Fai Tira in Bay of Biscay.   47:10.25N 06:16.61W

 

8^th  September 2011

 

It was last Tuesday when gently powered away from the mooring at La Coruna. We all rose early. Most of the tasks had been completed the day before. The last one was to refuel, so now with the boat fully prepared and a weather window identified we pointed the bow North took some deep breaths and set out towards Biscay on what was to be the final  chapter of an epic journey. How fitting, then, that La Coruna should be our starting point for the final trip. It’s the only place that we’ve visited twice and two years ago it felt very much like the beginning of the adventure, providing the trigger mechanism for all the unknown events that would unfold. Now it was to be the starting point heralding the end of the journey.

The impact and memories of this place will, I think, linger long. Starting with the impressive and unmistakable land marks on the approach. The dramatic ancient lighthouse, the art work of the standing stones and the massive concrete and glass structure on the landward side of the powerful looking mole as it reached invitingly way out into the harbour entrance.

And then, most importantly, there were the people and their culture. Never has manana seemed more applicable. Everything moved at a pace that made sure that there was plenty of space for proper life to exist within it!

Probably it’s best summed up by the activity of Sunday Promenading. It’s a time when all the beautiful people, young, old, and in family groups spontaneously gather in one of the cobbled pedestrian precincts that stretch, tentacle like, from the central main square. And then, as if pre-ordained, the preening and ambling starts as they........Well just...... amble.

It all seems to happen without any identifiable purpose, as they just stroll, seemingly content with themselves, the world and just about everything in it.

It all appears so natural. After all what else would they do on a Sunday? It’s all very orderly, very civilized and all very........Spanish?

 

So that was it then. Our last visit to a foreign shore as part of this rally was over!

We finally turned our backs on the Spanish mainland at about 9am. We all had a pretty confident feeling. The US Grib files continued to indicate weather conditions that should prove favourable and anyhow we’d all crossed our fingers so it had to be okay........ Well it’s worked in the past!

For about the first 20 miles the winds were light and called for a lot of upping and downing of sails. However, as evening approached conditions changed. The sea became a bit more bumpy. The wind started to follow the boat and increased to a speed of 12-15 knots. We played with the sail settings for a while before once more settling for a goosewing formation that sent us scurrying along at an acceptable 5 – 5 ½ knots. These conditions lasted about an hour, then the wind speed increased to a force 5 and veered to a Westerly direction. The genoa was promptly pulled through to starboard. Now with the sails in a conventional setting we were scooting along on a broad reach making about 6 ½ knots........seas a bit bumpy, but very satisfying. If this were maintained it would certainly have the effect of shortening the journey!

As the sun disappeared into a watery horizon, we decided that the sail pattern would remain, but with the inclusion of a mainsail reef.

As we started the night watches the boat speed was being maintained. And so it was as I emerged into the cockpit to start my watch. The half moon was illuminating the surfaces of the boat and casting a soft glow of light causing reflections to bounce off an undulating, frothy and agitated sea.

The dark hours of the following morning heralded another change the moon had disappeared behind a blanket of cloud and the blackness was overpowering. It was cold and raining, and all of the sailing gains we’d made in the last 12 hours seemed to have disappeared. The sails were tucked away and the engine was once more humming.

Daylight came and went, and so did the dolphins. We’ve encountered miserable, damp cold and misty conditions, but then also warm sunshine. We’ve almost sailed as much as we’ve motored. We’re now about 200 miles from Dartmouth and 65 miles from completing the Biscay crossing. We’re sailing along  now Peter’s just started a new watch and visibility’s down to about two hundred yards. There we are then so-far-so-good.

See what I mean...... “Fingers crossed”!

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