DECEMBER______________________________________________________2005

Thursday, December 1st

<Araksi> This morning we had the big shopping for our food storage; in the afternoon we went to the computer specialist and ordered the computer.

Friday, December 2nd

<Araksi> We were in the internet café. I called my mother and Ruud's mother to comfort them. The storm Delta hitting the Canaries was in the news all over Europe. I also called the marina in San Sebastian de Gomera, our plans are to go directly there instead of via Tenerife. Many pontoons have been detached from the main wall during the storm in the harbor of Santa Cruz de Tenerife. So we had planed to rather be in La Gomera instead of possibly being trapped in the damaged port of Tenerife while Epsilon as another threat is pending upon us. But alas, Gomera had no room for a catamaran. We have a new computer, had lunch at a nice cafe and decided to come into the marina before leaving the Canaries

<Ruud> A new toy aboard! The owner of the computer shop spoke a very good English - pretty seldom in Spain - and we got very professional advice. Moreover, he was the wholesaler for many big stores in the Canaries; the reason he could give such good price. On top of that, he changed the operating system from Spanish into English for us, a thing no-one else in Spain was prepared or able to do. So off we went with a modern device including camera and wireless.

Saturday, December 3rd

<Araksi> Shopping in the morning. Ruud dived for many hours in the quiet waters of the marina cleaning the two hulls of Garabes. Thanks our diving equipment, our water lungs, he could work there for a long time eliminating that nasty handicap of humans under water.

Sunday, December 4th

<Araksi> Ruud continued cleaning the hull and the dinghy, especially the rest of the oil layer on it that had been spilled on in the anchorage.

Monday, December 5th

<Araksi> A couple of other boats left today. They all had to motor. The weather charts show less winds and a only halfway established trade wind pattern. We want to wait for another couple of days and then decide.

Tuesday, December 6th

<Araksi> It is a national holiday today in Spain (Constitution Day).

After breakfast we started cleaning and controlling our anchor chain. For we were far too long at the anchorage where each day we could see the slime and the weed growing on our bridle and our chain. Additionally, two sailors had told us about their stainless steel chain having cracks caused by electrolysis in this particular anchorage. So we had to take a closer look at ours. Thankfully it looked good except some rusty spots, but this is normal for a two years old galvanized chain, I suppose. The work took us all day long; we first let out the whole 100 meter of chain, then I positioned myself in the dinghy in front of the chain scrubbing it, while Ruud was on the trampoline pulling it in, meter for meter, each time I asked him to do so. We of course had some short brakes: the nice lunch, the coffee break, or the short chat with our Spanish neighbor, who had a lot to tell about his Caribbean, South America (Magellan Strait, our dream), and his Polynesian adventures.

Wednesday, December 7th

<Araksi> After breakfast we headed into town, into the internet center. We of course checked the weather charts and the trajectory of Epsilon. It is really making some erratic movements; five days ago it was heading with 10 mph towards NE, and since yesterday it seems to do just the contrary, namely heading SW with 9 mph. If it continues doing that, it may catch up with some boats, which left the Canaries some days ago. We hope not!!!

Thursday, December 8th

<Ruud> The last work on board before departure: Araksi baked two breads and cooked countless meals (all deliciously looking and smelling) which disappeared into the refrigerators I had cleaned minutes before. We are going to win the medal of the boat crossing with the best food aboard, that is for sure! The water hose transported tons of sand that had been collecting on Garabes into the sea, the engines were checked, water refilled.

In the evening we went to town, lingered around enjoyed the mild winter night and the cheerful christmas decorations. As we usually do when in the city, we ended up at the Chinese restaurant.

Back on Garabes we wanted to watch a DVD, but exhausted as we were we just fell into our beds. By the way, the leakage on our starboard cabin is repaired and the ceiling planks reinstalled, so we slept in our cabin again after having used the guest cabin for such a long time.

Friday, December 9th

<Araksi> We are finally ready! We did our very last shopping, washing, writing of e-mails and letters and the updating of our homepage. We were done by noon and could actually leave, but wanted to have a restful evening and leave tomorrow morning. We both are excited and happy to leave. I can hear the steady winds of the Caribbean calling our names.

