Monday 23rd June 2014
It wasn’t a great night – the dinghy is on the coach roof, which made it incredibly hot in the forepeak cabin. I nearly gave up and favoured the saloon, but I reached for a scarf as a bed cover instead, trying to drink the air that was coming through the hatch. When the alarm went off, I could have stayed asleep longer, but the prospect of a lovely shower was enough to prize me from my bunk… with an additional couple of bites. I cannot bear these little creatures – so small, and cause me so much discomfort. After breakfast we went to the Pharmacy to buy some more antihistamine, with my using more Spanish than English (better than last time), and we have some more of the magic pills that stop the worst of the swelling and itching, and some more bite cream (the last lot wasn’t half as good as anthisan!). Anyway. From there it was to provision, at a moderate Gadis, enough to keep us going for a few days – whatever we decide to do!
We’re both feeling a bit homesick; not really bad, but just a bit gloomy. I’m not sure why, but we’ve been away for more than a month now, and we’ve missed some glorious Cornish weather, and we miss regular contact with our family and friends. We’re half worried that we’ve missed summer! I’m sure it’s partly a bit of cabin fever. Living in a small space is challenging at times; you can never really spread out, and the small space leads to a sense of ‘ground hog day’, where our world just seems to shrink. I think it’s worse in the marinas, because the views don’t change as they do at anchor. Here, I look up and see another pontoon behind me. The tide is low, and therefore we’re much lower than the town, so Muros seems to be above our heads. At anchor, you tend to swing around a little, as the breeze takes you, or the tide, or both, so that the view is constantly shifting about – this can make it frustrating when you have a pair of bins that you’re trying to train on something, but it’s a delight too, because the ‘picture’ is constantly varying.
Armed with updated weather forecasts, we had a conference on board. We talked to a British couple (on a boat called Pistachio 3, we think) who’d come into Muros last night having rejected the Ria Concorbion (Finisterre) due to horrible swell running in. It’s all anchorages in there. With this in mind, we not only have to assess the wind, but the swell forecasts, because even a metre of swell will set Whinchat off. As Pete says, she rolls like a pig! Whatever that means! Anyway, the wind is due to blow harder tomorrow, from the north, so it would be an unpleasant beat for the 20NM to Finisterre. The swell is also due to come round to the west/north-west, which would be perfect. So, the plan is stay here for another two nights, and hopefully head north on Wednesday.
There is another festival in Muros at the moment, the festival of San Juan (big in Galicia) and we think it is the night of fires tonight (good old google), where there will either be bonfires or fireworks (this has been corroborated by Pete, who spoke with Pedro, who said not to expect to sleep tonight!). Perhaps we will see something of this.
We’ve taken advantage of the extra day and I’ve done some more laundry! Oh, the excitement. It’s dried in the warm sun in no time – just as well, as there are clouds building on the other side of the Ria. I’ve been watching them darken, and a great darkening cloud building – cumulonimbus will likely mean a thunder storm.
Pete has been getting stir crazy, so suggested a walk to the church, which I was happy to. However, I don’t think he really meant only this, and wanted to walk on. I didn’t! So, he’s gone somewhere, and I’ve come back to Whinchat, as the skies darken. I hope he’s right and that he doesn’t come back soaked – my expectation is that the heavens will open.
The marina has become busy this afternoon – Pedro says it’s because of the weather, it always brings people in. Pete’s missed a couple more French boats arriving (why do they arrive with no warps tied, only a couple of fenders out?), a German boat nearly mount the Spanish boat on the other side of the finger pontoon to us, and then a visit by Customs. I showed them the papers of when they came three weeks ago, and they were happy with that. One of the guys was the same, but he didn’t remember us, not that I expected them to. Once again, they were very friendly and polite.
Pete came back, dry, and since he returned, we’ve had a couple of hours of torrential rain, and squally winds as the thunder storm has passed around the bay. It seems that we’ve had the last of it, as it goes, grumbling into the distance. The poor people trying to light bonfires (there were six going earlier, but I think the storm has probably ruined them, clearly Thor is no fan of San Juan!).
We have a cauldron of bolognese sauce bubbling in the Remoska, so tonight it will be pasta for a change. I’ve ‘had’ to open a bottle of Ribera del Duero to slug into it (a goodly slug as Pete observed, but I soaked the mince first in the first slug), so it would be rude not to finish it…. well, in this heat, it just won’t keep. ¡Salud! as you’d say in Spanish.
angry cloud towers
flashes, bangs, rumbles around
sun peers, smiles again.