Spain – HandsOnDeck

Tenerife – The power of beauty

We left Lanzarote with a forecast of 15-20 knot winds and hoisted the sails with one reef in the main, even though the winds were well within our range to have full sails up. Each of the islands has a well documented acceleration zone where the winds can increase by up to 15knots, so can make a pleasant sail very uncomfortable, very quickly! We always try to take the cautious route and Cerulean still goes well with shortened sails.

As we made our way south and out of the shadow of the land, the wind increased during the afternoon and we steamed along at 7-8 knots with Hilda, the hydrovane, doing a fantastic job, keeping us on course and moving nicely with both jibs out. The night passed quickly with excellent sailing under clear skies and a bright moon lighting the seas around us. At 4am the wind had dropped and we slowed down to below 5knots of speed, so the reef was shaken out and we continued at a comfortable rate. As we approached the shipping lanes at the top the north east corner of Tenerife, traffic increased but we easily slipped through a hole between two large cargo ships, calling one on the VHF radio to let him know our intentions. We were amazed to see the huge amount of light pollution from Gran Canaria when we passed to the north of the island, which glowed from miles away. As the sun came up we were close to land and enjoyed a lovely sail hugging the coastline as we watched the landscape and terrain on Tenerife unfold infront of us.

Tenerife is shaped like a triangle and is the largest island in the Canaries with a population just short of 1 million. Santa Cruz is the island capital, as well as the shared capital of The Canaries, and the large city could be seen from far away. One of its claims to fame is being the location where Nelson lost his arm during a failed attempt to take the city by storm in 1792.

The entrance to the harbour and marina is marked by a striking modern entertainment complex, Auditorio de Tenerife which some say resembles the Sydney Opera House – it is white, with a curved roof and has an acoustic auditorium but, in my humble opinion, this is where the similarities stop!

As we approached the entrance we radioed the harbourmaster on ch12 and requested permission to pass through the port to the marina. They answered immediately and allowed us to proceed while we attempted to radio the marina on ch09. After numerous failed attempts to get a response, we entered the marina and waited along with a French boat, not knowing where we had been allocated a berth or what side to put the fenders and mooring lines. Eventually we saw two men waving, directing us to a very narrow berth next to a large and expensive looking yacht with the owner on board. By this time it was about 2pm and the afternoon breeze had kicked in, producing strong gusts that were 90 degrees to the direction of the berth. I started to steer down the channel leading to our allocated spot an, the owner of the boat we were to be moored next to, looking on with more than a casual interest. As we started to turn into the berth a strong gust of wind hit us and caught the back of the boat, pushing us past the berth and in danger of pinning us up against other boats, so I decided to bail. With much confusion and more handwaving from the marineros (marina boat handlers), I ignored all the shouting and reversed out of the channel, back into the safety of the large entrance, insisting they find us an alternative berth with more room. Fortunately they did and we happily settled into it feeling satisfied with our decision, particularly when we discovered later that several other boats had refused the first berth offered them too as the space was too narrow for their boat and they were silently applauding as they watched us reverse out and demand another place!

While in Graciosa we had received a phone call from the people we had bought the batteries from. The price of the batteries included free delivery anywhere in the Canaries and they had agreed to deliver them to the marina, which was only about 30 minutes drive from their office, so a good deal for them! I had insisted that we needed them on Monday, when we arrived in the marina, as Iain from Ruffian had kindly agreed to help remove and fit the new ones on Tuesday and we had arranged to hire a car with Ruffian on Wednesday so we could tour the island. During the phone conversation a few days prior, it transpired that Tuesday was a public holiday and the delivery driver informed me he was taking Monday and Tuesday off, so asked whether they could deliver on Wednesday instead. After a lot of confusion that involved us accosting a waiter to ask for help translating, it was agreed the batteries would be delivered on Sunday, or at least that’s what I understood. We arrived at the marina on Monday, fully expecting the batteries to be waiting for us. No sign of them. The very helpful team in the marina office rang the battery company who informed us they would be delivered on Wednesday. I was not happy and insisted they deliver them now or tomorrow morning, as agreed. After a lot of discussion they agreed to deliver them on Tuesday and we left the office, not 100% confident with the outcome!

