The Search for a Transatlantic Crossing! 4th November - 23rd November
Hi Friends!
I arrived in Las Palmas on the 4th November 2023, with little other than a few ‘about me’ business cards, some sailing CVs, and a dream to scout a sailing boat to crew on across the Atlantic. I am now 14 days into by transatlantic voyage, on a Gibsea 44 called Ponyo, with a crew of 7, two of which happen to be under 3 years old! Looking back, what makes me laugh the most is that I never really contemplated not finding a boat, even though it took me well over a month to find the right one. Despite that, I don’t remember feeling much frustration, as every possible boat, new contact, friend, or piece of information, felt like it had a purpose. I new as soon as I arrived in Las Palmas that there was opportunity, whether it be through the Atlantic Rally for Cruisers (ARC), which I will come onto later, or through individual boats crossing from November onwards, of which there appeared to be lots! This mere fact along, reassured me that if I played my cards right, and cosied up to my strengths, I would find something. Then it would just be up to me to figure out if it was the right situation, or whether I was willing to wait, potentially for another boat, or back out of the plan entirely (I have a whole story time on this don’t worry!). I do believe that it wasn’t empty optimism that reassured me I would find something, but precedent. Every year, backpackers and opportunists come down to the docks, and like I said, if you show perseverance, you tend to find something. So, this is the story of how I found myself in Cape Verde!
Upon arriving in Las Palmas, I had booked into a female dorm of 4 in a co-living space less than 10 minutes walk from the marina, at a cost of around 20 euros a night. I though the close proximity would force myself to get straight out there. I guess that mentality proved right as I arrived, dropped my bags, bought some food, put on my ‘professional sailor look’ getup, and headed for the Marina Muelle Deportivo.
It was around 17:30 at that point, and the ARC was packing up for the day. A little info on the ARC… The World Cruising Club (WCC) host rallies and they have two events running out of Las Palmas in November. The ARC+ and the regular ARC. The only difference being that the ARC+ boats go via Cape Verde before bearing towards St Lucia. The first was set to depart on the 5th, and the latter two weeks later on the 19th, which is why I timed my entrance to be the 4th. I would be able witness the ARC+ departure, and use it as a networking event, and then give myself two weeks to find a boat for the ARC. As I descended the steps to the Marina that first day I walked passed two yellow shirt ARC employees. I smiled and walked passed, took about 5 seconds, mentally went ‘come on Phoebe,’ and forced myself to turn around and stop them. Despite their polite willingness to chat, they didn’t offer much that could help me. However, the next day at the ARC+ departure, one of them recognised me and said that I should swing by the office. The media team was interested in my story, and they said there might be work driving their shuttle bus. Result!
That opportunity did not manifest until the following week, where I drove the minibus for 4 hours from 9:30-13:30, Monday-Saturday, for 20 euros per day. It covered my accommodation costs, plus allowed me to legitimise myself in the marina, as I had an ARC shirt on.
I then volunteered myself to help out with various ARC events, like the opening ceremony see below. Plus, I went to a sundowner, which is an evening drinks event, that gave me the opportunity to meet people as well.
I arrived in Las Palmas on the 4th November 2023, with little other than a few ‘about me’ business cards, some sailing CVs, and a dream to scout a sailing boat to crew on across the Atlantic. I am now 14 days into by transatlantic voyage, on a Gibsea 44 called Ponyo, with a crew of 7, two of which happen to be under 3 years old! Looking back, what makes me laugh the most is that I never really contemplated not finding a boat, even though it took me well over a month to find the right one. Despite that, I don’t remember feeling much frustration, as every possible boat, new contact, friend, or piece of information, felt like it had a purpose. I new as soon as I arrived in Las Palmas that there was opportunity, whether it be through the Atlantic Rally for Cruisers (ARC), which I will come onto later, or through individual boats crossing from November onwards, of which there appeared to be lots! This mere fact along, reassured me that if I played my cards right, and cosied up to my strengths, I would find something. Then it would just be up to me to figure out if it was the right situation, or whether I was willing to wait, potentially for another boat, or back out of the plan entirely (I have a whole story time on this don’t worry!). I do believe that it wasn’t empty optimism that reassured me I would find something, but precedent. Every year, backpackers and opportunists come down to the docks, and like I said, if you show perseverance, you tend to find something. So, this is the story of how I found myself in Cape Verde!
