As we emerged from the gap between Tarifa and Tangier we started to feel the swell coming in from the North Atlantic. After more than ten months in the Mediterranean we had forgotten what it was like to be floating on an ocean. There was a four meter swell running, and we were a bit nervous about getting beat up by it. We shouldn’t have been concerned, as the swell gently picked us up before putting us back down again. Much more comfortable than the short period chop that was daily fare in the Med. Going into our first evening the wind began to become lighter and shifty. We raised the gennaker and started playing hide and seek with little gusts. This was to characterize our first two days at sea.

We had a frustrating start with on again off again breeze. The first morning out we caught a mahi and had it for dinner, and ceviche lunch the next day. This was to have repercussions later. Night watches were tough, as we were constantly doing single handed sail changes. The sea state calmed down, but there was a surprising amount of shipping that we had to dodge. Despite our determination to limit the amount of motoring we do on passage, we did turn on the engine and try to escape from these dead patches. After playing with light and variable winds in the Mediterranean all summer we were hoping that once we got out into the Atlantic things would be a bit more consistent. We were in an area of the globe known to have the “Portuguese Trade Winds” and were expecting to just cruise down to the Canaries in a couple days. Oh well.

The next day the wind filled in. We started sailing fast. Around sunset I started feeling a bit funny, and within a few minutes I was puking off the back of the boat. I hate puking. Kate seemed fine, which was good. Later that night, as I was trying to sleep, I heard Kate puking off the back of the boat. We both had a bad case of food poisoning, which made our last two days at sea a bit miserable. We were too weak to raise the ideal sails, so we didn’t move as fast as we could have. In the morning we were feeling a bit better, and put on a bit more speed. The wind was favorable, and remained so until we saw the stark islands of the Canaries raising themselves out of the sea. When we pulled into the anchorage on Lanzarote we were ready to sleep. The holding wasn’t very good, but we managed to snag a boulder that seemed solid enough. We rested.

November 11th was Kate’s birthday, and she decided she did not want to spend it in a crappy little anchorage. With the help of Amy from Wayfinder we were able to weasel our way into the Lanzarote Marina, next to all the other Outremers that were being serviced for their upcoming Atlantic crossing with GLYWO. This was great! The marina was very fancy with nice little restaurants and bars all around. We cleaned the boat, and had a nice evening for Kate's birthday with the crew of Wayfinder. She went and got a haircut, her first in over a year.

It was time to start thinking about our own Atlantic crossing. Matt flew in and got settled in his cabin. He had spent two months aboard KODA in the winter, and was back for the crossing, and hopefully some foiling in the Caribbean. We had a nice dinner at the old fort guarding the harbor entrance of Lanzarote, and then sailed up to La Graciosa, a small island at the north end of the main island. We found this island reminiscent of Baja, and spent three days checking it out. I rented a bike and we rode around the island, finding an interesting little wave for surfing on the north end. We didn’t bring boards, so we were limited to mind surfing.

Our first step was to find the customs and passport control, and make sure we would be able to leave on Saturday. They were helpful, and it would be easy for us to get checked out on a weekend. This was good, as we were about to be on a schedule. The next stop was to go to the big supermarket at El Corte Ingles and start our massive shop. We filled a couple carts and then had them deliver the groceries to the boat, which was a nice convenience that ended up being more trouble than it was worth. We had a couple fancy meals ashore and did more shopping. We were taking on more provisions than we had ever had aboard KODA, and I was worried, as usual, about the weight. On Friday we were about ready, and we rented a car in the morning to pick up the last bits and pieces. With those stowed aboard, we took the car for a drive up into the mountains. At first it was a bit dismal, with clouds everywhere, and visibility about 20 feet. We stopped at several of the “scenic viewpoints” and saw very little. As we made our way around towards the top, the clouds parted and we were treated to views of the mountain (tallest in Spain!) and the desolate volcanic landscape. Very much worth the drive.

We made our way back down the mountain on curvy back roads, and got to the airport a little late. Graham was waiting on the curb, and we bundled him into the car and set off back up towards the boat. It was a bit of a miracle that Graham would be joining us for the passage. He works full time as an emergency room doctor, and has a three year old as well as a nine month old baby at home. He was on a hard schedule to get back home by the 12th of December. That means we had to hustle across the ocean. We slipped the lines on the morning of November 22 and sailed out of Santa Cruz Marina. A neighboring Outremer, Arriba, was kind enough to get some pictures of us leaving.

We had close to three thousand miles to sail before we would get to land again, and a whole bunch of food to eat.