Thanks to Joel Bergen for this design which he did for his navigator 'Ellie'.
I now have a semi completed sleeping platform for my aft port cockpit side. The sleeping platform slips under the thwart 3cm coaming overhang and then rests on the slotted uprights. The whole lot can be taken part and collapsed into the floor well where flat straps hold them secure.
So a bit more sanding and then several layers of varnish. finally some thin neoprene strip will be stuck to edges to act as 'cushioning'.
It was nice to get into the garage yesterday, The weather was too foul for gardening. The upper garden slopes need some forestry work, some trees need felling and the bramble undergrowth needs clearing before it starts to grow again. Some large hazel trees need pruning as well.
Anyway, most of the day was spent in the garage. Holes were drilled in the plastic anchor bucket floors to aid drainage; floor rails were attached to each to stop them scarring the forward cockpit floors. I bought some of those foam jigsaw mats you see in DIY stores for a fiver and these have been cut and shaped to fit into the forward cockpit floor wells. The anchor buckets will sit on top of these.
Cardboard templates were cut for the new sleeping platform on the port side of the aft cockpit well and it was then transferred to some 9mm ply. Twenty minutes at the band saw and one sleeping platform and 3 vertical support uprights have appeared. I now need to cut three more uprights and then cut slots in to each one so that they will fit together.
Cut some of the fender warps to a better length and whipped the ends of these. Finished some whipping on a few frayed halyards. And finally varnished first coat on the anchor bucket runners.
Radio 4 in the background; a steady supply of tea and biscuits.
It is amazing how four hours can fly by.
Sometime this week, the remaining uprights will be cut; everything will get several coasts of varnish and then I will start on the new hull mast supports. I want to rest the masts on some 1" thick plywood with curved cut outs that will fit on the front and rear decks. It will make the mast and spar transport far easier and smoother.
Busy, busy, busy. Now if only we can get some really sunny, warm weather at Easter, then I can get the hull interior sanded and painted.
An empty plane; room to stretch, happy cabin crew and
pilots. 41,000 feet. Laptop, papers, Levinson Wood and his adventures across
the Himalaya (good book by the way Levinson – thanks), snacks. A thoroughly
enjoyable four-hour flight. One of the best I have been on. Well done TUI.
Taurito, small but bold almost brash but in a good way.
A valley ravine lined by four towering tiered hotels that contour into the
hillsides themselves. The narrow central section down to the sea lined by a
garden, play area and aquapark.Palm
lined sidewalks with lovely blue and white mosaic pavement slabs covered by the black blobs of the fallen dried out dates.
The valley sides are near vertical, upper slopes multi
banded colours of volcanic rocks. Everywhere is dry, barren and stark. There is
no vegetation on these slopes; nothing to hold back rockfalls. Coastal roads
out of the valley are sinuous with multiple hairpin bends at their starts.
surprisingly at no time did we find the hotel crowded
Taurito is something out of the Flintstones, a modern
version of Bedrock but it has charm. Lots of charm and we really liked it. This
is only the second package holiday we have ever been on so we weren’t sure what
to expect. The thirteen floors of the Taurito Princess are anchored to the rockface.
It is a typical modern all-inclusive resort hotel, clean, bright, efficient and
friendly. External glass elevators whisk people to and from upper floors in
silence, giving fantastic views across this small resort. Resplendent marble
floors give old geologists like me plenty to browse. The beach below is black
sand and clean. It’s lined by a promenade below which are cafes, water sports
cabins and shops. The beach has the obligatory sun loungers and umbrellas, an
area cordoned off for departing jet skis.
Having saved £600 by taking this last-minute package
deal, we used the hotel as a base to tour the island and this worked out
really, really well. It isn’t our normal way of travelling but Airbnb, B and B
and agritourism approaches were all costing much more and now we are pensioners,
we have to take the savings where we get them.
a fantastic garden terrace with sublime sunsets every evening.
Glass of wine, comfy chairs, sit back and watch the sun set after a busy day
Perfect!
Tips:
If you have a hire car, parking outside the hotel is very limited; however, there is a large gravel area about 500m back up the road, which is free to park on
Any road pavement which has yellow paint on it is an illegal parking area and you will get a ticket
Any road with blue markings - is a pay and display area
The road to Puerto Mogan is closed due to a landslide. The road is closed off and monitored by local police. The best way to get to Puerto Mogan is by local bus at the top of the hotel road. However, due to the road system, it is around a 30 minute bus ride and you will need to change buses at Playa del Cura.
Shops close in Taurito at 9pm
There is one small supermarket in the resort; most other shops sell tourist souvenirs and beach gear
Bone
shaking, finger aching, dust coating, terror inducing, eye popping,teeth rattling,body slamming,wheel spinning, buggy driving. Open buggies
with strut suspension, thick knobbly tires and bucket seats with seatbelt chest
and wait harnesses. Automatic with no gears, they go like a bomb. Ours was the
2.5 hr tour with Buggy Pirates in Maspalomas.