Upon arriving in Las Palmas, I had booked into a female dorm of 4 in a co-living space less than 10 minutes walk from the marina, at a cost of around 20 euros a night. I though the close proximity would force myself to get straight out there. I guess that mentality proved right as I arrived, dropped my bags, bought some food, put on my ‘professional sailor look’ getup, and headed for the Marina Muelle Deportivo.
It was around 17:30 at that point, and the ARC was packing up for the day. A little info on the ARC… The World Cruising Club (WCC) host rallies and they have two events running out of Las Palmas in November. The ARC+ and the regular ARC. The only difference being that the ARC+ boats go via Cape Verde before bearing towards St Lucia. The first was set to depart on the 5th, and the latter two weeks later on the 19th, which is why I timed my entrance to be the 4th. I would be able witness the ARC+ departure, and use it as a networking event, and then give myself two weeks to find a boat for the ARC. As I descended the steps to the Marina that first day I walked passed two yellow shirt ARC employees. I smiled and walked passed, took about 5 seconds, mentally went ‘come on Phoebe,’ and forced myself to turn around and stop them. Despite their polite willingness to chat, they didn’t offer much that could help me. However, the next day at the ARC+ departure, one of them recognised me and said that I should swing by the office. The media team was interested in my story, and they said there might be work driving their shuttle bus. Result!
That opportunity did not manifest until the following week, where I drove the minibus for 4 hours from 9:30-13:30, Monday-Saturday, for 20 euros per day. It covered my accommodation costs, plus allowed me to legitimise myself in the marina, as I had an ARC shirt on.
I then volunteered myself to help out with various ARC events, like the opening ceremony see below. Plus, I went to a sundowner, which is an evening drinks event, that gave me the opportunity to meet people as well.
I also was able to interact with all the potential boats, and I drove them from A to B. It kept me very occupied and gave me a routine, and people started recognising me around the marina which felt good. As much as this was a worthwhile experience, I soon realised that the ARC might not be as viable place to find a boat as I had first thought. The rally acts as a safety net, largely for captains and crew who have been thinking about this crossing years in advance. Therefore, most boats are completely sorted, and it would have taken a major life crisis for a crew opening to come up. I only heard of one man finding something, and the only opportunity I had was on an Oyster 565, named Larimar. A group of 7, semi-professional sailors, who were prepping for the Oyster World Rally, were potentially interested in having a female presence on board. The owner though this would ‘keep everyone in check’. I was ghosted from that, and in hindsight, I probably would have spent most of the time in the galley, so not the experience I was looking for. I can appreciate the boat though, take a look, I captured it departing!
In that first week, I had spent a lot of time at the well renowned sailors bay bar in the mornings. I would grab a coffee, put my nose in a book, whilst peeping up to scan for potential boat crews I could make an introduction with. At the time I was reading Robin Knox-Johnston’s biography, which not only was spiriting myself up for the adventure, but also was hopefully presenting myself as an interesting candidate. One of my first introductions I made was to the Sail Racing Academy. They had two charter boats going out on the ARC, and although full for the crossing, they invited me to do some prep work on one of the boats. It meant I had a little purpose before the minibus job, and it was nice to grow a circle of friends at the marina.
Now as much as you could access the marina 24/7, I did occasionally leave the drive through! During the course of three weeks, I stayed at three different hostels, so it felt like I made three groups of friends. At the co-living space, I formed a trio with a lovely Scottish lady, and a young backpacker from Canada. We explored the old town and cathedral, we went surfing together, we went out for karaoke, we hosted a wine night at the hostel, and even attended the PRIDE festival in the south of the island. It was super fun to finish up a morning at the marina, go back, get ready with the girls, and head out. We had found glitter, and PRIDE flags at a local Chinese shop and had great fun gallivanting up and down the isles trying to find other accessories. There were also two young boys who were volunteering there, and they often came with us. When the two girls left, and I moved hostels, I continued to hang out with them, and even popped back to that hostel for dinner one night which was sweet. I felt like I was building my little network across the city. In the second week, I went to a more traditional hostel, with a lot more young people. We were crammed into dorms of 9 people, in triple bunkbeds. The atmosphere was great though, and I became close with a young German girl backpacking the canaries. In a small group, we attempted to go paragliding together, but only a couple went before the wind died. One of the other highlights was getting a group of 4 together to go play paddle tennis, after which we went back, cooked together, and then went out. I actually went back to the first hostel in the second week which caused drama. I was close to the owner at that point, but they had heard that my previous stay had a bad case of bedbugs and so they basically sterilised me on return, washing all my clothes, and lending me clothes to wear after a shower whilst mine dried. I wasn’t complaining, a free clothes wash, I’ll take it!
