The Atlantic cossing and the Island of Horta and on to Fowey in England

View across the immaculate terraced fields on Horta from our vantage point of the volcanic crater

Mike and I had planned to go to Europe this year in Cheshire Cat. But, as we cruisers say, "Plans are written in wet sand at low tide". Now we had decided to go the other way, west, through the panama Canal and the Pacific Islands. Consequently we felt we had to make the rendezvous with all our friends who were sticking to the original plans, the Atlantic Crossing and Europe.


Rendezvous Antigua, coinciding with Antigua Classic week (old boats - some very famous in the sailing world) and Race Week (a big event in the racing calendar - more famous boats and crew). So we hot footed from Venezuela north (more of a pleasant sail for once) intending to take four days. We had a small incident mid ocean with a steering problem - lost the thing entirely (the cable broke) but eventually made the date, little the worse for wear. (you should see us now - Mike has white hair and I am almost bald!).






Cocktail hour on Gallant - Cheers!



We had also arranged to sail with a friend in Classic week - great fun, lots of memorable (to us) photos of all those beautiful rigs. We met lots of old friends that we hadn't seen for some time and had some great re-unions. Whilst we were anchored in Falmouth Harbour, Andrea of Gallant of Fowey decided to fly home to the UK, and David invited us to help him crew his luxurious Amel Marimou back to England.


Consequently, we left CC high and dry on land in a yard in English Harbour. We packed the poor lady up ready for a possible hurricane - which meant absolutely everything stacked down inside the boat, sails and canvas and hitched a ride to St Martin on a Tristams boat Usquebach.


David and Mike with their laptops on passage


David's yacht was lovely. Very big - 53 feet compared to our 36 feet on CC. Here we had own private state room, with en suite bathroom, we were limited to one shower per day mind you, and I got calloused hands from pumping the loo.


The boat was fully equipped with dishwasher, clothes washer, electric winches on everything, a huge generator to provide all necessary auxiliary power, vast water tanks, 600 litre fuel tank, 1,000 litre of water and enough food to feed a small army.


we set off on the appointed day - 25 knots of wind and a bit bouncy - but what a smooth ride compared to CC! Unfortunately we soon discovered the foresail was delaminating and as David was a bit seasick, we pulled into Anguilla for a couple of days before setting off in calmer weather.




Yachts rafted up to five deep in the marina in Fiail


To cut out the boring stuff - it took us 19 days to get to the Island of Horta in the Azores. We had a storm - 45 knots, but it was fun rather than terrifying and hardly hard work. David was a little inclined to be seasick, but luckily Mike and I were able to make up any shortfall in watch keeping and boat chores.



We had a shift system, three hours on and six off at night, and four hours on with eight off during the day. This allowed plenty of time for sleeping or relaxing. We had lots of fun on the trip - it wasn't all work. There was a great selection of books, DVD's and games on board, and as the pantry was so well stocked we had no problems indulging in some pretty decent meals.


Weather was a bit of an issue - Herb on the radio said it was more like November weather (and how we remember that - the trip from Halifax). He advised us to slow down to avoid gales. We had alternative weather information coming at us from other sources, so there were times when it looked as though we had rather too many choices. But - we made it to the Azores safe and sound and without incident.






Sun rising over Pico Island on our arrival to the Azores


The Azores were wonderful to see - dawn approach, clear sky, Pico island standing tall with the top peeping through a halo of cloud, Fiail - lush and green, the hillsides decorated with terraced fields divided into a variety of sizes and shapes with hedges of hydrangea. Peter's Cafe (the hottest spot in town) received our most immediate attention, cold beers all around.


There were over 300 boats gathered in the harbour and marina, crews with different languages, flags from many countries flying from yachts of every shape and variety. We were surprised to see a contingent of Nordhaven motor trawlers that had come all the way from Florida, bound for Europe. That is a long passage for a motor yacht in open seas. This was the time of year to make the crossing and avoid most of the adverse weather conditions in the Atlantic.

Nick had also arrived in town - one of the crew delivering another boat to Brighton in England with Derek and Gerry. Soon after Tristam on Usqueabach from Classic week arrived accompanied by Dave and Steven after a hard five week crossing from St. Martin. Steven headed home for a few weeks.


I'm sure he wasn't the only one to jump ship as we heard of several crew changes in the brief time that we as we heard of several crew changes in there there.


