Portugal – we can’t get away

15th to 19th October

After another day or two in the sunshine and warmth of Sines, with skipper and me, Henrietta, as obsessed with weather forecasts as ever (Wind and weather are of course an obsession of boats and sailors everywhere), we left for Madeira or Porto Santo, which is a smaller island nearby. Alas, it wasn’t in said forecasts – at least not for our patch of ocean – but after about 20 hours and going well, we were hit by strong winds, and then by even stronger winds, and then even more, until it was plain Force 9/10, with gusts 55 – 65 knots.

I was hove to with no sails up and skipper and crew hanging on. As seas grow bigger and bigger I am thrown around a bit but I maintain a fairly steady course, rudder on full lock, sideways to seas and staggering downwind, occasional waves crashing into cockpit. (M has only read about this sort of thing in books so, looking on the bright side, it is all valuable experience for him.) Although I am a strong and thoroughbred Swedish boat and have no harm to my body, after several hours, damage was apparent on some of my bits: – clew of mainsail ripped off, genoa UV strip partly torn, wind generator exploded (yes, we were lucky that shattering blades caused no damage), one solar panel backing plate destroyed, one dodger torn, one stanchion bent, bilges flooded, one bilge pump not working….M is not being over dramatic if he admits to sometimes wondering why on earth he enjoys sailing. (Short answer: when it’s like this, he doesn’t!)

Decision taken a few hours later in daylight, and once seas were more manageable, to sail roughly downwind about 120 miles to Cascais (near Lisbon) – i.e. closer to England than we were four days ago. Cascais has facilities, but as we approached the marina, M spots a tanker that seems anchored very close to shore. In fact, as we grew closer we see it is aground at marina entrance, with no less than seven tugs around (waiting for tide to rise and try towing it off). Later we discover this tanker, which was very big, had dragged its anchor in big waves and very high winds. Luckily not full of oil, and luckily not being swept onto Cascais beach or boat moorings, and luckily with double skin hull, disaster was averted. As local people are saying, it was a miracle. Anyway sailors, when you see a big ship in trouble, you know it really was very windy and rough. The worries of a tanker captain must be immense compared with those of a  yacht skipper. click here for tanker story

Now, a day later, crew have had some sleep and proper food. A start has been made on repairs. The weather forecast obsession is back – with renewed rigour and vigour. Hope to be writing a happier blog next time!

Here are photos of some damage because some folk like to see such stuff.

Portugal

6th to 14th October

Route

Povoa do Varzim – you may remember I had an uncomfortable stay there – snapped mooring line and later a snapped rubber shock absorber thingummyjig….plus sleeplessness for crew.

Povoa’s redeeming features? Delightful and ever-so-helpful marina staff, meetings with Nigel (from Exeter too, on a Vancouver), and Chris and Barbara (they live on their boat and have sailed nearly everywhere in north Atlantic [lots of tips], and Chris has climbed, potholed, kayaked – and taught all of them – everywhere else too…the sort of person who lives five normal people’s lives and remains totally normal, unassuming and friendly). My crew had a really good meal with them in downtown Povoa – not really sure if it was downtown but it was near the metro station.

Many harbours on Portugal’s Atlantic coast get closed when there is heavy Atlantic swell, so for three days, or maybe four, we weren’t able to leave Povoa. When at last we were allowed out, there was a quick exit through surf-bordered, rolly, swelly harbour entrance (did an aunt used to say “up and down like a roast leg of pork”? maybe not), it was a good sail – reaching and running about 180 miles south to Cascais – such a joy to enjoy good sailing after so much engine.

Cascais? Cascais is a very smart holiday resort about a dozen miles down the Tejo estuary from Lisbon. The Almanac and various sailors’ sources warn of sky-high and mouthwatering marina charges in Cascais, so I anchored outside and did not enjoy three uncomfortable nights bouncing and snatching about on a windy lee shore – most of the time too wet and breezy for crew even to row ashore. Next day…enough of this…into Cascais marina. Pay attention and take note, sailor folk: after 1st October, it’s said to be ‘low season’ here and marina prices plummet. (About 25 euros for me…a bargain which must be half the price of most of England’s south coast marinas…and marina staff gave my crew a bottle of wine as well). It really is smart. I think there’s even the Queen’s old yacht ‘Bloodhound’ in the marina (see picture). And several super-shiney professionally-crewed yachts. 

As we waited and waited for better weather – at that stage intending to go straight to Madeira and Porto Santo (a long way), there was time for local interests and culture. A couple of days in Lisbon, an easy train ride, gave glimpses of Portugal’s distinguished history and current delights and plenty of sombre cathedrals…some photos below.

Cascais too has more than its share of fine buildings, enchanting streets and those ubiquitous tiles.

By now, M wants to get a move on. We’re meant to be well on our way to the Canaries. In fact we’re little over halfway from Devon. Alas! big windy lows are destined for our patch of the Atlantic, and four or five days of rough sailing seem unappealing. We instead move south to Sines. This might be where Vasco da Gama was borne (see photo); but marina manager seems doubtful… but then he’s from Lisbon. (By the way, you don’t call it Sines as in Cosines, you call it ‘Cinch’ as in ‘a bit of a ~’ – soft cinch though. Portuguese pronunciation seems not at all straightforward.)

25th September to 5th October

M writes this very early one morning (not the one pictured above) after another sleepless night on creeky, snarly, bumpy, snatchy, rolly pontoon. I’m ‘tucked’ – not really the right word – in a corner of a harbour/marina in northern Portugal. My fellow boats bounce and bump about me while a gale whips overhead and swell rolls into the harbour of Povoa do Varzim. One of my mooring lines has broken too. (You see, it isn’t all sunshine, peace, and azure seas!)

We’ve very slowly sailed and motored just a little way down the Iberian coastline, for, when it isn’t a gale, there are light and fickle winds. 

(Photos are rather all over the place. Will try harder next time.)

Crew have seen some handsome and memorable towns (the towns are memorable, if not their names), brimming with historic and architectural interest: Muros and Puerta de Corrubedo (just anchored offshore there) in Spain, and then Viana do Castelo and this place, Povoa do Varzim in Portugal – with the varied mix of churches, monuments, markets and museums that go with 21st century tourism. (M likes these attractions so much he went on the metro to Porto yesterday – lots of delights in Porto). The Ciel islands off Rio de Vigo gave a more rural and picturesque anchorage than the towns we’ve visited – a long hilly walk ashore for crew too.

Here are some photos. There’s always a Lonely Planet guide if you want more. 

There aren’t so many boats and sailors about now but we have met many cheerful, knowledgable, colourful and well-travelled folk (and a dog or two or three) from most corners of Europe. It’s migration season: we boats head for the Mediterranean, or Atlantic Islands or over the ocean. And we see our shorebound cousins being lifted ashore for the winter.

Once, wind and swell abate I hope to be moving on south. The mark at harbour entrance tells us I can’t go in or out of here now. It feels a bit too much like end-of-summer in maritime Northern Portugal. Time for some warm sunshine……..