Above: Sardinia
2013 Diaries
We began our sailing season in southern Sicily, sailed to Tunisia, Sardinia, Corsica (pictured above), France, Spain, Portugal, and a failed Atlantic crossing had us return to Portugal. By land, we explored Southeast Asia visiting Thailand, Myanmar, Cambodia, Laos, and Vietnam. While Big Sky was in Monistir, we drove to the Algerian border and back. While Big Sky was in southern France, we drove through central France. In the fall, we left Big Sky in Saida, Morocco and took a train to Casablanca, another to Marrakesh, and drove through the Sahara Desert once again as far as the Algerian border.
We began our sailing season in southern Sicily, sailed to Tunisia, Sardinia, Corsica (pictured above), France, Spain, Portugal, and a failed Atlantic crossing had us return to Portugal. By land, we explored Southeast Asia visiting Thailand, Myanmar, Cambodia, Laos, and Vietnam. While Big Sky was in Monistir, we drove to the Algerian border and back. While Big Sky was in southern France, we drove through central France. In the fall, we left Big Sky in Saida, Morocco and took a train to Casablanca, another to Marrakesh, and drove through the Sahara Desert once again as far as the Algerian border.
SICILY
January 4, 2013 – Arriving back aboard Big Sky in southern Sicily from Canada has us basking in the warmer temperatures. Our luggage didn’t make the connection in Rome. We’re in constant communication with Air Alatalia, believing in positive thinking to bring that they arrive soon.
January 8 – Four days following our arrival in Sicily, our luggage arrived. Our next adventure is in two weeks, to Southeast Asia. While Con researches flights and trains I'm researching hotels and sights. Temperatures in Sicily are warming, with 18 today and sunny skies.
January 14 – Judy and I (Pacific Pearl) enjoyed a two-hour walk east from the marina to the nature preserve and back again. Spring flowers are blooming leaving a carpet of colour all around us. We had the pleasure of sharing the winter season with Judy and Bruno in Kos last year. Judy is an Aussie, former surfer and Bruno a French chef, both delightful people.
January 15 – A storm had been predicted and waking to thunder and lightning confirmed its arrival. Dark clouds covered the sun and hail bounced off Big Sky, and then as if a door opened, a steady 65 knots raged through the marina. Lightning bolts flashed south of us, white caps developed in the marina, and the sea behind the breakwater sprayed as high as light posts. By afternoon, we ventured out to the fresh-food market. The mandarin vendor filled a plastic bag to the brim, and motioned two fingers, "2 euro." With our backpack full and heavy, we stopped into the cruiser's room and participated in a Windows 7 discussion led by one of the cruisers. Each week, someone volunteers to share technical knowledge.
January 20 – We hosted a party aboard with Judy, Bruno, Angie, Keith, Con and me. Judy is leaving on to visit her mom in Australia and Bruno to France to visit a friend. Angie and Keith just returned from Wales.
January 21 – We’re off to visit Myanmar, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam. Click the red button below for stories in our "Off the Beaten Track".
January 4, 2013 – Arriving back aboard Big Sky in southern Sicily from Canada has us basking in the warmer temperatures. Our luggage didn’t make the connection in Rome. We’re in constant communication with Air Alatalia, believing in positive thinking to bring that they arrive soon.
January 8 – Four days following our arrival in Sicily, our luggage arrived. Our next adventure is in two weeks, to Southeast Asia. While Con researches flights and trains I'm researching hotels and sights. Temperatures in Sicily are warming, with 18 today and sunny skies.
January 14 – Judy and I (Pacific Pearl) enjoyed a two-hour walk east from the marina to the nature preserve and back again. Spring flowers are blooming leaving a carpet of colour all around us. We had the pleasure of sharing the winter season with Judy and Bruno in Kos last year. Judy is an Aussie, former surfer and Bruno a French chef, both delightful people.
January 15 – A storm had been predicted and waking to thunder and lightning confirmed its arrival. Dark clouds covered the sun and hail bounced off Big Sky, and then as if a door opened, a steady 65 knots raged through the marina. Lightning bolts flashed south of us, white caps developed in the marina, and the sea behind the breakwater sprayed as high as light posts. By afternoon, we ventured out to the fresh-food market. The mandarin vendor filled a plastic bag to the brim, and motioned two fingers, "2 euro." With our backpack full and heavy, we stopped into the cruiser's room and participated in a Windows 7 discussion led by one of the cruisers. Each week, someone volunteers to share technical knowledge.
January 20 – We hosted a party aboard with Judy, Bruno, Angie, Keith, Con and me. Judy is leaving on to visit her mom in Australia and Bruno to France to visit a friend. Angie and Keith just returned from Wales.
January 21 – We’re off to visit Myanmar, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam. Click the red button below for stories in our "Off the Beaten Track".
Beautiful winter day for a swim in Sicily.
CANADA
March 16 – We completed a circumnavigation via air (around the world) returning to Canada via the Pacific and our first stop was to visit my fun-loving 86-year-old mom in Brentwood Bay, Vancouver Island. Spring has sprung on the island showcasing its springtime beauty. The three of us drove up island to visit Con’s brother Hugo and wife Elserine in Nanoose Bay, walked to the ocean and watched the sea lions splashing nearby raising a ruckus with their throaty barks. On our last day, mom treated us to a dinner in a restaurant by the Sidney marina. Afterward, we walked through the marina and received an invitation from a yacht-owner aboard his 80 footer. He opened a bottle of wine and the four of us shared stories throughout the evening. From Vancouver Island, we flew to snowy Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, and drove to Carrot River on the tail-end of a severe snow storm with wind-chill weather dipping to -30. In just a few days, we’d gone from +38 to -30. The Carrot River gang, Con and I drove the 3.5 hours to Saskatoon and collected Nick, Bryant and Dex who flew in from Calgary and we all booked into a hotel with a swimming pool.
March 22 – Calgary Cousins Dex 4, and Hailey 3, are great buddies, so polite and kind, to each other and hilariously call each other "Dexton" and "Hairy". There's nothing cuter than their dancing to the choreographed dance moves on the Xbox.
Friday mornings are “Girl Friend Coffee Time” and I slipped down town at 7:30 to meet up with them. This is our 13th year.
March 27 –The zoo Con and I took Dex and Hailey on an outing. As much as I detest animals and marina life in captivity, we took the kids to the Calgary Zoo. We'd only purchased the tickets, and already Con and I were pooped from their high energy. Entrance was an astounding $100 and then another $20 for the wagon. The irony was that all the kids wanted to do at the zoo was play in the playground. We could have done that in our neighbourhood. (Nick did warn us.) The moment the kids went into the fenced off playground, populated by scads of kids, we lost them! I stood guard at the only way in and out, eyes peeled for them. Thirty minutes later, I spotted them. We had to bribe them just to leave the park and visit the penguin park. Dex got trapped in the round-about big doors, not big enough to move them and blocking others from entering to give them a push. All in all, it was an emotional day -- for Con and me.
Old Time Rock n Roll
Courtney’s boyfriend and Courtney surprised us with floor tickets (Row 12) to one of our favourite performer, Bob Seger, who rocked the Saddledome in an awesome concert. The guy beside me sang so loud it was hard to hear Bob! There wasn't an empty seat in the dome.
We drove 1.5 hours to Red Deer to celebrate Easter together as a family, hosted by Lindsey and Les. Even my mom flew in from Brentwood Bay.
Below: Mom, Con and I visit Elserine, Hugo; Brit, Kris, Nolan, Torri, meet up with Bryant, Nick, and Dex in Saskatoon (with us); Dex and Hailey hanging out in Calgary; mom visits Red Deer for Easter; Bob Segar concert; and the kids at the zoo.
March 16 – We completed a circumnavigation via air (around the world) returning to Canada via the Pacific and our first stop was to visit my fun-loving 86-year-old mom in Brentwood Bay, Vancouver Island. Spring has sprung on the island showcasing its springtime beauty. The three of us drove up island to visit Con’s brother Hugo and wife Elserine in Nanoose Bay, walked to the ocean and watched the sea lions splashing nearby raising a ruckus with their throaty barks. On our last day, mom treated us to a dinner in a restaurant by the Sidney marina. Afterward, we walked through the marina and received an invitation from a yacht-owner aboard his 80 footer. He opened a bottle of wine and the four of us shared stories throughout the evening. From Vancouver Island, we flew to snowy Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, and drove to Carrot River on the tail-end of a severe snow storm with wind-chill weather dipping to -30. In just a few days, we’d gone from +38 to -30. The Carrot River gang, Con and I drove the 3.5 hours to Saskatoon and collected Nick, Bryant and Dex who flew in from Calgary and we all booked into a hotel with a swimming pool.
March 22 – Calgary Cousins Dex 4, and Hailey 3, are great buddies, so polite and kind, to each other and hilariously call each other "Dexton" and "Hairy". There's nothing cuter than their dancing to the choreographed dance moves on the Xbox.
Friday mornings are “Girl Friend Coffee Time” and I slipped down town at 7:30 to meet up with them. This is our 13th year.
March 27 –The zoo Con and I took Dex and Hailey on an outing. As much as I detest animals and marina life in captivity, we took the kids to the Calgary Zoo. We'd only purchased the tickets, and already Con and I were pooped from their high energy. Entrance was an astounding $100 and then another $20 for the wagon. The irony was that all the kids wanted to do at the zoo was play in the playground. We could have done that in our neighbourhood. (Nick did warn us.) The moment the kids went into the fenced off playground, populated by scads of kids, we lost them! I stood guard at the only way in and out, eyes peeled for them. Thirty minutes later, I spotted them. We had to bribe them just to leave the park and visit the penguin park. Dex got trapped in the round-about big doors, not big enough to move them and blocking others from entering to give them a push. All in all, it was an emotional day -- for Con and me.
Old Time Rock n Roll
Courtney’s boyfriend and Courtney surprised us with floor tickets (Row 12) to one of our favourite performer, Bob Seger, who rocked the Saddledome in an awesome concert. The guy beside me sang so loud it was hard to hear Bob! There wasn't an empty seat in the dome.
We drove 1.5 hours to Red Deer to celebrate Easter together as a family, hosted by Lindsey and Les. Even my mom flew in from Brentwood Bay.
Below: Mom, Con and I visit Elserine, Hugo; Brit, Kris, Nolan, Torri, meet up with Bryant, Nick, and Dex in Saskatoon (with us); Dex and Hailey hanging out in Calgary; mom visits Red Deer for Easter; Bob Segar concert; and the kids at the zoo.
Marina Di Ragusa, Sicily
April 13 – Big Sky was in perfect shape aside from the light sand blanket the Sahara Desert left during the three months we were away. We'd managed to travel around the world, starting in Sicily to Rome, Cairo, Bangkok, Thailand, Myanmar, Cambodia, Laos, Vietnam, Taiwan, Vancouver Island, Saskatchewan, Alberta, The Netherlands, and back to Sicily. Con managed all our travel itinerary and hotels, I handled the places to see and things to do and packing for three months and throughout all the seasons.
First thing in the morning, we walked to the now completed town square in shorts and t-shirts for a cappuccino and croissant, and sat under the sun looking out at the gorgeous blue blue sea pondering our upcoming sailing year.
April 19 – We're aiming Big Sky north to Sardinia. The Sahara Desert once top side is now at the bottom of the marina. North of us, Mt. Etna had been erupting for the past while and fingers crossed the wind doesn’t blow the ash our way. The marina folks have been saying their good bye’s and in a week, one hundred boats will be leaving for their sailing season.
Canadian's have a party A surprising number of Canadian's are in this marina and Noel and Ceu's hosted a Canadian-only party aboard their catamaran where we shared snacks and stories.
Forty-five Knots -- Bikes Go Overboard! Wind was blowing like a son-of-a-gun causing the pier to buckle and the boats to roll in the marina. When Con stepped out to check the lines and fenders, and our bikes which were locked together on the pier. Just as he climbed down the ladder a violent gust blew them overboard, and we watched them sink into the five meter mucky bottom. Using a neighbour’s grappling hook Con snagged one wheel and dragged them up, still locked together. The winds continued to pick up with white caps in the marina even causing me to fasten the stove-top clamps for cooking. the hot pot of lentil soup was heeling 20 degrees.
Toddler fell off the boat Laundry was drying topside and I'd positioned myself on the bow spit (bow in) soaking up Vitamin D and reading a book. I could hear the melodic sounds of a baby’s playful voice three boats down and across and then I heard a splash! I remained still, listening, expecting to hear the baby's song, or an adult scrambling to get to the baby, but nothing. I stood to see if I could spot the baby, but in that second, not seeing an adult, or the baby, I knew instinctively it went overboard.
“Hey!” I shouted as loud as my voice could carry. “The baby! The baby! Where’s the baby?”
Scrambling down the ladder, I sprinted to the boat spotting the father running from the other direction, having heard me from my boat, and he dove into the sea after the baby. I got to the boat to see the baby was head down, diaper up, no life jacket, and the father doing the front crawl at lightning speed toward the child. My eyes lifted to the boat, seeing that there was no netting around the topside, amazed that there was no netting and more so that the toddler had been left alone. The water was only about 15 degrees. The father lifted the baby to someone's waiting arms on the pier and I heard her cry. Such a good sound! Someone then brought a portable ladder for the father to get out. I gave the baby a great big smile, hoping to calm the terror in her face. A moment later, the mom climbed up the boat stairs topside to see what the commotion was all about. I sure hope they learned some goods lesson from this near fatal mistake: life jacket, netting, and one hundred percent of the time adult supervision.
April 13 – Big Sky was in perfect shape aside from the light sand blanket the Sahara Desert left during the three months we were away. We'd managed to travel around the world, starting in Sicily to Rome, Cairo, Bangkok, Thailand, Myanmar, Cambodia, Laos, Vietnam, Taiwan, Vancouver Island, Saskatchewan, Alberta, The Netherlands, and back to Sicily. Con managed all our travel itinerary and hotels, I handled the places to see and things to do and packing for three months and throughout all the seasons.
First thing in the morning, we walked to the now completed town square in shorts and t-shirts for a cappuccino and croissant, and sat under the sun looking out at the gorgeous blue blue sea pondering our upcoming sailing year.
April 19 – We're aiming Big Sky north to Sardinia. The Sahara Desert once top side is now at the bottom of the marina. North of us, Mt. Etna had been erupting for the past while and fingers crossed the wind doesn’t blow the ash our way. The marina folks have been saying their good bye’s and in a week, one hundred boats will be leaving for their sailing season.
Canadian's have a party A surprising number of Canadian's are in this marina and Noel and Ceu's hosted a Canadian-only party aboard their catamaran where we shared snacks and stories.
Forty-five Knots -- Bikes Go Overboard! Wind was blowing like a son-of-a-gun causing the pier to buckle and the boats to roll in the marina. When Con stepped out to check the lines and fenders, and our bikes which were locked together on the pier. Just as he climbed down the ladder a violent gust blew them overboard, and we watched them sink into the five meter mucky bottom. Using a neighbour’s grappling hook Con snagged one wheel and dragged them up, still locked together. The winds continued to pick up with white caps in the marina even causing me to fasten the stove-top clamps for cooking. the hot pot of lentil soup was heeling 20 degrees.
Toddler fell off the boat Laundry was drying topside and I'd positioned myself on the bow spit (bow in) soaking up Vitamin D and reading a book. I could hear the melodic sounds of a baby’s playful voice three boats down and across and then I heard a splash! I remained still, listening, expecting to hear the baby's song, or an adult scrambling to get to the baby, but nothing. I stood to see if I could spot the baby, but in that second, not seeing an adult, or the baby, I knew instinctively it went overboard.
“Hey!” I shouted as loud as my voice could carry. “The baby! The baby! Where’s the baby?”
Scrambling down the ladder, I sprinted to the boat spotting the father running from the other direction, having heard me from my boat, and he dove into the sea after the baby. I got to the boat to see the baby was head down, diaper up, no life jacket, and the father doing the front crawl at lightning speed toward the child. My eyes lifted to the boat, seeing that there was no netting around the topside, amazed that there was no netting and more so that the toddler had been left alone. The water was only about 15 degrees. The father lifted the baby to someone's waiting arms on the pier and I heard her cry. Such a good sound! Someone then brought a portable ladder for the father to get out. I gave the baby a great big smile, hoping to calm the terror in her face. A moment later, the mom climbed up the boat stairs topside to see what the commotion was all about. I sure hope they learned some goods lesson from this near fatal mistake: life jacket, netting, and one hundred percent of the time adult supervision.
Farewell to Friends
April 21 – Judy and Bruno hosted a party for friends (all of us from Kos) aboard their Oyster. Bruno (the chef) spoiled us with duck confit.
