San Miguel Marina
Tenerife
28:01.17N 16:36.89W
11th November. Parting of the waves.
We watched as the Norwegian yacht headed south and we slid over disturbed water towards the south end of Tenerife. Zoonie didn’t like the uneven rolling motion so Rob set the main and immediately she steadied herself. I went below for a snooze and was aware, a few minutes later, that we were healing somewhat.
“Barbs we need to reef, winds over 18 knots and rising.” We set a tiny amount of foresail and reefed in the main to match the foresail size and settled down opposite eachother in the cockpit – for the night.
For the rest of the 50 miles we had 24 – 28 knots of wind and Zoonie loved it, we decided to stay up in the cockpit and enjoy her idea of fun. If Zoonie had her way she would pitch up and down in these conditions enabling us to rest below but the passages between the islands are not only funnels for the water and winds but if the water were drained away would reveal a complex of mountains, gulleys and reefs that lead to a very confused sea state as the mass of water is forced around and up and down. So much for the funneling winds dropping at night.
For a few moments Zoonie’s progress would be constant and steady, then a tall wave would slap her stern, spin her and give Henry the Hydrovane a hard task bringing her back on course. She didn’t heel too far because she only had a little sail area unlike the Stavvy as we crossed these same waters back in 2007 on the voyage I mentioned recently, when I met Rob.
This stretch of water, between Gran Canaria and Tenerife is the windiest and most turbulent in the islands and one evening we started out on our tall ship with a wind Force 5 forecast. So the ‘on’ watch, mine, set to releasing buntlines allowing the square sails to fall and take up the wind. Meanwhile the foresail halyards and sheets were also being hauled upon so those sails would draw us forward and as close to the NW wind as we could go.
A few minutes later an almighty wind reached us and the Stavvy started to heel well over. In the fading light I could see from my position by the helm that her fore course yard was dipping almost to horizon height. Captain Roy Love came on deck and exasperated said “Barb it’s supposed to be a five, where has this Force 10 come from?” We gathered in the midship area called the ‘waist’, because its runs from one side to the other.
The bosun, Ben, addressed us. “We have to reduce sail quickly before they rip, I am asking for volunteers, you do not have to climb but we will be glad of your help.” Ben and I did the port side of the fore course while two other crew worked with us on the other side of the mast, hand over hand heavy sail material being pulled up until it could be tipped into the last fold and tied in place with the buntlines, not the prettiest stow but at least the sail would not tear. Soon the job was done but the wind persisted all night and more excitement was to come.
Under engine alone we were trying to enter the harbour on El Hierro. Rob was on the helm on approach when Captain Roy came out to him and said “I know you are perfectly capable of doing this Rob but I am not prepared to give you the responsibility,” so we both stood back and watched as the engineer, on the orders of Captain Roy, put the helm fully one way and then fully the other way to give her forward motion while the storm was blowing at right angles across the mouth of the tiny harbour. The purser was recording all the commands and at the end of the evening she counted over 1100 given by the captain before we were safely tied up alongside the harbour wall. I asked the engineer how he had faired through such prolonged physical exertion, “My back’s killing me” was his pained reply.
Forward to 2015 and with only 50 miles or so to go we let Zoonie run along at 6 plus knots knowing that we would arrive too soon and have to turn around and bide time for a few hours before the light of dawn would make harbour entry safe.
How long did that dawn take to break! Six thirty, no sign, 7.30, no sign. We had seen the airport lights, 5km north of the marina, when only 10 miles out of Mogan and they guided us all the way across, but there was many a rocky headland twixt airport and marina. We just had to wait.
Just after 9.00am Zoonie was sitting happily on station (holding her position) outside and we radioed Rafael in the marina office. He answered immediately, which is always reassuring. “Wait please, we have cat fuelling up,” an hour later “Ok our staff will help you on the fuel pontoon, big Polish yacht, alongside him please”. Topped up with diesel we motored straight into the marina towards the boatyard at the end and rafted up alongside Mervyn Wheatley aboard Tamarind.
