tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59465113733177183332023-12-12T07:16:34.093-08:00Mediterranean Adventure & Beyond - Croatia to the Virgin IslandsChronicles the voyage of the good ship Vanilla. Beginning in Split, Croatia in November 2011, crossing the Adriatic Sea to Italy, around the Boot, through the Messina Straits, up the Western Coast of Sicily, Westward to Sardinia, onward to the Balearic Islands, Gibraltar and then to Morocco. Then continuing through the Canarie Islands, then across the Atlantic to the US Virgin Islands... AND BEYOND!Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger45125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946511373317718333.post-13649620198718417402012-05-03T03:10:00.001-07:002012-05-03T03:30:13.947-07:00More Antigua Sailing Week Pictures<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyM8-B_nj-jWwVHnUQoZpm3kYhIJp_LjFu8FQvzaTXpH5u1pE8J_dqakKlJlmPCWjA9wEkXhG0Os5AWWlSgLD439dZArcCASy-D5LibtFJqDnKgG_UiYkdRZb-w97dSNna6BG407KBwA4/s640/blogger-image--1732535992.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyM8-B_nj-jWwVHnUQoZpm3kYhIJp_LjFu8FQvzaTXpH5u1pE8J_dqakKlJlmPCWjA9wEkXhG0Os5AWWlSgLD439dZArcCASy-D5LibtFJqDnKgG_UiYkdRZb-w97dSNna6BG407KBwA4/s640/blogger-image--1732535992.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWvRjO7utp1TeoPK-HCy-ZAJ6F8xzig1RPFVaAr2Q2yixLvn5cUemfXA_1NLU88MX29L2bzHoQMQNhpUgxVqscJNeISyUzDh9mSbjyqQtchlNxNNui8gYN4gGjFubAB9fXF7297cHhj2U/s640/blogger-image--1158029201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9-TE8j_EIIhaSvq3uL0LkNnxxSzcYAfrktxfp2boMu8pWpgLS4ldR7ro8fi47ANt_ECUAc35iphZp8PjYnbg91SyIB_022eX_44Cw9CdZ7xACzdn1O2osw6w5ylQ_ryt8lm5F_YR1pPg/s640/blogger-image-1079307657.jpg" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946511373317718333.post-69960356486023346302012-05-03T03:04:00.001-07:002012-05-03T03:10:56.860-07:00Antigua Sailing Week 2012All aboard for a week of fun including 7 races, fine dining, reggae concerts and comradarie all in a Caribbean setting. The team consist of Serge, Cynthia, Daniel, Marty, Ray, Abby, Ben and Terry. <div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTqV2PbsKil2qCGtmyn6SGVv0g3DwwlNknECmNUUDemxM2Z6XlaHZ3BqCvKITq_EZqrqOkuukIOJJCoG-Zzj_Q3AcWTQFM3jyNdHfo9tp-NhbW3UzvWzo6A4syRvx7p5fsqztXhVJ2lm4/s640/blogger-image-578902209.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTqV2PbsKil2qCGtmyn6SGVv0g3DwwlNknECmNUUDemxM2Z6XlaHZ3BqCvKITq_EZqrqOkuukIOJJCoG-Zzj_Q3AcWTQFM3jyNdHfo9tp-NhbW3UzvWzo6A4syRvx7p5fsqztXhVJ2lm4/s640/blogger-image-578902209.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjh8i69ImmfvqLrdFwxbXjXRGE6rgq1rAO7AtO_sdlyoX9mUldRoqqIRVfdvWjhgelDS3hg63It0dmwHkXyMB70q5CMt8sIm5AzOVhqbD90hy_Z9bz2yn5T_4TYm431U_oWFm9u-NeHOw/s640/blogger-image-699920824.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjh8i69ImmfvqLrdFwxbXjXRGE6rgq1rAO7AtO_sdlyoX9mUldRoqqIRVfdvWjhgelDS3hg63It0dmwHkXyMB70q5CMt8sIm5AzOVhqbD90hy_Z9bz2yn5T_4TYm431U_oWFm9u-NeHOw/s640/blogger-image-699920824.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-2_kGHeDWVtHEA5nlnQDiXGCbJWz9iAwP1JAx3PhLR1q4UuQbthTgipIbt6MItoaZUBLgD4oM9OOHQt6eAZOsBSGU1HFin09eW5152JteEbitRP685f14AIYbCLvE1dCH3JP2soWY0Kc/s640/blogger-image--1442424619.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-2_kGHeDWVtHEA5nlnQDiXGCbJWz9iAwP1JAx3PhLR1q4UuQbthTgipIbt6MItoaZUBLgD4oM9OOHQt6eAZOsBSGU1HFin09eW5152JteEbitRP685f14AIYbCLvE1dCH3JP2soWY0Kc/s640/blogger-image--1442424619.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAjIY0ALLNmr31ATalYA4P1gaCfAEh-5OJpygcSVHSJYFq5OgcASYxx5NvQt3SezDHOcbVpyB62oQLmNFAdFoUDI-XhLBoNehVOnW2yk2pCzRzTYNDxZn4F8it1tPpxCb3_kFfY7n03Wg/s640/blogger-image-977656696.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAjIY0ALLNmr31ATalYA4P1gaCfAEh-5OJpygcSVHSJYFq5OgcASYxx5NvQt3SezDHOcbVpyB62oQLmNFAdFoUDI-XhLBoNehVOnW2yk2pCzRzTYNDxZn4F8it1tPpxCb3_kFfY7n03Wg/s640/blogger-image-977656696.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTiFUN9kraisGz0FOOQkGmrPbLshyphenhyphen4k-qwkaKZm8eNbO2SfA9AJMe693KPFtVmNxFqynTKYa55GpZbJoD3PA2b7odCmPk00omZc40HzHghAt67H-AiKQyhivToQ6txuzVnWav7Wc2W48s/s640/blogger-image-263980870.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTiFUN9kraisGz0FOOQkGmrPbLshyphenhyphen4k-qwkaKZm8eNbO2SfA9AJMe693KPFtVmNxFqynTKYa55GpZbJoD3PA2b7odCmPk00omZc40HzHghAt67H-AiKQyhivToQ6txuzVnWav7Wc2W48s/s640/blogger-image-263980870.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUjqiXYWV0RKzhgdH-hb83aIWBptZ0AVTfRIwBot3Oh5sPm1JRQdTvADP_lA-Ge4wJozi9g9-wNQvy-UzdDarNi7zvEkk1WcPCsuKLkDvkepFamSqf1DiB7LPlQKNz2-x8fgqrT8OY90I/s640/blogger-image-1783919972.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio7PJ71T86W8MmBL1XwiVQ4C-60z65df9MG8r0X0yuJ6dOBehS54lrQi0elQt4ZRFKzxWtJ2m5fsOHNQsi1yUCWyfHS0edv3e7TL33QMGssn1o8UZHWNOjZjxRrMvZEXROiP2_rlEfwU4/s640/blogger-image--1715464191.jpg" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946511373317718333.post-44314282664437013702012-04-28T04:08:00.001-07:002012-04-28T04:08:47.340-07:00And Then There Was Four... Destination Antigua!In the sweltering heat of Saint Martin Cynthia and Serge are joined by Daniel and revisited by Terry. They plan to join up with four others for the annual Antigua Sailing week. However, the matter at hand is making the 110 nautical mile crossing from Saint Martin to Antigua. Will the wind be friend or foe? All indicators say foe.<br />
<br />
The late night start proves to be a bit rough and a decision was made to take safe harbor in Saint Bartholomey which is approximately 15 nautical miles from Saint Martin. In daylight we would be better able to navigate through the wave action. <br />
<br />
We set out and 15 hours later we dropped anchor in Antigua<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-pNHH0ppynXKYPr72WOsTmQg4eXQaNCsKIQj84hVkniOtG6YV82DpBqlFgQymhIWqscFliSEnIWc-bBGa9W009f15YhlN9KmPC1pQfEJ-RUeEFCeoUkPvLn3jtFpvoRfuCKMgcCliEms/s640/blogger-image-1033474465.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-pNHH0ppynXKYPr72WOsTmQg4eXQaNCsKIQj84hVkniOtG6YV82DpBqlFgQymhIWqscFliSEnIWc-bBGa9W009f15YhlN9KmPC1pQfEJ-RUeEFCeoUkPvLn3jtFpvoRfuCKMgcCliEms/s640/blogger-image-1033474465.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPu2vNsIODVcKNR7m9rCzltCDTEXlVNDMVPzBPTLOY169WU_Kk-61Qt70hAqrhvz7VacJy79NbzC6iRm0hoMoEaqiAyi1p2y6vCfhoQ_Pr7SOxxMzqamzG34D5CfCxPEdvaFtIxe-fTfw/s640/blogger-image--206086964.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiok4b5HwXRhJpYtNFTsG-Xn78I76fqmoYVi3z4YFV_X0-LNvnKKzVlkL0Pb9NaXlJqaKXminhqkjrhWFQRBWybOFQEdfVyIQrf79VGkrR0QjfXMYxE1glpdt_CZQGGfnvGzm72nqfIY64/s640/blogger-image-741090312.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE2Y-SRddDmVKGBIdCHRlt1uBqvikpAT82RLvXXojPKbJdmSTpRZ8uek0aEeke4LSyLC3LBK5wzi__F00rFAQYMarrttUKhLM-ZyL2zmL-VHWYjFhWURYk4_lvVH3rjIjpF8XPgyAYfoU/s640/blogger-image-676074037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE2Y-SRddDmVKGBIdCHRlt1uBqvikpAT82RLvXXojPKbJdmSTpRZ8uek0aEeke4LSyLC3LBK5wzi__F00rFAQYMarrttUKhLM-ZyL2zmL-VHWYjFhWURYk4_lvVH3rjIjpF8XPgyAYfoU/s640/blogger-image-676074037.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvboBenxqRNVsfqHRs3p2eqH5t1FQ04aqr74sSayedwVA0yUBT88Jk15BehKUEMSiEzpxlZpwPt6x8p15HzYHVKLCWL5nfSvSevtLj3B0VV5kzFjP-rGKYyVGVGN5xTuS3nvr0IbVXPjk/s640/blogger-image--1929052495.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvboBenxqRNVsfqHRs3p2eqH5t1FQ04aqr74sSayedwVA0yUBT88Jk15BehKUEMSiEzpxlZpwPt6x8p15HzYHVKLCWL5nfSvSevtLj3B0VV5kzFjP-rGKYyVGVGN5xTuS3nvr0IbVXPjk/s640/blogger-image--1929052495.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwCuDPfSOVt0AOa0o8ENlV739piFtHSdLtWC_oCinEWHgBDe-Y8BrQkmcsdLgRQc86WACvUouOZODYudHjQVyLA6v8dBl4HOcEiYnABdOX5ms39-4Jmtv2aZ2AVQn-BdcxYIi8tH8OFMc/s640/blogger-image--1074392211.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwCuDPfSOVt0AOa0o8ENlV739piFtHSdLtWC_oCinEWHgBDe-Y8BrQkmcsdLgRQc86WACvUouOZODYudHjQVyLA6v8dBl4HOcEiYnABdOX5ms39-4Jmtv2aZ2AVQn-BdcxYIi8tH8OFMc/s640/blogger-image--1074392211.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGsaZYL_YrH6IP5eDcddRSJZG1324MGHHZQhBHT8Wrk_QH2u7AwVi7RxpPDTaRbU1879lgFGM8-xe921kZwoi2QCP47zYYah3q8FFknSw_Qcx9aRkOkMC4va0hOi_9tJOjfdH2qsWK6A8/s640/blogger-image--1075105037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGsaZYL_YrH6IP5eDcddRSJZG1324MGHHZQhBHT8Wrk_QH2u7AwVi7RxpPDTaRbU1879lgFGM8-xe921kZwoi2QCP47zYYah3q8FFknSw_Qcx9aRkOkMC4va0hOi_9tJOjfdH2qsWK6A8/s640/blogger-image--1075105037.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNEKQ5Ev-2NuHHufcNZRyv6dCfiklp247A7PATUxxSdxODu5KEA00eaeEMEQqlnm-0a1uPLinOZUUUijtb_kM_1BZycPX1K3qU5byY3ZzQGuPSljNAin3Mvnr02at5nbvnygfi9qU0fj4/s640/blogger-image-1667763454.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNEKQ5Ev-2NuHHufcNZRyv6dCfiklp247A7PATUxxSdxODu5KEA00eaeEMEQqlnm-0a1uPLinOZUUUijtb_kM_1BZycPX1K3qU5byY3ZzQGuPSljNAin3Mvnr02at5nbvnygfi9qU0fj4/s640/blogger-image-1667763454.jpg" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946511373317718333.post-63948026681995429212012-03-19T14:32:00.000-07:002012-03-19T14:32:33.848-07:00Haul out in St. MaartenThe bay at Phillisburg is very shallow too. The depth sounder was going crazy & we touched bottom a couple of times. It was low tide. Hmm. Seem to remember something about that. Guess we should have checked the tide tables, ya think? Boats were rafted together double wide at the travel lift, crowding the entrance. To make it more complicated the cross wind was howling at 20 knots easy. Serge put her into the slip no problem, but then they told us they'll have to remove the forestay. There was no way, too much trouble to disconnect the profurl electrical connections, so we opt to go in stern to & remove the backstays. Easier said than done. There was no room to maneuver & lots of wind but Serge manages perfectly as usual. The backstays were tight, & awkward to work on in the burning noonday sun, & we didn't have the optimal tools to do it. I made lemonade below & put the aloe in the fridge. As it turned out when she was in the sling, we saw that we didn't need to do any of it. The usual competent boatyard help.<br />
