Wendy’s Diary 30 May 2012 – Westward bound again

After filling up with water at the tiny marina (just a couple of pontoons for the locals, not for visitors), a quick bit of laundry (by foot not hand) and a chat with a local retired fisherman re our destination we were ready to set off. The sail from San V de la B to LLanes was a little over 16 miles, so around 4 hours – not a long haul and fingers crossed for a flat sea. We had the wind behind us and for a while managed to sail, but as has often happened, the wind dropped and on went the motor again. The sea became short and I was seasick again! There is something about the swell around here that really disagrees with me.

Anyway, my chosen port of call is a tiny place, where a local artist had been commissioned to paint the concrete blocks that formed the outer harbour wall, and the town itself is described as charming. The aforementioned fisherman advised us not to go into the marina as it was pricey, but hang a right as soon as we entered the river and ask to tie up in the fishing harbour.  This was perhaps the smallest entrance yet, and with our fingers crossed for a safe entry we nudged into the fishing harbour, where we were told under no uncertain terms to go to the marina.  We decided to head back out to sea and to the next ria, a further 4 or so miles west.

The entry to Llanes with the painted stones - the entry is on the left.

Niembro was hard to spot along the coastline, but with only a few hundred yards to go we could finally make out where the gap in the cliffs was. It was almost high tide so we reckoned we would be ok depth wise as this was a drying harbour. So for the second time that afternoon we crossed our fingers as we crossed the bar. The swell disappeared and we were in a beautiful crystal clear river with a sandy bottom, giving the water a lovely turquoise colour. We passed the little quay and the river opened up with views of the mountains in the background a church, a restaurant and fields.

That's me on the right...trying to work out how we managed to sail in here!

We dropped anchor and had just the sound of birds and cow bells in the way of noise. I keep running out of descriptive words for beautiful places, but this was another one of those spots. And, unbelievably we had wifi on the boat. Having gone for a drink in the one restaurant in the bay, which just happened to be of the same name as a password protected hotspot, we collected the said password and the proprietor even suggested that we see if it worked from the boat. We did go back for another beer there before we left as a token of thanks for the use of the signal.

I have mentioned before that I am in the process of making a cover for the dinghy to protect it from the sun which as we head south will deteriorate more quickly (the dinghy not the sun). We picked up a discarded sun shade (the sort that comes out on a roll off a building) in St Jean de Luz, which seemed to be in good condition and was obviously a good material to use as it was designed for the same purpose.

Anyway, this time I waited for the tide to go out and sat on the beach in my deckchair next to the dinghy and attached the elastic clips that attach the cover in place. By the time I had finished my fingers had more holes than a sieve, though thankfully not too many of them drew blood. I got through at least 6 needles and all the pins we had left. I was determined to finish this stage so that it could start to be used.  The following day I sewed round the slits for the ropes that attach it to the davits, so the cover can remain in place in transit and just before the tide came back in it was in a state ready to be used.

The anchorage at Niembro with the tide out

And with the tide in

Sewing has never been one of my strong points, I don’t have enough patience usually for the slow progress, and tend to take short cuts and finish up with something not particularly attractive. Now that I have swapped my life around and am time rich and money poor, I was happy to take the time and do the best job I could, and I must say, that it has turned out better than I expected it to. It still needs a few finishing touches, but it does at least now do the job it was designed for and has cost us less than 20 euros in the process.  I am impressed with myself and have awarded myself a gold star!

Me walking on the beach at Niembro.

Between Llanes and Niembro is a small town with an unusual name (to the English anyway). As soon as I saw the name on the map I told John we had to go there, I wanted my photo taken next to the sign. The primary reason being to send the said photo to my sister in law in Cyprus as I knew it would amuse her. She and I play a form of scrabble over the internet, the games often take several days to complete as it depends on who is on line when, in order to play in turn. We use the game as something to talk around; it isn’t about winning, and hold written conversations alongside the games. Placing a word that would be considered rude/funny by a five year old amuses us both far more than it should and you will see from the photo why this one was of such importance.  It was only about a 3 mile cycle ride away and the effort was much appreciated in Cyprus!

The town with the interesting name

The cycle ride was useful in that we passed the nearest shop, about 2 miles away, and a fab little roadside stall selling a mixture of home-grown and brought in fruit and veg, situated directly in front of their poly tunnels. I stocked up as it all looked good quality and not too pricey. The anchorage is an idyllic spot, but without the bikes it would not be possible to do any provisioning (there is of course the restaurant).

