Cadiz and Beyond

In contrast to Culatra, the anchorage in Puerto Sherry was peaceful.  Behind us on shore was a beautiful white sand beach and the only activity in the anchorage was due to the dinghy club in the harbour.  There were children learning to sail their dinghies and windsurfers - no power boats or jet skis.  The anchorage is protected from all directions except southwest, and unfortunately that is where the swells came from for most of the time we were there.  Well, if we didn't have anything to complain about we would be in paradise.  It just meant that the girls need to get used to the rolling action in order to sleep comfortably.  Oddly, they had no trouble sleeping while we were crossing the ocean in all conditions, but at anchor they had trouble.

1620 fort, main door

Balcony, El Puerto

Balconies - conversation areas

 1600 church, El Puerto 

After resting for a day, on the next one we went into the small town of Puerto de Santa Maria and were delighted.  This historic little town boasted of a small medieval castle dating back 800 years and a long history as a distribution centre for sherry.   We were pleasantly surprised by the sights as we walked the beautiful, narrow streets.  We would be back the next day to take the short ferry ride to historic Cadiz.

Cadiz - wow!  This is the oldest continuously inhabited city in Europe.  Originally founded by the Phoenicians around 3000 BC, Cadiz sits on a small peninsula that juts out to form the Bay of Cadiz.  It is a beautiful city.
Words will not suffice to describe the narrow winding streets lined with 4 story buildings.  Each building has it's own set of ornately decorated balconies complete with wrought iron railing.  Neighbors talk to each other across the narrow gap.  There are plazas everywhere and most of the roads are pedestrian-only walkways with more cafes and restaurants than you could ever hope to visit in a year.  Along the wind and wave swept shore are beautiful parks for strolling with exotic trees, fountains and shady benches.  We will definitely come back for another visit when we get the chance.

Spanish Galleon,  moored in Puerto Sherry

Market, Cadiz

Street in Cadiz

El Puerto,  cafe

From Cadiz, one must plan for the passage through the Strait of Gibraltar.  As the water in Mediterranean evaporates water constantly flows eastward through the strait to replace it.  On top of that are the tides that either increase or counter that flow.   In our case we were sailing eastward, so the only thing that we have to worry about are east winds, known locally as Levantes.  The trip from Cadiz to Gibraltar is too long to take in one bite, so a stop in Barbate, with only a marina and no anchorage, is required.  Once there we had to time our departure with low tide in Gibraltar to fully take advantage of tides and currents.  And we had to make sure that the wind is not blowing against us because this would result in wind against current and the seas could get very ugly.

Barbate beach

We had planned to stay only one night, but as it happened a Levante did blow up and we spent two nights in Barbate.  There is not much to say about this town other than it has a fantastically long white sand beach that is the main attraction.

When we did leave, we did so without wind and motored the whole way to Tarifa, which is where the Spanish coast turns eastward and becomes the Strait of Gibraltar.  Along the way we passed Cape Trafalgar, the scene of one of the most famous naval battles in history.  It was here that Vice Admiral Nelson defeated the combined fleet of Spain and France, confirmed British naval supremacy, and lost his life to French sniper fire.

Tariifa, as we turned left into the Straits

As we made the turn at Tarifa, we felt excited as we said good bye to the Atlantic Ocean and realized that soon we would be in the fabled Mediterranean Sea.  It was only 10 miles through the Strait and we were into the Bay of Gibraltar.  We motored past a dozen or so large commercial vessels at anchor the five miles through the bay and into the marina in La Linea, Spain, where we are now.  Gibraltar: another milestone!  Around the corner - the Med.

Branko

Leaving Culatra

Culatra town, sand and concrete, little houses

As is so often the case, once expectations are set high they are often not met. Many people told us about the beauty and serenity of Culatra; it sounded like paradise in a wilderness with a small hippie community living in it.

Now, on the Eastern Atlantic! Nice day on the beach

Fishing boats, Culatra town

This is only 1/2 of it,  rest is under water still

I have already described some of the action in my previous post, and we did manage to have a day on the beautiful beach, but we were ready to move on. Our much anticipated next stop was Cadiz, Spain, and we were anxious to get there.

As I was raising the anchor, up came a terra cotta float on a rope that was wrapped around our chain. It struck me that now that we are in a land where people have lived and worked for thousands of years, there might be a lot of junk lying on bottom and we were going to pull some of it up. The windlass struggled and when it came to the surface there was a huge tangle of fishing net, rope, floats, and crab trap – all heavily coated in mud. What made it worse was that the rope led to something on the bottom and we were still attached to it. I got out my dive knife that has very small teeth and is ideal for cutting rope and started sawing at the mess as I hung over the end of the bowsprit. It took about 25 minutes and I had to rinse the mud off my hands and arm twice but eventually it fell away and we were free of the bottom. Sadly, the blob is still down there ready to snare the next hapless victim.

