Curare's Adventures

A glimpse of our year 2019

Merry Christmas and a Festive Holiday season to all.

2019 passed us by very quickly and followed a similar pattern for us as previous years in that we spent a portion of our year sailing on Curare and a portion of our year on Canada's west coast.

Both Geoff and Linda stayed in Canada for the winter and kept busy with volunteer opportunities (Linda at the Vancouver Aquarium and also with the Invasive weed removal team in Stanley Park, and Geoff at the Gabriola Volunteer Fire department). In February Geoff put his recently completed Gabriola house on the market and since that time he has had a constant stream of people passing through admiring the quality of workmanship and the view, but as we write this the perfect new owner has not yet come by.

To liven things up a bit Geoff accepted an eight week geology job in Saskatchewan from the end of January into March and when it was finished he was able to say he had survived the coldest winter on record, with several weeks below -40 C. Linda joined him for two weeks to see what all the fuss was about but almost as soon as she got there the temperature rose to a balmy -20 C. Although it was extremely cold being able to do some geology work again was satisfying.

While Geoff was away Linda started working on the summer sailing itinerary. Despite what all of our friends and acquaintances think, this constant moving on and off of Curare takes a lot of strategic planning; there are parts to order, food items to purchase, charts to acquire, clothes to pack, and marinas to investigate. Thank goodness for the internet - it makes it so much easier than it was in the early 1990's (when Linda first went offshore) but it still takes a lot of time. By the time Geoff arrived home most things had been finalized for the coming cruising season.

In mid-May we packed three enormous bags full of boat parts and flew back to Curare - waiting for us in Sweden. But since we were flying through Iceland we decided we should stop there to look at some geology. We rented a car and spent 10 days driving the circle route trying to see as much as we possibly could. Everything we had read about Iceland was true: stunning scenery, wild landscapes, glaciers, birds, volcanoes, a rugged coastline and super expensive. Perhaps our favourite geological thing was standing on the mid-Atlantic ridge with one foot in North American and the other in Europe. How often do you get to do that?

Once back to Curare we spent less than one week getting her ready and provisioned for the summer; we were back in the Schengen countries and the 90 day clock had started ticking. The first part of our cruise was in June and took us south down the east coast of Sweden, then west along Sweden's low lying south coast before turning north again and sailing to Denmark! We made landfall in Helsingør, the location of Hamlet's castle, and spent a wonderful three days enjoying the people, sights, food and beer. From Denmark we crossed the Kattegat to Sweden, and ended up spending mid-summers day on the Island of Gullholmen; celebrated with music, dancing around the Maypole, folk costumes, strawberries with whip cream, schnapps and bonfires.

From Sweden we sailed overnight to the west coast of Norway, passing by Oslo and the southern coast. Our first port of call was a very small place named Hellvik where we stayed for almost five days waiting for weather. Waiting for weather and foggy days was an all too common occurrence in Sweden and Norway, there was either no wind, but then there was fog, or there was too much wind from the north, the direction we wanted to go. Our next stop was Tananger where Curare stayed 10 days in a marina so that Linda could go to Estonia to attend the 150th Estonian Song Festival, and Geoff rented a motorbike and went hurtling around the twisty Norwegian fjords. Both once-in-a-lifetime events, both unforgettable experiences.

Leaving Norway we headed west, across the North Sea to the Shetland Islands. We anchored at the most northern island of Unst and immediately went to the western cliffs on a puffin hunt. LE had been longing to see a puffin since first arriving in the North Atlantic in the summer of 2016 and she wasn't disappointed; there were enough puffins, gannets, guillemots and fulmars to make a lifetime of memories. Leaving Unst we sailed north of Muckle Flugga and Out Stack, the most northern points of the British Islands and a "furthest north" for Curare at 60°51.326'N; 000°53.146'W. After this it was all "downhill", heading south, back to warmer climates. Although the scenery was impressive and we have no regrets about travelling in the northern countries, a summer of wearing long underwear just did not seem like summer at all.

We spent about two and a half weeks in the Shetland Islands and all of it was beautiful. It is a harsh environment with strong winds and cold temperatures which means few trees, but Linda is not fond of trees so for her it was a wonderful place. Our first stop, after leaving Shetland, was Fair Isle. If anything, this small island (4.8 km by 2.4 km) was even more spectacular than Shetland, and we had thought that was magical. While on Fair Isle looking for puffins Linda was attacked by an arctic skua - very funny to observe from afar but quite frightening when she felt it's wingtips brushing her ear. According to Geoff, Linda screeched louder than the skua.

We left Fair Isle in the fog for an overnight passage to Inverness, Scotland. Other than the fog this passage was uneventful and we arrived to sunny skies. Curare and her crew were in Inverness in 2017 on our way to the Baltic, but we had decided to go through the Caledonian canal once again, a short cut to the Irish Sea, rather than travelling south down the east coast of England in the North sea. Upon exiting the Caledonian canal we retraced some of our steps, stopping on the Isle of Islay to enjoy a few other whiskey tours and then in Ballycastle, Northern Ireland to visit the island of Rathlin (by ferry), but from thence onward it was a different trip with new destinations.