Some caravans we passed which had been er..extended??

We spent 4 or 5 days there before I got itchy feet again, the sea looked calm and we up anchored and headed 12 miles along the coast to Ribadesella, a fishing port along a very long quayside, with places for the likes of us “yachties” to tie up alongside for free. I managed the entire journey without even a hint of seasickness, but with a very slight wind on the nose it was necessary to motor all the way. The forecast easterly arrived just after we tied up to the wall.

We are tied up on the far wall opposite the marina...see next photo

Tied along the wall at Ribadesella

Looking out of the estuary at Ribadesella

The quayside is where the locals and tourists promenade, the sea wall is high and so the view of the boat is slightly from above. Our renewable energy system has attracted huge interest amongst the passers, with many stopping to ask questions. John of course is delighted to speak in which ever language is required (Spanish French and English) to explain how it all works.
  

The valley we cycled up

Today we took the bikes up the valley for about 10km and on bikes with small wheels that is a reasonable distance. The road followed the river so was relatively flat; it was amazing to be cycling with big mountains all around us. My camera isn’t good enough to take decent shots of the views, but John took one with his.

We have met some more lovely people and are happy to spend the next few days exploring the area before continuing further west.

Wendy’s Diary 21 May 2012 – Santander, Suances & San V de la B

As many of you will know, about 25 years ago John spent some time studying Spanish literature at the Universidad Menedez Pelayo in Santander. He fell in love with the city and Spain and everything Spanish, particularly the food (Chocolate Con Churros being top of the list)!! For many years he has dreamed of sailing his own boat into this harbour and that dream finally came true early this month. Whilst I was trying to sleep off the latest bout of sea sickness (the swell down here really doesn’t agree with me), John spotted El Palicio on the headland, sobbed his socks off and then cooked some Churros to celebrate.

Cycling at El Palicio

In a very prominent place along the sea front is the Real Club Maritimo Santander, a very plush yacht club. On the Saturday when we arrived a regatta was taking place and yachts both large and small (but all rather fast) were buzzing round in circles either waiting their turn to start or participating in a race. We anchored in front of the club, and were made very welcome as visiting “yachties” and were offered the use of their facilities whilst we were there. We headed off for a stroll around the town, in particular John wanted to find the bar he frequented all those years ago to see if the same couple still ran it. We did find it but the present owners had taken over from his former acquaintance and it was closed at the time. 

Bronze statues of boys on the quayside (being used by a fisherman) overlooking the RMCS

Anchored off the RMCS with one of the "wash generators" passing close by

Back at the RCMS with wifi on offer we shipped the laptops and headed for the bar, with a clear view of Freya Frey bobbing around in the water.  We were quite close to a ferry stop and the ferries were very regular and created large amounts of wash. Sitting in the bar was far preferable to sitting on the boat in this state! Eventually the ferries quit for the night and we headed back to the boat for what turned out to be a very uncomfortable night.

The splendid interior of the club, with a little more than half of me typing

We spent a week mooching around the river in search of places away from swell and wash, and in between exploring the city, a cycle ride around the grounds of El Palicio, taking advantage of the superb surroundings of the sailing club (thankfully not expensive) and catching up with jobs on the boat. For a couple of days the weather broke the record for high temperature in May and we basked in around 38 degrees. I am in the process of making a cover for the dinghy to protect it from sunlight and in this heat sat out on deck with my sewing.  

Sunset through the red ensign

Snowy mountains in the background

Another "wash generator" sneaking up on us in the mist

If you are likely to follow suit and sail into Santander I can only say from my experience that whilst the city is certainly worth visiting, the difficulty in finding a smooth anchorage made the stay less pleasant. The wind changed direction more times a day than I drink tea (those who know me well will appreciate that one) and as the bay is wide the fetch soon picks up.  The river is not particularly interesting, mainly industrial and the areas at the head of the accessible part of the river (before a low bridge) were taken up with moorings and a small marina. One anchorage was at the end of the runway – the airport is not overly busy, so it wasn’t a problem and watching planes take off and land at such close proximity was a novelty. One last thing, there is an excellently stocked chandlery (ferreteria) at Pedreña (next to the fishing harbour not the one in the small marina) if you need one – big, well organised and not too expensive.

