�� The islands were further south than I
thought, much nearer to the Canaries than Madeira, so it was well into the afternoon
when, by the wonders of electronic navigation I woke from my nap to see our
mound of lava rock in the middle of the ocean. We dropped the sails as we
rounded the headland, zillions of curious Cory�s Shearwaters skirting the sea
and circling the boat. These islands are their main nesting ground. The
anchorage that faced us left me in no doubt there would be little sleep
tonight. The warden�s house nestled into the rocks and their neighbours are the
only inhabitants on the island and the tiny anchorage edged with jagged rocks
seemed to provide little protection from the Atlantic swell. With a rocky
seabed a tripline was recommended in case the anchor jammed and I had to
quickly tie on another length of rope as the water was deep. Festina Lente had arrived
in the morning and Phil called out useful info on depths for us. Although deep
I could clearly see the seabed and third time lucky the anchor held: Time for a
nice pot of Earl Grey. And also time to grab the binoculars for a closer look
at the amazing rocks and birds around us.
�� The warden escorts visitors on a brief walk
ashore if asked which Phil had done earlier, climbing the zig-zag path up the
rocks and over to the lighthouse where birds were nesting everywhere. He also
said the snorkelling was great by the dinghy slipway with lovely fish and not
so lovely barracuda. We were reluctant to leave the boat empty in such an
exposed location with visions of standing on the cliff watching Brindabella
drifting out to sea or onto the rocks. I offered to stay on board while Si went
exploring but he declined and we enjoyed the scenery from a distance.
�� The warden usually stays for three weeks on
the island but the navy vessel bringing fresh supplies and staff was now over a
week late. They were due to arrive in the morning. Festina Lente weighed their
anchor heading off for our next anchorage and over G&Ts we decided it best
to keep an anchor watch all night. Waves crashed over the rocks no distance at
all from Brindabella. We dined by oil lamp and the music of nature all around
us. If only Simon had not had wine with dinner����������.
I sat the first two hour
watch with eyes straining in the black night to judge if the rocks were any
closer. Your eyes play tricks on you when you�re tired and frequently as white
waves exploded on the rocks the largest rock would roll towards us! Brindabella
swung back and forth on her chain and my book remained unopened as my eyes
didn�t shift from the rocks. However, with a return to Spanish islands tomorrow
I was able to play some language courses on the iPod through the night on my
watches. I think I�m probably up to what I�d learned last spring again now! It
was a long night.