Saturday, December 10th

<Ruud> We are on our way! The evening before we had fueled up and I had arranged with Pedro, the owner of the tank station, to stay at the fuel dock for the night.

This spared us the maneuvering out of the berth, messing around with many mooring lines etc. So we could leave the marina in no time, by 7.50 (exactly sunrise) when we swiftly moved out from Las Palmas, the city that had been our home for so many weeks. It was good to be in the open again. Our fishing lures were out quickly as I had promised a big fish to Araksi, and an hour later we caught a beautiful Mahi Mahi near the coast. At that time the wind set in and we were able to set sails and move southwards at a fast speed. The sea was somewhat choppy but that couldn't spoil the fun.

I had calculated our journey to be some 2'750 nautical miles (just over 5'000 Kilometers), leading first in a southwesterly direction nearby the Cape Verde islands and then - having reached the zone where the trade winds blow - to the west with destination Martinique. At a moderate pace the crossing would take us 3 weeks. But that is theory, and sailing is written in that different book called surprise.

Sunday, December 11th

<Ruud> Our first day's run is done: 136.39 M or a modest speed of 5.6 knots in average. Choppy seas are limiting our speed somewhat, but it is still ok. That would mean a crossing of 19 days and the ETA (estimated time of arrival) being Sylvester. We managed to sail most of the time but the waves came from various directions and the weather didn't look promising. In the evening we took in some weather charts by our SSB radio, confirming our suspicion that various fronts were disturbing the normal patterns of the years. Our course is south now - not southwest as we had hoped.

From the beginning on we didn't encounter many ships, quite a difference from the Mediterranean where it was difficult to be on our own. Good for watch keeping thus, one can afford not to be on constant alert. Saying that, in the night a vessel came towards us at high speed, creating one of these moments of nervousness: are they fishermen playing with us (we had some bad experience in the Med with them) or are they the rare pirates that cruise nearby the African coast (we hear stories about yachts being attacked, not by Arabs but Orientals). A mile away, the dark vessel stopped and apparently observed us. I could now see it through our binoculars and I guess we had the visit of a Spanish marine vessel checking us out. That is fine for us, but next time do not scare us that much, please. Half an hour later, the vessel changed course and rushed away over the horizon.

Monday, December 12th

<Ruud> We logged 128.71 M or an average of 5.3 kts for the second day, still not the speed we were hoping for. Our total mileage is now 265.1. Dark clouds are filling the sky and we reef in anticipation. Rain sets in, but the expected winds fail to come. On the contrary: they die down completely and around 15:00 we have to start one of the engines. We have heard about these calms that seem to be normal in these regions; all the other yachts we are listening to on our SSB radio are motoring too; not only the ones who are on their way to the south, but also those who are already in the trade wind zone. They are all hoping finally to enjoy those trade winds that are supposed to push them gently towards the Caribbean. The weather pattern still doesn't look promising and we start thinking about making a stop in the Cape Verdes in order to wait for more favorable winds. But that is a decision we only have to take in a few days.

Tuesday, December 13th

<Ruud> 120.8 M for the day (total now 385.9 M) or an average of 5 kts (5.4 kts for the total journey). We are still motoring. The seas have almost become flat and it is hot. At least that's the way to get a good night sleep. Araksi does the only sensible thing: she takes a good book, and positions herself comfortable on the forward deck to be hugged by a benign sun. Meanwhile I catch another Mahi Mahi and think about family and friends that are suffering from the cold (well, not too long though...)

Wednesday, December 14th

<Ruud> In the night we hoisted the sails three times, that is whenever it looked as if the winds were finally coming back again. Three times wasted: no more than half an hour later, all became flat again. That means motoring once more. At least we are lucky, other boats do get no wind but a lot of swell. Even experienced sailors start sounding tired over the SSB radio. Motoring means also lots of hot water and electricity though, so we are taking abundant showers while the watermaker is quickly filling up the tanks again.

