We
left Fig Da Foz hoping one day we might get back – great veg market
not far from the marina and an interesting town too. We set off also
hoping to get to Cascais but frustrating winds or lack of, saw us
beating slowly one way then another as we tried to make it south. At
one point we thought of anchoring off Berenga Island but one look at
those already anchored and the rolling they were suffering put us off
that and we motored into Peniche for the night. The harbour was
smaller in memory than it actually is but, like before, crowded
enough to require boats to raft up. Luckily the big steel one we
rafted to was unoccupied. In truth it isn't much of a harbour as the
wash from passing boats causes too much movement but it was only for
one night and then onto Cascais.
The
winds were stronger although still from ahead as we beat south. The
radio was alive with chatter as boats sought to find better
conditions from friends. Those closer in seemed to be getting a
smoother ride but the only option for us was to keep beating, using
the engine to improve the angle on the outward leg. With some 15
miles to go the wind died and we motored against a fading day toward
the anchorage, arriving in the dark and dropped anchor happily
amongst 10 or so other boats.
We
stayed at anchor for several days with little wind but a persistent
swell which sometimes eased but still made sleep restless. For us it was bad enough but a square rigger that came in had a hard time of it. In truth it is not a great anchorage but we remained.
The evenings entertainment being a light show from a nearby beach.
With the prospect of a stiff 25 knots from the south forecast we upped anchor and headed for Seixal, about 17 miles up river. Interesting to sail past Lisbon and onto the narrow channels that took us to our destination, jostling for space with innumerable ferries and high speed cats that ply the waters – shades of New York only sunnier.
The evenings entertainment being a light show from a nearby beach.
No idea how this was done... |
With the prospect of a stiff 25 knots from the south forecast we upped anchor and headed for Seixal, about 17 miles up river. Interesting to sail past Lisbon and onto the narrow channels that took us to our destination, jostling for space with innumerable ferries and high speed cats that ply the waters – shades of New York only sunnier.
We
arrived a dusk following a very pristine wooden ketch and were
advised that the holding was poor and a buoy should be picked up.
This we duly did but a small German boat was at anchor and I rowed
over to ask him about depths etc. As this was his sixth visit over
many years we preferred his take on the anchorage – good holding,
very safe – and moved off the buoy at first light. When the
southerly came through it reached 30 knots and we were more than
happy to be at anchor and away from Cascais.
This
is an interesting area - a small river off the main Lisbon artery
with a couple of boatyards with a lot of boats already hauled for the
winter. The two adjacent towns have prominent Portuguese Communist
Party buildings/presence/flags, are slightly run down but have a
charm for all that.
The area where we were anchored had several buildings which, we were assured, dated back several hundred years and were being left to rot or being surreptitiously used by the homeless and dispossessed of the area. A flock of pink flamingoes wandered the shallows at low water busily feeding and looking photogenic.
The area where we were anchored had several buildings which, we were assured, dated back several hundred years and were being left to rot or being surreptitiously used by the homeless and dispossessed of the area. A flock of pink flamingoes wandered the shallows at low water busily feeding and looking photogenic.
With
the wind promising to switch to a more favourable angle we headed
back to Cascais for the night, leaving the following morning for
either Sines or Cape St Vincent. In the event the winds were neither
favourable or particularly strong and we opted to keep going through
the night by drifting rather than anchor in Sines. In fact we drifted
a second night as gradually worked our way down to the Cape. This
particular leg seemed to throw up a number of issues and made us
realise: a. I'd become a tad complacent; b. A lot of our gear is in
need of replacing.. Complacency: We were below when we heard a loud
bang on the foredeck and rushed up to find the bottlescrew on the
outer forestay had unscrewed itself. As this sits on the end of the
bowsprit almost 3 metres off the bow it presented a bit of a problem.
