Sunday 1st August
Dave got up for a swim straight off the boat. After breakfast we went ashore, and tried to see the church, but being the lunch period, it was again closed. We walked around the back streets, and picked on a bar. JP failed to make himself understood with the drink order, so the lady of the bar called her partner who was a German speaking perfect English. We walked on to the breakwater with tiered seating from which we had watched the rowing races two weeks earlier, and sat there eating ice creams. Back on the boat, we had another swim. Following supper, we went ashore for a stroll and steady-up, finding our way to an oldies bar on the front where Dave brought the average age crashing down. We returned to the dinghy just in time, as the tide was falling away rapidly.
We made a relatively early start in mist, making for Plencia. On the way we met quite a lot of shipping, either anchored, up-anchoring, or steaming in and out of Bilbao harbour entrance. JP reckoned that the 'Pride of Bilbao', coming out of the harbour on the start of her trip back to Portsmouth, could be held to be 'overtaking' and maintained his course. She turned behind, but JP was later seen to be reading up on Col. Regs. from the Yachtsman's Handbook in self-justification. We anchored off the beach, again in our favourite spot from the previous visit, and went for a swim. JP was over-enthusiastic with the snorkelling equipment, and got himself too far from the boat for comfort while seeing absolutely nothing but sand 10 metres below. The weather changed, and the wind blew from seaward for a while setting up a scend, then reverting from the east but bringing rain. We had decided to go out for a meal, and as we motored over in the dinghy to the river mouth, it began to rain more seriously. The outboard, meanwhile, was suffering from the foul petrol we had bought, and only just stuttered along to the harbour. Dave stepped smartly ashore, followed by Mo, who had our rubbish to dispose of. JP tethered the dinghy and set off in pursuit. Mo selected one bar, buzzing away, but this was because it was the local fast food joint and flooded with kids. We had one drink, then fled through the rain to another bar, this time filled with old biddies playing cards. Another drink there, and with it still raining, we were becoming desperate. We found another bar, and noting that they had a few tables set for eating, we piled in. It was a superb find. There was a resident ex-pat who interpreted for us, and the dishes came. The first starter came, and was almost sufficient for 3, followed by the next, and finally by the main course. The sea bass was delightful, and Dave enjoyed a steak. It was a bit expensive, but it was a lovely meal. The rain had almost stopped, and we found the dinghy about to be lifted by its painter out of the water, but managed to get the bowline undone. Piling in, the outboard staggered into life, then died in midstream. The tide was rushing out. JP got it going again, but as we were being swept through the rapids over the bar, the motor stopped again. JP realised we had something in the prop, but it took a while to realise that it was the extension of our own painter that was holding the motor firmly in the locked down position. While Dave said his prayers, JP got his sleeves wet fumbling with the rope under the water, finally clearing the propellor and getting us back onto Fuga in one piece. We had coffee and a night cap to de-traumatise ourselves, and turned in.
It was raining, and a little misty, so JP decided to get up and move the boat before everyone else came too. Mo however was soon up and about. With the improved information on the computer navigation screen JP decided to cross over the submerged breakwater, and set up a route accordingly. In the event there was a clear 12 metres and all of the locals were going across. We moored at the Club Maritimo in the same berth as previously and had breakfast, as Dave had now emerged. Mo and Dave went off to get some shopping, and on their return we had lunch, following which Dave got some shuteye down below. The weather had not improved, and it was quite cold, certainly not sunbathing weather. Mo initiated Dave into the mysteries of Backgammon, then Dave went ashore for a shower while Mo cooked supper. JP was wrestling with the problem with the Sea-Me, trying to compose a suitable mail, but failing to get it away as the computer had also developed a problem with its Bluetooth facility by which it talks to the phone. After supper, we all walked ashore to the taxi rank by the transborder bridge to see Dave off to the airport. JP and Mo sat in the cockpit, relaxing, and hoping to catch sight of the Easyjet taking off, but in the end were not sure which aircraft it was.
