean your alternator regularly. Use your wife's vaccuum cleaner to suck out bits of crud from the alternator (tell her it is just dust).

4. Check belt tension on the fanbelt often, like every time you start the diesel.

5. Every two years remove your alternator and take it to a good starter shop for a rebuild. They will clean and lube it, change out the bearings, replace the brushes and check all the other parts, like the diodes. Cost is usually about $150 in Canada. Use your spare alternator while the rebuild is being done.

While you are at it you might take in the starting motor too. It needs attention as much as the alternator. While you are in there you might as well change the air filter and pull the bilge pump to clean the vanes and the pump switch, tighten the stuffing box, check the tranny fluid, remove the heat exchanger and flush the seaweed and mud out of it, remove and scope the exhaust, lube the through hulls and verify smooth handle action and check all the other electrical connections.

I mean you are in there anyway.

D Day for Meredith

2011-09-07T05:16:00.000-04:00

2011 09 07

Dinghy arrives today.

If not we leave the dock today anyway. One day at anchor in Portimao and then we are off to the island of Culahtra or somewhere around there.

It is nice to be active again. Next major stop is Seville but we hope to spend some time on the Guardiana river which separates Spain and Portugal and is a very scenic cruise.

Cleanup In Aisle Four - Practical Bilingualism

2011-09-07T05:13:00.001-04:00

2011 09 07
Last day in Portimao

My assigned task yesterday, in fact my only task for the whole day other than blogging, was to locate a bag of the small square melba toasts we so adore on Meredith. These things are incredible - highly stressed packages of arid little toast crumbs that, when bitten, explode into a billion points of water absorbing brilliance. They suck your mouth dry in a split second. Cool. They also go well with the local young cheese.

Luck was not with me that day and I had traversed the endless aisles of the Jumbo grocery store finding nothing that resembled a melba toast.

Finally I was reduced to asking for directions from staff. Staff are rare things in a Portuguese store and a cause for celebration when one is present. Obviously my luck was changing for there immediately before me was a person adorned with the tiny jacket worn by all Jumbo staff.

She was mopping up a red mess in Aisle Four - Salty Snacks. Actually she was more attacking the mess than mopping it and her mop handle was nearly a blur it was moving so fast.

Hesitantly I interrupted the work flow. A quick tap on the shoulder accompanied with a gentle "excuse me...". This woman came equipped with air brakes. She stopped so fast she gave off a compression wave as atmosphere bounced off her instantly stationary frame.

She looked at me hesitantly. I proceeded. "Tiny toasts?" I muttered hopefully.

I knew I had blown it as a cloud crossed my unwilling guide's umarked brow. Quizzical she just looked at me. It came to me in a flash. "tiny tostas" I said more hopefully.

A lightbulb clicked into brilliance. Her visage cleared and she visibly gained in stature.

"YES" she almost shouted. "GO ONE" and she pointed down the row to the next aisle with her right arm. Then her right hand shot out at ninety degrees and she motioned me to proceed to the right. "THEN GO LEFT".

I thanked her profusely and followed her instructions right to the tostas.

And somedays life is just that cute.

European Cruising Resources

2011-09-06T10:54:00.000-04:00

2011 09 06
Aqua Mall Portimao Portugal

The battery is almost dead so there will not be much more of this.

If you wish to cruise Europe there are some quick guides you should know about.

Best Travel Blog: http://www.seayara.net/wordpress/

Second Best: http://www.roamsail.co.uk/

Best Internet Information Site: http://www.cruiserswiki.org

Best Paper Guides: The Cruising Almanac and the Mediterranean Cruising Almanac both by Imray Iolaire. Dear but worth it. Do not be tricked into buying the Mediterranean Cruising Handbook or the Mediterranean Cruising Guide also by Imray but totally useless. (thanks to Branco and Maggie on H2OBO for this)

Portuguese Business Practices and Dead Donkies

2011-09-06T10:06:00.000-04:00

2011 09 06
Portimao, Portugal

"You deceitful little slug". Thus began my rebuttal to the greasy little Hanse dealer in the Portimao marina office. He had just tried to blame onto me for his failure to deliver our new dinghy on schedule. This did not play well.

"Listen up. I could have tied that dinghy to a donkey in Northern Scotland, pushed the donkey off a cliff and its dead carcass, with my dinghy attached would have washed up on the Portimao beach by now. You clowns can't move a dinghy from Lisbon to Portimao in ten days. Hell I was in Lisbon on Saturday and could have picked the damn thing up myself. Jackass".

This was a rare departure from the polite and compassionate man that usually resides in my skin.

I guess I was being an ugly Canadian but gosh I hate being lied to. It's not so much the lie as the assumption I am so rock hard stupid or cowardly that I will accept the lie.

The dealer drew himself up and informed me that he did not have to be treated like a dog. My reply that if he was a dog I would kick him did not seem to calm the waters. A lot more was said including a full discussion of contractual responsibilities on both sides and we ended up with him promising delivery in two days.

Betting on the dock is even odds we will not have a dinghy aboard Meredith before Canadian Thanksgiving.

Still I feel remarkably good about being guilty of such inconsiderate behaviour.

Cruising Along At Sixty

2011-09-06T09:28:00.013-04:00

2011 09 06

Agua Mall, Portimao, Portugal

Meredith moored beside Paloma de la Paz
The Only Two Cabo Ricos in Europe and we are Side by Side

Sitting in the Aqua Mall in Portimao in front of the McDonalds, Big Mac in hand, we have finally found some internet. Internet is a precious commodity in Portugal; few marinas offer it and those that do most often fail to deliver or deliver such unreliable service it is unusable. This is one reason I post few pictures - no bandwidth. Portimao marina has 650 slips and no wifi. It offers two hard wired connections to serve 650 boats. The municipal library has no wifi and very limited internet on its own computers. No one in Portugal seems to use internet.

This is not a travelblog. The only good travel blog I have come across is written by Poll and Kyra Vanderwouwe and I recommend it without hesitation. Here is the URL http://www.seayara.net/wordpress/.

Use Google Chrome however as the site is well written in Dutch and Chrome will automatically translate for you.

With that exception travelblogs give me gas: insipid comments about mediocre destinations desperately dropping names of "friends" met and made along the way. Intended to prove what I always wonder: that you took your boat somewhere or that you actually found someone who liked you. Sad and pathetic. Not to be found here. We do sad and pathetic our own way.

In our sixteen days in Portimao we spent the first week recovering from the rough passage and repairing and replacing stuff lost or damaged. Much of the real repair will have to wait for our return to North America - we can order parts from a French manufacturer through a North American supplier and get them faster and cheaper than from France. (Yup, Europe is totally screwed economically.)

Lisbon Spreads Out Beneath One of Its Fabulous Parks

Portimao was not our choice for port, we hoped to make Lisbon and spend some time in that capital city. Perhaps our fortune was greater than we knew for Portimao is a great centre from which we can travel inexpensively almost everywhere in this country, eg. €35 return from Portimao to Lisbon a trip of 300 km each way.

LIsbon's Restauradore Section

Our visit to Lisbon last week by bus showed that city to be a largish city in a smallish country. Except for the age of its buildings and its interesting Restauradore Area Lisbon is nice but not worth a week or two of exploration.

At that we travelled "off restauradore" in search of an authentic Portuguese restaurant. None of the patio tables had a single Portuguese face to be found. The search was very successful and we understood not a single word spoken at any surrounding table that day. Lovely, tasty and inexpensive.

Lisbon resembled Toronto very much. Toronto is worth a weekend at most. I mean its claim to fame is that it is "clean". Imagine the advertising possibilities "Visit Us. We're Clean".

Lisbon has old buildings, clean streets and a few galleries and museums (including a fair one floor Museum of Modern Art and a great gallery of French Impressionists) but I mean this is Europe. In Europe good old stuff is everywhere. Lisbon is no Bilbao and we are slotting many days for a visit there by bus or train.

Lisbon is all about parks and it does this in spades. Its subway is clean, safe and easy to navigate. It would be a great place to live and was a decent city to visit. Briefly.

Another side trip was made (with our very good friends, oh to hell with it) to Lagos (pronounced Lagosh) reputed to be a fab marina and old fishing village. The old village streets were filled with thousands (thousands and thousands and thousands) of tourists. Except for the bricks in the building facades there was no old world charm in evidence here. Our meal was lacklustre and overpriced and all the cafe tables were filled with foreigners.

Soon, as soon as our dinghy arrives, we leave for Faro hoping to anchor off some islands around Culathra, a nice park reserve. We will travel up the Guardiana River, border between Spain and Portugal as we understand (from our very good friends....) and finally we go up the river to Seville where we hope to engage in a week or two of fruitful investigation.

Along the way we hope to make many more new friends. All of whom shall remain nameless.

Things You Learn on the Bus

2011-09-06T08:35:00.000-04:00

2011 09 06
Portimao, Portugal

Backup Bus Drivers in Portimao - Little Better than Thugs

Riding the No. 4 bus to the Retail Park here in Portimao the BC and I are destined for the Continente store a chain grocery store offering free delivery.

As our stop approaches we moved towards the rear exit of the tiny bus. An older woman maybe 75, give or take 5 years, grabbed my arm as walk unsteadily past on the still moving bus. "Continente" she exclaimed loudly as she windmilled her arms in broad sweeps past my face. I could see gobbets of loose aging flesh on her underarms slap forward and backward with each swoosh setting off little echo waves all along what used to be biceps. She was pretty old.

Thinking the heat had perhaps gotten to the poor creature we stepped gently back and considered the need to restrain her. The woman addressed us firmly in Portuguese. This did not help but clarified that she was not a crazy: she was conveying some information she felt to be quite important.

Realizing there was a miscue in process four or five neighbouring bus riders joined in her attempt to communicate with us the group inflicting mass delivery of staccato Portuguese and pantomime that would have been hilarious if we had not been intimately involved.

One man stepped up and put his hands on my chest. He gave me the finger - not the middle finger but his index digit and motioned down the road. Puzzle solved. If we wanted the Continente store it was best if we waited one more stop.

I know it should have been a whole lot easier to figure out but you had to be there - the cheese in the middle of a troupe of jabbering gesticulating strangers. In the end we all had a good laugh and parted with smiles and waves all around. By waiting one more stop we were saved a half mile walk in the unrelenting Algarve sun. Thanks old lady.

That day was one of our favourites in Portimao and endeared this uninspired beach town to us in ways we never expected.

We take this from the incident:

the Portuguese people are among the friendliest and most helpful we have encountered;
Portuguese methods are direct, even blunt, with no time wasted on niceties;
we are very obviously not belongers in this society and are easily identified as being from "away". This is not a barrier to people offering hope. We have a huge appreciation for the inherent decency and goodwill of the Portuguese.

Sadly this is not the whole Portuguese story.

Here is what we have learned riding the Portimao bus system:

Portugal we deduce is in a whole heap of trouble. Official thuggery, a form of bureaucratic tyranny developed during the Salazar dictorship has lingered in this poor country. Think of Hitler's brown shirted Youth Brigade and you have the template for tyranny. Stupid, under educated people are given authority to brutalize the population without consequence. They owe their undeserved status to the grand leader whom they follow without question, often because they are too stupid to form a question. Montesquieu explains the process very well or if you like a less rigourous but equally accurate and more enjoyable analysis you can read just about any Stephen King novel.

Our experience on the bus suggests that Portugal has not recovered from its days of dictatorship and is not likely to in the near future:

The municipality pays 2 drivers for each bus. While one driver drives a route his buddy sits in front of the local grocery store drinking coffee and harrassing people entering the store. The store we are sure does not want these thugs cluttering their entrance but there they are every day all day. We patronize the store and the crowd of drivers is a pain in the butt.

No bus has ever stopped where the people are standing. No matter if the people are in front of the bus stop sign or placed ten feet fore or aft. The driver drives past all people by at least a bus length - every damn time.

Drivers on the bus system are extremely unpleasant. Most will not answer questions on whether theirs is the "de Vau" bus that goes to the marina or the other "de Vau" bus. Yes there are two buses with the same name going to different destinations:the No 2 bus does not go to the marina but the No 2n bus does. There is no "n" designated anywhere on the bus anywhere to inform passengers this is the marina bus.