Boatyards are the most toxic places on the planet. Between sanding & grinding, bottom paints & glues, it's a nightmare of chemicals, not to mention all the toe stubbing & head hitting hazards. We're right up against the fence, 14 feet in the air, with boatloads of cruise ship cargo walking by. I scrubbed cushions by the ditch which doesn't drain properly, which explains the swarms of mosquitoes at night. We have to listen to locals painting their ferry hull arguing in the local patois of French, English, & Dutch creole. They are yelling non-stop. At one point I walk up & tell them they are worse than a henhouse. And I tell the guy sitting in the shade on 'my dinghy' doing most of the talking that he should be ashamed of himself. He tells me he's the boss. Turns out he's not, but anyway, I felt better & made instant friends of the Rasta workers, the oldest of which wears fluorescent purple Keds high tops. I'm wondering how he reconciles that with the "natural" lifestyle espoused by Rastafarians.<br />
We become regulars at the "12 Meter Bar" run by a young Frenchman who
really wanted to be on the stage, I think. He's very entertaining &
plays old French songs which he & Serge know by heart. <br />
In the afternoons we go to the beach nearby that is designed for the cruise ships. You can buy 3 beers for $2.50 & drink on the streets. We usually shower on the transom in the dark & use the yards 25 cent toilets which close between 10 pm & 7 am so we have a bucket at night, oh joy. Ask me about the jalepeno burger night. Man, we are really living the high life, aren't we? Don't get me started about laundry. <br />
One day I decide to splurge & wash my hair in the yard's showers
which are a dollar to get in & 50 cents for 3 min. That afternoon
I roll around in the surf & have a ball & get full of sand while Serge steams on the beach, some kind of argument, I can't remember the details. I go up to the showers armed with quarters only to find they are out of service. Serge tried to get all the sand out of my hair but there was still some on the pillow.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirUJ2NZVm_BKAQcFzD-VDyJClBw5Qm9kwsqjEcSYPlMdQESovKikp2I5KlvjqNrFnEmsMTXt1PrrLDlLTFv5uDLVvOUa46aTFgRV557wxAO2r2TKkaNrNjM5KI_-CmVMcX-Ur3PobZyWI/s1600/DSC01451.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirUJ2NZVm_BKAQcFzD-VDyJClBw5Qm9kwsqjEcSYPlMdQESovKikp2I5KlvjqNrFnEmsMTXt1PrrLDlLTFv5uDLVvOUa46aTFgRV557wxAO2r2TKkaNrNjM5KI_-CmVMcX-Ur3PobZyWI/s320/DSC01451.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuBE_asngnJ2g7VXi7nJPBA3GIrPgl7md7vpca0ipJApshluqPdB4w6QSubJLYZXkbFRDOI7j7iaN4eznMP01i9_RToG28a2EhU5mH2TCW-f8o3bgjfRHBLGmn0iBTNYze_46BUI8KXG8/s1600/DSC01452.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuBE_asngnJ2g7VXi7nJPBA3GIrPgl7md7vpca0ipJApshluqPdB4w6QSubJLYZXkbFRDOI7j7iaN4eznMP01i9_RToG28a2EhU5mH2TCW-f8o3bgjfRHBLGmn0iBTNYze_46BUI8KXG8/s640/DSC01452.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Launch day is incredibly windy & the slip is full of pointy parts threatening our new shiny hull. Some boat is parked right in the slip, obstructing the way out. And he's got 20' of room behind him and he's waiting to get in. But he would not move back to make it easier for us to get out....I guess this guy did not belong on a boat. We've got help on shore but it takes several tries before we can get the bow thruster to come up with the goods & shoot on out of there...into the shallow water at low tide. Something seems vaguely familiar here. <br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946511373317718333.post-23505975215366633602012-03-18T15:16:00.002-07:002012-03-18T15:16:53.581-07:00Nevis to St. Bart'sbecame a clothing optional sail. Luckily there was a lot of wind & we got there faster than expected or Serge's buns would have been charcoal. I had to smear on the aloe leaf liberally. Sometimes the pieces have a little thorn on them, oh well.<br />
The bay in Gustavia is quite shallow & crowded w/mega yachts, it takes your breath away. The babes at the croissant corner take your breath away too, I had to perform mouth to mouth on Serge a couple of times. He's gonna need a chiropractor for his neck. He hasn't seemed to have grasped the meaning of the word "discreet." I thought it was a French word? <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinztJhRppbCMWW9oo5gQEFpUhNBKBZ-XVFiZaOHIEBBs6uyzhx0kCs7aamY8BiFtBbrvGvSkjaBFROYMipWNQA82Fvh675E0YAzfrtKSB5qpgXmAzD6DbERcSd9oTlFoeBXXPlVXZ7UEc/s1600/DSC01445.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinztJhRppbCMWW9oo5gQEFpUhNBKBZ-XVFiZaOHIEBBs6uyzhx0kCs7aamY8BiFtBbrvGvSkjaBFROYMipWNQA82Fvh675E0YAzfrtKSB5qpgXmAzD6DbERcSd9oTlFoeBXXPlVXZ7UEc/s640/DSC01445.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Future mega yacht owners</td></tr>
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<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhKXvDhWZYkAhJl1bv_J_buk7BKvTEK9QoueziiifARm0e3QwcRiZsf_r8P2GZoqYLaf_bJfA1WTbrE3bcwi032vGYUQiLyj-cN4O2FK-PY1smzgc-5hBBT4FPscAKBZGSpVBZV7wgsU8/s1600/DSC01446.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhKXvDhWZYkAhJl1bv_J_buk7BKvTEK9QoueziiifARm0e3QwcRiZsf_r8P2GZoqYLaf_bJfA1WTbrE3bcwi032vGYUQiLyj-cN4O2FK-PY1smzgc-5hBBT4FPscAKBZGSpVBZV7wgsU8/s640/DSC01446.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look carefully, this is a trimaran</td></tr>
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<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7YGJTrODHIZ63reC4l7Bnpg6x49eOilbIVHD2w8r16hTql0W770BXcSSpzpgIt8_AT353swtqPVE_3NKMiKfmkud4-KF5CsdCRXZwPVrCDAovEM3w1uVB4Glzmw1tyalqe9RFlKfAlVw/s1600/DSC01447.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7YGJTrODHIZ63reC4l7Bnpg6x49eOilbIVHD2w8r16hTql0W770BXcSSpzpgIt8_AT353swtqPVE_3NKMiKfmkud4-KF5CsdCRXZwPVrCDAovEM3w1uVB4Glzmw1tyalqe9RFlKfAlVw/s640/DSC01447.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New construction of classic design</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3YvWEdGo0lIxGeMz7xRbnwPJT_SH_HWpX9ysydttEBqJdPgypLhtsq9G3bySDlmp4c_co4Q67pdSSot6IrkJarMCRKcdieI8Zg-7wDVJF4OOHgbzrgZX8fLRx4n_HNFRNq7GzxVB7dh4/s1600/DSC01450.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3YvWEdGo0lIxGeMz7xRbnwPJT_SH_HWpX9ysydttEBqJdPgypLhtsq9G3bySDlmp4c_co4Q67pdSSot6IrkJarMCRKcdieI8Zg-7wDVJF4OOHgbzrgZX8fLRx4n_HNFRNq7GzxVB7dh4/s640/DSC01450.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More money than brains</td></tr>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946511373317718333.post-12343773842290681542012-02-25T18:06:00.000-08:002012-02-25T18:06:54.271-08:00Monserrat to NevisClearing in & out at customs on the French Islands is a breeze. You sit at the computer terminal & do their job for them, & then print it out & hand it in. The British Islands on the other hand are archaic. They want to know about your ship's stores, how much alcohol, tobacco, firearms, livestock, (LIVESTOCK??) you have. Monserrat's big draw now is the wreck of the volcano, which we didn't go tour. We opted to go looking for wifi instead. We were told it was too far to walk, but we got there in 20 min. There are 5000 people left, & apparently there is no planning. Wifi didn't work, surprise, surprise. We left early, at 7 a.m. when they came to ask us to move to make room for a small cargo ship. <br />
We made Nevis before 2 p.m. thinking we had plenty of time to explore,
HA. After the customs clear in, we had to go to immigration, "2 blocks
down the street, above the police station". Well, 5 blocks later, we
finally found it. The officer could only stamp our passports, as "the
computers are down". From there we had to go to the Port Authority, a
10 square meter shack where we had to pay $60 for our stay on a mooring
ball. Serge needed to find a cash machine for Eastern Caribbean
dollars. The 1st 3 didn't work, so we paid in US dollars & euros.