Our next port of call was Peel on the Isle of Man. We had not idea, not a clue, but we arrived at the start of the Classic TT races. To use a British expression Geoff was "gobsmacked". There were hundreds of vintage motorcycles driving around, and parked on, the roadways of Peel and riders in leather were sitting outside all of the pubs. Linda was not as enthusiastic as Geoff about seeing a bunch of noisy bikes roaring around the main roads but she did go to one race - Geoff went to three. The "race track" is the public road that circles the Island and there are many places to view the bikes hurtling past, amazing when you see them in real time, they go past so quickly.

From Isle of Man we sailed/motored overnight to Wales and made landfall in the waterway of Milford Haven which has a significant nautical history. We spent about one week here, first at anchor in Dale Bay and then later, at a marina in the town of Milford Haven. While at anchor we walked on two of the many Pembrokeshire Pathways enjoying the photographic scenery, geology and bird-life and from the marina we took a train to Swansea to have a look at a city from Geoff's ancestral past.

Then it was another overnight sail to the Isles of Scilly. These islands are located off of the southwest end of England and are designated as an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty. They certainly are, with clear blue-green waters, palm trees, succulents, rare birds, historical forts, interesting granite formations and many walking trails. One of the islands, St Agnes, is the most southerly point in the United Kingdom and it was here that Curare dropped her anchor. This anchorage meant that in one season Curare had been to the most northern and southern points of the British Isles; Muckle Flugga and St. Agnes respectively. She took it all in stride, just another adventure for a well built yacht.

We waited in the Isles of Scilly for a period of settled weather and then set off across the notorious Bay of Biscay towards Spain, leaving the British Isles on September 7, 2019. Three days later we arrived in A Coruna, Spain and from there we spent almost three weeks day sailing south to the port of Vigo. This part of Spain is named Galicia and it is a great place to go cruising with many anchorages, charming villages, lots of tasty mussels and bottles of Alborino wine. Curare is staying for the winter in Vigo, on the hard at Marina Punta Lagoa. We are looking forward to returning next May as there is still a lot to see and do.

Since returning to the west coast in October we have immersed ourselves in the same activities that we were doing in the spring. In some ways it seems as if we never left. We are still putting together our sailing plans for the coming New Year of 2020 and of course will keep up our travelling stories on our blog http://curare.typepad.com.

Once again - we wish you a Merry Christmas and best wishes for a prosperous New Year.

Burning Diesel

As we've mentioned in a couple of previous posts it seems that we motored a lot this past summer. Some of the reasons have been weather related: trying to get ahead of a weather system or positioning ourselves so we are in a good departure point when the weather is favourable, others have been tidal: motoring against counter currents so that we can catch a favourable tide or so that we do not arrive after dark. Looking at the details of our summer cruise we covered approximately 2500 nautical miles (Nm) (someone forgot the current log book on the boat which is why this is approximate) and we ran the engine for a total of 275 hours. This consumed 516 litres of diesel for an average of 1.9 litres per hour which works out to one litre for 3 Nm of travel or roughly 14 Nm per gallon - so ----- not a very efficient way to get from here to there.

By comparison, in 2018, while cruising through the Baltic, we covered 1369.1 Nm and ran the engine for 240 hours. This consumed 299.3 litres of diesel for an average of 1.3 litres per hour. In 2017 we crossed the Atlantic from Virginia to Denmark covering 5209 Nm, running the engine for 347.6 hours. This consumed 531 litres of diesel for an average of 1.5 liters per hour.

How do we know all of these boring facts? We keep a daily log book. As well as recording our position and the weather every hour we also record the Nm covered during the day and the amount of time we use the engine. When we departed Vancouver in 2007 we thought that Curare burned diesel at a rate of 3 liters/hour but now, 12 years later, we use a calculation of 2 liters/hour. Curare has tankage for 200 litres of fuel and we carry an additional 80 litres in jerry cans strapped to a board on the starboard life line. Using the conservative burn rate of two litres per hour at 1700 rpm we can run the engine for 140 hours and we have a theoretical range of 700 miles. We always ensure that there is sufficient fuel left in the tank to make it into a port and there is always one, 20 liter, reserve jerry can on deck in case of fuel contamination. Diesel prices in Europe are more expensive than those we have encountered elsewhere in our travels, ranging from a high of CAD$2.23 per litre in Denmark to a low of CAD$1.95 per litre in oil producing Norway. These prices make fuel costs in Vancouver seem cheap.