How close??

John’s memories of the city from his university days made him reluctant to leave, but after a week we finally headed out to our next port of call, Suances. Whilst the wind remained relatively light (motoring again) the swell was much bigger than we had anticipated (2-3M) resulting in me feeling ill again and so John did most of the helming. Our pilot book advised that the narrow river entrance should not be entered in heavy swell – “what is the definition of heavy swell” I pondered. Both feeling a little uneasy on the basis that it wasn’t yet half way up the tide, we decided to give it a go as I was feeling rough. This may easily have been a bad decision, as a particularly large wave came past just as we were going over the bar, but thankfully didn’t ground us. With both engines blasting we made our way through and into the calm of the river.


Our very old pilot book (1985) said it was possible to go a couple of miles up the canalised river – we thought that in the intervening years someone would probably have built a bridge but thought it was worth a look, and with no bridge in the way followed the river until it became too shallow. We headed slightly back down river and dropped the anchor for the night in strangely dark water. A bit like the brown water than you get in peaty areas but blacker! 

Grateful for a very peaceful night and well rested, in the morning we headed back down almost to the entrance and entered the harbour. This is split in two with pontoons for pleasure craft on one side and fishing boats on the other. We were too big and besides which there were no spaces available on the pontoons, so we headed for the side of the slipway. I was at the helm and brought the boat alongside, a challenging feat for me – John usually does this sort of thing, and I was petrified of hitting the wall, with half a dozen friendly locals spectating.  We were assured that it was no problem to tie up there and the boat would be safe.

The wall in the fishing port of Suances

Suances is a town split into two, with a beach resort running along a wide sandy bay and up a very steep hill is the main town, somewhere we didn’t venture due to the said hill. There was an excellent cycle path to Torrelevega 10km in land which followed the river and so was relatively flat. David, one of the spectators when we arrived, offered to drive us to Santillana del Mar one evening and we had a lovely couple of hours wandering around the cobbled streets of this medieval town, largely unchanged for centuries.

John posing in the square at Santillana

The church in Santillana - on the pilgram route Camino de Santiago

Another short hop with little sail but smaller swell brought us to San Vicente de la Barquera, where we have spent the last few days chilling out, catching up on washing and trying to avoid the rain which has returned with vengeance. This is a very pretty bay with ample choice of anchorage spots, both drying and not. We have found a spot in a small channel a couple of hundred yards from the shore which is well protected from the winds from the west and we touch bottom for a couple of hours each tide. Rather conveniently it has, if was sporadic, free wifi available, which we believe comes from the town hall. 

One of our anchorages in San V de la B. Note the washing on the line and the snow on the mountains in the background

The old part of the walled town is well preserved in parts and has a fort overlooking the bay at one end and a church at the other, with a narrow street between the two. We visited the fort yesterday, the highlight for me being the view from (nearly) the top.

The fort above the town at San V de la B

We are currently sitting out the latest wind and rain blowing through watching the weather and looking for the next opportunity to move further west. However as you will see from the photos, it is not exactly a bad place to have to wait!  

An aerial view of San V (not taken by us)

Wendy’s Diary 4 May 2012 – The rain in Spain falls mainly in April!

We stayed in the marina at Hondarribia for 10 days and with WIFI included on board. It was very nice, and not expensive at 11 euros per night, but still took another chunk out of our budget that we were hoping to avoid, but anchoring anywhere really would have been miserable. We spent the time exploring the area by bike, despite the persistent rain. I am not quite sure what the locals thought to us cycling around in our full sailing gear, but we enjoyed it despite the weather.

The one day the sun shone we naively took a marked hiking route as somewhere new to explore. This took us up to a tiny hamlet named Guadaloupe (yes really), up being the operative word, as it was perched rather spectacularly on half way up the mountainside. The route started on a nice bit of tarmac road, only wide enough for one vehicle, but remote enough that not many cars used it anyway. I commented that it was how I like cycling, on a nice smooth surface but without traffic.

After a couple of miles of more up than down, the road veered sharply round to the left, but the hiking route was marked as straight on up a footpath. OK, it was another hill so we decided to give it a go, and pushed the bikes until we came out on a small plateau with a fabulous view of the area. The signpost pointed up another hill which became steeper and steeper, with more ruts and rocks than you find climbing a path up Snowden. With John persuading me that the road was only another couple of hundred meters we plodded on for another half mile pushing the bikes – John even finished up carrying his at one point but I couldn’t quite manage that.

