I'm sure in the weeks to come when I'm battling against ferocious Atlantic squalls, I'll look back at this windless trip nostalgically. However right now I could do with a little more wind. I'm down to my last 30 litres of fuel and all the forecast can offer is "light and variable". Invariably a "variable" forecast means, I'll raise the spinnaker to try to catch any faint breath that deems to come in my direction, then half an hour later the wind will shift giving me 15 minutes of rope juggling on the foredeck to jibe the spinnaker and main. Once everything's settled down, the wind will die complete or shift in way that won't work with the current rig. More rope and pole juggling. When things settle down and I glance at the log I find I'm making 2 knots. With the energy I'm putting into barely keeping the boat moving, it feels like I could make more progress swimming with the boat in tow.
On the positive side, I've again seen a staggering number of turtles floating close-by and the occasional fish or dolphin jumping in the distance. It still makes me stop and marvel at the magic of the scene.
Position @ 10.20pm 2nd July 2009: N37deg 11.4' E00 46.6'
Distance to Spain (Cabo de Gata): 140
Thursday, July 02, 2009
Wednesday, July 01, 2009
Tuna jumping in the moonlight
Another day of motoring interspersed by attempts to sail. Still perfect for turtle spotting. I've seen at least five today. Are there are more turtles in this part of the Med or does the more usual wave-ridden sea prevent me from spotting them? It's so calm that their bobbing shells are easily visible in the distance.
The dragon fly is dead, long live my new dragon fly hitch-hiker. Would have loved to have a microscope onboard รก la Darwin's Beagle voyage, my dead dragon looks like the perfect specimen; its compound eyes definitely deserving closer scrutiny. I have more Algerian stowaways on board - an aphid, a butterfly, at least three moths and the new dragon fly.
I'm definitely planning to stop in Spain. Depending on the wind I should get in either late Friday or Saturday.
Been studying my Atlantic island pilot and reading up on the Azores. Really looking forward to getting there now. It'll be my final mission.
For the last four hours, I've been sailing under spinnaker and full main, making 2-3 knots over a smooth sea. It's incredibly peaceful and fantastic to have time to make whatever progress the wind allows. Just hope the little wind there is lasts the night. I need wind, as I won't make it to Spain on diesel alone.
Still no luck with the fishing, despite having small tuna jumping behind and either side of the boat by moonlight. I take the line in at sunset but when I noticed the jumping fish I silently paid the line out into the middle of the school. The result: a single bite then nothing. Perhaps Mediterranean tuna are more discerning than the Indian ocean variety and turn their noses up at my pink and blue squid. I'll try a new design tomorrow
Position @ 10.55, 1st July 2009: N37deg 29.5' E02deg 24.1'
Distance to Spain (Cabo de Gata): 220
The dragon fly is dead, long live my new dragon fly hitch-hiker. Would have loved to have a microscope onboard รก la Darwin's Beagle voyage, my dead dragon looks like the perfect specimen; its compound eyes definitely deserving closer scrutiny. I have more Algerian stowaways on board - an aphid, a butterfly, at least three moths and the new dragon fly.
I'm definitely planning to stop in Spain. Depending on the wind I should get in either late Friday or Saturday.
Been studying my Atlantic island pilot and reading up on the Azores. Really looking forward to getting there now. It'll be my final mission.
For the last four hours, I've been sailing under spinnaker and full main, making 2-3 knots over a smooth sea. It's incredibly peaceful and fantastic to have time to make whatever progress the wind allows. Just hope the little wind there is lasts the night. I need wind, as I won't make it to Spain on diesel alone.
Still no luck with the fishing, despite having small tuna jumping behind and either side of the boat by moonlight. I take the line in at sunset but when I noticed the jumping fish I silently paid the line out into the middle of the school. The result: a single bite then nothing. Perhaps Mediterranean tuna are more discerning than the Indian ocean variety and turn their noses up at my pink and blue squid. I'll try a new design tomorrow
Position @ 10.55, 1st July 2009: N37deg 29.5' E02deg 24.1'
Distance to Spain (Cabo de Gata): 220
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Dolphins at sunset
So far the wind has lived up-to the forecast's billing of light and variable. That said when the wind arrives it makes for dream sailing - smooth progress over a flat sea, with just the faint sound of the water lapping around the bow to break the silence.
