Lagos, Algarve. 1st November 2006

Yep we have finally made the Algarve in the south of Portugal. On the whole the trip has been a good one but we have had to duck and dive from un-typical weather systems from across the Atlantic. Cascais saw us holed up for 3 weeks sheltering from 5.5m swells and winds from the south to south west up to force 8 or more. The wind should be North and force 3 but there we go.
The trip from Cascais was a fantastic sail for the first 20 miles but then the wind went through 180 degrees, then another 180 degrees 10 mins later, and then to nothing - meaning a motor in little wind to Sines.

Sines
Sines is a pleasant old, small town with a big port and oil refinery as well as a well set up and very modern , clean marina and comfortable anchorage beside the marina. We stayed only one night as more poor weather was expected to make the marina and anchorage uncomfortable and the trip south impossible, which could result in a reverse trip back to Cascais , some 60 miles and not one we wanted to repeat. We did have time to indulge our favourite pastime and search out a local restaurant for a simple lunch. The menu consisting of BBQ Chicken or Bacalau, a re-hydrated dried cod found all around Portugal. We opted for the chicken, as the smells of it grilling on open coals in the front window had first tickled our taste buds. The restaurant had 3 long benches at which were placed stools and paper place mats. Ordering was by calling over to the owner /cook and saying Frango ( chicken). A delightful and tasty chicken and chips accompanied by a generous green and tomato salad, ¾ l carafe of wine 1 beer , two coffees and a delicious pudim flam. Total cost 17 euros for the two of us, about 12 pounds. We left Sines harbour at 10pm the following night for the trip 75 miles south to the Cabo SaoVicente (Cape St Vincent) and around the corner to Lagos and the Algarve coast. We sailed in the company of an Irish yacht “ Noble Warrior” . This was his 3rd attempt to round the cape as he had twice met 35 and 48 knot headwinds on the headland and been forced to sail the 60 miles back to Sines- all this single handed. The trip was to be a night motor to the cape and a rounding in early morning before the wind could get thermal assistance and hopefully an easier rounding would be had. This is one of the first night trips we have attempted on the Portuguese coast due to the huge numbers of nets and pots encountered along this unforgiving coast. One and a half hours out into the night and we got a call from Paul on Noble Warrior to say his engine had overheated and stopped. We rounded back and stood by ready to tow him back to port but he was able to establish the cause and after about an hour we were back on our way.
The night was completely calm and partially cloudy but the moon had gone down and it was quite dark indeed. This was a bonus as at about 2 am we got dolphins. Dolphins in the day are great but dolphins in the dark are spectacular. Brilliant green underwater torpedoes coming from left and right straight at the boat, then a jump and a green splash and on the bow and along the sides of the boat they play, squeaking and leaping and demonstrating the agility and speed they possess. I think dolphins take to bow riding (playing in the pressure wave of the boat) like humans take to skiing. We had their company for a good hour when suddenly thud, graunch. The engine slams to a stop, alarms buzzing at ear piercing frequency and we are all alone in the black inky Atlantic. A glance with a torch soon identified the problem as a large piece of old discarded trawler net. I know fishermen live a tough and dangerous life but they take life from the sea and leave rubbish in their wake. I am afraid I have yet to see a fishing harbour that is not polluted with polystyrene, plastic bags and of course rope and nets.
It left us in a situation far from perfect, 35 miles south of the nearest port, 7 miles off the Atlantic coast with no engine and no wind to sail even if we could make any way with a large piece of fishing net firmly attached to our prop. We inflated and launched the dingy and using boathook and cutter we attempted to try to cut the net loose but in the dark and from the dingy it was a futile task so we tied the trailing ends of the net to ropes and pulled them as high up the side of the boat as possible to reduce the drag and accepted the kind offer of a tow from Paul on Noble Warrior. Time now 5am and Steph took the helm under tow and I tried to get some rest. I knew I needed to dive as soon as possible as we could only make about 3.5 knots and there was no guarantee that we were not going to see 30 knots of wind on the nose at the cape. I didn’t want to be under tow back north after all this. As soon as it was dawn we dropped the tow and lay out the drogue from the bow to stabilise the boat as much as possible then donned a wetsuit and scuba gear. Safety line attached and bicycle helmet on head I went under the boat armed with the bread knife which I had found was the quickest knife at cutting through the net.
Fortunately the waves were still very small so the boat remained relatively steady and the underwater operations were completed in about 10 minutes. I was pleased to be out though.

The prop free we hauled the dingy back on deck and tentatively fired up the engine, all seemed ok and I could only detect a slight vibration which would hopefully suggest that not too much damage is done but time will tell on the bearings. Another dive will be necessary as a precaution and further check. The rest of the trip was uneventful except for more dolphins and some stunning views of the cape. There was one particular dolphin, we named slapper, as he seemed to enjoy jumping and landing on his side to create the biggest possible splash of water. Either he had something wrong with him, or he was demonstrating his particular trick to impress us.

Fortunately the wind was kind despite our late arrival and we had a very pleasant sail from the cape to Lagos, along a pretty coast, not unlike the Dorset coast around Poole to St Albans head.  Looking at the photos you may wonder what the fuss is about, but a 15m yacht arriving 2 days prior to this was surfing down 2m waves into the narrow harbour entrance!

Cape St Vincent

Lagos
We were met on the pontoon by enthusiastic English liveaboards. Lagos is a large marina with a considerable English liveaboard community. They have their own net, (radio news and assistance session) 3 times a week on the VHF where help finding services, spares or medical assistance is available. Also you can learn about the bridge evenings and card-making lessons – can’t wait!

Day one and a good part of day two have been swallowed by cleaning the boat - outside and inside. The three weeks in Cascais where the spray from the massive waves continually poured over the harbour wall has covered the boat in salt and muck which feels sticky and never really dries. It gets inside the boat and then it feels damp so a good clean is a necessary evil.

After working all day, we had a few beers and a great pizza with a Swedish couple on a similar trip to us, so got up a bit late this morning. Here we are enjoying the rain again. It’s due to get better and despite the squalls it’s still in the early to mid 20s so still in shorts and t shirts. Life’s not so bad really!!

We also celebrated by dumping the fishing net in the commercial waste bins – where it should have gone in the first place!

The net we removed from our prop!

The liveaboards have organised a ‘cruising symposium’ next Wednesday, so we may well hang around here for that. Between all the boats moored in this marina, they have probably covered much of the world, so we can hope to pick up on some advice about where to go and more importantly where not to go………it’s all too easy just to tie up here and not leave until the spring!!! Before we know it we’ll be going to bridge lessons!!!


If anyone would like to come and visit us while we are in the Algarve, it is an ideal time to do so. Flights to Faro are very cheap, and there is a railway line that runs along the coastal resorts with a train every hour. The water here is still 22 degrees and the sun is out today – it’s about 24 degrees. Maybe the perfect antidote to overnight frosts and winter gales.
(November 06)

North Portugal, September 2006

Basilica, Viano de Castello, Portugal

Weird to arrive in a country where neither of us speak or understand the lingo. We were told that it doesn’t matter as everyone speaks English here, but the first person to greet us, was a customs man who didn’t! In Portugal you have to clear customs and immigration at every port, even if you come from the EU and even though you have come from another Portuguese port. We were met on the pontoon and he indicated that we should go with great haste to the office and present our papers (insurance, passports, registration), which we did as soon as we had tied up.
Viana is a tiny harbour with nowhere to anchor so we were pleased that we hadn’t sat out hurricane Gordon here. We went aboard our neighbours boat – Moonya, for a couple of drinks and they ended up sharing their dinner with us(including freshly baked bread). Tracy and Paul only took up sailing 14 months ago and have bravely set off in their Moody 42 to learn as they go along. Unfortunately they had been in Muros with no forecast just as Gordon was approaching and despite laying all their chain out, they started to drag their anchor. After motoring for an hour or so to keep his position and making no headway into the 80 mile/hour winds the engine overheated and they dragged onto the mud. Luckily they went aground at low water, and floated off without incident once the wind abated and the tide came in. They haven’t been put off sailing yet!