When in Gran Tarajal we took Mervyn’s lines as he brought his 42 footer in single handed. At that time he mentioned how he was going to have to make sure his prize possession was a clean as a whistle before his wife arrived and later we got an inkling why.
He also asked us quizzically why we were heading south to Cape Verdes before crossing the Atlantic. He apparently has crossed the Atlantic 17 times single handed from the Canaries seemingly oblivious to the fact that historically craft have taken advantage of the North East trades that are there and waiting just north of the Verdes. Surprising for a retired Royal Marines man.
Signing in with silver haired Rafael was an experience. He spoke little as he talked on the phone and at the same time recorded and copied our documents. In between calls, answering VHF requests from approaching yachts and dealing with marineros with queries, it took us an hour to get sorted. We were tired and this was all we needed but Rafael was cool, accommodating and very busy, as were all his staff too.
All our requests were granted, gaz bottle replacement, receipt of our solar panel delivery he organised through the marina, saving us hours of getting to places and sign papers and paying tax etc. Hire car, no problem he would sort it. After our booked stay we asked if we could stay another 5 days “No, problem” he smiled, his big eyes looking from his compassionate face.
13th November. VIPs arrive!
Friends Paul and his son, Richard were due to arrive late afternoon, so our time was taken up preparing their cabin, filling up with water etc. They were staying for 3 nights and as soon as they arrived produced an early Christmas present for us from sister Sue and Bernard in the form of money for a meal out. They also planned to treat us to another meal as they were staying on board and the third night would undoubtedly take care of itself.
We felt privileged that they had come all this way and it was great to have their company in our otherwise quite solitary lives.
The first restaurant catered for Brits abroad and we learned all about the couple behind us from Blackpool who had a B&B, at least he did! The food was ok, very large portions, mucho chips. A very bored male singer gave his rendition of songs he thought we’d enjoy and many of the clients sat silently opposite eachother looking fed up. Things could only get better.
On the second night we fared better. The Lava Beach was the end restaurant before the neat promenade overlooking the sea descended onto rocky paths past unfinished hotels. It was a small family run place and had a nice atmosphere and a very pretty waitress. The food was novel. Richard and I started with mozzarella and tomato towers, literally like a fat lighthouse with red and white bands of paint. Yummy.
The lady who owned the place was also waiting on table and as she came to top up my water she dropped a large ice cube into what she thought was an empty glass. Water shot vertically upward and for some reason made me jump. My squeal of laughter brought glances from other guests and being a common language caused them to join in too. As Richard rightly commented, “For someone who lives on water that was an odd reaction.”
The best part of the evening though was the Irish Coffee Incident. The first Irish coffees had squirty cream on top which was ok (I prefer whipped cream). We ordered seconds and as the evening was now well advanced the waitress was relaxing a little as the ‘rush’ was over and said “I’m sorry, we’re out of squirty cream, we’ve only got real cream, but we can try and float it on top!” A few moments later she returned looking very sheepish, deep blue, carefully made up eyes dancing, “I’m really sorry we can’t get it to float, would sinky cream be alright!” We couldn’t reply for laughing. It was fine, we just stirred the lumps in and drank coffee with cream.
Tamarind was due to leave early the next morning so we decided to move away from her to a space directly beside the long pontoon by the harbour wall. I clambered onto Tamarind to let go our lines when from inside came the retort, “What are you doing, you only had to ask for help you know,” in a tone fit to freeze an erupting volcano. Mervyn’s wife Penny was aboard!
“I didn’t even know you were on board.” I responded meekly.
Mervyn lost Tamarind during a storm while taking part in the 2017 Observer Single handed Trans-Atlantic Race. She suffered a knock down during which one of her big deckhouse windows was broken. All power was lost and despite Mervyn pumping by hand for hours he realised she was finished so he called for help and for reasons of maritime safety had the sad experience of scuttling his craft. We were glad he was safe, in fact picked up by the new Queen Mary and cared for in grand style.
