North to Galicia.

The south wind came and blasted us up past the Ilhas Berlengas, off which we were thoroughly drenched and blew out the working jib. We went into Nazare for a night's rest and a bit of a dry out, where the marina very kindly declined to charge me 'just for a night's rest', almost unprecedented these days I should think!
Off again in the morning with a fine breeze and a clearing sky, the Anna M in her glory tramping along with deep reefed mainsail and storm jib.

Waves by Joe

Gannet by Abe

There were plenty of gannets playing over the waves, but mostly on their own, which is unusual. One feels their quiet exaltation, and indeed very privileged to share in it in our inadequate way! Still it was good to gain quiet water again, and a good night's rest in Bayona, which we left in company with the Ros Alither. 

Ros Alither in the Ria de Vigo.

She had spent the winter in the Canaries, after we met her in the Guadiana last October, and had carried the south-west wind most of the way up. I wonder does this often happen in May? Never had such a passage north before myself, but I wasn't particularly expecting or looking out for such an opportunity before.

We landed into the Marina Davila at the entrance to Bouzas harbour, right beside Vigo. Big activity going on, with a bank holiday coming next week and the weather forecast to improve; the manager spluttered when I said I wanted to haul out and careen before the end of the week. 'But I have a queue of boats for the lift and the washer is broken right now.' 'That's fine, we'll clean her by hand - better for an old wooden boat anyway!' So we jumped the queue, and very glad I was of Abe's help. There was a mighty crop of barnacles on her, worse than last year for some reason.

The guy that worked the lift was spectacular, and altogether the staff were great, very friendly, competent and out-going. I thought Bouzas would be a practical kind of place and I wasn't disappointed, and delighted with the excellent menu del dia up in the town too; a good three course meal plus wine for eur8. There is an excellent chandlery there too. The marina even provide bikes for one to whistle up past the docks. 

Bouzas and the Marina Davila, right centre. 

Anna M tied up astern of the big 3 master.

We were back in the water on Friday, job done in spite of some rain, and the best of it is that this time I really have slowed down the leaks, mainly because of sealing a beastly anode that is very hard to get to see from the inside. So today being Saturday went to have a peak round Vigo. It's a bit run down, its days as Spain's gateway to North America long gone and the fishing depressed, but there are signs of vitality too; trying to buck up the pleasant old town for instance.

Where Vigo began.

I've left Abe there; he's gone to see if he can share Barcelona's glory in winning the League!

Abe in front of the Castle.

La Romaria

The sky was an unblemished blue, the hills still green, as we let go the mooring where the Anna M had turned peacefully to the tide for the last six months.The nightingales were still singing away, though perhaps with a tad less urgency. Their singing would soon be giving way to the hard work of rearing young, while the sun, becoming fierce, will burn up the sweet green grasses and those so touching, delicate flowers.

The people of Sanlucar were doing some singing too. It was the weekend of the Romeria, when after Mass each family piles heaps of chairs and tables and goodies onto decorated carts, and dressed in their gorgeous flamenco gear, the fellas on their horses, they set off for a field half way to El Ganado, the next village up the road, to have a hooley with the folk from there.

Abe's photo, and he was too shy to get a good photo of the girls!

English Protestants are inclined to be snooty about the way these Catholics muddle up sex with religion, though D.H. Lawrence, no less, commented somewhere that ‘the Pope knows more about sex than an army of sex therapists’! That ‘old celibate in the Vatican’ scores because he sees sex in its spiritual context, or if you must merely think of it so, in its psycho-social context, instead of just focussing on individuals. The nightingales have no need of sex therapists!

Staying on the psycho-social level, as I recall from Somerset there would be ructions and fights when lads from Holcombe or Leigh-on-Mendip came ‘poaching our girls’ in Stoke St Michael. The Andalucians, aware of the danger of in-breeding in a small community, seem to take the opposite approach. As for the Pope, there is a feast of wisdom available on such matters in his Apostolic Exhortation Amoris Laetitia - The Joy of Love. My top quote (on this wave-length) is ‘Communication is an art learned in moments of peace in order to be practised in moments of difficulty.’

Yet it remains the spiritual context that gives such statements their force. 'The family is the image of God, who is a communion of persons’, says the Pope, and it is the risen Christ who sustains our joy. Meanwhile the stretching of life to the dimensions of God is our difficult and never-ending project. Whatever about one village and another, I’m still working on this Gannetsway from the Guadiana to Sherkin Island….

The beginning of May is a good time to head north, with the days getting long and even warm there, and before that Nortada gets too established on the west coast of the Iberian peninsula. Right now a Levanter was forecast - the hasky easterly blasting through the Straights. Soon enough my crew, Abraham, a nephew by Fiona’s brother Anthony, would have his sea-legs tested. The east wind sprang up as we lay at anchor in Tavira, after a first cushy day sailing down the river. Abe’s sea-legs proved good as we had two lively day sails, to Culatra and then on to Portimao, where we went up-river to the pontoons just below the bridge. It is an excellent place for supplies, the cost of berthing is very reasonable, diesel is available and Pingo Doce and many shops nearby.

Going ashore in Culatra....

Abe swimming,

and a peaceful night.

Alongside in Portimao.

On the evening of its third day we still carried the easterly on round the Cabo de Sao Vicente, and headed north with that rare luxury, a gentle easterly breeze. It took us as far as Cabo Espichel before it finally expired, then a light northwesterly sprang up and we were just able to lay Cascais, where I’m writing this. Now the north-west wind is fresh, but it’s supposed to go south-west tomorrow, and we’ll be on our way again first thing in the morning. This anchorage will be untenable with the south or south-east gale that's forecast, but let's see how far it will take us!

Good job Fiona is off grannying!