We decided to go to Santa Cruz de Tenerife on the Canary Islands because it had a large marina and lots of yachting services, which is ideal to prepare for crossing an ocean. We were first thinking about going to Las Palmas on Gran Canaria, which is probably the most famous starting place for an Atlantic crossing, but we knew that the ARC (Atlantic Rally for Cruisers) was starting from there at the same time and thus the marina would most likely be full with hundreds of participating boats. We called the marina in Tenerife as soon as we knew our arrival date (only a couple of days in advance) to make a reservation. But they didn’t pick up the phone, so we tried again and again, sometimes the call was even rejected after ringing twice. We also made a reservation on Navily, a marina app, where we also didn’t get a reply. Finally, after trying for some more days, somebody picked up the phone and we asked if there would be space for us in three days time. The rather unfriendly woman on the other end told me, “I don’t know”. I tried to ask her what that meant, as I thought she should know but she couldn’t give me a reasonable answer and hung up. So we thought, if they don’t know whether they have space in the marina we might as well try and maybe get lucky. We looked at some alternatives to this harbour and found some anchorages where we would go if they were full and left Madeira.
The wind was moderate, the sea quite calm, and nobody got seasick. During the second night, the lights of Tenerife appeared on the horizon and we were greeted by the many cruise ships visiting the Canaries, looking like big and brightly lit floating buildings. One cruise ship we passed quite close around 20 miles off-shore which was going at 90 degrees to our course. We continued to sail down the coast of Tenerife for around 10 hours until we were approaching Santa Cruz, only to meet the same cruise ship we crossed earlier. Although they usually do more than double our speed, they had to go through a TSS, a traffic separation scheme, which forces big ships to make a long detour via imaginary roads far away from the island. So for the first time, we managed to keep up with a cruise ship instead of just losing them in the distance.
Once we entered the marina we called them via VHF and were quickly allocated to one of the pontoons. We were helped to moore into our spot by two friendly marinieri. After we had finished tying our lines one of them asked if we had a reservation. I told them no, not really, and we were advised to go to the marina office as soon as it opened. So Jenny and I did as we were told. The woman working in the office seemed very agitated and not happy at all that we just arrived and wanted to stay for a week. She told us that the marina was already full and a big catamaran was supposed to come tomorrow and we were now in its spot, without a reservation. We felt a bit bad at that, not knowing what to say. But there obviously is a flaw in their system, with the marinieri just allocating a random berth to any boats arriving even without a reservation. The woman angrily asked us why we didn’t reserve, so we explained that they (probably she herself) didn’t pick up the phone and the only time they did I got the unsatisfying answer: “I don’t know”. I also told her that we reserved via the Navily App, and she told me that this system was only for the low season. How should I know that? We feared we would have to leave again but luckily we could stay. Walking out of the marina we saw that, although they were quite full, there were still many spots empty, maybe around 10% and all the excitement was for nothing. I only later learned how the reservation scheme worked in these marinas after overhearing a phone call in the office. That person on the phone first asked for when he had made his reservation, because he had done so half a year earlier and forgotten it in the meantime. He then moved the reservation to a few weeks earlier without any trouble. But what is the point of a reservation then, when the date of arrival and length of stay is irrelevant? We also later read in the reviews, that even if you have a confirmed reservation there quite frequently isn’t a place for your boat because they keep moving around all reservations and take every boat that arrives at the marina. And that was also the reason why I got the answer on the phone “I don’t know”, because nobody really knows if there is space for you, even if you have a reservation. Once we finally settled down in Santa Cruz we wanted to relax a bit before preparing for our next crossing because we had quite a tight time plan so far.
We rented a car and went on a trip to the Teide Mountain National Park. The drive there was already very spectacular, a long way through a beautiful forest with large areas that burnt down in the recent wildfire. Soon we drove into the fog only to come out above the clouds in the nicest sunny weather. To go on top of the volcano you need tickets which are limited to only 200 people per day and are usually sold out months before. We thus decided to do a walk across a plane with great views of the volcano. The whole area felt a bit like the surface of Mars, made up of red rocks and sand. We also got tickets for a tour of the observatory which started at a fixed time. Since we left a bit late and were looking very long for a parking spot we basically had to run the whole 1.5 hour hike in less than an hour. We managed just in time and drove to the observatory, where we were the last to arrive, but still on time!
