10th & 11th June - Cabo da Gato and onwards

I was on deck just before 2 a.m. and Fenix was sailing along under full main and a single reef in the headsail. Malaga was clearly in view to the North. We were beating to windward in 15 knots of wind and the barometer was stable again at 1019 millibars, but our course was gradually taking us away from our destination or waypoint. This situation did not last long and the wind dropped off again whereby we were back under engine and full main by 5.15 a.m.

The outline of high mountains were visible prior to dawn this morning and by the afternoon they were graduallly replaced by more gentle slopes intensively farmed judging by the acres of polythene covering the land as we approached Punta de Sabrinal.

There were also reports and chatter aboard of fish striking our line this morning at about 9 a.m. However, just after noon and as we crossed the Banco el Seco de los Olivos, a seamount where the sea rises quite steeply from 500 meters to 72 meters another fish hit the line, causing a lot of line to run out. At this time of year the bonito and tuna are running into the Mediterranean and given our average speed of 8 knots, only the bigger and fast fish were going to be capable of taking our lure. We had a tactical change of fishing line in Gibraltar and were now using an immensely strong man made vectran fibre; there was a general reluctance to touch the rod and line for fear a finger might get snagged and lost! In any event we were slow throttling down and the fish made away with our valuable and "best" lure.


Despite persistent attempts to catch fish, which included having two lines out the back almost 24 hours a day and using an assortment of lines and lures, there was an ominous feeling developing aboard that we would not land a catch on the trip. So much so, the odd wager was being made and as the barren hours and miles passed the beliefs became stronger because not even the trusty wayward, and smelly, flying fish was to be found stranded on deck. I add the above image because at around this time I found a few small fry on the deck early in the morning and they indeed turned out to be the only species landed.



After passing the Golfo de Almeria and rounding Cabo da Gato the coastline changes dramatically. Most notably it is quite sparsely populated with little or no development for miles and from the shores the land rose again steeply to pointed hilltops with ranges of mountains behind them. This portion of the south eastern coast, despite its distant and difficult terrain, is quite distinctive for its system of hilltop forts or lookout towers located intermittently along the coast just within sight of each other. A closer inspection of the the charts on board confirmed this and the extent of the fort system as it extended northwards towards Barcelona.


Similar structures that would be familiar are the Napoleonic Martello towers along the coastlines of Ireland, England, and the Channel Islands. While taller and narrower in form the Spanish hilltop towers were probably used for a similar purpose. The Royal Naval vessels certainly targeted the Spanish coastline for a period during the early 19th century, but the necessity of these forts probably arose in reaction to a more persistent and long term threat; the Barbary Pirates raided this coastline sacking villages and enslaving the people from the 17th to the early 19th century
causing havoc, and these towers would have served well as an early warning system against such seaborn attacks.

Light winds and calm seas dominated Wednesday 11th June as our passage took us north eastwards towards Cabo de la Nao, passing Cartagena and the Murcian shore, and later past Alicante and the Costa Blanca. We rounded Cabo de la Nao under engine and full main in the evening around sunset knowing that by sunrise we would be somewhere due east of Valencia and closing in on the Catalan city of Barcelona.

9th June - Gibraltar

Gibraltar has been a British dominion since 1713 when it was ceded by Spain to England in the Treaty of Utrecht. Its important strategic, and desirable, position has led Gibraltar to having many masters down through history and was most notably controlled by the Moors for up to 750 years. Today Gibraltar remains a stronghold of sorts and is primarily an army and naval base. Its duty free status attracts many day trippers from the Spanish costas with reported cheap purchases. Unfortunately this latter highly visible trait dilutes the rich historical character of Gibraltar. Modern high rise housing developments dominate some areas of the Rock and traffic congestion is commonplace.

What seems to have suffered most is the history of the Rock, and while there is much evidence of the current military and naval use, very little of the underlying history and the neglected but proudly named bastions and ramparts, unfortunately lack significance and are lost among the high streets and modern featureless developments. It appears that Gibraltar, probably for the purpose of financial survival, has made a choice and only time will tell whether the Rock will be a better place in the future.

