Sta. Lucia: sole occupants, donkeys...

...goats and dogs. The tiny village is now deserted. We sail wnw from Terrafal at 9am, following several French boats out of the bay. The island puts us in lee of the wind the first calm bit, then we cross a line into white water. The winds now gusting up to 30 knots , we´re glad we have two reefs inn. Pulling out a corner of the genoa we sail a nice 5, 51/2 knots on a rathe4r smooth, but "confused" sea. Wind over current makes the sea choppy.

We sail by two smaller islands on our part , also uninhabited. Ilheu do Raso is the first, a dark volcanic cone, and lava plains, home to giant geckos. The next, Ilheu do Branco, is "bronco", that is, white, because of huge white sandstone areas down the mountain slopes.

Then we arrive at the next windward island, Sta. Lucia, where we plan to anchor. The first part of the island we meet is under us. Our depth is redused to 19, 20 meters, and this lava plain continues above water as a long spit, partially covered in hilly white sand cones, quite a lunar scene! The rest of the island is red. Four major volcano craters, rising steeply from the narrow whit esand strand. Between these conical mountains tunneled wind races down ravines out to the leeward bay we plan to anchor in.
Already anchored there is a German catamaran and, on the other side of a jagged reef, our English "boat neighbors" from Tarrafal, "Storm Witch". We anchor between them, looks like it´ll hold.

But the wind, still well over 20 knots, doesn´t invite leaving the boat. Neither does the hard surf on the beach look pleasant for dinghy landing. Our English neighbor solves this by having one crew, the wife, aboard as he swims ashore and has a look about. Any donkeys here?
We use the clean sea water here to wash clothes: salt water and soap, a salt rinse, then a fresh water rinse, and then a good dry in the hot, force 5, winds!
As we finish (a soup with pasta and eggs) dinner, watching the magenta streaked sky darken we see a light, a sailbaoat going by. Then going back again. No, now it´s approaching the island. The sky darkens and we turn on the anchor light as not one but two boats, then three slowly, carefully approach the black island, through the black, choppy waters. No moon. And strong gusting winds. I hope their radars and chart-çlotters are working. Two anchor just east of us, the third just outside, not far from the reef.
We hear a lot of rattling of chain from below and have an hour´s anchor-watch, checking our position on the GPS. All´s well.

Still, no deep sleep this night.