April 28 – We took our end-of-season departure from Marina di Ragusa, along with four other boats with our first stop, Licata. Dolphins joined us part of the way gliding along lazy-like at our bow. With a frozen shoulder (from an injury six months ago) Con is doing all the heavy work while I do all the driving.
May 5 -- Today is the big Donkey celebration day in Licata. I woke to an 8 am 21-gun salute, jumping out of bed and dressing in one motion. We didn't want to miss the dressed-up donkeys and horses scheduled to parade from the "to die for" cemetery (as Con refers to it as it has a brilliant view of the dazzling Mediterranean) into the city through the small streets. The event seemed quite disorganized. Con asked two young local boys what was going on, but they didn’t understand English. Con said, "C' on, you learn English in school!" They shrugged, then posed for the picture, and said in English, "Put it on Facebook?" They were dressed as the “barefoot sailors,” part of the ritual when tonight at 8 the real sailors run barefoot with the remains of Saint Angelo in an urn and dip him into the sea. Standing in what might have been the perfect spot, (unknowingly) Saint Angelo's remains were carried ceremoniously out of the church by dozens (maybe hundreds) mostly men, dressed in sailor suits, parading right passed us. It was so spectacular for some that right in front of us, two elderly women fainted within a few minutes of each other. Paramedics were on standby and sprinted to their aide. Hundreds lined the streets. The next morning, hundreds of people gathered at the harbour for two greasy pole events. One greasy pole hung over the water by a boat and this one below. The same idea: climb it and get the prize.
King of the Castle
Today they crowned the new king in the Netherlands as their queen abdicated. Con took advantage of his position at the top of the castle today claiming it for the Dutch -- even though the Dutch-born boy was refused a passport when he asked to have it back last year. We had a heck of a time finding our way up to the castle and asked two police officers for walking directions. They had no idea.
April 21 – Judy and Bruno hosted a party for friends (all of us from Kos) aboard their Oyster. Bruno (the chef) spoiled us with duck confit.
April 28 – We took our end-of-season departure from Marina di Ragusa, along with four other boats with our first stop, Licata. Dolphins joined us part of the way gliding along lazy-like at our bow. With a frozen shoulder (from an injury six months ago) Con is doing all the heavy work while I do all the driving.
May 5 -- Today is the big Donkey celebration day in Licata. I woke to an 8 am 21-gun salute, jumping out of bed and dressing in one motion. We didn't want to miss the dressed-up donkeys and horses scheduled to parade from the "to die for" cemetery (as Con refers to it as it has a brilliant view of the dazzling Mediterranean) into the city through the small streets. The event seemed quite disorganized. Con asked two young local boys what was going on, but they didn’t understand English. Con said, "C' on, you learn English in school!" They shrugged, then posed for the picture, and said in English, "Put it on Facebook?" They were dressed as the “barefoot sailors,” part of the ritual when tonight at 8 the real sailors run barefoot with the remains of Saint Angelo in an urn and dip him into the sea. Standing in what might have been the perfect spot, (unknowingly) Saint Angelo's remains were carried ceremoniously out of the church by dozens (maybe hundreds) mostly men, dressed in sailor suits, parading right passed us. It was so spectacular for some that right in front of us, two elderly women fainted within a few minutes of each other. Paramedics were on standby and sprinted to their aide. Hundreds lined the streets. The next morning, hundreds of people gathered at the harbour for two greasy pole events. One greasy pole hung over the water by a boat and this one below. The same idea: climb it and get the prize.
King of the Castle
Today they crowned the new king in the Netherlands as their queen abdicated. Con took advantage of his position at the top of the castle today claiming it for the Dutch -- even though the Dutch-born boy was refused a passport when he asked to have it back last year. We had a heck of a time finding our way up to the castle and asked two police officers for walking directions. They had no idea.
May 10 -- Keith and Angie untied us this morning, and we said our “good-byes”. We’ve wintered with them in Messolonghi, Kos, Marina di Ragusa, and now Licata. They’re heading toward the Ionian Sea. Our trek took us 171 NM (26 hours) from Licata to beautiful Monastir with 15-20 knot tapering off winds. I swallowed anti seasickness medicine, unfortunately, the drowsy kind causing me a real challenge staying awake on my shifts. During my night shift, a large freighter continued toward us on a collision course. I continued watching for twenty minutes, but when the ship hadn't changed course, I cut the engine and called him on the VHF. In a friendly voice, I told him I would alter my course slightly with an intention to go behind him. He agreed he would alter his course to port giving a wider berth. Con came out from his sleep to watch (as it was the most exciting issue through the whole crossing). When we finally settled back into our route, we looked behind us and our jaws dropped when we saw a massive-sized freighter had snuck up on us and rumbled passed our stern. It was as if we were the ham in the middle of a sandwich.
TUNISIA
I was struggling with a useless arm, a frozen shoulder and did the docking in Monastir so Con could handle the lines. The Cap Monastir Marina Capitainne helped tie us on, saying, "Welcome back!" He remembered us (or Big Sky) from our five-month stay in 2008/2009 when we had to return to Canada for Con's health and business. The next step was dealing with the Customs and Immigration. The last time we entered Tunisia (in Kelibia) we had two big burly agents board and they went through everything asking for a "souvenir" or graft and left with two Lindt chocolate bars -- likely less than they had hoped for. This time, however, two friendly guys boarded and didn't ask for a thing. We'd prepared in advance, purchasing two 4.99 euro bottles of whiskey; 5.99 vodka, four Lindt chocolate bars. Whiskey and vodka in Monistir is absurdly expensive, 130 dinar (about 70 euro), and the chocolate bars about 5 euro. Likely once they spotted the liquor, they knew they weren't of high value. We washed up and went out to explore this authentic Arabic African city and see if anything has changed since the revolution a few years ago.
May 14 -- Happy birthday to one of the most beautiful souls, our granddaughter Hailey, who turned four today.
TUNISIA
I was struggling with a useless arm, a frozen shoulder and did the docking in Monastir so Con could handle the lines. The Cap Monastir Marina Capitainne helped tie us on, saying, "Welcome back!" He remembered us (or Big Sky) from our five-month stay in 2008/2009 when we had to return to Canada for Con's health and business. The next step was dealing with the Customs and Immigration. The last time we entered Tunisia (in Kelibia) we had two big burly agents board and they went through everything asking for a "souvenir" or graft and left with two Lindt chocolate bars -- likely less than they had hoped for. This time, however, two friendly guys boarded and didn't ask for a thing. We'd prepared in advance, purchasing two 4.99 euro bottles of whiskey; 5.99 vodka, four Lindt chocolate bars. Whiskey and vodka in Monistir is absurdly expensive, 130 dinar (about 70 euro), and the chocolate bars about 5 euro. Likely once they spotted the liquor, they knew they weren't of high value. We washed up and went out to explore this authentic Arabic African city and see if anything has changed since the revolution a few years ago.
May 14 -- Happy birthday to one of the most beautiful souls, our granddaughter Hailey, who turned four today.
Lucky that cats have nine lives We untied believing we’d have a quick refuel at the Monistir fuel dock, but a big tour boat came into view and then tied at the dock. "Five minutes," they called to us. I circled for 50 minutes waiting, waiting, waiting and then heard, "Don’t use engine - no engine! La chat, la chat, la chat!" (French and Arabic are spoken in Tunisia.) I put Big Sky into neutral and then saw la chat -- a drowning cat trying to find a landing spot on our boat – an impossibility. It was swimming for its life, getting weaker and weaker and we could see the desperation in its little eyes. Con got out our big net, but Big Sky is too high and we couldn't reach him. Con attempted to scoop the cat unsuccessfully, with dozens watching on shore. Later we laughed at how hilarious it would have been if we’d have caught it and then let it go on Big Sky. It’s a wild cat, and the cats in Monastir are like no others we’ve encountered, they’re fierce warriors. Each time Con tried to snag it in the net, it would swim out. It finally swam toward the concrete wall where one of the twenty or so fishermen had been calling, "psss, psss, psss." The proud rescuer then motioned to us to come and get it from his net, "Whiskey! Whiskey!"
I called back, "He's not our cat."
Eventually we motored to the quay for diesel, taking on 860 litres at about 78 cents with a savings in the four digits.
I called back, "He's not our cat."
Eventually we motored to the quay for diesel, taking on 860 litres at about 78 cents with a savings in the four digits.
Oops Wrong North African Country
We walked around the Tunisian city seeking a place for a good tangine meal and restaurant after restaurant kept getting, “Not here,” until finally a man with his arms crossed offered, “It’s a Moroccan dish.” Ooops.
The government subsidizes the bread and fuel here, and as visitors, we benefit by enjoying .09 CDN baguettes and .78 CND diesel per litre.
A waiter expressed comments to us about the current (gesturing a beard) government saying that it was not good. An election will take place in the fall and he is confident they will be out. He said, however, that there is a major difference in the government today from before the Spring Revolution and that is that he can talk freely about the government.
Yesterday, we witnessed a horse being whipped to perform a task too difficult. He was attached to a wagon heavily laden with rocks – far too many for the skinny horse, let alone the fact that it was unshod and slipping on the cobblestoned road, nearly doing the splits. It was shocking to observe. Blood poured from its shins. When the two men eventually had the horse back into position, they dumped out the contents of the cart which the horse was attached to and the horse went over with it. Panic was written all over the horses face. I could have cried, but didn’t think it was a safe idea to speak out since there were many men standing around and it’s not my country.
Then today, I told the driver of a horse-drawn carriage, "No," when he asked if we'd like a ride. We'd just watched him whip the horse's back with a stick to make it gallop uphill on the cobblestones in the heat. He asked why, and I called over my shoulder, "Because it's cruel to hit the horse."
He whipped the horse into a trot to catch up to me and called out, “My horse smells better than you.” Con laughed and laughed. Knowing the man was circling the park, I sped walked ahead of Con to the other side of the park surprising the man when I confronted him, “I didn't say your horse smells, I said it's cruel to hit it, AND, it’s rude to say I smell.”
He said humbly, head down, “I don’t hit my horse.”
I looked at him skeptically, then he said, “Okay.”
I said, “Okay.”
He said, “Sorry, I don't understand."
Con caught up to us and hearing the last exchange of conversation just laughed again.
We walked around the Tunisian city seeking a place for a good tangine meal and restaurant after restaurant kept getting, “Not here,” until finally a man with his arms crossed offered, “It’s a Moroccan dish.” Ooops.
The government subsidizes the bread and fuel here, and as visitors, we benefit by enjoying .09 CDN baguettes and .78 CND diesel per litre.
A waiter expressed comments to us about the current (gesturing a beard) government saying that it was not good. An election will take place in the fall and he is confident they will be out. He said, however, that there is a major difference in the government today from before the Spring Revolution and that is that he can talk freely about the government.
Yesterday, we witnessed a horse being whipped to perform a task too difficult. He was attached to a wagon heavily laden with rocks – far too many for the skinny horse, let alone the fact that it was unshod and slipping on the cobblestoned road, nearly doing the splits. It was shocking to observe. Blood poured from its shins. When the two men eventually had the horse back into position, they dumped out the contents of the cart which the horse was attached to and the horse went over with it. Panic was written all over the horses face. I could have cried, but didn’t think it was a safe idea to speak out since there were many men standing around and it’s not my country.
Then today, I told the driver of a horse-drawn carriage, "No," when he asked if we'd like a ride. We'd just watched him whip the horse's back with a stick to make it gallop uphill on the cobblestones in the heat. He asked why, and I called over my shoulder, "Because it's cruel to hit the horse."
He whipped the horse into a trot to catch up to me and called out, “My horse smells better than you.” Con laughed and laughed. Knowing the man was circling the park, I sped walked ahead of Con to the other side of the park surprising the man when I confronted him, “I didn't say your horse smells, I said it's cruel to hit it, AND, it’s rude to say I smell.”
He said humbly, head down, “I don’t hit my horse.”
I looked at him skeptically, then he said, “Okay.”
I said, “Okay.”
He said, “Sorry, I don't understand."
Con caught up to us and hearing the last exchange of conversation just laughed again.
May 19 -- Remembering Larry Radu who would have been 61 this year, taken too young at the age of 49.
May 22 -- We left Monastir, Tunisia with a plan to take the weather window to Sardinia knowing it would be a long sail, but wanting to keep ahead of the strong winds and stormy weather that would chase us. And it did. The first few hours of the sail were pleasant and the sea calm and then it picked up, blowing from the east as predicted. We arrived many hours ahead of schedule, 33.5 hours later. At times we clocked nine knots. Sea sickness attacked me again, making it an unbalanced sharing of the watch. Con spotted a swordfish jumping near Big Sky and of course, the friendly dolphins swam beside us for a short while.
Once safely tied in the Cagliari marina, we slept soundly until 2:30 am when the storm arrived lighting up the sky like a laser-light show. Later that day, we hiked five kilometres to complete what became a three-hour check-in procedure with Port Authorities and Police (to get the proper passport and boat papers signed). Why is it so often like THE FIRST TIME they’ve ever done it?
We celebrated our successful check-in into Schengen with what was being advertised as a "traditional Sardinian" meal. I ordered Roast Pork which was ninety percent fat and Con ordered Donkey Stew (yes he really did -- making an Ass of himself, wouldn't you say?). The woman asked "why?" when she pointed to the crispy fat left on my plate? We passed on the offer to have Horse Steak. Our meal was served with celery, tomatoes and unwashed radishes (still with garden dirt on them).
May 22 -- We left Monastir, Tunisia with a plan to take the weather window to Sardinia knowing it would be a long sail, but wanting to keep ahead of the strong winds and stormy weather that would chase us. And it did. The first few hours of the sail were pleasant and the sea calm and then it picked up, blowing from the east as predicted. We arrived many hours ahead of schedule, 33.5 hours later. At times we clocked nine knots. Sea sickness attacked me again, making it an unbalanced sharing of the watch. Con spotted a swordfish jumping near Big Sky and of course, the friendly dolphins swam beside us for a short while.
Once safely tied in the Cagliari marina, we slept soundly until 2:30 am when the storm arrived lighting up the sky like a laser-light show. Later that day, we hiked five kilometres to complete what became a three-hour check-in procedure with Port Authorities and Police (to get the proper passport and boat papers signed). Why is it so often like THE FIRST TIME they’ve ever done it?
We celebrated our successful check-in into Schengen with what was being advertised as a "traditional Sardinian" meal. I ordered Roast Pork which was ninety percent fat and Con ordered Donkey Stew (yes he really did -- making an Ass of himself, wouldn't you say?). The woman asked "why?" when she pointed to the crispy fat left on my plate? We passed on the offer to have Horse Steak. Our meal was served with celery, tomatoes and unwashed radishes (still with garden dirt on them).
Dumping the Muddy Waters
We opened all the taps and let the tanks empty, dumping the muddy waters (not of course the Father of Blues, Muddy Waters but the muddy-tasting Tunisian water that we filled up our tanks with). The Cagliari, Sardinia marina fish are enjoying the fresh, however muddy tasting water streaming from our boat. The wind is picking up and should be with us for many days again. We’re patting ourselves on the back for leaving when we did. The sky filled with a delightful glistening pink colour when flamingos flew overhead. Shortly after, a flock of storks were trying to make landfall in the Mistral (the north winds that are blowing).
We’ll rent a car to tour the Mediterranean's second largest island. Which one is the largest, you ask, Sicily!
May 26 -- Touring Cagliari, Sardinia
With our hiking sandals well affixed to our feet, we hiked up to the Bastione San Remy, the centre of the Old Quarter situated high above the city of Cagliari. Sunday, the book boosts a great market, but we didn’t see one, however it’s beautiful. A word about Italian Pizza. Con and I have to give a failing mark, but their ice cream gets an A+.
May 29 -- Military Activity!
Never fails, when Con says, “Can't get much better than this,” something happens. We had perfect winds, perfect sea, in our full-day journey to Arbatax, when the military appeared stealth-like beside us. They never use the radio to communicate and besides they do not speak English. Shouting from their boat to ours in Italian, we understood that we could NOT carry on our route (north) until noon which was two hours away. We hugged the coast drifting south from our intended course, and then at 11 am we heard a missile. The natural impulse is to duck. We couldn’t tell if it came from sea or air. When noon arrived, we tentatively reset out course, keeping a good lookout for further military activity.
We opened all the taps and let the tanks empty, dumping the muddy waters (not of course the Father of Blues, Muddy Waters but the muddy-tasting Tunisian water that we filled up our tanks with). The Cagliari, Sardinia marina fish are enjoying the fresh, however muddy tasting water streaming from our boat. The wind is picking up and should be with us for many days again. We’re patting ourselves on the back for leaving when we did. The sky filled with a delightful glistening pink colour when flamingos flew overhead. Shortly after, a flock of storks were trying to make landfall in the Mistral (the north winds that are blowing).
