"Qui écute trop la météo reste au bistrot!"
We finally left Falmouth on Saturday the 6th of May at the tail end of an easterly gale in the English Channel. From midday, the wind decreased as predicted, but the visibility remained poor and the sea state moderate. We were embarking towards the Bay of Biscay. Would our crossing be a smooth one, or were we going to encounter a rough ride like in 1999 when we experienced a full blown severe gale? This is something that kept creeping into my consciousness whenever we switched on the computer to follow the weather on 'Predictwind'.
This wonderful picture was taken from Pendennis Point by our relative Lesley Harry with whom, together with her partner Tim, we enjoyed some lovely moments in Falmouth.
We expected two days of calm weather. After that a trough associated with the extensive low pressure system out in the North Atlantic (according to all the weather predictions) would bring easterlies F4-5 (occ.6). So far, so good!
The first night and the following day were very smooth. The wind hardly exceeded 11knots from the east. We were reaching. How much better could we expect?
We even had lots of entertainment with some starlings (I am not a big bird expert, but it looked like a fatter swallow with a forked tail, any ideas?). They kept flying around our boat, and one of them was particularly insistent wanting to fly into our boat. As long as I was standing in the companionway it didn't quite dare, but as soon as I moved to the side, it flew inside even with the top hatch closed. It flew in
and out around 10 times and finally decided to stay overnight. It didn't mind that we were walking about, cooking, talking, getting into our sea-cot. It made me feel so happy to have this stowaway on board! Little did we know that it was probably exhausted or ill and that it would have died over night.
The wind started to increase at dusk on the 7th. It blew between 13-20kn during the whole starry night. It was a perfect sail, reaching across the sea at 6/7kn. During the night we were marvelling at our new navigation system. The AIS (automatic identification system) of ships and the radar are combined. We never had such a sophistication before. That really takes away some of the anxiety of approaching vessels at night.
The wind started to increase on Monday (7th) in te morning. We had cleared the continental shelf and the wind from the east clashed with the Atlantic swell coming from the west and created a rough and confused pattern of waves.
When it was my watch early in the morning on the 8th, I got up from my sea-cot with a splitting headache and... I was sick!
Stephan asked me to help with the reefing, but I was absolutely useless. We had a problem with our second reefing line - it had been replaced by the rigger in Falmouth, but it was to stiff and too thick to do the job well. We hove to until I recovered a bit and we put all three reefs in.
The sea sickness lasted for half a day or so. Just as well because the wind got steadily up until it reached gale force wind at midnight on Tuesday.
Our thoughts at that time were that we had been there before in 1999 (we even used the same chart on this crossing) and although we tried to avoid a repeat by being super prudent following the weather patterns, we were getting close to it. ("Predictions are very difficult to make, especially about tyhe future" (Y. Bera). We also knew that we would be able to manage somehow... The waves were phenomenal, beautiful in their own right. Some crests hit and flooded our cockpit, sometimes our toe rails were under water (once even close to the coach roof). We were only 60NM off the coast of Spain. Not far to go any more.
Suddenly, towards the end of the afternoon on Tuesday (10th) the wind dropped quite abruptly. It was as if someone had turned the switch off! From gale force wind to flat calm in one hour. By then we were approaching Cap Finisterre and the Traffic Separation Scheme and we needed to be very alert to the shipping travelling between Cap Finisterre and Ushant. It was quite a surprise when we heard a strange voice, as if hallucinating: "Easy Rider, Easy Rider, this is..." Was someone really trying to get in touch with us in the middle of the sea?
In fact, it was a big tanker quite close (4NM) trying to agree whether we would pass port to port or starboard to starboard. Now that we have AIS, we and other ships can be in touch directly! How wonderful is that?
We cleared Cap Finisterre by early morning. The calm was just a blip. The wind veered suddenly to the south and strengthened to the point that we were stopped in our tracks. After having crossed the Bay of Biscay at an average speed of 6kn, I even thought that we had caught a fishing net in our propeller! There was no point trying to beat against the wind for the last remaining 20 miles or so to Muros, south of Cap Finisterre. We looked to find a closer harbour just north of the cape and landed after almost 500 NM at Camariñas, one of the beautiful small fishing villages in the Rías Bajas in Galicia.
We moored at around 10am and fell into our bunk. Just as we had fallen into deep sleep, the Border Control came knocking on our coach roof wanting to see our passports and ship's papers. They must have had a good giggle when they left, because we both looked so spaced out like two zombies!