Obviously, I didn’t want to get too distracted from the main goal at the marina, but sometimes the days can be a bit disparaging, so I thought it was important to have a rounded experience, or that was what I told myself anyways…!
I brought my lovely German friend along for the ARC departure. Obviously it was bitter sweet, as I had not found a boat by that point, but there was music playing, and a big crowd, and it was hard not to be cheery and wave each boat off as they flocked by. Plus, I then knew a lot of the boats heading out, so I was genuinely happy to see them off.
I decided to develop a more desperate style strategy post-Arc departure, in that I stuck up my business cards around the marina (see below), and then decided to develop a larger poster with more of my story attached. (See below).
I actually created the article the morning I first chatted to the captain of the boat I then decided to cross down to Cape Verde with, so it didn’t turn out to be a necessary intervention. However, it was still fun to do, and I often think about my posters, decrepit and falling off, caught up in the wind, a lost archive of my time 2023 transatlantic campaign! Particularly the one I stuck in the laundry room, that place was epic, a real time capsule of the waves of backpackers who have passed through the marina over the years (check it out below).
I found my Cape Verde transit in the Sailor’s Bar! I saw an older man observing and taking photos of the crew board, and new this was an opportunity to introduce myself. He smirked, and asked me some random questions, and then joked that what he really needed was a solar panel for his boat. I offered to ring up my local sailing contact, who knew the area well, and immediately gave us two listings. He seemed impressed, told me he already had a middle-aged Japanese man as a crew but was interested in me, and suggested we meet later after he’d found the panel. That is what happened. I spent the afternoon with an English backpacker, putting up our posters and speculating what would happen if this opportunity for me came through, until he rang and we met at the chandlery. He then showed me the boat, a Neel 43 (trimaran). I asked my questions, and helped hoist the Genoa and furl it. To be honest, it was all a bit chaotic. He wanted to leave the next morning, and said he would ring me later that night. I rang a couple he had given me as a reference who had sailed with him from Lanzarote. Although they were positive about his character, they said that the experience was a little chaotic. The captain was a major optimist, who was prepared to overlook minor issues, that they felt were unsafe. Therefore, they chose not to continue with him across the Atlantic. They also said they got very seasick, so it had been quite an uncomfortable journey. The chaotic factor was a little bit of a red flag, and therefore I didn’t feel comfortable committing to the Atlantic without at least sailing with him in advance. Anyway, he rang me up that evening and vocalised that although he liked my energy, he feared I was going to be a jittery sailor, as I asked him so many questions… I felt this was a little unfair, as the ask was that I committed to sailing with him for two weeks (with no chance of getting off!) with less than 24hr warning. So I felt a little inquisition was necessary! I brushed it off, and a day went by, and then I got another call in the evening. They had been delayed and were waiting to get fuel, so were going to leave the following morning and would I come? The deciding factor for me was that they had switched to go via Cape Verde. I slept on it, but in the morning my instincts were saying go. So I packed up by stuff, hopped in a taxi, and within 40 minutes of agreeing I was jumping onto the trimaran and we were off, quite literally, as they flew by the marina from anchor to pick me up.
Now, whether it was wise to be that last minute is another story, but sometimes you have to take a little risk, and it did feel rather thrilling at the time - my adventure had finally begun.
Until next time,
Phoebe
p.s. sorry for the picture formatting on this blog, I can't figure out how to fix it, and I had a short amount of time on the wifi at the time!
In that first week, I had spent a lot of time at the well renowned sailors bay bar in the mornings. I would grab a coffee, put my nose in a book, whilst peeping up to scan for potential boat crews I could make an introduction with. At the time I was reading Robin Knox-Johnston’s biography, which not only was spiriting myself up for the adventure, but also was hopefully presenting myself as an interesting candidate. One of my first introductions I made was to the Sail Racing Academy. They had two charter boats going out on the ARC, and although full for the crossing, they invited me to do some prep work on one of the boats. It meant I had a little purpose before the minibus job, and it was nice to grow a circle of friends at the marina.
