Category: Places

After heading back south through the Cape Cod Canal we decided to explore some of the anchorages at its mouth in an area known as Buzzards Bay. An area 28 miles long by 8 miles wide with many small bays and anchorages. Buzzards Bay was named by colonists after the birds they saw and called Buzzards. The birds are actually Ospreys, and some remain.

We had a relaxing two nights in Onset, a bay just to the southwest of the canal. We took the dinghy up some of the inlets and also spent some time getting used to the paddleboard. Going ashore with the bikes one day we found ourselves in the annual Cape Verdean Festival – With over 70 vendors, music and a great party atmosphere, groups of descendents from the Cape Verdes celebrate their heritage the other side of the Atlantic. Cape Verdean communities come from Florida, Texas, Georgia, Ohio and as far as Ontarion, Canada to join in the fun.

A short trip east took us to Phinney’s Harbour, another quiet pretty anchorage but with a little less to explore.

Leaving Phinney’s Harbour we headed for Fairhaven, a town on the east bank of the Acushnet River, directly opposite New Bedford on the west bank. Our reason for visiting here was to collect a spare skin fitting which might help us with our ongoing issue of the fridge losing gas.

There is a tidal barrage across the entrance of the river and having entered the river we could find nowhere to anchor for the night so left and anchored outside since the harbour master was not responding by radio or telephone. In the morning we called and were pleasantly surprised to hear that we could use one of the mooring buoys inside free of charge as long as we left before night time, and there was a dinghy dock we could use close by. How welcome we felt. We picked up the buoy and took the bikes ashore to collect the fitting and enjoy an afternoon exploring the towns. The New Bedford Whaling Museum was fascinating and even included a 30 minute movie – the first time we had been to a cinema for a long time!

We had arranged for some spare parts to enhance our battery monitoring to be delivered to Newport so we left the next day for the sail southwest. As Newport appeared in the distance we spotted a delightful looking bay that looked like it would give us a pleasant sheltered evening, so we changed our plans and dropped anchor off Third Beach, just north of Flint Point on the Sakonnet River.

The next morning we sailed the short distance west to Newport where we had first arrived in the USA a month or so earlier.

Since the large supermarket was right next to the place where our parts had been delivered to, Lesley was in her element re provisioning in a familiar store.

Previously in Newport we had visited one of the mansions and our ticket allowed us to visit a second one, so we duly took the opportunity to see more opulence at The Elms which was the summer residence of Mr. and Mrs. Edward Julius Berwind of Philadelphia and New York. Mr. Berwind made his fortune in the coal industry. In 1898, the Berwinds engaged Philadelphia architect Horace Trumbauer to design a house modeled after the mid-18th century French Chateau d’Asnieres outside Paris.

Construction of The Elms was completed in 1901 at a reported cost of approximately $1.4 million. The interiors and furnishings were designed by Allard and Sons of Paris and were the setting for the Berwinds’ collection of Renaissance ceramics, 18th century French and Venetian paintings, and Oriental jades.

Mrs. Berwind died in 1922, and Mr. Berwind invited his sister, Julia, to become his hostess at his New York and Newport houses.

Mr. Berwind died in 1936 and Miss Julia continued to summer at The Elms until her death in 1961, at which time the house and most of its contents were sold at public auction.

The Preservation Society of Newport County purchased The Elms in 1962 and opened the house to the public.

Sightseeing, shopping, ideas of grandeur and collections completed, it was time to start working further west into Long Island Sound.

After refuelling, we dashed across Newport entrance to Cuttyhunk in the Elizabeth islands in poor visibility. When we arrived early evening we anchored next to two boats we knew and settled in for an early night. In the morning we were completely fog bound and couldn’t even see Cuttyhunk which was only a few hundred feet away!

It was a ‘full English breakfast’ type of morning so after our brunch and a morning of catching up with work we were ready to explore.

The island only has about 35 permanent residents and the small museum depicts the basic lifestyle over the years. The nearby 75 acre Penikese island, has had a variety of uses. In 1904 it was purchased by the state of Massachusetts for $25000 to use as a leprosy hospital then closed in 1921 when the state burnt and dynamited the buildings! It was also briefly considered as an isolation island for people with AIDS and from 1973 to 2011 a private residential school on the island was used for juvenile detention of troubled boys and operated a substance abuse treatment programme.