The light winds are the result of a high sitting to my north, I was hoping the high pressure would impose a stronger easterly flow; each time the wind picks up I assume it's here to stay unfortunately it seems to vanish within an hour. I raised the spinnaker to try to make the most of the little wind there is. It's ideal spinnaker conditions, with no swell to unsettle the sail. In this configuration we sailed all afternoon making 1-3 knots, In the lulls I was reluctant to lower the spinnaker knowing the effort required to raise it again if the wind returned, however I finally gave in when the log read 0.0 knots.
Plenty of shipping about - there's normally at least one ship or fishing boat on the horizon - but no collision courses yet.
I set off without my usual frenzied dash around the markets for fresh provisions. Consequently I'm already having to ration onions. I've eaten the delicious peaches I bought, the fresh basil has died, but the rosemary I took from Isola Marettimo is lasting well - I think I'll survive though.
Despite being 50 miles off I can see the hills of Algeria to my south - be great if they could send some wind my way.
Plenty of wildlife today, with initially a couple of airborne visitors; a moth and a dragon-fly. The dragon-fly choose to perch itself preciously on top of the VHF aerial and the moth sunned itself on the corner of the spinnaker until I was forced to remove it before I dropped the sail. A couple more turtles floated close by and as the sun set, a school of dolphins joined me. I never tire of dolphin visits and this was especially memorable, with the calm clear water I could watch their antics far beneath the surface.
Some of them would swim briefly on their sides, seeming to watch me, watching them. As I stood at bow marvelling at their display, another school headed over, leaping out of the air as they rapidly converged. If they'd arrived five minutes later it wouldn't have been so spectacular as a slight wind rippled the surface, but as it was the timing was perfect. To add to the magic, a group of small tunas mocked my fishing attempts by jumping out of the water to the north, a turtle raised its head just in front of the boat and the reflection of the sun on the clouds covered the sea in gold leaf.
The dragon fly has moved its perch to a stanchion - but it still looks precarious. I've left some water out for it. I wonder if scientists in years to come will debate how the Algerian dragon-fly managed to the journey to the Azores?
Position @ 11.30 30th June: N37deg 40.3' Edeg52.7'
The light winds are the result of a high sitting to my north, I was hoping the high pressure would impose a stronger easterly flow; each time the wind picks up I assume it's here to stay unfortunately it seems to vanish within an hour. I raised the spinnaker to try to make the most of the little wind there is. It's ideal spinnaker conditions, with no swell to unsettle the sail. In this configuration we sailed all afternoon making 1-3 knots, In the lulls I was reluctant to lower the spinnaker knowing the effort required to raise it again if the wind returned, however I finally gave in when the log read 0.0 knots.
Plenty of shipping about - there's normally at least one ship or fishing boat on the horizon - but no collision courses yet.
I set off without my usual frenzied dash around the markets for fresh provisions. Consequently I'm already having to ration onions. I've eaten the delicious peaches I bought, the fresh basil has died, but the rosemary I took from Isola Marettimo is lasting well - I think I'll survive though.
Despite being 50 miles off I can see the hills of Algeria to my south - be great if they could send some wind my way.
Plenty of wildlife today, with initially a couple of airborne visitors; a moth and a dragon-fly. The dragon-fly choose to perch itself preciously on top of the VHF aerial and the moth sunned itself on the corner of the spinnaker until I was forced to remove it before I dropped the sail. A couple more turtles floated close by and as the sun set, a school of dolphins joined me. I never tire of dolphin visits and this was especially memorable, with the calm clear water I could watch their antics far beneath the surface.