When we finally emerged at Guadaloupe the view truly was spectacular - all the way up the coast Hendaye, Biarritz, Bayonne and the start of a certain sand-dune that I took a disliking to a few weeks before on our way down the French coast.  A beer was top of my priority list after such a challenging climb and we found the local revelry, more by chance than anything as it didn’t have any signs outside. We treated ourselves to the menu of the day, a typical Spanish 3 course meal plus coffee, marvelling at the drop in prices compared to France (which we could still see!). Apparently they are so well known that they have sufficient customers so don’t bother with a sign.

John on the terrace at Guadaloupe

 The view, the meal and the ride down made the trek up the hill worthwhile. Since the car accident 3 years ago and then breaking my ankle last year I have become far more aware and scared of danger. Riding downhill on small folding bikes normally keeps my hands on the brake handles for fear of falling off on a bend. However it was a sunny day, the road was dry (a proper tarmac one on the way down) and I whizzed down the hill with a silly smile on my face and got a rush of adrenalin that my children would probably need to skydive to achieve. It was a fantastic day out.

 We finally decided that the level of swell and wind direction was suitable to leave on 27 April. We set off just after lunch with a target destination of Motriko (30 miles away) programmed into the chart plotter, with options to drop out at a couple of nearer ports if the conditions became unfriendly. Despite having taken a sea-sickness tablet before we left, it became another voyage on which I fed the fishes and consoled myself with the thought that it was good for waistline! John helmed for almost the entire trip and around 10.30 we entered the river that led to the harbour to discover that the channel was unmarked, and not where our chart plotter thought it was. We found some very shallow water decided to quit whilst we were ahead and made a quick exit through some breaking waves that had not been there on the way in and headed to Bermeo instead.

Bermeo is a large harbour, the outer parts of which is full of huge fishing boats and from the smell, obviously housed a fish factory.  The swell was still quite uncomfortable here and I really wanted somewhere a bit flatter to settle for the night. We continued on through a second basin, again full of fishing boats and behind a large mole John spotted the inner basin with pontoons and no swell. I may have kicked him in the shins if he wanted to avoid paying at this stage, it was late, I was tired and I wasn’t feeling very well. We found what appeared to be the only free berth big enough for us and tied up at approaching midnight. John went in search of the capitainerie on the off chance there was a night watchman (or should that be watchperson?) on duty to find that the gate at the top of the pontoon was locked. We did a quick tide/weather check and agreed that a 7am start was necessary to continue to the next river where we thought we would be able to anchor.

The river at Plentzia

A few hours of uninterrupted sleep and we headed out as planned toward Plentzia, a mere 16 miles along the coast. I took the helm once we were out of the harbour and whilst the sun wasn’t exactly putting in an appearance, it was at least starting to get light. It rained and rained but 5 hours later we entered the bay, and found our way into the river which was hidden from view until almost upon it. There wasn’t any space to anchor but quite a few free mooring buoys, so we picked up a pair fore and aft and breathed a sigh of relief that we had found somewhere calm that hopefully wouldn’t cost very much.

It wasn’t long before we met one of the neighbouring boat owners who informed us that the owner of the mooring we were using only used it in the summer and we would be ok to stay there for up to a week if we wanted, no charge. Oh, and by the way, it is a really strong set of moorings, and here is my phone number if you need anything! That set the tone for the place and we met quite a few locals over the next few days, all of whom were very welcoming and friendly. Most of whom were bailing out their tenders as we had had so much rain!

We were two boats upstream from a boat the same as Annie and Philippe’s, and on our second day the owner arrived to check all was ok. When he had finished he came aboard for a coffee and a chat and stayed for the next 4 hours. I can’t think of the equivalent term to golf widow, but get John talking technical stuff to do with the boat and you get the picture! Jon Mikel found everything fascinating and asked if we would still be there the next day as he wanted to bring us something. From that point he sort of adopted us during our stay, making sure we were ok. He returned with a town flag and a bottle of the locally brewed aperitif, which tastes a bit like cough medicine.

