FINNROSE 12.00 039:25:40N 031:18:00W SAT 13/07/13
Finnrose
Sun 14 Jul 2013 16:05
Around 7.30 p.m. we left to go for a meal to a German restaurant, the only one for which the Harbour Master had any information on. Their leaflet had an aerial photo of the destination, and we had a normal plan without it on, having to roughly guess the location from the aerial photo. What the plan didn't show was contour lines, and that it was all uphill, very steep in some parts. However, our three-quarter hour climb was lovely, we saw lots of houses, plants, cultivations, animals, and as every house had at least one dog, dogs. There seems to be few hi-tec shops as we know them, just a small room with white goods placed in them. Little cafes are dotted about, but again, one room with a plastic table and chairs outside, and all shut when we went past.
The restaurant was very smart; a small but tasty menu was on offer. They brought plums and logan-berries as an appetiser; then cheese, bread, pickles and a mayonnaise. Salads were chosen for starters ( we'd run out on Finnrose; there wasn't any in the supermarket that morning, the shelves were empty by the time we arrived at noon). The crew chose the main course conservatively, beef and pork, except for Mark who was much more adventurous and went for the local speciality, goat. The meat was delicious, even if the goat was a tad chewy. Most of the customers were gone by the time we'd finished our main course, so we left at 10 p.m. and started the downhill portion of the night.
It was really dark as we made our way down their drive to the main road, as there was no street lighting. We hadn't thought to bring torches. We were thanking our lucky stars that it was quiet, car-wise, as there was no pavements at the sides of the narrow road either. Starting off at a fairly steep angle, we declaimed at the moon and stars, and how peaceful it all was - that is until we passed the first house - when the air was suddenly rent with a loud thud, and furious dog barks. This was subject to the domino effect, so by the time we got down the hill towards the marina it sounded like the Flores version of the twilight barking, only at a much higher volume. The dog cacophony was drawn out much longer than it really should have been, as Ken W spotted what was obviously (we think, but can't really vouch for it) a plumbers business halfway down the hill. There was a toilet, complete with open seat, perched on top of a high pole at the side of his gate. This was a photo opportunity that couldn't be passed up, much to the delight of the dogs in the immediate vicinity...
Back at the boat, the dog barks were replaced with the vibrant chorus of the seabirds again; a pudding course of chocolate cake and tinned fruit was served on deck, along with the remains of a tin of evaporated milk. Reminiscent of the Famous Five. After a conversations about old tracks and singers listened to with our parents, tiredness overwhelmed and we retired to our bunks, just where people of an age who can remember, and still sing, such things as 'My old man's a Dustman' should be by that time of night.
This morning dawned grey and drizzly; a double-handed French boat, who were finishing a 10 day sail from Brest came in, rafting up against us for a while as the pontoons were too short for them. We left the marina at 10.30 a.m., and they took our place. Mark and Ken set the mainsail, and then we unfurled the genoa. We are now sailing at a steady 5 knots, in an east north easterly direction towards Faial, where Horta marina will be our next destination.