Some of them would swim briefly on their sides, seeming to watch me, watching them. As I stood at bow marvelling at their display, another school headed over, leaping out of the air as they rapidly converged. If they'd arrived five minutes later it wouldn't have been so spectacular as a slight wind rippled the surface, but as it was the timing was perfect. To add to the magic, a group of small tunas mocked my fishing attempts by jumping out of the water to the north, a turtle raised its head just in front of the boat and the reflection of the sun on the clouds covered the sea in gold leaf.
The dragon fly has moved its perch to a stanchion - but it still looks precarious. I've left some water out for it. I wonder if scientists in years to come will debate how the Algerian dragon-fly managed to the journey to the Azores?
Position @ 11.30 30th June: N37deg 40.3' Edeg52.7'
Monday, June 29, 2009
Westward from Sardinia
Firstly an apology for the lack of blog updates recently. The distractions inherent in coast and island hopping though Greece and Italy haven't lent themselves to establishing a regular blog writing routine. Also as the day rapidly approaches when I have to convince others to part with their money in exchange for my knowledge and skills, I'm spending time working out what those skills might be. /end-excuse.
I've been waiting for nearly a week in the Agate Islands off Sicily's west coast for the strong westerly winds to abate. Not that I'm complaining - any extra time in Italy is a bonus. The winds finally eased and after a quick dash to Sardinia, it was time to head on again especially with a benign forecast.
I left from an anchorage in the Gulf of Cagliari with a gentle northerly wind which rapidly morphed into a strong westerly. Not at all what the forecast had predicted, though given the changeable weather I've had so far in the Mediterranean it shouldn't have come as a surprise. Under doubly reefed main and genoa I tried to beat my way west as best I could, which turned out to be SW towards Algeria - not ideal but it felt great to be on my way again.
It's 715 miles to Gibraltar from my point of departure in Sardinia. My plan is to leave Gibraltar for the Azores on or before 13th July, which looks achievable, though a change in the weather could upset my timetable.
Unlike most trips, I set off not knowing exactly where my next landfall would be. I've the Balearic Islands to the north, and mainland Spain bordering the approaches to the Straits of Gibraltar. My initial unplanned SW journey makes a detour to the Balearic Islands unfeasible - besides which I don't have vast amounts of time left and I think I'd prefer to spend longer if possible in the Azores.
The strong westerly wind vanished after the first night at sea, so I've been motoring westwards with brief flurries of sailing activity. It's not going to be my fastest trip as I'm trying to sail as much as possible to preserve diesel even if it means I drift along barely making 2 knots. My latest plan is to make a landfall in Spain in Cabo de Grata - mainly to refuel and reprovision before pushing on to Gibraltar.
I've had an easy start. The autopilot has mainly worked - though there's still an intermittent problem, which has so far eluded detection. When activated the pilot only steers in one direction. After a while it "fixes itself" and in the meantime I've a work-around involving elastic.
The flat water has been perfect for spotting wildlife. I've seen a couple of turtles floating on the surface, had a brief dolphin visit and been through a field of small Portuguese man-of-war jelly fish, heading east with their sails up.
In an over enthusiastic bout of tidying-up I finally disposed of my rusty machete, which has provided coconut opening services throughout the Pacific islands. I guess I should exchange it for an olive de-stoner tool.
Another noteworthy change is that I'll be heading through the Greenwich meridian on this passage. I was confused for a while when my course to my Gibraltar didn't make any sense - I'd set the the waypoint as 2deg east rather than 2deg west.
Position on 29/6/2009 @ midnight: N38deg 17.1' E8deg 11.4'
Position on 30/6/2009 @ 2am: N37deg 52.8' E6deg 15.3'
I've been waiting for nearly a week in the Agate Islands off Sicily's west coast for the strong westerly winds to abate. Not that I'm complaining - any extra time in Italy is a bonus. The winds finally eased and after a quick dash to Sardinia, it was time to head on again especially with a benign forecast.
I left from an anchorage in the Gulf of Cagliari with a gentle northerly wind which rapidly morphed into a strong westerly. Not at all what the forecast had predicted, though given the changeable weather I've had so far in the Mediterranean it shouldn't have come as a surprise. Under doubly reefed main and genoa I tried to beat my way west as best I could, which turned out to be SW towards Algeria - not ideal but it felt great to be on my way again.
