RAPAREE - entering the Grenadines for New Year 26 to 31 Dec

PM 26th and we finally make our way southwards from the marina glue of St Lucia.  Coastal cruise down the hills and cliffs before passing Soufriere Bay and the photo-opp Pitons before anchoring under the stars overnight in a little rocky bay next to the village of Laborie on the south of the island. Interesting chain clunking and surf noises all night....just right for the skippers beauty sleep. Fast offwind sail, well reefed, southwards, down the exposed windward shore of St Vincent, in order to avoid the calms behind the islands. Lumpy seas and big wind acceleration zones at the tips of each island.
We decide to miss out St V on the way down, and head for Bequia as we had heard it was a great stop for New Year. Also some big winds are forecast and good shelter would be available there over the period. After an all day sail we enter a blustery and busy Admiralty Bay at tea time. We are ready to anchor but a one toothed chap chap in a rasta hat leads us to his mooring buoy which doesnt look too bad and which is probably safe enough for a night (4 days later we are still there!).
Bequia is NOT a small flat white coral place. It is a big Salcome/Dartmouth like yachty estuary/bay, with high hills, trees, villas etc.  Loads of yachts and boats from Abramovitch type jobbies to dugouts, and tugboats to schooners. Boaty stuff always going on. Traditional Caribe Veg and fruit markets all along the main street. A lot of souvenir type places as well.
We are now fully in Bequia routine with ladder down and dinghy and engine fully rigged for harbour ferry service. Very loud reggae, Steel bands, and Carib Beer are on the menu. 
Weather OK, apart from occasional heavy showers and big gusts in between very hot and humid bits. People very pleasant. Skipper slightly uneasy as the smell of new mown hay (grass?/weed?) is strangely pervasive at all social events. Keep getting offered horticultural samples round the back but not sure where to use it as we dont have a lawn on the boat and watering would be a bit of a problem.
2 crew are now wearing knitted rasta hats and balding old skipper has beaded necklace in rasta colours.
Now planning our New Years eve run ashore. Chicken Jerk on papaya and rice with avocado on board. Fireworks party and more steel bands ashore. 
Planning on leaving 1st or 2nd southwards for Tobago Cays. This will probably be our furthest south before heading via St Vincent back N to St Lucia base for maintenance and crew flights etc.

Anyway me hearties will keep ye all posted
Michael B & Raparee
Geoff Bell & Andrew & Charlotte

Raparee's short Christmas Message

Happy Christmas one and all.
After a good round of Christmas parties, and a lesurely mini-refit, RAPAREE is off again today on another little ramble. This time southward towards Grenada but with possible stops at St Vincent and the Grenadines en route. New crew is Geoff Bell, plus his son Andrew, and daughtter Charlotte.
Attended amazing Christmas eve Vigil/Mass thingie with Caribbean gospel music in large corrugated church in nearby village of Gros Islet. Service lasted about 4 hours and took a lot of stamina but certainly put us in the Christmas spirit. Great day out by dinghy on Christmas day to nearby beach hotel where we and 6 other boats had booked in for their all day buffet, Sun, sand, santa, and turkey with papaya.
Plan is to get away tomorrow to head southwards towards the Grenadines or Grenada. Weather has been very changeable and there is some big wind coming up so not sure where we'll be for New Year. Hopefully somewhere sheltered from the forecast 3 metre swell.

Boat rather chaotic and full of junk, so no change there.

Regards and Happy Christmas and New Year to one and all.

Mike on RAPAREE at St Lucia

Christmas Decisions & Stuff

Still at Rodney Bay Marina, St Lucia, getting through the post-T/A job list. David Mac (new grandfather as of this AM) leaves tomorrow so we'll have a farewell curry tonght. Geoff Bell and son and daughter join Friday night. Decision time whether to go to sea or leave it until after Christmas when all the pzazz has died down a bit. Weather outside boisterous, squally, and lumpy, but at least the wet bits are warm. Need to move on soon as I'm getting bored by jobs and am developing marina fever. A Rasta man has come to service the fridge and a bloke in a boat made of coconuts has take away my laundry. You have to LOVE Bob Marley to live here. He joins you every morning at 0700.
Its weird hearing carols and (seeing Santa Claus and Christmas trees here when its 36 degrees outside!

Not decided on mid Jan onwards leg yet. Laying up and flying home is a possibility, with a return in early Spring to sail home. This is because I have not as yet got any crew, and solo coral hopping is a bit dodgy, and also a bit depressing I should imagine.

Anyway, happy Christmas one and all.

Michael B & RAPAREE

One Final ARC Event at St Lucia

PM Sat 17th. Everyone went to the end of event prizegiving do this evening. A pretty well-managed affair with lots of talks and thank-yous to all and sundry. Also prizewinners and trophies in many categories throughout the 250 strong fleet. Sadly RAPAREE did not win a prize although we did aquit ourselves very well indeed. Of the 139 boats in the cruising class we came in at 61, so less than half way down. Not bad for one of the smaller and older boats in the fleet. Pretty pleased all in all.
Boat still chaoticaly full of jobs and junk. Haven't yet managed to escape for a full island tourist day off as too much to do before next phase.
Tootle-pip for now
Mike B

Wednesday 13th Dec and the start of our St Lucia fortnight

The first few days at St Lucia have been hectic and much work has to be done. And of course essential socialising as well!  We managed one final boat outing with the current crew, taking a day trip to the beach anchorage at Pigeon Island (Tuesday 12th) and a dinghy ride and walk ashore to Fort Rodney on top of Pigeon Point.  Nick Moody, who turned out to be a great addition to the crew,  flew home to Spain today and David Mac has moved ashore, he says to allow work to progress on the boat. He says its nothing to do with the comfortable beds, hot showers, hotel luxury pool, and the air conditioning .

The mainsail is being restitched, a fridge man is coming tomorrow. Skipper has dragged out his 3000 item job list and is grumpily working his way through it.  36 degrees today with 82% humidity. Getting more fans on board is a priority. Ventilation rather than human type, although would also apreciate the latter. Rodney Bay Marina is not a place for relaxing in serene silence. Every boat boy, pirogue, pirate ship, hot rod, and burger stand, has the world’s loudest reggae rap ghetto blaster to rend the night, or early morning, sky by. I guess boring staid old folks have to learn to wise up and get used to it....go with the flow even.  I’ll practice with some rum and see if that works ok.

There are still a few boats left to come in but the finish line officially closes on Saturday. Because the fleet was so spread out, working out actual corrected times will be  a little difficult so we will not know our final place for a while. I was happy that we did our best and we brought Raparee in fairly high up the field for her age and size.  Our motoring hours will of course knock us back down a bit, but we had no control over the weather at the end, so we can’t help that. She went pretty well in the first 2 weeks keeping up some regular 24 hour 7 knot averages. Not bad for an old cruiser.

The transatlantic element is over (ARC website blog),  but  Raparee’s own travel blog will continue.

Thanks to Bill Lewis for putting Raparee's blogs on the blogsite during the crossing. I sent them to him by radio.

There may be a slight delay in getting restarted though because getting good internet access is fraught with difficulty. Photos were originally intended as well, but bandwidth limitations have also made this very difficult.

Mike B and RAPAREE at St Lucia

Raparees’s final TransAtlantic day’s run

Sadly no more wind appeared on Friday 9th and we continued to burble on, motor sailing as best as we could. We try to keep the revs as low as possible, but yet another reserve fuel jerry can bites the dust by midday, and there’s only the small emergency can left now.   By mid afternoon we sight a sail ahead. It’s the big italian ketch ‘Futura’ bravely ghosting along under a big spinnaker. Embarrased, we put our spinnaker up, knock off the donk, and try to keep her company. A less than walking speed slow motion duel in the wrong direction goes on all afternoon, but she steadily draws ahead. Having already blotted our copy book by motoring for  well over a day, we decide to back off and get under way again, in the right direction.

As a tea-time treast we decide to put the clocks back, for the last time, to -4. No sooner had we done this than Nature came and put on a special little finale show for us. In quick succession:

1.       A short visit by choreographed dolphins

2.       A huge full moon rising in the East directly behind us, at the same time as:

3.       A glorious sunset lighting up the sky dead in front of us

4.       2 big bright planets also in line overhead

5.       Land appearing out of the sunset, port and starboard, ahead of us.

6.       A megga bite on the fishing line, bringing us a dorado as big as a hog alongside.

The moon hangs in a clear blue sky over a great silver-blue reflection in our wake. Ahead the horizon is a million colours.  The giant dorado thingy fights with zeal and our efforts with the gaff are puny. With one bound he is free, taking our best lure and trace, although he is likely to need some serious dental work for some years to come.

 We steadily plod on over a glassy sea with the distant glow of Martinique visible on the horizon.

By midnight, there is a very slight wind so we have main and genoa drawing but with the donk still assisting.  By 0200, there is a strongish current in the channel between Martinique and St Lucia so we need to crab and tack our way upwind across to Rodney Bay. As navigation lights are pretty rare around here, we have a little difficulty in the darkness identifying the various headlands and hills before we can make out Pigeon Island and the entrance to Rodney Bay.  Eventually we make out the commitee boat and the finish line, so we knock off the engine and do our best to tack our way across it.   

Lots of hooters and cheers and we are across. Photo Rib boat alongside for happy snaps by moon light.

Sat 10th Dec 03h47m41s is our finish time, just over 19.5 days elapsed. 2921 miles at an average of about 6.25kts since Las Palmas, and 4968 miles from Raparee’s home berth.