We were on a bus that sat at a stop while a young mother burdened with groceries, child in arms ran hard to catch the bus that was obviously waiting for her. As the mother came up on the rear of the bus, face red and sweat drenched the bus driver closed the door almost in her face and drove off.

I get that people miss a bus. This guy was waiting for the woman, leading her on to run only at the very last second pulling away from her. It was cruel and intended to be. It was the act of a brute who had no concern for consequence. He knew no one would complain and if they did no action would be taken. Had someone complained I imagine that person, not the recalcitrant driver, would have suffered consequences.

The last bus we took ran on a 25 minute cycle. This was of no consequence to the bus driver who, in spite of having a second driver to take over for him (meaning his work day was only 4 hours long) made an unauthorized turn, drove a mile down a deserted road, stopped the bus and got out for a smoke and a rest under a tree. Not a word was spoken to anyone on the bus and no one raised their voice in complaint.

This is what we have learned riding the buses of Portimao.

"In the infancy of societies, the chiefs of state shape its institutions; later the institutions shape the chiefs of state."
Charles de Montesquieu

Soylent Green is People

2011-09-06T07:41:00.000-04:00

2011 09 06
Portimao, Portugal

Peter's Cafe Sport - but in Lisbon!!!

If our dinghy ever shows up we will leave this two donkey town but for now we are rested, travelled and ready to go.

Arriving at Horta every sailor knows he must immediately attend at Peter's Sports Cafe and pay homage. Peter's is a decades old tradition in the sailing community. During the hurricane that wiped out Horta, back when Peter was still alive and running things, this restaurant reopened to serve sailors whose boats were destroyed warm food and cold drink. Peter earned a significant place in the hearts of the sailing community for his generosity and compassion.

Peter has died and his son taken over the restaurant. Sailors being people of tradition carry on the tradition of honouring Peter's actions on our behalf by stopping at the Cafe Sport as often as possible when in Horta.

Being somewhat contrarian it was our experience on attending at Peter's on our first night in Horta that the ambience was that of a junkyard office, the service was atrocious, the food overpriced and badly cooked. There was little to recommend it in our view. We kept this view to ourselves.

A few weeks later we found ourselves in Angra da Heroismo on the island of Terceira. A few days in the marina found us exploring extensively on foot. We came upon a North American style mall. A mall full of North American style stores, a Best Buy quality electronics store, two cell phone company booths and a food court with Burger King and Pizza Hut.

Just outside the food court was a kiosk hawking postcards and Tee shirts. It took a minute but the tee shirts were all from Peter's Cafe Sport. This was puzzling for only a second. Looking up from the rack of clothing we saw that the kiosk was an official licensed Peter's Cafe Sport franchise.

A few days ago while walking the Expo 98 riverside development in Lisbon we came upon the Peter's Cafe Sport pictured above. Another licensed Peter's Cafe Sport franchisee.

Peter's as now constituted is just a cynical attempt to milk the reputation of a man who earned our respect. Soylent Green is people.

Cockpit Dreaming

2011-08-28T07:46:00.000-04:00

2011 08 28

Portimao, Portugal

A shaded cockpit protects us as we sit, drinks in hand, watching weekend traffic at the marina. The BC is in vinho heaven with prices even on the continent in the $3 a bottle range for her favourite tipple. My beer is poured from a litre bottle of SuperBock into a glass I stole (along with Randy of Babykiller Bee fame) from a bar in Greenwich Village a couple of years ago.

It is warm and we have just returned from the grocery store.

Today we completed arrangements for replacement parts to the boat and now have no gainful employment. Maybe tomorrow I will work on the boat.

Dinner is in two hours with Dennis and Cheryl aboard the only other Cabo Rico 38 in Europe, it moored by purest chance only two slips away from us here at the marina. Not a big fan of coincidence or other quasi religious experience I wonder at this.

Here and now we have time to spend on such weighty problems.

Aaaaaaahhhhh.

Tread Softly

2011-08-26T09:35:00.000-04:00

2011 08 26

Portimao, Portugal

When all is said and done it was just discomfort and inconvenience but you know the crossing from Ponta delGada to Lisbon was a bitch.

In fact we never got to Lisbon which is almost 90 degrees due east of Ponta delGada. We were blown offcourse by an unforecast storm and ended up 275 miles south having to sail 75 miles north just to get back to Portugal.

I am not going to regale you with details because I have a faulty recollection of what the heck happened. The last windspeed I saw was 42 knots apparent and we were running hard before the wind. That reading unnerved me and I stopped looking because I needed all the nerve I could find for more important tasks. The Budget Committee never asked. For the same reason I presume.

We made it a Force 8 storm verging on Force 9. Waves were huge but that is a subjective assessment; I did not measure. White spume blew horizontally from their tops but the tops never rolled over. They were sure burbling and bubbling. For an entire night we watched, Meredith poised on the very edge of control, for that final sign that the waves were starting to break. It was a close call and many waves found their way onto our deck anyway.

Here was the scoreboard after 8 days of heavy weather sailing:

We broke our staysail boom in two places. Stress from wind and wave tore the sheet attachment point loose and before I got to the foredeck to wrestle the errant boom to the deck it had broken under heavy pressure at the gooseneck.
We lost our dinghy. Lashed to the deck fore, aft and centre it tore loose and flew into the ocean. We did not notice, either of us, until we were tied up at dock for almost a day.
At one point running with bare poles we were making 6.5 knots.
We did not change clothes for eight days. I know!!! Not one article of clothing was changed and we lived in foul weather gear (foul has a whole new definition on Meredith these days) and rubber boots.
we slept on the salon floor for eight days. Lee cloths allowed too much movement and so did the quarterberth. The floor was perfect.
The BC had to pump the head while she peed. In the dramatic boat motion even the briefest of spurts was enough liquid to wash up the side of the toilet bowl and splash her.
Food consumed in the first four days: 3 sleeves of soda crackers and a package of melba toast. Total.

The low point came with a wave that washed over the entire boat just after I went forward to secure the staysail boom and sail. Some wave from somewhere struck from bow to stern. The BC was on the wheel and was totally consumed by the great green greasy Atlantic. She lost sight of everything but, out of the corner of her eye, caught a flash of red roar by the helming station outboard of the lifelines and destined for oblivion.

My offshore jacket is red.

What she did not know and what took several impossibly difficult seconds to come clear was that the fuel canister for the outboard engine, tied with quarter inch line to the deck, had ripped apart and let go. It was the gas canister she saw. I was still on deck.

On the whole it was quite the experience. We had read the books: Cunliffe, Pardy, Motissiere and while you cannot learn heavy weather sailing on the internet we would have been lost without the guidance of these smarter better sailors.

We can buy new equipment. The dinghy arrives in a week or so. Staysail boom parts are available in the USA and we will bring those back with us after Christmas. That is all that happened.

A bit of expense and a bit of inconvenience. Spent in purchase of invaluable experience.

We hove to when it was needed and ran when we could. So long as waves were not near breaking we ran hoping to get out of whatever had taken us under its control.

Nice try Poseidon.

HAD I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet,
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams

W.B. Yeats

Leaving the Land That Breakfast Forgot

2011-08-26T08:44:00.001-04:00

2011 08 14

Ponta delGada, Sao Miguel, Azores, Portugal

As a Destination the Azores are Hot, HOt, HOT

Heated Saltwater Pool at Ferraria

Friday and Saturday we toured the island with Lillia and Jeff. The first day saw us swimming in ocean pools fed by ocean swells and protected by huge laval outcroppings. Hot springs heated the 18 degree ocean to a Budget Committee approved 24 degrees Celsius. As the tide departed taking with it considerable volumes of cold oceanic water the termperature rose until the BC was blissful indeed, steaming with the clams in 28 degree ocean.

Each Little Hill Covers Someone's Lunch Cooking

Tea Anyone? Water's Ready

Saturday found us dining in Furnas, the entire town built in a centuries old caldeira, the air around us a bit sulferous and very warm and moist in both cases the result of volcanic flows just metres (and in some cases much less) below our feet. Our lunch, a Hungarian platter of beef, pork, chicken, sausage, cabbage, and potato was cooked by burying the constituent roasts and carcasses three feet in the ground near a hole bubbling with live steam and boiling water.

Finishing off with a tour of the only tea plantation in Europe we called it a good two days and prepared to leave.

We are unabashed in our praise of the Azores and we are grateful indeed to Scott and Kitty on Tamare for their strong recommendation that we spend some time here. Thanks too to Stanley Feigenbaum at Beta Marine for his recommendations on prospective stops and to Paul and Mo on Ti Gitu for advice general on clearing into Flores.

If you do the crossing stop first at Flores and begin a leisurely investigation of some of the finest cruising you are likely to do in Europe.

The Caldeira Lakes at Lagoas do Fogo, aptly named

Monday we leave for the continent.

It is eat what you kill at Furnas.
Curmudgeon digs for his (hot) lunch while the BC drives the shovel from the rear seat

Graciosan Swine and French Sailors - Laugh or Cry II

2011-08-11T07:56:00.002-04:00

2011 08 04

Angra, Terceira, Azores
(were going to leave today but the neighbours asked us to dinner.)

Waking after our first night of frequently interrupted sleep on the island of Ingraciosa we were dismayed to find the pigship Espirito Santos moored off our stern. The prow of their boat actually extended over our stern and came very close to touching our backstay. The pigship, a stinking livestock transporter which had brought pigs and goats to the island had no need to be so close - the wall was 800 metres long and the ship only 50. Its captain, obviously taking umbrage at our use of "his" wall, had the crew hose down its deck and the muck it was washing off itself was spraying in large quantities on the deck of our poor Meredith.

A French yacht tied up a boat length and a half ahead of us the night before had moved overnight and now its stern davits were only a foot and a half off our pulpit. It seemed to have deliberately moved to block any attempt by us to move away from the heady nose of Espiritos.

We were pinned.

All of this came before my morning coffee and after a night of aural and olfactory blitzkreig by the pigship docking darkened my mood: it was as black as the muck raining down on our decks.

Nowhere could be found a french yachtsman with which to discuss the situation. Probably for the best.

Aboard Meredith when things take a turn, as they so often do, we look always to the Benner family motto:"Run away". Only ten minutes were wasted untying our two lines and casting off. Out to sea with us it was and on to Angra do Heroismo on the neighbouring island of Terceira only forty nautical miles to the east.

In the process we lost the flag and flagpole which caught on a line from the french yacht (they had seven lines to our two) and was torn from the pushpit. Manoeuvering was tight.

As we motored out the harbour and set the genoa in the following breeze it began to rain. Perfect. The Budget Committee made coffee and we sailed happily away from the Isle of Inhospitality.

An hour out to sea there appeared a sail off our stern, a big white sail which belonged, I knew without aid of binoculars, to the same french boat which proved so helpful on the wall.

One ocean empty save for two sailboats. Only one outcome is possible: Race.

And this was a grudgematch.

Now I say this as if the crew were of one mind. The Budget Committee was just happy to be away from the filth and stench of Espiritos Santos. She relaxed with her Kindle while I fell with relish to the tasks of trimming sail and adjusting course. Honestly the BC is rarely much use in a race: she just doesn't get it. Those double XX chromosome things cloud her thinking.

Early on I lay my sextant on its side and measured the angle made between the top of the french mast and the horizon. If this angle grew then the frenchmen were gaining on us, if the angle shrank then Meredith was treating them to what they deserved.

Five minutes later I put the sextant away. No further sextant work was required. Every trick and bit of sailing lore in my quiver had been pulled out and set to the bowstring but my aim was off. All that effort to no avail. That French boat was smoking us like the Hayter family smokes their turkeys.

Hayters is a family farm just outside our former home of Lucan, Ontario. For thirty years this farm has provided us with all of our fresh turkey for Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners.

Like me their turkeys cannot sail.

It was embarrassing. As the french sail grew inexorably on the horizon my mood turned further to the dark side. The other boat drew abeam, crew laughing and waving to us, the devious buggers. Finally it delivered the final insult and crossed our bow.

About this time the BC noted that I seemed "sort of quiet". Was there something bothering me she wondered. One of those enigmatic smiles grew on her face; you know the kind that lets you know your wife thinks you are acting like a teenager and could use a good dose of maturity.

About then it occurred to me that throwing unnecessary weight from the boat would help our speed on the ground. It was a fleeting and uncharitable thought but if I could have managed another half knot...

