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Finally we were able to resume our course, which was hard on the wind in 10-12 knots of wind - a bit choppy, but pleasant enough. At one point there was talk of taking in a reef, but by midday the wind had dropped and progress, though pleasant, was slow. Just before lunch we were overtaken by the Swiss-registered boat Flying Swiss IV, and at two o'clock we gave up and switched the engine on. We saw two pilot whales - the first sea life we had seen for some time - then had lunch.
By three o'clock the barometer had dropped nine points since leaving . . . according to the pilot books this sort of fall usually presages a Southerly gale in these parts, but we have often seen the barometer plummet like this with no change in the weather at all. Weather forecasting here from barometer or clouds is a lost cause as far as I can see . . . the sky will quickly become overcast with high cloud, massive swirling cirrus or a huge band of cumulo-cirrus (mackerel sky), then it will dissolve away again over a few hours with no change in the weather. The wind acceleration zones and the local topography are far more significant.
Just off Punta Rasca Flying Swiss IV motored past and took some pictures of us, apparently under the mistaken impression that we were another boat or knew someone called Diana. They motored smartly off and appeared to be intending to anchor in the bay SW of Red Mountain.
After a final attempt at sailing that lasted all of five minutes we motor-sailed the rest of the way to San Miguel - the usually reliable wind acceleration zone off the SW of Tenerife wasn't working today, and we tied up beside Scott Free (Dave's old boat) in a flat calm at quarter past six. We dug out a packet of vacuum packed spinach and ricotta pasta that had been earmarked for an Atlantic treat and had it with a spicy Spanish sauce out of another packet. It was delicious, proving that boat food does not have to be horrible or only taste good when wet and cold. Had a couple of beers at the small bar in the marina and retired.
Weds 14th February - San Miguel - Radazul (34nm)
Met Doug from Clubsail first thing this morning and he asked if I had Dave's email address as he had been showing someone around Scott Free and couldn't get the engine started. I told him that Dave had arrived safely in St. Lucia after a 23 day passage, and dropped the info off at Magic Dragon, Doug's floating home when he is not on one of the Clubsail boats, before we left.
The wind was gusting to 17 knots in the marina as we slipped our lines, so after hanging around in the entrance waiting for the yellow submarine to submerge and get out of the way we put two reefs in the main and several rolls in the genny then began to beat our way towards Red Mountain. It was pleasant beating for a while, small steep seas but the boat not too heeled and relatively dry, making 45 degrees to the true wind at five knots. As we approached Red Mountain the wind began to ease and we shook out the reefs. North of Red Mountain we encountered a kiteboarder enjoying himself. He was also beating to windward,but only making about 80 degrees to the wind at best. |
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Kiteboarder |
It was very pleasant, with the sun shining, and we had but soon our VMG was down to less than two knots and yet again we resorted to the trusty Beta. It was Valentine's Day, and we were treated to a comedy exchange on CH16 as two guys in passing ships, after establishing that they were not going to collide, declared their undying love for each other. Channel 16 is not treated with the same reverence in these waters as it is at home.
We looked in to Bahia de Abona with a view to possibly anchoring there overnight. The pilot speaks highly of this bay, but we found it as rolly and uncomfortable as every other Canarian anchorage we have looked at so far. The anchorages would be OK in either a Southerly or a North Westerly, but the wind waves were North-Easterly and big enough to make either anchorage pretty uncomfortable. We motored on up the coast, having lunch on the run. It was a scorching hot afternoon, and by the time we got to Radazul, where the very friendly staff directed us to a tiny berth which we squeezed into with their help. the wind had died away completely. |
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Radazul Marina |
The marina was full with local boats, and it is unlikely they could have found a space for a larger yacht. There was no hassle about paperwork - we were told we could go to the office in the morning. We went to one of the three restaurants at the marina for an adequate, cheap but uninspiring Valentine's Day meal.
Thurs 15th February - To Santa Cruz (by bus)
We took the bus into Santa Cruz to investigate the marina situation there. Marina Atlantico was half empty . . . it seems that if we put in there then because we have been in Spanish waters for over 50 days we are liable to be charged the remaining 80% of the Tasa Senalizacion Maritima (a lights tax calculated at LengthxBeamx4.08). We already paid 20% of it on our first visit to Atlantico, and woujld now be lioable for the rest. In addition there is another port tax of about E3 a night . . . it would end up costing us at least E110 for two nights, and the new facilities block is still unfinished.
Marina Atlantico is the only marina that charges these taxes, and the manager here at Radazul tells us that it is in fact illegal - these taxes are only intended for commercial boats, but because the marina is in a commercial harbour they charge them on all yachts. Of course, Marina La Gomera is also in a commercial harbour - but they don't charge it, and neither does anywhere else.
Anyway, we took a long hot dusty walk out to the Northern-most harbour of the three where Marina Tenerife is said in the pilot to accept visiting yachts. The marina is pleasant enough, with a bar and good security, and although it is a long way out of town there is a frequent bus service.
The problem is that when we asked the manager of Marina Tenerife he told us there are no spaces for visiting yachts this year at all, not a single one - and neither are there any in the very small Puerto Chico on the Western side of the harbour. We had a large cold beer then caught the bus back into town for a wander around before catching a bus back to Radazul.
