BAY OF BISCAY

After our calm trip around the Raz de Sein, we were hopeful of a gentle trip across Biscay. The forecast was winds F3-4, starting from the W and coming round NW, then NE, possibly fading away in the middle of the bay, then coming E as we neared land. Sounded perfect!

Before leaving, we made sure we had a good breakfast, did school, lashed everything possible on deck and below ‘just in case’. I even persuaded Dave to put out the lifelines, even though he assured us, “It’s not going to be rough!”

Off we went. The wind was light and a bit too tight for us to sail, so we put the sails up and kept the engine ticking over to help us along. The sky was a murky grey when we left. The coast of France disappeared behind us within 2 hours, and we were alone on the sea.

Well, not completely alone.  A little yellow/brown bird landed on deck for a few minutes then turned and flew off in the direction of a nearby ship. Gannets wheeled all around us, and we had an early visit from a pod of dolphins. The kids eagerly wrote a list of things we might spot – whales, dolphins, turtles, gannets, giant squid, mermaids… the list was pretty imaginative!

Katie & Reuben watching dolphins

After lunch, more and more patches of mist came over us, and visibility was down to a mile at times. The predicted 1.7m swell came rolling in from the west, making us feel a bit queasy, so Katie and I were trying to stay on deck in the fresh air. It was pretty cold and damp in the ‘mizzle’, so we huddled under a blanket with coats and hats on.
We were rewarded for our efforts by a group of dolphins that came and played around the bows for about 40 minutes. They did some spectacular jumps right out of the water, and there was a baby joining in too. That cheered us up no end, although we had to ditch the blanket to watch and our clothes were soaked through by the end!

Katie looking out with a mizzle cloud ahead

During the night, the wind came round as predicted, but still fairly light, so we carried on motor-sailing. We take turns to do 3-hour watches at night while the other sleeps, and we try not to wake each other unless absolutely necessary. The constant engine noise is good for the sleeper!

The sky finally cleared in the night, and the whole sea was lit up by the full moon overhead, almost like daylight. Bizarrely, after the dampness of the day, there was no condensation and all the deck hatches were dry to sit on. Both Katie and Reuben came up to do a bit of night watch with us.

The wind kept veering though, and the sails were losing their wind. We really needed to gybe but we couldn’t do it on our own – we have two sets of running backstays to change on a gybe – so ended up altering course more and more to starboard to keep the sails from banging.

Dawn came really slowly, the moon and stars still visible as the sky lightened. The kids were awake with me, and we took guesses on what time the sun would appear. Not until 8.30!

Full moon still visible as sky lightens

sun coming up behind us

By the time Dave came up, we were quite a way off course. Together, we gybed the main over and were able to get back on course, and finally turn the engine off. No more exhaust fumes!

The second afternoon was as good as it got. We had passed the halfway point, we were sailing well, the sun was shining, and the swell was dropping. We all sat out on deck listening to music and scanning the sea for wildlife. The Biscay is renowned for its whale sightings, but all we saw were five Portuguese men-of-war and one storm petrel. No whales. No dolphins L
Katie was still feeling poorly but she ate a few morsels of food and seemed happy watching Reuben doing his ‘training’ around the hatch. Every third lap, she tried to give him a prod, and every fifth lap, he got a high five!

We sailed well through the night, the speed increasing as the wind picked up – from an average speed of 4.5 knots, we were touching 6 knots. The rolling also increased, and I wondered, as I often do, if all sailing boats roll as much as ours? The shape of our hull is very round to hold as much fish as possible, and even amongst fishermen, it has a reputation for ‘rolling like a pig’. I think this is what makes us all feel so tired and seasick…

Cookers roll with the motion of the sea!

It was hard to sleep ‘off-watch’. The rolling takes not just your body back and forth across the bunk but your stomach sloshes from side to side inside your body. Not a nice feeling! The propeller free-spins while sailing and the quicker we sail the quicker it spins. The noise of it below was like a whirring windometer, and each time it speeds up, your brain starts thinking about how much the wind must have picked up. Eventually, you drift off to sleep, only to get woken what seems like 5 minutes later to do your watch. Climbing out of that warm, cosy bed for the umpteenth time was starting to feel like ‘Groundhog Day’.

Katie's matted hair after a night of rolling in her bunk!