Funny place Tenerife. Very funny place San Miguel. The marina is part of a golf complex with lots of hotels apartments and rows of small attractive houses. The tourist information office location assumes you have come by car and is beyond walking distance from the marina. The nearby booking office is for tours only, no bus timetables or anything sensible like that and the nearest bus stop is only directly reachable over a steep rocky path. We had already found the bus timetable on the internet but it could not be downloaded. Car hire is four times more expensive than Lanzarote even with the same company.
At some point we have to clear out of the Canaries officially, just as we cleared in. A paper trail is essential in this game to confirm where we have just come from, otherwise it can take hours if not days to clear immigration. We knew from the pilot that one can clear out of Los Christianos and Santa Cruz (at the north of the island) so while the boys were here we decided to have a look at Christianos. We waited at the bus stop and here found the first bit of inspired networking on the island. A taxi rank right behind the bus stop. Oooh that air-conditioning was bliss.
Los Christianos was packed on the seafront and in the bars. A strong wind was blowing sand across the beach so the sun beds were empty forcing everyone onto the promenade. I thing we managed forty minutes or so walk, noting the derelict and crumbling handful of historic buildings amongst modern architecture. “Let’s try a road back”, I suggested. Phew, in the shade a few people were sitting outside bars and we found a nice little Italian restaurant for a light lunch, with a charming waitress and the biggest Porcini mushrooms I have ever seen. Another taxi ride took us ‘home’. We gave up on the harbour office as it was Sunday anyway.
An unexpected and lovely surprise about this marina is the bar, above the office and shop. It has the best views of the sea to one side and the marina, golf course and eastern flanks of Mount Teide, right to the top on a clear day on the other side. We relaxed over a cool beer a couple of times while Paul and Richard were with us and of course while on our own.
Our last evening meal in the company of our visitors was not without its laughs either. This time the cream topping on the Irish coffee was whipped cream. Rob couldn’t feel it on his lip as it was room temperature so as he tilted the glass a moustache of white poured down outside either side of the glass. We never found the cream on Rob’s clothes, which was a mystery, but the chef and waitress came out with mop and bucket ready to clean up Rob and his surrounding area!
Back in the marina we had been watching a refit take place on an enormous catamaran. It seems this marina is very busy with refurbs, unlike Puerto Calero on Lanzarote. A hoist was nowhere near big enough to put this lady back in the water and two massive cranes had to take on numerous weights weighing 12.5 tons each to lift her back in to the water. At which point she left the harbour to be replaced by one just a big that had been built as a world racer.
A couple of mornings ago I had awoken to see a square rigger in the harbour. As we walked up to her from behind I saw the port of registry was Leith and knowing there was only one square rigger in Scotland when I sailed on her a few years ago, I thought she must be the Jean de la Lune, and indeed she was. I hoped we would get a chance to visit.
Paul left us mid-morning for his midday flight and Richard very kindly washed down Zoonie’s decks with fresh water before taking himself off for a last run after lunch. His taxi arrived and suddenly their much looked forward to visit was over, but with the promise that Paul would try and visit us in the Caribbean.
New Solar Panels and Mt Teide tour.
It has been a busy week since our friends left us. Thanks to Rafael we received the solar panels from Marlec without any hassle and booked a car for a day to go to Santa Cruz at the end of the week to obtain clear out documents.
While we were waiting in the queue to see Rafael we met Poitr (Peter) from Jean de la Lune and he invited us aboard late afternoon as he was going to be in the engine-room sorting out his engine water intake pipe. In fact he gave us a whole hour of his valuable time, starting with a mug of tea and chat and following up with a tour, showing us all the changes and improvements he has made with his partner and team.
Peter showed us a photo of one of the giant catamarans being lifted by crane clean over his bowsprit. His expression of concern met with comments from the marinero, “No worries, relax, we have done this before!”