Vicky and Andrew on Alexander Louise rafted beside us and provided more good company . We had an opportunity to exchange the limericks we had all made up as boat-to-boat entertianment on the way,




David, Derek, Tristam, Jerry, Andrew and Mike in Peter's Cafe


Everyone was thrilled to have completed the first part of their crossing and were celebrating a successful landfall. Inevitably everybody made their way to Peter's Cafe, where the parties started early and ended at dawn.


David, Mike and I shared a rental car with Charles and Bob from Itza Purla, and toured the island. We took a short, chilly walk up to a fantastic volcanic crater where we were able to look down over the rim of the volcano into the extensive crater hole.



Volcanic crater

We toured the small roads through neat villages where all the houses were painted white, and had a very pleasant lunch in a small restaurant at the other end of the island.





Later in the day we made our way to a beach and found black sand instead of the normal white sand we were accustomed to. This of course is because of the volcanic ash, but it was a very unusual sight.






The black sand beach was really hot to stand on!


Further on we could see an extensive promontory, and drove the car over to investigate. We learned that there has been a very unexpected eruption of ash which added several hundred feet to the end of the island, but had also succeeded in covering a small community of about two hundred homes that was established near the lighthouse.




The lighthouse was now useless partly because it wasn't anywhere near the end of the island any more, and partly because the lower two stories of the house had been submerged in black ash!



Windmills stand alone and unused


Apparently the Azoreans had made good use of the wind as we saw several old fashioned windmills, their sails still intact, but presumably unused now.

Fiail itself is a pretty little town with narrow cobbled streets and immaculate houses. In the countryside miniature fields were divided by low stone walls and instead of hedgerows they had planted hydrangeas. All the houses were painted white. Of course there was a whaling station, and a guide to tell us how the whales used to be vital to the economy of the islands.

Delivery by donkey in the main street

David had to order new parts for a couple of thing on the boat (nice to know that things break even big luxury class yachts.



The small chandlery was quite busy as the various yachts made their repairs and got ready for the last leg of the passage either to Europe or to the UK. We restocked the happy hour goody cupboard which had been seriously dented, mainly cocktail hour snacks and choc bars, had our laundry taken care of, and did the few jobs that required our attention before we set sail again.


All too soon it was time to leave and once again we said our goodbyes to old and new friends.

Our final task was to paint our autograph picture on the marina wall alongside all the others from boats that visit Horta. The tradition here is to leave a pictorial autograph of some kind, thereby ensuring good luck; there are hundreds of paintings on the walls, pathways and even on the roads in the marina. We spotted a picture left by China Moon whom we'd been with in Bermuda and St. Martin, an old one left by Derek and Wanita on Dream Weaver several years previously, as well as those painted by several other boat names we recognized.

As we left harbour we heard that Brian and Deb on Chinook were just a few miles away and although it would have been marvelous to see them just one more time, we continued onwards, bound for Fowey in Cornwall.

Deirdre and Mike with Gallant of Fowey's painted picture on the marina wall

All too soon it was time to leave and once again we said our goodbyes to old and new friends. As we left harbour we heard that Brian and Deb on Chinook were just a few miles away and although it would have been marvelous to see them just one more time, we continued onwards, bound for Fowey in Cornwall, England.

Several uneventful days later, we were welcomed into Fowey with a fanfare of blaring horns and much flag waving by David’s family, making David's dream of sailing into his home Port a reality. We berthed the boat and were soon invaded by Andrea, Alex and friends with a delivery of cold champagne and delicious hot Cornish pasties – scrumptious!

Welcome flags for us in the harbour as we sailed past

England was cold, socks and sweaters for Mike and me - even though everyone else thought the weather was just fine, and it was wet and very expensive. Mike's father was in fine fettle, and his sisters and family welcomed us as usual with enormous hospitality. I caught a bus to the east and visited Barbara, my stepmother and my old friend Lizzie. I had a lovely time, and was sad to leave after so little time and without seeing everybody we would have liked to visit.

Everyone seemed pleased to see us - even so,, we are given to understand that although we are always welcome, its better to visit only once every six years or so!

We flew back to Antigua on 17th, a Saturday - to arrive in blistering heat, with the marina yard closed tight until Monday. Boat full of sails etc, no propane for cooking or coffee, no water, toilets or shower keys. How are the mighty swept off their feet for a thudding fall!

