Atlantic Trial: 6 days from Tangier to Lanzarote
Our longest crossing so far is coming up, and it's on the Atlantic. It's around 640 nautical miles (around 1200 km) - more than twice as long as our longest crossing to date - and it is just the two of us.
Day 1 - Monday
In the morning we make the final preparations - we stow everything safely, fill our 170 liter water tank and 2 x 20 liter canisters and check the latest weather forecast again. Should we really set off? We are unsure. Light thunderstorms are forecast for day 1 and 2. Is it really wise to set off now? We check the weather again for the whole of next week - if we don't set off now we would be stuck in Tangier for at least a week, as either no wind or headwinds are forecast. After much deliberation, we decide to set off after all. We go to the marina office to pay our mooring fees - 360 dirhams, just under 35 euros for three nights. Then it's time to check out. We have to go to the harbor police and customs again. It takes us almost two hours, as we also have to get our drone back and it was stored somewhere else. In the meantime, I keep checking the lightning radar - the dark clouds are getting closer and closer. Was it really a good idea? There's no turning back now, as the departure process is underway. We finally get the drone back and the customs officers come on board again briefly. Then we untie the lines.
Knowing that the easterly wind will blow us well out of the last part of the Strait of Gibraltar at the start, we only set the mainsail in the 3rd reef - the smallest possible size. The start is already very sporty with 25 knots of wind - we even have gusts of up to 38 knots. But we are well prepared and Vaquita steers us well through the waves. We feel safe!
We pass Cape Spartel - where the Mediterranean and the Atlantic meet. After an hour, the wind weakens as expected - we are on the open Atlantic and so the jet effect of the strait dissipates. We unfurl the mainsail and set our headsail. We warm up our pre-cooked curry and steer relatively comfortably towards the sunset. Fortunately, we didn't get any thunderstorms.
It rains again and again during the night and we take it in turns to spend the watch shifts below deck at the navigation table and regularly take a quick look out of the hatch.
Day 2 - Tuesday
In the morning, the wind gets weaker and we have to start the engine. The sea is calm and two small birds entertain us. They fly around us, frequently rest on the boat and are not very shy. One of them flies into the boat three times and I have to shoo it out again. They stay with us for a few hours. Later, a few playful dolphins accompany us.
We decide to take a quick freshwater shower on deck. With the engine already running, we can make use of the warm water and the conditions allow it. Everyone is fresh on board again.
The wind picks up again and we can sail calmly through the night.
Day 3 - Wednesday
The day starts calmly, but the wind picks up a little and we sail further and further towards Morocco. We play a leisurely game of Yahtzee, but the wind picks up in the late afternoon. At first we sail with full sails, then reef the mainsail due to the increasing wind and the dark rain clouds. When it starts to rain lightly, we also reef the headsail - a little too late, because it starts to pour down completely and the wind picks up abruptly. We are in our first squall. These are local rain or thunderstorm cells - there is heavy rain, the wind picks up and usually changes direction. Fortunately, we only caught a mini-squall and after 2 minutes the spectacle was over again. We didn't expect the first squall so quickly - from now on we'll pay more attention to it, because you can normally recognize the dark clouds quite well (at least during the day).
After the squall, it gets more and more turbulent: the wind increases and the waves no longer come from the side but from the front. They also get shorter and higher and soon we are fighting the wind and waves with fully reefed sails.
My dad sends us the current weather via satellite phone and writes: “The night won't be so comfortable. Course until 05:00 approx. 175 degrees. Close hauled (17 knots)” - Yay!
Day 4 - Thursday
It was a very uncomfortable night, because Vaquita kept slamming against the waves - sometimes with a loud bang! In the morning we hit another squall, but fortunately the wind didn't pick up any further. Our course is still very unpleasant. The waves feel like they are coming from all sides - cross sea - and we were still sailing close hauled. We have both slept badly and wonder why we are doing this to ourselves. Our friend and third crew member for the Atlantic crossing, Stefan, is coming to Lanzarote by plane in 5 hours in mid-November - we could have had it easier. We haven't even made it halfway. It's also frustrating that neither wind nor waves from this direction were predicted in our original weather forecast. We are at our moral low point. We are also considering making a stopover in Morocco if things don't improve.
But as the day progresses, the waves become longer again, the wind less, the course not only more pleasant, but also the direction is right again. We make good progress. Today we have a hearty Austrian meal to boost the moral.
In the evening, we have to avoid a fleet of fishermen spread out over several nautical miles. We don't want to get caught in one of their nets. The wind is getting less and less and we start the engine for the night.
Day 5 - Friday
During the night we have to dodge a fishing fleet again and make a detour of 10 nautical miles. In the morning we can finally sail slowly with very little wind and we enjoy the wonderful sunrise. From midday onwards, we have to motor again as the wind dies completely. The highlight of the day is a shower and a fresh wardrobe. Otherwise, the day is unexciting and very calm. In conditions like these, a trip on the Atlantic is not so bad. If we continue at this pace, we should arrive on Sunday morning. So two more nights to go.
A little wind picks up again just before sunset. Not much, but our boat doesn't need much to go fast on a beam reach, so we sail at 6 knots with only 7 knots of wind and no waves. We enjoy the sunset on the foredeck, where the different cloud shapes are illuminated in shades of orange and red.
Day 6 - Saturday
The day starts very calmly - we still have little wind and waves. In the morning we need the engine to make progress, but the wind slowly picks up again and by midday we can sail. We enjoy sailing, but we are also really looking forward to arriving.
In the late afternoon, we can slowly make out something on the horizon: Land ho! After 5 days and 2.5 hours at sea, we can finally see Lanzarote! We recognize the steep north face and are as happy as little children! But we also know that it will be more than 15 hours before we reach our destination, Playa Blanca, in the very south of the island.
As predicted by my dad, the wind dies in the evening and so we recover the sails after the beautiful sunset and start the engine. Shortly afterwards, we receive a security radio message that unmanned rubber boats are drifting between Lanzarote and the Moroccan coast. We don't think much of it yet.
Day 7 - Sunday
At 3 a.m. the radio starts beeping loudly and we then hear a Mayday Relay Call - the radio station in Arrecife passes on a Mayday call: people have gone overboard between Lanzarote and Morocco and all boats in the vicinity are asked to keep a lookout. The coordinates given are 60 nautical miles east of Lanzarote - too far away for us to be able to assist. However, we see a boat leaving the marina in Lanzarote and see on our screen that it is a search and rescue boat. We have a very bad feeling and are pretty sure that they are refugees. The radio message is repeated every 30 minutes for the next few hours. However, we don't find out exactly what has happened.
The sunrise shows itself in its most beautiful shades of red, reflected in the mirror-smooth Atlantic. We had no idea that this vast ocean could be so calm and glassy. At 7 a.m. we enter the Marina Rubicon. It feels a bit like coming home, because it was here that we not only learned to sail 7.5 years ago, but also set foot on a sailing boat for the very first time. And it was also here that Peter decided after 3 weeks of sailing lessons that we would one day sail across the Atlantic - at the time I laughed at the crazy idea. But now we are here, with our own boat, in the place where we learned to sail, docked opposite Mojito, the sailing boat on which our sailing story began, and in a few weeks we will actually be sailing across the Atlantic. So some (crazy) dreams do come true.
Our crossing from Tangier to Lanzarote in numbers:
Distance: 655 nm, under sail: 439 nm
Time: 5 days 19 hours 25 minutes
Average speed: 5,3 knots
Number of seen sunsets: 6
Missed thunderstorms: 2
Animals: two cheeky birds, one dolphin pod
Avoided fishing fleet: 2
Mayday Relay Call: 1