Category: UK to the Mediterranean

To Toulon… pour l’hiver

December 12, 2025 / fiandadrian

Ben and Nicole left us in Ibiza where we did some errands, explored a bit further and headed off to find an anchorage.

Exploring some less crowded areas of Ibiza…

Very much enjoying ourselves. No clubbing required.

When we arrived in Ibiza, there were 2 friendly faces waiting for us! Unbeknownst to us, Castella, had been tracking us for weeks and were moored in the marina opposite. We last saw them in Scotland!

We had met the crew of Castella (built at the same yard as Away) in Oban as they headed for the US. It was a surprise to find them waiting on the dock for us in Ibiza!

We arranged to meet up for BBQ on Castella at a nearby anchorage and catch up on our stories.

Happily I picked up the mooring ball first go because Castella had their handy camera out. I’m quite proud!

After some brilliant time catching up over a delicious BBQ, the next morning we said our goodbyes and both headed north. Castella found a tight anchorage on the east of the island, however we were looking for more relaxed climes and headed further north to find more remote anchorages.

Heading north round the island we passed this arch which jet skis and ribs pass through at high speed. We were going to give it a go, but realised that Away was not fast enough to generate much excitement.

After a few recon missions, we found a cliff lined bay – quite deep but okay. We were the only boat there for the evening. But the next day…

We found a nice quiet anchorage in a cliff lined bay. Soon the other super yachts worked out where we were and joined us in the bay.

The bay had intriguing inlets to explore and

After a couple of days enjoying the tranquillity, we realised that Bernie needed more than a quick swim and paddle board. We couldn’t get off the boat in this anchorage as it was sharp rocky cliffs everywhere. Beautiful, but not great for doggos. We decided it was time to look to the north.

We took an early morning opportunity to jump north to Mallorca

While sailing along, we spotted a Sperm Whale hanging out on the surface before it dived towards the deep trenches that are found in this area.

We had an anchorage in mind for Mallorca. It was supposed to be absolutely beautiful and it was. It was just, really swelly. So we left, and found this place.

Our chosen anchorage was full but just around the corner this protected anchorage was almost empty. At least it was sheltered according to our weather forecasts.

But, on the second day a nice man in a dinghy informed us the mooring field was closed and we had to leave due to 80-90km winds that were due! Some research revealed that Spanish weather had released a thunderstorm warning with possible high winds. All the charter boats were called in and filled up the marinas. Our forecasts didn’t have anything that bad, so we figured we’d need to get other data for the med. Lesson learned.

After a rush replan, we found a marina that would take us on their visitors dock for the night. And the next day we went to Palma for a proper berth and rest.

We found a spot in Palma. Away felt at home amongst the other metal sailing boats

Palma was a fun town and even had a special place for Adrians to have a quiet glass of wine.

We headed towards the north side of the island stopping off at a few anchorages on the way. On the East side of the island we managed to enter a harbour for the evening, only to be told we had arrived at the wrong harbour and were booked at the next harbour along the coast. Oops…we wondered if our navigation skills would be up to finding France?

Arriving in the north of the island we enjoyed a sunset snack before the forecast bad weather set in.

Tucked Away behind a big wall we spent the next two days being smashed against the dock. It may have seemed violent to other boats, but we had survived (just) Guernsey in a south easter…nothing seems so bad now.

After the blow in this marina, we headed the 30 minutes across the bay for another mooring. This time we enjoyed swimming and paddleboarding around the beautiful rock formations.

Tranquility was restored in a nearby anchorage whilst we waited for weather to jump north to Menorca which would be our last stop for the year.

The sail to Menorca was straightforward. Again we had an anchorage in mind, and when we got there, we saw how popular it was, even in October. It was full of swimmers and boats. There was no way we could sleep in such a crowded place, edged by sharp cliffs, so we headed back west and found this essentially empty spacious bay.

We surveyed the popular, but cosy anchorages along the south coast of Menorca before settling on this almost empty sand bottomed bay.

And became reacquainted with the swimming concept

Before some thunderstorms passing along the coast prompted a hasty departure

We almost missed the storm cells and several oncoming boats, but the weather gods determined Away needed a wash and obliged with a pressure wash and rinse.

After the storm and our traverse along the coast in the rain with the lighting just a kilometre away, we settled into a berth in one of the main towns on Menorca called Ciutadella. We figured it was time to stock up on supplies, and start seriously watching the weather for a good window to cross to France.

Ciutadella provided some protection and an opportunity to look very serious with the locals

We wandered around the old town streets before returning to our favorite anchorage.

After 4 days in the marina, the storms abated, and we decided, given it was the end of the season, why not just go somewhere we were comfortable and knew, and wait for our weather window for France. So we went back to that beautiful anchorage.

Before a nice downwind run to Toulon was forecast between the ever more frequent Mistral winds.

We took our last swim, this time, sans bathers in the sunset, and prepared the boat for a 2 day crossing to Toulon, France, our winter berth for this season.

Meals prepared, sails to the ready – we were off.

Good bye Menorca. Good bye summer, Good bye 2025 season. Big red appeared briefly as Menorca disappeared over the horizon. The forecast dry and comfortable conditions were replaced with squalls, 28+ knots and the horizon disappeared behind rolly waves approaching from 3 directions. It was the last sail of the season after all.

The sail to Toulon started off lovely. Flat seas, light winds with big red pushing us along fast. Wait – too fast. We were going to arrive at a new port, a new marina and a new country in the middle of the night. Not ideal. Big red was put away, and the main and the headsails were reefed.

We saw squalls, 4 metre waves, lightning. If you want to see a video let me know and I’ll post it.

Early on the second morning the lights of Toulon appeared out of the night

We slowed down to rendezvous with dawn at the marina

Tied up in our winter berth. Happily protected from the prevailing weather, and with 2 supermarkets, a boulangerie and a Saturday fresh food market even in winter. Happiness is France.