Peter showed us all the work he and his team have done so far to turn Jean de la Lune into a training ship for all ages and including families. She was laid up in Leith for ten years with her captain living on board. He adamantly did not want her to become an events venue and was delighted when she was sold to Peter who will extend her sailing waters to include Europe in the summer and the Canaries at this time of year.
I remembered my cabin and the big dining room, and the platform half way up her foremast from which the New Zealand bosun and I watched minke whales swim by.
On Thursday we made an early start to the Aguamar Hotel to meet our coach for a half day trip to Mt Tiede. The day was clear as a bell and the volcano looked her best. The coach had come from Los Christianos and all points west, so it was nearly full. We would not have minded the fact we could not sit together if it was not the result of a couple splitting up so each of them could have a window seat. The guide insisted we did not change seats, afraid of contretemps no doubt.
We ascended through hills covered in cushion succulents and stopped at a typical old Tenerife village for a drink. Then onwards through pine and fir trees, some of which are so efficient at retaining water they resisted a forest fire in the spring and sprouted new leaves within a couple of months.
While most of the coach load paid to go to the top in the cable car we, along with a German couple, set off along one of the many tracks into the caldera. The colours of the rocks and flora were so rich in the bright sun we could happily have spent the day wandering through the landscape, which reminded me of the semi deserts of North America, but without the rattlers and scorpions, instead just rabbits, lizards and small deer.
The return journey took us along the south west coast of the island, past acres of covered pineapple, tomato and banana groves and with a fine view of La Gomera beckoning us forth.
On Friday morning we discovered a double problem with one of the windows at the front of Zoonie’s deckhouse. I noticed that it did not close fully, instead resting on the rubber seal. It turned out the seal has come away from the rubber on the frame. Well that was just a case of gluing the two together, but during the inspection Rob noticed that one of the pot rivets holding the hinge to the frame had shed its head. To re-rivet would mean taking the window off and ideally both windows need to be removed and all the rivets replaced, but now or later? It has held so far so we decided to make it a job for maybe Peru or New Zealand. As it turned out all the pot rivets in the hinges were replaced in New Zealand.
Later that day our Fiat Panda hire car arrived and we sped along the motorway, TF1 in 45 minutes to Santa Cruz. When I came here to join the Stavvy for the trans-Atlantic voyage ten or so years ago the journey took much longer as our road then was a windy one through the lava deposits. The new motorway has been cut easily through sandstone.
On our second attempt we found the Harbour Police in the office complex beside the Fred Olsen terminal. Fortunately a lady interpreter was present and she helped us cut the red tape. The police chief would not forward date our clearance document, even for a day, so we suggested we would go straight back to the marina and leave that same day. He was happy with that and couldn’t care less if we stayed on another week or so. As long as he had done his job a little white lie on our part was acceptable.
Rob has successfully installed all the new solar panels but needed some clips to fasten the cables on the deck. We walked across Santa Cruz for nearly an hour to a chandlery, but when Rob showed the seated assistant behind the counter what we needed she shook her head. Meanwhile, back at the marina, we showed the one clip we had to Rafael and his response was, “What colour?” and “How many?” Still our walk did allow us to see old Santa Cruz and we lunched in a nice bar under the shade of mimosa trees.
The hire car was due to be returned the following morning at 11.00 so we were up with the lark and off to LIDL and Mercadona to victual up enough supplies to last until the Caribbean, expecting to get only fresh supplies in Cape Verdes.
On our return to the marina the car hire guys helped us carry the shopping bags to Zoonie to speed up the delivery to their next client. Last evening we were enjoying a quiet drink in the bar when two very talented guys entertained us on their guitars and singing Irish ballads, sea shanties and favourites from the likes of Rod Stewart, Johnny Cash and Roy Orbison. The bar filled up and we joined in when we could. Both of them had good voices and we stayed for the duration of this surprise concert.
Today the cloud over Teide has been deep and dark and the wind has blown hard as it usually does around here. We plan to leave on Tuesday for La Gomera, the last island we shall see in our sojourn in the Canaries.