I’m not sure
what I was expecting. The welcome was warm, the pre-tour instructions from Sasha
clear. We filled in the paper work, took on board what he said about driving on
roads, obeying the law and not trying sliding or hand brake turning.
And then we
were off in buggy 12, tail end Charlie with a large Spanish flag attached to
the rear roll cage struts. Easy to see by the leader apparently!There are advantages and disadvantages to
being tail end Charlie. The advantages are simple, you get to see what’s coming
and therefore have a few seconds more preparation time than the front leaders.
The disadvantage is you get everyone’s dirt and dust!
We set off
up the road that we had grown so familiar with, route GC-504, stopping off at a
viewpoint to admire the valleys below. Sunnies on, and top speeds for around
50kph it was exhilarating. Down switch backs and hairpin bends, through small
towns and villages we roared. The first 50 minutes were on normal tarmac roads.
The last 30 minutes was off-road. And this is where we have to say we were
slightly disappointed. Yes, it was off road, bumpy, dusty stony tracks. But
they were the approach roads/tracks to an old quarry. We honestly thought we
would be going up old gravel tracks up the sides of valleys and into the island interior. This was an
assumption on our part based on a video we had seen on YouTube. Anyway, we
raced up the track, we came down the track. We had a 40m diversion over some
humps and thick dust and that was it. Disappointing that off road section.
Sorry, but it was.
We were of
course caked in dust. Thank heavens we’d been supplied with goggles and we had
bought scarves with us. Our hair was thick and matted; fleeces turned from
whatever original colour they were to a drab khaki colour.
Would we
recommend Buggy Pirates? Yes, but with that one proviso about expectations on
the off-road bit.
The plan for the day lay in the hands of
‘Her-indoors’. No driving today. I think she was feeling traumatized after
yesterday. That isn’t to say I am a bad driver. I’m not according to her but
steep drops, hairpin bends, meeting buses on the bends; well there is only so
much a girl can take on one journey. I mean we did nearly die when a red Volkswagen
convertible beetle came around a blind bend on a narrow mountain road at about
60mph on our side of the road, which I have to say was rather terrifying given
we had a crash barrier and then a 1000’ drop on our side and no room to move
into!
So today we
caught the bus from Taurito at 8.40am; changed buses 5 kilometres up the coast
road at Playa Del Cura and then caught the next bus into Puerto Rico; which
proved to be a major disappointment. Don’t get me wrong, it is pretty enough
and clean, with a great sandy beach protected by two harbour breakwaters and
with a west and east marina. However, it is also hotel and apartment central.
The hillsides are just covered with white buildings and it made us appreciate
how tiny a resort Taurito really is. Not our cup of the at all so we caught the
glass bottomed boat ferry to Port Mogan, a pleasant 30-minute voyage along the
coastline hugging the cliffs.
Glass
bottomed is a bit of a misnomer. It is a 10’ x 4’ rectangular hole in the
bottom of the boat lined at the bottom with plexiglass through which bog all
can be seen. So, if you visit, don’t get conned. It is basically a water taxi
ferry and pleasant enough if you accept this.
The ‘Global’
bus system on the island is pretty efficient but note not so much at a weekend.
The normal adherence to published timetables seen throughout weekdays goes out
of the window, based on our experiences today. Even one of the bus drivers
admitted that it operated ’Spanish timekeeping’ at the weekend. What that means
is buses don’t run according to the timetable as accurately as one might hope,
so expect lengthy waits
Puerto Mogan
is a pleasant, pretty small port. A small protected harbour for tourist boats,
visiting yachts and a small fishing fleet, it has a sandy beach between two
protective breakwater arms, a promenade with cafes, restaurants and typical
seaside tourist shops selling Spanish souvenirs. There is a small shopping
centre and then a very and I do mean very pretty marina village.
Whoever
designed this should have won some serious architectural awards. Small
apartments separated by narrows streets linked with brightly coloured
bougainvillea flowers. Simply stunning. Known as ‘little Venice’ because of the
canals that link the marina to the fishing port, I’d say this name was
stretching it a little. There are two canals basically, which you can’t walk
along; nor pass boats through. But that isn’t to detract from what is a tastefully
designed, beautiful marina development with palms and old-style canary island
architecture.
Above this
development on the western slopes of the Barranco lies the old original port
village. Think like the steep hillside communities of Rio De Janeiro but
smaller, neater and better maintained. White washed houses are built
haphazardly up the slope separated by narrow alleyways and steep sets of steps.
Behind one community at the very top is an excellent ‘mirador’ or viewpoint
affording astounding views across the whole port marina and town.On the eastern flanks are archaeological
sites of the original ancient settlers who first farmed and settled the
Barranco.
Puerto Mogan
is a ‘stroll around’ town; easy going without the hassle of trades people and
street hawkers although ironically, we saw two street con artists working the three-card
trick ruse under a sign which warned tourists to be aware of pick pockets and
con artists. All too aware of the sign and the irony, the two con artists made
the most of the incongruous situation much to the amusement of all!
