I woke up to the engine still going and a rather wet morning, but by the time we were approaching the Douro River the sun was beating down. At one point the wind had swung round 20 degrees off the bow but it settled on a NNW3. Back on the nose.
Peter and I took some time out with Lee who sat down and explained the principles of sail setting, reefing, centre of gravity and so on. A lot to take in but I felt like I’d moved one step closer to gaining enough confidence to sail on my own. I was still a long way off though. Both Lee and Kevin were great at explaining sailing principles. This was, after all, the reason why I was on this trip.
The views of the Portuguese coast were unusually clear. The west coast is notorious for poor visibility and fog. The last few miles, however, were spent with the wind on the nose in a force 5-6, with the bow jumping around and watches spent concentrating on avoiding lobster pots. We approached Bayona on the Spanish border late at night. As soon as we hit the port Lee and I spent half an hour tracking down cigarettes and beer and were surprised to find nowhere open. It was 3am though!
We spent the next day patrolling the streets of Bayona which, compared to my last visit in August last year, was dead. I’d spent the whole night telling Lee what a great place it was and how it was a bustling holiday town, but there was no one to be seen bar the odd old lady here and there. On top of this the weather forecast was not looking good, with a low giving northerlies and providing no opportunity to nip into and around Finistere. Instead we bought clothes, ate tapas, drank beer and played Spanish Trivial Persuit.
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