La Coruna
Tillymint.fortescue
Fri 14 Aug 2009 10:16
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43:22.01N 008:23.69W
La Coruna, La Coruna; sounds like a
dance!!
Friday 14 August - oh my
readers how I have neglected you for the pleasures of the beach. The
crew made the most of their mutiny on Wednesday and dabbled in the dark
arts of a land lubbers day ashore. To make up for the skipper's devastation
at not being allowed to sail his boat we took him for a very nice lunch -
lots of strange sea creatures which Immy still refuses to acknowledge as
food. The waiter took pity on our attempts to wrestle with Spanish and
offered us a menu in English, we obviously haven't progressed with our
pronounciation despite concerted attempts to insert random lisps and spitting
sounds into the phrase book's suggested "say it like this" offerings. The
English menu was probably as lucid as our Spanish so we came up with a
cunning plan - Lobster! The poor hapless creatures were skulking in a tank and
all we had to do was point at one and it would turn into lunch. Three eager
volunteers were duly despatched to make the choice, they named him Luiz and I'm
sure he waved as he was carried off to the kitchen.
Although we haven't mastered the language we are
growing accustomed to the Spanish day - lunch at 2pm, on the beach til 7pm and
it's still light for dinner at 10pm . That what comes of being 2 hours
ahead of GMT and so far west that we are almost in New York. The beach was fab but just in case it's raining at home I
won't mention the cloudless sky, the cool clear water, the hot sand and the
burning sun.
Next day at around 9.05am we couldn't help but
notice the ship's log book left open at a new page with the beginnings of
the day's entry "From: Cedeira, To: La Coruna, Time: 09.15 (local)"
We took this as a hint; 10 minutes to finish
breakfast and then we're off. We nosed out of our lovely sheltered Ria back out
into the Atlantic to meet a "short" sea, lots of waves very close together, a
confused swell and a light following wind; all the essential ingredients
for a rollercoaster ride. Somehow it was not as bothersome as it would have
been in the English Channel - must be something to do with the relentless warmth
of the sun (sorry, did I mention the lovely weather again?). A few hours later
the sea had calmed and we approached a hazy port under a cloudless sky. Have I
mentioned the weather? We are beside ourselves with the heady excitement of
nearly a week of SUN!!
La Coruna is a big city, the capital of Galicia and
an established port of call for Biscay crossings, the sort that real men do when
they go in a straight line South West from Brittany, and a good place for a pit
stop. Tilly Mint needs fuel and water and a good scrub down to remove a crusting
of salt that has accumulated since Guernsey so we are heading for the marina.
The marina has space; lots of it as it happens, it is new and opened only a
couple of months ago and supply appears to outstrip demand, handy to
know if you are passing this way. They speak English (phew) and a fleet of
very charming chaps arrived alongside on bikes to help us moor. It was like
valet parking at a 5 star hotel. Despite my earlier cravings for pontoons we
have become strangely accustomed to anchoring and it feels odd to be attached to
land. Still it comes with benefits, lots of lovely fresh water to hose down the
boat (and the crew - all 4 children had a grand time) and oodles of shore
power to charge the batteries and run the washing machine non stop. Just as an
aside, if ever you thought hoisting a spinnaker was challenging, try
pegging out a kingsize duvet cover in the afternoon sea breeze; after a short
tussle I managed to get it flying on a magnificent port tack and it was dry in
no time. To continue the laundry analogy, northern Europe turns "down below"
into a washing machine and southern Europe turns "up top" into a tumble
drier!
We had a Japanese tourist style explore of the city
yesterday evening and stopped at a bar for a drink and "raciones" - the cunning
secret 4th meal of the day that the Spanish eat to keep them upright till dinner
at 10pm. Immy has pronounced the nation to be evil based on the things that they
do to tuna fish. It is her staple food and so far all tuna dishes have come
polluted with peppers and onions and spicy sauces; we might need to break
open a tin of John West on board to restore her faith.
Today we are doing a short hop to Finisterre -
literally the end of the earth to Roman yachties!
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