We had arrived in Antigua and traveled to the English Harbour, two days ago, boarded Juno and stowed our kit. I had grabbed a top bunk to the rear of the boat above Melony, the second mate.

Yesterday we sailed out of the harbour in to the open sea to practice ‘man over board’ drill and latter we all went to the restaurant for evening meal. After loading the boat with more food, a discussion about the state of the engine (a bit doubtful) and a quick and tearful phone call to Ann, we left the dock at 11.30am.

It was hot – very hot.  Feet over the side we posed for photos that would be posted on the website (or so we hoped)

 There was a racing start exactly at 12.00 noon and then we were off Juno, Diana and Isis. Some tacking was called for – sheets winches and sails all seemed heavy and strange. We had to sail to the north of the island around the headland before turning north on our course to the Azores. The ocean was blue as blue, and there was a slight swell as we saw the land slip away. Just sea now for the 2300 nautical miles to Horta and the Azores. Sandwiches appeared for lunch, and for a couple of hours all three boats were in sight of each other. At 6.00pm we started the watch system that was to govern our sleeping eating and time at the helm. Three hours on and six hours off. Supper was stew and potatoes. This was the first of many evening meals – served in a bowl with a spoon, and was the one meal that we all took together, usually on deck and today in the clammy heat of the Caribbean.

Later that evening after a couple of false starts I managed to clamber up into my bunk. We were beating head into the wind and the boat was healed over to port so the next few days were to be lived at an angle. This was not easy; whether trying to get into the bunk, cook in the galley, use the loo (called for some unfathomable reason ‘the heads’) or just move about the boat it all took time and a lot of effort. We started our watch at 9.00pm.

The stars were out in force and the Milky Way clearly visible. Then a good omen – a shooting star zipped across the sky.’

Day 2 Sunday 9^th May

There was a vast choice of cereal for breakfast but despite this I choose honey puffs.  Slowly I am coming to terms with the helm.  Not to move it too fast and then to correct for over steer that comes with the swell.  The feeling of steering the boat is amazing – just what I had expected only more so!

We think we are in the lead.  Diana has slipped behind us and Isis too.  Between watches I am on deck but seem to have forgotten that there is no shade on a boat.  I will have to conserve the sunscreen that I have and cover up.  The ‘regular’ sailors are settling in but it’s taking me longer. 

Marcus – a sixty year old retired accountant, is both cheerful and blunt  He has done the trip before but in the opposite direction sailing from Madeira to Antigua.  He is both strong and knowledgeable and I follow his lead.  Tony too is a sailor.  He’s from Nova Scotia and has his own boat.  Tony is quiet until he gets going.  Together with me and Marcus he makes up the third person who is sixty plus.

Pete is a virgin sailor like me!  He won the trip as the first prize in a raffle.  He wandered into the boat show just because he was near and it was Sunday – Jill bought a ticket and by the time they had returned home there was a telephone call to say he had won.  Not only was the trip free but there was a selection of sailing kit – jacket, trousers, cap, etc to go with it.  Real nice fellow and a hit with the rest of the crew.

On my watch is Carol a 45 year old lady who married about six years ago but would still pass for a spinster and who had mild OCD.  Whilst she loves the helm and is good at steering, she is not much help in the kitchen and the crew are slow to warm to her or she to them. 

Rhonda, and American with an 18 year old son who lives with his father, works for Microsoft as a freelance manager.  A very strange lady who had her eye on the skipper and the first mate. She largely ignored me which was all to the good.  Our watch was overseen by Rory, a mega cheerful protestant from just outside Belfast.  His grandfather had been First Minister of the devolved government back in the 1980’s although he was just a bit slow to give his full background.  Rory had been sailing since he was in nappies and despite being only 21 was a great great sailor and good fun.

I was asleep, when the dolphin arrived and then left, but there were to be many more on our voyage.  What I did see was a sudden rush to the stern by Mark and Rory as the fishing line that ran from the back of the boat ran out making quite a clatter. 

They hauled in a tuna and before long, half had been cut up as sushi and half taken down to the galley to be cooked.

We had sailed north and were just off the Florida coast so before supper, and I would guess at about the right time, I toasted Matt and Brita on their wedding day!  Honey and mustard pork for supper – still in our one bowl.  Washing up at 45~, with a big Atlantic swell lifting the stern of the boat and burying the bow in the next wave, is difficult and eleven plates and all the pots need to be washed up in a sink that is tiny.

