Midnight Sky, Allures 44; Southampton–Benalmádena; May ’25
Friday, May 2nd
It was a special day to fly to Southampton: the birthday of Levi Rein, my fourth grandson. Fortunately, I just managed to see him before departure—via FaceTime, but still.
Apart from some hassle during boarding, the flight went smoothly. At boarding, I was called aside—security had found my life jacket in the checked baggage. They didn’t approve of the gas cylinder. That was a first, after all those years and countless flights.
Even though I explained that it was officially allowed and approved, they wouldn’t budge. They said they’d ask the captain, and he said no. What a jerk! Clearly, he didn’t realize that there were already about a hundred of those cylinders on board, since every life vest under your seat has one.
Anyway, when I later checked on the boat, it turned out they’d left the cylinder in the lifejacket. The one I wasn’t allowed to take was just my spare.
Sunday, May 4th, Southampton, Shamrock Quay Marina
Meeting Pawel was a success. We clicked instantly and prepared the boat together. There were still a few minor tasks to do, and something unexpected popped up.
One of the faucet connections was leaking badly. As soon as we turned on the water pump, it sprayed water everywhere.
That was, of course, a showstopper—you can’t set off without running water. Luckily, the Force4 chandlery was nearby, and we managed to fix it reasonably quickly.
Unfortunately, Pawel had to return to Zurich today. He was supposed to sail the first leg with us. Now it’s just Aleš and me, which wasn’t the original plan. The first leg to A Coruña will be a bit more exhausting. But fortunately, it looks like it’ll all be downwind, which should make it a bit more comfortable.
Tuesday, May 6 – Position: 49:29.604N 004:05.099W
We’ve been underway for 24 hours now, and things are going well. With a NE wind of 15–20 knots, we’re sailing straight downwind with both headsails, averaging 6+ knots SOG right on the rhumb line, just west of Cape Finisterre.
The wind is pretty chilly, but hey—you can’t have everything. Besides, we’re heading further south, so in a few days it should warm up.
Luckily, Aleš managed to get a decent sleeping bag before departure. He had forgotten to bring one, and his first night on board—even in the marina—was freezing.
He only arrived Sunday at 9 PM, and of course everything was closed by then. Fortunately, the next day, we went grocery shopping near a Decathlon that had a good selection.
We departed later that Monday very smoothly. The fuel dock we needed was just a mile further out on the edge of a small marina, so that went effortlessly.
We motored down the river to the Solent, but once we hit the Solent, we unfurled the genoa and later added the staysail—and they’ve stayed up ever since.
Thursday, May 8 – Position: 46:28.255N 007:32.544W
After passing the TSS near Brest, we were finally able to head directly south, which gave us a broader reach. We switched from both headsails to the regular full rig: mainsail and genoa.
The wind held steady at the predicted 15 knots, giving us 8–12 knots apparent wind. With a gentle sea state, it was absolutely ideal sailing, averaging a lovely 6.5 knots SOG.
Of course, stuff still happens… never a dull moment. A rare, higher wave caused the fridge drawer to fly out onto the floor. Nothing broke, thankfully.
That evening, the autopilot suddenly quit. The battery voltage had dropped just below 12V, which wasn’t enough. Starting the engine fixed it immediately.
Later that night, we had an unexpected guest—a lost, exhausted little sparrow flew into the cockpit and tucked itself into a corner, where it spent the entire night. It was still alive in the morning, and just as I was about to grab it some breadcrumbs and water, it suddenly flew off. Bad decision—it’ll never make it back to the mainland from where we are now. Turns out, it hadn’t flown off at all. It had crawled under the step in the cockpit, where we found it days later while cleaning the boat.
Anyway, after that I went to sleep, but Aleš woke me after an hour to reef. The wind hadn’t really changed but had become gustier.
During one gust, the autopilot lost control, and we veered off course. Even steering manually, Aleš could barely regain control. We have two rudders, but they proved too small to handle that kind of gust. Same thing happened later—when another gust hit with one reef in, I was at the helm, the autopilot struggled, and even I couldn’t hold the course. We weren’t completely out of control, but couldn’t keep the course steady.