There is an imposing basilica at the top of about 600 steps, which beckoned us for exercise the next day. There was a clear bright blue sky, so it was a hot and sweaty climb, but well worth it for the views out over the town and coast.
Gazing south along the coast, we remembered that we had to put some more miles in to get ahead of the autumnal weather, so we scooted back down the steps and through the town and set off in the afternoon without doing justice to the other sights in Viana.

We left the marina in bright sunshine as the whole morning had been but before the harbour entrance (1/2 mile) the fog suddenly closed in. We couldn’t see the channel markers or the harbour wall. Radar is a god-send in this situation and we were able to extricate ourselves into open water but the hope of much improvement shortly was halted by a radio call to a friend’s yacht ½ hour ahead. Visibility had improved to 1-200 yards. Entering ports in this visibility is not enjoyable so we pressed on and were rewarded with clear air later and even some downwind sailing until the wind failed and the iron sails were out again.


Leixoes, Porto, Regua, 26th September
We had been warned that Leixoes was not a nice port and that being next to the docks and the oil refinery, it certainly lacked charm and cleaniness. The swell manages to come right around the corner into the marina at all times, making the ropes squeek and graunch constantly. Had we known what we know now, we would have stopped at Povoa de Varzim, which is a new marina, albeit with a difficult entrance in swell. Porto’s super-duper new tram line has been extended all the way to Povoa now, and is a quick and easy way to visit the city.
We visited Leixoes (as do most cruisers) as a means to see Porto. This involves a bus journey of 1 hour , or bus 10 minutes, then tram 30 minutes to the city centre.
Porto is a fascinating city tumbling down the sides of the hill to the river Duoro, showing considerable wealth and poverty side by side. After a cheap meal on the waterside we set off across the bridge to Vila Nova de Gaia to survey the port wine lodges. We chose to visit Rozes, and a French man gave us a free tour of the lodge and five samples of port.
We purchased a tawny and went in search of another tour to see the differences. Kopke was not such an interesting tour, but we still enjoyed some more samples.
Feeling overheated, dehydrated and pickled we stumbled back to the bus to return to the gently swaying boat.

Porto river

The forecast was rapidly deteriorating again, so we prepared for a stay of a few days, doing touristy things. Not only do the winds kick up a big sea here, but these waves make entry to many of the ports difficult, dangerous or impossible. The ports are about 60 miles apart- a 12 hour journey, equivalent to crossing the English Channel. We prefer to travel in daylight due to the abundance of pots and fishing nets laid out with barely visible marker flags. This gives us a narrow window of opportunity, as the days are shorter this late on in the season. We were constantly assured by other cruisers that we were not particularly late to travel this part of the coast, but it is not an easy coast-line to traverse.
Each time we want to move on we have to wait for wind, swell, fog and rain to clear, and have 12 hours of daylight for each trip!

The highlight of our stay near Porto, was a daytrip up the Douro valley by train. As you ascend slowly to Regua, the trainline follows the path of the river, and the scenery becomes increasing green and terraced, as you enter the wine growing regions that provide the grapes for the port wine. (Portugal is the 6th largest wine producing country in the world- where does it all go?! ) As we arrived a Regua, we found a steam train preparing to leave the station. After a couple of enquiries we procured a ticket to travel further up the valley on this train to Tua, and return an hour later. It was a fabulous trip, made in old wooden carriages pulled by the 1926 steam locomotive, and accompanied by Portuguese music and dancing. We were totally unprepared for the soot and dirt though – we were served a tiny meat sandwich and one glass of port on the trip, the glass rapidly filled with so much dirt that it was undrinkable.
We arrived back in Regua 2 hours later, absolutely covered in tiny black specks and a greasy black film. As the marina only had hot water 50% of the time in the showers- we were really in luck that day, and enjoyed hot showers back at the boat. The next day was spent washing our clothes from the day before!

Sooty Port

Tiles at the railway station

The low point of the stay was a trauma for all of the cruisers there. Late one night, in about 30 knots of wind, a 36’ Spanish sailing yacht hit the rocks on the outer rocks of the port. We heard the noise of a helicopter searching among the waves crashing on the rocks. At first we didn’t know what was going on, so we walked around the corner to the beach, where a few people had gathered, now 1am. The boat was already completely broken up on the beach, just tanks and pieces of GRP and wood, no larger than 1m bits – the police trying to find something to identify the boat.
By the morning they had only found 1 of the 2 bodies. No-one seemed to be able to say what had happened. It seems unlikely in this day and age, that the skipper would have misjudged the entrance, and with GPS it’s unlikely that they didn’t know where they were. There is a big question mark as to whether there was a Mayday call, and if so, whether the Portuguese authorities responded to it. It was certainly a sobering experience, and cast an even gloomier mood over all of us holed up in the marina.
The following night a Norwegian yacht called up for help with a tow into the port, as their engine was out of action, and there was not enough wind to sail. As the swell was still significant, we didn’t feel that it was safe for them to drift towards the entrance, and suggested they contact port control for assistance. The response by port control was somewhat reluctant, but eventually they dispatched a pilot boat to tow them in. The rope provided by the pilot boat snapped – in no wind, towing a 30’ yacht!
It’s a story that we have heard reported by other yachts this year – engine immobilised by fishing nets and calling for help, another yacht virtually outside another port found that no-one responded to their pan-pan at 3am. They were unable to contact anyone for a tow until 7am!  We towed a German yacht into Cascais marina that was waiting for parts for his engine to arrive, with rapidly deteriorating weather conditions. The marina are ‘not allowed’ to undertake a tow outside of the marina, and the maritime police will only assist if life is in danger!!
We forget how fortunate we are in the UK to have a reliable coastguard, and the RNLI, and a 24 hour listening watch on VHF. It just goes to show that you really have to be self reliant in this area, as no doubt in many other parts of the world. Somehow in the EU we expect something more, particularly as there is always a glut of officials at every port 24 hours a day to routinely check the papers of every single boat (including the Portuguese ones) at the end of every trip. We will be very happy to put this Atlantic coast behind us, and it just goes to show how much safer ocean sailing is, as all these problems occur where water meets land!


Figuera da Foz     4th October
Finally escaped from the depression of Leixoes marina, we motored at full speed for 11½ hours to arrive at dusk. Nice marina, and facilities, but we took advantage of a second day of good weather to press on south.

Nazare. Batahla, Alcobaca - 6th October
At last a sunny force 4 westerly wind restored our spirits and we arrived in Nazare, a tiny port with a couple of pontoons nestled among the fishing boats. We arrived at dusk, and had barely tied the boat alongside when we were summoned to the offices of the policia maritime. There were at least 3 of them there busily employed in watching television. After completing the required form, we were directed up the road, about 150m to a hut where we could collect a security pass to access the pontoon that we had just left. Again we trundled along, to fill in another form, and pay 20 euros deposit before we could return to our boat. The harbour office was not open until the next day – it is run by an enthusiastic and helpful English couple, but is not involved in taking money for berthing or dealing with the official side of the business. There is a huge pile of books available for swapping and they helpfully provided us with bus timetables to visit nearby Batahla and Alcabaca, which we did in a one day round trip.
Batalha (Battle abbey) was built to commemorate the victory of the Portuguese (assisted by English longbowmen) over the Spain invasion in 1385. The abbey contains the tomb of Prince Henry the Navigator who guided ships in the discovery of Maderia and the Azores. We hoped that some of his navigational prowess might rub off.