When coastal sailing we run the engine when departing and entering an anchorage and this, combined with our two 135 watt solar panels, is usually sufficient to keep the batteries charged until the next anchorage. On ocean passages we sail as much as possible, at times only drifting, but we will motor through calm spells when there is the opportunity to reach a positive weather system, or to avoid nasty weather chasing us from the stern. We also need to run the engine every few days because our solar panels do not keep up with the energy consumption from the fridge, navigation lights, chartplotter and occasional radar usage (time to upgrade, our panels are fourteen years old and solar technology has progressed). Even though we are on a sailboat, some things are much easier with engine propulsion - and as we have said before, we are not purists. We rely on the engine.

Home for the Winter

The crew of Curare departed Canada on May 15 and entered the Schengen area on May 16. This started our 90 day clock - tick tock, tick tock. Last summer, 2018, was very rushed because of the Schengen time restriction so this year LE decided she would find a legal way to stay longer. Britain is not part of the Schengen so any time spent there does not count; the clock gets stopped. But the ticking clock would start up again as soon as we re-entered a Schengen country, the original time in the Schengen does not go away, it stays intact for 180 days. LE did some calculations with her calendar in hand (yes, a paper calendar) and figured out that if we spent 60 days in Britain our Schengen time would be over on October 12, which for us would be five months away. This didn't sound so rushed, so that is the date we chose to fly home.

We also had the issue of the Curare's 18 month customs restriction. If a foreign flagged vessel remains more than 18 months in the EU then customs' regulations requires the boat to be imported. This means paying the VAT (value added tax), which in some European countries is 25%. We do not anticipate leaving Curare in Europe so this is a tax we do not want to pay. We had taken Curare to Russia (obviously non-EU) in July 2018 so she was allowed to remain until January 2020, but as we were planning to leave her in Spain the winter of 2019/2020 we were going to have to leave the EU again. Luckily for us Norway is not part of the EU, although it is part of the Schengen, so we took Curare to Norway for three weeks in July. This means Curare can now stay in the EU until January 2021.

This all sounds great when written down on paper, but since none of the countries stamp passports there is no official documentation to show that

1.  the crew left the Schengen area,and
2.  Curare left the EU

If we were departing by boat, lets say to cross the Atlantic heading west, this would probably not be an issue because as far as we know boat papers and passports are not examined; the boat and crew just say goodbye. But when leaving by plane it becomes a little worrisome, not for Curare, but for the crew.

Our flights home this year took us from Vigo, to Madrid and then onward to Frankfurt. This is where our passports were going to be scrutinized. LE collected all of the receipts she had been saving to prove that we had left the Schengen (someone else suggested taking the ships log (we did not)) and we shuffled through the line towards the immigration officer. He looked at both of our passports, saw our EU entry date was May 16, and asked what we had been doing? We told him we were on a boat, gave the date of leaving Norway and the date of arriving in Spain and without even bothering to use his Schengen calculator he said "O.K., have a nice trip". He did not ask for any documentation. I do not know if this officer was bored, particularly nice, familiar with people on boats, having a good day, or did we look innocent, naive and trustworthy?

Now we are back on the west coast for the rainy winter weather and blog entries won't be as frequent, but there will be a some. We plan on returning to Curare in May 2020 to continue our adventures but at this point do not know where that will be. Do we turn east at the Straits of Gibraltar, keep heading south to West Africa or follow the flow and turn west towards the Caribbean. Lots of decisions and research to keep us busy over the next few months.

Marina Punta Lagoa

The marina at Punta Lagoa will be Curare's winter home this year (2019/2020). LE spent a lot of time last winter reviewing various options, blog posts, recommendations and availability and this marina sounded good. It's located in the Ria Vigo with the city of Vigo only four kilometres away. The marina itself is somewhat remote as it is two kilometres from the suburb of Teis where there are shops, a self-serve laundry, and restaurants. Several blogs, as well as personal information, said the walk to Teis was up a steep hill but it wasn't so bad and a return trip, carrying groceries, only took an hour. There are no restaurants at the marina, neither is there a laundry, nor a convenience store - everything you want/need is up that hill. The marina itself is well protected and safe from the prevailing NE winds at the base of Monte Guia with solid breakwaters all around protecting the boats from the wave action generated by freighter and tug traffic transiting the area. There is almost no ocean swell as Illas Cies, eight nautical miles away, protects this Ria from the open Atlantic.

The marina has a small, solid concrete, yard for boat storage so we were surprised to see it had two travel lifts; a 40 ton lift that seems to only be used for moving boats within the storage area and a massive 100 ton lift that is the primary one to haul most boats out of the water. It seems the majority of the boats that are currently on the hard are being worked on with keels being removed, fiberglass work happening, general engine service and bottom painting. This year Curare will be spending her time outdoors as opposed to the storage sheds we used in the Baltic during  the past two winters and we were rather concerned that Curare would be placed near one of these 'work in progress' vessels. Dirt, grinding/sanding dust and overspray can potentially be a problem, but we were assured that boats that are there 'just to be stored' are located in a different section of the yard.

