Rough going. For a little while. A favorable weather window had presented itself, and we had taken advantage of it. Praia lies at the bottom of Ilha de Santiago. So after leaving port, we turned west to scoot around the bottom of the island. Slowly we pointed more and more to the north, a few degrees at the time, staying at a reasonable distance from the island and away from small vibrantly colored fishing boats, following the island’s curve and making our passage to Mindelo on Ilha de Sao Vincente.
We left Praia at 12:30 Friday afternoon. This gave us hours of looking at the coastline of Ilha de Santiago. It is a desolate place. It’s something you imagine the moon to look like or northern Nevada. Rugged to the hilts. (I always compare northern Nevada to the moon.) No wonder ninety percent of the food consumed here needs importing.
I’ve been told there is also no fresh water. All fresh water on the islands is desalinized seawater. That’s expensive. That’s why I have a prepaid ‘water card’ in the marina that needs to be inserted in a point-of-sale reader to get water in the shower. Any water, hot or cold, no difference, two euro cents per liter.
Ken had decided on the route. Instead of sailing straight to Ilha de Sao Vincente and then having to go around the island and potentially set ourselves up for some nasty weather between Vincente and Ilha de Santo Antao, Vincente’s neighboring island to the west, Ken decided to approach Vincente from the north. To do that, we had to go between two other islands, Ilha de Sao Nicolau, a good size island, and Ilheu Razo, just a tiny uninhabited piece of rock.
What a nightmare. When close to land, or between land and islands, or just between islands by themselves, all weather forecasts and predictions go out of the window. Here are free-flowing winds and waves that suddenly encounter a massive obstacle. Suddenly wave patterns are altered, winds are funneled, and we find ourselves in the middle. All of Saturday night, we bounced on the waves, taking more water over the bow than needed to fill an Olympic size swimming pool. At times we actually could swim in the cockpit. All the while trimming and changing sails every five minutes or so.
Going to sleep is next to impossible. Not just because of the weather but also because we’re only two nights at sea, the body doesn’t get into a rhythm in such a short time. However, lying in my berth is painful. I thought it was just me, having a sore neck and sore shoulder muscles, but Ken and Maaike experienced the same discomforts. Obviously, this actively trying to stay attached to the mattress while lying down is for the birds.
The moment we got north of the more significant island, life became beautiful again. It stayed that for the rest of the night until after we had crossed above Vincente and had to sail down between Vincente and Santa Antao to get to Mindelo. Then, big seas slammed across the boat again, but only for a couple of hours this time.
In the Sunday early morning hours, in the pitch dark, we’re sailing into port. I don’t particularly appreciate getting somewhere in the dark, especially when the charts say there are sunken ships around the harbor, and not necessarily marked. This is Africa, I know. We slowly headed for the marina in the southeast corner of the harbor, holding up flashlights to see these derelicts if they happened to be in our way. We anchored just outside of the marina, had a glass of wine, and went to bed to wake up the next morning to see an overturned hull from a derelict fishing boat not more than thirty meters away. And that’s why I don’t particularly appreciate getting somewhere in the dark.
The marina is really nice, secure, and right in the center of town. Excellent shower facilities, a floating bar & restaurant. However, once again, a vegan diet is frowned upon or not thought about, and little vegan fare is found on the menu. Actually, none, but French fries. Expected.
After we spent the night at anchor, we called the marina on the radio in the morning and secured a berth. Not that it is very busy. But we were the only yacht in Praia, and now we’re one of the dozens.
One of the yachts near us is named Quetzal, a 1987 47-foot Kaufman owned by John Kretschmer. Kretschmer is a well-known personality in the sailing world. He has written several books, holds workshops on all aspects of sailing, and teaches foul-weather sailing on board Quetzal on multi-day voyages. I had read on the internet that one of the chain plates, securing part of the ground tackle, securing the mast to the boat, had failed. And that’s why the top half of the mast was missing. Nobody on board though.
Today my ‘water card’ that also opens the central gate to the marina didn’t work. I went into the office and had it fixed. Just like a hotel key card. Ken had initially paid for a week, and we’ve been here a week, and the card expired. No big deal. With my fixed card, I walked to the gate, where a man also seems to be unable to open the gate. John Kretschmer.
All repairs are pretty well done. Our GPS unit wasn’t working correctly. That has been fixed, which should end our autopilot steering problems. Time will tell. The autopilot linkage system has a new bearing, all good, and the man that fixed that also fixed the generator. A clogged injector. We knew that was the problem, but we had no spare, and it is not an item a layperson should mess about with. We filled up with diesel, and we are connected to water. Just insert the card.
Tomorrow we plan to rent a couple of scooters and roam the island.