Seven Days at Sea

From Grand Canary, it will take us seven days at sea before we reach our next port, Walvis Bay, Namibia. So far, we’ve sailed through the Cape Verde Basin, and although we haven’t been able to see land, our ship has passed along the coastlines of Western Sahara, Mauritania, Senegal, Guinea, Sierra Leone, and Liberia. The list of places that we’ve come close to but not seen continues to grow.

Our route took us within 15 nautical miles of Cap Vert, a peninsula in Senegal and the most western point of the continent of Africa. Along this route, we’ve spotted a number of commercial vessels in the distance, so this appears to be a frequently traveled course or shipping lane. Sadly, given our location, it is likely the course followed by slave traders in earlier centuries. If we were to sail directly east into the Gulf of Guinea, we would run into what is identified on the map as the Slave Coast.

A webcam at the bow (front) of the ship shows where the ship is, day and night. If you are interested in seeing what the webcam is showing, enter the URL for the Cunard site. From there you can search for the Queen Elizabeth web cam. I haven’t been able to get the exact URL for the web cam. www.cunard.co.uk/cruise-ships/queen-elizabeth/.

During our days at sea, we’ve seen lots of seabirds but not much marine life. That is until today when we finally saw several large groups (or what the bridge announcer called “pods”) of dolphins swimming along side the ship. Nearby, schools of flying fish were popping out of the water. We’ve mostly seeing seagulls. It’s always a surprise to see birds so far from land.

Crossing the Equator

At 9:00 a.m. on Tuesday, January 19, we crossed the equator, the imaginary line that separates the northern and southern hemispheres. For sailors, this has always been a big occasion. People who haven’t crossed the equator are called Pollywogs. If you’ve crossed the equator and been initiated, you become a Shellback. The crew holds a ceremony for those who wish to become Shellbacks and they initiate you by dumping all kinds of disgusting things over you and then dunking you in the pool. (I think it’s the crew’s way of exacting revenge on passengers). John became a Shellback on our last long voyage. I’m content to remain an uninitiated Pollywog.

Crossing the equator also means that we are now in the South Atlantic and the southern hemisphere. We also crossed the line just above the equator called the Tropic of Cancer and later will cross the Tropic of Capricorn. It’s your position relative to these lines that denotes whether you are in the tropics or subtropics. The region between the two lines is the tropics or what is also called the “torrid zone.”

Later we also crossed the Greenwich or Prime Meridian, a line of longitude that runs through Greenwich, England, which means that we officially crossed from west to east.

At one point, we passed the volcanic island of Ascension, which is situated roughly midway between South America and Africa. We heard that the U.S. Air Force operates a telescope there to track orbital debris. It’s comforting to know that someone is keeping track of all the trash we’ve left in outer space.

Since leaving the turbulent waters of the Bay of Biscay, the seas have become a beautiful shade of cobalt blue and, thankfully, remarkably smooth. I’m sorry to report to readers dealing with heavy snow that the further south we travel, the hotter the days are becoming. It’s the moist air from this area that makes its way to the North American continent and affects the weather patterns there (hurricanes, etc.).

The sunbathers have been out on the top decks in full force. We’ve noticed that there are three categories of passengers: those who are determined to get every ray of sunshine they can get and are on the sun decks all day (to the point the captain keeps making announcements about the need for sunblock and lots of water). Then there are those passengers who find a quiet spot in the various lounges and never see the light of day. The rest prefer the promenade deck, which provides an outside covered area to walk around the ship or to relax on deck chairs and watch the water go by.

We’ll let you guess which area we’re heading for.

Las Palmas, Grand Canary, Spain

Las Palmas, Grand Canary, Spain

During the night we sailed approximately 4.5 nautical miles to the east of the small islands of Selvagem Pequena (small) and Selvagem Grande (large). After passing these islands, we sailed westerly to Grand Canary, Spain (Gran Canaria). Gran Canaria is located 150 KM (93.2 miles) off the northwestern coast of Africa. It is called a miniature continent because of its different climates and variety of landscapes.

The Puerto de la Luz in Las Palmas is a busy working port with what looked like oilrigs, a refinery, and lots of containers stacked six high. The city of Las Palmas, which is near the port, stretches up into the mountains formed by volcanic rock. It is similar to Funchal but the surrounding mountains are more barren.

When we docked, we were surprised to see the three-masted sailing ship, Lord Nelson, docked next to us. The Lord Nelson is a UK passenger and training ship that enables youth and people with limited mobility to sail aboard a true sailing vessel. The last time we saw the ship was in 2005 at the ceremonies commemorating the 200^th anniversary of the Battle of Trafalgar held in Portsmouth, England. The Lord Nelson is much like a Windjammer ship but has been adapted for wheelchairs, etc. Their URL was printed on the side of the ship: www.jst.org.uk.

