Crossing Biscay (Falmouth to A Coruña Spain)

14 – 18 June 2022

Our departure time of 05:00 is halted once we find that our oil level is low (rooky mistake). Living in a small space means things vanish in the overpopulated storage spaces. Finding 20 litres of oil was not the problem; mining it out of its nook behind the children’s beds was. There she lay staring right at us, but it would take an additional 10 min to rid her of her neighbours. Finally, we have the oil at a legitimate level and set off.

We are joined by Djell, a long time friend of Sander’s. His real name is Jelle but since we have 2 good friends with the same name, we call him Djell- after the stuff that goes in his hair. With the extra pair of hands, we hope to make the crossing easier.

Erica is sailing with us on this trip, and we agree to maintain an average speed of 4 knots to reach Spain before heavy winds (too much for us to enjoy) arrive. We establish an hourly check-in call via VHF to ensure we are always in contact, even when losing the mobile signal.

We knew there would not be enough wind for a leisurely sail, but the perfect weather window to get us to Spain was more than our patience would allow. Due to the wind coming from behind us (called a Dead Run), we need to pole out (set up a pole to either port or starboard side of the boat to allow the wind to push our sails). We then can set out the main sail to the opposite side and look like a sailboat with her arms stretched to either side…also known as a Goosewing.

Day 1: Our first confrontation comes in the form of a 6-year-old challenging our new crew member Djelle. This brings great entertainment to the rest of the crew in this now humdrum of blue skies and blue water. Later we have another highlight, a pod of dolphins chasing fish come to swim along with Susie Jane. My mobile phone seems outdated, as the images and videos do not do these magical creatures any good. The whistles and clicks can be heard from inside the boat, and I wonder what they think of these strange animals moving along with a curious floating device. We have at least 10 minutes of enjoying our new companions before they head out to a large school of fish and join their allies, the boobies, for some fishing. This seems like a National Geographic documentary, as hundreds of birds harpoon themselves into the water, with dolphins splashing around. And right at that moment, I am reminded of something…if there are fish…when will the orcas arrive? 

Over the last couple of years, some orca pods have enjoyed nibbling at the rudders of sailing boats down the Spanish and Portuguese coastline. I think they enjoy hearing people’s funny sounds when they thud the vessel, like a puppy and a squeaky toy. Luckily, no orca’s come to the party, and new entertainment ensues. We wager on arrival time at our first checkpoint. Djell 24:00, Danielle 00:30, and Sander 01:30. Loser pays the first round in A Coruña. Wagers like these are welcomed when spirits are low. Djell wins, and we start considering the next stake.

Day 2: Nova has come into her own and often visits us in the cockpit. She barely dared to join us in the cockpit during sails but now seems like an old sea cat. We are managing to sail rather than being a motorboat disguised as a sailboat. We also realize that we are unsure if we have a cruising chute or an asymmetrical spinnaker (again, lovely rookie mistake, but don’t tell). 

New games must be invented to ensure the crew does not die of boredom. As we have been on the motor for a long time, we must determine our fuel consumption. Sander spends an hour in his off time to give us an estimate. We also keep calculating our arrival time when traveling at optimistic future wind speeds. This keeps your mind occupied.

We have a watch schedule that starts at 5pm – 8pm, then change over of crew for the 8pm – 12pm, then the dreaded 12pm – 4am (this is the worst watch of all). You watch your watch buddy taking a snooze on the now very comfy-looking cockpit seat. You stare aimlessly into the dark and entertain (shall I say, keep yourself awake) by zooming in and out of the navigation screen. And just as you think you will fall asleep, the sun appears, and with that, the crew change for the 4am – 7am watch.

The watch rotation is as follows: Sander as a first watch, Djell as support, and me sleeping below. We then switch to me on first watch and Sander on support, with Djell going down for a nap. And finally, Djell as primal, me on support, and Sander is going down for a rest. This works well for the three of us, and I wonder how we will do this when it is just Sander and me…and children. 

Day 3: My watch starts at 4am, and we have enough wind to turn our engine off. We have adjusted our course to head straight to A Coruña. We reach a top speed of 8.7 knots. But average about 5-5.5. We have a considerable swell from the right and waves on our stern. Considering, it is actually a comfortable sail. The lovely thing about this shift is that you see the sunrise. We need to watch for marine traffic, as large (150 – 300 meter) vessels are moving between the various mainland’s. We had not thought there would be so many and find ourselves having to divert course to avoid collisions.

The children and I suffer from sea sickness and live on a diet of tablets to keep the feeling of dread at bay. Sadly, these waves are too much, and Ava and Will are vomiting. They are troopers; once out of their system, they manage to play again.

While crossing, we encounter an unmarked shipping channel; these large vessels move in groups of 4 to 5 with little to no breaks between the next group. We need to cross this channel and, in the process, lose sight and range of Erica. We call every hour, with no response except the communications between the larger vessels. Between the two boats, we have noticed that our AIS (Automatic Identification System – this is also how you can track us on marine traffic websites) cuts in and out. Due to this, we now do not even see Erica on our navigation.

Day 4: Still no sight of Erica. Knowing that we have passed the halfway mark and edging closer to our destination brings a new sense of excitement to the boat. The day proceeds the same as the previous days, until we spot Erica in the distance and finally make contact. There is a sense on relief on the boat and we proceed on.

Day 5: Early morning, and all three of us are awake and looking forward to arriving. We start seeing land and smell it too. Spain smells like rotting flowers with a hint of thyme. By 06:15, we arrived in the Playa Mera anchorage just off A Coruña. We have done it! All the years of preparation and the anxieties accompanying hearing about other sailors encountering huge waves and brutal winds are now behind us. We sailed away from the UK and are now in a new country. With the Spanish courtesy flag hoisted, we open a beer or two (or more) and enjoy our new surroundings.

Lessons learned:

• Sunscreen twice daily
  • The sun is exceptionally sharp out at sea, and the amount of sweating that ensues calls for a double-up around 4 pm. 

• Weather window
  • For us, it worked to go with very little wind predicted for the crossing. We did not encounter large seas, and we did not get too sick for most of the trip. If we had waited for the perfect wind, we might have had to spend some time in France, waiting for a large storm to pass and then head down. 

• Analog clocks
  • When you are on a watch and waiting for your replacement to come, you become slightly edged when they do not show. You feel you want to be polite and not wake them, as they might need sleep, but at the same time, you are tired too. When we entered Spanish waters, our phones adjusted times differently, leading to a discussion about how many hours you had been on watch and how many the others had been sleeping. 

• Sail Plan
  • Have a plan for which sails you would use and how to set them up before departing for a 4 to 5-day sail. This will save many hours of reading books, as there is no internet to do a quick search. 

• Snacks
  • This was mentioned to us by fellow sailors to lift the mood. Sweet treats at specific times in the day cut through the monotonous days. We found having pistachio nuts the best salty snack, as it allows for some action, too (peeling them seems like fun when there is nothing to do, chuck shells overboard). 

• Keep warm
  • During the day, it is hot, but by 10pm, things change, and you have a cold wind blowing on you. We sailed in full-sailing gear during the evening and, thanks to Djell, had waterproof beanies to keep our heads warm. A flask of coffee for the person on watch goes miles. Something warm to drink brings a sense of cosiness… though it calls for many breaks to the loo. 

• Crew
  • Consider an additional crew member if you sail with children or as a general. The extra hands and eyes alleviates the pressure of watch times and the occasional friction that will occur. Djell definitely allowed for a lighter and less stressed sail across.