Birds of a Feather

One of the N Atlantic's stranger fish, the Sunfish, in Ribadesella

There's probably no need to point out that the forecast didn't hold true, so we didn't make the Bordeaux run. In general, the forecasts have been highly unreliable along this stretch of coast, possibly owing to the presence of the Picos de Europa just inland. A couple of days after our previous post, we picked up a fresh grib file, hoping to find conditions still fair for the Gironde. The wind direction was still ok, but the strength was up a bit - to gale force for a time - but the main problem was the sea state. Swell up to 3.5m, which might not be fun on the infamous inner Biscay coast.

Great hedge, lousy tasting maracuja

Ribadesella: nice beach and snug harbour

The swell would also make egress from Ribadesella impossible, so we decided to make a dash for Santander, 60 NM along the coast. The screenshot below shows what the forecast, from just 24 hours earlier, predicted. Light southerlies, eventually picking up from the west. What we experienced at that time was a F5 easterly. Impossible! We diverted to San Vicente de la Barquera - exactly half way. The one good thing about the wind was that it forced us out on a long tack into deep water where we saw a pod of dolphins for the first time since Ares.

How it should have been

The weather-disturbing Picos de Europa

On to Cantabria

The pilot book made San Vicente sound pretty unappetising and the photo they used, taken near low tide with the river in spate, made the entrance look a nightmare so it was something of a last resort. In fact it was nothing like its representation. The entrance was a dawdle at 4 hours before high water and inside, though tight for space, it was pretty and well-sheltered and a friendly local directed us to an unused mooring. 'No problem, here!', he said. Well, we figured we were in for a few days of R&R and, though tired, inflated the canoe and scrubbed the mooring lines clean so that next day all we'd have to do was kick back and relax.

No, thanks. The South Biscay Pilot's view of S Vicente

Night was falling when the first indication came that something unusual was happening. A squawky bird sound, not unlike our old friends the cagarros, encountered in the Azores and Islas Desertas. I looked out, expecting to see something nice. Instead I was astonished to see the boat on the next mooring - that of the friendly local - was totally festooned in roosting Little Egrets. Every shroud, every halyard, in short everything they could possibly cling to. Sonja looked out and noted that there was already one clinging to our forestay too. My immediate fear was that we would become the 'overspill' for all the egrets who couldn't find space on the boat next door. I sat in the companionway for a spell with the powerful torch, spotlighting birds as they fluttered down towards us. I'd hoped it might put them off, but instead it merely prevented them from seeing me and I nearly managed to grab ahold of one landing next to my head. I hastily strung up a couple of the anti-bird measures we used to use back in Granton and we turned in, hoping for the best.

Emerging on deck in the fresh light of the following morning, we found that the egrets had laughed in the face of our puny anti-roosting efforts. Goodness knows how many or how few of them spent the night aboard, but everything was covered in guano. During the following hour's effort cleaning up, we decided another night in that spot was out of the question and that we'd have to either head for Santander or at the very least find some other place out of the roosting egret zone. The snag, of course, was the 3.5m swell expected outside. Would it even be possible to get out?

Certainly, there didn't seem to be any other boat traffic heading in or out of the estuary. The wind was forecast to be northwesterly, F3, or about 10 knots, but we could already feel that it was considerably more than that. Heading out through the entrance channel, the horizon out to sea was clearly sinuous, never a good sign, but we were desperate and pushed on. It was not long after high water, so no strong current and the waves were not breaking across the entrance, so we made a dash out.

It was pretty wild. Wind northwesterly, yes, but F6, or about 25 knots. Really though that was just what was needed to make sailing in that kind of sea an option at all. Waves certainly 3-4m. We tore over them and through them, surfing down the wave faces at tremendous speeds - up to 11.7 knots! The sun was shining and it was fun, but hard work too. The 30 miles from Ribadesella to San Vicente took us 10 hours to cover. The same to Santander was down in 5.

The entrance was well sheltered from the northwesterly swell and we tucked into the first anchorage, just inside, where all was remarkably peaceful. After seeing none for ages, we were surprised to find about half a dozen British boats in this anchorage. The scenery was lovely, we were anchored off a fine beach, close to town, had a delightful swim in the morning and then went ashore for a menu del dia lunch treat.

View from the Santander anchorage

View of the Santander anchorage

Things were getting busy in the anchorage when we left, it was after all a beautiful Sunday afternoon. When we got back, it was all a bit chaotic. Boats absolutely everywhere, of course, but also a stiff (and unforecast) easterly blowing, driving a heavy chop straight into the anchorage and rolling Fettler about in a highly dramatic manner. There was nothing for it but to up sticks and look for better shelter further upriver. The first obvious spot was absolutely jam packed, no room at the inn. The other charted anchorages were wide open to the wind so we sailed off the page and right up to the navigable extent of the river where we finally found good shelter, though in a rather industrial setting, opposite a currently inactive ship yard.

The Astander yard, at dusk

Yesterday at dusk, we watched apprehensively as large flocks of egrets passed overhead, apparently bound for San Vicente. None stopped off.

Fettlerastur

Here in the Principality of Asturias, many many businesses proudly proclaim their love of the homeland by including at least an Astur in their name. It is a beautiful region, of which they are justly proud. As for sailing however... Our assessment is that it could be better.

By all accounts, the weather has been atypical while we've been here. Very little rain, sunny nearly all day every day, very warm - around 30 Celsius. So, the rather annoying (from a sailor's point of view) lack of wind might not be normal either. Anyway, it has meant a lot more motoring than we're accustomed to. If you're a sailor who aims to sail and normally disdains motoring, this can be an experience that leaves one feeling cheapened but there comes a point when the pride must be swallowed if any progress is to be made. The one windy day we've had in the last month consisted of a gale which came from nothing and blew out in about 3 hours, leaving nothing but a severely agitated sea behind and taking with it, goodness only knows how, two of our fenders.