There are still places of interest to be found and the Trafalgar cemetery is noted as the last resting place for two victims of the engagement at Trafalgar. The tombstones pay testament to Gibraltar as a military and naval stronghold and many inscriptions record the battles in which the deceased were wounded, and the ships they served in.


Another location of interest are the botanic gardens where bronze cannon, statues of historical Gibraltarians, and exotic plant life are mixed with interesting results. I had an ulterior motive for visiting the gardens as my nose and face were quite raw from the sun, salt and wind from the day before. Among the many beautiful flowerbeds, shrubs and trees was a large quantity of aloe vera and pealing back the skin of a leaf reveals a gel like centre, which is a great restorative for weathered skin.




There was a larger queue for the cable car to the top of the Rock and we debated walking to the top. Unfortunately, time was not on our side because we needed to refuel and get some fresh provisions, so we contented ourselves with a walk around the town and the sight of many toy Barbary Macaque monkeys being sold to tourists on the high street.

Europe had been in the grip of a transport strike over the past few days and we were to find that fresh food was only beginning to arrive into Gibraltar. The large supermarket was obviously short of stock but the food market had just received its delivery and I purchased a wooden crate of fresh Spanish strawberries, peppers and some swordfish. With everything stowed we departed the marina and proceeded to the fuel berth which is beside the runway for Gibraltar airport. Again the transport strike had an effect here and fuel would not be available for another two days. With enough fuel to get to Barcelona we decided to set off again.

Departing Gibraltar you are required to pass Point Europa and its lighthouse reaching out into the Mediterranean. Modern development is spreading its way down to the point and spoiling some magnificent vantage points. The Macaque monkeys must gaze down at their fellow inhabitants and the occupied areas below them in mixture of amazement and amusement, but are unfortunately confined to and contented with stealing from tourists. Despite this, Gibraltar had one last and unexpected surprise for me, and as we passed Point Europa in glorious sunshine, clearly audible from a mosque set just in behind the lighthouse was the call to prayer. It echoed out along the narrow tip of land and over the water to Fenix as she passed by.


With a slight breeze we ate down below savouring the swordfish followed by the fresh Spanish strawberries with creme caramel as we motored away from the Rock on a course of 76 set for Cabo de Gata and Almeria. We were quickly chased and surrounded by dolphin and a stream of ships made their way down our starboard side and later during the night ships were visible inside our line making for the port of Malaga. The Spanish coast would remain a source of interest on our port side for the next few days as we made our way to Barcelona.

7th & 8th June - Towards Cabo St Vincente and Gibraltar

With the wind directly behind us the motion on board was a little awkward due to the rolling of Fenix in the following waves. The moon had slipped down over the western horizon before I came on deck and the dark night sky that remained was made bright by the presence of Venus. We were making good progress towards Cabo St. Vincente given the conditions and we rounded the Cape just after 9 a.m. in glorious sunshine. The wind moderated and seas flattened with a slight 5 knots of wind and we steered our new course of 113 for Cabo Trafalgar and the Straits of Gibraltar.


With calm waters and good afternoon heat I prepared an extensive grazing picnic lunch. The assortment of Guernsey smoked glazed ham, salami tartuffo, suffolk gold and blue, Camembert, goats cheese, sliced tomatoes and pears was served with a rustic bread purchased in Cascais and devoured with relish. Dinner followed a similar formula with the addition of cold baked snapper, potato salad with garlic mayonnaise, mange tout and asparagus, served with a Cote du Bourg 2005. The skippers walnut and coffee cake was served with clotted cream and set us up for the night watches ahead.

