Courant violent

Port de Mortagne-sur-Gironde, winter quarters

We only stopped the one night at Meschers, neither the silent atmosphere of closed-up holiday homes nor the price per night encouraging us to stick around. The moment the automatic lock gate opened, two and a half hours before high water, we were on our way so as to catch the last of the flood up to Mortagne. The pilot book indicates that the lock at Mortagne is only opened from HW-1 to HW, so we didn't want to miss our chance. As it turns out, that was a bit of an exaggeration. Depending on the size of the tide, it's open from two to four hours.

Following the narrow channel in through the surrounding reed beds, we were immediately impressed by the security of shelter inside, the pretty setting with the limestone cliffs behind and the relaxed friendliness of the harbour master and other local folk. Here, we thought, is a potential wintering spot. The clincher came when we found out the price - very, very reasonable. In fact, the cheapest marina we've encountered on the trip so far.

The view from our cockpit

Vineyards adorn the higher ground 

They grow other stuff too. Sunflowers ready for harvest

We did still want to have a shot at visiting Bordeaux before the rumoured shutdown of its lock for winter maintenance so, after a couple of nights at Mortagne, we set off up river. We hurried up on the tail end of the flood, reaching Blaye just at the turn of the tide. Unfortunately, a stiff breeze was blowing against the increasing ebb flow, raising an ugly brown chop that made the prospect of lying on the 'halte nautique' unappealing in the extreme. The 'Courant Violent' sign on the bridge leading out to the pontoon wasn't kidding. We heard later that more than one boat has sunk at this pontoon in rough conditions!

Blaye's halte nautique - it's right out there

Blaye shenannigans

The pink line shows our peregrinations at Blaye. We took one look at the pontoon and said, 'Nah!', thought we might get a reasonable anchorage over by the Ile Nouvelle, where we'd noticed some moorings on the way past. Went over for a look and said, 'Nah', went over to the Ile de Pate, anchored, rolled around for a bit and said, 'Nah', hauled up the anchor (of course the current was increasing all this while) and went back to the Ile Nouvelle, where we passed, if not a comfortable, at least a tolerable night. The current was pretty considerable, perhaps 3.5kt and this 5 days before spring tide. I dreamt of the anchor chain snapping, but of course everything was all right and the anchor well and truly buried in the thick river mud.

The wind too carried on howling most of the night but conditions were slightly calmer in the morning as we waited for slack water before moving across to the pontoon. The tides, not surprisingly, are a bit odd up this large river estuary. The main difference from what we're used to is that the ebb continues to run for about an hour and a half after the time of predicted low water. Slack tide is then very brief and the current picks up swiftly into the flood.

Anyhoo, we sat and waited for the tide to turn, then hauled the anchor and crossed back to the pontoon. The flood was already running at maybe 1kt as we made a lovely docking on what we subsequently discovered to be the commercial (wrong) side of the pontoon. Leisure craft are meant to go on the inside, which is actually slightly more sheltered, so we decided to shift around though the current was running stronger all the time. It was kind of a fun challenge and we brought it off without mishap or shouting, though no doubt things would have been different if anybody else had been watching.

Blaye's main (only?) attraction, but it's a good one 

Picturesque ruins inside Blaye Citadel

Blaye's other undoubted attraction

With the raging current and ugly chop, the halte nautique really wasn't a comfortable or restful berth. Problems with the lifting bridge and lock at Bordeaux and the fact that our friends there would be away in any case, plus the approaching spring tide and equinox (with its likely attendant gales) decided us to beat a strategic retreat back to the haven of Mortagne. We left before dawn the next morning, when all was calm and beautiful and we had the whole of the ebb to boost us along.

Just a sliver of moon to keep us company in the pre-dawn chill

Misty morning on the Gironde

A river of many moods

A short hop across Biscay

The world's oldest transporter bridge, Getxo near Bilbao

Still transporting, after all these years

Industrial Astillero turned out to be the highlight of the Santander estuary as far as we were concerned. It was a pleasant, friendly, working town, with a superbly sheltered anchorage and easy landing for the dinghy. The rest was either bland (Santander itself) or simply holiday/beach towns (Somo).

We left Astillero reluctantly to be near the exit for departure when the weather suited and passed one more rolly night at the Santander anchorage before tucking into a tight but well sheltered spot behind a giant sandy spit. We thought we might spend a few days there, but the tides were large and the spot was so tight we ended up briefly aground at low water. Not really a problem in itself, but we were very near a steep ledge and I was slightly concerned lest the rudder end up on the ledge on the next tide and be damaged.

So, it was snap decision time again and we had an excellent, really excellent, sail to Bilbao. We looked in at Castro Urdiales on the way, as folk had recommended it and it's meant to have an interesting Templar castle, but it was very lumpy outside and we could see the masts of the boats inside waving wildly around, so we pressed on. 40+ miles in 7 hours on a lunchtime departure is a good day!

Biscay turns out to be a real sunfish hotspot. We've seen them on pretty much every passage since Ribadeo and even spotted them leaping right out of the water. They don't look like a jumping sort of fish, so we don't understand how they manage it.

Guggenheim: nice building, pity about the entry price

Bilbao's Santander station

Bilbao is an obviously wealthy, rather grandly elegant city. We had a couple of days in town and took in some culture, eschewing the absurdly pricey Guggenheim in favour of the free (on Wednesdays) Fine Arts Museum, where there was an excellent Goya exhibition on.

The anchorage, indeed the harbour, of Bilbao is miles away from the city, but the superb metro system makes it very easy to get around. The suburbs surrounding the harbour are also quite wealthy (only place we've ever seen moving pedestrian walkways outside about town) and pleasant. They boast the world's oldest transporter bridge, which is the only way across the river for miles around and only €0.35 for pedestrians.

Bilbao, we decided, would be our last stop in Spain as the difficulty of getting a sailing breeze for Bordeaux only increases as the inside corner is reached and the distance to sail doesn't diminish further. It's challenging nevertheless, since westerly winds are generally accompanied by big seas that make the entrance to the Gironde impossible. Ideally, we wanted wind straight northerly, easterly or south of east but what prevails, and what we got, was northeasterly.

We made an evening departure, hoping for a two-night one-day passage, reaching the Gironde early on the second day. Contrary winds stretched the passage out to a full two days, but quite enjoyable.

It was lumpy for the first day, but the weather was fair and the nights warm and starry. It was good to be offshore again, for the first time since reaching Bayona 4 months ago. Quite a few sailors we've met in these parts have remarked on the absence of dolphins, but we've found that it's only the case in coastal waters. They, and not incidentally the fishing fleet, concentrate around the continental shelf.

An uncharacteristically quiescent Biscay

Still still at sunset

France ho! Landfall at Gironde. Not much land evident.

The wind abandoned us on the last day with about 30 NM still to go so we had to stop for a swim and then chugged along in the brilliant sunshine, coming to anchor in the Gironde a couple of hours after sunset. The plan then was to get up stupidly early the next day (today) to catch the tide up to Paulliac, halfway to Bordeaux, but when we did get up at 0530 it was to find everything draped in superthick, wet fog. We weren't really sorry to get back into bed and snooze a few hours longer.

When the fog finally lifted, there was only two hours remaining on the flood, so we shaped our course for the small port of Meschers, accessible to vessels up to 9 m at high water +/-2.5 hours.

The caves of Regulus, at Meschers

Shrimping huts

We're not far from Spain at all, geographically, but the character of the country, the people, the architecture is totally, strikingly different. Got to love that.

Mais oui! C'est la France, dahling!