In the end the despicable french having left and hour and a half after us arrived at Angra nearly an hour before we did. As we pulled into the marina dock to clear in I prepared a gracious congratulations to those who had bested us on the water.

As we approached the marina/fuel dock four guys lept from the cockpit of the french boat to grab our lines and help tie up. The french captain entered the office with me. Once cleared in and returning to the dock I spoke briefly with the captain about our shared night of horror in Graciosa and found out that in addition to our mutual grievances his boat was new and he was terrified that it, a Bavaria 50 I noted from the side, was going to be pulled under the concrete wall and destroyed.

It took a minute.

A Bavaria 50. That meant these guys had almost 20 feet of waterline more than Meredith. And that meant that Meredith had not been smoked at all. We were just fighting way over our weight.

And that meant these guys were ok.

As we moved Meredith off the fuel dock to her slip one of the French crew yelled an invitation to come for drinks when we were straightened away. The invitation was taken up immediately.

Drinks ran to 6 hours in which a cockpit of french, english and german sailors, none of particularly bilingual, finished several litres of wine and two litres of Ricard as we shared horror stories about Graciosa.

The pig boat and the car ferry were great sources of mirth to both of our boats and the "wall" at Graciosa was common enemy. They, like us, had arrived at Graciosa that same day only to find no marina, no anchorage and obviously not much of a wall.

If memory serves we learned some interesting insults to the pigship Espirito Santos, each insult carrying several corollories and each of those toasted several times. Truth be told my memory is not that clear.

Our affair ended with the exchange by us of the Canadian flag flown on Meredith across the Atlantic along with some maple syrup and by them of a unique empty container for Ricard and a bottle of what we were assured after great argument by the French, was the best Champagne. Over our three days in Angra we met and remet our French friends always to good effect.

Damn fine fellows those French. Nice guys.

Pigs in a Poke - Laugh or Cry 1

2011-08-02T07:10:00.004-04:00

2011 08 02

Angra Da Heroismo, Terceira, Azores

38 39N 027 13W

Ponta da Barca
From the south you must round this rock at the Point

Some days a bad mood just gets worse.

Night before last Meredith and crew sailed from Horta to Graciosa. Although called the "White Island" by its Portuguese discoverers this is a tiny jewel of an island, emerald in the ring of gems that comprise the Azorean crown.

Cool Trick, Eh?

Graciosa had much to offer: a mile wide caldeira lake, descent into a caldeiran cave with peekhole views of molten bubbling magma just below the surface but and most importantly bucolic placidity.

Graciosa may well offer all of those things but she delivered naught to the crew of Meredith. Nor to the crews of the other two boats arriving at Praia the same day.

There are three stories in the naked island. These are all three.

Meredith:

A day of frustrating sailing in light shifting winds saw Meredith make the anchorage at Praia, Graciosa in late afternoon.

Unaware there was a marina there, a marina whose construction had wiped out the entire public anchorage available for transient cruising boats we made entry, heartened at the unexpected boon of electric and water and a secure mooring. Not so lucky, As with most of the marinas in the Azores, and far too many we hear about in the rest of the Mediterranean we found no room at the inn as every slot was taken with a locally owned boat.

The marinas here were built with loans from an EU development fund intended to boost flagging local economies. As described to us the terms of the loan were that repayment did not have to be made until the project was completed. Guess what? There are unfinished marinas dotting the coasts of most Med countries, none of them being paid for save by the inland taxpayer. You have appreciate the sophistication of a fully developed bureaucracy, non?

So the anchorage was gone, consumed to build a marina for the transients which marina cannot be used by transients because the locals have filled it. The rates at this marina - it is free. Not to be put off by lack of anchorage or marina we scoped out a two thousand foot long commercial wall outside the town. One other sailing yacht was tied to the closest end of that wall and we decided to join her.

Closing the 200 metres from the unusable marina we noted the wall was formidably high. Arriving at the wall we confirmed its height and realized we could not get off our boat on the wall without benefit of a long stepladder. We did not have a long stepladder, or even a short one.

Tieing up would be interesting as there were bollards for this purpose set in the concrete but the bollards were a good six feet overhead a concern as we were at half tide falling, and they were spaced about 35 metres apart.

Ever resourceful we tied, using bowline knots, enormous twenty five foot lassoos in our longest dock lines, lines a good hundred twenty feet each in length and with good luck and some boat hook assist threw our lines over the bollard from down below - first the bow and reversing, the stern. The enormous loops would allow us to untie and slip the docklines next morning and depart without having to climb the eight or ten feet of concrete wall. Getting back on the boat from such a wall was maybe worse than getting on the wall in the first place.

Smugly satisfied with ourselves we waved our compliments to the boat ahead of us and had them returned readily enough.

Customs and Immigration in the person of a handsome young man with a great sense of humour, came to us on the wall as we could not go to him. Delivering our papers up the now seven foot difference in elevation was accomplished by heaving a line to the official, tying it to our canvass bucket and putting passports and clearances in the bucket.

A local citizen happened along and with little hesitation sat with her feet over the wall and engaged us in a delightful chat for half an hour or so, she being a single hander with her own 27 foot boat which she had brought to Graciosa only a year earlier.

The harbour master followed all, apologizing for the lack of space at the marina. He asked us if we would please move our boat forward a half boat length. We did not have to do so right then, tomorrow morning would be fine. He then spoke with the boat ahead.

As the sun completed its descent we supped on bread and cheese with a bottle of my favourite white from Pico - Terres da Lava. It's a pricey wine coming in at $2.50 canadian a litre - in a corked glass bottle.

As we enjoyed our sundowner repast the crew of the boat ahead spent an hour tying and retying lines, moving the boat, untying and retying lines, moving the boat in an endless cycle, each oscillation performed by a different member of the five man crew. Each oscillation also put the boat closer to our bow. Beginning a good boatlength ahead of us by the time we headed below for sleep the boat ahead of us was right on our bow. There was no more room for them to move.

Just as we headed below a third boat came into the "anchorage" at Praia and was forced in the growing dim to drop his hook off the wall just about in rocky shallows.

Gerard on the Boat Ahead of Meredith:

We came into Praia late in the afternoon. Anticipating there would be room at the marina we entered without hesitation. This was a huge mistake. There were no berths but also there was no room to manoeuver. The slipways were very narrow and once in a boat could not turn. We were forced to back out of the slipway and the marina against a 15 knot wind and cross waves.

A local citizen told us to tie up to the commercial wall and we did. It was very difficult as the wall was very high and we had to climb several feet of chain to get off the boat to set our lines.

As the tide went out we became very worried. The wall was actually a concrete floor poured on pillars in the water. When the tide was out two feet the wall ran out and there was a big cave created by the space under the floor and between each pillar. The echo of the waves was very horrible and we became afraid if the tide went out too far we would find our boat washed under the concrete floor and into the caves. My boat was brand new. We were very worried and we had to set many lines to save the boat.

Unknown single handed sailor on the Green Hulled Boat.

It is a long sail from Sao Miguel to Graciosa and I arrived sunbaked and tired. The sail was difficult in wind that never stopped moving so I had to change the sail trim constantly.

There was supposed to be an anchorage in Graciosa but that had obviously been chewed up long ago. Typical of these islanders: take away a good anchorage and never tell anyone about it. Naturally there was no room at the marina the town built over the old anchorage - there never is. The locals fill up there tourist marinas every time. When in England I voted for free trade with Europe but I never agreed to let the bastards make legislation to control me. What happened there.

Meredith:

The first attack came at midnight. Klaxons braying at the moon, lights blazing a false dawn, a huge car carrying ferry pulled into the dock right behind us and offloaded not only cars but a couple hundred drunk islanders. Our deck was sprayed with gravel and detritus thrown off the wall by unthinking and pretty much insensible partiers walking home from the dock. We were just glad no one felt the need to relieve themselves.

Gerard on the Boat Ahead of Us:

Mon Dieu. That ferry rocked our boat up and down like a mad man. It was just past low tide and we were all awake and pushing like madmen ourselves to save my new boat. Bastards. And then the people from the ferry. Laughing at us and mocking us. They treat us like dogs.

Unknown single handed sailor on the Green Hulled Boat:

Typical bloody Portuguese seamanship. A Portuguese captain could not pilot a rowboat without a mishap. They don't have to take any competency exam to be skipper, they just marry the owner's ugly daughter and are given a ship.

A hundred tons and his to command
and he never having left the land.

That ferry came in pushing a bow wave five feet high. It hit my boat like a Tsunami and knocked my anchor right out of the bottom. I was asleep of course and by the time I figured out what was going on I had been washed almost all the way in to the breakwall. Bloody asses. I pulled up my rode and hightailed it out of there.

Better tired and on the seas
than in port with the Portuguese.

Meredith:

The Budget Committee noticed the boat at anchor was dragging and got out the air horn and search light to wake the crew of that boat. Just as she was ready to give a blast on the horn the skipper emerged from the salon and got his diesel going.

An hour or so later peace was restored and the ferry out to sea.

Until 3:00 a.m. That is when the pig boat arrived. Pigs and goats actually. This transport did not wake us with its noise or lights. It was the smell what got us guv'nor.

This transport, name of Spiritos Santos, apparently took umbrage with our being located on "his" wall and pulled so far ahead that his prow was over our cockpit. When we woke in the morning we found a huge shadow blotting the sun from our cockpit resulting from the overhanging prow covering our stern. Our deck was covered in black spots of odiferous and odious muck apparently sprayed onto our deck when they washed the pig manure from the deck of Spiritos Santos.

And that was when the bad mood started.

The day grew worse as I will tell next time.

Things You Notice In HortaMarina

2011-07-29T10:38:00.004-04:00

2011 07 29

Waiting for Wind to Go to Graciosa
Waiting in Horta

Meredith on the Kilroy Covered Wall at Horta,
Pico in the Background

Rain today and no wind so plans to sail to Graciosa are in abeyance till the wind improves. With Euro prices for diesel it pays to stay at the marina and wait for wind.

Meredith amidst the Kilroys Holds Up Canada's End

A couple of things we notice about boats in the marina here in Horta, the mid atlantic gateway to Europe.

First is the absence of American boats. There is one. Two Hundred and some odd vessels here in Horta and one American. We have met twenty or more Canadian boats in our time here.

Second is the heavy duty construction of the boats moored here.

Europeans sailing to the Azores to enjoy a bit of vacation must traverse 1,000 miles of open ocean or more, far more for the Germans. Boats are ruggedly built and use no nonsense design. Totally absent are the the light weight conveniences so prevalent back home: furling mains, power winches, light weight davits. If davits cannot be welded to a steel hull they are not installed and even then the steel boats carry their dinghies on deck not on davits.

Ti Gitu is Junk Rigged, junk decked and all manual.
Built and sailed by Paul and Mo a couple in their mid 60s
whom we first met in Bermuda.

No furling mains are to be found except on very large boats (60 or 70 feet in length) and those boats use in boom furling not in mast. Reliability and bullet proof construction is a hallmark.

Ti Gitu in Profile - Interesting Boat

Boats are "junky" compared to North America. Everything is secure but boat decks work harder here.

Sailing families, some with two or three children, carry everything with them and most decks are fully allocated and well used.

Laundry Day on Waterhobo

Meredith fits right in.

Passat sailed from the Caribbean this year
by Esmond and Joan, in their 70s

Converting to European Electrical Systems - a Poor Man's Guide

2011-07-26T08:39:00.001-04:00

2011 06 26

Horta horta horta horta

While electricity is included in our marina fee until a couple of days ago we were unable to use the hookup.

In Europe everyone uses 220 volt 50 cycle power. In North America we use 120 volt 60 cycle. The differences are huge. There are inexpensive ways to safely use European power sources on your 110 volt North American boat.

Three solutions are available to the North American sailor presented in declining order of cost. We use the last solution on Meredith to great effect:

1. Before you leave North American install an isolation transformer like the unit shown here. These will cost you $1,000 to $2,500 plus installation. If you choose this route hire an electrician. With 220 volts the electricity has twice the force; It will kill you twice as fast and you will be twice as dead.

2. Spend less money and buy a "contractor's" isolation transformer like this one. This transformer is used in the UK by contractors on jobsites. UK law requires that jobsites have only 110 volt power to reduce risk of death and injury and there is a good supply of these transformers about.

