Nazare turned out to be my personal hell. We probably would have spent a couple of days in Nazare and moved on had it not been for a broken wind gen pole that needed some welding done. A job that could have taken half a day, took a week to get sorted. Days rolled by with very little progress and a lot of gib gab. I watched our weather window to cross to Madeira fade away as the chap closed shop with only 5 minutes of welding left to do. Friday came and our welding chap disappeared for the day (along with our weather window), came back, disappeared, and then finally finished off the job. We’d waited all day for a 5 minute job to be finished. There’s nothing more frustrating than knowing how quick a job should take, and then see it split over multiple days. In this time we couldn’t leave the boat in case we were needed, so we ended up hostage in a post apocalyptic marina than smelt of fish guts and seagull shit.
On a side note. We couldn’t use the cooker for a week as we had to take out the gas bottle to gain access to the wind gen pole, so the little camping stove I bought years ago has been our savior once again. I recommend all sailors have one.
On the only positive note, is that the work is OK and the wind gen pole is now solid as a rock. A thousand times better than before.
With one thing fixed, something else had to of course break. Next the toilet blocked up. The loo pipe runs under the toilet, up to the sky behind one cabinet, back down behind another, then under the sink and then under some floorboards and finally to a seacock. Finding the blockage would be impossible so Trina removed the old pipe, the calcification is pretty bad so we’ll get a new one in Lisbon.
So we’ve resorted to peeing in buckets and old measuring jugs. Trina measured out 600 ml one night.
Because of the delay and some gnarly weather that’s now come about, we’re heading to Lisbon and down to Lagos instead of Madeira. Time is flying by, and our rough plan is to head to Morocco, perhaps Essaouira or Rabat.
Nazare to Lisbon
On the morning of our escape from Nazare Trina woke up with a duff shoulder and was out for the count, dosed up on co-codamol.
So with crew down, and an empty 5ltr water can for a toilet, I packed up the boat and slipped the lines and got the hell out of there thinking ‘I never want to f@cking see Nazare again!’. I honestly thought we’d never leave and that we were characters in a Stephen King novel. Two unsuspecting sailors turn up in Nazare with a small repair job, and are unknowingly kept there by the locals forever. You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave!
The electronic compass also decided to stop working, so I motor sailed and hand steered until it rectified itself sometime in the afternoon. Still, we were out of Nazare and on our way.
Trina came to, we had dinner, took a few shifts.
We came into Lisbon in the early hours.
We’ve arrived at a few places at night now, and it’s been fine. I used to only go into new places in the daylight, but as time goes on I now just do a quick check of the charts (Trina checks the pilot book out) and get going.
Weather wise we’ve been exceptionally lucky in some respects. We haven’t had any bad weather at all. From London to Lagos (bit behind on blog posts) we’ve either had no wind or enough to sail. Never a dicey moment. We haven’t had any real tests of endurance, or had time to gain confidence in the boat or ourselves in bad weather. Saying that I know the boat will serve us well, and we’ll only learn by being out there.
So now we’re in Lisbon. Times ticking and there’s a hurricane coming our way.
This is a seagull on our pontoon in Nazare pecking at the head of a decapitated fish one morning.