We have now completed 510.8 M, making it the slowest daily run until now (114.9 M), not a promising sign for our ETA. It is a complete change from yesterday: dark clouds are hanging over us and it drizzles almost constantly. Boats at closer latitudes are reporting some wind so we hope that this is coming to us soon. Meanwhile I was able to put up the genoa to get a half knot in extra speed. The daily fish was also caught in the morning hours, guess what... a Mahi Mahi.

Thursday, December 15th

<Araksi> It is 07:22 and I am on watch-keeping. The day is dawning, but there is no sun in sight, dark clouds are hanging low in the sky. The moon and the stars at night had promised bright and sunny skies. However the day is long and as "the only constant is change" we will certainly get some sunny spots during the day. To be honest that doesn't matter that much as long as the temperature is as pleasant as it is: always around 26°C.

Still no winds, we had already motored all night long. We try to take advantage of any breeze that comes up by setting up the main or letting out the genoa, to contribute to the engine propulsion. So I rolled out the genoa by day break to let it fill with the morning whisper of the air; it helps with half a knot (current speed 4.8 kts) which again shortens the trip with six to seven hours. The weather charts for today show some winds of 15 kts from the east. Having a quite smooth sea, that could increase our speed by two knots. We are now at 020° 28,7'N; 022° 22,6'W and continuing to motor S/SW towards the Cape Verde islands. At night we made our final decision to make a stop there, where one can sense the pulse of the trade winds, for the isles lie exactly in the path of these perpetual steady blows. So our next stop will be within 261 miles or some 50 hours.

<Ruud> Our average is going down again due to the lack of wind: 622 M are behind us and just a modest 2'338 M to go, a log of 111.6 M for the day. I didn't want to push the engine as our battery charger shows a strange input of amps, so I first want to check what is hiding behind this. What worries me a big is that the batteries are hot too. In the morning some wind is finally coming. Just right in time, one realizes only what noise a marine motor does make when it is turned off. The weather is getting a bit friendlier: the sun is competing with the clouds. Who is going to rule the day? The chances for Mr. Helios are not looking too bad. Around midday a majestic heron circles around our yacht for half an hour, only to disappear to the far African shores. A little later we had a big school of dolphins playing with us.

The sea state is flat, and thus we can still manage to get some 7 kts out of Garabes in only 8-10 knots of wind at 60° on her bow. In the late evening Garabes is really showing that she is a thoroughbred: in winds of 10-12 kts she is advancing with 7-8.5 knots. Is this how the trade winds are going to be?

Friday, December 16th

<Ruud> 126.51 Miles for the day's run, which means 5.2 kts in average; the late winds have helped us to push up the figures a bit.

<Araksi> No winds at all. From the cruisers net we hear the same story of motoring all around, even by those boats who are in the trade winds zone. We are looking forward to drop anchor in Mindelo, and so finally get read of the constant sound of the engine. Our plan is to wait there for a real established trade wind pattern. We both were all day long busy getting ready for checking in into the independent island republic of the Cape Verdes: Ruud was busy preparing a very professional and serious looking crew-list and a list describing the boat features, while I produced a Cape Verdian flag to hoist it up on the courtesy pole while entering the country.

Saturday, December 17th

<Araksi> Not that it is unusual to motor in this latitudes, on the contrary they are known as the most windless part of the crossing. Nevertheless it gets on your nerves and it does even more when we observe on the charts and hear from other sailors that we most probably have to motor almost the entire rest of the trip if we get going, for the trade winds are not constant yet. Weren't there the Cape Verdes nicely situated on our way to Martinique! So we are now in the big bay of Mindelo enjoying the rest of the day, where we dropped anchor around 11:30 UTC. We had already sighted the lights on the island miles a head during the night, and in the morning we could enjoy the high peaks (over 2'000 meters) of Sao Antao, that lies just across the channel opposite Mindelo. The small islet of Ilheu dos Passaros stands solitarily there at the entrance of the big bay of Mindelo, as if it were leading the weary sailor into protected waters.

At our arrival we were approached by the boat boys, who try to offer their services such as keeping an eye on your dinghy while you are at shore. Surprisingly, they were not that much intrusive (we had heard some negative stories about them). Our first impression of the surrounding was positive, the weather warm and sunny. Maybe we will even like the place.