We decided to leave late afternoon as the visibility was adequate and we had no wish to be fog bound again. This is a fairly typical weather pattern for the area. We had a pleasant sail, passing some of the other islands on route to Hadley harbour in convoy with two other boats, and on arrival even managed to russell up a meal for six. It was a beautiful setting with a few grand isolated and very private holiday homes. As the sun set a deer came down to explore the small sandy cove.

We moved from the outer harbour to the inner lagoon for the next night and explored the shallow creeks in the dinghy, deciding to leave the next afternoon for Martha’s Vineyard as the weather was benign and settled.

Martha’s Vineyard, a Massachusetts island, sits in the Atlantic just south of Cape Cod. A longtime New England summer colony, it encompasses harbor towns and lighthouses, sandy beaches and farmland. It’s accessible only by boat or air. Vineyard Haven, on the eastern end, is a ferry port and the island’s commercial centre. Another village, Oak Bluffs has Carpenter Gothic cottages and an iconic carousel.

We arrived mid afternoon and anchored in Vineyard Haven. We took a quick trip ashore to get our bearings and decided to eat ashore. We had a good meal in the Black Dog pub. The story is that Robert Douglas, born in Chicago in 1932 spent his childhood summers escaping the hustle and bustle of the city at his parents’ summer home in West Chop. He watched the Vineyard ferries traversing the waters between the island and the mainland and in 1960 he left the Air Force and built a topsail schooner for himself, using early construction techniques and materials wherever possible. He later acquired a black Labrador dog and the inn.

Out of his love for the sea, his island home, and of course, his dog, The Black Dog brand was born. So says their website!

We decide to sail the next day to Edgartown on the east side of the island to get a more protected spot away from the passing ferries.

We went up the river but found there was no anchoring allowed so returned to the outer harbour. Boats of all shapes and sizes, traditional and modern were here. Including one of the worlds largest super yachts called Le Grande Bleu. She is 113 m long, 18m wide and comes complete with a helicopter pad, 72 foot sailing yacht and 68 foot motor boat, both of which can be winched into the water! Originally owned by Roman Abramovich, he reputedly gifted it to a colleague, when he bought a larger one!

We met up with some fellow ARC sailors on Supertramp who were planning to sail north to Maine. We swapped details on experiences so far and plans for the future, including potentially getting our boat wrapped and updating equipment over the remainder of the summer.

We enjoyed the facilities at The Edgartown Yacht Club which perpetuates the maritime traditions of Martha’s Vineyard and Edgartown and encourages friendly competition on the waters around the Island and ashore which was founded in 1905. The social life of the Club – so creative and active today – began in these earliest years with clambakes and old-fashioned ice cream socials.

Those first few years of the twentieth century were a time of great change in the town of Edgartown. The whaling era, which had come to a sudden end after the Civil War, still animated the memories of the oldest inhabitants, and family vacationing through the summer season, as we know it now, was some years away.

We took the bus to explore the island because apparently cycling can be a little risky on the island! We went to the Gay Head light, which had had to be moved to stop it falling into the sea from the eroding Aquinnah Cliffs — the clay cliffs, formerly known as Gay Head — were carved by glaciers millions of years ago. From the top we could see the Elizabeth islands we had previously been to.  The Aquinnah Cliffs are part of the island’s Wampanoag reservation.

The Wampanoag are one of many Nations of people all over North America who were here long before any Europeans arrived, and have survived until today. Wampanoag, means People of the First Light.

In the 1600s, there were as many as 40,000 people in the 67 villages that made up the Wampanoag Nation. These villages covered the territory along the east coast as far as Wessagusset (today called Weymouth), all of what is now Cape Cod and the islands of Natocket and Noepe (now called Nantucket and Martha’s Vineyard, pursuing a traditional economy based on fishing and agriculture.

We left Bermuda at 09:00 on Thursday 29 June. We arrived in Newport, Rhode Island, USA, another previous home of the Americas Cup, after sailing for just under 4 days on Monday 3 July at 07:00.

The hazy view and the eary sound of the fog horn on Beaver Tail Point lighthouse guided us into Newport where we anchored in Brenton Cove, where you can anchor for free outside the moorings for up to 14 days. After a quick tidy up we contacted the customs office to organise our customs and immigration clearance.