After a warm rum punch welcome alongside we commandeer the rest of the rum bottle for medicinal purposes and finally get to bed after cock-crowing time.    

Mini-blogette - St Lucia at last

Muchos apoliogos folks.

This is just a short fill-in blogette to update fings. Very slow internet connection here. so it has been difficult to get on line. I will try to do a proper blog to fill in details later.
We drifted across the line at Rodney Bay st Lucia on Sat AM at 0330. 19 days 15 hrs or so elapsed time although our 60 hrs motoring in calms will now have to be added to this.
Raparee did pretty well, as did the crew, so all are pleases. Now I have to stick ther bits back together again,
must go as batt low.
Back later,

Mike

9th December - Possibly RAPAREE's last full day outward a l'Atlantique

Made a mitsake there on last blog. Of course day 19, yesterday, wasn't 12th Dec. To be sure it was only the 8th Dec. Anyway it was a most remarkably windless day. Surrounded by a great curving panorama of sky with huge distant cumulus clouds hull down on the horizon. A big slow easy swell gives the illusion that our horizon is tilted down to the south west and that we are gently sliding across a huge sea-meadow down into some distant valley. Its hot and sticky so we stop to allow us to jump into the clear blue sea and swim around the boat with 6000 metres below our toes. The after waterline and counter are covered with barnacles so skipper sets to with the brush.
Under way again, lunch of marinaded tuna chunks in couscous with homemade bread. No wind and much motoring forecast so we top up the main fuel tank from 3 jerry cans using a jigger-ball syphon tube.
Teatime and another bite on Nicks line. No fish but plastic squidlet thingy bitten half through. No problem as Dr D gets surgical kit out and sews squid together.
Night comes on and its eerily quiet. Occasional wind flurries so we keep trying little sailing bursts under main and genoa. Visited by some bored teenage dolphins at midnight. They kick some tin cans around and then go home.
There are still a few (useless) rain squalls in our areas and we experiment successfully with steering around them using our old radar.
Day 20 (Fri 9th) and its still bizarrely quiet. If we have to motor along the whole way with main up, we'll just have enough fuel to make Rodney Bay at St Lucia. Now only 115 miles away 1st thing this morning. Should be there with luck about 0400 tomorrow Sat AM. Time to put some wine in the coolbox and dig out the flags.
Late development: Stopped the motor and spent the late afternoon in a high seas drifing duel with a beautiful Italian 48 footer, Futura. Both of us with spinakers up and on the limit for close reaching. Wind only 5 knots so our duel is colourful but in very slow motion. This fun will delay our arrival and push us back further but as its the last days sail,its got to be done.
We'll try and blog tomorrow. Don't know yet what the wifi/mail/phone/hotmail situation is until we get in so not sure if our radio sailmail address, or Raparee's own hotmail e-mail address will be the way to go over the next 2 weeks. Will try and keep some kind of bloggette going either way.
David Mc will be staying in St Lucia to help for 1st 10 days or so, but Nick returns to Spain this Wednesday coming. Geoff Bell & Andrew & Charlotte fly out to join Raparee on 23rd for a Christmas inter-island tour. Anyone else who wants to do a bit of sunshine island hopping during the winter months, starting early Jan, is also welcome.
Mike
Nck
Dave
On RAPAREE

7th & 8th December - Raparee's exciting-ish Days 18 & 19 at sea

Onnyway (as they say in Nornairlond) we carried on ghosting until the dogwatches when suddenly our trailing line thingy sort of went all twangy, like big time. Nick goes to Don Gloves (one of our stowaways)to help with line hauling while Mike gets out the gaff from the loo. After a bit of hauling, in comes a meaty blue tuna neatly landed in the deck bucket. Some smart-ass suggested an alcoholic aerosol would send the fish to sleep (and I've known a few alcoholic aerosols in my life, so I can vouch for that). Anyway we tried gin in a killa-spray bottle but it no workee and made the poor crathur dance around like Michael Flatley on speed. Skipper resorts to the old mackerel method of breaking the neck and this works a treat, although it does mess up the deck shoes a bit. Fishy-wishy was about 7kgs, so quite meaty. Dr David then gave a public demonstration of his surgeomechanical skills by producing some huge uneven fillets and other unspecified lumps of gore. Nick our Chef de jour marinaded some raw lumps for a teatime sushi jobby which were indescribabababbbly delicious. Dropped chute before dark, and we try to sail on for a bit, but wind drops again to zilch, so sadly, time again for Betty Beta, our iron topsail. Great supper of tuna steaks with the remaining Canaries potatoes, and some old 90 cent portuguese plonk (shouldn't be drinkin' at sea but this was a special treat). Leftovers pickled for later sushi-ing.
All night we steadily motored on, skipper very morose and hacked off. Motoring is anathema to his Zennist ideals. We should be living off strained seaweed and propelled only by butterflies wings. And then there is the handicap system which is excessively penal for engining, pushing us even further back in the ranks. Mutter mutter. However, foremost in our minds is the Jazz evening Saturday....we MUST get in for it, even if we have to recruit some passing Minkies to tow us.
Here we are now, Day 19, Dawn has been and gone (she comes and goes stealthily by Rib and does a great cleaning job), its morning of the 8th Dec, motoring along between sullen clouds on a flat oily sea. Hot and humid. You know the sort of thing. Bored sailors making whalebone models of Salisbury Cathedral while being flogged into holystoning something or other. Anthony Hopkins and Russel Crowe staring steely eyed at each other across the creaking cabin. Noise of mosquitos. That sort of thing.
Suddenly Nick's line goes twang again and away we go with gaff and gloves. This time its a big bright yellowish thing with a swallow tail. Same colour as a fluorescent donkey jacket and about as attractive. Do we eat it or use it as an aircraft beacon. Fish (if that's what it is) has better ideas and does a quick On Y Va and is gone from the hook. Oh well. Back to the days motoring and jobs. On the bright side our daily HF chat shows most bateaux in our group are also avec moteur so I guess we all will have the same handicap anyway. Nick reading. Dr D dozing. Skipper making lists, but must go as he needs to tidy the back cabin (not a euphemism) and do some canvas work (fashioning an attractive holder for miscellaneous useless nameless objects, a statement of his life really).
Au revoir mes amis
Miguel le squipeur irlandais
Nicque le Chef de Poissons jaunes et etranges de Jour M.Le Medecin avec un grosse barbe Et la grande barque RAPAREE 15-23N 57-14W

6th & 7th December

Well folks, yesterday, Tuesday, day 17, was a bit pooey to say the least. It rained, it poured, it blew, it stopped, we went backwards and sideways, but not forwards. Sails up and down again and clothes from foulies to shorts on and off again. Finally becalmed all evening, so after a few hours of angst (and we know what this skipper is like about angst)we sadly decided to bend on the iron topsail for a bit of chug-chugging. Megga penalty points at the end of course, but probably better than going backwards and meeting the back end of the fleet.
Anyways folks we put-putted for a few hours and stopped at ohcracksparrowfart this morning so we could drift a bit and ponder fings under Orions belt. Nothing in sight. No whales. No wind. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Other yachts have seen pirate ships, fin-whales, nuclear submarines, lost 2nd WW Flying Fortress bomber squadrons, seals, the kon-tiki raft, Lord Lucan, and suchlike.
So it went on drifting until brekky time this very day, when, inspired to action by our intake of vorsprung durch technic black Rye bread, we ups and bends on the big coloured spinmaker type sail. Our speed (or velocity to be precise. Although as we know the mass of the boat and its speed and position, we can never be entirely clear as to its precise velocity. See Heisenberg) ups to a stunning 4.3 knots, mostly in the right direction.
Now its midday Day 18, Wednesday, its hot and perspiry, and tomorrow is our last payday on board. We are ghosting under our chute. Nick the Lofty GM is fishing with a huge plastic lure thingy. Dr Beardy Mac is writing his memoirs and musing on the use of newly discovered quasi-crystals, and the skipper is making lists about where to store various pieces of string and small dusty items of no intrinsic value. If anyone can tell David of what use Nobel prize winning quasi-crystals are can they please let us know. There may be a reward in it. Or not.
As far as we can tell, using bog-roll tubes, sellotape, and string, we have 370 miles to go to the tip of St Lucia, but at this stage this could take up to 6 weeks to cover. Our original ETA was for Saturday sometime, so we could attend the jazz party that evening. Perhaps if Nick catches a big enough Reef Shark we could get towed in.
Mike the Skip
Nick (Lofty)
David McA (Beardy)
RAPAREE. Day 18. 15-37N; 54-53W.

Sunday 4th to Tuesday 6th Dec - Facing up to the final week (possibly?)