Mindelo is the second largest city in the archipelago with some 50'000 inhabitants, and it is situated on the island of Sao Vicente.

For Garabes the arrival in Mindelo meant new records set: the most southern and western place we ever have been (16° 53.01 N 24°59.74 W) and the longest trip made until now: 884 M (1'635 km).

Sunday, December 18th

<Araksi> Today was a real Sunday. No work, no hassle, but just resting and enjoying life! It is amazing to experience how energy consuming long trips are. You first feel its impact on your body when you are at rest. Even though the trip was not a difficult one, the constant under conscious tenseness seems to wear you out. So today we were just letting the surrounding and its atmosphere act on us.

In the afternoon we gave a short visit to the American boat "Peace and Aloha", which is here in the anchorage with Ellen and her family on board, who coordinates a daily Atlantic Crosser's Cruising Net. She transmits weather information and follows up the boats who have signed in the net. It is a very helpful and comforting companion for cruisers throughout their passage.

Monday, December 19th

<Araksi> This morning, on the net we heard from most of the boats under way that they had encountered heavy squalls with 30 to 40 kts of winds and lots of rain. According to the forecasts and Herb's net (an amateur Ham radio person who advices sailors for many years about the weather during their passage) this squally weather is coming towards the islands and will arrive here in two days time. We decide to let it pass over us and then leave. Today we signed in the Atlantic Cruiser's Crossing Net. I will be the communication person on Garabes, who checks in to the net every morning, mainly reporting the position, weather, state of crew and boat.

<Ruud> I went ashore to do the overdue check-in (you never know if the authorities will not cause you difficulties when you don't). The town of Mindelo looked pretty from afar, but is far from pretty once in there. I looked for a jetty to land with our dinghy (the new guide we had bought showed a nice picture of it) but that appeared to be rotten away a few years ago. So the boat boys helped me ashore and immediately the hassle about money started. Their trick is not to ask for money but to tell you that you can pay later, and than - a few days later - to ask for a big amount while summing up all the "services" they have rendered (and you hadn't ask for). So I had a tough stand insisting that I only wanted the dinghy to be looked after and to convince them that two euros were more then enough for that job. Oh well, a prelude of what we will experience in the Caribbean.

Carib style alike was the paperwork I had to work through at the port captain's office: three long lists with all kind of superfluous questions aimed at the captain of a super tanker, not a small sailing yacht. Then the long walk to the immigration office at the other side of the harbor, where I got our passport stamped with an entry and an exit visa at the same time. Well, that saves some walking when we are ready to leave.

On the beach a dead dog was laying, surrounded by thousands of flies, and nobody seems to care. The streets are dirty and the people apathetic, not unfriendly but just not caring. The vegetables in the market and the food (mainly fish) exposed by the vendors on the streets had also seen better times. But then it was a unfriendly day with dark clouds and lots of gusts, and Africa needs sun to look good.

Tuesday, December 20th

<Ruud> The expected bad front is approaching rapidly. We were advised not to leave the harbor by other yachtsmen already underway, and so we did. The high islands of the Cape Verdes are funneling the winds and we had a choppy night; luckily our anchor held good in a mixture of sand and oily mud that had been accumulated over the years in this well protected bay which is also the republic's one of the few harbors of any importance.

Wednesday, December 21st

<Ruud> The sun is back and with it apparently will come steady wind to carry us westward. As Araksi didn't visit Mindelo yet, we went into town to do some last minute shopping and to climb the mountain overlooking the old center. I picked up the ships documents from the harbor office and we went to the various markets to check out what to buy. Vegetables didn't look that good and were expensive so we end up with a few eggs and tomatoes only, but we found a friendly café and so we enjoyed our stay ashore.

In the afternoon we filled up our diesel tanks as the trip to the Cape Verdes had consumed more than one third of our reserves. We are ready for the second part of our journey which will take us 2'100 M (some 3'880 km) further west.

