Ria De Muros (2)

Saturday 13th September 2008

Woke up to find Mark & Amanda of Blush anchored across the bay from me, after a wave Mark came over for a chat and a cup of coffee. Luckily, Amanda is a dab hand with a sail needle and has some spares that should get me out of trouble with the damaged mainsail slider. I christen the dinghy and go ashore only to bump into Mark & Amanda again so we have lunch. I pay as gratitude for fixing my sail. There are some good ‘hardware stores’ here in Muros, but like an idiot I don’t have the specs of what I need with me – doh!

After paddling back to the boat, I fall asleep only to be woken up a short while later by the Blush crew armed with sail repair box. It’s not perfect but will get me out of trouble until I find a proper sail maker. Memo to self – Get some sail repair spares, a palm and needles.

Afterwards I play some guitar and generally relax and enjoy the sun. I have to say I am completely hooked on this anchoring lifestyle. I’m sure this will change when my anchor slips for the first time but until then, it’s so peaceful and there are very few other boats to hit, although as you know, I have already done that in Camarinas anchorage!

Not much else to report except that I won’t be going anywhere tomorrow either…

Ria De Muros

Friday 12th September 2008
I woke up at 0615 utc only to find it still dark and that’s just against my religion! Instead, 0815 saw me consuming honey toast and a cuppa before getting myself and the boat ready. Last usage of the marina facilities before noticing that I have about 0.5m under my keel, ordinarily fine but the large power boat that has now moored next to me to my right (between Peter and myself) mean I have to reverse out toward the shore to ensure the bows of Doris do not scrape a nice speed stripe down the front of the powerboat. Oh well, I’ll go and buy some straps for the dinghy before departing and the tied will come up a bit. I bump into Niels and say farewells, hoping to catch him down the line.

Finally Colin helps me slip my lines. I head out into wide open water to get in the fenders etc Funny, I am a fender short, I look all over the boat but no its gone – stolen?
I head around the breakwater to see white water at each side of the Ria entrance. Out come the binoculars. It’s barrelling!!! Overhead and barrelling, ordinarily I would be pleased to see such a sight, but not today. The forecast wasn’t promising either. Swell 5-6m decreasing to 2-3m. First decision is to turn around and drop anchor, but I edge closer.

The thing I have learned is that if you can see something, no matter how small it looks – its big! I see no waves in the centre channel and edge closer with the motor on and mainsail pulled in tight. I make it past the Ria entrance and desperately try to find deeper water. At 60m depth the waves are huge. Not breaking, but just steep and a little bit confused. They well up from nothing and roll toward you and everything in your body is screaming ‘sh*t!’.

From the cockpit perspective you measure the wave height against the spreaders and this alone seems insane! But they do not break, just pick you up and roll underneath you. The secret is to not give in to the urge to hammer the throttle forward because it looks like you will not make it over the top as this means you launch the boat into a huge drop the other side of the wave. By steering hard over at the crest you allow the wave to let you down slowly the other side.
Once again sailing is pointless as there is very little wind and the weight of the boom and canvas cause a gybe with every wave. Slowly I am getting used to waves, I still hate them but I am getting used to what can be negotiated ‘safely’.

I won’t bore you with the details, suffice it to say that for the next 4-5 hours I was a slave to the helm and aside from the odd visit from the dolphins, not really enjoying the trip at all. For some reason, maybe because I hate the noise of the engine I found myself singing. Mainly elvis songs at the top of my voice – after all no matter how bad it sounds, who’s gonna hear? Dolphins can’t speak – can they?

Now … the next few words come hard for me, because for those who know me well, I have a bit of reputation to retain. I am not sure what happened and can’t even begin to explain it – but here goes…

I must have sung myself into some euphoric state of mind, because my chain of thought started to wonder towards how lucky I am. About Kat my girlfriend, all my very good friends back at home (many of whom I hope are reading this), the boat and life in general. How things always seem to work out for the best despite the (sometimes dangerous) situations I constantly find myself in, etc, etc. I reached the conclusion that I should think about saying ‘thank you’ in some spiritualist manner to who/whatever it is that’s looking out for me. With a big fat fluffy solitary cloud in sight, I looked up said aloud and with conviction ‘thank you’.