Alcobaca is the home of a vast Cistercian monastery founded in 1153. The monastery was apparently reknowned for its hospitality and generosity, decadence and ‘gormandizing…..fumes of banquets and incense…..fat waddling monks’.
The kitchen of the monastery has vast chimneys and marble tables. A stream still runs through the kitchen, ensuring a supply of the freshest fish in its day. The monks were only allowed access to the refectory via a tiny slim door – if they were too fat to pass through, they had to fast until they could hold in their tummies enough to squeeze through the gap. Stuart took up the challenge – see for yourselves!

The trout river runs through the kitchen

The kitchen tables

Will he fit or should he diet?

After delaying our departure for another day due to fog, we spent the day up in the old town of Sitio teetering dangerously out literally over cliffs worn away by the forces of nature, above Nazare. Great views but burgeoning with shops selling all sorts of tourist tat. We think they should close down the shops and save the weight of all the ponchos, toy guitars, and all sorts of tourist-trinkets.

Sitio hovers on the edge of the cliff

The benefit of being tied up amongst the fishing boats, was the proximity of the fish auction. The fishing boats arrive at the end of their day at about 7pm-11pm. As the boats are unloaded and the catch sorted into batches for the auction on the quayside, the ones that are too little or too big are thrown on the ground, and the canny locals are seen with huge carrier bags full of sardines picked up for a free feast ( or served to you grilled in the restaurants more like!)
The auction takes place as soon as enough fish are assembled onto the conveyor belts, and bidding takes place on a tiny electronic handheld gadget. Behind the auction the fish are loaded in ice and trucked off in vans to the various fishmongers and restaurateurs, some of them international. You can’t get fresher than that, even if you do pick the catch up off the floor! Most of the catch we saw were sardines and mackerel, but there were a few monsters passing through the auction. It is amazing that there are any sardines left in the sea at all!

Nazare fish market

8th October -26th – and still waiting to leave……
Cascais, Lisbon, Sintra

It was a landmark for us to arrive in Cascais, on the outskirts of Lisbon. We had been aiming to arrive by mid-September, but the benefit of arriving in October is that the marina costs 20 euros rather than 50 euros a night. Some friends spent 18 days waiting for a weather slot here in high season – that’s 900 euros !!!!!
We anchored peacefully in the bay outside the marina, for the first week until we were forced into the marina by forecasts of gales. At least we kept the costs down a bit though.
The anchorage was very secure and we were happy to leave the boat to visit Lisbon on the ridiculously cheap modern train (1.65euros ). Lisbon was grimy and dirty, but with options to ride on the old trams, cheap lunch and shopping for bargains, we were quite content. We spent another whole day visiting chandleries (yawn) and finished the day off by visiting the Mosteiro de Jeronimos at Belem – with its quite amazing church. The richly embellished tomb of Vasco da Gama is here, he was responsible for making Portugal rich in 1497 by sailing around the Cape of Good Hope and beyond, thereby opening up the spice routes to India.

Lisbon trams

On another bright blue, hot sunny day (difficult to imagine that right now!) we took the coastal bus round Cabo da Roca – the most western point of Europe, and up to the old town of Sintra in the hills. Right at the top of the hill is the Palacio da Pena, a funky, brightly-coloured, bizarre, gothic style palace, set right on top of the hills, commanding superb views of the surrounding countryside and coast, every room filled with weird and wonderful furniture, paintings, sculpture. It was left in a hurry by the royal family in 1910 when they fled the country, following a joint revolt of the army and navy. After that we walked down through the gardens and down to the town. The descent took about an hour so we were very pleased with our choice to have taken the bus to the top! The thoughtful monarchs even had a castle built for their ducks!!!

Sintra castle

The duck pond!

   Shortly after our sightseeing expeditions, the weather turned sour and all the boats left the anchorage for the safety of the marina - very nice with good facilities, but the wifi is broken and doesn’t show signs that it will ever be fixed. We have been tied up here for 11 nights as depressions and fronts sweep their way across the coast. There are about 30 liveaboard boats here, 4 of us British, the others mainly Norwegian, Dutch, German, American. There are plenty of social opportunities for late night drinking sessions, everyone waiting to head south to the Algarve or south-west to Madeira. We are about 50m from the (thankfully) very sturdy harbour wall, which is all that stands between us and the 6m waves breaking as they arrive from the Atlantic. When it is not raining there is constant haze of sea-spray in the marina,  making it impossible keep anything dry.
Being in port for too long drives you to drink and strange behaviour – the Norwegians had races in their rubber dinghies converted to sailing boats! Nutters!

The forecast for tomorrow is the best it has been for ages, so there will be a mass exodus of boats moving onto the next port of call. As for our plans for the Canaries, we go from hot to cold about the trip. Some say the trip back is a problem and we don't want to be too delayed getting into the Med. The weather has been abnormal here and the sea is terrible for the trip south at present but it may well improve and then we will see. We have considered going round to the Algarve for the winter and even a trip to Africa and on to Canaries that way, or just staying somewhere in the Algarve / Spain coast as we are told it is quite nice but obviously not as hot and the work we want to do on the boat will take longer. On the plus side of staying on the mainland, there is more to see and spares will be easier and it gets us into the Med probably a month earlier than returning from the Canaries. So the jury is still out and we will keep you posted as the plans come together.

Today the weather is starting to improve and the sun has come out 2 or 3 times. The waves are about 4 to 6 m high. on the outside of the Marina and it looks pretty impressive when we can see the safe water buoys , which indicated us the safe distance off the marina wall on our arrival , literally disappearing under about 20 foot breaking waves.

We think it will all start to moderate tonight and tomorrow it could well look quite normal by tomorrow. Several other boats are preparing to leave tomorrow both to Madeira and south. We will see - it's not the first time they have said they are leaving; some have even gone and turned back!

Rias Bajas – La Coruna to Bayona (26th August to 25th September 2006)

Well, we planned to spend a good part of our trip this year in the Galician Rias (deep rivers in the forested hills of the NW corner of Spain), but we weren’t prepared for the temperature of the water, or the English weather. The views were truly breathtaking though, and anyone with an eye for business may consider the option of running a charter business here. We believe that this is the clear objective of the Galician powers-that-be at the moment, as everywhere there are new breakwaters, and promises of new marinas. Don’t let this put you off though, there are still so many unadulterated anchorages to choose from, that it will be many years, if they ever get around to it at all, before it becomes the Sunsail-esque equivalent of the Solent. At the moment you can easily miss your cruising friend in between ports and anchorages as you pass each other in this gigantic cruising ground.

We spent almost a week in A Coruna, as we discovered that we had exhausted our old starter batteries and needed to replace them. See 'Not so Technical' below.  It did give us plenty of time to explore the town and bars and restaurants and to start to feel at home in Galicia.
We continued our impromptu tour of local fiestas, arriving at Ares across the Ria from Coruna, in time for their annual celebration. The band started at midnight with kids sleeping in their seats outside and large, free, bowls of mussels for which the Rias are famous. I haven’t seen such large and succulent mussels in abundance since my early days in New Zealand. They tasted great!

