After a big weather discussion, we decided to shove off the dock at 6:30 pm, gas up, and head around the corner towards Cape Finisterre, the northern most point of Spain. By the time we left the fuel dock, it was already getting dark. The big rush was to beat a long line of predicted winter storms. Things were good, a little rough, with the wind on the nose at 20-25, but we had 24 hours to make it to our next harbor just 38 miles away.
Around 8pm everyone was feeling sea sick, not fun. By 8:30 things were so lumpy & dark that I needed Bri to cover the rest of my shift so I could go attempt to throw up. There was only 30 min remaining, so no biggie. However, during Brian’s turn at the wheel things picked up a bit more. The winds had climbed to a solid 28-29 knots, with gusts well up in the 30’s. On the plus side, we were starting to make some good time, but had to have things reefed in a bit. Somewhere around 9 pm-ish the rain was coming in sideways and was painful. It turned out later that sand was blowing from the beach miles away (so it was like a facial peel- Ouch!). When Brian’s shift had ended at 11pm, he had been tossed to the deck 6 times by rough waves, and had emptied the contents of his stomach as well. Survey says; 3 out of the 4 crew puked their brains out! Barfing, burping, and farting – a truly heinous experience! Sleep was not possible now either, as one was tossed around no matter where you tried to wedge in. The paint locker had over turned and solvent smells filled the below deck space, specifically our cabin. Yeah, it was enough to make you, well, hurl (again). At 3am, I tried valiantly to get up and ready for my shift at the wheel. I was headed on deck when the captain took one look at me and said” I’ll cover for you for a minute or two until you feel better”. Well, that never happened!
We pounded into the wind the rest of the early morning, and finally, were only 6 miles from our port! Unfortunately, after the next watch had past, the sound of the winch handle pounding on the deck telling us to ready the boat for anchor, was replaced by the confusing info that land was barely in sight. We needed to figure out why & fast. Brian checked the charts, both electric and hard copy, and found we had drifted north, away from the harbor, by 10-12 miles in just 2.5 hours (while sailing in 25 knots of breeze). A 5 knot tide had developed in just one hour. So, we were 16+ miles away, and north from our safety harbor with predicted 50 knot head winds approaching.
The captain decided the best course would be to head back to La Coruna. Stunned silence, and dull heads nodding in agreement, we gybed the boat around with 21 miles to go. We made the return trip in a mere 3+ hours. 12 hours to make 30 miles, 2 hours to be shoved out to sea and a 3+ hour return? It was actually the most enjoyable sailing I have done on this boat thus far. I averaged a good 6.5kts the entire way back, and got this heavy metal slug to surf! It was so fun when I hit 10.8 knots going down a wave! Also, I wasn’t throwing up anymore, so that’s always a plus.
We found a nice hiding hole (anchorage) just off a beach, deep into the La Coruna harbor recommended by our harbor guide book, and dropped anchor. It took a couple of tries to get us tucked in just right. Dinner of veggie lasagna was served for the 1st meal in 24 hours and was quite good. It was kept down by everyone. Then this loud, ship shaking noise started as the keel was striking the rock bottom and sliding around. Oh crap, the anchorage was not deep enough. We tried to motor off of our position, but no such luck as we were stuck. Good thing she’s a metal boat! We would just have to wait it out until the tide came back...
Let me tell you the pounding and shaking was just as bad as the beating we took off the coast. We all laid down trying to grab some rest and wait it out. The beating the boat was taking was frightening. Tides take around 6 hour to come in and 6 hours to go out, so we expected to move the boat off the rocks about 1 am or so. The captain was on the anchor watch, waiting for the depth gauge to give us a proper number, when he fell into a deep sleep. At 2 AM we were awaken by more loud sounds. Brian bolted out of bed, looked out the cabin window and said “we are on the breakwater”. What!!! He yelled for the Captain to “start the engine” as we all jumped into our foul weather gear in 2 seconds flat, and got on deck. I had thought that we had drifted back only about 35 yards, and were pounding the stone island that was part of our protective anchorage. I was completely disoriented & when I figured out where we were, I was totally stunned to see that it was the harbor breakwater 1 ¾ miles away. This is like drifting from Alameda out across the bay and into Treasure Island, missing tankers, cargo ships, and the bridge! Brian raised the anchor chain hoping to pull us off the mole (breakwater), but only found a missing anchor. Yikes. I rigged towing lines and the captain called a MAYDAY as he couldn’t start the engine. After he knew help was on the way, Richard settled down long enough to properly get the engine running. The rescue boat (mayday) was cancelled, & Brian behind the wheel, drove us off the rocks, and into the nearby Marina we had left only some 30 hours earlier. Sitting at the dock, at 3:30 am, we began to realize how lucky we were to drift onto the inside breakwater wall. If we had missed it, we would have drifted to the other side of the bay, which had 20 foot seas breaking onto shallow rock reefs and all would have been lost.
