Author: Helen

The Social Side of Sailing

When we set out on this sailing journey there were many aspects of the adventure that excited us – exploring new places, sailing in different waters and finally, meeting like-minded people to learn from, share some of the adventure and socialise with along the way.   The sailing community is a wonderful group to be part of with lots of valuable advice and experience generously given if asked.

Covid meant that our time in the UK was mostly spent in isolation, although we were fortunate to meet some amazing people on our travels.   We were surprised when sailing the Atlantic coast of Spain and Portugal at how few foreign boats we encountered so any opportunity to meet new people, we relished and boldly introduced ourselves.    As late July approached and we drew closer to the Med, there were more British and Australian boats that we met and we would often enter an anchorage to find a boat we had encountered earlier in our journey already there.   I love the community feeling that is created when sailors come together.   When we part company it is often with a knowledge we will meet again in a couple of months in a different part of the world!  

Portugal seems to be divided into three distinctive parts – inland areas, Atlantic and The Algarve.   The Algarve starts at Cabo de Sao Vicente and ends at the border with Spain on the Rio Guadiana.   The Algarve is protected from the NW winds that blow down the Atlantic coast from late Spring to early Autumn so temperatures are warmer and the climate a little more settled, although we had not experienced any unsettled weather since leaving northern Spain!   

As we headed around Cabo de Sao Vicente our friends in their beautiful 50ft Garcia, Nina and Brett, contacted us to say they had just been hit by 30knt winds as they rounded the second headland so we took down the cruising chute, reefed our mainsail (made it smaller) and unfurled our smaller jib.  Our speed dropped from a steady 8 to 3knots as we waited for the wind.   We were so tempted to hoist the full sails, but held out as we knew the wind would come.    As it happened, our friends were heading further east than us, so we only experienced some of the wind before turning into our anchorage in Sagres – a small bay tucked in behind the headland offering some protection from the afternoon winds.   It was a quiet bay, which is exactly what we wanted before we had to become accustomed to hoards of tourists and busy anchorages which we were certain we would experience as we made our way further east.   The days started hot with breakfast in the cockpit, and just got hotter throughout the mornings, until lunchtime when we stayed in the shade or in the saloon, or in the water, to cool off.   

Sagres was not over-run with tourists so we walked around the small village and to the 16th century fort on the headland.  The area is a surfing destination but with little surf while we were there, the beaches were quiet and the town had a very laidback feel to it.    When we felt it was time to move on, we prepared ourselves for the strong accelerated winds that our friends experienced a few days earlier and reefed the mainsail.   True to form, the winds hit us as we came out of the protected bay and we had an exciting sail east until, with a couple of miles still to go to Lagos, the wind died completely and we had to motor!    It really was all or nothing!   

The towns along the Algarve coastline became more developed as we moved closer to Lagos.   Beautiful red and yellow limestone cliffs became more predominant as we headed east, with large caves and hidden coves in their rugged formations.    Avoiding a couple of large fish farms near Ponta da Piedade, we rounded the headland and the full commercial landscape of Lagos appeared in front of us.    I must admit, I was preparing myself for much worse as the hotels and apartments were not built right on the beach and the old part of the town was still visible.   Lots of tourist boats and kayaks were exploring the cliffs and caves close to the harbour entrance and boats were continually entering and leaving the busy port, but first impressions were good, even though we had grown used to being in less populated areas.  

A long seawall marked the entrance to the port and marina, so we crossed the busy channel and dropped our anchor just off the beach, hoping the seawall would give us some protection from the surf.   Once we were happy our anchor had a good hold, we jumped in the dinghy and went ashore.  

We were on a mission – we needed to find a sailmaker as our attempt to fully repair our mainsail did not survive the heavy winds on the sail earlier that day, and we had been recommended Antonio, a sailmaker in Lagos.   Antonio was happy to meet us but instead of giving us an address as requested, he gave us directions which included mention of a large supermarket (Pingo Dulce), a roundabout and a paint shop.   It felt a little like a treasure hunt when we took the northern route off the roundabout took 30 steps and started digging!   There were a few things Antonio misjudged when giving us directions: 1) we weren’t aware there was a shortcut out of the marina and we approached the roundabout from a different direction.   2) There is another sailmaker close to the roundabout and next to a paint shop and 3) We would give up so easily!   After two telephone conversations with Antonio where he sounded annoyed that we couldn’t follow his directions, we gave up and sort shelter from the heat in the air conditioned supermarket.    Antonio called us while we were still in a state of shock at the well-stocked shelves (we hadn’t seen so much choice since leaving Falmouth), and gave us step by step instructions now he knew where we were.    This time we found him and he was well worth the effort!   He provided a solution for our batten luff car issue, which was not expensive and involved a replacement part that he would have made for us at a fraction of the cost of new batten boxes, which is what we were bracing ourselves for.   He also punched two new eyes into a riding sail I had made, using our old mainsail, which should stop us from moving around our anchor chain when there is a blow.   He was pleased we were attempting to make one ourselves and offered advice and spent time showing us other designs we could consider if this did not work.  

My dear uncle Tom, who has been a constant oracle of knowledge and source of advice over the last 18 months, had put us in touch with a friend of his who lived in Lagos.   Mike and his beautiful girlfriend, Chanelle, had left South Africa in 2020 when they felt the situation had worsened to such an extent they did not see a positive future there for them.   As Mike is English they were still able to settle in Europe, prior to Britain leaving the EU and Brexit regulations coming in to force on 1 January.   They chose to settle in Lagos, so we met them for a drink which turned into a meal and late night escapade, returning to our dinghy (which we had abandoned on the beach many hours earlier) and attempting to find Cerulean in the cover of darkness when we were more than three sheets to the wind!!!     I kept saying – this is so unsafe – until I compared it to a similar trip we had done at Splore Festival 18 months ago when we were attempting to find my sisters boat in a small rowing boat in rolling surf in a much busier anchorage on a darker night and more music to hide our screams for help!

The next day was my birthday and we woke to blistering heat.   We met Mike and Chanelle who took us for a drive around the area, spotting flamingos in the wetlands outside Lagos as we sped down the motorway!    Chanelle was keen to try out a waterpark located east of Lagos but when we arrived, it seemed like most of Portugal had the same idea, so we abandoned that plan and headed back into town for lunch at a lovely fish restaurant.     Later that evening we met Nina and Brett, our friends who we sailed from Sines with a few days earlier and had a beautiful meal in a fancy Italian restaurant together.   I felt so lucky to have been able to share the day with beautiful new friends, as well as so many of my family and friends around the World, with the power of the interweb!  

We met several wonderful people in Lagos and could’ve stayed so much longer but after spending a very rolly night on anchor, we decided to move to a more sheltered spot, a short sail further down the coast.   The entrance was narrow and we had been told not to attempt navigating the narrow channel at anything past High Tide +/- 3hrs.   As we arrived close to low tide, we chose to anchor near the narrow estuary entrance and wait until morning.    Several boats were waiting to get up the river, so in the morning we jumped in the dinghy to inspect the channel and get a feel for how much space was available.   We had been talking to a couple who had been living on their boat up the river for a few weeks so we found them and fired a few questions at them to ascertain whether many people would be leaving their anchorage when the tide allowed movement.   It soon became clear there would be no room for us on this tide as boats were not moving once they had secured a spot in this secluded, quiet, protected location close to a lovely town and some beautiful beaches.   We returned to the boat and left for Portimao, a short 5NM sail in a steady breeze.  

As we approached Portimao, it was clear that we were going to be fully exposed to a popular holiday resort at the height of their busiest time of the year.   The beaches were packed and the anchorage at Ferragudo, across the wide estuary from Portimao, was the most crowded we had experienced since leaving the south coast of England.    It was after we had anchored and tidied things away that the loud music started, drifting over from Portimao and vibrating through the rigging.  

We ended up spending a few relatively social days in Portimao and Ferragudo, hanging out with a group of Australian sailors whom we first met very briefly in Lagos and were then joined by Craig and Zena who we met in Lisbon and were hoping we would see again.  

Ferragudo is a lovely small town which has managed to retain its quaint fishing port feel.   The main square borders the waterfront and is filled with restaurants serving a variety of cuisines.   Men cooked freshly caught fish on barbecues next to the waterfront while tourists filled the tables and the different smells drifted through the air.    There are several small coves, each with lovely sandy beaches and, unlike Portimao were not overly crowded.   Two of the coves were separated by a headland on which a large private castle took prominent position, overlooking the anchorage and creating a lovely backdrop to the more sophisticated side of the bay!   

Living on the anchor (not going into marinas) has its own challenges and concerns.  In addition to monitoring the use, and creation, of both power and water, managing laundry and putting up with the wake caused by power boats who feel the need to cut through the busy anchorage at full throttle, there is also the stress of watching novices try to anchor their charter boat much too close for comfort to our floating home.    Several times I had to ask people to move when it became obvious they were far too close and on one occasion when the male skipper refused to even look at me, the man on a neighbouring boat started yelling at him in broken English and they very quickly lifted their anchor and disappeared!   Men still find it hard to believe that a woman can know about boats or even, god forbid, be more experienced than them – the number of times I ask a question or advice from a male professional/sailor and he answers by only looking at Steve! 

We stayed in Portimao for about a week and then left in the morning for a gentle sail and motor to the island of Culatra about 35 miles from Portimao.  Along the way we sailed passed the Benagil Caves – wide and high caves in the orange rocks which was over run with tourists, so we didn’t stop!   Luckily we arrived at Cabo de Santa Maria on an incoming tide as the current rips through the narrow entrance and would have been hard to stem, particularly as we were approaching Spring tides when the tidal flow is at its strongest.   The estuary splits inside the entrance with one river leading to Faro and the other meandering around the island of Culatra.    We headed to Culatra and found a good anchorage in a busy bay, close to the main pier of Culatra.   This proved an excellent choice as we were able to catch the ferry from here into Olhao (pronounced Oli-ow) for supplies, laundry and meeting friends.  

We ended up spending over a week at Culatra, really enjoying the slow pace of life on the island.   We were joined by Craig and Zena spending a lovely time with them as well as meeting up with Paula, Bea and Andy’s friend, and other sailors we had gotten to know along the way.   

Craig and Zena had arranged to be hauled out in Faro at the end of August, so we followed them up the river to Faro where we anchored in a deep hole close to the town and next to another Australian boat owned by Norm, an 80yr old single-hander on an 80ft boat.   What a character he was!   Another Aussie couple, Deb and Scott, had hauled out a few days earlier so we all hung out together for a few days, enjoying quite a number of boozy, fun-filled days together, sharing food, stories, plans and laughter.

We explored Faro, the capital of The Algarve and, once again we were pleasantly surprised by the city. We loved the old town with large stalk nests on the old buildings, visiting Igreja do Carmo, an 18th century Catholic church with a very bizzare chapel in its grounds called the Bone Chapel. In the early 1800’s 1,250 skeletons of Carmelite monks were exhumed from the overcrowded graveyard and used to decorate the small chapel. It was quite creepy walking into this odd building!

In late August we started to prepare to leave mainland Portugal for Madeira and in the early hours at the start of September, we sat down with our English friends and fellow cruisers, Fi and Iain on Ruffian of Amble, and agreed a passage plan to sail together to Porto Santo and then onto Madeira.   The first step was to sail from Culatra towards Lagos.  They would anchor in Portimao while we continued to Lagos to catch up with friends.

We spent a horrible, sleepless night on anchor at Lagos with a huge swell and strong winds, hightailing it out of the bay as soon as it got light and returning to Portimao to join a surprised Iain and Fi who had very sensibly chosen the nice protected anchorage and had enjoyed a lovely nights sleep!