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Marina Tenerife |
Unless you want to pay a fortune in taxes for a marina with no facilities worth speaking of then it would appear that there is currently no decent marina for visiting yachts in this modern capital city of a quarter of a million people. Your best bet is to ring Radazul in advance and enquire - they are very friendly and the price is very reasonable. (Feliciano, 922 680 933)
Fri 16th February - Carnival, Santa Cruz de Tenerife
Caught the bus into town again and wandered round for an hour or so finding the best spot to watch the Cabalgata - the big opening parade of the carnival. Along the route a motley collection of chairs, stools and garden furniture lined the pavements, marking the spots the people who lived nearby had staked out for themselves. Having decided roughly where we would watch from we had a bite to eat and a couple of drinks to get us into the Carnival mood as more and more strangely dressed people appeared. An accordionist who looked just like Manuel from Fawlty Towers stood on a nearby manhole cover and played while a collection of SS officers strolled past the group of cowboys gathered at the bar. Half the men of Santa Cruz appeared to have dressed up as women, while the girls' choice of costume generally left you in no doubt as to their sex.
At about half past seven we wandered back up the hill in very mixed company. The owners of the chairs had mostly taken their seats now, but we found a good stance on a corner and watched the crowd while waiting for the procession to appear.
At quarter past eight the first troops appeared - dozens of people in incredibly colourful, elaborate matching costumes dancing their way down the street to the insistent carnival beat thumped out by a similarly dressed drum band following them. Troop after troop appeared, each set of costumes more spectacular or outrageous than the next . . . there must have been a ton of ostrich feathers on display. In between the troops of dancers and bands smaller groups of oddities would appear . . . sometimes you could tell what they were meant to be and other times it was anybody's guess. Occasionally a small group would come up the hill againsgt the flow, interacting with the crowd as they performed impromptu or rehearsed routines or were just plain silly.
More and more troops of carnivaleers . . . you felt that there must have been more performers than spectators. Periodically a giant float would appear, hugely and exotically decked out as an underwater grotto or a dragon palace or . . . well, something, anyway. The centrepiece of each fantastic creation was the carnival queen or one of her ladies in waiting, waving graciously to the crowds.
After two hours there was still no end to the procession, although there were now a few gaps between the large troops, ably filled by a motley collection of transvestites, clowns, lunatics on strange things with wheels and people generally having an insanely good time. By now many of the drum bands had a large following of revellers, mostly in fancy dress, dancing, tangoing and pogoing along behind.
Over three hours after the Cabalgata first started to pass our spot the last big troop of dancers and their accompanying band of drummers passed down the hill towards the harbour and the procession of floats began - a collection of imaginatively or bizarrely decorated and disguised vehicles created by various groups or businesses and known for some reason as the Concurso de Carrozzas y Coches Englanados. Many of the vehicles were just travelling parties, with people entering and leaving the party without the vehicle ever coming to a halt. Each was playing its own choice of raucous music from giant speakers, invariably at ear-splitting volume.
We ducked out of the diesel fumes at this point and into a nearby bar for a welcome refreshment, then wandered down towards the harbour. Everywhere you turned there were strangely dressed people and exotic creatures enjoying themselves. Mobile bars in their hundreds meant no-one had to queue for a drink. The trees, exotic enough anyway to Scottish eyes, were festooned in spiky blue lights and music could be heard coming from everywhere. A girl band played in an old bandstand in the middle of one of the squares, with fantastic lighting and sound, while all around . . . well, Carnival!
Down by the harbour the road along the seafront was closed to traffic, flanked for a mile by funfair rides and fast food stands. We sat on a wall and ate a baked potato, watching the mad world go by in their thousands. It was all amazingly good humoured - there was a very large though discreet police presence, but we saw no incidents. Later maybe . . .
In the Avenida de Anaga the floats from the Concurso were pulling up at the end of their journey. We were sitting having a beer outside one of the bars, the pavement thronged with gyrating revellers dancing to the loud and insistent rhythm thumping from the bar's sound system. The Bolivian contingent pulled up on the opposite side of the road in their strangely decorated party bus, Bolivian rhythms blaring. Sound wars broke out as our bar turned its system up full bore to compete and the Bolivians did likewise. More Carozzas pulled up, each with its own music and its own party. Paramilitary groups raced past, arms at the ready . . . had the peace ended? No, they were just costumed nutters, as were the fantasy all girl police squad. Be careful if you ask a policemen on Carnival - they may not be what they seem - and if in need of assistance be aware that many revellers also choose the paramedic look. Chaos, and probably not your favourite night of the year if you are a real on-duty copper.
With hearing loss certain if we stayed in the vicinity any longer we wandered back up town to get a taxi home. The streets were thronged and it was obvious the party was going on until dawn. In our younger days we would have stayed and got the first bus in the morning, but tonight we settled for a fifteen minute taxi ride back to the Radazul and a wee dram before retiring. They say Santa Cruz is the second biggest carnival in the world after Rio . . . if you are a party animal and want to go to one of the world's biggest and most outrageous parties, then go to Santa Cruz at carnival time.
Images of Carnival - Santa Cruz de Tenerife, February 2007(As usual, click any picture to enlarge)
Sat 17th February - Radazul & Santa Cruz
Slept late and chilled out on the boat then took the bus into Santa Cruz again in the evening to watch another carnival parade - the same troops of dancers and drummers as in the Cabalgata, but this time it was a competition, and the dancing was spectacular. Caught the last bus back to Radazul - luckily it was five minutes late, as were we.
Sun 18th February - Radazul
Dozed, had a couple of beers and generally waited to leave for Gran Canaria. We have a much better feeling about Tenerife after this particular visit - therfe is so much more to it than Playa de Las Americas.
The plan was to leave just before midnight to save a night's marina fees and to get to the wind acceleration zone off SW Gran Canaria in daylight.
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