extremely cheap! The marina "district" here is a mile outside of Puerto La Cruz proper, and consists of miles and miles of canal waterways past marinas, condos, large mansions, resorts and shopping areas. We have been here a few days and have already participated in a marina BBQ, birthday party,

boat decorating contest (no, we vote; don't decorate), and a 14-dinghy night-time convoy through the canals looking at Christmas lights. Although this is a very social place, similar to Chaguaramas, Trinidad, we have so met lots of new cruisers, as well as renewing old friendships.

Bermuda to the Azores

- Scott and Kitty Kuhner

Our friends, Don and Priscilla, on Chautauqua were with us when we went to check out at the Bermuda Customs office on Saturday, June 21st. They had intended to check out with us and leave that day also. However, Priscilla hadn't been feeling great and when the weather forecaster predicted 25 to 30 kts. Ahead of the approaching front, they decided to wait a couple of days until the front passed and she felt better. Kitty and I looked at each other thinking maybe we should do the same. This was going to be an 1,800 mile trip and we didn't feel like starting out on the wrong foot. Besides, like everyone else who was about to leave for the Azores, we were a bit nervous; even though we had made many such long voyages in our sailing career.
Kitty and I got back into the dinghy, motored back to TAMURE, put the dinghy engine on its bracket on the stern rail and pulled the dinghy on deck. We

looked at each other and one word from the other would have resulted in us staying as well. Neither of us said anything. I started the main engine and went forward to pull up the anchor. Kitty though she heard a noise coming from the engine room. I rushed back into the cockpit only to ascertain that it was one of the steps in the companionway that was vibrating.
Sunday, June 22 -- By 2 pm, we

had gone 154 miles and had only 1,659 miles to go to Horta in the Azores. At 4:30 pm, we checked in with Herb Hilgenberg, better known as South Bound II. Herb sits in his home somewhere in Ontario and every day at 1930 GMT, most of the sailing yachts in the north Atlantic check in with him and he then proceeds to give each one their local conditions and forecast. He told us that we were still ahead of the

front, but it would catch us in a day or two. Then he said something that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up, "I see a developing low that may turn into a gale at 33 N 64 W on Wednesday and track east". Our position at that time was 32.21 N and 61.41 W. We would be right in front of the developing gale. That forecast resulted in another night of fit-full sleeping. On our radio schedule with Chautauqua and two other boats, DAKARI and SHADOW FAX. Chautauqua said that after listening to Herb, they were glad they had stayed in Bermuda. In a few days, they wouldn.t feel so good about it.
Monday, June 23rd -- The winds had moderated during the day and backed a little. By mid-afternoon, it was blowing 13 kts out of the south and because there were squalls on the horizon, we were still sailing with a reefed main, a working jib and staysail and making over six knots. By the time we checked in with Herb that afternoon, we had done 302 miles with only 1,516 miles to go. The seas were still big enough to make it very uncomfortable down below. This was not going to be the beautiful downwind tradewind sailing that Kitty and I loved so much on our two circumnavigations. Over 1,500 miles to go! Could I last that long? I certainly hadn't gotten my sea legs yet. Whether Kitty had gotten her sea legs or not, she still cooked a great dinner of beef stew, apple sauce and potatoes; and she didn't complain one bit! Our understanding had been that she would cook the dinner and I would do the dishes. However, after dinner Kitty got up and did the dishes, saying that after all I had been messing with the sails. Oh sure! Putting the furling line on the winch and rolling in a little jib was just as hard as cooking dinner in a galley that was moving violently from side to side. She is a saint!
Tuesday, June 24th -- By 7am, we were down to our third reef as the wind was back up to 20 kts, gusting to 25. At 0930, we had our third squall of the day and it screamed through at 30 kts. We now had only the triple reefed main, a small bit of jib rolled out and our staysail halfway rolled in. The rain was too cold to take a shower in it, even though it had been hot and I was beginning to smell. Down below, I was trying to get a quick nap, but couldn't because of some loud groan every time the boat rolled. A half hour later, I found the source of the groan - the line I had holding the spare headstay back against the lower shrouds was loose, allowing the end fitting of the hayfield tension lever to grind against the pad eye it was secured to. While getting an occasional dousing from waves slapping against the side of the

boat, I secured the spare headstay. Back in my bunk, I thought to myself, right about now I wish we had gone to Maine for the summer and then back to the Bahamas for the winter. I said to myself, "How much more of this can we take?" And we still had almost two more weeks to go to Horta. At least Herb told us that night that the winds would ease up the next day, but...would go back

to 25 to 30 on Thursday -- and then moderate again on Friday.
The violent motion of the boat since we had left reminded me of the time we were sailing with our two boys, Alex and Spencer, in the late eighties. Alex had written a letter back to his class trying to describe what it was like being at sea for the 20 day passage from the Galapagos to the Marquesas.