The next few seconds I can’t explain. The boat took off and surfed down another huge swell but instead of coming to a wallowing stop as always, seemed to keep going. I had dolphins both sides jumping clear out of the water and then when the ride was over, complete calm. I was completely ‘freaked’ and then for some unknown reason, simply burst into tears! I have no idea why or over what. For the entire day I had not eaten or written any log entries due to the demands of helming and yet there I was sitting and writing Kat an SMS in some desperate effort to share the experience.

Maybe I am starting to lose my sanity, or I had heat stroke from being in the sun, or lack of food throughout the day? I have no clue, suffice it to say it was weird… When I return do not be surprised if I’m chanting and making offerings to the Gods etc…

The wind finally made an appearance late in the afternoon building from 15kn to over 25kn and I sailed down wind and surfed (10kn+) for hours on the mainsail alone, before entering Ria De Muros about 19:00 utc just as it started getting dark.

Breakage for the day, upon lowering the mainsail I noticed that the slider that is (was) attached to the headboard (fitted with the bat cars in Brighton) has ripped off – yet another thing to repair!

I entered the anchorage in darkness and found that what looked like an empty stretch of water actually had about six other yachts at anchor all without anchor lights.

Anchor down in about 6m of depth, I reversed until the chain was ‘bar tight’. Took a few bearings and with the offshore breeze at around 2kn made the best tasting cup of coffee I have had for a long time before passing out!

Dave from Brighton called me to let me know all the latest and greatest from the world of boating, it was good to hear a familiar voice.

Ria De Camarinas (4)

Thursday 11th September 2008
Last night the wind was horrendous and sounded like an SW F7 at least with pouring rain. I was glad to be tied to a pontoon rather than ‘on the hook’ as that would have made for a sleepless night. This morning the wind has swung 180 degrees and is looking a lot more favourable, however, the NavTex is saying swell from the NW to 4m. That’s pretty big and while I can cope with wind I am a chicken when it comes to waves.

I said goodbye to Mark & Amanda on Blush who set off heading for the next Ria south which will be my next stop also – Ria De Muros.

Peter (French) moored to my right has also offered to ‘wind me up’, so out came the old climbing harness and up the mast I went. The bulb was blown but in a place where any vibrations cause it to intermittently work. I put in a spare 25w bulb for now as it’s supposed to be only 10w. This will hit my power consumption at anchor but better than no light at all. I did try to hunt down the correct bulb throughout the day without any luck. Memo to all those people setting off on similar trips, LED lighting - expensive but worth it in my opinion, especially those that turn themselves off when its daylight!

With the anchor light ‘fixed’ it was now time to haul the dinghy out of storage. This thing weighs a ton! After an hour there she was, like a huge growth on Doris’ foredeck. It’s a bit of a nightmare as it makes visibility of the bows difficult but it needs to be out to be used. I then started trying to locate my surfboard straps to tie the thing down. After 2 hours of looking I gave up, I have looked in every foot of this 35ft vessel and I know they are here somewhere! Using some old sail ties, I get it semi secure and that will do for the night.

I have met two guys from Sweden (Henrik – who is returning to work tomorrow, and Niels – who has sold up and set sail). Niels is using HF radio for weather and email communications and his boat seems like a NASA control station compared to mine – although he does not have a liftraft or EIPRB. When the packet modem and radio fires up everything in the boat flashes due to the 30 amp consumption!

Niels is heading south (aren’t we all) and has to get his boom fixed which broke across Biscay. They had to get the power tools out at sea – very impressive! His repairs make mine look pathetic! Niels is also waiting for his girlfriend to come out in a few months time – notice a pattern here? It seems the ocean is full of males all waiting for their better halves to make an appearance!

Not much else to report today except that I should get going tomorrow or at least go back out to anchor…

Ria De Camarinas (3)

Wednesday 10th September 2008
I wake fully refreshed and make a cuppa. I can see ‘helpful matey’ Harry and his other German friend making ready to set off. Harry agrees to radio me regarding what the wind and swell are doing outside of the protection of the Ria. I wish him well as he passes me on his way. Wind F1-2 with 1.5m swell – not ideal!

