Portimao - All Hammocked Out

Leaving Lagos after a week in the marina, we planned to anchor for lunch off the caves and then head onto an anchorage in Alvor for a few days.  The former part of the plan went well, and since Ian and Jo decided to join us we found an excuse to explore the grottoes once more!  It was a little choppier however, and Chris managed to keep himself dry by cowering behind Jo and me.  We were soaked but I was laughing so much I was nearly crying.

The pilot book suggests that it is best to go into Alvor on a rising tide so after lunch we lazed around in the sun for a short while and then headed off on the huge trip of two miles.  We knew it was shallow and that the bottom was sand with a tendency to shift but we were not confident that we could find a spot with enough depth all around to anchor.  Our depth alarm kept bleeping, even as we passed through the dredged entrance so we decided it would be best to sail on a bit further.  With only the jib up (Solent style!) we sailed to Portimao a further 4 miles along the coast.  We passed more beautiful rocky, sandy beaches and the inevitable concrete jungle of hotels that surround such good sunbathing ground. 

The entrance into Rio Arade became clear, with two stripy pillars with lights on either side of the moles.  We lined up the leading marks and turned into the river.  We had decided to anchor off the beach on the east side of the bay near the entrance and there were already a number of yachts bobbing gently in the sunshine.  The view was beautiful.  Golden cliffs smothered with green shrubs and Moorish style villas.  Even the high-rise hotels on the west side, in Portimao itself, looked OK in the sunset.  The anchor held firmly and we settled ourselves in, glad not to be among the noise of the marina and surrounding bars.

That evening I turned on the World Service just to catch up on a bit of news and to my horror heard that Arsenal had gone two nil down at Highbury to some unknown Ukraine team in the Champions League.  In desperation I tried 909khz and managed to pick up Radio 5!  The commentary, among all the hiss was excruciating, but I was confidently telling Chris it would be 3 - 2 by the end of the match.  Amazingly, it was a defender, Keown, who came to the rescue, scoring a further two goals (we had got one back earlier) in the last 5 minutes.  I can't believe we can still pick up 5 Live, but it's just as well!

We "vegged out" for a week!  Zephyrus was anchored a few boat lengths away and within a few days Lycka joined us having completed their repairs in Lisbon.  It was fun to be all together again and despite being the smallest of the three we hosted the first of a few "games" nights on La Premiere, teaching them Perudo (an Aztec dice game) which Hanna thoroughly enjoyed and insisted on playing again several evenings later, on Lycka!  Jochen revelled in a bizarre concentration game where each person who made a mistake was "marked" with the soot from the end of a burned cork, first on the end of the nose and then a big round splodge on each cheek.  Three marks and you were out!  I was so determined not to be marked that I concentrated hard but it was difficult being surrounded by Pinochio look-alikes!

We swam off the boat several times, among the fish!  It was warmish, but you had to keep moving!  The best bit was getting out and using the hot water from the solar shower to rinse off.  We even swam to the beach one afternoon but luckily Ian fetched the dinghy for the return trip.  Chris got the hammock out and started a bit of a trend among the other yachts in the anchorage.

In his quest for a newspaper on the Sunday morning, Chris bumped into an English couple from a very pretty yacht, which we had been admiring.  Despite being in a vague pre-breakfast state, Chris was clearly civilised enough to get an invite onto Scandar for drinks that afternoon.  She is a Hood 50, the biggest yacht we've ever been on.  Steve and Janet fitted her out, beautifully, themselves and have been cruising in her since 1998 when they crossed the Atlantic to the Caribbean.  It was good to chat with people with different experiences to ours although Chris is starting to keep articles from magazines that refer to places "across the pond".  Hmmmm.

Another British yacht arrived so we decided to introduce ourselves.  Simon and Alison left England about a month ago in their Swan 38, Roxi.  They are planning to cross the Atlantic with the ARC (Atlantic Rally for Cruisers) and need to be in Grand Canaria around November and in the meantime are enjoying cruising the same area as us.  They were meeting friends in Vilamoura and set off before us but we expect to catch up with them soon.  I'm keen to meet their cat, Mowli, who despite being eight years old has become the ship's cat and has apparently adjusted to her new lifestyle very well.  I think giving our cat, Eccles, to my sister was the right decision for us though.  My hair in the bilges is bad enough.  Eccles' would have been even worse!

We stayed a few more days than originally planned, partly because the weather wasn't up to much but also to get to know friends of Steve and Janet (who had gone on a yacht delivery job to Seville) called Mike and Ann.  They are living on a steel boat they built themselves called Mithril. (Those of you who have read Lord of the Rings may realise the significance of the name!)  The four of us got on well, spending time on board each other's yachts, swapping stories and experiences, including how to make the best use of mobile phone connections for email and websites!  We had thought we were quite ground breaking in having the laptop on board but Mike and Ann beat the lot - they have four!

After more than a week in Ferragudo, the name of the village on the east of the river, we started to plan our next hop, a short trip to Vilamoura.  This is the oldest marina in this area and apparently well established with all the facilities.  We wanted only a brief stop there, to catch up with chores such as laundry and then another short sail, fifteen miles, on to an allegedly stunning anchorage off Isla de Colatra, between Faro and Olhao.