We’ll rent a car to tour the Mediterranean's second largest island. Which one is the largest, you ask, Sicily!
May 26 -- Touring Cagliari, Sardinia
With our hiking sandals well affixed to our feet, we hiked up to the Bastione San Remy, the centre of the Old Quarter situated high above the city of Cagliari. Sunday, the book boosts a great market, but we didn’t see one, however it’s beautiful. A word about Italian Pizza. Con and I have to give a failing mark, but their ice cream gets an A+.
May 29 -- Military Activity!
Never fails, when Con says, “Can't get much better than this,” something happens. We had perfect winds, perfect sea, in our full-day journey to Arbatax, when the military appeared stealth-like beside us. They never use the radio to communicate and besides they do not speak English. Shouting from their boat to ours in Italian, we understood that we could NOT carry on our route (north) until noon which was two hours away. We hugged the coast drifting south from our intended course, and then at 11 am we heard a missile. The natural impulse is to duck. We couldn’t tell if it came from sea or air. When noon arrived, we tentatively reset out course, keeping a good lookout for further military activity.
Touring Sardinia's south end
In a one-day rental ($60 euro) we explored Sardinia's southern end. It's Monday, and Italy is closed! We saw flamingos west of our marina, and watched them fly overhead each night. We visited the large salty swampy wetland, one of seven places in the world where you can spot these large unique birds. They get their rich pink and red colours from the purple crustaceans they eat. They are in abundance around Cagliari during the winter. They’re stunningly prehistoric looking in flight.
June 1-3- Touring Sardinia West
Now, with a four-day rental, we drove west toward the sea cutting through the spectacular mountains to Alghero on the sea. The mountain peaks are jagged, volcanic craters, deep gorges, all covered in a patchwork of green grasses and dense evergreen shrubs, junipers, strawberry trees (yes they're trees), sage, thyme, cactus, ivy... Man-made nuraghi's left over from the stone ages are scattered everywhere. These are tall stone structures held up by the weight of the stones alone. Dig deeper, if you like caving because there are stalagmite caves in them-there limestone mountains. Our first night's stay was north of Alghero, in a nice, simple sea-side hotel. (A four star which was really like a three star, with a five-star view and five-star price.) To get there, we drove through so many unique mountain villages. We stopped in Nuoro, during their national holiday, "Republic Day," where "Italians celebrate booting out the royal family in 1946. I bet that scared a few royal families around the world! The towns are really pretty and quite different from Sicily, it’s big brother island.
We drove through a beautiful cork forest. The cork bark is thick to protect the tree from the Mediterranean weather, drought, fire, etc., but light-weight and water proof. People strip the tree every eight to fifteen years harvesting the cork for wine stoppers, flooring, art work, purses... The cork grows back! There's an abundance of wildlife, and in fact wild boar live in the cork forests. We saw a massive-sized pig running free near the road, so maybe it was a wild boar.
The next day we went to Porto Cervo, the playground of the rich and famous -- made famous by the Aga Khan. To moor Big Sky there would have cost 460 euro a night! Anchoring is no problem, but if you come to shore, there is a 32 euro dingy charge!
The day after, visited Santa Teresa di Gallura on the northeast end of the island, and could see Corsica. We hiked up bougainvillea draped hillside to Santa Maria Navarrese named after the Medieval church.
Remembering Dad
June 1st, my dad would have been 88.
In a one-day rental ($60 euro) we explored Sardinia's southern end. It's Monday, and Italy is closed! We saw flamingos west of our marina, and watched them fly overhead each night. We visited the large salty swampy wetland, one of seven places in the world where you can spot these large unique birds. They get their rich pink and red colours from the purple crustaceans they eat. They are in abundance around Cagliari during the winter. They’re stunningly prehistoric looking in flight.
June 1-3- Touring Sardinia West
Now, with a four-day rental, we drove west toward the sea cutting through the spectacular mountains to Alghero on the sea. The mountain peaks are jagged, volcanic craters, deep gorges, all covered in a patchwork of green grasses and dense evergreen shrubs, junipers, strawberry trees (yes they're trees), sage, thyme, cactus, ivy... Man-made nuraghi's left over from the stone ages are scattered everywhere. These are tall stone structures held up by the weight of the stones alone. Dig deeper, if you like caving because there are stalagmite caves in them-there limestone mountains. Our first night's stay was north of Alghero, in a nice, simple sea-side hotel. (A four star which was really like a three star, with a five-star view and five-star price.) To get there, we drove through so many unique mountain villages. We stopped in Nuoro, during their national holiday, "Republic Day," where "Italians celebrate booting out the royal family in 1946. I bet that scared a few royal families around the world! The towns are really pretty and quite different from Sicily, it’s big brother island.
We drove through a beautiful cork forest. The cork bark is thick to protect the tree from the Mediterranean weather, drought, fire, etc., but light-weight and water proof. People strip the tree every eight to fifteen years harvesting the cork for wine stoppers, flooring, art work, purses... The cork grows back! There's an abundance of wildlife, and in fact wild boar live in the cork forests. We saw a massive-sized pig running free near the road, so maybe it was a wild boar.
The next day we went to Porto Cervo, the playground of the rich and famous -- made famous by the Aga Khan. To moor Big Sky there would have cost 460 euro a night! Anchoring is no problem, but if you come to shore, there is a 32 euro dingy charge!
The day after, visited Santa Teresa di Gallura on the northeast end of the island, and could see Corsica. We hiked up bougainvillea draped hillside to Santa Maria Navarrese named after the Medieval church.
Remembering Dad
June 1st, my dad would have been 88.
Back Aboard
June 7 – I stocked the freezer with prepared meals and Con topped up the water tanks (1600 litres) and we set off for a cozy anchorage along Sardinia’s eastern coast. It took six hours of motoring, but we found a great spot, the La Caletta marina and tucked in for the night.
June 9 -- We carried on, finding a nice bay to anchor. Looking at our neighbours, we realized our 52 foot sailing yacht is but a fly on the water with the huge yachts anchored around us. A luxury yacht, Sarafsa, whose beam is the width of our length just dropped anchor beside us. It's rumoured that the owner is a member of the Saudi Royal family and named her after their daughter Sara. It boasts of two spas, helipad and a car. And, on our other side, a yacht pictured has a water slide. Looks so fun.
Passing Porto Cervo, the marina that would have cost us 500 euro for one-night's stay, is the Alfa Nero valued (in 2007) at $190,000,000 was anchored just outside the entrance. It has a swimming pool, with a cover that transforms into a dance floor or helipad. “If they can afford the luxury yacht, they can afford the marina.” I looked them up online, the Alfa Nero holds 294,000 litres of fuel.
We sailed through three thunderstorms enjoying beautiful sunny breaks in between and were one of a few yachts at anchor in the Maddelana bay, a clump of islands on the north east side of Sardinia. The sailing books all warns: “Beware! Lots of rocks hidden beneath the surface.” About a dozen ships arrived later that day, but none arrived as dramatically as Big Sky. Moving into the bay slowly in six meters of water, our depth reader suddenly dropped to 2.9, and when we heard the crash, the reader read .8! I had been spotting on the starboard side, but the rock formation was directly under our keel and we wedged in between the massive-sized unmarked boulders, stopping with a lurch. Without hesitation, a power boat on our left let out his chain to come closer to us motioning that he could free us. Con threw him a line, and and sure enough, he pulled us free. It happened so fast, all we could say was “thanks!” The man nodded, and tightened his chain again. The next morning, Con dove into the 19 degree waters to check Big Sky’s keel for possible damage, but all was well. Five days later, (June 14th) we pulled up anchor and left the Italian island for the French one, Corsica.
June 7 – I stocked the freezer with prepared meals and Con topped up the water tanks (1600 litres) and we set off for a cozy anchorage along Sardinia’s eastern coast. It took six hours of motoring, but we found a great spot, the La Caletta marina and tucked in for the night.
June 9 -- We carried on, finding a nice bay to anchor. Looking at our neighbours, we realized our 52 foot sailing yacht is but a fly on the water with the huge yachts anchored around us. A luxury yacht, Sarafsa, whose beam is the width of our length just dropped anchor beside us. It's rumoured that the owner is a member of the Saudi Royal family and named her after their daughter Sara. It boasts of two spas, helipad and a car. And, on our other side, a yacht pictured has a water slide. Looks so fun.
Passing Porto Cervo, the marina that would have cost us 500 euro for one-night's stay, is the Alfa Nero valued (in 2007) at $190,000,000 was anchored just outside the entrance. It has a swimming pool, with a cover that transforms into a dance floor or helipad. “If they can afford the luxury yacht, they can afford the marina.” I looked them up online, the Alfa Nero holds 294,000 litres of fuel.
We sailed through three thunderstorms enjoying beautiful sunny breaks in between and were one of a few yachts at anchor in the Maddelana bay, a clump of islands on the north east side of Sardinia. The sailing books all warns: “Beware! Lots of rocks hidden beneath the surface.” About a dozen ships arrived later that day, but none arrived as dramatically as Big Sky. Moving into the bay slowly in six meters of water, our depth reader suddenly dropped to 2.9, and when we heard the crash, the reader read .8! I had been spotting on the starboard side, but the rock formation was directly under our keel and we wedged in between the massive-sized unmarked boulders, stopping with a lurch. Without hesitation, a power boat on our left let out his chain to come closer to us motioning that he could free us. Con threw him a line, and and sure enough, he pulled us free. It happened so fast, all we could say was “thanks!” The man nodded, and tightened his chain again. The next morning, Con dove into the 19 degree waters to check Big Sky’s keel for possible damage, but all was well. Five days later, (June 14th) we pulled up anchor and left the Italian island for the French one, Corsica.
Bonifacio, Corsica
June 15 – Corsica redefines the colour "turquoise" and with the sandstone and limestone cliffs at the south end of the island, it creates breathtaking contrasts making it one of the prettiest places we've visited. The streets are lined with quaint restaurants, ice cream stalls, and cafes. We hiked up to the top of the castle that overlooks the marina and let our eyes take in the sea south as far as we could.
Mid-June -- SUMMER HAS ARRIVED!
We booked in for two nostalgic days in the Bonifacio marina (about 75 euro per night including water and power) remembering our visit five years ago with our daughter Nick. We’ve returned to the land of Moule Frites (Mussels and french fries) one of Con's favourite.
Internet is our main necessity, for weather and to connect with family. We paid 32 euro in bus fare to Porto Vecchio to buy 20 euro worth of internet.
Once set with internet, we left Bonifacio we sailed motored out of the long steep gorge and then set sail along the beautiful blue Corsican coast. The sail was brilliant. The next morning, taking advantage of the east winds, we sailed further up the coast, "Oh, there seems to be another boat, maybe two," I said to Con passing the binoculars. We saw it was actually a regatta with 30 or more sailboats up ahead. We pulled into a perfect bay, completely private, and then all 30 regatta boats pulling in behind us and dropped their anchors. It was beautiful hot day. I put on my mask and snorkel and swam blissfully in the 24 degree water over to the anchor to give it a check. It was bliss for about 30 seconds until I spotted them -- pink and white jellyfish – everywhere! I girl-screamed through my snorkel and zig zagged through them and up the ladder like an Olympian.
By mid-afternoon, the regatta was on their way, leaving just us and a Norwegian couple who later came over upon invitation for snacks and cold white wine. Our new Norwegian friends motored over the next morning while we sipped morning latte's with a fresh chocolate croissants which Con had just acquired from the bakery on shore. We offered to share, but they kindly rejected. Shortly after breakfast, we lifted anchor and sailed the turquoise waters to another equally beautiful spot. The waters --so far-- appear jelly-fish free.
June 15 – Corsica redefines the colour "turquoise" and with the sandstone and limestone cliffs at the south end of the island, it creates breathtaking contrasts making it one of the prettiest places we've visited. The streets are lined with quaint restaurants, ice cream stalls, and cafes. We hiked up to the top of the castle that overlooks the marina and let our eyes take in the sea south as far as we could.
Mid-June -- SUMMER HAS ARRIVED!
We booked in for two nostalgic days in the Bonifacio marina (about 75 euro per night including water and power) remembering our visit five years ago with our daughter Nick. We’ve returned to the land of Moule Frites (Mussels and french fries) one of Con's favourite.
Internet is our main necessity, for weather and to connect with family. We paid 32 euro in bus fare to Porto Vecchio to buy 20 euro worth of internet.
Once set with internet, we left Bonifacio we sailed motored out of the long steep gorge and then set sail along the beautiful blue Corsican coast. The sail was brilliant. The next morning, taking advantage of the east winds, we sailed further up the coast, "Oh, there seems to be another boat, maybe two," I said to Con passing the binoculars. We saw it was actually a regatta with 30 or more sailboats up ahead. We pulled into a perfect bay, completely private, and then all 30 regatta boats pulling in behind us and dropped their anchors. It was beautiful hot day. I put on my mask and snorkel and swam blissfully in the 24 degree water over to the anchor to give it a check. It was bliss for about 30 seconds until I spotted them -- pink and white jellyfish – everywhere! I girl-screamed through my snorkel and zig zagged through them and up the ladder like an Olympian.
By mid-afternoon, the regatta was on their way, leaving just us and a Norwegian couple who later came over upon invitation for snacks and cold white wine. Our new Norwegian friends motored over the next morning while we sipped morning latte's with a fresh chocolate croissants which Con had just acquired from the bakery on shore. We offered to share, but they kindly rejected. Shortly after breakfast, we lifted anchor and sailed the turquoise waters to another equally beautiful spot. The waters --so far-- appear jelly-fish free.
Major Flooding in Alberta
June 23 -- Our thoughts are with family and friends as they struggle with the state of emergency flooding situation in Calgary and Canmore. Calgary's downtown was shut down Friday as the river overran Eau Claire and the Stampede grounds. All power and water were out in the downtown core. Twenty communities were on alert to relocate and many (100,000) were evacuated. We're sure the excellent work of thousands will get the city back in action. The Calgary Stampede is just nine days away.
June 23 -- Our thoughts are with family and friends as they struggle with the state of emergency flooding situation in Calgary and Canmore. Calgary's downtown was shut down Friday as the river overran Eau Claire and the Stampede grounds. All power and water were out in the downtown core. Twenty communities were on alert to relocate and many (100,000) were evacuated. We're sure the excellent work of thousands will get the city back in action. The Calgary Stampede is just nine days away.
Calvi -- We rode the 30- 40 knots south winds with 52 knot gusts to Calvi starting with a full main and genoa, gradually reefing smaller and smaller settling on a 7 knot double-reef. Arriving at the Calvi marina there was no room, be we did manage to strap onto a buoy just outside the marina. The worst of the storm was that night.
The anchorage was rocky and our next day's four-hour motor-sail to Port de Girolata, the UNESCO protected area was ridiculously unpleasant and exhausting. Hoping to drop anchor in 5 meters behind the castle protected by the south west winds, we were surprised seeing buoys. Marinara's appeared efficiently securing our lines (pictured). This area is only accessible by hikers or boats, there are no roads. The little village in the background is located at the heart of this area, in a large parcel of protected land. The wind was relentless, and through the night, the blow came directly at us through the corridor. Weather reports said the wind directions would split, meaning it would charge at us from the north and south at the same time. We rocked all night and in the morning took a place inside the marina for the summer price tag of 125 euro. The town is delightful, but touristy. Bruno told us to go to his friend’s restaurant, and they were expecting us. We arrived mid-afternoon, famished and had a fabulous meal, (pictured). The next morning, we took the north winds to another bay for better protection anticipating another large blow.
The anchorage was rocky and our next day's four-hour motor-sail to Port de Girolata, the UNESCO protected area was ridiculously unpleasant and exhausting. Hoping to drop anchor in 5 meters behind the castle protected by the south west winds, we were surprised seeing buoys. Marinara's appeared efficiently securing our lines (pictured). This area is only accessible by hikers or boats, there are no roads. The little village in the background is located at the heart of this area, in a large parcel of protected land. The wind was relentless, and through the night, the blow came directly at us through the corridor. Weather reports said the wind directions would split, meaning it would charge at us from the north and south at the same time. We rocked all night and in the morning took a place inside the marina for the summer price tag of 125 euro. The town is delightful, but touristy. Bruno told us to go to his friend’s restaurant, and they were expecting us. We arrived mid-afternoon, famished and had a fabulous meal, (pictured). The next morning, we took the north winds to another bay for better protection anticipating another large blow.
We're changing countries like we're changing socks. Just this month: Tunisia, Italy (Sardinia), and France (Corsica) now we were off to the French Riviera.