So, in went the second reef. A smart move in such conditions. With two reefs in the main and one in the genoa, we’re sailing nice and steady—and not much slower than before.
We’re now halfway across the Bay of Biscay. If all goes as it has been, we’ll be near Cape Finisterre by tomorrow afternoon.
Saturday, May 10 – Position: 42:35.1157N 009:29.7196W
We’ve now passed Cape Finisterre—but not without incident. Around 2:00 AM, we were caught off guard by a thunderstorm that suddenly rolled in from the hills above us. Naturally, it brought plenty of rain and quite a bit of wind.
I had just woken up to use the toilet when I saw the first lightning flash. By the time I came out, we were heeling hard and I struggled to get dressed.
Aleš was having a hard time keeping the boat on course. Even with the engine on, he couldn’t steer properly. I’m convinced the rudders are just too small for this boat. Same thing had happened earlier in a gust—I couldn’t keep the boat under control either.
Once dressed, we were hit by a crash gybe—the wind was shifting all over. Thankfully, the preventer held, and nothing broke except the preventer itself, which got slightly bent.
We ended up pointing straight into the wind, and Aleš managed to hold that course, allowing me to drop the mainsail. That made a big difference!
The genoa had gotten wrapped around the forestay during the gybe. It took a struggle—with flailing sheets—to untangle it. Luckily, the squall had mostly passed, and the wind dropped back to 14 knots.
Once the genoa was under control again, we resumed our course. With just the genoa, we were still doing over 5 knots, so we decided to leave it at that for now.
After tidying up all the lines, a quick check revealed that the flagpole at the stern had fallen into the water. That was easily fixed, and I was able to go back to sleep. I still had an hour left, but Aleš let me sleep three. My phone alarm didn’t go off due to the time sync with Spain.
Anyway, now it’s his turn to sleep—no alarm set. For the first time, the weather is grey and rainy—no reason to get up.
Monday, May 12 – Position 39:07.1984N 009:31.3081W
Fortunately, the weather cleared up a bit later in the day, though the wind dropped somewhat. From Saturday evening until Sunday afternoon, we motored.
At 15:15 we arrived in Figueira da Foz. We refueled — it was just under 100L, but light winds are forecast in the coming days, and we may face headwinds in the Strait of Gibraltar. Better to have plenty of fuel on board.
We also managed to do some shopping. It was so quiet we were allowed to stay on the fuel pontoon.
At 16:40 we set off again. The wind had picked up and veered slightly to the northwest, giving us a perfect beam reach towards Peniche.
At over 6 knots SOG, we were there in about six hours.
Now we’re heading for Lisbon. Should take us about 4–5 days.
Due to orca activity, the advice in consultation with IOM is to follow the 20-meter depth contour line from Lagos onward. We’ll stick to that.
Tuesday, May 13 – Lagos Marina
After leaving Figueira da Foz, I figured it would be good to spend a night in a marina. We were both quite tired. Lagos seemed like a good option — I know it well and it’s easy to approach.
It turned into a beautiful evening. I had the 19:00–23:00 watch. Lovely sailing with a nice breeze and (again) a gorgeous sunset.
After Aleš took over and I’d just had an hour of sleep, Lagos suddenly turned from an option into a necessity.
The wind had dropped, so Aleš started the engine. But something wasn’t right — it made a strange noise and wouldn’t engage.
A first inspection revealed quite a bit of oil under the engine, seemingly from the saildrive. There wasn’t much we could do at that moment. Luckily, we had sails, so it wasn’t an immediate emergency.
The sound I’d heard was troubling enough that I didn’t want to try starting the engine again. Lagos it was.
Fortunately, I know Lagos well, including Sopromar — the yard and chandlery I’ve visited many times. Whatever was wrong, they’d be able to fix it.
The weather, the wind, and its direction were in our favor. You don’t want to deal with this in rain and headwinds.
The timing was also perfect. We would arrive early Tuesday morning, not in the middle of the night.
I still had Augusto’s phone number from when we stayed in Lagos with Amanzi.
Around 08:00 I tried calling him — no luck at first, but he called back shortly after. He was in the Netherlands but that didn’t stop him from making a few calls and arranging a tow into the marina.