We visited Lage. A small fishing and developing tourist village with a beautiful sweeping golden beach. Unfortunately the Ocean currents made the water so cold, even Stuart could not wade out to wet his nether regions! They just went higher and higher until he had to give up and get out!

Lage

From here we went swiftly onto Camarinas, well known amongst the cruising folk as a beautiful ria. There appeared to be plenty of opportunities to kayak to your own private beach here, and walk in the pine forested slopes, but we were surrounded by grey mullet. The water was so thick with them, particularly in the port that you could almost walk across the water on their backs. As we have come to learn, no-one in Spain eats grey mullet, as they eat sewage and are nature’s way of cleaning up the water. This, combined with the noxious wiff from the fish cannery at night, made us question our motivation of enjoying a late summer swim and kayaking in the ria, and we moved swiftly on. Outside of the town itself the ria is beautiful and looking back it was a shame we didn’t spend a bit longer exploring the outer reaches and bays within.

We entered the next ria, Ria de Mouros, with towering pine forested hills all around. Another lovely beach which was much warmer and swimming was pleasant. First we anchored off a beach, but moved on the next evening due to fishing boat activity – pulling up our tripping line (attached to the anchor) as they pulled their fishing pots, circling the boats in the anchorage.
Off we went to Muros town, an unadulterated anchorage off a fascinating town. Surrounded by cockle pickers on the beach every morning, 100m off our stern, it gave us a rare opportunity to observe real Galician life at work – no illegal Chinese immigrants here it seems. A heavy evening spent here drinking with a couple from London meant a day of not a lot the next day. The day after that we ventured over to Portosin marina (expensive but exceptionally clean with an excellent restaurant and other facilities.) and a trip on the bikes to visit the old town of Noia about 5 miles round the ria, but one you cannot now get to by yacht because of silting of the entrance.

Muros

We moved onto Ria Arosa. Not a long trip but one in thick fog, our least favorite conditions. But once a mile or so into the Ria using a combination of GPS and Radar and the odd glimpse of solid objects, the fog cleared revealing yet another expanse of islands, golden beaches and small ports serving the hundreds of mussel rafts, common throughout the Rias.   We were running low on diesel by now – in Spain and France leisure yachts have to pay duty on diesel, so must find a different source of fuel to that of the fishing boats, whose red diesel is duty free and always available in fishing ports.

We entered a brand new marina, which looked promising as it had a diesel (Repsol) sign and pump, inside the marina. Unfortunately we found that this is only for fishing boats (even though there were none there, nor could they get to the pump). We were directed to the next port along – Cabo Cruz – where you can snuggle up amongst the huge fishing boats on the wall and wake someone up to receive some duty-paid diesel (Gasoil/Gasoleo A). A bizarre contradiction….not a single pleasure boat is based in this port. However the diesel was very clean and courteously served. 40 minutes after filling, we were back anchoring outside the previous marina, with no need to go inside and pay for the night.

A couple of days spent avoiding the rain and shopping in the open market stalls. Old ladies dressed in black with wicker baskets selling fresh produce from the individual small holdings out in the hills surrounding the Ria. Of course, there was a good sized fish market and I bought my first mussels of the trip for cooking on the boat. Steph doesn’t eat shellfish so it’s easier to eat them in a restaurant but I enjoyed a ½ Kilo and vowed to buy ¾ Kg next time.

We next sailed on down past Isla Ons at the entrance of the Ria de Pontevedra, which we did not enter, and onto Iles Cies at entrance of the last of the Galician rias – Ria de Vigo.
These islands are the most beautiful place that we have visited so far. We anchored up and were rapidly boarded by customs officials in a hurry to get their paperwork completed. They have a completely inappropriate boat for the purpose, pointing their bow directly at ours to transfer the officials – inevitably taking off part of our toe-rail (wooden edging) at the bow of the boat. They were most apologetic, and being the only boat in Spanish waters that doesn’t have to carry it’s insurance details on board, they gave us a phone number to ring to speak to their boss, who would be in the office the next day. As our toe-rail needs replacing anyway, we saved ourselves the bother and inconvenience and Stu made a temporary repair. We were just pleased that they hadn’t punctured a hole in the side of the bow, which would have kept us from sailing for some time!
The official form was duly completed – we are used to the questions now, as they are the same ones on the form we fill in at every port and harbour in Spain (and now Portugal).
How many masts? Do we have radar? Do we have VHF? How many on board? Give passport numbers, sign form , and they are happy as Larry and disappear off. They don’t show the slightest interest in looking inside the boat, or asking anything like – Are you carrying any drugs or illegal immigrants?

We didn’t let the incident, or the ensuing rolly night at anchor affect our enjoyment of the islands. In the morning we prepared for a walk around the island, and went ashore in the dinghy. Although we had a plan for landing in the surf, it didn’t quite happen as we intended and Steph sported squelchy shorts all around the island – Stuart of course was completely dry. We climbed to the top of the fairy-tale-castle-like lighthouse, for phenomenal views of this wild coast in all directions.

Iles Cies

After this, Steph was almost dry, but repeated the soaking experience getting into the dinghy and out of the surf to get back to the boat – plus several bruises from climbing in over the back of the dinghy! Stuart was still completely dry once again!

We sailed on, and into the Bayona Yacht Club, set in the grounds of a castle, which has been converted into a luxury parador (Hotel). We made the most of being temporary members of the yacht, which we were told is one of the top four prestigious yacht clubs in Europe. It certainly was full of beautiful ladies-that-lunch who looked like they had never set foot on a yacht, except for perhaps the odd motor-yacht cocktail party.
Apparently, to be a member here is only possible by invite, and by paying around 20,000 Euros joining fee, followed by 70E a month, and then your berthing fee on top of that if you do keep a boat there.

Bayona Yacht Club

After a couple of days exploring the castle grounds and the bars of Bayona, we attempted to leave on the Monday morning. After motoring slowly forward at half speed in blind fog for an hour, we decided that our nerves couldn’t take anymore and we turned back in to the port. Despite radar, we had 2 extremely close encounters with fishing boats, who go about their normal business at full speed in any conditions. It was not for the faint hearted! To turn back was the right choice, as the fog continued to roll in for the next 12 hours.

To save our budget we anchored off the marina, giving up our opportunities to lounge around the yacht club. Here we met all sorts of interesting cruising folk, from 30’ to 60’ boats, some without engines (out of choice), one waiting weeks for a new gearbox to arrive. We felt comfortable that we are not particularly late in the season, as there are plenty of others out there, and many still just arriving from their Biscay crossing.

The next day brought bad news from the marina. The red cross had issued a bad weather warning to all ports for 48 hours time. We had to make a decision as to where to head to in the next 24 hours that would be able to see us through some strong winds. A bit more investigation in internet cafes revealed the cause of the problem to be Hurricane Gordon lurking out in mid-Atlantic, with an indeterminate path headed somewhere on the Galician or Portuguese coast. We decided to stay put in Bayona, as there was an anchorage, marina, and buoys to choose from, and the reefs around the entrance make the bay very protected from swell, with high hills to protect us from south and west.
Several large container ships came in and anchored behind the Iles Cies, so we knew we were in for a biggy.
We waited slightly anxiously for more news, and the next 2 days were hot and sunny, force 3-4 perfect sailing weather. Gordon did a bit of damage to one of the Azores islands, before losing it’s hurricane status in the cold water of the Galician waters. It finally hit at 5am in the morning, with gusts of 65 knots (mph) in Bayona. The centre of the storm passed about 60 miles north of us with gusts of 80 knots (mph). Some damage was done to buildings, but it was not a bad as had been expected.
We sat out the storm in the marina, watching the piles shaking back and forth and wondering what would happen if the forecasted Storm Force 11 reached us, as it didn’t seem that the pontoons would take too much more battering.
With hindsight (what a wonderful thing), we should have stayed at anchor, where we would not have been snatching at our ropes and cleats. Our biggest worry would have been the boats without engines, as if they dragged their anchors they would not have been able to do anything about it, and there was not really enough room for all of us out in the anchorage to put out the necessary lengths of chain.

