The infamous Cape Finisterre and on to Bayona

Cape Finisterre in October

Camarinas was a just a ‘sleep stop’ but it was here that we said our tentative goodbyes to the crew of ‘Yayou’ as they pushed on towards Porto at an unsavory hour. I state “tentative goodbyes”, because we may yet catch up with Andre further south.

Another Bonito for supper

The rest of us rugged up for a 9am departure and set off in a chilly Force 5. As luck would have it, upon reaching the infamous Cape Finisterre, Aeolus let up on his puffing. The sea rapidly calmed, and we were able to motor to within a cable of the headland. What followed was a once in a life-time ‘hey mum, look at me’ photo-shoot, sailing between the mainland and Finisterre’s little island. The local fishermen must have thought we’d gone completely loco.

Fish feast (German family centre)

On route I managed to catch another whopper of a bonito, so after anchoring off a lovely beach in Muros, I set about preparing the catch of the day. Much too much fish for one person, so the usual crowd gathered on ‘Avel Vat’ and we invited everyone else at the anchorage (just one German registered vessel) to join us for a fish feast.

Force 6 with gusts of Force 7 the following morning had me scrambling to put in one reef after another. It took quite a while to find a sail combination Eileen appreciated, but when we’d reached three reefs for the mainsail and set a whisker pole on the stay-sail she settled down. Eileen of Avoca managed to glide effortlessly at 6 knots under this sail arrangement! Not too shabby for a little 23ft boat.

Life vest inflates!

Unfortunately the wind did not last, and now that we have reached Bayona the forecast is for more dead calms. Looks like I will be using the motor generously over the next few days.

Despite the novel easy-going conditions I’ve still managed to get into all sorts of trouble. The latest incident involved getting the inflation cord of my life vest stuck while lowering the mainsail.

Now that it has been unexpectedly inflated, the vest is almost useless until I can find a replacement CO2 cartridge and have the zippers reset. Naturally the type of cartridge I need is about as common as 23ft boats crossing the Atlantic!

The one that got away!

La Coruna, Spain

On my way to La Coruna from Vivero I hooked the monster of all fish… It was all terribly exciting! But despite a prayer to the effect that I would be ever so obliged to land this catch, and a promise to put the kill to good use feeding ‘one and all’ at the marina, my pious appeal had no obvious effect (perhaps it lacked sincerity, as I was more concerned about feeding myself than the nebulous ‘one and all’).

Anyway, after almost half an hour of determined struggle with this Spanish leviathan, the scaly beast won free. Grrr!

In my defense it was the fishing hook rather than the line that gave way, but I shall not hide behind such feeble excuses. It’s now just my minor footnote in the dusty annals devoted to fisherman’s tales of ‘the one that got away’.

Since I’ve already had my say on La Coruna when traveling north earlier this year, I’ll only mention that I stayed at another marina this time (the one under the fancy habour tower) and that it gets my thumbs up. No more rolling about all night while berthed.

The showers are also notable, but so popular you have to wade through them in a perpetual sultry haze. Frankly, taking showers in the company of strangers at marinas, wondering what exotic mold might be lurking underfoot, isn’t really my idea of a good time. Yes, I’m both shy and paranoid, but Turkish baths, the Jacuzzi or saunas are simply not my thing! I’d rather go swimming in the sea, but preferably when it’s warm.

Andre takes a swim beside his pride and joy!

Speaking of which, I had my first swim (in a wet suit) of the season while moored at La Coruna today. Our friends in “Yayou” had caught on some rope on route and I reluctantly volunteered to play clear the propeller for them.

Andre was a real gentleman. Ill at ease with sending me to do his dirty work, he insisted on accompanying me for a dip as official photographer. I’m always happy to be of help and expect little or nothing for my efforts, so when given a collection of fine wines as a token of appreciation, I was simply flabbergasted.

Dear Andre, I will enthusiastically toast your health when I open them in Brazil.