Lisbon to Sines

Guest Blog; Chris and Michelle Becque

We were really looking forward to joining James and Nicky for part of Seastar’s journey South, but we didn’t anticipate just how special it would be.

Prior to travelling we had felt underprepared, so had dutifully invested in a couple of books on Lisbon and the coast, the aim being to get up to speed in quiet moments. However, one of us, who shall not be named, managed to leave both books in the Uber so we were found wanting pretty quickly. 

Not to worry, being experienced sailors and hosts, Mr & Mrs Hole had itinerary options already prepped and so off we went to Sintra – the old town on the hill with fantastic views down on Lisbon and the coast. There’s a Disney like castle to see, beautiful gardens and a monastery. Unfortunately the Portuguese here (like some parts of Spain according to previous bloggers), don’t welcome dogs to their tourist sites and El Tobos was persona non grata.  

Our books would probably have told us that (!), but we would have wanted the little fellow with us anyway, and there were plenty of equally disappointed Portuguese dog owners.  Plus it gave us an opportunity to see James’ “quiet diplomacy” in action as he discussed various sensible, but apparently unacceptable, compromise options with overly pompous local officials. James for Brexit minister I say!  Nevertheless, by taking it in turns to look after Toby, we still had a lovely afternoon walk in the shadow of the monastery with absolutely stunning views, followed by afternoon Tapas of sardines and beer (of course). 

Once returned to the boat and freshened up, we were entertained by the gent on the expensive motor launch from the pontoon next to us, demonstrating how not to moor up. 

After trying a couple of times and failing, he seemed to decide that the problem was his speed and that somehow approaching faster would help. With his foot flat on the gas he reversed in, hit the pontoon and catapulted his wife from the top deck to the lower dining deck, with her fall broken (luckily?) by the railings. Having watched helplessly we rushed to ask after her and he said (with all the nonchalance of someone who’s wife had been lucky enough to be run over by an ambulance), “no problem we have a doctor on board”. They wrapped a scarf round her head helped her off and went merrily ashore to get her checked out properly.

With the goose pimples of helplessness receding, we also went ashore to explore the pretty streets of Cascais itself and enjoy some terrific Portuguese cuisine…and wine…and port. We learned that late at night after too many bottles of wine it probably isn’t the right time to consider training to be a Port connoisseur mainly because the next day you can’t remember which you preferred – hey ho.

Day 2, and after a lovely omelette breakfast courtesy of Nicky, we left the marina (uneventfully), but not before the “next door” party returned. Apparently everything was OK as his wife only had a couple of cracked ribs – that’s alright then.

James gave us our safety briefing, and I took away from it that if anything happens to James and Nicky we’re stuffed.  Next trick is to learn the ropes which means pull and pull whichever one Nicky and James point to. With the mainsail and Genoa raised we got our first taste of what Seastar can do in a very light wind. I like to call it bobbing. We bobbed around in the Tagus estuary while we tried to assess why two guests, who had never, ever, been seasick before, looked greener than the Atlantic. I think the final decision was that one was experiencing that woozy feeling by being below deck too much whereas the other must have had some rather dodgy port the night before.

Having eventually established that neither of us would actually be calling for Huey at the back of the boat, James fired up the engine and off we trundled, suddenly all feeling much better.

It wasn’t long then until the weather caught up with the forecast and we got our first real chance to be under sail on Seastar. The skipper unleashed the discreetly coloured Gennaker and we were properly sailing – Fantastic ! 

By mid afternoon we rounded the headland south of Lisbon and passed Sesimbra, and by early evening James expertly anchored up in a beautiful, shallow bay called Portinho da Arrabida.

Clearly the first task is to get El Tobos on to terra firma and so the tender was “offloaded” (there’s probably a technical term) and the boys dutifully went ashore armed with poo bags. Unfortunately not armed with a lead.  Scouring the tide line we failed to find any old rope so there was nothing left to do, but to ask in a small bar. Apparently they didn’t have any form of rope, but, by chance, did have several sorts of beer and were happy for Toby to run free and keep the other clients’ children occupied so long as we partook.