By morning, the wind increased to a steady Force 5. Our speed hit seven, then eight knots. One wave slapped us hard and threw water right over the deck and in through the open deck-hatch porthole. It got so rolly that water sloshed out of the toilet bowl. We have never had this happen before, not even on the Atlantic crossing!

Sailing well

Reaching amazing speeds -for us!

The forecast we had seen showed stronger winds around the coast near la Coruna on Friday, gusting to 25 knots, but dropping to nothing on Saturday. Perhaps these stronger winds were going to last a bit longer than expected?

Poor Katie. She came up hoping to find that the sea had miraculously calmed down as predicted, but instead it had picked up and there was white water everywhere. She sat wrapped in a blanket looking rather pale until she finally threw up.

Katie feeling the motion

Dave emerged from his bunk early because he was worried about the jib still being out. He clipped himself on at the bows and started hanking on the staysail when a big wave sent spray right over his head. That’s one way to wake up! We soon got the staysail up and rolled the jib in – much safer.

We all got a boost when the hazy coastline of Spain appeared in the distance, but we still had 35 miles to go. Because of our fast speeds, at least we would arrive in the late afternoon as opposed to around midnight as expected. I could see Katie’s eyes keep flicking to the clock, trying to speed the time up!

We had a close encounter with a ship as we came closer in. I could see it on our AIS screen coming from our starboard, and it was going to pass very close, within 0.1 of a mile. I radioed the ship and the captain said he was going to pass in front of us. He got closer and closer until he was only 3 miles away and still he was on a collision course. I radioed again and offered to alter course to starboard, but he assured me he would alter course and pass ahead. At this point, it would have been just as easy - not to mention safer - for him to alter course to pass behind us.

However, he did alter course to starboard, but as our speed kept accelerating in the wind, the predicted distance between us kept getting smaller. It was nail-biting watching him get closer and closer and still not cross our bows. Eventually, I altered course ten degrees to starboard just in case, and we passed safely behind him.

Close encounter with a ship off Coruna

From this point on, the wind got stronger and stronger. Soon it was a steady force 6, with spray over the deck, and the downwind decks often awash with water. We had to take the mizzen down because the boat kept turning into the wind and going broadside to the waves. Reuben wanted to see the waves so Dave tethered the two of them together and they went out on deck. Reuben was enjoying the fresh air and dodging the spray until one decided to break right over him!

Reuben wave-watching

Then we were all back in the wheelhouse, watching as the wind and waves continued to pick up. I clocked gusts of 35 knots on our hand-held windometer before it got too wet to go out. Soon, it must have reached F7-8. The whole sea was white, with green, breaking waves. The wind was absolutely howling, blowing spray across the deck and off the tops of the waves. Water constantly poured over the decks, and even found its way up underneath the (closed) wheelhouse door.

getting rougher

strong winds off Coruna

The boat still kept turning to windward so Dave ended up firing the engine to keep us on course, but even he was struggling to control the rudder. Eventually, after a long, stressful couple of hours, we got some shelter from the headland, and the sea became more manageable as we got closer into shore. As we turned the corner into Ares bay, the waves suddenly died and the sea became miraculously calm.

Bizarrely, there was almost no wind at all in the bay, it felt like we had dreamt it all! By the time we reached the anchorage, we had washed the salt from every surface, and were feeling human again. The little town of Ares was buzzing with life. At 6pm it was still hot and we could hear children laughing and splashing in the sea! We launched the dinghy as quickly as possible and went ashore to dry land, and a celebratory beer. It was fantastic to see Katie wolf down a plate of food when we went ashore!

Katie relieved to arrive 

Anchored in Ares

So all in all it wasn’t the worst trip ever, just incredibly tiring. The weather was OK for the first two days, but we just didn’t seem to stop rolling. Maybe the extra weight of our new topmast has a role in this?
The last morning was rough by anybody’s standards. Maybe we are just getting too old for this sailing malarkey?!

The kids did brilliantly. Reuben acted as though everything was normal, and was happy drawing his comic strip on the last morning, although he did fall asleep when it got really rough. He provided welcome entertainment for us all – enjoying building cushion towers then falling off them in the waves!

Reuben on his cushion tower

Katie felt dreadful for pretty much the whole trip. It is really hard knowing your child is suffering and being unable to help. I think the lowest point for me was on the third morning when Katie announced, “I think I’ll die before we get to Spain!” I am happy to announce that she didn’t and has since made a full recovery!

Here’s a little video clip to give you a taste of our Biscay!