John and Jon

We had mentioned cycling or dinghying up to a local castle “Burgos” which is in my “Guide to Northern Spain”, a non sailing book we have on board. He said he would happily take us by car instead, an offer we accepted and found it just as good as the guide book suggested – on the outside. It used to be open to the public, then changed hands and became a restaurant specialising in medieval banquets, went bust and closed about 5 years ago. It is in fantastic condition and to me looked like a fairytale castle from stories like Sleeping Beauty.

The fairytale castle - sadly empty and unused.

On the way back he took us to the Vizcaya Bridge Shuttle in Bilbao, it was the first bridge of its kind in the world and in 2006 was made a world heritage site. Rather than taking the shuttle we took the lift 54 meters up and walked across the top, which of course had spectacular views.

The bridge at Bilbao

We are both internet “anoraks”, whether it be podcasts (we still haven’t missed a single episode of the Archers since we left the UK),  facebook and emails for keeping in touch with family and friends, blogging and in my case, filing online tax returns! Whilst the rest can be fun the latter is not and I successfully submitted mine from Hondarribia and then took on the challenge of John’s which of course included his French income. I know I am an accountant by trade, but I only ever worked in the public sector, so this was a completely new subject to me. I have downloaded more pages from the HMRC website than I care to remember and still don’t know if I have got my head around “foreign tax credit relief” so if anyone reading this has any expertise in this field they would like to share please get in touch!! Anyway, if you happen to be in Plentzia and want a nice bar with WIFI, go to the Socaire Bar, tucked in a square across the road from the east corner of the little marina – it was lovely (apart from the tax returns bit) and John recommends the tapas.

At 6 O’clock this morning (tide and time waits for no man) we left this little haven of flat waters and sailed (actually sailed without the motor most of the way – hooray!) to first Loredo for a nose around. Over 20 miles of calm sea with a friendly wind was luxury after the previous passage.

 John has spotted the marina on google earth with no boats in it. Google earth is another excellent tool for passage planning. I surmised it must be new, but he checked the date on the map and it was over a year old! So to satisfy his curiosity I googled “Why aren’t there any boats in Loredo marina” to discover that for over a year after the marina was completed (and I think at a cost of 23 million euros) there has been an ongoing argument between the local council who own it and the company who won the contract to manage the site, and so it sits empty. Row after row of immaculate pontoons inside an enormous new sea wall (presumably it was this that cost the bulk of the money).

The new sea wall protecting the empty marina - each concrete block is individually numbered, the highest number we spotted was 17 thousand and something.

We then headed across the bay to Santona, and up to the top of the navigable part of the river (for masted boats anyway), looking for a suitable anchorage. The wind had picked up by the afternoon and this inland bit of sea had become choppy so we entered the small harbour just before the road bridge crosses the river in search of somewhere sheltered to stop.  We settled on a pontoon that was separate from the marina part, and out of the way of the big fishing boats. John went off in search of bread whilst I stayed behind in case someone appeared and told us to “get off my land”. I thought, ah, I nice peaceful half hour to relax and chill out. No sooner had John gone than a dredger half the size of the harbour arrived, and began work about 30 yards away. So much for peace and quiet! John came back and took a nap and whilst the dredger did its stuff for a couple of hours, I took the opportunity to write up my diary.  

The pontoon at Collindres before the dredger arrived.

The dredger - far too big and close to get the whole vessel in the picture!

Electrical Safety afloat

A simple electrical polarity indicator.

We have all heard horror stories about dodgy shorepower installations abroad, and following the recent electrocutions on a pontoon in Cyprus, I decided to install a simple indicator.

It consists of three neon lights (not LED) which cost a few pence each from Maplins, and which take a matter of minutes to install.  They are connected together in a triangular circuit between the three poles of the incoming shore supply.   The amber light is connected between live and neutral.  This indicates that power is present, and should normally be on.  Green is connected between earth and live, and again should normally be on, indicating that there is an earth connection.   Red is connected between the earth and neutral, and this should never come on.  If it does, it means that either the polarity is reversed (in which case switches on sockets will not actually isolate an appliance from the live, although they will stop it from operating) or that there is no earth at all (in which case the green will also be lit).

