Collecting more travel companions along the way!

The crew of Yayou

Meet André and Jean-Noel in “Yayo”, on their way to the south of France in a brand new Bi-Loup 36.

Frederic and I met them in Ribadeo while waiting on yet another monster low pressure cell to pass and now our southbound flotilla has acquired new members. Give us a few more weeks of bad weather and we’ll build an armada!

I imagine we’re holding back our new found friends, especially when considering that their vessel motors along comfortably at 7 knots (compared with my sluggish 4.5 and Frederic’s 4), but I guess it’s always reassuring to be at sea with other yachts.

Monster low pressure system approches Biscay

I like to think they have joined the party because we’re exceptional company, but I’d better not get too carried away into the realms of fantasy. It probably has more to do with their not having a laptop on board. Anyone who relies solely on dated notices posted at the marina office for weather forecasts is a braver man than I am…..

Mind you, there are certain advantages to remaining blissfully ignorant of what’s brewing out in the Atlantic of late (see picture). If you don’t see it, you certainly don’t worry about it. Maybe there is a market out there for anti-panic blindfolds. Seems to work well enough with a firing squad. 😉

Vivero, Spain

But enough of this weather obsession, I’m probably boring my audience of 3 to death by now. Sailors can be worse than farmers once they warm to the topic. Let me tell you about Vivero instead.

Apart from the breaking 4 meter swell threatening to swamp us leaving Ribadeo, the 30 mile trip motoring to Vivero was a trifle dull. However, we’ve now caught up with a whole gaggle of stranded southbound yachtsmen and it couldn’t be more social. Music and celebration continues well into the night much to the distress of the only German flagged vessel (not that I have anything against Germans). Funny how there always has to be at least one party pooper in the group. 🙂

Locals in Ribadeo have advised against rounding Cabo Ortegal when a 6 meter swell is running, and it seems the fleet of transients sheltering here have been similarly advised. Never mind, we’re certinly making the most of our extended stay.

Staff at Fragata Cafe

It’s not such a bad place to be stranded. Facilities at the marina aren’t the greatest but at least there is a little more life in town.

Word is the best place to hang out is a cafe called Fragata, and with free WiFi and tapas with your drinks, what more could an avid blogger want?

Besides, just look at the friendly staff!

Wind gusts reach 40kts on route to Ribadeo

No I'm not sinking

It should have been an easy 40 miles to Ribadeo from Cudillero. It certainly started out as an effortless motor-sail, but I should have known better than to completely trust weather forecasts.

With just 9 miles to go the wind made a surprise shift to the southwest and brought gusts averaging between 30 and 40 knots!

Luckily I had just finished tying a third reef in the mainsail to facilitate hauling in my catch of the day (a rather large bonito).

My friends in Avel Vat (which I’m told means fair winds in the Breton language) had motored ahead while I was busy playing psychotic killer with my fish.

Fish soup anyone?

Seeing that I was no longer making significant headway, they turned back to check if I was in some kind of trouble. Admittedly I was up to my elbows in blood and intestines at the time but other than that I was doing just fine. So long as none of the blood is mine I’m happy enough.

I feel much obliged by Frederic’s obvious concern, but he needn’t have been worried. I was having the time of my life! I held up my trophy to show why I’d fallen behind before plowing dutifully onward through an increasingly agitated sea.

Frederic took the following video of Eileen (or Eilen as he calls her) as we motored on into the wind at a pitiful 2 knots.


Eileen of Avoca in Biscay

Bedraggled and cold, we finally reached our destination. It certainly wasn’t easy. Who would have thought it could take nearly 5 hours to travel just 9 miles.

Safely moored, I quickly set about cooking my prize catch and before long an impromptu ‘bonito’ feast was prepared to celebrate our arrival.

Real sailors sew!

In port it was time to relax and catch up on some odd jobs. Frederic and I set about playing harbour haberdasher, while Vivien busied himself with conquering the world on his Nintendo DS.

Vivien is in there somewhere

There wasn’t much time to play tourist, but I did manage to take a few photos of my stay in Ribadeo. Enjoy!