Curare was scheduled to be hauled out on Monday October 7 and we arrived Friday September 27 so we had nine full days tied to a dock to complete the majority of the preparations involved with winter storage. It is always easier to do these tasks when there is deck level access to a hose, dragging a hose up a ladder when on the hard is much more difficult. By the time we were hauled the entire inside of the boat had been washed thoroughly with bleach and then vinegar, all clothes washed, dried and stored in giant ziplock bags, all interior lockers cleaned and left open to air, all running rigging removed and washed, sails rinsed and removed, the topsides were washed and waxed, the exterior lockers were completely emptied, washed and dried, mechanical items were serviced, and remaining items on the boat were placed into two large duffels to be returned to Canada: most of the high latitude clothes that we don't plan on needing anytime soon, and the few trinkets and souvenirs that we have collected along the way. All of this time we were still living on the boat and making meals, the only thing we were not doing on board was showering. (We had been warned about the showers at this marina, everyone that has been here previously mentioned the condition of the showers as soon as we asked about the place. We thought "They couldn't be as bad as the ones in St. Petersburg, or a few of the places we visited in Mexico"; in fact they were worse. However they did have hot water).

We were hauled out, in the 100 ton travel lift, at 0900 Monday October 7 just as we were promised. Despite speaking the same language the mañana attitude, that we encountered while sailing in Mexico, does not seem to be prevalent in Spain. And also as promised, we are outside of the work yard with Curare's stern against a fence so that there is no possibility of anyone running into our wind vane bracket with a fork lift or travel lift. Curare looked like a toy in the large travel lift, and as usual she has the shortest mast.

For the final two nights GG found the crew a lovely Airbnb on the waterfront in Vigo. No more disgusting showers and no more cooking. Getting off of the boat for the final two days meant LE could give all walls a final wipe down so that there is less chance for mold to grow (as has happened in the past), and we were also able to remove the large duffel bags and pack the interior of Curare  with all of our sails. Since we have not left Curare out of doors for several years (she was covered with a full boat cover in Trinidad (summers 2014 & 2015) and Virginia (winter 2016/2017)) we were apprehensive about leaks especially as GG had looked on the internet and found out that Vigo has a winter climate similar to Vancouver (AKA lots of rain). So he spent about two days assessing the teak deck, repairing caulking where needed, and as an added precaution we rigged a tarp over the main salon hatch. But --- just in case the historic weather data is incorrect we rigged a sun protecting tarp over our overturned dinghy on the foredeck (best to be prepared for everything). Curare used to weather winters in Vancouver without any issues, we are keeping our fingers crossed this winter in Spain will turn out the same.

Illas Cies

Wednesday morning, September 25, was beautiful and the southwest wind was not too strong, but there was an ocean swell of 3 meters from the west. We motored out of Ria Aldan, west and then southwest, toward Illas Cies, only a 10 mile trip, but the beam swell made it a bit uncomfortable. O.K. - more than uncomfortable, LE got seasick. We thought that once we got on the eastern side of Illas Cies the swell would decrease, which it did a little bit, but we were still rocking and rolling and even in the anchorage we were bouncing around, as were the nine other boats already there.

Illas Cies is not just one island, there are actually three of them, the clearly separate Illa de San Martino in the south, and Illa do Faro (Middle) and Illa do Monteagudo (North) which are connected by a man made causeway. There are two places to anchor, off the beach in front of Illa de San Martino or off of Praia de Rodas at the south end of Illa do Monteagudo (42deg 13.35'N; 008deg 53.96'W). We chose the latter as people are allowed on shore to wander along the long expanse of sand (rated as the Best Beach in the World by the Guardian newspaper) and through the eucalyptus and pine forests on well maintained walking trails. No one is allowed to walk on Illa de San Martino above the high tide line.

The anchorage is in front of the busy ferry terminal and adjacent restaurant, which even at the end of September was quite crowded. The island is a popular destination for locals and tourists and gets more than 1.5 million visitors annually, but happily many of them do not venture further than the restaurant and beach, so if you wander a few kilometers in any direction you have the island to yourself. There are several lighthouses, high sand dunes, ancient ruined walls and houses, curious rock formations, and soft, fine sand, beaches - a few with azure blue waters like the Caribbean (but a whole lot colder). Inland are huge government run campgrounds where hundreds of tourists can spend the night in rows of permanent tents. The campgrounds even have convenience stores and restaurants.

We went on two walks on two successive days; south to the Faro de Cies at 175 meters elevation (7.4 km) and then north to Faro do Peito at water level (5.6 km). Both days were sunny but the persistent fog was still hanging around so the viewscape was hazy. On the third morning we were woken by a heavy rain drumming on the cabin top. It was time to leave, but we will return.

