Day 23
After a night on the tiles, much pummelling and cajoling of possessions into their respective holdalls, the bleary eyed Crew have left for the airport. They leave a real hole having been such good company; good for each other and good for us, able and willing to jump to whatever the ask or the need. Still a few bits of ‘work in progress’ such as rebooting the default setting to refilling the water bottles so we maintain the supply of cooled water in the fridge – rather than abandoning them and hoping they will magically refill themselves. But when all’s said and done, both Anthony and Paul jointly and severally have been the crew others can only dream of. Malcolm and I consider ourselves incredibly lucky to have had their company and goodwill these past 4 weeks. Thank you Anthony and Paul!
Sukama and we are now onward bound towards Tazacorte, La Palma, the destination we’d initially anticipated before the windless slow slow slow days determined otherwise. Now fully refuelled for this next adventure we find ourselves motoring again, but without the concerns of before as this journey is a mere 720 miles, which Sukama can motor and still have half a tank of fuel left over. We’re making way as if in a bubble. We are enveloped by thick fog which comes and goes with varying degrees of intensity so we are reliant on the radar for knowledge of others out here. It is our eyes and imperative. Without it we would be blind.
There’s always something comforting about speaking with both Anthony and Jen on the same day at around the same hour. With all well in their worlds I can feel more comfortable and relaxed in mine. This was the case today, though admittedly Donna, not Jen. It had been an age since we last had direct contact but it’s incredibly important to check in and make sure that we’re all up to speed and on the same page. Over many years we have come to understand that transparency and honesty are the necessary ingredients which enable any of us to support each other. We remain indebted to Donna and her team of dedicated carers who make it look so easy. Without them it would be impossible for us to live our lives, and Jen would not be Jen bringing her infectious sparkle and energy to events, performances, conferences, workshops and board meetings! Tomorrow we hope to speak with Jen herself.
Dolphins have made us smile today, fog has forced us to watch the radar screen attentively, unexpected protrusions from the ocean bed caught me by surprise, delicious food has titivated the taste buds, and always always, being on the open sea with it’s vast expanse of water gives me an amazing sense of liberation – not tied to the pontoon, to the ocean bed, or to the ever present demands of life on land.
This morning we have 100% cloud cover, stratus clouds in every direction creating a mottled sky. The fog has cleared. It’s almost eerily quiet. If I was looking at Dulux paints it would be predominantly dove grey. The sea is placid, calm, liquid in motion with the undulations embellished with additional ripples at 90 degrees to the gentle wind of 5knots from the south west. We move sedately, gently, quietly at 3 knots without disturbing the tapestry of the surrounding sea. Dolphins have just joined us. Sometimes they come to play on the bow wave, sometimes they weave in and out inviting us to down tools and go and watch their dance, other times they stand off and match our pace whether fast or slow, and others they just carry on by minding their own business. They never fail to capture our attention. Not to mention the passing whale who slid silently by behind us just 10 minutes ago.
8am and it’s quiet. No Paul, no Anthony, no presence in the fore peak. When not being used by others for accommodation, the fore peak becomes storage space. Today it is neither making us feel like empty nesters perhaps, but not for long. I’m sure we’ll easily reclaim the space with countless and varied chattels!
Day 24
One minute we have a firmament of twinkling stars and a vibrant moon which flooded the saloon with light at 1.40am, the next there is nothing but darkness as they’ve all been obliterated by clouds.
It’s 3.30am now and Sukama feels like training for riding a bucking broncho in spite of still have no wind. With the sea up we hope the wind will follow soon.
The system around food and cooking – chef for the day – worked so well with the 4 of us on board, we thought we’d try to keep it going. With yesterday being Malcolm’s turn he valiantly stepped up to the task, only to find that it was asking the impossible! Asking that after the 2am – 8am watch he then rustled breakfast, lunch and dinner, AND was well rested for the 8pm – 2am watch. It wasn’t going to happen when I thought it through, so whilst he was out for the count late afternoon/early evening I used his ingredients of choice and prepared dinner. We think the answer is to run a two day cycle based around 2am – 8am, 2pm – 7pm, 8pm – 2am. We’ll see how that goes today.