Apparently ex-hurricanes are full of energy that needs to be dissipated in wind, rain and thunderstorms. This is exactly what Gordon did over the next 3 days.
We pottered in internet cafes, and bars and shops. When it rained the locals would shake their heads and say that they couldn’t believe what bad weather they were having.
In between rain showers we walked around the coast and went ‘Up the Virgin’.

Can you spot me in the little boat she is holding?

This statue is perched on the headland, and you can climb up inside the virgin , to emerge through a tiny hole to stand in the boat that she holds in her right hand. It was particularly windy, so hanging on with both hands was in order.

We haven’t mentioned anything about the forest fires in the Rias. Before we arrived in Spain, there had been no rain for 3 months (!). This combined with the bizarre behaviour of some out-of-work firemen and other arsonists (one of them 91 years old) led to huge forest fires throughout the rias. They lost about 7% of their forested area, and there were many fatalities. In August, it was common to see seaplanes sweeping down into the rias to collect water to drop in the hills, and every few days we would see a new plume of smoke rising in the distance.
A German chemical factory burned down at the top of one of the rivers, leeching toluene and other nasties into the water. It was rapidly dealt with by carbon filters, and followed by an emergency plan to tunnel the course of the river around the polluted section.

For Galicia to be hit by a hurricane after all this bad luck, seems to be really unfair, but at least the damage was slight compared to what could have been. Hurricane Helene lurked in the Atlantic for a while, threatening a similar course, but thankfully lost its power and buggered off to Ireland.
The strong winds swept the ash off the hills and the rain brought it all down, so for a few days we had black decks and black feet.

At last, after 10 days we left Bayona, and had a lovely sail down the coast, accompanied by dolphins across the border into Portugal. We were very pleased to hoist our Portuguese courtesy flag, as we were excited to be entering a new country and heading south towards better weather. We really enjoyed the Rias, and would urge anyone to head their, as it is wonderful sailing playground, with a beach for everyone, and lots of opportunities for cycling and walking. For the Galicians, they say that 2006 has been a year to forget!

Not So Technical.Getting new batteries in La Coruna.
So I’m sitting in a beautiful bay surrounded by spectacular rocky coast enclosing a golden sand beached bay and a small town offering a couple of bars and restaurants in the Rias of Galicia. It’s 8:30 in the evening and about 25 degrees and sunny. It’s what we came here for and hope to see a lot more of, but don’t get the impression that it’s all swilling sun downers and sunbathing. There is always maintenance to do.

Three days ago, fortunately in La Coruna, the largest city in the area, we returned to the boat to the gas alarm screaming. First checks confirmed the gas shut off at bottle and no smell. Reset the gas alarm to find “No 2” sensor, the deepest in the bilge will not reset. No obvious cause. Floor uplifted and sensor inspected for damage , none found and it restarted only to fail again 1 hour later. Next afternoon after removing the loo/shower floors for varnishing, (a result of a complaint re the condition of the on shore showers in the marina) and exposing areas of the shower tray clearly not ventilated or drying, we both smelt a progressively worse smell like dirty drains and sulphur. Cleaning the area didn’t seem to improve the situation and it continued to get worse.

More sniffing and opening of lockers finally revealed the source of the smell. The engine starter batteries had a dead cell and were overheating on the shore charger, creating Explosive!!! gases. Ventilation and disconnection sorted out the smell and gas but it still left us with no starter batteries, so to the guts of the story.

What we need is 2 x 105 to 110 amp Hour Engine cranking batteries. I want sealed, i.e. ideally Glass filled high performance batteries or at least Gel.

What is involved .
(1) Get the words you will need, Baterias, etc.
(2) Find out a potential supplier
(3) Get to the supplier and explain the situation.

We did all of the above in about ½ a day and a visit into the warehouse revealed 2 types of battery available. Traditional car batteries, 2 of, ( possibly Recreational ) and a sealed battery, 1 of, similar to the average boat battery from the average UK chandler.

The size available was max 75 amp. 2 Baterias of the sealed variety were ordered for delivery to the marina that evening. The price was equivalent to the most hi-tec available in the UK. They did arrive and on time so no complaints but on removing the shrink wrapping they exposed themselves as normal push on cap lead acid, not what we had ordered.

Day 2. Discussion with shop to explain situation. To their credit they worked hard to try to rectify the situation but to no avail. We went to another car / truck battery supplier whilst this was proceeding and explained what we wanted. In this part of Spain, sealed means there is a cap on it!. Gel was a concept that the specialist had heard of but none of the 3 suppliers he called could supply anything over 75 amps and , you guessed it I didn’t bother trying to explain AGM ( absorbed Glass Matt) and Red flash micro technology.

The result: 2 days delay in leaving port. 2 admittedly heavy duty cranking batteries and 430 euros (!!) less in the wallet. But we are sailing again!

What would have been the result in a smaller port?

North Spain, August 2006

The seas flattened out around the NW point of Spain, and hopefully we are rid of the steep lumpy seas of Biscay and into kinder, more regular waves from the Atlantic.  We tightened the rig up a few notches – quite normal to have to do this after 1000 miles of having a new rig – and the boat is so much better behaved as a result, coping with head winds and waves much better than before.
We were rewarded by being joined by about 50 dolphins all around the boat, some deciding to ride the bow wave of the yacht, and happily chirping away at us in dolphinese while we held on tightly at the bow to watch them.

La Coruna offers lots of entertainment for a few days, to replace our batteries (literally), and mend a few bits of boat. The marina is lovely, and in a great position, but the showers are truly appalling, so it has become a motivating factor to sort out our on-board showering facilities. Stuart has set to with the epoxy to sort the woodwork, and Steph has varnished/oiled the wooden shower trays, so it will all be ready to go for when we have left La Coruna. No doubt the next shower facilities will be gleaming marble and gold plated taps!

On our day off, we visited Santiago de Compostela, about 45 minutes away by train.
It was fantastic to see the city that I’d read about and to see the Parador. It’s a great city to wander around the old streets, and to take in the history of the popular pilgrimage that finishes here with a reward of only spending half your time in purgatory. If you complete the pilgrimage in a holy year, 2004, 2010 then you get let off of purgatory entirely.
For more background to this pilgrimage read Spanish Steps by Tim Moore, a very entertaining read about his travels with a donkey, including lots of really bad donkey jokes.

I think we need a bit more practice with panoramic shots:

It is a real challenge everyday to try and communicate to get what you want, and to find parts or equipment when there is a language barrier – for many of the locals, Spanish is their second language after Gallego, and possibly French, so it no wonder that they may not speak English. They are just as likely to receive customers from Scandinavia, Netherlands, France, Italy. Even the Spanish dictionary is not much help, as the words often do not remotely resemble the Gallego equivalent.