To Nice
The anticipated winds came and continued to mount. Weather websites indicated that the best opportunity for an overnight sail to arrive in Nice in daylight hours would be a 5 pm departure. We left the marina, motored around the corner ready to plant the anchor ready to depart, early evening, but we no sooner made that plan and the winds changed creating an impossible anchorage. Instead, we kept going, riding the winds throughout the rest of the day and throughout the night. Waves grew in size, breaking topside as high as the bottom of the genoa! A few times we heeled so dramatically we nearly put the rail in the water. he sail was thrilling from the perspective of visitors. Three whales swam nearby, just a few hundred meters from our starboard stern. A moment later, we spotted an enormous turtle. The turtle was so interesting that we circled back just to have another look at the amazing sea creature. Dolphins were feeding a few hundred meters behind us, too busy to visit.
We arrived in the Nice harbour just as the sun was rising, 21 hours later, but a day ahead of our one-week reservation. We called on the VHF hoping they’d have a spot for the night. We actually hoped we could finagle a second week and visit Monaco, Cannes, and St. Tropes by train and even visit relatives in northern France. Idling in the harbour, waiting for the "okay" from the American-accented marinara we learned that we were actually one week ahead of schedule. Our reservation didn't begin for another eight days.
“Wait, wait, wait," he called across the water. "I’ll see what I can do.”
We idled some more and then he jumped into his zodiac and helped dock us beside a super yacht, right at the Nice quay! It was a fantastic spot, too small to fit another super yacht, but just right for us. He said we were good to go for the extra week.
To Nice
The anticipated winds came and continued to mount. Weather websites indicated that the best opportunity for an overnight sail to arrive in Nice in daylight hours would be a 5 pm departure. We left the marina, motored around the corner ready to plant the anchor ready to depart, early evening, but we no sooner made that plan and the winds changed creating an impossible anchorage. Instead, we kept going, riding the winds throughout the rest of the day and throughout the night. Waves grew in size, breaking topside as high as the bottom of the genoa! A few times we heeled so dramatically we nearly put the rail in the water. he sail was thrilling from the perspective of visitors. Three whales swam nearby, just a few hundred meters from our starboard stern. A moment later, we spotted an enormous turtle. The turtle was so interesting that we circled back just to have another look at the amazing sea creature. Dolphins were feeding a few hundred meters behind us, too busy to visit.
We arrived in the Nice harbour just as the sun was rising, 21 hours later, but a day ahead of our one-week reservation. We called on the VHF hoping they’d have a spot for the night. We actually hoped we could finagle a second week and visit Monaco, Cannes, and St. Tropes by train and even visit relatives in northern France. Idling in the harbour, waiting for the "okay" from the American-accented marinara we learned that we were actually one week ahead of schedule. Our reservation didn't begin for another eight days.
“Wait, wait, wait," he called across the water. "I’ll see what I can do.”
We idled some more and then he jumped into his zodiac and helped dock us beside a super yacht, right at the Nice quay! It was a fantastic spot, too small to fit another super yacht, but just right for us. He said we were good to go for the extra week.
Monaco
June 29, 2013 – Nice to Monaco was a twenty minutes by bus, and two euro each. Monaco is the second smallest country in the world, behind the Vatican City, located on the French Riviera, where it seems, money just rolls down the streets. This is our 47th country since starting our journey in 2007. We got off the city bus in front of the famous Monte Carlo casino, the site of plenty of James Bond movies. Monte Carlo is one of the four quarters that makes up Monaco. Monaco is built vertically on rocky cliffs making it a dramatic walk, if not exhausting. The Formula One Grand Prix takes place here, and it’s the home of Ringo Starr, Bono (U2) Roger Moore, and other famous folks. We circled Prince Albert's house and the two breath-taking marinas.
Uniformed police officers seem to come out of the rocks and crevasses. In fact, it has the largest police presence per capita in the world, also the highest GDP per capita, the lowest unemployment (0 percent), the lowest poverty rate, the highest millionaires and billionaires per capita, and the most expensive real estate in the world. It is a tax haven; there’s no personal tax on its residents.
An interesting fact: if Prince Rainier hadn't produced an heir, Monaco would have reverted back to France. He married American actress Grace Kelly three days after meeting her. She died in a car accident in 1982, but not before producing an heir -- the current Prince Albert.
Nice is gearing up for the arrival of the Tour de France in a few days. Race staging took place from Porto-Vecchio to Bastia, Corsica and soon they'll arrive by ferry and plane directly into Nice to begin the most grueling bike race in the world, speeding directly past the bow of our boat July 2nd.
June 29, 2013 – Nice to Monaco was a twenty minutes by bus, and two euro each. Monaco is the second smallest country in the world, behind the Vatican City, located on the French Riviera, where it seems, money just rolls down the streets. This is our 47th country since starting our journey in 2007. We got off the city bus in front of the famous Monte Carlo casino, the site of plenty of James Bond movies. Monte Carlo is one of the four quarters that makes up Monaco. Monaco is built vertically on rocky cliffs making it a dramatic walk, if not exhausting. The Formula One Grand Prix takes place here, and it’s the home of Ringo Starr, Bono (U2) Roger Moore, and other famous folks. We circled Prince Albert's house and the two breath-taking marinas.
Uniformed police officers seem to come out of the rocks and crevasses. In fact, it has the largest police presence per capita in the world, also the highest GDP per capita, the lowest unemployment (0 percent), the lowest poverty rate, the highest millionaires and billionaires per capita, and the most expensive real estate in the world. It is a tax haven; there’s no personal tax on its residents.
An interesting fact: if Prince Rainier hadn't produced an heir, Monaco would have reverted back to France. He married American actress Grace Kelly three days after meeting her. She died in a car accident in 1982, but not before producing an heir -- the current Prince Albert.
Nice is gearing up for the arrival of the Tour de France in a few days. Race staging took place from Porto-Vecchio to Bastia, Corsica and soon they'll arrive by ferry and plane directly into Nice to begin the most grueling bike race in the world, speeding directly past the bow of our boat July 2nd.
Cannes
June 30 – Racing has begun with amateur trials and streets are blocked. We took a 35-minute train ride to the gorgeous town of Cannes, where the famous Film Festival takes place each year. The place was in blue floral blooms that went along the beach border for as far as we could see. Green parks on one side of the town, flowers on the other. I put my hand in Sharon Stone's hand print on the sidewalk. A few actors have their feet (in shoes) printed on the sidewalk. Their shoe size is smaller than mine and I don’t have large feet.
Eze
July 1 – Our plan was to catch the 11 am bus to the beautiful village of Eze located high on a rugged cliff overlooking the blue blue blue French Riviera. We learned the hard way that Eze (we'd been pronouncing EZZ) is actually pronounced ESS. When we'd asked a half dozen people where the bus to "EZZ" is, we now know why they kindly redirected us back to NICE. We set off to visit the famous Galimand Perfume Factory and participate in the 3 pm workshop followed by a tour of the perfume factory and a chance to make our own frangrance using three of ten fragrances offered. However, it didn't turn out quite like that. This is how the day progressed...
10:30 a.m. Walked with determination to bus stop (in case it came early).
10:35 a.m. Stepped in a fresh pile of dog crap left in the centre of the sidewalk. (The French DO NOT pick up.) Walked in puddles, dragged left foot on sidewalk, cursed, stomped in grassy area (the small part not covered in dog crap), cursed again, when upon inspection was still in the crevasses of my Eco sandals.
11 a.m. Bus was late.
11:30 a.m. Bus drove passed too full to stop.
11:45 p.m. Starved.
12:15 p.m. Climbed aboard a different bus going in the same general direction.
12:30 p.m. Got off at the wrong location. (The French bus drivers don't give directions.)
12:45 p.m. Starved
1:45 p.m. Still waiting for the bus to Eze. Still starved.
2:15 p.m. Climbed aboard another bus; transfer expired; bought new tickets; travelled five minutes to another stop.
2:35 p.m. Finally, got on bus for the Eze Village (beautiful)
2:45 p.m. Grabbed sandwich to eat
2:59 p.m. Arrived for workshop; paid 20 euro; ushered sprint-like passed the Factory museum and various kilns, urns, and other perfume-making equipment; told to smell contents in ten separate jars and to chose three.
We did, mixed it, capped it and were ushered out! I was unable to smell anything as the whole factory smells like we were walking in one giant perfume bottle. The end result: Mine smelled like the stuff still stuck on the bottom of my left sandal. (No, it really did smell nice.)
Eze is perhaps one of the most beautiful little villages we've seen, with an intact castle towering over the town from the highest cliff. At the very top of the castle (a good climb which we did) is a Le Jardin d'Eze -- a garden. It was built in 1949 and not an easy feat as people had to carry up all the soil and plants without the use of vehicles. The panorama from the top really takes your breath away.
Monaco is about 6 km away; Cannes about 35 km further.
June 30 – Racing has begun with amateur trials and streets are blocked. We took a 35-minute train ride to the gorgeous town of Cannes, where the famous Film Festival takes place each year. The place was in blue floral blooms that went along the beach border for as far as we could see. Green parks on one side of the town, flowers on the other. I put my hand in Sharon Stone's hand print on the sidewalk. A few actors have their feet (in shoes) printed on the sidewalk. Their shoe size is smaller than mine and I don’t have large feet.
Eze
July 1 – Our plan was to catch the 11 am bus to the beautiful village of Eze located high on a rugged cliff overlooking the blue blue blue French Riviera. We learned the hard way that Eze (we'd been pronouncing EZZ) is actually pronounced ESS. When we'd asked a half dozen people where the bus to "EZZ" is, we now know why they kindly redirected us back to NICE. We set off to visit the famous Galimand Perfume Factory and participate in the 3 pm workshop followed by a tour of the perfume factory and a chance to make our own frangrance using three of ten fragrances offered. However, it didn't turn out quite like that. This is how the day progressed...
10:30 a.m. Walked with determination to bus stop (in case it came early).
10:35 a.m. Stepped in a fresh pile of dog crap left in the centre of the sidewalk. (The French DO NOT pick up.) Walked in puddles, dragged left foot on sidewalk, cursed, stomped in grassy area (the small part not covered in dog crap), cursed again, when upon inspection was still in the crevasses of my Eco sandals.
11 a.m. Bus was late.
11:30 a.m. Bus drove passed too full to stop.
11:45 p.m. Starved.
12:15 p.m. Climbed aboard a different bus going in the same general direction.
12:30 p.m. Got off at the wrong location. (The French bus drivers don't give directions.)
12:45 p.m. Starved
1:45 p.m. Still waiting for the bus to Eze. Still starved.
2:15 p.m. Climbed aboard another bus; transfer expired; bought new tickets; travelled five minutes to another stop.
2:35 p.m. Finally, got on bus for the Eze Village (beautiful)
2:45 p.m. Grabbed sandwich to eat
2:59 p.m. Arrived for workshop; paid 20 euro; ushered sprint-like passed the Factory museum and various kilns, urns, and other perfume-making equipment; told to smell contents in ten separate jars and to chose three.
We did, mixed it, capped it and were ushered out! I was unable to smell anything as the whole factory smells like we were walking in one giant perfume bottle. The end result: Mine smelled like the stuff still stuck on the bottom of my left sandal. (No, it really did smell nice.)
Eze is perhaps one of the most beautiful little villages we've seen, with an intact castle towering over the town from the highest cliff. At the very top of the castle (a good climb which we did) is a Le Jardin d'Eze -- a garden. It was built in 1949 and not an easy feat as people had to carry up all the soil and plants without the use of vehicles. The panorama from the top really takes your breath away.
Monaco is about 6 km away; Cannes about 35 km further.
Tour de France!
July 2 -- The athletes arrived in Nice from Corsica for the TEAM TIME TRIALS. Tomorrow, they begin the grueling 228.5 kilometers from Cagnes-Sur-Mer (near Nice) to Marseille. The Tour de France is a 21-day event over 23 days and the riders cover 3,200 kilometres.
The streets of Nice were lined with spectators wearing sponsor hats, (like us) jerseys, waving flags, and cheering on the riders as they sped past at 55 KMH. At times, we had to tuck our hand and heads back behind the barricade because the peloton would sometimes hug the barricade we stood behind. Our location was the "Gold Medal" spot! We could see them both coming and going. The Time Trial riders started on the other side of the street and finished right in front of us. It was no easy feat for Con and me to stand for five hours watching the event -- BUT WE DID! Behind us is Nice's beautiful promenade and beyond that the beach and blue water. There was activity everywhere, people on the beach, in the water, in the air, and lining the streets.
And into another world
July 3 -- Topaz the luxury motor yacht snuck in behind us as we were washing Big Sky this morning. It's owned by 44-year-old Mansour bin Zayed Al Nahyan, a Deputy Prime Minister of the United Arab Emirate (UAE), member of the ruling family of Abu Dhabi, and half-brother of the current president of UAE. He owns a stake in Virgin Galactic, (among many interests) the company that plans to send tourists into space. Topaz is the worth 400 million pounds, roughly $530,000,000 and is the fourth largest super yacht in the world. We could nearly fit two Big Sky's inside (width wise). I guess if you're Sheikh Mansour, and worth 15 billion pounds, and your family is the second richest royal family in the world, worth 400 billion to 1 trillion pounds, affording this toy is child's play.
July 2 -- The athletes arrived in Nice from Corsica for the TEAM TIME TRIALS. Tomorrow, they begin the grueling 228.5 kilometers from Cagnes-Sur-Mer (near Nice) to Marseille. The Tour de France is a 21-day event over 23 days and the riders cover 3,200 kilometres.
The streets of Nice were lined with spectators wearing sponsor hats, (like us) jerseys, waving flags, and cheering on the riders as they sped past at 55 KMH. At times, we had to tuck our hand and heads back behind the barricade because the peloton would sometimes hug the barricade we stood behind. Our location was the "Gold Medal" spot! We could see them both coming and going. The Time Trial riders started on the other side of the street and finished right in front of us. It was no easy feat for Con and me to stand for five hours watching the event -- BUT WE DID! Behind us is Nice's beautiful promenade and beyond that the beach and blue water. There was activity everywhere, people on the beach, in the water, in the air, and lining the streets.
And into another world
July 3 -- Topaz the luxury motor yacht snuck in behind us as we were washing Big Sky this morning. It's owned by 44-year-old Mansour bin Zayed Al Nahyan, a Deputy Prime Minister of the United Arab Emirate (UAE), member of the ruling family of Abu Dhabi, and half-brother of the current president of UAE. He owns a stake in Virgin Galactic, (among many interests) the company that plans to send tourists into space. Topaz is the worth 400 million pounds, roughly $530,000,000 and is the fourth largest super yacht in the world. We could nearly fit two Big Sky's inside (width wise). I guess if you're Sheikh Mansour, and worth 15 billion pounds, and your family is the second richest royal family in the world, worth 400 billion to 1 trillion pounds, affording this toy is child's play.
July 6 -- Summertime in the Riviera
It's a freeway both on the water and above with luxury mega-yachts whizzing by (creating large waves) and helicopter after helicopter zipping overhead taking off from land and yacht, landing on yacht and land. The Cannes shoreline was a yacht parking lot. Finding a spot near the first island off Cannes we dropped anchor and enjoyed the activity around us and fell off into a peaceful slumber only waking to what we believed was WWIII. Racing topside, lights shot up into the night sky, breaking apart into colourful star-like lights falling around us. Fireworks! The next day we moved into a bay outside San Tropez and again watched super mega-yacht after super mega-yacht, helicopter after helicopter and competing for the noise and chaos awards were the tourist boats with loud speakers. We received a brief description of the history through those speakers: "In the early 1900s a man built the house with the green dome and today it's a six-unit apartment... The area grew as an artists haven and was the first place the Europeans and Americans jet set populated after WWII."
We carried on passing Chaos Coast right through elegant pink jellyfish infested waters. These ones were different from what we’re used to, they were pink, thicker, longer, with brown spots on their bulbous heads. Along our route to Marseille, we found plenty of calm but populated coves and bays to drop Bruce. We’ve been listening to a Pan Pan, Pan Pan, (a non-life threatening situation, but one where all boaters remain alert). The only problem was, they only broadcast it in French! We're on the lookout for either a "white table floating" or a "white boat with four people aboard with engine trouble". No idea.
It's a freeway both on the water and above with luxury mega-yachts whizzing by (creating large waves) and helicopter after helicopter zipping overhead taking off from land and yacht, landing on yacht and land. The Cannes shoreline was a yacht parking lot. Finding a spot near the first island off Cannes we dropped anchor and enjoyed the activity around us and fell off into a peaceful slumber only waking to what we believed was WWIII. Racing topside, lights shot up into the night sky, breaking apart into colourful star-like lights falling around us. Fireworks! The next day we moved into a bay outside San Tropez and again watched super mega-yacht after super mega-yacht, helicopter after helicopter and competing for the noise and chaos awards were the tourist boats with loud speakers. We received a brief description of the history through those speakers: "In the early 1900s a man built the house with the green dome and today it's a six-unit apartment... The area grew as an artists haven and was the first place the Europeans and Americans jet set populated after WWII."
