Friday 27  May, 2016

South  Biscay, Off Spain 43 47.9N 7 28.4W

Today's Blog by David  (Time zone: BST+1; UTC +2)

I was last in Gijon about 20 years ago. Navigating for the owner of a light displacement cruiser/racer on passage to La Coruna, the only available chart of Biscay was printed on an old tea towel (sic). Having been headed most of the way,  we had logged enough miles to put us well beyond Cape Finisterre already, so  when we made landfall,  I caused some consternation when,  (based upon the light characteristics of a couple of light houses)  I eventually announced we were off Gijon …. putting us about 120 miles off course,  east of our destination. That was some achievement in a 310 mile passage.   The frisson was compounded when we were boarded by customs officers as we closed the coast in daylight,  delaying us long enough to require us to creep gingerly into  Gijon in darkness.  One might be forgiven  for wondering what all the fuss was about back then as we drove at 7.5 knots into a huge, wide, open and deep harbour with no  real obstructions ……    J. 

Not surprisingly, the town has changed beyond recognition in the intervening years,  with high rise blocks and offices in all directions and this magnificent ‘sculpture’ of a fir tree:

Whatever one might think of its artistic merit, remarkably it is made of a few thousand wine bottles.  All the more remarkable because it remains intact.  In how many British town centres would such a structure survive the lads’ weekend binge drinking?

Formalities

Europe has begun to get inquisitive about its visitors and because we arrived from a non-Schengen country and with an Antipodean on board the authorities showed interest in us.    The marina had (as expected) passed on details of our arrival to the maritime police and at about 09.00 a rat-a-tat tat on the hull heralded the arrival of a customs officer – who thankfully spoke much more English than I do  Spanish  - and once he had shown me his credentials (he was in mufti),   we had a pleasant conversation as we completed those formalities.  After a few minutes, a disarmingly smiley uniformed policeman  arrived, his credentials in a holster at his hip, who wanted to deal with immigration.  He clearly hadn’t done all his homework though because he arrived without the stamp necessary to provide our Antipodean with a permit to enter.  All smiles, he explained to the Customs man – who explained to me as they both left  – that he “…Would be back.”

About an hour later, the first holster returned with an equally well credentialed friend who bristled with the necessary stamps and marked Ted’s passport accordingly. Despite the fact that neither of them spoke English and none of us Spanish, after a few smiles and shrugged shoulders, we became legal.

Big Brother is watching over us

For the remainder of the day, the crew dispersed to do touristy things.  I sought to find a SIM card for the boat 3G router and after three visits to the store in the course of the day I became the proud possessor of a data SIM card that was registered to the network.  So what? I hear you thinking.  Well consider this.

I paid in cash. The only document I handed over was my passport to identify myself with the limited data that that contains.  I didn’t not give my address nor phone number – I was not asked; indeed the sales rep filled in the ‘required telephone number’ space on my contract with random numbers.   So, how is it then that, before I returned to the store for my second visit, the network operator was able to find my UK mobile telephone number and send me text messages (sadly in Spanish) about the status of my new service?  Not even the shop sales man could explain it.  Creepy ……!

Crew change

Chris joined us to help out on the passage across Biscay and planned to leave us in La Coruna next week.  We had allowed 10 days for that passage assuming that we would have to wait for a weather window. In the event, we were blessed with favourable winds that allowed us to get a bit of a flier and to Gijon within the first four days.  The weather is forecast to be light/boring for the remainder of the week and so understandably Chris has decided to return to the UK to enable him to catch up with his day job – preparing Evrika for its summer cruising.   Sadly therefore, this morning we dumped Chris unceremoniously on the dockside to wait for a taxi to the airport as we set sail – or more accurately, set iron topsail, westward along the Spanish Coast.

Though brief, Chris’ contribution was meaningful.  Not only did he introduce us to Sidererias, he taught me a number of things: how to tie my shoe laces, (sic)  to set my staysail  when broad reaching and gave us all a masterclass in keeping the boat clean.  Through Reshma, his girlfriend, he also made a significant contribution on the gastronomic front.  Having already consumed an excellent, Reshma prepared, biryani  on passage here, last night we marked his departure with an equally appetizing, and appropriate Spanish Chicken.  He will be missed.

Our destination this evening is a sheltered an remote anchorage, somewhere between Gijon and La Coruna.  More soon.