This was a huge mess - and dirty

We motored out of the estuary and into a nice breeze, and we raised our sail and slowed the engine to let it cool before shutting it off. It was then that I noticed a knocking sound that came from the hull near the prop. I surmised that it had to be a piece of rope wrapped around the shaft as the frequency of the knocking changed with the rpms. We have a “Spurs” line cutter installed on the shaft, so I was not worried about fouling the prop and damaging the engine, but I was concerned about the rope somehow damaging the cutllass bearing. I was going to have to dive under the boat to inspect and resolve the problem. The seas were too rough for me to do it right away and we were on an overnight passage to Cadiz. Either we would sail into the anchorage in Puerto Sherry or the wind and seas would die down by morning and I would dive under the boat.

After a rough night on the choppy sea, dawn broke and the wind died. The waves had turned into swells that I thought were manageable, so I donned by skin diving gear, tied myself to the boat, grabbed my, by now, trusty knife and jumped into the water. I have never jumped into the deep ocean before, and I admit that my imagination was hyperactive from lack of sleep and too much coffee, so I did a quick look around for any lurking sharks as I dove down under the boat.

Of course there were none. The boat was rising and falling about 3 or 4 feet with the waves and I had to time my dive so that the boat did not come down on top of me, but it was not too diffucult to see the short length of rope that was knotted around the propeller hub. I managed to easily cut it away on my second dive. The tricky part was getting my arm around the shaft so that I could rise and fall with the boat while I held my breath and cut the line. If it was a really big tangle, I have scuba gear on board that I could use for the job.

Puerto Sherry, Cadiz

With the prop free, we motored the rest of the way to our anchorage in Puerto Sherry, which is on the other side of Cadiz Bay. Going into it our expectations were low since the guide books did not have anything nice to say about the anchorage or the town. To the contrary, we would come to enjoy this stop greatly.

Excitement and Tragedy in Culatra

A couple of days ago we motored from Portimao to another anchorage behind the Island of Culatra. The island is in the delta of a river that runs by the cities of Faro and Olhao. It is low and sandy and reputedly has a long and beautiful beach.

Of course the forecast was wrong and we had no wind when we weighed anchor, but once we got here it piped up. The anchorage is quite large and there are dozens of boats anchored here. The wind was blowing from the east and we were at the down-wind end of the anchorage. We set the Rocna and I knew we did not have to worry about dragging, but I was concerned that one of the boats upwind might drag down onto us, so I had a fitful sleep – popping my head through the hatch to have a look around throughout the night.

Since this is a river and also having a tidal range of about 9 feet, the current and tide combination will cause the boats to circle around their anchors a couple of times a day. This increases the chances of dragging in high winds because an anchor may break its set and have to reset along the new direction. This is what happened to our friends on Foxglove.

They had gone to shore in their dinghy to gather some clams. Once they were gone, I noticed that their boat was dragging in winds that picked up speed. We did not have our engine on our own dinghy yet, since it was the morning after we got there and had not had a chance to go to shore. So it would have been a scramble to mount the engine and chase Foxglove. Fortunately, they had plenty of searoom behind them and a neighbouring boat was ready to give assistance. The neighbour came and picked me up and together we went and boarded Foxglove; whereupon I let out more anchor rode to increase the scope and give the anchor a chance to set. Foxglove has a Delta anchor on chain/rope rode, but I feel that it is too small for the job. In the meantime, Yoshi and Fumi had noticed that their boat had dragged and were racing back. Once aboard, we raised the anchor and attached a Bruce anchor to the Delta so that now there would be two anchors in line on the same rode. We set the anchors and he has held his ground since then. Maggie and I know what it feels like to watch your boat sailing without anyone on board. Yoshi and Fumi were very grateful and relieved to have had someone watching out for them.

The anchorage is very busy with ferries, fishing and pleasure boats passing close by with no reduction in speed. A man from a catamaran anchored next to us decided to go for a swim and was about 50 meters from his boat when he got run over by a speed boat. His loud screams alerted everybody nearby to his distress. We looked over to see the speedboat circling the man and trying to pull him onto his boat. A passing jet ski came over and helped haul the man onto the speed boat. The injured man was laying on the back of the boat as they took him to Olhao for medical attention. I went out and towed the abandoned jetski back to our boat and waited for someone to retrieve it. The National Guard came later and told us the man's injuries were very bad and that he might die. That was yesterday, and we have not heard anything since.