Later, back on the boat, our host proposed a barbecue with the fresh sardines prawns James had procured before we left Cascais. I was intrigued to find out how one sets a barby on a boat without disastrous consequences. Once everyone was freshened up, James fired up the generator and plugged in the George Foreman grill ! I’m sure George himself would have been proud and I have to say it worked really well. Another fine meal in beautiful surroundings.

Day 3 – We woke up to a sunny yet misty morning and had breakfast with these stunning vistas. 

   

Once more Nicky did a fine job on omelette duty after which we went ashore en masse (with lead) for a day on the beach (ignoring the “no dogs” sign).

Back on the boat and the forecast was for a windy night so the skipper proposed moving further round the coast to Troia for more sheltered mooring in the marina. We motored round and saw our first sight of dolphin/porpoises (what is the difference and how do you tell?) only to find that lots of others had had the same idea and the marina was full. The harbour master kindly directed us to a sheltered anchorage a little further inland. Paella for supper !

Poached eggs for breakfast, a walk around the beaches for Toby and we headed off for Sines the final destination for the guests. 

Avoiding the shallow shelf we made our way about 8-10 miles offshore in some weird meteorological conditions: sea fog, dappled sunshine and a good but somewhat inconsistent breeze.  

Here was great sea sailing: with sails set and the autopilot engaged, we were making 5-6 knots and had a relaxing time reading, eating, sun bathing with no-one, or any land, in sight for hours. Bliss!

Come mid-afternoon-ish, the fog was thickening in patches and we heard the trumpet of a very deep foghorn. With nothing in sight except a deepening fog bank the news from the radar was that there was a ship about 2 miles away, stationary, but kind of in front of us. Making about 4 knots we headed on to the regular sound of two sharp blasts. 1 mile to go and still no sign of it, we plough on with the foghorn getting louder and visibility getting worse.

James then came on deck with what I can only describe as a quite large Kazoo. He waited ‘til the fog horn sounded and then blew two sharp blasts in response, then put it away.

Finally as we entered the fog bank we could see the bloody ballast ship off our starboard side. We missed it easily by at least, well, 500 yards. Meanwhile the fog horn blasts seemed to get louder and much more angry sounding even (or especially) as we passed.  Ever resourceful James retrieved a book from the cabin and found the translation for repeated two blasts of fog horn. Apparently the 2 blasts means “I don’t know what your intentions are!”, subtitled, please inform me. Clearly after 30 mins of no response it probably means something slightly more direct. As it turns out James 2 blasts on the kazoo in response meant we will pass you on our starboard side, which coincidentally is what we did. However, as we passed the ship, it’s difficult to believe that even when right alongside the ship, that James’ kazoo would be heard 40m up on the bridge, let alone a mile away!

Hey ho !

Coming out of the fog bank the sky cleared sun was out and then they came – the dolphins/porpoises. They’re so fast and all around – a joy to watch. But difficult to photograph!

Once successfully moored up in Sines and freshened up with a gentle sun-downer….

…we entered the town late, but quickly found a restaurant that not only provided drink and food late in the day, but also supplied children to entertain El Tobos.

A good night’s sleep on board followed by more poached eggs and we headed off into town. Famous as the birth place of Vasco Da Gamma, it’s an up and coming town with a Fort and a mix of pretty old town with an old (but still very active) fishing port and a huge modern freight shipping port. The museum has some interesting artefacts from many different eras (Roman, Moors, Christian times etc), but is somewhat incoherent.

It was therefore a day of very pleasant sight-seeing interspersed with eating (of course), a rather extended afternoon nap, and finished off with a very fine steak meal in a restaurant with a very charismatic, Johnny Depp like, owner. In fact we were spoiled for choice on interesting and quirky restos (and owners) and James and Nicky were lucky enough to stay on in Sines to check them out.

For our part, the next day we had to say our farewells and trundled off to the bus stop to travel to Lisbon. We had a half day enjoying the old town and the markets before getting our flight back to blighty.

What a fantastic time and what great hosts Nicky and James are. We ticked off all the boxes, be it “proper” sailing, great food and drink, topped off by the dolphins (or is it porpoises ?).

Thank you Mr & Mrs Hole, El Tobos and of course, Seastar! Bon fin de voyage!