Month: April 2023

A fellow friend on the dock complained just the other day: “why bother making all these new friends when you know you’re never going to see them again?” It’s true, there’s quite a few new friends we’ve made that we won’t see again, so why do we do it?

Friendships amongst cruisers tend to be fast and intense. It often starts with a nod and smile on the dock or a wave in the anchorage. You notice someone that needs help and you have just the right tool or at least a hand to lend. You start talking and find that you share a common lifestyle that many others don’t understand. You’ve had some of the same hardships and many of the same life pleasures.

And amidst all this we are so different. We’re from different countries: Sweden, Denmark, Netherlands, Germany, Portugal, Britain, France, even Russia and the US. We’re different ages: Our group of friends this season ranged from age 13 to 88. We’ve had different life experiences; from sailing with a family, to losing a loved one, newbies in the cruising community or those who have done it for decades. We have a myriad of health issues that have taught us adaptability.

And we learn from one another. We share stories and emotions. We’re there to lend an ear when someone needs to vent, or whatever else we can do to help. Tools and technical advice are certainly free-flowing. We share travel advice from the places we’ve been to those who haven’t gone yet. We share a glass or two of wine and learn about one another. In this day and age of divisiveness we come together as new friends. And maybe we won’t see many down the road. But we will see some. And we will stay in touch. Because these are the people who have touched us so.

After an overwhelming goodbye from our friends at the marina, we cast off the lines and eased our way out of the slip. (With an old heavy boat and small engine, we hate navigating around marinas, but Trip was master of the wheel.).

We had cleared out earlier in the day with Immigration, so we have a stamp in our passport that shows we’ve officially left Portugal. This is important to note, as Americans can only spend 90 days (in a rolling 180 day period) in most of Europe. We are allowed to transit, which is what we’re doing now. We’re just 7 miles east of Lagos in Portimao. We’re at anchor, and will not go ashore. We’ll hop down the coast this way, till the weather is good enough for us to cross the Strait of Gibraltar and enter Morocco via Tangiers. The time we spend in transit, and the time we spend in Africa will not count against our Schengen days (named after the city where the border treaty was signed). And thus begins the 2023 Schengen Shuffle!

Update: there are only 12 boats or so in this anchorage and 3 of them are Tayana 37’s! I posted this entertaining fact on Bob Perry’s FaceBook fan page (he’s the designer of the T37) and he nominated me as an ambassador to boost his fan page membership….😁

Despite all our work last fall, there were still new things that came up this spring. Some were small, like going up the backstay and re-doing the bracket for the man overboard pole. Others were a bit more significant, such as reattaching the transmission cable (so glad Trip had suggested firing up the engine just to test things out in the slip!). Then there was the frozen pull on the dinghy outboard (glad Trip likes to row). We’re ignoring the problems with the slow toilet till we run out of other things to solve and will then delve into that mess.

And we’re already thinking ahead to later this season. Med-style mooring involves backing into a slip. There are usually no finger pontoons (the little docks that run the partial length of the boat). We can’t back in due to the amount of hardware hanging off our stern: Low slung davits for the dinghy, and the wind vane block any means of us getting off or on the boat from the stern, so that leaves the bow. Our bowsprit rides pretty high (shoulder height I would say), so it’s not a matter of simply climbing up. Friends who have already sailed the Nordic countries with a boat that has similar issues showed us their folding stainless steel ladder – they can even climb aboard with their dog! For now we’ve created something by hanging a temporary boarding ladder off the bowsprit with the help of a step stool on the dock. It’s been pointed out that once we get into the Med we’ll see more chandleries equipped with these boarding tools to make our lives easier, and by the end of the season we’ll have it figured out.

I have no idea what triggered it (hopefully nothing from my favorite farmers market), but we were out Thursday with friends when the fever began. I had chills all night, followed by three days of not wanting to stray far from a bathroom. It’s miserable being sick in another country where things just aren’t familiar. Trip was concerned by Sunday and talked about heading to a hospital the next day. I went over to the next pontoon, where sailing friend Lisa happens to be a nurse. It’s such a relief to speak bluntly about symptoms and get an opinion from someone you trust. She gave me a probiotic, and reassured me that if I felt good enough to walk to the market, I would be fine and to let it run its course. Since then, every day has been a little bit better, and I’m looking forward to meals like the one below again.

