Blue sky, a gentle 6kts on the nose gradually building, we crossed the bay – a beautiful start. By Tarifa we were banging into 22kts, a lumpy sea, and 4kts of foul tide! Progress was painfully slow. 18 miles and 4½ hrs later we finally rounded Tarifa Light.
The sun was shining, Cape Trafalgar slipped passed, and we made for the Algarve coast of Portugal, slipping in to Lagos with time for a brief run ashore.
Watching the weather plays a key part in the leg north ‘up’ the west side of Europe. Both the prevailing wind, and the prevailing currents are against you, and gales are frequent, but it was looking good for a dawn departure. 0630 saw us slipping quietly out of the harbour, turning west, and motoring for Ponta de Sagres, and Cabo Sao Vincente.
Rounding Cape St Vincent the weather always changes. We left the balmy comfort of the Mediterranean -style climate of the Algarve, an swopped it for that of the North Atlantic Ocean. Within twenty minutes the flat blue sea became a boiling turmoil of grey sea, the spray flying. Double reefed mainsail and staysail replaced full main and genoa. Foul weather gear replaced t-shirt and shorts. 30+kts blasted out of the east. On course, sailing at 8kts, we revelled in the conditions.
Progress was good. We gel as a team. Competition in the galley hots up.
As the High pressure system built the wind remained light. We pressed on hoping to make Lisbon, or perhaps even Nazare. Still the weather held. Finally we hove-to, drop sails, and slipped into Povoa de Varzim, a fishing port with white sand beaches stretching north and south as far as the eye can see.
Concrete apartment blocks surround the old town and stretch, like the sand, in both directions. In the harbour, a warm and friendly welcome, cheap berthing, and good facilities with high-tec security meant finger-print recognition at the marina, onto the pontoons, and even into the heads!! As for the welcome that awaits others, I wasn’t so sure! On the beach, in a square, surrounded by bars, cafes, and a pizza hut stood a ghoulish stage…...
The sun is shining, the breeze a little cooler. We pass Portugals only offshore ‘windfarm’, it’s single turbine turning slowly in the wind.
As the Rio Minho slips past abeam, down comes the red & green ensign of Portugal. Up goes the red and yellow of spain. Baiona, Finnistere, and Biscay are only days away.