We were given several options of docks to take the boat into to meet the customs officer who would do the paperwork and potentially search the boat for items that are not allowed to be brought into America. We chose Perrotti Park, a dock which turned out to be very easily accessible and where we met another British boat also waiting for customs. The customs clearance was quick and easy – too quick unfortunately as the customs officer, who was new in her job, despite taking our money omitted to issue our cruising permit, a document legally required when cruising in the US. (Eventually after many phone calls and emails we did get a copy, but it took several days)

It always surprises us how friendly everyone is in the long term cruising world. A chance encounter provided an invitation to sundowners that evening and the opportunity to meet other cruising boats who had previously crossed the Atlantic in a different rally called the Barbados 500. We had briefly met most of these boats in Bermuda just before we left – they left together the night before us. Their occupants provided a new social circle and the opportunity to learn about other destinations, intentions and experiences.

Having cleared customs we returned to the anchorage and started by cleaning up the boat and getting settled for some time exploring, plus some sleep.

We had hoped to make it to Bristol to see one of the oldest 4th July parades in the states, however we were quite tired from the journey and woke up too late to catch the bus to make the best of the day. Instead we watched an amazing fireworks show from the boat which was one of the best spots in the harbour.

Although American independence from British rule is widely and happily celebrated there was no animosity towards us joining in the party. Houses and boats were cheerily dressed in red white and blue. Everyone was enjoying the holiday atmosphere and the events.

Newport has a a holiday atmosphere and although it is clearly centred around sailing there are plenty of other activities too. We spent almost a week here acclimatising to living in America.

There was the visit to the chandlery to purchase charts for the area, several very good bike rides with a handy leaflet marking routes, cliff walks, beaches, surfing and several historic houses to visit and also there was the opportunity to provision the boat at a fraction of the cost of in the Caribbean.

We spent a happy half day at the Breakers Mansion on Orchre Point Avenue – the grandest of many huge mansions, learning about the 1890s summer cottage, it’s construction and lifestyle.

Commissioned and owned by Cornelius Vanderbilt II, whose family fortune was made in steam ships and later in the New York Central railroad. The mansion was built in the Italian renaisance style with lots of excess, gold gilt and platinum on the walls and ceilings.

Lavish parties and the importance of being seen and dressed for the occasion were clearly the order of the day, with the women of the household changing outfits five times a day for different activities. It was a totally different world for the rich families of the gilded era.

We used the bikes to explore and shop for provisions. The more or less flat environment was a welcome change after the volcanic hills and narrow roads of the Caribbean which made cycling impractical.

We had Sunday lunch at the New York yacht club’s Newport base. A lovely old house with a commanding presence and view over Newport Sound and the anchorage.

After a few days we decided to explore the rest of the estuary and sailed up to Bristol for a visit to the Herreshoff museum.

We were able to pick up one of their free buoys and also got a discount on the entrance fee for coming by boat! A very interesting exhibition and the opportunity to look inside some of the old vessels built by the talented brothers.

We spent the night in Potter Cove, on Prudence Island,  a wonderful national estuarine sanctuary with an abundance of green grass and variety of trees, another reminder of home and a complete contrast to the Caribbean.

It was time to move on so we left early to exit the river via Dutch harbour and purchase some fuel from a commercial fish quay at Galilee, in Judith’s point harbour. This was the cheapest place for refuelling our 1000 litre capacity fuel tanks, so worth the slight detour west before continuing east again towards the Elizabeth Islands.

The random names here are great. Most have been copied from English towns and villages, based on their heritage and the area was very reminiscent of Beaulieu, with the large houses set in sweeping lawns only ending at the river bank and their private jetties.

Even the weather was cooler and variable much like England! The main difference is the size, everything is bigger! It is New England, USA.

St. George’s is a lovely quaint town which used to be the capital of Bermuda. It has lots of history and it’s great to wonder around and read the information plagues and follow the trails.

The main square has free wifi and most sailors seem to gather with computers, iPads or phones to connect to the outside world. We exchanged wifi codes with others and compared where the best speeds could be found. One girl who was boat hopping her way back home and about to leave for the Azores happily shared the local knowledge she had gained while she had been on the island. There was an immediate sense of community not just within the visiting sailors but the locals have been fantastically welcoming and helpful here.

Bermuda is made up of lots of islands joined together by roads and an old railway track.  It is divided into nine parishes. Everyone is happy, perhaps because they have the highest per capita income in the world!

