Tag Archives: Spain

The one that got away!

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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.

Collecting more travel companions along the way!

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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!

I’ve reached La Coruna!

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Fog off Cape Finisterre

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.

An anchorage off the beach at Finisterre

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Beach anchorage at Finisterre

I was not going to round Finisterre with north to northwest winds (from Force 4 to 6), so I only motored as far as the headland for a peek at the conditions (in a word… ugly), before turning to plan A and making for the beach anchorage northeast of the town.

Provided there isn’t too much roll, and the wind doesn’t shift so that you end up in surf, I’ve come to enjoy staying at beach anchorages. They can be so easy! You just approach the shoreline until you arrive at your desired anchoring depth (5 to 6m for me), and drop your hook in the clean white sand. No fenders to tie, no rocks to rub up against your hull, and no weed to reek havoc with your anchors holding ability. Bliss! As an added bonus you get to ‘people watch’ landlubbers for your afternoons entertainment.

Dawn at Finisterre anchorage

The port of Finisterre has virtually no room for a visiting yacht, but the anchorage served quite satisfactorily for my overnight stay as the winds died down to Force 1 and the seas settled. Just as predicted in the weather forecasts… What a novelty!

Rising at dawn, I photographed the French yacht that had come to share “my” beach retreat before joining the rush of fishing vessels heading for the cape.

Sailing from Leixoes to Bayona, Spain

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Polluted waters in Spanish Rias

Leixoes turned out to be my last port of call in Portugal. I had originally intended to stop in Viana do Castelo but changed my mind on route as the weather was so enjoyable.

Not so pleasant was the amount of pollution in the water. Large patches of sea along the coast here, can only be described as truly repulsive. I was beginning to wonder whether my cooling system might clog motoring through this soup of effluent discharge!

What is this odd vessel?

I passed the time trimming sails that didn’t need trimming, rigging a boom keeper just for the practice and watching odd ships pass by. The one pictured here wins the prize for “oddest vessel of the day”. Goodness knows what sort of ship it is. If anyone knows, feel free to enlighten me. Fortunately there was little in the way of swell, because it certainly didn’t look very seaworthy.

Arriving in Bayona at dusk, I thought to anchor for the night. Unfortunately the anchorages marked on my charts turned out to be occupied by private moorings. I only discovered the next day that picking up a buoy for the night would have been fine. As it was, I took the advice (shouted by an English crew) that “this marina is cheap”, and took an outer berth at the Monterreal Club de Yates (at the foot of Bayona’s castle) for the night.

View from marina, Bayona Spain

The following morning, as I sat at the marina cafe admiring the view from the fortifications which included the replica of Columbus’ ship the Pinta berthed nearby, I satisfied myself that English dry humour and the 16 Euro a night fee were not so acerbic. 😉

Chipiona to Mazagon

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Boarded by customs

I left Chipiona in mild weather, so it came as quite a surprise to find myself thoroughly tossed about in the muddy tidal ebb of the Guadalquivir river. As I crossed the line drawn by a sea colour change, the conditions settled and I enjoyed a trouble free ride all the way to Mazagaon, (a little less that 40NM to the northwest).

On route, my lucky blue lure caught me another free meal. Five miles from my destination, when I had just finished cleaning this latest windfall, I was taken aback when intercepted and boarded by Spanish customs.

My concern was that they might impose some sort of penalty as I belatedly wondered whether there might be size limits on tuna catches for these waters. I had heard horror stories of cruisers being fined several thousand Euro for catching octopus (apparently protected in some areas), and perhaps I’d fall victim to some obscure regulation of which I was totally unaware.

Friendly customs officers

As the customs vessel approached they indicated that they would come alongside, so I took out several fenders from the push-pit lockers and simultaneously stowed my questionable catch.

I needn’t have worried, while one officer sat (on the locker hiding my catch) reviewing my boat documentation, the other helped me decide which ports I should visit on my future travels along the Portuguese coast. They were very pleasant company and even posed for a couple of snapshots.

Snug at my assigned berth in Mazagon I set about the serious business of preparing my hidden treasure. Seared in very hot olive oil with a few bay leaves and served with sliced avocado, mayonnaise and a dash of pepper. A true delight.

Tuna steaks with avocado

It’s days like this that make me truly appreciate the cruising lifestyle. As I enjoyed an accompanying glass of white wine my only regret was that I had nobody with which to share the moment. My consolation however, was that there was a second helping of fried tuna to be had. 🙂

The accidental wind intruments of Chipiona

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Chipiona at high tide

Keeping the obligatory two miles from the coast, I motored the 17NM from Rota to Chipiona in calm seas with Force 1 to 2 winds. Unfortunately, the gentle breeze was short lived and for the next three days I found myself weather bound. It seems I only ever get to play tourist in bad weather!

Chipiona is an interesting town and the days passed relatively quickly. Apparently it’s population of about 20,000 triples in the summer as Spanish tourists flock from Sevilla on mass, to enjoy the beach life (though it’s more like rock life when the tide is out). Not that this migratory phenomenon was evident in March.

The center has plenty of shops and restaurants, a pleasant seaside promenade and a few architecturally interesting buildings, but what really captured my imagination was the haunting sound coming from what must be one of the most unusual accidental wind instruments I’ve ever heard.

It took me a considerable amount of time to identify the source of the towns pervading and eerily haunting music, but I finally narrowed it down by the tedious process of elimination, to the resonating of a steel railing running the length of the foreshore. How bizarre! I bet that was also what the locals were thinking of me as I set my ear to a number of unlikely candidates in the course of my auditory investigation.

Wintering in Almerimar, Spain

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Well I didn’t expect to get stuck in the south of Spain for the winter, but there is no point pursuing a planned itinerary when the weather is so disagreeable. I’ll just have to be fatalistic (quid erit, erit …) and accept that I wont be moving until Poseidon wills it.

My plans must change. Fortunately I have no time limit and few commitments, so it’s easily done.
Crossing the Atlantic will now wait until the 2010-11 season. The new plan has me sailing along the Atlantic coast back to Yarmouth on the Isle of Wight where Eileen was built before heading south for the usual jump-off points.

This opens plenty of new possibilities for interesting cruising in Portugal and the west coast of France. I’ll be able to catch up with other Yarmouth23 owners and finally have some quality work carried out on Eileen of Avoca before heading further afield. I’ve not had the greatest success with yards in Italy, Greece or Spain.

For the moment I’ll play the wintering in Spain game and catch up on what boat maintenance I can carry out while afloat. Yay! 🙂