Practical things first today.
We’re a third of the way across. Have covered over 700 miles. About 1400 to go.
We have eaten all the lovely fillets from the fish we caught so will be putting a line out again. Probably with a smaller lure as we don’t need such a big fish again.( I know this approach is completely the right way to go. But part of the competitive me is secretly thinking let’s try for a bigger one).
We’re glad we don’t have access to the internet or tv today as neither of us particularly want to see the inauguration coverage.

Our little tracker seems to doing its thing. It’s not the most advanced, fast moving or interactive computer game on the market but does have a reality to it rather than, well I don’t really know what, as I don’t play computer games, super mario, grand theft auto??? Every hour we hear a small beep from the iridium phone as it sends a text with our location to somewhere and something happens so you get a red dot on a screen thousands of miles away. That’s the technical analysis of the IT hardware and software we currently have available.

We’re getting through reading material too quickly. A book each every day / day and a half. Mostly books we’ve acquired on the trip through exchanges. But a few downloads and books from home. Dave has enjoyed and whipped through Danny Bakers autobiography, re-read Treasure Island (it’s a free download) and persevered through a little self published book written by a bloke about his experiences on a coach tour holiday around Australia. I read it too. God knows why we both persisted, it was utter boring dross. The Australian tourist board ought to buy up all the copies and shred them for hamster bedding. It’s not doing the country any favours.

Each morning we take a walk round the deck to check the rig, look for chaffage (I like that word) and remove the kamikaze flying fish for a burial at sea. I was chatting to Miv by email earlier today about flying fish and his thoughts amused me.

“And what goes through the mind of a Flying Fish as it takes its last gasps on the deck of a small boat in the middle of a massive ocean?
‘Oh, that’s just bloody typical that is. All this sodding water and you go and choose this bit, “come this way” you said, “it’ll be nice over here”. Idiot!”

Massive excitement. No routine and repetition here (reference to last blog), we caught our first fish. And it was a monster. There is photographic evidence. Yeh, I know all about fishing stories and myths.

The day had started well. A pod of dolphins on the bow, much larger and darker in colour than others we’d seen before. We’d finished our scrambled eggs in the cockpit and the line snatched. It’d only been out for a couple of hours as there was little point in fishing with fresh meat on board when we left Mindelo. And the whole point of fishing is to catch our dinner. No sport fishing for us.

Dave got on the rod, wedged himself in the corner of the cockpit and started winding the line in while I collected things together that we might need… camera, (very important), 2 pairs of gloves, knife, chopping board, gaff, bucket and a bottle of very cheap rum.

I’ve been waiting for this moment since we bought the rod in Jersey. Anticipation is a great thing. All the time I was thinking, what’s it gonna be, how big will it be, are we going to be able to get it on board and dispatch it, will it have big teeth, how easily will the hook come out, will my brother believe me?

Dave reeled and a flapping fish appeared above the surface. Nothing like anything I’d ever seen before. It was yellow with blue flashes and a flat forehead. And it was much bigger than we needed. But this was our first fish and there was no way it was going back. I was on a mission.

We got it on board without too much of a struggle, me using the gaff and Dave grabbing its tail and with it upside down, I poured some of the rum into its gills and this dispatched our dinner pretty promptly. It’s amazing how quickly the vibrant sheen of the fish changes and disappears between life and death.

Speedy action then ensued.
No. 1. Photographic evidence.
No.2. Take the fillets off each side. I wasn’t the most skilful at this but we ended up with plenty of meat for a first attempt.
No.3. Take meat down below and get it into meal sized packages and into the fridge asap.
No. 4. Clean the cockpit as it was a bit of a mess.

There we go. I am no longer a fishing virgin. We think we caught a Mahi Mahi. This afternoon I marinated chunks in lemon and lime then cooked it this evening with onion, garlic, red pepper, chilli and coconut milk. With a bit of cous cous on the side. Top healthy fresh nosh.

I will post the photos when we next get wifi. In the meantime, you’ll just have to believe me.