Steve set to work removing the old batteries – not an easy task as they were squeezed into the most inaccessible places and each battery weighed 65kg. It was hot, heavy, slow and frustrating work and Steve worked tirelessly. On Tuesday, much to our relief and (if I’m honest) surprise, the batteries arrived as promised and were heaved onto the boat, one by one. Iain from Ruffian, came and worked with Steve lifting the old batteries out of the boat and the new ones in while Fi and I went in search of groceries and other essential supplies. While searching for a pressure cooker in a large department store, we had a giggle when we noticed the big store directory at the entrance listing what was on each floor of this enormous shop (see photo).

The next day, with the battery installation complete, Fi and Iain travelled to the airport to collect the car we had hired for two days, while Steve and I headed to a medical centre to have our yellow fever and tetanus jabs in preparation for our planned sail to Gambia. With perfect timing, we met Iain and Fi outside the doctors after being jabbed and headed to the hills. Iain had prepared a full list of POI’s (points of interest) and we had added a few places we were keen to visit too. Off we went, full of excitement and merriment, glad to be sharing a car and adventures with team Ruffian again.

First we drove to Mount Teide, the highest point in Spain and in the Atlantic islands, at 3,715m. We negotiate crazy windy roads with shear drops on one side as deep green valleys unfolded in front of us, the roads taking us through low cloud. The views were spectacular as the road meandered around steep hills with jaw-dropping lush cliffs plummeting to wide valleys and deep gorges.

Over the two days we explored the whole of the island, watching the sunrise at two stunning locations one involving a long walk up a steep, rocky path which Steve negotiated in his trusty jandels again, enjoying a picnic breakfast as we watched the sun rise over the sea.

A real highlight for me was, not only stunning vistas from the many miradors (viewing points) but spending a wonderful afternoon exploring the old capital, La Laguna. The old town is where the islands university is located and is made up of beautiful 15^th century churches, monasteries and houses lining cobbled streets and I loved wandering the lanes discovering buildings and squares with old Dragon trees growing. Dragon trees are a symbol of Tenerife and are recognisable by their large trunk which divides into numerous branches that twist skywards with spiky evergreen foliage at the top of the tree. Sometimes, as I wander around towns, I wonder what it would be like to spend six months living there and immersing myself in the culture. This was a place I love to call home for a while – rent an old house, regularly visit a local cafe, play dominos in one of the squares, visit the local bakers each morning and talk to the locals, dreaming of life on a sailboat!! It had character, history, was not too touristy and was in a beautiful location, surrounded on three sides by high mountains.

It was another memorable, full and fun road trip of discovery with team Ruffian. Iain masterly negotiated the twisty, narrow steep roads and we loved being part of a shared adventure with them again, discovering another truly beautiful island.

After five days in the marina, stocked up with fresh fruit and vegetable from the fabulous Mercado de Nuestra Senora de Africa (mercado = market) we said farewell to new friends (Peter Lawless on Waxwing – Irish single handed sailor – who donated us a wedge of excellent Irish cheese and butter – and Robin on Zilveren Maan, who sympathised with Steve for having such a loud, talkative partner!) and headed to an anchorage in the north of the island called Bahia de Anteguera. It was a lovely anchorage protected by high cliffs and clear waters which we immediately dived into to clean the bottom of Cerulean again. In fact she was surprisingly clean, and the water was surprisingly warm so we enjoyed cooling off from the 27 degree heat in the beautiful surround. We had anchored behind another NZ boat called Tokomaru Bay and we went over to meet the owner, Hamish, a single handed sailor who was retracing his great grandfather’s journey to NZ in the late 1800’s, written about in a journal he had found. His 65ft yacht was stunning with sleek lines and spacious accommodation which will be quite different to the boat his ancestor sailed!