2 a.m. - 36 17.68' N 6 40.16'W - 1017 millibars - 7.1 knots boat speed - 3.5 knots wind speed.
Sometimes it is difficult to get a sense of what the conditions might be like before you come on deck and the conversation that takes place in the changing of the watch often gives you an understanding of how conditions might be developing. As I surveyed the horizon in the very dark night, it was quite evident that we were closing in on the Straits of Gibraltar and Cabo Trafalgar. The horizon to the north and north east was illuminated intermittently by the lumes of light and lighthouses from Cadiz and other cities along the Spanish coast. Meanwhile on our starboard side a dark indistinct horizon suggested the African and Moroccan shore. A lume of light from the city of Tangiers just off the starboard bow, a long way distant, was the only visible evidence of urban settlement.

The sea was very calm and almost motionless and the slightest of swells was beginning to take its shape on the surface of the sea. Under full main and under engine Fenix pushed made her way effortlessly through the oily water. Luminescent lines in the water revealed dolphins once again were close by. Every so often I could hear a fluttering sound in the water alongside the hull as the water was pushed away from the sides. The sound was more agitated than it should have been and it soon became clear that we were travelling through very large shoals of slumbering sardines. Upon awakening suddenly, and with surprise, they literally took flight and were jumping out of the water all around the hull to evade this new perceived predator.

By 5 a.m. dawn was approaching and the lights of Cabo Trafalgar and Cadiz were still visible blinking away against the bright red horizon with deep blue resplendent sky above it. Approaching Cabo Trafalgar we crossed the Banco de Trafalgar where the sea shallows from about 120 meters to a low as 6 meters in places. Just over two hundred years ago the Royal Navy engaged the combined French and Spanish fleet here. While the battle was won by the English fleet, a new threat quickly emerged as the conditions changed and a severe south westerly gale made escape from this shore very difficult for many of the vessels. Nelson's rumoured request and order was to anchor the fleet after the engagement however this did not happen and the Spanish shore was littered with wrecks and bodies for days to come.

As the sun crested the horizon at about 6 a.m. we were abeam of Cabo Trafalgar. With the advent of the dawn the breeze gradually began to build, but more ominously the barometer began to fall and it recorded 1015 millibars as I completed by log entry.


Soon after my watch ended the jib was unfurled and we were sailing again as the wind picked up to 17 knots. This idyllic sailing was short lived and the sail plan was reefed down as we began to sail to windward in winds of as much as 40 knots. Unlike many yachts Fenix was in her stride and we tacked our way upwind, our course limited and confined by the Spanish shore to the north and the busy shipping lane to the south. With the proximity of Gibraltar and Tarifa to the African shore, only separated by approximately 7 nautical miles, the build in the wind was probably accentuated by the narrowness of the straits.


The straits of Gibraltar almost defy description. A great number of ships constantly make their way entering or departing the Mediterranean, while other ships traverse the straits between the ports of Tarifa (pictured below), Algeciras and Tangiers linking continental Europe with Africa. Among this traffic on this day were leisure sailing and motor craft, some recommencing their passage west, making their way out of the Mediterranean Sea into the Atlantic Ocean with favourable winds. There were not many arrivals given the conditions. Sailing upwind, Gibraltar was now made effectively further away and more difficult to get to, with the result that everybody was on deck for the next 40 nautical miles for the frequent tacking as we proceeded through the straits.


We eventually reached Punta Camero, and passing outside Bajo La Perla and other rocks the full size of the Rock of Gibraltar came into view shrouded by cloud as it was forced to rise steeply above its sheer 430 meter high peak. As we exited the straits the wind also moderated to about 20 knots and finally by the time Fenix was docked at 1700 hours the sea was calm once again - 36 8.13' N 5 31.24' W.


After a glass or two of wine, a joint of pork was put in the oven and we were enjoying a full Sunday roast dinner by 2100 hours despite the fact that we had all not slept properly for more than a day.

