Thursday 19 – Sunday 29 September
On Thursday afternoon we set off out of the Ria de Pontevedra in sun and haze, again spotting dolphins between us and the ubiquitous viveros. Less than three hours later, out at sea and rounding the Peninsula del Morrazo, all was flat calm and thick fog/sea mist, so with visibility of less than half a mile, we employed radar to help us keep a lookout for the many local vessels not transmitting AIS, thereby invisible on our chart plotter screen. The log records 23 miles of “a long, foggy, tedious motor” that was also cold and damp; indeed, winter/night passage thermals and waterproofs were deployed. At least once the mist lifted a little, the view was different, and at dusk we anchored just outside Moaña marina.
After a reasonably quiet and comfortable night, on Friday morning we called the marina manager, who welcomed us into a somewhat tricky berth at the inside end of the central pontoon. Skipper managed a neat three-point turn in a space just longer than the boat, to bring us stern to the walkway, so it was easy to chat to everybody and his dog as they paused to gaze in curiosity. We met a Welsh couple on an ‘Airbnb’ break, who live within 10 miles of our ‘home town’, and a couple of Irish guys taking their Westerly Oceanlord back to Howth, near Dublin, after a trip to the Mediterranean…of 14 years.
We can only hope they’ve had weather more favourable for their passage North than we are currently experiencing. Now in the last, Southernmost of the Rias Baixas, and only around 20M from the Portuguese border, all kinds of weather systems out in the Atlantic are causing swell that would be uncomfortable and winds that locally are either non-existent or from the wrong direction for us to continue our journey South. It is the time of the Autumn Equinox, when unsettled conditions are to be expected, and we knew, when we began our cruising season as late as the end of May from the far Southwest of the UK, that we would be likely to run out of easy Northerlies before we’d reached the Algarve, but it’s still a little frustrating. However, on the good side, it is much warmer this far South, and Mate’s just unearthed a Spanish phrase book, so she has something to fill spare time – for when we’re back in Spanish waters, after Portugal…
So, what to say about Moaña? Well, the tourist websites only mention it in passing, as a possible base from which to explore the interesting towns and sights of the area, which is not a promising beginning. The pilot book indicates a Sunday market on the waterfront…which there wasn’t, but we ended up there long enough to find a small market along the quay on Wednesday. Among the stallholders were a number of older ladies with a few items from their own gardens, and we had an interesting time trying to persuade them we didn’t need large quantities, but couldn’t understand their prices. Eventually, holding out a handful of mixed coins allowed them to take the right money – never more than a few cents and all very good-natured.
Skipper found an excellent artisan bakery; at least the “one for you, Señor, no charge” Florentine biscuit offered by an attractive young señorita seemed to go down well. Behind the pleasant sea-facing promenade of bars, restaurants, a bandstand and a large children’s playground, the rest of the town is sadly run-down: many shops are empty, graffiti adorns every available surface, and the Carrefour supermarket was the scruffiest and most chaotic we have encountered. Meanwhile, back at the marina, just the other side of the inadequate breakwater, the passenger ferry to Vigo (€2.25 per person per journey) comes in at a quarter to each hour between 0700 and 2200 Monday – Saturday (except for some unexplained reason at 1100 on Saturday), initiating a period of snatching ropes and lurching of every vessel in the marina, until it blows its horn lustily on departure on the hour and a collective sigh of relief is breathed all around.
For a modest mooring fee, we were able to take advantage of water and power to work through some of the jobs list, the persistent mist making a lie of the old adage that cruising is boat maintenance amidst attractive scenery, but soon it was time for another new view, and on Wednesday evening we wove our way out of the marina, much easier facing the direction of departure, even in a light cross-wind. Turning Northeast once clear of the viveros, we motored in pleasant late sunshine under the 38.8m-high Rande suspension bridge that spans the narrowest point of the Ria de Vigo, up into the Ensenada de San Simon, where we found an attractive anchorage in the SW corner, whose main entertainment was a railway line running along the bank, a group of colourful kite surfers across the bay, and a family of seven swans-a-swimming, or eight the second morning. We enjoyed a peaceful few days of mellow mists and warm sunshine in calm waters, amidst lovely scenery… without ever venturing ashore.