Anchor Angst – Arrival in Las Palmas

Leaving Lanzarote around noon we sail along the coast of Fuerteventura with wind behind us, like always much more than the forecast had pro missed. It is nice and quiet but the swell’s up! The boat rolls from side to side inbetween long atlantic waves. Great conditions for surfing but definetly not for sitting, or better “tumbling around” in a floating vessel!

So I feed the fish a couple times and try to pre-sleep. The only thought of surfiving the upcoming night shift is circling on my mind.

A dark night turns into a sea of light -coming to sight at the horizon the harbour glows bright – almost finished this fight I feel just tired!


Several container ships cross our way while heading towards the marina of Las Palmas. Passing oil platforms and  gigantic cruise ships, we enter between the breakwaters before the sun rose completely. Calling the office on the radio – no response. Turning for the waiting pier we dont believe what we see.

The marina is packed! Full of boats, there is not one little bit of space for us, anywhere! This is the one stop where every ocean crosser to fills up provision, water, fuel and gets last repairs done before jaywalking the big pond.

So we decide to anchor outside, in the bay between the stone moles going out from the long sandy beach. Slaloming around many other sailing vessels we find an open spot. The anchor goes down – first time. It doesn’t grap! I pull it back up, try it again and again closer to the beach.

“Oh please let it hold, let us finally get some sleep!”

It seems to stay in place. The chart plotter shows that we are still dragging away from the point where we dropped the anchor, but very slowly, at least. There is not much we can do about it. Setting alarms to check our position every two hours, we snooze the night away.

A romantic picture of laying snugly anchored in a beautiful bay crumbles up behind our eyes as the wind beginns to blow stronger and stronger the next day. Terry stays on the boat while we row the dinghy ashore to get fresh food from the Spar – supermarket. As it gets dark, the wind picks up even more. It turns to a direction which lets the boat bounce up and down a few feet from the rocks.

Our alarms are set again and we follow Terrys trust in the anchor which luckyly has not moved all day. Half awake, I lay in our berch. Trying to stay cool, I catch my thoughts again and again packing my seapack with the most important travel stuff which is spread all over the boat.

Suddenly the anchor breaks loose, it draggs over the sand, unknowingly we drift further and further, only a couple meters and the hull cracks on the rocks! Water streams inside. Wave after wave pushes the boat onto the mole. All I can see, is my empty body running around whilst numbed neurons inside my head stand still.

“…in the morning light”, a melody comes to my ear, “I put on my jeans and I feel aalright”

I open my eyes and see a phone blinking and playing my alarm sound to wake me up. Sitting up straight like our mast in the bed, I look through the bull’s eye at the rocks a fair distance away

Puhh – just a bad dream!

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