Farewell Portugal
16 June 2016 | Islas Ciel, Galician Atlantic islands, Spain
David and Andrea
Definitely dodgy. The weather forecast for the 220nm run north along the Atlantic coast provided the rare commodity of favourable winds but it came at a significant price. Huge seas, squalls and rain driven by a low sitting to the north of Cape Finisterre were to be the penalties.
Our time in Cascais had come to end after a successful repair of oil leaks around the oil filter bracket mounting on the Yanmar. I learned a lot about how to remove 18 year old gaskets that were stuck on like, well you know what. We had made some new friends but as is so often the case they are going in different directions.
The problem for us was that the steady winds along this coast are from the north. Most boats going north motor the distance in short hops early in the mornings, taking about a week or more to do it. In our infinite wisdom we decided to take the “window” and cover it in one go.
At 45 miles we were still motoring in calms before a small front came across and the NW breeze built. We were hard on the wind for a while but could hold our course. The breeze backed enough to slightly free the sheets but then increased. And with it the seaway. Diomedea was in her element but she goes to windward so much better than we do. The barometer had dropped 10 mBar since casting off. By dawn we were in full conditions, 2 deep reefs and staysail, confused seas up to 3.5m. The first of many line squalls came in at 38 knots. The day wore on as Diomedea slowly drew closer to her goal, but also relentlessly nearer to the never-ending lee shore with no ports of refuge available. Finally we came to Cabo Silleiro (near Vigo), the entry to the first of the Spanish Galician rias only to find that the harbour entry appeared quite dangerous. The massive swells, ramped up by an outgoing tide, were funnelled directly into the bay before finding shallow water. We would have had to run downwind toward this presumed zone of breakers, past numerous reefs, before gybing at the last minute into the small bay of Baiona with the marina. In 30 knot torrential rain squalls. Strangely there was no local boat traffic to be seen. Now, you might call us gutless, but we aborted the approach and continued on to the stunningly gorgeous anchorage of the Galician Atlantic islands where we enjoyed a settled evening. The rum and coke was excellent.