Island Life

Despite a turbulent start to our time in the Madeira Archipelago, looking back I can now safely say that it is truly one of the most incredible places that I have ever visited. It has been on my bucket list for some time but I hadn’t anticipated how much it would take my breath away. Our time in Madeira was also the first time that we had really been able to settle into one place for a couple of weeks without having to chase weather windows. We’d left the cold and frustrating low-pressure systems behind us on the continent

The Golden Island

One of the joys of blue water sailing is the people that you meet and the camaraderie that a life defined by the weather brings. The harbour in Porto Santo had a few mooring balls, these were highly sought after given the less than favourable anchoring conditions at our time of arrival. Being peak season, it was a bit of a race to get on one when someone left. Luckily, we had caught up with a lovely French family that we had first met in Figueira de Foz and they kindly dropped us a text when they were about to leave the mooring they were on. This gave us time to motor into the harbour and linger near them so that we could pick up the ball with anyone beating us to it. We were elated, it meant sleep would come a little easier and we could properly explore. We had also been told by an American sailor that the ground tackle was good as he’d seen a large boat weather a storm on it, settling our minds even more.

We hadn’t actually heard of Porto Santo before this trip and we weren’t sure what to expect, but out first Atlantic Island did not disappoint. Porto Santo is often referred to as the Golden Island, and for good reason – its picture-perfect golden beach stretches for miles. Desperate to stretch our legs and to continue our walking holiday we walked its entire length, taking breaks to slip into the warm turquoise water to cool off. We also discovered the traditional Madeiran bread that became a staple during our time on the Archipelago, it is often sold from stalls with garlic butter, cheese and chorizo. A perfect refuel. The rest of our time on Porto Santo was spent walking, cycling and mopedding around the island in search of the best views.

To our delight, the island also delivered waves. We hadn’t expected to surf on Porto Santo, waves are not something that its famous for. But, one morning on our walk along the beach to pick up a moped, the anchorage that we were thankfully now not in, looked decidedly uncomfortable as the boats rose up and over the swell lines. The waves were mostly unsurfable, but a pier in the town looked to be providing enough of a feature that might just help the waves break into something rideable. The swell was forecast to be bigger the next day so we decided to wait to try our luck. The following morning, Ben came back from a surf check declaring that there was something surfable and that a Dutch couple we’d met were keen to come along for a surf and claim the waves of Porto Santo.

As we arrived at the pier, the surf looked decidedly flat and our new friends were looking at us slightly confused. Ben, ever the optimist said that we all had to get in anyway, keen not to be proven wrong. Proven wrong he was not. We shared an hour of small, fun, peeling longboard waves and celebrated our first surf without a wetsuit, Island life was in full swing and the endless summer was definitely heating up

A short hop to Madeira

It was hard to say goodbye to Porto Santo, the island had a welcoming, slow pace and pretty much everything you could need. It was easy to see why some boats had been there for weeks. But Madeira was calling and I couldn’t wait to spend some time in greenery again, what we now refer to as my need for vitamin G. We left Porto Santo around 0900 on Sunday 2nd October, with the wind behind us, we rigged up our Atlantic downwind sail plan, minus the poles to check we were still happy with everything. We had a good sail with the double headsails before the wind swung and eventually dropped and we motored our way to the anchorage on the Eastern end of Madeira. This time, the anchorage was perfect and we spent a happy afternoon and night snorkelling, swimming and relaxing.

The anchorage was near the start of one of the most popular walks on the island, Vereda da Ponta de Sao Lourenco. We set out on the very hot walk and climb to the eastern end of the island and were rewarded with sweeping panoramic views. I was itching with excitement to see more. That afternoon we motored round to the marina and booked a hire car to continue our Madeiran adventure.

The Pearl of the Atlantic

Before we had the hire car, we took the bus from the marina into Funchal and spent the day wondering around the streets, old town, beaches and visiting the numerous intricately decorated cathedrals. Even being in the city, it felt like we had arrived in tropical paradise, particularly after the bus journey where banana plantations were present at every turn. Being a sucker for tropical fruit we also explored the market and succumbed to our first tourist trap at the fruit stall. After tasting all of the unheard-of varieties of passion fruit, mango, banana and melon and deciding to buy some to take home, we were charged an extortionate amount of money for the fruit we had chosen. Later on, we found a stall on a street corner selling the same fruit for half the price.