There are few cruising boats along this stretch of coast, only the odd French or Spanish vessel, it being August and holiday time in both countries. Most of the harbours seem to be free of charge to visitors, even including electricity in some cases. That sort of hospitality, of course, is only possible when numbers are limited, so long may it last!

Amazing what can be towed by canoe.

One night in San Esteban, a large tree floated into the harbour and was causing a distinct hazard to shipping. It fell to us, on the way back from the bar in our canoe, to tow the offending article safely out of the way and secure it to the harbour wall.

It was a sad departure from San Esteban, our good friend Daniel waving from the quay as we slipped out and then bashed our way into a bit of a brutal head sea around Cabo Peñas to Gijon. There we were amazed by one of the most spectacular firework displays we've seen anywhere - and this in a country receiving major international bailouts?? Anyway, it was nice to look at. Never mind how many young people could have been employed for a year with the same cash. Gijon is the first place that we've encountered the noisy demonstrations that have been staged all over Spain in protest at the high rate of unemployment, government spending cuts, etc. etc.

Architectural detai in Gijon.

Gijon has had a bad rep amongst cruising sailboats - more than once we were advised to give it a miss - because of the high prices at its marina. There is, however, a new marina (Marina Yates) which we had luckily heard about. It's not yet marked on the charts or in the almanac and is pretty tricky to find, but well worth the effort. Great facilities, reasonably priced, friendly staff. The one potential problem of being far from town is solved by offering free bicycles to take advantage of the excellent, off-road, cycle path into the centre. The location turns out to be a plus for those who like a bit of peace by night.

Northern Spain?? Luanco beach 

The stunning backdrop to Ribadesella

Half-tide at Ribadesella visitors' berths - surprises lurk

We are now in Ribadesella. It's a beautiful spot, with the peaks of the Cantabrian Mountains climbing up into the distance, but August is holiday time in both Spain and France and, for the first time since Madeira, we're finding some places a bit overrun with tourists. If the current forecast holds true, we may make a dash for Bordeaux later in the week.

Off the beaten tack

Plenty of room for other boats

Since crossing the border from Galicia into Asturias, we've been pretty much on our own. Occasionally, a French boat on its way past, east or west, stops for a night, but that's it as far as yacht traffic goes. The distances between all-weather entry harbours are longer here, with only three sheltered harbours (Cudillero, San Esteban and Aviles) between Ribadeo and Gijon on the other side of Cabo Peñas. We opted for San Esteban de Pravia as our base, 48 NM from Ribadeo and 25 NM from Gijon.

S Esteban river entrance. Ok today but we've seen winter pics

Anchored alone, in view of industrial heritage

A former coal port, San Esteban is now a charming, friendly little town with everything one could ask for - good transport links (train and bus), supermarket, general store, bank, pharmacy, five cafe/bar/restaurants, a beautiful coastal walk and perfect shelter in its large and fully dredged harbour basin. Its industrial heritage is nicely displayed with a row of cranes lit up along the harbourfront at night, and the final section of the old coal-transporting railway has been converted into a pedestrian path and park through the middle of town.

Even the most recent edition (2010) of the South Biscay pilot is pretty down on San Esteban. If we hadn't heard from a couple of boats who'd stopped in there that things were different, we would not have been tempted. True, until just a year or so ago most of the harbour was badly silted up but there is a dredger permanently based here and the port has just been dredged to around 7 metres, with small boat pontoons lining the quayside. The rest is used for dinghy sailing and other watersports or available for anchoring. This is what Burntisland or Granton could be like!

Along the clifftop coastal walk

Decay in the backwaters

Soto del Barco

True to what we have discovered to be our cruising philosophy, rather than be on the move all the time we've decided to stay for a couple of weeks or so in well-selected, sheltered anchorages along this coast and take the time to fully explore the surrounding countryside and towns. From San Esteban so far we've been to the cute fishing village of Cudillero, 3 NM to the west, and the historic cities of Aviles and Oviedo. This confirmed our choice of base port since Aviles, despite having a beautiful old town, has a horrible waterfront (the marina is next to a dual carriageway on one side, looking over to smoking factory chimneys on the other) and the wind whistles straight through the harbour at Cudillero.

Cudillero

Cudillero harbour - windswept but snug

Des res in Aviles 

Cobbled for cattle, smooth for pedestrians 

Rough night in Aviles?

Oviedo's Gothic cathedral 

Oviedo old town

The towns of northern Spain are very picturesque and lively and we find it hard to understand why there aren't more international tourists here (not that we're complaining, mind you). It's mainly pilgrims on the Camino de Santiago and Spanish visitors. But then we hadn't heard of Oviedo, the capital of Asturias, or Aviles, its third largest city, before we came here, either. Highly recommended.

The local beverage, sidra, has become a favourite. It's an uncarbonated, unfiltered cider which is served by pouring over one's shoulder into a very thin glass held far below to give it some fizz. You're then supposed to down it, but that seems rather wasteful.

Asturian still life

Today we have a day off from sightseeing and join the local grannies what lunch, all dolled up in colour-matched dresses, handbags, shoes and cars, in a pre-lunch drink with pinchos on the terrace of the 'Puerto Norte'. Prior to lunch, that's also where one can find a rare beast in this part of the world - a strokable cat - who  most days seems to spend the late morning curled up on one or other of the cafe chairs.