Author name: Jamie Furlong

Been a liveaboard since 2005, spending first few years living in Turkey. Started sailing a few years before when I joined my father on his retirement present we got for him: a sailing course across the North Sea! Been writing about every single trip, both on sea and on land, since that day. Take photography seriously but miss my decks.

A Window Of Opportunity?

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The skipper had pointed out that there was a window of good weather so the possibility of leaving this evening was a real one. The Germans in the wooden ketch next to us obviously thought so and left Bayona at lunch. It wasn’t until we checked the weather that evening that that window of opportunity had turned foul. As dark clouds drew in and the boat bobbed around the forecast was predicting winds of up to 100km! Just as well we didn’t go out when we were planning to as the sh!t really hit the fan. But what of those Germans?

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Tapas And Triv

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The views of the Portuguese coast were unusually clear. The west coast is notorious for poor visibility and fog. The last few miles, however, were spent with the wind on the nose in a force 5-6, with the bow jumping around and watches spent concentrating on avoiding lobster pots. We approached Bayona on the Spanish border late at night. As soon as we hit the port Lee and I spent half an hour tracking down cigarettes and beer…

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A Fantastic First Catch – Reel It In, Baby!

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It was a beautiful day but there was a strong cold wind, unfortunately coming from the wrong direction so we motor sailed up the west coast past Lisboa, Cascais, Sintra etc. The wind was a light northerly, on the nose, making the passage mildly uncomfortable, so to cheer myself up I christened Harold and cast him over the transom. At the time of writing he hadn’t caught anything yet but I had high hopes for this baby. He looked like a killer!

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A Sailing Blind Date

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After a number of calls to Kevin the skipper we arranged to meet at Heathrow at some ungodly hour in the morning. It felt like one of us should have been wearing a carnation in our jacket, as though we were on a blind date. I’d never met Kevin before but we had been thrown together by Professional Yacht Deliveries to help deliver a Malo 36 from Portugal to Dartmouth, UK. If this were to be a meaningful relationship then it was to be a threesome since we were also waiting upon Lee, who turned up at the departure gate at the last minute.

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Crew: Mayfly

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This was Jamie’s first delivery for Professional Yacht Deliveries World Wide, a UK-based yacht delivery company. It provided Jamie with the opportunity to sail with an experienced skipper, Kevin Smith. As it turned out the first mate, Lee, was just as experienced and together they provided Jamie with a wealth of knowledge and learning.

The journey from Lagos in the Algarve, Portugal, to Dartmouth in the UK, took just under two weeks. A few days were spent in Bayona due to bad weather.

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Sailing Green Island, Antigua

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Although we hadn’t yet bought our boat we were well aware of the thoroughbred qualities of a Sparkman and Stevens. Geoff, who hails from the Isle of Wight, is a frequent visitor to Antigua and his fine vessel, ‘Siesta’, is one such example of an S+S. In fact one could argue he’s really a resident, though he often crosses the pond on his own.

Nutter!

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Crew: Siesta

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Liz and I were introduced to Geoff by Dobby, and is based in English Harbour working as a chippie. Originally reigning from Cowes, Isl of Wight, sailing is obviously in Geoff’s blood. He’s single-handedly crossed the pond a couple of times, which when you think about it is pretty remarkable.

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Meeting Mad Lords

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When I finally left I got a taxi ride to the airport, which took me through the inside of the island. As I said my memory is a little vague but that taxi journey sticks in my mind as being one of the best road-trips I’ve taken in my life. Why? I’m not sure. I think it was the stark contrast of a Caribbean blue sky, distant shimmering waters and the rich green vegetation of the banana plantations.

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Crew: Bagpuss

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The great thing about sailing is the social life. Many an evening has been spent propping up the bar, drinking rum and chatting to locals and yachties alike. Edward and I met Alan and Bev whilst doing exactly that in Marigot Bay. This is where Admiral Rodney hid from the French, using coconut fronds to disguise the tops of the masts from the passing enemy. We didn’t make any enemies whilst we were there but we did bump into a fantastic couple, Alan and Bev, who where on a make-it-up-as-you-go-along world cruise.

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Crew: Blue Monkey

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Blue Monkey was a tired old Beneteau 46 belonging to the charter company Moorings. It was our duty to deliver the boat to the Moorings base in Marigot Bay, St Lucia, in one piece. It wasn’t until we completed our task and got off Blue Monkey that the steering went, the autohelm was lost and the boat literally fell apart in front of our eyes.

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Rum And Romance

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When you’ve spent over three weeks at sea Antigua really is a piece of heaven on earth. We don’t need to tell you what it was like because it’s all that you imagine it to be: warm, idyllic, welcoming and simply stunning. With free-flowing rum and the fact it was approaching Christmas the vibe was fully switched on to ‘party’ mode. Tim, Dobby, Michel and myself rented a shack for a month on top of a hill overlooking Falmouth Harbour and quickly sussed the perfect recipie for rum-punch. Yachts came and went, providing the south of the island with crowds of party people who crammed the local joints like the Mad Mongoose.

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Antigua – Totally Tropical Taste

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Within the space of a couple of hours Michel, Dobby, Tim and myself sorted out some accommodation – a breezeblock house that sits on top of a hill, overlooking Falmouth Harbour. Every evening we sit on our balcony, rum punch in hand, and overlook our lucky find. The crickets strike up a Caribbean drum pattern and we sit there, getting slowly eaten by the mozzies gazing out at the huge super yachts in the marina.

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Canaries – Atlantic – Antigua!

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Three hours and forty five minutes before my estimated time of arrival we drop anchor at 6.15am, just in time to watch the sun rise over a beautiful and lush looking island! Cracking open our last bottle of wine we celebrate and congratulate each other on our safe passage which, of course, has been one memorable trip!

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Bobbing Along With Rope Burns

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Maybe it isn’t going to end. We’ve no wind and we’re doing minus one knot. The air is close and it is baking hot. Everyone is tired and I’ve got a headache. I managed to give myself rope burns to the hand and we’ve run out of gas. Our destination is only 80 miles away and we’ve just been bobbing aimlessly.

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