29:13.07N 13:31.76W

Friday 19th November 2010

Dawn, landfall, and as spectacular a daybreak as one could wish.  For there, bathed in sunlight off our starboard bow was a giant volcano, complete with crater.  Rising steeply out of the ocean for 1000 feet, Isla de Allegranza is uninhabited and barren, but impressive and a welcome sight after 4 days and nights at sea.  Beyond it we could see Isla Graciosa, where we hoped to shelter and enjoy some rest.

Our 600 mile sail from Portugal had been eventful, though the sorts of challenges that presented themselves will be familiar to those who also choose to travel in this strange, slow, uncomfortable and yet somehow enchanting way.  But the lure of the Canaries had beckoned, and it was time for us to leave Portimao and follow the sun south.

Our stay in the Algarve was pleasant and comfortable.   Our very old friends Tim and Barbara flew out from England to join us, and in their company we enjoyed a break from boat jobs and the opportunity to become tourists for a while.

 The coastline is attractive with beautiful beaches and bays, although sometimes backed by areas of excessive tourist development.  The shore is eroding rapidly, and despite attempts to reinforce the cliffs with stone walls, some quite new buildings were actually in danger of falling into the sea.

Though damaging to property, the erosion still had a positive aspect – fossils!  Dating from the Miocene, the sedimentary rock contained ancient sea urchins and bivalves, adding interest to our coastal walks.

Erosion is not the only problem to have beset this area.  In 1755, one of the deadliest earthquakes in history struck Portugal.  The epicentre was in the Atlantic Ocean, about 120 miles W-SW of Cape St Vincent, and, together with its accompanying tsunami, killed 40,000 people in Lisbon alone.  The devastation included the Royal Ribeira Palace.   With the loss of the Royal archives, the historical records of Vasco da Gama and other early explorers and hundreds of works of art including paintings by Titian and Rubens, all disappeared.  On the Algarve destruction was rampant, and, in Lagos, the waves reached the top of the city walls.

Also in Portimao was our good friend Jim, spending time on his own boat ‘Mbolo’.  Jim is part of the reason we came here, and for those lucky enough to meet him, his advice on all things nautical is priceless!  But with all the comforts and convenience of Portimao, we were both suffering from an advanced bout of ‘port rot’.  It would not be long before this insidious disease took such a firm hold that we would convince ourselves that there was really no need to go anywhere else.

And so it was (as the miller told his tale)…

 - that with no running fresh water, the spinnaker pole jammed up on the genoa sheet, the navigation computer crashed and my shaver packed up, we pulled into an idyllic bay on the south of Gracioza.  The anchor dropped through 40 feet of crystal clear blue water onto sand, watched by tiny fish.  Within an hour, a dinghy pulled up and we were invited to join the other yachts for drinks on the beach.   All was forgotten as we played guitars, socialised and watched the sun go down against the backdrop of Lanzarote’s volcanic cliffs, 1 mile away across the bay.