It's 715 miles to Gibraltar from my point of departure in Sardinia. My plan is to leave Gibraltar for the Azores on or before 13th July, which looks achievable, though a change in the weather could upset my timetable.
Unlike most trips, I set off not knowing exactly where my next landfall would be. I've the Balearic Islands to the north, and mainland Spain bordering the approaches to the Straits of Gibraltar. My initial unplanned SW journey makes a detour to the Balearic Islands unfeasible - besides which I don't have vast amounts of time left and I think I'd prefer to spend longer if possible in the Azores.
The strong westerly wind vanished after the first night at sea, so I've been motoring westwards with brief flurries of sailing activity. It's not going to be my fastest trip as I'm trying to sail as much as possible to preserve diesel even if it means I drift along barely making 2 knots. My latest plan is to make a landfall in Spain in Cabo de Grata - mainly to refuel and reprovision before pushing on to Gibraltar.
I've had an easy start. The autopilot has mainly worked - though there's still an intermittent problem, which has so far eluded detection. When activated the pilot only steers in one direction. After a while it "fixes itself" and in the meantime I've a work-around involving elastic.
The flat water has been perfect for spotting wildlife. I've seen a couple of turtles floating on the surface, had a brief dolphin visit and been through a field of small Portuguese man-of-war jelly fish, heading east with their sails up.
In an over enthusiastic bout of tidying-up I finally disposed of my rusty machete, which has provided coconut opening services throughout the Pacific islands. I guess I should exchange it for an olive de-stoner tool.
Another noteworthy change is that I'll be heading through the Greenwich meridian on this passage. I was confused for a while when my course to my Gibraltar didn't make any sense - I'd set the the waypoint as 2deg east rather than 2deg west.
Position on 29/6/2009 @ midnight: N38deg 17.1' E8deg 11.4'
Position on 30/6/2009 @ 2am: N37deg 52.8' E6deg 15.3'
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Krioneri
I left Kiato as soon as I'd tested the new circuit breaker in the SSB circuit. As I transmitted the breaker flipped. Nothing wrong there, and no visible sign in the autopilot of burnt wires. The mystery continued....
As I made my way up the gulf of Corinth I couldn't help but notice how much lusher the surrounding hills were after the unremitting scorched barren islands of the Aegean. It made a pleasant change.
I busied myself with boat jobs, while the electronic pilot worked its fragrant magic.
Excitement for the day was passing under the impressive Rion-Andirrion suspension bridge. It seems the Greeks are understandably proud of the structure - so much so that you have to call the bridge control on the VHF to ask permission to pass underneath.
I arrived with a couple of hours to spare before sunset in Krioneri and anchored in 3m in the shadow of sheer cliffs.
24th May: N38deg 20.5' E21deg 35.6'
As I made my way up the gulf of Corinth I couldn't help but notice how much lusher the surrounding hills were after the unremitting scorched barren islands of the Aegean. It made a pleasant change.
I busied myself with boat jobs, while the electronic pilot worked its fragrant magic.
Excitement for the day was passing under the impressive Rion-Andirrion suspension bridge. It seems the Greeks are understandably proud of the structure - so much so that you have to call the bridge control on the VHF to ask permission to pass underneath.
I arrived with a couple of hours to spare before sunset in Krioneri and anchored in 3m in the shadow of sheer cliffs.
24th May: N38deg 20.5' E21deg 35.6'
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Aigina to Kiato through the Corinth Canal
The day of Mark's departure dawned. It had been fantastic having him on board, I'd learnt a lot, Kika was better for the experience, I just hope it doesn't take Mark too long to recover from his "holiday".
As we walked round the harbour towards the hydrofoil that would be the start of Mark's homeward journey, I spotted Blue Marlin - what a fantastic surprise. Over coffee we briefly caught up and they tried to persuade me to stay another day and sail together through the Corinth Canal. It was a very tempting offer, but it would mean I'd be late for my rendezvous with Rob and family. Reluctantly I parted, with the hope we'd meet-up in the Ionian.