The observatory on the Canary Islands is one of the three major, ground-based, astronomical research sites on Earth, the other two are in Chile and Hawaii. The main requirement for a good observatory is its height above sea level. Firstly, because the higher you are, the colder it is. This is important because hot air will lead to optical distortions (you can observe the same phenomenon when looking over concrete in the distance on a hot summer day). Secondly, you simply have less air above your detectors which makes the light from space reach you more easily. And thirdly, you are higher than most clouds which means more unobstructed views and observation time. The observatory on Teide is located at 2400 m above sea level and it boasts an astonishing average of 325 cloud-free days per year.
The tour we took was quite interesting, we first had a small introduction to astronomy and then a look at several experiments from the outside and went into one of the small domes to look at a telescope from the inside. We also were able to look at the sun through two telescopes with different filters on them. Through one of them, we could see a sunspot, which is an area of less solar activity than the surrounding surface of the sun which appears darker, and the other one showed us a big flare erupting at the side of the sun. The sun has a cycle of 11 years where its activity drops and rises again. If you’re unlucky you will just see a perfect circle through both telescopes when doing this tour. We were lucky to be just at the right time. In 2024 solar activity is peaking and it’s apparently also the best time for seeing polar lights, as they are created from sun storms.
Another day we took a taxi to the starting point of a hike. We almost missed the beginning of the path because it was a dirt track with fallen trees piling up. The ground was very muddy and slippery making it very challenging to climb up the steep hill. And only a few meters in, a group of very angry looking dogs started wildly running and barking at us. We all stopped in place as they really seemed to be on the brink of jumping at us. With a bit of patience, they slowly calmed down and seemed to lose interest in us. I dared to take a few steps and once I passed them unharmed the others gathered all their courage to follow me. We almost turned around there, but the hike soon got a lot better. It turned out we were not on one of the main paths, just a small and not properly maintained side path that led to the main trail, which was much nicer. It took us through Laurisilva, a beautiful ancient laurel forest. After enjoying the views from the top and the steep decent we took the bus back to La Laguna which was a very nice old town with historic buildings from colonial times.
Another day we tried our luck snorkeling and rented a car to get around the island. After a drive of over an hour, we made it to the southern side of the island where we went to a place that was meant to be one of the best snorkelling sites of the island. Although we saw quite a few different colourful fish the visibility underwater was not great, and in hindsight, it really wasn’t worth the effort especially when comparing it to the Caribbean.
One day we went to the Palmetum, which was basically a botanical garden with lots of palm trees, and many other plants as well. It was a collection of plants from all over the world and the park was themed after different regions on earth. Other than the hideous Christmas decorations and the art pieces (inflatable plastic squids with RGB lighting), it was really a lovely park. One of our highlights was seeing the monarch butterfly. This delicate little creature is able to cross the Atlantic on its wings, giving us some much-needed hope that we can do it as well.
One night we bought tickets for a piano concert in the big and modern Auditorio de Tenerife, which looks like it has been inspired by the Sidney Opera House. The concert by the pianist Yulianna Avdeeva (even though she played some pieces by Dmitri Shostakovich, whom I just don’t seem to get around lately) was really great and quite an enjoyable contrast to the boat life.
Other than these few excursions most of the days we were relaxing in the city and on the boat, preparing the boat and ourselves mentally for our next crossing. We often went to “el corte ingles”, a big shopping mall, and an Açai cafe for breakfast (probably every other day since it was so good).
On the very short crossing between Porto Santo and Madeira, our watermaker stopped working. We contacted to customer support and identified the problem to be the low-pressure water pump.
Our watermaker produces fresh water from seawater via reverse osmosis. It has a membrane with tiny holes, so small that only pure H2O (and smaller) molecules can pass through, whereas salt molecules are too large and will not be able to pass. But to separate the water from the salt, you need very high pressures to push it through the membrane. The “low-pressure” water pump, with quite a big motor on it, takes sea water and increases the pressure to around 10 bar (10 times the atmospheric pressure). The water is then sent to a hydraulic amplifier, where a piston is subjected to the pressure. On the other side of the piston, there is another piston, but one with a much smaller area. That way, the pressure on the other side can increase drastically, creating pressures of up to 65 bar, pushing the pure H2O through the membrane into our water tank.
When we took the low-pressure pump out we saw that the inside was completely shattered. Luckily, the watermaker was still under the manufacturer’s warranty and we were sent a brand-new pump. We were told it would take only 3 days for the package to arrive via plane, but when I told the lady at the marina office she just laughed at me and said, everything takes at least 10 days to arrive on the Canaries, and right she was. Thankfully she allowed us to stay a week longer and the new pump finally arrived.
