A sense of foreboding followed us down the Atlantic Coast after we passed the Coast of Death (Costa del Mort). It was still early May and the weather in the Atlantic Ocean is notoriously fickle and changes quickly throughout the day. To minimise getting caught out in really bad weather, we quickly sailed down the coast of Spain. The weather, coupled with the fact that my time in the EU (specifically the Schengen area) was limited due to my Australian passport and Schengen visa. So, we were keen to spend our limited time in the EU in the warmth of the Balearic Islands.
The Atlantic was true to form. it was cold with prevailing high afternoon winds and unsettled seas state which added to our determination to push on.
We determinedly travelled long days (covering 70 – 100+ nautical Miles), until we really needed some rest, reprovisioning or refuelling. We found few suitable, easy access anchorages and so sheltered in boat/fishing harbours where possible or stayed in the occasional marina. Many anchorages down this coast involved bar crossings into rivers. While we’re used to doing these in Australia, the weather and high tides, pushed us on. The one port, I’m sorry we missed was Porto, Portugal.
Late one evening after a long day of gusty winds, the port in Adra we had planned to anchor in was smaller than anticipated and badly affected by swell. We made the decision to attempt a sketchy entry into the nearby marina; in fact, we pretty much surfed in. We found a hammerhead pontoon and managed to dock the boat in the gusty conditions. As I jumped off onto the small, dodgy pontoon, I found it was unstable, dropped to my hands and knees and tied up the stern. As I crawled to the front, a Marinaro was yelling and waving as I completed the bow tie off. As he came to help and in the midst of the confusion of placing fenders and moving around the narrow pontoon, I half fell off the dock on to my ribs on a metal strut. Ouch. No serious damaged but I certainly was shellshocked for a couple of days.
On the same day, fellow Helia44 owners we met in La Rochelle, who were travelling close by, continued sailing that night and ended up with a wave in their saloon. I’m pleased we made the decision to take shelter.
You can see the route we travelled and where we stopped here.
It wasn’t until we reached Lisbon that we finally relaxed, stayed for a few days and enjoyed this vibrant city. More about that in a later post.