25Sep10 - From Ilhas Desertas to Ilhas Selvagens.
Sulana's Voyage
Alan and Sue Brook
Mon 11 Oct 2010 18:20
30:08.3 N 15:52.4 W
Saturday, September 25th.
Leaving Carga da Lapa, putting behind us the rock fall (Chao da Doca) that created the shelter for this small anchorage in the first place, we headed South, our course set to pass between Ilha Deserta Grande and Ilhéu Bugio.
We left the Desertas behind, in the shadow of the setting sun, with one last, fruitless search for the elusive Mediterranean Monk Seal (monachus monachus).
It appears that the Monk Seals of Ilhas Desertas are considered a “relict” colony (in our on-board Natural World ‘bible’ – the marvellous and ‘wouldn’t want to be without it’ book – Smithsonian’s “SeaLife”).
It is clearly not an animal that will long be for this world, if only approx. 200 animals are left alive in the world, in all the “relict” colonies, as it is hard to imagine the Monk Seals from Ilha Deserta ever hooking up and mating with any of those others left in the Med!
Sunday, September 26th.
09.05 and great excitement for Alan below! After several days fervently trying to raise any other yacht in the ARC on the Pre-ARC SSB Radio net, he finally got to hear and respond to “Vulcan Spirit”, faintly, as she was several hundred miles away, off the North Spanish coast (!) and then, much more clearly, he chatted to “Maymio”, who were headed for Madeira and a hundred miles or so to the North of the Archipelago.
The Icom SSB radio works at last!
Arriving at Ilha Selvagem Grande in the early afternoon, everything seemed just fine and dandy, including the fact we were the only vessel in sight and the big red and white-striped metal mooring buoy reported in our pilot book being free for our use. It was too good to be true. Nobody else there to spoil the hoped-for remote anchorage shots in Enseada das Cagarras.
We moored up and set a modified steadying sail, in the form of a sailbag strung up aft, between backstay and boom, to keep us head to the wind and well trailed away from the solidity of the mooring buoy.
We watched the amazing swells breaking on the shoals around the entrance to this place. Baixa da Joana was particularly impressive at times, but Baixa de Oeste later proved to be her equal. Both were clearly real shipwreckers.
We passed a lovely afternoon nonetheless, with some gentle swimming off the yacht. The warden’s houses seemed quiet and peaceful at the head of the bay, where we were assured our dinghy landing awaited for the morrow.
Even with the swell lifting great breakers of foam off our port side on the point of the headland, we felt safe and cosy in our own little, ‘private’ anchorage.
However, all was not to stay well for long. At supper time the wind dropped and, just as dinner was nearing completion, the current eased off allowing “Sulana” to wander gently up to the mooring buoy and ever so gently start to wrap herself around the floating line between the Metal buoy and its pick-up plastic float. Within a very few minutes, unperceived to those with ‘snouts in troughs’, we had a line between keel and rudder and a large metal buoy gently rolling down the topsides at the bow. Not a disaster, but definitely not great either!
By now, of course, it was completely dark and there would be no question of trying to find a suitable anchorage in the middle of the bay, as we might have done in daylight.
The Selvagems are not charted with any modern GPS accuracy and our copy of “Atlantic Islands” warned us of the same. Our new Raymarine plotter and radar differed in opinion by about 200 metres or more. The plotter GPS position had put us ashore, when we were clearly in mid-bay earlier, so close navigation by night was a No No! We would have to report this to Imrays….
All we knew was we could not stay where we were.
The exit route out was to steer a ‘departure bearing’ of 225ºM. So a swift decision was taken and we put back out to sea, to stand off until daybreak allowed us to return and anchor safely. We headed out under mainsail only and sailed/drifted to and fro at 0.5 knots throughout the hours of darkness, whilst the girls slept heedlessly below.
It was all painless enough for Richard and Alan, and all done on a smooth sea and under a starry sky, but a fag, nonetheless. We all hoped the effort of losing a night’s sleep would be worth it...........