Leaving Horta

The boat next to us berthed by propelling a young man from their bow onto our self steering. As you can imagine, words like 'what are you doing on our bloody boat swiftly followed from Caroline.

Their mast and boom had disused holes which meant that in the wind they sounded like a howling banshee. They stayed up late talking loudly, then went off to the campsite party until 6 in the morning. We woke around 8 and had a little music with our breakfast …....oops.

It is so time to leave for the Canaries.