The following truth table shows possible light combinations and the meaning and implications

Indication	Meaning	Implications
Green and amber	Normal, correct connection	Use with normal precautions
Red and amber	Live and neutral reversed	Dangerous installation.  Switches will not isolate equipment correctly, although appliances will function. Risk of shocks if equipment malfunctions.
Green, red, amber	No earth, polarity may or may not be correct, earth pin could be live	Extremely dangerous installation. Serious risk of shocks. Equipment may function, but metal casings could be live!
Green only	Neutral disconnected, circuits live	Hazardous. Switches will isolate, equipment  will not operate, but  may be live.
Red only	Reversed polarity, live pin disconnected, but appliances may be live	Very dangerous installation.  Switches will not isolate equipment correctly, equipment will not operate, risk of shocks if equipment malfunctions.

The more sharp-eyed among you may be wondering what the control switch above the socket is for.  A few years ago a friend of mine had his Mercruiser outdrive very badly damaged by corrosion.  He had always been meticulous in replacing the anodes every season, whether they needed it or not.  The casing was actually ruined, and a replacement part (excluding labour) cost him several thousand pounds.  I was in the same marina, and had noticed that my anodes had disappeared in a matter of a few weeks.  I investigated with a test meter, and identified an earth fault in the supply coming in to the marina.  Essentially, everyone in the marina with shorepower was getting their anodes burnt away.  To give them their due, the marina sorted the problem pretty quickly once it was drawn to their attention, but it made me think seriously.  I considered a galvanic isolator, but these were rather more than I was prepared to pay, and in the particular circumstances I described, the earth fault was so serious that the galvanic protector would probably have offered little protection.

My solution to the problem was to install my own earth on the boat, with the earth circuit permanently connected to the underwater metalwork.  At the same time, I installed a switch (above the socket in the picture) which disconnects the shore earth.   I carried out the appropriate earth tests (as prescribed in the wiring regulations – being qualified as an electrician helps here!) and discovered that my earth was significantly better than the shorepower one.  When we are afloat with shorepower in seawater, the switch is put to the off position to protect the anodes.  Ashore, or when using the generator, or shorepower in freshwater (or in water of low salinity, for example in a tidal river where there is significant freshwater input)  we turn the switch on and use the shore earth.

I have to emphasise that my solution to the earthing problem does not comply with the wiring regulations, as it requires intelligent input and use by a “competent person” as defined in the regulations, because forgetting to switch it on again when required (or not knowing when to do so) can result in a hazardous  installation.  However, if you are competent and have suitable test equipment to check the earth continuity, it is a very effective way of ensuring that your anodes do not protect other boats in the marina.



Wendy’s Diary 22 April 2012 – Spain!

St Jean de Luz is in a stunning location, but, like Cornwall, the wind blows and it rains a lot. The reception from the locals was truly amazing, we were treated like guests of honour in the local fishing club which became a regular haunt. We are not accustomed to drinking out much, living on a tight budget as we do, but this really was an exception and was not expensive. During the week we were invited to an evening of traditional Basque singing by the local male voice choir which was fantastic.

The club members didn’t want us to leave and kept saying that the weather would continue to be bad and we would have to stay there. Much as we enjoyed being there, we felt it was time to move on as soon as the weather would permit, and on Monday, after the wind blew very strongly all night we woke up to a flat calm and took the opportunity of the afternoon tide to make tracks. A weeks’ marina berthing came to 51 euros and the Capitainerie gave us a 2011 almanac as a parting gift, so all in all an absolute bargain. The 6 mile sail to Hendaye went without incident, and we very soon found our way around the back of the marina and anchored in the bay, sheltered from the worst of the winds that were forecast for later that night.

In the morning we wanted to go in search of bread, and having stopped first at the local sailing club to ask permission to leave the dinghy, we found no one so moved on to a pontoon belonging to the Yachting club. A request to leave the dinghy for a while was not granted, with apologies, but the mayors orders, and by the way, anchoring is no longer permitted in the bay and if you don’t go and move your boat we will report you to the local authorities! We went round to the marina at Hendaye who quoted us 42 euros for 2 nights, with the 3^rd free. Not in the marina but on a cheaper pontoon on an outside wall, no water or electricity. We walked over to inspect it, the wind was causing some steep slop, and agreed it would make a very uncomfortable berth.

These were the waves inside the harbour!