With the anchorage looking now a bit empty I seem to stick out like a sore thumb all alone right in the centre of the anchorage. Through the binos I can see the outer hammerhead pontoon is now empty. The guidebook says its 4m of depth so no worries there, no wind whatsoever to make things tricky – let’s do this!

I set up the lines and fenders ready for a starboard side mooring, then I started the engine to get the anchor up (windlass – I’m posh). My anchor also bought up some old rope so I was lucky to not get fouled, although it wouldn’t have surprised me!

I ambled over to the pontoon and was just about to go ashore with the lines myself when an English speaking smiling face appears and offers to grab my guardrails as I pass him a line. All tied up no problem.

Senior quickly arrives announcing that I can’t stay here, so we explain that I simply want some fuel and will then get going. It turns out that fuel is available via pump - if I get closer. The English guy (aka Colin) offers to take my lines again as I move to a closer berth dictated by senior. Off we go again. Now, about that fuel – nope the pipe is not long enough – Jeez! Can I turn it around? Just give me a can of fuel!

I pay for two cans full and will come back for the second. With 40 litres now onboard the fuel gauge is saying full, well at least I now know that each bar must be ~22 litres, meaning that I must have had about 60 litres still in the tank. See I knew the problem would go away on its own!

Once all fuelled up I make a few last minute preparations including the rechecking the weather. Later S / SW F6 will be right on the nose and not very enjoyable. While I have been doing things around the boat another English couple (Mark & Amanda on Blush) have invited me to a coffee to discuss tactics and the weather. Sod it – I’ll stay here for a night, its only 14 euros anyway. I didn’t need much convincing and seeing that I’m moored up already it makes sense to stay put. I really should go back out to anchor to save money but I need to sort out the light.

First things first, everything electrical – laptop, toothbrush, razor, etc gets charged up. If I’m paying for a marina it’s getting juiced!

Secondly, I am going to annoy Senior again and get another can of fuel to keep onboard as a back up – it makes sense to have extra in reserve if I am going to be anchoring more often.

Then it’s off to the bar to try and suss out if there is any Internet access. A ‘cafe con leche’ later I am up to date with my own blog – thanks Crutey for posting on my behalf. I will upload pictures etc later as it’s not viable via Sat phone and I can’t get any of the wireless networks to let me have Internet access.

After restocking ‘nice sugary things’ at the supermarcado, I attack the lower shrouds. Yes I know that I have been told they are fine, but they were as loose as – well a loose thing in those 30kn winds the other day. One turn on each side and I promise not to touch the caps or intermediates! They certainly ‘feel’ better now.

Ok, the anchor light. While waiting for Colin to come over to ‘wind me up’, I decide to recheck the switches – it working! Great I won’t have to sweat my fat ass up the mast now. When Colin arrives I announce the good news and show him. Guess what – its not working. The wind is picking up and it’s starting to rain. Mannana mannana I guess.

I have noticed that the people are very friendly here, I have had offers of 3 bosons chairs, an ascender and plenty of ‘winders’ to help me fix the light in one afternoon.
*Kat - if you do make it to the Southampton boat show have a look for those ‘ladders’ you hoist up on the main halyard, its either that or have steps installed up the mast.

The weather is not looking good for tomorrow (thurs), but very promising for Friday onwards so I will probably stay put and get that dinghy out not to mention sorting out the anchor light. Also being asked if I was ‘on delivery’ probably means I should maximise on the marina shower facilities and have a shave.

One things for sure, I won’t be bored!

Ria De Camarinas (2)

Tuesday 9th September 2008
Upon waking up I knew immediately that I wouldn’t be going anywhere and could ‘relax’. The situation was that I had one of three green bars (before one amber and one red) on the fuel guage and really needed to get some fuel just incase caught out as this coast isn’t called the Costa Del Morte for nothing and the formidable Finister was only remaining hurdle before the sun really comes out – so they tell me.