It seemed a lifetime ago that we had left Falmouth, crossed the channel once again and headed south. We had crossed Biscay, avoided the orcas and discovered Portugal. Lingered in Gibraltar, and entered the Mediterranean. Followed the Spanish holiday coasts and finally found warm water in the Balearics. And now, all of sudden, our 2025 cruise had come to end…

The Coast of the Sun

October 27, 2025 / fiandadrian

By Fi

Yes, we’ve made it warm water. Wait. What? Its still not that warm.

We dock in Estepona. Back in Spain after our little British jolly in Gibraltar.

I try out the water as usual, and to be honest, its still chilly. I’m beginning to lose hope that I will swim this year. I am resigned.

Estepona was cute, a little touristy. We found a bar, and my magnet. And a nice restaurant with lovely limoncello. And a statue.

This is becoming a thing I’ve noticed looking through photos.

It wasn’t filling us with super Med vibes, so we thought we’d go and anchor off a white beach with crystal clear blue water.

And then this happened.

Mojito man! Mojito delivery to the boat. We very much enjoyed the watermelon-y goodness of the mojito and to be honest, I kinda hoped he would come back. He also delivers paella if you want. Pretty awesome service. Reminds me of the fellow in Bantry Bay in Sydney who in the mornings delivers freshly ground proper coffee to the boat.

Moving along… Another beautiful beach, but no. The water is still too cold for this Aussie cold fish.

We decide to push in further. Our experience is that we can usually turn up at a marina and they will find a place to put us. We found a marina that we figured would have space, and we had a whole aeroplane display to welcome us in!

This aeroplane did back flips and nose dives as we came into the marina.

We docked at the waiting dock, and after some time, and a phone call, were promptly told that they don’t have space and we had to move along. Oh… Quick replan.

Another anchorage. A stunning wild anchorage with dry cliffs, some swimming, crystal clear blue water and some nice walks.

The Parque Natural del Cabo de Gata-Níjar.

Stunning anchorage. Away is right over the far side.

I used all my spanish to ask some nice people to take this photo. It consisted of please, thank you very much and 2 glasses of red wine.

At this point we decided lets get going. We had guests visiting us soon, so a quick trip up to Aguilas was in order to pick up our friends for some sailing adventures.

It was definitely at this point, mid September, that we made the decision that this winter, we will put in airconditioning. I don’t think I’ve ever been so hot, and I’m from Sydney. Its not so bad on anchor with a nice breeze, but in a marina, no. No, no, no.

Away parked up in possibly the hottest marina I’ve ever been in. There is a huge concrete wall behind us keeping the sea out, and the heat in.

And so it was, with an ice pack on my neck, desperately trying to cool down, that we found our lovely friends, just arrived from rainy cold London.

Yay they made it for a sailing adventure!

After a little boat intro, and an unpack, we head out for a lovely meal and a catchup, ready to get sailing the next day.

We’ve chosen a day with a bit of light up wind sailing and a little bit of tacking, not too bad for a first trip on Away. Ben and Nicole quickly get their sea legs and we make it to a beautiful anchorage at La Chapineta, where I promply set up my SunChill, because the water, the water is WARM!!!!!!!!

With this new found warm water, I just want to anchor, and anchor, and anchor and swim and swim and swim. It still blows my mind that really, nothing is going to sting me and kill me, or bite me and kill me, or stab me and kill me.

We move along the next day to a beautiful island, anchoring pretty far out as there are a few too many boats close in. We spend a bit of a rolly night here, and yes manage to get some swimming in again.

Next was travelling to Cartegena.

We’d been joking about seeing submarines the last couple of days as there were some exercises near us involving a ship and a submarine that we never saw. Well… On approach to Cartegena…

I look out to starboard an exclaim to everyone “That’s a f**king submarine”. Sorry Mum.

We saw a lot of this submarine. It weaved backwards and forwards across our track for about 45 minutes. We would slow down to let it pass, only for it to turn around and head straight at us again.

We found out later it was a brand new submarine and the Navy were taking it out for a spin. Literally.

Ben and Nicole were our tour guides as they had travelled through Cartegena to get to us. Another lovely meal, another lovely Spanish town.

If I do a big burp down there, will they hear it up here?

This is an original Roman road, complete with the foundations of building entries running along.

We are aiming to drop off Nicole and Ben in Palma on Mallorca in the Baeleric Islands, so we keep moving.

There is a man playing bagpipes next to a lighthouse when leaving Cartegena. Of course there is.

I had seen on the charts this inland sea looking thing. On closer inspection, this inland sea was really shallow, full of jelly fish, but you can anchor pretty much anywhere and there might be flamingos! There is a lifting bridge to get in, so we make our way north, timing it for the last bridge opening of the day (after a lot of internet sleuthing and also calling the bridge when we arrived to make sure it was definitely going to open).

We anchored in this abandoned marina for an hour to wait for the bridge.

Maneuvering out to get in line for the bridge crossing.

Ben doing a stellar job of getting us through the bridge.

Anchoring up, another quick swim was had, until yes, we confirmed the inland sea is indeed full of jellyfish. They aren’t really the stinging kind, but its not that nice.

Ben is trying out the water which is delightfully warm, and Nicole is on jellyfish watch. But it was pretty tricky. There is a LOT of jellyfish.

What we do find however, is the mud.

So the idea is, you wade into the water with a container, find a good gooey patch of mud which is in a layer on the bottom, then you collect the mud, get out and smother yourself with it, wait for it to dry, then jump back in the ultra salty water and wash it off.

Some people even lay in this channel. To me it looked like an irrigation channel, but it had very pink salt in it so maybe its good.

It was about a 30 minute trip to the mud in the dinghy. Mainly because with 4 adults we couldn’t get it on the plane.

