Still Here & In St Tropez

I feel bad. I haven't written a blog in ages (you may or may not have noticed) due to a number of factors; I'm getting married, I've been distracted with my new house and the dog ate my homework...

If you were hoping for a far more juicy list of excuses, I'm afraid I can't even make any up, I'm too honest you see - apart from the bit about the dog and his dietary choices.

The truth is, I've been bamboozled by my approaching wedding and the excitement of it. And then obviously, we on Mariquita are between regattas, Cannes and St Tropez, always a very busy time of year.

We came 4th in the Cannes regatta! That might not sound all that successful but we raced very well and in pretty windy conditions. In fact one day we had over 45 knots of wind howling through the rigging. That's a day when we simply hang on, clip on the harnesses and life jackets and stay calm. It's incredibly exciting to be honest. I love it, the adrenaline rush on board from (most of) us is palpable (the rest - fear).

Now we are in St Tropez and we race tomorrow. I can't quite believe it's the last regatta of the season. And I can't believe it is October!

Two and a half months to the wedding - did I mention I was getting married?

If you have been following my blog you may already be aware that I was marrying the 1st Mate of Mariquita. Well, now I will be marrying the Captain of Mariquita. That's right Ladies and Gentleman, by Christmas I will be a Captain's wife.

It's not that I've decided to callously ditch my 1st Mate fiance in favour of the higher rank of Captain; Jim is a happily married man and I'm still engaged to George the 1st Mate. But George will be made Captain after St Tropez regatta as Jim is moving on to pastures new, Mariquita will have new owners and well, it's all change folks.

It's very exciting and sad in equal measure. Jim has been our fearless leader for 8 years, a truly brilliant Captain. But he is moving on and George is moving on up and I'm obviously incredibly proud of him.

And I have decided that this will be my last racing year. I know! how scary. But I'll be a Mrs, have a beautiful cottage in the Suffolk countryside and well, I'm now 35 years old and I've been living in the confines of boat quarters and on the high seas for long enough. It's time to move onto Tera-firma for good. My own kitchen, my own bathroom, my very own garden. Which I am utterly clueless about, but am very willing to learn. I'll be brave.

This blog may well turn into 'From Surf to Turf', by about the spring of next year. My ambition is to grow my own vegie's, herbs and fruits and I have absolutely no idea how to do any of that. I'll be stripping off the sailing gloves to become green fingered. How exciting. Any tips will be greatly appreciated. Pretty cool that my future plans will mean that I'll be able to keep up my strict 'whats-the-point-in-filing-my-nails' regime. Silver linings and all that.

So I hope you'll understand my absence, we've had a lot on in the last few weeks. I'll be here for a while though. The recipes and Mariquita stories will keep coming until I wave them off from the dock without me.

In the mean time...

St Tropez regatta here we come, with bells on! My last regatta (there could be tears) and Mariquita's last with Captain Jim Thom at the helm. We won it last year, can we do it again?

I'll keep you informed.

Thanks for reading!

Cheers.

　

　

　

　

Barcelona!

The coast of Africa and laundry

Now before you all start to panic, I'm okay and Mariquita is happily sailing/motoring down towards the Gibraltar straights as I type this. Of course in real-time, and because you're reading this, we're probably already in Barcelona and with any luck, I'm sitting in a nice little bar with a cold, clinky Mojhito, a large umbrella keeping me cool and my lap-top screen visible whilst the handsome Spanish waiter brings me another of those tasty little tapas numbers.

As we left Brest

However, as I write this I am in my cabin having just finished my watch and we haven't quite reached the Gibraltar straights yet. So my tapas fantasy is still quite a few days off.

All-in-all it's not been a bad trip. It certainly beats the trip going to the UK earlier in the year. But it has most definitely had its ups and its downs. We had to sit in Brest, France for 6 days before we could really get going. Then when we did, the rocking and rolling was pretty unbearable.

Though bare it we did all the way across the bay of Biscay until the fog came in just as we reached the other side. Now boy was that some fog. It swamped over us like a cotton wool blanket and would not thin out, no matter how much we peered into it and blew on our fog horn. We had a look-out at the top of the mast as the collected fog literally rained down on us from the rigging and from our eyelashes.

It was most eerie; a silencing, swirling web of water. And then it happened, as the darkness fell and the fog became even more blinding; we ran over a bloody fishing pot.

