Salvador to Porto Belo

Leaving the inferno that was Salvador was uppermost in my mind but I didn't fail to feel the usual trepidation that arises before I embark on any passage. To leave the safety of the land, solidness, people, security, always feels to me a little sickening. I always tell myself that once I am going I will be fine and engaged, it always happens this way. I waved goodbye to my marina neighbours, one of whom told me to be careful, he knew a rookie when he saw one, cast my lines and made my way out into the bay. There's a little device on the hull, below the water level. It's a little paddle, it spins around when the boat is underway and I can record my speed and mileage covered. It's often the case when I'm parked up for a while that it gets clogged with marine organisms that love to weld themselves onto the bottom of my boat. It usually sorts itself out after a couple of miles but on this occasion there was no release, which only left one option, to dive down underneath and manually free the mechanism. Out came the diving googles and, having attached myself to the mainsail halyard, I lowered myself over the side. After several attempts with a brush, it started to spin again. Not the best way to start a passage, covered in salt, and with blue anti-foul under my toenails, but needs must. This passage took ten days and we covered over 1400 miles, with the set of the Brazil current giving a good tally on the daily miles. It's been the most educational and challenging passage yet that has given me a good variety of sea and weather conditions to deal with. The passage past Rio de Janeiro came with its own challenge, a huge oil field, transiting service ships and a passing 24 hour low which bought heavy weather, a lumpy sea and little sleep. With a couple more days of fair winds, and an early morning that found me sewing my Genoa on the foredeck in a flat calm, the barometer started to drop again, 5 bar in as many hours, quite a large fall, something was coming. The forecast foretold 20 knots of wind, a slight concern for me as it would coincide with my approach to port in shallows of 20meters and less. After taking some precautionary guidance from a friend, I decided to carry on heading west to Porto Belo, to arrive by 1600. The morning of the 29th started with heavy rain and variable winds, after a rough night, which then settled for a stiff southerly, not the proposed north easterly from the forecast, it was due to turn south later in the evening. Things creep up behind and before you know it, it's getting bloody windy, and getting stronger. The sea started to form big sucking surges of waves, rising high above, sweeping Aisling up to the crest, pushing her, then rolling on, then within seconds another one coming. Occasional crests breaking and pushing us right over. I was already double reefed, the Genoa came in completely and another reef could have been in order but I wasn't too keen on going up onto the deck in these conditions. At times of extreme gusting, the wind was screaming in the rigging, white foam appearing on the surface of the sea, sweeping clouds of spray as the waves break over the bow. Continual dousing of warm water waves into the cockpit, saturating me completely every time. Eyes watering with ingress of salt water, bracing at every lurch. The wind vane steering was coping amazingly. I took the helm and was amazed at just how much force and power was at work, this meeting point between wind, sail and hull. Hour by hour, the land creeping closer, becoming more tired, colder, wetter, craving a pause in the torrent. We rounded into the lee and the wind became less, the sea settled, and then a final approach into the bay in bright sunshine, no one could imagine what was going on in the eastern sea. To arrive to a place and stop is sublime. I dropped anchor in the pretty bay, surrounded by mountains of green, water of turquoise and a feeling of calm, and quiet victory. It's another bunch of experience under my belt, some lessons learned, some modifications to be made, some more confidence gained. After over 6000 miles since leaving plymouth I'm starting to feel like a sailor! These last days have been spent working on the boat and enjoying the calm. I will soon head to another nearby port to provision up and have a shower. I'm planning to meet a friend in Porto Alegre, about a 500 mile sail down the coast, and then on to La Paloma, a small town on the Atlantic coast in Uruguay.