Pico, The Azores

Sal Darago in Lajes Harbour

 There was a good sailing wind blowing so the engine went off soon after leaving Horta Marina. Mount Pico soon began to make an impact sending down 25-30 knots of wind from its misty heights and then blocking the wind completely leaving us to wallow in the swell. On Pico island, the tiny harbour of Lajes is completely hidden when viewed from the sea.  I looked at the long breakwater with white, breaking waves beyond it and numerous rocks. I didn’t hesitate in handing over the helm to Jeremy! As it turned out, once we’d rounded the breakwater, the entrance was well marked with red and green buoys. We motored straight into one of the seven visitors’ berths and tied up.

One of the old boilers

Jeremy completed the required documentation with the Port Captain and we went to explore the  very attractive town. Lajes was once a whaling port catching one or two sperm whales a week by traditional methods. The wooden open boats with six rowing places and a mast and sails were towed out to sea by a motor launch. The men were then left to catch the whale using only harpoons thrown by hand. We paid 2.50 euros for a tour of the former whale processing factory, which is now an arts and science centre, where the old boilers and vats had been preserved. The factory closed when all whaling ceased in 1984.

Scrimshaw art

Close to the marina there is the Whaling Museum, which houses full size traditional whaling boats, lots of information about life on Pico and a display of scrimshaw (intricate engraving and carving using whalebone and teeth). Many of the traditional boats have been preserved. They are brightly painted and are used by young and old for rowing and sailing. As luck would have it, there was to be a regatta in two days’ time when crews from all over the island would compete in a race along the coast. 

Kathy at the monument to all the whalers of Pico

 We watched many traditional ex-whaling boats being towed into the harbour the evening before the race and early in the morning on regatta day. Jeremy clambered over huge concrete blocks to the outer breakwater, where he photographed the start. Unlike our sailing regattas, there was no obvious transit line for the start and no starting pistols. No-one knew if there was an exact start time. Somebody must have given some sort of signal because all of a sudden all the sails went up together and the fleet of 28 boats sailed away.

Preparing for the regatta

We toured the island by bus spending time at the ferry port of Madelena and the village of Piedade. The mountain was shrouded in cloud all day but we saw similar vineyards to the ones granted UNESCO status. Many acres of hillside are honeycombed with volcanic rocks, which protect the vines planted within from the frequent winter storms.

And they're off!

On our return to Sal Darago, Jeremy discovered that the water pump was leaking, so he replaced it, having had the foresight to carry a spare (well, two spares, actually). We were ready for the 55 mile passage to Terceira.