6th June - Cascais and Lisbon

I had not been to mainland Portugal before and was keen to wander around Cascais, and possibly visit Lisbon, which was approximately 12 kilometers further up the Tagus and easily accessed by train. Cascais in some respects is not unlike what Arcachon is to Bordeaux, with exotic and fanciful villa retreats occupying vantage points around the bay. Above the marina where we docked is an old citadel which is somewhat dilapidated but its strong walls still impress. Distinctive turrets guard the corners in a manner repeated throughout the area including more modern structures. The town itself is quaint paved with small white cobblestones. Some streets are patterned with a mix of white and black cobblestones. Most of the old town houses and villas are decorated with ceramic tiles, many with typical blue glaze panels displaying religious scenes or devotion to a particular saint. The walls of the town hall had a series of ceramic panels depicting a number of large scale figures in polychrome.




Clean sandy beaches and a promenade link Cascais to its neighbour Estoril, but the tourism and day trippers have not fully eroded the town of its character, and the fishermen still land their catch in a corner of the bay without ceremony.

The fish market was not open early, but I was reliably informed that the main auction would commence at 5 p.m. A local fisherman encouraged me to attend and take a look. Later that afternoon a small crowd of women, who appeared to be the only buyers, gathered in the benches above the conveyor where the fish would pass and be viewed. At this point no fish was for sale however there was quite a bit of heckling, whaling and general commotion directed at the manager of the market. Normally you can get a feel for the reason behind the disquiet but this time it was difficult to decipher. Instead of asking what was going on I preferred to imagine that this poor unfortunate man had wronged one of the local women. You never know I might be right!


The catch in the market that day was not plentiful; only a few boxes of sardines, some skate and octopus were for sale. Fishermen made the best of a poor catch by arranging and dividing the fish into small batches for sale.

The morning and afternoon were spent in Lisbon. We decided to reprovision with among other things fresh fish primarily motivated by the lack of a catch on board, but given where we were it would be a travesty not to buy some fresh fish. We decided to visit the market at Campo de Ourique, set in a small suburb of the city, and get a view of the city at the same time. This covered market is smaller than the vast light filled halls of the Ribeiro market but less frequented by tourists. On entering the market you arrive at the fish stalls set onto an incline to carry away the water from the melted ice. Pespada, grouper, sardines and snapper were the main varieties of fish for sale. Fresh octopus, and various sizes of squid were also laid out on the ice covered stalls among numerous other varieties of fish made up the rich icy displays.

The rest of the market was made up of similar small stalls selling dairy produce and a mixture of stalls selling fruit, vegetables and pulses. Towards the back of the market there were a number of stalls selling flowers and plants. Some of the sellers encouraged us to buy a particular small leaf basil plant/bush. It left a strong scent of basil on my hand after brushing the leaves and could have been useful for the odd salad.

The seller explained that it was dedicated to Saint Anthony and went on to assure us that the plant would boost your love life or spark a new romance. At the time I was not sure if the old lady could be trusted or even if she owned the plants, but we purchased one anyway. As we wandered our way around for the rest of the day we attracted knowing smiles and nods from the local ladies, and quite sincerely I can only put this down to the effect of the little basil plant and the oddities of the Portuguese religious beliefs.

A decision had to be made and so we picked out a big snapper, which was scaled cleaned, gutted and beheaded with ritual skill.


Small shops, bars and restaurants occupied the units that made up the walls of the market having direct access to the market itself; some were specialist butchers selling tripe. We passed a small unit that was a restaurant and seated approximately 8 people with a little room to spare. A lady, who I can only describe as a local character, ran the place which had a retro tulip print gauze curtain covering the windows. While presenting the menus she inquired if we knew what we wanted and we replied "sardines". This was the right answer to her question, and the coincidentally the only dish she was prepared to cook at his point in the day. She smiled knowingly (observing the basil plant), and gradually set the table piece by piece while attending to the other three tables, cooking the food, running the till and chatting to the market workers who would drop in for coffee. Incidentally, she made the coffee too.

