
Isla Graciosa- Tenerife 6th-24th October 2024
Isla Graciosa is tiny, with a fleet of tourist catamarans that take over the anchorage with competitively loud music playing over the top of one another, while grandmas in leopard print bikinis, Germans in rash vests and drunk English folks swim around in the peaceful sharky water. Maybe a good time to do a tactical poo. The tiny local town is overrun by tourists and is built on arid unwelcoming land making it impossible to grow fruit, or anything for that matter. Not even cactuses. The ‘supermarkets’ are extortionately expensive, and the vegetables are very shrivelled and sad. To save money we only bought carrots, onions and Fanta Limon to celebrate arrival on land.
The following day Otto and Tamara (friends of Niels from the North) arrived with their big beautiful boat, and it was the one occasion we couldn’t be sure, if our boat really was the fairest of them all. Only for a moment though ; )
They only had one night before sailing on to Gran Canaria, so we made a feast of the Mahi-Mahi they’d caught, and the onions and carrots we’d caught…
On the 8th we also moved on, to Lanzarote. Niels’s grandparents spoke very highly of the island since having spent their honeymoon there 30 years ago. Wanting us to see some of the sights, they sponsored our hire car to explore.


The first anchorage wasn’t very protected but was close to an underground cave where blind deep-sea crabs come up through a volcanic underwater tunnel. “I thought they’d be bigger” says Tobi, squinting into the dark blue pool lit by the small stream of light that poured through the round entrance. We laughed but he was right, you could hardly see the little fellas. It was an impressive place however, with an underground concert hall, and many big leafed plants and cactuses. After this little tourist excursion, we went for a swim and watched some bigger crabs fighting on the rocks before sailing off to the airport to pick up the fifth member of the crew, Maddie!



A familiar face who crossed the Bristol channel from Wales to Cornwall with us last year straight after Boomtown- a big music festival- and impressively slept almost the whole 37 hours.
It was a gorgeous evening sail along the dry and abstract coastline, calm as ever but with good wind, wind good for fishing. Niels and I still weren’t confident fishers, so it was nice to observe Tobi and his methods, and he caught us a Barracuda.
A beautiful silver hunter with teeth, and feathered fins. Hopefully that would make up for our late arrival at the long flat beach by the airport, where Maddie was waiting, flashing her torch and swatting mosquitos.
It was the worst night sleep we’ve ever had on Atlanta, the constant whining of mosquitos in our ears, and hands slapping faces throughout the night. It was also absolutely boiling.
The following day, Niels and Tobi went off to get the hire-car and a new anchor chain, and the gurls stayed onboard and swam and caught up.
That evening we hung the 70 metres of chain around the four of us, and Bella filmed as we walked in a kinky camel procession from the carpark to the beach, loaded it into the dingy in the waves, and paddled it over.
The wind was unusually calm for the week allowing us to stay close to town, anchored by a long beach directly by the airport. It wasn’t really ‘our scene’ but it provided easy access to our little hire car which we made the absolute most of.

On the 11th we did a drive around the island hoping to climb a volcano, but to enter the national park cost 20 euros PER HEAD and our heads were unfortunately very visible, although I did try to get everyone in the back to duck, Maddie had already caught eye contact with the guy and Bella and I didn’t do a very good job of staying low, so we reversed out determined that we would find our own volcano then thank you very much.



Our very own volcano didn’t seem the kind that got climbed allot, although there was a path shown on the very German hiking apps that Tobi and Niels had. The problem was that they showed different ways. This wouldn’t be a problem until later. The big black and red rough rocks that made up the ‘path’ skidded away under our feet as we slid half up and half down the volcano to its huge dead mouth. There wasn’t allot of remanence from its fiery past, the bigger boulders frosted over with pale green lichen and the cactus plantations down the one side suggested it was long long gone.
The sun was already slipping away beneath the sea as the five of us panting, reached the top. Only time for chocolate, a quick flippery photo and a beer before looking for the exit route in the last light. We didn’t find the exit route in the last light, it got dark very quickly, leaving us with two options, to keep looking for some kind of path through the cactuses and barbed wire, but risk it getting very steep as had been our ascent. We had of course all forgotten to bring a headtorch. We chose option 2, which meant getting to the main road which we could see across the land from our current vantage point, by climbing over several high fences and crossing creepy properties under CCTV, praying not to come across any dogs. Oh and Bella did all of this in her bloody sandals.

