Sailing to the Canaries - With a hard left to Morocco

“Our plans are often a loose interpretation of our intended route. As always, my motto is, as long as we are still alive, still in love, and still afloat, it’s all good. We get wherever we are going when we get there.”

Alison Gieschen

Once again. This played true. Dan finally found a five-day window to sail to the Canary Islands from our anchorage in Puerto Sherry, Spain. It had been almost a year since we did more than a three-night passage as last year we were in the Mediterranean. Most of our destinations could be reached in a few days.

After we spent two summers sailing in the Med, we finally exited through the Straits of Gibraltar, ready to cross back across the Atlantic to the Caribbean. Upon our exit, our autopilot and the gooseneck to our boom broke. These were major repairs so we veered off to Spain to lick our wounds and make repairs. Meanwhile, we got the news that grandbaby number four was due to arrive in July. We would be delaying our departure beyond the repairs as we planned to fly home and welcome baby Ryder to our family.

Six months later, we were back in Spain and finally ready to sail again. We set our sights on the Canaries and headed off with joy in our hearts to be passage-making once again. All four of the forecasting systems Dan uses to predict the weather told us there would be waves less than two meters and wind in the 20-knot range. It seemed the perfect forecast for us to arrive in the Canaries on day five.

Finally Sailing Again

We pulled up anchor and set off. It was a glorious morning. The sun shone brightly, the seas were gently rolling, and the wind was in our favor. That lasted about two hours. The weather predictions were not wrong. The wind was funneling out of the Med from the east, albeit slightly stronger than predicted. However, what couldn’t be predicted was the maelstrom of confused seas. The waves from a storm system from the northwest were sending in rollers that were colliding with the waves being generated from the east.

Strong winds hurtled us forward. Meanwhile, the occasional and unpredictable nine to ten-foot wave pelted us from the side in addition to the rolling waves from behind. Each wave that struck us broadside sent our boat careening back and forth making life quite unpleasant. The water found its way into the cockpit soaking everything. At one point, I watched water pouring from the bulkhead directly into the galley sink. I was fascinated watching a gallon of water pour through our boat and back into the sea. I was thankful it wasn’t pouring onto the floor

Due to the force of the rocking, each one of our ancient drawers holding our silverware, cooking utensils, and spices, gave way, one by one. We would hear a crash, look down, and see the drawer and its contents strewn across our cabin. The latches on the drawers were no match for the force of the waves knocking us on our side. After the third door shot across the cabin, I went below and took out the last drawer, and stowed it under our table.

Battling the motion of the boat to secure that last door was the straw that broke the camel’s back in my battle with my growing nausea. I succumbed to the inevitable and had to retreat to the bedroom to begin my relationship with the commode. It was the first time I had vomited on a passage since we began our circumnavigation. This was not the beginning of our first passage in two years that I was hoping for.

Uncertainties AKA Uncertain Seas

Our first night was rough, probably one of the top three roughest nights in our five years of sailing. The wind stayed stronger than predicted, and the waves eventually became more even and began to settle into a more comfortable rhythm. By day three, both the wind and the waves had all but died. We had to turn on the motor and motor sail.

My spirits were brightened by a visit from my guardian angels of the sea, a huge pod of playful dolphins. I’ve never had a pod that size linger for more than an hour. These happy fellows played in our bow and performed for us as we hurtled toward the setting sun. It was a brilliant show and one of the best dolphin experiences we’ve had to date. The calm, however, was the proverbial calm before the next storm and a distraction from what was brewing. As the sun set, Dan looked up the weather and let me know we were in for more rough seas.

Just like our plans are loose interpretations of our actual route, the weather predictions are just that. They are educated guesses about what the weather will actually do. Based on the latest predictions, it seemed the weather was deteriorating despite the rather mild predictions we were counting on when we departed.

Dan gave me a choice. We could sail onward to the Canaries and experience more conditions like those on our first day of sailing. I wasn’t a huge fan of that plan. The second option was to take a hard left. We had been sailing parallel to and about 50 miles off the coast of Africa. We could detour and be safe in port in Morocco in another 24 hours. Thanksgiving was two days away. We could celebrate in port rather than be alone out at sea. It would give us the option to wait there for the weather to improve, then make the final two-day passage to the Canaries.

The weather began to deteriorate rapidly the next morning. We rode giant waves up to the shoreline. We would be turning into a natural harbor and out of the wind. As the waves and wind continued to build, we finally rounded the corner. As soon as we took our left-hand turn, the waves receded, the wind softened, and there was peace. I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

Morocco Light

Our first experience with Morocco (you can read about it: Out of the Med and Into Chaos with a Side of Morocco) was magical. We loved the country, the people, the culture, and just about everything else the city of Tangier had to offer. It was one of the highlights of our voyage thus far.