A time and motion study would reveal some level of madness behind the sequence of events in this restaurant but like all these places everything went like clockwork and we were served with bread and cheese, followed later by "special" bread and a broad smile. We were asked if we should like some wine and we decided to defer to the chef's preference and recommendation, which earned another smile. As it happened the wine was stored in narrow 3 foot high wooden barrels, the contents of which were decanted into water bottles and stored in the fridge. Now in her stride and assured with the fact that we would be satisfied with anything that graced our table she produced a half litre carafe along with a brief assurance that it was of the best quality.

A dozen sardines grilled to perfection arrived in good time; skin charred and the succulent firm flesh released easily from the bone. Some time later, the plates cleared and without a prompt, "arroz dulce" with ground nutmeg was served for desert with a little more wine. Coffees and the bill eventually brought matters to a close and we waved goodbye as we squeezed out the door. A priceless experience. God forbid, if we had not purchased the holy plant and immediately struck it off with the eccentric, humorous and very pleasant proprietress.

We wandered back to the railway station through the streets of Lisbon and had a quick look at the Ribiero market before getting on the train for Cascais. Following refueling motored into the bay passing a four masted sail training ship as we went. After hoisting the mainsail and unfurling the genoa we set off on a bearing of 169 passing Cabo Especial by 10 p.m. just after sunset. The snapper was left to marinade in olive oil, lemon juice, salt and pepper and thereafter baked in the over. This was devoured with Guernsey royal potatoes, mange tout and asparagus. A great end to a great day.

5th June - Cacais beckons

I was greeted on my 2 a.m. watch with another moonless night and as a result it was a very, very dark one because of the dense cloud cover. Numerous pods of dolphins were visible in the dark water throughout the night. Arriving in groups of 4 or 5 alongside the boat, their bright trails of phosphorescence kinked, twisted and pulsed as they propelled themselves through the water jostling with each other and the motion of the boat as they raced to get to the bow of the boat.

With 148 nautical miles to run to Cascais, the breeze was quite fickle as it built and died away. As the wind built we tried a number of sail combinations until we were reaching making 9 knots boat speed in 10 knots of wind with the asymmetric spinnaker up. The atmospheric pressure had been consistently high and stable for the last few days rising from 1016 on the 1st June to 1025 and only reducing to 1023 by midday today. A clearance on the northern horizon made its way south bringing with it consistent sunshine as the cloud cover dissipated and the breeze gradually rose in strength during the day.

By now the water has become a lustrous deep shimmering blue and very characteristic of the deep water we are sailing in. Steering a course of 185 between the 1000m and 2000m contours, just before midday we began sighting pods of whales (possibly Brydes Whales with a prominent but small dorsal fin visible) crossing our track at 42 45" N 9 35" S. We continued to see pods throughout the day with our most southerly sighting at 41 46.6'N 9 31.1' S.

Coming across dolphins is of course a great experience but having whales at close quarters gets the adrenaline running. The first pods contained whales in the region of 10 to 12 meters long. The final sighting contained three whales up to 20 meters in length. Their sizable long dark evoke a entirely different reaction as a result and as they break the water in front of the boat, rolling, turning and diving slowly, leaving oily calm voids in the otherwise choppy sea as the descended. The final pod ambled slowly in a north easterly direction away from us and we managed to get a glimpse of them three times as they casually surfaced on their way.

As the day goes on we inevitably converge with the Portuguese coast. The islands of the Forcadas and Isla da Berlonga appear on the port bow and as the sea shelves upwards from 1000m to as shallow as 70m off the islands we hope some fish will be caught and our barren patch will be at an end. Unfortunately our speed and quick progress to Cascais denies us a catch. We reach Cabo, Carvoeiro which quickly gives way to Cabo Raso and our fast approach to Cascais set into the north shore of the mighty Tagus river.

Closing with the land brings anticipation and a number of new sensations, the most impressive of which is smell. The land cultivated or not always carries a scent, sometimes rich with rosemary, thyme or even livestock, and on other occasions probably not so pleasant! On this occasion the scent was welcoming. We eventually docked around 9 p.m. and after a refreshing shower we ventured up to the town to acquaint ourselves with our new found surroundings.

