The One that got Away.......

Fishing is big all down this coast. Leaving Baiona the sea was glassy-flat. Engine on, we motored our way towards the border. Pot-markers littered the sea turning it into a slalom course. From the cliffs a fishing boat sped out turning at the last moment to pass, not across our wake but our bows. As he passed lobster-pots tumbled from his transom. Two boat lengths ahead of us he zig-zagged across our bow miles of floating line running from his stern. The result was inevitable. The underwater winch (propeller) wound the line tightly round the shaft. the engine stopped. We were caught.

Meet the Locals!



They thought it a great game. Graham donned his dive gear, bread knife in hand, and we were free. Thankfully no damage done.

No trip down the west coast of Portugal is complete without a stop at Nazare. A quaint old town with its bullring sits atop of the cliffs, narrow streets of little family run restaurants hide behind the sandy beach where freshly caught sardines air-dry on the racks, before being sold, by the old fisher-folk still in their traditional dress, to passers-by.


Nazare hit the headlines in the world press on 30th January 2013, when a surfer rode the biggest wave in the world. Now it’s a mecca for surfers. Its long sandy beaches stretch for miles. Beach fishing is difficult as the waves, even on a calm day, are big enough to surf, and crash noisily on the sand. Rock fishing is, however, popular – even from the top of the cliffs!

It was a good feeling to round Cape St Vincent. The weather changed instantly. Head winds became tail winds, the sky became a mass of stars. Now, a new challenge – tuna nets! Tuna nets are on, or near the surface. Perpendicular to the shore, and can be a mile or so long, and they are guarded fiercely.

The multi-coloured cliffs, sandy beaches, and Mediterranean climate of the Algarve attract the tourists, and the harbours are buzzing. Busy bars, great seafood, and a great mix of nationalities guarantees a great party atmosphere; and the party goes on well into the night.

The friendliness of the locals is great. Whilst in Vilamoura, and short of propane gas, I went in search. Quite randomly, I asked in a kiosk that was advertising sailing, and trips to see the caves. The owner was so helpful. He gave up explaining, got out his car, and drove me, and the empty gas tanks, the twenty miles to the only garage able to fill them, then brought me back to the boat. Invited onboard, he carried one tank as we chatted, and payment – my round next time we met, he insisted.
Portugal to the left – Spain to the right

The Rio Guardiana marks the end of Portugals 500 miles of coastline. Entering the river was like entering Chichester Harbour, keep to the port hand marks for deeper water, kitesurfers on the east side sandbanks. We headed for the Spanish marina of Ayamonte and its pretty old town. The Habas con Choco was delicious (broad beans and cuttlefish)!


The one that didn’t get away