BAYONA TO GIBRALTAR

When I agreed to do this blogging extravaganza i never thought it would be as complicated as it has turned out to be - there is the need to co-ordinate the time out from the 'Jen can you come and hold this' jobs, housework (yes, I do do a bit of that too) internet access and a measure of brain power not completely zapped by the sun. So it has been a bit of a wait, but I hope quality makes up for the delay.
We are in Gibraltar now, the first internet stop since Bayona. To get here we had some great sailing, good winds and blues skies, some motoring when there was no wind but blue shies and some anchoring when there was no sunshine. The Atlantic has been kind to us so far, with a moderate swell that has been OK to cope with and have the brolly up - it copes with a breeze but tends to protest if there is much of a lurch on. Moderate lurch also means happy sailors who can make cups of tea and meals without being spread all over the galley. So here are the stops in order.

SINES
We left Bayona mid-morning by the time we motored out into the harbour and got the sails sorted and our act in gear, and set off for Sines, which was about 30 hours away. Had a lovely sail, the watch system worked well, Terry did the business, and we arrived outside Sines at the same time as a vast tanker. He was bigger than us so I decided to let him in first. Sines turned from a spot on the chart to quite a big harbour, with the place for little boats inside a second set of walls. In the outer harbour there were huge tankers and freighters looking to fill up on various goodies including Liquid Petroleum Gas (LPG). Some were moving about, some were anchored just outside, and in between it all were the never ending fishing boats of all sizes from the mini to the ocean going. None of the above appear to like yachts or even see them, far less acknowledge their existence.
However, once inside the small boat entrance the scene changed to a lovely beach in front of an old town.


There were loads of people on the beach, including school children being bussed down for their PE lessons - what a life! Every day the beach was cleaned by this tractor with a big rake and garbage collection system ready for the next day's arrivals. No shops selling beach balls or other such stuff, only an ice cream kiosk and a small coffee bar with some umbrellas. Wonderful. we ignored the marina, except to do the customs work, and Dave had a great time rowing across to put the sheets in the washing machine, then rowing back for me to hang them on the washing line at the back of the boat. We rowed ourselves onto the beach - they have a marked out channel for little dinghies and jet skies etc. There is a lone of yellow buoys along the beach to keep the swimmers in and the boats out. and the sand was so clean and white, and the water so blue. You can see the beach and Spirit at anchor.




The town was up the hill (groan) and very old, with not all that many shops but enough for most needs, and a lovely old church and castle walls that we could not get in to see. Dave went on a walk the next day by himself and took a picture of his mate Vasco da Gama - just about every street and shop had his name mentioned somehow.

The second night here was some sort of festival and there was the most incredible music floating across the bay - the first was a male voice singing what were obviously folk ballads to a guitar, and then much later a wonderful deep and rich female voice came across to us singing the most soulful and beautiful songs to a guitar and flute background. It was music that was very old - the key and time signatures were at times almost oriental, and in the setting of a moonlit night were haunting.But soon it was time to leave and continue out travels.

CAPE ST VINCENT

We sailed off from Sines a bit reluctantly as it was so nice there, but we had an appointment in Gibraltar to meet the steel man who is going to make our bimini frame so needs must. We were doing remarkably well in a freshening breeze and moderate swell when we noticed Terry was not behaving at all well. A good look showed us that Harriet's leg was a bit lop sided and we were reminded that we had snagged a fishing buoy on the way in to Sines. This had caught around the rudder and Harriet and had caused a little more damage than expected. So off with Terry, up with Harriet's leg and hand steer for us. This meant a bit of a re-think as the shift system was not going to work with hand steering as it is impossible to stay on the wheel for that length of time, so the plan was re-worked for a stay a bit closer than Cadiz, at Portimao. We were nearing St Vincent, scooshing along under twin heaqdsails, wonderful. Had to put the pikkies in to prove it had been done. Dave says this is the european cape, like Good Hope and Cape Horn (he has an imagination), but is still landmark for sailing to the Med.


The wind began to get up as we went by, and the day was nearing its end, so we decided to anchor off in one of the little bays just under St Vincent and made it in just in time as we now had over 35 knots of wind (lots to you landlubbers) but it became more manageable as pulled in neared a little beach full of yet more swimmers. Down anchor, up green sheet and tuck down for the night. Morning broke lovely and clear, and off we set for Cadiz as the wind was in the right direction and we felt we could manage the long day and night especially as we had sorted out Harriet's leg and we should be released from the wheel. Another wonderful day and night and Cadiz bay opened up for us in the morning, all five miles of it! It is huge. We went left and found an anchorage off a beach on the north side at Porto Sherry, a bit lumpy but OK for the day we thought. Till the night and the scend came in and it was just so uncomfortable, rolling around like nobody's business.
'Jen, why are you up at this hour of day?'
'We are moving'
'Why'
'Can't stand up'
'Oh'. Then 'Jen, you can't stand up'
'That's why we are moving Dave'
'Before breakfast?'
'Before breakfast.'
Hmmmmmm
So up anchor and around the corner where there is a little marina. Now I had rung them the night before and found out in my fractured Spanish that there was no room for us. But Dave, not to be thwarted, insisted on a look see as he believes all Spaniards say no just for the heck of it. Nice little motor up the river, but it turned out to be true - there was no room for us. About turn and across to Cadiz proper and the marina. And that is the next story.