Tag Archives: dolphins

Piedras Negras to the anchorage at Muros

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Dolphins escort Eileen of Avoca

Over the next leg I had a dolphin escort for much of the journey. Rather large dolphins I might add, perhaps it’s all that fertilizer floating in the Rias that’s bred a race of super large and extra cheeky cetaceans. I say extra cheeky because individuals in this pod had developed a new way to amuse themselves by splashing me (without resorting to the blow-hole technique describe in an earlier post).

The trick involves leaping from the water and giving an extra slap of the tail at just the right moment upon reentry to effect an extraordinary large splash . Very sopping amusing…

The ‘Big Brother’ helicopter was at it again today, but it was more interested in a trio of south bound yachts, and only bothered to give me a single flyby.

Approaching the anchorages off Muros, Spain

Approaching Muros, the wind picked up considerably (to its usual two to three times that indicated in the windguru.com forecast). Double reefed, I made excellent time traveling at a brisk 6 knots so I arrived in Muros by mid-afternoon giving me plenty of time to examine its two anchorages.

The one closest the marina (and town) was over (reportedly) foul ground, and at 10 meters, I opted for the shallower eastern side over sand and weed. Here I would have ample scope for my meager 25 meters of anchor chain.

It was a tranquil night and my sleep was only interrupted once when at 5am a crescendo of engine noise, followed by subdued Spanish conversation and culminating in much rattling of my anchor chain, had me frantically reaching for my clothes.

Once suitably attired (yes, I know I have questionable priorities), I ventured on deck to discover a couple of fishermen passing their tiny boat under my anchor chain. Upon seeing me, they explained that they were just getting themselves unstuck from my chain and that there was no need to worry, which I figured was the polite Galician way of saying “you anchored on our fishing net, dimwit”.

Rounding Cape Saint Vincent to Western Portugal

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How to tame boisterous children

Planning was high on my list of priorities as I methodically watched the weather forecasts pending departure. I did not care for a repeat performance of the previous days hair raising port entry. If I wanted to spend my free time surfing, I would have brought a Malibu board to Lagos rather than Eileen of Avoca.

As I waited for easterly winds, I busied myself with some serious relaxing at the beach occasionally burying a locals child to stop “it” running about and making a general mischief. Despite my best efforts, they continued to be a nuisance and even had the gall to find it all rather amusing. Oh well, I’ve never really been that good with kids.

Rounding Cape St. Vincent in calm weather

I’d decided the best way to tackle Cape Vincent was to leave at midday, round the cape during daylight hours and complete the total of slightly less than 80NM to Sines by night. The easterly winds dropped from force 4 to a gentle 1 and 2 overnight and while the sea maintained a significant swell, Cape Vincent came and went as an anticlimax.

Sprayed by dolphins

Dolphins escorted me for much of the journey, and their company was mostly appreciated, the exception being when a particularly cheeky individual would “sneak up” alongside Eileen and enthusiastically shock me awake with a spout of fishy smelling water. Who would have though dolphins had a sadistic sense of humour. I like them more and more each day! 😉

Aside from scaring the living daylights out of me by catching me unaware with their playful nocturnal antics, they effectively made sure I wasn’t going to catch any fish for supper.

I optimistically trolled with a brown lure (holding my newly acquired blue one in reserve), until at about midnight it was lost. to either:

a) the biggest fish I’d ever hooked (the dolphins at this point had vanished), or more likely;

b), a fisherman’ pot (even though I was at the 100m depth contour).

I’m newly resolved to fishing at night only when more than 10 miles off the coast.

At dawn I motored into the lovely little anchorage off the beach in Sines and set to work composing an opus in snore major.

Anchorage at Sines beach Portugal

Nice to Calvi

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Calvi

Calvi

Only twenty hours if I could keep an average of 5kt. The swell outside the harbour was very uncomfortable and for the first 4 hours Eileen of Avoca rolled heavily on a heading of 135°.

I gave Eva a couple of Sturgeon tablets and sent her to bed as she was not feeling well and readied myself for what was effectively if not technically a solo crossing.

After traveling 35NM I could no longer make out the city lights to the north. Left in splendid isolation on a moonless night, I motor-sailed, double reefed for hours on end. Much later that night, as I sat huddled by the companionway to keep out of the dew, the sea calmed considerably. Apart from having to dodge the occasional ship there was little to do and despite my best efforts I was beginning to feel very tired.

Just at the point where I felt I could easily doze off, a great splash wrenched me from my stupor. Wide awake I looked to port and stood amazed as three dolphins leapt from Eileen’s bow-wave with enviable agility. Wow!
The moon rose just before dawn and the remaining hours passed without event. By 16:00 I was approaching the port of Calvi. Our little holiday was over.
Well, at least until September the 22nd when I intend to take Eileen of Avoca to Sardinia. 🙂