After we got our receipt, we had to go back to customs to get our
clearance. Can you see how ludicrous this is? We've already seen half
the town by the time we've cleared in. By then it was well after 4,
& we have to move our boat half a mile to their mooring ball. So
much for getting an early start.<br />
We decided to stay an extra day to climb the dormant volcano. We ask at
the dockside bar that we frequented where the trailhead is. We were
told Hermitage. Tourist info office was closed on Sat. so no map. A
cab driver takes us to Hermitage & the desk clerk there says I could
tell you where the trailhead is but you'll never find it. Do you have a
guide? You need a guide. Go to Golden Rock. We yell at the
retreating taxi & he stops & tells us it'll cost us a little
more. At Golden Rock the helpful lady in charge of activities at the
resort gives us a map & tells us it's off the map, you'll never find
it. Do you have a guide? She tells the cabbie to take us to Peak
Heaven, but not all the way, stop at the little bar on the corner &
if there is anyone there who isn't too drunk by now (it's almost 11) get
them to show us the trailhead. By now the cabbie is getting tired of
us & just dropped us off at that little local bar & pointed up
the road. We follow the road up, up is good, & walk by Peak Heaven,
where Herbert is in the garden & we ask him. He says, "Do you have
a guide? You need a guide, the last guy who went alone was lost for 8
days in the rainforest, police & volunteers lookin' for him. Ya,
this is the trail" So we follow the dirt road that turns into a trail
in the forest, HOW HARD IS THAT?! It's full of ropes, which you need,
as it's mostly hand over hand vertical climbing. It's muddy &
slippery & there is only one trail but we put some markers down
anyway, as going down never looks like going up. It was a gas, & we
got very muddy. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyZvjLbroFOmjDdefkONp4OIORqFiDFg9e95lTxkibGIItoGZ4gZPOzv8jVkJVSOdz2_5cNz9fhfUjzjNMMb2iTItMA3ZFTXVEwvUELJfsC9zvJIJDmcqp_0rkKgTSTvxDTH47fvZK9cQ/s1600/DSC01420.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyZvjLbroFOmjDdefkONp4OIORqFiDFg9e95lTxkibGIItoGZ4gZPOzv8jVkJVSOdz2_5cNz9fhfUjzjNMMb2iTItMA3ZFTXVEwvUELJfsC9zvJIJDmcqp_0rkKgTSTvxDTH47fvZK9cQ/s640/DSC01420.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Starting up the trail</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgstSRNoFoje_eDMk92qM1TVWs_7r6x977p8rMNGphRCBR9QFKCv70jaWQk_j4uRckL5Zl9ImnRx67shE47oSdkwS4iNLklUS4w_m2Qifqi4ty9mrabUskm0xqQKkZ4N06hb6M-8XxBBvc/s1600/DSC01422.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgstSRNoFoje_eDMk92qM1TVWs_7r6x977p8rMNGphRCBR9QFKCv70jaWQk_j4uRckL5Zl9ImnRx67shE47oSdkwS4iNLklUS4w_m2Qifqi4ty9mrabUskm0xqQKkZ4N06hb6M-8XxBBvc/s640/DSC01422.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lots of big steps</td></tr>
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<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEVd54vvWW0iuj-mRA98i9T3ItADbBNH4tN0Q_ULetr3TH2r_gPILRok42RK2AdMYmVQXDpvSLeGxYTj-OVZjxSTHsT5ks6g6kOeXwxfMKZ74hJpDLazhflnWq7yRrj5o6aBndLu6o58w/s1600/DSC01435.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEVd54vvWW0iuj-mRA98i9T3ItADbBNH4tN0Q_ULetr3TH2r_gPILRok42RK2AdMYmVQXDpvSLeGxYTj-OVZjxSTHsT5ks6g6kOeXwxfMKZ74hJpDLazhflnWq7yRrj5o6aBndLu6o58w/s640/DSC01435.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Real steep & slippery</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A little crack</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Still relatively clean</td></tr>
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On the way down Herbert told us to visit the canteen, so we did, as it was 2:30 & we were starved. Serge finally got the burger he's been craving since Gran Canaria. Later we stopped at the bar at the dinghy dock (why is there always a bar at the dinghy dock?) & went online until well after dark! It's a long way upwind back to our boat with a 3 hp motor, especially when it craps out after 50 yards, right in front of the ferry leaving. Did I mention we didn't have a light? Serge starts paddling real hard & I'm waving at the ferry. Serge thought we ran out of gas, but he just filled it up, someone must have taken our dinghy for a ride. Serge keeps paddling real hard for another 5 mins. It's a long way upwind & we're not making much progress. Then a dinghy went by & I tried to hitch a ride. They didn't see us. Did I mention we didn't have a light? We didn't expect to come back so late, after so many drinks. Fortunately some locals must have seen our plight, & gave us a tow back. Back to...where is our boat? Did I mention we didn't have a light? We didn't recognize any of our neighbours. Is it that one? No, over there. Finally we found it, it didn't have a light. Next day Serge investigates the motor, to discover the shut off valve was closed. So no gas. If only we'd had a light, lolUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946511373317718333.post-27112334362748914302012-02-25T16:54:00.000-08:002012-02-25T16:54:19.935-08:00Pics from Martinique<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2f1DJabtOted8JFu8xgyo8hzW7wATBojVz0Mx5bH9n7mZgPE6e2WPGKejA9-fzKgjg8lINxIDqmn5xCfWSprVW9jaFoIXyuQvpK0F9IfCkfnsQUCEUhMo4ZY360c1ZVYXfOlWCo198xo/s1600/DSC01322.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2f1DJabtOted8JFu8xgyo8hzW7wATBojVz0Mx5bH9n7mZgPE6e2WPGKejA9-fzKgjg8lINxIDqmn5xCfWSprVW9jaFoIXyuQvpK0F9IfCkfnsQUCEUhMo4ZY360c1ZVYXfOlWCo198xo/s640/DSC01322.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rainbow over full moon</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sea Cloud</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivRV25QGmYsvRyQexsfrvyDp63ErKJe9-lWOkQ4dsWSzXufRpteePbiEEsIXM00TGtAr9qwKNALJI0FGscwBJzpvdY3c30_SP2rCY3jiU9V3grna2cUk7IdRSXavkOFaL_peMoQzoIDVA/s1600/DSC01380.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivRV25QGmYsvRyQexsfrvyDp63ErKJe9-lWOkQ4dsWSzXufRpteePbiEEsIXM00TGtAr9qwKNALJI0FGscwBJzpvdY3c30_SP2rCY3jiU9V3grna2cUk7IdRSXavkOFaL_peMoQzoIDVA/s640/DSC01380.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Star Clipper </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnZOvTW1s0CwVGzgm4YdJ2oO_DuhMUm5cDy6qNut5BMzApnGEc9UqVoRVEj737AWISizjIF67WJNOuiZdM_ViKRdkWMbQ1vcYwrJ8y664atyaIlO7FoLtKI5z66QRQYksN8NSxePd4p1A/s1600/DSC01401.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnZOvTW1s0CwVGzgm4YdJ2oO_DuhMUm5cDy6qNut5BMzApnGEc9UqVoRVEj737AWISizjIF67WJNOuiZdM_ViKRdkWMbQ1vcYwrJ8y664atyaIlO7FoLtKI5z66QRQYksN8NSxePd4p1A/s640/DSC01401.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Steam off volcano in Monserrat</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjNN3wuPxr2-PePeZwkV4OOI8OL3LBbvmeapCakEWMx7BlsIC6mysSpHcx_O_q8-fogMO582YaVnWrxVve-p9Mqfj9FEkGV1hKNoBPAuLndtlCrCnQmepUS8lfQ_a-HT1_mFIp3XNz0IE/s1600/DSC01410.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjNN3wuPxr2-PePeZwkV4OOI8OL3LBbvmeapCakEWMx7BlsIC6mysSpHcx_O_q8-fogMO582YaVnWrxVve-p9Mqfj9FEkGV1hKNoBPAuLndtlCrCnQmepUS8lfQ_a-HT1_mFIp3XNz0IE/s640/DSC01410.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Desolation of Jubilee Town</td></tr>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946511373317718333.post-72386961267531723032012-02-14T12:58:00.000-08:002012-02-25T16:32:03.954-08:00A week in Martinique flew by. April is filling up with visiting friends & relatives. We would like to do the race circuit & would like to have some paying guests for it. We thought we'd let people book by the cabin & by the night, instead of the whole boat. If anyone wants to know more, let me know. <br />
We spent a night an anchor in Dominica, there were 60 boats there! & no marina, only locals in dinghies coming by to sell you something. We saw 2 Star Clippers under full sail when we left in the morning. Got drenched on the way to Guadeloupe where we are now. Cute little town. Tomorrow we go to Monserrat, where the volcano blew when we lived in Puerto Rico, we got covered in grey dust then. Internet is very spotty & expensive. Going to haul out & bottom paint in St. Martin.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946511373317718333.post-75867215970411795252012-02-10T14:43:00.000-08:002012-02-10T14:43:17.910-08:00There's a reason it's called "the high seas"Left Tenerife at 9 am. Sunny & good wind that kept increasing to 35 knots the next day. We saw a ship on the horizon that would cross in front of us, until it turned & started to come straight for us, very strange. In fact it got really close & flashed it's lights at us & hailed us on the VHF radio. It had orders to change course & see if we were the white sailing vessel called "Mare" or something like that. There had been a MAYDAY on the radio for a white sailboat earlier, but no name given. <br />
By the 3rd day the waves had grown to 4-5 meters. Doesn't really sound very big, does it. But try staring down a mountain of foaming, rolling salt water coming up fast on your stern. The top speed we hit was 14.4 knots surfing on a wave. I started to feel nauseous & had to lie down. Eventually I threw up. Oh boy, it's started. I figured I may have 3 days of acclimating to the wave action. I WAS WRONG. I didn't feel any better on day 4, or day 5 or 6. But we had a couple of low wind days where we only did 130 miles & the sea flattened a bit & I didn't barf. I even managed to make lunch a couple of times. It's hard to recover from mal de mer at sea. When the wind & waves picked up again my digestion resumed lock down. Luckily Vincent offered to take my watch & Francois was a whiz in the kitchen. Vincent & Solene made a wonderful lunch & Francois cooked us a gourmet French meal every day. Sometimes I got to enjoy mine twice, lol. I learned to eat very slowly & was a familiar sight on deck w/my bucket.<br />
One morning I tell Solene, "Let's catch a fish today. Dorado." Later on Serge interrupts me squatting in the shower & after making the usual lascivious remarks tells me we caught a fish. My luck that the 2 highlights of the day, taking a shower & catching a fish, happened at the same time. <br />
Late one afternoon we're suddenly surrounded by dolphins. This time the waves are so high that they jump right out of them on their way to our boat. Some flipped on their side in the air. Flipper must have escaped from Marine World & given lessons because the show was as spectacular as I've ever seen. One dolphin shot straight up in the air about 3 meters & landed about 10 meters from the boat. Another time 4 simultaneously jumped clear out of a wave, again 10 meters away. This was a show for us, we were thrilled.<br />
Francois pointed out the jellyfish on the waves. It took a minute to see them. They send up a sail with a coloured line on the edge & coast along. Think inflated Pringles potatoe chip make of a Ziploc baggie.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPdkbfz0lYCCu0LfKkKziiV0cMFn_6IsxQyDEEbLnmN0KW27AlxXGlDiWGrYaDWUh9VTAs5a_vnmqriQBLTHxeoNoMx58xYliGU_3HVEZWMpiryMHok4C8hSUV6baorTQI5RJYqbC0hyphenhyphenA/s1600/DSC01283.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPdkbfz0lYCCu0LfKkKziiV0cMFn_6IsxQyDEEbLnmN0KW27AlxXGlDiWGrYaDWUh9VTAs5a_vnmqriQBLTHxeoNoMx58xYliGU_3HVEZWMpiryMHok4C8hSUV6baorTQI5RJYqbC0hyphenhyphenA/s640/DSC01283.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He was looking for somebody else</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We had a few of these</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaIpsM-dysn31q43K1bF9R_JMbcGgUhnTWwFPg1k8GFSSmrsvrhqwWll9nmCiqciv_aL_RPVIV0fZ934iAPfX7JK6kzeN2W0wS5qrikPR_6L2lKVJVXoMQjMzQ5Xngnntd5dnJL3pkLuI/s1600/DSC01293.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaIpsM-dysn31q43K1bF9R_JMbcGgUhnTWwFPg1k8GFSSmrsvrhqwWll9nmCiqciv_aL_RPVIV0fZ934iAPfX7JK6kzeN2W0wS5qrikPR_6L2lKVJVXoMQjMzQ5Xngnntd5dnJL3pkLuI/s640/DSC01293.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before she blew</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our 2nd dorado</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our merry crew, Vincent, Solene, me, Francois, Serge</td></tr>
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We hardly see any other vessels but twice we had ships on collision course. Serge hailed the first one, at night, he responded & changed course to cross behind. The 2nd was in broad daylight & it took awhile for them to respond & when he did he said he couldn't see us! We were 6 miles, 5 miles, 4 miles, waiting for this guy to see us, which he finally did at 3 miles. Then he changed course the wrong way, so we didn't argue & also changed course. He crossed in front of us about half a mile. The whole episode took 15 minutes. Can't afford to be sleeping on watch. In fact, Serge can't afford to sleep at all. He passes out on the couch once in awhile, but every little disturbance/change of course or wind wakes him up. I try to sleep in our bed, it's like hanging on to a bucking bronco.<br />
We flew the spinnaker twice & by late evening we decided to keep it all night. Francois & I were on deck & the wind puffed over 20 knots. We looked at each other. I said, "I'm starting to get scared." He said, "I've already been scared." I go down to tell Serge to come up & assess the spinnaker, Francois & I are scared; but he's deep in calculating the exact halfway point of our trip, coming up any minute now, & Vincent & Solene are serving dinner, so I start to help, when BANG!! an explosion up on deck & Solene screams. The spi is down. Serge & I look at each other & then rush up on deck. The spi & it's sock are being dragged in the water on the port side at about 10 knots. Looks like the halyard broke. Thank god the spinnaker is intact. We try to pick it up but it's a long process as the sock has filled up with water. Serge disconnected the sock from the spinnaker to bring them up separately. After much grunting effort we get it up on board & into the front hatch. Serge and Vincent got the sock out of the water and into the cockpit. So no more spinnaker flying for the 2nd half, which was supposed to take 8 more days. Each day the calculations are done for mileage done & mileage remaining...& time. We saw another sailboat & hailed it, they were also from Bretagne so our Bretagne crew had a long conversation on the radio. When I asked Serge if he included that event in his captain's log, he said, "No, it's too trivial" I looked at him & wondered, "Who is this man I'm married to?"<br />
We had a great crew, Solene is an animatrice, very animated, teaching kids photography, she took an average of 1 picture every 15 min. mostly of the sea. The rest of the trip is eventless, & I MEAN BORING, good wind & good seas. It was very exciting to finally see land, seemed we couldn't get closer fast enough. We landed in Le Marin in Martinique after 17 days & 8 hours. I'm not sure I want to do it again, lol<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946511373317718333.post-41841179025973898052012-02-06T16:01:00.000-08:002012-02-06T16:01:36.726-08:00Gran Adventure starts from Gran CanariaNOT!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Had to get around these guys at Las Palmas</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">& around this big guy</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marina San Miguel in Tenerife</td></tr>
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After much excitement & fanfare from our new crew's friends,
filling up MORE jerry cans w/fuel, & stowing everything away, we bid
adieu.<br />More than 20 knots of wind to see us off, we were hitting
8-10 knots, it was a good omen...for 15 minutes. Wind died & we
motored on in the ship channel, can't dawdle there. On my watch
(0200-0500) Francois handed over the helm, having had to make several
adjustments to it to avoid ships. We were following the blue line set by the
skipper on the iPad, everything A-OK. As we approach Tenerife I'm
seeing a lot of chatter in front of us on the radar, looks like we're
heading straight for shore. There's a BIG black headland sticking out
just in front of the airport runway bright lights, & what looks like
a ferry because it's also so brightly lit coming up behind me. It's
the 2nd one tonight. I'm wondering what the best course of action is to
avoid collision. It seems like the shore is getting closer, & the
chatter is still there, dead ahead, must be waves. The ferry is getting
closer on the other side. I go to the radar to mark the ship, to see
if it is indeed on collision course & press a button I think is
"Marks". The screen changes completely & an alarm goes off. oops. Serge is sleeping & I don't want to wake him up. I pace back &
forth, like that's going to help. Keep returning to the stupid radar & pressing buttons to get the picture back. I
decide to check the iPad & our course. It seems like we are
heading straight for shore because WE ARE HEADING STRAIGHT FOR SHORE! I
start to panic because changing course now could put us right in front
of the ferry. It's closing in on us fast (less than 3 nm) & now I'm
wondering if it will turn in front of us to go into port. NOW WHAT! Finally I change Otto's heading &
Serge comes up. "Why are we so close to shore?" he asks, "what's that alarm?"
