Fai Tira Blog 21.00 UTC  26 October 2009

Fai Tira in the Atlantic Ocean.  39:04.81N 7:57.60W

The last few days in Gibraltar were spent just trying to ensure that nothing had been overlooked and making sure that we had enough provisions(or should I say beer) for the Lanzarote trip.

Unfortunately this also involved the, seemingly, unavoidable Morrisons trip. Although I’m sure that Bill from Camomile is right when he said “you’ll be grateful later”.

My other trip to seek out goodies was far more fun. Following directions from Glenda, of Lucy Alice, I found myself in the covered market. This is a place that seems to get overlooked by the tourists.

It’s small, fairly scruffy and untidy, but very colourful and real. It provided the opportunity to stock up on fruit and veg that, although a bit pricey at least, looked really fresh.

I also took the opportunity to indulge in a coffee in an open area at the back of the building, another unkempt location of reality away from the throngs melting in the heat just yards away. Then just had to get the sketch book out.

The guys from Topsail, who provide most of the boats with their insurance, hosted a drinks and nibbles reception on Saturday evening. It provided some light relief with the last official social gathering before the off, and for once most of us left fairly early, set our alarms, did the final checks and fell into bed.

In spite of the prospect of this huge event, both Pete and myself had an ok nights’ sleep, emerging, full of anticipation, at about the same time.

Our friends Bob and Sue dragged their weary selves to the marina to see us off, after recovering from a walk down the rock the previous day. They’d made the mistake of listening to my estimates of distances (obviously hadn’t read the blog of our bike ride to Betanzos)

It was good to see them. They’re great company.

The boats had all been dressed as part of the final preparations. So the appearance combined with all the activity, gave the whole place an air of excitement that was hard to ignore..

Earlier briefings had stressed the necessity for care during the manoeuvre of a large group of boats in a confined space. Words that were well heeded. All went smoothly, with the result that we all arrived off Europa point with time to spare.

The day was pretty much as forecast, warm sunny, calm and light winds and we spent the next three quarters of an hour sailing close to each other, taking photos and wishing one another luck.

Then at precisely 10am with the boom of the field gun echoing around the walls of the old battlements, we all turned our backs on the Mediterranean and headed out of the straights of Gibratar, along the Spanish coast towards Trafia, across the shipping separation lanes and then pointed down the west coast of Africa to the Canaries some 675 miles away.

It shouldn’t really have felt that dramatic, after all we’d done quite a bit of demanding stuff already just to get here. I think that it must just be the psychological effect of knowing that it’ll be 20 months before we’re here again. I’m sure this had the effect of ratcheting up the emotional impact, that I’m sure got to all of us in some way.

Our departure was witnessed by groups of well wishers lining the side of the hillside above the battlements overlooking the start. We departed to a crescendo of fog horns and ships sirens as we manoeuvred ourselves out of the way of a large green cargo ship that seemed to want to muscle in on our parade.

It wasn’t long before the larger, lighter and sleekest boats began to move away, well before Trafia they were disappearing into the distance and we crossed the separation lanes pretty much alone.

The sea remained incredibly calm, the sun hot, the winds light and the coast of Africa mysteriously alluring.

We still had the company of two other boats as the sun started to make it’s spectacular exit from the day time sky and disappear below the horizon, setting it all on fire as it vanished.

For half an hour we just sat mesmerised as the colours intensified leaving an indescribable scene of fading beauty. And with the sails of our two sailing companions forming distant black silhouettes, the canvas was complete.

As the darkness fell the wind picked up and we hoisted the sails. Soon the outlined shape of other boats disappeared to be replaced with an array of twinkling lights that tested the powers of observation with every watch.

With the sails working well, even in fairly light winds, we were able to sustain an extremely satisfying 6 knots plus. Didn’t last long though, and just after daybreak we were back on engine power again, sort of a prelude for the rest of the day really.

Once more it was hot. For a time in the morning we thought that the conditions gave us the opportunity to experiment with sail settings. Pete thought that he’d tryout out something he’d wanted to do for ages, but in the end he just decided to play with the sails instead!!

About this time Duco, a sailor from Holland, came by in his boat Briet and we’ve been in close company since. It’ll be good if he’s still close by tomorrow.

Gets ever so lonely out here!!

Oh well, time for bed now, and look forward to another hot sweaty bay at the office tomorrow

Bye for now. 

Pete and John