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