Now bare with me whilst I have a small but I feel, legitimate little rant here; how are fishermen/people (P.C?) allowed to plant small, un-lit, fishing pots in the middle of shipping channels? How is this legal? How do they sleep at night? This particular pot wrapped itself beautifully around our prop in the middle of the night in thick fog with a ship we could see on the radar stealthily coming up behind us. No wind for sailing and nowhere to go!

And it was my Fiancé who had to jump in with scuba gear, a knife and with a rope wrapped around him for safety to cut us free - what a hero he is. But if I ever get my hands on the fisherman who put it there, ooh! he'd get a piece of my mind.

Rant over.

And now to finish; happily I am sitting in a quaint cafe here in Barcelona. The waiter is in fact a waitress, the Mojhito is a glass of fizzy water with ice and lemon and I've had way too many tapas already to contemplate having any more. I am far from cool, in fact I am absolutely boiling and am lusting over the thought of a long, cold shower at the Barcelona yacht club. After 10 days of 10 second boat-showers, I feel I can leave the tap running for a few moments over my hot head. I feel it's justified.

I shall leave you with the usual chain of photos and a quick, fantastic recipe for a line-caught fish carpaccio with hot sesame oil, lime and soy sauce. Ever so easy but ever so delectable and even better if you have only just plucked your fish from the sea like we did.

Thanks for reading!

Cheers!


For fish carpaccio with sesame you will need;
1 fresh fish or a largish fillet such as swordfish, we had a stripped Bass
5 tbsp of sesame oil
5 tbsp soy sauce
juice of 1 lime and one lime cut into wedges as a garnish for folk to squeeze their own

Method;

The best way to achieve lovely thin slices of fish carpaccio if you don't happen to be a 10 year trained sushi chef is to wrap the fish fillet tightly in cling film and put it in the freezer. It is a whole lot easier to cut your thin slices with a sharp knife and a solid piece of fish! Also, if you're keen you can sprinkle some fennel seeds, fresh cut dill or saffron strands onto the cling film and then wrap the fish up with this to 'marinade' it whilst it's freezing.

When you are slicing the fish, lay the pieces on a lovely big flat serving platter or on individual plates as you wish. Lay the pieces so that there are no gaps, the edges of the fish very slightly over-lapped.

In a small pan, gently heat the sesame oil, soy sauce and lime juice and add a small pinch of salt. Don't let it come to the boil but make sure it is hot. Then just before you serve the fish, using a large spoon, drizzle the hot oil over the carpaccio.

Garnish with sesame seeds, Norri flakes (seaweed) and lime wedges. And can I add that being presented with a large plate of this with a chilled glass of wine and some fresh bread to mop up the juices is just what life is supposed to be all about? In my book at least.

Although that isn't how we ate it as we popped into the Med through the Gibraltar straights on a very dry boat. But it was still splendid with a jug of iced water!

Caterina taking her watch on the fog horn.




All excitement as we arrive in Barcelona

Arriving in Barcelona as the sun set.

A bit of Samphire Magic

I was supposed to send this in the beginning of the month whilst we were still in Brest. I had it all typed up and ready to go, pressed send and the internet failed... So here it is. A few weeks late and from our destination of Barcelona. Enjoy a little bit of home before we get all hot and sticky.

And there went July.

So here we are in Brest, back in the world of France. I know, we didn't get very far did we.
I was becoming nicely used to being in England despite the rain. And having had quite a few supermarket shops in France to replace food eaten and to thankfully fill my mended freezer, I am starting to miss it already.

We leave here tomorrow after lunch and will aim for Sanxenxo which will take approximately 4-5 days. Looking out to sea today, one is hoping that all those lumpy looking waves will have gone elsewhere by then. Oh I do dread a lumpy sea for deliveries...