I haven't seen much of Camariñas yet. We cleaned the boat, slept for 12 hours and the first thing this morning was to write this blog. The southerly gale persists, so we will have to wait for a couple of days before we will be able to continue.
 |
| Leaving Falmouth (Lesley Harry) |
We expected two days of calm weather. After that a trough associated with the extensive low pressure system out in the North Atlantic (according to all the weather predictions) would bring easterlies F4-5 (occ.6). So far, so good!
 |
| Flat calm in the Bay of Biscay |
The first night and the following day were very smooth. The wind hardly exceeded 11knots from the east. We were reaching. How much better could we expect?
We even had lots of entertainment with some starlings (I am not a big bird expert, but it looked like a fatter swallow with a forked tail, any ideas?). They kept flying around our boat, and one of them was particularly insistent wanting to fly into our boat. As long as I was standing in the companionway it didn't quite dare, but as soon as I moved to the side, it flew inside even with the top hatch closed. It flew in
 |
| Welcome stowaway (...for some) |
and out around 10 times and finally decided to stay overnight. It didn't mind that we were walking about, cooking, talking, getting into our sea-cot. It made me feel so happy to have this stowaway on board! Little did we know that it was probably exhausted or ill and that it would have died over night.
The wind started to increase at dusk on the 7th. It blew between 13-20kn during the whole starry night. It was a perfect sail, reaching across the sea at 6/7kn. During the night we were marvelling at our new navigation system. The AIS (automatic identification system) of ships and the radar are combined. We never had such a sophistication before. That really takes away some of the anxiety of approaching vessels at night.
The wind started to increase on Monday (7th) in te morning. We had cleared the continental shelf and the wind from the east clashed with the Atlantic swell coming from the west and created a rough and confused pattern of waves.
When it was my watch early in the morning on the 8th, I got up from my sea-cot with a splitting headache and... I was sick!
 |
| sea-sick at the helm |
The sea sickness lasted for half a day or so. Just as well because the wind got steadily up until it reached gale force wind at midnight on Tuesday.
 |
| 35 to 40kn in the Bay of Biscay |
Our thoughts at that time were that we had been there before in 1999 (we even used the same chart on this crossing) and although we tried to avoid a repeat by being super prudent following the weather patterns, we were getting close to it. ("Predictions are very difficult to make, especially about tyhe future" (Y. Bera). We also knew that we would be able to manage somehow... The waves were phenomenal, beautiful in their own right. Some crests hit and flooded our cockpit, sometimes our toe rails were under water (once even close to the coach roof). We were only 60NM off the coast of Spain. Not far to go any more.
Suddenly, towards the end of the afternoon on Tuesday (10th) the wind dropped quite abruptly. It was as if someone had turned the switch off! From gale force wind to flat calm in one hour. By then we were approaching Cap Finisterre and the Traffic Separation Scheme and we needed to be very alert to the shipping travelling between Cap Finisterre and Ushant. It was quite a surprise when we heard a strange voice, as if hallucinating: "Easy Rider, Easy Rider, this is..." Was someone really trying to get in touch with us in the middle of the sea?
In fact, it was a big tanker quite close (4NM) trying to agree whether we would pass port to port or starboard to starboard. Now that we have AIS, we and other ships can be in touch directly! How wonderful is that?
We cleared Cap Finisterre by early morning. The calm was just a blip. The wind veered suddenly to the south and strengthened to the point that we were stopped in our tracks. After having crossed the Bay of Biscay at an average speed of 6kn, I even thought that we had caught a fishing net in our propeller! There was no point trying to beat against the wind for the last remaining 20 miles or so to Muros, south of Cap Finisterre. We looked to find a closer harbour just north of the cape and landed after almost 500 NM at Camariñas, one of the beautiful small fishing villages in the Rías Bajas in Galicia.
We moored at around 10am and fell into our bunk. Just as we had fallen into deep sleep, the Border Control came knocking on our coach roof wanting to see our passports and ship's papers. They must have had a good giggle when they left, because we both looked so spaced out like two zombies!
I haven't seen much of Camariñas yet. We cleaned the boat, slept for 12 hours and the first thing this morning was to write this blog. The southerly gale persists, so we will have to wait for a couple of days before we will be able to continue.
 |
| Camariñas |