Its early hours on Sunday and RAPAREE has been running all night under goosewinged main and genoa. Beautful moonlit night, but skipper sitting below fuming as it's a pain in the bum trying to get the sailmail and pactor modem HF comms system to work. It's incredibly slow and takes hours to download. Call the hands 0730 and its a pretty morning....excellent for big floppy coloured sails. After some frantic efforts, the chute is once again pulling us along and by 0845 we are having our boiled eggys and toasty bits. Our very first foreign visitor is a lone hungry young gannet who circles Nick's trailing lure several times. We start reeling in and he loses interest (the bird, not Nick). Our daily radio conference shows most of our group have now gone south of us, although we are still holding our position. Late morning and its on-deck body washing time by the sea-water bucket over the head method. Skipper, who only ever washes manually, or once a year, actually joins in. By now we are well into the third 15 degree sector of our crossing so its time to put our watches back to UTC -3.
Pleasant lunchtime of Nick's freshly baked bread and spanish ham, followed by the skipper's special fruit melange (today's selection of dodgy bits of fruit with green furry bits from the chainlocker).
Afternoon forecast shows wind going SE so we need to gybe south before this happens as we don't want to be caught out later. Rather than dropping and rehoisting , we decide to make our gybe a complicated 2 pole affair. This involves a lot of knitting, every rope in the boat, and much shouted instruction, but once done, this set-up keeps us going at a slow but steady pace until evening, when we drop the kite and re-pole out the genoa and get the boat safely secured for the night. Another cockpit Sunday evening gathering, this time with music and with gin and warm flat tonic and slightly off lemon, followed by dodgy Chinese-ish type gunge by Mike for supper.
Overnight Sunday the wind is fickle and frequently drops, leaving us uncomfortably rolling slowly as the enemy lights threaten to reappear from astern.
Monday was a busy working day with much sail changing, but pleasant and sunny. Good spinnaker hoist at noon and down at twilight, in time for skipper's fish and chip supper. Pretty average really: lump of tuna shaped like a fish (the one that fell off Nick's line today), and some flaccid home made chips and tinned peas. Monday evening through to Tuesday morning was pretty dark 'n 'orrible with incessant squalls, heavy rain and wind changes. All are soaked through like drowned rats (particularly the now-bearded David). Sails up and down and in and out. V exasperating.
Now Tuesday midday and crawling along with wind in wrong direction and 2 e-v's in sight. Would you Adam & Eve it? A WESTERLY wind in the NE Trades. Less than 500 miles to go, and in our final week, we can start calculating our ETA at St Lucia. Even though for 1st time in 2 weeks we're almost becalmed, we need to see if we can put a spurt on somehow and avoid coming in embarrassingly far down the list.
RAPAREE @ 16N, 53W (midday 6th)
Cap'n Buglet, Dr beardy Mac, & Lofty the Gringo Miller

1st & 2nd December - A mid atlantic rest day

Some quieter days at last. Someone's switched off the fairground ride. One or 2 more 30 knot squalls on Thursday morning but settling at last. For the first time song-books come out and Mike even tries a bit of guitar practice....a bit difficult as its still very rolly...well that's his excuse for being execrable. The on-deck sea water bucket showers have started...although David lost the bucket. Wrong kind of knot on the line. First ever (honest) glasses of wine this (Friday 2nd) evening with Nick's Spagh Bol. Also managed in a quiet moment to eat at the cockpit table under the stars...again a first for this trip. We've gybed a few times today to try and regain our great circle track course...this takes time and planning due to the number of lines and poles involved in 3 sails. Tomorrow morning early, our 14th since starting, we will cross the '1000 mile to go' line, and can start the 3 digit countdown. We've been lucky with winds from aft for 2 weeks, but who's to say what lies ahead. Calms, winds on the nose, gales?.....anything can happen in our final 1000. Forecast for tomorrow is light so we will have to steel ourselves for hoisting big bertha the cruising chute.
Mainsail looking war weary with broken battens, a big clumsy patch, and frayed seams...but everything else mostly ok. Still on the stbd water tank only. Port tank and jerry cans not touched.
Anyway must go, so tootle pip old things.
Mike, Nick, David....Raparee.
Pos: 16:43N, 43:26W

31st Nov & 1st Dec - mid Atlanic

Raparee's halfway day yesterday went by quietly with little time for whooping it up. Nicks home-baked olive bread was twoderful and a sight to behold.
Wind is a fluky 25 knots and we had 2 or 3 gybes as the swell knocks us around. All sails are preventered so no major dramas. David achieves a burst of 10 knots although our average is 7 or 8. By early afternoon, we have a further chain of gybes caused by the autohelm not responding. Major problem as we depend heavily on him (sic) for downwind sailing with one watchkeeper sailing. Skipper goes ino the bowels of the ship, heart in mouth. Commands in the cockpit give no response at the ram below. Panic. Handsteering for a hour or so while skipper rubs his remaining neurons together. Wheelspinning with a press of canvas in big rolling following seas is hair-raising and a better workout than any gym. Mistakes can be dangerous Skipper has feeble brainwave......perhaps the problem is due to interference when we had SSB radio on in the morning. This is common on many boats, caused by RF radiation screwing up the autohelm computer. A quick switch off and restart causes it to reset and we are saved. Phew! New Rule: only transmit when steering system is off,ie steering by hand.
Wind rises more by supper time, so Mikes halfway beef stew and canary spuds supper is by bowl in the cockpit. A 2nd reef in the main and more rolls on the genoa help a little, but we now have 2 crossing seas to contend with and a succession of squalls from astern. Speeds 7 to 9 knots but slewing all over the place.
Log extract:
"Awe inspiring sled riding down a moonlit path - big swell, loud roars, hisses, big bright foaming breakers around bow and stern. Corkscrewing into silver troughs and swells. Jupiter on top, Orion behind, and a crescent moon ahead, lighting our path. Powerful swirling images, with great silver and black shadows".
By 2000 it's blustery and gusting 30 knots and we are glad we fitted running backstays to the rig.
Early AM 1st Dec
0200 and skipper on watch. Hit by megga squall, and heavy downpour. Call the Hands and put 8 more rolls in the genoa. Off-going skipper like drowned rat. The rest of the early morning watches (Nick, then David) were equally boisterous and noisy with 30 knot gusts , and still holding 7 to 9 knot bow-slamming speeds.
Dawn breaks 0615, and below its a bit like living in a washing machine strapped to a fairground ride. Nothing stays where you put it. David and Skipper have head bumps from bulkhead battering while sleeping. Nick appears unbreakable.
Anyway tootle pip one and all as we must don frogman outfits to do deck and rig rounds.
AM Position: 16-46N; 39-05W
Mike (Buggy)
David (McAvinchey)
Nick (Moody)

29 - 30 November: Halfway and still no bleedin' fish

Whaddawewant? We want a mahi mahi or Dorado or something else blue and shiny, and we want it now. All we ever seem to do is lose bits of our lines. Many multicoloured squid and wobbling thingies have we lost and nary a tiddler to show for it. Tuesday 29th was pretty kind to us and allowed us to trundle on at 6 to 8 knots with our trademark 3 white sail rig. We could have tried harder and hoisted a large floppy coloured thingy but we had learnt not to trust that fluky little 20 knot tailwind. Or perhaps we're just lazy. Anyway today consisted of more sock drying, a bit of one armed sunspanner wrestling, cured spanish jamon and cheese, fruitcake and earl grey tea, and a bit of frantic midday battling with a burst of 25 knots with 2.5 metre swells. David discovered that pasta jars don't bounce and that gravity causes the red stuff inside to get everywhere. His tuna pasta gunge was pretty good all the same.
AM Weds 30th
Overnight last night the wind fell lighter and became more fluky, and a big crossing swell and sea gave us an uneasy corkscrewing motion which required constant helm and sail trimming. All a bit tired this morning and looking forward to our 2nd ever bacon and egg brekkie. The whole day has been declared 'half-way day' as its impossible to define exactly what half way is (time, log distance, straight line distance etc). Nick says he will have a seawater wash on deck and then bake bread and 'stick bits in it'. David says he would like a mid Atlantic swim. Difficult in a 2 metre swell....but we'll have a look this evening. Still pootling along under our strange rig, but perhaps we'll regain courage today to put up one of the coloured beasties so we can gain a few more miles. Anyway must go as brekkie preps and daily radio net calls.
Position 16d 49.4 N; 36d 8.1 W
Tootle Pip
Mike, David, & Nick on RAPAREE

29th November - Windy and Rolly Dhobey Days in the Trades

28 & 29 November
Monday morning, all bright eyed and bushy tailed today after a peaceful night's trading under a starry sky. We haven't managed to catch any whales to keep the crew occupied with scrimshaw yet, so skipper creates job list as diversionary tactic. Sock and smalls washing, loo cleaning, sleeping bag ionising, that sort of stuff. We have now cut deep into trade winds territory so a gybe to the west is needed. A 30 min fumble of poles and lines. At least nothing stuck aloft this time. Skipper would love the chute up but ruefully regards his bruises and chickens out. 6.5 knots under white sails will have to do instead. Morning radio report shows our position in the fleet to be pretty good, although one 44ft boat which had managed to achieve about the best handicap in the fleet (better than the small boats and on a par with a gaff rigged coalbarge towing a parachute) was mysteriously flying along in front at 8 knots. Hmm....
Nick instructing David on the mysteries of noon sights with the Ebco Special plastic sextant. The boat looks like a Kowloon dhoby wallah's rickshaw...draped from end to end in socks and M&S shreddies. No sign of any fish whatever, apart from little flying jobbies. One boat in the fleet has caught so many dorados that their freezer is full. Freezer...who needs one?
As I write, our eminent surgeon is washing out the loo floor wearing his surgical gloves, a matelot t-shirt and a straw boater. David, by the way, was instrumental in using tendon repair techniques to sew together our spinnaker halyard yesterday. Obviously surgeons are after all more useful on boats than naval officers. Clocks back 1 hour today as we have crossed the 30 deg W line. Although it confuses us, we have to keep doing this as the wretched sun won't stay still.
The working day turns into a very bouncy and black night with huge surf topped rollers cork-screwing us along on our beam ends. The wind gets up to over 25 or so and stays there. We have a full main, and genoa, and also a large staysail out to windward. The foresails are boomed out and preventered. Every sheet and guy has anti-chafe running blocks and lines and the main is pressed hard into the lower backstays. The new running backstays seem to be working hard to keep the mast from flexing, but, in short, we are over-pressed and the rig is twanging like Vanessa Mae's fiddle. Getting a reef in the main and genoa is a 30 min muscular struggle but once done, Raparee settles into a fast ungainly and bumpy ride. Our speed during surges between 7 and 9 knots and each phosphorescent sprayed surge is loud and furious.
Early AM Tues 29, time to lick our wounds and decide strategy for the day. We are getting in 160 mile days, and are 140 miles from our halfway point, but overpressed and still not quite going in the right direction. Our autopilot is working hard, but is continuously on full load, so a change of course and rig is essential. But fast downwind sailing course changes also mean complicated rig changes and we are all a bit whacked and bruised. Maybe if we wait a bit, the sunshine will solve it all and anyway the wind might change more in our favour......?