As we prepared to leave mainland Portugal, we heard a conversation on the VHF radio which filled us with dread.  A boat was being attacked by Orca, causing considerable damage and they were taking in water.   The fact we could hear the skipper on the boat, confirmed they were close by.   Help was on the way to them, but we were about to be heading directly towards where the Orca were currently active.  

Capital Adventures

Let me talk about mental health.   I believe I speak for both of us when I say there is nothing we would rather be doing than living this adventure and we know how lucky we are to be able to follow the dream, slow down, visit amazing places, meet wonderful people and learn along the way.   But there are days when we can still feel down, anxious or fed up.  We’ve had enough mis-adventures to test our resilience but sometimes it doesn’t take something going wrong to effect mental health.   It may be the arrival of a significant anniversary, a sudden moment of homesickness, a conversation with missed loved ones – anything could just spark a bout of not being our normal, happy selves!   I experienced a day like that which was caused by the 4th anniversary of my dear mum’s passing.   I just couldn’t get myself out of the funk I was falling into and I started getting cross with myself as I felt I had no right to be feeling the way I was when I was living my dream.    I reached out to an on-line community called “Women who sail the Med” and just asked whether others ever felt the same and what mechanisms were used to bring back their sparkle.   The response was overwhelming and resulted in a new group being set up so we can track where members are so, if we’re feeling down, we can see whether any other member of the group is in the vicinity so we can make contact.   One of the contributors to the discussion was a lovely lady named Jill who was on her boat in Greece.  She told me her step daughter was coming to Porto at the weekend and suggested we met, so on the day before we left Porto we met Gemma and Alex.   They were just the tonic we both needed and we ended up watching the Euro 2020 Cup Final with them in a bar on our last night in Porto.  

Early the next morning, feeling a little worse for wear, we pulled up the anchor that was firmly attached to the muddy bottom, and headed back out to sea.

The wind was light so we stayed offshore to try and catch the forecast northerly steady winds.   They were very late in arriving and, as we had a 60 mile trip ahead of us, we could not afford to sit and wait for the winds to arrive, so motor sailed while we waited!   There was a large swell hitting us on the beam (side) and every so often a large rolling wave would carry us up high throwing Cerulean over on the port side before we skidded down the back of the wave and got thrown the other way.   During that time the mainsail would have the wind sucked out of it and then be slammed as it filled with wind again as we rolled.   This went on all day, only stopping when we put the Cruising chute up and dropped the main.   Although we made reasonable speed at first, the wind soon fell away again and we went back to motor-sailing.   Just as the wind started to fill in, we noticed the mainsail had started to come away from the mast – this side of the main is called the luff.   Two of the luff cars that keep our sail battens in place had become detached from the sail and this had caused a few of the other sail cars to tear the woven straps on the sail.  In short, it meant the sail was becoming disconnected from the mast, so we quickly dropped it before any more damage was done and continued under motor only.  

There are very few protected anchorages down the Atlantic coast of Portugal so we followed a large yacht into Figueira da Faz (Fig Foz for short) marina and found they were heading for the berth we had been allocated minutes earlier.  The marina manager seemed disorganised and seemed to think he had more available berths than were actually vacant, later sending us and another boat competing for the same spot in a very tight channel.   Fortunately we got there first and managed to squeeze our way into the double spot, which was only just wide enough for one boat.    The berth we had been allocated was as far away as was possible from the showers, which were disappointingly average while the price we were charged to stay at the marina was one of the highest we have paid yet – 40Euros a night.   We paid for two nights, thinking we could spend the next day exploring a nearby town we were keen to visit, but then discovered the train journey was 2hrs, so we decided to replenish our dwindling food stores, explore the town and clean the boat!  

Several of the buildings in the town centre are of Romanesque architecture – resembling an unloved movie set – some of the buildings have windows that look like they have been drawn on using a ruler by an OCD child!   Almost every large building is a hostel which look like they were once a hotel but had fallen on hard times and lack of funds to maintain.   The town gave the impression it had seen better days, although money had obviously been spent trying to tidy up the waterfront area with a very wide cobbled seafront walkway and a few odd looking modern statues which looked like they had been designed by a committee!    A big positive was the large indoor market which are common in Spain and Portugal, selling a huge selection of locally produced fruit, vegetables and fish.  

We left Fig Foz before the wind started to increase, as I was worried about the lack of space for any errors when we left our tight berth.   We didn’t need a cross wind to add to an already stressful situation and our friendly French neighbours were watching our every move as they had already confessed their concerns about manoeuvring when they left!   Fortunately we managed an impressive exit and did ourselves proud – we did have the reputation of all future cruising kiwis at stake, after-all!

The wind picked up as we left the protection of the marina and we had a great sail to Nezare under the two jibs only as we still had not repaired the mainsail.   Nezare holds the world record for the tallest wave ever surfed – of over 30m – so it was no surprise that we were hit by some quite large swell as we approached Nezare.  The waves and swell are caused by a submerged canyon which runs for 230km and, at its deepest point, is three times as deep as the Grand Canyon!   The waves are largest in the winter when the wind blows across the exposed ocean.   We chose to anchor behind Pontal de Nazare within site of the lighthouse that appears in the on-line pictures showing the huge waves that pound this coastline.   As you would expect the anchorage was a little rolly and very close to the beach as the water did not get shallow until we were only a few meters from the sand!   In fact some young boys swam out to greet us as we settled in!  We were anchored under spectacular limestone rocks – all the layers were on show with buildings right on the edge on the cliff top, some sitting on overhanging rocks, perched precariously above us.    Although the location was lovely, the anchorage wasn’t and neither of us slept well as the boat yawled from side to side and, being so close to the beach, the noise of late night revellers seemed to be emphasized as the sound hit the cliffs we were under!    In the morning we received an early visit from the local surf guards who approached us in their RIB, telling us we were not allowed to anchor as, unbeknownst to us, we were in front of the harbourmasters house and he was not happy about us staying there.   We asked if we could stay for another two hours to give time for the wind to get up, and we were told no, in no uncertain terms, we had to leave immediately!  

Disappointed we could not go ashore as planned, we did as we were told and continued our journey south in no wind!  In fact, the wind did not arrive at all for the whole 35NM journey and, apart from a desperate, but unsuccessful, attempt at sailing, we motored all the way to Peniche.   As we approached Cabo Carvoeiro, the narrow headland that gives an impression that Peniche is an island as it is connected to the mainland by just a narrow piece of land with sandy beaches to the north and south, we dodged fishing buoys.   We watched a fishing boat approaching us at speed as they hurled fishing pots out in front of us as we were forced to weave our way through the obstacles they threw in our way!  

Our pilot book listed two possible anchorages and, on checking them both out and not liking either option, we started looking for an alternative.   Not put off by our earlier experience, we decided to try anchoring in front of the long sandy beach on the south side of the town.  The hold was good but, once again, the swell was a little uncomfortable but we decided to stay and hope the sea would calm down as the day drew on.   We were soon joined by three other boats and, although the swell did abate a little, we were gently rocked to sleep that night.   The worse thing about the anchorage was the smell!   When the wind changed to more of a northerly we were given the full affect of being downwind of a fish cannery and, even though we were treated to a spectacular sunset, we soon retreated inside to avoid the unpleasant smell!  

The weather was hot, sunny and windless for the next few days so we decided to stay put, relax, repair the mainsail and finish some other outstanding boat jobs – there are always lots of repairs and maintenance jobs on the “to-do” list.   Fortunately the wind changed direction and with that, the smell disappeared but the downside was a nasty swell that threw us from side to side.   We attempted to put out a second anchor from the stern to keep us pointing into the swell, but this was not successful as the anchor we used was too light so we decided we could put up with the rolling for another day.  Fog engulfed the bay for a couple of mornings and, on the second morning after surviving another rocky night on anchor, we made a rushed decision to leave as soon as the mist cleared and head south.   After a slow start, the wind soon picked up and we had a great sail to Lisbon.   Our speed gradually increased from 3knots to a steady 8knts and we entered Cascais harbour with one reef in the main and a top speed of 10.5knots under clear skies and flat seas.   We found an anchorage outside the marina and joined a small international community of boats enjoying the sheltered bay overlooking the lovely town of Cascais.

Cascais is a popular holiday destination for Portuguese and international tourists, mainly because of its beautiful sandy beaches and closeness to Lisbon.   The historic old town has narrow limestone cobbled streets lined with tall colourful houses, restaurants, bakeries and small shops and was a busy mixture of tourists and locals as we made our way to the large farmers market to stock up on much needed fruit and vegetables.

We stayed in Cascais for two wonderful weeks, exploring Lisbon and the surrounding area, meeting new people, learning about the fascinating history and enjoying life living on the hook.   We were anchored close to the marina and the fuel dock allowed us to leave the dinghy on their pontoon whenever we left the boat.   Everything was very close by, including the train station and a short 20 minute ride took us into the heart of Lisbon.   We bought a 7-day pass so we could have unrestricted access to this beautiful city.   Once again, we booked a walking tour and learned about the fascinating buildings and monuments in the heart of the old city.   We walked the cobbled streets, ate wonderful local food, climbed hundreds of steps, marvelled at beautiful views and soaked up the atmosphere of this vibrant, sparkling capital city.   We loved it!   

Lisbon/Lisboa, the capital of Portugal has a population of around 2 million.   Built on the wide, fast flowing Tagus River, the city dates back to the 8th century BC and many beautiful historic and modern structures adorn the river banks.    The city has architecture dating back to the Romans but, due to a series of earthquakes the majority of the city dates from the mid 1700’s when it was rebuilt due to a massive earthquake on 1 November 1755, followed by a tsunami and fire which almost completely destroyed the city.    The vibrant mix of long bridges spanning the river, old forts, large squares, colourful houses, narrow streets and modern memorials gives the city its own unique character and style.   The dominant suspension bridge – Ponte 25 de Avril (the date of the revolution) – is reminiscent of the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco and is over 2km long.   The statue of Christ the King overlooks the city from the south bank, standing 25m high, it was inspired by the Christ the Redeemer statue in Rio de Janeiro.  In the main square of Lisbon, Praca do Comercio has The Rua Augusta Arch which is similar to the Arc de Triumph in Paris and commemorates the city’s reconstruction following the earthquake in 1755.    I loved the steampunk looking Santa Justa, cast iron elevator built in 1902 to connect two of the main city streets.    Steve’s favourite was the impressive monument to the Discoveries (Padrao dos descobrimentos) with Henry the Navigator standing at the prow of a ship in front of other figures from Portugal’s age of the Discoveries.  

We took a 30 minute bus ride to Sintra.  Once again we were swept off our feet by the beauty of the place.   As one impressive palace after another came into view we were really in sensors overload and no amount of adjectives could describe the vision that was unfolding infront of us.   From the castle that sits above the city, perched on a tree-clad hillside with its walls winding around the side of the steep cliffs, looking like the great wall of China.  We looked down on the city of Sintra below us, with three palaces all close together nestled in gardens or trees and then we looked up.  At the top of the hill, perched above the castle at the pinnacle of a rocky outcrop, sat the National Palace of Pena.   Looking like a Disney fairy castle in colours of yellow and red with blue tiles, the palace was built on the site of an old monastery.   The monastery had been hit by lightening and then destroyed by the earthquake of 1531.  It sat empty until the mid 1800’s when the king, who had looked lovingly at the site, decided to convert the ruins into an extraordinary palace.   Incorporating the old buildings, the palace now stands as a monument to the amazing tenacity and feat of engineering undertaken to build such an elaborate building at the top of a steep hill.