It's been about 45 mins. since it started. I have some splaining to do. He asks me, "WHY DID YOU PRESS THE MAN OVERBOARD BUTTON?" Well, you'd think I'd just launched
nuclear weapons into the free world. It was marked MOB <i>above</i> the button. I didn't
have my glasses on, it was dark. In truth, if there is a button to press, I
will press it, it's a good thing I'm not in charge of nuclear weapons.
He frets & asks me exactly what I've pressed, as trying to correct
it involved a lot of button pressing too. He tells me, "The manual is 3
in. thick, what am I supposed to do now?" At any rate, the ferry didn't
pass in front of us, & there is still no wind, so we decided to
ditch the crossing & pull into port. "What a bunch of pussies" I think, we didn't even go 24 hrs. yet.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946511373317718333.post-49565320726623646822012-01-13T15:47:00.000-08:002012-01-13T15:47:34.121-08:00Rabat to Canaries<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moonrise</td></tr>
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Exiting the Rabat marina was not as fretful as I expected. After being re sniffed by the dogs de douane we were OK to go. Ocean swell not too bad, but once again, no wind so we motored. Swell. Days turn into nights turn into days into nights. You get up & go when it's your turn to watch. The big events are: sunset, full moonrise, moon set, sunrise, & the occasional turtle floating by like an animated pancake. We had 2 big events in one day, I had to go lie down after all the excitement. Francois spots a couple of dolphins, then Serge & I see groups of 2 & 3 & before you know it, they are converging on the boat from all directions. There must have been 20 or more of all sizes swimming with us at the bow. We slowed down so they would stay longer. Then, a little later, WE CATCH A FISH! I heard the whizzing of the line on my afternoon watch so I called the boys up to take care of it, something I'm getting increasingly good at doing, according to Serge. We had a baby tuna, all shiny & bright blue stripes, about 2 kilos. It made a very nice sushi, with the rest for dinner. <br />
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Skyping with the fam & telling this story elicits the comment, HOW EXCITING! How exciting indeed, you have no idea. Actually, it gets a little exciting as we approach Gran Canaria in the night and the wind picks up so we get to sail for about 12 hours. Radar shows ships dead ahead but I can't distinguish anything against the lights of shore until they get quite close. Then we start to get 30 knot wind gusts & we are really barrelling along. Seas were very confused as we got closer, waves refracting off of the cliffs and giving poor Otto the pilot 30 degree shifts to react to, so Serge took over, cursing all the while. Neptune should really get his act together. Las Palmas is a really big port, lots of action all the time, even off season. As usual, the marinaro helping us into our slip is a total moron. How do they manage to find so many? Wind blowing across the bow at 15 knots with 1 boat length to maneuver. Serge took a second approach that was going to be perfect except for marinmoron in his Zodiac who thinks he should push the bow the SAME WAY the wind was blowing, and against the bow thruster. So we ended up diagonally in a very narrow slip, scraping on the neighbours. Serge was very upset. He prides himself (rightfully) on parking his boat with lunar landing precision. He was going to have a perfect performance in front of the gathering audience. Instead we look like real morons. No damage done, except to the skipper's ego.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grumpy just for fun</td></tr>
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We'll look for one more crew here. Easier said than done. There is a knock at our transom almost as soon as we dock. Matteo the musician who has no experience but is a fast learner & plays healing, relaxing music on his guitar. Ooookaaayyy. Some other space cadet in really grubby pants wants a ride too. A tribe of rasta type youths who look like they are living on the beach are all looking for passage. We actually interview a couple of them, young Swiss men one of which has a huge mass of dreadlocks tied up behind his head & a wooden hole in his earlobe. He's really cute, except for having 2 heads. His friend with really long toenails wants a certified 1000 mile passage to get his captain's license, his longest passage is 14 hours, he eats mostly rice & sprouts, smokes cigarettes, & drinks a little wine occasionally (riiiiight) He ends up REJECTING US!! Seems he doesn't want to spend 2 weeks with us old farts. Hmpht. Then a young woman who wants to go to Brazil passes on our offer too. I'm beginning to get a complex. Finally a nice couple from Brittany, like Francois, is moving in tomorrow. We're casting off for Martinique around noon. Should be there in about 2 weeks. If this turns out to be my last post, in lieu of flowers send money to our favourite charity, our KIDS!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946511373317718333.post-71467635563035898902012-01-05T14:38:00.000-08:002012-01-05T14:38:15.483-08:00THE EAGLE HAS LANDED<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-L9uAmx5RI2o/TwYTLhmYiJI/AAAAAAAAA1g/OTny20SNoPE/s1600/DSC01183.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-L9uAmx5RI2o/TwYTLhmYiJI/AAAAAAAAA1g/OTny20SNoPE/s640/DSC01183.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ficus in Cartagena</td></tr>
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We would have gone straight to Rabat but we had to stop for oil. OH, THAT'S what that flashing red light was all about. While I was sleeping they decided to stop for the night. All the big ships we were passing seemed a little strange, they usually pass us. There was a big oil rig coming through the Straits of Gibraltar, & all marine traffic was being halted. They could've TOLD us. There is a small fishing port called La Linea, just North of Gibraltar, so they anchored there for the night, while I get to listen to the bow thruster & anchor winch grinding right next to my head.<br />
Next day we encounter very strong local winds & some lively dolphins.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This "fin" at the bottom is the tip of our anchor</td></tr>
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Watch the video of them here:<br />
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We celebrated New Year's eve with a cockpit dinner & bubbly. Still motoring, I noticed that our motoring light was out. I encountered at least 17 fishing boats at once, even more if you count the unlit ones you can only see on the radar. On Serge's watch we almost collided with a *#^ ? ROWBOAT, instead of navigation lights, he figured standing up & waving would do. At daylight we called the marina & they sent out a dinghy to guide us in. Most harbours have breakwaters parallel with the waves, Rabat has a funnel shaped entrance to accelerate the waves in. At one point we had to throttle back to avoid surfing on top of the dinghy. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our slave master</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gibraltar</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Sq2hfjE6FSg/TwYdgUEchhI/AAAAAAAAA24/kw19tkSZVQA/s1600/DSC01210.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Sq2hfjE6FSg/TwYdgUEchhI/AAAAAAAAA24/kw19tkSZVQA/s640/DSC01210.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lighthouse at Gibraltar</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3xKtpg5eOyk/TwYeAmP8r0I/AAAAAAAAA3A/gF4bdZDQh_Y/s1600/DSC01212.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3xKtpg5eOyk/TwYeAmP8r0I/AAAAAAAAA3A/gF4bdZDQh_Y/s640/DSC01212.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mosque guarding Gibraltar</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_7knCbBxDpc/TwYeFWb448I/AAAAAAAAA3I/sYBsGzItdMk/s1600/DSC01220.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_7knCbBxDpc/TwYeFWb448I/AAAAAAAAA3I/sYBsGzItdMk/s640/DSC01220.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of those cute little fishing boats in daylight</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WCMAV_Yxfso/TwYeKNPY1VI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/cgYCAsGzllw/s1600/DSC01222.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WCMAV_Yxfso/TwYeKNPY1VI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/cgYCAsGzllw/s640/DSC01222.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1st perpendicular breakwater</td></tr>
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<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J8yNXks8P84/TwYeOzXkjfI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/G4FyDr2PZpM/s1600/DSC01223.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J8yNXks8P84/TwYeOzXkjfI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/G4FyDr2PZpM/s640/DSC01223.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Port side hazard</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QsvCzTtwXZY/TwYeeGN52PI/AAAAAAAAA3g/IpMkvBUkIQQ/s1600/DSC01224.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QsvCzTtwXZY/TwYeeGN52PI/AAAAAAAAA3g/IpMkvBUkIQQ/s640/DSC01224.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Starboard hazard</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ijajT8t4zjs/TwYhigwuZNI/AAAAAAAAA3s/ByZ7q09Y5Ok/s1600/DSC01226.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ijajT8t4zjs/TwYhigwuZNI/AAAAAAAAA3s/ByZ7q09Y5Ok/s640/DSC01226.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">PAY ATTENTION!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AKLxarBUJ7E/TwYhns_gwYI/AAAAAAAAA30/m02g_couW9E/s1600/DSC01229.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AKLxarBUJ7E/TwYhns_gwYI/AAAAAAAAA30/m02g_couW9E/s640/DSC01229.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here it comes</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eTVGV_2qMvY/TwYhtLe2D4I/AAAAAAAAA38/rBfdlIoaXUo/s1600/DSC01230.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eTVGV_2qMvY/TwYhtLe2D4I/AAAAAAAAA38/rBfdlIoaXUo/s640/DSC01230.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He'll never know what hit him</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gkXxrp8mNCk/TwYiVDV7SzI/AAAAAAAAA4E/3pjsn9R9vgM/s1600/DSC01233.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gkXxrp8mNCk/TwYiVDV7SzI/AAAAAAAAA4E/3pjsn9R9vgM/s640/DSC01233.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sentry post</td></tr>
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We had to wait for the police, then customs, then immigration to clear us in on New Years Day. The black lab sniffer dog is more interested in my garbage, my parts & the leg of cured Spanish ham we have hanging in back. We can't believe that we're starting 2012 back in Morocco. I know this adventure is supposed to end here, but if anyone is still reading this, let me know if you want to hear about the trip to the Canaries & beyond. Right now we are waiting until they open the harbour again, the waves are too big to get in or out. Maybe that's how the old pirate ships captured their prey, you can surf in, but you can't get out. HELP, WE'RE BEING HOSTAGE IN RABAT!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946511373317718333.post-76601102719973291192012-01-03T12:08:00.000-08:002012-01-03T12:08:46.227-08:00STUFF THE MED!Another day of motoring, rolling & flogging. And it's cold, too cold for lunch in the cockpit. It'd be more fun to scrape my arse with a brick. I want my money back.<br />
