Onward to the Cape Verdes
22:16.30N 20:50.47W
“Get down there woman and write a blog I want to do the weather after your done,” Rob said with humour! So here I am.
Night three, flat sea, no waves no swell and pure progress with little else but ahead motion. Henry has taken a rest because he swings a wide arc when the wind is light and our Diva cruising chute does not like that. So we are helming. The Diva likes the limelight (direct wind onto her shimmering blue fabric) and when the mainsail masks her from direct wind she fusses and flounces around in her satin and chiffon sounding dress until she gets her own way. But when she does the rewards are great. So the mainsail is tucked away for now.
She’s out there now making a silk purse from a sow’s ear of light winds, 5 – 6 knots speed in 8 – 10 knots wind speed.
Day 3 gave us 100 miles progress and day 4, yesterday, just 66 miles in no more than 6 knots of wind for 24 hours. At 15.40 yesterday we entered the Tropics and at 03.27 this morning we reached the half way mark to the Verdes.
Today, Day 5, we are flying the Diva with the Mainsail and that possibly sounds like a contradiction to what I said before but the drop of 6mbs on the barometer showed more wind coming and we wanted to make as much hay as possible before reefing. Optimism battled with common sense. At present the wind is 6.3 knots and we are moving at 3.5 knots.
Young clear plastic jellyfish pass by like solitary bubbles and what looks like a lifeless sea during the day, at night reveals flashing lights of the sea creatures all around. Fish have still eluded our line, although I nearly caught one this morning but he got away, honest! The Diva is showing a rare tolerance of her flying partner!
200 miles to go to the Cape Verdes 14.12.15.
There are particular advantages of being on a run; Zoonie stays level so cupboard doors can be opened without risk of being bruised by jars and bottles taking on the will of flight. Today we caught a large Wahoo which will last us two days. Hmm, how to make it appetising.
A rummage through one of the aforementioned cupboards brought to light a packet of what looked like fish sauce. The instructions were interesting, 1 Tom pulveret i en kasserolde og tilsett 4dl vann og 1 dl flote. Ok now this looked vaguely familiar. Turn the packet over and the name gave it away, “Bergensk Fiskesaus”. We would have Nordic sauce with our fish, and I thought of our friends who live in that lovely, empty country.
Helming through the night. Henry took the night off as he was finding the variations in wind force and direction hard to cope with. Zoonie sliced through the water in a cloak of white foam. The diva cruising chute had the stage to herself with the main tucked away and in full voice she bellowed blue and beautiful, her hold on the boat via the clew and sheet (of music) was a full 15 feet clear of the hull. I disciplined the wheel to keep Zoonie between 195’ and 205’ (something Henry could not do) and we just sped on through the dark at 5 knots on a level stage.
Towards the end of my watch I sensed a change in the water and wind. Zoonie was reaching 6 knots and the steering was becoming difficult as the diva reached her wind tolerable climax. So up came Rob for his watch, on went the decklights and down came the chute in a well-honed routine of my releasing the sheet so the snuffer (“I’ve snuffed it dear,” ”Really, you look alright to me.”) safely encased the fragile sail material like a falling stage curtain and the genoa and main took over the job and were set ready in case the wind increased. Sod’s law of course, the wind dropped and we could have listened to the diva all night, but then enough can be quite enough.
15.12.15. Whales blowing on both sides of us as they move north, a reversal to last year when we were heading north from the Azores and they were of south to bear their young. We see the first clouds in six days – fine weather cirrus and high white clouds marbled against the blue sky.
During the night the wind is indecisive and the sea state confused. We tacked to provide a more direct, and as it turned out, comfortable course in 12 knots of wind.
16.12.15. With the coming of dawn everything is damp. Humidity is 70% and the decks and surfaces look as if they have been rained on. We are damp too. The wind has dropped so we hoist the spinnaker and as I speak Zoonie is gliding along with a gentle roll and 4 plus knots of speed in 6 to 8 knots of wind. Because the spinnaker is free to fly, unlike the white sails, it has an immense capacity to steady Zoonie’s hull motion. It takes the knocks so to speak.