The anchorage at Cascais had a steady turnover of visiting boats and the number of British flagged yachts were noticeably increasing as England lifted all Covid lockdown restrictions and the weather improved for crossing the Bay of Biscay.   We decided it was time to move on and continue heading south so reluctantly pulled up the anchor and bade farewell to our new friends.   As we headed south, we took a short detour and sailed up the Tagus River so we could experience the beauty of Lisbon from the water before steering a course for a short but enjoyable sail to Sesimbra.

We anchored off the busy beach for a couple of nights before heading to Sines.   The busy port of Sines is industrial and the approach is far from attractive with a large oil refining plant and storage units “decorating” the coastline, but once inside the inner harbour, the town on Sines starts to be revealed and we instantly liked it.   Probably because of the heavy industry nearby, the town has remained true to its traditional roots – an old fishing port.   The town had a lovely sleepy, laidback feel with very few high rises, small cafes, cobbled streets, a castle overlooking our anchorage and friendly people.   

We stayed for a few nights before leaving early in the morning as part of a small convoy of sailing boats, for a 60NM sail around Cabo de Sao Vicente and enter The Algarve where our travels will then head east for a while.   The sail was magnificent – beautiful weather with perfect wind direction and strength.   We flew the cruising chute for most of the way and made a steady 8knots as we cut through the blue waters on our continued passage south.    Next stop was The Algarve and we prepared ourselves for different winds, hotter temperatures, crowded anchorages and more tourists.   The best was still to come!

Porto – the bar has been set!

If only travel between countries were simple – like the good ol’ days pre-Brexit when a British passport opened borders throughout Europe and counting days spent in each Schengen country was a task left for those who held passports from outside the EU block…..   A British passport is now only useful in the UK and, in fact a New Zealand passport carries a lot more weight when travelling in Europe.   Most European countries are part of the Schengen “block” agreement, which means that when moving between countries in the “block”, you are able to spend a total of 90 in every 180 days in the Schengen region.   This means that, if travelling for more than 90 days, you need to find another country outside the “block to spend time for at least another 90 days before you can re-enter the Schengen region.    However, whether by clever negotiation or as an afterthought, New Zealand passport holders are treated differently.   New Zealanders are able to spend 90 days in each Schengen country but, as this is not widely publicised and is done at the discretion of each country, we wrote to the embassies of all the places we intended to visit and asked them to confirm whether they would honour this agreement.   France and Spain confirmed our understanding was correct but Portugal did not respond.   This meant we needed to do some quick calculations and enter into the “Schengen Shuffle” that a lot of yachties now participate in!

When we check out of Portugal we will need to show we have not stayed for more than 90 days in the Schengen region, so our time in Spain will be included in these 90 days.  This meant that the longer we stayed in Spain, the less time we could have in Portugal and we needed to spend more time in Portugal to make sure we could “bank” our days in Spain for when we head to The Canaries later in the year.   Are you still with me?    Taking all this into consideration we decided to leave Spain, following a last-ditch attempt to get an answer from the Portuguese embassy and despite missing out on some places we had particularly wanted to visit.  

The weather was changing and a southerly blow was forecast which would last for a few days, so we decided to leave while the winds were still northerly and head south towards Porto.   We left our quiet anchorage early and, with the main sail up, motored through the Islas Cies heading out to sea and leaving Spain behind in the hazy morning light.   We set a course which would take us 20 miles out to sea, as we wanted to avoid the fishing pots that are dotted along the Portuguese coastline and to try and find the stronger winds that were forecast further out to sea.  The wind was very light, which meant our 80 mile trip would be very slow if we intended sailing all the way and, as the southerly change was coming, we had to motor for much longer than either of us wanted.   Eventually the promised wind came and we were able to turn off the engine and have a good sail on a poled-out jib with a large pod of dolphins for company.  

I never tire of dolphins.  I love being on the forward deck. hanging over the rails so I see and hear these beautiful creatures.   They continually darted in front of our bow, narrowly missing the hull as they dodged from one side of the boat to the other.   Every so often they would turn on their side and peer up at me as they gently flipped their tail and sped along beside us.   There were families of dolphins of different sizes and it seemed like the sea was boiling with them – everywhere we looked there were dolphins.  It was a wonderful sight.

Over the last year there have been several reported incidents with Orcas “attacking” yachts along the Portuguese and Spanish coasts.   We had heard of three incidents in the last few days where a pod of Orca seemed to deliberately ram boats resulting in the yachts being damaged and having to be rescued and towed into port.   When seeing a dorsal fin approaching at speed, I must admit there are a few seconds of anxiety before, on realising we are being visited by dolphins, the nervousness is quickly replaced by exhilaration!

As we approached our destination and headed closer to shore, we had to both be on watch to navigate through the slalom of fishing buoys, many of which had long poles with a flag on top, but several had these missing so sharp eyes were needed to ensure we didn’t run over any!   We even encountered fishing buoys in 200m of water over 10 miles from the shore!  

We entered the protected harbour of Leixoes in the late afternoon and joined three other boats to spend our first night in Portugal on anchor outside the marina.   In the morning we checked into the small marina and headed into Porto on the metro.   

From the moment we left the metro station, I was in love with Porto.  We climbed the steps from the underground station and in front of us was an old church covered in a pale blue and white mosaic.   The gothic building with these vibrant, fresh colours took my breath away and as we turned around we discovered more beautiful buildings all around five stories tall and mostly had their façade covered in patterned green, blue or yellow tiles.   We had come to Porto with no expectations as we had read or heard very little about it, but within minutes of being in the city we knew this was a place we wanted to spend time in and really get to know.   

We booked a walking tour and met our guide, Eugenia, early one cool, morning in the centre of Porto.  Eugenia was born in Porto and obviously loved her city as she passionately and expertly guided us around her home town, taking us to places off the normal tourist trail and opening our eyes, hearts and minds to this wonderful city.   It was not until the late 1990’s that work began in Porto to refurbish and save the many historic buildings that line the Douro River, when the city centre was classified as a National Monument of Portugal and therefore protected from mass development and saved many of the derelict buildings from being knocked down and replaced.   This meant refurbishing and saving buildings is a very slow and expensive process as there are very strict guidelines and requirements that need to be met, but the result is a beautiful city that has history at every step.  Sadly, the downfall of this is that many of the buildings are now in foreign ownership and there are still large areas of the city where buildings are derelict.    Many may argue that a city should be able to grow and change with the times, otherwise all you are creating in a living museum, but I would argue that an ancient city is one to be treasured and respected.  I believe cities like Porto are more vibrant and economically viable because their historic buildings have been preserved and respected, making it a city people enjoy living in and visiting.  

The history of Porto dates back to 300BC and became a significant port in Roman times.  In 711 it fell under the control of the Moors until it became a centre for Christianity in 868.   For the next few hundred years the city prospered due to shipbuilding, the port and the production of port wine.   The grapes are still grown further up the Douro valley and brought to Porto to be made into Port where the climate is more temperate than the hot summers and cold winters of mid-Portugal.

The buildings in Porto follow many styles from Romanesque and classical to Art Deco and Baroque.   Every turn in the narrow granite cobbled streets had another spectacular vista, building, monument or point of interest which resulted in me being lost for words (if you know me, you’d know that’s quite unusual!), except for saying, “Wow” over and over again.  

Highlights for us were the central city train station with its incredible tiled interior depicting the stages of public transport through the ages; Sao Francisco Church with its incredible baroque interior; the beautiful narrow streets and colourful houses in the old town; The vibrant riverside area of Ribeira, crammed with historic buildings; Ponte Luiz I, Porto’s answer to the Harbour Bridge, designed by the engineer who built The Eifel Tower creating a perfect link to Gaia on the other side of the Rio Douro.   Finally I have to mention the bakeries which are crammed with the most delicious pastries in particular the pastel del nata – a custard tart which became our reward if we had, were going to, or thought we might, walk 10,000 steps – well, that was our excuse to buy one anyway!  

We spent three nights in the marina at Leixoes so we could do some essential boat jobs – change the engine and gearbox oil, change the oil filter, put another layer of varnish on the cockpit table and a few touch-up points in the saloon, scrub the boat and the dinghy and service the watermaker.   With all this achieved, we anchored outside the marina close to the seawall which separated the protected port from a long sandy beach and we could hear the surf crashing on the sand on the other side of the wall.  

On a visit into Porto we noticed a yacht anchored right in the heart of the city on The River Douro.  We went to the river bank to have a closer look and accosted a maritime police officer who was passing by!   We asked if we could also anchor there and he said, “of course…” as if it was the most stupid question anyone had ever asked him!  Filled with excitement at the prospect of spending a few nights in the heart of the city, we returned to the boat and left our anchorage in Leixoes the next morning.  

We sailed down the coast five miles and turned into the mouth of The River Douro.  Once behind the seawall the swell that swept us into the river, calmed down and we slowly made our way up the river.   It was 2hours from high tide and we passed under the very high Ponte de Arrabida with about 40m to spare – even so your eyes to deceive you on the approach and it almost looked like we weren’t going to fit under the long single spanned bridge!    We dropped the anchor behind the boat we’d seen the day before, beside two large pleasure boats which were tied to the wall and the police officer had assured us were currently out of commission.    We were just outside the main channel in about 5m of water, directly infront of Sao Francisco Cathedral and within site of Pont De Luis I, surrounded by colourful buildings on both sides of the river.  We spent the day on the boat making sure the anchor was secure as we swung around our anchor when river traffic passed us and the tide changed.   It was not the quietest or calmest anchorage we’ve had, but it certainly was the most exciting and vibrant!

We spent a week on our anchorage in the centre of the city, leaving the dinghy chained up in a public slipway in Ribeira while we continued to explore Porto visiting a different location every day.  One morning we visited the beautiful Livraria Lello, one of the world’s oldest bookstores, opening in 1906, and thought to have been an inspiration for JK Rowling when creating Hogwarts.   There are normally long queues to get in so we arrived 30 minutes before they opened and didn’t have to wait long before being herded into the small store.   The inside is stunning – floor to high ceiling bookshelves lined with old and new books, stocked by staff wheeling a large trolley along a carriage track imbedded in the wooden floor.   In the centre of the room is a large forked spiral staircase which takes you to a galleried upper level with the most beautiful stained glass skylight.   We then climbed the 240 steps of Clerigos Tower, built of marble in the mid-1700’s for a spectacular view of the city and surrounding countryside.

Of course, it is impossible to avoid mentioning Port and we visited one of the many cellars that are on the south bank of the River Douro in Gaia, overlooking the city.   The fortified wine is produced and made in the Douro valley and transported down to the cellars to be stored, matured and bottled.   There are very strict regulations around producing Port and only wine produced from The Douro Valley can be termed as Port. 

As Covid numbers started to rise again in Porto new regulations came into force which meant either a vaccination certificate or negative covid test had to be shown before going inside a restaurant, café or bar.  We heard that evening curfews were starting, but getting information was difficult as we didn’t know how to access local news.   Sadly, it was time for us to leave this beautiful city and continue south to explore Portugal further as we had heard there were lots of other beautiful locations ahead of us.

Cruising Galicia Rias

It was sad leaving La Coruna – a place we had quickly warmed to and enjoyed being in the friendly marina in the centre of town.  With the wonderful dinner from the previous night still fresh in our minds, (and heavy on our stomachs!) and having just waved Judy off in a taxi, we made our way out of the exposed harbour and back into the wild Atlantic.   

