A few days ago we departed Horta, bound for Sao Jorge, a mere 21 miles away. Sadly, the wind was not cooperative and making that “mere” 21 miles felt like 40. We had to tack and sail hard on the wind for the entire way, making for an unpleasant day.
And here we are a few days later and that run felt good compared to the rolling anchorage that we were in for the first few says. Most of these tiny harbors are nothing more than a breakwater with an even smaller marina behind yet another breakwater.
We were told that most of the time these marinas, as small as they are, can accommodate the limited number of cruising boats that head there way. However, with all of the festivals that happen in June traffic was busier than normal and all the slips were filled.
The wind has been light but from a variety of directions and for a good amount of time, blowing into the mouth of the harbor. As a result, for several days we were rolling all night long, a full 20 degrees, ten degrees in each direction. This is enough to cause things to bang around in the cabinets and for dishes to slide across the counters. Fortunately, for the last two days, it’s been much nicer and today, our last day, it’s flat calm.
Our friend Bill on Kalunamoo has a “scale” to measure rolling that goes from 0-7 and I would say that conditions were a solid 6.
In a tiny harbor it is often tough to drop the anchor with enough room to avoid banging into another boat, especially when the depth is 40′ or more as so much scope is needed. On our first night, as the wind died, but not the waves, and a light breeze swung us around, we “T boned” another boat, banging into her on a 90 degree angle. The sound was deafening and woke us to the call of “Pandora, Pandora” from our unlucky neighbor.
We shortened up our scope, anchor chain, and pulled away a bit. The next morning I stopped by to check to see what sort of damage we had caused and fortunately it was a very minor scratch on their rubrail. Fortunately, their rail was at the exact height of our bow sprit. Lucky us. No harm done.
Fortunately for me, Brenda loves the island so much that rolling or not, we are happy to be here and a few days ago we rented a car to tour the island and see the sights.
Everyone has told us that each island has its one characteristics which I see now that we are visiting the third island.
For sure, Horta is the most cosmopolitan when compared to Pico and Sao Jorge and as witnessed by a few rolly days, Horta has the only decent harbor. Sao Jorge is largely an agrarian island with only about 7,500 people in spite of being roughly the same size as Antigua that has 90,000. I expect that there are way more cows and goats here than people. It’s a nice mix and as you’d expect, cheese is their biggest product.
Pico has a more traditional atmosphere when it comes to homes, with many built of rough volcanic stone. That is not to say that Sao Jorge is not traditional, as it is, but the rough stone homes are not the dominant style, with more with smooth cement walls very common. As is the case everywhere, the roofs are clay tiles, which gives each island a wonderful feel.
And, Pico, the mountain, dominates the skyline pretty much wherever you go. This view of Pico from Pandora this morning was particularly iconic and a wonderful way to start the day.
The fact that the rolling had pretty much stopped, didn’t hurt.
The marina is so tiny it’s clear that only a government would go to the trouble to build one here as the cost is so high that it would never turn a profit. And the prices they charge, dirt cheap, would never begin to cover even the upkeep. While there is a small airport, most of the movement from nearby islands is by ferry and they show up completely full several times a day, mostly from Horta.
This photo does not begin to show the small scale of the marina. In fact, one of the reasons that Pandora isn’t able to get a slip is that we are too big for all but a few slips. That is in very sharp contrast to the Caribbean where Pandora is on the tiny side.
The entrance is very narrow and I can only imagine what it would be like to enter it with a sea running. The scale of the wall is apparent here. Big waves in the winter, I’ll bet.
The road out of town is a series of switchbacks as the mountain is quite steep.
The harbor viewed from an overlook a short distance outside of town.
The big dock is for supply ships that bring in everything that is needed on the island. In the short time that we have been here two have come and gone.
The harbor doesn’t look particularly tight but there are a lot more boats now than when this photo was taken. And, with nearly 50′ of water it takes over 150′ of chain to anchor and that makes for a huge swing when the wind changes direction. Boats have to be quite far apart so as to avoid bumping, like we did on the first night.
Pandora close up.
The waterfront is very charming, and as is the case in most harbor side towns, the local churches dominate.
As in Horta, the sidewalks are mosaic and streets cobblestone.
The entire island is well kept and unlike much of rural America, no junk cars or old stuff littering the landscape. This civic garden is particularly lovely. Flowers in abundance and not a single spec of litter.
One of Brenda’s goals in visiting these islands is to see handwork so we drove to the other end of the island, a 45 minute drive to go about 17km on windy roads, and visited a weaving studio. Of course, she bought a few pieces. I, on the other hand, was more interested, and she was as well, in what we learned was the only operating coffee plantation in the Azores.