Lightening flashes on the horizon regularly off our stern and near port we get a few sprinkles of rain. I notice a boat behind us only because of the reflection of their stern light on the water. OMG! THEY'RE FOLLOWING US! I guess they don't have enough evidence to board us. Not 10 min. before we would be securely tied up it starts to pour down rain. The marinero puts us right against the boardwalk, behind the tourist catamaran. We become part of the tourist attractions. While filling up the marina forms Serge sees a picture of a boat that looks just like ours. It was stolen from Rome in the middle of Dec. Maybe that's why we got all that attention. Or maybe it was just my blonde hair. Oh, that's right, my hair isn't blonde anymore. We catch a Flamenco concert in Cartagena, a couple of singers & guitarists, all male. Quite remarkable, unlike anything I've heard before.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UPESa2vv_ik/TwNWbGMQF9I/AAAAAAAAA0c/BjPDUXzA8uo/s1600/DSC01147.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UPESa2vv_ik/TwNWbGMQF9I/AAAAAAAAA0c/BjPDUXzA8uo/s640/DSC01147.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Latest tourist attraction</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZtGE84nXJFE/TwNd-bDQO_I/AAAAAAAAA1M/4u8dZH0A3KY/s1600/DSC01145.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZtGE84nXJFE/TwNd-bDQO_I/AAAAAAAAA1M/4u8dZH0A3KY/s640/DSC01145.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leaving Calpe</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UKrFyXlrz3w/TwNfCiZCKiI/AAAAAAAAA1U/Hv70-M6AlIg/s1600/DSC01158.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UKrFyXlrz3w/TwNfCiZCKiI/AAAAAAAAA1U/Hv70-M6AlIg/s640/DSC01158.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This must have been the old post office</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD8NZWDTHcGrj3JAcgLgbFACV2v82w7atNoh2vk7A3ECt54IFFiCnzbwQgNcQSGTio9s6VyxVykNAWyVz-pLubltPWb6lD_QafwqxOHHcieuQrnpegGsNpWbr1etGw44xs_eVp8_CYxo8/s1600/DSC01155.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD8NZWDTHcGrj3JAcgLgbFACV2v82w7atNoh2vk7A3ECt54IFFiCnzbwQgNcQSGTio9s6VyxVykNAWyVz-pLubltPWb6lD_QafwqxOHHcieuQrnpegGsNpWbr1etGw44xs_eVp8_CYxo8/s640/DSC01155.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Main street</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVBI7E7xAgqLFvxEpQ_oD1k_0Fj2-1ExswITqWGu84uNn6cBQ5Y2QdEXyGe2AIiIy2zRHJ-CBjso-OwxSS8Zs2N9EoTSyKEQ0nJt1kjgC4O2pOid-FbE6fTjeERnDPxmKC13uzFF0Ta4Y/s1600/DSC01171.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVBI7E7xAgqLFvxEpQ_oD1k_0Fj2-1ExswITqWGu84uNn6cBQ5Y2QdEXyGe2AIiIy2zRHJ-CBjso-OwxSS8Zs2N9EoTSyKEQ0nJt1kjgC4O2pOid-FbE6fTjeERnDPxmKC13uzFF0Ta4Y/s640/DSC01171.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, they are big.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHKd4-G2BNAqN2yJiE3V4R7vHDrB4tJUmQZs5y6f6z1Fpbo0krfqnbQuV9U7kCnj2Z4Yyze4zwf2_LpexVnlpI1KPl1MAGzs85r0VpEqioz-t8hMWqNeoSwqacSMtVPtapPs7xQH_qhL4/s1600/DSC01180.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHKd4-G2BNAqN2yJiE3V4R7vHDrB4tJUmQZs5y6f6z1Fpbo0krfqnbQuV9U7kCnj2Z4Yyze4zwf2_LpexVnlpI1KPl1MAGzs85r0VpEqioz-t8hMWqNeoSwqacSMtVPtapPs7xQH_qhL4/s640/DSC01180.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roman amphitheatre</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We decide to go straight to Rabat from here, about 3 days. Francois drama takes interesting twists & turns circling the globe with messages between owner, captain & family members all the way to New Zealand. My watch is 2am to 5am. The phosphorescent algae glows green here & shows up on the edges of our wake like a dashed line. I see a green glow on the horizon, with nothing else, no other lights to distinguish a boat. It comes closer & I actually get scared. I'm all alone in the dark in the middle of the ocean and a mysterious green glow is stalking me. We end up passing each other. When I get to the part of the water that it just came from the algae is extremely active, showing up like a green neon tube at the leading edge of every wave. On Serge's watch later, he noticed bright trails on each side of the boat, & saw they were being made by dolphins following us.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946511373317718333.post-46048758138218125832011-12-28T10:09:00.000-08:002011-12-28T10:09:16.323-08:00New crewMade some new friends on a maxi yacht (82 ft) that was in for repairs in the small marina in Calpe. It is a gorgeous new yacht on an old design, a 1 of. We had a great spontaneous Christmas eve dinner, this was more like the company I had in mind. There were 4 guys delivering this yacht to Martinique, but they hit a log & had to repair the prop, a 20,000 euro repair! Seems they are volunteer for the crossing doing it for the all expenses paid vacation. Two younger guys & an accomplished sculptor (the mechanical engineer on board) & an older French sailor who is a pillar of sailing history. Serge was more excited than a dog with 2 dicks. Needless to say we went into the night. They also have a paid captain & his mate but they weren't there. They came aboard for dinner on our last night & the sculptor had a clash with the skipper so he was jumping ship, did we need crew? Wow. Sure, so he is with us now, & depending on how this drama plays out, perhaps all the way to the Caribbean. Be sure to check his website out, www.hameury.com it's well worth it, & some of the stories that go with the sculptures are really good too! He also compiled the physics curriculum for Algerian high schools & made a solar oven for Nigeria.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia-Rr6MNCrpAGXimPJZ_T5iVdgEafGBmEUC1mt9UMJjyaVNN81_PeWJTakcFxyTrT7I_l6sbpMY_K_OsPBrYczn1oMel2uX3GVivMmNhzjtoZXxxNm9pb65BL0r17SSiuqQd_rdAeFis8/s1600/DSC01089.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia-Rr6MNCrpAGXimPJZ_T5iVdgEafGBmEUC1mt9UMJjyaVNN81_PeWJTakcFxyTrT7I_l6sbpMY_K_OsPBrYczn1oMel2uX3GVivMmNhzjtoZXxxNm9pb65BL0r17SSiuqQd_rdAeFis8/s640/DSC01089.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My friend who's been following me for awhile now.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUBxS6w2uIXdabCclDtTwlXO1EJ2c9blPcdMM0qirKwCo8yb780EOg4p5JpkKGGmWhFsCMy7p9f8zn0jcSC4zq4Bt7GQvFRhc81SdNgpAWXzT0AHPaWCdijycMh_-w1jIPbqwFVxynuW4/s1600/DSC01098.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUBxS6w2uIXdabCclDtTwlXO1EJ2c9blPcdMM0qirKwCo8yb780EOg4p5JpkKGGmWhFsCMy7p9f8zn0jcSC4zq4Bt7GQvFRhc81SdNgpAWXzT0AHPaWCdijycMh_-w1jIPbqwFVxynuW4/s640/DSC01098.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Calpe rock on arrival</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwNTZ21shvdOQlbZY5FOXI2eflSUjvJM4Flmy2SGUg1ZuQok3z-Dprp95j6WscM-EGC9q2NYWhHB-LN-iWg2WQBmDx-FFk2lx0pbqcIa1MIB2G5HTZAhTQ3j66wCp4YlVtWdwnl8_8Eak/s1600/DSC01100.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwNTZ21shvdOQlbZY5FOXI2eflSUjvJM4Flmy2SGUg1ZuQok3z-Dprp95j6WscM-EGC9q2NYWhHB-LN-iWg2WQBmDx-FFk2lx0pbqcIa1MIB2G5HTZAhTQ3j66wCp4YlVtWdwnl8_8Eak/s640/DSC01100.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My new job?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Z_zdsZXl47ePMMabWY5ikvrTwXck9L8sOsf9XpojXgmdX4hyB6xyn0GkfTsrVJ1dwpIX8cuMRxtdcHFY3QdTQlv1H3RNzNtnPNf2ytX03aCuaz_E82FaMUMDU6NHGUkkrW-XpDGKnms/s1600/DSC01101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Z_zdsZXl47ePMMabWY5ikvrTwXck9L8sOsf9XpojXgmdX4hyB6xyn0GkfTsrVJ1dwpIX8cuMRxtdcHFY3QdTQlv1H3RNzNtnPNf2ytX03aCuaz_E82FaMUMDU6NHGUkkrW-XpDGKnms/s640/DSC01101.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me & 4 guys</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpXVWIU_KNeaxPSHVf53BJ5i759nIw8cgZ4BmPg_h97ZR03r4S4xix8FqHcoDzg1F_YeN2WjEC4HBgpUNApqrN8jE5XhziwcBPgd6AexzmAiMMgTJTLwra3H1tErDs_oQMm-8a0y0vua4/s1600/DSC01105.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpXVWIU_KNeaxPSHVf53BJ5i759nIw8cgZ4BmPg_h97ZR03r4S4xix8FqHcoDzg1F_YeN2WjEC4HBgpUNApqrN8jE5XhziwcBPgd6AexzmAiMMgTJTLwra3H1tErDs_oQMm-8a0y0vua4/s640/DSC01105.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The mahogany companionway</td></tr>
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<br />
We climbed the 1000 ft. rock beside the marina on Christmas day, it was great. Here are some pics<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieCGGVBXal6NKpNV0NOEqPhE4O6Ub38xlCYrH2Y5iqtPJPacpXDNMZaUqv8eDXDTKJulVna9eY68JIJMl9JDYdE3QGIZ6EYzqXFGF8BC9AC_Ty0O0Fyu_Bbp_jSK4-hxXyGzSAMufR0M0/s1600/DSC01111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieCGGVBXal6NKpNV0NOEqPhE4O6Ub38xlCYrH2Y5iqtPJPacpXDNMZaUqv8eDXDTKJulVna9eY68JIJMl9JDYdE3QGIZ6EYzqXFGF8BC9AC_Ty0O0Fyu_Bbp_jSK4-hxXyGzSAMufR0M0/s640/DSC01111.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the top w/Italian climber in foreground</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNwuQa7BGNfJt-wBd1A0Wkbpke1ytv3GAP0V-m8-RZk-sm993gFJ9blv6BN91AvAiE3YMY9nDXl_lr9JYa5Yr1spaIvV03Oy5noG-2NSxdXFpHQpv5q9Xt8rSz0yo3BecQG5Za4q5TMoQ/s1600/DSC01115.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNwuQa7BGNfJt-wBd1A0Wkbpke1ytv3GAP0V-m8-RZk-sm993gFJ9blv6BN91AvAiE3YMY9nDXl_lr9JYa5Yr1spaIvV03Oy5noG-2NSxdXFpHQpv5q9Xt8rSz0yo3BecQG5Za4q5TMoQ/s640/DSC01115.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Calpe from the top</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeJwe_MqtbtEYKeKA2jdzdDpoF-2jsYCu80u8cGp7Pm-ij4RjrhAWAh1fhGqmaHdotHrXxpHA6UhuQaVE_NjAo6vp1AxEuPAcjmd7PiZxkulA9WPVEpcFtMB0ANfCmppCoNjMhku5jOJ8/s1600/DSC01137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeJwe_MqtbtEYKeKA2jdzdDpoF-2jsYCu80u8cGp7Pm-ij4RjrhAWAh1fhGqmaHdotHrXxpHA6UhuQaVE_NjAo6vp1AxEuPAcjmd7PiZxkulA9WPVEpcFtMB0ANfCmppCoNjMhku5jOJ8/s640/DSC01137.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The rock from Calpe (Ifach)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAoZFzFsOIOATqIvhYGmTiAmr5Mj9FWOruFJ9B8DhG9YWXOhCB0YOPXcL9FjJccKxDfbAVtHPRYLVL2CalnLf6jU_Objq3lIMwQR6vq7u86b4U35_LXa1UMT0Fzu9ccuyZ1tXM903387k/s1600/DSC01125.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAoZFzFsOIOATqIvhYGmTiAmr5Mj9FWOruFJ9B8DhG9YWXOhCB0YOPXcL9FjJccKxDfbAVtHPRYLVL2CalnLf6jU_Objq3lIMwQR6vq7u86b4U35_LXa1UMT0Fzu9ccuyZ1tXM903387k/s640/DSC01125.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tunnel through the mountain</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnlhr__hJ1mGf3TLyWjfvBcLq7n14eAv4AHPjch4fzojgAT9JyHy4CU8y6xgf7zOmk0X9VnjKiL9VWTDqDJfLkp7MSjK_TmXZjKGaapkUxch_gyfy_g6cLyFEL9MPCFQp8Knk1pk-FXwo/s1600/DSC01109.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnlhr__hJ1mGf3TLyWjfvBcLq7n14eAv4AHPjch4fzojgAT9JyHy4CU8y6xgf7zOmk0X9VnjKiL9VWTDqDJfLkp7MSjK_TmXZjKGaapkUxch_gyfy_g6cLyFEL9MPCFQp8Knk1pk-FXwo/s640/DSC01109.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The mega yacht</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946511373317718333.post-84142580673296882392011-12-26T02:22:00.000-08:002011-12-26T10:16:45.694-08:00Uninvited guests!<div style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPLUf0JjGnYmqsQD3Lymw_sSPsdaarn1L4ZXDtdZdbPKwyJI_cuCd2O-CKzVww5VyxlRfTJGo3Fb0jBh4S3W1WpRO0t4nmXAMVkjA1aCMG1mKngIiPL6G5z4QDFcAq_yf5-4PQGasjjwU/s1600/DSC01057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPLUf0JjGnYmqsQD3Lymw_sSPsdaarn1L4ZXDtdZdbPKwyJI_cuCd2O-CKzVww5VyxlRfTJGo3Fb0jBh4S3W1WpRO0t4nmXAMVkjA1aCMG1mKngIiPL6G5z4QDFcAq_yf5-4PQGasjjwU/s640/DSC01057.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
STEP AWAY from the edge! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsYeD3nn7R5Qhp5dIOtC81-rSlwxVpnZfV8AqDKrP2n6N_9CCcyicD-2qGJu3ugHKe7bdaBdhkMk6Ch85RrGk8OH6D_kBrBO0SZNJjdcIbwCTBxk45gWPrmSJfFSYscZtc6_u-Do1ZEJs/s1600/DSC01063.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsYeD3nn7R5Qhp5dIOtC81-rSlwxVpnZfV8AqDKrP2n6N_9CCcyicD-2qGJu3ugHKe7bdaBdhkMk6Ch85RrGk8OH6D_kBrBO0SZNJjdcIbwCTBxk45gWPrmSJfFSYscZtc6_u-Do1ZEJs/s640/DSC01063.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
