Canary Islands

A few days in Las Palmas on the island of Grand Canaria, Canary Islands.
Although it is off the coast of Morocco, it is owned by Spain and most definitely a "part of Europe".
European Union passport holders walk right through and the Euro is the local currency.
The Canary Islands are to Europeans, what the Bahamas are to Americans. . . .
some place warm to visit during the winter that is only a couple hour flight.
More importantly for me, it is where I started my trans-Atlantic sailing voyage.


The easiest way for me to get to the Canaries was through London.

This building is giving birth to an airplae.

The South African Airways jet I arrived on 3 hours earlier.

The now retired super-sonic Concord jet.

A cargo ship.

Arriving at Gran Canaria.

Fish farms slightly offshore.

Arriving in the city of Las Palmas.

The first of many rainbows.

The 2nd rainbow.

The 3rd.

The 4th (boy I forgot how many there were).

The crew of the Matilda, where we would be leaving from in a couple days.

Christmas lights.

A local Spanish style restaurant with ham-hocks hanging from the ceiling.

Old Town.

Driving through the port looking for Immigration. As the only non member of the EU, I was the only that had to get and exit stamp in my passport.

The captain of the vessle has to present the passport.

A very windy day.

Returning the rental car.

Local grocery store.

The local beer.

Meeting with some friends aboard Matilda.

Running into a friend in town.

Tea onboard, talking about the upcoming departure.

The company I SCUBA dove with.

All of the ARC boats awaiting race day.

Some people from a town I know well.

Sun Downer party for sailboat crews.

Carrying the repaired outboard back to the boat.

Dumpster Dave diving in the trash pile.

And the race begins.