The Bay of Biscay is home to one of the most difficult sea conditions in Atlantic. In the days before accurate forecasts, many merchant ships sank in the severe winter storms and the wave conditions caused by the deep Atlantic swell reaching the edge of the continental shelf and continuing into the relatively shallow bay. Few yachts depart for the Biscay crossing without a promise of a good forecast for several days. In reality, most yachts cross the bay in the gentle summer months, often motoring through calm water, just like Aliisa rounding the Cape of Good Hope in South Africa in late 2005.
A failed attempt at Biscay?
Nevertheless, the word "Biscay" for a european yachtsman has become a loaded word. A word loaded with storms, steep waves that push you to the end of the bay. A word loaded with the continental shelf, shallow water and extra dangers of the rapidly changing, low-pressure-dominated north Atlantic weather. This is, in a way, a seaman's tale. The Bay of Biscay is not dangerous, but it CAN be dangerous. The dangerous, vicious nature of Biscay comes alive in the winter, and autumn is the promise of winter. Therefore, crossing the Bay of Biscay in September is considered risky, as September carries the promise of winter, the promise of Biscay at its worst.
Whooooooaoaaaaaa
Have I created enough suspension about the mystical, stormy, dangerous Bay of Biscay? Good. El Mar del los Vascos, the Basque Sea or the Bay of Biscay is still ahead of us, as I write this. It's a body of water, and like any other, in bad weather, it makes your life miserable. But let's go back to the story and get back to earth. We're in Falmouth and I have a meagre update, covering 100 miles...
Falmouth to Camaret Sur Mer
Falmouth fitted the bill, the routine of ours: 24 hours at sea, one week in port. We arrived on a Friday morning and the next reasonable opportunity to depart came on the following Sunday. It turned out to be a fine day - one of the finest for a while. Unfortunately it was a fine September day with a morning temperature of little over 12 C. Fortunately our destination was south.
For the first time in ages, I saw the real deep ocean swell, the deep blue water and a miracle this year: wind on the beam! Aliisa was dancing at 6 knots towards France. We had a 24-hour window and attacking Biscay with its upcoming cold front and a complex low was beyond our capability and recources. Aliisa was happy for the 15+ knots but when the night fell and the wind died, she started to throw her modestly small rig from side to side in protest. Sick of the banging sails and speeds hardly reaching over 3kn, I started the engine. On an ocean crossing I would never do this, but now, we had our destination within 50 miles and headwinds forecast for the morning.
Camaret waterfront is attractive. Little alleyways between the buildings reveal home made art, galleries and cafes.
I had been anxious about the strong tidal flows (up to 6kn) in the French side of the English channel. Chenal de Four, at the NW corner of France was a pleasant surprise with less than 1kn tidal flows during our half-moon / change-of-tide passage. (I have never understood how to "time" your arrival somewhere on a yacht) As the morning broke, we were motoring into the sleepy little village of Camaret. Bonjour! Merci! Un Baguette! Yes please. And a one-dollar sparkling wine to go with it. Back to the boat for breakfast and then to sleep.
Six fishing vessels rot in the tidal pebble beach of Camaret inner harbour.
The town of Camaret and its ultra-protected little harbour.
Camaret Sur Mer
The initial feeling of arriving here was relief and joy. We never planned to include France in our travels but I am truly happy we did. No matter what they say about the "frogs", I found the people friendly and the town charming. There was a stark contrast to the English - perhaps a little conservative and depressive atmosphere. There was almost a mediterranean feel in the arty, bohemian(ish) town of Camaret. I don't speak french but I used pardon, merci, au revoir and tres bien as often and as much as possible. As I strolled to the bakery and news agent to get the morning croissants and the daily Herald Tribune, the people soon recognised my face and the smiles widened. I felt that I could easily become part of this small French way of life.
Building Suspension
A Hitchcock movie or the George W. Bush government works by building suspension that creates fear for something awful. The cleverly marketed possibility of evil will pull fear out from your spinal chord. It would be better to keep it there, to protect you by operating the normal self-protection mechanisms. But once it's pulled out from your lizard-level, instinctive brain and pushed into your guts, it's only a moment later when you feel the taste of it in your mouth. Well, maybe some people are more prone to feel the taste. Certainly we are living in a time when fear is the most effective way for controlling people's behaviour.
There it is, "The Bay", the much feared Biscay which every year beats the crap out of a few unsuspecting sailors. The last storm left a 6 meter swell, which we are now giving a day to recede, before heading out. The fear has played in our little heads and the Biscay causes more tension than any other leg on my voyage so far.
For those not caught in the fear-game, here's some ingredients:
Wikipedia: The Bay of Biscay is home to some of the Atlantic Ocean's fiercest weather. Large storms occur in the bay, especially during the winter months. Up until recent years it was a regular occurrence for merchant vessels to founder in Biscay storms, and many lives were lost.
Encarta:
Navigation is difficult and dangerous because of the prevailing north-western winds and a strong current.
Add to that the stories on the docks, the reports of delivery skippers and the mastless yachts in the marinas. Have I got you all excited? Maybe I got you laughing at me. Yeah, I know, we're a little soft and I've always been worrying about things too much. Nevertheless, we've procrastinated enough now, we've even waisted another beautiful day with the wind already good for us to go. Everything we do is slow. We sleep late. We missed the shopping before it was "siesta". (shops closes from 12 noon to 3 pm). Ansku needed to cook some food in advance, so we could eat easy in the remaining rolling swell. (The winds are forecast light and there's nothing worse than motoring in a rolling swell...) At the end we decided to take off early Sat morning, before dawn, 13 September. Destination? La Coruna is ok, if weather is good, we'll continue to Vigo around the corner. We'll see... Talk to you soon...
A lone surfer is catching a wave near Camaret. The swell was impressive but the surf was only good for a 6-second novice run.