As we entered the port of Agadir, Morocco, we were 500 miles south of Tangier, but I envisioned the cities would be similar. Our first clue that things were much more relaxed here was when we arrived at the marina and were waiting to be checked into the country by the police and customs officials.

Typically, when you enter a country to check in, you stay on your boat until the officers arrive. It is usually frowned upon to step foot on land until the forms are signed and your passport is stamped. It was about two hours before the officers showed up. We had wandered around the docks and felt there was no urgency to be checked in.

When the officers arrived, they were not wearing the customary stern expressions or sporting down-to-business attitudes. These officers smiled, they admired my herb garden and told me the traditional dishes they used these herbs to prepare. They were kind and pleasant, and checking in was a breeze.

Agadir was very different from Tangier. We noticed a distinctly Westernized atmosphere. All the restaurants had beer and wine, unlike Tangier, and we didn’t hear the prayer songs of any mosques. We saw many people on vacation from a variety of countries. Agadir was a thriving tourist spot with white sand beaches, palm trees, balmy temperatures, and all the tourist shops. There was a lot to see and do in this thriving city. We were greeted like family members by the staff of the restaurants we visited and went back several times just to hang out and chat with our servers. They were delightful.

As we waited for the weather pattern to shift in our favor, we decided to take a day trip to Marrakesh. I can’t say that was a highlight for us. We were told the bus ride would be three hours. It turned out to be four or more. The city was not nearly as spectacular as Tangier and we got trapped in the sprawling city market for most of our visit.

Motorcycles were allowed on the tiny, narrow walkways in the market and you had to constantly dodge them as they drove by recklessly. We were constantly bombarded by people begging for money and they were quite persistent. Between the motorcycles and beggars, you couldn’t walk without looking over your shoulder constantly. We did walk to see a famous palace but it was much less spectacular than those we experienced in Tangier.

We did have a very special dish for lunch. The beef tagine we had was simply amazing. Meat is placed in clay pots and set in hot ashes for six hours. Lunch was the bright spot in our day before sitting on a bus for another four hours to get back to our marina. The desert we drove through was rather dull after the first hour or so. We also passed through the outskirts of the city where hundreds of people were housed in buildings that would be condemned in most other countries. The poverty level around the city was like nothing we had ever experienced.

That being said, it wasn’t our favorite outing but we did learn more about the Moroccan culture and got to see the iconic city of Marrakesh.

Canaries Bound at Last!

We finally got our weather window to sail southwest to the Canary Islands. I had to pinch myself as we departed and raised the sails. Were we finally going to make it there after so many failed attempts? During our stay in the Agadir Marina, we met a lovely brother and sister from England. We made new friends and got their advice as they have been sailing these waters for years. They assured us the sail to the Canaries was a breeze and would take around 48 hours.

We departed just after noon and expected to arrive in the Canaries around noon on day three. Once again, the winds were quite a bit stronger than predicted and the waves were much bigger than expected. We flew like a freight train into the first evening. Despite the weather being rough our boat sailed like a champ, averaging over seven knots. By the middle of the following day, the waves had regulated into large rollers. They were coming in directly behind us and launching us even faster as we rode the wind with our reefed main and staysail.

Dan looked up the latest weather forecast. The wind was supposed to abate to nothing as we approached the islands. It was remaining strong and steady. This was good news and bad news. The good news was that we would be arriving in the Canary Islands 13 hours ahead of schedule. The bad news was, that we would be entering the islands and having to navigate into an unknown harbor and drop anchor in the dead of night. Our arrival time was midnight.

An Unusual Arrival

The moon stayed below the horizon leaving us in total darkness as we approached the islands. Our destination was a small island, Graciosa. We would have to navigate around a large rock just off the coast and through a narrow channel before finding our anchorage.

It was 1:00 Am when we entered the channel. The moon finally rose and cast a ray of pale light across our path. Unfortunately, clouds rolled in and hid our only source of light. We used our GPS and limited vision to find our way into the harbor. A few anchor lights dotted the harbor letting us know there were boats anchored there already. We carefully navigated toward them and stayed well away from the nearest boat when we dropped our anchor in 35 feet of water.

Our anchor held; we exhaled a sigh of relief. We were officially anchored in the Canary Islands. It wasn’t easy, there was no daylight to guide us. However, we never expect ‘easy’ in this lifestyle. We take our reward in accomplishing our goals and appreciate them that much more when we have to work hard to achieve them. Dan celebrated with a shot of whiskey. I passed out on the bed enjoying the fact that I would be sleeping without having to brace myself against a rocking boat.

We knew we would sleep like the dead that night. We had no idea what the next day would bring. What we did know was that we were in for another exciting adventure, we would be exploring new islands, and we finally made it to the Canaries. It was a long wait, and a rough path to get there, but we did it.

Fair winds,
Alison and Dan
S/V/ Equus