39:22.7N
31:09.9W
13
June
We
arrived off Flores in the middle of the night and hove to for a few
hours before approaching in daylight. There was some anxiety as to whether this
most westerly outpost of the EU would have anyone around first thing on a Sunday
morning to clear Richard through customs and allow him to fly out 2 hours
later.
But the
guide book told us that “the friendly Azoreans are renowned for their readiness
to help others” and we were not disappointed. Charlie and Richard arrived on the
quay just after 7.00am and within minutes were in discussion with Rogerio, a
local fisherman. After initially saying everything was closed for the weekend,
they set off in Rogerio’s 20 year old pick-up with Charlie in the cab and
Richard, dressed for his arrival in Seattle, standing up in the open back with
the fish boxes – the objective ‘to find the customs man’. They first went to the
Custom man’s home but there was no sign of him there so then it was off to the
Custom man’s mother’s house who confirmed that he was away on holiday. After a
stop at the police station (closed after the previous night’s disco) Rogerio
pondered which of his nine siblings to ask for advice. The brother he
unfortunately chose must also have been to the disco as, despite loud banging on
his front door, he could not be roused. So then it was back to Rogerio’s house so that he could unload the fish
and change his clothes. Then it was off again in another car to find the Police
Chief this time in Santa
Cruz, 20 kilometres away. On the way lengthy diversions
were taken to the centre of the island to see calderas, lakes and waterfalls,
but finally they made it to the Santa Cruz Police Station. After a lengthy
discussion between Richard and the Police Chief on the quality of Eusebio’s
performance in the 1966 World Cup semi final match between Portugal and England, all
necessary procedures were completed. Although no passports were stamped and no
paperwork issued, Richard was assured that he would be able to fly out and
Charlie that he could leave in Neroli anytime he wished. After some more
sightseeing which included the old harbour and the whaling station, now a
museum, they finally made it to the airport. To finish the job, the
wonderful Rogerio brought Charlie back to the boat but only after introducing
him to his son Lucas and also to Paula, the owner of a petrol station who agreed
to come down to the harbour to collect our four 20 litre fuel cans, refill them
and return them to the quay within the hour.
We feel
comfortable that customs at Horta will accept our explanation of where the
fourth crew member is. They can always ask the police chief in Flores – if they can find him.
Later in
the day we went on our own taxi tour of the island – very green, steep with long
waterfalls and lakes in the caldera of old volcanoes, and with small flat areas
at the foot of vast rocky outcrops on the coast where the people live. There are
hydrangea bushes everywhere just about to come into bloom. It’s a
lonely corner of Portugal and very
attractive.
14
June
We are
now motor-sailing to Horta, on the island of Faial. Francoise and Diana are flying out
on Tuesday for a tour of the islands, and Paddy is going home for a break. He
will be back on the 26th with his chum Wiz Ashton who is Richard’s
replacement for the final leg back to the UK. The day had
dawned overcast and damp but we are now bowling along under blue cloudless skies
accompanied by our friends the dolphins. It’s not a bad way to travel the
oceans.