Mike and I had to get the boat back into shape as quickly as possible, and found it much harder work than it seemed to have been to tear it apart and pack up before we left! Soon we were heading south once again, out of hurricane territory and back to Venezuela where Helen and Tabs were due to visit around 20th of the next month. Then - off to the Pacific Islands in the new year.

Deirdre with Pico in the background

Onwards we go - off to see more and have more adventures. What a way to live , eh?

Antigua for Race Week; our steering cable broke but we arrived safely

Passage from Venezuela: Never leave Port on a Friday!

As a safety precaution before our three or four day passage from Venezuela to Antigua, Mike arranged to maintain a regular 12 hourly contact schedule with both Derek (Dream Weaver) in Porlamar, and Charles and Caroline (Itza Purla) then in St. Lucia. We left Porlamar, Margarita Island, early on Friday morning in fair winds and sunshine.

On the Sunday afternoon Mike and I were in the cockpit when at about 4.30 there was a small bang in the cockpit area. As we promptly sat up to attention and looked about us for the source of the noise, we felt the boat round up into the wind - all by itself. What had happened? Slight panic situation! A swift turn of the wheel soon proved that we had lost our steering – “Oh, Dratt!!!” (and other similar words).

Overlooking the crowded harbours of Antigua

Fortunately Mike had made an extension to the metal emergency tiller before we left Canada two years previously; instead of sweeping across the cockpit at ankle breaking level the bar was now about 20 inches above the floor.

It soon became obvious that we could have done with an extra few inches of height, as sitting at the back of the boat and bending down to the steering was extremely very uncomfortable.

We duly reported our predicament to our friends; with the tiller in place and full of renewed optimism we headed off again in the light air conditions. Another challenge: how to find a way of rigging up a self steering system for the tiller which ensured that we stayed more or less on course. String and bungee cords provided the solution.

The next day, a Monday, we decided to change direction slightly up to Guadalupe rather than continue to Antigua - our primary destination. By this time we knew that IP would have sailed there to meet us. Two other couples; Brenda and John on Willow; Katie and Harrison on Circe; both in the area and listening out for us, were also making haste to head to Guadeloupe. We knew they would stand by in case we got into real trouble and help us when we arrived.

Controlling the emergency tiller was easier said than done as well as exceedingly uncomfortable. Soon we began to take turns on the tiller - a half-hour each, on and off. Even though Mike had modified the tiller we still found it difficult to manage in the slightly choppy seas with wind on the nose; we were exceptionally fortunate to have fair weather and light winds.

Cheshire Cat with Itza Purla and Chinook anchored in Antigua


It is always such a tremendous feeling to know one has good friends standing by in times of need; we felt that any one of our buddies would have come out to meet us and help us cover those last few miles if it had been necessary.

Indeed, when we did sail slowly into the anchorage in Guadalupe at around midnight, there they all were, ready to help us anchor safely.

J Boats racing with much smaller classic yachts

What a welcome we received when we finally reached our destination!

Itza Purla, Willow and Circe and Debbie and Brian on Chinook had all arrived in the harbour at Falmouth, Antigua ahead of us. Andrea and David on Gallant of Fowey; Jenny and Tom on Annie B were there as well; later we met Derek on Dream Weaver; Serendipity of Falmouth; Lillymaid; ‘Tall Paul’ on Zutalief; Steven on Corasol; Tristam on Usqueabach; Sophie and several others.

The venue was packed in anticipation of two of the great events in the annual sailing calendar -Classic Week, when vintage design boats gather to race in a friendly and gentlemanly fashion - and Race Week, where some of the most competitive racing boats and crews compete with ferocious passion.

Usqueabach and Crew racing in Classic Week

Tristam had invited Mike and I to crew on his Joshua Slocum ‘Spray’ replica for the week and soon we gathered with the others to don our impressive racing colours; black bowler hats, waistcoats and white shirts with cute little red bow ties.

At the racing start line we soon found ourselves working hard to even get around the course - it was very evident the boat wasn't built for racing! Tristam, being the canny sea dog that he is, took advantage of a shortened course, and it transpired that we were first (in our class) over the line that day! There was a bit of a drama on the final day when Usqueabach was battling along in the thick of a crowded course when the steering cable broke (déjà vu?); Tall Paul made a temporarily fix with true bodger's skill, using anything he could find lying around.

We had a wonderful and memorable Classic Week, sailing and making merry with old and new friends.