Down at the
marina berths, sailors set about their chores. The stern to sea wall berthing
seen across the Mediterranean, is also seen here and it gives passing tourists
a great insight into a working large yacht. On some boats crews were packing up
and shipping out, huge duffle bags being packed in the cockpits. On another
boat, a crew were winching a fellow crew member up the mast to affect some
repairs. Crew were having a brunch with copious amounts of wine in one cockpit,
which at 10.30 in the morning seemed a tad early to me; but hey what do I know.
I’m a lifelong tea totaller, unlike her indoors, so based on no experience, I
am unable to pass comment or judgement. Her indoors seemed to approve so I
guess it was an OK time!
Sat at a
corner café, we drank Café con Leche and watched the world go by; people came
and went towards the ferry departure point; a man spent time hand feeding the
birds; others watched the mullet cruising the crystal-clear waters of the marina.
All in all,
it was a pleasant day and if you have the chance, visit Puerto Mogan. You
won’t regret it. Picturesque, quaint, charming, all are appropriate adjectives
to describe this little town.
Some tips:
It has a
pleasant street market every Friday.
Go get a
freshly made mojito on a Friday. Watch it be made with freshly pressed sugar
cane. It is quite an art and street performance!
The GC-500
between Puerto Mogan and Taurito is out of action – Cerrada – ‘closed’ due to a
landslip. This situation has already been running three months, necessitating a
longer car or taxi journey up onto the GC1 motorway, eastwards to the next exit
where you shoot off down to the roundabout to shoot back onto the GC1 but this
time heading west to get to Puerto Mogan! It is a real pain and necessitates a
longer bus journey involving a change of buses at Playa del Cura, so make
allowances of this.
The plan was
simple enough but as is the case the execution of it proved tricky. The aim to
go high into the interior hinterlands and do a walk. We had picked the spot,
Soria and a walk around Presa de Soria (Lake Soria). An altitude of 1500m and a
4.5 hr circuit of some 16km.
Getting out
of the resort proved the first hurdle. A recent landslide closing the road west
to Puerto Mogan means you have to head east to Tauro to pick up the motorway; a
20-minute diversion. The GC 200 after Mogan climbed and climbed up through the
ravine, switch back after switch back. The Citroen Cactus never came out of first
or second gear. Towering cliffs above with caves scattered across their
vertical faces, the old dwellings of shepherds and possibly even the original
gaucho inhabitants from centuries ago.
Up through cypress pine forests, the
narrowing road twisted and turned. Some hairpin bends so sharp that the road
above was practically on top of the road beneath. The drops, breath taking.
Literally. Down below in the valleys, terraces built by hand. But none of the
greenery one would expect. For the November rains this year did not appear and
the landscape vegetation has a dry brown wispy wheat hue to it. On the inside
bends of roads that clung to cliffsides, rock falls and scattered stones across
tarmac. Every corner approached at 10mph in case some locals from the highest
villages came whizzing around corners. As a light mountain mist drizzle
appeared, rainbows broke out across gorges, their tops not even reaching the
summit of the highest cliffs. Breath taking views.
The highest
road the GC 505 nearly broke us both. Barely the width of the car, uneven and
cracked tarmac with slumping on outer corners, it wound across the cliffsides,
multiple hairpin bends built one on top of the other. ‘Her indoors’, who on
many occasions has displayed nerves of steel (best demonstrated on the occasion
when walking home one night to our Namibian hut, we got caught between wild
elephants on the one side of the dusty track and hunting lions on the other and
she displayed hergrit and courage by
singing ‘Nellie the elephant’ at the top of her voice to scare everything away.
It worked by the way), anyway she refused to film any part of this particular
road section because both hands were gripping anything they could on the car! Occasionally
where there was space, thin grey metal pipes ran alongside the fragmented tarmac
and in places hand built narrow concrete leats, long since dried up, crossed
underneath.
The descent
in to Soria was positively spine tingling and not in a good way. Her indoors
nerves were by now, severely frayed and that is very rare. Very rare indeed.
The cafe at Soria was so welcome.
Beneath a tree, hikers sought shade from the
rising sun, their heavy packs dumped on the ground around them. Here the
walking route s60 brings walkers respite and toilets before it continues it
winding way across the mountains and ravines. For us it bought tranquillity and
time to repair damaged nerves. Suffice to say it took several cappuccinos with
lashings of fresh cream on top and several sugars, and I mean several, before
composure was restored. Mine that is. Her indoors? She just sucked her breath
in a couple of times and commented ‘Interesting
drive darling, well done’. Despite thirty three years of marriage, I wasn’t
quite sure whether she was being sarcastic or not!
Across from
our café, a small village of white washed and yellow houses with red roofs
clung to the hillside terraces. Each one had its own small fenced off garden.
Dates, bananas, tangerines and oranges. Some outhouses had small stable blocks
with goats and chickens. A rural economy high in the mountains.