The unfortunate incident of the freezer not working has now passed with huge sighs of relief, but as a consequence I have no bad-weather frozen food ready to hand. So I shall just have to grit my teeth and keep it simple if the weather doesn't improve much. They'll understand, they're a jolly nice crew. (So nice in fact that Billy is cooking dinner for everybody to give me a night off. He makes a fine Spag Bol does our Billy)

But really, I mean we are heading south! It should be getting warmer by the hour and sunnier and flatter and lovelier. Bikinis should start to emerge, the smell of sunscreen and Mediterranean food...
I finally have a recipe for you today! I know, It's been ages and I am sorry. After my little holiday I was on full-speed-ahead getting the boat ready for the delivery. I've been pretty busy with that and also with my wedding plans. It's funny how they start to sneak up on you and anything to do with a wedding seems to require you to book 6 months in advance. I struggle to plan my life a week in advance. I'm still trying to get over the fact that it's now August.

But none of that has anything to do with my recipe.

And back to missing the UK. You see, you can buy such lovely things like Samphire in the UK. A 'sea vegetable' with fresh crunch and charming saltiness that perks up a dish in all the right places. Samphire was named for the patron saint of fishing, Saint Pierre, because it grows in salt sprayed coastal areas and originally known as Sampiere, it is now largely known as Samphire although In Norfolk it is known as Sampha and in Northern Wales it is known as Sampkin.

And it is delicious! and well worth finding if you can. I bought two punnets in the Asda in Falmouth, so it can't be that hard to find!

Lightly steamed and tossed in some butter and black pepper is the easiest way to enjoy it, a little like you would asparagus and there is no need to cook it with added salt either, it really doesn't need it.
I added it to some gently cooked leeks, chopped fresh dill and lemon just before tossing it into a pan of al denté spaghetti and parmesan cheese. It was delicious and very easy and I'd love for you to have a go if you've never cooked with Samphire before.

And it isn't seaweed by the way. I might have over-heard a little converstaion between a pair of curious Asda customers having just bagged my little stash. He was all for trying some and she was definately not keen on eating what she was convinced was seaweed...

So for a right good little pasta with Samphire, leeks and lemon you will need;

1 packet of good spaghetti
About 200 g fresh Samphire, washed (1-2 punnets)
3 leeks finely sliced
1 bunch fresh dill, finely chopped so that you have 2 tbsp.
juice and zest of 2 lemons
3 cloves crushed garlic
lots of extra virgin olive oil
Parmesan cheese

Method;

Put a very large pan of water on to boil for the spaghetti. Then in another pan gently saute the leeks in some olive oil and a very small knob of butter and half a tsp of sugar for about ten minutes. Add the crushed garlic and 1 tbsp of the chopped dill and some salt and pepper to taste and saute gently for another 5 minutes.Turn off the heat and add the chooped dill, lemon zest and juice and then toss in the samphire. The heat from the leeks will cook the samphire through enough and you definately still want a little crunch there.

When the water for the pasta is boiling well, add salt. Bring back to a good boil and then cook the spaghetti according to the instructions. When the spaghetti is ready to drain tip into a colunder but make sure you keep one ladleful or a half cup of the cooking water. This will help make your sauce.

Tip the spaghetti back into the pan with the saved water and the add the leek and samphire mixture. Grate in lots of fresh parmesan cheese and a good dollop of olive oil. When I say good dollop, I mean like 150ml.

Garnish with the remaining chopped dill and some lemon slices and serve with lots of yummy bread and salad and a nice cold glass of white wine... If you like.

Told you it was easy. The samphire works so well with all the flavours here to make a beautifully light lunch dish, but if you'd like you could add some fresh salmon and a dollop of creme fraiche and that would be pretty good too.

Well I might go for a little wander around the streets of Brest before we head out to sea again. Not huge scope for excercise on a boat at sea. Mind you if it is rough then cooking in that galley becomes an amazing little work-out.

So see you again in 5 days hopefully! With any luck we'll have attractive tans, we'll be all relaxed from lovely calm seas and lots of catching nice fish for lots of healthy fresh sushi.
And then again...

Panic!

The fridge.

Panic!

And breath....

I had a lovely holiday, thank you. You may or may not have noticed my absence, but if you did then I am back from Suffolk (our beautiful home in beautiful Suffolk) and back on the boat in Falmouth, Cornwall. But not for long.

Due to the weather we are leaving for Barcelona a little earlier than expected. So I have had 4 days to get back into the swing of living on a boat, provisioning for 10 days at sea and cooking bad-weather meals for the freezer. The very same freezer that has just decided for no apparent reason to no longer freeze and is sitting at a balmy 3 degrees.

