Fai Tira Blog 18.00 UTC  4th November

Fai Tira still in Lanzarote.    28:54.99N 13:42.35W

If Sunday was all about relaxing, then on Monday the mix was a little bit different. I think a little twinge in the back of our minds’, was starting to remind us that there is some serious sailing ahead. And uncannily the whole fleet seemed to react in unison. The marina became a hive of activity, with many of the crews busying themselves. A whole range of tasks were under way, ranging from complex electrical tinkering (that in one instance involved numerous trips up the mast), to general maintenance and cleaning.

In our case, after interrogating a prepared list in an attempt to tackle those jobs identified as high priority, the task was to attend to one of the bits that helps to make us go, and one of the bits that helps to point us in a straight line.

So with the assistance of a few willing and enthusiastic neighbours, and with the winds still light, we dropped the genoa put it in its bag ready to take to the sail loft for minor repairs.

We then set about the tiller pilot.

This task felt a little more complex and its resolution more doubtful.

The tiller pilot is an important part of our self steering capacity and for some time had given us cause for concern, with occasional unaccountable and abrupt changes in direction. It operates by powering a motor driven rod, through an arrangement of cogs and belts, directed by electrical gadgetry.

With no back- up we felt more than a bit exposed.

Getting it apart was quite easy, but we’re now a long way from home and not knowing the age of the unit, obtaining spares felt a long shot.

With the sail deposited at the marina yard, we started the unlikely search for tiller pilot spares. It lead us to the office of Jan, a marine systems technician. What a helpful guy. We soon established that the unit was of current design. Then, with him explaining its’ limitations, he reached under a cupboard and produced a used identical assembly, minus the electronics, and in great condition.

Our electrics were ok, so it was just a matter of transfer. We ended up with, what amounts to, a working reconditioned unit and another that we will be able to rebuild giving us a complete working spare, and all for a cost amounting to less than 15% of a new one.

That was the morning then. And although our physical efforts were very much limited, the achievements seemed disproportionately good, ending with two fairly smug individuals walking round with broad smiles for the next few hours.

The next couple of days included two large organised events. The first was early Monday afternoon, a coach trip to the south of the Island that incorporated a tour of the volcanic area known as Timanfaya. And then the following evening another coach trip, this time to the caves and underground lake and restaurant at Jameos Del Aqua.

What a dramatic, fascinating and enigmatic island.

The first thing that became visible, as we approached from Gibraltar, was a costal outline appearing from the mist and just commanding attention. As we drew nearer and the definition hardened the white painted, low level, flat roofed buildings, for all the world, looked just like one big caravan site and it was hard to conceive of any feelings of culture, tradition or substance.

The first trip soon put paid to that misplaced perception. Our journey through the dramatic volcanic lunar landscape, ranged from startling to breathtaking on a scale that was difficult to comprehend. All this visual stimulation accompanied by informed and entertaining commentary from the tour guide, confirmed a culture not only rich in tradition, but also one fiercely protective of its’ heritage and environment.

How puzzling then was the next trip? We spent 45 minutes, in the evening, travelling to what was an obviously beautiful natural cave and water system, that now incorporated a restaurant system, so tarted up to cater for tourists, that it resembled something like Harrods at Christmas.

What a disappointment. I found it so hard to find any visual pleasure at all. Even the speakers for the entertainment, on a stage made to look like lava, were disguised to look like volcanic rock.

I came to the conclusion that even if this were located only across the road from where I lived, then just one visit would still be enough!!

Was anything real!!?

Well, the folk dancing, singing and cabaret certainly were. The troupe of enthusiastic, authentic and smiling individuals; in brightly coloured costumes, swirling to the haunting guitar rhythms, were hypnotic. And although my camera battery had expired, Pete’s was still functioning so, I still managed to record some good scenes.

The women were beautiful and the men energetic and powerful.

How can one culture produce such vast contrasts in one evening?

Bye for now. 

Pete and John