Here’s the thing. We’re on a boat crossing the Atlantic. It’s going to take, we imagine, more than two weeks but less than three. Our immediate world is very small as we have 43 feet to walk up and down. There’s sea and sky and weather and wildlife and maybe other boats but that’s our current existence. What am I going to think up and write about when routine and repetition visit us each day?

Then I remembered the letters I used to exchange with my Grandad as a teenager and a student. He lived in a very small hamlet a stones throw across the border into Scotland. He would drive the three miles once a week to do his shopping in Berwick upon Tweed, visiting the same shops each week. He was a keen gardener and spent time each and every day in his greenhouses, veggie and flower plots. He didn’t really go to many other places, just very occasionally to visit a relative or friend.

He did however the write the most enlightening, amusing and erudite letters about nothing in particular…. The visit of the postman, his trip to buy tea, seeing Miss Cook outside her house. I still have all his letters. They were all identical in form. Blue Basildon Bond writing paper, two sheets of, written on both sides using a black fountain pen. It was always a real pleasure to see one of those blue envelopes waiting for me. I loved those letters about nothing in particular.

So my plan over the next few days is to write about nothing in particular and try and make it interesting so you too can occasionally have a Basildon Bond Blue Letter.

16 39.3N, 26 35.6W.

We left Mindelo at about 2pm yesterday. I should explain that the times here are ‘ship time’. Mindelo is one hour behind UK, and Barbados is a further three hours different to Mindelo so the strategy for time, copied from the crew on Spirit of Oysterhaven, is: change clock on departure, half way across and on arrival. We should hardly notice.

What we will notice is the extra day the crossing may take due to the very light and fickle winds we had on the first night out. Speeds were dire. The run to noon today is a rather paltry 85 miles. So it’ll be about a 95 mile 24 hour run. Somewhat different to the vendee globe fleet.

They are out here somewhere. If anyone fancies it, compare our track to theirs and do let us know if it looks like we’ll meet any of them. Same goes for the Talisker Atlantic Challenge. (Now there’s a top sponsor deal). The rowing, yes ROWING, teams left the Canaries about four weeks ago heading for Antigua. There is tracking on their website but I only found it by googling for the tracking, couldn’t find it otherwise.

We are up to better speed now, between 5 and 6 knots most of the time. Winds are F4 and on the starboard quarter for our desired heading of, yes you guessed it, West. We are having to relearn the windvane self steering. It’s part science, part art, and it was pointed out by a Scandinavian crew in Mindelo, part magic. I don’t feel like we have any fairy dust to sprinkle at the moment so it’s a bit of a headache. To be honest the windvane doesn’t particularly like the downwind stuff. It allows us to meander about 30 degrees either side of the course and with a risk of a gybe ever present it’s frustrating. It worked great when we were dead downwind using the twin yankees on the way to Mindelo, but if we did that now we’d be following Danny and Em on Stepping Out to Brazil. And I really want to get to the Caribbean. There’s cricket to see don’t you know.

Lisa will post this on the blog for us, thanks again Lisa. I’m not sure how we are going to get to see your comments though, they usually come to helens email which is out of reach for the duration of the crossing. You can always mail us on the sat phone address, graceoflongstone @my iridium.net.

Time for a cuppa. And love to all of you out there.

PS – this was written by Dave

Hi. Dave here. Shamed into writing by pressure from a number of folk who responded to our last blog.

Finally, the work on the wind-vane frame was finished and it was installed this morning. It may be a few days later than promised but the workmanship is without fault. The yacht engineer business here has the strap line ‘if it’s man made – we can fix it’. And I believe them. Their workshop is one part modern machine shop one part jumble store of recycled and collected boats bits and pieces.

It will have been worth waiting as without the wind steering it is much harder on the two of us, hand steering for a few hours on a coastal passage is fun, but non stop for a number of days is too much.  We do have an electric autopilot we can revert to but as H has said I do worry about the amps.