The sea was confused with waves hitting us from the front and side, so we made our way out into deeper water before hoisting the main with one reef and unfurled the yankee (biggest jib).   With the wind on our beam (side) we headed south, chasing a couple of other boats who were heading in the same direction.   I loved the sail and hand steered for the eight hours we were at sea, the skin on my face feeling tight after a full day of wind and little sun.    I can’t describe the feeling of arriving in a new place, happily exhausted from the exercise and sail, while fully in the moment and enjoying the surroundings of an unknown bay.  Easier to say, I was well inside the margins of my happy place! 

We had arrived in Camarinas, a small fishing town on the ominously named Costa da Morte, so called due to the lack of safe harbours to take refuge if the weather changes, resulting in many sailors losing their lives in days gone by.   Fortunately, we did not add to the number of shipwrecks and avoided the numerous navigational hazards in the entrance into Ria de Camarinas.   Ria’s are large fjord-like bays with several inlets and towns located within the sheltered haven.  

We spent a quiet night in the sheltered and shallow bay of Pta de la Vasa before leaving early in the morning to continue our journey south, ahead of some bad weather that would bring southerly winds the next day.   We wanted to get around Cape Finisterre in calm conditions as it has a reputation of being quite nasty and is the most westerly point of mainland Spain.  Named by the Romans Finis terrae means , “the end of the World” and it is quite a foreboding and isolated place.    Sadly, for us there was no wind and we had to motor sail for six hours (with main sail up and engine on) to make sure we arrived in a safe place before the weather changed the following day.   We had entered the long and beautiful region of Rias Baixas (the x is pronounced like a “J”) and, avoiding the many “Bajos” (shallow banks) on the approach, we motored into Ria de Muros just as the weather started to turn.    Wanting a safe place for a couple of nights, we booked into Portosin marina and were shown to a berth close to the entrance and facing the small town.   

As we sat on the boat watching children sailing dinghies in the small harbour, we were surprised to see a large dolphin leap out of the water in front one of the boats with a girl and boy on board.   There were lots of shouts and manoeuvres as it became clear the dolphin was chasing the dinghy and playing with their rudder.   Far from being excited, the girl helming seemed very annoyed until a rescue boat came to her aid.   We were fascinated and then in awe as the dolphin came over to our boat and started swimming under and around us.   It responded to shouts and laughter by coming back and entertaining us for a long time, until we had enough!   Later in the night we were woken by a bubbling sound as the dolphin released oxygen under the boat and then surfaced with a gasp a few seconds later.   This, along with the occasional tap on the side of the boat, continued most of the night and throughout the following day!  The young dolphin made itself resident here eight months ago and has been named Manolo.  He loves human contact and as soon as he hears someone entering, or close to the water, rushes to be with them!   We watched as it spent some time playing with the mooring rope of the boat next to us, scratching itself along the rough line that skirted the top of the water before disappearing under our boat!

Over the next couple of days we explored Portosin with it’s beautiful beaches, took a short bus ride to the busy hub of Noia and then sailed across the bay to picturesque Muros.   We anchored in a small bay close to the town centre and spent a wonderful few hours meandering through the very narrow cobbled 15 century streets.   The distinctive buildings have arched covered walkways to give protection from the rain that is common at the moment!   As we ducked into narrow streets we suddenly found them opening into a large square, bordered by old stone houses with metal balconies overlooking a fountain or statue centred piazza.   We loved the town and stayed for delicious Tapas at a waterfront café before jumping in the dinghy and returning to the boat.    On the short ride back we noticed a large official looking launch hovering around Cerulean.   We waved to the uniformed men on deck as we motored past and was surprised to see them following us.   As we climbed on board they carefully came alongside, asking for our papers.   They informed us they were customs and were not interested in coming on board, only making sure our paperwork was correct and giving us an official form showing we had been cleared so would not be bothered again.   Nice!

In the morning we were woken by a chorus of happy voices, seemingly quite close to us.   We poked our heads out of the hatch and saw a long line of people wading, chest deep in the water just in front of our boat.   They had long cage like rakes in their hands which they scraped the sandy bottom with, scooping their catch into a floating container behind them.   They were collecting shellfish – clams, the local delicacy.

We left our lovely anchorage and headed out of Ria Muros into Ria de Arousa, the next inlet along.  The wind was blowing from the north and we had a wonderful sail until we turned into the Ria when the wind was right on the nose and gaining strength.   We changed our plans as our preferred anchorage would be too exposed with the direction of the wind, so headed to Ribeira on the West side of the Ria.   The deserted sandy beaches stretched from the town and we found a sheltered spot between a couple of islands where we dropped the anchor in the clear water and spent a very relaxed afternoon reading in the sunshine.  

We spent a few days exploring the towns that border Ria de Arousa.   A stop in Pobra do Caraminal, near the top of the Ria, where we stocked up on fresh fruit and vegetables at a market that stretched along the waterfront.    The municipal market sells fish off the boats and there was a long queue for bread which was baked in a huge loaf and the baker cut off the portion wanted.   When we tried it, we found it very dry but very cheap!   The baker could see we had no idea what we were buying so threw in another white loaf for free!  

To shelter from the strong winds, we headed to the top of the Ria and anchored off Rianxo beach, sharing the bay with one other boat – an English couple from Cornwall who had spent the last 16 years living on board their beautiful catamaran, VMG, and cruising the Atlantic and Med.   The weather improved so we enjoyed the hot weather and deserted beach for a few days, relaxing in between catching up on boat jobs!  I varnished our outside table while Steve fitted new cleats in the cockpit. 

We have found this part of Spain a hidden gem, particularly Ria Baixos with its numerous unspoilt beaches, clean water, lots of dolphins, beautiful towns and tree covered hillsides.   Admittedly the weather is not as settled as other regions of Spain, but the landscape and history more than makes up for that.   We know we have been lucky visiting at a time when tourism is almost non-existent.  We have met a number of French boats but very few other visiting nationalities which is very unusual but means we often have anchorages to ourselves and only very seldom see other boats sailing in the same direction!

As we continued our Rias hopping, we stopped off at the beautiful “uninhabited” National Park of Isla Ons.  We had applied, and received, permission to visit and anchor on the small island that lies at the entrance to the next Ria we were heading for.   It is visited by day trippers from nearby holiday resorts but the majority of the people seem to stay near the ferry pontoon and do not venture to the beautiful beaches and bays further north .   We anchored off the white sandy beach of Playa de Melide – a nudist beach, as it turned out – with turquoise waters marking the shallows close to the beach.   We were visiting on the hottest day we had experienced so far in Spain, so it was the perfect time to visit!    We rowed ashore and walked to the lighthouse and part of the way around the approx 5km long island.   It was not uninhabited as we had been led to believe, with a growing community establishing itself close to the ferry terminal.

We decided not to stay overnight on the island as the anchorage was not very protected from the forecast NE winds, so headed to the entrance of Ria de Pontevedra, anchoring close to Porto Novo at a beach that was in stark contrast to the others we had gotten used to in the other Rias!   This one was packed with people and a buoyed safety line prevented boats from getting too close to the beach.   We anchored next to the buoyed line and watched the beach people watching us from afar!  

People remained on the beach until gone 10pm when it is still very light and Tapas were probably only just being served in the local restaurants!    The mornings are dark until 7am, so when we decided to explore the town at 9am the next day, we had the beach to ourselves and most of the shops were firmly shut!    It may have had something to do with the blanket of fog which had descended earlier, leaving a damp and chill morning, but we did manage to find the market which was buzzing with people and lots of fresh fish and vegetable stalls. 

We sailed off our anchorage and made slow, but sedate, progress up the Ria with the wind behind us, towards Combarro, weaving through a yacht race and Viveros (rafts for farming mussels) as we dropped the hook in the lee of Isla Tambo ready to explore the old town of Combarro the following day.   We had just finished dinner when all the other boats sharing the quiet anchorage, pulled up their anchors and left us alone in the calm bay, sandwiched between Combarro with yachts returning to its busy marina, and Marin on the other side of the bay with a large port and naval base.   As we sat on deck, watching the daylight slowly fading, a dolphin came into the bay and slowly swam around us, feeding.  No sooner had the dolphin disappeared when an enormous bang erupted from Marin followed by a number of flashes, puffs of smoke and delayed sound of military firearms.   This continued for about 10 minutes with the firing practice increasing in intensity and then abruptly finishing at 9:00pm just as I had yelled out, “OK, we surrender!   You win!”.  Coincidence or revenge…..?

We left the boat in the island anchorage and motored across to Combarro in the dinghy.   Combarro is an old fishing village, the heart of which has been restored and rejuvenated using historic horreos – small stone storage buildings built on stilts – to house restaurants, bars and shops along the waters edge.  The village is a destination for Spanish tourists but 10am is too early for most Spaniards to start their day, so for a good part of the morning we shared the narrow lanes with only a few other intrepid early risers!    By mid-day the streets were getting busy so we de-bunked back to the boat and prepared for the next day’s departure.  

We had a wonderful sail out to the next Ria, Ria de Vigo, by far the busiest and most built up of all the Rias, but this is primarily due to its warmer climate and close proximity to Portugal.  We had arranged for some spares for our watermaker to be delivered to Vigo and we had heard they had arrived, so were keen to collect them.   We dropped anchor in front the long golden stretch of Cangas beach, across the bay from Vigo and, spent an evening exploring the old centre of town.   This small town was the scene of a Turkish pirate massacre in 1617, leaving many women widowed.  A few years later these widows were charged with being witches, or “Meigas”.  As the sole survivors of a family that had sponsored a church, the women were able to draw income  from the church – their only means of income since their husbands/fathers/sons were killed by the pirates.   The Spanish Inquisition argued these women had used their powers to ensure they were left better off and were charged and tortured.  There are many symbols and a big festival in July to honour these women.

We caught a ferry into Vigo, leaving the dinghy tied to some stone steps in the marina adjacent to the ferry terminal, and walked through this fast growing city to collect our packages.   Vigo is a major port and one of the fastest growing cities in Europe with a population of over 750,000.   It is a sprawling city, spread out along the waterfront with tree covered hills behind and a very large fishing fleet based here.   We weren’t keen to spend too much time in the city so finished our shopping and headed back to the boat, returning before the afternoon wind started to increase, like it does every day.    On returning to the dinghy we discovered our attempt to ensure the dinghy painter had enough scope to float as the tide went out had failed, leaving the inflatable dinghy wedged between some stone steps and the sea wall.   We had to laugh as we walked back, feeling slightly embarrassed as we unwedged the boat and lowered her into the water below!

We decided to stay one more night in our anchorage and shared it with an Irish boat, Toby too, owned by Loulou and Greg.  We had a lovely evening on board their boat drinking local wine and they came for breakfast on board Cerulean in the morning before we both lifted our anchors and headed out the bay, us making for Islas Cies and they set a course for Baiona.     Islas Cies is a group of unspoilt islands at the entrance to Ria de Vigo and have long white soft sand beaches all along the eastern side of the islands.   It was a hot day as we sailed over to the islands and dropped the anchor in a long bay on the south eastern side.   The water was beautifully clear and went from green to dark blue and then turquoise as we got closer to shore.    The island is a bird sanctuary but we sadly saw very few birds other than seagulls.   As we walked to one of the lighthouses, several lizards scampered infront or into the lush foliage that bordered the dusty pathway.    The views from the lighthouse were spectacular and we could see a lot of the coastline we had sailed down as we had made our way south, as well as the hills of Portugal unfolding in the other direction.

With a southerly wind forecast in a couple of days, t was time to prepare to leave Spain and head south to Portugal for the next step on our slow journey home.   Atlantic Spain had been full of surprises, beautiful towns, excellent sailing, great adventure and we leave with wonderful memories from our first taste of this adventure.