But we arrive back at Away just in time to snap her with the sunset over the inland sea.

Swimming is still on my mind, so after 2 nights in the jellyfish, we again begin the trip to the islands. We were hoping to do a big trip, but the wind didn’t want to play, so coastal hopping was the go.

Anchoring up in San Gabriel for our launch off to Ibiza the next day.

We didn’t go ashore here as we had planned an early start the next day. Some more swimming was had though!

The wind was pretty friendly across to Ibiza. We make decent time, and we are scoping out some anchorages that may work for us. We were tracking an English boat along the way who seemed to pull into an anchorage on the island south of Ibiza called Formanterra. Hmmm, a quick replan and a 90 degree turn as we neared Ibiza, and all of a sudden we were sailing at 8 knots towards a totally differnet anchorage than we thought.

Ben doing an excellent job hand steering at 8 knots!

We managed to book a mooring ball in this bay super quick, and attempted to pick up the buoy in 25 knots of wind. After several attempts, a lovely man in a dinghy came over to help us out. I have no idea who he was, and we never spoke to him again, but he was an angel. It was really tricky to pick up the ball and tie on, but with teamwork we did it. And when we woke up the next day, all the stress and bruises just faded away as we saw the turquoise calm waters of Ses Illetes. And bonus the beach is dog friendly!

Lots of circle work trying to pick up the mooring.

Two nights were had in this paradise, before we figured we should get to Ibiza. The wind was just not cooperating, and this would be where we would need to leave Ben and Nicole to make their way home. The wind was coming from Palma and with tacking, it would be an extremely long upwind day to get there, so they replanned their trip back. Thanks Ben and Nicole, we had such a great time with you!

Adrian relaxing while our salty seadog friends take us to Ibiza.

Finding ourselves alone again, we quickly found friends! More on some buddy boat fun next time.

The Rock

October 8, 2025 / fiandadrian

By Fi

Me: “Gibraltar VTS, Gibraltar VTS, Gibraltar VTS, this is Away, Away, Away on channel 1-2, do you copy, over” I professionally say on the radio to announce our intentions to cross the bay to our booked marina.

Gibraltar VTS: “Away, Gibraltar VTS, you are clear to proceed. Oh, by the way, what is your air draft?”

Me: “20 metres”

Gibraltar VTS: “Ok thank you”

Confused, we set across the bay of Gibraltar dodging all the boats. Usually authorities are concerned about our water draft, how far under the water we go. But these guys are asking about how high our mast is! I check the charts for bridges or cables over the marina entry. Nothing. Confusion.

In the bay, there are anchored cargo ships, moving cargo ships, high speed ferries everywhere, pilot boats, sail boats, fishing boats, tinnes – you name it. It was possibly worse than crossing the traffic separation scheme in the middle of the English Channel.

Ahhhh there it is! The Rock of Gibraltar!

Why do they want to know our airdraft????? It all became clear as we turned to starboard to enter the marina channel. We literally crossed in front of the Gibraltar airport runway.

From our marina berth. The aeroplanes are massively loud!

It was kind of nice to see a little piece of Britain again. We promptly went out for some proper stodge food, a feed of fish and chips, steak and ale pie and some beer. A couple of Australians went to an Irish pub, were served by Spanish speakers, and ate English food.

Wandering around town, a little piece of Britain.

After our stodge, we realised a pretty big weight was lifting off our shoulders (and maybe adding to our bellies). The Orcas. There hasn’t been an “attack” east of Gibraltar for years, and from what we can tell, the Orcas are attacking boats in the north of Portugal at the moment anyway. As the weight lifted and lifted, we realised that Gibraltar would be a good place to actually rest for a while, decompress and get a few little jobs done.

We take a walk to “the Frontier” the airport track between Spain and Gibraltar. Yes this is people walking to Spain perpendicular to the runway.

We make our way to the roof top of the permanently docked hotel boat.

We find the chandlery, of course, wander around town and do some shopping, visit some nice wine bars and restaurants, and finally, we feel rested enough to actually visit “the rock”.

Up we go one sunny but windy morning to the top in the gondola and plan out a day looking around the rock.

Away is down there somewhere, next to the runway.

We meet the monkeys, Barbary macaques on the top. They are not interested in humans, unless you have a backpack or pram which they associate with food. We had neither, and so just observed from afar.

Walking on the top of the rock, we spy our first real view of the Mediterranean Sea. Oh my gosh we’re almost there!

As close as I was prepared to get to the Barbary macaques.

We walk down the hill a little to visit St. Michaels Cave and the angel inside. The formations were spectacular.

The angel. They have a fabulous light display going on highlighting all the rock formations.

After the cave, we wanted to see some of the tunnels. We we walking down hill a lot. Like, a lot. Maybe we don’t want to walk back up.

Ahhhhh, we were walking down hill so much, we decided we’d just keep walking down.

We walked down to the Siege tunnels, built around 1782 with the desire to reach a rock formation called “the notch” which they didn’t quite make it to. They also accidently blew a hole in the side of the rock, which happily provided much needed ventilation, and so this became a thing. Also because its good to poke canons out of.

One of the convenient holes. We completely neglected to take any photos of the actual canons. Oops.

Yes, this is the med, and I’m still looking longingly at it.

Next stop was the WW2 tunnels. Yes, there are so many tunnels in the rock its basically Swiss.

We were getting lower and lower, definitely not walking back up to catch the gondola at this point.

The famous Spitfire was shipped to Gibraltar in pieces and assembled. Kinda like Ikea furniture.

It was super fun visiting the rock. We were happy to have spent a bit of time here, recuperating and exploring. But now… It was time.

Leaving the marina in Gibraltar this plane conveniently landed to show how close we are to the runway.

We leave Gibraltar, fill up with some wildly cheap diesel, and turn left. Then left again, straight into the rising sun. East. To the Med!