And the
lake? Completely gone. A 4km long, 60m deep lake just not there. A dam sitting
forlornly, mourning past times when it held back the November deluges. The
incongruous site of three rowing boats sat high and dry up a steep slope summed
up the drought!
Fortified,
we set up off the road to the car park. And what a car park. In an amphitheatre
of towering cliffs. I realised, with no disrespect to northern colleagues, how
small Malham Cove is! Vertical, wind sculpted volcanic cliffs, stood proud, shades
of varying colour against a bright blue sky. And, hugging the steep narrow
ravine, a stony track barely a car’s width, contouring its way upwards at a
gradual incline. Our path!
With a chill
in the air, thin clouds hugging towering buttresses and a very faint but
perceptible misty drizzle, we donned fleeces and put best feet forward. Through
the pine trees with their huge pine cones littering the stony floor and their
periodic stunning vistas across small farms, abandoned huts and ancient stone
wall terraces, far below us, we trudged forward purposefully. Through the bamboo
thickets, along walls of volcanic rock, multi coloured with huge volcanic bombs
lodged within walls of rock hard ash. Between volcanic boulders, grew tufts of thin
spikey grasses and small bushes with tiny leaves to protect against
evapotranspiration losses. Plant environmental adaptation at its best.
Scattered and in small groves, date palm trees; and punctuating the skylines on
the cliff tops far above, random pines. Periodically 20m above us, a cave,
protected by a rough hand built stone wall. We’ve yet to work out how anyone
scaled the cliff to actually reside in these caves in the first place. I used
to climb but it was beyond my comprehension how people managed to reach some of
these ancient dwellings.
In front of
us a steep gorge ravine a kilometre across slowly revealed itself; its right
hand near vertical flank towering another 900m above us. Thick layers of hardened
dolerite gave a differentially weathered, banded appearance to the cliffs which
were periodicallybisected by narrow but
towering prehistoric column lava flows. Occasionally, a small passing place
would afford an opportunity to stop and marvel at the unfolding vistas below. Serrated
mountain ridges descended to the sea silhouetted against the bright blue skies,
like a dragons scaly, spiky backbone. In the faint misty drizzle more rainbows,
their colours lurid against the dull blacks and browns of the banded
cliffsides. One felt so small in such an impressive, rugged and wild landscape.
A few
kilometres up, the view behind afforded us the opportunity to watch an ancient
open topped Suzuki jeep begin its way up the very track we walked. Incredulous
does not sufficiently sum up our feelings as we watched it inch and crawl its
way up the track. At times the passenger side wheels were barely on the track
and stones were sliding beneath and rolling hundreds of metres down slope. But,
with consummate skill, the driver drew closer, his speed measured and constant,
the little white jeep rocking from side to side as tyres crossed rocks and
dips.A wave, the glimpse of a young
weathered brown face with alert eyes and welcoming smile and the jeep with its
astonishing driver disappeared around the bend.We watched it climb steadily into the distance clinging to the vertical
wall rockface until eventually it reached a summit and disappeared from view.
As we
steadily climbed, above us on the steep rock-strewn slopes with its low Mediterranean
scrub, goat bells could be heard. Somewhere goats were traversing the slopes
and it took time to spot them, their brown and black coats camouflaged against
the ground. Higher still, the barks of dogs reverberated around the mountain
peaks, the bark echo lasting several seconds and bouncing off the towering
buttresses and ravine walls. It sounded impressive and slightly scary. Maybe it
was a pack of dogs and not just the two that barked first!!
Towards the
highest col, the weather began to change. A stiff breeze, the north-east trade
winds, began to build and clouds thickened on summit peaks above. Fine drizzle
turned to something slightly heavier and dampness pervaded the dry, clean
mountain air. Dusty dry rocks took on a glistening sheen and the sun became
hidden, its warm glow struggling to burn off greying clouds.We discussed options and decided on going a
little further, for ahead, intriguingly, lay a low white washed building,
almost carved into the vertical cliff above it; and in front of it, the white
Suzuki jeep.Turning the steep corner by
a single tall eucalyptus tree, there in the shade of a stunted pine, a café!
Well, the wooden hand painted sign said café. Three plastic wicker stools
surrounding a wooden keg with a flat circular board nailed on top sat under a
roadside tree. In the table’s centre a small display built in a pyramid
fashion. Some small bottles of water, some non-alcoholic beers, jars of picked
cheese and small jars of golden brown syrupy honey surrounded a vase with herbs
and grasses in. A crate of oranges lay resting against the lower portion of the
barrel; behind an icebox and a pile of papaya. Two small machete knives with
coarse twine handles were stuck in a strap surrounding the lower barrel
portion.
From beneath
the tree and its shade rose a lean figure. White cowboy hat, blue shirt and
faded jeans, blond hair and beard, bright blue eyes and the young weather
beaten brown face. Instantly recognisable as Suzuki jeep driver, he beckoned us
up the short steep track and in clear accented English welcomed us to his
‘check’ point café. The smile was broad and welcoming, the handshake firm.
