We sailed on to the other side of Terceira to catch up with the Boyz from the Double Bruyn. Two years ago I met these pair of good value Quiwis in a boat yard in Florida. They had just bought a boat and were fitting it out to sail across the Atlantic. I bought the boat parked next to them and our adventure together began from there. Along with my cousin Laura we set out with hopes to conquer the world. We were four like minded sea beans in two pods. Over the last tow years our boats have gone on seperate adventures, but we had always kept in contact and not missed a beat. They sailed to the Azores the year before and left their boat there for major repairs. Upon Glory and I's arival in 'Ultima Noche' we happened to turn our VHF Radios just at the same moment as the Double Bryun, and the sound of Jon's voice fired us up like no other.
Sure enough as we weighed anchor John swam out to greet us, but not with out pulling the dinghy gone missing trick, where you untie someones dinghy and float off with it. Its pretty good, but its one of those freak occurances that only seems to happen when he's around, so I am conditioned to look for John, before I go looking for my missing raft. :) Good value though, theres never enough play in this life we live.
We spent days and nights having potlucks and helping them ready the boat for the passage to England. We talked about where we were thinking of going, and we heard thier plans.
After a few days it seemed like we should head to England as well, to do something more challenging with our time. London is full of progressively minded NGO's with plent of opportunity for us to do something cool for a while. We copied maps and made plans to sail with them to England. We danced the nights away in Terceira then set off the same day with plenty of wind for England. A few days into it Glory and I got hit by a true gale that knocked our radar and wind generator tower down. And our third mate Wilson (wind vane paddle)who had gotten us safely half way across the Atlantic was blown to bits. All that remained of a three foot paddle was a three by five inch base. In the peak of the blow we were hove to for a few hours, and then on sea anchor for another six during the lightning. Amaizingly with the sails reefed and hove the boat was calm cool level and comfortable, it was so calm Glory and I went to bed. Sea anchor dind'nt work out as I expected, it seemed to hug the hull rather than drag to windward. We had all the electronics in the oven as lighting squalls were passing, and when we emerged the next morning to a lively sea and overcast day we had still somehow traveled one hundred and sixteen miles. The previous day with a following twenty five knott wind we had made a one hundred and fifty mile day. For Noche that defys the laws of physics. We were outlaws now but we had lost one of our crew and 'Wilson' we are sad to have lost you, but proud of Noche and the radar tower I hate anyway.
So the wind died and as sailors do, we looked at the Atlas and realized stopping in Spain would be freaking cool, so why not (without charts) we headed for Spain. Ha ha I love the sailing life, you can do exactly what you want to do on a day to day basis. We pulled into La Coruna next to our Dutch friend Yella from the Azores and woke him up by zooming around his boat and howling till he and a new lady (Fiona)friend peeked their heads out the hatch!! haha Another Reunion!
Spain!!! The wonderfull world of Spain!!! Cured procuto hanging from the rafters in everyshop, real funky cheeses that will blow your toe jam away, local seafood and Sangria. Thank the heavens we stopped here before we reached the land of blood pudding, bland tea, mushy pees and chips. People out walking the streets, napping mid day, old roman light houses peaking out from old spanish forts and spanish speaking organic farmers selling their goods on every corner. And again we pay nothing to have it in our front yard.
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