Goodbye Rock! I’m off to warm, clear blue water that I can actually swim in because nothing really wants to eat me or sting me!

And we arrive, finally, in the Med. Our first Med mooring. Don’t worry, we get used to it and no one died and nothing broke.

We used to be almost the biggest boat in the marina. I guess we’re in the med now!

Orca Alley

October 7, 2025 / fiandadrian

After our rolly anchorage welcome to the Algarve, we decided to leave that morning and motor our way along the coast (there is still no wind) to see if any of the other anchorages were less rolly. We had a marina booking ready for the following night at Lagos, and a call to them confirmed that we could not come in earlier. Please please please let there be a less rolly anchorage. After looking in a few bays along the coast, and getting closer to Lagos, we reasoned that we’d either have to put up with another rolly night, or go past Lagos to a harbour, then the following day go back to Lagos.

Doesn’t look like the boat would roll around a lot, but once Away is stopped, she moves a lot in this. Its very uncomfortable and doesn’t give a good nights sleep.

Finally, about 10 nautical miles before Lagos, we found what appeared to be the least rolly place on this part of the coast. We gently went up and down the waves, and thought, good, we will get some sleep.

Then this happened.

So, we put up with another rolly night, and leave early to get into Lagos, to wait at their waiting pontoon until our berth became available.

Heading east into to Lagos, we experience the strong easterly winds that are causing all these waves. Finally in the approach channel for the marina, we experience the immense tourist traffic in the tight channel! A number of boats were hovering before the marina, due to the pedestrian bridge that needs to open to let them in, which means a lot of traffic, a tight channel, and a bow thruster that isn’t really working as well as it should, plus a cross wind wanting to push the bow around. Making a bold move around a tourist boat who we had no idea what they were doing, we just docked in the last available spot on the waiting pontoon. Phew. We were in. No one died.

We waited for about 5 hours while the motor boat in our berth had a long leisurely lunch and sank a few beers (Adrian went to see where our berth was). Finally, it was time to visit Lagos.

Lagos is a cool town, there is the old town area, plus the built up area around the marina with all sorts of restaurants and a constant stream of tourist boats promising the best day out at the local caves and grottos.

And we find a restaurant..

One of our favourite things to do. Yummy food.

We’d seen some of the famous caves and grottos from our trip in, and also from our walks, and it was particularly hot and windless. A trip to the pool was in order, leaving Bernie at home in the relative cool of our well insulated home.

After a few days of this, the wind finally was filled in enough for us to sail further down the coast and back to Spain.

We were looking forward to anchoring again, and had found some much more protected spots east along the coast from Lagos.

We had a nice sail into an anchorage near Faro, in a lagoon. We had been warned by the guide books that the tide can run quite fast in this lagoon. It was still very windy there, but flat calm water, and so we anchored next to another yacht, but still with plenty of space between us. Making some plans for the next day, sunset dinners were had, and then we heard a bit of a shout.

“Is there something wrong with your anchor???” shouted the boat next to us. Ummmm… no. But they did seem to suddenly be very close. Maybe there was something wrong with our anchor. More shouting conversations, before we agreed to chat on the radio.

Our neighbours were concerned because they thought their anchor was acting strangely and wanted to know if ours was. We were concerned because they seemed to be getting closer and closer to us, and as we were the last to anchor, it is up to us to move. Turns out they just wanted some moral support. Their boat was brand new, and they hadn’t had a lot of time anchored in super tidal areas, where the wind and tide make your anchor chain do weird things.

We stayed up for a while to make sure we didn’t hit them, or vice versa, then decided in fact this anchorage, whilst not rolly, was a bit annoying with the massive current and the wind still pumping.

We left.

We’re getting closer to the med, but also very very close now to “Orca Alley”, the place where most Orca “attacks” happen, so its still very much close to the coast travelling.

We skip along the coast to Mazagon for a couple of nights and some beach time, then on to Cadiz.

We entered Cadiz port at the same time as a modest cruise ship. We won the race to the dock with pilot boat ensuring suitable separation between our vessels

Cadiz had a wonderful old town, but to be honest, to get there was like walking through the movie set for 28 days later or other similar end of the world zombie movie. No people, rotting buildings, the occasional stray cat, stuff everywhere, flying rubbish and sunny and dry.

Bernie’s history lesson…his second favourite time of day

But the old town was worth it.

Keen to get past the orcas and to water that had more swimming potential we travelled to Barbate, and I almost adopted a new friend.

As we approached Barbate tidal overfalls appeared across our path

The overfalls were modest by Channel standards but enough to appear on radar

You could join us…but there is a spaniel….

Finally, after saying good bye to my little friend, we were on the home stretch of orcas, and coming into Gibraltar.

This is what our track looks like following the 20m contour around Portugal and Spain to avoid meeting the Orcas

Is the water warmer round the corner?

September 10, 2025 / fiandadrian

We left Nazare and didn’t quite have enough wind to sail if we wanted to get to Cascais before dark. The now familiar headland wind boost provided us with one short opportunity to sail before we dropped anchor at Cascais.

The sun tried to burn through the fog which is so common along this coast where the warm moist air meets the almost frozen ocean

By the time we left the harbour wall at Nazare, it was looking like a good day to practice our radar skills

The radar alerted us to other vessels stupid enough to be at sea in the fog and any larger icebergs, but the real danger were the pot buoys that can be difficult to spot even on clear days. These are designed to disable passing yachts and even fishing vessels. They result in a significant number of lifeboat call outs. They usually have a flag, but we have seen everything from soccer balls (Cornwall) to toilet floats or plastic milk bottles (Norway). The French set them in middle of shipping channels, in Norway they can be in 100-200m depth, in strong tidal areas they can be dragged under the surface by the current and some can have many meters of loose rope drifting from them. Others just appear to be a small stick upright in the water. Some in Portugal have lovely smaller floats between them, suspending a big fishing net 50m across, right where yachts want to traverse.