Strong, nut brown hands, blistered in places. Hands that toiled the land.
Water was
proffered for free along with two fresh oranges. Money for this sustenance was
refused but ‘perhaps we could buy some
honey and cheese’. Price, whatever we felt acceptable. Two dogs, obedient
to their young master with the shy smile, lolled at our feet; always alert to
the slightest sound. Clearly very good guard dogs!
Dom, it
turned out was Czech, hence the ‘czech point café! He lived and worked in
Blackpool for five years, rescuing and then taking over the running of a local
skip business from its disorganised and perhaps less than honest owner.Now, here high in the mountains and far from
the crowded coastal strip, he looked after a second home cottage for a German
lady who visited twice a year. We discussed mountain life and its difficulties;
we swapped stories of how global warming was affecting our respective
environments. How few British tourist walked the trails. Fresh papaya and
tangerines picked from the tree behind were offered and payment refused. Both
were the freshest, juiciest fruits we have ever tasted (well perhaps the fresh
dates were in Messini, Greece and the freshest mangos on a Costa Rican beach,
might just win, but only by the very narrowest of margins. They certainly
didn’t have the welcome and generous spirit attached though).
The dogs
shuffled stones towards our feet with their noses, ready for some fun; instantly
earning a gentle but firm rebuke from their young master. Stones were bad for their teeth.We discussed the advantages of solar panels,
how he had internet and TV even in this remote area and how he loved the simple
life tending chickens, looking after his goats, dogs and donkey. He explained
the benefits of organic farming, so necessary to make things grow when water
was short. Did we not think ‘the papaya
was fresh and juicy’? Well of course, genuinely so. The trick, would we
like to know? ‘Most definitely!’ Well
its copious amounts of donkey shit! Suddenly, they didn’t taste so flavoursome
but his earnest honesty and quiet gentle humour gained our instant forgiveness.
Such generosity of spirit was to be admired and learned from.Thirty minutes passed under that small tree,
our hands sticky with fruit juices and then the weather closed. The mists drew
in, the drizzle started again; blue skies and warm sun disappeared. It was time
to retreat back downhill. Firm handshakes, smiles, slap on the back. Please, we
should not forget him. Remember our time together at the ‘czech point’.
Well Dom, we
certainly will. You made our day special, a treasured memory. Thank you for the
delicious fruit, the wonderful discussions and the generosity. We departed with
honey, two more freshly picked tangerines and good memories. It was a privilege
meeting you. Thank you for sharing part of your day with us.
The journey
down was less eventful than the route up. We went a different way, not without
its hairpin bends! It comes to something when cyclists overtake you downhill on
hairpin bends. I can’t quite decide whether that is humiliating or a testimony
to my safe, cautious driving!
Tips:
Don't rely completely on your Sat Nav
For car hire we used AutoReisen at the airport and they were outstanding with no hidden surcharges or costs. Make sure before you leave with the hire car that it has two emergency triangles and two fluro jackets.
Petrol stations are closed Sunday's in the island interior
On the twisty roads, locals come around the bends as if they own them; you've been warned!
Roundabouts - if you are British be warned. They drive around roundabouts on the outside lane at all times for any exit; DO NOT go to the inside lane and then pull across for the third exit. You will cause chaos!!
We used the map below and it was outstanding. Very accurate and had all the walking trails marked on. This map was used constantly every day and we didn't find any inaccuracies. It is waterproof and tear proof. An excellent buy.
Collected
promptly at 5pm from our hotel, Jose drove us up the GC503 much to the alarm of
‘Her Indoors’ who had already experienced this road twice before!We stopped off at a restaurant where we were
offered free drinks and an explanation of the night was given. We were on the
AstroGC telescope tour and the aim of the night was to do stargazing using 16”
telescopes and learn something about the night skies. The group size was a
maximum of twelve with two telescopes between them.
Regular
readers of this blog will know I normally refrain from making recommendations
on companies, tours, products etc but not this time. If you visit Gran Canaria,
this tour is worth every euro! Nearly 600 5 star reviews on Trip Advisor can’t
be wrong can they; and frankly, based on our experiences they weren’t. Carmelo
and Jose were outstanding in what proved to be exceptionally difficult
conditions, when thick cloud built and high winds whipped the clouds across the
skies. Despite these challenging circumstances we saw constellations, binary
stars, distant galaxies, shooting stars, passing satellites and the actual
milky way. Having your own personal astronomers on tap to answer questions and
pass on their enthusiasm was just icing on the cake. There were quizzes and
prizes and no I won’t share the answers. Meteorite fragments to observe, after
all Jose has a meteorite collection of some 700 specimens and has collected
them from all over the world.
There were
extra warm clothes available; seating, mint tea and best of all and boy how I
wish I’d had one of these on all my fieldwork trips, a projector screen in the
black of the mini people carrier van and a digital projector attached to the
lift up boot door. Awesome, a brilliant orientation of the night sky lecture so
you could get your eye in.