27 November - firmly in the Trades and battling (South)west

All up for early start untangling stuff. A crazily busy morning. Pull spinnaker halyard out of mast by sewing another halyard to its tail. This in order to replace the smashed head block. Multiple painful mast ascents. Skipper goes aloft and swearing at the waves 50ft below as he clings on with teeth while assembling and mousing 3 shackles and block at crazingly gyrating masthead (cliche warning). Job finished at 1330 with all crew feeling thrashed. Time for cheese and fruitcake. Desperate to get some revs on to improve our speed but too knackered to face up to another hoist of that devil's bag of tricks called a cruising chute. Decide that as its Sunday aft we should be happy to do some dhobeying and trundle along at 6kts under twin jibs and main. Skipper slightly pained at possible loss of rankings but tired crew make painful mitsakes for little gain. Next debate is when to turn west (which could be a slow dead downwind run) as we are now keeping the wind on the quarter to maintain speed. Sooner or later this will turn to handicap rather than gain. We've got to work out when to turn.
Still trying fishing but nowt gained except for loss of 3 traces and lures. Plenty of flying fish, but no big scary creatures. They are being kept at bay by the dreadful smells emanating from the boat. Stale bodies, rotten clothes, sour milk, cabbage, old fruit, bodily waste etc. A bit like an old bungalow in Eastbourne or Bournmouth I suppose, and when did you see any whales there? Now that reminds me, where did I put that Stenna Stairlift for the mast?
Mike, Nick, David, on RAPAREE

26 November - Into the trades, and a spot of bother (again)

26 November - Into the trades, and a spot of bother (again) We just managed to scrape in our daily 144 miles over the last 2 days, ......we need to keep up our 6 knot average. Progress is helped by our magic rig. Boomed out staysail to windward, well forward and fairly flat so it feeds wind into the genoa to fill it at all times even well offwind. This rig is almost as fast as a cruising chute and is safe and stable. We had hoped for quiet Saturday at sea, and so it started. First signs of tradewind clouds and a little less swell. Temperature definitely on the up. Getting in our stride and taking on little jobs on board. We see other boats about every 2 hours and sometimes chat on VHF. There is a big HF SSB chat session amongst the cruising section at noon daily so we can get the weather, and positions and swop banter.
Crusising chute up each afternoon once any overnight chaos has been cleared. This a very large and sometimes troublesome sail which we fly with pole, sheets, and guy, as an asymmetric spinnaker. Pulls like a trooper but a bugger to launch and recover. Up today at 1300 and crack along all afternoon. Cross 20 degrees North at 1500.
As evening arrives, our troubles begin. Time to get 'the thing' down. David is the bowman, with Nick in the cockpit and skipper faffing on deck directing. Guy and sheet slipped and the halyard run, but the sail stays firmly up while its bits begin to wrap up everything forward of the mast. Panic ensues and darkness arrives. Skipper dons his climbing gear for bumpy ascent. Ropes everywhere. Up aloft the problem is obvious. Spinnaker block mangled and halyard jammed in the remains. Skipper clinging onto 30ft arc of swing and wishing he was elsewhere and 30yrs younger. Once released, the chute falls far below into our bow wave. Battered descent to deck with mangled halyard block. Deck looks like aftermath of tsunami. Crack on with getting out big genoa and boomed out staysail. Leave the junk till tomorrow. Must keep speed up. Crew make skipper go below to cook Chili as he is getting in the way. Beer all round. All totally knackered and bruised after 3 hours of mayhem. (Fastnet race anyone?). Not looking forward to tomorrows mast climb to reinstall spinnaker halyard and block. Crossed tracks with 2 boats tonight. At least we managed a 146 mile day despite the knockbacks, and tomorrow we crack 1000 since the start.
Not looking forward to further mast-climbing.
M, D, N on RAPAREE

25 November

A busy day, but well-fed day starts at 0700. A dawn struggle on the foredeck , but after an hour all hands have fixed and untangled the wrapped cruising chute and genoa. David discovered stbd upper spreader steadily making its way through the Mainsail. 3 foot long seam split. We heave-to to reef the mainsail to bring the damage below the upper spreader and to flatten the sail to keep it off spreaders. Deployed furler genoa to stbd with boomed out no.1 staysail to port.
After David's amazing grilled cured Spanish bacon on brown bread breakfast our working day continued with reassembling the cruising chute and its bits and lowering and repairing the mainsail. Not brave enough for stitching yet so big patches were cut from a bolt of sticky-back dacron, and stuck on either side of sail. Difficult to do as even with sail lowered the job was 8 ft up and much effort was needed just clinging on to the boom.
Fishing tried again today by Nick, who is now into his 3rd lost trace, still with no visible reward. Obviously something out there bites. We probably couldnt handle it anyway even if we caught it.
First proper all sit down at table type supper this evening, for Mike's pork, beans and potato casserole.
Night watch with Orion and his friends. Counting Jupiters moons by binoculars. Rolling along in a phosphorescent spray under our strange hybrid 3-sail rig. No-one else in sight. Snoring, and other noises, and red lights below.
M, D, N

24th November............later that day!

PM 24th
Well weren't we smug today. After our Orca sighting and crossing into the tropics, things went swimmingly well. Proper Spanish lunch from our honorary spaniard, Nick. Attempted fishing for Dorado (loss of trace and squid lure thingy). Successful hoist of big asymmetric cruising chute, flown as a spinnaker. Flew straight and level until sunset and opened out the miles. Then came our problems. Never leave things too late. It gets dark very quickly very early in this here parish, and we weren't ready. When it came to lowering, boy did things go wrong. We got most of the sail down but the halyard and snuffing system took great delight in tying knots at the top of the mast so that a mess of lines and haliards now decorate the forestay trapping the genoa and leaving us a tangle of loose and flapping sail around the bow and forestay. We rig the inner forestay and struggle to raise our No1 staysail which we pole out. It pulls, but not as well as the real thing and so we limp along for the rest of the night at a more sedate pace. We stare forlornly at the mess on the foredeck and wonder grimly which eejit goes up the stick tomorrow to attack the tangle aloft.
M, D, N on Raparee

Raparee Days 4 to 5 (23/24 Nov) Nearly Tropeeecal

Busy couple of days rolling along, still under main and poled out genny. Speeds between 5.5 and 7.5 knots. Daily runs so far between 140 and 168. If poss we'd like to keep at least 144 (6 knot average). Amazingly starry night last night and nicve soft evening breeze. Time to get out the books and study the star pointers. Spagh Bol last night, and our first beers since leaving. Crossed VERY close (feet) from another yacht in pitch blackness (in silence). We very slowly left him astern...the conditions suited us, so he may well catch us later.
Nick got a shock during the morning watch as he heard this snort and saw a huge fin only feet away ahead of us. It was over 20ft long, and an Orca, according to the guide pics. It turned away very quickly just in time and we missed him by inches.
This morning's celebration was the crossing of the Tropic of Cancer, at 0730 ships time. Tiny tots of Cap'n Morgan's Rum were knocked back and phots in cockpit.
From Nick:
There was an old boat in the ARC
Whose crew were partial to shark
while on a dead run,
they landed a big one
But its bite was bad for their barque
David has entered a one man beard growing competition and has taken to wearing a mediaeval doge's hat.
Mike B
Nick M
Dr David Mc

All boomed out and plodding along.

