�� 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.