Hence the panic. Why oh why of all days would it do that to me? And I do indeed take it personally! I'm not rude to it, I never kick it or fill it with the usual bottom dwelling layer of frozen peas. I defrost it when I can and how does it repay me!

We've had one guy here already who couldn't fix it, our engineer is still on holiday and I have cooked 6 meals that need freezing.

Breath girl, breath.

Okay, it's fine really. We'll just eat our way systematically through the bad weather food until the engineer gets back and (hopefully) fixes it. Then if we could all together now pray especially hard for flat calm seas, absolutely no bad weather what-so-ever and most of all for fish, that would be great, I thank you once again.

So I have shopped for all the usual delivery friendly fruit and veg. Green bananas, white and red cabbage for when the lettuce runs out in two days. Did you know that delicate lettuce leaves like rocket gets seasick? It really does. A day at sea and it has turned into a smelly green sludge in a bag. Yuk. So I buy a few hardy icebergs to keep us in salad and then we resort to coleslaws and cucumbers and tomatoes and celeriac remoulades...

It'll be fine. it'll all be fine. Nobody will be going hungry. I can't fit anymore food in the cupboards and bilges. The fridge is fit to burst and the sun is shining.

And if I buy one last batch of Cornish pasties tomorrow morning before we leave, they'll love me forever.

Fingers crossed. So wish us luck and ! I'll let you know how it goes at our very next stop which will probably be Brest, beautiful Brest and their delicious crepes.

Thanks for reading.

Cheers!

Drag two trolleys round a supermarket and fill up with groceries.

Take everything out of the trolleys and load onto a conveyor belt. Check-out person beeps it through the till which you then catch on the other side and load into bags in some semblance of order.

Return groceries to trolley with eggs sitting on top.

Load huge bags of groceries into van, so they don't fall and crush all the eggs.

Unload the van, piling all bags into trolleys warning crew not to crush the eggs.

Unload the groceries from the trolleys to the deck..

Get the groceries down the forward hatch into the crew mess.

Take 3 hours to unload the groceries and put away in various fridges, broken freezers, cupboards and bilges, wiping out all the broken egg and shell from that bag.

Repeat entire process in next port because all the buggers have eaten everything

Pendennis Regatta in Falmouth, Our Favourite.



I am writing this whilst sitting on a train heading North East for Suffolk from Falmouth in Cornwall. It's an exciting journey of five hours to London then all change, a predictably stressful tube ride to Liverpool Street then on the final train to take us home for a little holiday. Eight hours in total it takes to get to Suffolk from Falmouth; eight hours. You can get to America in eight hours, all be it on a plane.

I say a stressful tube journey because I may have picked up a few bits and bobs for our new house on our travels. George has been remarkably calm since he discovered, after our early start this morning that he will be carrying a full length mirror and woven hearth rug along with his own luggage. And will no doubt be required to assist me and my burden of ceramic jug, non-stick wok, collapsible shelf thingy and a couple of picture frames along with my own ruck sack. It all seemed like such a good idea at the time.

However a five hour train ride is a great excuse to sit and do nothing after a very busy Pendennis regatta. As predicted, the regatta brought challenging weather and sailing conditions, fantastic social events and friends from afar. The first day of the regatta was the wettest race I have ever sailed in and with strong, gusty winds meaning many sail changes and incredibly heavy loads, I was basically done in right from the start. The weight of three strand lines and sails triples when they're full of water and lets be honest - I'm getting too old for all of that.

My staysail team were awesome, heaving on sheets and jiggers on the leeward side, often waist deep in strong flowing water as the boat powered up and until I was happy with the staysail's trim. Our harnesses came in pretty handy, keeping us on the boat with its lack of safety rails. But what an adrenaline rush it is. I can't help but love it.

I also cant help but love eating much fresh local lobster and crab whilst here in Cornwall. It's such a treat and a great way to explore the local fisheries and seasonal produce. And if you'd like a simple recipe for a very tasty crab and chili linguine dish then just watch this space... I'll be back.

So I won't selfishly bore you to death just because I have five hours on this train to kill but I will leave you with a few piccys. Don't they tell a thousand stories?

Thanks for reading. Note I didn't talk about the weather too much. But lets hope Sunny Suffolk is just that...


Cheers!

Tidying the decks and wooling sails after a long day racing

                     



Bowsprits in the fog of Falmouth

That there is blue sky. I dont have photoshop I promise. It was real....