So far we have sampled lots of yummy cuisine – amongst our favorites are chipirones (baby squid in it’s ink) and Pimientos de Padron (tiny green peppers fried in salt and olive oil, mostly benign but with the occasional hot one to surprise you). Luckily we were warned about the ‘percebes’ – or goose barnacles. They are a local specialty collected from the waters edge at great risk from big waves and are accordingly very expensive. Just because they are a speciality does not mean that we are going to try them though, maybe you can see from the picture why we’ve not bothered to try them.

We discovered more local customs, including a bar serving only sweet red wine ( a bit like sherry) in small pouring bottles served with peanuts fresh in their shells. The shells are rapidly disposed of, creating an entire layer of peanut shells on the floor of the bar. The guy we are sharing a drink with is Bert, a grandfather from Netherlands, who is single handed in a 40 footer. He has crossed the Atlantic alone, more times than we’ve crossed the channel – a real inspiration, and a beautiful boat.

After the tourist bars close, we discovered that the locals head up to the old town for more drinking at the weekend – but seldom in bars. They take a picnic and their supply of alcohol and sit around in groups in a park just beneath a row of attractive looking bars that are almost empty.

During our walk we discovered why there are so many wrecks marked on the chart as we viewed the lower 30 feet of the lighthouse.

Moving Weather, our weather forecasting program that we subscribe to, predicts that the low cloud will clear on Wednesday, so hopefully if our new starting batteries are installed, we will be off shortly after that to explore the Rias Bajas for a couple of weeks.

Gijon, North Spain, August 2006

After a couple of days of battering by wind and waves day and night from La Rochelle we arrived in Gijon in North Spain – pronounced something like hee-hon – try saying it without sounding like a donkey! We were approached and boarded by Spanish customs officials who spoke no English at all. We filled in their form as requested and they went away quite happy. They assured us that this was entirely routine, but we never came across any other boats that had been welcomed this way!

On arrival, we jumped ship and went to a bar to try and regain our senses and land legs. All around people were buying a bottle of cider with one glass between them. It would be poured from a great height, often without looking at the glass. This resulted in much spillage. The glass was then passed to someone, who would gulp it down except for the dregs, which would be swilled around the glass and chucked on the ground before passing the glass back to the pourer.  This strange behaviour was all around, and we later discovered that it was fiesta time here, and is a local custom. Pouring the cider from a height makes it fizz momentarily and taste acceptable. It’s traditional to share one glass so the dregs are swilled around to clean the glass before it is passed on to the next drinker.

The following two days we made the most of arriving during the fiesta, and attended the firework display on a Monday at midnight on the beach. It was an awesome display of 45 minutes, some of the best fireworks we’ve ever seen. There was an intermission of 10 minutes during the show, which turned out to be a problem with one set of fireworks. We were treated to the missing ones at 2pm the next day – which didn’t quite have the same effect.
There was music for free in the square and down by the port, a huge stage set up with a Riverdance show and various other free gigs. These went on until well into the small hours. We retired to bed about 3am, but the town was still heaving with people of all ages, mostly drinking cider and spilling it in the streets. We didn’t witness a single episode of drunken misbehaviour and the atmosphere was very convivial.

On the way to Gijon, Stuart caught an enormous tuna (actually a bonito) which he butchered on the foredeck with lots of mess and scales running down the sides of the deck. We let the boat drift while he got it aboard and did his dastardly deeds with it, and it was two hours before we were able to set sail again, with it safely in manageable size pieces ready for the fridge.

Stuart made lots of friends in Gijon by distributing huge tuna steaks to the other cruisers there. It was probably around 20-25 kilos. In France bonito was selling in the markets for around 28 Euros/kilo, so it was an impressive catch.  We ate tuna for days and days after this, our favourite solutions to tuna overload being green thai curry, and portugese fish stew (Caldeira).

The cost of living is much lower than in France here- we were starting to wonder if our budget was up to the task when we shopped in the supermarkets. The meat is much better quality here and about ¼ of the price. The wine is abundant, cheap and excellent quality. What more could you want in life??

Ribadeo
Onto Ribadeo next, about 75 miles along the coast. Another boisterous sail with head winds, or now winds and steep short seas, just like the English channel.
The town was OK but a bit run-down, with an annoying swell in the marina (run by the yacht club). Whatever we did with fenders and lines we snatched and jolted around and rubbed fenders with our neighbours. Helen and Matthew joined us for a night on their way home from Pontevendra to the airport. Matthew (8) ran around the boat like a mad thing, pressing every button and pulling every rope he could find – a great adventure playground – while we held our breath and hoped that nothing vital was being activated (like the EPIRB!)
We found a fantastic typically Spanish restaurant with the usual bright lights and immaculately clean kitchen. Helen brought us news that the rain that we found annoying and persistent was very welcome in the region, as they had not had any for 3 months before we arrived. This, combined with some bizarre arson attacks had resulted in terrible forest fires all over Galicia, with loss of life and homes on a scale so huge, that satellite pictures show the smoke streaming out into the Atlantic.

After seeing Helen off to the airport the next day there was an absolute downpour. The steep alleys and streets were streaming with water, the drain covers disgorging their rotting contents. We were quite safe aboard our ark, but the wiff was becoming quite nasty, and we discovered that what had appeared to be just a pile (wide metal vertical pole)  in the marina turned out to be the overflow pipe. We named it ‘Pissypoo’ fountain when we saw what was surrounding our ark!

Viveiro
Moving swiftly on we sailed 35miles to Viveiro, a pleasant old town with a new marina and a friendly harbourmaster. We spent an hour in his office to do our paperwork (one form) and receive Spanish lessons and a comprehensive knowledge of nearby anchoring possibilities.  Met lots of cruisers here, including Dutch and Danish cruisers and a couple heading back home after their yearly cruise of the region. Andy and Carolyn on Trio gave us lots of information about the cuisine and the areas not to be missed and we seriously took advantage of their extensive drinks locker during one pleasant afternoon aboard.
On Monday and Tuesday evenings there was free live music in the town square, for which all the locals turned out. Everyone brings their kids out until late in the evening, and no-one would think about eating before 10pm. We were clearly born to live in Spain, as our bodyclocks have been synchronized to Spanish time for as long as we remember – even as a child, it never felt right to eat at 1pm and 7pm. We’d frequently find ourselves the last customers in a restaurant, or having to negotiate a table before the kitchens closed in the UK and in France.
Peter joined us on Tuesday for a few days. Unfortunately we thought that it would be a  simple connection to Asturias airport where there is a nearby train station. Of course the last train of the day departed 10 minutes before he landed, so the only option was an expensive taxi ride.
We motored around the corner to El Barquero. Here we found a picturesque beach with virtually no-one around, under the ruins of probably an old fish factory. The sand was so white and the water so clear, we had an easy view of shoals of tiny sardines chasing around making the water choppy with their activities and heaps of other fish that avoided Stuart and Peters’ attempts to land them. Steph was quite content with a rest from fish for a while as the tuna had only just been consumed, and we were quite keen for a change of diet.

 After a morning swim to the beach, we sailed off to La Cedeira. Again, no winds/head winds and a lumpy sea and we were pleased to arrive in this fishing village. We anchored behind the breakwater near ‘Offski’ a Glaswegian boat off to the Med. The town was a disappointment in every way. We found it hard to find a decent restaurant, the beach was quite dirty, the weather terrible and Peter could find no way out of the place without another expensive taxi ride (and it was touch-and-go as to whether anyone would take him).
After seeing Peter off in his taxi, La Cedeira’s parting shot was an anchor fouled by the most humungous fishermans anchor/mooring we have ever seen, complete with 2 other anchors that had met the same fate as ours. Now we understood why we had held our position so well in the 25 knot winds that we had in the rain-storms!
Our powerful windlass brought the mass of steel to a couple of feet below the surface of the water, so we could see what was what. You would have to be mad to get in the water to sort it out, as it was all hanging in a tangle of fishing net off the flukes of our anchor, ready to take you down with it, should it decide to drop off at any moment.
Luckily we managed to manoeuver the tripping line/anchor chain up and down to free ourselves of this mess and got ourselves free of La Cedeira in favour of La Coruna.