Cabo Fisterra - 4th June

Cape Finisterre, known locally as Cabo Fisterra, is an amazing place; one of the great convergence points where continents and oceans meet. More than just a passing point ships carefully line up planning their approaches to and departures from the major ports of Europe. We sail inside the shipping lanes and at night you get a good indication of the quantity of the shipping traffic. While not congested, the line of ships can be described as busy with an assortment of vessels; massive modern utilitarian container ships displaying the regulation lighting pass in line with elegant old liners displaying all their lights delineating the multiple decks of accommodation and pleasure. Where will their next port be? What are they doing right now? It is a slower world that allows you contemplate your neighbours for a brief period of time.

My watch began at 2 a.m. and emerging from the companionway I was greeted by a cloudless and moonless night sky, revealing all the stars and planets above. Venus alone provided enough light to move around the deck safely. The faint haze of the Milky Way, normally shielded from view by modern light pollution was clearly visible acting as a dramatic backdrop to the closer and recognisable constellations. It was easy to be lost in the magnitude of this sight.

Gradually the Spanish coast, or Galician coast depending on where you are from, became more evident and the lume of the lighthouses off El Ferriol, and La Coruna eroded the darkness of the night sky. A little later, the lights of Isla Sisarga Grande, El Roncun do Placer de Pay Gardo, Placer de Cabeo de Lage and Cabo Vilano revealed more detail of the Galician coast and continued to light the shore until dawn. As the sun rose we could clearly see the mountains, and Cape Finisterre itself. By 10 a.m. we were abeam of the light at Cape Finisterre with its lonely light poised high on a mount; passing it we bore way 30 degrees steering a course of 185.

Galician fishermen were trawling a short distance inside our course on this bright morning. While our fishing line did not yield a catch, a majestic solitary swordfish breached the water between us and the fishing boats; caught in a flash of silver and white light it rolled onto its side re entering its watery world and bringing the sea to life for me. Our southerly course meant there were changes in the bird life also; the gannets were now replaced by shearwaters gliding about along the troughs of the waves, searching and hunting for their quarry at water level.

Dolphins were quick to fill empty moments, and visited the boat frequently throughout the day. At this point I could expand on a treatise of the difficulties in photographing dolphins from a moving vessel. The number of dolphins present does not make the task any easier as they leap out of your viewfinder as quickly as they arrived. Spilt second hesitations for the perfect shot have resulted in the deletion of many framed shots of blue sea and miscellaneous non-descript fin. I believe you should be made feel the disappointment for yourself. It is an exercise in patience.

Our on-board navigational software (while very useful my preference remains for good detailed charts) predicts we will not make Gibraltar on current fuel usage. The fuel not only drives the engine, and in turn the boat, it also powers the generator providing power to all the systems on board such as computers, radios, lighting, refridgeration and battery chargers. With fuel becoming an issue we begin to discuss the various options of ports we can run into. Fortunately, there is a wealth of deep water ports on this coastline and we can afford to chose a port we can arrive at in daylight. The attractive bay of Bayonne, is 55 nautical miles distant along our path, but we would arrive in darkness. It is not the easiest place to arrive at night because the dark mass of an island shields the town and port lights from view. I arrived at this port on a dark November night in 1995 closely followed by the arrival of hurricane Florence!

Cascais is 230 nautical miles away and appears to be a likely option, with a modern deep marina and accessible fuel dock. Hence we set out sights on a Portuguese stop.

Bay of Biscay

Having sailed through Biscay a number of times, it came as a surprise to be experiencing light winds. Most of my previous passages were in November and the weather situation was quite different. This time there was a high pressure system dominating North Western Europe giving very fine weather to Ireland and England. Further south in the Bay of Biscay we were experiencing moderate winds averaging 11 knots. In the morning and late afternoon the wind would increase a little and allow sailing under main and genoa or an asymmetric spinnaker. It was becoming clear that it could be quite a light trip and dependent on the engine to keep us going.