High above
Mogan, we craned our necks for two hours looking at the stars in the windows
that appeared between thick cloud. Unusual and testing conditions for our
astronomers and they coped and adapted well. I know, I’m a teacher trainer and
assessor. They were brilliant! Both intuitive, they understood their audience’s
needs. They fussed over every comfort, made sure all could see the various
stars through the scopes and answered all questions. Passion and enthusiasm all
night despite the testing conditions.
Laser
pointers helped pinpoint nebulae, distant neighbouring galaxies and
constellations. M54, the binary stars that form the eyes of the swan or Cygnus
constellation; the Orion nebula. The great plough, little plough, the Polaris
star. Cassiopeia.
In the pitch
black with just the twinkly lights from valley villages below, our stargazing
spot was an old undeveloped car park area attached to a closed-up restaurant in
its own grounds. No car lights, no disturbances. Perfect.
You can
really reflect on your place in the universe up there high in the peaks above
Mogan. Far from feeling insignificant, I felt really special. Here we were on a
planet that sustains advanced life forms. Conditions just right at this
particular point in time and space for life to flourish on this planet in this
solar system in this small corner of the Milky Way galaxy. And were there
advanced lifeforms looking at us watching them? Of course there were! I did
wave at them but whether they saw me or not, who knows.
AstroGC have
their own website. They don’t take advanced payment because they are never sure
whether an evening will go ahead or not due to changing weather conditions.
They make this clear on their site. You sign up, they confirm with you and then
they will text you when a viable evening is a goer. Try to give them several
nights, it increases your chances of getting a successful trip. If you don’t
know how to take a good sunset picture with your camera, learn to do so before
you go as they stop off at a point where the sunsets are simply stunning. Take
a camera and tripod and learn how to do some basic star time lapse photos or
videos on the camera. I gave it a go. My very first attempts ever are below along with some tips. I learned the hard way!!
This team have
planning down to a fine art form. You won’t regret it. And by the way, no money
is taken until the tour is going ahead and expect it to be postponed if
conditions aren’t optimal.
My very first attempts ever at time lapse photograph, so go easy on me!!
Tips for sunset and starry sky time lapses using GoPro Hero 5 black
for night time:
1. select night lapse photo mode
2. select shutter speed of 30 seconds
3. continuous shooting node
4. 12 mp
5. spot meter off
6. 3000k white balance selected in protunes
7. ISO 800 selected
8. sharpness set at medium
9. EV - N/A
10. make sure you have something in the foreground that is static; and some distant light source sometimes help
11. shoot for at least a couple of hours to get a really lengthy film clip at end. Don't worry if you have to quickly change batteries just try to set the GoPro back up in its original position.
12. goes without saying - use a tripod!
13. some internet sites recommend 10 sec shutter speed and white balance at 5500K - so experiment!
For sunsets: set to time lapse; photo every 5 seconds; medium view; 12 mp for camera and 30fps if doing video; and try to set your scene remembering the photographic rule of thirds.
The shrill, brain
searing alarm at 0450. The fumble for the light switch in an unfamiliar hotel
room. The phone hitting the floor from the bedside table.
Possessions are
gathered, tickets checked. Cabin bags repacked for the umpteenth time. Passports.
PASSPORTS!! Where did those get left last night? How is there so much? Its only
ten days! What happened to our ‘pack in three’ rules?
Exit the
hotel room, the rumble of luggage wheels across the floor, the quiet hiss of
the closing bedroom and corridor fire doors. Cold damp air hits the face as hotel
foyer doors slide open. A frantic dash across a rain swept carpark; and the
futile attempts to keep luggage and feet out of deepening puddles.
Wipers and raindrops
distort the bright lights of airport buildings. Dimly lit signboards lead to a missed
turning for Long stay and another ‘What
lane am I in circuit of terminal buildings?’ ensues. ‘Will Mr Local moron on my rear tail with his angrily flashing lights
back off?’ Yes, 20 in a 30 limit is irritating. Suck it up! Chill a little!
Drafty bus
shelters with interminable waits that in reality are merely minutes. The hiss
of released brakes. Bendy swaying buses with their numerous stops and voice
announcements about security measures set you down a hundred metres short of
the terminal entrance. Of course they do, after all its raining!
Bright
lights, high ceilings, white marble tiled floors. Space, organisation and
bright signage. A cavern dedicated to air transportation. Departures, floor 2;
grab the lift with a cheery airport worker. Pleasantries exchanged and lift
doors open revealing TUI check-in desks and their long lines of waiting staff
behind the inevitable but necessary snaking cordon corridors. The zig-zag herding
begins, a 70m to the desk which in reality is a mere 10. The clatter of luggage
wheels and giggling lost tourists, who turn against the tide, duck under the
ribbons. Some say that some tourists didn’t appear for several days after
entering one cordoned routeway!
Cheery
greetings, bags thump onto luggage conveyors; passports and tickets returned;
bags disappear into the great labyrinth below.