A quick visit to Ria de Pontevedra

The weather in Galicia has been somewhat of a disappointment with days of fog interspersed with a few hours of weak sunshine. When we finally got a forecast for clear skies there was going to be strong wind from the southwest so instead of going to Illas Cies as planned, the most southerly island group in the Parque Nacional Illas Atlánticas, we motor sailed 7.8 miles southeast to Ria de Aldán at the southwestern end of Ria de Pontevedra. This small Ria is open the north but provides good protection from the south and has excellent holding in front of a sandy swimming beach (42deg 16.77'N;008 deg 49.67'W). Most of the bay is crowded with mussel farms, large square floating rafts below which dangle hundreds of ropes where the mussels attach and grow. Each raft is independent from it's neighbour, there are no hidden lines below the water, so once you get over the fear of sailing so close to a large floating object navigating between them saves a lot of time. Ria de Aldán has the reputation of having the warmest waters for swimming, but no one was on the beach when we arrived and a few hours after we dropped our anchor a work boat came and removed all of the yellow buoys marking the swimming area. It was September 23 and summer was over.

As predicted the wind got stronger during the night, but we were perfectly protected and by morning it had settled back to calmer conditions. We were running out of food, and more importantly wine, so GG suggested we motor 8.3 miles around the corner to the small city of Bueu where he thought there would be a grocery store. What he did not consider was the day of the week. It was Sunday and all shops, except bakeries, shut their doors at 1400 on Saturday and do not re-open until Monday at 0930. The anchorage in front of the Bueu beach would not be pleasant in a northerly wind but with light wind from the south it was fine (42deg 19.76'N;008 deg 47.45'W). Instead of taking our dinghy to the beach and dealing with the tide we went inside of the breakwater where the local fishing fleet is moored, and tied our dinghy up close to a ramp. Then we set off to explore the town in search of a store. A lot of local people were out walking dressed in puffy ski jackets and scarves licking ice cream cones, outdoor restaurants were full of people eating and drinking, a small playland was cranking out the music as the rides whirled around, loud firecrackers and rockets were being shot into the sky (these are only shot off during the day to make noise, they are never shot off after dark), and bakeries had lines of people waiting to buy pastries. Despite walking all over, up and down the hills, we could not even find a 7-11 type of convenience store so we opted for a restaurant where we ate mussels washed down with a copa de vino blanco, which in Galicia is always the varietal Alborino.

Next morning was Monday, the stores were open, we went back into Bueu for supplies and then hauled up our anchor and left. More south west wind was predicted so we went 7.6 miles northeast to the head of the Ria de Pontevedra and stayed overnight in Marina Combarro, the most expensive marina so far this summer - 3.70 Euros per meter per night (42deg 25.70'N;008 deg 42.25'W). The chart we have shows very little water approaching the marina but we motored in close to high tide and our depth gauge showed 7 meters. This marina is large, new and clean and there were several British flagged boats at the docks, some of whom stay here permanently. Hopefully they are charged a more reasonable fee. We were only a couple of blocks to a touristy part of town popular with Spanish day trippers and it was a town that LE had read about and wanted to visit. It is typical of a Galician fishing village from a few centuries ago with stone paved streets, stone buildings lining the water front, a large number of hórreos (grain storage bins) and several crucieros (stone crosses with the virgin Mary and baby Jesus on one side and on the opposite side is Jesus on the cross). Despite the hordes of tourists LE found it an interesting place to see although the weather was rather gloomy.

During the night the wind increased and the slapping of the rigging on neighbouring boats made sleeping difficult, but by noon on Tuesday the wind had settled down to a reasonable 8 knots. We departed our slip and, for the first time ever, GG managed to back Curare out of the marina. Curare has a full keel and travelling in reverse is a challenge as her bow blows off and then we are sideways between the rows of moored boats. This causes LE a great deal of anxiety/stress. When we left marina Cambarro the wind was from the stern at the perfect angle and Curare backed up in a straight line. We looked good, like we always went backwards.

We left too late to go directly to Illas Cies so we stopped, once again, at Ria Aldán for the night protected from wind by the sandy beach and from the Atlantic swell by the rafts of mussel farms.

Visiting Illas de Salvora and Ons

We left Corcubion, Spain on the 17 of September heading south to visit the three islands in the Parque Nacional Illas Atlánticas before heading to Vigo to begin our winter, boat leaving, preparations. Since it was our last cruise of this season and we were in Spain, we had expectations of warm sunny conditions with the prevailing NW breeze wafting us gently southward. This did not happen, instead we had days of no wind and heavy fog, then strong winds from the south west, some rain and finally a day and a half of sunshine, but the 3 meter swell made getting ashore in the dinghy rather sporty.