JP had a bad night! Not only were there the usual visitations by mosquitos, but at some point he woke to a steady drip and an unpleasant smell. He found the toilet overflowing with a backflow from the holding tank, and slowly filling the shower tray. (The toilet pump had been progressively deteriorating in performance, and was exhibiting its 'dead spot' symptoms requiring a kick to start it). JP bailed out with a bucket and sponge, followed by some disinfectant, and returned to bed. So we were not early getting going again. JP offloaded the bad petrol we had bought at Gerteria to the marina manager, and we filled up with water prior to leaving the marina. There was a regatta starting, with the first leg to Santander, and a second leg to Gijon, so we left the marina in time to watch the start of the race. There were about 25 boats taking part. It seemed a bit chaotic, and there were lots of recalls around the ends of the start line. We just made it over to the new marina, and berthed on the working pontoon so that JP could pick up the alternator he had ordered. He returned with this and a shower fitting for the cockpit shower. After this we re-fuelled with diesel and we hope good gasolina aided by a really pleasant and very helpful marina chap. After this, we went a little way out of the harbour and dumped the contents of our holding tank, before returning to our usual spot off the Real Club Maritimo for lunch. Mo defrosted the fridge. JP dismantled the toilet pump, replacing it with the manual pump that Phil and Francis had brought out to us at Vannes. He then took the pump to pieces, and attended to the motor brushes once more, before partially re-assembling it. Supper was very late, and we collapsed into bed soon afterwards, having set the alarm for an early start in the morning. JP had been irritable and a bit depressed about the lack of progress, and seemingly endless stream of problems preventing us from sailing westwards.
Another bad night for JP! More mosquitos! But this time we should be thankful for the little blighters? JP was tossing and turning, while the weather outside, which had not improved since Dave left, but rather deteriorated, kept us lively. As the wind died down, JP could discern, in addition to the bobbing of the dinghy behind, a certain trickle, slosh.. that seemed closer at hand. He got up, and stepping into the heads, found he was ankle deep in water! Having been up earlier in the night, he had left the manual pump lever to 'flush' rather than 'empty'. Fuga's toilet being below the waterline, had simply filled up with fresh sea water. The cardboard box of toilet spares and parts was floating in the shower tray. The shower pump did sterling service, but required the removal of the greasy human detritus from the water filter (in the cockpit locker) that protects the pump before it would work adequately. When the alarm went, JP switched it off and went back to sleep again. Eventually we came too, and had breakfast. But we were out of most supplies, so had to go shopping. This required draining the last of the foul fuel from the outboard, and mixing in the 2-stroke oil, before refilling it. We staggered back to the boat with two haversacks, a granny trolley, and shopping bags full of food and drink. After lunch, Mo started cooking up some of the goodies we had bought. JP went up the mast, to try to fix the tricolour lamp, and to remove the Sea-me radar transponder. He failed to get the lamp apart, and had to return with that and the Sea-me that he had cut free. This exercise revealed that it was a problem with the in-mast cable that was preventing the Sea-me from working, as it worked fine when wired in at the chart table. Getting the tricolour apart took some frustrating hours to work out, lots of WD40, and a chain wrench. After supper, JP managed to get some e-mails away using the infra-red connection to the phone. And so to bed, setting the alarm for a good day tomorrow?
We had a cup of tea, and contemplated the jobs list in bed. After breakfast, we dismounted the small outboard from the dinghy and swapped it with the large outboard. JP wanted to check that the new fuel had solved the problem. JP went ashore to buy some cable for the Sea-me, finding the outboard back to normal. On his return he prepared to go back up the mast with the tricolour lamp, Sea-me, cable, and the necessary tape, cable ties and tools. The tricolour was soon mounted and tested ok, the Sea-me unit likewise. However, the new cable, joined to the old cable so that the old cable could be used to pull it down the mast, came adrift, and the old cable remained stubbornly in the mast. JP shouted to Mo to pull it out - she did, but only about 6 feet came away. Back down the mast, JP drilled out the rivets holding the fairlead for the topping lift, that emerges higher up, and we were able to retrieve the broken end through this, along with the broken mouse line that Mike had used knotted around the old cable. The cable was apparently jammed by the main halyard in some way, and clearly this had led to its failure. After this, we luckily managed to withdraw the rest of the old cable. Back up the mast, JP tried to feed the new cable down, but that became stuck. So we got out the mouse line again, and tried to get that down the mast. Initially we had no problem, but the first attempt at joining mouse line and cable left JP with a cable, and Mo with the mouse line down inside the mast at the bottom again! On the next attempt, JP made a much more thorough join, but at lunch break, the cable was down the mast, but jammed, and JP's nice reactolite glasses were on the bottom, some 10 feet behind where Fuga had been at the time they were knocked off his nose. Fortified by lunch, it was time to go back up the mast. The cable seemed to come free (we had let go all the lines, including the lazyjacks, so had mainsail all over the cabin top), and eventually the join was made, wrapped in self-amalgamating tape, and clipped on. By the time JP donned snorkel, mask and flippers to look for his specs, the wind had shifted from NW to E, so the search area was decidedly difficult to determine. Although at low tide there was only 4 metres, JP noticed that a fish that swam underneath him was barely visible, and Fuga's keel was hazy from alongside, so there was no chance of finding the specs except by sheer fluke. The Sea-Me worked, however. Mo took a sailmakers needle to the top batten pocket on the main, and sewed that back where it was coming adrift. 3 jobs off the list, plus the main halyard perhaps running more freely again?
