In years gone by writing was a skill only known by the rich or godly. These people could afford education and the time to practice such a difficult skill. The common man was simply told to make his mark to prove that he had been somewhere. For centuries, whilst farmers have been making their marks on the landscape of Porto Santo by terracing its hills, sailors have been making their marks on harbour walls and rocks by leaving their boat emblems. Ruffian has followed in this tradition and hope that we have left a mark in Porto Santo that we will be able to return to see in years to come.

After our epic journey to Porto Santo over the high seas the crystal clear waters beckoned the crew of Ruffian to take a dip. The problem with the clear water was that for the first time we could truly see Ruffian’s entire hull. The weed and barnacles, that have been growing in this warm water, were obvious for all to see and were grating on Iain and Fiona’s need for speed. So out came the sponges and on went the elbow grease to try and restore Ruffian bottom to its previous silky smoothness.

Before we left Sines in mainland Portugal we knew that there would be some southerlies arriving in Santo Porto and so when the beach we were anchored off became exposed to the wind and swell we hot footed it into the marina and took advantage of the refuge it offered. It was not a place that either of us was happy to be, but we were very happy that Ruffian was safe and sound.
When in Portugal you are supposed to ‘book into’ each and every anchorage by seeking out the local police. You let them know where you’ve been and where you are going. In the past we have thought that this was just a massive paper pushing exercise and didn’t take too much notice of it. Our opinion changed in Porto Santo. They had photos of us throughout the Portuguese coast and knew exactly where we’d been. Big brother is watching.

There are some benefits to being in a marina. We washed the boat, filled with water, scrubbed Thug, tackled some jobs that have been nagging for ages, hiked the hills without having to carry all the dingy based paraphernalia and had a super social time. Whilst at anchor it’s really difficult to meet more than a couple of people at once. In a marina you can meet hundreds. The main issue with meeting all these people and that because everybody has the time to chat, every job that should take minutes ends up taking hours. Even when going ashore to ablute one had to ensure enough time to make social niceties along the way.

The job that caused the most amount of ‘chat’ was that of washing Larry. Over the past months he’s turned from a pristine white to a dirty grey and it was time to restore his previous shine by giving him a soak and a bath. After sitting in a bucket of hot water he was restored to his former glory but in the process took on the drowned rat look, to add insult to injury he was hung in the rigging to dry for all to witness his humiliation.

Being that the Madeira Archipelago is 300 miles from anywhere we thought that they would have their very own special culinary dishes and really wanted to sample them. We found a local dish called ‘Francesinha’ which presented all the local fare in a single dish and here is how we think they came up with it:
“So we need a dish to show what we grow. OK. So we have cows so there’s got to be some steak. Hmm. We also have pigs so let’s chuck in some sausages. Ah but lets not forget the ham. Looking good, but how to hold it together? Ah yes melted local cheese. Hmmm. It’s looking a bit difficult to eat. I know lets encase it in fried bread. That’s better, but what about the local tomatoes and wheat. Excellent. Let’s cover it in sheets of pasta and tomato sauce. Hey the chickens are feeling left out. Brilliant! The crowning glory! Let’s put a fried egg on the top.”

The ‘Francesinha’ as you can see from the above is not only able to show all the local produce in one simple dish but is also responsible for keeping the population down by giving everybody coronary failure. It really is a heart attack on a plate.

The final task to perform in Santo Porto was that of leaving Ruffian’s mark on the harbour wall. This is a tradition that occurs in ports around the globe and Porto Santo’s harbour wall was covered in this form of thoughtful graffiti. Ruffian’s logo was designed partially with this in mind and so instead of following the crowd and doing everything by eye and freehand, out came the masking tape, ruler and exterior paints. After talking to hundreds of people, Fiona getting getting artistic and Iain getting scientific the Ruffian mark was left after our 2012 visit to this remarkable island paradise.

We can finally see Ruffians shadow on the bottom in the crystal clear waters.


It’s just like Northumberland where the beaches go on for miles and miles. The main difference is that it’s warm and sunny and you can swim without catching your death. Another big similarity to Northumberland is that Iain can’t understand what people say.


Iain finds his paternal side and feels the best thing to do with children is bury them.


That’ll be a rather rocky landscape then, which makes for really easy hiking.


Robinson Crusoe could have been based on this Porto Santo. It really is a proper desert island.


The early morning start was worth the view.


After months at sea Larry finally takes a bath. We don’t think he was very impressed, but he did come out whiter than white.


What’s the best thing to do when its 35 degrees? Yes that’s right climb into a small locker and work on hot things.


In the words of Rolf Harris “Can you guess what it is yet?”


Iain gets all technical. You’d never guess he specialised in CAD for a living.


The Ruffians leave their mark.


And so to bed after a busy week on Porto Santo before heading off to Madeira.