Our watch was from nine to midnight but tonight there were no stars.  Being on the helm at night is a special experience and amazing.  Both Carol and I anxious to have our turn (we did half hour shifts so were at the helm twice in a shift) but Rhonda did her best to sneak out of her turn.

By the end of the watch the boat healed over more, so my top bunk had to be tipped to stop me rolling out despite the lea cloth.

Day 3 Monday 10^th May

I was up and organised early – strip wash in the ‘heads’ – the spray that is the shower attachment looks too difficult to negotiate and there are strict statements about not using much water!  I went on deck and Mark, the skipper, appeared with the Lysol and a scrubbing brush.  He is a bit particular about keeping the grime at bay so I joined in and scrubbed and hosed the deck while the sun shone down.

Mark has a Birmingham accent and come from Wednesbury.  His father, who dealt mainly in cash (??), was an enthusiastic sailor who took his family away sailing most weekends and in the summer holidays.  It was there Mark grew his skill and after a marriage and several jobs on land he joined Ondeck about eight years ago and has been sailing with them since.  It’s contract work so paid per voyage and per day but he says he loves it.

I was rewarded, for my labours with the scrubbing brush, with a bacon sandwich – cooked by Mark.  Tasted all the better to be sitting there watching the ocean as the swell lifted the boat and then set it down again.   Washing up remains a nightmare at this angle and seems to be the ‘oldie’ members of the crew who are volunteering for the task. Surprise!

No one has been seasick although Pete was just a bit queasy last night. However no sooner is one meal over and it’s time for the next.  Three meals a day and there is no chance of my losing weight.  Brie ham and salad, eaten on deck for lunch.  I go looking for a bit of shade on the foredeck (i.e. a yard in front of the mast!) and find some, that is until the wind moves and we adjust course taking away the shadow.

Kate, who was a Financial Advisor amongst other things but is now in love with sailing. She made a cake – cherry sponge with icing which comes as both a surprise and a welcome break for tea. Allegedly it’s for Rhonda who is making a fuss about it being Mothers Day (American) and how she is missing her son.  Kate is plump, of indeterminate age, has an ‘understanding’ with the second mate on Minerva.  She has done the trip several times before. She took and narrowly failed her Oceanmaster exam last time so has to retake a portion of it at the end of this voyage.  It’s a bit cleeky among the sailors and those who have done it before but we are slowly getting to know one another.

I was homesick for Ann so had a private few moments on the foredeck.  To his credit Mark did come and ask if I was Ok

Our turn to cook supper – Me Rhonda and Carol – chaos no one took control but we came up with chicken in a sauce served in wraps and that went down well.  (Bit of a disagreement about pasta as Mark hates it and won’t eat it and therefore Rhonda refused to cook pasta as she is still trying to impress him)

During our night watch we saw flying fish and there was a great glow of phosphorescence in the breaking water from our bow.

Day 4 Tuesday 11^th May

Slept well even though it is too hot to lie inside my sleeping bag.  Good job I had acquired a towel in Antigua which now doubles as a sheet on the stick plastic of what passes for a mattress pad on my bunk. I get up and attempted to use the shower attachment!  Feels clean and good!  This morning I got, what was to be the only message from Ann (or for that matter anyone in the family) that filtered through to me.  “Put your cap on” and this came as a timely reminder.  I had packed my MTRAC cap but as yet it had not come to the top of my kit and was somewhere buried out of sight.  In addition my scalp and forehead – which I had creamed – were red from the scorching sun. So, lesson learnt, on went my cap for the rest of the trip.  Felt a bit out of it since everyone else had very smart caps emblazoned with logos telling of their previous sailing exploits.

I was on the helm this morning and Carol kindly said I was getting the hang of it.  Actually its more about sailing to the compass rather than the wind but by moving up a few degrees it was remarkable how you could get a couple of extra knots out of the boat.

Lunch, then my iPod ran out – disaster!  I gave it to Rory who at first forgot then remembered to put it on charge.  Once again it was very hot with little or no shade.  The rest of the crew have arrived with bottles and bottles of sun lotion and Pete is going as brown as a nut.