Yesterday evening ended with a squall and showers, right in the middle of our boomed out goosewinging experiments. Also enjoying the ride was a large family of striped dolphins keen to show off their surfing skills, with the more extrovert ones taking to the air right over the bow. Manage our first decent 'all settled in all crew together' type meal (tuna and pasta gunge) since leaving Las Palmas. Skipper manages first all over wash using only eggcup full of hot water. Also put our clocks back, so now we're more confused, as the concept of creating our own time zones whenever we like is weird. I think we should go forward 6 hours on alternate days.
Mike the Skip
Dr Dave Mc
Nick the (ex) Pongo

22nd November - Day 3: Rolling about a bit

Here we are miles from anywhere. 3 men in a boat. Shambolic I can tell you. Not in keeping with naval tradition. Some of the crew failed to wash to day. One hasn't even washed this month. Very rolly out here on the briny. Difficult to keep up with my knitting. We have a competition on board to make welcome mats out of beard hair and baggywrinkle out of another type of curlier hair. This is in total contrast to the rest of the fleet who are surging ahead under double poled parasailers while catching 30ft Dorado for filleting for their freezers. We are so far behind that we are thinking of joining next years ARC as well. David keeps cutting himself. I think its accidental although it could also be a cry for help. Nick was sick a few times but this might have been a direct result of my mushroom and red pepper casserole. I have only slept fitfully in crumpled positions wherever I last fell over.
Must go as the front sail keeps wobbling a bit and the back one looks very tight. Waves here are very big and wet but the water inside them is mostly fairly warm but it doesn't go with the carpets.
Skipper Mike
+ Dave + Nick on RAPAREE

5-15 November at Las Palmas

Working away on boat at snags of all sorts. Fridge and main SSB radio playing up. Fridge is old and can't get spares or support. Radio engineers on the island are all busy with mega yachts right until we are due to leave. Radio is a must for the ARC so its all a bit of a pain in the butt. If I can get the radio working then I will be able to post simple messages on the blog via an HF Radio/Web service provider called SailMail. Alternatively, I may get someone ashore to put blogs in and I will try and get basic text to them via SSB.
Las Palmas is very busy for the ARC season. About 250 extra boats and 1500 extra yotties crammed into the marina. The little cafes and bars are crammed as hell. Its all a bit like the Anchor Bar in Cowes week. There are some huge beasties here, and I don't mean the womenfolk of this manor. There are Oyster 80's, Discovery 90's, and Swan 75's, and thats just the small ones. Some of the more bling boaties have ickle underwater floodlights for the mullet to see where they are going.
Its been a damn busy 10 days or so and the boat down below looks like the aftermath of a tsunami. Haven't had a chance to get any tourist stuff in. Prob have to come back in the future. Seems a nice place, although I hadn't realised Las Palmas is a world transgender/transexual hotspot. Read into that what you like. You do see an unusual type of dress sense out and about on the streets.
1st of noo crew joins this PM. David Mac the Irish surgeon. 2nd new crew joins Thursday. Nick, experienced sailor and ex-pongo chappy now living in Spain. Should help with the lingo over the last few days I guess. Anyway must get o as busy fings to do. Sorry once again about the photos. No time and no facilities.
Will try and do one more before transatlantic arc departure on Sunday.

5-6 November. Morro Jable to Las Palmas GC

Apologies for the delays everyone. This is about my 10th  attempt to update the blog. Unfortunately getting consistently reliable wifi has been a pain in the butt. I've got lots of photos but pretty difficult to find the time to edit and download them.
We (myself and Min, my sister, from Dublin) left Morro Jable at the bottom of FuerteV at 0530 last Sat morning, after spending an hour unshackling our chains and snubbers. It was forecast to be a 4.6m swell day, but at least the wind was to be in the right direction. It was a dramatic dawn with cold katabatic winds sweeping down from the barren hills and a lowering dawn sky and a pale ghost of a moon. As we needed to keep well south of the lighthouse and final  headland to avoid offlying rocks we carried on motor-sailing until well after dawn. The first few hours of this little 55 mile trip were a rough old ride with a mighty big swell up the stern. Finally by late morning the sky cleared, the sun came out, and we found ourselves rolling along under single reefed main at 7.5 kts towards the N coast Gran Canaria.
Land-ho by 1230 and the rest was a bit of a routine ship avoidance and coasting exercise.
Las Palmas is a big bustling busy harbour with lots of stuff at anchor and much movement of container ships and cruise liners. The yacht marina, muelle derportivo, is tucked into the inner left hand side of the harbour.
We got in just in time to see the harbour office closing for the day so we were left to our own devices at the reception pontoon along with some mighty fancy big yachts. In fact Las Palmas is full of ginagorous superyachts. Swan and Oyster 80's are just so 'now' at the moment. Must get one.
Anyway its 0049 now and I'm falling asleep so back later.

2-4 Nov 2011 - Puerto Castilio to Morro Jable

Amazingly starlit evening at Puerto Castilio. Jupiter so clear and bright thats its moons can be seen with the knackered eye. Even better with binos. As we're now only at 28 or so North most stuff is in unfamiliar positions to our Northern eye. Anyway I digress. Call the hands 0430 but slow start. Pitch black. Squeeze our way out. Sea lumpy. Bloody wind on the nose. Typical. This part of the Canaries is famed for its steady N'ly winds. What do we get?. Bloody SW'lies...and fresh as well. This coast is a long and exposed one in this wind direction. We start a long and tedious day of motor-sailing-tacking. The land hereabouts is very dramatic. Great sandy seeps and dunes with huge volcanic backdrop. Little white med-style villages clinging to sun scorched rocky headlands. Here and there huge ugly anglo german holiday splurges of concrete and towel bedecked sun loungers.
The plan was to head for the Southern end of Fuerte, the cat's tail, and find shelter for the night before taking on the 60 miles of rather exposed open ocean between us and Gran Canaria. This would not be a problem in the normal prevailing airstream, but for us I saw problems ahead. Not that I let on to Min. All the advertised anchorages were exposed with a big surf running. The swell forecast was for 4 metres. The only nearby harbour, Morro Jable, was a commercial one. The scant information I had was that yachts could only use it if they had applied to a central government agency 2 weeks in advance on a special form. A not unusual procedure for some of the lesser ports in the Canaries.
We didnt have much choice, we would either have to run back up the coast or chance our luck to the harbour authorities. I was getting tired and night and darkness were nigh. It didnt help my state of mind that there were 2 huge ferries in the harbour rising and falling on the swell. Their tail ramps were banging and scraping up and down the slipways making violent bellowing sounds like those of huge distant minotaurs, leviathans, dinosaurs, and scary things of that ilk. Anyway in we swept on the entry surf and thankfully found ourselves some space amongst some raggle taggle pontoons of local boats. By heck was it bouncy though. The boat was dancing around like Michael Flatley dying for a wee. Hundreds of springs, chains, bicycles, bungee, tyres, warps etc would be needed to keep us within jumping ashore distance of our pontoon.
Anyway once we had recovered it was off to see El Capitano in the Port Offices. Briefcase bulging with every piece of paperwork on board. He turned out to be a pleasant and welcoming chap, and our fee was only about E11. Min thought he was a very handsome chap indeed, in his taut well tailored crisp ghardia theevil type uniform. In fact I was so relieved I even thought he was as well.
Off to town 2kms over the hills to the biggest Eurospar I've ever seen. Bulging with everything.
Really great meal ashore in the big dockside fisherman's cooperative cafe/bar/restaurant. Amazing mix of grilled fresh fish.
VERY bouncy night alongside. Much chafing, rubbing, and snatching. Up lots of times to adjust our bits. I realise these activities might seem a bit strange, but rest assured they were not the results of us inviting the George Cloon-alike Port Captain to spend the night on board.

Friday 4th Sunny and blowing with the odd rain squall. At least its 28 degrees. Awaiting a weather window for the crossing. Forecast for 20 kts on the nose with 4 metre swell. Going down later to 15 knots on the beam so I think we'll pay El Capitano a bit more and bide a wee while in our bouncy jerky berth.

TAFNF and TTFN. MB & crew on RAPAREE at Morro Jabel.

2 November 2011 Marina Rubicon Southward

Hup and away early to shake orft the marina cobwebs. Took about 100 hours to unshackle the Houdini like web of warps and odds and ends holding us on. New crew Min still nervously learning her clovehitches from her mainbraces as we pull away. Great waves from our neighbours and blown xxx's from the Columbian bar landlady with the big tankards. Clear of the breakwater and its a quick MOB evolution for Min who gets her man after N attempts. Always do that with new crew as its also tests out the boat as well. Course for Islas Lobos across the narrow straits to Fuerteventura.
Narrow little anchoring area on the south of this little island just off a rocky pier. Dropped the pick. Must be out of practice as ended up only a few yards from (probably rightly) grumpy couple in steel Belgian yachty. Put them right off their sausage frites and strudel, probably. Anyway SHE kept her back to us and refused to smile. Dropped back a bit more and all was well. Not enough time to get the rubberdubby up and explore as need to get away to get a safe refuge for the night halfway down the rocky Fuerte coast. Quick scramblers and bacon for brunch and up anchor. Leaving the anchorage Min discovered the colour of adrenaline. She was driving and heading straight for a sailing school bateau lying peacefuly at anchor. She had a sudden fit of lapin gelee dan les phares not helped by my casual shout from below of 'oh pass it either side, but just make sure one side is not too shallow'. Scream of anguish from helm, and startlement on the deck of the opposition.
Eventually off we went hurtling down the coast of Fuerte. Varying conditions iron topsail to 1 reef wind on nose. Zilch wildlife or fishy creatures.
Amazing indigo and purple sunset. Dark very early and this is a poorly lit coast, with few safe anchorages for our unusual mostly onshore wind direction. Eventually we find the little port of Castilio for which we have only out of date and conflicting info.  However, all the info says 'difficult and dangerous, fringed by reefs, do not enter at night'. What few lights there are are supposed to be visible 3 to 5 miles but we see none. Gingerly (never sure what that means but seems appropriate) we approach where we think the entrance might be. Eventually we find a tiny red buoy lit by a Woolworths 1.5v battery and torch bulb. Soon after a green ditto. Inside the tiny port there is barely room to swing a lamp so we squeeze alongside a ramshackle finger pier. Probably an illegal berth but the harbourmaster has long gone home. MB's legs still shaking with the adrenaline pumping tension of it all. Short but welcome rest afer a chicken curry gunge ready for callthehands@0430orso.com (just made that one up). TAFNF. spk l8r. MB