We decided to take our chances and go and enquire on the other side of the river, so upped anchor to motor over to SPAIN. At Hondaribbia we found a very welcoming Capitanerie and the offer of berthing for 11 euros a night including wifi. Another very scenic location on the odd occasions that the rain clears and you can see the mountains. Several days of high swell (5M) and SW winds followed so we stayed put exploring the area on our folding bikes. John has been delighted to be speaking Spanish again, although a little rusty and somewhat complicated with all the French in his head. My vocabulary extends to about 20 words, and I am not planning on breaking my other leg in order to be able to converse in another language.

The old walled town of Hondarribia

On Saturday the pontoons burst into life when all the locals arrived to do waht boaters do when the time permits but the weather is not good. Spring cleaning, general maintenance, catching up with old friends, checking out new neighbours etc. John went out to speak to a local couple who were peering at Freya Frey, and, as is his wont, invited them onboard for a cup of coffee. 4 hours later and with a lot of information exchanged, we moved to their boat for a very enjoyable evening meal. This was another lovely and to us typical example of the camaraderie that exists within the boating world.

Today we set off, with two destinations in mind depending on the weather. The favoured one being Getaria, 20 miles away, with Posajes, a commercial port available 6 miles away if the weather/sea turned disagreeable. Plan C came into play around half an hour after setting off which was to return to Hondarabbia as the swell was very uncomfortable. I have taken a screenshot of our electronic chart software, the purple squiggly line is our “track”, showing how we poked our nose out beyond the headland to test out the swell.

The track out beyond the headland and back!

Wendy’s Diary 11 April 2012 – Sailing again!!

March continued pretty much the same as February, with sanding and painting a regular activity. We were paid up in the marina until 1^st April and didn't want to pay for any additional nights so it was full steam ahead to get the boat ready to set sail. The weather continued to be very kind to us and we spent a lot of time outside, even when not painting, which for me being used to long office hours was very much appreciated.

We rounded off the month by bringing/taking (where do we live??) Annie and Philippe (who so willingly and patiently looked after me with my broken leg) to Cornwall for a holiday and to leave our car behind. We had 5 fabulous days of sunshine and did the touristy things like eating fish and chips on a harbour wall, cream teas, drinking Cornish beer – you get the picture? On our return to Pornichet we had an “open boat” afternoon for friends we had made in the area to come and say goodbye. Annie and I bid a very tearful goodbye on the Saturday evening and Philippe came back to see us off on the Sunday morning, with a meteo forecast that was almost perfect.

Our first stop was Ile d’Yeu (37 miles), the pilot book says a very pretty island with stunning scenery along the south coast. We only used the engines for a few minutes at either end of the journey and dropped anchor below an ancient fort on the cliff side, which was rather picturesque:

With the meteo as it was we decided there was no time for sightseeing and took advantage of the northerly’s to push us on our way. Our second stop was the river at Auguillon (58 miles), it was dark by the time we arrived and we had to pick our way between the mussel beds until we were far enough up the river for a comfortable anchorage. This had been an uncomfortable passage and for the first time onboard Freya Frey I had been seasick.  A good night’s sleep was brought to an slightly early end when a stream of local fishermen headed out to find the day’s catch.

The meteo was still forecasting Northerlies so we continued south to our next port of choice which was Rochefort (37 miles). This was a smoother passage which found us a berth for the night on the visitor’s pontoon, next to the “Corderie Royale” an amazing and well maintained building which seemed to go on forever. It was particularly picturesque after dark and I was pleased that my camera coped with the lighting:

We spent a very long time studying charts and discussing with local sailors/fishermen the options for heading south. We could either go round the outside of Ile D’Oleron adding around 15 miles to the journey, or go through the channel between the island and the mainland which the pilot books and charts strongly state that this should only be done in good weather and on the turn of high tide. The weather was settled, there was just a gentle breeze from the North so we decided the channel would be feasible.

On looking further at the charts we ran into the next conundrum - where to go next. Into the Gironde Estuary was looked a nice days sail away...but if we left the Oleron channel on the high tide at our hull speed it was the wrong state of tide to enter the Gironde. OK, so the forecast was good, we were well rested, how about we carry straight on to Arcachon....wrong state of tide again. Back to plan B, go round the north of Oleron..but every option we looked at had the same problem, it was always going to be the wrong time of tide, and/or impossible with the wind in the north to get in anywhere.