In a final shopping spree in the hardware shops I found a circuit breaker that I could substitute for the one on the autopilot. Rushing back to the boat I quickly swapped the old for the new breaker and set off. Wonders of wonders the autopilot worked. However I'm starting to learn it's better not to prematurely celebrate autopilot repairs and sure enough after an hour a burnt wire smell started emanating from the area around the autopilot electronics. I decided I should play safe and hand-steer towards the Canal, planning to investigate while waiting for my transit.
I tied-up at the waiting pontoon and bounded into the canal authority building. It was three o'clock and I was unsure if I'd be able to transit the canal that day. After the wait to transit the Panama Canal and the hassle associated with Suez, I couldn't believe how quickly the paper work was sorted; one form "sign here and here" and then was asked if a transit in 5 minutes time would be too soon for me. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I was then offered a beer and some snacks - must have been dreaming. Back on the boat I waited and sure enough after a couple of minutes the bridge disappeared into the water and the lights changed to green. Too good to be true, but it was for definitely for real, as I made my way into the canal and was rapidly dwarfed by the 70m+ limestone sides. If I'd thought about it in advance I'm sure I could have recovered my canal fees with some paying tourists. The shortest, friendliest and most impressive canal so far.
I couldn't help but feel a little bit smug as I exited the canal and saw the long line of cars waiting for me. The day continued to improve with a decent wind on a flat sea, giving a great sail towards the bustling town of Kiato.
Kiato: N38deg 00.8' E22deg 45.1'
As we walked round the harbour towards the hydrofoil that would be the start of Mark's homeward journey, I spotted Blue Marlin - what a fantastic surprise. Over coffee we briefly caught up and they tried to persuade me to stay another day and sail together through the Corinth Canal. It was a very tempting offer, but it would mean I'd be late for my rendezvous with Rob and family. Reluctantly I parted, with the hope we'd meet-up in the Ionian.
In a final shopping spree in the hardware shops I found a circuit breaker that I could substitute for the one on the autopilot. Rushing back to the boat I quickly swapped the old for the new breaker and set off. Wonders of wonders the autopilot worked. However I'm starting to learn it's better not to prematurely celebrate autopilot repairs and sure enough after an hour a burnt wire smell started emanating from the area around the autopilot electronics. I decided I should play safe and hand-steer towards the Canal, planning to investigate while waiting for my transit.
I tied-up at the waiting pontoon and bounded into the canal authority building. It was three o'clock and I was unsure if I'd be able to transit the canal that day. After the wait to transit the Panama Canal and the hassle associated with Suez, I couldn't believe how quickly the paper work was sorted; one form "sign here and here" and then was asked if a transit in 5 minutes time would be too soon for me. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I was then offered a beer and some snacks - must have been dreaming. Back on the boat I waited and sure enough after a couple of minutes the bridge disappeared into the water and the lights changed to green. Too good to be true, but it was for definitely for real, as I made my way into the canal and was rapidly dwarfed by the 70m+ limestone sides. If I'd thought about it in advance I'm sure I could have recovered my canal fees with some paying tourists. The shortest, friendliest and most impressive canal so far.
I couldn't help but feel a little bit smug as I exited the canal and saw the long line of cars waiting for me. The day continued to improve with a decent wind on a flat sea, giving a great sail towards the bustling town of Kiato.
Kiato: N38deg 00.8' E22deg 45.1'
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Meganisi with Blue Marlin
I received word via email that Blue Marlin were waiting for me 15 miles north in Meganisi "in a paradise". So once I'd filled up with diesel from a portable tanker that arrived especially for me and Nikolas the water-man had unlocked the tap on the quay, I was off in search of the Norwegians.
