As we sit here, reflecting on our incredible journey aboard Asteria, we can’t help but feel a rush of emotions wash over us. The air is still thick with the salty scent of the sea, and memories of our departure from the Helford River in the UK flood back like the waves that tossed us around those first few days. It was September, the winds were fierce, and the sea was a tempest of gray and white, a stark contrast to the days we had spent preparing for this adventure.
Leaving the Helford River was like stepping into the unknown, excitement thrumming in my veins. The wind howled around us, a powerful force urging us to embrace the challenge ahead. Adam took the helm with unwavering determination, while I was trying to find rmy sea legs as I’d not sailed for a few weeks. The first day was a rollercoaster of emotions, with the yacht slicing through the waves, our hearts racing with both fear and exhilaration.
The winds picked up, and the seas grew rougher. It was on that second day, as we battled the relentless waves, that I succumbed to seasickness. Adam could hear my occasional groans from below, a painful reminder of the toll that the ocean can take on a sailor. Ever the steadfast captain, Adam took charge. With a firm grip on the wheel and a steely resolve, he solo sailed through the tumultuous waters, navigating Asteria with grace and skill. I still managed to do my watches as Adam needed sleep, and I lent support from the bunk in the saloon whilst my heart swelled with pride for Adam pushing himself to his limits sailing solo.
On day 3, I was eating again and up in my feet, back to the sailor that Adam knew. Adam was relieved and slept to recover from the first arduous few days.
The wind howled like a banshee, although it was squally, the sun shone through and the rough seas tossed us about, but we held fast to our shared dream of reaching Porto Santo Island. There was something thrilling about being at the mercy of the elements, the waves crashing against the hull, the spray hitting our faces. Each day, we took turns at the helm, a dance of cooperation and trust as we learned to read the winds and the waves together. We felt the temperature gradually rise, ending up wearing shorts and t shirts. The first time for a long time; we were usually sailing usually in full offshores!
By the seventh day, the seas began to calm, and the sun shone all day down on us like a long-lost friend. We settled into a rhythm, sailing double-handed, our spirits lifted by the sight of distant container ships gliding silently past us, their hulking forms a reminder of the world beyond our little vessel. The horizon stretched endlessly before us, a canvas of blue merging with the sky.
Then, on the ninth day, we saw it: the cliffs of Porto Santo rising majestically from the ocean, their volcanic beauty striking against the backdrop of the clear sky. A wave of exhilaration surged through us as we shouted, “Land ahoy!” The moment felt surreal; we had made it. The landscape unfolded before our eyes, dotted with charming houses that clung to the hillsides, sandy browns coming together in a tapestry of life against the stark cliffs.
As we anchored in the harbour, a sense of accomplishment swelled within us. We had faced the formidable sea, emerging stronger and more connected than ever. Our bodies were weary, but our hearts raced with anticipation. All that was left now was the promise of a hot shower, a delicious Portuguese meal, and a glass of cold white wine to toast our triumph. The thought of sipping that chilled nectar, feeling the sun on our skin, and relishing the flavours of the island made our hearts sing.
As we stepped ashore, we knew that this journey was just the beginning. Asteria had carried us across the ocean, and now we were ready to explore the treasures of Porto Santo, together.
Asteria Ahoy! 
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