Another long day at sea in transit, some 75 miles, from Povoa da Varsim to Figueria da Foz (FGF). The weather, as we’ve come to expect on this trip, is light winds, but now mostly from the north as the trade winds are now beginning to dominate. We raised the main sail in the harbour at Povoa, really because it helps to stabilise the rolling motion somewhat in the Atlantic swells, rather than any expectation of actual sailing. Occasionally, when the wind increases a little, it gives us some extra push too.

Under engine all day, keeping above our target speed of six knots meant we could be in the new harbour before sunset. Periodically during the day, the wind does pick up and we enjoy some speeds up to eight knots with sail and engine combined. 

Sailing along the Atlantic coast of Europe, the sea swells are quite a bit bigger than for example the Solent. In the bottom of the swell, between two waves you almost lose sight of the land and other nearby vessels; on the crest of the wave, you can see much further. The main challenge on a long motoring day is spotting lobster pots. These are laid much like a blanket minefield, from close inshore to some five plus miles out in 75m water depth. Some pots are better marked than others, but usually there is a small coloured flag mounted on a stick about three feet long on a piece of polystyrene float to mark their presence. Not quite needle in a haystack, but it’s that kind of thing.

Why are we bothered about lobster pots then? We’re not the kind of pirates who haul and recover other peoples’ lobsters. What we’re concerned about is catching the ropes which secure them to the seabed in our propeller, turning it and the engine from a propulsion machine into a winch. The result is usually just a quick stop of the boat and the engine stalling, rather than bringing the pot to the surface. We have a rope-cutter on the propeller shaft which should deal with these things, but you never can be sure. Once a boat is properly snagged though with several turns of rope around the shaft, often the only option is to put someone over the side with a knife to dive under the boat and cut it free. This is pretty straightforward in calm waters, but when the swell is nearly as high as a house, it’s more of a challenge. Spotting pots then is a vitally important job for the watch keepers on deck and requires constant vigilance. 

After nearly 12 hours underway then yesterday, we arrived in FGF. We moored smartly alongside the marina reception and got all our papers checked, forms filled in etc. We were directed then to choose between a couple of berths not far from the office. We motored around as directed, but the options were really too small for a boat four and a half meters wide and fifteen long. We made an aborted attempt on one, but could not squeeze ourselves in without doing some damage, either to ourselves or another boat, and went in search of a better option. Where we ended up was in a berth for a boat about half our size with a cats cradle of lines aimed to keep us more or less stable overnight - thank goodness there was no wind. 

Thankfully, today dawned sunny with light winds. We changed berth and just took ‘ownership' of a stretch of pontoon, normally reserved for super yachts, and, in the nicest possible way, ‘informed’ the harbour master that that is where we would stay. He saw reason thankfully, or perhaps myself and Nigel in front of him with stern-looking faces and about to brook no nonsense after his directions and the debacle of the previous night. 

So, today, since securing our new, and much more fitting berth, we’ve managed to get ashore for some food shopping and, much more importantly some delicious tapas, cold beer and wine. This is much more like it.

The picture below gives you a little sense of the size of swell (taken from the crest) but this lobster pot marker is actually quite close, but appears for only a few seconds at a time between swells!

Simon