The Sailing Ship Lord Nelson

From the upper deck of the QE, we had a terrific view of the dockyard. Two Spanish naval vessels were docked nearby. We could hear band music and saw sailors in their white uniforms lining up for some type of ceremony. It made us wistful for the military ceremonies we had participated in.

Spanish Naval Vessels with Las Palmas in the background

Since the downtown area was a long walk from the port, we decided to take the Hop On, Hop Off bus and tour the city. We were amazed at how built up and big the downtown area was for such a small island. The streets are quite narrow with tall buildings (some ten stories high) on both sides of the street and went on for quite a distance. It gave us a sense of being in a maze. However, between the buildings, we frequently had views of the beautiful beaches that border the downtown area.

We passed a number of parks with statues of historic people, including one of (as the recorded tour information said) “Admiral Columbus, who stopped in Gran Canaria before going off to conquer the Americas.”

One of many beautiful parks in Las Palmas

The buildings in Las Palmas are an interesting combination of traditional Spanish and modern styles of architecture, with some clad in ceramic and stone tiles. Many had window shutters to block out the afternoon heat, although the recorded tour information said that Gran Canaria has the best year-round temperature in the world. The recording included the scientific reason for that claim, but I didn’t make note of it. Given that, I can see why many people come here each year to escape the cold, wet winters of England, including our friends who winter in nearby Lanzarote. Agatha Christie is said to have spent time at one of the hotels we passed and created some of her characters there.

We had a terrific view from the open top deck of the tour bus. Unfortunately, it was a hazardous place to sit. A thick tree branch grazed me on the head as we passed under it. My trusty straw hat, which makes me look like a mushroom, cushioned the blow and I wasn’t injured—just a bit shaken. If I had been an inch taller, I could have come away with a serious head injury, or at the very least, black eyes or a broken nose. Not a terrific way to begin a vacation. We would have walked around the ship with everyone giving my husband dirty looks. For the first time I was thankful for my short stature.

Queen Elizabeth Seen from a Las Palmas Park

After we returned to the ship and had lunch, John and I went up to the terrific sports deck on the QE, which is quite large and partially shaded from the intense sun by canvas sails overhead. Since the area was virtually empty, we tried our hand at paddleball, which is played on a small tennis court; English lawn balls; croquet; quoits; and my favorite, shuffleboard. It was nice not having anyone witness our dismal performance. But with practice, we hope to get better.

One Side of the QE Sports Deck

Late afternoon, we set sail again. The pier was empty when the ship pulled away. No grand sendoffs like we saw on the farewell voyage of the QE2, when everyone wanted to see her for the last time and thousands of people came out at every port. However, suddenly in the distance we saw a lone man rapidly pedal his bike to the end of the long pier. He hopped off his bike and started waving and taking pictures. Just when we thought no one cared.

We bid farewell to Grand Canary, without seeing a single canary.

Funchal, Madeira (Portugal)

  

We awoke before daylight, and when we pulled the drapes back, saw the lights of Funchal stretching out in the distance. We had arrived in Madeira during the night. Funchal is quite mountainous and stretches around the bay, forming a natural amphitheater. White buildings with terracotta roofs reached nearly to the mountaintops.

We took the shuttle bus provided by Cunard to the center of town and got off on a tree-lined street filled with numerous outdoor restaurants. Music coming from a nearby restaurant greeted us. The sounds of Portugal? No, the group America singing “A Horse With No Name.” No matter how far we travel, we are never far from the things of home.

Off topic: The singing group America started playing together as high school students at the American School in High Wycombe, England about the time we lived there in the 1970s. The students at this school were primarily the children of American military personnel and U.S. government employees working in England. The daughter of a Navy chief I worked with in London was a classmate of the group. Six degrees of separation.

Throughout the city, large blue and white murals, which consist of individual ceramic tiles to complete the image, decorate the fronts of commercial buildings and churches.  

Tile mural and mosaic sidewalk

Beautiful purple flowers cascading from cliff sides and supporting walls fill the city with color. Madeira is famous for its flowers, which are probably sold in the flower markets of England. The intricate patterns on the sidewalks add a lot of interest. Each street seems to have a different sidewalk pattern made up of black and cream irregular shaped tiles laid in mosaic patterns. They are very much like the ones in Rio de Janeiro, which makes sense since they are both Portuguese.

We quickly left the center of town and major shopping area and made our way to the seafront, which was lined with lovely new parks filled with palm trees. We knew they were new because workmen were still planting palms, and the pavement wasn’t covered with discarded chewing gum that we saw in other places. Large cement bollards in the shape of children’s jacks stretched along the seafront, which we thought was an interesting method for preventing erosion.

Stopping along the way, we watched cable cars that went from the seafront to the mountaintop above the city. We considered riding on one for about a nanosecond. It would have been nice to see the views, but after watching the cable cars soaring over buildings and deep gorges as they made their way to the mountaintop, and considering my fear of heights, we decided against it.