We had a text this evening from the Coconuts (Hugh, Miranda and Simon.) they are already 400 miles west of us and we will have our work cut out to catch them before landfall in Barbados. If we are later in guys, remember the cold ones we had for you on your arrival in Mindelo…

So, we’ll be at sea for at least 17 days. We intend to update the blog with help from Lisa. We can receive texts to the sat phone. +8816 51486672. Uk mobile providers may charge this but you can also text via the iridium website, http://www.messaging.iridium.com, or email us at graceoflongstone@myiridium.net. Just plain text please, if you include photos of the 6 foot of snow in the back garden it won’t get through, much as we’d like to see it.

Time to go now. A few chores to tick off tomorrow then slip the lines and head west. It will be good to get back out to sea. Landfalls are great but the pull of new places to go prevents us sticking long in one place. Boat maintenance is the thing that does that.

Wish us fair winds and gentle seas. We will keep you posted on progress and if you feel like getting in touch, please do. As Miv said earlier today, urges get rarer as you get older, best act on every one.

Our newly welded self steering

our departure point

Simon, Hugh and Miranda leaving 4 days ahead of us for Barbados. Don’t think we’ll catch them.

Getting the dinghy stowed

I’m feeling a little under pressure. H has pointed out that I have only written one blog in the six months we have been afloat and that this, really doesn’t come up to muster, or some such phrase.
So, here’s a few stories from the last few days.

That was Dave’s contribution to blog-dom. He hasn’t got any further as there was some ‘spanner-ing’ to be done. Easily distracted that boy. Am I being a bit mean publishing this? Undoubtedly yes…..but maybe it will spur him into action! He writes really well so feel free to start a petition or a t shirt campaign to get him to write more. You know the kind of thing, “Free the Cromford one” or “Frankie says relax”.

Enough of my blog bullying, the Atlantic looms. The marina boys have been round with our newly welded self steering metalwork. In offering it up, a washer has dropped into the sea so they’ve headed back to the workshop to get another. The sea is unforgiving.

The self steering works brilliantly when set up properly and means we don’t need to hand steer and it doesn’t require any battery power. Dave works for the ‘battery police’ in his spare time and constantly monitors amps so a system which does not require any amps, is a dream for his mental health. And mine.

There’ll be a bit of tinkering and adjustment to make when the metalwork is remounted but once done, we’re essentially free to depart. The big engineering job is ticked. Fresh food provisioning will be our last job. Oranges, sweet potatoes and onions last well. Soft fruit not so good. But nice for a few days. We have enough dry stores, pasta, rice, noodles, tins of tomatoes etc to see us stocked up for many sea mile. Not the most exciting of culinary treats but do have a jar of extra extra hot Nando’s chilli sauce on board which can spice up any meal.

We have done a bit more exploring. Our best trip involved a day on Santo Antao, the most westerly of the Cape Verde Islands. The island interior is the polar opposite to San Vincente. We took a minibus up near the top of the island and walked down through the volcanic crater to the sea. It’s stunning. A steep cobbled path led down through lush, green, fertile lands offering fantastic growing conditions for sugar cane, papaya, bananas, coffee, tomatoes, oranges, and cabbages. My photos don’t give a true sense of the place. Part Middle Earth, part Heligan in Cornwall but real and not a garden, we enjoyed the company of the crews from Little Coconut and Spirit of Oysterhaven. Getting into bed that night, we were still smiling from our day trip.

I think we have sorted the tracking out on the website so if you choose, you’ll be able to see us crossing the pond…..slowly. I’ve added a page called Tracking. There is a link on that page that takes you through to a predict wind site and fingers crossed you’ll see us.

Our friend the Lovely Lisa has volunteered to keep our blog updated while we’re at sea. Thanks Lovely Lisa. Your cabin awaits when you visit us in the Carib. We plan to email Lisa text every few days when we are at sea and she will work her IT magic and put it up in the blog. Won’t be any pics as our email isn’t that grand but we will post these from the other side. Barbados here we come. 2,100 miles at 5 knots is 17.5 days. The maths won’t be exact like this but we hope to be in within 20 days. We’re both keen to get going and are excited at the prospect of our first ocean crossing.