28 Oct - 1 Nov mostly at Marina Rubicon Lanzarote

Marina Rubicon is also a 'yachtsman's marina', perhaps more so than Puerto Calero, with plenty of liveaboards, and world travellers. The 'One Bar' is the must place for beer quaffing and the spinning of sailors yarns. Its run by a Columbian woman with a delightful smile and a zest for partying. The bar is frequented by all nationalities with a sort of english/dutch/german hybrid as the lingua franca.
For us the Friday 28th was a recovery day after too much beer and too many late night tales. Sadly, this was also Sean's departure day so he was whisked away by taxi at 0930, leaving me for the first time for a long time alone with the boat and my endless joblists and a hangover.
I now had a long weekend to tidy up the boat and catch up on jobs before my sister Min from Dublin joined on Monday. Was I industrious in this time?....Did I achieve much?..... Well no. A kind of indolence set in, tinged by self pity and wanton highly focus inefficiency. I did some walks, drank some beer, assembled and rode my bike. I tinkered around the frayed edges of my endless job lists. A bit like life really.
I also spent some time and  money fighting the swell in the harbour. The harbour is prone to surge when the ocean swell is high. We are starboard side to and I have an anchor chum on the stbd bow line, big metal coilsprings on the main fore and aft spring-lines, and rubber snubbers on the aft and port bow lines and a large snubber on a midships port line pulling us off the berth. We still creak and groan away all night like a down channel galleon.
Close neighbours are Colin, a live-aboard environmental journalist, on an Ovni 40, and Matthew on his very smart and sleek new 45 foot Cruising X-boat.
Over the weekend I eventually manage to deploy my various homemade covers and bimini over the cockpit and although its only the prototype held together by bungee and masking tape the whole ensemble looks rather smart.
On Mon 31st Colin and I help Matthew take Pau Amma out of the water by travelhoist so he can do some minor epoxy touching up work and scrubbing.
Min arrived by air as planned on Monday PM. She is rather tired out by the pressures of work so I decide to stay here an extra day before heading south to Fuerteventura. Plan then is to leave here early Wednesday morning 2 Nov to anchor off isla lobos at the top of  Fuerteventura before then progressing down the E coast of thsat island.Possible make the long passage from Fuerte to Gran Canaria on Friday or Saturday.
Nothing else exciting to report except that Min's finger was bitten by a parrot on Playa Blanca waterfront, and that the mullet here are even bigger and more numerous than elsewhere. Also a chinaman in an Indian shop sold me a straw hat. Much more in keeping with my air of impoverished gentility than the standard  British yachtsman's 'wally hat'.
I would really love to post photos but its really a pain in the proverbial. Most wifi signals so far have only been fast enough to allow the passage slow and halting text. I've now got a huge backlog of photos to put on. But how when & where?
Speak soon old things.

22-27 Oct at Lanzarote

Early Sunday morning, Chris Chadwick abandoned ship at Puerto Calero for his flight home. Well that was his plan...but he got the time wrong....his flight was in the evening. He returned shortly with a hire car and took charge of a full island tour. Amazing volcanic landscape. Everything built of black lava. Strange moonscapes and huge cacti. Tourist camel trains on the hills in the sunset. Here and there a sprinkle of not very pretty mini-Benidorms. Interesting place but a pretty stark and harsh landscape. Having sated ourselves on the fleshpots of Calero time to move on. Great sail yesterday tacking upwind at 7kts on a flat sparkling sea down the coast to Marina Rubicon where we now lie awaiting the next crew change. Sean flies out tomorrow and my sister Min arrives from Dublin on Monday. Next leg then starts to Fuertaventura en route to Gran Canaria.   Weather here quite warm (25 ish) but a bit changeable. Afternoon showers are common and each volcano wears a little hat of rain cloud. Boat OK apart from the odd sail seam and a slight propshaft rumble.
Went to boatyard yesterday to see what they would charge for a travelhoist lift out to check prop and bottom etc. 185 plus tax for 2 hours, or 285 for overnight. So I won't be doing that then!
Alas I have no new outlandish salty dits to tell, and I've now got a diabolical cold and cough. Probably caused by lack of Guinness. Must try and find some but difficult in this heavily lagerised region.

18th - 22nd Oct. Mainland Europe to Islas Canarias

Hello there to be sure to be sure to be sure.
Departed Lagos, S Portugal, on Tuesday 18th for the 600 odd mile crossing to Lanzarote. After saying goodbye to the luvverly Gill, who took tran for Faro, the crew now consisted of ace wafoo pilot Chris Chadwick, Dublin ARGE (all round good egg) engineer Sean O Toole,  and meself.
Boring first day of many hours motoring followed by 4 or 5 days of fast downwind and rolly sailing. Single reefed preventered main and poled out 4 rolled genoa goose-wung all the way. Longest downwind run since the old king died don't you know. Rolling like buggery with the old Nelsonian bucket close at hand in case the gills went a bit grey, Plenty of 7 and 8 knot watches. All hands practised at being Ebco plastic sun spanner mechanics, but kissing the lower limb on the storm tossed main is a fine art and few of us managed a cocked hat of less than the size of argentina. Good job we had some of these new fangled GP-whatsits on board.
Although I say so myself, the food on this leg was jolly excellent. Each watch trying to outdo each other,,,,why we even had creme brulee and coq au vin for breakfast. Actually that was leftovers, but very nice all the same.
NO denizens of the deep or Cetacians of any sort. Not even any birds. Very sad. Caught one horse macarel, which was instantly devoured by the crew, so I had to wait a few hours before I could grill it.
Dawn on day 5 brought us the dramatic peaks of Lanzarote (I havent told you about Dawn yet. Nice girl. We keep her in the forepeak as a sort of sailor's comforter).
Wind dropped to zilch on last day, Saturday, so we motor along the E Coast of Lanza dropping in on Arecife and other places for a look-see on our way Sarf. Stupidly I've got very little in the way of charts for this neck of the woods, so I drew some pictures of imaginary islands in my school notebook instead and we use those. I've corrected them for GPS use so they should be OK. The heavens opened on us for most of the afternoon. First rain since leaving Brest in early Sep. Warm and wet.
Amazingly, just as the soft mantle of darkness settled on our weary shoulders we slipped into the rather upmarked Riviera-like marina of Puerto Calero. Here, even the binman wears Armani.
Anyway must sign orft as Chris has to get up early to catch his plane home. Busy 4 day maintainance period about to start. Loads of defects and boat not ready for Captings rounds at all at all.
ps,There is a brand new 160 ft Royal Huismann Ketch here in this harbour.........rumour has it that 100 mill of mulah was needed for her purloination. Very beautiful, but can they do porridge, rescue a stricken spithead pheasant, and wield a can spanner like we can? I sink not.
More later.

pps very sorry about disjointed nature of blog but its been difficult to find places where i can post. Also speeds etc have been too slow for photos. Will try to get some photos on ASAP while in this here marina.

Wednesday 12 Oct – Lisbon to Sesimbra and Thursday 13 Oct – Sesimbra to Sines – the day of the sooty shearwater

Wednesday 12 Oct – Lisbon to Sesimbra

Call the Hands at 0645 and away under Alcantara basin swing bridge by 0730. Motor into Tagus (Teijo) at downstream to Fort Bugio (with a name like that I should own it). Great photo opps as we pass under suspension bridge and along waterfront.

Thursday 13 Oct – Sesimbra to Sines – the day of the sooty shearwater

Leave this pleasant port at 1100 and head south along coast towards our last west coast port, Sines. Decided to stream our very tired fishing line. Instant hit by circling big grey bird. Trying to hold him burnt my hand. He didn’t like being towed backwards at 5 knots either. Sooty Shearwaters are very big, the size of a large Christmas goose, and VERY strong. Unable to hold the line against his swim stroke. We back the boat up to him with me hanging off the Self steering gear. Don safety glasses and gloves (I’ve been attacked by these things before and had the scars to prove it). Managed to grab his feet and hoik him up while he squawked loudly and then clamped onto my foot with his huge beak. Managed to work hook free from his thick leathery webbing of one foot. Not too big a hole and no blood. Once released he looked indignant then fluffed himself up and skedaddled. 

Saturday 15 Oct - Sines to Cape St Vincent and Sunday 16 Oct – Cape St Vincent to Lagos (no, not the one in Nigeria)

Saturday 15 Oct - Sines to Cape St Vincent

To bed after our slipway antics at 0030 for a few hours sleep broken by regular hull checks. Up for the tide on the slipway at 0330 and start refloating preps. Heavy fog outside. Attempt to stay alongside wall at first but swell a bit too much. Move out to a finger pontoon for a few hours sleep until fog goes. Leave Sines 0745 for VERY long day of southward plodding with variable winds and sloppy swell. Engine on and off rather a lot and now seems happy giving 5.3Kts at 2Krpm. Swell and wind rise towards evening as we approach the great Cape….the SW-most point of the European mainland. We round the Cape just after darkness and look for a suitable bay or cove to drop a pick beneath the wild and remote cliffs. Eventually we anchor in pitch blackness below and in the lee of towering cliffs within the sound of the pounding surf. Good proving ground for old CQR type anchors!

