A family of four voyaging around the world on a 44' Boreal.
Bay of Biscay to A Coruña
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dolphins!
The Bay of Biscay is a pretty big deal for small boat sailors. It’s about 250 or so nautical miles across and it’s a lee shore, meaning that most of the time the wind is blowing from the ocean and pushing the wind and waves toward the shore. And your boat if the weather turns bad. Conditions can change quickly and since it’s an open ocean passage, there is nowhere to duck in if the weather gets bad. You could choose to island hop along the west coast of France to the north coast of Spain, but then you run the risk of getting stuck in the bottom southeast corner with a long slog to the west coast of Spain against wind and current. There’s also a rather big continental shelf that extends south off the coast of Brittany and, combined with the tide, it can get pretty rough, pretty quickly. Best to just set a direct course and get out of dodge! For a north -> south passage, the best option for us was to sail from the Brest area of France to the A Coruña area of northern Spain.
check out the size of those waves!
I tried not to overthink it while at the same time being cautious. At its most basic, it’s a 250 nautical mile passage. With the right wind, no big deal. On the other hand, our recent passages hadn’t been ideal—we had done a fair amount of motoring since we left Sweden and we’d also had some rather sporty sails that were somewhat uncomfortable and likely a little intimidating for the kids. Before we cross the Atlantic, the only multi-day passages we have are the Bay of Biscay and the passage from Portugal to the Canaries. I felt it was important that Biscay was a good experience for ourselves and for the kids, to help build confidence and comfort prior to the TransAt. So we analyzed the weather, watched weather patterns, obsessed a little, and stocked up on snacks and treats and good food. I downloaded audiobooks and some shows on Netflix for the kids. When the weather was right, we were ready to go!
We chatted a little with our friends on Artemis who were anchored just south of us outside of Brest. Although we both planned on going on the same day, we were departing from different locations and at different times, but it was still nice to know that we had friends out on the water making the same passage. Leaving Lanildut, we got creamed by the current. At one point we were making less than 2 knots of speed over ground and it literally looked and felt like we were standing still. Eventually we got out from between the mainland and the islands and the current dropped off. Engine off, full sails up, time to start the passage!
The seas were pretty big and there was also a wind chop on top of the swell, so it wasn’t the most comfortable sail. But we also had solid winds, mainly from behind, so we were able to make good speed and stay on course. Dolphins played at our bow which always feels like a good omen. We could see Artemis on AIS and eventually we got close enough that we could pick them up on VHF radio. It was fun to be chatting with friends out in the middle of nowhere, and I think it gave the kids a level of comfort to know that we weren’t alone.
Pilot Whales
Matilda looking for Artemis.
Pilot whales and Artemis!
On our second evening at sea, we caught up with Artemis, right at sunset. We couldn’t have planned it better. We really wanted to get photos of each other under sail, and it just so happened at sunset. And the cherry on top was a pod of pilot whales that joined us for our mid-passage sunset rendezvous. Probably fifteen pilot whales approached us from behind and, just like dolphins, they played in our bow wake. They swam back and forth between the boats, putting on a great show while we all yelled in excitement. They are much, much, bigger than dolphins and seem to move more slowly than dolphins, yet they kept up with us without seeming to exert any effort.
Around dawn on our third day, we jibed and sailed directly for A Coruña, hoping to make port by sunset. The north coast of Spain has huge mountains, and we could see land when we were miles and miles offshore. Around 5 miles offshore we could smell land—pine trees. It’s always an amazing experience to smell land from sea and one that I’ll never tire of. We pulled into the marina in downtown A Coruña right around sunset and were welcomed by our friends Malin and Adam on s/v Leia. Overall it was a great passage. We made good time, sailed the entire way, the winds were steady, and the seas were big but not too sloppy. Unfortunately, both Freja and I were seasick for most of the trip. For the first time I didn’t feel nauseous but rather felt like my whole equilibrium was off. I was dizzy and my head felt ten times bigger than it really is. On our second day at sea I just stopped fighting it and lay down below and listened to an audiobook for hours. The only way I was comfortable was if my head was supported. Very bizarre. But in good news, I woke up on the third morning and felt almost totally fine. Still a little woozy, but leaps and bounds better. Most people say that they get their sea legs on their third day at sea and I was so happy to actually experience it. Now I know I won’t be seasick for the entire Atlantic crossing!
This is how Hans spends most of his time on passage. Fishing and fine tuning the sails.
Before we left Lanildut, we mounted our windpilot on the transom with the plan of using it for the first time. The wind-pilot is probably one of the best pieces of kit we have onboard—a very reliable autopilot/third crew member that also uses no electricity and doesn’t eat our snacks. However for over a year it has languished in the sail locker, waiting for some action. Our NKE autopilot, which is super high tech and amazing, sucks down at least 10amps pretty much all the time. Less if the seas are very calm and it doesn’t have to work hard, more if it’s sloppy out. We count every amp that leaves the batteries and the wind-pilot will be crucial for battery happiness for longer passages. Unfortunately we didn’t use it because I was pretty much out of commission for the first two days and Hans had to do all the sailing, cooking, and kid-detail. Combined with his commitment (read: obsession) to fishing, he didn’t have time or energy left to play around with the wind-pilot. It’s definitely a top priority for our next passage since we want to have at least one good test run before the TransAt.
I never heard of sea sickness going away after the 3rd day; that's interesting that it worked for you. If it happens again, I'll be disappointed we didn't sail farther on Jacumba!
That land smell was one of my favorite things when we'd sail from St. Martin to St. Kitts - SK was one of the most fragrant islands we'd sail up to.
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A pod of playful pilot whales - how cool!
ReplyDeleteI never heard of sea sickness going away after the 3rd day; that's interesting that it worked for you. If it happens again, I'll be disappointed we didn't sail farther on Jacumba!
That land smell was one of my favorite things when we'd sail from St. Martin to St. Kitts - SK was one of the most fragrant islands we'd sail up to.