Our watch straight after supper, which was a great Thai chicken curry cooked by Marcus who it transpires is the best cook on the boat.  Then bed and sleep for four hours after which it is time to get up, grab a quick cup of coffee and then on deck for the ‘sunrise’ watch which takes us up to breakfast.  During the time I was not at the helm I had a chat with Rory about Belfast, Strangford loch where he had learnt to sail, and the island that the family owned which is now inhabited by an artistic Aunt, her husband and lots of sheep.

Day 5 Wednesday 12^th May

Just finished or second watch of the night and was greeted by Mark who cooked breakfast for everyone – fried eggs, bacon, tomatoes, bread and beans.  Amazing!

Managed to negotiate the ordeal of a wash at 45~, had a sort out of my cloths that have to last another eleven days at least.  I guess if you don’t wear something for a few days the armpit smell goes away and it can be recycled!

No one keen to do lunch so guess it’s my turn (neither Carol or Rhonda came to my aid) Carol was stuck in OCD and had to have her wash and wash her hair first, so I boiled some eggs, pulled together some salad cheese and bread and that was it.

Straight after lunch had a nap on my bunk and awoke to find us almost becalmed and we were managing only 5 knots.  However mercifully the boat was flat on an even keel!

I have a ‘bruised bottom’ from the pimperly, hard deck. While I wear my boots at night it’s much easier to go bare foot during the day.  Despite sorting out my kit it’s still very difficult to remember just where it is stowed alongside me in my bunk.  Even if I can remember where I put it, trying to locate stuff when I can’t sit up straight on the bunk since there is not enough headroom, is a nightmare.  It’s all has to be done lying resting on an elbow and shuffling from one end of the bunk to the other.  Not only that, I have to remember to get all my jumpers and cap and creams together before getting down from the bunk. To forget means climbing back up and standing on Melony (who seems to take to her bunk at every opportunity!).

We are in the middle of the Atlantic – and the ocean is as blue as blue and as flat as a millpond.  They say it’s the Azores high and we could be stuck like this for days so we may have to use the motor.

This morning we nearly caught up with Isis who had now assumed the lead but then she slipped away and is ahead again.  The story is that her skipper Louie is fiercely competitive and will want to win at all costs.

During the night Rhonda slipped and cut the web between her first and second toes.  Mark was on to it like a shot so I stood back!!  He has dressed it and put her on bed rest for a while so our watch is now down to Carol and me.  Gives more time at the helm although Rory is quite happy to do the odd spell.  We did both the early night watch and the watch just before dawn.

Time on the boat is at GMT.  That’s very convenient for ensuring that we are all synchronised for our watches but it bears no resemblance to meal times or darkness.  For meals we still operate on Antigua time which is four hours different.  Guess it will all sort it’s self out as we near the Azores which should be working on GMT.

Oh I wrote the blog for the boat and I think it’s been sent so there is a message in it for Ann.

Day 6 Thursday 13^th May

Up early because of the noise.  We have been on the motor all night and my bunk is right there next to it!  We are still flat so I took advantage and had a shower’ and a shave.  I was just figuring out what cereal to have for breakfast when the motor went off.  We were about to tack and go back on sail power.

The second time we tacked the foresail catches the stretchers and rippes.  A real good long tear!  So we all clipped on to go onto the fore deck and bring down the sail and tie it down onto the deck.  Boy is that sail heavy trying to pull it in wet. I was sitting down to make sure I was stable and safe then it was so heavy that I could hardly pull my legs from underneath the sail once it was down.  Rory is amazing. He is very strong and seems to understand all the ins and outs of the boat and had the sail under control very quickly. ‘It’s my livelihood’ is his reply to my praise’.  What now?

I was back on the helm whilst the others struggled to get the torn sail down into the cockpit which it nearly fills.  Tony started to sew, Kate had a go for a while, but it would be tomorrow before Tony finished repairing the tear.  In the mean time we dragged the smaller foresail up from the locker at the bows and hoisted that.  We had lost some time and Diana who was behind us appeared on our port side before veering off on a course of her own.  We could soon be in third place as our sail power was diminished.

A large bird, probably a shearwater, circled the boat and then flew off.  We must be 1000 miles from land in any direction so it was a surprise to see it.