Luckily the wind was light enough to enable us to drop the genny
without any real issues. Or so we thought... Anyway we sorted out the
bottlescrew using the jib halyard attached to the traveller to
support the bowsprit whilst I slid along it and secured a line to the
forestay whilst Bee cranked it close enough to be able to re-screw
the whole lot together. I think that's when we found the genny had
torn though old age and until we repair is unusable. Bit of a bummer
but it did have us experimenting with the drifting sail we had
made...
We rounded Cape St Vincent accompanied by a heavy rain squall that had us closeted in oilies (something else that needs replacing) and then passed on leaving no wind. We motored onto Portimao arriving a little after sunset and anchored, glad to have finally made it round the corner....we seem to have been beating since the Orkneys.
We rounded Cape St Vincent accompanied by a heavy rain squall that had us closeted in oilies (something else that needs replacing) and then passed on leaving no wind. We motored onto Portimao arriving a little after sunset and anchored, glad to have finally made it round the corner....we seem to have been beating since the Orkneys.
Couple
of other issues have raised themselves. The downhaul we use to
tighten the luff of then heads'l has a habit, when a heads'l is being
changed, of swinging wildly about the mast. At its least serous it
wraps itself around shrouds or baggywrinkle and is a pain to unravel.
For more serious is when it delivers a glancing blow to Bee's head as
she changes or lowers the sail. For years we have resisted the
logical step of reducing its length as this also reduces the amount
of tension you can exert but enough is enough. The leg to Cape St V
had her being battered on 3 separate occasions. And that wasn't then
end of her travails....in releasing the mainsheet arrangement it
momentarily jammed and she made to free it. At the same instant it
freed itself and slid across the horse catching the end of her finger
between the shackle and an immoveable object...... I have never seen
her so stunned or, worse still frightened, as the pain hit her. For
her part she had visions of the end of her finger being torn off as
happened to a friend of ours. Well it wasn't torn off but was badly
split – blood everywhere - and we rapidly doused it liberally in
hydrogen peroxide and then covered it. Ideally we could have coated
it in super glue to aid the healing but for some reason didn't think
of it until much later. Whilst it is now healing it remains slightly
flattened and bruised. We're replacing these shackles with grommets
which will be far kinder to all concerned.
The
journey from Portimao gave us the best sail for many a month,
possibly the whole year. The wind was favourable and with everything
from topsail to mizzen uo we romped through the water. Most boats we
saw on this passage now appear to be heading back to northern Europe
and will face a slog back up the coast as the winds are now switching
back to the NW... Our wind didn't last and I wondered whether we
could just duck into Faro and anchor for the night...the coast past
Faro has miles of fish farms and the prospect of getting caught up
with them or drifting 'til the morning lost out to an anchorage. I
knew we were late and as we approached our speed slowed from 5.2k to
3.8k. OK so far but the strongest ebb lay ahead of us. Across the
entrance a wall of water pulsated and we gradually got into it and we
fought our way into the channel getting knocked about in the process
and made it to an oh so quiet spot where we dropped for the night. In
the distance dozens of yachts could be seen at anchor between Culatra
and Oleheo but we were far enough in for a quiet time. The journey
out was a lot quicker although still lumpy but no wind for much of
the day. With yet another tide gate to reach we opted to motor,
sailing only when we were able to maintain a reasonable speed, got to
the entrance and into the river. We'd intended anchoring off
Ayomonte, the big Spanish town but with a favourable current running
we opted to go up river as far as we could. In the event it was all
the way to Alcoutim/San Luca and in an odd coincidence anchored 11
years to the day that we were last here. So many boats are now on the
river; not simply at this end but as we came up. Where we anchored
alone around the bend a little north from here has a dozen boats,
some on moorings. Few abandoned finca's (small Spanish houses) as most have been bought, rebuilt and inhabited. In terms of the
local economy the influx of yotties must have had a huge
impact...Alcoutim now has free public showers. The downside is twenty
miles from the coast it is significantly hotter and summer temps can
reach around 45C-50C/113F-122F which for us is a real nono.
Later
we'll head further up river to see friends who live some of the time
here, some of the time at sea before we make a decision on what we do
next.