Departures! Like
the entrance to a very active beehive. Swarming
people guzzle their last remaining water; the ill-prepared binning plastic
bottles and putting liquids into plastic bags. Orange vested customs personnel
direct this humanity into meandering but ordered rows. “Step forward, take a tray”. “Unpack your cabin bag please”. “Laptops
and tablets in separate trays please”. “Come through please”.Magic wand scanners with high pitched bleeps
for the selected few. The rattle of rollers, clatter of deep plastic trays.
Trays are retrieved, humanity moves left to the repacking areas. Belt, shoes,
keys, money, tablets and passports all find their previous homes. Order is
restored.
Departures
and security, a feat of meticulous, well-practised reorganisation and scrutiny.
And then it
hits you. The unavoidable. The blatant, shameless, in your face walk through
the consumerism alley. The big scent brands, racks of glossy lippies; watches, chocolates
in a hundred variations. Alcohol of all brands and types. The sinuous, garishly
lit walkway herds the unwary towards the lure of that ‘bargain’ which in
reality isn’t. But pre-holiday inhibitions are weakened; temptation may prove
too great. The smile of the bronzed, polished, snappily dressed, 20 something
sales assistants as they step in for the kill. Resistance is futile my friend.
You may try but they are practised, they know your weak spot, that little chink
in your armour.
Consumerism.
Encircled by big brands, you are trapped in central seating rows; the brightly
lit, shiny displays tempting those with enforced time on their hands. Airport
departure lounges, the miniature shopping malls, with their high street names,
carefully selected to appeal to the passenger types passing through them.
Upmarket fashion labels to tempt passengers like you and me.
Harrods and
Hamleys, Malones and SK NNY Dip. The popular high street brands: Superdry,
Sunglasses Hut; Dixons, Boots and Accessorize. Ted Baker, Jack Wills, JD
Trainers, North Face. Dixons, FatFace and Cath Kidson. There is no escape. Here
at Gatwick north terminal, the charter end of aviation these brands reflect
peoples holiday needs. Cold weather gear for walking? Beach and evening wear to
chill in? And target audience? Well not the mid 50’s that’s for sure; try the
20 – 30 young, fit bronzed with cash to splash. And of course, those weakening
pre-holiday inhibitions. Did I say ‘resistance
is futile’ my friend?
Handbags,
watches, clothes, rucksacs, cameras, magazines, books, toys, electronics of
every conceivable type and colour. For retailers, a captive clientele, with
nowhere to go, with time to kill and already sliding into holiday mode thus
losing their normal penny pinching savvy. Those discounts look so more
attractive when you are heading out on holiday don’t they? And don’t fret! If
you do fall for the 7’ teddy bear in Harrods livery, Gatwick offer a buy
now-collect when you return service!
The ‘resigned
seat slumpers’; the ‘I need your shoulder’ sleepers; newspaper readers and
music listeners. The strutting urban chic in fashionable threads; the aimless
wanderers in comfy clothes. Non-buying browsers disappoint the eternally
hopeful shop assistants. High speed texters, surreptitious departure board
watchers. The ‘pleased with my bargain’
laden shoppers; coffee drinkers, make up fixers, the ‘I’m late, get out of my way’ boarders. Bleeping carts, bright neon
signs. Thousands of voices, a chattering hum.
This time
last week we were coming to the end of what was our best and most favourite day
on our Gran Canaria trip. The Blue M is a modern, well designed and safe
motorboat with plenty of side deck, a sunbathing foredeck and upper fly deck
that affords excellent views.
being a big kid. I never tire of watching out for dolphin and whales.
Manolo the
owner is a cheerful Gran Canarian and clearly an excellent, experienced
skipper. Born in Puerto Mogan he has spent all this life there and is clearly
well known, well liked and respected based on the number of locals who waved us
off, called out to him or bought their jet skis alongside to trade some banter.
Together with his wife Minerva, they
make an excellent, hospitable, easy going team on board a boat they love and
care for.
Collected promptly
from the hotel at 0915, we arrived in the sleepy, stunning village port of Puerto Mogan 15 minutes later. Welcomed aboard
Blue M, our shoes were deposited in a basket and the rest of the day was spent
in barefoot bliss on scrubbed teak strip decks. With only seven on board, the
day was intimate, allowing you to get to know your fellow guests.
This is my 'I'm so excited' look even though I am sinning and stepping on board a motorboat instead of a yacht or dinghy
The plan for
the day was simple, motor out at a steady 10kts, look for dolphin, porpoise and
whales in the morning; around lunch time anchor in a secluded rocky bay, have a
simple BBQ and do snorkelling across the boulders. Back in port for 15.00 with
the rest of the afternoon at your leisure to wander around picturesque Puerto
Mogan.
As we slowly
motored out of the port, past the refuel bunker and protective breakwater,
anticipation was high. The Blue M has a reputation for finding whales and
dolphin, for environmentally respecting their privacy and for keeping a
sensible distance from the whales. Dolphins on the other hand, well they just
like to play, curious creatures that they are. Any dolphin experience was going
to be up close and personal!
