can we help
+44(0)1983 296060
+1 757-788-8872
tell me moreJoin a rally

Menu

Webster - This blog's full of Bull.......



Sunday 1st June 2014 Horta to Angra, Tereira 70nm

Boy, did we wake up with a headache this morning! I must have been drinking out of a wet or dirty glass I think, and must have eaten something disagreeable too I have no doubt. Whatever, I felt like death warmed up, but I suspect feeling much better than my crew who remained a mess. Still, we had to get this boat out of the marina in one piece, which we achieved at the unearthly hour of 0700 without too much trouble even though it was tight. I pointed the boat at Terceira, put on the auto pilot, told Igor and Neal they were on first watch and jumped back into bed, followed swiftly by Dave (not into my bunk you understand but his own), who assumed he was on my watch, and awoke again at 1100. Feeling not a little guilty I went on deck into glorious sunshine and took over although the engine and auto pilot were the only ones doing anything. Neal and Igor then disappeared below until mid afternoon, and even then we had to forcibly wake Igor for some lunch.

The sea was flatter than a flat thing and so saw loads of dolphin, a basking shark or two and whales initially on the horizon spouting forth, then much, much closer, like next door! They really are huge, and in need of a good dentist as their breath smells a bit fishy.

Talking of fish, we entered the fishing competition with much enthusiasm, putting not one but two lines out and towed them most of the way across. Needless to say we caught absolutely nothing excepting that I thought for one minute I had a bite and in my excitement got my line wrapped around the wind generator and during the ten minutes or so untangling of line, whatever it was, indeed if it was anything at all, had long gone. However, I am claiming it as a thirty five pound tuna, "the one that got away". I heard that Bonnie Lass had caught a 75lb tuna, which we thought was a joke on VHF but not so, they had. There are fish out there then. The nearest I am going to be to catching a fish is finding the fish mongers ashore and asking him to throw me one, just so I can say I 'caught it'!

We arrived in Angra do Heroisamo marina at about 1730, and tied up on a finger pontoon with as many ropes as we could find as we were surging all over the place. It is a very pretty marina but allows a large swell through its entrance which makes you roll and snatch against lines alarmingly.

Angra is a lovely little town, Portugal's first city or something like that; I fell asleep during the tour. We found that the beer in the pub at the top of the hill we fell into during the walking tour was 20 cents cheaper than down in the town centre. We calculated that to spend 10 euros on a taxi to get there rather than walk we would need to have 50 beers between the four of us to break even and should we choose to drink that much and need a taxi back again, then over 100 would be necessary. Good job we don't have the time here to try it out!

Which leads us to Bull Running. The people of Terceira for some unknown reason like to open their streets over a period of four months to rampaging bulls. These are not your run of the mill, docile bulls you may find in an English meadow chewing a buttercup, these are mean, especially bred bulls which have been goaded somewhat and fired up into a frenzy. Oh yes, then naturally they tie a very long rope around their necks and have four hefty fellows hang on to the end of it, about as effective as a chocolate tea pot. Oh, and the point is? Yes, people jump into said street and wave their arms around and attract the bull's attention which is not too difficult and it chases them down the road dragging said hefty fellows with it. Having vented its anger the bull having smashed walls down and anything else in its way is returned to its pen and a maroon goes off to say the coast is clear. Ten minutes later they bring out a bigger, meaner one more revved than the first and it all happens again.

Needless to say, Igor and I decided we wanted to find out why anyone would put themselves into the line of these raging animals, and jumped down into the street whilst the Treacle Miners found the highest wall to stand behind. I just so happened to be wearing bright red shorts which was like waving a red rag to a bull, literally in this case!! When the bull is walking or charging away from you one tends to run after it; when it turns and looks, you stop and plan your escape route; when it charges you leg it for all you are worth and the reason people do this becomes apparent there and then - its called 'Brown Adrenalin'!!

The idea clearly is to avoid the bull 'cause if you don't you are asking for big trouble, which does not really need stating for any sane reader. Why then did Gary Clements from Arcarios stand there when all around were on their toes, taking photos and thinking, I'm alright if I stand here like a statue? Said bull took particular interest in Gary who got a couple of shots off as the bull lifted him eighteen feet into the air and was awaiting him returning to Earth for another go when the matador types attracted its attention and moved it away. What a mess, blood everywhere and those that saw the incident close up were fearful of him being more than seriously hurt. But not Gary, he hit the ground and managed a couple more shots of the bull running away! Good man, and lives to fight bulls another day, if Marion lets him.

That's enough excitement for one island, next up is San Miguel where we are due to go ten pin bowling......not quite the same ring to it. Unless they let me bowl overarm maybe?

Hi Hooooo!

Charlie

Previous | Next