Finally getting a sandwich on the rail after the last long race



The forepeak full of wet sails, my bunk in the background. Nice.

And some of beautiful Cornwall;

The Heads

I once before, a little more than a year ago, wrote a story on this blog about a particularly bad case of gastric flu I managed to pick up from somewhere and quite cleverly - I thought - wove it into a simple recipe involving barbecued bananas with dark, melted chocolate. It was a necessary introduction, I believe, to the grunt of the story and ensuing recipe. I did apologise profusely for any offence caused, it being a food blog and all.

With that in mind, if I may just slip in an additional apology, for I am about to tell you all about our 'heads' on Mariquita. The loo. The dunny. The bogs.

As you may already know, the nautical term for the loo's on boats, the 'heads', comes from the days of large, down-wind sailing ships. The crew were obliged to go all the way forward to the bow sprit (the long pokey-outy stick on the bow of ships and classic boats like ours) to relieve themselves. As this was at the head of the boat, the term for the toilets on a boat stuck and even now they are know as the 'heads'. There were two un-deniable benefits to the loos being there in those times; firstly the ships were mostly down-wind sailing vessels so any smell would drift away from the boat in the following breeze. Handy when you don't have a bottle of Febreeze within reach. Secondly, the natural motion of the water against the hull at the bow of the boat would act as a natural flusher, conveniently washing everything away.

I can't imagine though how depressing your day would have become if you were suffering from a bit of a tummy ache and Mother Nature was throwing a force 8 at you with heavy rain and a massive, rolling sea. That's quite a bidet...

Our crew heads on Mariquita are really quite lovely aesthetically speaking. No, it's not at the bow of the boat or over the open sea as thankfully in this day and age we have the convenience and sophistication of pumps and valves. So although our heads are definitely up forward, they are also behind a nice door, inside. Nice door.

Sea water is still used to flush our Blakes loo though. Flushing the thing after you have 'finished', requires you to pump up and down on the big handle until the bowl has emptied, turn on the tap to let the sea water in and flush with the second little handle. Repeat a few times before you finally turn off the tap. Now this bit is the most important bit to remember. If you forget, the boat will sink. Well, it would take a while but there is always the odd day when a gentle trickling sound is heard from the crew heads and the loo is discovered to be overflowing with, basically, the sea.

So spare a thought, all you house dwelling, simply-push-the-handle folk out there when you next flush. At least you're not committed to your toilet for another 2 to 3 minutes, manually pumping away, with the little added excitement that your responsible for your house not sinking.

I shall leave you with that thought and with some photos of our more historic guest heads (the posh loos), modelled on toilets that were actually used back then in 1911. Yes, that is a lot of polishing to be done but they are beautiful. As heads go.

I couldn't bring myself to follow this one with a recipe I'm afraid. I think it wise just to leave it there.



Cheers!

A Moroccan Crew Lunch in Cornwall

It's been an age since I did a crew lunch recipe. What with all the Queen stuff and the weird Westward Cup, (it was weird and I would rather not do a regatta based on politics and money again) I've been a bit out of sync.

But here we are in Falmouth, Cornwall with a good week or so before the Pendennis regatta which in huge contrast, is the best regatta ever! The Pendennis organisers throw a great event, give the best of Cornish welcomes and have the correct understanding that if it wasn't for us little crew folk, there wouldn't be a regatta because there wouldn't be anybody to sail these great big,  beautiful classic sailing boats. It is the crews who have the skills, the know-how and the passion for it. It is the crews who work incredibly hard, set the tone of the atmosphere, the evening vibe; and boy do they know how to drink. Being a professional sailor often means being a dab hand at the bar too, a skill that merely encompasses all the wonderful traditions and ancient history of a life at sea. Pendennis understands all this and throws a damn fine regatta ensuring boats come back here from far and wide to race again and again.

Bravo!

And back to lunch.

So I made for my hard-working, highly skilled, beer-swilling crew (just kidding - some of us prefer Gin), a little Moroccan number which I always find has a nice lunch-time ring about it. Moroccan is easy enough to make without having to buy one of those expensive Moroccan spice-mixes you get at supermarkets these days. Basically for Moroccan I always work ground cumin, ground coriander, paprika, and cinnamon together. Get some flaked almonds and dried apricots in there somewhere and bish-bash-bosh, you have a Moroccan meal!

