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Position: 41°11’39.5″N 7°48’09.0″W
By morning, the winds of Viando do Castelo had dropped to nearly nothing. Slipping our mooring and heading out on the downstream tide, we nonetheless raised the main in hopes of a breath of wind. The dominant winds and current along Portugal’s coast flow from north to south, generally in our favour. With around 40 miles to go it wasn’t a long day, but we didn’t need to dilly dally either. By lunch time, the winds filled in and we let nature do her thing for a few hours.
Entering Porto means navigating the bar at the mouth of the Douro River. Depth is maintained to at least four or five metres at low tide, so that’s not a problem. The current is the tricky thing. It flows at at least a couple of knots in either direction, so you’re best going in and out with a favouring tide. Arriving at the river mouth at full ebb, Carol motored hard for the short distance to the marina. Like any good watery cul-de-sac, the marina sports a nasty counter current for the unwary. Aleta, now with her captain at the helm, slewed into her slip with all the grace of a drunken figure skater.
Fortunately, with Emma and Jarno aboard, we had lots of hands fending us off the neighbouring boats. Emma did a particularly excellent job with our big black ball fender which picked up only the merest dusting of powdery white gelcoat from the hull next door. With capable and sympathetic dockside assistance Aleta was quickly tied off. Retiring for gin and tonics in the cockpit, we started making plans for the next couple of days. Out in the Atlantic, Erin churned up the seas, but it looked like she would settle down by the time she reached Europe. The forecast showed her heading north into the Bay of Biscay and up into the Channel.
Maw
For us, it was time to saddle up and head into the maw of tourism that is Porto in late summer. The kids, both diehard digital nomads, had spent plenty of time in Porto and knew the best coffee shops and fashion emporiums. Despite his height, Jarno can wear the same trousers as Emma. Carol and I were sceptical until they bought a pair of wide-legged denims and Emma later sent a photo of Jarno wearing her new jeans. It helps that they both look good in anything. Sharing clothes is good for the environment and helps cut down on packing for longer trips, I guess. Memories of Emma and her sister fighting over clothes in their tweens are now a thing of the distant past.
The forecast continued deteriorating. Not so much the winds, which remained steady, but the seas, which kept building. Like a bow wave, Erin pushed the seas to four and five metres with a nine second interval. The possibility of driving through breakers and continuing south would be foolish at best and sinkering(?) at worst.
Open the Fladgates
Stuck for at least a week, we started revising our plans. Emma quickly arranged a visit to the Taylor’s port wine warehouse on the south side of the Douro across from the city centre. Taylor Fladgate is a storied name in port and the partnership includes the Croft and Fonseca brands. Emma’s friend Symo’s family is another big producer. Symington Family Estates owns, in addition to their eponymous wines, brands like Graham’s and Cockburn’s. Unfortunately, Symo wasn’t in town, so the prospect of stuffing Aleta full of free cases of vintage port was even more of a pipe dream than it might have been.
From the marina, Porto is a three mile walk up river. Where the streets narrow the city has built cantilevered boardwalks that lean out over the water. Afternoon fog rolls in during the summer months bringing a welcome chill and making snapshots artsier.
Zoom
Sadly, with only few days off, Emma and Jarno had to jet back home for work. Some employers are less tolerant of remote working than others. Blurred out backgrounds on Zoom calls can’t mask the wheel of seagulls and thrum of diesel engines on the river. After a couple of days exploring the city and a few of their old haunts, we bid them adieu wishing we had had more time on the water together. There will be other opportunities – including ocean crossings!