We walked across the tip, to  gorgeous beaches and views. We snorkeled, picnicked and came back for ice cream!

The next day we ventured into Hamilton on the bus. A system where the price is calculated on the number of zones you go through to your destination. You purchase a token at a participating shop for the fare which is cheaper than paying on the bus.  Alternatively you need the exact money if paying on the bus.

It was great to see more of the islands during the journey and arriving in the busy bustling city of Hamilton felt like we could have been in England with red pillar boxes etc. We collected our Americas Cup spectator boat flags and checked out facilities ahead of arriving here by boat later. Sampling a ‘Dark and Stormy’ in a bar with Goslings rum, as Bermuda is the home of the cocktail, felt like a must do!

After a few days in St. George’s resting, washing and exploring the East end of the island we  did a last shop in the supermarket in St. George’s called Sommers, which offers us a 5% discount on our groceries as a visiting yacht. Worth asking for if we visit again. Then we sailed around to Hamilton so that we were ready for the start of the racing. We also wanted to find a sheltered anchorage before some forecast windy weather was due to come through the next day.

We chose a likely spot in the designated anchorage but before we could settle in, a local launched his rib and came to see us, not to say that we could not anchor in front of his house, but to welcome us and impart local knowledge about the forecast, and the best sheltered place to be in the harbour. After exchanging telephone numbers and with the invitation for a beer later in the week we moved to Hinson’s Island, or ‘Cat Alley’ as we got to know it as, since it was the designated anchorage for the charter cats, which was a lovely spot to hide from the wind.

We were with friends on Nisida, and decided to leave one boat anchored and take the other out for the racing each day. We soon fell into a pattern leaving the anchorage at midday, sussing out the race area for the best place to view from and having lunch on board before the racing started.

Although not competing in the racing , no guess as to who started the sweepstake for the challenger series then the finals picking the results each day and culminating in prizes of Rum and Wine!

Whilst we watched from the boats most days, on Friday 2nd June we headed for the AC village to sample the racing from ashore and to get a close up of the boats. It provided a great atmosphere and well worth doing but not the same as being alongside the race course on the water.

The event was amazing, the locals incredibly friendly and we had a ball. We got to know the locals at Sandy Boat Club and met people who were supporting the race teams or involved with running the event such as the super yacht course marshal who invited us to the race area with the other ‘super’ yachts the following morning. Basically it was a six week party and one that will always be very close to our hearts. The 36th America’s Cup will be held in the southern hemisphere in the AC75, a fully foiling monohull in March 2021. The organisers will have to do something very special to match Bermuda.

We went to the top of the lighthouse, walked part of the disused railway, swam and snorkeled off the external reef, went underground to see the crystal caves, learnt about the rain water capture from the roofs, climbed and explored several old forts, danced in the streets with the Gombeys. We had visitors on board for short trips and meet and made some  great friends. We also learnt to paddleboard, so now we need to buy our own! And tried to kitesurf but had more success with the board as a wakeboard!

All too soon it came to an end. We wished friends a safe trip as we all headed off in different directions. Many back to Europe and ourselves and others, North to the USA for the summer.

Five years ago we experienced the phenomena locally known as the ‘Christmas Winds’ when we were sailing from Grenada to Cariacou. Caused by a big high pressure area to the northeast, winds typically blow from around 25 to 30 knots when the isobars get tight.

As the post ARC parties ended we knew these were building but we also knew we had a deadline to get to Antigua where we had family joining us for Christmas. Having just sailed nearly 3000 miles, how tough could a few short hops up island to Antigua be, despite the winds? Tougher than we had expected was the short answer!

Our first hop was St Lucia to Le Marin on Martinique. Chosen for the ease of provisioning due to the fact that the supermarket at Le Marin has its own dinghy dock where you can take the shopping trolley straight to the dinghy. Very important when using the opportunity to stock up with French wine. Having refueled in St Lucia we set out late morning for what was expected to be a slowish windward bash of just over 20 miles. Everything was stowed securely after a few weeks in harbour and the spare sails were lashed to the deck.