La Coruna, Spain – the journey home begins

When we bought Cerulean it was with the knowledge that the engine was reaching the end of it’s useful life.  It had already safely navigated Cerulean across the Atlantic four times and was smelly, dirty, noisy, and leaking oil when we bought the boat.   We spent a lot of time researching engines and companies who could fit the chosen engine before deciding.   We needed an engine that we could rely on and would only require basic regular maintenance to ensure we remained safe and caused the minimal amount of stress.    Reflecting on the last couple of months, this particular refit has been a huge fail.   It has caused a large amount of stress, we do not have confidence in the engine and has been an expensive and frustrating lesson on how not to do a major refit.   This is not how we imagined, or wanted, it to be and makes an already stressful situation, like entering a new marina, even more stressful when we can not trust the engine to work in the way we expect, or it should.

Arriving at Marina Real in La Coruna after a sleepless night in confused seas and wind gusts up to 30knots following four nights at sea, we had hoped for, and needed, a successful and stress-free end to our passage.   The moment we discovered the gear lever was not working properly was at the worst time as we were running out of space to turn without the use of reverse gear to slow us down and help us spin.   We have two engine controls – one by the helm and the other at the internal station.  We tried the internal gear control but it could not over-ride the external one, which was still in gear, so I had no choice but to turn Cerulean towards the stone sea wall and use the bow thruster to spin the bow around.   I yelled at Steve to get ready with a fender to cushion the blow as we approached the stone wall and I prepared myself for the impact.   Luckily, we missed the wall by a few centimetres and headed back out of the marina as the staff and other boat owners yelled at us to try and understand what was happening.   We returned to the safety of the large, protective waters of the harbour while Steve dived into the engine bay to try to understand what had happened.   He quickly discovered a pin had fallen out of the gear control cables which were no longer connected to the engine so managed a temporary fix while we drifted in the calm waters.  

At last, we were able to return to the marina and berth the boat with minimal stress, meeting a number of fellow visiting boatowners as we settled in, all curious about our exciting entrance and quick exit!   One of the visitors was Anton, who we had been in touch with prior to leaving Falmouth and was the recent past commodore of the very exclusive Royal Yacht Club.   Anton made us very welcome, inviting us to join him for a drink at The Royal Yacht Club which we gratefully accepted.  

A doorman stood at the entrance of the “Members only” Club and, on seeing Anton, welcomed us into the dark wood panelled foyer.   The sweeping staircase had flags and historic memorabilia decorating the wall as we were led up the thick carpeted steps to a large, high ceilinged landing with big glass doors.   The doors led into a room with big leather chairs around small tables, creating lots of intimate areas in the big room, dominated by a well stocked mirrored and heavy wood bar with leather bar stools making the whole area feel like an old style gentleman’s club.   We were led out onto the open air deck, choosing a table in the shade as the late afternoon sun still had considerable heat.   We were poured three very generous gin and tonics – in fact more gin than tonic – together with an assortment of tapas to accompany the drinks.   Anton’s English was excellent and we talked about sailing, politics, Spain, La Coruna, family……   We were joined by a lovely friend of Antons, Antonio, who had a kind gentle manner but spoke no English, so we attempted to understand each other with Anton effortlessly switching between English and Spanish to keep us all included in the conversation.   Antonio asked if we liked Anchovies, the local delicacy and promised to leave some for us at the bar the next day.

After two drinks we were wiped out – not just because of the size of the measures (or lack of them!), but because we had not slept for 48hours and were both fading fast.  We returned to the boat, stripped the bed of the duvet and heavy blankets and fell asleep in the lovely heat of Spain!

The next day was spent cleaning and tidying up in preparation for when my sister, Judy arrived later that afternoon.   Judy lives in France and this was the only opportunity we had to see each other, so we were excited to be able to welcome her on board Cerulean and explore the area together.    

Face masks were mandatory when outside and everyone conformed, probably because of the terrible first and second wave death numbers Spain experienced in 2020.   I walked along the wide granite pavement into the large open waterfront area, lined with old 5 – 6 storied buildings, all with small rectangular windows, white covered balconies and orange tiled roofs overlooking the city centre marina and greeted Judy in the afternoon sunshine.    We went out for our first meal of Tapas, led by Judy translating the menu, following the advice of a Spanish friend who recommended some local delicacies including squid, octopus and pimientos – small fried red peppers, washed down with some local beer.   Everything was delicious.

The next day, after visiting the police station to officially check in to Spain, we went to meet a friend of Judy’s who had just arrived in his boat from France.  He was sailing it south with four friends and it was a lucky coincidence that they arrived at the same time as Judy!   We went on board his beautiful 53ft yacht – Tara Waka – built in New Zealand 20 years ago and still looking like new.   Etienne has another boat, called Tara and runs an organisation called The Tara Ocean Foundation which carries out environmental and scientific research around the world.   In fact, Tara is Sir Peter Blakes old boat and he was on it carrying out research when he tragically died in December 2001.   Etienne’s foundation bought the boat and continued Sir Peters work and vision.  

We had a wonderful time with Judy, exploring La Coruna and the area around it together.   We sailed out to Sada, just to the north of La Coruna, and anchored in front of a long, beautiful, deserted beach.  Judy and Steve swam off the boat while I lazed on board pinching myself that, at last, the dream was becoming a reality!    We walked to the Tower of Hercules, the oldest working lighthouse in the World and a UNESCO World Heritage site.   It was built by the Romans in the 1st century and stands 55m tall, overlooking the Atlantic.   We took the train to Santiago de Compostela and toured the spectacular cathedral – the destination of millions of pilgrims who walk the Camino de Santiago – something I have wanted to do for years.  The walk has been closed to tourists for 18 months so the square in front of the cathedral, which is normally packed with people celebrating the end of their Camino walk, was virtually empty.  We felt hugely privileged to be able to experience this beautiful place without hordes of tourists.   The town was founded in 813 and a small church was built in the 11th Century which has been built on to create a magnificent cathedral. It was added to during the baroque period in the 18th century and a very elaborate, quite gaudy nave overpowers the beautiful romanesque architecture. A large incense holder hangs from the centre of the nave which is swung by a team of men at the end of Mass.

On Judy’s last night we were invited to join Anton for dinner at the Royal Yacht Club.  Even though we were almost next to the Club on the boat, to get there is quite a walk and it had been pouring with rain all day.  Anton arranged for us to be delivered to the Yacht Club by boat, so one of the marina staff came to collect us at 8:30pm to motor us across the water!   We felt very privileged as we stepped ashore in our finery!   The doorman welcomed us and ushered us upstairs as we removed our wet sailing jackets.   Anton was a fabulous host.  We were wined, dined and entertained until the small hours when we all started to fade.  Judy was leaving early in the morning for France and we intended to leave the marina to head south, something Anton felt certain we would delay once we relooked at the weather in the morning!

The next day started early with a sad farewell to Judy.  We really enjoyed having her on board for five days and loved the memories we created, exploring and experiencing new things together.   Having family and friends share in this adventure means the world to us.

Anton was wrong – after we had topped up our water tanks, we headed out of the marina and, with one reef in the main, bounced through the large waves and headed south.   New adventures were waiting and we didn’t want to delay experiencing more of Spain.

Destination Spain

A couple of days before the planned departure date, we anchored in our special, secluded spot up the Helford River, sharing it on the first night with about four other boats, all of whom left on Sunday morning, leaving us to enjoy the peaceful tranquillity of the surrounding countryside.

We finished jobs, prepared meals for the passage, made a new protective cover for the outboard and re-installed Jacklines (safety lines which run the length of the boat which we tether to when leaving the safety of the cockpit), re-instated Hilda, the hydrovane and checked the weather.   We decided to take a quick trip to Helford to top up on perishables and while there stopped to have a quick, last English pint in the beautiful thatched Shipwright Inn with its waterfront views and convenient pontoon where we left the dinghy.  

Jason had sailed out to see us with a couple of friends and as we were returning to the boat we said goodbye as they slowly made their way back down the river, weaving through the moored boats on their way to St Mawes.  

Before we left there was the small matter of Steve’s phone to deal with!   After a frantic search, retracing of steps and general mild panic we came to the conclusion it must have fallen out his back pocket while sitting in the dinghy and was probably now at the bottom of the river somewhere between the pub and our boat!    As this was our only phone with a UK SIM card and therefore the only means of us having internet, it was an essential tool for, not only communication, but in order for us to get vital information for our imminent passage as well as once we were in Europe.   With no alternative, we rose early on Monday morning (the morning of our planned departure) and headed back into Falmouth for one last time.

We anchored close to the town centre and were the first customers in the Vodafone store, where we were helped by a lovely team who assured us a replacement SIM could take 24hrs to be activated but was more likely to be 10 minutes.   Thank goodness it took just 10 minutes and also that we’d brought an old replacement phone from NZ, just in case it was needed!    Now we could finish all the preparations required to leave later that day.  

We had ordered a SIM card for our satellite phone and this had taken longer to arrive than anticipated – in hindsight a mistake, we should have done this much earlier.   We had spent time investigating different options as the cost of using a satellite phone is very high, but it is an important safety tool and means of getting regularly up to date weather information.   While I did some washing, made sure everything was stowed correctly, baked cakes and made up a bed for us to sleep in on passage, Steve frantically tried to get the satellite phone working.   It’s not a simple case of slotting a SIM card in and making a call – at least not with our Iridium fixed phone (which came with the boat).   It needs to be connected to a router, aerial and computer and they all need to talk to each other first which meant downloading and installing software before going through the set-up requirements!   Fortunately we have another means of getting updated weather through our SSB (Single Band radio – like a Ham radio), which is a beast of a contraption located on top of the wardrobe in our berth!

With washing almost dry, a quick catch-up and farewell from Jonathan, (a friend of Bea and Andy’s) who was passing in his fast RIB, we lifted the anchor, topped up our large tank with water and at 1830hrs headed out of Falmouth for the final time.   Bright evening sunshine, clear skies and a lovely breeze gave us the perfect full stop to our long UK chapter.  Our family, friends and 15 months of precious memories were very much in our thoughts as Cerulean, weighed down with water, fuel and provisions, cut through the calm waters at 6 knots under three sails and wind coming from the west. 

The Bay of Biscay has a well-earned reputation of being a stretch of water to fear and be well prepared for changing conditions.   Forecasting accurate weather for a 4-5 day trip is not possible, even with today’s incredible technology, so there was a feeling of jumping off the abyss as we made progress towards France.   We had chosen a weather window that offered light winds, not always in the preferred direction but a promise of calm seas for the first three days, at least, which we felt was more important for our first major voyage across unknown waters.  The wind models we studied gave different predictions but a couple agreed on a band of northerly winds developing inside the Bay close to the French coast.   This made us change from our original plan of sailing south west past the Isles of Scilly and turning south when in line with the coast of Spain therefore avoiding most of the busy shipping lanes and fishing areas.  However, all the wind predictions showed light wind from the south which would not make for a quick or pleasant passage, so taking the in-shore route to capture the wind seemed like the best option.   We wanted to avoid the shipping lanes as much as possible so headed west of Ouessant before tacking and heading south east following the coast of Britanny which we would have loved to explore but the Covid situation in France and the uncertainty around visiting yachts coming from the UK prevented us from stopping.  

