The usual trip: Gatters to Compostella to Coruna.
We like Coruna Marina and La Coruna generally.
The tall ships were visiting. We had a look around and had ice creams.
Tall ships (sorry about the motor boat)
13 August
To Viveiro.
It all started very pleasantly apart from the absence of wind.
Towards Viveiro
Is it possible to get a radar reflection off a gannet? I suppose it depends on what it's eaten?
Suddenly, just as the fog was thinning, our trusty engine almost stopped. There was no bang or suggestion of an impact on the prop, so we assumed it to be a fuel blockage rather than "a sterngear entanglement". Anyway, the engine didn't quite stop and appeared to half recover. It would still go but lacked much of its former umpphh.
We found our way iunto Viveiro anchorage.
We like Viveiro.
Beer can be good for itchy wasps stings but should not be mixed with Stugeron.
Beer
I slept for 13 hours.14 August
Got to fix the engine.
Drained fuel-water separator. OK.
Disconnected fuel pipe to primary filter and blew through it. OK.
Checked gear box oil. OK.
Checked back of engine, prop shaft, no leaks, engine oil, coolant. OK.
We flubbered ashore and went for a walk. Later we had a swim around the boat.
15 August
We motored to Ribadeo.
No wind. Some fog. Half an engine. Some white exhaust steam at 2100 rpm, but otherwise the engine seemed happy if feable.
16 August
By now I was so obsessed with the engine that I failed to notice that Ribadeo is in fact a very pretty and interesting seaside town and ria. Instead I went for an unpleasant swim to examine the prop. It was covered in barnacles but, in the absence of my spectacles, rather out of focus. I had a look at YBW's opinion(s) on the matter .. the consensus was that I had a blocked primary filter ... having not realised that this was something that needed replacement and having had the same one in place for 7 years I thought that we may have struck gold. It was dirty, I replaced it.
17 August
We had a second day in Ribadeo. Jean went for a run. We went for a walk. A very fast-looking 50-footer ran aground in the marina entrance.
18 August
Time to go. We ran aground in the marina entrance.
The engine was no better.
The distances between harbours and sheltered bays along this bit of Northern Spain are quite large, especially in the absence of wind and ... you guessed it ... a decent motor.
We had a wide assortment of passage plans, none of which provided us with a Nearby Easy Warm Friendly Sheltered Anchorage off a Beautiful Sandy Beach Inhabited only by by Scantilly-dressed Sea Nymphs. So we went to Cudillero instead.
Cudillero
Mooring in Cudillero is different.
We had checked The Almanac, The Cruising Guide, The Cruising Association, The Web ... etc.
Basically, Cudillero is a very pretty fishing harbour (with a slightly concerning entrance) that provides a number of yellow marks for visitors. The idea is to attach a rope from a yellow mark to your bow and a rope from a yellow mark to your stern.
The yacht next to the only remaining gap in the row had 3 yellow marks on its forward deck and another on its stern. A smashed-up rowing boat next to this contained 2 yellow marks as well as various items of rubbish. There was a yellow mark floating between the yacht and the rowing boat.
We picked up this mark and then reversed to the rowing boat and grabbed one from it. This may sound easy but wasn't. We ended up parked uncomfortably and diagonally between the aforementioned vessels.
A dutch (probably) gentleman rowed out to us.
I explained that we had a problem.
He realised that the problem was simply that I hadn't any idea what I was trying to do.
Eventually we picked up one yellow mark, and followed the two lines attached to it, one to our bow and the other to our stern.
We slept well.
Cudillero is probably very pretty.
19 August
We needed an easy port with an English Speaking Yanmar Engineer.
Gihon ..... here we come.
Gihon is a large friendly prosperous hot sunny place with a huge easy marina and a Major Yanmar Agent Who Speaks English.
The visitors are segregated into their own area of the marina, which is pleasant sunny and secure. Most days the Customs Officers visit in their RIB. The Customs Officers were deeply concerned to hear about our ailing engine and visited every day in order:
1. To find out how we were
2. To find out how our engine was
3. To make additional suggestions about what might be wrong with it.
Occasionally, another Official visited to check that the Customs Officers had visited.
Gihon (near the marina)
The marina office is staffed by very nice ladies who speak english.
One such lady arranged for an engineer to visit "at 3.30" (pm).
Around 1800 two men turned up. They didn't know what was wrong with the engine.
They would send The Boss. "This evening or definitely tomorrow".
He didn't appear. We phoned. "Will be there at 3.30".
Two days later he still hadn't appeared.
I did some more research. "Might it be a blocked Exhaust Mixing Elbow ?" I wondered.
I dismantled the elbow and broke a crucial bolt.
We visited The Main Yanmar Agent who did speak English and was very helpful. He would order me the replacement bolt. "Either Monday or Tuesday, if not in a week or so, and I will call you back on Monday anyway"
No bolts arrived.
Gihon bottle sculpture
Martin arrived (Gatters to Bilboa plus overnight bus, and drama, eventually to Gihon).
Having been kept abreast of developments, he arrived with much of the engineering equipment available at B&Q and (my favortite chandler) Screwfix. I used this equipment to damage the engine a little more.
I am unable to remember the exact moment when Jean said "Why don't we go home" but I do remember thinking "Yes!"
Gihon (Spain) to England is a long way but we had Martin with us.
Martin knows about sailing, doesn't require sleep, never gets cold or cross and is generally a very nice chap.
We needed a passage plan.
We would set off north and see where we ended up.
The weather was settled and apart from the forecast wind direction (north) and wind speed (F1-3) and the absence of a reliable engine (not to mention poorly navigation lights and a flickering plotter) everything looked perfect.
We botched together the exhaust and agreed that no one would sleep below when the engine was running (for fear of dangerous fumes).
And off we went.
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