Our intention had been to sail to the other side of the island but on checking the weather forecast, we made a quick change in plans and altered course to Gran Canaria, the third largest of the Canary Islands and where we had been invited to a party with other long distance sailors as well as meet my sister who was flying out to join another boat to cross the Atlantic. It was a 46NM sail to the protected south of the island and with Ruffian nipping at our heels, it was time to see whether Cerulean could out pace them for a change, in conditions that were perfect for us! We were sad to leave Tenerife, where I could have happily spent another few weeks exploring. We loved the distinct characters of the island – the old cities on the east side, the rugged, mountains and valleys in the centre, dramatic cliffs to the south and lush fruit growing areas in the west. To us, Tenerife had it all and we left with great memories of a special time exploring.

Lanzarote – black, white and everything inbetween

In the mid 1960’s an artist named Cesar Manrique foresaw the damage tourism could cause to his beloved island home. His influence on the architect is still apparent with low level, white buildings dominating the black landscape, creating a dramatic, beautiful and very unusual environment.

Our days exploring Madeira will remain a vivid and unexpectantly wonderful memory but the wind gods were talking and we had to listen! Madeira quickly disappeared from sight as we made our way south east and we were once again alone in the ocean with our buddy boat, Andrew and Traci on Walkabout, for company, visible on AIS and a comforting masthead light in the distance at night. Walkabout is a bigger, newer, lighter and faster boat than us so, with winds of between 10 – 15knots they were soon eight miles ahead as we ploughed through the building seas that they seemed to glide over! As night fell, we reefed the main and prepared for the forecast increased winds. Cerulean came alive as the winds increased to 20knots and we made great speed, shortening the distance between us and Walkabout. The wind was coming on our side, which is the perfect point of sail for us but the hydrovane was struggling to keep us on course. Normally it would not be a problem to let her wander off a little but if we didn’t adjust we would have been too far north of Lanzarote, so we decided to hand steer for most of the passage.

When I woke to take the watch at 3am, Steve had put another reef in the main as our speed hit over 10knots. I was so proud of him, doing it on his own and keeping the boat safe and on course. He has learned so much and is getting more confident in his decision-making and abilities. We had calculated our passage speed at an average of 6knots, which is why we left at 11am the day before, to ensure we would not arrive in the dark. Our average speed was over 7knots on this passage and we broke a new 24hour personal record, covering 157 nautical miles in 24hrs. We approached the southern side of Lanzarote with Walkabout beside us. They had completed most of the passage on jib only as the winds increased and with the knowledge that winds can accelerate considerably close to Lanzarote, we took the main sail down and proceeded under a reefed staysail only and we were still making over 5knots of speed! It was with relief and a small sigh of satisfaction, that we anchored at Playa Blanco, outside Rubicon Marina on the south side of Lanzarote which is protected from the Atlantic swell. We slept for a few hours before moving into the marina where we had booked a berth for a few nights – our first stay in a marina for over 90 days.

We soon settled into the relaxed and sociable environment at the marina which was full of boats from all over the world, most of whom where heading across The Atlantic. We were all drawn together by a common dream of sailing across oceans, and we shared the trait that we had all taken risks and were open to new adventures. Friendships between cruisers are made quickly and are either fleeting or last a lifetime. We met some lovely people and shared drinks, food and time with a number of wonderful folk that we certainly hope will not be fleeting acquaintances with the intent to see them again in another part of the World.

On board, we have four 220AH “service” batteries that are separate from our engine starter batteries. The Service batteries provide power for our electronics, lights, electric sockets and other equipment. Our solar panels charge up the batteries during the daytime, but we need to monitor how much we use and how well the panels are performing to make sure the batteries are fully charged each day to remain healthy. We had noticed a significant change in how our batteries were performing and we were having problems getting them to fully charge each day. As we had been monitoring them carefully, we saw there was a potential problem so while in the marina on shore power we were able to run some tests and establish what, if anything, we could do to rectify the issue. We discovered that one of our batteries had died and, in normal circumstances the obvious solution would be to just replace the dead battery. However, this is a boat and, because it is considered very bad practice to have batteries of different ages and also because we are a 24V boat so have two 12V batteries linked together, we decided we should bite the bullet and replace all four batteries. The other problem was the only place that could source the batteries we wanted was in Tenerife so we arranged for the batteries to be delivered to a marina in Santa Cruz (the capital of Tenerife) and booked a space in the marina.