Obviously there is a teeny-weeny bit more involved and I have never been to Morocco but I have on more than one occasion considered taking belly-dancing lessons...

However for now I shall give you the recipe for a very easy butternut and chickpea couscous served with a light, fantastically tasty chicken in yoghurt and tahini with mint and lemon. Serve with hot pitta breads and salad and your crew will not go hungry.

Soaks it up too. (Really I'm just kidding, we're not a bunch of piss-heads, we're all highly professional here)

So for a quick and easy Moroccan lunch for 6 you will need;

For the Couscous;
400g couscous
1 butternut squash, chopped into bite sized bits and peeled (which is optional)
1 tin of chicpeas
1 onion, chopped
2 tbsp tomato puree
2 tsp ground cumin
2 tsp ground coriander
1 tsp paprika
1 tsp cinnamon
150g dried apricots, roughly chopped
toasted flaked almonds to garnish
hot chicken stock or water
knob of butter or a dash of olive oil

For the Yoghurt, Tahini and mint chicken you will need;
4-6 chicken breasts
juice of 1 lemon
1 tbsp sesame seeds
1 tbsp black sesame seeds (optional)
1 tbsp yellow mustard seeds (optional)
2-3 small pots of natural yoghurt
2 tbsp mint sauce
zest and juice of 1 lemon
1 tbsp tahini paste (if you don't have this then use peanut butter, yum)
1 clove of fresh garlic, crushed
fresh mint leaves to garnish

Method;

• To begin, pre-heat the oven to gas mark 5, 190C, 375F. Slice each chicken breast into 4-5 pieces and fry in batches in a hot frying pan until very lightly golden but still a bit pink inside. When each batch is done, set aside on a baking tray. When you have browned all the pieces, drizzle over the lemon juice, season well with salt and pepper and sprinkle with the sesame seeds and yellow mustard seeds. Pop into the oven to finish cooking for about 30 minutes.

• In a large non-stick pan saute the onions in a little olive oil for about 5 minutes till translucent and starting to colour gently. Add the chopped butternut, stir fry on high for a few minutes and then cover with a lid. Turn the heat down to low.

• Meanwhile, put the couscous into a big bowl. Pop in the butter or olive oil and a good pinch of salt. pour over the hot chicken stock or boiling water from the kettle to just about cover the couscous and give it all a good stir then put a large plate or cling film over the bowl so that the steam is trapped, cooking the couscous perfectly.

• And whilst the butternut is softening now is also a good time to mix the yoghurt, tahini paste, lemon juice and zest, mint sauce and garlic in a bowl. Season with salt and pepper.

• Check to see if the butternut has cooked. If it has stir in the chic peas, tomato pure and all the spices and season with salt and pepper. Let it have a bit of a sizzle then add about 300 ml hot water from the kettle. Stir and cook this for another few minutes then add the chopped apricots. Continue cooking until the butternut is completely cooked through and the apricots have softened a little. Check the seasoning. At this point I added a tablespoon of mango chutney but that's just me.

• With a fork, fluff up the couscous. Add about two thirds to the butternut and chickpeas and stir to combine. To serve, spoon the last third onto a serving dish and make a well in the centre. Pour the mixed couscous and butternut mixture into the well. Sprinkle with the flaked almonds and some chopped fresh coriander or parsley.

• Once the chicken has cooked, remove from the oven. Let it cool for a few moments  and pour off any excess juices. I kept about 4 to 5 tbsp to add to the yoghurt but ditched the rest.  Once the chicken has cooled off slightly, stir into the yoghurt mixture along with the saved juices. Pour into your chosen serving dish and garnish with lemon wedges and lots of torn fresh mint leaves.

So that might look long but its all pretty straight forward and do-able on a hob. If you don't have the oven just turn the heat down on the chicken when it's in the frying pan and make sure you fry it till its fully cooked. Oh and pop the pittas in the toaster.

A great, easy and filling lunch for a group of hungry people. And fun to try out the spices and go all Moroccan.

Falmouth is great fun, Pasties are so delicious and I must regulate my consumption of them to a max of one a day...

I'll try.

Thanks for reading!

Cheers.

Leaving the Solent and heading for Falmouth