For some reason I couldn’t relax for breakfast or even a cuppa until I had visually checked around the boat, and there they were… The bat cars I had fitted in Brighton to the mainsail before leaving the UK were broken. It is a good job I noticed this as the next time I would have raised the sail it may have torn and then I would be really without a paddle!

The sail battens are connected to the sliders that run up the mast groove by a ‘horseshoe’ shaped piece of metal with a retaining screw that screws through it and through the actual batten. Two of the four ‘horseshoes’ were completely bent out of shape with the screw being held in place by only one side and the plastic batten. Luckily no screws had been lost. I removed the two bent ones completely and got the tool bag out. After bending them back into shape I was able to refit them so no harm done, the remaining two were in place but loose and would have soon suffered the same fate as the other two just repaired. At some stage I will replace the screws with bolts and nyloc nuts just to be sure I think.

Finally, time for breakfast. Pondering the fuel situation I consulted the guide books. At Camarinas fuel is available but only in cans. I really do not want to try and get moored in this tiny marina on my own just to get fuel using my one and only can. My tank is 110 litres and my can 20 litres, I reckon I have less than a third left. I could get the dinghy out and then row ashore to get a can full but this is going to take a while and then its hassle trying to stow the dinghy on the foredeck and all for 20 litres that’s hardly going to make any difference. To be honest I’m just too lazy to do anything!

Meanwhile its nice and sunny and the wind dies off to nothing and the boat is drifting in circles with no chance of the anchor coming out, so I drop off to sleep. Maybe the problem will go away?

Throughout the day I continue to ‘ponder’ the fuel problem. It’s weird how your brain stops working when you are tired. My options…

1.> Get the dinghy out – It has to come out at some point anyway. Go ashore and get some fuel. I can arrange someone to take my lines and suss the marina out first hand from ashore if more fuel is still required.
2.> Radio the marina – Just get the boat over there and at least I will only have to carry the fuel can rather than row it in the dinghy.
3.> Set off regardless of being low on fuel – This is the most attractive scenario, pretend the problem does not exist. I can then get fuel at the next destination (Portisino - ~50nm). However, I know that the weather has to be guaranteed perfect for this and its not. The forecast for tomorrow is saying no wind at all (motor required) to start with then going to F6 (motor might be handy).

I’ll sleep on it…

I spent the afternoon planning routes and playing the guitar, I’ll get up early tomorrow morning and see how much wind there is and make a call on it.

During the afternoon helpful matey (who’s day I ruined previously) paddled over to say ‘hello’, we discussed weather and plans etc and he is looking to get going tomorrow morning. I did consider asking to borrow his dinghy seeing as it was already pumped up and wet, but decided this would be really taking the piss as mine is packed away nicely not more than 5 feet away.

Just as it starts to get dark I remember to put on the anchor light, only to find … It no longer works! Aaarrrgghhh!!!! … What else can go wrong!!!!

After playing around with the switches in the hope of a miracle, I resign myself that it’s busted. I decide to use the deck light as there is no way I’m climbing the mast in the dark.

Despite having a spotlight on me, I slept like a dead man. I am not sure if I knew that there was no wind at all and hence little risk of pulling the anchor out or if I didn’t care if it pulled or not and I run aground, either way – I slept!

Ria De Camarinas

I woke up still a little tired but keen to get going to Camarinas just over 20nm away. The sun was out and again very little wind. I raised the anchor and got the mainsail up within seconds only to be rewarded with almost zero wind once rounding the Laxe breakwater.

Once again on went the motor. I tried desperately to sail all day with no luck. In the distance I could see ominous looking clouds and the NavTex forcast had read. F3-4 with F6 locally. The F3-4 bit hadn’t materialised all day, hence the motor being on.

Literally within seconds the wind hit starting at 15kn gusting to 20kn, at least the motor could get turned off now I was steaming along with 1 reef in the mainsail. Slowly the wind began to climb, 20kn gusting 25kn, 2 reefs in the mainsail. Along with the wind, so did the seas with that horrible short steep chop that makes for vertical walls of water I have learned to hate with a vengeance.