Lunch, a nap and then it’s our turn to make supper.  A one pot stew with potatoes.  Too many cooks but goes down well.

Then we are on watch and Rory wants to helm.  He seems to get more speed out of the boat than us.  Suddenly there is a loud snap.  Rory slides across the after deck from one wheel to the other on the lower side.  The top wheel spins on its own.  The steering strop has broken and Mark comes up on deck.  I hold the torch by the binnacle and a couple of hours latter, together with quite a lot of forthright language, the new strop is in place.

We go off to bed but up again at 3.00am for the next watch.  The winds are light and it starts to rain as we come off watch.

Day 7 Friday 14^th May

I have worked out that my sleeping / living space is 7 foot by 3 foot 6 inches by 26 inches!  Last night my bunk was tilted at the wrong angle.  We tacked soon after I came to bed so the boat lent over to starboard and I tended to roll out. 

Slept all the same and again kept from falling out by the lea cloth.  We are back on the motor as I get up so I go for a wash and then put on the Levellers t-shirts that has had a few days for the odour to dissipate.  There is a piece of eggy bread left for me as breakfast.  We had been on watch so I was late up.

In the cockpit there is a sombre mood but Tony and Rory have finished stitching the 8 foot tear in the yellow foresail so it is ready to use when the time is right (that is presuming the mend holds).  The shearwater circles us again then flies off.

Yesterday the inverter stopped working.  That’s something to do with charging the batteries so we will have to run the engine to make power.  It also means that the computer won’t work so we will have to pass messages over the radio to another boat to transmit for us.  Mark is pissed off and sends a message to Ondeck saying so!  They will fly out to meet us in the Azores bringing an electrician who should be able to fix the several electrical problems we have.

We go on watch and the wind is very light so a decision is made to put up the spinnaker.  There are more sheets (ropes) than ever and coils lie in the cockpit.  The spinnaker is multi coloured and looks very pretty, but in the light wind it does not fill and progress remains slow.  As yet we are not quite halfway to Horta in the Azores.

Supper is Spaghetti Bolognese and we then are on watch from midnight to 3.00am.  The wind is behind us and I am at the helm when a decision is made to take down the spinnaker and go back to the yellow number one foresail.  All this in the dark but there are no problems.

Back down in my bunk I am feel the crash and a sudden pitch as the boat gybes.  Easy to do and there are shouts all around.  All well – Pete continues at the wheel!!

Day 8 Saturday 15^th May

It’s my turn to make breakfast – Porridge and toast ( Rhonda is a nightmare).  It took ages to do and then there is the porridge saucepan to wash up in cold salt water pumped into the small sink.

The yellow foresail comes down and the spinnaker goes back up.  It’s hot so I have a second ‘shower’ of the day, sort out my dirty from clean clothes and wash my red short which I packed as an afterthought but which I have worn constantly (day and night!)

Another moment on the foredeck as I miss Ann and feel acute homesickness.  Lunch and then we are back on watch. Rory is anxious to get on the helm and to try to get us moving faster.  He is good, but this time as he collects the wind into the sails and the boat picks up speed, there is a bang.  The spinach tears or rather shreds – excitement and Mark is quickly on deck.  The torn sail is pushed through the ‘letterbox’ and we are all up on the foredeck trying to drag down the spinnaker and bundled it onto the deck.  I’m there but looking around rather helplessly while Marcus and Tony seem to have a grip on what to do.  Minutes later the panic is over but we are now two sails down – although the repair of the yellow number one does seem to be holding.

The drizzle starts, and on the horizon we can see the weather fronts moving towards us on two sides.  However they bring with them a wonderful double rainbow that lasts quite a while.

Pete disappears below and comes up with excellent ‘mancake’ – a carrot cake with pink icing.

Supper is chilli and before I go off for a sleep we all have a tot of rum to mark the fact that we have passed the halfway point.  The wind has swung around and is no longer coming from behind us. Down in the bunk I am tossed from one side to the other as we do a series of controlled moves as we start to beat into the wind and tacks.  It’s scary and I think ‘just get us there in one piece’.  I go up on deck as it’s our turn on watch.  Up there things sound less noisy and its easy to see what is happening as we beat into the wind and the boat once again is healed right over.  I have a long time on the helm, but its hard work and heavy on the arms.  Rhonda is down below so there is just Carol and me at the helm with a bit of help from Rory.