Thursday, December 22nd

<Ruud> It is 08:00 UTC (07:00 local time) and the sun is attempting to break through the clouds. We lift the anchor in a still sleepy harbor and are the first to leave for the Caribbean this day. At least four other boats we know intend to follow and indeed we see their sails behind us. We keep visual contact with two of them but in the night they disappear over the horizon; we are on our own again.

A relative uneventful trip brings us 156 M closer to the Caribbean (6.5 kts in average) or 1'930 M to go. If this continues that way we see land on January 4th.

<Araksi> I saw the green flash! That highly disputed phenomenon during sunset. For just a second or two the red glow of the setting sun turns into a fluorescenting green. Some (who never get the chance to see it) say there is no such a thing but I know better. It was as if the nature was blinking at us on our first day at sea: have a safe passage.

Friday, December 23rd

<Ruud> We are continuing our trip in very light and - more annoying - very variable winds. We sail along side an Australian yacht, Magnum, that has left Mindelo with us. It is a strange feeling, if you like to keep up with another boat, it nearly always fails; now, unintended, we sail miles and miles together and the distance keeps the same. We set up the spinnaker. In this light winds it requires a lot of attention and so the day passes along. In the night we set the genoa again, which reduces our speed even more, but we need some rest and a few dark clouds tell us it is wise to do so. Magnum takes a slightly different course and in the morning hours their navigation lights disappear behind the horizon.

Saturday, December 24th

<Ruud> We remove some flying fish from deck. For some days now they are the only living creatures we are encountering; the sea is full of them.

The spinnaker is up again, and it drives us forth until midday at the very moderate speed of 4.5 kts. Then - as predicted - the wind dies completely and it is motoring time again. For me a moment of truth as I have reset the battery system and hope it will be in order again. As yes, it is. Quite a relief, too many things depend on electricity on a modern sailing yacht. And so we are able to spend a quiet Christmas eve on Garabes.

We have now done 20% of our way from Mindelo to Martinique. No entry in the book of records for fastest crossing. Our only comfort is that boats in the vicinity are not doing much better.

Sunday. December 25th

<Ruud> Ho, Ho, Ho, it's Christmas time. And just when I started to believe that Santa has forgotten us this year we catch a huge Mahi Mahi. Thank you, Ol' Nick, for that fantastic fish, quickly turned into a beautifully styled dinner by chef Araksi.

The worst daily run: 98 M, how (s)low can you go! But even that turns out to be good, as there are some depressions ahead which we are now avoiding. The radio tells us that we most probably get real trade winds when we arrive at 35° west. With our actual speed that means another day of easy crawling forward under spinnaker.

Monday, December 26th

<Ruud> "Snail-sailing" again in the morning. But a dark front on the horizon predicts nothing good and at midday we are running fast under spinnaker to avoid some threatening looking clouds full of rain and - sometimes, you just never know - lots of wind. In the night we are making so much speed that we decide to put down the spinnaker, but: no way! The damn thing is blocked somewhere and simply refuses any attempt to come down. Too much pulling is no good, I would just tear that expensive sheet of cloth in a thousand of pieces. and of course the wind is getting stronger and stronger.

Somehow we get the spi down; it falls into the sea, immediately fills up with water, but an half hour of heavy workmanship and the thing is aboard again. We just dump the whole bunch into the cockpit, at daylight we will check what went wrong. Oh and yes, sailing is fun...

Tuesday, December 27th

<Ruud> There are days when you wish you live upon the hills and the only water you see is coming out of your tap...

The morning starts peacefully, we check the spinnaker and we find a little rope that got stuck between a block. it looked like the reason for the spi not coming down. So we lift the colorful sail up again and while doing so the trampoline in front of the yacht gets its first crack. Not too surprisingly, we were planning to change it in Trinidad anyway. But it was more like a bad omen for things to come.