Cost is in the $350 to $400 range (MAYS sells one for $400 here in Horta). The thing weighs just under 100 pounds and to use it you must modify your shore power cord by cutting off the old North American three prong male plug and installing a European 16 amp three prong male plug. Not a complicated alteration. Moving and storing the 85 pound transformer might be.

3. Buy a European 12 volt battery charger and use your battery bank to power the 110 volt AC inverter which almost every North American boat has by now. The charger powers the batteries and the batteries the inverter. Total cost for high quality charger, extension cord and adapter so the extension cord could plug into the marina 220 volt supply was about 100 euros.

An off the shelf automotive battery charger is unlikely to be three stage but who cares. Our solar panels use a controller which brings the batteries up to a good AGM voltage every day so we do not need the robust three stage charging our now generator driven built ibattery charger uses.

This solution cost us 115 euros for charger, extension cord and marina plug adapter but only because we chose a very rugged battery charge (76 euros).

Power to the People.

What is a Schengen and How Do I Deal with It?

2011-07-26T06:39:00.003-04:00

2011 07 26 (Debt limit day - 7)

Click the diagram and it will grow

courtesy AXA Insurance Company

Some questions from readers prompted this quick post on the differences between the Schengen Zone and the European Community and of strategies for dealing with the 90 day rule.

First, Schengen is the name of a town in Luxembourg where a bunch of European countries got together to try to improve trade and settle border issues once and for all. The Countries to the Schengen Agreement are not the countries in the EU or European Union although almost all the EU is part of Schengen. Most notably the United Kingdom is not part of all of the Schengen protocols. The map above shows who joined what.

A list of countries in each group is at the end of this blog.

Strategies for Dealing with the 90 Day Visitation Rule

You cannot cruise all of Europe in ninety days. The rule needs to be ninety days in each country however it is not. If we were New Zealanders it would be but as we say the government of Canada screwed that up.

So what is a cruiser to do?

1. Go to a non Schengen country for 90 days of every six months. Try Gibraltar which despite old descriptions of decrepit dangerous docks has apparently undergone a transformation. Gibraltar is not a Schengen country so the 90 day clock stops for the time you are there. Tunisia is another popular destination, not part of Schengen. Although recent political events have people worried this concern is overblown and the marinas all have stout fences and guards with uzis or something. (I'm joking. Tunisia is perfectly safe or as safe as it ever was. Like downtown Chicago or the docks of Marseilles)

2. Put your boat up at a European marina and go home for three months. While Schengen only lets people stay for 90 days your boat can stay for 18 months. A lot of cruisers like El Miramar marina in Spain for its reasonable rates while they return to North America.

3. Apply for a 12 month Visa. This must be done at a consulate in your native country, for us Canada. Reports vary on how easy it is to get a visa and Foreign Affairs Canada reports that you must have a reason for the extended stay such as Attending School or Working Legally at a Job. Cruisers have neither excuse and vacation does not seem too pressing.

4. Overstay the 90 days. This will put you at the mercy of every two bit undereducated tin pot dictator bureaucrat you ever run into. Some people do this and live a fearful existence thereafter. If you overstay you can be fined and deported at any time, possibly to lose their right to ever return to any Schengen zone country.

I don't know about you but we will not submit to such arbitrary measures. The nice thing about the law is that it is a shield more than it is a sword. If you are within the rules then no civilized jurisdiction can invoke objective enforcement of rules to force bribes or undertake actions with which you do not agree.

So stay legal and sleep well.

In fact Schengen is not cruiser friendly. There are far too many Europeans and far too few North Americans cruising for them to care. North Americans are a non issue.

List of Schengen countries

Austria
Belgium

Czech Republic
Denmark
France

Estonia
Finland
France
Germany

Greece
Hungary
Iceland
Italy

Latvia
Lithuania
Luxembourg
Malta

Netherlands
Norway
Poland
Portugal

Slovakia
Slovenia
Spain
Sweden

Switzerland

List of EU Countries

Austria
Belgium
Bulgaria
Cyprus

Czech Republic
Denmark
Estonia
Finland
France
Germany
Greece
Hungary

Ireland
Italy
Latvia
Lithuania

Luxembourg
Malta
Netherlands
Poland

Portugal
Romania
Slovakia
Slovenia

Spain
Sweden
United Kingdom

You Don't Have to Believe Me, But....

2011-07-25T05:00:00.003-04:00

2011 07 25

People are rightly concerned that Canadian (or Americans) cruisers can only stay in the Schengen Zone countries for ninety days of every six months. Several people have written in the short interval since the post to inform me that I am incorrect and that, for example, a Canadian gets 90 days in every country.

Not so my friends. Sadly, wishin' ain't gettin' folks.

A Canadian or an American is only permitted a ninety day stay in the entire Schengen Zone every six months. It does not matter how many countries you visit. It does not matter if you exit and re enter the Schengen zone.

From the first date stamp on your passport in any Schengen zone Country the clock is ticking. Visit as many countries as you wish but for the six months after that date stamp you may only spend ninety days in the Schengen Zone.

Penalties are fines and, worse, denial of entry when you try to return to your boat.

There is no point accusing the messenger of being wrong. That would be a truly significant event.

Canadians have no basis for arguing with Schengen Zone officials. Our own government went much further and imposed a unilateral visa requirement on citizens of the Czech Republic, one of the Schengen Zone countries. That was not well received, nor should it have been.

It seems the parochial, short sighted and all powerful dark lord and master who runs official Canada with all the foresight and imagination of an economist sees no reason why any Canadian should ever leave the country. If you want to see something visit the tar sands. Now we're talking.

Here is some reference material for people who wish to verify that I am sane and comprehending.

1. EU Council Resolution
2. EU Website Discussion of Resolution
3. Foreign Affairs Canada Discussion of Visiting Schengen Zone Countries
4. Rod Heikell's Discussion of Non EU citizens visiting Schengen Zone Countries
5. Noonsite's Discussion of Non EU citizens visiting Schengen Zone Countries.
6. NoonSite Email Discourse on How You Get Caught Overstaying a Schengen Zone Visa

Clearing Your Canadian Boat into Europe Via the Azores

2011-07-24T13:24:00.001-04:00

2011 07 24

When you leave Canada by boat you are always concerned about the rules for clearing that boat and yourself into another country. Getting into Europe via the Azores is straightforward.

I say "via the Azores" for I believe the process might be different in different EU countries

What does it Cost?

Like Canada it costs nothing to clear into Europe by boat. We may be the only two jurisdictions left where that is the case. The cost in the USA is slight ($20) but slated to rise dramatically as that government tries desperately to make someone pay for their dreadful and useless Homeland Security program.

What Documents are Required?

You will need the following:

Certificate of Registry for your Boat - This has been the first requested document in every country we enter. Even before passports immigration and customs officials want to see your ORIGINAL Certificate of Registry. If you have cheaped out and failed to registered your boat with the federal government just stay home.
Passport for every person on board
Proof of Insurance - At least Third Party Liability Coverage. Now I can tell you that in neither Flores nor Horta have been asked for proof of insurance but you must clear into and out of every port in Portugal and we expect fully that when we get to the continent we will be nailed on this.
Contract with the Marina - It is almost funny. In Horta you first sit in the marina office and are issued a contract. Then you walk across the hall to immigration, literally no more than 6 feet away, and the immigration official makes a photocopy of the contract you were just handed and places it in your file.

Insurance?

Figuring some of you might question my statement that proof of insurance is required I quote from the Noonsite summary of the Insurance Rules:

The first tenet is the requirement for vessels to carry insurance. While the overwhelming majority of leisure sailors insure their boats now, and charter boats are already covered by law, there are a significant proportion of long range cruising sailors who don't carry insurance because of the expense. In the future they will be denied entry to any European port.

What is the Process

In Flores here is what you do:

Before you enter Azorean waters fly your Portuguese courtesy flag and below it your yellow quarantine flag. This is different from other countries where usually you do not fly the courtesy flag until you have been cleared. Fly the courtesy flag above the q flag.
Enter the marina at Lajes. It does not matter what time of day or night.
Find a slip, any slip, and tie up
Go about your business. There is no marina office, no custsoms office, no immigration office.

At some point during your stay one or more of the marina staff (we never saw one), immigration official, customs official or maritime police will visit your boat and take your particulars. They will want to see your Certificate of Registry and your Passports.

It is very laid back in Flores.

In Horta, whether you have cleared into another port or not you do this:

Enter the port and tie up on the wall in front of the marina office.
Take your papers to the marina office and arrange moorage
Take your marina contract, passports, certificate of registry across the hall to immigration
When you are done with immigration you go to the next office down the hallway to customs and present your Certificate of Registry, passports and marina contract.

Effect of Clearing In

When you have cleared into a port you are cleared for travel throughout Europe without further restriction. The UK, which has never played well with others, does not join in and you must clear separately into that island nation.

Clearing into Flores is not clearing into the EU. No one stamps your passport in Flores but you have freedom of movement in a friendly inviting beautiful locale.

How Long Can I Stay?

You can only stay in the Schengen Zone countries for a maximum of 90 days in any six month period. This is irregardless of exits and entries and IS NOT 90 DAYS IN EACH COUNTRY. IT IS 90 DAYS FOR THE ENTIRE SCHENGEN ZONE.

Local immigration officials in Horta have suggested to us that the rule may be interpreted as 90 days in each country but we cannot find independent confirmation of this.

The high handed actions of our tyrannical prime minister the dark lord Stephen Harper in imposing visa restrictions on some Schengen Zone countries, like the Czech Republic, has not endeared Canada to Schengen Zone officials. Other countries like New Zealand have agreements in place assuring them 90 days in each country. Canada's visionary leadership, in the control of a bloody economists, cannot be bothered. In Canada we float a ship of fools, at least on the bridge.

So it becomes a bit of a game if you want to cruise Europe for an extended time.

This fact may decide whether we bother to stay and cruise or just go home. The whole thing is rubbish.

Why Would I Clear Into Flores At All?

Approaching the Azores from North America Flores is both the northernmost and the westernmost island in the Azorean chain. After Flores it is 120 nautical miles to the next island, Horta.

If you do not stop at Flores on the way by you will not return to it after you clear into Horta. This would be a major mistake.

Flores is an early chance for a rest and recuperation. Food fuel and restoration of the soul are all available here.

The marina is FREE. It has no services yet but you can tie up to a secure floating dock among friendly boaters.

Do not listen to anyone who will tell you (and there are many many such people) that you cannot clear into Flores. You can. You should. Tell them Bob said they were stupid and uninformed.

Rest up and head off to Horta when you are ready.

The Coward's Guide to Preparing and Outfitting for a Transoceanic Voyage

2011-07-24T09:20:00.001-04:00

2011 07 10

Horta

Our first crossing of the Atlantic Ocean, not really completed yet as we are only in the Azores, was filled with all the uncertainty and trepidation you would expect. We are not fearless aboard Meredith and as faithful readers know our Family Motto is "Run Away".

As it turns out running away, especially in advance of trouble, is very effective navigation strategy and we highly recommend it.

So here is the coward's guide to how we prepared and planned.

Boat and Equipment

For the year prior to leaving we replaced and renewed equipment that was perfectly acceptable for light weight coastal cruising. Here are the things we did:

sails were examined thread by thread and repairs effected
all standing rigging was replaced. It was 25 years old and while showing no signs of failure was too old to trust.
all running rigging was examined and every damaged sheet and halyard replaced.
batteries were replaced - our old 325 AH Surrette battery was 5 years old and showing the signs
mainsheet traveller replaced - the old Schaeffer required a mallete to move the car across the track, not acceptable on the open water
rigid boomvang installed - this was a luxury but we needed the topping lift for a HF antenna rig
Bottom was scoured, sanded, dressed and painted with good American poison. We should be good for 2 years and will not have to worry about using the wimpy Euro formulations
Our aging but working VHF radio was replaced with an AIS capable radio

Every single one of the above items contributed to a successful voyage. There is not one major expense we incurred in this regard that we would not do again.

One item not on our list that might be on yours would be a full engine inspection by a qualified mechanic. Only two years old and maintained strictly in accordance with factory specs the diesel had our full confidence.

