It was a hard landing. I have flown twice with Jet2 and both times they have flown the plane into the runway, probably two of the hardest landings I have every experienced in all my, quite considerable, airmiles. Anyway, we were safe. We checked into our sparse and modest apartment for two nights. The boat was, as expected, covered in dust and fine sand from the Sahara and the dusty Sierra Nevada. We only had a day before the boat splashed and we managed to get all the stuff done that had to be done under the boat before we went into the water. The Spanish couple that were living on their boat next to us in the yard came over to report that, while we were away, the wind generator had become loose and had started rotating (I always tie it up when leaving the boat). They told us that there were sparks coming from it in high wind. They had reported it and some guys from the yard had come to tie it up again. Despite the copious dust, when I had untied it, I remember thinking that the rope seemed longer and newer than the one I had used.

The next morning we put the boat in the water and as we motored away to our berth to continue with the tidying up and rig up, I asked Veronica to put the centreboard down. Manoeuvring with it fully retracted is uber difficult. First prize to the first mate as, as she was lowering the board, she suddenly realized that the line had been cut and closed the jammer cleat. Phew, Phew, Phew!…..if the line had disappeared it would have been nigh impossible to replace it without hauling the boat out again. The bloody idiots, of all the lines they could have cut to tie up the wind generator, the centreboard line was the worst and most complicated to replace. They were in a boat yard with many discarded and frayed lines lying around that would have done the job just fine.

We spent two days getting the boat rigged and then sailed two days, with a stopover at Caleta de Velez, down to Malaga to unite with our crew. We could not get into the marina in Malaga, so we met them in Benalmadena. We had a great dinner in this very touristy, pseudo-moorish and extensive marina. From there we did two days of sailing, with a stopover in Estepona, to La Linea, the Spanish side of Gibraltar.

It is a landmark of great significance for us. To have such fantastic views of “The Rock” with its iconic banner cloud streaming off it felt like a fitting send off for our Atlantic adventure. Unfortunately, the crew with the Green Mamba passports could not enter Gibraltar as they only had Schengen Visas. Michael (Danish), Veronica and I took a stroll through the passport control, through the level crossing gates and across the runway. The three of us spent the first day doing the touristy things, Veronica and I went up the cable car to see the views and the famous apes, known as the Barbary apes or Barbary Macaques, and then we walked down soaking up the history of the sieges and the second World War tunnels, etcetera. We then had a chilled weekend in the La Linea marina on the Spanish side.




It was then time to tackle a few boat jobs. First on the agenda was the keel job. We now had three more brains, in the new crew, as well as YouTube instruction on the case. We had bought new, stronger, 40% dyneema line which we spliced onto the old line and gingerly pulled it through about 6 pulleys into the keel box. It worked! We were relieved. So great was our relief that we nearly forgot the last step. Wise owl, Michael, saved us when he spotted that we had not put the bolt onto the eyebolt on the keel box before we were about to start tensioning the line! Anyway, all good in the end as that could so easily have ended in tears.

Our other mission was to replace the Tricolor. I went up the mast and got both the Tri-colour and the anchor light working. Luckily 2 days later we tested it again, as we found that it was now not working. The tricolour is the red, green and white light that you use while sailing, it is LED and uses a lot less power than the steaming (Navigation) lights. Another trip up the mast, this time Mark went up. We lowered the fitting down in the bucket and after much testing and analysis, the problem was solved by cutting up a plastic punnet and rolling it up to act as a spring to force the contacts up against the contact on the bulb……..very high-tech. As they say in Surf Africa, “’n boer maak ‘n plan”.

I had ordered a Rocna anchor and an electric outboard in Gib, to save paying the VAT. We met the interesting Sam Sheppard from the well known Sheppard’s chandlery. She was a no-nonsense girl with a bulging bosom trying very hard to escape upwards from her bright pink bra and fluorescent green blouse. The picture is completed by the array of tattoos, pink hair and an attitude like a Hell’s Angel. Anyway, the electric motor was there but the anchor was not. We were staying the weekend anyway but had a bit of a scare when it was still not there on Monday morning. Thankfully it arrived in the afternoon so we took the boat around the bottom of the runway into the Gib fuel jetty. You don’t have to clear customs there. You can just collect your VAT-free orders and fill up with fuel that is €0.80 less per litre than anywhere else in Europe. It all seems rather bizarre to me that you can do this but I cannot complain.

I had warned the crew about the risk of an Orca attack several months ago but I guess the fact that there was a catamaran on the next pontoon with its rudder chewed off, focused their minds and mine too. We armed ourselves with ten litres of bleach (said to be a deterrent) and crossed our fingers for the passage. From the statistics and the plotted positions of the encounters, we need to be out of the straights of Gibraltar and at least 50 Nm offshore Morocco to start feeling safe.