After about an hour of getting thoroughly soaked by spray, as we pounded into the waves, we were experiencing some pretty large short steep seas coming straight over the bow and sluicing down the deck. Trying to get as close to the wind as possible we now had two reefs in the mainsail and the genoa and we were also running the engine to try and minimize the time until we got into the shelter of Martinique. Lesley was not coping well being sea sick despite the precautionary patch and nervous of the sea state. We were hit all of a sudden by a couple of massive waves which broke over the foredeck and brought a wall of green water several feet deep straight back over the coachroof towards the cockpit obscuring foreward visibility for a split second. As the water drained away we spotted the two old spare sails, that had been lashed on the foredeck, slipping straight under the leeward guardrail and landing in the sea beside us. They had torn free from their webbing straps with the weight of the water.

The next 20 to 30 minutes was a salutary lesson in how difficult it is to retrieve anything from the water in these conditions. We did recover the old genoa, it took several attempts but the mainsail sank and has not been seen since! What we learnt was that although we could get back to the semi submerged sail, which was drifting quite easily, staying near it long enough to hook it, and attach something too it was very difficult. For what its worth, we eventually dropped all sails and salvaged it under engine. In those winds and seas the traditional techniques we all learn for man overboard recovery under sail proved just too tricky. However had it been an unconcious person in the water, approaching and holding station under engine, would not have been an attractive proposition at all due to the risk of injury. The sail weighs approximately 75kg dry, so not far off the weight of an average person so it was quite a realistic exercise in man overboard recovery – difficult enough with two people on board, but it would have been far more difficult if it was one of us.

Sail recovered, we re-hoisted the working sails and motorsailed to Le Marin where we dropped anchor, tidied up the boat and went to bed exhausted.

Whilst the supermarket was very convenient the next day, in retrospect we could have made our previous day much easier on ourselves by changing the destination to Fort De France which would have given us a much freer course – faster and more comfortable, with the added bonus that the next leg would have been shorter. Oh well we live and learn!

The next afternoon we sailed in the lee of the island to St Pierre on the north west coast – an easy sail, and an ideal kicking off point for Dominica the next day. The anchorage at St Pierre is on a shallow shelf which does not extend far off the beach so effectively you get a row of anchored boats but only stacked one deep – the shelf is not wide enough for two rows before dropping off into water too deep for most of us to anchor. One of the risks of anchoring is dragging the anchor – where when the forces on the anchor move it from where it is dug into the sea bed. In this situation it can break out and not reset, effectively just dragging along the seabed as the boat floats away! To minimise the chances of this we almost always lay out a lot of chain (normally 5 times the depth from bow roller to sea bed, or more if there is expected to be high winds and a chop) and having set the anchor we reverse against it at fairly high rpm (2000 rpm) to ensure that its bedded in hard and fast. When we go to sleep we often set an anchor alarm – a gps device that has a preset distance that you set, that if exceeded an alarm goes off. Now if you consider that with 60m of chain out and the anchor alarm at the back of a 17m boat even if the anchor does not move, but the wind changes direction and the boat swings around, the gps can move through a distance of over 140m we normally want to know before we have moved that far so we set a much smaller alarm distance and accept that we will be woken occasionally by change of wind or tide (not such an issue in the Caribbean as it was in Europe). Our anchor alarm is great because it shows a track of where the boat has travelled since being set on a little screen so its easy to tell the difference between dragging and just merely swinging around the anchor.

That evening with anchor alarm set to just 50m we went to bed but were woken by the alarm at about 1 am. Taking a look around, it was clear that the wind had died and was going round in circles. We, like the boats around us, were just swinging to whatever breeze there was. However, one nearby catamaran seemed a lot closer than it was before – not uncommon with boats swinging in different directions, but this was not comfortable.

Checking again after about 15 minutes it was clear that things were not right. In relationship to all the other boats we remained fairly static but this one catamaran  was definately coming to meet us! Our choices were to try and wake the cat crew or move. We decided the latter was the easiest for us, however having we could not find a suitable gap to re-drop the anchor so eventually Lesley suggested we just move on – after all we had had a couple of hours sleep!

We set sail north, Derek taking the first stint until we got into the shelter of Dominica then Lesley took over and sailed us up the Western shore. By daylight we had passed Dominica and decided to head to the beautiful Isles De Saintes – a tiny set of islands between Dominica and Guadeloupe. Arriving mid morning, we went ashore to check in and stretch our legs. It was a brief visit as we had to keep heading north but we had heard a lot about the islands and they did not disappoint – we would definitely be back to spend some more time here.