We carried on passing Chaos Coast right through elegant pink jellyfish infested waters. These ones were different from what we’re used to, they were pink, thicker, longer, with brown spots on their bulbous heads. Along our route to Marseille, we found plenty of calm but populated coves and bays to drop Bruce. We’ve been listening to a Pan Pan, Pan Pan, (a non-life threatening situation, but one where all boaters remain alert). The only problem was, they only broadcast it in French! We're on the lookout for either a "white table floating" or a "white boat with four people aboard with engine trouble". No idea.
July 8 -- We woke today to heavy mist, which seems fitting as we remember Larry Radu taken too young this day twelve years ago. The sea and sky were the same colour, blending ever so subtly that we had to squint to distinguish what point claimed the horizon. With not a breath of wind, not a ripple on the sea, we lifted Bruce and slipped out of the bay quiet as mice with the only sound, the gentle purr of the engine and song birds. The sun rose in measured movement behind a gorgeous rock. The biggest fish Con had ever seen jumped right in front of the boat slipping with ease under the water without a ripple. A Canadair plane swooped down in front of us to collect a belly full of water, releasing it in a waterfall over the sea and then lined up to scoop again, flying off toward the green hills.
West to Marseille
July 11 -- Rising early for a ten-hour journey west along the southern coast of France, we were met with calm seas and a good beam wind. Midday, we knew we passed the mouth of the Rhone River (where it fed its silty guts into the blue Med) because the sea turned into a churning caldron. Again, we heard a couple of PAN PAN messages throughout the day on the VHF but again, but no idea what we should be on the lookout for, as again they were only in French.
Bon Jour Marseille
We've arrived at the cultural capital of Europe -- Marseille, docking Big Sky in the historic harbour along with 3,200 boats (mostly little dingy-sized ones) and stepped out into the heart of the town. Marseille is the second largest city in France with an impressive harbour that sees ferries and cruise ships coming and going from the African former French colonies as well as locations around the world. There’s a rich mix of colour and culture adding flavour to the city. On the street corner is a covered ceiling made of mirror, and further is the stunning building/museum that teases your eyes with what's real and what's canvass. I can’t imagine how the birds navigate since the majority of the piece is painted like sky. The top arch is real as is the front of the protruding portion on the left, but the centre and parts of the sides are painted canvass. On the canvass there are pieces of concrete building, so the whole thing is deceiving. Inside was a free museum of fantastic boat models dating back to the 1700s.
A sweaty hike took us to the top of the city, the Bascillica for a stunning panorama of the city and sea surrounding it. We followed the "pink" cultural line on the sidewalk that wandered up and down the old district. These treasures were hanging to dry in the window a story above our heads. When evening arrived, we dressed up in high heels (well, I did) and attended LesNuits an 18-person ballet. It was fabulous and broke all the rules of traditional ballet with odd movements that awed the audience. Like me, they didn't move, cough, or sneeze throughout the hour and a half, mesmerized by the perfection. The choreography was suburb.
West to Marseille
July 11 -- Rising early for a ten-hour journey west along the southern coast of France, we were met with calm seas and a good beam wind. Midday, we knew we passed the mouth of the Rhone River (where it fed its silty guts into the blue Med) because the sea turned into a churning caldron. Again, we heard a couple of PAN PAN messages throughout the day on the VHF but again, but no idea what we should be on the lookout for, as again they were only in French.
Bon Jour Marseille
We've arrived at the cultural capital of Europe -- Marseille, docking Big Sky in the historic harbour along with 3,200 boats (mostly little dingy-sized ones) and stepped out into the heart of the town. Marseille is the second largest city in France with an impressive harbour that sees ferries and cruise ships coming and going from the African former French colonies as well as locations around the world. There’s a rich mix of colour and culture adding flavour to the city. On the street corner is a covered ceiling made of mirror, and further is the stunning building/museum that teases your eyes with what's real and what's canvass. I can’t imagine how the birds navigate since the majority of the piece is painted like sky. The top arch is real as is the front of the protruding portion on the left, but the centre and parts of the sides are painted canvass. On the canvass there are pieces of concrete building, so the whole thing is deceiving. Inside was a free museum of fantastic boat models dating back to the 1700s.
A sweaty hike took us to the top of the city, the Bascillica for a stunning panorama of the city and sea surrounding it. We followed the "pink" cultural line on the sidewalk that wandered up and down the old district. These treasures were hanging to dry in the window a story above our heads. When evening arrived, we dressed up in high heels (well, I did) and attended LesNuits an 18-person ballet. It was fabulous and broke all the rules of traditional ballet with odd movements that awed the audience. Like me, they didn't move, cough, or sneeze throughout the hour and a half, mesmerized by the perfection. The choreography was suburb.
Surrounded by vacationers in resort alley!
July 13 -- Our plan was to head to Port Camargue, anchor half way and arrive the next day. The sea was calm with no wind, but when we turned to enter the bay, winds picked up to 25 knots, so we set up the sails and enjoyed a brisk journey. In Port Camargue, we were met by friendly staff and a bustling marina life, with hundreds of locals enjoying all types of water sports. It’s a grownup's playground. The beaches were packed with sun bathers, the sea was littered with boats of all kinds, and the area is a bikers dream with paths everywhere. We pulled out our seven-year-old Dahon bikes and set off. Ever since our bikes blew into the sea in Marina di Ragusa this past winter, they haven’t been the same despite being in and out of bike shops. Our goal in this town was to find the one and only bike shop, and we did, but it was closed for siesta. We locked our bikes in the bike shop’s bike rack and walked to the restaurant next door to wait in the shade. Finally, the shop opened, Con hustled over to chat with the proprietor in his very best French to make a repair inquiry. Before he could finish his sentence, the proprietor told him to “Get lost!” As Con, looking dumbfounded, walked back to me, the man called over adding, “And take your fuxxing bikes out of my bike stand." Con did. When he settled back at the table I told him calmly, “He’ll be written up, along with the French people who don't pick up their dog's crap, and the French Coast Guards who only announce PAN PAN’s in French.” Other than that, France is a beautiful country.
Road Trip to Central France
July 14-18 -- Sunday morning, we hired a taxi for 65 euro to take us to the Montpellier airport for our best-priced car rental, which may or may not be there for us, as we'd changed the rental contract from seven days to nine, and the whole thing was cancelled. (We think we're communicating with a computer.) Alas, it worked out and we set off to Central France for two days to visit Con's brother Jan and wife Anne Marie. They have a beautiful holiday home with a spectacular view and a swimming pool which was extremely inviting with the 30 + temperatures. In the heat of the afternoon, the four of us set off on a hike, which is part of the Compestella de Santiago “Way of St. John” pilgrimage to northern Spain. Jan was straddling the creek dug centuries ago by monks to bring the water into the village.
Our next visit was to Albertine and Anna’s French summer farm house to see Albertine. We stopped in Figeau for lunch in a restaurant on the river. The medieval town is also part of the pilgrimage route and we spotted hikers with their tall shell-topped walking sticks. The area is known for the variety of recipes made with gizzards. Con had them in a salad declaring they were great. We wove through the back roads enjoying the countryside, arriving at their cozy farm house for drinks on the patio. Con couldn't resist the chance to cut her lawn and pretending he was operating a Zamboni.
July 13 -- Our plan was to head to Port Camargue, anchor half way and arrive the next day. The sea was calm with no wind, but when we turned to enter the bay, winds picked up to 25 knots, so we set up the sails and enjoyed a brisk journey. In Port Camargue, we were met by friendly staff and a bustling marina life, with hundreds of locals enjoying all types of water sports. It’s a grownup's playground. The beaches were packed with sun bathers, the sea was littered with boats of all kinds, and the area is a bikers dream with paths everywhere. We pulled out our seven-year-old Dahon bikes and set off. Ever since our bikes blew into the sea in Marina di Ragusa this past winter, they haven’t been the same despite being in and out of bike shops. Our goal in this town was to find the one and only bike shop, and we did, but it was closed for siesta. We locked our bikes in the bike shop’s bike rack and walked to the restaurant next door to wait in the shade. Finally, the shop opened, Con hustled over to chat with the proprietor in his very best French to make a repair inquiry. Before he could finish his sentence, the proprietor told him to “Get lost!” As Con, looking dumbfounded, walked back to me, the man called over adding, “And take your fuxxing bikes out of my bike stand." Con did. When he settled back at the table I told him calmly, “He’ll be written up, along with the French people who don't pick up their dog's crap, and the French Coast Guards who only announce PAN PAN’s in French.” Other than that, France is a beautiful country.
Road Trip to Central France
July 14-18 -- Sunday morning, we hired a taxi for 65 euro to take us to the Montpellier airport for our best-priced car rental, which may or may not be there for us, as we'd changed the rental contract from seven days to nine, and the whole thing was cancelled. (We think we're communicating with a computer.) Alas, it worked out and we set off to Central France for two days to visit Con's brother Jan and wife Anne Marie. They have a beautiful holiday home with a spectacular view and a swimming pool which was extremely inviting with the 30 + temperatures. In the heat of the afternoon, the four of us set off on a hike, which is part of the Compestella de Santiago “Way of St. John” pilgrimage to northern Spain. Jan was straddling the creek dug centuries ago by monks to bring the water into the village.
Our next visit was to Albertine and Anna’s French summer farm house to see Albertine. We stopped in Figeau for lunch in a restaurant on the river. The medieval town is also part of the pilgrimage route and we spotted hikers with their tall shell-topped walking sticks. The area is known for the variety of recipes made with gizzards. Con had them in a salad declaring they were great. We wove through the back roads enjoying the countryside, arriving at their cozy farm house for drinks on the patio. Con couldn't resist the chance to cut her lawn and pretending he was operating a Zamboni.
Dogs Rule
July 19 -- Welcome to France, where the dogs share the table and dishes! In the pretty town of Orange we viewed the Arc de Triumph (L'Arc D'Orange, Triomphe de L'Imperialisme Romain) a Roman monument built in the first century AD. The Roman theatre holds 9,000 and is used today for concerts and plays. Further south, we drove through the grape fields which grew on the hillsides for as far as our eyes could see. The Rhone River meandering throughout and toward Chateauneuf du Pape (The New castle of the Pope) where we were heading. We arrived at 4 pm in 32.5 degree weather. From 1309 - 1379 the French broke away from the Vatican and had their own papacy in Avignon, just south of where we are now. It was over a dispute with the Pope and the French King. The French Pope was fond of Burgandy and this was his second castle, located now in the centre of the Chateauneuf du Pape vineyard. The wine prices range from 19 euro to 185 euro per bottle.
July 20 -- We stayed in an 18th century castle, built in 1738, Chateau de Varenne overlooking the fields and fields of vineyards in the Rhone River valley. They upgraded us to the terrace suite preserved like a museum. Our room was in the corner on the right, with eight-foot-tall windows on the front and side. To get to the terrace, we had to climb a winding stairway from our room, unlocked the private door and enter into a private oasis with two chaise lounges, a table with cloth, and umbrella. The outside grounds were perfectly groomed.
Bloody Massacre Aboard
July 22 – Following our eight-day land trip, we returned to Big Sky seeing feathers everywhere topside! Walking further to our companionway door, we knew something dastardly had happened aboard. Con walked up the starboard side and spotted it, a disgusting bloody massacre. A dead seagull was laid out in a pool of dried blood covered with maggots! Feathers with chunks of seagull skin were scattered here and there aboard. Con gathered the carcass and all he could slip into the bag and dumped it in the garbage. Next, he set up the hose and with a mixture of vinegar and different soaps he scrubbed the boat clean. An undetermined substance like dried hard grizzle was discovered against the pilot-house windows which we believe the birds had been fighting over.
Barcelona
July 26 - August 8 – On a 27-hour sail from France, we arrived east of Barcelona in Port de Masnou at 11 am. Stephen and Nancy, Canadian friends we met in Marina di Ragusa were there and greeted us with smiles. Sunday, I flew home to be with our family for a 10-day visit while Con completed a few tasks aboard enjoying time with Stephen and Nancy.
July 19 -- Welcome to France, where the dogs share the table and dishes! In the pretty town of Orange we viewed the Arc de Triumph (L'Arc D'Orange, Triomphe de L'Imperialisme Romain) a Roman monument built in the first century AD. The Roman theatre holds 9,000 and is used today for concerts and plays. Further south, we drove through the grape fields which grew on the hillsides for as far as our eyes could see. The Rhone River meandering throughout and toward Chateauneuf du Pape (The New castle of the Pope) where we were heading. We arrived at 4 pm in 32.5 degree weather. From 1309 - 1379 the French broke away from the Vatican and had their own papacy in Avignon, just south of where we are now. It was over a dispute with the Pope and the French King. The French Pope was fond of Burgandy and this was his second castle, located now in the centre of the Chateauneuf du Pape vineyard. The wine prices range from 19 euro to 185 euro per bottle.
July 20 -- We stayed in an 18th century castle, built in 1738, Chateau de Varenne overlooking the fields and fields of vineyards in the Rhone River valley. They upgraded us to the terrace suite preserved like a museum. Our room was in the corner on the right, with eight-foot-tall windows on the front and side. To get to the terrace, we had to climb a winding stairway from our room, unlocked the private door and enter into a private oasis with two chaise lounges, a table with cloth, and umbrella. The outside grounds were perfectly groomed.
Bloody Massacre Aboard
July 22 – Following our eight-day land trip, we returned to Big Sky seeing feathers everywhere topside! Walking further to our companionway door, we knew something dastardly had happened aboard. Con walked up the starboard side and spotted it, a disgusting bloody massacre. A dead seagull was laid out in a pool of dried blood covered with maggots! Feathers with chunks of seagull skin were scattered here and there aboard. Con gathered the carcass and all he could slip into the bag and dumped it in the garbage. Next, he set up the hose and with a mixture of vinegar and different soaps he scrubbed the boat clean. An undetermined substance like dried hard grizzle was discovered against the pilot-house windows which we believe the birds had been fighting over.
Barcelona
July 26 - August 8 – On a 27-hour sail from France, we arrived east of Barcelona in Port de Masnou at 11 am. Stephen and Nancy, Canadian friends we met in Marina di Ragusa were there and greeted us with smiles. Sunday, I flew home to be with our family for a 10-day visit while Con completed a few tasks aboard enjoying time with Stephen and Nancy.
Andorra & Guests
August 10 -- After 10 fabulous, jam-packed days in Alberta with our kids and grandkids, I was enroute to Big Sky.
Con flew to The Netherlands to visit family and sent me a message about a "surprise". He emailed lots of hints, mostly numbers, and I couldn't crack the surprise. Waiting to board my flight at Schiphol I spotted his handsome face, realizing at that point, that the number hint was the numbers of my KLM flight to Barcelona. No wonder I didn't recognize the numbers, since earlier in that day, I'd lined up to board a different flight to Barcelona, only being told by the agents "wrong flight". We flew back to Barcelona together, rented a car and travelled to the tiny country of Andorra nearly hidden between the French and Spanish border in the beautiful Pyrenees mountains. People head there in droves for the tax-free shopping, but we didn’t have a thing to buy.
Rennes le Chateau
We drove on to the tiny mountain village of steeped in mystery. Allegedly a powerful secret has been kept for nearly 2,100 years by just a few select people, and it was about Jesus and Mary, the premise of the book, "The Holy and the Holy Blood". That book was written about the Abbey we visited in Rennes le Chateau. Hidden below the alter (allegedly) were documents, like the marriage certificate of Jesus and Mary Magdalene and suggesting that their descendants may still be alive today. The mystery of Rennes le Chateau is about the idea of re-establishing the Merovingian monarchy on the throne of France and possibly Europe.
Biziers and Fonserannes
Carrying on, we drove to one of the oldest towns in France situated on a high bluff, where the River Midi runs through it. Stopping at the Fonserannes Locks, originally an eight-tiered system of nine locks (now six) boats rise 21 meters. It was built in 1662 on a grand scale, with revolutionary engineering to make sure the walls don't collapse, it still operates today. It takes about 30 minutes for a boat to enter the first lock and exit the last. This design was used to build future locks around the world. We ended the night with a Farris Wheel ride above the ancient city.
August 10 -- After 10 fabulous, jam-packed days in Alberta with our kids and grandkids, I was enroute to Big Sky.