True to their word, they'd found a paradise and kept a space for me. The anchorage was in a small inlet in a wooded bay in the north of Meganisi. The inlet was 3 boat length wide; boats moored with their bow anchor forward and stern lines to olive trees ashore. Rune helped me secure my lines. Apart from our recent meeting in Aigina, I'd last seen Blue Marlin a couple of times in the Red Sea. One time we met on a beach to which I'd paddled my kayak ashore. The twins had looked covetously on - the kayak was perfect for them, they could lift it, paddle it, swim with it. So once I was safely moored I pumped up the orange kayak and sent it their way. Over the next few days I think it was used more than the rest of the trip combined. That evening Hedda and Marita asked what I'd called the kayak, apparently "orange kayak" wasn't a good enough answer, so I asked if they'd name it for me. The next day they gave me three options:
* Nemo (from the animated film)
* Glalaks (raw orange salmon)
* Humo-humu-nuku-nuku-apoau (Hawian for a fish whose name is longer than the fish)
They all seemed equally good, so we decided it should have a first, middle and last name and duly christened the inflatable: Nemo Glalaks Humo-humu-nuku-nuku-apoau
Rune and the twins had built a barbecue ashore, in amongst the terraced olive trees. It provided the perfect setting for our evening meals.
The local town was 30 minute walk away and would itself have been an attractive port to stay. Its numerous shops would allow me to extend my stay indefinitely - highly tempting. However time was pressing on with a rendezvous with my next visitors in Sicily in a week's time. I set-to preparing the boat for the passage to Italy, meaning I dismantled the wind-steering, temporarily destroying the tranquillity of the anchorage while I used a punch and mallet to dislodge a recalcitrant shaft.
My last evening I let slip that my birthday was in a couple of days time, before we parted for the night Idunn insisted that I come for breakfast before leaving the next morning. It seemed as though she's been up all night preparing a birthday breakfast. What a treat; pancakes, cheese, bread, cinnamon apple cake, vanilla sauce, even cards and presents - it was hard to drag myself away from Blue Marlin's wonderful company in such a beautiful setting.
30th May, Paradise in Meganisi: N38deg 40.6' E28deg 46.9'
True to their word, they'd found a paradise and kept a space for me. The anchorage was in a small inlet in a wooded bay in the north of Meganisi. The inlet was 3 boat length wide; boats moored with their bow anchor forward and stern lines to olive trees ashore. Rune helped me secure my lines. Apart from our recent meeting in Aigina, I'd last seen Blue Marlin a couple of times in the Red Sea. One time we met on a beach to which I'd paddled my kayak ashore. The twins had looked covetously on - the kayak was perfect for them, they could lift it, paddle it, swim with it. So once I was safely moored I pumped up the orange kayak and sent it their way. Over the next few days I think it was used more than the rest of the trip combined. That evening Hedda and Marita asked what I'd called the kayak, apparently "orange kayak" wasn't a good enough answer, so I asked if they'd name it for me. The next day they gave me three options:
* Nemo (from the animated film)
* Glalaks (raw orange salmon)
* Humo-humu-nuku-nuku-apoau (Hawian for a fish whose name is longer than the fish)
They all seemed equally good, so we decided it should have a first, middle and last name and duly christened the inflatable: Nemo Glalaks Humo-humu-nuku-nuku-apoau
Rune and the twins had built a barbecue ashore, in amongst the terraced olive trees. It provided the perfect setting for our evening meals.
The local town was 30 minute walk away and would itself have been an attractive port to stay. Its numerous shops would allow me to extend my stay indefinitely - highly tempting. However time was pressing on with a rendezvous with my next visitors in Sicily in a week's time. I set-to preparing the boat for the passage to Italy, meaning I dismantled the wind-steering, temporarily destroying the tranquillity of the anchorage while I used a punch and mallet to dislodge a recalcitrant shaft.
My last evening I let slip that my birthday was in a couple of days time, before we parted for the night Idunn insisted that I come for breakfast before leaving the next morning. It seemed as though she's been up all night preparing a birthday breakfast. What a treat; pancakes, cheese, bread, cinnamon apple cake, vanilla sauce, even cards and presents - it was hard to drag myself away from Blue Marlin's wonderful company in such a beautiful setting.
30th May, Paradise in Meganisi: N38deg 40.6' E28deg 46.9'
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