The following day we picked up our hire car and with only three days to explore the island by car we decided to do one Levada walk (Levada’s are irrigation channels built to transport water from the mountain to the lower agricultural areas), conquer the highest peak on the island and spend a day driving around to soak in the as much of the island as we could.

Levada do Caldeirão Verde and Caldeirão de Inferno

Finally, we were in the depths of the Madeira jungle. I don’t think I can describe how I felt as we walked out of the car park, onto the trail and into the trees. In a way, my mind and body just felt like it was home and any tension that had built whilst sailing just slipped away. The walk was a 19km out and back route that follows a Levada to the head of a canyon. The Levada winds its way along the side of a mountain providing impressive views of the lush green forests, rugged mountains and enchanting waterfalls. It was easy to forget how high up we were and that the Levada’s had been skillyfully cut into the face of the mountains, the dense vegetation obscuring what lay below. However, a quick look down in areas with less vegetation reminded us that we were at times, very much on the edge of a vertical drop.

Madeira also has a lot of tunnels and along this Levada the tunnels had been built where it was simply too steep to cut them into the side of the mountain, so instead of going round, they went through. Some tunnels are so long that you can’t see the light on the other side, others require a stooped stance to avoid cracking your head and there was one particularly nerve-wracking long tunnel that sounded like we were about to enter the middle of the earth as the sound of a nearby waterfall reverberated throughout. Everything about the walk was truly beautiful and we couldn’t get over the skill and endurance that must have gone into making the thousands of miles of Levada’s. We had also learnt that many lives were lost in the process and it wasn’t hard to see why.

Road Tripping Our driving tour of the island was equally as spectacular as the Levada walk. Our agenda was mostly to see if we could find waves, a search that often leads to some pretty special places. The search was fruitless, but it did take us on a good adventure. Our first stop was Paul do Mer, a tranquil fishing village with the clearest water that we had seen so far. On it’s day, the surf here is supposed to be some of the best on the island but today was not the day. After contemplating if it was actually surfable we instead opted for lunch out, a treat that we don’t do very often. We enjoyed a perfect lunch of mussels in orange juice and calamari, some of the best food we’d eaten in a while in the most incredible location. Over lunch we vowed that we would come back to Madeira and I was starting to wonder if I would ever be able to leave.

After lunch we headed over the hills to the north side of the island, through the Eucalyptus plantations, into the clouds and over the vast moorland. The road down took us on a seat clenching, hair pin road, where buses race round the corners in the middle of the road, not wanting to lose speed. Ben and I can get through a lot of difficult situations together, but it would appear, driving along hair pins roads causes many arguments. The north side of the island is much wetter and cooler than the south and leaves you feeling as if you’ve walked straight into the set of a Jurassic Park film. We stopped to check out a few potential surf spots, but nothing was delivering and we finished the day winding our way back to marina - up, down and along more hair pin bends, each turn providing us with new views of the coastline, mountains and villages.

Pico do Arieiro to Pico Ruivo

This walk is one of the most famous routes on the island and I was a little bit apprehensive about how busy it could be, we’d read about long queues in tunnels and at narrow sections. Our conclusion was that it must be busy for a reason and not worth missing out on just because we don’t like being around people when walking. The walk connects the two highest peaks on the island and can only be described as truly magical. The path winds its way from the top of the third highest peak above the clouds and into the depths of the mountains. As we journeyed through the mountains, we now felt like we were in the set of The Lord of the Rings and on a journey into middle earth as we ventured into tunnels, crept along narrow paths and took stairs that led to myth like viewpoints. A ridiculiously steep staircase, bolted into the side of the mountain took us through a gap and onto the side of Pico do Ruivo and we began our ascent to the summit. After a gruelling climb in the midday sun, we eventually made it to the peak and cooled off, soaking in the atmosphere of sitting above the clouds. And, as travelling isn’t travelling without bumping into someone you know in random places, I heard someone saying my name and turned around to see an old friend from university. It is a small world after all (although I might not be thinking the same thing after three weeks in the Atlantic Ocean).