The next few days were sunny and calm with light winds.  It took us 36 hours to get into a good routine of sleeping but once we were over the initial period of not sleeping and being on high alert, we both coped well with our 3hr watches and grabbed sleep whenever we needed it during our off watch times.   Hilda, the Hydrovane, was the perfect crewmate.   She kept us on course most of the time and our love for her easy set-up and ingenious design was often commented on.  Using her meant we did not need to use the autopilot at all while sailing, saving us valuable power which could be used for other important things, like the fridge, powering electronics and even boiling the kettle instead of using our gas cooker.  

The other major win was the way we received updated weather forecasts and weather routing.   Steve had worked hard to ensure we had a couple of methods to download information but our preference was to use our SSB and he had been testing this system for the last few weeks with moderate success.   We had anchored in some areas where the required connection kept failing and we were concerned it may prove too unreliable while at sea, hence the need for the satellite phone as a back-up.   In fact getting our weather through the SSB while on passage never failed and was the cheapest, quickest and best means of communication we had. 

We had chosen to leave Falmouth in the early evening so we could be at the start of the busy shipping lane in daylight.   Crossing it is a little like trying to cross a multi-laned motorway while wearing concrete shoes!   We were only travelling at walking pace while all the rest of the traffic were Olympic runners compared to us!   We weaved our way through the large tankers, finding gaps in the perfect places and popped out the other side with relief – now all we had to deal with were fishing boats who often don’t us AIS (GPS tracking) so we needed to remain on watch and alert.  

After the first night with no sleep, I started to develop a migraine – an annoying recent condition I’ve developed which only seems to happen when I’m over tired, but when it starts I find it hard to be my cheerful self until the pain and numbness in my face dissipates.   While my spirits ebbed, Steve’s flowed as his confidence and enjoyment grew.   Seeing this made me feel so much better as we made our way south towards warmer weather, chasing the promised northerly winds.

We were surprised one morning by a swift landing on the boat and staying with us for a while, at one point briefly flying into the cabin before gathering enough energy to head back towards land. As we entered Spanish waters we were welcomed by an armada of dolphins, surrounding us as they headed towards Cerulean at great speed, leaping out of the water and swimming around us for some time before leaving and then returning several times throughout the next couple of days.

Just as daylight started to fade on the third night, the wind started to veer further north.  It was so tempting to follow this wind change and head straight to La Coruna but we decided to be patient and continue south as the forecast models showed a stronger better wind belt if we were prepared to take the risk.   If we headed straight for our final destination, the forecast showed us sailing out of the northerlies and into no wind before turning southerly, so we waited.  We took the opportunity to try out our new cruising chute and made good speed in very light winds, enjoying the peace and quiet and warm sunshine.

We were making our passage at a time where there was no moon – not by choice but an unfortunate clashing of dates, timing and weather!   The benefit of no moon was we were treated to an incredible display of light-unaffected clear skies making the universe appear in all its glory around us!   The disadvantage being the dark nights which were very short, with light starting to appear at 4am and remain in the sky until around 11pm.  As we cut through the water phosphorescent sparkled in our wake and, under the moonless skies, I found this quite magical and mesmerising.   Our days were busy – observing, planning, checking, reading, sleeping, talking, preparing, plotting, noting and tweaking – if you were thinking we would be bored or restless, think again!   We were both relaxed, happy and excited to see our slow progress as we plotted our course on a paper chart of the Bay of Biscay spread across the table in the saloon.

We are lucky on Cerulean to have a choice of berths to use while on passage.  We have three cabins – our main one is at the back of the boat and has a large, very comfortable bed.   While sailing in calm conditions it is a perfect place to sleep as you can snuggle up with plenty of room to stretch out and lots of airflow coming through.   It is not a good place to try to sleep when the engine is on or when activities (ie sail or course adjustment), is required in the cockpit as noise reverberates through the cabin.  The forward berth has become a storage space for sails and other bulky items so, for this passage it was not available to sleep in.   The passage berth is where we stored all our non-perishable food but the top bunk had been kept clear as an alternative bed while at sea and I had made it up with clean sheets and warm blankets.   Located in the centre of the boat it is the most stable place to be when rolling in the Atlantic swell which is always present in the Bay of Biscay, regardless of weather conditions.   Although hard to climb into once there the top bunk was a great place to sleep and watch the sea from the portlight located at the head of the bed while being cocooned from the noises happening in other parts of the boat.

On day four the wind started to increase along with the waves and by early evening we had reefed (made smaller) the main sail.    As the wind continued to increase we put a second reef in the main and sailed on just the small, forestay, jib, still making over 8 knots as we surfed down the waves and battled the ones hitting us on the beam (side).   We were within sight of land now and rounded the exposed Cabo Prior at sunrise still keeping a good distance out to avoid the shallowing (although still deep) waters that create more sea swell.  

At last we saw the white buildings of La Coruna in the distance and, with the seas settling calming as we sailed further away from Cabo Prior and closer to our destination.   We were both tired from no sleep but happy as we dropped the sails and turned into the very sheltered Marina Real where one of the helpful team was waiting to direct us to our berth.    As we approached the pontoon I pulled the gear stick towards me to put the engine into neutral and then reverse to slow down.    Nothing happened.   I could still hear we were in gear and putting the stick in reverse only resulted in us going faster forward.    We were running out of room and I was not certain I could spin the boat around in the space left between the pontoon and the stone sea wall…..

High and Dry

I’m going to start with some boat basics so forgive me if you know this already….!   A boat is moved forward by a propellor, which sits at the end of a shaft.  The shaft comes through the bottom of the boat and is driven by the engine.   Where the shaft comes through the hull, there needs to be a good seal to stop water entering the boat.   This is called the Stern Gland and as the shaft is continually turning when the engine is in gear, to ensure it does not get overheated they are normally kept cool by ensuring plenty of grease or water is surrounding them.   Ours is water cooled, which normally is linked to the engine and provides a loop – what in at the stern gland and out with the engine exhaust.  During installation the hose connected to the engine had not been installed, which in itself was not too bad, providing the loose end was safely secured above waterline.   This had not happened, and during our earlier engine work, must have been knocked into the engine bilge allowing water to flow freely and unnoticed for a few hours.

Having removed all the water from the bilge, we motored back up the river that was now very familiar to us.   To cut a long story short(er), the re-pitching of the prop was not a success and, after spending another night in the boatyard and relaunched on the morning high tide, we found ourselves back in the boatyard a few hours before the late afternoon high tide.   Richard worked furiously on the propellor and Graham, the boatyard manager, returned at 9pm to refloat us for the last time, as the boatyard was closing the next day.   We did a quick sea trial as we headed over to St Mawes to anchor for the night and meet up with a friend, Jason, the next day.  

We spent a few days in Falmouth and St Mawes, enjoying the peaceful surroundings of this lovely village, working through our job list and having our second Covid vaccinations.  From our anchorage in St Mawes we could see three castles and felt very privileged as we watched numerous ferries bringing day trippers into the picturesque village while we had the luxury of being in the quiet bay and able to enjoy the landscape and pretty houses at our ring-side location!   Jason rowed over for breakfast one morning and, as he was returning to shore, rowed into our neighbours steel boat, hitting them with a loud crash.   We were blissfully unaware of this until we caught up with Jason later, so decided to visit our neighbours and apologise for their rude awakening.   Adam and Marie had moved on board their 48ft boat, Hyperion, two years ago with their two lovely young children, Ella (9) and Aiden (10).  We spent a little time getting to know each other, enjoying the relaxed conversation and shared experiences that I love about the sailing community.

Richard had been in touch and told us he wanted to have another go at changing the pitch on the propellor as our revs were still not quite right.   As the boatyard was now closed and the other yards had at least one month waiting list, the only option was for us to dry out alongside a wall.   Fortunately Tim and Emmie on Shadowfax, our sister boat, had used a wall at the Royal Cornwall Yacht Club to dry out a couple of weeks earlier and Steve had the foresight to spend a little time observing the set-up of the procedure.   We arranged to borrow a couple of big fenders, cleared some rocks off the beach where our keel would sit and talked to the Yacht Club bosun who was very encouraging and supportive when seeing our nervous anticipation at the thought of deliberately grounding our home when we have done it accidently, badly in recent times!

Forty five minutes before high tide, we slowly starting weaving our way through the moored boats towards the wall.   As the approach is very shallow we did not want to leave it too long before high water, and definitely not after high water, just in case we misjudged the depth and ran aground.   High tides were getting lower as we were heading towards neaps (when the difference in height between high and low tides is at the lowest), so we knew that if we did not dry out on that day, there would not be another opportunity for over a week.   We were making progress to the wall when we noticed another boat approaching and watched with horror as they tied up alongside leaving no room for us.   We stopped Cerulean and tried to find out whether they were intending to remain there or just load up and go.   For ten minutes we circled, unsure whether we would still be able to take advantage of the very small window that we thought we had.   At last we saw the other boat leave and we quickly got into position and slowly came alongside, watching the depth get lower as we approached the wall until only 0.2m of water was below the keel.   Once safely tied up we then had to ensure we remained in the correct position while the tide went out so when we did touch the bottom it would not damage the boat or fall over.   We attached one of our halyards (line from the top of the mast used to pull up sails), to a secure point in the lawn to try and give the boat a slight lean and ensure we did not fall away from the wall when the tide went out.    Then we waited!   In fact there was a little more water than we had first thought and it took about an hour and a half for us to hear a thud and shake as the keel settled on the sandy bottom.  While we waited for all the water to ebb away, there was a steady string of interested visitors wanting to know about the boat, our plans, the work we were doing while we were drying out – many times we repeated ourselves but we enjoyed meeting everyone.

High tide was at 9:45pm so with Richard having completed the re-pitch, we re-floated and went to test the engine in the evening light.   Our short motor across the bay to St Mawes seemed to deliver very positive results with the engine getting to maximum revs and us speeding along at almost 8 knots – our maximum hull speed.  

The next morning Jason and his friend, Robert came on board for breakfast just as Marie and Adam on Hyperion were heading out of the bay towards Falmouth.   We waved to them as they sailed past in the light morning breeze.   Jason and Robert were keen to talk to us about the boat as they were also looking to sail to NZ.   We had a fun breakfast with them and as soon as they left we pulled up the anchor and followed Hyperion to the Falmouth Marina where they were being hauled out.   It was late afternoon when we checked our phone and had several missed calls from Jason.  He told us he and Robert were sailing up the river when they heard one side of a Pan Pan (an emergency call to the Coastguard where a boat is in trouble but lives are not at imminent risk).  The call was from a boat taking on water as they were sailing east along the coast from Falmouth, and the boat’s name was Cerulean!  Knowing our past record, Jason and Robert contacted the Coastguard to ask if they could assist and were told it was all in hand, so they sailed on to the pub instead!   Jason was relieved to hear we were safely in a marina and, this time the boat taking on water, was not us!

We stayed in the marina for two nights.  On the first night we had the Hyperion crew staying with us as their boat was out of the water and the marina wouldn’t allow them to stay on board.   On leaving the marina we filled our fuel tanks with 630 litres of diesel which almost broke the bank but comforted us to think it will, hopefully, last us at least six months so eased the pain a little!    When paying for diesel you pay 20% tax on 60% of the total for using the fuel to propel the boat, and no tax on 40% for heating.  The diesel is dyed red to prevent it being used in cars and some European countries are not happy about UK boats using red diesel and may insist tax is paid on the remaining fuel, although this does not happen very often. 

Richard came on board to complete the final few jobs while his lovely dog, Rusty, patiently waited in the cockpit in the afternoon sun.   One of the jobs he did was to fix our bilge pump floater switch which we hope we will never need again!  We said a fond farewell to Richard, hoping to see him in Spain in a couple of weeks as he had an opportunity to crew on a super yacht.  I’m not sure Richard believed us when we said we were really leaving in a few days!