When everything was replaced and renewed we had a survey done. Not an insurance survey a real survey in which we told the surveyor to pull out all the stops. If something was amiss we wanted to know. The survey came back clean except for some simple housekeeping matters but it was good to know.

In spite of all of this and even though we did not travel through storms we suffered failures: the exhaust hose decided to show rot and separate from its thru hull about 12 days out, the battery ground wire arced and developed a fluctuating high resistance which gave us two and a half days of grief and serious worry.

Why No Water Maker?

Watermakers are very expensive, finicky to use and demanding of their owners. They suck power out of your system like nobody's business.

Instead we relied on Meredith's one hundred fifty gallon fresh water tankage to carry us across. It was more than enough.

Meticulous measurement has pegged our consumption at something close to 4 gallons a day.

Rather than a watermaker we used substitution and conservation. One of the "at sea" projects we undertook was the resurrection of our seawater pump, a hand pump at the galley sink that pulls water right out of the ocean. Instantly we had all the water we needed for rinsing dirty pots, washing dishes and cooking.

Most vegetables and pasta are cooked with salt in the water anyway. Seawater is a bit too salty but 50/50 works very well. Potatoes cut and cooked in half sea are absolutely delectable on their own.

Navigation

Our choice was to make for Bermuda first and only if that voyage was a success carry on. We would not do this again. By the time you are seven days out you have already decided the trip is a success. Otherwise you would have turned about and gone home.

Bermuda is not a great stop. It is clean but very expensive. Food and drink is ridiculously dear and dock space in short supply and of poor quality. It cost $35 per person to enter the country and current legislation, not in force yet, is raising this to $250 per person. Ridiculous. Bermuda does not offer enough to justify even $35 each for admission.

In future we would leave from a higher latitude than Norfolk, or make our way north far more quickly, up to at least 36 degrees North latitude and 38 degrees would be better. Crossing the Mid Atlantic requires that you maintain a high latitude even though there is increased risk of storm.

The Atlantic is dominated by the mid Atlantic High, a high pressure cell that centres on the Azores. Because wind flows clockwise around a high you want to be on the North side of any high pressure cell or ridge of cells. That way the wind is at your back. This is why you want the high latitude.

The closer you get to a high pressure cell the lighter the winds get. You want to be two isobars away from the centre of a high as a general rule. This ensures reasonable wind.

Our trip was near windless until we inched our way North to 40 degrees North latitude.

Weather and Forecasts

Anticipating the need we purchased a weather routing service from Chris Parker of Caribbean weather fame. We never used it. Available information was more than adequate. It was reassuring to have the ability to call Chris and speak with him if there was ever a question in our minds.

There never was.

If you have a SSB or Ham Radio or even a short wave receiver you can pick up the surface condition weather faxes along with 500 mb charts and 24 and 48 hour forecast charts from Boston, station NMF on frequency 12950. You really do not need any more information than that.

Good forecasts and a record of barometric pressure will see you across the Atlantic out of storm's way.

A truly great weather reference book is "Weather at Sea" published by Fernhurst. This book enabled me to undertake hours of projects to improve my weather forecasting.

Herb Hilgenberg suffered a serious injury to his back just before we left Norfolk and we understand he will be retiring at the end of this year. Listening to Herb was not only informative but entertaining and each day found us huddled around the radio to see what progress the boats around us were making.

Communications

Simply enough there is little communication amongst boats at sea. VHF has too short a range and SSB or Ham takes a lot of power. Scheduled contact is possible but this summer the sun spot activity was (is) the worst in 25 years and propogation, a measure of the ability of atmosphere to carry the signal, was similarly degraded.

Satellite phone, at least the Inmarsat Isatphone Pro, was totally inadequate, contininuing a performance profile that began the day we purchased the unit. Our experience was not unusual and we arrived in Horta to find a band of bitterly disappointed Isatphone Pro users, or, more correctly, wannabee users.

In fairness Chris Parker warned us that North of 30 degrees North Latitude the Isatphone Pro would need an expensive permanent antenna installation and that North of 40 we could expect questionable performance. He was right. The problem is that the Isatphone Pro uses a geostationary satellite for communications. Any geostationary satellite must be located over the equator and so the further from the equator you are the further from the satellite you are. Add to this problem with distance the fact that as you move north the satellite lowers itself on your horizon so you must point the phone ever lower on the horizon until finally you just can't "see" the satellite any longer.

Weather Software

At the very least you should take with you a SSB with Pactor or other HF modem or shortwave receiver with a sound jack so you can run the output into your laptop sound card.

Airmail is excellent free software that will convert the output from an HF modem or a laptop soundcard into weather faxes, 24 hour forecasts, Navtex text broadcasts on your laptop. It is fool proof and bulletproof, two very good qualities in software. Airmail will tune the weather fax station for you if you have a controllable HF radio (like the Icom 802).

Jim Corenman and a group of sailor/computer geeks has made a major contribution to safety at sea with his Airmail software.

Fuel

We took with us seventy gallons of diesel and ten gallons of gasoline. We did not use half of either of it.

Our diesel tank holds 50 gallons and we carried twenty in deck jugs. The twenty gallons was a reserve not to be touched until we were within 150 miles of Azores. The high pressure area which centres on those islands all summer long almost guarantees you will have no wind for the final one hundred to one hundred fifty miles of your voyage. Twenty gallons of diesel is just what the doctor ordered to make landfall with no worries.

The gasoline powered our Honda generator to keep batteries topped up and we used 5 gallons from Norfolk to Horta.

Our diesel was run on two separate occasions totalling nearly 30 hours as we tried unsuccessfully to move our boat north to a latitude with wind. When the weather was too rough for the Honda to sit on deck and run we used the diesel to top up batteries.

In the end we used about 25 gallons of fuel.

Food

The Budget Committee speaks on this one.

Here was our big mistake: Anticipating food would be more expensive in Europe we stocked up before leaving North America. Boy were we wrong.

Food in Bermuda was hideously dear and we purchased almost nothing there. Food in Azores is so inexpensive as to be unbelievable. And it is all fresh.

The rule we used for provisioning was this:

Calculate the food needed for a 22 day voyage (2200 nm at 100 nm per day).
Add 50% for contingencies
Double the result

Had all gone well our voyage, Norfolk to Azores should have taken twenty seven days including five days in Bermuda. It took thirty four so we were eight days overdue which is thirty percent longer than planned.

In the end we purchased the same food and quantities of food as if we were setting off on a three month tour of the Caribbean. In the Caribbean of course there are innumerable places to pull in and resupply. Not so the midAtlantic. You must carry it all with you from the get go.

Planning food stores is further complicated by the problem of temperature. Cold rough seas require soups, stews and hot meals; tropical humidity suggests salads, cold meat and smaller meals.

For our part we anticipated cold temperatures and were totally incorrect. Hot humid and windless were all that we sailed in.

For such circumstances potatoes and pasta are excellent. Boil a potato and you have a hot meal. Let it cool, dice it up with onion, egg and mayo and you have a potato salad. Same with pasta. Add pesto and it is a tasty filler of stomachs served cold in hot weather or hot in cold. If conditions are rough add tuna or chicken for a full meal that can be served in a single bowl in any conditions.

Spices are basic aboard Meredith. Buy in small quantities because the moisture will destroy them all by the end of the trip.

When the boat is lurching, and the BOAT IS ALWAYS LURCHING, spicy dishes will obtain nothing but digestive distress. Plain food in modest quantities are the rule. Even my bolognese sauce, standard fare on land, caused the Rolaids to appear. Salt need be added to nothing to enhance flavour. Every comes with salt already added. Curmudgeon commented last night that even his cigars, kept safe in a sealed humidor, were coated with salt. That did not stop him from smoking them.

Fancy is not appreciated at sea, Simple and timely are. You are feeding guys here, guys on a great testosterone fueled adventure. Leave the crusts on the sandwiches. Today's lunch was Supreme de Cinquo de Julio. I took everything cooked and uneaten (left over) from July 5 til last night (the 9th), threw it in a pot, added handful of olives and a handful of mozzarella. Mashed pototoes (instant), pasta with pesto, red sauce with meat all went into the pot.

Reaction from the crew: "Are there seconds?"

Learn to make bread. It is easy, appreciated and how else will you fill your day?

Meals are best served on a very regular timetable and likely earlier than you do on land. You may not be hungry but that may have more to do with gyrations than lack of calories. Be late with dinner and the crew will feed itself. It can get ugly.

It is important also that crew be fed in time to permit an hour or so of quiet cockpit time for digestion, circumstances permitting. Remember eight o'clock is boater's midnight.

When you are selecting foods use the modern convenience of "instant" whenever it is offered. We use instant mashed potatoes, premixed pancake mix, canned sauces. Flavours are not as good as fresh but guess what? No one cares at least not very much. And the amount of time spent lurching around your galley is greatly reduced.

Cooking in any galley is a challenge. As the seaway builds the chef's job becomes hazardous and then some. Pots should never be more than half full, less if you can do it. Use your pressure cooker in heavy seas, even for simple heating of foods. Pressure cookers have lids so when the pot does a jumper it will not cover you in scalding beef broth.

We use "Creepy Skin" our name for that rubbery fabric out of which they make placemats. This stuff is great for keeping things in their place - like knives and cutting boards. Put a placemat of this wonder material under the cutting board and you can set your knife down on the mat and grab another potato or onion or move a pot off the heat without worry that your knife and cutting board will run away. When dirty the placemat just goes in with the dishes for a washup.

Foods and food products we have found to be very useful and surprisingly successful:

Good quality instant mashed potatoes. This trip we used Idahoan brand purchased in Norfolk VA. No they don't taste like real mashed but they are fast and easy and the taste is pretty good. When you are making shepherd's pie you will be surprised at how well they are received.
Krusteaz Pancake Mix: bought at Sam's Club in Norfolk we have a 5 pound resealable bag of Krusteaz pancake mix. This product makes unbelievably tasty pancakes, better than Capt Curmudgeon would make from scratch for Sunday brunch. Five stars for this item from both of us. This product has to be Krusteaz. They really are special.
Soda Stream Home Soda maker. We have enjoyed reasonably flavoured carbonated beverages daily for a month and we could continue to do so for three or four more if necessary. For $99 this machine is terrific.
Tortillas: These thin flour rounds are versatile and hardy. They will make up a wrap in no time, lend class to any egg scramble you want to make (spoon the mix into the tortilla, add cheese, salsa, sour cream, green sauce, whatever, return to the pan and heat) and you cannot kill them. Best before date on the packages we have is after August of this year.

Quantities of a few stock items with which we left Norfolk and in brackets how much was left over on our arrival at Flores. There was a complication here in that initially I provisioned for 3 crew in all but the third crew (son in law) was unable to join us. These stores were to meet the tastes of the people I was feeding. Your tastes will vary but the quantities may help you plan:

20 pounds of fresh meat: 10 pounds frozen, 10 pounds sausage (5 chicken sausage, 5 chorizo) (half left over)

6 pounds of prepared meat: pulled pork, brisket (2 pounds pulled pork left, brisket is all gone)

20 pounds of firm cheese (8 pounds left over)

60 oz of shredded Parmesan (30 oz left over)

3 dozen eggs (all used and could have used more)

20 pounds of rice (13 pounds left over rice)

8 pounds pasta (3 left over)

30 pounds of flour (20 pounds left over)

40 flour tortillas (10 left over)

5 pounds instant mashed potatoes

5 pounds Krusteaz pancake mix

10 pounds of potatoes (used them all and could have used more)

5 pounds carrots (used them all and could have used more)

10 pounds onions (3 pounds left over)

4 pounds butter (2 left over)

60 oz canola oil (30 left over)

4 litres olive oil (2 litres left over)

1.2 litres Soy Sauce (half gone)

.5 litre Worcestershire (half gone)

Baking

1 pound dry milk (1/2 lb left)

2 pound sugar (mostly gone)

1 pound brown sugar (less than half left)

1 pound cocoa (untouched)

1 gallon vinegar (half left)

2 pounds yeast (half left)

Sauces and Spreads

44 oz mayo (22 oz left)

160 oz salsa (60 oz left)

35 oz Tomatillo or Green Sauce (8 oz left)

20 oz Sriracha sauce (all used)

4 x 18 oz spicy brown mustard (1 left)

12 oz catsup (most left)

12 oz Frank's Red Hot Sauce

15 oz A-1 sauce

1.5 litres Cheez Whiz (all gone and much lamented by Curmudgeon)

Cans

10 cans tuna

10 cans chicken breast

14 cans mushrooms

7 cans baked beans

4 cans black beans

4 cans refried beans

3 cans kidney beans

2 jars stuffed olives

15 cans tomato paste

12 cans diced tomatoes

2 cans whole tomatoes

12 cans tomato sauce

2 cans spaghetti sauce

1 can roti

1 can chipotle peppers

3 jars pepperoncini

2 jars pesto

1 jar patak curry sauce

2 jars of bovril, chicken and beef

12 cans corn

6 cream of chicken soup

1 can cheddar cheese soup

4 cans tomato soup

6 packages dried soup mix

5 pounds peanut butter

2 litres raspberry jam

35 individual serve instant oatmeal

Goodies Bag

5 pounds peanuts in shell

3 pounds dry roasted peanuts

5 pounds individually wrapped dark chocolate pieces

5 pounds trail mix bars

2 pounds red licorice

10 sleeves Lay's Stax potatoe chips (8 untouched)

Back to Black

2011-07-24T06:46:00.002-04:00

2011 07 23

Amy Winehouse, age 27

Meetiing Pete and Being Boarded by the French

2011-07-22T07:46:00.000-04:00

2011 07 22

Horta

We have only been here six days but it feels like a month. A very very good month.