La Trinite & Carnac, Iles Houat & Yeu, La Rochelle, August 2006

Two weeks into our trip and we are still in holiday mode. We went for a cycle tour along the waterfront to Carnac, a huge holiday resort with enormous sandy beaches, zillions of restaurants, bars and tourists. We continued through the town and out along the route that takes you past most of the ‘Alignements’.

These are menhirs or prehistoric standing  stones, predating Stonehenge and numbering over 2000. They stand line upon line running roughly NE/SW. No-one knows whether these were for astronomical measurements or territorial markers, but they are very impressive.

Back at La Trinite we picked up washing from the laverie- found we’d well ripped off and it cost much more than we anticipated – from now on its laundry in a bucket!

In the morning we nipped up to the Capitanerie to pay our bills and found it was market day, so we had a quick visit. Not having time to look around and compare prices we spent loads of money. Not surprising, as the stall-holders have a never ending supply of tourists to rip off and we are not yet streetwise enough to negotiate or compare prices. Anyway it was a valuable lesson learned, and a hot sunny morning with a force 4 wind blowing so we were happy to slip our lines and head out to sea again, away from cars, tourists and rip-offs.
We had a fantastic sail into the Gulfe de Morbihan – a huge inland sea ( a bit like Poole Harbour) with about 60 islands. 30 of these are owned by film stars, some are holiday resorts and some are uninhabited. The navigation around the islands was tricky, but good fun and we anchored for the evening in a beautiful bay off the Ile d’Arz. We cooked up the last of our frozen food from the UK and gazed out over a sailing playground. There are thousands of people sailing here, it seems that everyone in South Brittany must own a sailing boat and be out on it every day. Despite this there is plenty of room for everyone and our anchorage was certainly not crowded. We would thoroughly recommend this area to anyone who sails- it would be relatively easy to enjoy some time here in a 2-3 week break – bring (or buy) a detailed chart of the bay to make the most of it.

After dinner we went up to the village called The Bourg for a nightcap – at about 10pm there were just enough people in the pleasant bar to make it lively but not packed.
Ile d’Arz, and no doubt the other holiday islands, have something for everyone, and a laid back holiday feel, much like the Isles of Scilly, full of well dispersed holiday accommodation, but retaining it’s character and dignity.

Next morning, after a swim, we went for a walk right around the island and then headed off for an evening sail to one of the small islands about 10miles off the Brittany shore – hoping that no-one else had discovered it yet! Wishful thinking!

Stuart put his fishing gear together, so the pressure was on him to perform. Steph had a backup plan for dinner, just in case.

As we approached Ile Houat we were astounded to see the number of masts in the anchorage. We had previously decided against the small harbour as it could be like the last Island harbour so we browsed the chart for an anchorage that might be a bit more secluded. Well, We have never seen so many boats at anchor in one place – Studland beer festival just comes no-where near! To be fair the bay was huge (Treac’h er Gourhed) and we anchored in shallow water about ½ mile from the beach. A swim would have been great, but for the thought of 239 boats that we could see, (Stuart counted them) most of which would be without holding tanks!

Ile Houat and it’s neighbour Ile Hoedic were really beautiful and in settled weather outside of July/August they would be well worth a longer visit. The water was crystal clear and we could see the bottom some 5 to 6 m down.

We moved on the next day, and anchored off Ile d’Yeu. This looked like a fascinating island, not even mentioned in the Rough Guide. We passed the remains of an old castle perched on the edge of a cliff, and some tiny anchorages, no more than a crack in the cliffs, where a handful of brave yachts were anchored in amongst the rocks. Without local knowledge we headed for a safer option described in the pilot book– Anse de Vieilles. Again, lots of yachts and we were a long way out.  We ate the fish that Stuart caught – probably a bass. It was a reasonable size fish and must have been strong as we were doing more than 5 knots when he took the bait.
Steph flapped about as much as the fish when Stuart tried to put it on the cockpit floor to do his dastardly deeds to it. Stuart and fish were sent up to the foredeck until it resembled something that might be served in a restaurant!

Stu's first tiddler

Our plan to explore Ile D’Yeu the next day was foiled by a fine breeze popping up, that was just too good to miss. So we upped anchor and set off south towards La Rochelle. We are keen to spend as much time in the Spanish Rias as possible, and getting to La Rochelle is a milestone that we wanted to reach as soon as possible.
We arrived at low water, too low for us to risk entering the shallow entrance, so we anchored off the port and spent a very uncomfortable night rolling from side to side in the tide.
An early start the next day rewarded us with a place in the Minimes marina, which appears to have everything – shorepower, wifi and free tricycles for shopping. We walked up to the old town – very busy as the QE2 was visiting.
It is a fascinating city with well preserved 18th century timbered houses lining the main shopping centre. We had a walk around the ramparts and the old port – a real lively atmosphere. The weather is perfect, sunny with a warm dry breeze.
We have a day or two of work to do sorting out various bits of the boat that need improvement. There are 4 chandleries within ½ mile, so this seems the ideal time to get on with a few chores.  It is all hard work really!!

First on the list was a trip up the mast to remove the wind speed sensor/ paddle for overhaul as it had stopped working and afterwards another trip  up to re attach it. This just delayed the worst of the jobs, dismantle the loo pump which had become chocked up with calcium, this requires disconnecting and removing the pump to the pontoon for disassembly and cleaning and replacement of a valve or two. It is a smelly and disagreeable job but the reward is a toilet that works better and doesn’t blow back (I’ll leave that to your imagination). These jobs plus washing the sheets in a bucket and drying in the wind, took most of the day, A mooch round the bars is required before the night is at an end.

Great Place in the evening. Street entertainers all over the sea front and crowds of spectators. Good atmosphere. We will be back there tonight as well.  Today was shopping day. Veg and fruit from the Market then Lunch and back to the boat to unload before a trip to the chandelery to replace some spares used. ( no use there wound up ordering them from the UK). Then we borrowed a crazy sort of a tricycle thing with a box arrangement on the front, terrible brakes and horrible to steer, Rode the thing to the supermarket, about 1 ½ miles away and stocked up. The ride back, fully loaded was not for the unfit or the faint hearted . 50 Kg of out of control beer and bog rolls at rush hour, in the city traffic kept me on the edge of the seat ready to jump at any moment. Back now and looking forward to a well earned meal out to say farewell to La Rochelle.

La Rochelle transport

Isle de Groix and La Trinite – South Brittany, July 2006

It’s  11.00pm  - we are sitting in a bar overlooking the harbour at La Trinite-sur-mer, the start of many multihull races French style – big and fast. It’s close to Carnac, famous for its stone formations related to those at Stonehenge. The books tell us that the water is warm and the clearest around. Well, we wouldn’t know yet, as the visibility for the 30 mile trip today never exceeded 1 mile with drizzle and fog. As we arrived it started to clear and tomorrow promises to be much better – apparently it was 32-36 degrees here for the 2 weeks before we arrived!
We went off exploring this evening on our fold-up bikes, as the waterfront restaurants were crammed with tourists. We headed out of town and stumbled across a shellfish&crustacean processing factory with a restaurant above. Laid back atmosphere, lovely views, and of course fantastic fresh cheap seafood.  What a find! It’s called Aquaculture Jaouen- just over the bridge above the marina.
The marinas are getting more expensive as we head south – so we will have to start searching out anchorages again. As the weather (hopefully) improves this is not a chore, but an opportunity to stay away from the crowds.