We were up very efficiently, and had breakfast before embarking on a final shopping trip. We landed at the fishing harbour inshore of Getxo marina, which saved us a little way on our walk up to the shops. Having coming this far somewhat reluctantly (wanting to get on with the main job of the day) JP suggested that we walked to the old port. This in itself was not exciting, but climbing the steps (with 2 gaz canisters in our trolley) we found the old village quite attractive with lots of eating places. This brought us out into a smart part of Algorta, beyond the point we had reached on previous occasions, so we had to walk back to the hardware store and supermarket. The owner of the store again had no full gaz bottles, but swapped two half full ones for nothing. He was off on his holidays after today, and the shop would be closed. We had a chat about chandlers, the expense of the marinas, and the lack of moorings for boats that suppressed demand. Mo meanwhile was filling a trolley full of goodies, but no wine or beer. She planned a major cooking spree to avoid the need to cook either going along or in places where it was less convenient. On return to the boat, we stowed the shopping and up anchored and motored into the Yacht club marina. After lunch, JP started on the removal of the old alternator, and replacement with the new one, combined with the Sterling charge regulator. Hitachi had thoughtfully added a wire coming out of the alternator, which JP hoped would be the field control wire, and so gambling on this he fitted the alternator without first taking it to pieces. Having less paint splattered on it by Yanmar, the spacer went in more easily, and the main problem was routing the wires and removing the sticky electrical tape in which the engine wiring harness had been wrapped. We stopped for a brief snack only, and it was late when we tested the alternator with the charge regulator, and JP thankfully concluded that the field control wire was indeed the new wire provided and so we were able to make the final connections with apparently satisfactory results. The shore power had charged up the batteries so only time will tell.
JP was up early as he had had a bad headache that came on late the previous evening, along with several other aches and pains: neck (the regular one), tooth, and shin seem to come to mind. All these appeared to recede, as Mo provided a quick breakfast. JP was not in the best of spirits by any means, having tried and failed to remove the generator cover. Two of the three allen screws were now naff, and would have to be drilled out. JP wanted to get out of Bilbao at any cost: Mo wanted to finish jobs and complete her cooking. We had an inconclusive discussion, then Mo went shopping for eggs and bread. The previous day, JP had had a conversation with O2 about the contract, and the lady had agreed to change the basis, as we were paying high standing charges from which we were getting no benefit outside the UK. In the afternoon, the phone had gone off line. JP had been furious, and so tried again to talk to O2, using the local Spanish Movistar phone. O2 explained that they had cut us off once more because of the high call charges, this time without any warning. On Mo's return, JP grumpily concluded that if Mo was busy, he could find jobs to do. He then slowly became more amenable and constructive. While Mo produced Mosoulet and roasted a chicken (again found with its head on) to complement last night's Spag Bol, JP got on with re-mounting the generator fuel pump and filter. Naturally, this required Mo's immediate assistance when he started to spill diesel all over the bilges. JP then made and fixed some wooden catches for the engine side cover, that had always been a problem. After lunch, we turned to the next job on the list, the engine oil change. Again, this required Mo's urgent assistance on a number of occasions, including a trip into the lazarette to get a bottle to put waste oil in. Mo has been suffering from a painful left shoulder since Wednesday, and it had been suggested by JP that she should take things easily. Unless, of course, JP wanted something fetching or doing.
The speed transducer had been reading low, or not reading. When withdrawn from its housing, it was surprising it worked at all, given the weed and barnacles encrusted on it. We topped up with water, scrubbed the decks a little, and finally left the marina rather late in the day to take up our usual anchorage just outside. We relaxed with a shower, drinks and supper, wondering where to go tomorrow.