Sunday 16 Oct – Cape St Vincent to Lagos (no, not the one in Nigeria)

Up at the crack of knackered and rolling gently at anchor just off the frightening surf and craggy cliffs to the East of the Cape. Thank god for GPS and strong anchors. At getting up time, fingers of sunrise stretch over the ……right enough of that cliché ridden stuff. Gobsmacked to see madmen fishing OFF THE TOP OF THE 200FT CLIFFS in high winds. Sheer drop into boiling sea and all that stuff. Like fishing off, well very tall dark cliffs with a sheer drop into the sea (please supply your own simile/cliché). Wonder if their mummies/wives know what they are doing. ..or perhaps they are mummies/wives. Up anchor and course for Lagos along the Algarve coast. Not very Algarvey as overcast and blowing its socks off from the East, the very direction wot we want to go in. This means gut tumbling tacking for severeal (sic) hours over a rolling wave crossed swell. I’m afraid certain of the crew succumbed to what is properly known hereabouts as marmalade of the black bucket, and continued to do so for many hours. Also caught one ginagorous mackerel the size of a small horse. Got into a bouncy Lagos harbour entrance at teatime and were parked in nice big marina type place by friendly staff. Harbour full of other travelling types. 1^st night free courtesy of ARC rally. So that’s .00001% of my entry fee back!

Friday 14 Oct – at Sines – Vasco Da G and Slipway antics.

Visit old Beau-Gest type Fort, and also our navigational hero Vasco da Gama, at least his statue, and old home. Ramble round this quiet fishing village which is within the distant moles of a huge outer commercial harbour. Gill goes for swim off nice beach, while we suss out possibilities of refuelling and then using the slipway to dry out to check prop and make some pitch adjustments. Staff agree for 19E. No dirty work, antifouling or oil as harbour is pristine.

1515 Refuel (110E, cash only, at pontoon, then 1600 drive onto slipway to await settling just after HW. Out fender board and all fenders. Jerrycans, dinghy, sails, and anything heavy laid on port deck. Masthead to shore. Loads of ropes and lines to bollards. She settles at 1630 and by 2000 is pointing bow skyward with bottom exposed. Slipway is as slippy as ice below my feet as, in wetsuit, I get stuck into the delicate task of dismantling the stripper to get at the back of the prop boss to remove the pitch cassette. Lots of tiny split pins and allen keys….just the stuff for a pitch black slippery slipway while knee deep in water. Eventually get new pitch cassette in and prop and stripper reassembled. Next got to re-fill prop with grease. No grease gun! Eventually manage to find someone still in the yard at 2300 prepared to lend one although it has to be emptied and filled with our own ‘Featherstream’ grease. Job eventually done but to sketchy engineering standards.

Tuesday 11 Oct - Raparee’s big day out in Lisbon

Great and satisfyingly tiring day out in sweltering heat. Best for us was the old Castle and its grounds. Great views and tremendous atmosphere. Highly Recommended.  Indifferent tourist lunch in cobbled square by Castle.  The waterfront to the West of the centre is also great, with the Monument of Discoveries and the strangely out of place looking Tower of Belem. Spectacular sunset and moonrise over the huge Tagus suspension bridge. Cruise liners by the score departing. PM light meal in classy waterfront café and old fashioned tram back to boat for hot chocolate with whiskey. Will definitely go back to Lisbon. 

Sunday 9 Oct – at Peniche and Monday 10 Oct – Peniche to Cascais or Lisbon, and new crew joins.

Sunday: Shopping by folding bike. MB amuses market stall holders by eating raw hot pepper and then collapsing in steaming heap. Long walk to opposite coast of peninsular PM. Beers in village. 

Monday AM. Slip away early dawn. Slip keys under HM’s door and climb over fence back to boat. Wind up and down like a yo-yo. Amazing 1^st mates breakfast of salmon, cheddar, and scrambled eggs.

1520 passing Cascais….decision made to continue for Lisbon as its further down out track, and more interesting, and probably cheaper. Enter Tagus estuary 1700. Very picturesque. Fantastic sight of the great red 3-tier Tagus suspension bridge. Pass under bridge as new crew’s Faro train is crossing it.

Finally dock in Doca de Alcantera, Lisbon at 1850. New Crew, Gill Browne, from Carlow, Ireland, finally gets to us at 1900. Quiet curry and whiskey meal aboard.

Saturday 8 Oct – Leixoes to Peniche Day 2

After much rocking and rolling on a moonlit and swelly sea we round up between the headland and offlying island at 0600 and secure alongside the little fishing harbour by 0645. Here we are met by the local night watchkeeper with whom we had a loud and interesting conversation, none of which either of us could understand. I’m pretty certain he told us that our exit and entry passes for the marina security gate were made of seaweed and could be obtained on Wednesdays from Lisbon and that my hat was dirty and that his wife was a weightlifter and had lumbago. He, in turn, understood from us that we were wearing corduroy underpants and ate only lentils. Anyway got to bed after whiskey at 0800. Woken at 1100 by serious looking girl in SAS uniform, with clipboard and Walther PPK in shoulder holster. Chris quickly gets dressed properly to attend the inevitable GNR inquisition in the cockpit. To show my right to be angry if I want to I turn up grimly and grumbling, naked except for my disreputable shreddies. Chris and the girl are embarassed. She’s seen it all before of course and isn’t fazed in the least. I mumble around for a bit and then, realising my folly, retire below to lick my wounds.

Good working day at Peniche followed by gentler run ashore for meal PM.                  

Friday 7th Oct. A rolly trip -Leixoes to Peniche

Intention to depart for Nazare about 60 miles south, or even further to Peniche (about 100Nm). First some jobs.Mike dons skimpy wetsuit and carefully slips beneath the murky mullet laden water beneath the boat on a daring mission to view the prop. Atlantic waters are very cold and the prop only gets a brief look. All appears to be intact but without nerves of steel a detailed inspection is impossible. Very fresh N'ly wind and big seas building. Sounds dreadful from inside marina. Pay our 18E/day and say our farewells. Slip 1230 ish. Once outside we dodge the fishing boats and rig for heavy running with 1 reef, 5 rolls, preventer and genoa pole. The wind and seas build steadily during the day so eventually we are double reefed with a goosewinged scrap of a genoa. Rolling our gunwhales under and thankful I fitted an extra high swan-neck to the engine exhaust outlet. Rough?......don't look behind folks....is that a large block of flats following us? Deafening noise. The aft cabin looks like its been in a washing machine spin cycle. The pain in the ass bit is the wind keeps shifting making us reverse all this poled out and preventered stuff every few hours....right through the night. I can tell you that at the age of 200 crawling on your bum on a heaving deck in the dark to retrieve the flogging wotsitsname thingummy for the n-th time is only funny once and a load of total poo thereafter. On the pos side we passed the 1000 miles from home point at 2300 and boat speed has been good, averaging well over 7.5 knts for the 115 mile to Peniche where we have decides to run to as Nazare looked a bit dodgy with a big sea running.
Easy entrance to well-sheltered harbour at 0630 where we squeeze into the tiny marina. Met instantly by security guard who is helpful but totally incomprehensible......but then so are we to him.

Thursday 6th Oct: Porto visit

Big day out in Porto. Morning bus (no. 507 if ever you need to know) for 40 min drive to Porto central. Great city, bustling with tourists, but very friendly and easy to walk around. Pretty hilly in places with loads of dodgy back alleyways and mazes of laneways. Quite run down in places, but very quaint and chracterful. Port and sherry and trinket shops everywhere. Nice buildings and balconies. The old city is on the banks of the Duoro river gorge and a stroll along both banks is a must. There are several high bridges across the Duoro gorge and all are worth taking a look at. We signed on for ‘The 6 Bridges Cruise’ which was a worthwhile excursion. 2 of the older iron bridges are spectacular and were also Eiffel designed or inspired. The cruise also gives free entry to a tour of the Croft’s/Taylor’s Port/Sherry Distilliery. The walk across the Duoro on the top level of the main steel bridge is spectacular. The top deck carries a fast tramway and 2 footpaths. There are no high safety fences and nothing to stop anyone ending their days by either the ground to air method (300 ft freefall) or ground to ground method (tram squash). A more refreshing approach to ‘Elf n Safety’.

A good supper of sardines and salad and a carafe of local vinho branco in one of the bankside cafes and we were away back on our No 507.to Leixoes port.

Wednesday 5th Oct: Leixoes

Motor into Leixoes inner harbour and marina. Even though the main harbour is absolutely huge, the marina is bijou and rather old-fashioned. Not too many gin palaces and quite a few liveaboards and travellers. Nice atmosphere. Not dirty as has been said in some publications. No management available in the office however because its Republican Day and the whole of Porto is en fete. Bike ashore for 20min bike ride to spar shop in nearest town.

Chris decides to devote WHOLE day to cutting apart the stern anchor warp’s braid to chain splice as this has been subject to UV exposure for many years. Rebuilding the splice was a balls aching job. Good job he wasn’t asked to do HMS Victory’s!

Tuesday 4th Oct. Viana do C southwards to Leixoes

Slow stumbling start. Eventually struggle into town to find the start of the funicular railway to the heights above the town. Visit ginagorous over-the-top basilica at the top of the peak. Very ornate. 200 steps back down into town. Visit old town. Quite pretty squares and churches. Pretty decent lunch in street café. Very warm with sea breeze building. Left at 1630 with a cheery wave from the bridge operator. Out at sea the evening Portuguese Northerly Trades building and its not long before we are reefed again and running wing and wing, keeping up some good hourly averages. Dark fairly early and shipping building up. Viz not great so AIS comes in useful. Commercial traffic getting heavier as we approach Porto area. Good fast eventful night sailing for Chris. Around 2200 we get a wonderful visit from a playful dolphin family. Streaking wakes of phosphorescence. They are clearly showing off to us and trying to catch our eye. Rolling tumbling and snorting and accelerating away. Their sleek muscular bodies are outlined underwater by a ghostly trail of bubbles.