Bea and Andy returned from their holiday in Northern Ireland so we arranged for them, and their lovely house guests, Lilian and Turki, to come sailing.  Sadly the rain arrived so the sail in great winds was a little damp, but our spirits were high and we all enjoyed the wind in our faces while Cerulean sped along at 7-8 knots with the new main and yankee (large sail at front of boat) filled.   Bea has joined the crazy trend of cold weather swimming and swam off the boat as we all marvelled at her courage and commitment! 

We said what we hoped would be our final goodbye to Bea and Andy as we left them in Helford Passage and motored up the river to continue our preparations for the long journey ahead of us as we prepared to leave the UK in two days.

Groundhog Day

Early on a calm and sunny Friday morning in mid May, we were welcomed back to the boatyard by the wonderful team of Graham, Trevor and James who expertly manoeuvred us into the slings for the third time in as many weeks and hoisted Cerulean out before lifting her into a cradle located close to the slipway.   Since our last visit the yard had been cleared of the majority of the other boats with just a few left to be launched.   The G7 forum was taking place in Cornwall in early June and several large spaces had been commandeered by the organisers to cater for the huge media contingency expected for the three day event.   The boatyard was one of these spaces and all boats needed to be cleared by the 28 May so preparations could be completed for when the delegates arrived ten days later.   Graham was under pressure to not only meet this deadline, but meet it early so work to transform the boatyard could commence.  

The new gearbox had arrived so we left Gary to get to work removing the one currently installed.   The new one had been delivered unpainted, so it was sprayed red (to match our engine) and left to dry, ready to be fitted the following Monday.   We spent the night on the boat in the empty boatyard waking up early to eagerly greet the security guard who was unlocking the toilet block, desperately willing him to move faster!  

I left Steve working on the boat while I jumped on a train and headed to Truro to meet Jocs, Tina and Andrew, friends/family who were down from London visiting friends for the weekend.   I hadn’t met Sally and her husband, Peter, before but had heard a lot about them over the years, so was really pleased to finally get to see them in their beautiful home.   It felt so good to be able to catch up with friends again after such a long period of isolation, particularly as I had hoped that our extended stay in the UK meant we would see more of them and our other friends.

Bea and Andy had left earlier that day to drive to Liverpool, catch a ferry to Northern Ireland and spend time with their daughter and grandchildren.   They had left Lilian and Turki in charge of the house, garden and chickens for the month they were away so we decided to keep them company for a few days and enjoy a couple of nights on solid ground.   Lilian and Turki are from Palestine and we loved getting to know them over our few days together, particularly as the renewed fighting between Israel and Palestine was escalating and we were able to learn more about what life is like living in such a conflicted region.  It made us appreciate our privileged lives even more, particularly when hearing of the daily challenges, racism and obstacles this beautiful young couple endured and still grapple with.   Bea and Andy have given them a fantastic opportunity to make a life together in Cornwall and they deserve success and happiness.  

Turki made us a special lunch one day of beautiful breads and a feast of Eastern delicacies which we devoured greedily, loving the flavours and textures of each dish which he had effortlessly produced.   I think they found our dinner offerings very bland in comparison to the amazing flavours of their cooking!

We were heading back to the boat on Monday afternoon, our bags bulging with clean laundry, leftovers from lunch and on-line shopping deliveries, when the phone rang.    There was a problem with the new gearbox and a fault had been discovered which meant a new one needed to be ordered from Beta and wouldn’t arrive until the next day so our splash date would be delayed until Wednesday at the earliest!   Feeling despondent we returned with Turki and Lilian for another night off the boat.  

A storm was forecast for Thursday morning which meant that any problems with the gearbox being fitted by Wednesday mid-day would delay our re-launch until the following Monday.   We spent Tuesday night on the boat with the hope of an early launch on Wednesday morning but when it became evident this was not going to happen, we left the boat clear to allow uninterrupted access to the engine bay so the work could be completed while we strolled into town and then to our favourite café, Muddy Beach.   We had become regulars at the café and the wonderful staff always welcomed us like old friends, delivering our coffee to the table before we’d even ordered it and preparing delicious food from their great menu.   As we left we said a fond farewell to them all, as we believed this would be our last visit before we start our journey south.  

On our return the gearbox was in place and we were ready to be re-launched with huge expectations this would be the final obstacle to overcome in the long saga of our engine refit.   Graham and his team arrived to hoist us at 1pm, already 2hrs after high water, which did not give us much time to test out the new gearbox.   It was with some trepidation we started the engine and revved her up in neutral and then in gear.  We were all looking at the rev counter to see whether we could get above the 1800 revs we were stuck on at previous attempts to confirm the engine would achieve maximum load and propel us at the top speed.    It failed, again.   We were all devastated. While letting this slowly sink in and try to understand what would happen next, we were firmly reminded that the tide was going out fast, and we would need to leave the slipway now to make it safely down the river.    As the enormity of this situation was being processed, we were pushed off the pontoon and motored back down the river to look for a safe place to shelter for a few nights until the strong winds abated.  

Our first call was to Richard.  He had come to see us while we were on the boat and had taken measurements and angles of the prop in order to gather as much information as possible, in case there was a problem (legend!).  That information would proof invaluable as we tried to unpick what had, was and would be happening to resolve this frustrating situation.    The definition of madness is repeating the same thing over and over and expecting different results, so before adjusting the prop again, we wanted to make sure there was no other possible cause of this lack of engine power as it seemed everyone was solely focused on the prop being the issue.  Richard was wonderful and agreed to accept the challenge of piecing together what had happened and assess the whole situation before jumping to any conclusions.    

Steve collected Richard in the dinghy from nearby Malpas during a break between rain and strong winds.  He immediately started systematically going through and checking each part of the motor – fuel, air, water, cables, aquadrive ……   we were really hoping for something definitive, something that could be switched/pumped/crimped/tightened/cleaned but there was nothing that stood out.   We had noticed a wobble in the aquadrive (a flexible link between the engine and propellor shaft) as we were powering up and Richard felt this could be something to address but was not 100% sure this would resolve our lack of power issue.   With no immediate solution it was decided we would be hauled out the following Wednesday for what we hoped would be the final time to try and resolve things, once and for-all.  With time ticking away, and only one week until our final Covid vaccine, things were really coming down to the wire to try and resolve this problem before we left.

The strong winds continued to buffer us for five days and we moved from our safe protected mooring on the Truro River and returned to Falmouth as Richard had arranged for us to have a marina berth from early Tuesday morning so he could tinker with the engine again on the Tuesday morning in a final attempt to avoid us being lifted out again on the Wednesday morning.   The strong winds blew unabated all night as we spun around our mooring buoy infront of Shadowfax, our sister boat, with Tim and Emmie on board who were preparing to leave for The Scilly Isles at the earliest opportunity.  

In the morning we headed to Port Pendennis marina and carefully berthed in a very tight space, squeezing in between Super Yachts and expensive cruisers as we nervously negotiated the strong winds and tide in the small berth we had been allocated.   After a hot shower, coffee and a full load of washing done, Richard arrived and started work.  His head was buried in the engine compartment most of the day as the rain continued to beat down and the howling of the wind occasionally broken with a shout of triumph, despair or bewilderment until the alignments were completed.   Every day we spend with Richard we learn more about his many talents and skills.  We feel so privileged and lucky to have met him and had him work on our boat – he loves a challenge and we presented him with a few that he accepted with relish!  

The next day we were woken by the noise of a big boat arriving in port.  The sound of the engines reverberated through our cabin as our bed is just below the waterline.   A large cruise ship, The Viking Venus, was arriving in Falmouth on its first cruise since the start of the pandemic.  

Richard arrived early (for once!) and we cast off, celebrating the light winds and overcast skies as we headed out into the bay to put the engine through its paces and see what was, and was not, behaving as expected.    The result was positive – a definite improvement and our first encouraging sign that things were moving in the right direction at last! 

We dropped Richard off at the marina and anchored nearby with the intention of waiting until the tide turned so we could fill our tanks with diesel in preparation for our departure to Spain the following week.   While we were waiting, we were given the option of being hauled out that evening for relaunch in the morning instead of first thing in the morning, so the pitch of the propellor could be adjusted one last time.    Wanting to get everything sorted as quickly as possible, we jumped at the opportunity and started preparing the boat for yet another hoist.   There was little wind and we were quite relaxed on the anchor as we slowly put things away enjoying the quiet and sedate pace…. Until we heard the faint sound of running water.   On lifting the engine compartment we found a lot of water in the bilge and more coming in (note to self, why was the bilge alarm not working??), even though we had turned off all the through hull fittings but where was it coming from?        We discovered the culprit was a hose that was lying in the bottom of the bilge, spurting water as if a tap had been left running on a garden hose.   We urgently tried to find out where the other end of this hose was connected, pulling up carpets and flooring in our desperate attempt to stop the water.   Eventually, having managed to stop the water by holding the hose upright, we slowly made our way back up the river to be hauled out while pondering on how close we had been, yet again, to loosing our boat, home and dreams…….

In, out, shake it all about

Life living on board a boat tends to go in ebbs and flows.  Some days are relaxed when we can enjoy exploring new places; a few days are filled with elation when we manage to complete jobs which may have taken a few attempts to complete; others are filled with frustration when, despite endless research and planning, nothing goes to plan, some are very social when we meet new people, or old friends visit and finally a few days are stressful as we might be “sailing in unchartered waters” and need to repair/work out how to do things on our own or enter new, unfamiliar harbours.   Fortunately, at the moment we have an army of experienced and knowledgeable people on hand who can help us with the latter while we get on with the former!

After a few days sheltering from some strong Easterly winds up the beautiful Truro River, waiting to find out what the next move was on fixing our prop, Richard (our trusted electrician and master of all trades), secured us a place at Pendennis Marina in the centre of Falmouth.   We had a number of jobs to complete left over from before we launched and a couple of niggly issues that needed to be resolved. 

Billy, our go-to marine electronics guy, visited us when we arrived to try and work out why our depth sounder kept losing signal – an annoying and dangerous trait we needed to get fixed as it seemed to happen at the worst possible times leaving us to guess the actual depth which is not an ideal situation, especially considering my recent history!   In addition to this, we had Roy visit us to service our fire extinguishers.  Roy was wonderful and came up with some good alternative solutions for our engine bay automatic extinguishers which saved us a substantial amount of money while increasing the range of the extinguishers if there was a fire.

Richard rode in on his white steed (read “van”) on Friday afternoon and set about completing the short, but essential, list of electrical jobs we had identified.   Three days later we helped Richard pack up his tools after he completed the list of essential tasks, including fixing the watermaker (elation) which turned out to be a very lucky find as a couple of wires were arcing and a fuse had become so hot it had started melting, and finish wiring/installing our final solar panel.   With everything now working as it should, we decided to remain in the marina for a couple of extra nights as strong winds were forecast and it seemed pointless having a few stressful nights on anchor when we had the opportunity of a protected, safe berth.

Cafes and bars with outside seating opened in mid-April and Falmouth was seeing an increasing number of visitors.   We met some friends (social), Helen and Mick, who were visiting their daughter in Falmouth over the early Spring Bank Holiday weekend; invited William and Louise (social) over to the boat for coffee and caught up with Bea and Andy for a drink in a nearby bar.   While in town Steve managed to buy a particular Cornish pasty he had been hankering after from our local café, after several earlier failed attempts as we had arrived too late and they had already sold out.   We called in early and, much to Steve’s hungry joy, found there was one still available.   I could almost see his mouth dripping with anticipation at the thought of devouring this much looked forward to pasty.  We started walking back to the boat with Steve eating the pasty which was happily living up to his expectations.   He was about to take a bite from the remaining half when a large seagull suddenly appeared from behind him, swooped down and with incredible accuracy, took the rest of the pasty, just as Steve was about to bite down on it – all done with such precision and so fast, the gull did not even touch Steve in the process! 