The heads was now on manual operation, and we had learnt that as it was below the waterline and had no anti-syphon devices, it had to be kept on 'pump out' and with the stopcock closed. Not defeated in its attempts to persecute us, it has contrived that the stopcock (unused to doing any work) should itself spring a leak. Mo had instituted a drip bowl, but even this had overflowed overnight. We therefore toyed with the idea that we should have Fuga lifted out of the water, so that we could replace the stopcock. To make it worthwhile, it would be good to do the anti-fouling, which will be needed anyway before the winter. Mo is suffering from a pain in her shoulder, and had been trying to rest it, so this did not fit in well with rubbing down for antifouling. JP decided to buy the replacement valve gear while he knew a chandlery that stocked it, and so after breakfast and another go at the log transducer sped over to the new Getxo marina. The transaction took a little time, as the Spanish chap was reluctant to sell ¾ inch hose to fit ¾ inch fittings, as he thought the hose would not go on the fitting! A lady with a little English came out to interpret, and JP eventually persuaded her that at his risk, she should give him a metre. He explained (perhaps) that a little washing up liquid and hot water worked wonders! JP then tried to top up the mobile at a cashpoint without success: first find the cashpoint, then interpret the Spanish version of English! In the end, a man in a convenience store at the marina did the deed for him, but not for the amount he asked! Back on board Fuga, Mo had been busy getting ready for sea, stowing stuff. Having got the outboard on board, and dinghy on davits, we then took a look at the bikes that had resided tied to the shrouds for the month or so since we were first at Hondarabbia. JP's chain was in a sorry state, sections of links seized together so they had no chance of going over the tensioners after the sprockets. Each of the bikes had to be cleaned, lubricated, de-rusted as necessary, before being taken apart and then stowed together in the bike bag. The job took some time, but finally we were ship shape. Mo produced a chicken baguette on the way out of the harbour, and we felt a bit rusty as we hoisted the sails again. Spirits were high, and after debating possible destinations, we concluded that we should have a go for Vivero, about 200 miles distant, rather than a number of shorter alternatives that we did not really fancy for one reason or another. We enjoyed the sail, and in due course Mo produced a new version of Mosoulet with tagliattelle base that was most enjoyable. After this, JP was supposed to go down for a sleep. The wind, which had been following us, but slowly veering round to SE, now started to play tricks. We had dropped one reef in when JP noticed a dark cloud on the horizon, and going below he had suggested that Mo should keep a watch on the wind. Neither of us had banked on a complete change in direction. Mo found the wind was now NW, and increasing, so called JP up. We reefed the jib a bit, and then tried to put a second reef in the main, but this snarled up. JP rapidly donned wet weather gear and harness and went up to the mast to bring the sail right down. So much for sail handling from the cockpit! Although we were on the edge of the thunderstorm, we could see sheet lightening and the wind got up to 30 knots apparent in gusts. We could see a repeat of the experience out of Archachon, and so turned around and sailed for the entrance to Santander, that we had recently sailed past 5 miles off. At 0130, we were thankful to drop anchor off the beach inside the entrance.
Mo had not slept very well owing to her shoulder pain, and JP was brought into consciousness quite early by the slamming of the boom that we had not secured when we arrived. Mo decided to make some tea, but the generator spluttered and failed, and she had to resort to the gas kettle. JP concluded that it was probably a fuel supply problem, and began investigations, but rapidly became very depressed by this further episode. Such was his level of distraction that Mo missed out on a massage of her shoulder blade that she had been promised for making the tea. After breakfast, the pump was eliminated by supplying it with a local supply of fuel in a pyrex jug, and attention switched elsewhere. The bicycle pump method used before was tried, but inconclusively. JP did establish that the main engine was also out of sorts, as well as the generator, although it had run ok the previous evening. The fuel feed and return pipes were disconnected from the Christmas tree of connectors in the aft cabin wardrobe, and put into the fuel can in the aft cabin. This proved that engine and generator were both happy given a decent fuel supply. Finally it was Mo who made the breakthrough, by asking JP all sorts of questions, and finally challenging him to disassemble the Christmas trees to see whether a blockage existed in there (not an easy job, and therefore not voluntarily undertaken). Lo and behold, a gob of some black substance emerged from the fuel tap, and another from one of the other fittings. After lunch we had a short snooze, and the remainder of the day was taken up by re-building the fuel system and re-testing it. We briefly had time in the evening to enjoy our surroundings, before enjoying a shower and supper before going to bed with a book. Mo is still hoping for that massage.