I’m writing this half way between Portugal and Spain. In fact, we’re in Spanish water by now and have changed over courtesy flags and received Orange text messages welcoming us and inviting us to cross their palms with silver for the slightest hint of a phone call. But until we get to Baiona I’m not sure I’ll quite believe it!
It’s been a fairly typical day so far; sail, then don’t sail, motor, motor, motor. We’ve seen a couple of other yachts going the other way and a few fishing boats and ships passing out to sea, but nothing untoward has happened, apart from the sea turning red. We looked ahead a little while ago and saw that great patches of water were purply red. This was quite alarming to start with, as water tends to look very similar to this when shallow and rock strewn. However, we checked the chart and there was no problem and we were in fifty metres plus of water. As we got closer we were none the wiser, but more and more patches appeared and we started to drive through them. You can’t see when you’re in them that they’re red, but looking around us now it’s as though somebody has tipped a bottle of dye or worse over the water. Si reckons it’s plankton.
What is that annoying song that goes …..my Sharona? You know the one. (Have just googled it. It is by ‘The Knack’. What a name.) Sing it several times, exchange Sharona for Baiona, wish you’d never thought of something so annoying then try to get it out of your head. Ha!
All bloody day. BUT….(fanfare) we’re here! Spain, Europe. There was an audible whoop as we turned the corner into the bay here and said goodbye to straight line into the wind sailing for the time being. In celebration we decided to treat ourselves to a night in the yacht club here, and tucked ourselves into a good berth, guided by a helpful marina man, where our bowsprit wasn’t too obvious. Olé.