We would typically like to be miles out at sea to avoid fishing gear, but the spicy Orcas in this part of the world tend to eat boats out there, so we balance our risk, and follow the advice to stick close to the coast, and just keep a really good watch for the fishing gear, and fishing boats, and paddleboarders and kayakers, and surfers etc etc etc.

Standard pot buoy marker in this part of the world

The all white version version designed for foggy conditions

A little harder to spot with the sun behind it

Many have a rope attached to another float to ensure a passing propellor will be fouled

Why bother with a flag when a decaying bit of polystyrene will do?

Is it a pot or is it a bird? My second favourite is when you spot a pot ahead, change course and then notice that it has spread its wings and taken off. But the best is when you don’t change course after identify a flock of birds, and they all take off leaving an non-bird pot just off the bow.

The main risk with these pot buoys is getting the rope tangled around the prop when motoring. Some have nylon rope which can melt when tangled on a turning prop making removal even more challenging. Under sail we could get them caught on a rudder but are unlikely to snag them on the centreboard or feathered prop. Removal from a fouled prop in any sort of swell would be a hazardous task and our favoured option would be to sail to calmer waters before clearing the prop.

The fog clears enough to reveal the rocky coastline. Hmm yes, calmer waters.

Cascais was a quick stop in the anchorage and a re-stock at the supermarket. We have already visited Lisbon by road so we keep heading south to a beautiful shallow bay near a national park.

Sun rays light up the headland next morning

There is a convent on the hill, a cave with an ancient alter in the rocks and oh so inviting turquoise water…

Not much wind, but the water is beautiful when we leave across the the shallow sandy bay

The next day nice sunny sailing weather quickly turns to damp foggy motoring weather before we emerge at Sines (pronounced “Sinesh”), home of the great Vasco da Gamo. Vasco is credited with finding the sea route from Portugal to India, opening up trade and bringing prosperity.

Vasco still stands in the town gazing out to sea

We too gaze out to sea, whilst reading the menu and sipping a glass of fine Portuguese wine

After some enjoyment in Sines, it was time to brave the last of the Atlantic swell, and head south, and then east around the corner towards the Algarve area of Portugal. We had heard that once you turn the corner, the air temperature jumps by 10 degrees.

A more reasonable amount of fog today adding highlights to the coastal landscapes

We approach Cabo de Sao Vicente, the most south westerly point of Europe, although its neither the most southerly nor the most westerly. Go figure. It was probably also the end of the known universe at some stage and is also described in the review as ‘always windy’… just not today. Its just giving us the finger as we approach.

The south coast was happy to see us as we were to see it! The prevailing northerly wind is now coming over the land and temperatures instantly increase 10 degrees…but is it warm enough to swim?

The intrepid dangle a wetsuitless leg in to test if water temperatures have risen above ‘numb in 3 seconds’. Some of us complete the first circumnavigation of the boat!

We found a nice, but slightly rolly anchorage to stay in at Sagres, right on the westerly corner of Portugal. We didn’t go ashore, as by the morning the swell coming in was almost violent. Instead we traversed along the south coast, marvelling at the Algarve cliffs and beaches to another anchorage.

With the warmer temperatures come the crowds…we have reached the party in the Algarve.

Next time we discover the Algarve and the final approach to the Med…

Surfing the Portuguese coastline

August 30, 2025 / fiandadrian

Leaving Porto we stay close to the coast. Its unusual for us as we prefer relax a bit further off the coast where the wind is often more consistent, there is less fishing gear to avoid and less hard bits to hit. But along this coast the local orcas have a habit of breaking yacht rudders and staying in shallow water has been shown to reduce the risk of meeting them.

It looks a long way but we were usually only a mile or two from the beach

First stop Aveiro. We heard the Port Authority on the VHF radio chastise the yacht at in front for not calling the port before entry, and quickly announced ourselves on the radio. The current runs hot along the channel and we guess they want to be extra careful with commercial shipping entering the ports narrow channel. Most other ports ignore us if we call.

Aveiro has a canal system for moving tourists around the town in cute gondolas with large four stroke outboards.

Washing window is usually hung out the window

Tiles. All tiles and more tiles. There are also flamingos here, but we just saw pigeons.

We had a good sail down the coast to Figueira da Foz, but the wind finally died to 7 knots as we approached the last headland. WE motored as it was only 30 minutes to the port entrance. Suddenly we had 17 knots again and up went the staysail. But it was 25 knots by the time the sail was set, and then 30 knots and time for another reef in the main and then 35 knots and our 30 minute trip was down to 10 minutes as we sped across the bay. We saw 40 knots before the wind dropped away to 2 knots at the harbour entrance. An educational way to finish the day.

The winds increasing. Should be a great sail across the bay..

15 seconds later it was looking a little busier. We didn’t manage to take any more photos after this one.

Figueira was a popular beach resort with several beaches to choose from. We stocked up at the local market and headed south.

Of the top 11 biggest waves ever surfed (all greater than 70 feet), 8 were surfed at Nazare. Maybe Away could catch a wave at the point and break our speed record.

Our chart gave a clue as what made the huge waves. There is a huge canyon system just off the coast that funnels Atlantic swells onto Nazare.

Alas all was flat at the take-off point today

We decided to take the funicular up the hill to the Big Wave museum on a warm sunny day.

Riding the funicular, Bernie got his own special dog place,

But he complained that he should have a full person chair on the way back down, so Fi explained the options to him…

The view back along to the beach to the north. When we sailed along the coast we could see people on their surf safaris parking their modern day combi vans at all the best breaks.

A few streets back from the main beach we came across a cafe making simple fresh food.

The local cat community saw Bernie coming and kept a low profile

Our prevailing northerly wind was not forecast to return for a week so we decided to visit Lisbon by road and managed to hire a car for the trip.