Back down for a sleep and I get four good hours and feel better.  It’s much colder at night now and I am steadily putting on more layers when I am on watch and I am glad of my warm sleeping bag.  I’m a tight fit so maybe I am putting on weight with three full meals a day!

 As mentioned the computer is not working so I wrote a bit for the blog and then gave it to Mark in the hope that one of the other boats could be contacted by radio and would send it on for us.  Ondeck is a pretty disorganised company that has a cavalier attitude to some things.

Day 9 Sunday 16^th May

During the night the wind has calmed down so our watch on the helm was easier. Amazingly, Rhonda joined in, but may be to impress Mark who continues to dress her toe each day!  During the watch I had time for a long chat with Pete.  He is really really nice guy who works for Network Rail.  He’s not sure if he knows Becky but maybe. His wife Jill is coming out to spend time with him in Horta so he is excited about that.  She had a serious illness four years ago but so far so good so ‘carpe diem’!

A good sleep so, up washed and on deck – lovely sun and blue sky.  I went below to make porridge and to help with the washing up.  It’s a day for individual chats so talked to Marinos for a while.  He was kind enough to email before I set off and gave me good advice about wet weather gear and boots and general reassurance. 

Marinos is a real sailor and has recently bought a new boat which he keeps in Portsmouth.  It sounds very posh with all mod-cons and rather more comfortable than Juno!  Marinos is to do the Ocean master Course in the Azores together with Rory and several others from Diana and Isis.  He is absolutely focused on the task at hand, is always first on the helm for his watch and tends to take his sailing very seriously.  It is Marinos that knows where the chocolate is stored away in the fridge so he appears with the bag of snickers etc each evening after supper.

Pizza for lunch, quite a task for all of us, using only the small grill.  Back on deck the sun shines out of a blue sky reflecting on the blue ocean. As happens each day the music sounds out over the deck – Everyone except me seems to recognise the singer or group as well as knowing most of the words.  A bit of peace was bought by Carol the other evening when we had Dvorcks cello concerto.  This morning we had a brief burst of the Levellers singing ‘Beautiful Day’ direct from my iPod.  I’ve been thinking a lot about home and just what’s going on with Adam.  Even more so as we get Neil Diamond on the loudspeakers all over supper.

I’ll catch a couple of hours before our next watch. My IPod has been recharged so listen to Melvin Bragg on Zulus. The wind is behind us so the boat is pretty flat making it easier to get into my bunk.

It’s our turn for supper – Carol and me.  She has an idea for beef borginone so I am happy to let her take the lead.  There is still fresh meat in the fridge so I cut a chunk off the beef, dissect out the fat and gristle and add it to the pot.

Then comes the shout – Dolphins! 

We are straight on deck and there are twenty to thirty swimming and leaping alongside the boat and ahead of it. I went right up to the rail in the bows where there was the best view. The dolphins stayed for about half an hour and are gone as fast as they came.

Back to the cooking.  It turned out ok but there weren’t enough potatoes so glum looks but no comment.  Not a lot of wind but sails stayed up. Our watch from 6.00pm to 9.00pm then back up at 3.00am till 6.00am to see the dawn come up.  Somewhere along the way played I-spy, told my ‘that’s once’ joke and had a lovely long time on the helm.  It’s great at night – sailing the Atlantic just as I’d imagined.

Day 10   Monday 17^th May

Muesli for breakfast and on deck there is a much bigger swell than yesterday and lots of white horses. The sky is blue and I’m on my second mug of coffee out of my ‘comfort blanket’ mug which is getting lots of use. The back of the boat lifts with each wave and we surf down it reaching 13 or 14 knots just for that instant.  The big swell makes the boat difficult to steer and hold to the correct course. We are into wind, healed right over and as the bow dips into the ocean water spills along the deck and the unwary get soaked.  Ok that’s me and I dry out standing at the helm. 

The swell is just as I had imagined.  A wall of water much bigger than the boat comes in from the stern lifting it and tilting the boat down towards the bows that then get buried in the water making spray all along the port side.  We make good progress, even if it’s slightly off course and there are aching shoulder muscles at the end of the watch

There is the greasy washing up to do as the boat pitches around then a couple of hours in my bunk before the next watch at midnight. 