Best of all was watching some of the most famous old boats race the same course as us, carrying thousands of feet of sail more than any modern cruising boat, with their crews working flat out to win the prestigious races.

All the boats all raced together over a similar course – be they large or small. This appeared to be very confusing, as the slower boats were constantly overtaken by the faster and more agile craft.

The Huge J-boats with enormous sails together with some of the very small classic yachts.

Mari Cha 4 was competing, (the fastest racing boat in the world at this time) having made amazing time crossing the Atlantic in something like 6 days. It takes the average cruiser about 21 days to sail over the same route!Mari Cha 4 took just over 2 hours to get to Antigua from Guadeloupe - the same passage took us a full day in CC!

Amongst the beautiful streamlined classic boats there were six tall ships competing in their own races.

They had come from distant lands and seemed to glide across the horizon with all sails flying, a reminder that the same ships would have been the first to arrive in these waters over 300 years ago with Nelson's navy, or with pirates and buccaneers on board, searching for treasure in the New World.

We walked, or rather scrambled, up the steep hill to Shirley Heights to see the magnificent view across the two harbours.

Another, more leisurely stroll took us along the old fortifications behind Nelson's dockyard, where we could imagine ourselves going back in time as we looked out over the ocean, just as the sailors and soldiers in far off times would have scanned the distant clouds for sails on the horizon.

All the anchorages were full, the marinas jam packed, and the after-hours bars and restaurants busy as could be. We had lots of opportunities to meet everyone for coffee, meals or just drinks in one of the local bars.

The organizers put on a number of special events, favourites seemed to be free rum on the beach and give-away hats: hundreds of people jammed into every available space for these events. We collected our share of Race Week hats, and in consequence consumed our fair share of rum!

By the time Cheshire Cat had reached Antigua Mike and I had changed our cruising plans. We had decided not to go to the Mediterranean, but to return south and travel west through the Panama Canal. Sadly this meant we had to bid farewell and bon voyage to some of our best buddies - Itza Purla, Chinook and Gallant were all planning to leave for the Atlantic Crossing. This was a sad note - knowing that we wouldn't see these friends for some considerable time and perhaps our paths would never cross again!

David and Mike demonstrating - what exactly?

We did however, have a wonderful evening on Annie B when we all gathered together with musical instruments and lead by Tom, had yet another unforgettable night of music and laughter. Maybe a little pole dancing crept in somewhere. Jen; Andrea and David; Derek; Brenda and John; Paul; Debbie and Brian were amongst the revellers.

Our plans were changed yet again when we agreed to sail to the UK with David on his Amel - Gallant of Fowey. This trip enabled us to spend a few weeks visiting relatives; all too soon we had to fly back to Antigua and removce ourselves out of the hurricane area of the Caribbean.

The island was almost deserted. Many of the bars and restaurants had closed and the old Nelson's Dockyard had returned to its normal tranquil and serene state. We had ample opportunity to stroll around the old buildings which formed the garrison where Nelson and his sailors had lived and worked in days gone by. We could easily imagine that our shoes trod the same paths as those old Royal Navy sailors and officers - even Nelson himself.

We learned how the old boats were careened at the end of the dock so that barnacles and growth could be striped of the underwater wood and repairs made.

The wheel was probably manned by many more sailors than just a Mike!

In Nelson's Harbour we saw the old sail lofts, workshops and officer’s quarters, storage areas, all fully restored and turned into museums, shops and an upscale hotel.

Nelson's Harbour

We'd stripped Cheshire Cat when we left her in the marina, just in case a hurricane or bad weather hit the island while we were away. All the sails were folded and stored below, together with anything we could remove off the decks.

It took a few days of extremely hard work to put the sails back on and set everything to rights before we could contemplate setting off south. Hot and tired from days of hard work putting everything in order, we were finally ready, and so left Antigua and all her charm.

We sailed south stopping briefly at Bequia where we anchored down for a welcome night's rest before continuing to Carriacou and then on to visit Grenada again. We rested for a couple of days in Hogg’s Bay (scene of many a happy memory) and continued on our way south out of Hurricane country.

Much later we were really happy we had left the beautiful island of Grenada even though we had been sorely tempting to stay awhile. As it was we were safe and sound and miles away when the catastrophic hurricane “Ivan the Terrible” went through, sinking boats, ruining lives and devastating the island.