Harmonica

Harmonica, Jan, & Dave arrived in The Azores on 14 July. We visited 3 of the 9 islands, and left 9th August with Brian Williams & our son Mark also on board. The Azores make an obvious rest stop roughly 1700 from Bermuda & 1000 miles from Gibralta. The Azores also make a lovely cruising area. The archipelago of volcanic islands stretches over 300 miles, although none is more 30 miles long. Many reach about 1,000 metres elevation and the cone of Pico rises to 2200 metres. At the same latitude as San Francisco and Portugal, we had pleasant, warm, but blustery weather. However, when the small towns build break=waters they are about 40 ft high. The houses look built for winter storms, and crews who wintered in Horta say they got used to boats heeling over at dock. The volcanic soils are fertile, and farms fight back the wild hydrangeas for pasture for their cattle.

Neither of us had heard portuguese before. The vocabulary is similar to spanish, but the sound is entirely different. Azorians have been particularly patient & friendly, possibly because the air services are inconvenient and, although tourism is encouraged, there is not enough to spoil the atmosphere. This is supposedly an economic backwater of Europe which qualifies for EEC grants augmented by relief for earthquake damage. It is a delightful, & friendly place.

Our landfall at Flores calls itself the western tip of Europe, half way from Lisbon to Newfoundland. After a week of drifting round the northern edge of the Azores High, the base of a dull grey cloud slowly lifted to show the cliffs of Flores from 20 miles away. We were practically at the breakwater before we saw the town of Lajes snaking up from the port to the slopes above. Buildings with white painted walls, red tile roofs, red & yellow flowers everywhere. Small irregular fields seperated by stone walls, and patches of woodland rose above the the town.

The islanders gained a reputation in Boston for providing whaling crews, and that started a portuguese population in Massachusets which is still thriving and still drawing young Azorians away from home. Flores used to be home to over 16,000 people but housed about 4,500 at the last census. Behind the breakwater we dropped anchor, went ashore by dinghy, checked in by completing a few papers on the hood of a car and wandered up into town. There we bought a cup of hot coffee & a sandwich in one of several little restaurants where the local men drink beer & chat in the afternoon. Shopping that first day found us no bread & not much fruit (these are good & plentiful twice a week when the boat comes in), but red wine at $1 per bottle.

Each night, at anchor, a sound like several "jewish harps" filled the bay under the cliffs, and it took a few days to establish that the local boobies (some type of shearwater) fly around making this noise but only at night.

After 19 days at sea, a walk was the order of the day, so next morning we set out at random towards the south-west. The things which looked like lichen-covered piles of stone were actually thick hedges of wild, blue hydrangea. The second of 2 vehicles which stopped beside us to offer rides was a small Renault already containing 2 parents & 2 children. This was an emmigrant family returning on holiday, and they drove us round every road on Flores during the next 2 days. Such is the open friendliness of most of the people we met. Most of the centre is open sweeps of volcanic hills, covered with soft peat moss and several calderas filled with lakes. Our new host showed us the fence posts which he had carried and set when parts of this land were reclaimed for grazing.

We stayed for the first 2 days of the Lajes Festival. Everybody was in the street, and by this time we recognised several of them. Music, sideshows, dinghy racing, whaling boat competitions, running away from bulls on the soccer field (one did not run fast enough), and lots of eating.

Then, a boisterous 130 mile sail took us to Horta, Faial. Another friendly place, though much busier & more comsmopolitan. Harmonica was rafted 6 deep against the wall. A host port for races & rallies, Horta is a real meeting point for yachts. There were more french, dutch & british boats than american, and some racing boats with the cruisers. Close by was Penduik III in which Erik Tabarley won the trans-Atlantic single-handed race in the ??1960s. We had supper with Ray returning from completing the 2001 trans-Atlantic single-handed race in a contessa 32 which he built himself. Several boats left in a rally/race from Holland & back. Both races had gale or strom force winds to battle into, and we have lost the desire to sail to Ireland this year.

One afternoon, we had a group in the cockpit with violin, guitar, electric keyboard & 3 recorders. We have never thought of ourselves as good enough to plays within earshot of others, but it turned out to be a lot of fun trying everything from Baroque to Pop and Irish folk. The recorders came out again for the birthday party of our neighbour on the raft. Jan & Dave rented bicylces and rode down the volcano in Faial. More sweeps of hillside and pasture filled with flowers. However, we were frustrated in our main reason for getting there early: dispite excellent help from "Mid Atlantic Yacht Services", we did not get our autopilot fixed or replaced. Thank goodness for the wind vane steering!


After Mark & Brian arrived by air, we went to see the new volcanic cone which spouted into the sea in the 1950s, & climbed the volcano in Pico, giving a wonderful view down on the clouds & miles of ocean. Then it was one overnight sail to the island of Terceira, and a brief stop in the "World Heritage Site" town of Angra before heading out towards Portugal & mainland Europe. Herb's weather forecasts are quicker now because fewer boats are checking in from the Atlantic, but the radio reception is poor.

Greetings from Harmonica, Dave & Jan, Mark, & Brian