A short stint as a guest, Lisbon > Madeira

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A week off! Our sailing friends Kees and Marion are setting off on a round-the-world voyage. I would so love to do another Atlantic crossing, but work is far too busy for me to sail with them from Cape Verde to Suriname. So just a short leg then, from Lisbon to Madeira, to get a brief taste of that ocean-sailing feeling again: the dolphins, the starry skies, life at sea. There are four of us on this leg. André is coming too, but he’s staying on board all the way to Suriname. André is a sailing friend. When I’d crossed the ocean three years ago, he sighed about how much he’d love to do that too, but that his American employer would never allow it. “Have you actually asked?” No. “Why don’t you ask if you can have two months off in two years’ time? That way you’re not putting your boss on the spot, and he knows you’ll be sticking around for another two years.” And sure enough, he got the go-ahead! The next step was finding a boat. And just as Kees once advised me to look for a boat for my ocean dream through the ARC crew database, André and Kees met each other on our boat during a trip to England. Kees and Marion were looking for crew for some of the legs, and André is the kind of sailor you can recommend to anyone and who gets along with everyone. A good sailor and always in a good mood. Wonderful to sail a short stretch together now that his dream voyage is beginning.

At 05:30 on Sunday morning I quietly pull the front door in Kockengen shut behind me. A few hours later I’ll be standing on the quay in Lisbon, and then ’the work’ starts straight away. Merrimac (www.merrimac.nl) is in perfect shape and was already brought from Harlingen to Lisbon this summer. Nothing needs doing to her. Provisions still have to be bought, though, even if the passage to Madeira is only 500 NM and the fast Merrimac will probably do it in under three days. On top of that we of course need to go through the whole boat and agree on (emergency) procedures, watch schedules and house rules. How do we treat each other, even though we’re good friends? Living together in a small space for a long time, or having several captains on one ship, has wrecked many a friendship. It helps that André and I have boats of our own, so we know how protective an owner is of their pride and joy and what the “dos and don’ts” are. This personal side of long-distance sailing is what I find the real challenge, not so much the sailing itself. We can all do that well enough.

At 09:45 I step aboard. I’m bursting with energy, how I love this! Back on the ocean! After breakfast we get to work, and late in the afternoon Kees announces that we’ll be leaving the next day after lunch.

On Monday morning I get to go up the mast for a simple reset of the wind instrument. I enjoy going aloft for the gorgeous view and for ‘abseiling’ back down. At 12 noon, a bit earlier than planned, we cast off. We crawl down the Tagus at a snail’s pace. We have the current against us, but it gives us a chance to enjoy the Lisbon waterfront. Around 15:30 we’re in open water and hoist the sails. There’s a fresh breeze. More than forecast and not quite from the direction we’d like yet. But hey, we did leave a few hours early. It’s bound to improve later. The ocean is a washing machine. Bound to improve later….. Even in deeper water it doesn’t get any better, and before long we’re all seasick or feeling off. A new experience for me, I’d never been seasick before. Fortunately it doesn’t stop us from functioning. After a few hours Merrimac is trimmed just right and we’re flying towards Madeira like an arrow. This is sailing! We stand watches. Some put in a few more hours than others, depending on how seasick they are. We’re getting used to the boat and the vast array of equipment and data. André is still looking a bit green the next morning, but slowly we all perk up. Ginger tea gives us the final nudge. Hardly anyone is eating yet. After 24 hours there’s a record day’s run of 225 NM on the log. Our top speed surfing down an ocean wave is 24 knots, more than 40 km per hour! It’s like the Volvo Ocean Race. We’re beaming with pride. By now the waves have settled into a steady pattern.

On Wednesday morning the sun is shining and the chatter returns. We all sit outside the whole day and I make a couscous salad for lunch. André spots dolphins. Sadly they don’t stick around. We’ve sailed so fast that we’ll arrive at Porto Santo around midnight instead of Thursday morning. In the evening I cook pasta. Our appetites are completely back and we’ve found the rhythm of the ocean. I could keep sailing like this for days, and I’m full of memories of my Atlantic crossing three years ago. This is far too short! I want to keep going!!

Around 00:30 we reach Porto Santo. After a lifetime of sailing I know all about the nervous fumbling and the slightly irritated discussions over which lights we can or can’t see during a night-time arrival; it’s an inescapable part of the deal, so I keep my head down. No ‘is so, is not’ bickering now, that’s one of those unwritten rules. Half an hour later we’re at anchor in the bay next to the harbour. We’ll see tomorrow morning whether there’s room inside. Manoeuvring at night without a bow thruster in a small unfamiliar harbour with a decent breeze blowing is not a good idea. We tidy up a bit and round off this beautiful passage with a few Brouwdok beers before turning in.

On Thursday evening I heat up the leftover pasta. I found it a bit bland the day before, being salt-free, so I decide to add a good teaspoon of sambal and some paprika to liven it up. Now it tastes great. I put the bowls on the table and we start eating. Three pairs of big eyes stare at me, speechless. Silence falls. And then: “What have you done???” Kees loves sambal, but Marion and André can barely handle it. The jar of sambal I used is brought to the table. The label clearly shows 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥. I taste a tiny bit off the tip of a knife. Hmmm, nice. A moment later my lower lip is on fire. André does some research, and it turns out the sambal is made from Trinidad Scorpions, the second-hottest pepper in the world. We’re howling with laughter. Kees and I have a bit more, it’s rather moreish. By the end of the evening we know everything there is to know about the world’s hottest peppers. The tears are streaming down our cheeks.

On Friday at 8 o’clock we set sail for Madeira itself. It’s a glorious five-hour sail under full canvas. We savour every minute. Berthing in the marina with a strong crosswind but no bow thruster goes flawlessly, even though the speed at which the harbour master operated meant we hadn’t prepared properly, and the quay wall was treacherously high. It shows that we’re all experienced sailors who can not only sail but also manoeuvre and work together as a team when it really counts. That too is pure joy.

Sadly, it’s almost over for me now. On Monday evening I fly from Amsterdam to Manila for work, so early on Sunday morning I have to pack up and go. We spend all of Saturday touring the western part of Madeira in a rental car. How beautiful it is here! In the evening we finish up with friends of Kees and Marion in…….

And there we are, Marion and I, at 05:30 on Sunday morning. In our rental car in front of the marina gate. Which won’t open. No way of getting it to budge, no intercom. We don’t have much time. I try climbing over the gate, but once I’m on top I realise I’ll never get back in once I’m on the other side. Not a good idea, then. We drive the car back and forth a few times and press every button. Not a millimetre of movement. Suddenly, somewhere behind us, we hear a deep male voice with a sort of Russian accent. A security guard appears in a golf cart. “Zis way, zis way.” He drives ahead of us through a couple of alleys, and a moment later we’re off the premises. We breathe a sigh of relief. Although secretly I’d have quite liked to stay….