First Mate! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPMH6Pn9H9AjJYZvZoUIHrIi2JOJqQO8o-xk80NC1mcf15zDzXJp9xgdJvIV70J8Nzkcc9GB-TgUIr-XKZAejkafPfJpIYhBd31TUEFWIW9m1UB-3fmP2LbPJpb27eOz177Z9I_J6KFUs/s1600/DSC01069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPMH6Pn9H9AjJYZvZoUIHrIi2JOJqQO8o-xk80NC1mcf15zDzXJp9xgdJvIV70J8Nzkcc9GB-TgUIr-XKZAejkafPfJpIYhBd31TUEFWIW9m1UB-3fmP2LbPJpb27eOz177Z9I_J6KFUs/s640/DSC01069.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Islote Vedra off Ibiza</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDDAjc5QLPV5lNUH4XunxHk9AHAnoFIftKgUoh6cqDdIBM6JrMb9aXmO9kQB5mmr_hD_J8Gx1ewbxedCktn36OhnKD8XlTvxmWzDd42vj1tmuOIosKdCLO2Y4cNae9FYnR_XILHTsz-8I/s1600/DSC01083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDDAjc5QLPV5lNUH4XunxHk9AHAnoFIftKgUoh6cqDdIBM6JrMb9aXmO9kQB5mmr_hD_J8Gx1ewbxedCktn36OhnKD8XlTvxmWzDd42vj1tmuOIosKdCLO2Y4cNae9FYnR_XILHTsz-8I/s640/DSC01083.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Can you find the light beacon and stairs?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii-36ha4vQrUNvNhP-I8aEQu3Seq1tgb3BGGYtCSYoOw55aoIdOOwIUylcIiWhiQFv08KinuYqeloLUhggBFSupWwuKtsLcLedGRZeDhIH42gVjXGckofvA67xvgUPuHWJkGpUTvY44U4/s1600/DSC01094.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii-36ha4vQrUNvNhP-I8aEQu3Seq1tgb3BGGYtCSYoOw55aoIdOOwIUylcIiWhiQFv08KinuYqeloLUhggBFSupWwuKtsLcLedGRZeDhIH42gVjXGckofvA67xvgUPuHWJkGpUTvY44U4/s640/DSC01094.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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We let this one go first and the far one too</div>
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As our anchorage is too exposed we seek out the nearest marina, on the island of Formentera an hour away. It's dark when we arrive, and shallow, less than 4 meters, so the depth alarm goes off of course. When we spot a suitable berth the depth goes to 2.7 meters, we need 2.3. Luckily it doesn't get any shallower. After securing the lines we look for the electrical outlet which is again too big for our plug, so Serge goes in search of the marina personnel but finds the office closed. An hour and a half early, according to the hours posted. Opens tomorrow at 9. OK, so we go exploring the little town. Serge complains about how tired he is all the time, I reply, "It's the
stress of retirement dear, it's probably going to kill you. "Most everything is closed except the big ferry terminal, and a grow shop. Seriously. There is a young couple inside with a little kid running around. How cute, a little family marijuana growing business.<br />
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The local hotel has wifi, sort of, sometimes. You have to wait for it and catch it. So we wait quietly, stalking the elusive Spanish wifi. No luck. We call it a night and figure we'll go to the little anchorage tomorrow morning, before 9, conveniently before the office opens. We slip out at 8 am the next day, we're getting pretty good at giving the marinas the slip, pun intended.<br />
The water at the anchorage is very clear, but I keep seeing white things everywhere and wonder what they are. Turns out to be garbage, mostly fast food containers, cans, etc. Our first mosquito flies into the boat, it's a big bomber. The little lake is fetid and smelly, brownish with tannins, no way I'm gonna rub that clay all over me. Serge is relieved. We relax on the beach for the afternoon, I don't know if it's a nude beach, but it is now. Ahhh, this is what cruising is supposed to be about.<br />
After dinner we were lamenting our solitude and wishing for company when I see a bright flash of light through the porthole over Serge's shoulder. In another adrenaline rush we clamber topside to vaguely make out the silhouette of a big black GUN BOAT with a flashing blue light on top and a searchlight trained on us! I smile weakly and wave. The power of their engines and the sound of the water they displace is threatening, to say the least. They come to our starboard side, then back up and go to port, then back up again to starboard, and back to port. We're galloping from side to side trying to figure out what they want us to do. Serge turns all the lights on, he tells me to go get the ship's flag. OK, done. Turn on the radio and give him the hand held VHF. Roger that. My heart is pounding in my ears when we notice they're putting bumpers out. THEY ARE GOING TO BOARD US! OMG!! OUR CRIMINAL PAST HAS CAUGHT UP WITH US! They are not very forthcoming with their intentions and only talk to us when they are about 2 meters away and it's obvious they are coming aboard. No permission asked. They did say it was just a routine inspection, but that hardly soothes me. I'm thinking, "Are all our papers in order? Did we really check in to the EU from Croatia properly?" I know we were just wishing for company but this is not what I had in mind. Two guys in black from head to toe wearing helmets, billy clubs, jack boots, the works. They were from customs and were totally stealth, no nav lights, no radio contact, nada. They were joking a bit with Serge but I was so nervous I started doing the dishes. I spied the stolen salt right in front of them on the table. Would it be too obvious to grab it and put it under my shirt? I asked if I could take pictures and they said no, so I nonchalantly went over and picked up the iPad and thought I was snapping some pics of their backs but in my nervousness was pressing the wrong button. Crap. They gave us a copy of the form they were filling out and said if we ran into customs again we could show that. Great, a get out of jail free card, we may need it. Did not get much sleep after that one, but left the next morning anyway for the coast of Spain.....<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIrolp-rX6zOKp1emzJi_FRLblIZJVrcHwCWH0jzt4Am_YBunbFdKn_aQwkXToqexrX4Df08i5ib84_f3zMmtvgHFElcvqJyNDyTaXK0bWB0uFEI1RZ7tbRZ7y8bjfMcabfDCtrUgYkCU/s1600/DSC01053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIrolp-rX6zOKp1emzJi_FRLblIZJVrcHwCWH0jzt4Am_YBunbFdKn_aQwkXToqexrX4Df08i5ib84_f3zMmtvgHFElcvqJyNDyTaXK0bWB0uFEI1RZ7tbRZ7y8bjfMcabfDCtrUgYkCU/s640/DSC01053.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our best sunset yet</td></tr>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946511373317718333.post-82579119145859889112011-12-25T02:33:00.000-08:002011-12-25T03:23:19.311-08:00Pictures around Ibiza<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eNua0YT00GY/Tvb_5kLiYxI/AAAAAAAAAxU/rdDgVE1qh8I/s1600/DSC01033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eNua0YT00GY/Tvb_5kLiYxI/AAAAAAAAAxU/rdDgVE1qh8I/s640/DSC01033.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cwazy wakeboarders</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JypOH_pcW6I/TvcDuzUoU8I/AAAAAAAAAxg/gidbZrH-ybQ/s1600/DSC01035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JypOH_pcW6I/TvcDuzUoU8I/AAAAAAAAAxg/gidbZrH-ybQ/s640/DSC01035.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At anchor at sunset</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oYQLSGLoJNI/TvcEba2sNxI/AAAAAAAAAxo/Me-d3pGEvxw/s1600/DSC01044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oYQLSGLoJNI/TvcEba2sNxI/AAAAAAAAAxo/Me-d3pGEvxw/s640/DSC01044.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Serge managed to squeeze into this berth, never touching</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VHhLz8wYuDU/TvcEwuS-GXI/AAAAAAAAAxw/fLKCzA5oOCA/s1600/DSC01049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VHhLz8wYuDU/TvcEwuS-GXI/AAAAAAAAAxw/fLKCzA5oOCA/s640/DSC01049.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Note dregs of party off the cliff</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PF_9VsLtW4E/TvcFLPLBtfI/AAAAAAAAAx4/Wo8DsC5gCZc/s1600/DSC01047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PF_9VsLtW4E/TvcFLPLBtfI/AAAAAAAAAx4/Wo8DsC5gCZc/s640/DSC01047.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Medieval drawbridge entrance to Dalt Vila</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jIMxZEfVl3Y/TvcFbuOLBwI/AAAAAAAAAyA/wwfyZzUBbdI/s1600/DSC01050.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jIMxZEfVl3Y/TvcFbuOLBwI/AAAAAAAAAyA/wwfyZzUBbdI/s640/DSC01050.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ibiza in a nutshell</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NVI0UpaYxcM/TvcFxUFOI_I/AAAAAAAAAyI/w1MFsIotw5g/s1600/DSC01045.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NVI0UpaYxcM/TvcFxUFOI_I/AAAAAAAAAyI/w1MFsIotw5g/s640/DSC01045.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pruned trees around Ibiza marina</td></tr>
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Our first choice for an overnight anchorage was the Playa Salinas, as I had read about the famous Ibiza salt & I wanted some because I thought it would make some nice gifts. We eshew mounting the dinghy engine & paddle ashore, I'm trying to ease the strain on "the hand". There is a salt factory running it's conveyer belt & I envisage a factory outlet store to get my salt! HA! No such thing. Only an unused roadway with a fence & a no trespassing sign hanging by one nail. They don't seem to be very concerned about it. So we trudge up the road towards the factory & see a couple of trucks full of salt driving by. There is another, more imposing fence & warning, so we stop there & Serge climbs up a short wall to look over the barb wire. He sees a vast mountain of salt, & says, "here, catch this with both hands." I see his fist full of salt come gingerly back through the barb wire & offer up my palms together. Hmm. This may not make such good gifts after all. I was thinking more fancy bottles with ribbons & corks. He climbs down & we both stare at the beautiful crystalline white stuff. Maybe not such a good idea on the boat & how are we going to get it back anyway? Serge makes a pouch in his sweater & says, "put it here". What that man won't do for me. As we're walking back I imagine the headlines, "MAN ARRESTED FOR TRESPASSING & STEALING, SAYS WIFE MADE HIM DO IT" When we get back to the dinghy, we realize we need a new salt cellar so we debate the merits of my various coat pockets vs. Serge's hat & decide on the hood of my jacket. Anyone who has heard us debate knows how that goes. And anyone who has ever rowed a dinghy through the surf knows what happens next. I push off in my bare feet holding my shoes while Serge tries to row. Only the wave recedes & we're grounded. I push harder into the next wave & we're off, albeit, I'm a little wet. That's nothing compared to what was coming. I climb into the front of the dinghy & the next wave carries me up & splashes into the boat a little but the next 3 waves were real rollers & my weight in front drives the bow right into them. By now I'm squealing & convulsing with laughter while buckets of sea water have soaked my back & are sloshing around in the dinghy. I scream again & urge Serge to "ROW, ROW" He's cursing & doing his "grumpy just for fun" thing. (I should mention at this point that I am weaning him off coffee & he has a headache 24/7) I am useless as I am still laughing at what a couple of idiots we are. At least the handful of salt survived, you don't need to know what Serge thinks it's worth. Tomorrow we go to a little lake to get clay! Yay!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946511373317718333.post-91956008516314810042011-12-25T02:18:00.000-08:002011-12-25T02:18:53.523-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some arty Palma cathedral pics for Christmas!</td></tr>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946511373317718333.post-70441788467218148142011-12-25T02:10:00.000-08:002011-12-25T02:10:02.163-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Voila! The video. Note certain Cynthia special sound effects & remember, if yer not burpin', yer barfin'Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946511373317718333.post-24707238279638521272011-12-23T08:18:00.001-08:002011-12-23T08:18:53.391-08:00Where's the party?Like most of the Med, Ibiza is a ghost town in winter. We took the bus into the town of Evissa and the old fort of dalt Vila a unesco heritage site. I was not charmed. Ibiza is billed as a hedonistic party town for the last forty years and seems to have more than it's share of leftover party goers. Some of which have probably been there for forty years. It has it's own DJ celebrity who is now a music producer and expert marketer, with a shop called "F*** me, I'm famous!" that about sums it up.
