Muxia to Finisterre N42 56 W9 15
Gryphon II
Chris and Lorraine Marchant
Thu 6 Aug 2009 08:18
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Muxia Fishing Harbour
We are harbour bound because the wind is dead south which
is the way we want to sail and we don't want to beat into it for 22 miles or so
to Finisterre which is our next port of call. Chris decided to have an electrics
day to ensure that our solar panels and wind generator are producing maximum
charge. Electrics days usually mean much colourful language and this was no
exception. The wind generator power socket is in the anchor well and it has
semi-corroded, we need a better arrangement for this but the one we have
is......... sorted temporarily. A row ashore, walk over
the hills and a spot of shopping, C has bought Spanish corn flakes - cannot find
porridge anywhere!
Forecast is for the wind to move into NW sometime
tomorrow, we shall leave in the morning but not very early. All down this
Northern Spanish Atlantic coast the afternoons give better winds. As the land
heats up the warm air rises latger in the day and pulls in the colder air from
off-shore; this creates pleasant sea breezes, onshore winds, which make for good
sailing so a late start is often preferable if the distance to travel is not too
great.
1st August 2009 and off to Finisterre
A pinch and a punch for the first of the month and we were
ready to leave at 10.40 a.m. Forecast is NW 4-5, just great but it is blowing SW
at the moment so we are under mainsail and engine
leaving the Ria. Continued for 35 minutes then the wind swung right about to
give NW, genoa out and mainsail set we are careering along at an
exhilarating 8.5 knots with wind increasing. Another half hour and we have
reefed as the wind gusts force 7 pushing us through big, lumpy, confused seas
which confound the auto pilot, very uncomfortable and tiring. After a couple of
hours the wind has eased but the sea is still chaotic being plunged into
NW winds after a long spell of southerlies , the headlands add to the
confusion where the already big swell gets even bigger and very choppy. The rain
pours down and the cloud has dropped causing a heavy mist so that the
land is blotted out altogether. We are navigating along this rocky
coast on compass and GPS with no comforting land marks to help, with mist or fog
this thick you really have to trust the instruments but it is unnerving. Ah
well, we are sailing to the end of the world - Finisterre the Romans named it
and it certainly feels like that today.
 I wish I had remembered to put my hood up but this rain
will do wonders for my natural wave.
Further south and the seas settled into a heavy swell,
dolphins visited us but the rain was so heavy that we didn't see much of them.
There were sea birds everywhere: gannets, shearwaters, various gulls and
black backs circling in profusion. We haven't seen so many birds anywhere else
in Galicia. As we passed Cenlolo de Finisterre, a rock as big as a small island,
the mist cleared and the rain ceased.
 We rounded Cabo Finisterre to find a lovely village
skirted by the usual beach and what looked like a mini Brixham harbour full of
large, colourful fishing boats and lots of smaller fishing boats all on
mooring buoys. We couldn't stop there despite the giant harbour wall, which
makes Alderney harbour wall look rather small, the NW wind would cause us
problems here so we turned on the motor and aimed for a farther beach with its
sheltering hillside. A mile and a half of white crescent beach with pine forest
behind, just what we needed. We crept on and on toward the shore, the depth
altering little until we were less than 200 yards off then we dropped the hook
which dug into good holding sand. Getting ashore was
foamy and Chris got soaked as a wave thundered into the dinghy. We still had a
good walk through woods and over beach and dunes until it grew chilly and we
waded out with the dinghy, diving into it after the first big breaker and
paddling like mad over the next, it worked.
 
 We were anchored well in the shallow waters but the
weather forecast, which we get in Spanish and English, reported a change of wind
back to SW so after dinner we pulled the anchor and motored back to find refuge
behind the harbour wall but away from the moorings which offer a snarl of
rope and chain on the sea bed. However, our anchor felt odd as it hit bottom and
we suspect that it has fouled on something - we shall see tomorrow. Into
town to see what all the noise is about. Packed restaurants, a live band, a fun
fair and lots of food and beer stalls with posters announcing what the
celebrations are all about but we couldn't decipher as Galego, being so
different to Spanish, defeats us once again. Back to Gryphon II to sleep in a
light swell that creeps around the harbour wall.
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