A lifelong dream: Crossing the Atlantic as a couple - a high on the Azores

• The first part of the trip starting in Florida you can find here.
• The third and final part of the journey with the arrival will follow soon!

Slowly, "Ente" feels its way into the dark harbour of Lajes das Flores by the light of the torch. Not a soul in sight, everything seems to be happening at the fair up in the town. Between two ships, we find a perfectly fitting gap in the quay wall and squeeze into it. The first shore leave after three weeks at sea is a shaky experience and I have to be careful not to tip off the quay when mooring. After a quick sip at the mooring, we also hurry towards the music, overjoyed. We want to party!

Flores: Arrival in the Azores

The next day, the first stop is a café: croissants, pastéis de nata and a Portuguese latte will tantalise your taste buds. Only a small island in the middle of the ocean can radiate this peace. Six years ago, however, Hurricane Lorenzo swept over the westernmost outpost of Europe. Twenty metre high waves destroyed large parts of the harbour and the old outer pier is still in ruins.

Directly in front of our boat is a beautiful Hallberg-Rassy. As luck would have it, two of Timo's blue water friends are in the process of transferring this boat from Grenada to Spain. The boys met a year and a half ago at the carnival in Trinidad. Their own boats have since been sold, but they can't pass up the opportunity of a paid-for new long voyage. They are delighted to see each other again and, fittingly, Carl is celebrating his birthday the next day. Together, we immerse ourselves once again in the festivities, for which a ballad superstar, Tony Carreira, has been flown in from the mainland to get the islanders' spirits boiling.

Up into the clouds

After the lively party, we hitch a lift to the Ribeira do Ferreiro waterfalls. After a few minutes uphill, the road leads through low-hanging clouds and the spectacular views can only be guessed at. The only splashes of colour in the white-grey mash are the ubiquitous blue hydrangeas by the roadside. From the car park, the 20-minute ascent takes us along a slippery stone path through jungle-like vegetation.

Once you reach the top, you are inevitably overwhelmed by a magical, almost spiritual atmosphere. The Lagoa dos Patos ("duck lagoon" in Portuguese) rises up at your feet, a huge green wall whose rocky ridge is covered in cloud and from which around twenty waterfalls cascade. We savour this spectacle in awe, accompanied by the sound of rushing water and birdsong. Time seems to stand still in this place.

A spontaneous change of plan

Back on board, my brother confronts me with a surprising question: "What do you say we sail straight to Cuxhaven?" The original plan was to move the boat to Faro on the southern Portuguese coast and then fly home. However, Timo decided to sell his faithful "duck", and it is naturally more practical to do this on his own doorstep.

It would also be a worthy conclusion to his Atlantic tour. "I think it's great, let's do it!" is my spontaneous answer. The appeal of saving on the plane ticket and extending the Atlantic adventure at the same time is great. The only problem: the remaining distance doubles to over 2,200 nautical miles and there are only just over three weeks left until work and everyday life will put an end to our time out. The Azores High is living up to its name, with hardly any wind to be expected over the next few days.

A stop on Faial is a must

In other words: We have to get going. Say goodbye to our sailing friends, stock up on provisions and refuel. The voyage format changes from a voyage of discovery to a ferry trip with the ticking clock on our necks. But not without a stopover in Horta on Faial. Because without the obligatory visit to the Peter Café Sport, the most famous sailing pub in the world, it's simply not possible.

The 130 nautical miles to the main island of the Azores are characterised by a leaden calm, so that the old Mercedes engine of the Hanseat barely comes to rest. Despite the sound waves, a school of dolphins with over 30 animals comes to visit, while at night phosphorescent micro-organisms and jellyfish trace the course in the wake.

As we could no longer reach the harbour master in Horta by radio, we try our luck in the evening in the packed harbour. We actually find an exclusive spot on the finger jetty - almost too good to be true. When clearing in, however, we are told to report to the harbour master at eight o'clock in the morning if at all possible.

Flag exchange at Peter Café Sport

The Peter Café Sport lives up to its legendary reputation. The atmosphere amidst countless pennants and flags from crews that have stopped by is extremely cosy, and the staff take all the time they need to answer questions.

Of course we want to hang up a signed YACHT pennant. The waiter leads us directly to the owner, "Peter" Azevedo, and the flag is exchanged in a ceremonial act. We are given a blue guest flag decorated with a white sperm whale. Now our pennant can also be pinned to the wall. Bernard Moitessier was here, as were Éric Tabarly and Sir Francis Chichester.

Now so are we! However, this honour does not protect us from being told off by the harbour master: "You should have anchored in the outer harbour and cleared in using the dinghy. I'm the only one who decides whether there are free places, and there's a waiting list!" But mercy before justice: due to a small wind window, we want to set off again the next day and are allowed to stay put as an exception.

A "duck" for eternity

Before the unfortunately much too early departure, there is one more important thing to do: our signature on the harbour wall. Every boat that has made the long journey across the Atlantic to Horta is allowed to immortalise itself here in the form of a picture. According to the superstition of the islanders, it even brings bad luck if this tradition is ignored.

Equipped with brushes, paints and a spray can, we look for an unpainted spot on the colourful wall. Not so easy, after all, we don't want to damage any other work. In the last evening light, Timo refines a gap between the works of a Dutch and a French crew with a yellow squeaky duck. Including our names, route and year. There's no doubt that SY "Ente" has left its mark here.

• The first part of the trip starting in Florida can be found here.
• The third and final part of the journey with the arrival will follow soon!