The Tuesday morning dawned, we were fuelled up, provisioned, and had full water tanks, so we headed the boat for the Atlantic. The first part was dodging anchored behemoths. We could not have got luckier with our timing. It was two days past spring tide and the time of day we left was perfect for the favourable tide. We blasted along to Tarifa, putting up the sails about halfway. We then turned left to cross the traffic separation zone at right angles as required in the COLREGS (anti-collision regulations) and absolutely rocketed across the lanes to the Moroccan side. We were also lucky with the traffic as there was no need to check-in with any boats or alter course at all. The surprise was, on the Moroccan side where I was thinking that the tide would run against us at some point, it didn’t. There were small overfalls in places, all in our favour and soon we left Tangiers to port and rounded the top corner of Africa, Carbo Espartel, and set course for Porto Santo island (Madiera’s dry sister). Trans-Atlantic, here we come.

There was some motoring in the afternoon and evening but later the wind set north and the long reach began. The passage was four nights at sea and halfway through the second morning at sea, we decided that we were out of Orca encounter territory. We have a Hydrovane self-steering gear (a.k.a. Juluka). One of the advantages of it is that it has an independent rudder that can also act as an emergency steering rudder. We decided to leave the rudder off, so that if we did get attacked by Orcas and they damaged our main rudders, we could fit the Hydrovane rudder and still get by. So, we now had to attempt the tricky, not generally advised, operation of fitting the rudder at sea. Michael turned the boat into the wind and Mark and I, with life jackets and safety lines on, got onto the swim platform with the rudder. Perhaps we were lucky, but we got it on and the safety pin in very quickly. Up until this point Philemon had been steering the boat but he is power hungry and as it was cloudy, we needed to get Juluka working so we could get the batteries up.

I shall try to summarise the rest of the passage as it was pretty full-on, reaching in 18 to 25 knots of wind and rollicking seas, for 3 days on the trot. Most of the time we were on a third reef in the main and alternating between a full and a reefed stay-sail. Galley work and toilet duties were challenging. Unfortunately, several crew members suffered some “mal de mar” but by the last night all were feeling mostly better and the sea state as well as the wind had ameliorated somewhat. On the positive side we were blasting along at over 6 knots, so the passage was relatively quick. Also, boy, were we lucky to have taken that weather window because just after we arrived Madeira, the wind set SW and stayed that way for nearly 2 ½ weeks. That would have left us waiting in Gibraltar for a while.

We arrived in Porto Santo at about midday on the 5th day. There were no berths or buoys available (we had half expected this) but it is a massive harbour and you can anchor inside the buoys that demarcate the Ferry turning zone. We had two days of calm weather so we could happily leave the boat on anchor and go exploring. The winner was the new electric outboard that was just perfect for ferrying us back and forth to the quay.

Columbus lived here and married the first Governor’s daughter. The island is volcanic but has a remarkably nice white sandy beach. So, since basalt is a basic rock rather than an acidic rock, where did the sand come from? Remarkably, it is wind-blown from the Sahara which is 500km away. The island is barren, dry and only 500m high. They have very little water but have a desalination plant. This is in complete contrast to Madeira which is 1800m high and is lush and verdant with plentiful water. They are only 40km apart. We chilled on the beach, walked into and explored the rather quaint and neat little Porto Santo town. Mark met a vivacious and friendly local, she actually now runs safaris in Africa (the catalyst and talking point) and she kindly arranged a lift for us with her brother, whom she was visiting, up to the highest point of the island. We then did a stunning circular walk around the top. They have a reforestation project underway, apparently to encourage rain. We walked back to the harbour making it total outing of some 8 ½ km.

Michael had managed to find a flight back to London and on to Denmark. He very generously treated us all to supper at the lovely restaurant in the harbour. The next morning, we said our sad goodbyes. I have to say it was fantastic to have experienced crew members on board who understood the challenges of both sailing and also of living in small spaces. Michael had sold his own boat, a Najad, just a few years before, so it was great to have him aboard.

On the Monday morning, we dropped Michael at the dock and he took a taxi to the airport. We had made a call to go to Madeira, despite it being on the wind. This call was based on the fact that the strong south westerlies were only going to get worse all week. This would have meant they would be coming straight through the harbour entrance, leaving us anchored on a lee shore in winds up to 30 knots ….to be avoided.

The 20Nm passage turned into a slog from hell, we started tacking with a strategy to get into the lighter winds in the lee of Madeira Island however, we soon realised that we were going to run out of light. We then motored 15Nm directly into the wind and into a smashing sea. There was a lot of slamming and a bit of a panic because we had forgotten to close the dorade vents and some big splashes came over the deck and into the saloon before we realised. There was major panic from the first mate who thought we were taking on water below the water line. I don’t like treating Timeless Odyssey to such a beating. When we arrived at the Quinto do Lorde Marina, it was blowing 25 knots. It was one of the worst docking experiences we have had since Vaxholm Sweden in 2015. There was a very high harbour wall and remarkably there was a major wind rotor over the wall. It kept dragging the bow of the boat into the ballast along the side of the wall. The thruster could not control it and I had to reverse off twice before I could get enough way-on to steer away from it. Luckily there was no grounding. The berth was directly blown off and we were very lucky to get one line on and then with a lot of help from some Polish sailors managed to haul the boat alongside the floating jetty. So, we did not arrive in style in Madeira but we were there and ready for a week to 10 days or touristy sojourn.

More about the Madeira chapter in the next blog.