Wind drops as dramatically as it arose and by 2230 we are motoring around the dark outer breakwater of Leixoes ('leashwoes') harbour. Rather than brave the intricacies of the inner harbour and marina we decide to anchor in the outer harbour off the beach in 5m.  Propshaft/Prop making worrying grumbling/rubbing sounds, and so is the skipper. Hope its not too serious

Monday 3rd Oct. Baiona & Atlantic Isles to Viana do Castelo

Calm misty morning at Ria Vigo's Atlantic Islands. Great sunrise at 0800. Set sail southwards at 0930, heading for our first Portuguese town, Viana do Castelo , just over the border. Very little wind to start with, with several hours of motoring down the distant misty coast and dodging lobster pots. Joined by friendly dolphins at mid morning. A strengthening North Westerly sea breeze picks up rapidly in the late afternoon until eventually we are bowling along well preventered up, reefed down, and genoa part rolled. Once we round up into the bay we find the harbour entrance is wide and safe, and is bordered by a popular kite-surfing beach.

Quick radio call to marina. Pedestrian swing bridge across marina entrance is opened for us. Much shouting hollering and jeering from shore and alongside boats. More shouting back from bridge controller. Slanging match with us in the middle. Finally dawned on us that we had left Spanish flag up! Extraordinarily embarassing for this crack team to make such a gaffe. Very helpful and friendly harbour staff help us with fore aft pick-up mooring line bows-to type berth. Evening coffee and beers in little yacht club bar overlooking river and the impressive old 2 storey Eiffel designed road and rail bridge bridge. Chat to friendly French couple on their Jenneau 40

Sunday 2nd Oct. Baiona to Atlantic Isles

Boat preps and jobs. Pay many euro-dollars for our stay (several hundred!) Pay many more euro-dollars for many litres of diesel. Depart early evening for the Atlantic Isles. Beautiful calm sunny evening. Our worries about being able to anchor in the Atlantic Isles National Park were put to rest when we saw the 7 million locals still at anchor, despite it being a Sunday evening. Lovely sunset over the Vigo estuary.Very clear bottom so could see our anchor at depth. It'salways nice to go to bed knowing you have a clear bottom.

Saturday 1st Oct - Harbour full of giant mullet

More mullets here than at a Status Quo convention! More boat jobs and shopping. Chris Chadwick arrives and gets lost. Use bike and mobile to track him down. Scout around harbour looking for a slipway to use to examine prop and perhaps alter its pitch. Not possible to dry out against the wall to 'elf 'n safety' apparently.

29 & 30 Sep at Baiona

Arrived back at Baiona from UK very late PM Thurs 29th after a pretty tacky old trip and not much sleep the night before. Flight was fine, but sadly Vigo airport buses do not serve Vigo's main bus station, and as taxis are expensive, getting to Baiona was a bit of a struggle, to say the least. 3 or 4 buses, much waiting, and a lot of help from innocent bystanders eventually got me back aboard.
Awoke feeling cr*p and tired on30th, so my mega list of jobs for Friday got off to a very slow start. The only answer was to avoid work altogether and assemble my bike for a bit of town exploration and a supermarket visit. Once I'd remembered to keep on the right, it was great to be back on 2 wheels dodging the tourists and juggernauts. I was also cheered up no end by discovering in the supermarket tinned red peppers, and cartons of passable sangria for 96c.

4 - 7 Sep at Camaret sur Mer Brittany

After a pretty dull grey lumpy 36hr down-channeler we anchored overnight at Anse des Blancs Sables in the Chenal du Four in the early hours of Sat 3 Sep. Whiskey and zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz ( a pattern to be repeated many times later, I'm sure).  Up at Oh!-crack-sparrow fart to catch last of tide down Le Four and into Goulet de Brest. Very busy in the bay with several races and regattas under way.

As the forecast is rather pooo-ey, we decide to roost awhile across the bay at Camaret, with its old ruined fishing boats, the fetes and tourists, and its disney-like Vauban tower. Throughout our first day and night our ears were assaulted by the constant crapalogical (sp?) noises from the worlds least tasteful fair spread along the harbour-side. Shore-side facilities were very end-of-termish and dark.
Much of our stay was rainy and blustery, and to be honest, the weather wasn't that good either.

Walks and meals and beers ashore. Much watching of the meteo and grib files. Waiting for the coat-tails of hurricane Irene to whip the Bay into a frenzy. Big swells forecast and ginagorous winds for several days to come.
We befriended (is this the correct tense?) 2 german boats, the one a minmalist wooden 26ft Wharram cat skippered by an adventurous journalist, Christian, on a soul finding solo mission of the Zen/Motessier type, the other a 30 year old Arpege skippered by the brave Merle, an elfin and bright German girl, already well known in the German yachting press, perhaps as something akin to the young Ellen Mcarthur.She was on her current mission to sail from Berlin to Portugal by any means.
 
One day, our new found friend, Christian, scoured the shore for as much natural seafood (and probably some un-natural stuff as well, if I'm honest) as he could find so that in the evening we had a mighty cook-in on the pontoon between the boats, followed by a long guitar and singing jam session. I'd never had singing jam before but it was alot better than the sneering marmite)












Seeing that not too many easy breaks were set to appear in the wake of Hurricane Irene, Merle asked if she could crew with us as far as Portugal. Seeing her enthusiasm and obvious galley skills (ho ho. nice to get the patronizing chauvinist bits in first) we readily agreed. What a good decision that turned out to be, particularly as 2 old men such as Bill & I are not designed to cope with glaring at each other's navels indefinitely.
Finally around noon on Weds 7th, the portents look good-ish, so we fuelled and watered up and set out for the long and pretty tedious upwind motor sail out to the outer Raz rocks south of Brest and Douarnenez. This flog took us until long after midnight before we could set course across the Bay for NW Spain. Of course, typically, we could not actually set course as the wind was bang on the nose, and so it stayed for the next 3 days!

(Skippers Note: A happy picture, put in to boost morale, and not truly representative as most of Biscay was grey as were the crew, apart from Merle who just smiled and worked hard. Bloody women).

26 Sep 2011. At home for the Cornwall wedding

Only seems like yesterday I flew into Heathrow from Coruna. Son Tom, & Amanda's, wedding at Tintagel in Cornwall was absolutely spiffing, apart from the Cornish aerosol rain all Sat afternoon and evening. Nice old Norman church. Key players in tails and cravats. Reception and hog roast in a large yurty type wigwammy teepee type thingy in a field overlooking rocky Trebarwith Strand. Much food, music, and liquid stuff. Everyone behaved, more or less.

The rest of the 10 days home has been a blur of sorting out, arranging stuff, and bill paying. Picked up a new lump of metal to stick inside the new feathering prop boss to adjust pitch to get better speed per revs as current performance of new prop is about the same as the liberal party conference....noisy but not going anywhere fast. Its got lots of small bits to fit. Apparently do-able undewater. Perhaps if one was a cross between Buster Crabbe and Rudolph Nureyev it might be. Must learn the Spanish for "how much to crane the boat out for 4 hours"

Friends & neighbours at home have been amazingly helpful with house & admin stuff. Can't thank you all enough. Also lots of advice from experienced blue water persons....thank you all again.

Booked Vueling flight back to Vigo this Thursday. Gives me a chance to fix leaks and tidy boat before new crew Chris joins in Baiona on Sat. Maybe even get a chance to see the town and have a beer or 3. Plan after that is a medium speed trip down Portuguese coast, picking up/changing crew as we go. Got to be at Lagos or Cape S/V by about 18 Oct to do the hop across to Madeira area.

Hopefully, next blog will be from aboard in Baiona, before departure southwards.

1 Sep (Thursday) Departure from Gosport

Just after lunch on 1st Sep, skipper Mike and first mate Bill Lewis finally got RAPAREE underway for the first leg of her Atlantic circuit. Departure came after a mighty 6 month effort, with long hours of work, and much help from family and friends, and from Stewart and the team at Hornet. Raparee's refit included a refitted engine room, a new engine, propellor, and propshaft, much strengthening of rigging and chainplates, and a total overhaul of many of her systems. The non-stop sail to Brest was to be pretty much the first outing for her new or refitted systems (I had to hide my worries over this and show a brave face for the small group of wellwishers who kindly waved us off). Mid Solent we made a prearranged rendezvous with son Owen in a UKSA RIB to transfer a boat boom to him which I had picked for UKSA from Selden in Fareham the previous day. This also gave him a chance to wave us off. We then rode a healthy spring ebb Westerly well into the evening on the start of our long and relatively uneventful watchkeeping passage to Brest. The wind was frequently fickle and on the nose, and I have to confess we motor-sailed much of the distance as we zig zagged between rain and ships..

Tides are touchy on that NW corner of Brittany, so our arrival time was critical. After about 36 hrs, we just made it to the top of the Le Four channel in the early hours, with minutes to spare before the tide turned against us. WE crawled down the Four as far as we could until we could drop the pick in Blanc Sablonnes bay, just North of Gulet de Brest, at dawn. Jamesons AND rum, and a long zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz followed. We and the new engine had survived our first baptism.