The swell has calmed down.  I’m warm with three layers under my wet weather gear and boots.  Hope it’s not too cold on the run up to Portsmouth.  Strong thoughts about Ann and home.  Still very unsure about Adam.

Day 11 Tuesday 18^th May

Up for early watch after a great sleep.  Quick wash – my Ziploc wash bag is looking very scruffy and I’ll need to find a replacement in the Azores.  I was first on the helm and had a long turn (Rhonda still not much in evidence).  Great fun and as we come off watch there is still some of Tony’s corn beef hash and coffee.  I get Rory to plug in my iPod again so we get ‘Beautiful Day’ and it’s tremendous even if a bit distorted.  As it plays I think of everyone back at home.  I ask again about messages from home but apparently none have got through and the computer is still out of commission because of the inverter.  Blue sky and big swell – this is wonderful and we are making good progress.  Just as well since the food is running low!!  The prediction is that we should arrive by Wednesday evening.  Skipper looks fed up – not sure why.

The dolphins return and play all around the boat.  The swell makes the boat hard to steer.  I’m supposed to be on a course between 80~ -90~ but veer off this up to 120.  The boat heals over and the port rails are in the water which cascades into the cockpit.

This was the occasion when Rory who was sitting on the torn sail at the stern asked ‘are you at eighty’.  I thought we was inquiring about my limbs and had said ‘are you achey’  ‘Yes I said then had to admit to poor hearing.  Two nights ago we were trying to keep the speed up and Rory had suggested I focus on the digital display above the companion way down into the galley.  ‘I don’t want to worry you Rory’ I said ‘but I can’t see it very clearly!’  Not sure he knew what to say so he said nothing.  I am the oldest on board and it’s beginning to show!

Day 12              Wednesday 19^th May

Up have a good shower (think I almost have the technique cracked) and go up on deck to take over the helm.  There are birds circling over head. Shearwaters again and that’s got to be a good sign.  The rain starts and there is a big swell and strong wind.

I’m trying to hold to a course looking at the compass.  Rory assures me that I should just watch the bows and ‘feel the boat’ and steer accordingly.  To reinforce this he covers the compass so I can’t see it.  Chicken soup comes up from the galley and is very welcome.  We are about 36 hours out from Horta (that’s if the wind holds and we maintain our speed) and news comes over the radio that there has been a small earthquake in the Azores!!

I am tired as we come off watch and go for a lie on my bunk.  Everywhere is damp including clothes and bedding.  Guess it could be worse.  The weather stops everyone, but the watch going on deck, so most of the crew are lying on bunks asleep or reading – nowhere else to go! We are all ready to get a break in Horta and our feet on dry land so as well as the drizzle there is a slight depression hanging over the boat.

Thinking loads and loads about Ann.  Above the birds circle the mast as they soar effortlessly.

Latter the rain stops and the dolphins return.  They are wonderful and stay a long time.  I cook with Kate – pasta and chirito sausages.  That’s what we are down too and tomorrow may be just pasta and sauce!  After supper we are on early evening watch which means we will have a break (during which I couldn’t seem to sleep) and then back on watch in time for the dawn.

Day 13 Thursday 20^th May

Beautiful red sky as the sun comes up and the dolphins are back. 

 The rain isn’t far away but the rumour is that we will make Horta by this afternoon.  I retire to my bunk for a rest and the rain sets in.  Nowhere to go so we hang around the companion way.  Mark is up and about and wants some cleaning started.  Lots of Lysol sprayed and heads cleaned.  Tea towels still really scaffy and are the weak link in any semblance of hygiene.

I start to sort out dirty clothes for washing.  The rumour is that a little man will appear on the dock in Horta and take away a bundle returning them washed and ironed.  Think of Ann and will ring as soon as we dock.  I managed to get my phone charged yesterday so it’s all ready.  Progress into Horta is slow.  Rain++ and lunch is on the go.