Out of lazyness or habit or just inexperience I usually get the motor on when the seas get bigger with some mainsail for stability and this is what I did for a while before realising the waves were causing high fuel consumption. Hmn… time to conserve the fuel.

By sailing pretty close to the wind I found Doris would sail herself with 2 reefs in the mainsail and no headsail, gently jogging against the waves on her port bow. The ride was even quite comfy. I did throw a few ‘F’ words around while putting in the 2nd reef, the line became caught around the mainsail lazy bag batten (the side I couldn’t see) and I managed to tear a 12” long rip along the underside of the bag – crap!

I sat there watching the coastline dribble by at around 2.5kn thinking this is going to take ages. Also, to the angle of the waves I was 1.5nm of my course out to sea and when it came to my ‘left turn’ into Ria De Camerinas I simply couldn’t make any ground due to the waves on my beam. Nothing else to due but sail on past at a snails pace and then try again while running downwind with the waves further behind me as a ‘right turn’. This worked a treat and by now I was seeing gusts of 33kn and the sky was black as I entered the shelter of the Ria.

I sailed all the way into the anchorage behind Camarinas breakwater, rounded Doris up and dropped the mainsail like a polished pro. Then, while drifting in open water tidied up the cockpit and lines before getting the anchor already. Then on with the engine at the last moment to conserve fuel. Over we go, once around to scope it out, noticing I am struggling for depth in some areas, then pick the spot. I motion to a guy already anchored about depth and he announces he has 7m, perfect. Lots of room, down goes the hook. The wind starts blowing the bows off and I feed out the chain, all is going perfect until I notice that Doris is laying 90 degrees to the other boats and helpful matey is getting closer!

I don’t understand it what the hell … Then it occurs to me, he is using an anchor rope instead of chain and the water must be shallow enough that I have picked up his line with my rudder. Now the boats are laying side by side and I am apologising for being a complete idiot, while getting some fenders in place. So much for being the polished pro – more like the polished prat!

This isn’t a subject I really want to dwell on, suffice it to say that we used my broken spinnaker pole to clear the rope from my rudder. Once clear, I redropped anchor somewhat out of the way from everyone! Damage – none I can see (assuming the rudder is O.K.) and a wonky NavTex aerial which I straightened once settled.

With the wind still blowing its socks off, I was (again) more than a little worried about the holding power of the 10kg Delta anchor (30m x 8mm chain) and out came the handheld GPS. It hangs from the window above the bed so I can hear the alarm easily.

I am not sure whether I am slowly getting used to anchoring or tiredness was catching up, but I definitely slept a lot better. It was really nice to speak to Kat tonight after such a crappy day!

Ria De Corme / Laxe

Woke up and paid for my berthing before getting Brian to lend a hand slipping the lines at 0730 utc. By 0800 I had rounded the Coruna breakwater and already had the mainsail up. The first thing of note was that there was very little wind and a good size swell still running after the previous days bad weather.

All in all the wind was just strong enough to sail – if you had a flat ocean. Each time the the swell heeled the boat over the sails just tacked / flopped and then popped back with a bang when the wave had passed. This was one of those ‘man I’m sick of the sound of the engine days’. I motorsailed all the way, attemting every hour or so to sail sans motor without any luck.

My 37.74 (log) miles took me to my destination Laxe beach in Ria De Corme, very nice!
I dropped anchor in 5m of water over sand with no other boats within the anchorage with the wind blowing me gently offshore – perfect. Then out came the drink & sarnies, only to have the wind breeze from no fixed direction.

My first night at anchor was rather sleepless as I had to listen to the sound of the anchor chain being dragged across the sea bottom and I had visions of waking up aground on the beach!

My new found friend is my handheld Garmin GPS, or more specifically its anchor drag alarm. I set the distance threshold for 10m which did cause it go off every now and again due to my drift, but generally it was a nice comfort factor that allowed me to relax easier. I also set an alarm every 3hrs to check my position visually. Old sea dogs (if any read this) are probably laughing at all this and sleep soundly at anchor.