Peter and Sharon pictured here sail Meridian, British registered for good reason.

We met these two a couple of days out of Bermuda when they were calling on VHF 16 looking for a radio check.

Their transmission had seized, they were out of fuel, their batteries were dead save for the starting battery which was being kept alive by a daily solar panel charge. It was silent running for these two the whole way from Martinique to Horta. NO radio, no lights, no electronics, nothing. They refused our offer of fuel or to lend them our generator with that typical British stiffness.

Like that fellow in the Austin Powers movie who fell off the cliff yelling "No, that's all right. Everything is fine. Don't worry about me. Seem to have broken my leg. Bit of bother that's all."

Looking them up in Horta Pete and I drank a litre of brandy and Connie and Sharon a litre of wine.

They left this morning. Their transmission is still stuck in forward. As they say "it's only 1500 miles, Bob. Piece of piss"

Fair winds guys. We hope to be able to look you up when we get to Scotland.

Cost of Living: Shopping in the Azores

2011-07-21T06:44:00.011-04:00

2011 07 21

Horta, Azores

We begin with the Ronald "Trust But Verify" Regan memorial offer of proof of the contents hereof. Valid for residents of Missouri and other locations where the citizenry is less than likely to be totally honest. (How do you suppose Missourians became so suspicious? Not because they all told the truth now was it, Joe?)

English discussion is below the offer of proof.

Marina

The rate sheet for our marina with full electric and water calls for a price of $13 a day plus 20% tax make it $16 Canadian.

Miscellaneous

The daily espresso is 0.67 a shot.

Diesel is $1.67 a litre (beer and wine are both much cheaper).

My haircut was $6.75, Connie's about $27.

Laundry was $10.50 wash and dry for a large load. Machines are Miele and take a while so you need to add a few bucks for wine at the adjacent bar while waiting for the machines to finish.

Bar and Restaurant

In the marina bar a big glass of cerveza is €1; a small glass of Coke is €1.20.
Make that $1.35 for the beer, $1.60 for the Coke.
At the same bar a large glass of vinho is €2 or $2.70 CDN.

A plate of sardines, not recommended by the Curmudgeon who spent one entire evening trying to purge his system of these greasy bony little devils is $6.75. It turns out beer is a wonderful aid to purging sardines. Lucky it is so cheap.

An enormous tuna steak caught that day and then overcooked just the way the Curmudgeon likes it is $14.50. The Budget Committee's near raw tuna was the same price.

A Great Burger and Fries are $6.50

Grocery

Prices in the Azores are very reasonable and often lower than in North America. For example (for the metrically challenged 1 kilo is about 2.2 lbs., all dollars are Canadian which are about $1.05 US):

Big juicy oranges: $1.07 a kilo

Very lean hamburger (the Budget Committee needed to use oil to fry it): $6.75 a kilo

Boneless skinless chicken: $6.75 a kilo

Eggs: $2.27 a doz

Fabulous local sausage: $15.37 a kilo
Pepperoni: $13.50 a kilo.

pork cutlets: $8.75 a kilo

Fresh crusty bread: $2 a loaf;

Portuguese buns, fresh daily: $2.40 a dozen but you only buy three or four cause you buy them every day.

Decent wine red, white or verde:

Sangria: $1.60 a litre
Blanco: $0.93 a litre
Verde: $2.66 a litre

Beer sold in 25 centilitre bottles (about 8n oz) is $0.67 if you buy at the grocery.

Laughing all the way to the bank.

A Travelogue Moment

2011-07-20T04:03:00.003-04:00

2011 07 20

Horta, Faial, Azores, Portugal

Lest anyone think we are not enjoying ourselves almost beyond measure check it out:

1. Pico or Peako?

This volcanic island is surprisingly shy for something so proud. Most days she is hidden behind clouded veil. Last night she showed herself for a few hours.


Pico Peaking Out of a Cloud Seen from our Cockpit on the Wall at Horta - Tomorrow we may Climb the Beast

2. Daunting or Dante ing?

Flores is an island of views. A great view however is only acquired with risk and effort; purchased with threat to life and limb.

Here the Budget Committee takes the first step on a rock stairway leading 1600 metres down to the ocean.

You will notice there are no handrails. Seems innocuous enough?

This second shot, below, was taken three steps later. There are still no handholds of any sort.

Getting this photo was the last step I took on this express elevator to Dante's First Level of Hell

Apparently university students hike along the sides of the mountains that make up this island.

Go figure.

3. The Flores of Flores

This time of year the fields and roadsides are jam packed with the most prolific display of blue and red flora.

Other than buttercup like things the flowers have one of two main constructions, both vibrant.

4 The North of Superior Problem

Anyone who has driven the TransCanada Highway across the top of Lake Superior will understand the overwhelming sense of ennui that develops in the face of endless beautiful vistas. Flores is beauty foreign to my senses but beauty none the less. It is easy to overdose. Here are a couple more and then no more travelogue. But why haven't the rest of you driven the Trans Canada? Pansies.

Blurry but a great Caldera with Lake. We gained altitude for another a thousand metres after this stop.

The blue seen through the valley is the ocean. We are only halfway up this particular rise.

An Oxbow Incident: The Geopolitics of Docking a Boat

2011-07-19T04:53:00.003-04:00

Today the Bottom Half of Pico, Tomorrow, maybe the rest

Meredith Moored at MarinaHorta

2011 07 18

Horta, Faial, Azores, Portugal

From Flores to Horta on Faial was was a typical upwind slog: "Bang Bang Slam" from get go to finish. In the stiff breeze every Tilley Hat had dork strings fixed like bayonets. By the end of the trip the seven sailors on three boats, two Canuck, one Brit, had been tolled.

As the sun set after twelve hours of headlong rush across the ocean Meredith hove to. This gave the Budget Committee a chance to cobble together a meal without having most of her pottage relocate itself from pot to floor. Also it permitted her to wield knife without fear of errant wave bringing an unwanted slicing motion to its blade. After this brief respite we continued refreshed but not really ready for another twelve hours of this - in the dark.

In Azores one must clear into and out of every port. We arrived Horta tired, all three boats, to find strong surge and echo along the wall to which all boats must tie to clear in. The wall was perpendicular to the wind and as the wind drove the waves into that wall the waves bounced back. Where the bounced waves met incoming waves the wave height was nearly doubled and an odd and unpredictable pattern of dancing and crossed waves set up. Along the wall there was little spacefor a boat to tie up.

Meredith, first in of the three boats, took the smaller of two spots, two or three feet longer than our boat. Bringing our trusted waterhorse alongside the opening we stopped all forward motion and let the wind blow us straight in to the wall. OK. It was supposed to be this easy but the surge turned boat control into a significant aerobic excerise. In the end we were happy with our approach. We were grateful for our big "Spit and Sputter" fender salvaged by the BC from the ocean.

Half an hour's pleasant paperwork later had me out of the office to find the other Canadian boat moored and the Brit coming in to occupy the sole remaining spot on the wall.

This is where the story begins.

The British boat came in nicely enough. We watched as the skipper sloughed through a turn finding and then countering a strong push from the east wind. The water looked far more agitated than I remembered from my own docking, testament to the concentration which was applied at the helm.

The members of the other Canadian boat leapt to the job of catching lines and helping tie up the Brit: Canadian skipper at the stern and a crewmember at the bow.

On the British boat stood a feisty and fearless woman (with a solo crossing of the Atantic under her belt), waiting to toss a line ashore. Catching was female crew from the Canadian boat, a charming and capable young woman who joined her boat in Bermuda and had been adopted by her boat and the entire aging cruising community as unofficial "niece". In Flores I advised that "you have eight uncles".

As bowline was tossed ashore Canadian crew bent to the task of tieing up to a bollard right at her feet. The bollard was also adjacent to the bow of the British boat and provided no springing effect to prevent the boat from moving aft. This fact did not strike any of the participants or indeed any of us in the audience.

To all appearances the operation seemed a complete success.

As the bow line was being tied a French sailor, fiftyish, stringbean thin and sunbaked, rushed up yelling "move it up. move it up!!!". Crew ignored him and continued to tie up.

"No No!" exhorted the Frenchman. "Move it up!! At once!!". The behaviour was unusual to say the least but the Frenchman seemed genuinely agitated about something. The Canadian crewwoman again muttered a response and continued.

All at once the Frenchman pushed the Canadian woman aside and grabbed the rope. He started to untie her work moving the line to a bollard forward of the bow of the British boat. "IDIOT!" he yelled "Look Up. Move it up!"

The Canadian crew did not look nor did anyone else I think. No one but me.

The wind had pushed the British boat back towards the Canadian. The surge had both boats hobby horsing vigorously. Up and down in massive oscillations the welded stern of the British boat was about to bounce over and onto the pushpit from the Canadian boat. Expensive damage was the only outcome.

The French sailor was trying to tell the crewmember that she needed to tie her line to a bollard forward of the bow so she could arrest the backwards movement of the boat.

The British woman lit into the Frenchman. She was unabashed in giving him a firm tongue lashing. The Canadian crewmember flushed with embarassment which quickly turned to anger. The Canadian skipper, having adopted his crew almost as a ward applied all the vigour of a parent protecting child in his verbal haranguing of the French interloper.

The Frenchman, who had in my humble opinion, prevented two boats from expensive disfigurement, shouted a loud "Bah", threw his hands down and walked away, at every step loudly vilified by the crew of the two boats he had helped.

Now if the story ended there most people would see the point.

As they will do things on shore intensified. I think a bit of English French animosity sparked the next bit, evident on both sides.

Our clear sighted French sailor, no doubt stung by unwarranted criticism and appalled at the inability of those involved to even recognize what had happened, decided to criticize the captain of the British boat for his entry. Big mistake. Not only was the Frenchman wrong in his assessment but the British captain, a barrel chested man with oak staves for forearms, was not a man to permit himself to be called "Idiot" by someone of such suspect lineage.

An international incident was averted only by the captain of the boat on which the French sailor was crewing. He loudly and firmly dressed down his crewmember in full view of the audience ordering the man back to the boat. This had the desired salutory effect.

Violence was averted.

In a formal inquiry any barrister of even modest accomplishment could apply cross examination to adduce a pattern of truth from the testimony of the participants that might leave the errant French sailor more of a hero than has been appreciated to date.

When that inquiry finished everyone would hate how the lawyer had twisted and distorted the facts. Just as they will when they read this.

Kilroy was Here

2011-07-15T13:49:00.001-04:00

2011 07 15

Lajes Das Flores, Azores, Portugal


The Budget Committee and Maggie from H2O Hobo Doing the Kilroys at Flores

This morning I had to boot up the netbook to find out what day it was. No one on the dock (who spoke English) knew for sure.

After inquiring into the accurate day I fear the rest of day was wasted: rebuilding the windvane, watching Branco on Waterhobo go up the mast to repair his sail track, sharing what was left of our rental car day with boaters who needed lifts.