Yesterday we had the best sail yet – force 5-6 from the quarter propelled us along at 7.5 knots all the way – with the tide to help. Big swell from the fronts that have come through, so quite rolly. We lost a shower bag over the side, because it wasn’t tied on. We had chilli and fresh baked bread for lunch on route – yum yum.

The day finished at Isle Groix, Port Tudy. Pictures in the pilot book show it as a quiet little port – busy in season. They weren’t kidding. Two harbourmasters led us into a downwind trap and pointed us to 2 boats that appeared to be tied together. One pushed our bow with his boat and the other pushed the 2 boats apart. Fenders deployed we motored forward and forced them apart to nestle quite comfortably between them. Virtually all French yachts on holiday – a bit like Yarmouth on a busy day only more tightly packed. The difference was that they had all gone to bed by midnight – no noisy parties, and no-one stirred until 09.00 the next morning. The French know about taking sailing at a holiday pace!
Fortunately the ferry driver knew what he was doing, reversing off the quay and turning around to leave the port within a few feet of the moored yachts in very gusty conditions.

Better a bad day on the water, than a good day in the office…..July 2006

Moved aboard – with our worldly goods waiting to be stowed.

Hopefully the last crossing of the English Channel reminded us of what the English Channel can provide. Within 2 hours we were surrounded by an electrical/thunder storm of proportions we have rarely seen up-close to date. We expect to see more and worse, but it was enough to remind us to head for warmer climes.
Numerous sheets of lightening and forks danced around the flattened sea. Visibility ahead reduced to zero, and the rain fired into the sea as if from a fire-hose above us. We saw the storm on the radar screen as a big black horse-shoe cloud approaching us, but it was too late to avoid it, so we headed for the narrowest point and put the VHF and GPS in the oven (supposedly a faraday cage – but no-one is sure if this helps!).
We thought that being hit by lightening would not be an auspicious start to our adventures, but it had an element of excitement!

We heard the same day that possibly the same storm hit our home yacht club at Poole. One strike hit a racing dinghy on the water, and another hit the race hut taking out the electronics. Perhaps we were in the right place at the right time, but it does seem that lightening doesn’t automatically seek out the tallest metal pole in the vicinity as we are all taught to believe.

English weather, and what a thunderstorm looks like on radar.

The rest of the trip was mundane, across the shipping channels and nearing Alderney Stuart caught a glimpse of a whale (possibly a minke) and a basking shark, but Steph thinks he was hallucinating.

Alderney - yuk

Another rolly night at anchor in Braye harbour, Alderney, saw us heading off early to St Peter Port, Guernsey. A comfortable sail and anchoring in the bay south of the marina (Havelet bay), provided a gentle rolling home for the evening. Everything was shut except the hospitable Guernsey Yacht club, which suited us just fine.  Monday morning and time for a last quick stock-up from M&S. Some spare oil from the engineers and we were on our way in a flat calm for Treguier, on the North Brittany coast.
Treguier entrance is a long straight approach down a buoyed channel and rewards the weary traveler with a picturesque anchorage under the chateau, just before the marina and delightful village.

Dinner on board with a falling tide, and then a re-anchoring manoeuver at 11.00pm resulted in us discovering a broken throttle cable. We spent a hot sunny morning emptying the huge aft locker for access and 3 hours later the cable was replaced with the last minute spare we had picked up at 4.30pm on the Friday before departure.

A trip to the legendary chandlery in Treguier resulted in the first time that Stuart has not bought anything there – (a sure sign that we are overloaded!) A wonderful meal that evening of wood-fire baked potatoes, salad, chips, lamb kebabs, oysters and crème caramel for 13euros.  Excellent value, if you could overcome your prejudices about restaurants with pictures everywhere of St Bernard dogs – Well it was called the Restaurant St Bernard!
Wednesday, 07.30 departure after Stu had a quick dip to clear the propeller of weed. Followed by 18 hours of motoring in no wind, albeit plenty of fog.
Chanel du Four  - visibility 30-100meters, wet and chilly at midnight. Despite an aversion to relying on GPS (satellite navigation) it was a delight to have it help us along with the radar through this famous passage, renowned for strong tides and big swells. Steph faultlessly navigated blindly from the chart table and Stu steered as directed peering out into the gloom and intently watching the radar.
We arrived Camaret at 02:00 and anchored outside the harbour for a well-deserved sleep.

In the morning we moved to the marina for fuel and water. Diesel was a shock at 1.3euros per litre – twice the price of the UK. No duty free red diesel for yotties here from now on.
In the only internet café in town we met up with Paul and Val from Brighton on a diversion from a passage to La Coruna, on their racy Sigma 400 ‘Intemperance’. With these two, we have met our match in the ‘drinking under the table’ challenge. It was touch and go for a time, but I think we saw them off at about 04:00 after they finished our secret weapon – a bottle of Thai rum!
The trouble with marinas, is that once in, you can’t leave – first the hangover, then a forecast, then the rain, the company, the lure of cafes, restaurants and an internet café.
So we didn’t leave until 3 days later, after paying our bill for our first mooring costs (75euros for 3 nights).

Chenal du Four – a better day dawns

Raz du Sein

Next stop, after a gentle motor through the infamous Raz du Sein (pah – we’ve seen more tide and whirlpools in Poole Harbour entrance!) Bright blue sea, sky and bright sun, although a bit of a chilly air, lunch in the cockpit, followed by a lovely sail. We decided to make the most of the wind and continued to Benodet, South Brittany.
Lovely town, if a bit twee, and a little over-hyped by the pilot guides. We walked round and through it 3 times before believing we had seen it all. We found a convenient visitors mooring buoy at 20 euros per night ( next to the marina at 30E per night).
On Monday we attempted a cycle. We took the fold up bikes ashore in the dinghy and set off for historic Quimper. After a 5km ride along the busy main road we decided to take a break at a tiny restaurant/tabac. Steph’s crap French resulted in a full-on menu (9E for 4 courses) instead of a quick snack. This fortunately included a very large bottle of wine, as very soon the heavens opened and the trip to Quimper didn’t seem so inviting anymore.
After stuffing ourselves on the best meal so far, we decided to venture out in-between rain showers to try and find a track along the ‘most beautiful river in Brittany’. We found one track with a warning of roches glissantes. We thought this was just the job and set off along the high tide mark, with several intrepid French ramblers. They weren’t joking about the slippery rocks, there was also slippery sand, slippery gravel, stinky mud, and seaweed and bitey things if you stood still, and also more rain.

Benodet

Another 5km in a direction away from the boat we found a small village (closed) and a main road back to where we started.
Defeated and soaked, we packed the foldups away in more rain, and took them back to the boat, balanced precariously on top of the dinghy.
Back ashore for a hot shower, followed by enormous and delicious crepes at the aptly named Creperie de Benodet, we finished our evening at a harbourside bar regarding the sea through misty plastic windows.
Clearly we need to hurry further south to escape the clutches of the English summer!

PS – Just one internet café to date – don’t feel neglected if you haven’t received an email!