Con flew to The Netherlands to visit family and sent me a message about a "surprise". He emailed lots of hints, mostly numbers, and I couldn't crack the surprise. Waiting to board my flight at Schiphol I spotted his handsome face, realizing at that point, that the number hint was the numbers of my KLM flight to Barcelona. No wonder I didn't recognize the numbers, since earlier in that day, I'd lined up to board a different flight to Barcelona, only being told by the agents "wrong flight". We flew back to Barcelona together, rented a car and travelled to the tiny country of Andorra nearly hidden between the French and Spanish border in the beautiful Pyrenees mountains. People head there in droves for the tax-free shopping, but we didn’t have a thing to buy.
Rennes le Chateau
We drove on to the tiny mountain village of steeped in mystery. Allegedly a powerful secret has been kept for nearly 2,100 years by just a few select people, and it was about Jesus and Mary, the premise of the book, "The Holy and the Holy Blood". That book was written about the Abbey we visited in Rennes le Chateau. Hidden below the alter (allegedly) were documents, like the marriage certificate of Jesus and Mary Magdalene and suggesting that their descendants may still be alive today. The mystery of Rennes le Chateau is about the idea of re-establishing the Merovingian monarchy on the throne of France and possibly Europe.
Biziers and Fonserannes
Carrying on, we drove to one of the oldest towns in France situated on a high bluff, where the River Midi runs through it. Stopping at the Fonserannes Locks, originally an eight-tiered system of nine locks (now six) boats rise 21 meters. It was built in 1662 on a grand scale, with revolutionary engineering to make sure the walls don't collapse, it still operates today. It takes about 30 minutes for a boat to enter the first lock and exit the last. This design was used to build future locks around the world. We ended the night with a Farris Wheel ride above the ancient city.
Back to Big Sky & Our Ninth Wedding Anniversary
August 14 – Karen, Fernando, friends from Calgary, and their two boys, Jarrett and Jay are holidaying in their condo in Denia, Spain and via train we rendezvoused in El Masnou (east of Barcelona) for a few days aboard. First day, we sailed for seven hours to Vilanova, stopping halfway to swim. It was a typical August day, hot, and our guests were melting. Three days later, 64 KN, and a billion laughs later, we said our “goodbyes”.
Booted out of bed by unexpected winds
August 17 – Con and I sauntered south along the Spanish coast dodging fishing boats and an oil platforms on calm seas, with near-perfect 10 - 15 knot and dropped anchor near Riomar just north of the river mouth where the sea was smooth and shallow. Because of the shallows, we dropped the anchor about two nautical miles from the beach. It was completely calm, and we slept well, until... At 4:30 am an unexpected north wind slammed into us, turning our boat around pulling hard on our anchor (stern toward the land) and the meter-high waves threatened to bounce us out of our hold and into the sand. I got behind the wheel, and Con tackled the anchor. Edging us in the direction I believed was away from land, the anchor jammed with 12 meters left to lift. In the pitch black, our GPS trying to get a fix, I couldn’t tell which way was deep water, or where the shallow bar was located. Watching our depth reader, the numbers were dropping and I knew we were being dragged toward shore. Receiving Con’s thumbs up, I turned Big Sky 90 degrees and pushed hard on the throttle watching the depth reader numbers rise. The GPS now had its reading, so our blindness was replaced with reality. Con took the wheel, set a new course. The storm cell moved on and by day break, we set sail for a gentle 13-hour sail on southeast winds 60 NM further along the coast.
August 20 – We crossed the East West Meridian Line, on a nine-hour sail to the fabulous city of Valencia. Along the way, an exhausted green finch tried to land on Con’s head in the cockpit, settling on the stern and hitched a long ride to catch its breath.
Front Row Seat for Summer
August 23 -- Sitting in the stern seat aboard, with 29 degree cooling weather, blue sea, and blue sky, we concurred, "it’s the life". However, Con needed to visit a dentist. Ironically, some Canadian dentists warn NOT to have foreign dental work, but that has always been poor advice. With Con’s molar crumbling, we visited a clinic and Con was immediately led to a seat (no appointment) and left shortly after with a good-looking temporary tooth. In a few days, he received his brand-new crown, for 250 euro. In Canada, that would have been a minimum $1000.
The bike paths are fabulous and snake through the city and through the beautiful river bed park. Once a river flowed through the city, but in 1957 following too many floods, they rerouted it and today we’re cycling through kilometres of the most enjoyable paths and parks. The drivers here are courteous, stopping for all bike traffic. And bikers are expected to stop for all pedestrians. The system works, even when Con winds his way through the intersections breaking the rules, because I follow close behind apologizing.
Weather is muggy, and reaching 40 degrees each day making the sea a great place to cool off at day’s end. Below: Karen, Fernando, and boys, Valencia's crowded beach, and statues in Cartagena.
August 14 – Karen, Fernando, friends from Calgary, and their two boys, Jarrett and Jay are holidaying in their condo in Denia, Spain and via train we rendezvoused in El Masnou (east of Barcelona) for a few days aboard. First day, we sailed for seven hours to Vilanova, stopping halfway to swim. It was a typical August day, hot, and our guests were melting. Three days later, 64 KN, and a billion laughs later, we said our “goodbyes”.
Booted out of bed by unexpected winds
August 17 – Con and I sauntered south along the Spanish coast dodging fishing boats and an oil platforms on calm seas, with near-perfect 10 - 15 knot and dropped anchor near Riomar just north of the river mouth where the sea was smooth and shallow. Because of the shallows, we dropped the anchor about two nautical miles from the beach. It was completely calm, and we slept well, until... At 4:30 am an unexpected north wind slammed into us, turning our boat around pulling hard on our anchor (stern toward the land) and the meter-high waves threatened to bounce us out of our hold and into the sand. I got behind the wheel, and Con tackled the anchor. Edging us in the direction I believed was away from land, the anchor jammed with 12 meters left to lift. In the pitch black, our GPS trying to get a fix, I couldn’t tell which way was deep water, or where the shallow bar was located. Watching our depth reader, the numbers were dropping and I knew we were being dragged toward shore. Receiving Con’s thumbs up, I turned Big Sky 90 degrees and pushed hard on the throttle watching the depth reader numbers rise. The GPS now had its reading, so our blindness was replaced with reality. Con took the wheel, set a new course. The storm cell moved on and by day break, we set sail for a gentle 13-hour sail on southeast winds 60 NM further along the coast.
August 20 – We crossed the East West Meridian Line, on a nine-hour sail to the fabulous city of Valencia. Along the way, an exhausted green finch tried to land on Con’s head in the cockpit, settling on the stern and hitched a long ride to catch its breath.
Front Row Seat for Summer
August 23 -- Sitting in the stern seat aboard, with 29 degree cooling weather, blue sea, and blue sky, we concurred, "it’s the life". However, Con needed to visit a dentist. Ironically, some Canadian dentists warn NOT to have foreign dental work, but that has always been poor advice. With Con’s molar crumbling, we visited a clinic and Con was immediately led to a seat (no appointment) and left shortly after with a good-looking temporary tooth. In a few days, he received his brand-new crown, for 250 euro. In Canada, that would have been a minimum $1000.
The bike paths are fabulous and snake through the city and through the beautiful river bed park. Once a river flowed through the city, but in 1957 following too many floods, they rerouted it and today we’re cycling through kilometres of the most enjoyable paths and parks. The drivers here are courteous, stopping for all bike traffic. And bikers are expected to stop for all pedestrians. The system works, even when Con winds his way through the intersections breaking the rules, because I follow close behind apologizing.
Weather is muggy, and reaching 40 degrees each day making the sea a great place to cool off at day’s end. Below: Karen, Fernando, and boys, Valencia's crowded beach, and statues in Cartagena.
Cigar-smoking Charter Captain from Hell
Just settling in for the night, I heard loud shouting and then felt the pull of our stern line. Scrambling topside, we were eye-to-eye with a cigar-smoking captain and three dumbfounded-looking crew. They attempted to dock beside us and ran over our stern line catching it under their keel and were nearly on top of us! Con joined me and we pushed them off. The captain (cigar still dangling) backed it up again and with full speed attempted to dock again, this time nearly taking the side off a motor boat with their stern, and then God help him, he put his boat into full forward and his anchor was coming directly to our port side. Con and I shouted and pushed, and with the help of a local in a small dingy, managed to hold him off until they could tie him on. It was charter boat season and this one was exceptionally unfriendly and unskilled.
August 26 -- The much needed rain arrived as anticipated at 1 am through to 4 am and along with it a fantastic lightning and thunder storm. I woke when the first drops came through our bedroom screen gently washing over my face. I circled the boat topsides securing all the windows, missing two in my sleepy haste. By the time I came back inside, the thunder was booming directly overhead with the sky putting on the most dramatic light show. The rain came down like a river, and Con got up to make a thorough check of the windows discovering both the main bathroom and lower settee windows open. The rain came from the north, so unlike the southern Sahara Desert, this cleaned Big Sky up nicely.
Sunday in Valencia
The air is heavy, grey, and humid threatening rain, but the sun broke through to a beautiful 34 degrees. Keeping track of the days of the week is sometimes a challenge, and it can trip you up if you forget that everything closes at noon on Saturday and all day Sunday. The produce is fantastic and we’re enjoying big colourful salad plates aboard: fresh lettuce, asparagus, pickled peppers, humus, cherry tomatoes, cold potatoes, avocados, carrots, cucumbers, nuts, etc. with a Spanish ham or smoked salmon.
The warm rain arrived and with it an impressive display of thunder and lightning. At times, it was directly overhead with the boom – flash nearly at the same time. Con had cycled to the dentist for his final appointment and I was in the process of filling our near-empty tanks (holds 1600 litres) when the first crack sounded overhead. I turned off the water and went below to stay safe from a strike.
September 3 -- We sailed from Valencia on south east winds to Denia, 7.5 hours later stepping out to enjoy tapas early evening (late afternoon by Spanish time). Rising early, we sailed to an anchorage for the night a tough find with winds blowing into the rocks and shore. Water temperature: 30.4 in the late afternoon, and no jellyfish! Waking early, we lifted the anchor as the sun was rising casting an orange glow on the waters silhouetting the fishing boats. Arriving in Cartagena we were pleased to see the marina had better protection with a new breakwater. (In 2008, we sustained damage when the winds blew us helplessly against the concrete quay catching our fenders under the groove and bending our stainless steel rail like rubber.
Cartagena has been inhabited since 227 BC, having its heyday during the Roman Empire when it was known as the "New Carthage". The bay leading into Cartagena is a defensive naval port, and has been since the 16th century. Surrounding the port is a very productive mining industry which has its challenges to operate in this area of lush protected botanical species and animal such as the red fox, badger, flamingos, wild cats, and wild boar. We passed a few out-of-bounds locations along the way, protecting wildlife, and humans, as there's a large section under the sea where abandoned explosives have been deposited. We also passed an enormous fish farm.
Just settling in for the night, I heard loud shouting and then felt the pull of our stern line. Scrambling topside, we were eye-to-eye with a cigar-smoking captain and three dumbfounded-looking crew. They attempted to dock beside us and ran over our stern line catching it under their keel and were nearly on top of us! Con joined me and we pushed them off. The captain (cigar still dangling) backed it up again and with full speed attempted to dock again, this time nearly taking the side off a motor boat with their stern, and then God help him, he put his boat into full forward and his anchor was coming directly to our port side. Con and I shouted and pushed, and with the help of a local in a small dingy, managed to hold him off until they could tie him on. It was charter boat season and this one was exceptionally unfriendly and unskilled.
August 26 -- The much needed rain arrived as anticipated at 1 am through to 4 am and along with it a fantastic lightning and thunder storm. I woke when the first drops came through our bedroom screen gently washing over my face. I circled the boat topsides securing all the windows, missing two in my sleepy haste. By the time I came back inside, the thunder was booming directly overhead with the sky putting on the most dramatic light show. The rain came down like a river, and Con got up to make a thorough check of the windows discovering both the main bathroom and lower settee windows open. The rain came from the north, so unlike the southern Sahara Desert, this cleaned Big Sky up nicely.
Sunday in Valencia
The air is heavy, grey, and humid threatening rain, but the sun broke through to a beautiful 34 degrees. Keeping track of the days of the week is sometimes a challenge, and it can trip you up if you forget that everything closes at noon on Saturday and all day Sunday. The produce is fantastic and we’re enjoying big colourful salad plates aboard: fresh lettuce, asparagus, pickled peppers, humus, cherry tomatoes, cold potatoes, avocados, carrots, cucumbers, nuts, etc. with a Spanish ham or smoked salmon.
The warm rain arrived and with it an impressive display of thunder and lightning. At times, it was directly overhead with the boom – flash nearly at the same time. Con had cycled to the dentist for his final appointment and I was in the process of filling our near-empty tanks (holds 1600 litres) when the first crack sounded overhead. I turned off the water and went below to stay safe from a strike.
September 3 -- We sailed from Valencia on south east winds to Denia, 7.5 hours later stepping out to enjoy tapas early evening (late afternoon by Spanish time). Rising early, we sailed to an anchorage for the night a tough find with winds blowing into the rocks and shore. Water temperature: 30.4 in the late afternoon, and no jellyfish! Waking early, we lifted the anchor as the sun was rising casting an orange glow on the waters silhouetting the fishing boats. Arriving in Cartagena we were pleased to see the marina had better protection with a new breakwater. (In 2008, we sustained damage when the winds blew us helplessly against the concrete quay catching our fenders under the groove and bending our stainless steel rail like rubber.
Cartagena has been inhabited since 227 BC, having its heyday during the Roman Empire when it was known as the "New Carthage". The bay leading into Cartagena is a defensive naval port, and has been since the 16th century. Surrounding the port is a very productive mining industry which has its challenges to operate in this area of lush protected botanical species and animal such as the red fox, badger, flamingos, wild cats, and wild boar. We passed a few out-of-bounds locations along the way, protecting wildlife, and humans, as there's a large section under the sea where abandoned explosives have been deposited. We also passed an enormous fish farm.
Morocco
September 8 – 9 -- When kinder weather arrived, we sailed from Spain to Morocco, a 27-hour, 163 NM journey. I used a sea sickness prevention patch for the first time and it worked brilliantly! On the way, a War Ship cut us off starboard causing us to throttle back dramatically avoiding collision by 75 meters. We arrived in the modern marina, Saida, friendly staff, free WiFi, water, and power all for 11 euro per night. We stayed a week and then moved to Melilla, the Spanish enclave within Morocco, a tax-free town on Morocco’s north coast. A week-long carnival was just wrapping up and outside the marina and crowds of teenagers gather electrifying the air with their energy. Much of the commotion was due to the open drinking and pot smoking. I imagine it's hard keeping the drugs out of Melilla, since Morocco is a haven for hashish grown openly on the hillsides. One of the main problems along the Moroccan coast is the illegal transportation of drugs to Europe by boat.
Open the "Moroccan Desert" link for our trip from Melilla on a sleeper train to Casablanca, and then another train to Marrakech. We stayed a few nights then rented a car for an extraordinary experience driving through the Sahara Desert to the southwest tip of the country, to the Algerian Border and back. We experienced a desert flash flood that came upon us quickly and had us detour and make a different plan which turned out to be filled with stunning nature-made sights.
September 8 – 9 -- When kinder weather arrived, we sailed from Spain to Morocco, a 27-hour, 163 NM journey. I used a sea sickness prevention patch for the first time and it worked brilliantly! On the way, a War Ship cut us off starboard causing us to throttle back dramatically avoiding collision by 75 meters. We arrived in the modern marina, Saida, friendly staff, free WiFi, water, and power all for 11 euro per night. We stayed a week and then moved to Melilla, the Spanish enclave within Morocco, a tax-free town on Morocco’s north coast. A week-long carnival was just wrapping up and outside the marina and crowds of teenagers gather electrifying the air with their energy. Much of the commotion was due to the open drinking and pot smoking. I imagine it's hard keeping the drugs out of Melilla, since Morocco is a haven for hashish grown openly on the hillsides. One of the main problems along the Moroccan coast is the illegal transportation of drugs to Europe by boat.
Open the "Moroccan Desert" link for our trip from Melilla on a sleeper train to Casablanca, and then another train to Marrakech. We stayed a few nights then rented a car for an extraordinary experience driving through the Sahara Desert to the southwest tip of the country, to the Algerian Border and back. We experienced a desert flash flood that came upon us quickly and had us detour and make a different plan which turned out to be filled with stunning nature-made sights.
The Rain in Spain Falls Mainly on the Plain
The rain in Spain was falling on the Spanish enclave in Morocco, called Melilla. With it came the red Sahara Desert and we’ve learned not to try to keep washing it off, since it comes back just as fast. I also learned not to make cookies with chick peas – not related, but just another tip.