The benefit of the high pressure was that we would have nice reaching conditions for most of the way, but if the high pressure system became unstable or its influence declined we could become prey to other less pleasant winds in the latter part of the passage. You have got to take the rough with the smooth. Everybody likes to sail on a passage; the relative silence, the heel and motion of the boat is almost comforting. This time I was quite happy to get through Biscay without drama.

The photograph above was taken at about 10:30 a.m. on the 3rd June, and clearly demonstrates the benefit of sailing in a southerly direction. We had left the rain and thick cloud cover behind and were venturing into warmer waters. Deep sea adventurers such as gannets were still searching and chasing shoals of fish, as were small groups of dolphins, who would take time out and jostle each other for position under the bow of the boat.


Dinner today was a mixture of fried or stewed aubergine, courgette, red peppers, tomatoes, onions and garlic. Once cooked, I liberally drizzled (a technical word I believe) the fried vegetables in the pan with more olive oil, and the juice of a lemon leaving the pan to cool for a few hours. Dinner being served at 8, the prep was consequently quick as the mixed fried vegetables were served with fresh pasta and parmesan cheese.

A dessert made its way onto the menu on this occasion. Two of the pain au raisin purchased in the Victor Hugo patisserie in St Peter Port, had gone unnoticed. Having chopped them up, I added them to an egg custard mix of 1 pint of milk, 4 eggs beaten, vanilla extract, and two tablespoons of sugar. For extra flavour I made a dark caramel and poured it into the base of the baking dish. Once the caramel had solidified, the pain au raisin custard mix was poured in on top of the caramel. A deep baking tray was used as a bain marie and after an impatient hour in the tricky, and tempermental, gas oven the wonderful golden and crust topped custard emerged.

Even in a standard kitchen I would hesitate and be quite cautious of handling containers of boiling water, and in particular a bain marie; the edges of which are often hotter than the liquid it contains. Thankfully, and luckily, this was not an adventure too far and I did not burn myself, but with the boat heeling and movement of the boat a constant factor, danger and disaster are never far away. Burns are not something one does not want to experience at sea because healing and treatment are a very complicated and lenghty process.

The baked custard was a success and the rationed portions did not last long in the bowls preparing us for the watches through the night ahead and the expectation of reaching the Spanish coast the next morning.

Ouessant and into Biscay

Above is a photograph of the boat docked on the inside berth in St. Peter Port Guernsey to give you an idea of the craft that would be carrying myself and the other three crew south.

While refueling the dock master mentioned in passing conversation that he was about to return home to spread some weedkiller on his lawn. I asked him if he thought it would rain and he gave me a knowing look. By 4 a.m. the next morning it was dark and overcast and dawn was an hour away. The rain had already begun on the previous watch and through the damp and murk we could make out the the lighthouse of Ile de Batz blinking away on the north West Brittany coast. Eventually, the growing light from the approaching dawn revealed, through the greyness, more of the low French coastline stretching out along our port side.

By mid morning we had reached the Ouessant and the Point de Creach leaving it a respectable distance to port. This coast is somewhat notorious and the proliferation of lighthouses do it justice. As we stretched away from the coast into the Bay of Biscay the other lights in the Mer d'Iroise became visible on the Ile de Molene and Ile Beniguet. The tides, very strong in this area, swept us noticeably from west to east and the water boiled and turned on itself racing towards the Passage de Fromveur. The day showed some promise at that point and indeed it did brighten up as we left the coastline behind.

Because we were operating a watch system of four hours off and four hours on, it was decided to have lunches at 2 p.m. and evening meals at 8 p.m. It was thought that this would not interfere greatly with rest times and more importantly food would be served inside the routine of the watches and not sporadically at various times through the day. On one passage I did, the designate cook insisted on cooking the main meal on his watch and not at at set time. Because it was a rolling watch system we were eating our main meal at midnight after 8 or 9 days. It was mad but given the individual involved it was often hilarious.