About 1000 things got interesting. Waterhobo was having showdown at the O-Mlette Coral and we enjoyed the fruits of war along with the crew of Ti Gitu. Winner of the omelette war was Ann of Waterhobo but her battlemate Branco did not lose face as he had taken over as chef at the local restaurant a couple of nights ago when the owner burned his arm badly enough to lose the night's business. Branco cooked for the entire restuarant including our party of eleven than night.

Branco, Paul, Mo, BC

Here you see Branco hard at work cooking over a wood fire the dinner of chicken and ribs that we all enjoyed only minutes later. The Budget Committee watches over his shoulder and Paul and Mo from Ti Gitu offer hints which Branco ignores:

Brunch settled, the Budget Committee did the daily shopping at the Ola bar where she replenished our supply of Portuguese Buns and a Loaf.

On her return we got out the drill and drilled a bunch of holes in our refrigerator so we could fill the surrounding space with expanding urethane foam.

Boy that foam really expands.

We found our fridge had far less insulation than even we had feared and whole cans of foam were injected into the forward fridge bulkhead in mere seconds. Then it expanded. And expanded. and....

When finished it had filled two other bulkheads in the fridge and we had blooms of urethane foam sprouting like mushrooms from orifices we did not even know our fridge had. I am not allowed to show you those pictures.

While the BC cleaned up the mess I jerry jugged fresh water to fill the midship tank.

Maggie and Ann from Waterhobo and BC from Meredith Working their fingers to the bone

Then the BC decided to join Maggie and Ann on the wall where they were recording their vessel's Kilroy in glorious living colour. Three women, hot sun and in no time at all the Vinho Verde was out of the fridge and the women were having a very good time.

But look what they accomplished:

Tonight there is a festival in Lajes and we heard a rumour of free food. Need more be written.

Crossing By the Numbers

2011-07-13T14:30:00.000-04:00

2011 07 13

Days Underway: 23 days

Water Consumed: 100 gallons

Food Consumed: 35% of original stores between Norfolk and Flores. (a separate blog will appear on provisioning)

Diesel consumed: 23 gallons
Gasoline consumed: 6 gallons

Equipment Damage:

Ground Fault on entire electrical system - took 2 days to locate and replace faulty connector
antenna failure on SSB - fought daily to keep the system working. Seems fine now that I have replaced the coax from transmitter to tuner.
End Stop on Staysail traveller failed and flew into ocean - rigged rope preventer tied to handrail, need machine shop to fabricate new part.
exhaust hose failed at thru hull - temp fix by cutting out bad bit and reconnecting. Replace when get to Europe
Windvane has lost its rigidity and needs tightening. Examining the exploded diagrams to determine what to tighten and how
batten on main - flew into ocean and sank. will replace in Horta

Most Impressive Event: Spying the Blue Whale 50 metres off the stern

Most Fun Event: The school of fish that adopted us as their leader and sailed with us drafting under our hull for 5 or 6 days.

Room With a View

2011-07-13T09:44:00.001-04:00

2011 07 13

Lajes Das Flores, Azores


The Budget Committee Hard at Work This Morning

The marina here is free. It opened yesterday, big ceremony with all the high muckity mucks gathered for a photo shoot attended by none but the self styled major domos. Fanfare, music blaring and not a soul in sight. We slept mainly. All politics has much the same effect on us these days.

Our marina is tidy and international: three Canucks, three French boats two back from the Caribbean one from the continent, Two Brits one from the Caribbean and German or two. And two dozen kids. Each of whom is having the time of their life.

Despite the grand opening and photo op none of the services is turned on or working yet - hydro, water etc. so no one is charging us anything for use of the marina.

Flores is one great mountain. To get anywhere you must climb. Especially when, as on Meredith, you begin at Sea Level. The island is 903 metres high at its peak and most of the action is on the slopes between 300 metres and 600 metres.

You don't realize it when you first pull into a Portuguese harbour (Azores being a special protected zone under the aegis of Portugal) but every bakery in town has Portuguese bread. That marvellous rough textured, hard shelled floury concoction we used to line up for for hours to buy fresh at the Portuguese bakery in Strathroy.

Here every cafe sells fresh bread, fresh daily. So what if I have to climb 250 metres straight up to get it. Here is what you do: you climb the 250 metres, buy the bread and an espresso. Portuguese espresso - two ounces of that thick black Portuguese mud in a demi tasse - is strong enough to jump start a Mack Truck and is used every morning by ten million Portuguese to get the day underway.

We dropped into Paula's Cafe today to see about getting some laundry done. Paula was precariously hanging from the top step of a ladder when we arrived and I gave aid and expressed concern. Turns out Paula, who hails from Angola by way of New England, knows and is related to half of Strathroy where the Budget Committee used to do business. This was cause for an hour of discussion. Paula then offered us a car rental for E35 a substantial discount from the usual E55. Well done Budget Committee.

Flores is reasonably priced, indescribably beautiful and friendly. We may be a long time leaving.

Colourful Abandon Rules the Countryside

The Ditch is groomed and staired.

Flores means flower and I mean Come On. Here are three shots of a drainage ditch taken from a standing position. I never moved, only rotated.

This third picture is across the drainage ditch from us. Surrounded by all that natural beauty the people of this unique community had to build a public park. Because there just wasn't enough nature I guess.

Every home in this Eden has a cement mixer and either a goat or a sheep. The goat and sheep are for landscaping purposes only.

A Portuguese Lawnmower Hard at Work

Sorry I have nothing curmudgeonly to say. I am in thrall.

It is getting warm, the beach is 100 metres away and filling with bikini clad nubiles. I see from the cockpit that staff have stocked the free bbqs with that fragrant island cedar.

It must be time to do something.

Bermuda to Flores in Nine Thousand Words

2011-07-12T08:46:00.002-04:00

2011 07 12

Porto Das Lajes, Flores, Azorean Chain, Portugal

39 22.72N

031 19.18W

We are here. Twenty Four Days after departing St. Georges Bermuda we have made landfall in pretty Porto Das Lajes on Flores Island, one of the Azorean Islands.

Right you see us approaching the "Town Cut", only way in or out of St. Georges Bermuda.

Most of the trip was slow, sailed under extremely light winds which ranged in velocity from 3 to 8 knots. Winds exceeded ten knots for only 36 hours or so on the entire journey.

Fortunately we were supplied with a "cruising chute" or gennaker, a gossamer thin sail of finest nylon silk which would pick up any breeze at all. Reluctant users of this sail previously it has become second nature for us to bend on this marvellous invention.

For the past 15 days the gennaker has flown almost nonstop - even overnight.

There were days and nights when the wind was not sufficient even to draw the impossibly light film of this impressive sail into form and those nights we drifted, halyards clanging and sails beating themselves to death as the swell continued to roll and roll and roll...

In the ordinary course of any sail things break and must be fixed.
Even crew are not immune.

Unlike lake sailing there is treasure to be found on the high seas, the bounding main and this compensates for much of the hardship.

Two days out from Flores we calculated we were two days out from Flores. Our speed at the time was 3.5 to 4 knots. Almost immediately the wind fell to 3 knots and our speed to 2.

As it turned out this was a bit of good fortune. That afternoon we came upon a monster whale lazing about the surface blowing geyser after geyser of flume into the air. This whale we learned today has been in the waters for several days and has been measured at 20 metres in length. Very impressive. No pictures. We were too busy watching.

One day out from Flores we calculated that we were two days out from Flores. Our speed at the time was 2.5 to 3 knots. This gave us a timely approach to Porto Das Lajes and we would arrive about 1200 z. Almost immediately the wind built to 14 knots, an almost frightening velocity given our history on the ocean. We arrived at the south end of Flores about 0300z in total dark. Not willing to enter any strange harbour in the dark we hove to and slept.

Awaking at 0700z we finished the journey in no time at all. Now we will sleep in Porto Das Lajes.

Good night.

Recieved By Text Message

2011-07-12T05:10:00.000-04:00

0900 zulu

The Albatross has landed.
Porto das Lajes, island of Flores.
No internet

Soon Baby Soon

2011-07-12T01:29:00.003-04:00

2011 07 10

39 29N
034 40W

About 160 nautical miles to go. Wind has fallen to 3 knots true off the stern. Do we motor? The desire to get there is offset by the cost of fuel in the EU outpost of the Azorean islands. At somewhat over $2 a litre we choose to maintain discipline. We are cheap.

Last night we passed a sailboat. We had a good chat for good reason.

Departing St. Thomas on May 25 our companions had run afoul of the same light winds as did we. However they suffered rather more. When we spoke with them:

they had decided last minute to leave and rushed the process. In the confusion he left his wallet and 2,000 Euros in St. Thomas at the marina desk.

they left their cruising chute on a friend's boat discovering this lack several days underway
they were near out of diesel
their transmission had welded itself in forward gear and would not release

So here they were running with no electrics, no fridge, no running lights, flicking their radar on once an hour for 2 minutes, never turning on their radio, having no weather information. This had been their circumstance for days and days.

We offered assistance: diesel of which we had a surplus by now, water which they did not need, loan of our generator to use until they made Horta. All the obvious things. The sailors, a husband and wife team, were British and fiercely independent. Politely they declined our every overture.

When we get to Horta we hope these two are still there effecting repairs. In this way we can get the rest of the story. And we can celebrate the wife's birthday which is on the twelfth but which can be celebrated whenever and wherever there is a decent bar.

Several friends have expressed concern over our being stuck in the "Doldrums".

Like them I always figured the Doldrums were a nonspecific term referring to lack of wind, lethargy, dead Albatross and "water, water everywhere but ne'er a drop to drink" sort of thing.

Not only was wrong but I suffered the ignomy of correction by the Budget Committee who did know.

The Horse Latitudes is a geographic band around the planet earth bounded roughly by 25 degrees North on the South End and 35 degrees North on the North end. This is roughly where Meredith suffered the loss of wind for lo those many days. (I always like it when I Can use the phrase 'lo those many days').

The Doldrums are strictly equatorial (who knew? not me for sure). They are not a band rather they are a moving phenomenon following the sun between the tropics of Cancer and Capricorn with a lag of about six weeks. If you look you will see they are now called the Intertropical Convergence Zone. Which is sort of like describing people with retarded mental development as developmentally handicapped. (not only do the retarded people know what you mean you insult them by saying they are too retarded to get it. Like spelling "walk" around your dog.)

You would think it did not matter given the complaint with each is lack of wind but the meteorology is quite different: Doldrums have no wind, frequent violent, often thunder, storms, unsettled skies, cloud and poor visibility. The Horse Latitudes have clear sky, excellent visibility, virtually no cloud and light winds.

Like now for instance when the wind blows a steady 3 knots.

Six Degrees of Separation

2011-07-09T00:52:00.000-04:00

2011 07 08

Meredith: 39 40 N, 37 xx W

Flores: 39 30 N, 31 xx W

We have had four days of the most unbeliev able sailing you can imagine. Cruising chute up 95% of the time. We douse it only for aberrant cloud formations, always to our advantage.

This is fantastic.

Underway Still

2011-07-09T00:51:00.000-04:00

20117 07

39 59N
040 53W

Less than ten degrees of longitude separate us from our destination. At this latitude a degree of longitude only measures 46 nm in length so we are inside 500 nm away.

All on board are pleased with our progress the more so since the loveliest breeze has blown up. For two days now Meredith has been bathed in the gentle clockwise flow of air around the core of our old nemesis, the Moriary of sailors hereabouts - the mid Atlantic High. Although we are just one isobar removed from the centre, and from the charts I see less than that actually , it is enough distance to grace our deck with the merest caress of air.

It may be only 7 knots but it was welcome for all that. We make 5.5 knots with the cruising chute bent on and light seas surrounding us.

The sailing for 48 hours has been delightful.

Yesterday we came upon a Spanish fishing vessel. Under EU rules such vessels need not carry AIS transponders until January and the skipper of this largish fisher preferred to keep his money in his pocket, perhaps certain that the price of the electronics would continue the downward trend it had carved for itself over the past two years.

As a result the fisher was heard not detected. It can be disconcerting to hear the unmistakable sound of machinery operating when you are gently moving along the middle of an ocean. Sound is not easily followed to its origins out here and it was several long minutes before either the Budget Committee or I could find its source.

As it crossed our bow and we moved to avoid what seemed obviously to be the line it was busily letting out behind itself its captain called on VHF 16.

