To the Immortal Memory

More sea trials took us back to Cadiz, a vibrant city, full of life. Spanish, German, and American voices on the VHF alerted us to naval ‘goings-on’ as we sailed through the night. An hour before dawn we changed the watch. Graham caught some zzzz’s, and I watched the lights of Cadiz. Windfarms surrounding the bay made spotting navigation light a joke. Each turbine was lit with a flashing white light, cranes and buildings added to the fun with both fixed, and flashing, red lights. The shore-lights just added more colour.

As I searched for the leading lights that would take us safely in I became aware of a gap in the lights – it was moving. Then another, and another. I slowed Avocette down, and watched as, in line astern, a NATO squadron of naval ships returning from their exercise, crossed ahead of us – not a single navigation light showing on any of them!

I used to see sights such as this as the Royal Navy sailed in and out of Portsmouth. Now I have to go to Cadiz. What would Nelson have made of it?

So onto Barbate, its brand new marina, empty, and the town much the same, but they did do a good line in anchors!



We slipped out, sailed around Tarifa,the southernmost tip of Europe to port, Africa to starboard, and back into Gibraltar.



Next stop – the Mediterranian.

Ilha da Culatra

The harbour at Faro is reminiscent of Chichester Harbour, and we wanted to explore it, and the old town of Olhao. At the entance, the flood tide ran swift and powerful. Big whirlpools, and cross currents added to the excitement, then we were in. Quiet and calm returned, and we drop anchor, just off the village on the Ilha da Culatra.



The harbour is large. Withies, assorted flags, buoys, and fishing floats, mark the safe channels through the mud flats, fish-traps, and trammel nets. Local boat-boys zoom around ferrying the days catch to market, out to Culatra, or into the old town of Olhao, with It’s classic Portuguese buildings, and cobbled streets hinting at a distant prosperity, and its Roman and Moorish ancestry.

Back across the harbour, life is still tough. The men fish, the women manage the shellfish nurseries.



It was only in the late sixties and seventies, that an effort was made to support the community on the Ilha da Culatra, and water, electricity, and sewerage systems were installed. The single story houses are built on the sand. There are no roads, no cars or bikes – just a few tractors to relieve the fishermen of some of the heavy tasks, and outboards to power the boats.

Algares = Potholes in Sandstone Cliffs

Our return to Lagos proved a good move. Contacts in the Ocean Cruising Club quickly led me to the right man to sort out the chartplotters. Slowly and methodically they were brought back to life. Now they needed testing. We had to go sailing. We tried them under sail, under engine. We tried them with the radar on, and off. All seemed good. As a reward we popped into Portimao, and dropped the hook.



The river is big enough for small cruise liners to visit, and most of their passengers stay in Portimao, or visit the long sandy beach at Praia de Rocha. We headed for the sleepy east bank, to Ferragudo.



With the fishermen’s blessing we tied the dinghy at the side of the slip, between their boats, and stood watching, fascinated as they mended their nets on the quay, before meandering up the narrow cobbled backstreets to the church, then on along the cliff tops. As the sun slowly dipped the sandstone cliffs shone gold, amber, and ruby red. Surfers caught the rolling surf, and we caught a sundowner at the bar on the beach, our toes nestling in the warm sand.



More sea-trials followed. All works well –such a relief.

Blind Navigation

The crossing from Morocco back to Gibraltar had been a challenge. Thick fog obscured the very busy shipping lanes that we were crossing. The forecast 15kt wind decided to be 18-20+kts. This pushed the sea into a confused wind against tide, and the waves just grew bigger. To add to the difficulties the Raymarine chartplotter and radar, in the cockpit, decided to choose that moment to pack-up.
Back in Gib, no help was found, but with the main plotter at the chart table working OK, we set off for Madeira.

Again the weather gods had us in their sites. Blue sky, sunshine, a perfect NE 10knots sent us on our way. Six miles later it was blowing 18kts – great sailing!

By the time we reached Tarifa, ten miles further on, the wind and seas had built. Now it was no main, and no jib – just a small staysail. We surfed the 4m waves at over 9kts in 38kts of wind, and darkness was approaching.

The winds eased a little, so did the sea. Talking to other yachts spread from Gib to Tenerife, to Madeira on the long range radio (SSB), we heard that everyone was enjoying fast sailing. The good news was; the further west you got, the more the wind and seas dropped.

Two days later, nearly half way to Madeira, the chartplotters’ threw all their toys out of the pram. No longer would they maintain their displays. The choices: Return to Gib 200 miles up wind? Carry on out into the Atlantic for Madeira, another 250 miles down wind? Tack for the Algarve 120 miles across the wind to the north? I tacked.

Twenty-four hours later, just as dawn broke, we entered the river at Portimao. Anchor down, head down, and a good sleep.



The anchorage was pretty, and very secure. Golden cliffs and sandy beaches surrounded us. And the sun shone. In town, the high-rise blocks encircled the old town with its quaint little parks. It was a pleasure to while away the minutes sitting on tiled seating, to enjoy the flower beds, the mosaic pavement, and the sun-drenched trees wrapped in crocheted artwork.



Always a trading port from early Phoenician, then Roman times, Portimao again came to prominence in the early days of the slave-trade, then later, building perhaps the largest sardine fishing and canning industry in Portugal. Now its tourism.



Back on the boat, enquiries had revealed that repairs were possible here, but not speaking Portuguese was a handicap, so we sailed across the bay to Lagos. Contacts in the Ocean Cruising Club soon unearthed some help. So now we wait, fingers crossed, that all will be repaired, and we can resume our travels.



Today it rained!