Lunch was to be a toasted ham, cheese and tomato sandwich. With no toaster I opted to toast the bread on the frying pan and this worked well (once I got the temperature of the pan right). All the ingredients were from the farmers market including the mixture of baked ham and smoked ham joints which were stunning. With good raw materials what could possibly go wrong?

Cooking for dinner was slightly more difficult because you are operating at a gas oven, which although gimbled, you were still being flung around a bit and playing the juggler with boiling water and fire at 30 degrees of heel is not often easy. Suffice to say, with fresh food, preparation is the name of the game and advance cooking is the way forward. After finishing my watch in the morning I would often cook one or two segments of the evening meal and do another if required while preparing lunch.

There is always a debate on whether to use prepared or dried foodstuffs as opposed to fresh. If you are racing obviously weight is a factor and cooking for large numbers on a boat like this must be made as simple as possible. However, cooking for four for up to three weeks, I believe a variety of good fresh food is essential.

Dinner on this day was chicken curry which went down really well, and stayed down! most of this was cooked the previous day so it was just a matter of reheating the curry and boiling the brown basmati rice to go with it. The only pain in this procedure is the draining of the rice from a large pot into a small sink.

By 10 p.m. we can no longer see the French shore and our next waypoint is off Cape Finistere, over a day and a half away.

St. Peter Port - Provisioning

The big task of getting the food on board took place on Saturday 31st May. I decided to check out the local farmers market at Saumarez house and was not disappointed. While the market (like the island) was a little small a good assortment of locally grown vegetables was for sale at a number of stalls. Other stalls sold cheese from Guernsey cows, handmade chocolates and locally caught crabs and shellfish. The spider crabs and shore crabs (known as shankers on island) were a great sight stalls.


Most of the fresh produce was purchased here including peppers, tomatoes, courgettes, asparagus, potatoes, carrots, peas and beans. Freshly baked bread was obtained from Spenner's bakery not too far from Saumarez House. The cheese, was made made from Guernsey cow's milk had a very rich colour, like the butter, and tasted great. The blue cheese was quite soft in texture and mild with only a small amount of veining in the round.


Other supplies were picked up at the supermarket where the trolley could just about support approximately 100 litres of water and other goodies. The one significant benefit to provisioning in Guernsey is the wide choice of high quality dairy products; dairy produce from nearby France combined with the high quality local produce are much in evidence. Primarily the most impressive choice was to be found in the butter section on the refrigerated shelves. Up to 10 varieties of butter from Guernsey, Sark and France could be purchased.


An interesting feature to island life is the hedge market which is based on a an honesty system. Essentially, anything for sale is left at the garden wall or hedge and you can take the flowers, vegetables or book, whatever the case maybe, and leave the money in a bucket or post box.

The fridges, freezer and cupboards all full to the brim, and water stowed by the late afternoon we set off for dinner at L'Escalier retiring back to the boat before midnight. There was early start the next morning because we had to leave the inner marina at high tide just before 5 a.m., and take up a dock in the main harbour. The day was sunny and warm, and following a safety briefing, and refueling in the afternoon we set off in calm conditions down the west side of the island and along the Grand Banque. We passed many leisure craft anchored or drifting on the tide fishing in the evening sun. Gradually the island fell below the horizon behind us and the only reminder was the occasional pot every half mile or so until just before sunset. The was no moon evident and the night was pitch black. With a little breeze, and some sailing, we made our way to Oeussant and predicted landfall there around sunrise.

Voyage to the South of France

Over the last few weeks I have been away sailing, and hope, in the coming days, to relate a number of experiences, sights, tastes, and thoughts on places visited. The story begins tomorrow at our port of departure, St Peter Port on the island of Guernsey; a gem among the Channel islands.

Provisioning the boat for the trip began prior to our departure on the 1st of June at the local farmer's market set among the wonderful and pretty gardens of Saumarez House. Hence the photograph!!

I intend to write a number of installments over the coming weeks and hope people will log on and read the pieces as I relive the my travels visiting a number of ports en route to the South of France.