Ship’s Log Week Three
Location: Northwest of Lanzarote - 29.338682, -14.430416
Underway and making way - Walrus is headed for Las Palmas.
On Tuesday morning Walrus, skipper and crew headed out of Queensway Marina, Gibraltar, with her new foresail hauled on, water maker attached and shiny new pulpit secure at the bow. Dogged determination and refusal to leave the FedEx office until Walrus’ foresail was released, had paid off.
The final destination before the real departure across the Straits of Gibraltar was Alcaidesa Marina, Spain, where Gerald, with Irish passport, stepped ashore and retrieved the all-important gas canisters. Dicky and I remained firmly on board, with our British passports, to avoid any further customs challenges. Dicky had been refused entry to Spain to buy gas for Walrus, the previous day. Consequently, Gerald, assisted by his son-in-law, Mikko and ten-month-old granddaughter, Annabella, purchased the gas and negotiated overnight storage of the canisters outside the mobile home of a retired German gentleman, who had been kind enough to come to our rescue.
We’re reliant on gas for all cooking – without the now carefully stowed gas cannisters we would likely have runout. The thought of six days sailing to Las Palmas without a cup of tea or coffee was beyond the pale.
While you are likely opening the first of twenty-four advent calendar windows and contemplating decorating the Christmas tree, we are currently motoring towards Las Palmas, with more than 3000 metres of ocean below Walrus, sunshine on her port side bow and a gentle ocean swell. The wind is right on the bow which leaves two options, sail in the wrong direction or motor directly into the wind and head for destination. We‘ve chosen the latter for the time being and plan to be in Las Palmas in the early hours of the morning.
What of the first week’s highlights? Were our hopes or fears realised? As we left Spain to head across the Straits of Gibraltar, I think everyone on board had a mix of feelings- elation and relief at finally leaving Gibraltar and slight trepidation for the scale of the journey ahead. The coastline of Morocco was in sight from the outset. Initially, the immediate challenge was directly in front of us, we were about to cross 11 miles of highly congested waters with container ships, cruise liners and other large vessels heading in and out of the Med, dominating the area of water between Spain and Morocco. Think the M25 in rush hour, but on water and our task was to cross from one side to the other, judging the distance and speed of other vessels to avoid collision as we crossed the shipping lane. Added to this, the waters in this area have become known for orca attacks on yachts of a similar size to Walrus. I was partially reassured by Dicky‘s confident assertion that orca attacks had, generally been reported in the summer. Notwithstanding this, we watched the water surface keenly for any sign of fins. There was an intense moment as we spied marine activity and what looked distinctly like a pointed fin above the waterline about two hundred metres away, followed seconds later by one of joy when dolphins arced out of the water in play before disappearing.
The first part of the week was dominated by the coastlines of Spain and Morocco and the presence of large vessels within eyesight. We noted the yellow smog hanging over the Spanish coastline and the giant port with giraffe like cranes along the quayside on the Moroccan coast.
Once out of the Med we headed South and a watch system of three hours on and six hours off, day and night was started. For me this was my first real experience of a watch system and sailing at night. Adjusting to a broken sleep pattern took a few days to get used to. Night watch at sea is quite an experience for the uninitiated - the starry sky on my first night’s watch was truly amazing. Jupiter shone brightly above Orion’s Belt. Navigation is by way of the iPad that sits on deck and shows a line to the destination in Las Palmas.
The task on night watch is to ensure to keep Walrus going in the right direction safely, avoiding other vessels. The dark plays tricks with the eyes, I have learnt that what, on my first night watch appeared to be two white eyes looming down on us, was the lights on the side of a vessel over 50 metres long travelling a parallel course - so no danger unless the courses intersected. The AIS chart is an essential tool during night sails - a wealth of information, including ’closest point of approach’ and the time that this will occur. I have watched this information like a hawk over the nights of this first week.
This week‘s newsletter wouldn’t be complete without a mention of our only wildlife encounter since heading down the Moroccan coastline – yesterday a brown turtle swam past a few metres away from Walrus, nose in the air above the waterline and a fin raised, as if to wave goodbye, as it went on its way and disappeared from view.
Next week we pick up our fourth crew member, Lydia, before heading away from Las Palmas southwest on the start of Walrus’ Atlantic crossing.