Around 8pm everyone was feeling sea sick, not fun. By 8:30 things were so lumpy & dark that I needed Bri to cover the rest of my shift so I could go attempt to throw up. There was only 30 min remaining, so no biggie. However, during Brian’s turn at the wheel things picked up a bit more. The winds had climbed to a solid 28-29 knots, with gusts well up in the 30’s. On the plus side, we were starting to make some good time, but had to have things reefed in a bit. Somewhere around 9 pm-ish the rain was coming in sideways and was painful. It turned out later that sand was blowing from the beach miles away (so it was like a facial peel- Ouch!). When Brian’s shift had ended at 11pm, he had been tossed to the deck 6 times by rough waves, and had emptied the contents of his stomach as well. Survey says; 3 out of the 4 crew puked their brains out! Barfing, burping, and farting – a truly heinous experience! Sleep was not possible now either, as one was tossed around no matter where you tried to wedge in. The paint locker had over turned and solvent smells filled the below deck space, specifically our cabin. Yeah, it was enough to make you, well, hurl (again). At 3am, I tried valiantly to get up and ready for my shift at the wheel. I was headed on deck when the captain took one look at me and said” I’ll cover for you for a minute or two until you feel better”. Well, that never happened!
We pounded into the wind the rest of the early morning, and finally, were only 6 miles from our port! Unfortunately, after the next watch had past, the sound of the winch handle pounding on the deck telling us to ready the boat for anchor, was replaced by the confusing info that land was barely in sight. We needed to figure out why & fast. Brian checked the charts, both electric and hard copy, and found we had drifted north, away from the harbor, by 10-12 miles in just 2.5 hours (while sailing in 25 knots of breeze). A 5 knot tide had developed in just one hour. So, we were 16+ miles away, and north from our safety harbor with predicted 50 knot head winds approaching.
The captain decided the best course would be to head back to La Coruna. Stunned silence, and dull heads nodding in agreement, we gybed the boat around with 21 miles to go. We made the return trip in a mere 3+ hours. 12 hours to make 30 miles, 2 hours to be shoved out to sea and a 3+ hour return? It was actually the most enjoyable sailing I have done on this boat thus far. I averaged a good 6.5kts the entire way back, and got this heavy metal slug to surf! It was so fun when I hit 10.8 knots going down a wave! Also, I wasn’t throwing up anymore, so that’s always a plus.
We found a nice hiding hole (anchorage) just off a beach, deep into the La Coruna harbor recommended by our harbor guide book, and dropped anchor. It took a couple of tries to get us tucked in just right. Dinner of veggie lasagna was served for the 1st meal in 24 hours and was quite good. It was kept down by everyone. Then this loud, ship shaking noise started as the keel was striking the rock bottom and sliding around. Oh crap, the anchorage was not deep enough. We tried to motor off of our position, but no such luck as we were stuck. Good thing she’s a metal boat! We would just have to wait it out until the tide came back...
Let me tell you the pounding and shaking was just as bad as the beating we took off the coast. We all laid down trying to grab some rest and wait it out. The beating the boat was taking was frightening. Tides take around 6 hour to come in and 6 hours to go out, so we expected to move the boat off the rocks about 1 am or so. The captain was on the anchor watch, waiting for the depth gauge to give us a proper number, when he fell into a deep sleep. At 2 AM we were awaken by more loud sounds. Brian bolted out of bed, looked out the cabin window and said “we are on the breakwater”. What!!! He yelled for the Captain to “start the engine” as we all jumped into our foul weather gear in 2 seconds flat, and got on deck. I had thought that we had drifted back only about 35 yards, and were pounding the stone island that was part of our protective anchorage. I was completely disoriented & when I figured out where we were, I was totally stunned to see that it was the harbor breakwater 1 ¾ miles away. This is like drifting from Alameda out across the bay and into Treasure Island, missing tankers, cargo ships, and the bridge! Brian raised the anchor chain hoping to pull us off the mole (breakwater), but only found a missing anchor. Yikes. I rigged towing lines and the captain called a MAYDAY as he couldn’t start the engine. After he knew help was on the way, Richard settled down long enough to properly get the engine running. The rescue boat (mayday) was cancelled, & Brian behind the wheel, drove us off the rocks, and into the nearby Marina we had left only some 30 hours earlier. Sitting at the dock, at 3:30 am, we began to realize how lucky we were to drift onto the inside breakwater wall. If we had missed it, we would have drifted to the other side of the bay, which had 20 foot seas breaking onto shallow rock reefs and all would have been lost.