Instead, we toured a brightly painted stone fort that also serves as an art gallery. From one of the battlements, we saw a replica of the Santa Maria sailing by carrying tourists. Columbus stopped in Madeira with his ships the Nina, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria. We had heard the ships had been quite small. After seeing just how small, we were amazed that Columbus and his ships made it across the Atlantic.  

Fort

Santa Maria

We stopped to look at the Capela De Corpo, a lovely little white stone chapel. Incongruously, the front entrance of the chapel sat twenty feet away from the Casablanca Strip Club.

We soon realized after we started walking back to the ship that we had greatly underestimated the distance. It was quite a hike, and our Fitbit reported that we had covered over four miles. Health officials recommend walking 10,000 steps a day, which I rarely achieve. Today we had walked over 10,000 steps before lunch! Thank goodness for the Smart Wool socks my daughter gave me for Christmas, or my feet would have been killing me. They really work.

Later on the top deck, we saw a man posing for a photo holding a bottle of Madeira wine. He stood in front of lifebuoy with “Queen Elizabeth” printed on it and the city of Madeira in the background. He looked quite happy with his purchase, and the photo would tell the whole story. It also reminded us that we had forgotten the bottle of Madeira we had planned to purchase. Madeira is a place we would enjoy visiting again—and not just for a bottle of wine.

As we sailed away that evening, music played and people danced on the back deck. It was quite a festive event.

Sail away

Next, seven days at sea.

En route to Funchal, Madeira

Where in the world are they?

Since leaving Southampton, we’ve sailed through the Solent, passing Cowes on the Isle of Wight and Portsmouth, before entering into the English Channel. From there we traversed the Bay of Biscay, which runs along the coasts of France and parts of Spain. The bay, which is known for its rough waters, accounted for the rocky ride we had the past two days. After leaving the bay, we’ve been sailing parallel to the Spanish and Portuguese coastlines.

Of particular note to John, who is an admirer of Lord Horatio Nelson, we passed Cape Trafalgar, where in 1805, 27 Royal Navy ships, commanded by Lord Nelson, defeated the combined French and Spanish fleet of 33 ships, saving England from invasion by Napoleon’s forces. Unfortunately, Lord Nelson perished during the Battle of Trafalgar. Experiencing the rough waters in this area, we could only imagine how difficult it must have been to serve on an 18^th century warship engaged in heated battle.

We are sailing toward Funchal, Madeira, which lies west of Morocco and north of the Canary Islands. According to the QE daily program, Madeira is an archipelago in the mid Atlantic Ocean with volcanic origins, so it is not geographically a part of a specific continent. However, it belongs ethnically, culturally, economically, and politically to Portugal. It is known for its excellent wines (Madeira) and flowers. We will be arriving there early on Thursday morning.

As we made our way to Madeira, we enjoyed a number of onboard activities, including the second presentation by Bill Bryson. This time he spoke about some of the material he covered in his book A Short History About Nearly Everything. He said he wrote it during a time of intense interest in science and the creation of the universe. Given that it is such a miracle that humans have survived, with so many things that could have made us extinct, he said we should be particularly concerned about global warming and what we are doing to our planet.

But one of the most interesting things he talked about, and what so many people who have read A Walk in the Woods have probably wondered, was what happened to his friend Steven Katz (not his read name). In the book, a true story, Katz accompanied Bill Bryson on his hike of the Appalachian Trail. He was recovering from alcohol and drug dependency and wasn’t in the greatest shape. Bill said that he was delighted to report that Katz “sorted himself out,” overcame his dependencies, and is doing remarkably well. Katz is thrilled that people ask how he is doing and enjoys being a celebrity.

Afterwards, I stood in line to have Bill sign my copy of A Sunburned Country. When I told him that I had brought the book with me, he said that he felt quite honored. When he realized that I was American, he commented that there weren’t many Americans onboard and seemed disappointed.

Later that evening, we attended the Captain’s Welcome Reception. We could have skipped the long line of people waiting to have a photo taken with the captain, but we wanted to meet Captain Inger Klein Thorhauge, one of the first female captains to command a cruise vessel. Some of the passengers who have sailed with her before and members of the crew we talked to spoke very highly of her.

Captain Inge Klein Thorhauge

As I mentioned previously, we had been invited to have dinner at the Master’s Table. It turned out the table is the main table in the Britannia Dining Room, under a large mural near the grand staircase leading into the dining room. The table is identified by whoever is hosting a dinner there. When it is the ship’s captain, it is the Captain’s Table, etc. In our case, the host was the Deputy Captain (aka the ship’s Master) Russell Robson. Also invited were three other couples and the captain’s secretary, Amy, a lovely young woman from London who had a remarkable resemblance to the Duchess of Cambridge (Kate Middleton).

Master’s Table in Britannia Dining Room

Captain Robson was a gracious host and quite entertaining, telling us some of his schoolboy exploits in England. It was a delightful evening, and we felt quite honored to have been invited.

It was quite a day.