Islas Canarias

Persephone... Cruiser/Racer
Nigel & Karen Goodhew...
Tue 30 Oct 2012 20:14
The weather gods were playing havoc in the Caribbean, with more low pressure systems in the mid Atlantic and the effect they were having on the growing community of cruising folk in Quinta do Lorde Marina was palpable. Days came and went, each heralded by a concerned gathering in the internet room, all looking nervously at weather prediction websites…Passage Weather being amongst the favourites. Heads shook, plans were postponed and all yachts stayed put.

Moira from Equinox and Rowena from Galene, both Westerly Corsairs, negotiated with the Marina team to set up first a bring a bottle party and then nightly "happy hours" at the marina bar. The community steadily coalesced around these social gatherings, and our livers' work rates steadily increased as a result.

The Q do L community was diverse, and it soon became clear that we were the only ones with any kind of racing background..which seemed to set us up as proxy stooges…'you guys will sail in any weather, when do you plan to leave?'    Watching two larger boats coming into the Marina had reinforced any doubts we had had about leaving…Persephone's engine would be simply powerless to punch through the seas raging just outside the harbour. And though we fought it bravely, we succumbed to Marina fever…when the safety of the harbour and the congeniality of the company therein overwhelms the call of the sea….after all it's pretty wild and dangerous out there!

By Wednesday, Nigel was confident that the following day would present an opportunity for those (nearly everyone) headed for the Canaries. It would be feisty, with a 25 to 30 knots of breeze and large waves, starting around 4 to 5 metres, but the forecast was for declining conditions during Thursday night and Friday. By Saturday, if we had not made Lanzarote, we'd need the engine as the wind was due to die.

Moreover, the wind was from the west, giving us fast reaching sailing. The wavetrain was still from the north according to the interweb, so we would have following seas.  Persephone rallied a select group as an advanced guard, determined to brave the conditions and have wind for the entire 300 mile trip. So just after midday on Thursday 25th, Jack Tar (48 ft Jeanneau, Australia), Ruffian (Sadler 34, UK) a French Aluminium 44 footer and Waimangu (Rival 34, Irish) set out in flat calm conditions!  We were on the eastern side of Madeira, in the lee of the island, basking in the sunshine as we put our sails up. We elected for a full main and No 3 genoa. 

As soon as we reached the end of the Madeiran wind shadow, we reefed the main. At this stage, the genoa was still on deck and we damaged the luff tape as we attempted the hoist. So it stayed down on deck, but inadequately fastened. The sea rose with the wind speed and Nigel donned harness and tether to get out onto the foredeck to retrieve the sail. 5 metre seas will test any bowman, and he took several (nice warm) waves over the front before dragging the sail back to the cockpit.

Persephone, meanwhile, steered by FRED the autopilot, set off like a scalded cat in the conditions, very quickly leaving behind the accompanying yachts, except Jack Tar. So pleased were we with the progress we were making and so large were the waves, that we decided not to use a headsail at all until the conditions were safer. Nigel, possibly spooked by the aggressive dousing at the pointy end, suffered an unusual episode of seasickness, and was put to bed in the late afternoon to recover.

We logged our highest daily mileage by noon on Friday, with 170 miles covered. The night sky was clear, the wind strong, the phosphorescence astonishingly electric, lighting out wake like a shower of sparks. The moon was bright, as if we had deck lights burning and we settled into our offshore watch routine well. Karen roasted some salmon steaks and prepared a rice salad, despite the boisterous conditions. But we couldn't actually eat it until Friday lunch time, by which time it had been re-christened "salmon a la cabin sole".

We learned later that the confused sea state (North/ south wavetrain of large  4 to 5 metre waves, topped by diagonally travelling 1 to 2 metres ones travelling south west) had caused the smaller, slower boats some difficulties, with both being "pooped" (waves breaking over the stern) at different points in the night. Persephone and Jack Tar remained linked by an invisible cord, never more than 4 miles apart. David Thomas' design lived fully up to it's purpose and though we had several occasions when breaking waves chased right up to the transom, we remained dry outside apart from some spray, though a leak from the port side water tank ensured that we were able to rinse out the bilges en route.

Friday night brought beautiful sailing conditions. We had passed the Salvagem Islands and were now sailing with a full main and number 2 genoa in 18 to 20 knots of westerly breeze, clocking right. By dawn we were treated to wonderful views of La Graciosa and a little off lying rock called La Roquette, in front of Lanzarote, which spread out to the south of us. By 10 am the wind was dead behind us but down to 8 knots. Our racing background set up the urge to hoist the spinnaker, but we resisted, expecting the still lumpy sea state to make the sail frustrating as any wind would be shaken out of it as the mast was thrust forwards and backwards as the swell passed beneath the boat.

So on went the engine and we motor/sailed around the east / south of Lanzarote. Passing La Graciosa we saw turtles basking, and dozens of flying fish leaping from the water, using their tail fins to generate forward thrust and their wing like fins creating lift, enough to carry them anything up to 100 metres above the water surface.

The run from Graciosa to our chosen marina (the weather was expected to deteriorate again so we wanted a secure, sheltered mooring) of Puerto Calero was around 30 miles and we pulled in to the reception pontoon there at around 1700.  We were, of course, first to arrive. The Corsairs left a day later and arrived on the Sunday afternoon, with Waimangu and Ruffian pitching up in the small hours of Sunday, all safe and well.

Then a near disaster for the blue boat…as the engine throttle cable snapped as we travelled the length of the marina from the reception berth to our allocated finger pontoon. Fortunately we had just enough way on to make it to the berth, and were not travelling so fast that a hastily called up reception committee could not stop us before we ploughed into the sharp aluminium edge of the pontoon.

The job list now includes fitting a new throttle cable, with reliable advice from the Sigma 38 website forum, and re sealing the sender unit for the water tank. Then we can explore our first Canary Island. Named for the wild dogs (canine) found here in Roman times, nothing to do with pretty yellow birds!