| Chipiona to Rota 18th June 15 miles Low water springs in the middle of the day meant that we delayed leaving until well after lunch to avoid the shallow patch at the entrance. We motorsailed out to clear the westerly cardinal off Bajo Salmedina before broad reaching in a westerly F3 across a sparkling sea towards Cadiz Bay. We'd been told that Rota is a much nicer marina than the others in Cadiz Bay, but it gets booked up solid in the high season. It has a regular fast hydrofoil service across to Cadiz city, making it more convenience that the main Cadiz marina, which is a long walk through the docks to the city. We gybed round El Quemado port hand buoy to clear the northern edge of the bay. Leighton suddenly realised the US naval base dead ahead of us was the Rota he used to route voice traffic through during his time in the military. We enter the harbour with the Cadiz ferry hard on our heels and berth up alongside a Hylas 46. At one hopelessly optimistic time some years ago, we'd hoped to be able to buy one. Making some unfavourable comparisons with Makarma, it's a good thing we don't mind any longer that we never managed to afford one. |
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The toilet has begun to leak again so the hunt is on for a Henderson MarkV Diaphragm. We track one down in Gibraltar, but they aren't allowed to ship it to Spain. Reading in the pilot that Puerto Sherry has the best chandlers on this stretch of coast, we decide to sail there in the morning.
Rota to Puerto Sherry
18th June 5 miles
It's a glorious morning as we unroll the genoa to ease slowly across the bay towards the southeastern corner. A US submarine surfaces ahead of us and makes its way out to sea, and with much commotion from the dockyard, a US warship leaves the naval base behind us. They have to drop a submarine barrier across the entrance to let it out. The breeze has picked up, kicking up quite a chop, so it doesn't take long for us to reach the reception berth at Puerto Sherry. What a desolate place! The marina developers clearly ran out of money and abandoned the site before it was finished, leaving concrete skeletons open to the elements in between a scattering of finished apartment blocks. At the top end of the marina, standing next to a 5 star hotel, is an abandoned concrete shell, which could have been a multi-storey car park or a conference centre. It's now home to hundreds of nesting swallows. As the marina is privately owned, our Junta discount isn't valid, so the marina fees seem steep. We're assigned a very tight berth which in the lively cross-berth breeze makes for a hairy landing. At the second attempt we do it, not before we do a complete 360 between the pontoons. After a quiet lunch to settle our nerves, we go in search of a diaphragm. To our amazement, the first chandler we went into had the right one in stock. Triumph! Leighton tried to complain about the price until he saw the expression on my face.
We have a roasting walk along the coast path to visit the bodegas in Puerto de Santa Maria two miles away. The banks of the narrow river here are lined with bodegas housing barrels of sherry destined for export. They are attractively decorated and ornate, but inside flagstone floors and no windows keep them cool. Most of them are closed for the afternoon, but finding one open, we taste some sherry - not the best drink when you're thirsty! It's baking hot again the following day. We fix the loo (or rather Leighton does); restring the main traveller; clean and victual. Later we have the outdoor pool of the marina hotel to ourselves, and when it goes into the shade as the sun gets lower, we move inside to take a dip in the indoor pool and jacuzzi.
Puerto Sherry to ..........
23rd June 20 miles
Still tracking the weather, and with no sign yet of anything looking like an easterly in the offing, we give up on the idea of Gibraltar and decide that we'll head for the Algarve coast instead. We set out early in a light northerly. It is thoroughly pleasant drifting along at 3 knots or less in the slight swell, but it's quite obvious we aren't going to cover much ground today, let alone the distance to Portimao or Lagos. A slight sea breeze from WNW comes in mid-afternoon, so we alter course to the entrance to the Guadalquivir. We're thinking that we'll see if there's more wind tomorrow. So it's back in Chipiona. At minus 1 hour LW neaps, the depth at the entrance was 1.9m.
| Chipiona They are enlarging the marina by dredging a piece of marshy ground between the existing pontoons and the fish harbour. It's a little way into town, but it's delightful. A long promenade follows the river estuary shore past the old Phoenician fish traps in the shallows, which are still in use today. The promenade leads to the point on which stands the tallest lighthouse in Europe. This is hard to credit from the seaward, but standing at its base the height is impressive. Beyond the point a long sandy beach extends south towards Rota, which attracts hordes of Seville residents escaping from the summer heat inland. The town itself is a network of pedestrian streets lined with little shops. And we find a good-sized Supersol. With light unfavourable winds forecast, it is no hardship spending a couple of days here. |
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 Leighton on mission to clean up
the plastic in Chipiona marina |
We do something today we've never done before. With a northerly F4-5 forecast, we set out with the intention of sailing to Portimao. Once outside the shelter of the breakwater though, it's obvious that going to the Algarve, or anywhere else back up the coast will mean the wind on the nose, and it's blowing a steady 25 knots. So feeling like complete wimps, we turn around and within 20 minutes of leaving, we're back in our berth. Later in the day, a number of windblown yachts surf in from Ayamonte, dressed as if they've just crossed the Channel in a gale. One of the yachts turns out to be Sonara, with her Scottish owners we last met in Bayona. When we hear all about their decidedly windy downwind passage, we don't feel quite so bad about our decision to give the same trip upwind a miss.
| Chipiona to Mazagon 27th June 26 miles After refuelling with 150 litres of diesel, we set out in a westerly F3, just enough wind to sail despite a short choppy sea. Once that subsides, we have a calm and gentle reach up to the Huelva river and into Mazagon. Still no easterlies forecast - we're glad we didn't go to Gibraltar now or we'd never have got back in time. |
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28th June 36 miles
A gloriously clear and sunny morning and a light SW breeze, which makes the Guadiana pretty much on the nose. We tack along the coast and when we get fed up with looking at the industrial installations onshore, we tack out to take a closer look at one of the ships unloading or loading (we couldn't tell which) from one of the gas wellheads offshore. Harry is steering well even in these light airs. By 16.00 we haven't made much progress towards the Guadiana, and wanting to get in before nightfall, we put the donk on and motorsail until after supper. We pass the tunny nets abeam to port and approach the Guadiana bar at low water. The pilots say you need half tide or more to cross. Using C-map to avoid the worst of the shallows, and without much confidence they hadn't moved, we wound our way across the bar. We have 0.2 under the keel as we cross, which considering the wave height is much too close for comfort. Never again! The sun sets to our left as we pass along the long breakwater before entering the river and returning to our berth in Ayamonte.
Ayamonte Town Hall