Weighing anchor at 8:00, I motored with the ebb past Aveiro’s breakwater with its dangerous (in heavy seas) and turbulent washing machine like entrance, heading for the 20m depth contour in search of calmer conditions.
As I ambled north in peaceful contemplation, a loud buzzing interrupted my daydreaming. I just had time to sit up and look about when a red rigid inflatable whizzed past (withing a few meters) Eileen’s stern, at what can only be described as tremendous speed.
It was the rescue RIB from Aveiro.
I waved to it’s two helmeted crew as they bounced along like rag dolls. They waved back (quite a feat when you think about it), and then sped off to continue their bone jarring ride elsewhere. It all happened so fast, I didn’t even have time to take out my camera for a blog snapshot. 🙁
Oh, and despite my best efforts (getting up at 7am for starters), to beat my new 3-day-friend’s boat to the next port (Leixoes), I was overtaken with just five miles to go. Drat! I must be the slowest yacht in Portugal.
The port of Leixoes was a convenient stopover for my whirlwind tour of Porto. I caught the fancy new metro to town, took the compulsory tourist photos of random buildings, bought a bottle of Porto and an amusing souvenir, then raced back to get some sleep.
What more should I have done in Porto?