Yesterday we found ourselves motoring again after we’d attempted to sail for 12hours making 3 knots SOG if we were lucky. At that rate it was going to take more than twice as long to cover the distance. Motoring incessantly on a sailing yacht just doesn’t feel right but we do at least have real options with the luxury of a full tank of diesel, and to be fair, we’ve already sailed the Atlantic. This section is really a side hustle delivery trip.
And then there was last night. I’d decided that you’ll have had more than your fill of me eulogising over yet another fabulous sunrise or beautiful sunset, but last night was special in such a different way being now just Malcolm and me. We gazed in awe. We drank in with our eyes and with our hearts until we could drink no more. And we chatted about our future. How could we ever stop doing this? Being on the ocean and all that that means from the benign to the challenging, and being surrounded by thousands of miles of unending open water. Could we ever be happy living anywhere that didn’t have a view over open water? Could we contemplate a future without a floating home? And could we ever be anything other than nomadic? So many imponderables only the passage of time will hold the answers to. For now we continue to dream from the vantage point of a speck on the ocean lapping up the enormity of this extraordinary moment.
Day 25
Day 25 from Azores to Canaries
Less than 450 miles to go to Tazacorte! Unlike yesterday we’ve made real progress today sailing since 6am. It’s now 9pm, the sun has just dipped and the legacy of oranges and pinks are gradually dimming as night closes in. But mustn’t complain. We had thought that we may well be motoring by now, but instead we’re bowling along happy as Larry fore reaching in 9.5 knots of wind making 7.5 knots boat speed – nothing to be ashamed of there. The traveller is well up its tracks and the back stay is eased. George is taking bit of a back seat with minimal work to do. Sukama is cutting the waves at about 30 degrees, they’re mostly less than 0.5 metre high but as ever there’s always the odd rogue one which leaves us slightly off balance.
Today may well be the only sailing day of this leg but we will have achieved our mission in order that we can put Sukama to bed prior to her coming out of the water for 3 months whilst we’re back in the UK and stretching our legs in the Rockies on our long planned sojourn to spend July in Colorado. They say you go for the winters but stay for the summers. We’re glad to have found an opportunity to go and experience summertime there.
I confess that I have been bone idle all day long. I did prepare and eat breakfast and lunch, and eat dinner, and drink a few cups of tea. Poor Malcolm, I have been horizontal with my eyes closed almost the entire day through leaving him to man the fort. Either the relentless demands on brain and physical stamina, or the sadness of saying goodbye to Anthony and Paul, or both have caught up with me. But thankfully my batteries are now fully recharged and I feel fine 2 hours into this night watch.
1130pm …..and then the fun began. Full rig pulling well. Until it wasn’t.
We were making good way in minimal wind. Wind died. Sails flap. Wind dances around the dial. Sails flap more. The challenge – To act right away or give it a short while to sort itself out. I took the latter option. Then decided it was no return. 1140pm Malcolm now awake and has appeared in the cockpit. Wants to help and can almost always see any blindingly obvious omissions – very annoying! All sails in – 3rd reef then decided to drop the mainsail. 1150pm wind pipes up again and stronger than before but has inherited a quaint custom of dancing around the dial. Watched for a while. 1200am decided to try headsail only. Then with the engine and sail. No on both counts. Finally settled on engine alone. And more backstay. By 1am. San Pellegrinos all round. Wind instruments continued to pirouette around the dials. Down to 4 knots, up to 12 knots. Back in the grip of the iron horse, but was the right decision. So what time should Malcolm take over the watch? Should have been 2am but has lost 1.5hours and probably the best sleep. He says 3am. I say 4am to which he says that then I’ll be sleep deprived. Always a conundrum!
I hope you continue to enjoy these comments whosoever they come from, except sadly the AC/DC fuelled ones from The Crew have drawn to a natural conclusion with a cheery ‘Out’ as they return to their day jobs. Until the next time.
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Team members: Malcolm, Sue, George the autopilot, Charlie our weather router (Paul and Anthony left the adventure in the Azores)
Pete and T-J are in the UK receiving and sharing our updates via the wonders of satellite.
Photos and videos from previous crossings by Sukama.