After an early lunch ashore, we set sail and had an uneventful trip to Guadeloupe. By evening, having gained ourselves a day by doing the overnight sail from Martinique to Isles de Saintes, we were a little more chilled and anchored in the lovely Deshaies bay, location of the TVs series death in paradise. We enjoyed watching the sunset over a sundowner or two. Just one more island hop and we would be in Antigua before our visitors touched down.

The trip to Antigua was equally uneventful. The winds had by now subsided a little and our course was a bit freer so we were averaging some pretty high speeds with comfortable sailing – just how we had envisaged Caribbean sailing. By mid afternoon we had made it with a day to spare. We anchored outside Jolly Harbour, halfway up the western shore and arrived in time to clear in.

For those not so familiar with Caribbean sailing clearing an and out is something that has to be done every time you sail between islands belonging to different nations (and sometimes even between those that belong to the same nation). The process can be painless (in the case of most French islands it is normally done at a single computer terminal in a shop, bar or intenet cafe), or it can be a long frustrating affair (Barbuda involves three different offices in three different corners of the capital town). What often surprises us is the bureacracy and volume of paperwork that is involved. The principle is simple: The skipper must go ashore at the first opportunity and report to customs, immigration and port authority. Nobody else is allowed ashore until all formalities have been completed! In most ports the three offices are together or close by but it still involves a lot of toing and froing between the offices and the officers can be so grumpy!

In theory many of the islands use advanced web based clearance systems too which should speed up the process but our experience has been that although its a big time saver when they work, always worth doing in advance, many of the port authorities don’t know about them or don’t use them which is rather frustrating. There is often a fee and that can be trivial or huge depending on the islands. It can also be different on the same island (Jolly Harbour is cheaper than English Harbour in Antigua), Woe betied anyone arriving out of hours or over a weekend in some islands – the additional fees can be daylight robbery. In most places you also need your outbound clearance from your previous island in order to check in – if you haven’t got it you can’t come in so don’t forget to clear out. If you do lose it, head to a French island because its not needed there for check in, so the process gets reset!

One of the valuable things about crossing the Atlantic as part of a rally is the friendships that you make before and afterwards (and to a certain degree along the way on the radio nets). The crews on Emily Morgan, Nisida, La Contenta, Aurora Polaris and Ludanka were some of these.

Boats arrived into St Lucia over a period of about 10 days and on many days the arrivals had people on board that we knew, so that period became one of party after party. Not only the impromptu arrival parties, marking the arrival of each boat (day or night), but also World Cruising Club pre-arranged shore parties on the dock. We enjoyed the camaraderie from comparing and sharing experiences of our different ocean passages and supporting and helping each other to fix the inevitable breakages by loaning tools and muscle where needed.

The ARC arranged various events and trips, one to Anse La Raye for a fish fry evening arriving via a large catamaran.

The locals prepare their catch from the day in the streets, you wander the stalls and decide what you fancy to eat. Afterwards we browsed the market stalls and spent time talking to Anthony Cadasse.

We were impressed with his passion for his village and island. He told us of his ideas and his previous job as a ranger with the Hawksbill turtle Marine protection and  SMMA (Soufriere Marine Management Association).

In between arriving and the final closing ceremony and prize giving, we did take a brief overnight excursion to the lovely Marigot Bay, to mark Pete’s final night with us but other than that we stayed in Rodney Bay spending time with our new friends. We knew it would be all too soon that many would go their separate ways continuing their different adventures. Some we would meet up with again, and no doubt some will have been fleeting friendships, but still ones that will leave lasting memories.

The prize giving came all too soon and after an excellent evening with some very worthy winners getting their prizes – the most notable for acts of seamanship and selfless assistance to others, the day came to leave and head North up the island chain towards Antigua where we were to meet up with Derek’s mum for Christmas. However the weather was not on our side and we suspected it could be a challenge. Ironically having just sailed nearly 3000 miles across an ocean, the next 40 mile trip to Martinique was to be more unpleasant and more challenging than anything we faced in the Atlantic!

After checking out we were able to top up our fuel tank duty free. Jeffery at the fuel dock took our mooring lines and effortlessly secured them!

Our landfall in the Canary Islands was the tiny island of Graciosa, just 6.5 km by 3 km. Despite its small size it has 4 volcanic cones, almost as many cones as there are residents (not quite true, but its very quiet).

