Plugging away...

I'm anchored in a quiet bay sheltered from the North Atlantic swell near the north west section of northern Spain, just around the corner from Cabo Finisterre. We arrived last night in the dark, not a perfect time to come into somewhere new, but I needed to stop. After 28 hours trying to head south west, clawing a mile at a time, I'd had enough. It's obviously part of my character to want to do things the hard way. If I had stayed in Cedeira for a few days, the stress and strain of this last period could have been avoided. If going up the mountain today means I'll get wet, when tomorrow will be sunny, I'll go today. If it says "wet paint", or, "keep off the grass", well, you get the idea. Hovering somewhere between despairing and philosophical, it's interesting to ponder these traits. Perhaps the most important element is that I may learn something useful, trial and error has always been my way! Two nights ago I set off on a north Westerly beat, ran into the trailing quarter of a very ugly looking low, trolling past in a north easterly direction. It took 8 hours to get there, through the night. I knew that something was afoot when the wind grew, the sea started to stack up and the barometer fell 3 points in as many hours. Time to turn back, plugging my way through a lively sea, 8 hours to get back to where I had started from!  In this time, having had very little sleep, and spent most of the night avoiding fishing vessels, I thought it would be a good idea to have another go... 14 hours tacking into a horrible short sea and making 35 miles down the coast was enough to finish me off. As darkness approached, I looked at the chart and saw I was just two hours from what appeared to be a secluded anchorage. I turned south east and oh! What transformation, we literally ran and surfed at over 6 knots, an exhilaration, sheer pleasure. The sails burst with energy and she slipped effortlessly through the quartering sea. 

One day soon I hope that will happen in the direction I want to go! Most of this trip so far has been plugging into shitty seas up onto the wind, where every crash of the bow into the trough and every kerrang of the rigging seems to pain my heart and leave me feeling secretly miserable. A bit like having a Ferrari that had two tyres removed and someone put in the wrong fuel. The weather promises to change later today and tomorrow. I should get a northerly that will take me down the coast to southern Spain and then west Africa. In the meanwhile I'm going to rest up, fix some stuff and enjoy being upright 😊