Leaving Corcubion it looked like it was going to be a perfect day but as soon as the sun rose from behind the ridge a sea fog descended and stuck with us the entire voyage. This was not a wispy, misty fog, it was the thick cotton wool kind of fog, we could not see more than 100 meters. At times like this it is handy to have radar and know how to use it because the many small fishing boats that surrounded us did not have AIS. We knew boats were out there, at times we could hear the throb of their engines, but did we see any boats? - NO we did not. GG steered and LE navigated using the radar, tracking targets and altering Curare's course to avoid collisions. Our destination that evening was the most northerly of the park islands, Illa de Salvora.

To approach the island from the north is challenging because we had to navigate through the Canal de Sagres, described as "a 250m wide passage with 7 to 10m depths which is not recommended except on a calm day using detailed charts and preferably with local knowledge". We had one of these three, a calm day, so we decided to go for it rather than take the long way around to the south; razor sharp rocks were on both sides of the boat and jagged reefs we couldn't see were marked on our chart. The fog made things interesting. As we approached the northern end of the island the fog lifted enough to see the shore and soon we were at anchor in front of the Praia de Castillo. This island is not serviced by a regular ferry so the only visitors are people arriving on private boats and it feels very desolate - it even has a deserted village where people lived until 1972. (To visit this village you need to a guide and we could not find one. Too late in the season I guess.) We took our dinghy to the shallow inner harbour and tied alongside the small pontoon then walked on the only walking trail to the lighthouse at Punta Besuqueiros, a distance of 1.2 km. There is not much to see, the vegetation is thick and you cannot stray from the path, but it was a pleasant way to stretch our legs. The interior of the island is strewn with curious granitic rock formations, some that look like animals, others that are perched so precariously it looks like a strong wind would topple them down the hillside. We enjoyed looking at these so much we went ashore the next morning, on the same walk, but this time we also spotted two wild horses on a hill, a deer, and two rabbits.

Then it was off to the next islands to the south; Illas de Ons. We thought the fog might lift once the sun had warmed things up so we waited at Salvora until after lunch watching local fishermen haul in their catch using nets, but the fog just got thicker so we turned on our radar and left. The smaller of the two main islands, Illa de Onza, is off limits to visitors as it is a bird sanctuary, but the larger one has regular ferry service. There are two places that a visiting boat can stay; either anchor in front of Praia de Melide or pick up a mooring north of the stone ferry jetty. These moorings are too close together, I can't imagine the bumping that must go on when it is high season, luckily we were the only boat using the moorings (except for a local fishing boat who took a mooring near to us to eat their breakfast and then threw all of their trash into the ocean. This incensed GG so he hopped into our dinghy with a garbage bag and picked up all of their plastic debris. It is disheartening to see this kind of behaviour especially in a National Park, but all the protests in the world will do nothing to stop it. Protesting for better education would be more helpful).

A handful of people still reside on Illa de Ons and there is a wee village by the jetty, but do not expect to buy anything except some tacky souvenirs or lunch at the popular Casa Checo overlooking the harbour. We did not go ashore the day we arrived, we could not even see the ferry jetty, but the next morning the fog did not seem quite as thick so we went ashore and followed a path on a circular walk to the south, a distance of 6.2 km. There was not a lot to see, without the fog I think the views would have been great because you walk upwards to the top of the island, but all we could see was close to the path - we did not even bother walking to the mirador (the lookout). Once we got to the western side the fog lifted a bit and we saw the Buraco do Inferno (the vertical mouth of a large sea cave), waves crashing onto the cliffs and a lot of grassy meadows (but where were the sheep?). Very few other visitors use the wide, well maintained walking paths, most prefer to stay close the jetty so we seemingly had the island to ourselves. With better weather we would have stayed another day and walked to the north, but the following day was drizzly so we left.

Our next island destination was Illa de Cies, but we did not go there directly as weather got in the way. More to follow.

Parque Nacional Illas Atlánticas

Last February when LE was dreaming of cruising in northern Spain she discovered that there was a a chain of islands off the shores of Galicia that sounded wonderful. An article in Yachting Monthly and several blogs wrote glowing reports, likening them to Caribbean islands with tourquoise waters and white sandy beaches. But there is a catch, you can't just go there as they belong to the Parque Nacional Illas Atlánticas (en Español) or Atlantic Islands National Park (in English).

In the 1980s, Spain acquired several islands off the Atlantic coast and placed them in a National Park. These islands are named, from north to south, Salvora, Ons and Cies and they lie at the entrances to the Ria de Arousa, the Ria de Pontevedra, and the Ria de Vigo. The islands form natural barriers against the forces of the Atlantic weather and protect the sealife and shores of the Rias Baixas (the name for the coastal region of Galicia south of Cape Finisterre).