The wind is getting stronger; we are still in the vicinity of a trough that can quickly change into a vast storm. Our direction should lead us away from the bugger, but it is following us with a speed to big to avoid it. The first rain sets in. We decide to lower the spinnaker and - you guessed it - it blocked again. This time it is more serous though: the winds are quickly reaching 30 knots and whatever we do, we can't get the spinnaker in to its hood for bringing it down. After trying for what seems too last forever, we decide to lower the sheet that holds the spi at the top, and let the whole thing fall. We knew the sail would quickly tumble into the water that way, and it does in the most unfortunate way; just between the hulls. As Garabes is still racing forward, it quickly entangles under one hull. I put all my weight on the last bit I can grasp so the spi will not disappear completely into the water - being too heavy to be hoisted out again - and inch after inch we manage to get the big sail back into the boat again. In the last minute the tip of the anchor tears a hole into the delicate tissue. Thank you for that too. We push the sail in one of the bow lockers before another gust can tear it out of our hands again and crawl back into the cockpit.

With all muscles hurting we realize that it took us more than two hours to get the spi back on board, and that the wind has meanwhile picked up to 39 knots. We raise the main and genoa - both triple reefed - and let Garabes continue her long voyage. A quick dinner and a well deserved little cognac to forget all the pain. All night we are followed by strong squalls carrying rain and lots of winds with them but being too tired, I don't even notice them while asleep.

Wednesday, December 28th

<Ruud> What a difference a day makes: all dark clouds are gone and with them the winds. In the midday hours, I have to turn on the engine again. The front that has threatened us for days now is moving to the north while we are crawling westwards. When do these trade winds finally set in?! We already past 35°W, which was predicted to be the longitude for more favorable trade winds.

Another look at the spinnaker reveals a block (for rolling up and down the hood) that has been damaged. Strange I didn't notice it the first time. We repaired the whole construction but refrain from putting the big sail up for the night. Tomorrow is another day, and some cloud, although far away, remind us of the depression so near, still luring to grab us.

Thursday, December 29th

<Ruud> In the night we had a spectacular firework from the everlasting lightning that was produced by the storm we so narrowly escaped. Although far away (my guess is some 50-100 miles), the whole sky changes from complete dark to bright red and yellow and back again for more than six hours. Good to be not under these clouds; the electric power inside them could easily destroy our electronics.

Bright skies were awaiting us at dawn, and this continued to be this way. Further away, we saw huge cloud formations turning to the north. The weather charts tell us to expect more wind tomorrow, and wind is what we need as we are still crawling along under engine.

Friday, December 30th

<Araksi> The engine has been running now more than two days without any rest. Around 03:00 we noticed the same problem with our battery charger that we had on our way to the Cape Verdes: The alternator on our engine is continuing to pump electricity into the batteries even tough they are fully charged. Thus the charger regulating unit is failing to sense the battery status and so doesn't interrupt the electricity flow. We decided to turn out the engine even though we hardly had 5 kts of wind. The genoa carried Garabes forward with 1.5 - 2 kts. By dawn we hoisted the spinnaker. First being driven gently by a light breeze then at noon by moderate winds, we could increase our miserable daily average of the last couple of days a little.

<Ruud> We had to wait until almost midway, but we had our first feeling of the trade winds today. And now the big test: will it come down, yes it does: in winds that are getting too strong to keep the spinnaker up for the night, we take it down without any problems. Ooff, that is quite a relief. On the radio we hear that another tropical storm is forming, Zeta, incredible late for the year. It is not that far away from us, but if we can continue to go westwards with the actual speed, we should be able to avoid its track. If only the trades will keep up...

Saturday, December 31st

<Ruud> The year ends with the first real good sailing day of our whole passage. A constant trade wind pushes us gently forward and we are making good speed. It was about time. The weather charts are showing the next disturbance though. Tropical storm Zeta is not even out of the way and heavy squalls (dense clouds which can - but must not - contain lots of rain and strong winds) are nearing from the south. The whole way to Martinique is blocked by this formation. We head a bit more north to avoid the worst.

00:00 UTC. Happy New Year! We are at 15° 44.57N 43° 57.40W, in the middle of nowhere thus. Araksi has prepared some delicious snacks and we drink it with a bit of cognac. Then she goes to bed and I take over the watch. What a great feast! And what a difference to a year ago when we celebrated the turn of the year in Alghero with our Dutch and Italian friends. But then again we made more than half way and the indicators on our instruments are ticking down the miles now, and it is still smooth sailing while the predicted squalls have yet to reach us. So no complaints.