It was comforting to travel alongside another French boat when we left the misty shores of Baiona at the break of day on Wednesday. Of course Patrice tried to call him on the VHF looking for someone to talk to :-)
It’s funny how my brain works sometimes. While quickly glancing through our guidebook on Portugal a few days ago, I read that Porto was the 2nd largest city in the country. Call me a romantic (or perhaps just plain stupid), but somehow my imagination refused to register the word ‘city’ and I continued to picture the place as a quaint village with locals stomping grapes to produce Port Wine, or Porto, of my favorite beverages.
My brain did get a bit of a shock when we arrived here late afternoon yesterday as it is indeed a large metropolis complete with a very large shipping port, refineries and even an IKEA! I was delighted however, to see that this city which lies along shores of the river Douro retains some 'old village' charm. Our marina is located just inside the mouth of the river and I knew I was really going to like it here when a strapping young representative from the marina office came zooming out of the port in his Zodiac to guide us into our berth. We followed his lead and by the time we arrived at our appointed spot, he was on the dock waiting for me to throw him our mooring lines--what bliss!
My brain did get a bit of a shock when we arrived here late afternoon yesterday as it is indeed a large metropolis complete with a very large shipping port, refineries and even an IKEA! I was delighted however, to see that this city which lies along shores of the river Douro retains some 'old village' charm. Our marina is located just inside the mouth of the river and I knew I was really going to like it here when a strapping young representative from the marina office came zooming out of the port in his Zodiac to guide us into our berth. We followed his lead and by the time we arrived at our appointed spot, he was on the dock waiting for me to throw him our mooring lines--what bliss!
I must clarify here for those of you who have never sailed, that coming onto a mooring (or dock) is the most stressful part of sailing for me. Patrice is usually at the helm at this point and he’s pretty good at this, but the wind, the current and the fact that boats don’t have brakes (!) all contribute to making this a challenge each time we do this. While he maneuvers the boat, I scurry around dragging onto an enormous rubber fender ready to use to cushion our boat from anything we might inadvertently bump into. This is called being a ‘roving fender.’ At the same time, I have the mooring lines (ropes that tie our boat to the dock) ready in my other hand and if there is no one on shore to catch them, I have to jump off the boat (ouch!) and attach them myself. Now do you understand why I just loved this guy? And he was awfully cute to boot!
As you have deduced by now, we made it safely here on our long passage from Baiona: 10 hours and 65 nautical miles. The cruise (I say 'cruise', not sail, because we motored all the way due to a complete lack of wind) was pleasant and made difficult only by a bit of fog at the start of our trip and the need for constant vigilance the whole way to avoid the hundreds of fishing buoys found in this part of the Atlantic. Of note were the ghostly mists which hugged the coast of Spain as we left early in the morning and the dolphins came and said hello to us twice; once when Patrice was at the helm and another time when I was on duty. Very considerate of them, don’t you think? Worth a mention as well, Patrice tried his new fishing rod (nicknamed Rodney) for the first time. Nothing came of it this time, but with perseverance and practice, we hope to be eating fresh caught tuna very soon (don't worry I have lots of the canned stuff just in case ;-)
As you have deduced by now, we made it safely here on our long passage from Baiona: 10 hours and 65 nautical miles. The cruise (I say 'cruise', not sail, because we motored all the way due to a complete lack of wind) was pleasant and made difficult only by a bit of fog at the start of our trip and the need for constant vigilance the whole way to avoid the hundreds of fishing buoys found in this part of the Atlantic. Of note were the ghostly mists which hugged the coast of Spain as we left early in the morning and the dolphins came and said hello to us twice; once when Patrice was at the helm and another time when I was on duty. Very considerate of them, don’t you think? Worth a mention as well, Patrice tried his new fishing rod (nicknamed Rodney) for the first time. Nothing came of it this time, but with perseverance and practice, we hope to be eating fresh caught tuna very soon (don't worry I have lots of the canned stuff just in case ;-)
So we’re moored up here for at least the next four days or so to explore the area. I’m determined to find some vineyards and maybe some grape stompers or at the very least some places to do some Porto tasting. Before I sign off, I must add that this marina, which is brand new and perhaps is just really trying to make a good impression on its first customers, got even more kudos from us when they delivered fresh bread to our boat this morning--that’s a first!
The view of the Ponte Arrabida from our new home/berth in Porto, Portugal.
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