Spain in the horizon

The voyage continued across the ocean, and life on board settled into its routine at sea, but the weather never allowed it to become monotonous. An east-bound crossing does not benefit from trade wind sailing. Instead, we ride the low-pressure systems that roll across the North Atlantic.

What this means for us is a long game of strategy with the ever-changing weather forecasts, and lots of sail handling for all hands. We sailed in every possible sail configuration the ship has to offer, from chasing every last whisper of wind with the large fore-course to trotting along close-hauled with deep reefs in the sails.

For nearly three weeks, we saw no other human life outside the little world of the ‘Oosterschelde’. Around halfway through, we did, however, stumble into a large migration of wildlife. One morning, we were regaled with whales, orcas and dolphins crossing our path. They must have been chasing a migrating shoal of tuna, for that was the moment we finally hooked a sizeable skipjack tuna that fed everybody for two meals.

Over two and a half thousand miles and seventeen days later, we start to hear Spanish on the VHF. Spain is slowly becoming visible on the horizon by presenting us with the Costa da Morte – the Coast of Death.

The dramatic name for this coast is attributed to the spectacular cliffs and rocky shores that became the tragic scene of numerous shipwrecks when Atlantic trade in the area intensified in the 19th century. While uncharted rocks may still be peppered around this coast, modern technology has made this stunning sailing area less treacherous than it once was.

Tonight, we will proceed to anchor in a calm bay near a small fishing village before finally heading into A Coruña.