Rainy Correlejo

After a few nights at Marina Rubicon, on the southern coast of Lanzarote, we made our way over the 6 mile channel to Correlejo, which is on the northern tip of Fuerteventura. We’d booked a berth, but weren’t entirely sure if our booking had gone through (it hadn’t, as it turned out). This marina- more of a harbour with pontoons, really- was notorious for having no space for visitors available, so we were hoping our luck would hold out and we’d find a space.

The sail over to Correlejo was beautiful. It was warm and sunny with 10 knots on the beam, so we put the sails up, turned the engine off and enjoyed an hour of blissful, calm sailing. As I said to Nick, if the Atlantic crossing is like this, we’re laughing (right, knock on wood for me please!).

As we approached the port of Correlejo, we started keeping very close tabs on sailing boats coming in and out, keeping our fingers crossed that there will be a space for us. There was no reception pontoon, and nobody answering on the VHF, so we just did what the pilot book said and circled around trying to find a space. A man on one of the tourists boats shouted to us which one the visitor’s pontoon was, and we saw a slightly smaller yacht making their way in to the second-to-last berth. Needless to say, we took the last.

Mooring up was straightforward, but when Nick went to the office to do the paperwork, they told us that they hadn’t received our booking (of course they hadn’t!) and we could stay for two nights. Nick asked for four. They settled on three. So, we’re being kicked out tomorrow.

We went for a walk around Correlejo and made a few inquiries into doing kite surfing lessons. Why, you ask? Well, because Nick’s bought himself a kite board! Whilst casually chatting to one of our neighbours in Marina Rubicon, Nick spotted a kite board on their deck.

“Hey! Is that a kite board? I used to kite board back in the day. You enjoy it?”

“I have no idea whether I enjoy it or not; I’ve never used it. I’m more a windsurfing guy, but my brother-in-law sold me his kite surfing kit before we left, and it’s pretty much just sat there ever since.”

“You have kites for it? A harness?”

“Sure, it’s in the locker.”

“Taking up space!” (This from his wife)

“How much did you pay for it?”

“£300”

(Apparently this is a bargain??)

“You, uh, looking to sell it by any chance?”

Husband and wife in unison: “YES!”

Me: “WHAT?”

Nick: “How much?”

Me: “Hang on, let’s talk-”

David: “£300. I just want my money back on it.”

Me: “Shall we just think about th-”

Nick: “Deal.”

So now we have a board, two kites and no harness because the bro-in-law kept that for some reason. Thus, kite surfing lessons.

Anyway, we decided that lessons were pretty damn expensive and time consuming, so we’re procrastinating on that one, knowing we’ll probably regret not just paying up and doing it when we have the chance. But hey, if YouTube can teach me how to do yoga, make swiss meringue buttercream and curl my hair, surely it can teach me how to kite surf? Right?

So, Correlejo. It’s quite different to the towns we went to in Lanzarote. There’s a chilled, surfy vibe here, which is quite cool. Lots of hole-in-the-wall type of bars, and plenty of surf shops. It’s a shame that we’re being kicked out of the marina.

 

Definitely Time To Go…

Or is it? Actually, I think we’re ready to leave. This berth is just not treating us well. I blame the weather also. It’s been bloody awful. Apparently this time last year it was 35 degrees. Today it is 27 (okay, that part it good), but the rain has been absolutely torrential. It started Thursday night, the night we arrived. We were sitting inside watching Game of Thrones and the boat gradually started rocking around more and more with the swell and wind. Then it started raining, so we closed the hatches. Then, we could feel the boat bumping up against something off the stern- sure enough, our hydrovane rudder stock was banging up against the pontoon, as we were moored stern-to. Nick and I rushed out to try and move the boat, which is when the heavens opened and it absolutely bucketed down. Within seconds, we were both drenched. The sea was choppy, causing the boat to buck around like a skittish colt, and as soon as Nick loosened the lines to bring the boat forward, the wind pushed it off the pontoon. He couldn’t hold it alone, and I was the only thing keeping the hydrovane from being dashed up against the pontoon (thankfully we took the rudder off a week or so ago!), so the only option was to get help.

I knocked on the boat next door, and the lovely dutch woman who skippers it poked her head out. “Please, do you mind coming to help us? So sorry!” Without waiting for an answer, I ran back to the boat. Thankfully she followed, bless her heart, and she held the stern off while Nick and I tightened her lines. It only took a minute or so once we had that extra pair of hands, but she was completely soaked and didn’t hang around to chat.

We gladly jumped back on board and dried off, but the work had only just begun. All the little hatches we always keep open had let rain through, flooding random spaces on the boat which we had to clean up. Our bed had gotten wet also, so I got the hairdryer out and dried it off. Then, I got the bread maker out and put it on for our selfless neighbour, wanting to say thank you with a fresh loaf of bread in the morning (yeah, I was feeling pretty guilty!). But then, just as I turned it on, the power went off. Two days later, it’s still off, and won’t come back on til Monday.

The next day was a miserable one. It rained and rained and rained. We had no power, so couldn’t just bum around watching television. Generating power wasn’t proving very successful. As Nick eloquently put it, “This green energy shit is all very well and good, but if there’s no sun, no wind, and you’re not moving, it’s fucking useless.” Well said.

So, today dawned slightly less horrendous, and although it’s been raining on and off, there’s also been sunshine in between showers. And the reason why we’re being kicked out tomorrow has become clear: there’s a rally coming through. We helped a boat in to the berth next door and up walked none other than Jimmy Cornell! Okay, those who aren’t part of the sailing world will have no idea what I’m talking about, but basically anyone doing long-term cruising will have at least one of his books. His books are like our bibles. We have all of them, and they’re invaluable. So, Nick was standing topless in the rain, having just adjusted our lines to accommodate the boat next door, and I thought he was just allowing me the opportunity to admire his fine physique in the gentle rain, but no, he was simply star-struck. I would have played it cool, and been like, I’m sorry, Jimmy who? But Nick’s far more forward than me, and he jumped forward, and said, “Are you Jimmy Cornell? I’m Nick! Can you sign one of our books?” He said yes, but later because he was not only soaking wet, but in the middle of organising his rally, so we shall see!

I do believe that brings you up to date. Laura’s arriving tonight, and we’ll be sending her to bed early so we can get up with the sun tomorrow and get the hell outta here. Correlejo is lovely. The marina- not so much. We’ll make our way down the coast to Gran Tarajal marina and hope it’s a little more protected from the swell.