Wednesday 23rd June (Lini’s Journal)
Brindabella's Web Diary
Simon Williams
Sat 26 Jun 2010 18:35
foredeck: Without waking me Simon had somehow dragged the dinghy from
the saloon, up the steps into the cockpit, onto the foredeck where
he’d pumped it up and now as it hung from its harness by the halyard,
he was having a spot of bother pushing it over the guardrails while
letting the halyard down with his fifth hand. Why he can’t wait until
I’m awake I’ll never know. Just conscious after a VERY deep full
night’s sleep I jumped into some clothes and rushed to help, just in
time to help lower the outboard, but too late to help with anything
else. In my defence it was only 7am and even the boats that hadn’t
arrived last night were still sleeping. Why can’t he sleep like a
normal person????
There is a beefy harbour wall along one side of the anchorage here
at Lages and opposite, steep cliffs rise in craggy grey and brown rock
with greenery growing in all directions and a slither of a waterfall
trickling down a crevice. Terns nest in the cliffs and circle the
skies above. A small beach of black volcanic sand sits near to the
town/ village where things are busy with the construction of a new
breakwater and small marina. A huge crane is moving a mountain of
massive rocks to form the breakwater while a dredger continually loads
a flat barge which empties the contents out at sea returning for the
next load and working a very long day. Behind rises Lages. Fishing
boats and a ferry are moored along the harbour wall where supplies are
loaded for Corvo the tiny island three hours to our north. We are one
of a dozen small, no nonsense, ocean-going boats anchored here, most
of which are European.
The checking-in procedure is a little different here. Immigration
officers drive to the harbour wall, flashing lights and beeping horns
to attract the attention of boats flying a ‘Q’ flag. You then take
your dinghy over to them and complete the first of four check-in
departments on the bonnet of their 2-wheel drive. It is then a trip to
the town hall to complete the business. We watched the harbour wall
for some time after breakfast before Si decided to get on with jobs.
First on the list was a dive under the boat to cut free some rope that
was tangled round the rudder. The day was sunny but the lively wind
was cold and despite Si’s wetsuit the water was freezing. He thawed
with a hot shower, coffee and cake then thought he’d better give the
town hall a try: It was shut. We got on with the zillion tidying up
and packing away jobs as well as a pile of laundry. I carefully sorted
through the grubbies washing only the essentials for the next few days
and leaving the rest for Horta where there will be a laundry. With the
strong wind the clothes were soon flying horizontally round the
rigging and for a change they didn’t take off and it didn’t rain.
Joy of joys the wifi is ok in the harbour and Simon is a happy
bunny. He mulched down at the chart table after lunch and stayed there
all afternoon returning after supper and having a very late night. I
was no better and spent an age catching up with emails, skyping who I
could and reading through then uploading weeks of blog. The evening
turned chilly and I snuggled in bed with my book suddenly conscious of
a curious din coming from outside. I thought there might be a party
going on but no, it was the shearwaters and my goodness they were
noisy. Si seemed very surprised that I hadn’t noticed them last night:
Hello! Some of us were sleeping!