Graciosa lies just a mile or so north of Lanzarote, separated by a narrow stretch of water called the Estrecho del Rio, rumoured to be a route favoured by migrating pilot whales. Alas, we didn’t see any but the site of the 500m high almost vertical cliffs of Lanzarote on one side and the pretty island of Graciosa on the other was a site to behold. The harbour is a little small for our boat and we had already heard on the radio that it was full so we bypassed it and dropped anchor in the neighbouring bay. A total novelty to be able to see the anchor and chain on the sea bed in crystal clear turquoise water; a far cry from the muddy waters of the Solent!

Much of the island is protected by a marine reserve and we had applied for permission to anchor in the bay of Playa Francesca, the designated reserve bay but that looked very busy and the bay closest to the harbour was empty so we had it to ourselves. Later we discovered the reason – since our guide book was published, they had prohibited anchoring in the one we were in, so we upped anchor and joined the busy throng in the bay of Playa Francesca.

Ashore we took a walk into the island between the cones – there is no tarmac just a few dirt tracks and roads.

It was fascinating to explore and quite remarkable to see the lava dust covered in tiny white shells, not only on the shore line but up on the volcanic cones too. Apart from a few fenced off areas of vegetation, and some low lying plants Graciosa has little to spoil the natural look once you are outside the small settlements.

Back at the harbour we were surprised to find a small but well stocked supermarket, so we bought a few bits and pieces before returning to the boat.

At first light we left for the 205 NM trip to Agadir. This was seeing a familiar pattern by now, with preparation of a suitable meal for on passage and 3 hour watches during the hours of darkness. The saloon berth which we fitted a lee cloth to (a cloth side to stop you falling out as the boat rocks on the waves) was working well, allowing for off watch rest whilst still being available easily if needed for sail adjustment or support when avoiding the fishing fleets from Sadie. Fishing fleets have been a bit of a pain at times as we have travelled down the coasts of Spain and Portugal, but this particular fleet was a serious challenge. Whereas the European fleets have fairly consistent lights, this Moroccan fleet consisted of over 50 boats some with no lights, some with torches, some strobes and the occasional large one with normal navigation lights. With it being pitch black and foggy the radar was showing a multitude of possible targets and no apparent way of getting around them. We got through it without coming too close to any after a couple of hours and then the fog cleared a little bit and the moon came out so all was a little more peaceful.

Arrival at Agadir was very different, we were waved into a berth by the friendly marina berthing staff. Stern to mooring on a finger pontoon, a little short for us but ok, we braced the boat to ride the gentle swell that wrapped around the entrance. Electricity, wifi (at the top of the pontoon) and water meant we could spend a happy few days researching and catching up with friends and family and washing and tidying up the boat after her 800 or so miles since Porto.

Marina Agadir felt like Port Solent with a Moroccan twist and we celebrated our first rental income from the house reaching our bank account by having a fabulous meal out ashore at a restaurant called Pure Passion.

We had heard that their was a large supermarket and a good Souk (covered market) so we took the opportunity to get the bikes out and cycle to them . We filled our bags at the Souk with fruit and veg then continued to the supermarket and proceeded to do a mammoth shop which by necessity meant a taxi for our shopping, bikes and us for the trip back to the marina! At 30 Dirrams (£3) it was a bargain and we had food again.

We aimed to leave in the evening so arranged to check out and get fuel. Having been told by the marina staff that the fuel berth closed at 6. We arrived at 5 to find it closed… Apparently it was a fairly regular occurrence we were told by a local who had the operators number on his mobile phone. He tried in vain to get him to return but it was clear that unless we paid him 450 Dirrams (£45) he would not return! Our choice was to leave without fuel or stay another night and leave early the next morning. On balance we decided to stay. We arrived again at the fuel berth at 8am (the time we had been told it would open) to find it still closed. After a leisurely breakfast and boat prep we managed the task and left an hour and a half later than scheduled. Frustrating being given the wrong information however it was a good decision to stay for the refuel as Ocean Blue seems to have turned into a motor boat again for this trip.