Now as much as you could access the marina 24/7, I did occasionally leave the drive through! During the course of three weeks, I stayed at three different hostels, so it felt like I made three groups of friends. At the co-living space, I formed a trio with a lovely Scottish lady, and a young backpacker from Canada. We explored the old town and cathedral, we went surfing together, we went out for karaoke, we hosted a wine night at the hostel, and even attended the PRIDE festival in the south of the island. It was super fun to finish up a morning at the marina, go back, get ready with the girls, and head out. We had found glitter, and PRIDE flags at a local Chinese shop and had great fun gallivanting up and down the isles trying to find other accessories. There were also two young boys who were volunteering there, and they often came with us. When the two girls left, and I moved hostels, I continued to hang out with them, and even popped back to that hostel for dinner one night which was sweet. I felt like I was building my little network across the city. In the second week, I went to a more traditional hostel, with a lot more young people. We were crammed into dorms of 9 people, in triple bunkbeds. The atmosphere was great though, and I became close with a young German girl backpacking the canaries. In a small group, we attempted to go paragliding together, but only a couple went before the wind died. One of the other highlights was getting a group of 4 together to go play paddle tennis, after which we went back, cooked together, and then went out. I actually went back to the first hostel in the second week which caused drama. I was close to the owner at that point, but they had heard that my previous stay had a bad case of bedbugs and so they basically sterilised me on return, washing all my clothes, and lending me clothes to wear after a shower whilst mine dried. I wasn’t complaining, a free clothes wash, I’ll take it!
Obviously, I didn’t want to get too distracted from the main goal at the marina, but sometimes the days can be a bit disparaging, so I thought it was important to have a rounded experience, or that was what I told myself anyways…!
I brought my lovely German friend along for the ARC departure. Obviously it was bitter sweet, as I had not found a boat by that point, but there was music playing, and a big crowd, and it was hard not to be cheery and wave each boat off as they flocked by. Plus, I then knew a lot of the boats heading out, so I was genuinely happy to see them off.
I decided to develop a more desperate style strategy post-Arc departure, in that I stuck up my business cards around the marina (see below), and then decided to develop a larger poster with more of my story attached. (See below).
I actually created the article the morning I first chatted to the captain of the boat I then decided to cross down to Cape Verde with, so it didn’t turn out to be a necessary intervention. However, it was still fun to do, and I often think about my posters, decrepit and falling off, caught up in the wind, a lost archive of my time 2023 transatlantic campaign! Particularly the one I stuck in the laundry room, that place was epic, a real time capsule of the waves of backpackers who have passed through the marina over the years (check it out below).
I found my Cape Verde transit in the Sailor’s Bar! I saw an older man observing and taking photos of the crew board, and new this was an opportunity to introduce myself. He smirked, and asked me some random questions, and then joked that what he really needed was a solar panel for his boat. I offered to ring up my local sailing contact, who knew the area well, and immediately gave us two listings. He seemed impressed, told me he already had a middle-aged Japanese man as a crew but was interested in me, and suggested we meet later after he’d found the panel. That is what happened. I spent the afternoon with an English backpacker, putting up our posters and speculating what would happen if this opportunity for me came through, until he rang and we met at the chandlery. He then showed me the boat, a Neel 43 (trimaran). I asked my questions, and helped hoist the Genoa and furl it. To be honest, it was all a bit chaotic. He wanted to leave the next morning, and said he would ring me later that night. I rang a couple he had given me as a reference who had sailed with him from Lanzarote. Although they were positive about his character, they said that the experience was a little chaotic. The captain was a major optimist, who was prepared to overlook minor issues, that they felt were unsafe. Therefore, they chose not to continue with him across the Atlantic. They also said they got very seasick, so it had been quite an uncomfortable journey. The chaotic factor was a little bit of a red flag, and therefore I didn’t feel comfortable committing to the Atlantic without at least sailing with him in advance. Anyway, he rang me up that evening and vocalised that although he liked my energy, he feared I was going to be a jittery sailor, as I asked him so many questions… I felt this was a little unfair, as the ask was that I committed to sailing with him for two weeks (with no chance of getting off!) with less than 24hr warning. So I felt a little inquisition was necessary! I brushed it off, and a day went by, and then I got another call in the evening. They had been delayed and were waiting to get fuel, so were going to leave the following morning and would I come? The deciding factor for me was that they had switched to go via Cape Verde. I slept on it, but in the morning my instincts were saying go. So I packed up by stuff, hopped in a taxi, and within 40 minutes of agreeing I was jumping onto the trimaran and we were off, quite literally, as they flew by the marina from anchor to pick me up.
Now, whether it was wise to be that last minute is another story, but sometimes you have to take a little risk, and it did feel rather thrilling at the time - my adventure had finally begun.
Until next time,
Phoebe
p.s. sorry for the picture formatting on this blog, I can't figure out how to fix it, and I had a short amount of time on the wifi at the time!
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