Four men on a raft: farewell La Gomera - next stop the Bahamas
At the age of 84, Anthony Smith is crossing the Atlantic on a raft. Here, in his new weekly column about the voyage, he explains why.
At last, at last. A high pressure system has developed over the Azores, winds have begun to blow from the north-east and our raft should travel in the desired direction.
The people of Valle Gran Rey on the Canary island of La Gomera have been most positive in their assistance, from the mayor and harbourmaster to the security staff and Oceano, owners of the towing craft.
Our naming ceremony took place an eternity ago. The band played. A considerable crowd assembled. Nuria Gámez, first lady of the local council, came gingerly down the quayside ladder and made a pretty speech before taking hold of the champagne. With force she smashed it against a piece of steel screwed to the mast in anticipation. With greater force she smote again. And again.
At the sixth strike, to great relief, much glass and froth flew everywhere. A cheer went up and the still-dry Nuria Gámez then inspected the accommodation, the 40 containers of food, the five polyethylene tubes of drinking water, the satellite communication gear, the bunks (such as they are), the cooking zone (a single stove) and everything else which at least one of us had considered essential for rafting across the Atlantic. After all, this is to be our home for the next 73 days.
We, the crew, were photographed extensively: David Hildred (57, from the Virgin Islands), Andrew Bainbridge (56, from Canada), John Russell (61, from Oxford) and me (84, from London). We expressed great confidence in our 40ft x 18ft craft, constructed during the previous nine weeks.
We told of its water pipes serving for buoyancy, of the telegraph-pole mast, of the single sail, of the low fencing to prevent tumbles overboard, and of our determination to show that advanced years do not forbid intriguing projects for those who embark on them.
We also wish to demonstrate that rafts can be navigated. A particular beach in the Bahamas has been earmarked as our destination. We will use the old Peruvian “guara” system of leeboards, located somewhat randomly around our deck. And, to make the point that only wind and current took our sailing ancestors everywhere, we have no motor. To create electricity for our modern aids – GPS, EPIRB, AIS, Satnav and so forth – we have four solar panels, a wind generator and a foot pump, which will also serve as exercise equipment.
We can communicate with the outside world by email and satellite phone. For entertainment, we have much music, quite a few books, and each others’ stories. We are not long-time friends, with tales from the past well known. Therefore novelty will be well received, at least for a while.
Dave will serve as skipper, being the most experienced sailor. Andy, a retired GP, will help with his expertise when need be. John, the lawyer, will assuredly diminish all personal upset. As for me, the least experienced as sailor, medic or arbitrator, I will try to put antiquity to good purpose, being longest in the tooth.
The wait has been frustrating, but to venture forth prematurely would have us venturing back to base very speedily. Christopher Columbus, who started his voyage from the same Canary island, also had to wait awhile.
So. If all goes to plan, by the time you read this on Sunday we will have been towed from our current quayside berth by a small vessel normally used for whale watching. The support vessel will accompany us for a few days until we clear Spanish waters, giving those on board the chance of seeing whales, plus the certainty of seeing on its way a new kind of raft and a new crew of rafters hoping to voyage in novel fashion from the old world to the new.