The walk back followed the same route but gave an entirely different perspective. The clouds were now lower and cascaded through the gaps in the peaks, adding to the otherworldly atmosphere of the landscape. In our excitement, we had forgotten about the many stairs we had descended at the start. The final ascent back to Pico do Arieiro was a painstaking calf burn back into the clouds and up the stair way to heaven. The views just didn’t stop. Back at the top of Pico do Arieiro we rewarded ourselves with a traditional sandwich and gingerly walked the last km back to the car. Not content with the exercise we had already done, we finally managed to find a wave and Ben jumped up in the water for a quick surf.

In between exploring the island, we spent time swimming, meeting new people and catching up with friends that we had met along the way. We had dinner with some French Canadians who served up Tuna steak that they had caught in the Azores, Ben went spear fishing with Julien from the French boat we had been following and we spent five days enjoying fresh fish that both Julien and Ben had caught and were gifted some more tuna steak. Every day we spent in Madeira felt enchanting and I now encourage everyone to put it at the top of their travel list. If we didn’t sail any further, I don’t think I would have been disappointed. But, the Canaries were calling and a good weather window had arrived to help us continue south.

A passages of breakages

On Sunday 9th October we left Madeira for Lanzarote, a reasonably short passage of 280nm. Once out of the lee of the islands, we hoisted the asymmetric and were flying towards Lanzarote making 7 knots. After some fun sailing, the wind picked up and we were overpowered with the asymmetric in around 18 knots of wind. As we went to drop the sail, the furling line snapped and so began a passage of breakages. Over the course of the two-day passage, we lost the hatch to the galley, ripped off overnight by the flogging of the jib sheet. Without the asymmetric light wind sailing was pretty uncomfortable. As the wind shifted to dead downwind, we went to pole out the genoa but, in the process, the mast runner for the pole broke. Frustratingly we were now without any of our downwind/light wind sails.

During the day, we also heard a bolt drop onto the deck. Not a noise that you want to hear. The bolt jumped ship and after checking over the rigging we couldn’t work out where it had broken free from. After a mini squall, as we approached Lanzarote and the edge of the acceleration zone, we went to reef the main. The wind was already up to 18-20knots and the wind can increase by 15-20 knots in the Wind Acceleration Zones so we wanted to be prepared. We released the main sheet to reef and came up into the wind, but one of the cars was jammed and the main just wouldn’t drop. It then clicked, the unidentified missing bolt had fallen out of the car causing the batten to catch on the lower spreader and not run properly. We turned the engine on and headed dead into the wind to quickly reef. The acceleration zones offered little excitement however and the wind we had expected to hit us didn’t fill in. It was still a fruity sail into the marina as we headed round the tip island and upwind, it had been a long time since we’d had the sailed sheeted right in. Luckily, the breakages were all easy relatively easy fixes and we would much prefer them happen prior to the Atlantic.

The Magic of the Moon

This passage also offered us something that had been missing on our previous passages. We had become accustomed to pitch black nights with no clear distinction between sky and sea. But as we headed into the first night, darkness never really came. Instead of being cloaked in darkness, the full moon cast its bright glow across the sky and sea and instead of going into the night anxious I relished the hours ahead. As Ben went to sleep, I put my sailing playlist on, sat back and thought how lucky I am to be experiencing a night at sea like this. This was the magic of the moon. The sunrise watch offered similar scenes of radiance, as the sun started to take over the night sky, I had the pleasure of watching the sun rise from one side of the boat and the moon, not wanting to be outdone by the smoulder of the sun, glowed on the other.

Whilst we were lost in the magic of the sea and the moon, we also faced a harsh reality that taking to the sea isn’t always a choice made to fulfil yearnings of adventure. As we sailed within VHF range of the Canaries, Pan Pan, after Pan Pan came through on the radio asking all vessels to keep a good watch out for migrant boats. These small wooden boats had 40-60 people on them each, with each Pan Pan, there was a slightly solemn feeling on board as we considered how we might all be in the same sea but we are certainly not in the same boat.

The Canary Islands

The Canary Islands are our launch pad for the Atlantic. Although, having been to Fuerteventura a few times, I wasn’t particularly looking forward to our time there. I’ve always found the lack of greenery bleak and depressing, the wind maddening and the surf distinctly average. I had to remind myself that it was this wind that would hopefully give us our downwind sleigh ride to the Caribbean and I was also very eager to be proven wrong about my previous impressions of the Islands. And, as I write this after three weeks here, I might just have to eat my words.