It is a very tiny operation, tended by one family very close to the coastline. There was a cafe, serving their own coffee, a weaving studio on the second level and the coffee growing out back.
The studio was so clean I wondered how much weaving was actually going on.
When we toured the coffee plantation, actually more like a garden, Peter of Pete’s Cafe Sport in Horta, showed up with his family. It seems that he takes “vacations” to Sao George. Who knew?
The beans were ripening on the trees. I was told that the leaves come off and new ones grow but at this point the trees looked half dead compared to the lushness all around. I was assured that this was normal.
Each bean is picked as it turns red. Very labor intensive. Picked one bean at a time.
And put on a cement slab to dry. Their entire yearly production is only about 400 kilos. A tiny business at best, I’d say.
Like nearly every home on the island, wine grapes growing over a patio.
Like on the other islands, the government takes pains in making sure that there are lots of fun places to hang out. This is a grilling station. I thought it was a bus stop.
It was adjacent to this beautiful picnic area.
Which happened to be right near the ruins of an old water mill. Two actually, as one was behind trees up a series of stone steps. The “river” was dry and I expect that is only runs when it’s particularly rainy and then they would jump to and grind stuff with the mill. The site was complete with a post displaying a QR code which was the only reason that I knew it was a mill.
We went to the very end of the island to see the old lighthouse, down an endless dirt road.
The lighthouse is decommissioned in 1964 after damage from an earthquake. It operated for less than ten years. It’s a huge complex but is now in ruins. We viewed it from a lookout station high up on the hill.
We viewed it from a lookout station high up on the hill.
There were a number of steep steps getting there.
But what a view.
And a lone stand of trees on the ridge.
Along the way, lots of livestock. Of course, cows.
Cows and flowers.
And goats. Cute goats in no particular rush.
Of course, a hydrangea lined roadway. The iconic view of the Azores.
One “must see” sight is a forest preserve in the middle of the island. We came upon it without actually trying as it is on one of the few roads through the middle of the island. It is a dense stand of trees, flowers and ferns. Note the lichen growing on the trunks of these cedars.
There are lovely paths that wind through the woods.
While hydrangea grow everywhere along the road, they also grow in the shade.
And beautiful tree ferns.
These emerging fronds are as thick as a wrist.
The ferns grow to great heights.
This area used to be near a village as witnessed by these old washing basins. They would have been fed by a spring. Each square basin has it’s own spillway to feed water where women washed clothes.
As dense as the forest is, the boundaries are abrupt, ending with pasture. I am guessing that this area was once dense forest everywhere but cut down for construction and to make room for livestock.
Yesterday we stayed local and spent a good deal of the afternoon aboard. Fortunate for us, Sunday was the annual bull fight. Actually, this isn’t much of a fight, more of a “bull taunting” by 20 somethings that tease the bulls.
I say “aboard Pandora” as the entire spectacle, and it is very popular, takes place on the commercial pier on the waterfront. It’s quite something to see the crowds line the tops of 40′ shipping containers that are lined up against the breakwater. This image is just a very small part of the waterfront.
Bulls were brought in and released on the pier to chase the “taunters”. No bulls were harmed in the making of this spectacle, just really annoyed.
This went on for several hours, with a succession of bulls employed, and was so much fun to watch. Pandora was anchored nearby so Brenda and I sat on deck with a glass of wine, cheering them on.
As the bulls run back and forth, some of the participants had to jump in the water to avoid getting hit by the very pissed off bull. I have to say that it is more show and danger, but great fun. I was trying to imagine something like this happening in the US as there were mothers with strollers on top of the huge containers with every opportunity to drop 20′ to a cement pier.
In the US there would be an army of police keeping everyone in place and an equally aggressive group of lawyers hoping for someone to be hurt so they could sue the city or whomever they could blame.
Alas, I only saw two police and a single ambulance. No loss of life or even an injury it seems. Nice to see good old fashioned fun for all ages, something that is scarce in the US with such a massive concern about placing blame if things go badly.
Within moments of the crowd dispersing the machinery came out to clear the “bleachers” and get the port back in shape to accept the next ship.
In less than an hour, the last of dozens of containers were moved and the port was ready for business.
A great fun day for the citizens, and a few pissed off bulls, on Sao Jeorge and we were there.
All the while, Mount Pico kept watch over the crowd.
This afternoon we head out to San Miquel, a 140nm run. We should arrive early tomorrow morning. It’s been a while since Brenda has done an overnight. Details to come.