Our second mission was to fill our butane gas bottles as we were getting very low on gas, which we use for cooking. We learned of a place in Arrecife, about 40km north, which filled bottles and, as there were no cars available, hired a motorbike for a few days. We knew the gas refill place closed early so we were not able to get there in time, but decided to head towards Arrecife and check out some other possible suppliers. We must have looked a funny sight, two 6ft foreigners on a 125CC motorbike, knees almost on our chests, going full throttle in second gear up the steep hills and still only making 30KPH! Once out of the marina the full barren landscape of the island became visible as we rode through the most incredible moonscape environment. Black earth had been planted with vines which were dug into a hole and half surrounded by a wall made from volcanic rocks to protect them from the prevailing, drying winds. Often, as far as you could see, there were fields of these vines, the landscape only broken by a white single storey building with an orange roof. Where vines didn’t grow, cactus did and huge specimens were on show beside the road. I was transfixed by the landscape. It was hard to comprehend what we were looking at sometimes as it was such a foreign sight.

Cesar Manrique was a celebrated local artist who also studied architecture in the 1960’s and his influence on the island is still very apparent today. Wanting to preserve the unique nature of the island, he somehow managed to convince the local council to write a condition in their planning regulations to encourage sustainable development and this is still recognised today with the lack of high-rise hotels and all buildings painted white. Set against the black soil, villages nestled in valleys make an impressive landscape of contrast with the volcanic hills and black terrain as a backdrop.

We arrived in Arrecife, the capital of Lanzarote, and managed to exchange one of our small empty campingaz cylinders for a full one. At least we now had enough gas for another month. As we could only carry one cylinder on the motorbike, we felt relieved we had fulfilled this part of our challenge. We headed back to the motorbike to find we had a flat tyre which may have explained the slightly wobbly journey there!

Next day, armed with a new motorbike, we returned to Arrecife, this time with two of our larger empty butane gas bottles (one on my back and one in the storage box), hoping to get them filled at a gas distribution unit we had been told was the only place on the island, and one of only two places in The Canaries, that would fill empty bottles. We negotiated the busy roads with me sitting on the back, clinging hold of Steve with one hand and the phone in the other, shouting directions as we were buffeted by the strong winds. Our elation of finding the refill station was short-lived when we were firmly told they would not fill our bottles, but the reason for this was lost in gesticulating arms and language barrier. Feeling disheartened we headed to the marina where we met Ruffian as they arrived in Arrecife. Iain swapped places with me and, with him holding their empty gas cylinder, Steve returned to the refill station. It was with surprise, pleasure for them, and (if I’m honest) a little envy, that they came back with a full gas bottle! Still unsure why ours were not able to be filled, we left Ruffian with their full supply of gas and headed to the hills. We drove back to the boat through the volcanic centre of the island, stopping regularly to take in the vast views set against deep blue skies. I loved it.

After extending our stay in the marina a few times and saying goodbye to Andrew and Traci on Walkabout, we filled our fuel tank and headed out. We motored into the wind to Playa Quemada, a short distance to the north and dropped the anchor in front of a small black sand beach which was only reachable via a steep long path. We sat on deck watching the people on the beach, watching us as we bounced around in the exposed anchorage.

The next day we motor-sailed into the wind, heading north and then rounding the top of Lanzarote. Our destination was Graciosa, a small island to the west of Lanzarote with no roads, a few hundred residents, four volcanoes and lots of sand! We had managed to get a permit to visit the island and stay for a few nights, although it appeared we were the only boat that had bothered to get permission and no-one came to check. Ruffian had already arrived and I joined Iain for a late afternoon walk which started with the intention of climbing one of the volcanoes but ended in a short walk to the nearest pub!

The next morning the four of us headed out, this time better prepared and more determined to reach the top of the volcano. The climb was worth it and we were rewarded with wonderful views across to Lanzarote and over to the west of Graciosa. We walked around the sunken crater of the volcano before heading back down the hill to find a good watering hole!

After three days exploring it was time to leave and farewell Lanzarote. The wind and weather looked ideal for the 160 NM sail to Tenerife and we were ready for another overnight passage to meet our new batteries which we had arranged to have delivered to the marina…… or so we thought!

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 1^st 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…..