It's Thursday morning at the aptly-named Sailor's Bar in the waterfront at the "Muelle Desportivo" here in Las Palmas. I have met up with Michael and Jeri aboard Aphrodite to do a 2700-mile crossing to St Lucia. We are awaiting two things: Margi, our fourth crew and, with Margi, an oilpan for the leaky Yanmar. It's a pretty new engine but it got some saltwater and rusted out the bottom.

Not that we'd ever motor. NoooOOOooo. Except right now, right in the middle of the Atlantic, is a peculiar line of windlessness. Almost a speedbump. It occurred to me in the middle of the night last night that that would be a good thing to motor through. Hence the motor. Regardless, we have two of them, as we have two of everything (hulls, jibs, dogs) so we have a backup in case something goes all snafu.

Also here at the marina are the first several score of boats doing the ARC, including friend Phil Stolp and his crew Dennis aboard Souverain. The ARC (Atlantic Rally for Cruisers) is an exceptionally well-organized group. The 200 or so boats in the rally will be making the same passage as we, but a few weeks later. We are hoping to beat the rush. Perhaps a dozen boats are doing the same thing; we call ourselves the NARC (Not Atlantic Rally for Cruisers) boats, and someone has announced that there will be an informal chat each night at 7:30 on 4146kHz. I really should find out whether that is AM or PM.

Las Palmas is a fairly large city. Someone said it is one of Spain's larger cities despite being a thousand miles away off the coast of Africa. It's said to be a duty-free island, so that may help. Prices here are among the most reasonable in Europe, except for the part about not actually being in Europe.

The marina is adjacent to the commercial center of town, so there is none of that Old-World charm we found everywhere else immediately to hand. However, it's a short taxi-ride or brisk walk to either the old town (where, you know, Christopher Columbus prepared for some of his trips) or the much prettier beach on the other side of the ithsmus. Said beach is 3km long, lined with myriad modestly-priced restaurants, junque shoppes, and the usual seaside stuff that you find anywhere. A splendid landscape and soft sand do a great deal to lighten the mood imposed by the industrial port just to the north of the recreational marina.

We just MAY go sightseeing in the rented car today. Or we may go stock up. This may depend on the learned opinion of our mechanic. Presuming the language barriers back aboard the catamaran do not prove insurmountable. ("Necessito pan for el acieto." Could end up with a plate of olives. We shall see).