Hendaye

Although I had enjoyed our visits whilst in Arcachon, I was not disappointed to be leaving the fishy smell of the Port de Peche.  We kept the engine running but hauled up the canvas while we were still in the basin.  It would take a couple of hours to reach the safe water mark at the end of the infamous channel and we had to get there by one hour after high water at the latest.  There were a few yachts about but no others were heading out.  We saw a vessel towing an unusual load, partly submerged. We think it was dredging gear but we at least recognised that all the day symbols and lights it was showing meant something!  The only other boat going our way was a large ferry full of tourists on a little “jolly” to see the sand dunes from the water.  It was quite packed on this warm, sunny afternoon and as we threaded our way through the red and green channel buoys we heard people shouting out from the tourist ferry and pointing at us.  We thought at first we were the centre of attention, being mad English yachtsmen, but when we looked out we saw that we had another dolphin escort! 

We were safely out of the shifting sands two hours after casting off and we turned onto our 198 degrees heading which would take us all the way into the entrance at Hendaye, a further 65 miles ahead!  Our only other concern was not to reach the firing zone too early!  It was active until 1800 and as it turned out we timed it perfectly.  It was warm enough to stay in shorts and t-shirts well into the evening and it was nearly nine o’clock when I finally went below to pull on some leggings and a jumper.

We were better prepared for night sailing this time, with a tin of cassoulet for supper with hunks of French bread.  Again we took two-hour watches, but Chris went first this time.  I tried to sleep as he clattered around because he’d had to gybe and we had the jib goose winged out!  At midnight, having slept little if at all, I took my watch.  It was a starry night and Chris had given me careful instructions as to what to do if the wind continued to veer.  I kept myself awake by singing quietly as many different songs as I could remember.  When I got bored of that I recited my times tables, backwards and set myself little challenges to work out.  There was nothing to report to Chris when he came back up at 0200 and his log notes for the next two hours show nothing significant other than the passing of a few clouds!

My next watch saw dawn break.  The smell of pine was strong.  I was under instructions to start the engine when it was light enough to see any “nasties” and so at 0610 on she went to keep the batteries charged.  Chris came back up to the cockpit soon after and I went for another sleep.  He didn’t wake me for the next lot of dolphins.  He says they were some 50 metres away so I didn’t miss much apparently!  He was also the sole witness to the depth gauge getting confused.  We were in charted depths of over 600 metres yet the instruments were showing 16.5!  With only 8 miles to go we could see the French coast in the haze, but still no sign of Spain.  The wind had really dropped and so had our speed now that the engine was back off, but we were happy to sail slowly in the warmth of the early morning sun.

We had visitors at 9.00am.  Not more dolphins, Douanes Men (Customs) from St Jean de Luz.  How they knew we were there, we’re not sure, unless they were tracking us on radar overnight.  We hove to, so they could board and we bobbed around within sight of the French and Spanish border while the friendly enough officers satisfied themselves with all our documentation.  By the time they had left it was very warm and time to get back into shorts.  We were not bothered by the delay they had caused because it was around low water and we were happy to wait until the tide was well on its way back up before we entered the channel.  In fact, the wind was also so light that we were not berthed until 1150.  We were surrounded by mountains, in a modern marina with all the facilities, a gorgeous sandy beach a few hundred yards away and the sun was shining and hot.  We were more than happy with our voyage and our chosen port of call.

In fact, within a couple of days we realised this would be a good place to get some jobs done on the boat and so contacted Chris’ parents to send our new radio licence to the Bureau de Port.  We have heard that the Spanish Authorities can be quite strict on these things and so we were pleased to have the opportunity to get a few things sorted while we waited for the post. 

Hendaye seems to be a rather “up-market” holiday resort.  Due to its close proximity to Spain (the river is the border) many things are labelled in both languages and so we are breaking ourselves in gently with the idea of conversing in Spanish for the first time.  Both languages seem to be spoken and just to confuse us further, this is Basque Country, and that has a language all of its own!  The cash machines at the banks say that they distribute both francs and pesetas but we were unsuccessful in our attempts to obtain any Spanish currency that way.  Whenever we hear Spaniards talking we both feel overwhelmed at the speed at which it all rolls together.  Some fourteen years ago I passed a Spanish O’level but I’m not sure what good that is going to do me!

One unusual feature is the local airport runway, which juts out into the river.  Twice a day jet planes land, and usually they approach directly over the yachts moored outside the marina.  We tried for several days to get a photo as one flew over but we usually missed, it wasn’t until Thursday, our seventh day, that we finally managed!

 Generally the weather has been amazing.  Hot, humid and sunny.  One evening though, just as we were sitting down to dinner the heavens opened.  The rain was torrential and the wind gusted around causing all the halyards to clink on the masts, as the yachts were effectively jet-spray cleaned.  I was pleased I hadn’t bothered getting the hose out earlier that day!  Several evenings later, the harbour master came scurrying along the harbour wall telling everyone that strong winds were imminent, in the next five or ten minutes.  Hurriedly, we folded away the bimini, which had been providing precious shade all day.  We wondered how he knew and then, as I glanced at the mountains on the Spanish side, I realised…there was a waterfall of cloud cascading over the peaks.  Sure enough, within minutes there was a wind gusting between 30 and 40 knots.  We were very glad to be safely moored on our pontoon.

On Friday morning, the harbour master kindly delivered our post to us!  We were relieved to be able to display our up to date radio licence and with a Spanish courtesy flag purchased from the local chandler, and some pesetas exchanged in a bank, we were ready to plan our next move.  The north Spanish coast is dotted with little harbours, rivers and fishing ports and we are keen to do a few smaller hops with shorter stays.