Nearly out of the Bay of Biscay
We’ve covered a fair bit of ground in the past week, leaving the Basque country for the Costa Verde and now Galicia, but sadly it’s been all motoring and no sailing. There has generally been very little wind, and what there was has been against us. It has also been very misty, with visibility down to a mile or so. We passed a range of mountains 20 miles inland that are apparently snow-topped all year round but we couldn’t see them.
We spent a day in Santander, where we found ourselves in a ‘medieval festival’, with stallholders dressed for the Middle Ages, knights in shining armour on parade and goblins, fairies and hunchbacks wandering amongst the crowds.
We made the brief acquaintance of a blind sailor who, with the help of several crew, was returning from a cruise in Norway, which he pronounced ‘beautiful’. He was also making plans for an extended world cruise. Watching him negotiate the ladder on the quay and putting complete faith in his helpers’ hands gave a glimpse of the day-to-day struggles he must face. A very courageous and determined man.
We also decided to try out the local yacht club after reading in the pilot book that they were very welcoming to visiting yachtsmen. We were informed by the not-very-welcoming man on reception that it was members only. On learning that we were visiting yachtsmen, he reluctantly allowed us in for a drink but told us that no meals were available as the club closed at 10pm. Imagine our surprise to see the place full of diners later that evening when we returned from a very enjoyable meal we had eaten elsewhere…
After Santander, we called at Lastres, a fairly typical Galician village with houses built up the steep hillside around the fishing harbour. As in most ports, the entrance was well indicated by a cluster of small open fishing boats which kept disappearing in the swell. Inside, the whole length of the pierhead was taken up with rod and line fishermen, and we had to nudge our way in amongst them. Once they’d re-positioned themselves at either end of the boat, they settled in for the night and the murmur of voices above continued until at least 6am. Yet we’ve never seen anybody catch a single fish!
The next stop was the uninspiring commercial port of Aviles, and from there to the much prettier ría, Ribadeo. Here we met another English couple on a 60-foot converted trawler and joined up with them for the short trips to Burela and Cariño. I was tickled when we passed a large aluminium smelting plant belching out smoke and their little boy (aged 3) thought it was a cloud factory! It was quite nice to travel in company with a similar vessel and reassuring to see that they roll just as much as we do at sea…
We spent a day in Santander, where we found ourselves in a ‘medieval festival’, with stallholders dressed for the Middle Ages, knights in shining armour on parade and goblins, fairies and hunchbacks wandering amongst the crowds.
We made the brief acquaintance of a blind sailor who, with the help of several crew, was returning from a cruise in Norway, which he pronounced ‘beautiful’. He was also making plans for an extended world cruise. Watching him negotiate the ladder on the quay and putting complete faith in his helpers’ hands gave a glimpse of the day-to-day struggles he must face. A very courageous and determined man.
We also decided to try out the local yacht club after reading in the pilot book that they were very welcoming to visiting yachtsmen. We were informed by the not-very-welcoming man on reception that it was members only. On learning that we were visiting yachtsmen, he reluctantly allowed us in for a drink but told us that no meals were available as the club closed at 10pm. Imagine our surprise to see the place full of diners later that evening when we returned from a very enjoyable meal we had eaten elsewhere…
After Santander, we called at Lastres, a fairly typical Galician village with houses built up the steep hillside around the fishing harbour. As in most ports, the entrance was well indicated by a cluster of small open fishing boats which kept disappearing in the swell. Inside, the whole length of the pierhead was taken up with rod and line fishermen, and we had to nudge our way in amongst them. Once they’d re-positioned themselves at either end of the boat, they settled in for the night and the murmur of voices above continued until at least 6am. Yet we’ve never seen anybody catch a single fish!
The next stop was the uninspiring commercial port of Aviles, and from there to the much prettier ría, Ribadeo. Here we met another English couple on a 60-foot converted trawler and joined up with them for the short trips to Burela and Cariño. I was tickled when we passed a large aluminium smelting plant belching out smoke and their little boy (aged 3) thought it was a cloud factory! It was quite nice to travel in company with a similar vessel and reassuring to see that they roll just as much as we do at sea…
posted by Katie at 4:21 PM
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