Ode to the sleeping volcano,
what you're dreaming of I dont know,
Letting young feet roam, among ancient stone
That fiery temper lays low

The following day we set off following the windswept coast of Lanzarote and Fuerta Ventura heading to Gran Canaria.
Fuerta Ventura means strong winds, and that it was, channelling between the islands. The land beige, barren and flat relative to the peaks and mountains of the others we passed along the way. With wind picking up and it was way too crowded in the cockpit, and there was a problem with the weight distribution onboard which meant that sea water was coming in through the in/outlets in the cockpit, but not draining out. Maddie, Bella and I were banished to the front deck where I was trying to read everyone a story, until the waves splashed us one too many times and we instead lay in the bed at the front watching Shameless and drinking beers.
After sailing through the night to Gran Canaria- we found Otto and Tamara again, which Niels knew would happen but was a complete surprise for the rest! The anchorage protected by a wall and a beach had many boats in and was right by the big city. Getting the dingy to land wasn’t easy, but after several trips to get us over, Bella Maddie, Tobi and I went on a huge laundry mission while Niels stayed onboard as the anchor wasn’t really holding.
That night we made pizzas on our friend’s boat and stayed out late, our washing hung on ropes strung along the boom like hundreds of multicolour flags.
It was the fear of our washing blowing overboard that got me up at 4am, that and the horrible banging noise that the chain made with every wave that seemed to be getting bigger rolling into the cove. The wind had turned, the anchor had slipped and we had drifted close to the reef. Some socks had already gone overboard, and it was clear that we needed to leave. Unfortunately our anchor and brand-new chain were being put to the test and had got stuck in some rocks making leaving really difficult. We tried motoring in different angles to free it, and ended up with the stern to the waves, nearly losing the dingy as it heaved up and down smashing against the water. Finally it freed and we were out, leaving only some odd socks and our anchor weight behind in the water. It was too wild to try diving for it. We may as well have left the anchor as well, because as Niels pulled it on deck, it was clear we wouldn’t be using it again. One of the prongs was completely bent and would no longer hold.
It took 14hrs to reach the north east tip of Tenerife which we hoped would be protected from the swell and would give us a better night’s sleep than the last. Surely that was just bad luck. We ate some food and hoped that the lightning and clouds which were moving across the sea would pass us by, but the wind from the steep cliff which we were sheltering below acted as a funnel and blew down hard on us all night. The chain of course got stuck again and yanked the boat with every wave, so we let more out and hoped for the best.
On the 15th we finally reached Garachico harbour. The narrow entrance faces north, guarded by big waves that build up on the shallowing seabed. It seemed impossible to imagine entering, but the guy who responded to our VHF call said it was tranquilo.
Once around the first horrible corner it really was, completely calm, behind the huge 5 metre concrete walls, with identical ‘Poseidons’ on each huge brick.
It was such a treat to be there for the week. They may have made a mistake on our bill, but it only cost 10 euros a night.

We swam, climbed the mountain, ate tapas and ice-cream, ate tapas and didn’t worry about late night emergencies or lost socks. Tobi slept in the cockpit, Bella Maddie and i took he big bed and poor old Niels was on the bench for a few nights.
Tobi left and went off on his own adventures, and my little sister Maia joined the gang!



We did drawing games, played guitar and watched the Fantastic beasts movies snuggled outside in the evenings, projected onto a sheet hanging in the cockpit. Maddie and Bella left on the 23rd and on the night of the 24th Papa and Odi and Ella turned up in the most ridiculous little hire car I’ve ever seen!
To be continued in the next chapter…
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