Faro Onwards 42:12.86N 09:01.62W

2nd  September 2011

I arrived in Faro on Monday to re-join Fai Tira for final phase of the journey; the trip along the coasts of Portugal and Spain, and then the jaunt! across Biscay before returning to the original. starting point, Dartmouth. The aeroplane flight from Gatwick was quite ordinary and surprisingly quick.  It had me realising just how close we were to finishing this epic journey. As touchdown approached I found myself feeling strangely apprehensive, probably for a whole bunch of, mostly, obvious reasons.......Well obvious to me anyway!

So here I was back in Faro some two years after Dee and I had made the frantic journey back to the UK to visit my desperately ill brother and as the taxi passed through familiar areas, my feelings became even more mixed. Soon the we arrived outside of the large Old Town church. It was at a restaurant, close by where I’d arranged to meet Peter and his friend Barry. With a few gestures and words, the driver managed to point me in the right direction. So after ensuring I’d left nothing behind and settling the fare, I strolled under the ornate stone constructed arch that marked the entrance to the church complex.

A short walk took me into a cobbled square. Tucked in one corner was the un-exciting frontage of a small cafe with its tables and chairs positioned  lazily opposite as they nestled under colourful awnings also gaining protection by the imposing backdrop of the tall stone built and floodlit walls of the impressive church.

I stood for a while just taking it all in. However, it soon became obvious that not only were Peter and Barry missing...... so were all the other customers.

The cafe owner spoke very good English. I enquired about the lack of customers. In response he cited the cold temperature as the reason! It was now approaching 9pm and in my estimation about twenty degrees, not the sort of temperature likely to deter me. So with the place almost to myself I settled down for a cold beer.

Before long Peter and myself were communicating. It seemed as though they had been delayed, I forgot to ask him at which bar!! Nothing for it then, ordered another beer, ate a pizza, people watched and waited.

It wasn’t too long before they arrived. Then, after the initial greetings had taken place, we were off to see if the once marooned dinghy was now floating, it was now beginning to feel as though I’d never been away. With everything loaded and us on board, we headed out into the blackness of the night aiming for a barely visible lighthouse some 2 ½ miles away.

Climbing back on board, for me, was a surprisingly emotionless event. Although I did find myself giving the boat hull a warm and affectionate pat, probably out of gratitude for behaving herself and keeping us safe during our marathon sail.

By the time we were finally on board, it was well after midnight and we quickly fell into bed. The next day start was to be prompt. We still had some preparation to complete before  what, we hoped would be, our first and final stop, La Coruna, before setting out across Biscay.

The grib files had been scrutinised well and predicted that at the start of the passage we’d be encountering a head wind. They also predicted that there was a good chance of countering that with some good sailing weather later on and that’s just how it turned out for the first couple of days!

Our plan was that we complete the outstanding jobs so that we had plenty of time to leave as close to slack water as possible. It was something that took place about 9am, if not we could end up battling with a ferocious tidal race that screams between the harbour walls entrance faster than we can travel under power. It all worked out and we were soon underway.

The gribs seemed to be getting it right and from early on we started to experience winds of twelve knots directly on the nose. However, I’d forgotten just how robust our engine is and it just seemed to resign itself for a long day at the office in smooth mode. It then proceeded to spend the rest of the day and following night just purring like a contented kitten.

We reached Cape St Vincent just as the daylight was fading and straight away nostalgic memories sprang to life, as it was about two years ago when we first witnessed this sight on the way out. And as Peter pointed out, it also marked the position where the boat finally stopped travelling West. This really does feel like the home leg now.

And then it was into night watches and all the discomfort of interrupted sleep patterns.

My first real stint on was at midnight.

Nothing romantic or memorable about this one though. As I stumbled out into the cockpit to be greeted by Barry, it looked as though the whole boat was engulfed in a dark impenetrable blackness. No moon, no stars and indeed no visible horizon. The only point of illumination was the light of a single large boat as it steamed across our path some miles in front. That’s just about how it remained until the much welcomed approaching dawn cast long tentacles of light, having the effect of turning  a cold grey scene into a slightly warmer yellowish one.

By the time daylight had become fully established, the predicted winds were beginning to make their presence felt. Last night, thankfully, had been calm and uneventful, but now at last we had the opportunity to hoist the sails and provide much overdue relief for our, now, overworked engine.

The winds took some time to establish themselves along with the innocent looking but encroaching band of grey cloud that seemed to be building slowly. However, it wasn’t long before the Westerly’s  started to show their muscle, producing an indicated speed of eight knots and with the sails conventionally set we were able to sustain a healthy 5-6 knots to a backdrop of relative silence that had the effect of provoking a sensation of serine tranquillity. This was sailing at its best, all we needed to do now was sight dolphins...........and guess what?

The evening meal I’d prepared was well received and seemed to go down well, that’s apart from the burnt potatoes. The wind was now following and we were running with a goosewing set-up. We were starting to feel good and even discussed the merits of continuing straight on to Dartmouth. However, just as we were relaxing the sea decided to give us a metaphorical poke in ribs, to ensure that we hadn’t forgotten just who’s boss. That innocent looking cloud, that had been gathering was now directly overhead and stretched as far as the eye could see. Watches had just changed and Peter, now with full wet weather gear on, had the cockpit to himself as the rain started..........The fun was about to begin!!

From down below the winds didn’t appear that strong, although the dramatic rolling of the boat, the sounds of rain hammering on the deck and the bangs from the backed mainsail as it filled and snapped back into shape, gave just a hint, that things, up above, might not be too comfortable!

At this point I donned my wet weather gear and joined Peter who was standing at the wheel looking rather wet and bedraggled and a bit like something that the waves had just washed on board. The winds were now touching a speed of thirty knots and the swells so bad that the boat was beginning to broach down them..... We needed to reef down!

It was about this time, for some reason, that my brain decided to remind me of the down side to sailing!

Our reefing procedures are, by now, well practiced and we could almost carry them out with our eyes closed ( just as well as most times they occurred at night) However, this sort of situation never fails to provide that adrenaline rush as once more we prepare to confront the elements head on. So with me at the helm and Peter forward at the at the uncomfortable bit, I turned the boat into wind in order to stop her.......Now it really did feel as though we were in a gale as we began to feel the full force of the wind...... Exciting stuff this!!

The task was completed without a hitch and after applying a corresponding reef to the genoa we carried on feeling that now, at least, we were able to exert a little more control over the boat and our destiny!.........Welcome back to the Atlantic Northern Hemisphere style!!

Sunset last night.

What a re-union for me! The next couple of days were back to the status quo of engine on heading into light Northerly’s, but making steady progress

La Coruna tomorrow..........More nostalgia!