Atlantic crossing 18.5 - Putting the shoes back on

Grenada - 18/03/18

Of all the amazing, hard, sunny, wet, sweaty, windy days that I enjoyed in the past two Caribbean months, today is the saddest.
Not because I'm leaving: everything has to end, and not all ends are for good. But because today, after three months of bare feet and flip-flops, I wore shoes again...
I'm in Grenada's airport now, with a view over the Caribbean sea. My feet are boiling and my head hurts from brain freeze, thanks to a coffee frappè.

"I blew out my flip flop

Stepped on a pop top
Cut my heel had to cruise on back home
But there's booze in the blender
And soon it will render
That frozen concoction that helps me hang on"

Nights at sea - Atlantic Crossing 18.4

We left El Hierro with the new moon, the first nights were dark, windy and relatively cold. The sky above Cirrus was magical, full of stars. At the beginning of the night we were running to catch up with summer constellations, always too fast for us and fading in the horizon. Then Taurus and Orion would rise in our stern, catch up with us, and show us the way towards the west. The red eye, Aldebaran, was showing the exact heading to Guadeloupe.
In these dark nights, the sea would catch fire. Our wake was alive, full of green light, and the breaking waves were loud, scary, but beautifully green with bioluminescent plankton. On the third night at sea we were even visited by a pod of dolphins, playing around us, only their green shadows visible.
There is no way to convey this with a picture, I'm sorry, but you will know when you will try it. I was skeptical, before leaving, about the beauty and variety of an ocean. I thought it could have even been boring, monotonous. I was very happy to be proven wrong.

"Hai presente la notte del sabato sera? Intendo quella nera, intendo quella nera"

Ain't a sailor anymore - Atlantic crossing 18.3

Le Marin - Martinique 20/01/18

Here I am, 5 days into the new chapter of this Atlantic experience. Le Marin, the harbour where I'm staying now with the new boat on which I'm working, is not really a nice place. An enclosed bay, sheltered from the wind and packed with hundreds of boats of all type.
But the job is interesting, quite different from what I have ever done. Could be monotonous after a while, I guess, but also meditative in a strange way. Less sailing, more sweating, less drinking, more wiping, less helming, more scrubbing.
Yesterday I've had the chance to do a night trip to the other side of the island, together with some people of my age that I met at the bar. Getting out of Le Marin was good, and in Le Vauclin we found a nicer atmosphere, with a nice Caribbean feel, and much more integration between the Creoles and the Europeans.

  "Don't haul on the rope, don't climb up the mast If you see a sailing ship it might be your last Just get your civies ready for another run ashore A sailor ain't a sailor, ain't a sailor anymore" "

Bye Cirrus - Atlantic crossing 18.2

Guadeloupe - 15/01/2018

After a few days of relax in Marie Galante, it is now time to start the next step, a new experience. Yesterday I said farewell to Cirrus and it's crew and I am now in my new floating home.
Soon I'll try to tell you a bit more about the crossing itself. But in the meantime I'll leave you with a song

'e come un monte che hai di faccia
senti che ti spinge ad un altro monte
un'isola, col mare che la abbraccia,
ti chiama un'altra isola di fronte'

Landfall - Atlantic crossing 18.1

10/1/18 St. Louis, Marie-Galante
Land appeared initially only as a flashing light in the cloudy morning horizon, simple and unassuming. And yet, it was the other side of the Ocean!
"What would they do if I made no landfall...Tryin' to make a little sense of it all"

On y va! - Atlantic crossing 17.10

21/12/17 - Islas Canarias

Winter solstice. The sun starts going north again, and finally we go west. Since many people like symbology, this is the best day for departure.
Ahead just a clean liquid sheet. The route is set but fluid, no tracks in front of us, and none will be left behind.

'Well it might be a long time till we raise another glass
You can rest assured that next time we'll have ourselves a laugh'

Che senso ha vivere senza un amico pazzo? - Atlantic crossing 17.9

20/12/17 El Hierro

Don't worry mum, we are doing something that is relatively safe! On the other hand, docked near us in La Restinga there is Therry...he has crossed the Atlantic 21 times by sail, and this time he is doing it sculling!!

'ed il sorriso di chi non sa come o se'