Viana do Castelo

Position: 41°41’36.3″N 8°49’20.4″W

As soon as Aleta reached the mouth of the Vigo River, and after we agreed that Baiona was too short of a sail, the wind died. Shame on the forecast! Perhaps we were too close to shore and the offshore winds were caught behind the mountains. Perhaps, for once, the wind was going to mooch at its lowest forecasted speed, not its highest. Whatever the reason, with our sights set on reaching Viana do Castelo by nightfall, the time to hoist the iron genny had arrived.

Smooth, gently rolling seas and warm sun soon took their toll on our jet-lagged crew and they slept soundly for a couple of hours. High tea was briefly interrupted by the arrival of our daily dolphins, much to Emma and Jarno’s delight. Viana wasn’t far, just over 25 nautical miles down the coast. As the afternoon wore on, the wind returned and built to a full 20-25 knots on the stern, reaching full force just as we turned into the Rio Lima towards the marina.

Rounding Up

Kite boarders, windsurfers and foilers zipped back and forth across the estuary. Clearly the late afternoon winds blew predictably enough to make the long sandy beaches an alt-sailing hotspot. Pushing hard against a three-knot downstream current and 35 knot gusts proved tedious. We passed the time trying to raise the marina on VHF channel 09. They eventually replied and confirmed we indeed had a berth for two nights.

The marinero who saw us in was as skilled as any we had ever met. Docking without a bow-thruster in a 30-knot crosswind and side current will raise your heartrate. In the end no damage to the dock or our neighboring boat ensued. We almost looked like we knew what we were doing. Well done crew! I made a mental note to leave before the afternoon’s wind rose and on an outbound tide, just after slack water. I like a quiet life.

Firefighters!

Heading upriver the flashing lights and wail of a fire engine followed our progress. About a quarter of a mile before the marina entrance, four firefighters in full gear and helmets leapt off the truck and started running along the river front. Like the Keystone Cops they stumbled down a long ramp to a floating dock with a couple of sailboats moored to it. From our vantage point we didn’t see anything on fire. After a minute, they didn’t see anything either and took off back up the ramp towards the gap in the seawall that was the marina’s entrance. A pedestrian swing bridge hung uselessly over the river on the far side of the gap. Bumbling into each other like Stooges, the firefighters turned around and ran back towards their truck.

Turns out there was a fire in our marina, a half dozen slips down from where we’d pulled in. A bank of batteries had shorted, caught fire and scorched a mattress on a French boat. The smell of burnt memory foam was awful.

The Allure of Fire

In a small-world irony, our new acquaintances in La Rochelle had invited us onboard their brand-new Allures 45.9 for drinks. The Allures is an aluminum blue water global cruiser built to a very high standard in Brittany. Marcos talked about ordering the boat and fitting it out. I asked him if he’d gone for lithium batteries? He said, no, he hadn’t. A few years ago, he and his wife, Maru, had chartered a Bavaria Yacht in Croatia and a bank of batteries broke loose in heavy seas, shorted and caught fire.

Fire on board is every sailor’s worst nightmare. Smoke instantly fills the small interior space with toxic gases that generally means your best option is abandoning ship and calling your insurance agent. Given their Croatian experience and lithium batteries’ reputation for catching fire, Marcos decided he’d stick with more predictable AGMs. Here’s the irony: the boat that caught on fire in Viana was an Allures 39.9 with at least a couple of lithium batteries. Later, I wrote to Marcos and let him know he’d made the right choice.

Funiculators

Given all the extreme sporting energy on display when we pulled into the river’s mouth, the chill, surfer vibe in this little town wasn’t the least bit surprising. Jarno wasted no time locating the best available coffee and breakfast. The town’s narrow lanes felt like an artefact of its history, before it became a beach resort in the 19^th century.

At the top of Monte de Santa Luzia, a bluff overlooking the river, the imposing Santuário Diocesano do Sagrado Coração de Jesus stands invitingly. Pilgrims and tourists have options. A cramped, hot funicular will haul you up the hill. You might take a taxi or bus. For the truly dedicated a long series of steps runs alongside the funicular. A concrete wall separates walkers from funiculators making (smug) fitness-shaming impossible. After almost a week at sea, Carol and I had no choice but to make our legs function again. Emma and Jarno gamely tagged along.

No Place Like Dome

At the summit the views were good enough. But then we saw we could climb all the way to the top of the church where the view would be even better (for no other reason than our investment in additional exercise).

Jarno is at least an inch taller than I am, which makes him pretty darn tall. Emma’s no slouch in the height department either. Going up shoulder-width stooped staircases is relatively easy. Going back down is not. Often, us tall folks simply can’t go down facing forwards – at least not safely. These days I simply turn around and back down whenever the situation looks even slightly compromising.

Downstairs the church, completed in 1959, has a wonderfully avant garde twist on the obligatory illustrations of the twelve stations of the cross. The first eleven stations make their way around the circular rim below the dome over the altar. Their interlocking panels might have been commissioned from the Works Projects Administration. The twelfth station is the glorious fresco spanning the dome itself.

O-Port-O

Our next stop was Porto, 35 nautical miles further south. There wasn’t any particular hurry, and I hoped to inspire Emma and Jarno with a sense of cruising life. Sail for a few hours, moor or anchor, explore a new town, provision, sleep, then head on. Weather permitting. It is not a terrible alternative to full-time employment.

Photos

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