Chris Across Atlantic
13 Sept 2006

Sailing to Spain!

Hi’a everybody, from Camarinas, Spain. I must say this landfall was a blessed one, as the trip down was particularly difficult. Here picks up the story:

Sailing from Ireland to Spain should be pretty straightforward- go south and maybe a little east and you’re guaranteed to find land. As I was soon to find out, the trip wasn’t to be so straightforward. As my boss in college was fond of saying, “…details, details…” The details involve the track of Atlantic weather systems, mostly Low pressure cells which track across the north Atlantic and veer off towards the Irish and Scottish coasts. Almost without exception these lows would be to the west of my course and would give contrary winds, namely south, southwest and southeast. So all August I was waiting for a depression to pass, giving westerly and northwesterly winds with the hope of an easy sail south. And so it was on the 6th of September that I took the plunge and headed out Kinvara Bay, next stop Spain. The first 36 hours were straightforward sailing- Easy reaching conditions in westerly’s followed by some running as the wind clocked around to the north and northeast. Then the wind kept coming around to the east and then, what I dreaded, southeast. All the time I was able to get weather info from BBC4 on long wave, and it was without a doubt, accurate. So the long beat began with the wind out of the Southeast at force 5 to 7. Plenty strong for my tastes, really, say 25 knots. With two reefs in the main and the “small jib” up (its 80% LP for those who know what that means) Tradition started the bash to the south- little did I know it would last over 3 days. To give an idea of the motion, it was rough enough that, on several occasions, I heard the anchor chain go weightless and hit the underside of the deck. A pot wouldn’t stay on the cooker. Standing was difficult. Any job requiring both hands was almost out of the question. Outside was a very wet experience, spray coming back to the cockpit. All the time Tradition carried a “baby in the bonnet”- sea water collected in the reefed part of the mainsail. It was in short- a b**ch.

I looked back on the trip, plotted the position fixes and thought about strategies when facing such a trip. In hindsight, I think I managed pretty well. My strategy went something like this: Say the wind is out of the south. One can head SE or SW. Using the BBC forecasts I’d make the choice- say the wind is forecast to go SW, then I’d head SW and when the wind goes to the SW, tack back to the S or a bit SE of S. I think this allows one to sail the shortest course (correct me if I’m wrong), all the while making the boat head toward the favorable wind shifts- i.e. chase the weather you want. Also, it only works in areas where the wind will shift. I doubt it would work in the trade winds. In total we covered 750 miles in 6 days, 12 hours. The straight line, shortest course would be some 650 miles or so.

So my days were scheduled around the BBC shipping forecasts, updated every six hours. Can you imagine my mood when, after 3 days of beating, the wind was forecast to come around to the NW? Yahoo I thought, I can actually make Spain on one tack now! Well, west was all the wind came around to, and much lighter than I could have wanted (bitch, bitch, bitch), until, after about 12 hours of that, the wind died to a light SW’ly. Meanwhile the boys back in the UK were talking of strong to gale force Southerlies. Not handy. The big wind never came. With virtually no wind, on came the engine, and we set off motoring to Camarinas. With 65 miles to go, that was 13 hours of motoring, the only motoring I did on the entire trip. My luck the lads at the UK met office were wrong this one time. The S’ly came today, about 12 hours after I made it in. Even in port the wind was strong and it rained in buckets at times all day.

So, about Spain! It’s lovely, of course. In Camarinas all the old ladies make lace on these sort of long and skinny pillows. The threads are managed on wooden spools with short handles on the bottom of them. The spools seem to be identical and I wonder how one could keep a dozen of them identified in your mind. As the ladies work away, the spools click together and it’s this wonderful soft sound you hear as you walk the streets of the old part of town. Seeing things like this make journeys like the one just endured all the more worthwhile. I was in the hardware store today with a pair of delivery crew from another boat. While the old lady was working away on the lace, we were trying as best we could to describe what a woodruff key (keeps steering wheels, propellers, etc. from spinning on their shafts) was to the daughter. Strange sign language, pictures drawn, and so on. Meanwhile the old lady was clicking away behind the counter. The daughter waves up toward a door, inside which was revealed a full up machine and fabrication shop. Racks of stainless steel all over the place. Strange places, these, with amazing contrasts.

Today I checked Tradition into the Marina (Club Nautico de Camarinas) at a rate that made me do a double take. I even when back to ask if he meant that was the price per meter, VAT inclusive, etc. A month on the dock for 112 Euro? Shocking. In contrast- In Portsmouth, NH, one night is $90! The price for 3 weeks and one month being the same, she’s checked into the place for a month. This is the first time Tradition has been in a proper pontoon marina in the time I’ve owned her! I don’t think she knows what to do…still the smallest mast around…

The contrasts keep coming. Last night I met a really great couple setting off on a 3 year circumnavigation. By the book as well- that is Jimmy Cornell’s “world cruising routes.” They are a nice couple and I had lots of (internal) chuckles then they talk about schedules and so on. I suppose their naiveté convinced them to try to head south around Cape Finnistere this morning in a southerly wind of around 30 knots. It wasn’t long before they came rolling back around the breakwater.

Contrast a great couple with the fellow I met this afternoon in the marina. He and his wife had just come in on a brand new Malo 40. Read “daddy has a brand spanking new Caddy.” I asked where he had come from and he replied with Southampton and that he desperately needed diesel. “Could I get some here?” “I dunno”, I replied,
I just got here as well.” “Where from,” he asks. “Ireland” I reply. I suppose seeing a little rough looking 27 footer that had just come from more or less the same place as him was too much for him. Really didn’t mean to piss him off. Oh well.

There is much more to say about Gallica, Spain, and Camarinas. Maybe more later…

Chris