We left La Palma after at 6.00 a.m. after 5 exhilarating days on this lush and very mountainous island. We motored out of the harbour and half heartedly hoisted the mainsail as there was no wind. Yesterday there had been plenty blowing through the moorings, where had it all gone? We soon found out, it was out there just waiting to blow up a hooley. At first we thought it was an acceleration zone around the island but no, the white horses grew bigger as we distanced from the land. Huge waves loomed over us until one threw itself into the cockpit just as we sat down for lunch – we were soaked and our kicked off shoes floated around us until the water drained away. We ate quickly lest our food be swamped then started moving about, it was warm so we soon became damp rather than sodden, then dry but salty!

The wind continued, we were doing 8 knots then it increased to 40 knots of wind, 50 knots of wind and we were speeding through great swell at 10 knots with 3 reefs in the mainsail which we speedily hauled in. The jib was half furled and wound in a little more, we calmed down to a 7 knot push through a great white, racing sea. 9½ tiring hours later we switched on the engine to help us negotiate our way into the harbour at Puerto Estaca having to turn against the wind to get in. No pontoons here just a great wall with a 6-8 inch overhang half way up. The harbour master directed us to a place on the wall and helped us moor up, very tricky in the wild conditions. We did our best to manage things but try as we might the swell kept lifting us, ramming our stanchions under the overhang with great graunches. We had to leave and get out into the waves again.

We were out of the harbour in a flash with the wind at our backs to make our way along the coast to Puerto Restinga, another harbour wall awaited us also with an overhang but this time much higher up. We knew this would be okay on approach as we could see other masts there. Several boats were moored against the wall: Polish, French, Swiss and Danish; we were the only Brit. We moored up between the French steel boat which was happily grinding itself into the wall and the Swiss steel boat that had burst a couple of fenders against the wall. El Hierro seemed less and less attractive by the minute.

The harbour wall was so high it was almost impossible to get ashore but we had a lot of help tying up from our new French neighbours who were very friendly and helpful. Eventually we were secured to bollards and mooring rings but we decided to ease ourselves forward to some steps. This was complicated as we had so many mooring lines set up and we were being pushed hard against the wall by the wind. We gradually achieved our aim when the harbour master appeared telling us with many hand signals that we would have to move back – the steps were in constant use by dive boats loading and unloading people and equipment. We were quite tired at this point and after another struggle just flopped down to drink lashings of tea. Then out again to beef up the fendering and give the mooring lines a final tweak for the night.

Next morning we saw a lot of work going on in the harbour at Restinga and in a year's time it will have good facilities but at the moment it is dirty and dusty from construction work although the water is clean and crystal clear. The town is tiny but we had very good tapas and beer in a restaurant overlooking the harbour which looked very scenic from the land. There is a bread 'boutique', a tiny supermercado and a bus twice a day to the capital an hour away at the top of the caldera. We stayed put as we were so tired after our journey and mooring escapades that we just wanted to stop. We had 2 agonizing nights whilst the gale continued and the boat scrunched, graunched and grouched against the wall, squashing our fenders and ripping their cover. UGH!

This was the first time to have been really sorry that we had chosen a certain landfall, it was particularly disappointing as it was our last stop in the Canaries which we have really enjoyed. However, just a short stop and now onward to the Cape Verdes for the first 750 miles of our Atlantic crossing.