Overnight to Ceuta
September 26 -- After two weeks in the Melilla we sailed on to Ceuta, another Spanish enclave in Africa. We would have remained longer, but they didn’t have potable water and we were running low. As darkness closed in, we were on high alert for refugees and economic migrants crossing from Africa to Spain, especially since they likely wouldn’t have lights. On my watch, I followed a few marks on the radar and as we got closer, I stepped out of the pilot house into the cockpit to see if I could identify them through the binoculars but only saw more darkness. I heard voices, and wondered if it was my imagination, again, because I saw nothing. Holding tight to the dodger, I arched my back fully exposing the stars, overwhelmed by the beauty and magnificence around me. The sky was littered with stars and the Milky Way streak left a bright glow like spilled milk across the sky.
A few hours into my shift, at 3 am I spotted another mark on the radar moving within a kilometre from us, and then it made a 45 degree course change toward Morocco. I went out for another 360 scan spotting what seem impossible, a low-lying city behind us! We'd left Melilla 11 hours before and city lights would be long gone. Through the binoculars I saw that the impossible city was electrolysis on the water! The sea was alive with bobbing silver bright bubbles under the moon's spotlight.
Twenty-one hours and dozens of dolphins later, we entered Ceuta’s port in the 4.7 square mile semicircle shaped city surrounded by beach and the port. It’s across the Strait of Gibraltar from Gibraltar, (the English enclave of Spain). In Ceuta, there’s a good mix of Christians, Muslims, and Jews and their influences are found everywhere. The beautifully preserved fortress, built in the 14th century was well worth a walk around, if just for the views of the Mediterranean.
The rain in Spain was falling on the Spanish enclave in Morocco, called Melilla. With it came the red Sahara Desert and we’ve learned not to try to keep washing it off, since it comes back just as fast. I also learned not to make cookies with chick peas – not related, but just another tip.
Overnight to Ceuta
September 26 -- After two weeks in the Melilla we sailed on to Ceuta, another Spanish enclave in Africa. We would have remained longer, but they didn’t have potable water and we were running low. As darkness closed in, we were on high alert for refugees and economic migrants crossing from Africa to Spain, especially since they likely wouldn’t have lights. On my watch, I followed a few marks on the radar and as we got closer, I stepped out of the pilot house into the cockpit to see if I could identify them through the binoculars but only saw more darkness. I heard voices, and wondered if it was my imagination, again, because I saw nothing. Holding tight to the dodger, I arched my back fully exposing the stars, overwhelmed by the beauty and magnificence around me. The sky was littered with stars and the Milky Way streak left a bright glow like spilled milk across the sky.
A few hours into my shift, at 3 am I spotted another mark on the radar moving within a kilometre from us, and then it made a 45 degree course change toward Morocco. I went out for another 360 scan spotting what seem impossible, a low-lying city behind us! We'd left Melilla 11 hours before and city lights would be long gone. Through the binoculars I saw that the impossible city was electrolysis on the water! The sea was alive with bobbing silver bright bubbles under the moon's spotlight.
Twenty-one hours and dozens of dolphins later, we entered Ceuta’s port in the 4.7 square mile semicircle shaped city surrounded by beach and the port. It’s across the Strait of Gibraltar from Gibraltar, (the English enclave of Spain). In Ceuta, there’s a good mix of Christians, Muslims, and Jews and their influences are found everywhere. The beautifully preserved fortress, built in the 14th century was well worth a walk around, if just for the views of the Mediterranean.
African Continent to Europe
September 27 -- Not a breath of wind for our departure from Ceuta for La Linea, Spain, tucking in behind the Rock. The mooring cost is less than half of what we pay in Ceuta: just 21 euro per night. Our two-hour crossing from Africa to Europe was exhilarating! It was impossible to count the numbers of dolphins we encountered. Pods came and went from our bow, and when we slowed for a huge tanker going 20 knots to pass in front of us, we spotted dolphins at its bow leaping high for speed. We throttled forward and the dolphins bee-lined it to Big Sky. La Linea’s water is potable, and we filled Big Sky to the brim.
Spain to Portugal
October 2-3 -- We left the Rock (La Linea, Spain) at sun break catching the fickle currents west. Unfortunately, we didn't interpret the current time-table book very well, because we fought the current nearly the whole 175 NM.
October 4 – Courtney's birthday! On a confused sea, we arrived in Portimao. The sea-sickness prevention patch behind my ear worked brilliantly, it just leaves a very dry mouth. When checking in, Customs and Immigration asked Con to explain every stamp and asked about the missing stamps, for instance when we left Spain for Morocco. We couldn’t get authorities to stamp us out, but we’re expected to explain why we don’t have them. They eventually let that one go.
We hiked to the internet store and purchased an unbelievable package: 10 GB for 2.50 euro, including SIM card! On our return, we picked up the much loved Piri Piri rotisserie cooked chicken for just 3.48 euro.
While in Portimao, we will have Big Sky prepared for our trip across the Atlantic this winter.
September 27 -- Not a breath of wind for our departure from Ceuta for La Linea, Spain, tucking in behind the Rock. The mooring cost is less than half of what we pay in Ceuta: just 21 euro per night. Our two-hour crossing from Africa to Europe was exhilarating! It was impossible to count the numbers of dolphins we encountered. Pods came and went from our bow, and when we slowed for a huge tanker going 20 knots to pass in front of us, we spotted dolphins at its bow leaping high for speed. We throttled forward and the dolphins bee-lined it to Big Sky. La Linea’s water is potable, and we filled Big Sky to the brim.
Spain to Portugal
October 2-3 -- We left the Rock (La Linea, Spain) at sun break catching the fickle currents west. Unfortunately, we didn't interpret the current time-table book very well, because we fought the current nearly the whole 175 NM.
October 4 – Courtney's birthday! On a confused sea, we arrived in Portimao. The sea-sickness prevention patch behind my ear worked brilliantly, it just leaves a very dry mouth. When checking in, Customs and Immigration asked Con to explain every stamp and asked about the missing stamps, for instance when we left Spain for Morocco. We couldn’t get authorities to stamp us out, but we’re expected to explain why we don’t have them. They eventually let that one go.
We hiked to the internet store and purchased an unbelievable package: 10 GB for 2.50 euro, including SIM card! On our return, we picked up the much loved Piri Piri rotisserie cooked chicken for just 3.48 euro.
While in Portimao, we will have Big Sky prepared for our trip across the Atlantic this winter.
Portuguese love Sardines
October 8 – Famous for their grilled sardines, we ordered two plates for lunch. I won’t be doing that again, they come fulling intact, head, tail, and guts. Later, we filled up a few bags of non-perishable groceries as our first attempt at provisioning for the Atlantic crossing. I spent the afternoon organizing and mapping where everything is aboard. Some of today’s supplies: microwave-ready meals, canned products, condiments, and toilet paper.
To the Corner in a Car Rental
In a rental, we drove to Europe’s most southwest land on continental Europe, Portugal’s corner. It's spectacular, with the wind-ripped limestone grottos both along the south and up the west side. Fishermen perch on the rocky ledges 70 meters above the crashing Atlantic with their rods reaching all the way to the water. I walked over to a spot above one fisherman who showed me his catch, saying, “Fishing is good for my health; no stress and,” he opened his arms wide smiling at the sky and ocean all around him, “all this!”
Chaos Ignites the Locals into Action
With our long "to-do" list and rental car, we've been scooting around Lagos and Portimao for boat parts and quotes from yards for various work. One of our bikes was in need of attention from a bike shop and we stuffed it into the trunk. Arriving at the shop, we realized we brought the wrong bike and while driving back to Big Sky for the other bike, we detoured through a cobblestone road, and Fwap! the front car tire popped and every ounce of air sizzled out. Workmen, restaurant owners, staff, and locals all stopped what they were doing to shout at us words like, "Policia," "Policia," and "Policia." We were beginning to understand that we should call the police. Not sure if we were in big trouble or not, we stood looking dumbfounded. Locals made the calls for us, to the police, the car rental, the insurance company, a tow truck, and a taxi. Within 45 minutes, police arrived and filled out a report; a tow truck arrived took away our rental; a City of Portimao truck backed down the cobblestone street and filled the hole just as our taxi arrived. The police informed us that the city would pay the rental company for damages to the car tire, and “You DO NOT pay anything.”
It took two hours in the car rental shop as they extracted 253 euro from our Visa. They even charged us for “Not returning the car tank on full.” They said, “Take out a claim with the City, and get a lawyer.” (For months via email we persisted in requesting the reimbursement that the car rental company had received from The City. The rental company likely thought they’d never see us again, but three months later, we walked in their front door, and they gave in.)
October 8 – Famous for their grilled sardines, we ordered two plates for lunch. I won’t be doing that again, they come fulling intact, head, tail, and guts. Later, we filled up a few bags of non-perishable groceries as our first attempt at provisioning for the Atlantic crossing. I spent the afternoon organizing and mapping where everything is aboard. Some of today’s supplies: microwave-ready meals, canned products, condiments, and toilet paper.
To the Corner in a Car Rental
In a rental, we drove to Europe’s most southwest land on continental Europe, Portugal’s corner. It's spectacular, with the wind-ripped limestone grottos both along the south and up the west side. Fishermen perch on the rocky ledges 70 meters above the crashing Atlantic with their rods reaching all the way to the water. I walked over to a spot above one fisherman who showed me his catch, saying, “Fishing is good for my health; no stress and,” he opened his arms wide smiling at the sky and ocean all around him, “all this!”
Chaos Ignites the Locals into Action
With our long "to-do" list and rental car, we've been scooting around Lagos and Portimao for boat parts and quotes from yards for various work. One of our bikes was in need of attention from a bike shop and we stuffed it into the trunk. Arriving at the shop, we realized we brought the wrong bike and while driving back to Big Sky for the other bike, we detoured through a cobblestone road, and Fwap! the front car tire popped and every ounce of air sizzled out. Workmen, restaurant owners, staff, and locals all stopped what they were doing to shout at us words like, "Policia," "Policia," and "Policia." We were beginning to understand that we should call the police. Not sure if we were in big trouble or not, we stood looking dumbfounded. Locals made the calls for us, to the police, the car rental, the insurance company, a tow truck, and a taxi. Within 45 minutes, police arrived and filled out a report; a tow truck arrived took away our rental; a City of Portimao truck backed down the cobblestone street and filled the hole just as our taxi arrived. The police informed us that the city would pay the rental company for damages to the car tire, and “You DO NOT pay anything.”
It took two hours in the car rental shop as they extracted 253 euro from our Visa. They even charged us for “Not returning the car tank on full.” They said, “Take out a claim with the City, and get a lawyer.” (For months via email we persisted in requesting the reimbursement that the car rental company had received from The City. The rental company likely thought they’d never see us again, but three months later, we walked in their front door, and they gave in.)
Spindrift Racing Trimaran
October 10 -- I scooped this photo off www.spindrift-racing.com. This boat is docked beside us in Portimao. We spoke to Dona, the female (pretty) captain who, along with her twelve-person crew are waiting for the right winds to begin their race to the Bahamas in an attempt to beat the Route of Discovery record between Cadiz and San Salvador, Bahamas. They plan to take advantage of the Fall winds in the southern Azores. Con told Dona that he spotted a tropical storm forming west of the Canary Islands. She had too obviously, because she responded, "Yes, but we have to get from here to Cadiz (Spain) and then to the islands." This boat is the largest trimaran in the world. They plan to beat the seven-day record. She tells us with 35 knots of wind, the Spindrift can go 48 knots! Our average speed is 6 knots! Their trimaran weighs less than Big Sky by a few tons. Their length is 40 meters by 23. Big Sky is 15 by 4.6 meters. Their food is re-hydrated food only, there’s no cooking ability aboard.
October 10 -- I scooped this photo off www.spindrift-racing.com. This boat is docked beside us in Portimao. We spoke to Dona, the female (pretty) captain who, along with her twelve-person crew are waiting for the right winds to begin their race to the Bahamas in an attempt to beat the Route of Discovery record between Cadiz and San Salvador, Bahamas. They plan to take advantage of the Fall winds in the southern Azores. Con told Dona that he spotted a tropical storm forming west of the Canary Islands. She had too obviously, because she responded, "Yes, but we have to get from here to Cadiz (Spain) and then to the islands." This boat is the largest trimaran in the world. They plan to beat the seven-day record. She tells us with 35 knots of wind, the Spindrift can go 48 knots! Our average speed is 6 knots! Their trimaran weighs less than Big Sky by a few tons. Their length is 40 meters by 23. Big Sky is 15 by 4.6 meters. Their food is re-hydrated food only, there’s no cooking ability aboard.
October 17 -- Temperatures in Portimao are sneaking into the low 30s! With a boat-full of people again today (two in the engine room, two up the mast, and one changing hose in the forward bathroom), maintenance is full swing aboard. We'll have a quote for a gennaker sail next week, (a cross between a genoa and a spinnaker) which should be ideal for the crossing. It's not a fixed sail, and is stored when not in use. Chances are once we set it and begin our Atlantic crossing, we'll not take it down until we reach the Caribbean.
A sad sidebar: Thousands of North African migrants are seeking a better life by crossing the dangerous waters in ill-prepared and overcrowded small boats. The water between Tunisia, Libya, Malta and Sicily are heavily patrolled by the Navy. While sailing the North African waters, we listened to VHF messages to be on the lookout for various sized boats “unlit... overcrowded... man overboard...” It’s a sobering situation. If we come across a boat, we are to call the coast guard and stay with them. If they’re sinking, how could Big Sky handle 400+ people. How safe would we be overtaken by strangers? Every day we read reports of drownings and rescues in the hundreds of people. Tuesday, 370 people were rescued, 370 drowned...
October 26 – I backed Big Sky into the Portimao skinny slip and she was gently lifted just before the heavy rain and placed ever so gently on the hard. It’s part of our “getting ready” to cross the Atlantic. The radar post on the starboard stern had to come down as well as the back stays which took a bit longer than expected. This was the first time we’d had to do that. Big Sky is now 30 tons with full diesel and water tanks.
Just days away now from our departure to Canada. With gorgeous weather, we checked into a beautiful resort on Portugal’s Algarve and we have tennis booked for 5 pm.
October 27 – 30 -- Definition of R&R (Rest and Relaxation): After breakfast, we plunked ourselves under two umbrellas and didn't get up again until lunch. While Con was posing for a photo, a big wave snuck up behind him knocking him off his feet, like the carpet was whipped out from under him. (The picture below captures the wave that got him.) This is a beautiful peaceful place in this beautiful world.
A sad sidebar: Thousands of North African migrants are seeking a better life by crossing the dangerous waters in ill-prepared and overcrowded small boats. The water between Tunisia, Libya, Malta and Sicily are heavily patrolled by the Navy. While sailing the North African waters, we listened to VHF messages to be on the lookout for various sized boats “unlit... overcrowded... man overboard...” It’s a sobering situation. If we come across a boat, we are to call the coast guard and stay with them. If they’re sinking, how could Big Sky handle 400+ people. How safe would we be overtaken by strangers? Every day we read reports of drownings and rescues in the hundreds of people. Tuesday, 370 people were rescued, 370 drowned...
October 26 – I backed Big Sky into the Portimao skinny slip and she was gently lifted just before the heavy rain and placed ever so gently on the hard. It’s part of our “getting ready” to cross the Atlantic. The radar post on the starboard stern had to come down as well as the back stays which took a bit longer than expected. This was the first time we’d had to do that. Big Sky is now 30 tons with full diesel and water tanks.
Just days away now from our departure to Canada. With gorgeous weather, we checked into a beautiful resort on Portugal’s Algarve and we have tennis booked for 5 pm.
October 27 – 30 -- Definition of R&R (Rest and Relaxation): After breakfast, we plunked ourselves under two umbrellas and didn't get up again until lunch. While Con was posing for a photo, a big wave snuck up behind him knocking him off his feet, like the carpet was whipped out from under him. (The picture below captures the wave that got him.) This is a beautiful peaceful place in this beautiful world.
CANADA
October 31 -- We left the beach for an overnight stop in The Netherlands and a visit with family (Nomie, Geert, Loes and Albertine) over Indonesian dinner at a restaurant in Breukelen. The next morning, we flew to London, changed planes and 9.5 hours later arrived in Calgary. From Portugal’s warm sandy beach to Calgary’s snow covered city within 48 hours. We got right to work building a snow fort with Dex in Nick’s back yard. We made the rounds visiting our daughters including a nine-hour drive to snow-covered Carrot River, Saskatchewan to be with Brit, Kris, and 5-year-old Nolan. They live in a more rural setting, and spotting the Northern Hawk Owl sunning in the tree behind their house was awesome. Brit and Nolan spotted it while building a snow fort in -25 C weather.
