In five weeks, we sailed the south coast between Portsmouth and Falmouth. As the crow flies, that’s an unimpressive 280 kilometers. Nevertheless, the winding coastline and a cruising speed of about eleven kilometers per hour meant many days of sailing fun – even if the wind was not always helpful and often enough blew directly in our faces. Anyway, the next beautiful bay is never far away.

Falmouth is our destination at the southwestern end of the island. There we wanted to slowly wean ourselves off the English countryside and head for Spain. A stopover in France – in Brest for example – was not planned. We were already familiar with the coastline there and wanted to test our seasteadiness for a few days at a time. So we studied the forecasts from the various weather models in good time to get a feel for the options available. We got the gist: It was never going to be perfect. So what to optimize for? As newcomers to offshore travel, we opted for moderate swell and, if in doubt, a little too little wind rather than too much. However, there was no wind in sight anyway, so the challenge was to avoid getting caught in the summer low-wind zones of the billowing highs. Of course, the models never agreed on exactly when and where to locate them.

While we waited, we passed some lovely time in Falmouth, a small town with a university buzz and beautiful scenery that we highly recommend as a travel destination. There we wandered the narrow streets, our bellies full of bagles, burritos and coffee. Surely, we spent time working on our passage checklist and fixing the resulting issues. There always seems to be a screw loose or a split pin wobbling somewhere. But finally it was time to set off.

The first evening brought us a dolphin show and we enjoyed our front row seats. The animals entertained us for over 20 minutes before it was too dark to continue watching them. Only the high-pitched squeaking and the gentle hissing in the water could still be heard.

Not entirely unexpectedly, some of the crew suffered from seasickness the next day. Fortunately, everyone soon got used to the motion of the boat. Nevertheless, there was little time to rest at first. Between the French coast with its pitfalls on one side and the traffic separation scheme of one of the busiest shipping routes on the other, plus wind from an unfavorable direction, we were kept busy with navigational tasks. In hindsight, the seaward route might have been the better choice. But who knows in advance?

Further out in the Bay of Biscay, we at least had a straight course, even if the shifting wind did not allow us to sail a direct line towards out destination. To avoid arriving in La Coruña in the dark, after four nights at sea we headed for the bay near Cedeira. Slowly but surely, the impressive coastline of Galicia rose in front of us, promising us protection from the approaching storm. With an average of 37 knots the new anchor had the opportunity to convince us of its holding power. We slept peacefully and blissfully through our first Spanish night.

What have we learned?

• If weather models disagree, it may be better to consider the route with the shortest distance.  

• As there are only two of us on watch, we can act according to our actual needs and don’t necessarily need a rigid watch plan.

• A constant exercise is to get to know the soundscape on the boat - especially at night. Without knowing the sources of the noises, it is difficult for both of us to sleep. As a positive result, we have discovered a loose lock nut on the autopilot quite quickly.

• We are happy with our electric motor, which barely audible pushes us in light winds.

• We eat less than we thought.

• We know how to fish the Code D out of the air / out of the water without injury after it broke lose.