With the overcast, windy weather, the dragging, and the tragic accident, this anchorage has taken on an ominous atmosphere and the girls feels edgy and nervous. We our hoping for the sun to break through to lighten the mood and give us a chance to go to the island for a tour and a day on the beach.

Each day offers a new experience.

Quick Update From Portimao

Portimao, old town

Praia da Rocha, Portimao

We have had spotty internet connections on the boat here in Portimao, but we are all here (Anne, Fumi, Yoshi, and Maggie) at an English pub here in the old town that has good internet, so I am just posting to let you know that all is good.  We have spent the week just relaxing, walking around, and going to the beach.  In general, life is really good.

Arrival in Porttimao

Yoshi, Fumi and Branko, Portimao

Crazy, water playgrounds - for rent

Perhaps tomorrow we will head east down the coast to an old "hippie" settlement near Faro called Culahtro.  From there we plan to make a series of day trips to Gibraltar to await an opportunity to pass through the straits and into the Mediterranean

Typical doorway in Portimao

A couple of days ago we spent the evening with some new friends, Rob and Irene, whom we met on their boat when they were anchored next to us.  They have a "quinta" or ranch not far from Portimao that has an unbelievable view from a hilltop.

The 'ranch' - view from the pool

 What a fantastic introduction to Europe!!

Branko

Crossing From The Azores

It is surprising how quickly one becomes inured to the things that once were huge obstacles.  When Maggie and I first started sailing, a trip across the lake to Niagara was a big deal - 6 hours and 30 miles.  Once we left Toronto, we steadily became accustomed to longer trips until we got to the Magdalene Islands - 100 miles was the new hurdle, an over-nighter.

Then it was the trip to Bermuda from Florida.  That was 800 miles and over a week at sea, both daunting and difficult to grasp.  But when it was done, the 1600 mile tip to the Azores was "only" going to be two or three weeks at sea.  So we did not even blink at the 800 mile trip from the Azores to mainland Portugal. In fact, our new Japanese friends on Foxglove, Yoshi and Fumi, traveled for 72 days from Japan to Vancouver.

We were on our way, Sao Miguel to Portimao - the final leg that would finally get us to mainland Europe.  The culmination of a spiritual and physical journey that was already 9 years old.  At this time of the year, what are known as the Portuguese Trade Winds blow in a southerly direction once you get about 400 miles from the Azores.  The pilot chart determines the average wind to be 20 knots, so we were expecting to be on a brisk beam reach most of the way.  So it was when we left Ponta Delgada with a good forecast - that lasted about 8 hours,  then the wind died.  We drifted north under the gennaker for a day until a west wind developed and we sailed it for 3 days on a gentle broad reach - not fast but it was beautiful.

Our plan was to head slightly north of east, aiming for somewhere between Lisbon and Sines, in order to allow for a southerly current, leeway, and any adverse headwinds.  Headwinds have been a problem for us ever since we left Florida because we have not been able to rely on our mainsail due to the problem with the sail track, which is still not fixed.  Without it, we have trouble pointing into the wind and just go slower on any other tack.  At best we can only use the sail while triple reefed.

Well, once we got into the trade wind belt the winds were more from the east than from the north.  The Grib weather forecast in the morning was predicting 15 kt. winds from the northwest, but, as we noticed all the way ovver the Atlantic, the forecast was wrong.  Our Cape Horn wind pilot did a great job steering us on a close-hauled tack in northeast winds that were blowing in the 25 kt. range by the end of the day.  The next Grib file was not calling for any more favorable conditions, and I began to worry about missing Cape St.Vincent.  This would be a big deal.

The Cape is where the Atlantic coast of Portugal makes a turn to the east and becomes the Algarve.  Just off the Cape there is a traffic separation zone that all the shipping (and there is a lot of it) between the Med and the North Atlantic must pass through.  Pleasure craft must avoid this 30 mile wide zone, which begins 15 miles off shore. The plan was to reach the coast north of this zone then head south along the coast to round the cape 6 miles off shore.  Miss and we would be halfway to Morrocco before we could travel east and then beat northwards to Portugal or Spain once we cleared the zone.  "Beating" means sailing into the wind, which we could not do easily.