When possible, we take cousins Dex and Hailey on outings together. Today, we went to the open gym so they could play on the equipment. Arriving too early, they had to wait, and were colouring pictures. Dex took the book Hailey was colouring in, so she took it back. “Haiwey!” Dex said casually, “you have to share.” Hailey gave him the book and walked away pouting. Dex followed her explaining, “Haiwey,” in full hand and arm animation, “you're just 4 and learning about sharing, I’m 4 1/2 and can teach you. It's when you give someone something that you want." Hailey turned to listen, smiled, and joined him back at the table to watch him colour in her book. Love those two!
After our visits with the kids and grandkids, we flew to be with my mom in December.
October 31 -- We left the beach for an overnight stop in The Netherlands and a visit with family (Nomie, Geert, Loes and Albertine) over Indonesian dinner at a restaurant in Breukelen. The next morning, we flew to London, changed planes and 9.5 hours later arrived in Calgary. From Portugal’s warm sandy beach to Calgary’s snow covered city within 48 hours. We got right to work building a snow fort with Dex in Nick’s back yard. We made the rounds visiting our daughters including a nine-hour drive to snow-covered Carrot River, Saskatchewan to be with Brit, Kris, and 5-year-old Nolan. They live in a more rural setting, and spotting the Northern Hawk Owl sunning in the tree behind their house was awesome. Brit and Nolan spotted it while building a snow fort in -25 C weather.
When possible, we take cousins Dex and Hailey on outings together. Today, we went to the open gym so they could play on the equipment. Arriving too early, they had to wait, and were colouring pictures. Dex took the book Hailey was colouring in, so she took it back. “Haiwey!” Dex said casually, “you have to share.” Hailey gave him the book and walked away pouting. Dex followed her explaining, “Haiwey,” in full hand and arm animation, “you're just 4 and learning about sharing, I’m 4 1/2 and can teach you. It's when you give someone something that you want." Hailey turned to listen, smiled, and joined him back at the table to watch him colour in her book. Love those two!
After our visits with the kids and grandkids, we flew to be with my mom in December.
My Sweet Mom
December 2 – Con and I flew to the island to visit mom, 86, and saw that something wasn’t quite right. Usually happy and independent she was now unsure and lonely. Once full of energy, she was physically slowing and baffled by her need to sleep. She was significantly different from our last visit in April. I watched her barely able to lift her feet to take steps as if she was dragging through quick sand.
Prior to our December visit, we noticed changes in mom while chatting on Skype. Lindsey and hubby Les volunteered to fly to her. Lindsey said, “Something seemed out of whack,” but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Doug, my brother and wife Merrilee flew from Toronto and set up a series of doctor visits hoping to learn more. Her doctor of 30+ years couldn’t shed any light on the situation and gave her a clean bill of health. Later suggesting that she had a condition called “Failure to Thrive”. When we got there we visited a doctor who specializes in seniors who said mom was depressed suggesting “delayed grief” from dad’s passing three years ago. Mom didn’t think so.
The house was now too big for mom, and she agreed. We arranged a series of tours to various living arrangements and found a beautiful one-bedroom beautiful complex in Sidney where she could live independently, receive three gourmet-like meals a day, and surrounded by others, many of whom she knew. They even had a piano. Her apartment would be ready in a month, and we helped her move into a room across the hall, set up her internet, and made it homey. The community of spry seniors regularly visited mom inviting her to join them for dinner or an outing. She often declined. Our flight was in a few days and I couldn’t help but worry that the diagnosis “Failure to Thrive” and “Depression” weren’t the issues. Doug said he’d fly out in January to move mom across the hall. We would be crossing the Atlantic...
We stopped in The Netherlands on our way back to the boat, and called mom in Sidney, BC every day. One day she said, “I have to go Barbie, I have a lunch date in a few minutes.” My spirits lifted. I felt more positive that she was now receiving the exact treatment to get her back on her active feet again. We relaxed. My brother Jim lived nearby, but he was useless, never visiting, or offering help. He remained completely out of the picture as he did with my dad’s passing. My mom had come to terms with it, not understanding, but accepting it. Happily, friends rallied around her expressing their love and concern and no task was too difficult for others to help her.
December 15 -- We flew to The Netherlands for a final visit with family. Con’s mom, 97, and his five siblings all gathered at Albertine’s for a brunch. Hugo from Vancouver Island was there, in anticipation of joining us for the crossing.
Back Aboard
December 22 – We had been seven weeks away from the boat and now returned to sunny Portugal, checked into a hotel and let the cold damp Netherlands seep out of our bones. Communication with mom that night was worrying. Our positive thoughts turned to doubt. First thing in the morning, we drove to Big Sky on the hard, climbed the ladder to give a good inspection. In a few days, if the weather is right, we’d set off for the Canary Islands.
However, Con and I slowed our pace for a moment to have a frank talk about mom. She wasn’t getting better and in fact we believed she was in crisis. I heard the Yard crew calling up to us. The lift was in place and they were ready to return Big Sky to the sea. In that exact moment, we decided we had to return to Canada. I called down to the crew, “Please cancel, we must leave town.” Con pulled up the internet and found us flights. I pulled our two suitcases out of the trunk of our car, parked outside the Yard, laid them open on the sidewalk, repacked one and tossed it back into the car, and dragged the other to the ladder calling to Con to hoist it up. We turned in our rental and took a three-hour bus ride to Lisbon to begin our return journey to Vancouver Island. We’d be with mom by morning.
TAP the Portuguese airline with the 80 percent NOT ON TIME record, has been 100 percent NOT ON TIME for our six out of six flights with them. The departure didn't happen until nearly noon, causing us to miss all our connections. TAP claimed, "fog," but all the other flights were operating. Nevertheless, with the help of Air Canada in Heathrow, it appeared we would have to hunker down for a long few days of travel, with our last stretch getting us into Vancouver at 2:30 am, for our 7 am flight to Sidney.
We arrived at mom's door at 8 am, and knocked and knocked. No answer. I could hear faint movement behind the door, but she couldn’t get to the door. Ready to get a key from the office, the door finally opened, and mom fell into my arms. "Barbie, I thought I would die." Sometime the afternoon before, she'd fallen and couldn't get up. Freezing cold, laying on the floor, she said she was "welcoming death".
Con picked up a tray of breakfast and I hand-fed mom, and put her into a warm bath, observing that she was unable to hold herself up on the bath stool. I climbed in with my clothes on and washed her, folding the fluffy towel around her body and holding her gently. I moved into her apartment with her for two days, realizing she needed 24-hour care, unable to wash, walk, feed herself, or dress. And, she was sleeping all the time. On the third morning, I asked Con, who was staying at her big house to, “Call an ambulance”. She needed professional assessments to understand her rapid decline.
Now under the care of hospital doctors, we learned that she was dying, and had been suffering from a series of small strokes for the past six months. She didn’t know it, neither did her doctors. They were affecting the right side of her brain, all of them undetected, causing depression as well as heaps of loving emotions. She had been struggling privately over the many months to remain clear headed but never lost her focus on her love for her family and friends and expressed it many times to me throughout the days I was with her.
Her blood was the other culprit. She had low hemoglobin and platelets, but more concerning was the drastic drop in platelets to 20,000. At 30,000 a person might be able to manage with drugs, but at 20,000 she'd been hemorrhaging and her right back brain was filling with blood. The day before calling the ambulance, I noticed her usually flat stomach was swollen. A CT scan indicated that the blood was also hemorrhaging into her spleen. They won't operate. Sometimes the blood can create an outer strong shell in that area and stop the bleeding. All of this creates low blood pressure. She received more blood, and all this aside, she has an infection, a bacteria that she's fighting off with extra strong antibiotics.
Days were blending. It was perhaps on the third evening that mom was in the hospital that Dr. Taylor called the house asking for her Directive, a Living Will. Con and I dressed and drove to the hospital with it in hand. When we got there, we were told, “Doctors Taylor and Forster (her GP for many years) will be with her first thing this morning. She may not last long.” I called Doug and Merrilee in Toronto and shared the news. Con and I stayed with mom making sure she was comfortable, caressed her, and she heard me tell her many times how important she is to me and to everyone and how loved she is. I stroked her head, and she said, "It's so nice to feel my touch." Smiling, she fell back asleep. She's coherent to a certain point but now rambles about odd things, but always returns to focus. She may think she's dying, but we haven't told her. She told me yesterday that she wants to, "Go home, to heaven."
Doug arrived this morning. He, Merrilee, Con and I have been a team, working with the doctors daily and in constant email and phone discussions throughout all of this. Mom was moved into a beautiful big room in Palliative Care. It’s a different room, but the same area of the same hospital where dad spent his last six days.
There are many blessings in all this. She has had strokes but didn't know. She wasn't left in a vegetative state. She has no pain. She's filled with love and while three doctors, Doug, Con, and I were in her room, she woke from a sleep and said, "It's okay if I die now, I've had a great life." I've watched as her friends rally around her to express their affection and deep love for her. It's been a beautiful experience for me to witness such humanity. Mom and I have a special bond and being together at this time is a gift for us both.
We don't know how much longer she may have now, and the doctors don't think too much more. Please don't feel sad, but embrace this as I am as a moment to experience the wonder of life and death and acknowledge an extraordinary woman whose greatest gifts have always been her unconditional love, selflessness, and a sense of humour. She is so beautiful inside and out and everyone who knows her is shocked at the speed of her decline. Women she's known for years stop to hug her and encourage her to get better, holding her gently telling her that they love her.
Mom passed away in the early hours of December 27th, 2013. My life has now changed forever not having her in it with me.
December 2 – Con and I flew to the island to visit mom, 86, and saw that something wasn’t quite right. Usually happy and independent she was now unsure and lonely. Once full of energy, she was physically slowing and baffled by her need to sleep. She was significantly different from our last visit in April. I watched her barely able to lift her feet to take steps as if she was dragging through quick sand.
Prior to our December visit, we noticed changes in mom while chatting on Skype. Lindsey and hubby Les volunteered to fly to her. Lindsey said, “Something seemed out of whack,” but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Doug, my brother and wife Merrilee flew from Toronto and set up a series of doctor visits hoping to learn more. Her doctor of 30+ years couldn’t shed any light on the situation and gave her a clean bill of health. Later suggesting that she had a condition called “Failure to Thrive”. When we got there we visited a doctor who specializes in seniors who said mom was depressed suggesting “delayed grief” from dad’s passing three years ago. Mom didn’t think so.
The house was now too big for mom, and she agreed. We arranged a series of tours to various living arrangements and found a beautiful one-bedroom beautiful complex in Sidney where she could live independently, receive three gourmet-like meals a day, and surrounded by others, many of whom she knew. They even had a piano. Her apartment would be ready in a month, and we helped her move into a room across the hall, set up her internet, and made it homey. The community of spry seniors regularly visited mom inviting her to join them for dinner or an outing. She often declined. Our flight was in a few days and I couldn’t help but worry that the diagnosis “Failure to Thrive” and “Depression” weren’t the issues. Doug said he’d fly out in January to move mom across the hall. We would be crossing the Atlantic...
We stopped in The Netherlands on our way back to the boat, and called mom in Sidney, BC every day. One day she said, “I have to go Barbie, I have a lunch date in a few minutes.” My spirits lifted. I felt more positive that she was now receiving the exact treatment to get her back on her active feet again. We relaxed. My brother Jim lived nearby, but he was useless, never visiting, or offering help. He remained completely out of the picture as he did with my dad’s passing. My mom had come to terms with it, not understanding, but accepting it. Happily, friends rallied around her expressing their love and concern and no task was too difficult for others to help her.
December 15 -- We flew to The Netherlands for a final visit with family. Con’s mom, 97, and his five siblings all gathered at Albertine’s for a brunch. Hugo from Vancouver Island was there, in anticipation of joining us for the crossing.
Back Aboard
December 22 – We had been seven weeks away from the boat and now returned to sunny Portugal, checked into a hotel and let the cold damp Netherlands seep out of our bones. Communication with mom that night was worrying. Our positive thoughts turned to doubt. First thing in the morning, we drove to Big Sky on the hard, climbed the ladder to give a good inspection. In a few days, if the weather is right, we’d set off for the Canary Islands.
However, Con and I slowed our pace for a moment to have a frank talk about mom. She wasn’t getting better and in fact we believed she was in crisis. I heard the Yard crew calling up to us. The lift was in place and they were ready to return Big Sky to the sea. In that exact moment, we decided we had to return to Canada. I called down to the crew, “Please cancel, we must leave town.” Con pulled up the internet and found us flights. I pulled our two suitcases out of the trunk of our car, parked outside the Yard, laid them open on the sidewalk, repacked one and tossed it back into the car, and dragged the other to the ladder calling to Con to hoist it up. We turned in our rental and took a three-hour bus ride to Lisbon to begin our return journey to Vancouver Island. We’d be with mom by morning.
TAP the Portuguese airline with the 80 percent NOT ON TIME record, has been 100 percent NOT ON TIME for our six out of six flights with them. The departure didn't happen until nearly noon, causing us to miss all our connections. TAP claimed, "fog," but all the other flights were operating. Nevertheless, with the help of Air Canada in Heathrow, it appeared we would have to hunker down for a long few days of travel, with our last stretch getting us into Vancouver at 2:30 am, for our 7 am flight to Sidney.
We arrived at mom's door at 8 am, and knocked and knocked. No answer. I could hear faint movement behind the door, but she couldn’t get to the door. Ready to get a key from the office, the door finally opened, and mom fell into my arms. "Barbie, I thought I would die." Sometime the afternoon before, she'd fallen and couldn't get up. Freezing cold, laying on the floor, she said she was "welcoming death".
Con picked up a tray of breakfast and I hand-fed mom, and put her into a warm bath, observing that she was unable to hold herself up on the bath stool. I climbed in with my clothes on and washed her, folding the fluffy towel around her body and holding her gently. I moved into her apartment with her for two days, realizing she needed 24-hour care, unable to wash, walk, feed herself, or dress. And, she was sleeping all the time. On the third morning, I asked Con, who was staying at her big house to, “Call an ambulance”. She needed professional assessments to understand her rapid decline.
Now under the care of hospital doctors, we learned that she was dying, and had been suffering from a series of small strokes for the past six months. She didn’t know it, neither did her doctors. They were affecting the right side of her brain, all of them undetected, causing depression as well as heaps of loving emotions. She had been struggling privately over the many months to remain clear headed but never lost her focus on her love for her family and friends and expressed it many times to me throughout the days I was with her.
Her blood was the other culprit. She had low hemoglobin and platelets, but more concerning was the drastic drop in platelets to 20,000. At 30,000 a person might be able to manage with drugs, but at 20,000 she'd been hemorrhaging and her right back brain was filling with blood. The day before calling the ambulance, I noticed her usually flat stomach was swollen. A CT scan indicated that the blood was also hemorrhaging into her spleen. They won't operate. Sometimes the blood can create an outer strong shell in that area and stop the bleeding. All of this creates low blood pressure. She received more blood, and all this aside, she has an infection, a bacteria that she's fighting off with extra strong antibiotics.
Days were blending. It was perhaps on the third evening that mom was in the hospital that Dr. Taylor called the house asking for her Directive, a Living Will. Con and I dressed and drove to the hospital with it in hand. When we got there, we were told, “Doctors Taylor and Forster (her GP for many years) will be with her first thing this morning. She may not last long.” I called Doug and Merrilee in Toronto and shared the news. Con and I stayed with mom making sure she was comfortable, caressed her, and she heard me tell her many times how important she is to me and to everyone and how loved she is. I stroked her head, and she said, "It's so nice to feel my touch." Smiling, she fell back asleep. She's coherent to a certain point but now rambles about odd things, but always returns to focus. She may think she's dying, but we haven't told her. She told me yesterday that she wants to, "Go home, to heaven."
Doug arrived this morning. He, Merrilee, Con and I have been a team, working with the doctors daily and in constant email and phone discussions throughout all of this. Mom was moved into a beautiful big room in Palliative Care. It’s a different room, but the same area of the same hospital where dad spent his last six days.
There are many blessings in all this. She has had strokes but didn't know. She wasn't left in a vegetative state. She has no pain. She's filled with love and while three doctors, Doug, Con, and I were in her room, she woke from a sleep and said, "It's okay if I die now, I've had a great life." I've watched as her friends rally around her to express their affection and deep love for her. It's been a beautiful experience for me to witness such humanity. Mom and I have a special bond and being together at this time is a gift for us both.
We don't know how much longer she may have now, and the doctors don't think too much more. Please don't feel sad, but embrace this as I am as a moment to experience the wonder of life and death and acknowledge an extraordinary woman whose greatest gifts have always been her unconditional love, selflessness, and a sense of humour. She is so beautiful inside and out and everyone who knows her is shocked at the speed of her decline. Women she's known for years stop to hug her and encourage her to get better, holding her gently telling her that they love her.
Mom passed away in the early hours of December 27th, 2013. My life has now changed forever not having her in it with me.