The installation of the new pump was then left to us. We had to learn a bit about how to install pipes on boats and which ones to use because they have to withstand the high pressures in the system, but it went quite well. We were quite nervous about using it for the first time, as we had to get all the air out of the system first because it would damage the watermaker. But in the end, it all seemed to work again!
My sister Flurina talked to two hitchhikers from Switzerland as soon as we arrived on the island, and every other day or so a couple of hitchhikers came around to our boat hoping to be taken across the Atlantic. Our initial plan was to not take anybody else. I heard from some experienced sailors that three crew members were the ideal size for crossing the Atlantic. Although more people are helpful for having shorter watches (especially at night), more people also mean more food, more water and less space. Taking on strangers can also be quite risky, if you don’t get along well it’s going to be a nightmare to share such few and precious square meters for such a long time. But after thinking about it for a couple of days we changed our minds. Three people is probably the ideal crew size, if everybody is fit and motivated 100% of the time. But we knew we weren’t like that. If we were to encounter any bad weather like on the English channel or on our Madeira crossing, we would not be at our full capacity and could use the additional help. The two Swiss hitchhikers Flurina talked to were also a bit more mechanically inclined compared to us theorists (you don’t learn how to fix a boat at university neither in physics nor medicine). One of them was a mechanic and the other an electrician, which could come in handy in case something important broke a thousand miles offshore. The two boys seemed pleasant enough after our first meeting that we decided to take them with us.
The last few days we spent preparing everything more intensively. Mostly buying food, preparing a meal plan and doing some smaller boat jobs (they just seem to never stop emerging). Since the watermaker just broke recently, we bought plenty of water to get us across as back up. But as long as the watermaker worked we were planning on drinking our “home-made” water.
The girls prepared a menu plan for 19 days (we were a bit too optimistic). In Madeira we were still unsure if we would want to do the crossing at all, but my sister was really keen on doing it and she pushed for it. In hindsight I can say thank you Flurina :). As she was the one least affected by seasickness she offered to cook for us the whole way. This would certainly help a lot as cooking is simply impossible when feeling seasick and we thankfully took her offer. But we also had to slow her cooking ambitions a little, trying to keep everything as simple as possible. There were lots of easy meals, such as bread, müesli, pasta, rice and beans, curry out of a glass, and “fertig-Rösti” but we also planned the occasional highlight such as Pizza, Lasagna, Wok, and Pancakes. We also had loads and loads of backup cans of food stored (beans, beans and some more beans with rice) which we had already bought in England. This would certainly have kept us alive for at least an additional month and we are still living of it today.
Fruits and vegetables were also bought, but we waited until the very last moment such that it would keep as long as possible. Although we thought we bought loads of them at the time (that feeling came probably because we had to carry it for half an hour through the burning sun), it didn’t seem like that much once we put it out on the boat. Especially comparing it to what other boats would buy. But it turned out to be just the right amount and nothing went bad on the crossing. The problem with most fruit is, that it’s not ripe at the start of the voyage, and then they suddenly ripen at the same time and spoil soon after because you don’t have any cool storage places on the boat. Some boats buy several kilos of bananas, just to realize that they all turn bad at the same time and most of them have to be thrown away. On the crossing, we always managed to just keep up with eating the fruit before they spoiled.
After buying everything, there was a huge mess on the boat and we carefully allocated box after box with food, ordered mostly by time when we would eat it, plus extra boxes full of snacks.
We also provisioned on Diesel. Our boat has a tank that only holds 275 l of diesel. This won’t bring you across the Atlantic. We of course planned on sailing as much as possible, but Jenny and I didn’t fancy sitting around in the middle of the ocean for a week in case the wind died down (something that quite often happens to small boats, making the crossing a week longer). For this reason, we decided to stock up on Diesel canisters and we bought over 100 l of extra Diesel. This still isn’t nearly enough to motor over the Atlantic, but it would definitely get us there faster (in the end, we didn’t use a single canister and arrived with still some fuel in our main tank).
We set a departure date, the 20. November because we couldn’t just keep postponing it any longer. The wind didn’t look great, the trade winds had just collapsed a couple of days earlier, but at least there was no storm coming and no big waves predicted. We were ready to go.
You seem to learn a lot about dealing with difficult Marina staff, wild dogs, water pumps and about astronomy.
Wonderful bird pictures. I feel sorry about Shostakovich, Andrin, (and a bit guilty). Don‘t let it destroy your interest in classical music; our
Grand has just been tuned and mended…