Another study of the meteo and we made the decision to head straight for Bayonne, which was enterable at most states of tide. We needed to go back down the Charente river on the ebb tide to opted for an overnight anchorage on Ile D’Aix, very close to Fort Boyard. The short distance from the mouth of the Charente across to the island was wind against tide and John had to work very hard using the twin engines to steer us across. Once in the lee of the land we headed for the shallows and took a drying mooring and settled down for the night.

It was an midday tide to start the journey so we had a relaxing morning checking every meteo report to ensure that we were making the best decision. All was looking good, the northerlies were forecast for several days, it was clear blue sky and sunshine and a calm sea state. 

The passage started well, as we neared the road bridge that connects the island to the mainland we both stated having doubts as to its height. The chart didn’t have the height and John did his usual trick of comparing the height of the lampposts on the bridge to the gap below, and this confirmed there was plenty of height. As we approached the angle became deceptive and with John out on deck and me at the helm we crept underneath and breathed a sigh of relief as we passed through. On later checking a different chart we had about 10m to spare, but it certainly didn’t seem that way at the 

time. 

The channel was well buoyed and only varied slightly from our charts. The final approach to the open sea was unsettling for me as we had breaking waves on both sides (complete with people surfing), but the buoyed channel through the deeper water had no surf and we safely entered the Atlantic waters once more. Sail up, time to head south, John bagged the first sleep and off we set. The next 24 hours passed pleasantly and on the second afternoon, we sat out on deck drinking a cup of tea and thinking this was the life.

Not long after the wind dropped to virtually nothing, no problem, engine on, motor ahead. By this time we were about half way down the sand dune that runs from Arcachon to Bayonne. Out of nowhere, the wind turned and very quickly built up to a southerly force 7. The seas became very short and steep and very uncomfortable. The dinner that I had enjoyed earlier soon fed the fishes and for an hour we battled on, hardly making any progress over the ground. We made the call that we had to turn back and so headed north, knowing that the next port was a long way off. It was demoralising to say the least and I continued to feel very ill. We struggled on through the night, making between 2 and 3 knots under bare poles (no sails, no engines) for 17 miles.

At dawn, the wind veered to the west and we decided to turn south again, and taking it in turns to sleep or helm we battled through not just mine but John’s worst passage on record. My spirits lifted a bit when the weather cleared enough to see the spectacular mountain range of the Pyrenees with snow capped peaks. Around 6pm, after 56 hours and 200 miles we finally entered the river at Bayonne. Finding a suitable anchorage proved impossible so we chose to find shelter in the marina, something we wouldn’t normally do but under the circumstances felt was well deserved. The capitainerie was closed but a few minutes after arriving the directeur appeared and welcomed us to Bayonne, gave us access codes to the facilities and free wifi and wished us a good night.

After 2 nights (11.5 euros per night) of rest we headed out once more, this time for a short 12 mile hop down to St Jean de Luz. After a slightly bumpy but expected exit from the river at Bayonne we reached glassy seas, and I captured a contented John at the helm.

We had an enjoyable afternoon sailing with views of more snow capped peaks behind Biarritz before we entered the scenic bay of St Jean de Luz, 5 miles north of the Spanish border. We anchored close to the fort at Socoa and took a gentle stroll around the harbour.

I had been on holiday in the region about 8 years earlier and we had climbed one of the local mountains, La Rhune, which is the back drop for the bay.

After a peaceful night at anchor, the weather didn’t last and a forecast westerly gale set in. We were sheltered by the land and fort but decided it would be prudent to stay on board in case of any problems. We spent the afternoon watching a video of “Singing in the Rain” with very frequent interruptions from special meteo broadcasts updating on the storm blowing through. By late afternoon the swell picked up, despite the short fetch from the west, and in the evening we sought shelter in the little marina at Ciboure-St Jean de Luz.

The Capitainerie was closed but the adjoining bar was open, a fishing club rather than sailing, where we were made very welcome and stayed for a drink. The barman declared the tab was on him, we were welcome to return the following lunchtime so we thanked him and headed back to the boat. After a morning stroll around Ciboure we returned to the bar, were introduced to the president and spent an enjoyable couple of hours discussing all things nautical. We were presented with a Basque courtesy flag (something which we had tried but failed to buy beforehand) and in exchange gave the club a St Piran flag. The tab was again on the house and we returned to the boat for a siesta.

Later in the afternoon we unfolded our bikes and cycled from one end of the bay to the other, it is a truly beautiful bay and port and we felt something like normal once more and the ground had stopped swaying.