Bea and Andy invited us for dinner on our last night in the marina.   We had a lovely evening together with lots of conversation, laughter, good food, great company and maybe a little drink or two!   Our times together are always so special and I have loved and valued the long winter we have spent with them both.   Their company, patience and love has been wonderful and we feel humbled by their generosity.   This was almost certainly the last time we will spend a full night with them on this trip and the thought of not knowing if/when we will share such special times with them again makes my heart lurch and throat ache.  Bea and Andy have sold their boat and bought a mobile home so they can visit their daughter and grandchildren in Northern Ireland as well as hopefully head to Europe in the middle of May. 

Big winds continued to buffer the Cornish coastline so we returned to our previous bolthole up the River Truro while we waited to be notified of our next haul out date.   We had been in touch with the owners of the sister boat to Cerulean called Shadowfax who were visiting Falmouth.   We made our way up the river and dropped anchor next to them before catching up with Tim and Emmie on board Cerulean (more social).   It was lovely to meet them as we had been in touch with each other for over a year and we had followed and listened to their exciting sailing adventures to far off places in their lovely boat.   The two boats have the same layout but, because Seastreams were privately commissioned, each boat has a very different feel and design features.     Tim flew his drone and took some wonderful pictures of our boats sharing a beautiful anchorage.  The next day we were joined by Remi, another Seastream 43 but this time a MK2 so a little older and a ketch (two masts).   It was a privilege to have the three boats together for the first time and share experiences, hear sailing plans and learn more about these wonderful boats.

One day, while Steve and I sheltered from the cold rain and wind we heard a twang and then thud outside.   A strange noise on a boat always puts you in high alert and I spun around to see two red webbed feet sticking up on the deck.   A duck had tried flying through our rigging and must have mistimed his flight, hitting the starboard shroud with a twang and hitting the deck with a huge thud.  Sadly it did not survive the experience and we now had a dead duck bleeding on the deck!   We were in a quandary – as we don’t eat meat any more and couldn’t deal with the gutting and plucking of a (still warm) dead duck, do we keep it and offer it to someone else or give it a burial at sea?   Before I could decide, Steve threw the recently deceased mallard into the water and we watched it float away!   A short while later, when retelling the story, we regretted the decision as several people would have been keen of the gift of the beautiful bird.

Our first, multi-staying guests arrived in early May and we welcomed Marion and Suzanne on board (more social) as we collected them from Port Pendennis Marina.  I shared a house with Suz and Marion in Cambridge in the early 80’s and Steve and I had travelled back to the UK 18 months earlier for Suz’s 60th birthday celebrations.   Knowing the weather was going to be bad for the next couple of days, we took advantage of the light winds and sailed up the Truro River.  Suz and Marion had taken the train from London and we were all excited at being able to spend four days on the boat – the longest time we’ve had together for nearly 40 years!    The weather forecast was accurate and during the night the heavens opened, the temperature dropped and the wind spun us around in our sheltered anchorage, keeping the four of us hunkered down in the cabin together.   Unfortunately Marion became more and more unwell and we all became extremely concerned about her as her temperature sore and she was obviously not her normal happy self.    The next day, with Marion still not well, we headed back to Falmouth and picked up a mooring close to the town centre so, if needed we could seek medical help.   Suz, Steve and I were able to get off the boat, leaving Marion to rest while we went for a walk.   

Suz and Marion’s stay was extended by two days due to all trains being cancelled on the GWR line which covers SW England long distance travel.  This was a bonus for several reasons – more time together, Marion could continue recovering from her bug (not Covid!) and we could enjoy the improved weather and sail to other bays.   When they left us after six days together, it was with sadness but also happy in the knowledge they had experienced a taste of what our life is like living on anchor.  

While Suz and Marion were with us, we were hauled out for the third time to try and discover why the engine was not performing as we would expect.    Just before we were due to relaunch we managed to talk to a very informative man at Darglow, the manufacturer of our propeller.  He informed us that we had the wrong gearbox ratio and our current propeller was too big for the gearbox on the new engine.   As we launched I was still talking to the technician on the phone and passed this information on to the engineer who had installed the new engine.   Fortunately, after an initial stressful and upsetting time letting the discovery sink in, it was agreed they would cover the cost of a new gearbox and haul us out again to fix the problem.  

After spending a lovely final evening in the company of Bea and Andy and Louise and William we were lifted again for what, we hoped, was the final time before leaving the UK a few weeks later.   In the last 12 months we have been lifted out the water five times, which is four times more than most other boats, so our hopes were high that this time everything would  go smoothly. Oh, how naive we were!!!!

Sh*tty Sh*tty Bang Bang!

The day we launched, and for a few days afterwards, our spirits were flying high.   We headed up the River Fal towards Truro and anchored in a quiet bay where we watched a playful seal catch a big fish in the clear waters.   All felt good, although cold, and we were glad to have “Tommy”, our new heater, pushing out warm air as we relaxed, read and occasionally thought about the list of jobs still to complete.

The lovely boatyard manager, Graham, rang us to confirm we would be hoisted out again on Monday at 4.30pm so the prop could be adjusted as our new engine was lacking power and not revving at the expected levels when under load.  

We arranged to meet Bea and Andy to take them for a sail as they had just sold their beautiful boat, so left our quiet anchorage early to meet them at 11:30am at Yacht Haven Marina.   The intention was to tie up alongside the pontoon for just enough time to collect them and head out again.   It was low tide and I was aware the approach to the marina did get shallow but was lulled into a false sense of security as there were numerous boats (admittedly smaller but would still draw a similar amount to us), on their moorings close to the marina.   It was quite windy with gusts of up to 20knots and I manoeuvred Cerulean so we could glide sideways with the wind on our beam (side) pushing us onto the pontoon.   I almost bailed at the last minute as we touched the bottom and a cloud of mud bellowed out behind us.   However, we persisted as there was only one berth left available on the pontoon.   The saying, “The most dangerous thing to have on a boat is a schedule” was ringing in my ears but I ignored it!    We gently moored up in front of another boat, with our anchors facing each other, nose to nose – not an ideal mooring technique as I was pinned in, unable to leave the pontoon going backwards (which is the preferred way to leave when there is a boat in front facing a different direction), due to the shallow depth and unable to move forward with wind pushing us onto the pontoon.   However, Bea and Andy arrived and we decided to leave before the tide fell any further otherwise we would have to wait on the pontoon for a few hours for the water levels to increase.   We set up spring lines to help us get off the dock so, with me powering in reverse with the wheel hard over to starboard, Andy held the line until our nose was out and then I gave the order to slip the line, I changed gear to forward and we headed out.  At this point I did several things wrong.  I underestimated the strength of the wind and current, I didn’t increase the engine speed enough, I had forgotten to turn on the bowthruster (biggest mistake) and I wasn’t keeping an eye on the depth.   Everything happened so fast.  Suddenly a gust of wind caught the front of Cerulean and our nose was pushed into the boat in front.   At this point all chaos let loose and I wasn’t certain what was happening other than we were being pushed onto the other boat and something was caught but I couldn’t see what, other than hearing a lot of shouting, swearing and cross voices coming from the owners of the other boat.    Eventually we managed to untangle the two boats and we left with a couple of bent stanchions and unknown damage to the other boat.  Bea knew the owners so we immediately made contact with them.  Feeling anxious but relieved to get the boats separated, I headed out of the mooring area weaving through the maize of buoys when suddenly the boat lurched forward.  I was confused as I had been avoiding the mooring buoys but had not been keeping an eye on the depth in my rush to get out into the channel.  I had hit the submerged, forgotten concrete block of a disused mooring buoy (no buoy was attached to it) and as I looked behind, I could see a trail of disturbed mud where we had touched the bottom.   I felt sick.  How could I have been so stupid twice in the space of a few seconds?   Some days you are a bird, and others you are the statue –  today I was the statue!   I felt shaky, incompetent, foolish and embarrassed all in one big bundle of SH1T!    I tried to enjoy the day as we hoisted our beautiful new sails for the first time and headed to Helford River at a great pace.   I tried to smile as we picked up a mooring and had a lovely lunch with Bea and Andy, attempting to push the horrible thought that not only had I damaged someone else’s boat but also our own and bruised my confidence and ego.    As we were being lifted out the water the next day we would be able to see whether there was any damage to Cerulean’s keel.

We dropped off Bea and Andy at the same marina, stopping just long enough for them to jump off before we headed back up the river where we had arranged to meet Mike and Nicki who were sailing from Gosport (where we had met them six months earlier), to Falmouth in preparation for their departure for Spain in a few days.   It was good to see them and we had a lovely catch up on board Cerulean before we motored back down the river on Monday afternoon to be lifted out the water again.    We arrived dead on time and were greeted by Graham who lost no time getting Cerulean in the hoist.   I told him what had happened and how concerned I was about the keel.   He, very kindly, tried to reassure me that it happens a lot and I’d probably been extremely unlucky to find a forgotten concrete pad.  As Cerulean was lifted out the water we went to inspect the damage.   I had scuffed the keel and left a nasty graze on the bottom which needed drying out and repairing.   Graham very kindly found us a spot in the yard, even though they were frantically busy, and arranged for the repair to be done in the morning.   I could’ve kissed him – if Covid restrictions would’ve allowed – he was just amazing and we will always feel extremely grateful to him and his wonderful team.

We returned to Bea and Andy’s for the night (how lucky are we to have them…?) and I spent the evening baking a big cake to take to the boatyard in the morning.   Next day, Bea dropped us at the boat and I delivered the cake in time for morning tea.   By the time we arrived the repair had been done and the prop angle altered.   We were able to complete some other jobs and dropped the bent stanchions at a local fabricators for repair.   Later that afternoon, we were relaunched with all the guys full of appreciation for the cake which was nowhere near matched by the appreciation we felt for them!  Unfortunately the prop was still not right and after much headscratching, it was decided we should stay afloat while more research was done into finding the right angle for the boat/engine/prop combination.   With the depth sounder showing we had zero depth, I very gingerly, but successfully reversed out of the yard into the channel – I was back on the horse!

The next morning we picked up a mooring buoy next to Zen Again and paddled our new kayak over to have coffee and TimTams (Antipodean chocolate biscuits) with Mike and Nicki before they headed into Truro so Nicki could have her Covid vaccination.   We said our farewells as they prepared to leave the UK for Spain and hope to see them again in The Canaries before we all head across the Atlantic in a few months time.

With my confidence starting to be restored, we set sail for Helford River where we spent a few magical days anchored in this slice of paradise.  It was particularly special as there were no tourists and very few visiting yachts in this normally very busy and popular anchorage.   We explored the beautiful, quaint, chocolate box village of Helford and wandered around the quiet streets and woods.  I loved it!  It was so quintessential English with thatched pub beside a stony beach, a small village shop that shut at 3pm and had windows full of handwritten notices about local events, bluebells in flower in the old woodland and stone walls tumbling down to the sea.  

A strong easterly was forecast so we moved anchorages back to the sheltered Fal/Truro River near the village of Malpas where we were met by the friendly seal again as we anchored.    The self-flagellation was starting to ease as the wind increased and tried to blow away any doubts or fears I had been harbouring.  Perhaps it was our turn to be a bird again instead of the statue….!?