First stop the picturesque hill top town Obidos

Coach loads of tourists, but also quiet lanes away from the main streets

We took the opportunity for a posh meal in Lisbon…suitably shiny

Bernie spotted a yellow funicular and wondered if he could have a real person seat?

Lisbon had a different feel to Porto. A little more formal perhaps.

People were queuing to go into this strange looking building so we took a picture of it.

When it got too hot to sight see, we found the hotel gave us access to next doors pool…

As the temperature fell, we watched the sunset over Lisbon with a glass of wine and a belligerent spaniel who just wanted to go home

On the trip back to Nazare, Fi navigated us through smaller and smaller villages until we came upon a winery on a hill

Next time we return to Nazare and discover if the wind has returned…

Vianna do Castello – Porto

August 28, 2025 / fiandadrian

We left Baiona for the short hop into Portugal. First stop Viana do Castelo.

New country smile! Neither of us had been to Portugal.

As we approached the breakwater at Viana do Castelo we could see all these pretty kites racing up and down on the other side. We had little wind, but on the other side there was a concerning amount of breeze fueling a very active wind sports community.

A little way along the river the wind had largely died at the visitors pontoon.

By coincidence, our handstand teacher from Newtown in Australia was living in Viana do Castelo and he suggested discovering an old monastery in the surrounding hills.

It didn’t take Bernie long to find the ruins

As we were staying for a few days to meet up with our Newtown friends we moved Away to the inner harbour, next to a big white ship that was now a museum. The Gil Eannes had served as a hospital and resupply ship to the Portuguese cod fishing fleet in the North Atlantic.

They were lucky to have such a good looking boat parked next door

The Gil Eannes had wards for sick mariners, sick officers, contagious people as well as a lab, an operating theatre and even an x-ray room.

We visited our handstand teacher and tried not to mention how few handstands we have done since leaving Sydney (he’s the older one)

Next stop Porto. We arrived at dusk and found ourselves a parking spot in a marina that largely served tourist boats and the large river cruising boats that ply the inland waterways.

All the streets in Porto are steep leading down to the river. We managed to photograph the only flat one…

A half day tour from Porto took us to the Duoro valley, a famous wine making region.

The scenery was spectacular and the architecture distinctly Portuguese, but the aridness and gum trees reminded us of Australia. Portugal took gum trees from Australia in the 19th century for pulp production and they are now a common sight. We may have neglected to mention how well they burn and they now have a significant bush fire problem, or a market for bush fire expertise depending on how you look at it.

We visited a small (7000 bottle a year) vineyard that had been in the family for 6 generations. They only supplied to a few local restaurants and Australian tourists who enthusiastically sample way too much wine.

If you happen to be there at the right time of year you can help crush the grapes in these stone tubs putting your own personal stamp on the vintage.

How often do you get to hug the man who makes your wine? He spoke no English and we no Portuguese but we soon connected over google translate and a little vinho tinto

Back in Porto we visit one of the street BBQ restaurants in the old town where stern old ladies grill your lunch in the midday heat.

We were told by a local that Porto is the true heart of Portugal, and Lisbon is more part of Africa. Next time we discover if is Lisbon’s heritage for ourselves and we search for big waves in Nazare…

Yummy Barnacles

July 25, 2025 / fiandadrian

On a grey afternoon, we gingerly turned to port and entered the quaint town of Ribadesella, past the unexpected smells of eucalypt, and into a tight channel at mid tide.

We’d left Santander early that morning and enjoyed a largely downwind sail along the coast to Ribadesella a small town hidden behind hills and famed for its caves. There is an active kayak club here providing a regular procession of racing kayaks training on the river. So much so, they have built a statue to honour the fame that the kayakers have given the town. The town was was more vibrant and less faded than some of the Basque towns we had visited.

The river entrance at Ribadesella is in the dip in the coast line in the centre of the picture

There was a warning sign about Sirens which were not mentioned in our sailing guide. Fortunately we had not encountered them.

Bernie wanted to venture up the river to see the scenery which was spectacular. With more time we might have enjoyed a canoe trip further up the river. Local companies transport canoes a few kms upriver so you can drift down the gavel races and soak up the scenery.

We soon worked out this symbol meant good seafood ahead.

And we didn’t need to go far to find this fine paella

A long hop along the coast took us to Ribadeo. Drama increased in the last few miles with a sudden sharp increase in wind, pot buoys spotted just under the water with no markers, a rolly river entry and arriving in the marina just on dark.

We explored the towns narrow stone lane ways whilst waiting for favourable winds.

After a day or so, we decided we were keen to start the Spanish Ria’s, rivers with huge bays, white sand beaches and clear blue water. The air temperature began to creep up, with temperatures in the high 20s. That water looks so tempting. A quick check with some toes after anchoring confirmed that we would need full wetsuits to even attempt it.

Next stop was Ria de Viveiro and a beautiful sandy beach

Before leaving the next morning we enjoyed a run on the beach

This section of coastline is wild and spectacular. This was one of the first sails we shared with a number of other yachts all heading for the same port: Cedeira. All the other boats crowded close around the dinghy landing dock, but Away’s new dinghy allowed a quieter anchorage at the other end of the bay.

A Coruna was a short hop away and we had arranged for a number of deliveries to arrive at the marina.

The latest fashion in sailing boots had arrived, ready for the fashion conscious Mediterranean

We celebrated (almost) turning south with a rather posh meal.

The maxi Scallywag of Sydney-Hobart fame arrives in A Coruna enroute to the Fastnet race. Fi gave them a few tips.

We visited the vet for a checkup and to update our meds for the local nasties. They told us that tonight was the mid-year festival and everyone would be on the beach celebrating most of the night. We thought we had better see for ourselves:

At midnight the major fire was lit by the mayor accompanied by a short fireworks display

By this stage we realised (some of us in particular) were significantly increasing the average age of those on the beach

So we retired to the parents viewing gallery as the party really kicked off.