A pleasanter call could not have been shared between two strangers. The skipper thanked us for avoiding his line. He was fishing for shark and had not seen us until he was upon us. We demurred and assured him his conduct was neither aggressive nor offensive and that more than adequate room had been available to all vessels. He inquired into our destination and left the air for a few minutes. Returning after a short delay he gave us the latest weather from his professional weather routing service.

In all it was a pleasant interruption to the mundane sameness in which we had found ourselves immersed.

Now we wonder how the Spanish prepare their shark.

Length of Longitude

It is a fact of maps that a minute of latitude is always and forever a length of 60.1 nautical miles. This is one of those delightful physical quantities known as a "constant".

Although also measured in degrees broken down into minutes and further subdivided into seconds longitude is not constant. Only at the equator is a minute of lontitude equal to 60 nm more or less.

As you move North or South on the globe from the equator the length of a degree, hence also a minutea and second, of longitude shortens until, at the polish extremities it shrinks to a mere point - having no dimensions whatsoever.

Here is a chart I made up and keep in my ready reckoner for quick reference. It is good enough for on the fly calculations:

Latitude Length of One Degree
(in nautical miles)
0 60.01
10 59 nm
15 58 nm
20 57 nm
25 54.5 nm
30 52 nm
35 49 nm
40 46 nm
45 42.5 nm
50 39 nm
55 35 nm
60 30 nm
65
70

Icarus to Ground Control: Father Why

2011-07-06T04:16:00.002-04:00

2011 07 05

39 20 N
046 02 W

0400z

An annoying brrrrp, brrrrp, brrrrp draws me from daydream, if that is what you call the state of half sleep that hoods the inactive mind sitting alone in the dark on the devil's watch. The AIS has detected a freighter, it tells me, of the name Alem Kaleem.

In the confusion of sudden wakefulness my eyes tell me the vessel name is "Alarm Kaleem". Adrenalin flows: "Alarm" rings clear enough in my mind triggering the proper autonomous response. Milliseconds later the fastest drug manufactury on the planet has formulated, fabricated and injected me with a full dose of stimulant leaving me full awake and realizing my error.

It takes the Alem Kaleem twenty five minutes to pass us harmlessly about three miles off. It is visible only for the final four miles of its approach. The AIS is a dream system.

During the passing of our two ships I attempt communication with the vessel. Its pilot is asian and apologetically inept at English. Why I wonder to myself as I cannot even place which language is native to my anonymous friend. Be it Malay, or Korean or whatever they speak in Philippines my lack is far the greater.

Sitting alone at the conn, pitch black surrounds me, no wind blows. Poor Meredith, our trusty steed, drifts, confused by the signals she receives from the ceaseless switching to and fro of wind so light as to be invisible to all but massive sheets of finest silk. Wind so light even the bits of yarn tied to our shrouds will not twitch an indication of its direction or strength. It has none.

A quick navigation fix confirms that we are drifting backwards to our intended course. We are powerless to avert our course, to improve our lot, to go where we bloody well choose on this vast unoccupied salt water prison to which we have consigned ourselves.

Our motion retrograde is consequence of our having been absorbed by the amoeba like blob of high pressure which grows every second enlarging its already excessive bulk consuming degree after degree of longitude. On the last wefax the centre of this low extends from 15 degrees West longitude to 60 degrees West longitude and has obliterated everything from 30 degrees North to 42 degrees North.

We find ourselves powerless to intervene.

Initially we fled from the battlefield at full speed refugees from an atmospheric battle in which we have no interest. We are but collateral damage in the games of the Gods.

Due North we ran, using precious diesel to do it. Our grail the blessed Forty Degrees Latitude. There we would find safety, there our sails could breath, there, we were assured we would find freedom.

Log entries tell the story: at three hour intervals over the past twelve hours: 1027, 1028, 1029, 1030, each entry a click as the blade of the guillotine is ratcheted ever upwards over our heads.

Playing Solitaire till Dawn

2011-07-03T14:04:00.003-04:00

2011 07 03

38 00 N
047 16 W

When we are not fixing rotted out exhaust hose or sewing the dodger again or baking bread or trying to set the windvane we amuse ourselves in various ways.

Oh, we engage in the usual activities of course but there are only so many books you can read or sudokus you do before craving a change. The jury is still out on whether you can have too much sex. Actually court is still in session. (Final arguments are due tomorrow)

So what does one do during the other rest of the time?

Right now for example I have just finished watching the 1500z wefax broadcast out of Boston (NMF). If I time it right I can fill an entire hour, line by line, watching first the satellite photo (oh, look. angry cloud over London. Wonder what is going on there?) then the Mid North Atlantic wefax Eastern longitudes and then western longitudes and finally the 500 mb North Atlantic wefax.

While I do this the Budget Committee is scanning the sea endlessly for treasure. Real treasure. Today we bagged a $450 fender and matching swivel from the fishing vessel Spit and Sputter. Obviously this valuable object has come loose from its net or the trap it marked and was found by us floating in the atlantic. We know the vessel name because the owner marked the fender/buoy with vessel name and two phone numbers. We would call one of the numbers but the guys did not put their area code on the buoy.

If anyone out there does a google search for the vessel name please email us and we will call and advise. Probably too late but we hate to enrich ourselves at the expense of a fisherman.

When these activities no longer satisfy we look for fish.

The BC spied a great huge leatherback turtle today and I saw one this morning but thought it a buoy. Who knew these things were big and round and orange? Yesterday of course the BC saw, or rather heard, a small pod of whales. After being startled out of her reverie by the powerful exhalationm of these enormous aquatic mammals she was able to call me in time to whale watch with her for a while.

It is really hot out here and the sun shines with the intensity of a third degree in a cheap spy film. Unrelenting is often used to describe the effect and perfectly appropriate that. Our vessel has a shadow. To a fish our shadow is shade.

Each day we find anywhere from ten to one hundred big black fish swimming under our keel seeking respite from the elements.

It is kind of nice being a rest and relaxation centre.

Fallen Angels

2011-07-03T14:04:00.000-04:00

2011 07 03

37 55N
047 20W

For days now we have been trapped in a labyrinth of breathless anticipation. Sadly no breath comes.

Ours it is, we discover, to navigate a maze of low wind tunnels seeking passage to the east. Unlike those neat little pencil mazes printed with the colour comics each morning our little wind tunnels are endlessly opening and closing at the whim of spontaneously generating and collapsing high pressure areas. Science perceives the cause and development of the low pressure area and has been able to confine such meteorologic events to a set of rules. Having observed cause and effect scientists now control the event.

Not so with high pressure.

To a sailor there is little worse than a huge slow moving high pressure area. Clear skies and bright sun certainly accompany such atmospheric events but so too do low or non existent winds. Conventional wisdom is that one must keep two isobars away from the centre of a high pressure cell to have even a hope of winds sufficient to power one's sailboat.

The area of ocean which we currently inhabit and have inhabited for over a week is an area of constant high pressure cells, leaping into existence in a matter of hours and soon thereafter dissolving as a new unanticipated pressure ridge appears only itself to dissolve in a few hours.

The nonexistent winds accompany each high pressure cell however.

36 hours ago the wind blew up and we found ourselves delightfully sailing in 8 knot breezes. Quite a change from the 5 to 7 knot still born breath we normally find at our masthead. And if the wind is 5 at the masthead it is 2 or 3 on the surface. All one night we powered along on God's exhalation making steady velocities of the 5 knot sort.

Come morning and we found ourselves abandoned, standing alone in the rising sun, another fallen angel of the morning. It was a wonderful night but not what we were looking for. We wanted something more...lasting.

Over the past 36 hours the forecast data have firmed up. No more indecisive accounts showing adjacent wind barbs only one degree in separation, pointing in opposite direction. The pressure forecast and wind forecast begin to look like normal circular meteo.

It is enough for us to throw the dice. We motor today and tonight, burning precious fuel each minute, seeking promised higher wind speeds at 40 degrees north latitude, or maybe 42 degrees. Wind could be as high they say as ten knots as if such a thing were even possible.

Our venture will take us well out of our intended path but we have visited the horse latitudes and have seen all there is to see. And then some.

If we fail to find the wind we have spent most of our expendable fuel and will be left with but 20 gallons discretionary fuel in the tank. Our last attempt to motor overnight into the waiting arms of ten knots of wind proved to be the usual purchase of a lottery ticket.

If we fail today we will be at least seven more days with no wind. Seven days is as long as the forecast goes.

Atmo Atmo Everywhere But Ne'er a Puff to Sail

2011-07-01T19:39:00.000-04:00

2011 07 01

36 07N
048 07W

"Good. Now Ease the Sheet. That's right. Perfect."

With no fanfare but a rustle of fabric we have just snuffed our gennaker for the third time in 24 hours. Stuck in light air for days now sail changes, frequent varied desperately anxious sail changes are the new norm.

Without doubt light air is the best sailing instructor in the world. We have been forced to share its company now for seven days and we have just about had our fill. Not that the forecast agrees. Nothing but light south westerlies, westerlies and northerlies for the next five to seven days.

That Coleridge fellow had it right. Out here there the universe consists of two things: water and air. You can't drink the water and you can't sail the air. Our air, at least, does not move.

Today we saw another sailboat. It refused our hail and sped eastbound out of sight as we laboured northward seeking more favourable isobars. If we are correct the silent runners will run out of air pretty soon. While a nice Rhum Line is really cool to sail this one takes them right into the maw of a cancerous little high pressure cell with no wind and no prospect of wind. We try to sail up and around it.

In all the universe we are alone. No ship nor contrail or evidence of human life has intruded on our existence for eight days now. Our friend Gerry, a retired Air Canada pilot, told us before we left that every night there are forty thousand (40,000) people in the air over the North Atlantic.

They are awfully well hidden.

So far that has been kind of cool.

Farewell to the Wonderful Week of Brisket

2011-07-01T19:37:00.000-04:00

2011 07 01

35 00N
048 05W

Ladies and Gentlemen, passengers and crew of the majestic ocean going pleasure ship, Meredith: I know you will all join me in a sad farewell to end our latest culinary hit aboard Meredith: The Wonderful World of Brisket!

Sorry to say folks but Cook has informed me that the entire seven pound brisket has been devoured. No more brisket sandwiches, brisket with cheese sandwiches, brisket with mustard sandwiches or brisket with horseradish sandwiches.

Stricken from the menu are brisket omelettes, potato soup with brisket bits, potato salad with brisket crisps and good old brisket and potatoes.

Alas you will no longer be privy to what has been a house hit salad de maison avec julienne of brisket.

However do not be glum. In keeping with our tradition to offer passengers and crew only the best in ocean going culinary experiences Cook informs me she has opened a new ten pound wheel of cheddar! Cook also tells me she has been able to get most of the green off the sides of the cheddar this time so let's hear no more of that negativism.

Welcome to the Wonderful Week of Cheddar! To kick off our new series of taste experiences Cook tells me she has prepared a feast for all:

Appetizer: cheese and crackers. Except of course as you all know only the first six lucky diners will actually receive crackers as they were all eaten last week, everyone else will be served elegant cheese cubes. Our supply of tooth picks remains high so no one will have to share germs.

side dish: potatoes au gratin. Except of course this mornings potatoe skin stir fry scramble saw the last of anything on this boat even related to a potatoe so you will receive a ladle of smooth creamy cheese sauce.

main course: cheese omelette. Except of course we have only one egg remaining in stores so it will be just some onions and some cheese sort of mixed together and fried.

You know what would go really nice with that omelette scramble: some brisket!

What? Oh. Right. Never mind.

Cook says if you don't eat the cheese this week will be renamed the Fabulous Fortnight of Cheese. So Bon Appetit!

Phosphorescent Wake or Florescent

2011-06-29T03:47:00.003-04:00

2011 06 28

35 23N
051 32W

We have not seen ship nor sign of humankind for four days.

Today the Budget Committee, sitting in the cockpit doing Sudokus, saw a four foot florescent light tube float by not twenty feet off the beam.

Not that boredom is setting in around here but we have spoken of it now four times.

An abandoned light tube. Oh My God.

Stay Tuned for All the News As It Happens

ps at the end of day ten we have made 700 miles to the good. To make that we have travelled at least 1200, the balance spent dodging threatened gales and such. Maybe we will be there by Christmas.