To visit the islands you can go by ferry or get a permit to anchor your boat. Acquiring the permit is a two step process. First you have to apply, and receive a permit to sail there. Apply well in advance, the permit is good for two years and is renewable indefinitely, so there is no reason for waiting to apply at the last minute. The permit form can be found at www.iatlanticas.es/formulario/formulario_ingles.pdf. Print this out and fill it out manually, you cannot submit it electronically. Scan the completed form and send it to iatlanticas@xunta.gal together with your (scanned) passport, vessel registration, and Certificate of Competence or similar document. Include a very short explanatory letter, preferably in Spanish, asking them to process your application. I used Google Translate and in the accompanying email sent both my original English text and aslo the Google Translate text.

This did not happen immediately, I submitted the documents in February but it was not until early April that we received the permit by email. The vessel is required to have this permit on board, preferably as a printed document - we did not have it printed. With this permit you are allowed to apply for permission to anchor in the Park, get a mooring or go scuba diving.

We expected this second part, the obtaining of the actual anchoring permission, to be a difficult process, but it was surprisingly easy. The only catch - you need an interent connection. Go to www.iatlanticas.es and at the very top of the page in the left corner you will see a little British flag. Click on this to change the web page into English. At the bottom of the page in orange coloured hyperlinks you will see "apply for anchoring permission". Click on that link and fill in the form. Your ID card is your passport number and your password is your navigation number (this is on the original permit that you received by email). Then you are sent to another page and at the bottom of this one you pick the island you want to visit and the date that you want to anchor. If you want to stay in one anchorage for three nights you will have to do this three times (or maybe if you are cleverer than me you will be able to choose three consecutive dates all at once). Permission is given or denied on the spot. We saved the resulting document as a PDF so we could show it to a Park ranger if one came by our boat, but no one came to check. Because we are visiting in September the islands are very quiet and we always obtained anchoring permission but during the summer some days are fully booked and then permission will be denied.

A Coruña to Corcubion

After a peaceful night at anchor in Ensenada de Mera we departed at 8:00 AM on September 14 for two consecutive  passages crossing our fingers that the favourable weather window around Cape Finisterre was gong to remain as forecast. It seems strange to us that the sun does not poke it's head over the horizon until after 8:00 in the morning because at the beginning of our summer cruise it never got dark and that does not seem sovery  long ago. There was little wind for the first two hours as we motored west past the Tower of Hercules, but a 1.0 meter swell running from the north set Curare rolling back and forth. To reduce this sickening motion LE swallowed seasick medication, we unfurled the genoa and raised the main and by 10:00 AM we shut off the engine. The wind increased from 12 to 18 knots but we were going downwind so the sailing was fine, the skies were sunny, we were visited by a pod of bottlenose dolphins and the blue Atlantic was foaming past our bow.

Our destination was 38 miles southwest, the Ria de Corme and Laxe, one of the Rias Altas (north of Cape Finsiterre). This Ria is easy to enter and we had read that there were two locations for anchoring dependent on the wind direction. Our wind was from the northeast so it was an easy decision to head for Ensenada de Corme in the north and take shelter behind the breakwater. As soon as we altered course to enter the Ria we realized our mistake - we were sailing with a full genoa and main, but now the wind was on the beam. Over we went, the starboard rail was in the water, neither of the crew was very happy. After five or six minutes of this nonsense we turned into the wind to drop the mainsail; by this time the wind was gusting to 25 knots. We don't know if we are lucky, unlucky, fated, or poor planners but we always seem to come into an anchorage when the wind is at it's most fierce. We eventually dropped the anchor in front of a sandy beach (43deg 15.71'N;008deg 57.34'W) and stayed onboard. It was too windy to launch the dinghy and although the holding appeared good it would not be prudent to leave Curare unattended in the strong gusts.

We left the next morning at 8:00 AM with a plan of being south of Finisterre by the afternoon. We motor sailed past Ria de Camariñas, our original destination when we departed the Isles of Scilly, and continued southward with the cliffs of the Costa da Morte (Death Coast) towering to the east. This coast has been the site of numerous shipwrecks and founderings and there are a lot of offshore rocks, not all of them exposed, so we were keeping about 2 miles off. The wind was only 12 knots from the NW but after yesterdays blunder of too much sail for the conditions today we just unfurled the genoa and left the main tied to the boom. Curare did not seem to care that there was no main sail, she averaged better than 5.5 knots, as quickly as the previous day, and we sped 42 miles south.

By 3:30 PM we were passing the lighthouse on top of Cape Finisterre (Cabo Fisterra), 238 meters (781 feet) above sea level. In Roman times it was believed to be the end of the known world. Because it is a prominent landfall on the route from northern Europe to the Mediterranean and the Americas, laws governing the colonies of the British Empire used the latitude of Cape Finisterre (42 deg, 52.5 minutes N) as the latitude past which certain goods could not be shipped north directly between British colonies. For instance, it was forbidden to ship sugar cane directly from Jamaica to Nova Scotia, as such a transaction crossed through this latitude. Instead, the laws required that the sugar cane be shipped first from Jamaica to England, where it would be re-exported (and re-taxed) to Nova Scotia.