After getting most of our packages, and getting the familiar feeling we were staying too long, we decided that for the other packages for which Fi was fighting with Spanish customs, we would just travel up later by land once the war was won.

The quaint town of Corme, and its protected anchorage was our next stop. The weather was grey again, and we felt a little more like we were back north, with cold water and grey skies. The cold water in this area means fog is a common occurrence.

The gulls welcomed us into the harbour, just as the fog was blanketing us.

We awoke the next day to hot sunny weather! Doesn’t do anything for the water temperature though, so a wetsuit was require for a swim to the beach.

So with swimming on hold still until we turn the corner into the Mediterranean, we head south to round Cape Finisterre. The cape used to be the end of the known world. We saw many Camino’s staring at us from the lighthouse. The Camino trail, also known as “The Way” is a series of walks across Spain, originally for religious pilgrims. A lot of people stop at the Cathedral in Santiago, however many also continue to what the Spanish at the time believed was the end of the world, or this headland.

The wind accelerated as we rounded the Cape gusting into the 30s. We made a fine sight reefed down and carving through the white caps at over 8 knots.

We tacked upwind, rescuing beach toys blowing across the bay and anchored in view of the Cape Finisterre lighthouse (off a white sandy beach).

Next day we were blown further south to another white sandy beach near Muros. The new dinghy meant we had the bay to ourselves as other boats anchored much closer to town.

Most of the towns have old narrow stone lanes with very little traffic

We discovered the local delicacy: percebes or goose barnacles. They are harvested from the local rocks by daring young men who rush out to collect them between sets of Atlantic breakers, and priced appropriately.

Islands at the entrance to the Rias provide protection from the Atlantic swell. Clouds hang over the islands when the air cooled by the Atlantic rises.

Beaches on Spain’s Atlantic coast: Umbrellas because its hot and everyone needs some colour in their lives; Wading up to the knees because thats far enough to cool the whole body and cause a modicum of numbness; Walking – as its too cold for swimming there is a section of beach next to the water reserved for walking.

Our final deliveries made it to A Coruna so we made a pilgrimage via the Santiago cathedral to pick them up

This is Fi’s evidence that she finally won the war with Spanish customs (and some very cold water)

The Spanish authorities first boarded us in Santander. Then in Cedeira, then A Coruna, then Ribeira and Bueu. After the first time they give you a piece of blue paper that you can flash at the fast approaching rib full of black vested masked officers, and the now disappointed officers go in search of other victims.

Vigo was big enough to take cruise ships and the second morning we awoke to a new skyline as a small town arrived. We visited some of the less touristy areas.

An afternoon sea breeze took us to our last stop in the Rias: Baiona.

The headland overlooking the marina, several white sandy beaches and the old town has ancient stone battlements encompassing a slightly more recent hotel. If only you could swim in that water…

In our next blog, we turn red to port.

Cruising Again

June 24, 2025 / fiandadrian

By Adrian, and a little Fi.

While the boat work was completing we surveyed the map and realized there was a long distance with few ports to the south of us before we crossed the Spanish border. We needed to absorb some more Frenchness before Spain so chose to go up the river to Rochefort, a few miles south of La Rochelle.

The river was lined with little mens sheds on stilts over the river

They must be fit around here: there was a trampoline outside each shed

There were a few small runabouts and sailing boats in the river, but we were surprised when this came around the corner. There are some quite narrow sections and only enough depth to navigate the river at high tide.

We went under the bridge with a suspended platform attached to a small train. The platform can just be seen parked on the left hand side.

We returned to the bridge by paw and foot the next day

And took a ride on the suspended platform across the river

When we left Rochefort, we found the platform mid stream!

After a trip to the Rochefort markets we decided to have picnic beside the river.

Rochefort was a large navy boat yard in a bygone era and the restored buildings and parks along the river make an attractive picnic spot.

There was a mussel shack right next to Rocheport harbour where we absorbed some Frenchness

Simple fresh food, well cooked and slurped down with a local vintage

After a few days relaxing in Rochefort we headed out into Biscay and turned south. Thirty six hours later we found ourselves in Saint Jean-de-Luz, one of the last French towns before the border. The town was a delightful fusion of Basque and French.

Dolphins accompanied us on the trip. We even saw some darting about in the bioluminescence at night.

We parked off the beach. We called the marina to see if we could go in, but he said they didn’t have enough space. Google Translate is really helping us in these less international touristy areas. We visited the marina, and yeah, even if they had a berth, we wouldn’t have fit. But its lovely being on anchor.

Next stop was San Sebastian in Basque country. With a mountainous backdrop and statue on a hill next to the town it looked quite different to the French side of the border.

We managed to snuggle into the little harbour right next to the old town. Going in it was a quick judgement call if we would fit past the large tourist boat without scratching them, or ourselves on the large rock wall. It was tight.

The local ferries had just enough room to squeeze past us if we held our breath

The old town before the tourists arrived

We tried our first Spanish dishes on a fabulous foodie tour where we learned all about Basque food and local wine and cider. Coming home with a proper tool to pour the local wine and cider too!

We met some lovely new friends on our foodie tour celebrating a big birthday (Happy Birthday again F!) and had them over for some drinks on Away to discuss all things travel and fun.

Visited the statue who was having a clean

And enjoyed the views across the bay, and went running around the beach. There are so many eucalypt trees here it smells like home.

An evening was spent on a walking tour of the bars in the old town.

After way to many pintxos (small dishes like tapas), we decided to navigate the tight exit from the marina, and head back out to open waters towards Bilbao. When we arrived, the beaches were absolutely packed! Once tucked in to the marina, we enjoyed a bite to eat. The following day we took the metro into the town centre for a look around at the markets and the old town, after giving the dog a walk. We’ve discovered whilst there are a lot of dogs in Spain, the transport and shops are not as dog friendly as Cornwall.