Ribadeo marina

The marina is not as sheltered as it looks. Eileen has been violently tugging at her warps for days as the surge works its way around the breakwater.

The eyesore of Ribadeo

Not only is it ugly but it smells too! I’d have expected to see dozens of would be rock climbers doing their thing all over this elevator. Instead it seems to be used by local drunks emptying their thing all over it. phew!

Ribadeo town center

But it’s pretty enough in town though surprisingly uninhabited. Only one in three houses seems to have anyone living in it. See for yourself!

Empty houses in Ribadeo

Carino, Ribadeo and on to Gijon

Overtaken by the Dutch

The forecast swell was under 1.5m for the next three days so I made good progress under power despite frequent showers and little wind. At least the fishing was good, withing 30 minutes of leaving the marina I had already hooked another Bonito!

This very patriotic racer (judging from the size of his ensign), overtook me just 15 miles out from La Coruna despite my liberal use of the iron topsail.

At just under 45 nautical miles, and traveling at 4.5kts, I reached my first stop at the anchorage in Carino well before dark and spent the night rolling about despite the relatively benign conditions.

The rolling itself doesn’t really bother me, but the washboards and the companionway steps tend to creak when Eileen sways from side to side, and this together with the thumping of the rudder as it shifts in its fastenings tends to irritate me after the first few hours of sleep deprivation.

Anchorage off Carino, Northern Spain

Carino has a pontoon with small fingers, but I couldn’t be bothered to make my way through all the moorings to get there, or dig out my fenders for that matter. A larger boat should not even consider berthing there.

In the morning mist and drizzle I made my way to what must be the northern most headland of Spain, Punta Estaca de Bares, and set my course for Ribadeo, covering approximately 45NM (motor sailing) by late afternoon.

Wet ride in a J-boat

I found myself moored next to the same Dutch racer (a J-boat) that had overtaken me leaving La Coruna, and judging from the foul weather gear hanging out to dry, they had had a very wet ride. Smugly dry, I made my traditional offering of fish pate (this time mixed with avocado), and we sat down to exchange travel adventures over drinks.

I didn’t really get to see much of Ribadeo, which is a shame because from what I’ve read it’s a picturesque town. But at the time I had more pressing concerns. I’d forgotten to return my gate/shower key before the office closed and that meant I’d have a late start (if I wanted my deposit back) for my next and longest leg to Gijon (almost 70NM away).

Resigned to arriving well after dark, I set a relaxed pace (still motor sailing), and passed the time solving complex algebraic equations…

If you believe that last remark, I have some fine real estate for sale in Nigeria… 🙂 The only algebra I do while cruising is something along the lines of: If x=relaxing, and z=sleep find y… hmmm y bother about it…

I spend most of my time just watching the world go by and daydreaming. 🙂

Rope caught on the propeller

Obviously not much happened on this leg. Apart from a 30 second skinny dip to remove another propeller entanglement, which I don’t really mind doing provided the sea is relatively tranquil. Mind you, I do dread the day it happens at night and in boisterous seas.

The toughest part of this passage was rounding Cabo Penas at sunset. I had to battle a west flowing current in freshening Force 5 north easterlies. At just 1.5kts SOG, it took quite a while. It even prompted a looking over by the Aduanas (customs) boat. I gave them a wave and they left me to continue my game of hobby horse around the cape.

My approach to Gijon was also somewhat noteworthy. My hand-held GPS plotter didn’t show a newly built breakwater which obscured half the lights off Banco las Amosucas and the inner breakwater. Adding to the confusion were a series of green lights that would flash and then turn red. What kind of sectored lights do that when I’m simply maintaining my course? The answer? Pedestrian traffic lights that just happen to be on the recommended track to the marina.

Never mind… I still made it to the visitors pontoon (by 1:30am), which was just in time to have a celebratory drink at one of the numerous waterfront nightclubs. My 30 minutes of nightlife at the Habana club left my ears ringing and did much to renew my latent agoraphobic tendencies.