To further complicate matters, I had noticed while I was running the engine to make water that the seacock that supplies water to the engine was partially obstructed and there was a danger that the engine could overheat and, potentially, sieze.  Fortunately, I had plumbed in a second source of raw water from another thruhull that I could divert in just this case, but it was a smaller diameter hose.  I wasn't sure if I could rely on the engine to motor into the wind nor avoid traffic in the shipping lanes.

Then we were faced with a new development.  The 25 kt. northeast winds had increased and backed to the north so that the heavy seas were becoming confused and uncomfortable.  Added to the already cresting waves were now some breaking waves with the difference being that more water breaks off the top of a wave and tumbles down the wave face to slam into anything in its path - namely H2OBO.

We were regularly getting slammed by waves, which caused a loud thud to resound and a heavy spray of water to blow over the deck and pilot house.  If we ran off with the wind more to our stern we could miss the Cape and  motoring was out of the question.  To make matters worse, three slides that hold the mainsail to the mast had popped out, which was already triple reefed, so continuing on our present windward course was going to become unlikely it we lost our main completely.  At this point we were sailing only with our stay-sail and triple reefed main and were being over powered by the wind.  Anne wisely suggested exchanging the stay-sail for the storm jib, since conditions could further deteriorate, with which I was loathe to agree.  With only an hour to sunset, I donned my foul weather gear and ventured out onto the heaving bow.  I wished for a chameleon's eyes so I could keep one on any breaking waves bearing down on me and the other one on the task at hand.  The bow was bouncing and the wind was blowing and what seemed like 30 was only 10 minutes, but the storm jib was hanked on.

We were 30 miles away from crossing the shipping lanes.  Because we have an AIS transcceiver, we could see all the commercial vessels making their way on our chart plotter, and they could see us.  For those who don't know, AIS stands for Automatic Identification System, which all commercial vessels are mandated to have.  This system uses a dedicated VHF channel to pass transponder data among all vessels with AIS capcbility - it is  wonderful.  Course, speed, vessel name, call sign, size of vessel, type of cargo, destination and, best of all, the time of closest distance that we would be from any ship on our present course is displayed on our chart plotter.  Folks, the shipping channel on our plotter looked like bumper-to-bumper traffic.  On our present course and speed we would enter this busy channel at 3 am, in gale force winds, without an engine and limited maneuverability 

We were tired and stressed out, so we decided to heave to, get some rest and wait for day light.  So we hove to and were relieved by the calmer ride and less noise.  Frowns turned to smiles and we were high-fiving each other when out of the darkness we were slammed by something that caused the whole boat and everthing in it to shudder. What we thought for a moment was another vessel that had rammed us was in fact a rogue wave that caught us broadside.  My peace was shattered as I waited for the next one to rear up from the moonless night, and I held my breath with each twist and drop of H2OBO in the waves.  The wind was only just a gale but the sea was ugly.  The next rogue never did knock on our hull and although we got some spray over the top, we sailed like that until daylight; Anne managed to get some sleep.  In fact, Anne can sleep through practically anything.  Maggie and I did not fair so well.

At sunrise the wind had eased to around 25 kts and shifted to a more favorable north wester.  We began hand steering on a broad reach and after a while it turned out to be a lot of fun.  The girls were having a sing-along in the cockpit.  The whole afternoon turned out to be a pleasant cruise through the shipping lanes.  I made a securite call to alert traffic of our limited maneuverability.  We only had to call four ships to ensure that we didn't get run down, and we were through the shipping lanes.

It was now late afternoon, the wind had died, and we were adrift.  The gales from earlier that day and the night before seemed like a bad dream and we had awoken to a windless, gently rolling sea.  There was nothing to do but start the engine and motor at low speed for the final fifty miles to our first port of call in continental Europe: Portimao.  It is an all-weather, secure anchorage that can be made day or night.  We dropped anchor just after sunrise and were warmly greeted by Yoshi and Fumi with a warm breakfast and some beer to toast our successful first ocean crossing.

Looking back at the experience, it wasn't sooooo bad - sailing through heaving seas and 35 knot winds.  Now we know what it is like and what to expect the next time.  Nevertheless, now that we are here in the Med, we will call it home until we feel it is time to cross another ocean, and we hope that will be a few years away..

Branko

Transatlantic Voyage Complete!!

We just dropped anchor in Portimao, Portugal!!   It does not seem real yet, but we are in "The Old Country".  Canada seems so long ago and yet it has only been just over a year since we left.

We had a wild ride for a day in a gale (more on that later), but right now we are going to get some sleep and the look around on shore later.

Branko

One More Time...

We have left Ponto Delgada to try for Portimao, Portugal. The forecast looks ideal - hope it holds up. More info later.

Branko