Upon rounding Cape Finisterre or Promunturium Nerium as the Romans called it (for the Latin buffs), I found myself motoring on a tranquil sea with light variable winds, thoroughly surrounded by FOG!!!
With my radar detector buzzing a stream of constant warnings, I desperately rummaged through mounds of safety gear to find my ‘never before used’ aerosol fog horn.
Seizing the can of noise just as a fishing vessel materialized from the mist, I gave the big red button a serious push, only to have the blasted contraption squeak once (and rather feebly at that) before turning mute.
Despite liberal application of several unimaginative expletives, my efforts to ‘blow my own horn’ came to naught, though I probably needn’t have worried, anyone within a mile of Eileen would surely have heard my ravings. 😉
The fog was so much fun, I took a photo of it as a keepsake. Voila!
By midday the mist lifted and eight happy uneventful hours later, I was within sight of the “Tower of Hercules”, the only ancient Roman lighthouse still in use today. Not long afterward I was safely tied to the visitors berth at La Coruna rolling with the other boats in the wash from the constant comings and goings of the pilot boat.