Agadir has a fantastic opportunity to become a popular destination for the European boats heading South to the Canaries and a real alternative to the typical routes, but unfortunately the fuelling situation and the way it was handled by the marina staff left a rather bad taste in our mouths. Whilst their view was that the fuel berth was nothing to do with the marina, they might be correct, but from a visitor’s perspective, its in the marina and and if the marina staff say its open at a certain time, then is it really too much to ask for it to be open? When asked to register the issue with the harbour authorities, all the staff were interested in doing was securing another night’s berthing fees, although a compromise was begrudgingly reached. Thankfully the police were far more obliging having gone through the checkout procedure for the previous evening and ending up staying another day.

So this ended our visit to Morocco. A fantastic adventure, great places and despite a few inevitable frustrations, a country we can thoroughly recommend to fellow sailors.

Once clear of the Moroccan coast leaving the fishing boats and floating rubbish behind, the open sea was a welcome change from harbour.

A shower and hair wash followed by blow drying in the warm wind with a cup of tea made us feel refreshed and relaxed.

Seven hours out we saw a small whale on the surface, Lesley’s first time seeing the blow of water. Several dolphins joined us briefly, the smooth expanse of sea making it breathtaking to watch them jumping through the swell towards us from some distance off.

Another 24 hours and we would be in the Canary Islands…

We left Mohammedia early before dawn. As dawn broke we still couldn’t see much as there was a heavy mist with visibility less than half a mile. As we approach Casablanca there was a city of cargo ships at anchor which we could see on the AIS and then loomed into view as we got nearer to each one.

The Hassan II mosque, the tallest religious buildiung in the world, and the most westerly of the muslim world appeared to float in the clouds as we passed it.

We still had no wind and saw very little of note until we arrived at El Jadida at 15.50 as the fishing fleet was departing for their evenings work. We entered the tiny harbour and jostled with the steady stream of fishing boats that were leaving. There appeared to be only room for one boat to anchor inside the harbour walls without causing chaos, below the remains of the Portuguese walled fort in a deep water pool.

We had read that you had to go to the ‘Yacht Club to check in, and before we had a chance to do so there was loud whistling and gesticulation from a figure on the wall. We launched the dinghy and took the documents to the shore where the gesticulating man was very welcoming and took me through the locked yacht club premises, carefully re locking the gate to the harbour office where his part of the process was performed. He finished by giving me directions to immigration and the police to perform their duties and giving me a key for the duration of our stay to re-enter the yacht club! The walk to the immigration (or anywhere else outside the yacht club) involved a tour around three sides of the fishermen’s inner harbour, where nets were being repaired and loaded with fish heads in preparation for the night’s fishing.

Once again there were small barbeques cooking what looked like sardines all over the place, feeding the hungry fishermen. To say the area had an odour of fish was an understatement, but the many cats of all shapes and sizes seemed to love it!

The following day we explored the town. Just to the west oif the harbour the old Portugese walled town was fascinating. Apparently it used to be surrounded by a moat, but this has since been filled in, but the battlements still remain complete with many cannons. Central to the walled town is the cistern – a huge underground ‘room’, with a hole in the centre of the ceiling. In days gone by this became filled with rain water and provided a source of water for the rest of the town.

From the top of the wall, you could look down onto the boatyard, where fishing boats were being repaired after being hauled out of the water up tracks, and new boats were being built – all with hand tools and small antique power tools.

To the East of the harbour is the contrasting of beach resort; Western style cafes and hotels along a wide expanse of parkland footpaths. After a stroll along the foggy beach front we settled into one of the cafes for a nice French Moroccan style breakfast.

We headed inland a few blocks and found downtown El Jadida where the locals shop and bought fresh veg and fruit to top up our fridge but passed on the meat being sold by the street butchers!

The guide books had said it was nice to support the small restaurant on top of the yacht club so in the evening we went ashore. Slightly bizarrely although its situated on the first floor of the yacht club there was no way in without leaving through the locked gate (for which we had a key), walking around the fishing harbour, out to the main town then along the main road and back down a dark grit road to the bottom of a staircase no more than a metre from where we started!

On leaving, we were very tempted to climb the fence to save the 3/4 mile walk and asked permission. The response from the waiter was to shout for ‘Rashid’ the gatekeeper mentioned in the guide book, who duly arrived some the shadows with a whole wad of keys and duly opened the gate, and the gate to the pontoon, which avoided teetering along the dockside outside the railings, which we had had to do every time we went ashore until then. All in all a strange experience but enjoyable none the less.

We returned to the boat and settled in for our last night there since we were leaving for Agadir the next day.