Next Stop: Horta

We intended to spend a couple of days on Flores. That turned into two weeks. One local said if we've seen Flores, we've seen the Azores. Perhaps he's biased, but it's easy to believe.

This is by far the most beautiful place I've seen in my life. The island is COVERED with flowers. Dramatic sea cliffs plunge into the ocean. Cows roam rolling green hills separated by vibrant blue hydrangeas. Sleepy towns hide streets of cobblestone cut from lava rock. Whitewashed homes are topped with red clay roofs. Instead of grass lawns, locals have burgeoning gardens of corn, potatoes, squash, cabbage, tomatoes and cucumber.

Beautiful landscapes aren't the islands only treasure--the people of Flores create the friendliest, most generous community I've ever experienced. And this is as an outsider. You know how people in cities suddenly find the ground really interesting when you walk by? Here, every person greets you as a friend.

We traveled Flores by hitchhiking (the customs official even recommended it). Rarely did more than three cars pass before someone pulled over. What's more, they would stop at scenic spots along the way, turn off the engine, and patiently wait for us to take pictures before continuing. After the second person tried stopping to let us take pictures, we insisted they keep driving, feeling guilty we were taking advantage of their overwhelming generosity.

Amanda and I sat on the dock next to some locals one night and fished for dinner. We eventually packed up empty-handed. But before we could leave, the fisherman beside us reached into his catch and filled a recycled grocery bag with enough fish to feed a family of ten. Us not speaking Portuguese, he not speaking English, we understood each other perfectly; Amanda and I couldn't leave without accepting the fish.

Over the weekend, we ran out of Euros and the local banks were closed. An annual festival was taking place and the locals set up large tent restaurants for the occasion.

We befriended the chef of one restaurant, a Finnish immigrant named Tino, who happened to be taking a break on the street. Amongst casual conversation, we mentioned our dilemma.

"No worries!" he said. "Come eat at my restaurant and pay whenever you can."

The thing is, the festival ended that night and the restaurant would be dismantled and staff disbanded.

"How can we pay if you won't be here tomorrow?" I asked.

"I live on the other side of the island, just ask around for the crazy Finnish guy!" Tino Replied.

With that, we were treated as guests of honor.

Three days later we sought out Tino's house to pay our dinner bill. It only took two tries to find someone who knew him.

"Go up the street. You'll see a big yellow house--that's not his house. Go past it and turn right. Walk down the alley and look for a stone wall between two white houses with a barking dog. Follow the grass trail until you see the wooden house with a grass roof." Explained a woman named Rafaela.

We should've expected that simply paying for our meal and continuing on was out of the question. Tino invited us into his home and introduced us to his family. We spent the afternoon picking vegetables in his organic garden, preparing a feast for dinner, sharing stories, and of course, eating said feast.

While we could easily spend months here, the Flores experience simply reinforces the need to sail on. How many other Flores' await with beautiful vistas and warm people waiting to share a meal and a story?

A small weather window opens tonight amongst 12 foot seas and 30 knot winds...Horta, here we come!

In the News!

Hello Everyone! Today is a beautiful day in Lajes das Flores, Azores :) We recently were featured in an article in the Northwest Florida Daily News. You can find the article at this location http://www.nwfdailynews.com/local/come-sail-away-couple-spends-year-seeking-adventure-on-the-high-seas-photos-1.349224

Soon we will head east to explore a few more islands in the Azorean archipelago. More to come soon!

Crossing the Pond: Bermuda to the Azores

With ample time to think, I've come up with a good way to visualize what our trip is like. However, we're roughing it compared to most sailors we've met, so this may not be the average Trans-Atlantic experience.

Imagine locking yourself in an empty room. You can bring with you two pictures: One of stormy seas, the other depicting a flat, motionless ocean. Also bring a few granola bars into the room.  Now stare at one picture for several hours. When you get tired of it, switch to the other picture. Tired of it? Switch back to the first. Eat a granola bar, then spin in circles 20 times until you're dizzy.  Now stagger around the room, shoulder pressed to wall, leaning at a 45 degree angle so you don't fall over. Now splash yourself in the face with cold water. Let the water soak into the carpet, and take a nap in it. Yay, sailing!

 We averaged 100 mile days for the first 1,200 miles of our voyage. Once again, despite a perfect weather forecast, high winds and rough seas were the norm. We're starting to question the weather man's credentials...this whole "sunny with a chance of clouds" prediction isn't cutting it.

As we pushed further east, we expected to receive calmer weather due to the Azores High, but conditions continued to worsen. Come to find out, we were feeling the distant effects of Hurricane Arthur! While clear of the danger zone, winds still pushed above 30 knots. Never mind Six Flags, we've got our own roller coaster ride.  Amanda nearly drowned by drinking water while the ride was in operation; rookie mistake. 

We encountered several interesting color shifts in the water from electric blue to dark teal for a few hundred miles in the middle of the Atlantic, then back to electric blue near the Azores. Dolphins are EVERYWHERE out here. We even dodged a few turtles!
 

Two hundred miles from the Azores, the ocean turned to glass.  Hot, static air brewed thunderstorms that towered overhead like a parthenon of the gods, majestic and forbidding.  By evening, columns of rain, black with density, poured from the sky.  Bolts of lightning struck the ocean.  Flashes in the clouds illuminated the colossus as it billowed higher.  Never in my life have I felt so small and helpless.

On day 20, we could make out the faint outline of land covered in a salty haze.  As we approached the island of Flores, the wind and swell increased. And increased. And increased.  Once again, we were in the middle of terrible weather, and once again, it was the exact opposite of predicted patterns. Winds around Flores normally blow from the Southwest, so we approached the island from that direction. After 1,700 miles, we were now within 15 miles of the island.  Fifteen miles!  And that's when the wind picked up.  From the Northeast.  For 2 days we hove to and drifted.  For 3 days we fought to make windward progress, only to get pushed back again. Five days and an extra 200 miles of zig-zagging later, we were again within 15 miles of the island. You can bet that we weren't letting it slip away a second time.

We´re Alive!! Made it to Flores, Azores

Hey Everyone! After 25 crazy days - we´ve made it to Flores, Azores!!! We will be updating the blog once we find wifi (a museum was nice enough to let us on their computer), but time to get some exercise, fresh food and good rest :)