When we got back from the restaurant with Internet, the gate was closed and we were locked out, it said to call this number for entry, but we didn't have a phone. There was nothing for it but to jump the fence, Serge goes first and no sooner am I straddling the eight foot fence when I hear the guard ask us what we were doing. I start laughing, and soon he is too. Good thing there was no dog!
Serge decides he needs an X-ray at 3 pm the next day so we make a stop at the hospital in the smaller town we're in to discover they have no machine, check at the private clinic. On our way we stop at a health food store where they tell us there is no X-ray machine in this town. I ask him, "Do you really want to take their word for it?" and when we see a sign for an osteopath I go in and he tells us, yes, just around the corner at the clinic. When we walk in we seem to have disturbed the doctor, Serge thinks he may have been drinking, His red rimmed eyes suggest to me he may have been sleeping one off. He palates the hand, he too thinks it broken, we need an X-ray, (for this I need a doctor?) the X-ray shows a fracture, the doctor says,"like when you punch something.". Wow, he's psychic too. We talk about the options, rule out surgery which would hardly make any difference anyway, and he suggests immobilization, a cast would be ideal. But Serge needs his mobility, so brightening like he just thought of it, he shows us what he can do for it. He cuts two little pieces of tape, and tapes the baby and ring finger together (for this we need a doctor?). I wonder how much this treatment is going to cost us. 120 euros, including the X-ray it turns out. I guess as far as tuition for anger management goes, it's a bargain. As we leave the office another patient is sitting in the waiting room with his shoe off. His baby toe is taped to the next one. This guy gets a lot of mileage out of his tape. Maybe that's how he treats everyone, no matter what the problem is. Trouble with your shoulder? Here, let me tape your arm to your body. Tummy ache? Let me tape your lips together. Trouble seeing? Let me tape your eyelids to your ears. Anyway,all of this to confirm what Serge already knew, his finger was broken, and now there is nothing to do about it but let it heal.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946511373317718333.post-12414428026715145652011-12-22T11:31:00.000-08:002011-12-23T07:34:44.443-08:00Anchors away!You can ask Terry, I've been hankering to anchor for some weeks now, and I've finally convinced Serge this is the night
All goes well, and Serge even sets his fancy Isailor anchor alarm. These gizmos are only as good as the geezer workin
'em, and for some reason he sets it at 38 meters after paying out 45 meters of chain. So in the early part of the night the alarm goes off. "did you hear that? What was it?" He's snoring so first I have to wake him up. Up on deck he declares our relationship with the shore and the few other boats hasn't changed, but the wind has pushed us around 180 degrees. Ok fine, I declare our relationship may turn around 180 degrees if I don't get some sleep. What good is this stupid alarm anyways. Just after falling asleep again, the alarm goes off. This time Serge announces that yes, indeed, we are dragging our anchor. I envisage the claw dragging slowly through the sand. Ok, what now? Reset the anchor? Find a marina? After messing with the iPad he discovers his mistake. Once you've lost faith in your anchor holding, it's VERY DIFFICULT to get it back and fall asleep. But eventually we do, for a few hours anyways. We got up at 6 am, the sun doesn't until after 8. We're on our way at7:20 an hour before sunrise. It starts out pretty calm, but gets pretty rolly and windy pretty soon. 2 meter waves on the beam, (that's 6-8 feet for you Americans) and steady winds at 20 knots, we were flying at 8-10 knots.
We arrived at Santa Eulalia on the island of Ibiza, just north of the town of Evissa. It's a beautiful, craggy approach, and we actually have some footage of the sail which we will upload when we get a better connection, and can figure out how to get it from the camera to the iPad.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946511373317718333.post-28186553388326462011-12-20T12:22:00.000-08:002011-12-20T12:22:57.731-08:00Another Night Of Knockin' About<div class="msg-body inner undoreset" style="font: 10pt arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">
The winds were gusting at 35 knots, or over 60 km/hr. or 50 mph. The boats were trying to jump out of their berths like racehorses. A couple of times we heard a very loud noise close by & asked each other, "What was THAT?!" & we rushed out on deck. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On Top Of The Wave</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">Surfing Down The Wave</td></tr>
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Serge thought one of the bumpers had burst on impact with our neighbour. Another time he watched from on deck while our 60 ft. powerboat neighbour drifted closer & closer, within 8 feet & you ask yourself, "Is it going to stop?" Yes, it did, but we found out the next day that one of his bow lines had snapped, that was probably the loud pop we heard. We hadn't had a night this bad since our very 1st night aboard during the famous "bura" winds. It's basically a feckin' hurricane. Surveying the scene in the morning Serge found a 6 in. piece of plastic moulding that did not come from our boat. Some one had broken something & it was on our boat. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Watching For The Next Wave</td></tr>
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After 3 nights we scheduled our departure for 8 am. We woke up at 8 am., the Spanish culture is starting to wear off on us. They don't party or dine until after 10 pm. so no one is raring to go bright & early, no wonder their economy is in the tank. The sailing was wonderful in the bay, nice & flat, & then it gradually gets windier & wavier, & around the point Serge wants to turn back. I say NO, SOLDIER ON!! A couple of minutes later, a huge wave breaks over the bow & rumbles towards ME, in the cockpit. Serge again suggests we turn back & I say, good idea, LET'S! He then notices a band flapping beside the boat in the waves, I grab ahold & it turns out it's attached to the bow. As I pull it in with much effort, I see it's the ice cream cone bouy from the anchor chain, to mark our anchor in a bay. It's full of sea water, so weighs a ton, but I muscle it onboard. We end up anchoring in a quiet bay & taking the dinghy ashore with the outboard, something we had yet to do. Everything worked GREAT! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Safe At Aanchor. Whew!</td></tr>
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We'll try to get to Ibiza again tomorrow morning, but as I write this, we're in a British pub (drinking beer),full of British men drinking beer, & 1 woman drinking beer & a boy watching football. Wait, now we're all watching a TV program. What a bunch of silly, corny crap, no wonder the world is going to hell in a handbasket, the pillars of British righteousness have been reduced to porridge.<br /></div>
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946511373317718333.post-73843979638636331232011-12-20T12:10:00.000-08:002011-12-20T12:10:51.466-08:00Palma de MallorcaWe had a small window of weather to cross to Palma de Mallorca, there is a big storm coming and big winds for a few days. The total passage is just over 100nm. But you are exposed to the open sea all around. We motored all the way....sailing would have taken double the time. We had to be there to take delivery of our new mainsail<br />from North, which we had bought in Croatia, to be delivered here. Only problem is that the sail got here first, and they are all closing shop tomorrow for the Holidays. We had to come now or wait for two weeks here. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">Taking Vanilla's pulse</td></tr>
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<br />We left at 4:30pm last night and gunned it all night. The wind and the waves were against us all the f'kn way. Huge waves and strong winds, both on the nose. Big stuff,<br />big waves 2 to 3 meters, on the nose. Up and down and sideways, non stop. Cynthia was feeling her guts lock up so lay down in the cockpit, & never got up. She did wake up a few times, & we spent a memorable hour in the early morning watching shooting stars. There must have been 30 or 40, some real fireballs too. It was spectacular. And she saw a couple of "flares" again. These are like magnesium lights, faster than a plane, of which there were quite a few, but slower than a shooting star. They were IN FRONT of the clouds. One tracked a short distance across the sky & the other stayed pretty much in one spot. She saw a big fireball streak down to the horizon later, & it had the hazy glow of being viewed through the clouds, so she had something to compare it with. <br />
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<br />After 17 hrs we pulled in the marina in Palma. There was a MEGA yacht trying to raise her jib in the harbour, & we felt like midgets when we pulled in, there were so many huge boats. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">Mega-yacht with jib problems.</td></tr>
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It is a top of the line marina, and cheaper than some crappy other ones we were in. I had a hard time walking straight, everything was still moving. Anyways, we'll have to stay here for a couple of days and let the storm pass, mainly high winds...gale warning in effect.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">Highly specialized rigging tool<br /></td></tr>
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946511373317718333.post-26435259164951697482011-12-15T11:44:00.000-08:002011-12-15T11:44:29.548-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There's nothing quite like approaching a new town at dawn from the sea. First of all, you're so bloody grateful to see land again, hell, grateful just to be alive! This is a famous tourist place, & I can see why. The old captain was right, Mahon is not to be missed. Impressive cliffs, deep inlet & the palm trees & condos remind me of Florida's intra-coastal waterway. Some Sat. morning sailboats greet us at it's entrance, followed by a flotilla of Optimist dinghys tethered together & being towed by a Zodiac. We pass little coves filled with moored sailboats & as we pull into the fuel dock we have to spin a few circles to avoid ramming into a kayak race. More kids jousting for position, a couple capsizing, & lots of cajoling & cackling. I love this family oriented place. We just miss the marina office closing, so we dock ourselves & try to figure out how to pass through the locked dock gate. Some older guys come marching down the dock carrying a plywood dinghy & we both think, "there's no way they're all going fishing together in THAT thing." Turns out they were setting a course for their America's Cup remote control model boat racing. There's racing for all ages here! We ask about the office being closed & one of them replies, "So, it's free then!" Terrific. Only how to get in & out? We discuss the merits of a short dinghy ride, but then think we have to worry about the dingy. Instead we rig a lanyard on the handle of the gate. What a larcenous bunch we've become. <br />
I can see why this is a favourite summer resort, it's charming, & the people are so friendly, even in winter. Too bad we have to leave Mon. morning before dawn. Before the marina office opens, heh, heh, heh. As it turns out, the sea had other plans, after beating our brains out in the waves against the wind, we turn around, 10 miles into our 100 mile crossing to Mallorca. Our jib halyard also snapped, another reason to turn around. Luckily the sail was still wrapped around the stay. So here we are, nonchalantly sailing back into the marina, pretending we are just arriving. Pretty clever, eh? This time we were greeted by the manager. He gives us the full treatment, & I'm waiting for Serge's guilt or big mouth to give us away. He keeps it together. The bathrooms & showers are in a portable again, but the ladies room does not lock, it doesn't even close properly, there is a "modesty" fence with ivy but the steps up to the bathroom put you in full view of a busy road. And it's cold. I have to be careful how I bend down to dry my legs, or there may be a major accident. Later, to get an internet connection when the office is closed, we pile into the men's room w/our electronic devices, only to discover that there are quite a few boaters in the marina, they all have to use the ladies. HA, maybe someone will complain about the lack of privacy. <br />