With both Manolo
and Minerva using binoculars to scan port and starboard quarters off the bow it
wasn’t long before a call from Manolo had us on our feet. Well most of us. From
the moment we left port I’d been at the bow or on the flybridge scanning the
waters for life. I’m such a kid!Ahead
off the starboard bow quarter, two dorsal fins slowly broke the mirror calm sea,
gracefully rising in an arc before disappearing below.
Bright whales, mother
and calf.It is a testimony to Manolo’s
skill and environmental sensitivity that he managed to get close but not so
close as to disturb the mother and calf. He also limited the time alongside. Sharing
information with other boats on the water, he moved away to allow another ketch
coming up astern to take its turn 30m off the port side of the whales. Only one
boat went alongside at any one point in time and after a strictly allotted
time, that boat moved away giving the whales time to drift along undisturbed.
This environmental sustainable approach was extremely impressive to watch in
action and speaks volumes about Gran Canarias’s approach to tourism in general.
Motoring out
to sea, its dappled surface ruffled by tiny breezes, we viewed Mt Teide rising
above the clouds on Tenerife, the summit seemingly floating above the clouds. Binoculars
were lifted to the horizon again and the scanning arcs began once more. 20
minutes later and a large pod of dolphin were spotted coming towards the boat.
The quietly
intense excitement on board the Blue M cannot be adequately described in words.
Manolo and Minerva never tire of seeing the pods. And yes, the waters were
clear, deep azure blue; and yes, the dolphin surfed the bow wave; and yes, you
could see them clearly; and yes, they came to us. Such inquisitively playful
creatures. There are insufficient superlatives to describe this encounter and it
surpassed our expectations. Manolo’s only comment, albeit said with a big grin,
was that ‘this was normal’.
With plenty of room for all of us to line the
bow rails, the Atlantic Spotted Dolphin swam alongside, beneath and in front of
the Blue M. Bubble trails, the equivalent of airplane trails in the sky,
steamed behind some dolphin as they twisted and turned beneath the bow. Some
swam sideways, an eye keenly scrutinising us. Do dolphins smile? Based on this
encounter, an emphatic yes. I swear blind some were laughing at us.
20 minutes
later and Manolo called time on our encounter, the pod drifted off to find some
respite and later some new playmates. We turned inshore and headed for a small
indentation in the tall vertical lava cliffs west of Puerto Mogan.
The small
bay was already occupied by two other boats with larger parties on board but in
typical low-key Gran Canaria style, neither proved to be obtrusive. We swam in
clear blue seas, the bay floor littered with large rocky boulders from long ago
collapsed cliffs. Black spiked sea urchins hid in crevices between the boulders
and ribbon fish swam lazily by.
Well what do you know. Those Atlantic currents are so powerful. I went snorkelling in Wembury Bay, south Devon and next thing I know........I'm stepping aboard some boat in Gran Canaria!!
In 8m or so of water, shoals of fish suddenly
appeared from hiding places, attracted by the bread thrown in by Minerva. A
free meal, the water teemed with fish shoals. Most sheltered under the Blue M. Snorkelling
in water with a temperature of 19C or so is such a pleasure. This is a
different Atlantic to the one off Plymouth Sound. Warm, translucently clear and
no wet suits and thermals needed here.
The stony,
bouldery beach lay at the end of a very narrow deep ravine valley. Someone had
built a driftwood bar, long ago abandoned but it gave a wonderful Robinson Crusoe
air to proceedings.
With a tasty
BBQ comprising chicken kebabs, fresh bread rolls and a sumptuously tasty mixed
chipped salad provided by Manolo and Minerva, we all sat on the bow enjoying
the sun. Pure relaxation. Free drinks came from the stern locker cooler as and
when you needed them. Manolo and Minerva took a dip when we were all fed and
plates cleared. Both were clearly water babies!
Back on
board and last to depart the bay, we motored along the stunning volcanic cliffs
with their different coloured bands of ancient lava flows as far as Amados
beach to the east, before turning bow back to port.
Manolo
reversed that boat back into its berth stern first. He had a foot clearance
either side. The fenders didn’t even graze neighbouring boats. Minerva jumped
off the rear bathing platform with a light step and had stern lines tied and
tensioned before you could blink. What slick teamwork. When I complimented
Manolo on his superb boatmanship, I got the toothy grin and a Spanish accented
english retort ‘not my first time eh’?
I recommend
the Blue M without reservation. The professionalism, care, attention to detail
and laid back gentle humour and welcome of Manolo and Minerva made this such a
special day. Thank you goes to our fellow guests, from Italy, The Ukraine, and Ireland for interesting conversation
and good humour all day.
You can
contact Manolo about a voyage on the Blue M via their FaceBook page or trip
advisor reviews.I cannot comment on the
larger tour outfits but this I can say, the Blue M was reasonably priced by
comparison and was worth every single euro. Outside of Arwen my own boat,
probably the best day I have ever had out on the water!
