Blue water at last

Nightfall in Biscay

We returned home to Falmouth, to take stock of our situation and say our goodbyes. Last minute checks of the boat, and stocking up with spares for the long haul took up most of our time before crossing the Channel.

The French coast has its attractions, but is not renowned for marine life. Bottlenose dolphins and basking sharks are occasionally seen around places like the Glénans, but it’s certainly nothing like as rich as Cornwall or Pembrokeshire. We saw a pod of Risso’s dolphins near les Sept Iles, but that was about it. And so we tied up in the lovely little port of Camaret for the winter, and caught up on work and preparing the boat ready for crossing Biscay the following spring.

Biscay is the first big “blue water’ hurdle, and for many crews we’ve met who have completed round the world voyages, the worst weather they faced over the whole journey was in Biscay. If the wind is from the west, the seas are huge, and you face a hard battle to fight your way out of the bay. If winds are from the east, it can be a wild ride down to northwest Spain in gale force winds, so either way you need to have a good boat, a strong crew and be ready to face the music.

But as is often the way, the tiger turned out to be a kitten, and we motored nearly all the way in flat calm conditions, baking in the sunshine reflecting off an indigo sea. Great conditions for spotting marine life though, and Biscay (especially along the shelf break) is well known for fin whales and other major cetaceans. We had common dolphins as companions day and night, as expected, and five orcas purposefully crossed our bows one morning, but, sadly, no great whales. But a major surprise (for both parties, I suspect) was when two beaked whales breached spectacularly several times right beside the boat, just as we approached the Spanish coast. No time to get a camera out before they were gone – but maybe that’s for the best, as a vivid memory is always better than a poor picture