Dave at work in Mindelo

Descent with Simon and Miranda

Harding towards the fertile terraces

Dave buying coffee

Our walking gang

Vertical fields

Nice shapes

Nursery for new banana saplings

Skipper Oliver heading off

Tea and freshly made bread

Beach day

Last day together

Market

Mindelo outdoor market

Beach front

NYE on Grace

Street party

Whizz

Heading out of town

Surf beach

That’s a party. You wake up at 9am on 1st January and the sound system on the Main Street is still pumping out tunes. Not for long admittedly, only for another 15 minutes or so to complete the 12 hour music festival but I hold my hands up and say ‘Good effort Mindelo’.

New Years Eve was a top day. My hair was starting to look like a bush once again. Upstairs in the corner of the covered market we stumbled across a women’s hairdressers. African hair is somewhat different to English hair, but hey, scissors are scissors and I needed a cut. I’d describe the lady who cut my unruly locks as ‘A Big Mamma’.

With no idea what I was going to end up looking like, she started pulling and chopping quite aggressively as she circled round me with her scissors, perched on a stool on wheels. The best bit was when she’d finished she threw both her hands up in the air and declared ‘magnificent’. Can’t argue with that!

With my new magnificent haircut, the end of year festivities started. We visited another English boat for drinks at 7pm then back to ours as Dan & Emily and Hugh & Miranda were coming round to eat. Dave had rigged up some led lights in the cockpit so the boat looked lovely. We’d each prepared a course so ate like kings and had a truely memorable evening. Dan and Emily are off to Brazil then Argentina and finally Chile, departing tomorrow. We have sailed in their company on and off since September. Bye guys, we’ll miss you. Safe sailing.

At 11.45pm we left the boat to prepare for the fireworks. I think the whole of the island population was in town. Mums, dads, granny’s, kids. There was a great atmosphere and the fireworks lit up the bay and the crowds whooped and cheered.

We then became part of the slow moving melee which headed up the Main Street towards the sound stage. There were old boys swaying and dancing with such rhythm, looking super cool, conga lines of teenagers and little kids bopping away. The bass cranked up and we headed back to the relative calm of the boat for tea in the cockpit before bed at 2am.

After a slowish start to NYD’s, we headed off on cobbled roads in the back of Manuel’s pick up truck to the other side of the island in search of surf for Hugh. Manuel helped us find a wild deserted beach where Hugh caught some waves and the rest of us played in the surf. Warm water. Nice.

Two throughly enjoyable days. Back to boat chores tomorrow in prep for heading west.

Headline news is that we are safe and sound in Mindelo, Cape Verde after a 7 day crossing from Santa Cruz, Tenerife. My brother provided with me with two facts about the Cape Verde islands that I know you will expand your useful knowledge bank.

1. There is one goat for every two people.
2. There are no mosquitos.

He may of course have made this up for amusement sake so do check!

The last seven days have been full of contrasts.

• Force seven winds, big seas, scraps of sail and the occasional wave into the cockpit v flat calm and engine on
• Unexpected and an unwanted saltwater shower as a load of water came through one of the hatches v planned delightful freshwater shower after 7 days at sea
• Struggling to keep cereal in a bowl as the boat lurches v mango, pineapple and orange fruit salad for breakfast sat in the cockpit
• Sleeping for 3 hours maximum v a delicious 12 sleep hours undisturbed on arrival
• Cold beers with friends on arrival on a floating beach bar v tea in a mug on passage at 3.56am

What was our longest crossing so far like? The first three days were pretty uncomfortable and not at all what I’d signed up for. It was ‘darned’ unpleasant at times. Not your gin and tonics with nibbles on the poop deck at 6pm in your little black dress kind of sailing.

Being the pragmatist that I am, its all a bit more experience in the locker. Grace got us here safely with not many breakages. It’s certainly the most sustained period of hardship that she’s been put through in our ownership. However, the passage is all ancient history now. I still find it remarkable how quickly moods and situations can change.