If we can keep up the present speed we should be in Mindelo on Friday, as expected 8 days after leaving the Canaries, but then it doesn’t pay to speculate in this game.
Landfall Mindelo
Night 7. We met the NE Trades which will carry us the rest of the way across the North Atlantic from about the 28th when we set out again, but for now we cross them to spend Christmas tied alongside in Mindelo. Zoonie perked up to six knots in response.
Two beautiful flying fish landed on deck. The first Rob spotted when it was too late to return him live to his home. But the second flopped so loudly onto the side deck just behind Rob’s ear his on board experience was a short one. Funny, we have caught two big fish on this trip, enough for four evening meals, but would we consider frying a flying fish, not as yet.
We have the company of another yacht heading the same way and have seen our first ship in 6 days.
Sitting star gazing I wondered how the little gull fared after we returned it to its home and left him floating as normal with his head up. I held it as Rob gently released the hook from its neck. Its dome of soft white feathers, pale yellow beak, black beady eyes and black webbed feet to match. I hoped he didn’t pay with his life for his understandable mistake. We felt bad but the fishing goes on.
4.00am. We passed the latitude 019’N at which Kirsty and I and the rest of the ship’s crew aboard the Stavvy turned for Barbados on 24.01.04.
Day 8. 17th December and we must think about our landfall. The pilot warns against nocturnal landfalls and wrecks, some afloat and some sunk, still dot the harbour at Mindelo and although anchored ships are lit the wrecks are not. It is best to treat the bay as if bordered with reefs, enter in the day and keep sharp lookout.
So with 99 miles to go and we have to SLOW DOWN ZOONIE, she won’t like that. More than four knots of speed and we may have to turn around for a while. The main and genoa look uncanny, reefed in a light wind. The rolling sea was a taste of what was to come with our crossing but Zoonie’s roll is more extreme than uncomfortable.
I cut non-slip matting from a roll and lay it on the galley surface areas. Bliss, and control.
Day 9. Rob sees the peak of Pico da Cruz (1584m) on San Antao, the island to the west of Sao Vicente (Mindelo) where we are heading. We are only five miles from shore and all we can see is a mountain peak above the haze formed by dust from the African interior blown on a hot dry wind of 17 knots plus and known as the Harmattan. This wind can extend for 600 miles from the African coast and reduces visibility here to 50 metres, in our experience 2 miles. The pilot says the islands never have fog, because fog is cloud at ground level and there are rarely any clouds around here. The wind is known to funnel down between the islands at up to 40 knots, but we experienced little increase from 15 knots we had been getting.
Sailing in on a bearing of 215’ we turned left in towards the anchored freighters and the very visible white cruise liner and slowly all was revealed. Two marineros in a red boat came out to us and when Rob mentioned Zoonie was unladylike in reverse they let us moor alongside in exactly the same corner berth we had occupied in the Challenger a few years before when Charly and her brother Jonty were with us.
Marina formalities were soon completed and as we walked ashore along the wide concrete pier Umberto (self-employed gopher) came to meet us. This is the form because many young men are unemployed and one way of earning money is to guide newcomers. He showed us the Immigration office and the Maritime Police Office next door and when we returned to the pier end he met us again and took us around the main town area. Umberto showed us food shops, restaurants and bars and as I type his mum is doing our not inconsiderable pile of washing, supposedly using only a wash board! Watch this space on the results!
We had a tasty lunch in Club Nautico then returned for a rest aboard.
Our trip brought us 858 miles DOG (distance over the ground) from the satellite and 834 through the water so we obviously had 24 miles free from the Canaries Current. Our maximum wind had been 20 knots briefly. The engine was on for 19 hours mostly out of gear for manoeuvring and battery charging purposes. We loved the trip because the winds were fair, the weather beautiful, and we had plenty of opportunity to fly the spinnaker and chute.