We headed along the rugged coast line to Bilbao

The famous spider was patrolling outside the Guggenheim museum

And took the inevitable selfie with the flowery puppy.

Our next hop was to the port of Laredo where there was a large modern marina.

We saw a quite a few walkers heading west along the beach. One of them seemed to be carry beads in her hand, and we realized we must be on one of the many Camino tails heading to Santiago. The Caminos were easy to spot with their mid sized back packs, clam shells and walking sticks. We have seen lots of them at the ports along the north Spanish coast.

Our new (super fast comfy) dinghy took us across the bay to Santona, where we found this we found this unusual circular building.

Looks like the men play dress ups in this building

There is a circular headland walk from Santona that was described as fairly level unless you choose to go down the steps to the light house. We agreed after seeing the lighthouse as we headed along the coast.

Bernie is getting a bit old for stairs these days, so we had to make do with a restaurant with a view instead.

The Spanish sunsets were worth capturing

Some light afternoon wind allowed us to get the big red sail out and head around to Santander, where we parked off a white sandy beach amid the Sunday afternoon water sports.

The next day a beautiful red boat appeared with an Aussie flag and a friendly g’day. The aussie couple had been living on their boat for many years sailing the med. It was an absolute delight to hear that familiar accent saying G’Day at the stern. We enjoyed coffee and food and great chats about cruising.

We now find ourselves out of Basque country and so the Basque flag is stowed, and the Spanish flag raised. We get to Ribadesella after a quick sail of 25m along the coast. We needed to time the tide right again as Ribadesella is a little bit of a tricky town to moor in.

More on Ribadesella next time. And yeah, I (Fi) apparently have no idea of how that’s pronounced correctly given the poor marina staff had no idea who I was calling on the radio as we entered.

Racing to La Rochelle

May 21, 2025 / fiandadrian

The daffodils poked their heads through the winter grey and Away’s haul out date in La Rochelle began looming, now only weeks away. We finally broke the dock inertia and a rather active ecosystem that seems determined to attach Aways hull to the dock.

Leaving Falmouth, our first destination for the season was Guernsey to pick up our new outboard engine. Away loped along the now familiar Cornish coast under big red and into Salcombe, our jump off point for another Channel crossing.

We arrive in Salcombe and find our mooring buoy as the last vestiges of a very fresh spring day disappeared below the waves. To our relief no one was surfing the Salcombe bar today.

We had sold our dinghy over winter so the Salcombe water taxi provided a convenient way to get ashore for a final English pint. Good winds and a spritely sea were forecasted for our channel crossing to Guernsey.

Bernie confirmed the sporty conditions by being sea sick for only the second time in 5 years on a boat. Despite the sunshine it was still 5 layers cold.

We had been across the Channel enough now that the big ships went around us without Fi’s instructions, but a fishing boat ignored our radio calls. When the coast guard called them to ask their intentions as they were on a collision course with yacht Away, it turned out they were listening to the radio after all…

Instead of looming out of the sea as we approached, Guernsey hid behind a blanket of haze. We were only a mile off the coast when the rocks and lighthouses appeared. A quick count of the wrecks marked on the chart suggested this may well be a normal phenomenon.

Guernsey harbour had read our blog post about their inadequate cleats. Over the winter they had upgraded two of the pontoons, now proudly displaying this enhanced cleatage.

Our new outboard engine turned up at the dock. A kilogram lighter and almost double the power of the last one…its amazing how far technology has moved on.

Its a long day trip to Roscoff so we left at a scary o’clock.

This guy hitched a ride. Even came inside for a while until a large spaniel pointed out it wasn’t a suitable nesting spot for a small bird.

First new country of the year, but no signs of summer weather yet. Perhaps that’s a suitable nesting site?

A day off in Roscoff was spent sorting out formalities and croissants.

We set out again into a misty morning to drift further down the French coast on the tide

The coast line here is a tad rocky with an appropriate number of lighthouses to highlight the dangers

We stopped in Aber Wrac’h expecting everything to be closed on a lazy Sunday afternoon. To our surprise there were many restaurants open and decided it would be rude not to sample the local oysters. Finally, that’s a hat not designed to keep me warm!

We had a good forecast for a trip round the westerly tips of France. These can be a little tricky with tides running upward of 5 knots. We timed the first one perfectly, but approaching Pointe du Raz we notice we are going 1 knot sideways rather than 5 knots forwards. A yacht coming the other way was going 11 knots under engine and appeared to be airborne much of the time. Our review uncovered that the tidal flows are different on the chartplotter to the flows on iPad chart, which are different again to guide book. The guide book seems closest to reality so we retired to a local beach for an hour whilst we hoped the tidal flow would subside.

An hour later and we rounded the headland in quiet waters and headed for Audierne a few miles down the coast. In the morning we were welcomed to the marina, advised about local facilities, told about good dog walks and bike rides and advised to pay when when we knew how long we were staying. There was a market at the end of the pontoon and restaurants surrounding the harbour. If we didn’t have a deadline this would be an easy place to stay.

We had a ‘Bernie day’ and walked up the river to the next town, Pont Croix, and back.

Audierne showing signs summer is around the corner.

The next day we were back on the water. This ‘boat’ appeared out of the distance turned around us and flew back down the coast. It was unclear if they just wanted some sailing tips or thought we were stationary enough to use as a turning mark.

Bernie did his sunrise leaving dance after an overnight pit stop on anchor at the Isles des Glenan

With continued good conditions we decided to make some miles down the coast using all the daylight and bit extra. We anchored at Ile d’Yeu late in the dark but were on the move again the next morning. The closer we got to La Rochelle the more yachts we saw. It was a holiday weekend and it was great to see so many boats enjoying the conditions.