We’ve been to the immigration office this morning and then to the police, so we are officially allowed to be here now. Also collected the first passport stamp of the trip. The town feels distinctly African, we are no longer in Europe. There’s an outdoor market which sells everything from sugar cane to second hand engines to phone chargers.
Re -provisioning with fresh fruit and veg looks eminently straightforward. The supermarket is not so super. Somewhat more frugal than the ginormous CarreFour in Santa Cruz.

Christmas kind of passed us by. My Christmas present to Dave was to let him sleep in and have an extra hour of kip before swapping watches. When he reciprocated the gift, it was the best present ever. We have Cape Verde radio on and I’ve just listen to my first Christmas track this festive season. Can’t say I’ve missed the ‘in your face’ aspect of Christmas.

To prove we have had rain

Sunday morning cleaning

This yacht is a bit bigger than ours….

Man in a small space

Scurvy avoidance

It took us over 3 hours to shop

In the next few hours we leave for the Cape Verde Islands. It’s over 800 miles so we think it’ll take us 6 or 7 days. It’s taken two and a half full days to get ready to depart. We have a plan to meet friends in Mindelo for New Year.

Other news is we have a tracking device which we’ve tried to upload a specific page on the website here which puts a dot onto a map as to where we are. But IT gremlins have been naughty and we haven’t managed to sort it yet. However, here is a link that you can click on.

Tiede from a few miles away taken on our way back to the boat

Moon coming up

Sun’s coming

On top waiting for the sun to rise. Chuffing cold!

Above the cloud

Starting the walk in

Is Mars like this?

Sun rise

Hut on the way down.

Evidence of last lava flow

Mountain shadow as the sun goes down

Today we are both suffering from particularly achy legs. Yesterday we went up Mount Tiede, the highest point in the Canaries and also the whole of Spain at 3,718m or 12,198ft if you prefer your mountains in old money.

Numbers aside, it was ‘flipping’ hard work walking up and down. We had booked to stay in the refuge and arrived about 6.30pm, the walk up taking 2 hours and 40 minutes. Unlike those poor souls tucking into their pot noodles and black tea, we had carried in chicken and leek casserole, cheese and biscuits, fresh fruit and Green and Blacks Hot Chocolate mix. Just because you’re staying in a mountain hut and have to carry your food in, is no excuse for eating badly in our world.

I think I counted 7 bunk beds in our room so space for 14 folk. I slept pretty dreadfully as I was waiting for someone to snore really badly which is what normally happens in huts. Surprisingly this didn’t happen but I foolishly spent most of the night waiting for it. Weird logic.

So up at 5, depart at 5.30am. The temperature at the hut was -2 degrees. The moon was full so no torches needed on the ascent which was exhausting and steep. Having spent the last 6 months pretty much at sea level, the altitude was probably a factor in our slow deliberate plod or maybe we’re not as fit as we thought. Or maybe a bit of both. And we’re not 25 anymore!

We arrived at the top about 7am and the sun came up above the horizon over Gran Canaria about 7.30. Those 30 minutes were particularly s-t-r-e-t-c-h-e-d out.The moon was still up so it was remarkably light and also remarkably chilly, I’m guessing around -6 plus the wind chill. Bit of a shock when most of your days the temperature is in the mid 20’s.

We hid behind rocks out of the wind and waited for the feeling to come back into our fingers. Definitely out of practice at this mountain lark. The sun did its thing, we grabbed some quick snaps with the camera and swiftly headed down, arriving back at the hut about 8.30am for hot drinks and some late breakfast.

Then we stomped down the hill getting back to the car for 10.50am. The landscape is quite remarkable. I don’t recall walking anywhere like this before. The drive up is spectacular from sea level through laurel, eucalyptus and pine forests out above the tree line. You’re then into desert like conditions followed by lava flow and a variety of rocks in the crater and on the volcano itself. At the very top of Tiede, there is some sulphurous smoke coming out of the ground and what appear to be various bits of kit monitoring the activity.

Just because we could, on our return to sea level, we went straight to the beach where it was 24 degrees, for a burger and a beer.