Suddenly we realised we had been in the Rias Biaxas ( southern rias ) for a year! We had fallen head over heels for the places and people of Gallicia. We would certainly return.
However as we attemted to leave our berth I discovered a problem. We seemed to have no power, as we crawled away from the pontoons at a knot or so I wondered if our propellor had fallen off! As we crawled out into the bay a couple of scenarios occurred. One, the fishing line we had picked up in Ria Arousa had not been cleared completely or two, crustaceans in the form of small limpets etc. Had taken up home in the gears of our folding prop. This seemed a more likely scenario. As we inched down the ria the wind obligingly filled and we could make a respectable speed towards Baiona.
This above is what Lynne refers to as my "thinking face", shes not very keen on it!
After anchoring in Baionas breezy harbour we went ashore in search of a wetsuit as diving under the boat to inspect and clear the problem was preferable to the expense of hauling the boat out. Self sufficiency is the cruisers philosophy of choice. The wetsuit hunt proved useless as we had seemingly arrived the day after a fiesta and only one of the two chandlers was open and they only had ladies sizes. Lynne was understandably adamant she was not volunteering, diving under Dark Tarn with 10 tons of steel overhead is actually fairly intimidating and unpleasant. As a trial and initial inspection upon our return to DT I dived to fix a rope from gunwhale to gunwhale to enable me to pull myself to the prop. The prop itself was indeed infested with sealife, we had relied on the fact it is bronze and just polished it when we anti fouled the boat. This had proven to be a mistake. I also tried to unfold the prop without gloves, as I bled all over the cockpit from the numerous cuts to my hand this also proved to be a mistake!
The day after armed with gloves and a wire brush with a vicious scraper attached I once more plunged into the chilly water. Suffice to say I got the job done and to Lynnes immense relief got back on board with a minimum of shell cuts.
The following day we raised anchor and after a small trial all seemed to be working well with our propellor which was happily folding and unfolding again. We left the Ria finally and set course for Viana do Castelo in Portugal about 40 miles away.
The wind filled in through the day and we decided to run under just a genoa ( front sail ) as the wind was northerly and we were on a fine run most of the day. Dark Tarn barreled along at 5-6 knots under this reduced rig and a 40 ft German Hanse that left the Ria shortly after us remained in sight all day and only caught up with us at the river entrance.
The entrance turned out to be a bit exciting, the German boat with six crew cut right across our bows as we turned into the channel supposedly to drop his main, the wind was blowing 25-30 knots and a small container ship and tug along with numerous kitesurfers were crowding the channel up river. I silently cursed the ignorance and arrogance of the whole German race as we struggled to ready lines and fenders for the tricky entrance to the marina about a mile up the river. Lynne called ahead and as we approached the waiting pontoon was filled with yachts rafted two deep so the German Hanse and us played ring a roses in the 2 knot stream outside the entrance until the footbridge guarding the entrance was swung aside.
More delays inside as we were forced to stooge around in the strong wind as the by now obviously fully crewed Hanse was helped to moor mediteranean style ( stern to on a sunken bow line ) we decided to stay well away from him and moored up on the end as the only places were to his windward and we didnt want to touch him. We are not used to this style of mooring as it is more suited to places with very little tide. However we did not disgrace ourselves despite the strongly gusting wind and Lynnes unfamiliarity with the line arrangement. She did a great job and with the help of Carlos the marinero we were soon secured.
We must have been doing something right because just as we were getting settled a couple from the posh fitness centre overlooking our little basin came to ask to borrow some long ropes to help control a sign they were strggling to put up in the wind.
We were glad to oblige but were sceptical of the ten minutes they said it would take and sure enough they were still at it when we returned from the booking in procedure in the marina office. The photo shows the swinging bridge and waiting pontoon.
We decided that it would be nice to stay the weekend as we had heard that it was a lovely town. We were a little concerned at the cost as the marina isnt cheap but Carlos discovered we had shrunk to below 10 metres overnight and offered us a reasonable rate for our stay. After something to eat we ventured into town.
We found one of the churches that Carlos had recommended as being " very beautiful ". As he had mentioned it didnt look very church like from the outside. The old town was full of restaurants but no open shops or very many cafe bars........we were in Portugal and a whole different culture as well as language awaited.
We returned to Dark Tarn after a beer or two and retired to bed.
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