As expected the wind died to nothing in the lee of the Cape and we motored the next five miles, east and then north, to an anchorage in front of the small town of Corcubion (42deg 56.77'N;009deg 11.39'W) in the Ria of the same name. Hills all around this small Ria funnel the northerly winds but there is no swell and the holding is good in clam shell rich black mud. There is a large active fishing fleet that occupies the mooring field directly behind the breakwater but there was plenty of room to anchor seaward of them.

The following day we stayed at anchor and walked around the tiny town. This is not a tourist destination except for the sweaty pilgrims who are walking the final 90 km on the Way of St. James from the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostelato to Cape Finisterre. We were not here to be a pilgrim, we just wanted to enjoy the ambiance of an old Spanish town so we merely strolled up and down the hilly and twisting streets taking photos and peeking inside the courtyards and churches. Our walk eventually took us to the head of the Ria where a dozen or more people were raking the mudflats in front of the town of Cee, all them looking for clams. We, unexpectedly, found a large Carrefour supermarket with pretty much any type of food stuffs you could want, too bad as we already had enough food on board but we did buy a bottle of the local Alborino wine. Very tasty.

A Coruña

When we departed the Isles of Scilly our planned destination was the west coast of Spain at Ria de Camariñas, north of Cabo Fisterra (Cape Finisterre in English). But the weather forecast changed during our passage and now going to that Ria would mean a fourth night on passage, winds of 35 knots and large seas. So we went to the back-up destination, the Galician city of A Coruña (Galician) or La Coruña (Spanish), capital of the province of the same name. Galicia is an autonomous region of Spain and has it's own official language, Gallego, although all signs are also in the co-official language of Spanish which “everyone is entitled to know and use.” Time to haul out our Spanish dictionary from the back of the book shelf where it has been stored since our visit to Cuba in March 2016.

A Coruña has two guest marinas, both nestled behind a long stone breakwater which provides protection from the relentless northern swell. As we rounded the breakwater we saw Marina Coruña which has additional protection provided by two floating breakwaters, but even with these the swell is reported to be uncomfortable. We did not want to verify this for ourselves so we chose the second marina, Marina Real, also called Darsena de la Marina because it is located in the old fishing harbour, an artificial boat basin completely enclosed by high stone walls. On the landward side the marina is overlooked by rows of white painted apartments with windowed balconies called galerías. This type of structure was designed so that you could use your balcony on rainy days and originated in the 18th century when some naval technicians working for the Royal Dockyards had the idea of using the shape of the back of a warship in a modern building. Soon afterward, most seaports in northern Spain, were adding these glazed window balconies to their city-port houses and A Coruña has the best examples.

After our rather cold summer in the north the weather here was wonderful, with cool mornings and warm evenings. During the day it actually got hot enough for LE to walk around in a sleeveless T-shirt - the fist time this season. We spent our two days in the city exploring the Old Town (Cidade Vella in Galician), went looking for a marine chandler to buy a few boat bits, ate empanadas, bought some boxes of Don Simon red wine (same brand as we used to buy in Mexico in 2008), and walked along the seafront promenade to the Tower of Hercules, a lighthouse which has been in continuous operation since possibly the 2nd century AD.

Legend says that the hero Hercules slew the giant tyrant Geryon after three days and three nights of continuous battle and afterwards he buried the head of Geryon with his weapons and ordered that a city be built on the site. In actual fact the Tower was built in the early second century AD by the architect Caius Sevius Lupus but the current facade was added during a reconstruction in 1791 by the architect Gianini. The tower is yet another UNESCO World Heritage Site that we can add to our ever growing list of "Sites we have seen". Surrounding the tower is a large public park with unusual sculptures, a mini Stonehenge dedicated to the ancient peoples who used to farm crops on this spot, and the domed and tiled Moor's Graveyard, a building where in fact there were never any burials, Muslim or not.

Three nights at a marina was enough for us, plus it was getting crowded with many European flagged yachts flocking south to the Canary Islands to participate in the ARC 2019 (Atlantic Rally for Cruisers). These boats came into the marina, proudly hoisted their ARC flag on their forestay and then did all of the upkeep and chores that you do at the beginning of a great sea adventure. We have become somewhat less frantic over the years, but seeing these newbie cruisers prompted us to do a few more chores than we normally do.

We were still waiting for settled weather to head south around Cabo Fisterra so we filled our diesel tanks at the Marina Coruña and then motored 2 miles across the bay to an anchorage in Ensenada da Mera (43deg 22.82'N;008deg 20.71'W). It was Friday afternoon and the anchorage was full of little boats enjoying the sunny and warm afternoon, but by sundown they had all left. It felt good to be back at anchor, this year we have spent far too many nights tied to a dock in a marina and we prefer the freedom of lying to the hook.