Then the island comes into view through the mist and rain.  Round the headland and you can just make out the harbour wall.  We are all on deck in our wet weather gear but the rain still trickles down your arms and neck.  We start to take down the sails and fold the mainsail over the boom.  Mark starts the engine and we motor into the harbour to find both Isis and Diana there already.  They had arrived last evening just 40 seconds apart.  It takes a long time to dock.  Mark goes off with the passports to tell the harbour master we have arrived and we tidy up the sails, put the cover on the mainsail and the awning across the cockpit.  We have to cross the other two boats to reach the quay and then about five o’clock we can wander up to ‘Peters’ the famous bar that more than lives up to its name. 

Great place crammed with sailors from big and little boats modest ones and boats worth tens of millions!  Pete, who is tee-total, is first to the bar and buys Mark Rory and us a round of beers.  I settle down to a plate of Tiger prawns and we are set for the evening.  I’m back at the boat before the beer takes my legs but Rory is still in the bar and returns completely hammered but at the same time in a mellow mood alternating between vituperation and ‘I love you’. He gets disorientated in the night and tries to clamber into bed with Marcus and that becomes a running joke for the whole of the second leg.

So after 13 days and 2300 nautical miles we are back on land.  My brain doesn’t seem to have quite adjusted and for the next week I am unsteady and so are several other members of the crew.

Azores

We had spent just over a week in Horta in the Azores.  This to replenish the boat and for our three crew members, who were to take the Ocean master exam in Portsmouth, to do the five day preparatory course, here in the Azores.

There were showers at the end of the Quay – two Euros for as much hot water as you needed but after one day I move to the Hotel du Canal and have a comfortable bed and bath.  We eat together as a crew (or at least part of the crew) on most nights, in various restaurants, so very much stayed together.  Quite a bit of time was spent in Peters Bar/Cafe where both beer and gin and tonic were cheap.  It was an enforced stay for the examinees.  I would have rather pushed on for home but it was as they say ‘all part of the experience’

On the last evening we were all together for an excellent meal in the restaurant with table clothes!  Carol and Rhonda had flown home since they had only ever come for the one leg.  We were joined by Alistair who was a seasoned sailor and great chap and by George from Bulgaria Pauline from UK and Martin from Prague.

Day 1 Friday 28^th May

We had loaded food and diesel yesterday.  I had checked out of the hotel yesterday so woke up on the boat after not a very good sleep back in my high bunk.  Off to an 8.00am shower and double espresso in the nearby internet cafe.

It is very overcast and trying to rain.  No one is very sure what is happening but the four skippers are meeting to discuss whether to go today or to wait for better weather.  I went off with Marcus and Tony to finish our painting on the quay.  It is a long wide quay and all boats that arrive are allowed to paint a picture or plaque of their boat on the wall of quayside.  Some were very elaborate.  All gave the story of the journey whether around the world voyage or down from Norway, over from America, off to the Mediterranean or over to Brazil.  There must have been five or six hundred such paintings and Tony had taken it on himself to put our stamp on Horta Marina.

Back at the boat Pete’s wife was there to wave us off and promised to ring Ann on Sunday.  Marcus and I sensed a few minutes before the off, so shot up to Peters Bar for a gin and tonic and cheese sandwich before we left – rang Ann then onto the boat.

 All set to go …but there is some problem with paying the harbour fees and that takes a call to head office and half an hour’s delay.  The rain starts so we are all in wet gear and because we will all be on deck sorting the sails etc – lifejackets.  We motor into the middle of the harbour and turn off the engine.  The wind has got up and the boat is turning while we take it in turns to ‘sweat’ up the very heavy mainsail. There is a BANG and a sheet falls to the deck.  Later we find out it is the second reefing point so let’s hope the weather does not turn so bad that we need to reef the sail.  Not the reassuring start I was looking for.  The wind remained strong but we got up the foresail without mishap.  Rory steered us past the end of the next island, very close to a bunch of rocks sticking out from the shore.

  We took the first watch – Rory, George, Pete and me.  About two miles out we passed a square rigger – maybe bound for the Mediterranean but no one is sure.

A sort of bolognaise with rice for supper.  Then a short snooze and it’s our watch again at midnight.  I had a chat to George who is an architect and an assistant professor who does quite a lot of teaching and sails chartered yachts with his family, usually in the Mediterranean around Greece.  Pete has not as yet quite settled back into the movement of the boat but will before long.

I had a good time on the helm and then made tea for the next watch coming on at 3.00am.  Rory seems to trust us more and now often disappears below deck when we are on watch.

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