Our approach and arrival in Lagos were strange. As we sailed into the bay, the wind completely died… 0 knots. Our boatspeed dropped to 0 as well. The only forward motion came from the incoming tide.
After two hours of drifting with the occasional puff, we got close enough to the river mouth that I could let Augusto know they could come pick us up.
It was around 13:00 — lunch break, of course. They said they’d come at 14:00.
In the meantime, the wind returned — in fact, it picked up significantly! That made things a bit tricky. We had already lowered the mainsail and under genoa alone the boat wouldn’t point higher than 60 degrees. With great effort I managed to keep us from drifting further away, slowly inching closer.
When the tow arrived, we were still nearly half a nautical mile from the mouth. With 16 knots of wind right on the nose, it took a lot of effort and time to get us inside. Eventually, all went well, and by 16:00 we were tied up at the marina’s visitors’ pontoon. Sopromar had no room at their dock.
The rest of the day we didn’t do much beyond checking in at the marina and Sopromar. They said someone would come the next morning to assess the damage.
Then it was time for showers, food, and much-needed sleep.
Sunday, May 18 – Lagos, on the hard
Not much has happened these last few days — except for a major change of plans…
Sopromar’s lift was fully booked, so we could only be hauled out on Friday. Meanwhile, it was a pleasant reunion with Lagos, where I had spent several months four years ago. Aleš was here for the first time and enjoyed exploring while I kept an eye on the boat.
Once out of the water, we found a piece of rope in the propeller — but that wasn’t the worst of it. The saildrive seal was leaking. In fact, it had come out. This likely happened during a previous replacement and was worsened by corrosion on the housing.
And this wasn’t minor corrosion — material was missing in several places, making it impossible to simply install a new seal. The housing would have to be replaced…
That would take a few days. It was already Friday, 15:30, so nothing more would happen before the weekend. Hopefully I’ll get a quote and a timeline on Monday, but I suspect we’ll still be on the hard next week.
Aleš had to be back at work on Monday, so he left early Saturday morning.
While I was discussing things with Augusto, suddenly Peter cycled up.
Peter is the owner of Falkor, which used to lie next to Amanzi. His son Seb and I were lockdown buddies.
Peter and his wife Sam now live permanently in a villa about 10km outside Lagos, having also kept their apartment here. I’d even stayed there a few days back then.
It was a lovely reunion. When we had lunch together, Peter invited me to a BBQ they were hosting that Saturday with some friends. I happily accepted — it turned out to be a wonderful and tasty afternoon.
In the meantime, I agreed with Pawel, owner of Midnight Sky, that I would stay on board for the time being. I can do some small tasks while waiting for the repair quote. One option is that he, now in Benalmádena with his family, comes here and we sail the last leg together.
We’ll see how it goes. For now, I’m very grateful for Augusto’s help — his involvement with Sopromar has been and will be invaluable.
Friday, May 23 – Lagos
The past few days have mainly revolved around finding parts for the saildrive.
None were in stock anywhere in Portugal. Pawel, now in Málaga with his family, checked all over there too, even visiting several yards — but in all of Spain, delivery times were at least a few months.
In the end, I found a company in the Netherlands — Mulders Motoren — who, through their network, could order the part with a lead time of just one week. That was manageable.
Unfortunately, this meant I wouldn’t have time to sail the boat to Benalmádena afterward. Pawel decided to come to Lagos so I could introduce him to Sopromar and Augusto.
During the BBQ at Peter’s, he told me he and his wife Sam were sailing to Gran Canaria this Saturday — their first ocean passage.
Unfortunately, he had to return to the UK briefly for a funeral. Ian would arrive Tuesday for the final preparations. Since I wasn’t doing much, I offered to help Ian with whatever he needed. I sent him a message, and we agreed to have breakfast together Wednesday morning.
We hit it off right away. One thing he definitely needed help with: getting the spinnaker into its snuffer.
At some point, it came up that one of the crew members had canceled last-minute. They were now short one person.
Long story short: instead of flying home tomorrow, I’ll be boarding Falkor of London and sailing with them to Gran Canaria.
