S2.19 - Gibraltar to Canary Islands: From Chaos to Calm

Oct 2-3: Act I – The First Attempt

The Lucky Enough Atlantic Crossing Crew thought we were ready for our longest journey yet ~620nm…. It is a known fact that: “Picking a day and time with the right amount of wind, in the right direction and the right tidal stream is crucial for a smooth passage.”

The last lines and blocks we waited for all day were finally in hand, spare parts carefully stowed, and Ryan (pilot at heart) satisfied with our redundancy checklist and spare parts. But adventure has a way of humbling you.

We fueled on the British side of Gibraltar, (including our 14 jerry cans of spare fuel), and—because of priorities—picked up duty-free gin, beer, and ice cream.

Spirits were high until the Code D turned into our nemesis. Improperly furled at the dock, it caught the wind (which was higher than expected), and chaos followed: torn sail, bent life rail, tangled sheets, rope burned hands, a near decapitation (Yes, you read right - you can ask us about that story over a glass of wine or two the next time you see us 🙀), and bruised egos.

Limping back to the marina, we debriefed, regrouped, and ended the evening with a family card game of Casino. A sailmaker patched us up by the next day for only €150, while Privilege Marine advised postponing the life-rail repair until Lanzarote.

Oct 4-6: Act II – A Proper Departure

Rested and wiser, we departed Gibraltar again on the 4th under calmer conditions.

By mid-morning we were ‘officially’ in Morgan Waters.

By 12:30pm orca sightings were on our minds as we entered their known path in the Gulf of Cadiz. The rippling waves teased us with phantom shapes that looked like their black and white bodies breaching the surface.

By 3:30pm, we were turning the corner at Tanger,

Still looking out for orcas. Luckily, none appeared.

The next one and a half days brought little wind, so we motored, but excitement returned when we landed fish for tacos, but not without trial and error… and a few laughs.

Lucky Enough Crew Works Hard for Their Dinner 🐠

We also witnessed a massive pod of dolphins, and spotted humpback whales. What a day… and it wasn’t even 2:30pm yet!

Then 34 hours into our journey came the highlight: hoisting the Parasailor—smoothly this time! With the sail still being new to us, 6 hour shifts were paired by Captain and crew (Ryan & Faye / Byron & Roa), balancing safety with rest.

She flew for 26 hours straight, proving her worth as our downwind passage companion.

Literally “Sailing” to Christopher Cross

3:00am - Oct 6th, we were passing Morocco.

And monitoring our 2M swells…

…coming from a distant hurricane near the UK which was showing 14 meter swells😱🙀.

By 10:00am, the wind had completely deserted us, and with our speed sinking below 1 knot, we doused the sails and reluctantly brought the engines to life.

Oct 7-8: Settling into the Passage

They say it takes 3-4 days for your body to adjust to the rhythm of passage-making, which is so true. As I began my 3am watch, I was surprised at the amounts of ship traffic surrounding us. At least I didn’t have wind speed and direction to also worry about when the sails are up.

Two things we could count on, were the glorious sunrises and twinkling night stars.

By the early hours of Oct 8, city lights of Lanzarote welcomed us. Plankton glowed in our wake, and our exhaustion lifted at the sight of land.

Arriving at Lanzarote, Spain (One of the Canary Islands)

After fueling at Marina Rubicón, we docked in the ‘overflow parking’ as the marina was booked with boats staging for the Atlantic Rally Crossing (ARC) due to set out on November 10th. Though we were not joining officially, we planned to sail in parallel with (or just ahead of) the fleet for safety in numbers.

As always.. it was time to have an ‘anchor beer’. However, as I opened the fridge door, I quickly realized it was no longer working reminding us that boats never stop demanding attention. One more thing to get fixed!

We still celebrated our 96 hour - 33 min, 621.9 NM passage at an average speed of 6.4 knots at the infamous “Sailors Bar” with grub and beers.