And finally

Almost done now but to prove that I did do something at times, I'll leave you with a few pictures of me in 'action'.

After our arrival in Horta we spent two days there after which Eric and I took the ferry to Pico Island and from there we flew to Saõ Miguel. Both islands were beautiful. Pico namely because the stark contrast between the bright green colour of the vines (they make their own wine) and the black of the lava stone. Pico is also known for its cheese. We think it is a yummy cheese indeed.

Saõ Miguel is a much larger vulcanic island. It is very green (sometimes just like Devon) and seems to have a mixture of everything, from jungle to hot springs and from rugged, vulcanic rock formations to lush, green meadows.

we decided to rent a car for one day and visited Sete Cidades (the blue and green lake) and some hot, smelly springs. It is a beautiful Island, as you can see.

our feathered friend

Meet our feathered friend. It was a house-martin and he/she had been following the boat for a few hours, somewhere mid-Atlantic, when we were still days away from Horta. I had gone outside a few times to let it know that we were friend and not foe but to no avail. Later though, it must have thought that enough was enough and it was time for a rest and shelter from the storm.

Marja and I were in the wheelhouse when the little creature just flew through the 'flap-hatch' and as Marja lifted her hand, it settled on her finger and started to twitter happily at us. It looked like it was saying....Phew that was a tough day. I lost my flock, but hey-ho, I made it. So how did you guys do? Anything to eat or drink around here?

Straight away, the two of us turned into doting mothers, cooing over this little, round, fluffy ball of happiness.

The guys heard us, popped their heads around the door and (two of them) transformed into tough guys (slight, green tinge there too, I think), looking at this little object of our desire with disdain and uttering words like...Well he won't last long. He'll be dead before morning.

Birdy, didn't seem to notice any of this and decided that the head of cool-dude-Anton, who was with his cool-dude-mates, watching a cool-dude-film in the luxury lounge downstairs, was the ideal place to settle for the night!

It was the cutest thing I had seen in a long time. There was Anton watching the film with a look of concentration, while 'fluffball' was making himself comfortable on Anton's head. Later, it settled on my shoulder, under my hair (it should have been a parrot) and fell asleep. Regretfully, I could not let it stay there and go to bed at the same time so we tried to make it as comfortable as possible. I'm afraid though that the boys were proven right and the next morning we had to give our friend a 'sea burial'.

From plotting to shooting (the sun)

For those of you, who would like to know where we were during those two weeks, this is the course we sailed (created by Dick).

Several days away from Horta, the wind had caused some damage to the radar which needed to be repaired. Although it is hard to see in the pictures, the seas were quite rough but Michel (always up for a challenge) decided to climb the mast anyway and, with some help from the troops, he got the radar working again.

It was great to have the radar working again. It makes life a lot easier but Marja and Michel had asked Eric, before we left Holland, if he could show them how to navigate using a sextant (just is case). He had brought his books and notes and took to teaching the others (incl. Bas and Anton) like a duck to water. There was a lot of preparing, teaching, calculating, 'shooting the sun' and giggling involved.

As a token of appreciation, the group had made a certificate for Eric and handed it over to him, together with a typical Horta-present (miniature whale made of bone) on our last day together. Anton spoke a few kind words and mushy me got all weepy.

Summary + pictures

Okay, here are some pictures with short stories.

First I want to quickly mention everyone who took part in this adventure.

There were Marja and Michel. They are basically in charge of the Ithaka and everything that comes with it. The way those two run the Ithaka-business has impressed me a lot.

Don't think for one minute that this is an easy-peasy job that they've taken on (on the contrary).

Then there were the two 'cool-dude brothers' Anton and Bas. And then finally Eric and I made six. Except for me, most of the people in this group have either known each other for a long time or sailed together before. They're a friendly lot and I'm glad to have met them.

Here we all are in café Peter Sport (picture above). This is where most sailors end up after arrival in Horta on the Island of Faial (Azores). Desperate for a nice cold lager, we had wobbled up hill after we had cleaned the boat and downed some champagne to celebrate our arrival after almost 13 days of non stop sailing.

As I had mentioned before the sailing had been pretty amazing. (Eric on out 1st day)

We had a lot of sunshine and although there had been days with quite a lot of wind (with some strong gusts) and some big waves there were also days of calm sailing, sitting outside with a book, catching the sun, chatting and ...fishing!

The first time we caught a fish, Michel managed to reel in a Dorado, which was then knocked for six with a hammer and gutted within minutes. The Dorado itself had been pretty busy himself as you can see in the picture and ended up in a nice fisherman's pie cooked by Bas.

We also caught some tuna. Two at the same time. Eric was manning one fishing rod with Marja, Michel and Anton handled the other one and Bas was wielding the hammer.

All I could think as I was watching the slaughter was....

Man! One minute you're swimming, the next minute you're sushi!

Literally. The whole process took about one hour, which included placing the tuna in the freezer to kill off any possible parasites. Marja made a fantastic soya sauce and we even had some wasabi to go with it. Luxury Galore.