Up a Lazy River
26 October 2013 | Portugal
Peter
Photograph: ‘Salara’ at anchor at Alcoutim, Rio Guadiana.
I had stayed for four nights in Ayamonte waiting for the weather to settle down and for the sun to shine. With time to kill before
’Salara’ was due to be laid up at Faro I took her further up the Rio Guadiana, passing under the elegant suspension bridge that carries the motorway between Spain and Portugal then leaving the coastal marshes to follow the river as it snakes between the inland hills. I had left at half flood which would carry ‘Salara’ easily as far as the towns of Alcoutim and Sanlucar that stand facing each other on opposite banks of the river which marks the border, Alcoutim in Portugal and Sanlucar in Spain. There is plenty of depth and basically I keep to the centre of the river favouring the outside of the bends while keeping a sharp eye out for floating debris. I have made this trip twice before but that was some years ago so I was on the alert for any changes that may have occurred in the meantime.
‘Salara’ arrived in just under four hours and anchored on the Portuguese side a little downstream of Alcoutim and over twenty miles from the sea.
The river is not just the border between Spain and Portugal but also of two time zones. Portugal being one hour behind Spain.
When you hear the church clocks in both towns strike different hours it takes a little getting used to.
The Rio Guadiana is one of those places that many yachtsmen visit and then never leave so there is quite a thriving community of resident yachties, mostly British. Some have even sold their yachts and have gone to live ashore on whichever side of the river suits them best. The river has become a retirement home for ancient sailors.
When I visited here in 2008 I took ‘Salara’ a long way further up the river, almost as far as the old town of Mertola, over 30 miles from the sea and way beyond the area described in the Pilot Book. This time I was content just to stay at anchor off Alcoutim lazing in the late summer sun and occasionally fending off the tangled rafts of bamboo that drift up and down with the tide.
On the Spanish bank there is what I assume is a long distance footpath which follows the course of the river and provides pleasant and scenic walking along what may possibly have been a pack horse route in bygone times.
Two weeks past quickly and as it would soon be time for ‘Salara’ to be lifted out at the boatyard in Faro for the winter months so I was forced to make plans to get there for the last week in October.
I left Alcoutim on the first of the ebb, thankful that I had not been tempted to join the local ‘ancient sailor’s club’. There must still be spark of life left in me yet! I was in no hurry so I anchored halfway down river at the hamlet of Foz de Odeliete.
Later as I sat in the cockpit reading I had the binoculars close to hand to watch a kingfisher hunting from the bushes along the bank while on the opposite bank a grey heron patiently awaited unwary fish.
The next day ‘Salara’ completed her trip downstream and I put her into the marina at Ayamonte for a few days while I waited for the tides to become favourable for the passage west along the coast to Faro.
On a windy and rainy Saturday, a brief reminder of British weather, I left the marina and anchored ‘Salara’ outside in the river so that she could leave easily on the ebb tide early the next morning.
At 0500am next day we were on our way gliding quietly past the Portuguese town of Villa Real then following the long training wall with the lighthouse on its end. I could the see the two pairs of green and red lights on the buoys that marked the channel across the shallow sandbar. It is no place to make a mistake here but all was in our favour. Visibility was good, a full moon, and the sea was calm. Once over the bar I steered ‘Salara’ out to sea, picked up the 30 metre depth contour and set course for a waypoint off Faro entrance twenty three miles away. I had timed it so that ’Salara’ would enter two hours after low water she could then make a leisurely trip up the long channel through the marshes to the anchorage at Faro. Everything went according to the passage plan and after negotiating the masses of small private fishing boats in the entrance I steered ‘Salara’ up the channel to anchor in a deep pool just below the town and almost under the flight path of aircraft using Faro airport.
I made contact with the boatyard and at high water three days later ‘Salara’ was met by the boatyard workboat which piloted her and another yacht up the shallow twisting channel to the hoist bay. The yard had two travel lifts working and as it was late in the day they left both ‘Salara’ and the other yacht in the slings overnight. The following morning both yachts were pressure washed, secured in steel cradles and fitted with webbing tiedowns fixed to eyebolts set in the concrete hard standing.
For me another sailing season has ended and after doing some maintenance work on ‘Salara’ all that remains is to return to UK.