Trip’s niece Madeleine and friend Allison only had a few days when they came to visit us, so we made the most of it and gave them a whirlwind tour of Lagos!

They came in via bus from Lisbon (with a slight mishap of getting off one stop early), so we collected them, dropped their gear off at the boat, and headed into town, We wandered out as far as Potato Beach (named for the days when fishermen and farmers would barter, often for potatoes) and then in and out of the rambling streets and alleys of town. We had a late lunch with lots of seafood, we met Lotta & her daughter Susanna for drinks and we wound up back on the boat for appetizers and drinks to finish up the evening (the girls passed out like tired puppies in the cockpit).

Monday, family friend Theresa came over and we all headed to Meia Praia (Beautiful Beach). The beach goes on for miles, and we walked the entire length and back, stopping for lunch at one of the many fun beach bars. There was lots of shell collecting done, lots of catching up, and only a little bit of avoiding the nude sunbathers at the one end of the beach. The town has put in beautiful walkways to protect the dunes, which make it even easier to get around.

Then it was back to the boat for a shower, some apps at one of the Marina pubs, and then off to Monday night darts at McCabes with fellow cruisers.

Tuesday we took one of the little local boats to tour the grottoes on the other side of town.

The grottoes are sandstone cliffs that have slowly eroded and worn away, leaving hidey holes and tiny beaches up and down the coast. I was rather grateful for a calm sea state, as well as a talented skipper who guided us in and out of the caves.

After the boat tour, we took a cab out to Praia Camilo, where we sat with a drink and just enjoyed the view. Thanks to more public walkways, we could walk along the cliffs, descending when we got to Praia Dona Ana and exploring from the edge of the beach. You can climb over and under parts of the sandstone that have worn away to give you access to the next little cove, some of which might disappear at high tide.

We grabbed lunch at a local beach bar, and then wandered back from the beaches into town to do a little shopping before heading out for our final dinner.

We saw the girls off Wednesday afternoon, and then it was back to cleaning, reorganizing, laundry and a well deserved nap! It was great having them here even for the little time that they had. Theresa came back on Saturday with her husband Rick, and we had a leisurely stroll through the farmers market, then came back to the boat, where we had lengthy conversations about all the challenges of living abroad on the fly (SIM cards for cell phones, to immigration bureaucracies, to keeping or seeking a home back in the US, etc.). Needless to say it was nice to have kindred spirits to kvetch to!

We’re back! After several months at home working, cleaning, plus whirlwind visits with friends and family, we flew back to Portugal at the end of March. First off was time with Mads and Lotta, who were kind enough to let us stay with them while we turned the boat back into something we could live on once again. We dove into the tasks of unpacking, filling the water tanks, airing out all the clothing and linens that had been packed away, installing the new batteries (were able to donate the old ones to friends who will be using them to power an electric fence or a water pump up in the mountains!), washing the boat, and generally cleaning things up. No matter how well we store things away, it always takes a few days. Linens always smell a bit stale, no matter how freshly laundered and zipped up in compression bags. A bit of mildew always forms, despite the regular airing that Mads gave over the winter, and of course there was a fine layer of dust on both the outside and inside.

In between bouts of cleaning, there were lots of trips to the farmers market and the local stores. You can only buy what you can carry, but the exercise is always nice (one of the things I really missed while back in New Jersey was the ability to walk to run errands). My lists were usually a mix of daily needs plus long term cruising supplies. The one advantage we have this season is that we don’t have any extensive, long passages planned, so will pretty much be able to provision as we go along. There’s an additional incentive not to over provision – this season promises to be some of the best eating, with Spain and Italy on the docket.

And in between it all, time to catch up with old and new friends. The live-aboard community here is a delightful one. We’ve had the chance to try Qi Gong, meet up with fellow sailors for regular happy hours, play darts at a local pub, and I even got in an afternoon of paddle boarding (I’m hoping for much more of that this season).