Getting & staying connected has been a major problem. We find the store for another 3g card for the iPad, only Serge has forgotten his passport again, a recurring theme. When we start back to get it, I ask him, "Where's the computer?" He gives me this blank look, & figures he put it down at the 3g store. Holy shite, we tear back to the store, uphill several blocks on cobblestones, the terrible consequences running through our heads. He looks on the floor, it's GONE! Some grampa is taking pictures of some customers w/the people behind the counter, it feels like we're interrupting a family gathering, but when we ask about the computer, the clerk points to it on a counter, WHEW! What a bunch of honest folks here, in fact, maybe they are all related.<br />
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We had a terrific dinner at a waterfront restaurant, with amazing choices like, "Stuffed foie crocante of hazelnuts landfill of "ointment","Sirloin of veal w/soft cream of potato violet, air of his bones, and truffle" or "Broad beans & peas w/false ink of trumpet of death" You get feckin' Irish poetry on the menu! Not to mention caramel of scum for dessert! Too bad there was no room for the Eatable Gin Tonic.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Came pretty close to this guy</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No, this is not a nude beach, stop squinting</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some original fortifications</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Optimist gaggle</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of several little coves</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We're beside the catamaran</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The "other" side of town</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The parade begins w/instructions from the tuba</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ferry leaving</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Internet bums waiting for Cafe Ars to open</td></tr>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946511373317718333.post-85844770227964287492011-12-13T04:42:00.000-08:002011-12-13T04:42:19.714-08:00Teulada to MenorcaWe wake up in our scenic secluded marina & decide we need to buy something. There must be something missing in our lives, so we take stock & decide 4 rolls of toilet paper is cutting it too close, so to town for toilet paper it is. Secluded is an understatement, it's 7 km to town, up & down hill, mostly up it seems, and blowing a gale. Surely someone will stop & pick us up. Not a chance. Get into town at siesta time, anywhere between noon & 5 pm. depending on the town. This means it closes down tighter than a rusty nut. We strut like a couple of real desperados, as a wave of door shutting is announcing our approach. Frantically realizing our mission could be severely compromised we dart about every street & see someone in the distance exiting a store. Eureka, it's open. And a market. Feeling like it could be our last encounter with food we start loading up, then realize we have to cart this shite all the way back. So we limit ourselves to the REAL neccessities (like wine)& get something for a picnic lunch in the park. More coldcuts & cheese. We already have enough coldcuts & cheese in the boat to open a delicatessen, but that's what's on offer. <br />
On the way home we pass 3 seniors rummaging about in the roadside bushes, hmm, wonder what they're doing. Picking berries for Myrto, the Sardinian special liquor. She opens her hand to show me the purple berries which I had already ascertained at the internet cafe were myrtle berries. I automatically pop one into my mouth of course & am rewarded with a sweet taste followed by an intensely bitter sensation. I resist the urge to spit it out & soldier on until out of sight to spit it out.<br />
Next we pass the mandarin orange grove with the faulty fence so I offer to go in & get some. We hear dogs barking in the direction of the distant hacienda, at least 3. Serge will wait on the other side & I'll throw him the oranges. This seems agreeable to me as I've had half a litre of red wine. I topple over the fence & grease up the knees of my freshly washed jeans, crap. It wouldn't seem like such a shame if I had the ability to do laundry at any time, but I don't, there are no laundromats in Italy, or all of Europe as far as I can ascertain. There is just not the same premium placed on having clean clothes, in fact, it's MUCH, MUCH higher. About the cost of having it done at a 5 star hotel. Anyway, I toss him the oranges in rapid fire succession as I imagine the dog barking is getting closer. He manages to catch about 2 out of 3. Back over the fence, no shooting or biting, whew.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY2xFv7RbEo5YSK_LM5-hdgsqQHIAeo1rO-q_Yd1hKFQFZtpIryBrx2_5Cz2uV5dvedPrNIBl8cvJ4AfBJ_5m_77ABhNYtokT6_JcHIFq4x9vwAGiURg_OYg7hleJPLFmRVbnQ3uPYq9E/s1600/DSC00935.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY2xFv7RbEo5YSK_LM5-hdgsqQHIAeo1rO-q_Yd1hKFQFZtpIryBrx2_5Cz2uV5dvedPrNIBl8cvJ4AfBJ_5m_77ABhNYtokT6_JcHIFq4x9vwAGiURg_OYg7hleJPLFmRVbnQ3uPYq9E/s640/DSC00935.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is how we like the sea, FLAT</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf9-jsQ4JckaRY6hzL7mthf8zn8JxFzPN4skKhE8xxWaiD__pOGB48AAQcDPITJynAWwpLP19Aw79p6iyCeth-r76YS-FaUUIqgr4g0oGdSLmZktZJVPwzFaiWEstrXHWPESINWTOtfkg/s1600/DSC00937.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf9-jsQ4JckaRY6hzL7mthf8zn8JxFzPN4skKhE8xxWaiD__pOGB48AAQcDPITJynAWwpLP19Aw79p6iyCeth-r76YS-FaUUIqgr4g0oGdSLmZktZJVPwzFaiWEstrXHWPESINWTOtfkg/s640/DSC00937.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The full moon is especially bright this evening</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSOIbMlFH63w4ZC73h7-aJhmmoAKhQHd39EHpRc6JE61d2TMke9hg63mk7xkkC9oIT4loO8jcxNUDIGieWWA2OFv8oQjYvyFzXUeEftRNbsT2rJA5NNrGaNXpAKB78OpIztvjToywKF_8/s1600/DSC00925.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSOIbMlFH63w4ZC73h7-aJhmmoAKhQHd39EHpRc6JE61d2TMke9hg63mk7xkkC9oIT4loO8jcxNUDIGieWWA2OFv8oQjYvyFzXUeEftRNbsT2rJA5NNrGaNXpAKB78OpIztvjToywKF_8/s640/DSC00925.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cliff where the dolphin came from</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk01qX7tlsFC5I8DWabPJNk23y-_V6WbIh1rZSZK6SWUCuX23MTZLa1qbHfPvpRH8AQtoHcT7K747srXmSEd13fMeX62S1PYK308KG5-eLX1leeM5miRP6ojlbQ3MSgJZEsvhdRw12Soc/s1600/DSC00926.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk01qX7tlsFC5I8DWabPJNk23y-_V6WbIh1rZSZK6SWUCuX23MTZLa1qbHfPvpRH8AQtoHcT7K747srXmSEd13fMeX62S1PYK308KG5-eLX1leeM5miRP6ojlbQ3MSgJZEsvhdRw12Soc/s640/DSC00926.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Other side of cliffs</td></tr>
</tbody></table>When we leave at dawn the next morning is completely still and I'm on the foredeck securing the dinghy. Serge calls me to look at something. It's a dolphin who breaches 3 times at right angles to come to meet us. He swims with us for a few minutes & I squeal like a kid at Christmas. He turns sideways to look at me before he goes and I swear it's the same one I've been seeing since Messina. A big grey stripe on his side. We feel this is a good omen for our first long passage just the two of us.<br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5946511373317718333.post-40450235563334234402011-12-11T04:38:00.000-08:002011-12-11T04:38:18.139-08:00Cagliari to TeuladaUpon closer inspection in daylight Marina del Sole looks more like Marina del Hole, w/scratch & smell effects. But it grew on me with time. It was more like a cruisers haven w/a trading space for books & sundries & a small courtesy car. Never mind that the toilet is totally loose on it's fittings & on the floating dock it shakes around in every boat's wake. We managed to find an internet cafe right across the street from a lavanderia!(laundromat) What luck! After spending some time online in the little hole in the wall we find a fabulous place for lunch. The waiter spoka gooda English & gave us several variations of the fixed menu to argue about. All Sardinian specialities. See picture. <br />
We also found an Apple store to buy an iPad as we were addicted to Terry's for the iSailor app. Now that we were off the charts, literally, we also wanted a new paper chart for the Balearics, to back up iSailor. We went to 3 marine stores, w/3 big bags of dirty laundry, looking for a chart. It seems everyone already knows what's out there, so there aren't any charts, sorry. Finally we found an old captain who had a stock of old charts, & we got one, for 10 euros! What luck! Except we realize later that it's 40 yrs. old! What luck! Good thing there aren't many landslides & earthquakes here. <br />
We got the iPad w/a 3G chip w/the understanding it would be activated by 08:00 the next morning. You have to provide ID to activate any sim cards so Serge had had to return to the store (uphill) last evening (in the rain) w/his passport (I passed). 10:00 next morning still no activation. Serge inquires at marina office who calls the apple store who say it will be 24 to 48 hrs. for activation! No answer at 3G store. Serge has a fit & punches the nav table. Nav table wins. Serge thinks he broke his little finger knuckle. I think I'll break it for him. His right palm swells to the size of a lemon & I have nothing frozen to put on it, as we deactivated the giant empty freezer. His ego shrinks to the size of a sunflower seed as he realizes the jeopardy this puts our venture in. Within minutes we're activated. We postpone our departure another day, which gives me the opportunity to pick up those cute Italian leather boots that were on offer at the trading table. Plus I'll need something to wear to kick Serge in the ass. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm7hBkIm0JzPa9ZbSNbOChkgpcfyy_JuKGowvYB5Qzzyb0NezO8-b3hu6kFtEPx7CmXUBdKGPoUVfZEPArcW6fnOc-5PSIJRgWhirZ2FanYgu89Jwygn7wN_E4v8vbZmNBfs5dc_aeiqo/s1600/DSC00905.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm7hBkIm0JzPa9ZbSNbOChkgpcfyy_JuKGowvYB5Qzzyb0NezO8-b3hu6kFtEPx7CmXUBdKGPoUVfZEPArcW6fnOc-5PSIJRgWhirZ2FanYgu89Jwygn7wN_E4v8vbZmNBfs5dc_aeiqo/s640/DSC00905.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We can't decide what feckin' beautiful morning this is. But we're pretty sure it's sunrise.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHY33TmEVbcuQOOT8v3Yn13kby6LG2r0MmDUnh60tRDt5QkZT_NMRiL97XXhcwYgVsVbt_fjWnjvbjiHrYQoR31HTUeMtrWtZ-iiU1RSZDHuucOVjGH4rlkPcFiuQGI-wtEZwvu_mQIwc/s1600/DSC00906.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHY33TmEVbcuQOOT8v3Yn13kby6LG2r0MmDUnh60tRDt5QkZT_NMRiL97XXhcwYgVsVbt_fjWnjvbjiHrYQoR31HTUeMtrWtZ-iiU1RSZDHuucOVjGH4rlkPcFiuQGI-wtEZwvu_mQIwc/s640/DSC00906.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is only the anti-pasti! 2 courses w/wine, dessert, coffee, cookies, liqueur for 21 euros ea.!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBKE2RhTHzfPlyKolmqbo9wHrkVlvuQldD0YjxsWUiKEkttdQS3jkeHxjE99ol_4iPMkwkP5vfnRyoEq4-25Xc0kMzCyxDpYgJSpPyiJhowbhBwJMbx6HQ7iAlnoQz8qcYqo1QPbhSVhM/s1600/DSC00910.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBKE2RhTHzfPlyKolmqbo9wHrkVlvuQldD0YjxsWUiKEkttdQS3jkeHxjE99ol_4iPMkwkP5vfnRyoEq4-25Xc0kMzCyxDpYgJSpPyiJhowbhBwJMbx6HQ7iAlnoQz8qcYqo1QPbhSVhM/s640/DSC00910.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The 1st lighthouse south of Cagliari</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9cB1Fr1ny-wz938O8rSJQVX2DHxy9xOW_6GNvXAN3dKU9C7jn31FjSpGe5iTxXLgfs_VirKn-k1MJZ1Tkbivf99BMnQKY4BrbMQd2eLeHZFNxU-TItCABxzPXdifX7GI0hsYrFJibz48/s1600/DSC00913.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9cB1Fr1ny-wz938O8rSJQVX2DHxy9xOW_6GNvXAN3dKU9C7jn31FjSpGe5iTxXLgfs_VirKn-k1MJZ1Tkbivf99BMnQKY4BrbMQd2eLeHZFNxU-TItCABxzPXdifX7GI0hsYrFJibz48/s640/DSC00913.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rounding southern cape, 2 more lighthouses</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_W8zf79bXpAOintG1ydgfd2qO9FrD0flcxDLtwmH3lxi0CEPlfYYpl2Lc95ctJEHdIdBJw3qhTOgXiq3S3G2GVOS4IdU014MEkquve9aDq6D_as10qG4yiUVxnbZly4Nhu-akQvX9cek/s1600/DSC00917.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_W8zf79bXpAOintG1ydgfd2qO9FrD0flcxDLtwmH3lxi0CEPlfYYpl2Lc95ctJEHdIdBJw3qhTOgXiq3S3G2GVOS4IdU014MEkquve9aDq6D_as10qG4yiUVxnbZly4Nhu-akQvX9cek/s640/DSC00917.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rocky cape</td></tr>
</tbody></table>With gale force wind in the forecast, we cast off without a hitch the next day. Strong winds push us out of the harbour at a speed peaking at 11 knots, but after rounding the corner we have to sail upwind in 2 meter waves & strong headwind. The rocky coast is striking. We don't have any paper or iSailor charts for it, so hope we don't strike anything. Keep your eyes on the depth sounder, but ignore the alarms it keeps giving out for "Deep Depth". Honestly, that's what it's warning you about, it's too deep. Otto the auto pilot gets a rest as Serge has to anticipate the steering (with his left hand) Make it into Teulada, some 40 miles away, at 15:00. It's a secluded port with a brand new marina. Watch the sunset, have dinner, & go to bed early. <br />
Sorry about 2 posts in 2 hrs., but Spain has high speed free feckin' wifi everywhere, even at Burger King.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0