Position: 37:06.6N 008:40.5W
- Lagos Marina
We left Cascais in beautiful sunshine and calm, turquoise waters
and arrived here in Lagos to much the same just twenty-four hours later - shame
we can't say the same about the bit in the middle.
The winds were directly behind us again, but as we're not in too
much of a rush now we decided to gybe, ie zig-zag along our heading at just
enough of an angle to keep the sails full of wind. This takes longer but
saves using the motor and, more importantly, the couple of hundred Euros of
diesel it's cost at each marina so far. We didn't get off to the best of
starts when we hoisted the main-sail only to discover the second
reefing line had chafed nearly all the way through. It's happened
somewhere inside the boom and it's a bit of a mystery. Chris is convinced
it is because the line is green - an unlucky colour on a boat, my only thought
was, "Great, more expense."
There were some stronger winds forecast for later North of
Cascais, but we were heading South and should have been well out of the
way. Mother Nature had other ideas and sent the winds south to test
us. Gusts of 25-30 knots, squalls full of heavy rain, and such a swell on
the sea it was like riding a roller-coaster. As ever, the forepeak cabin
felt the worst of it. So far we've had slamming directly onto the waves,
the sock in a tumble-dryer rotary motion, and this time the waves were on the
beam so we had a constant side to side motion like someone trying to
erase an Etch-a-Sketch. It was pretty horrendous so none of the crew
managed much sleep. Even seasoned-sailor Ryan gave up on his bunk and
collapsed on a bean-bag under the chart-table.
There was a little bit of excitement just after midnight when
Matt spied a very large tanker in front of us which slowed from over 13 knots to
nearly stationary. Our AIS told us it was the vessel Natacina and was
travelling at 1.1 knot across our path. It was difficult to know which way
to pass the vessel, and whether or not it would suddenly fire up its engines and
you don't want to get on the wrong side of something that's 899ft long and wider
than you are tall, so Ryan contacted Natacina on the VHF radio and was
informed they were drifting without engines. They were still in view,
drifting slowly six hours later.
With no chance of sleeping, I joined Chris half way through his
watch at 3:30am to keep him company. He'd been pooped - immersed by a huge
wave in the cockpit and he was freezing. The winds were so strong all the
beanbags and cushions had been stowed below decks so we sat on the cold wet teak
wondering how long it takes to contract piles. It was bitterly
cold and by the time my shift started I was already frozen to the core.
The walls of waves were so high the coastline of Portugal would disappear for a
few seconds before bobbing back into view. There was just a tiny sliver of
a crescent of the moon, and Venus was providing more light, but I
wasn't overly keen on seeing what was out there. I was so tired the
rocking motion was sending me to sleep despite the wind howling around my ears
and the chattering of my teeth. I think it was the longest three hours of
my life.
At sunrise, the full extent of the waves was
revealed; angry slate-grey moving mountains tipped with white foam,
even the dolphins were staying away. I spotted a plane high in the sky and
wondered if it was on its way to the Canaries (and how much it would be to fly
from Faro). Things started to subside just before I went to bed and
when I woke just six hours later we were back to blue skies, light winds and
wondering whether it had just been a bit of a
nightmare?
