11 August: Warm Spanish Welcome
La Coruña welcoming us to Spain with fireworks
The third dawn on Biscay felt different. The early light of the day was brighter than the prevailing mornings had been. The sun arose from behind the horizon with only very few clouds on the sky and lit up our lives.

The light was just one bright component to the new experience. The air that was blowing into my face was also different. There was wind – but without the usual chilling component. And then the colours! The Atlantic sea had changed its tints from steel-blue to deep-blue.

I started to feel uncomfortable, despite the beauty. I could not tell why at first, but something was disturbing me. Something on my body felt superfluous. It was my fleece sweater! It was felt as a relief when it was thrown off and the warm wind could freely strike over my body. Suddenly, I understood that we had made it south. The shorts that I had not worn for a whole year replaced my Musto Middle layer fleece trousers. What a difference!

When the sun had climbed some 20 degrees over the horizon, land was spotted. Not just any land, but Spain. We could now perceive the opposite shore of Biscay.

Zigzagging through 12 Spanish trawlers we finally moored in La Coruña in the afternoon of the 2nd August 2005. 536 miles had taken us just 3 days and 6 hours, an impressive passage time.
Steering into La Coruña was a fantastic feeling
My bare feet felt Spanish soil when I jumped ashore, proud and happy. My feet obtained the acknowledgement that we had succeeded in leaving the cold north for a warm welcoming Spain.

Many times, we had been in this country before. With my mother living in Spain it had been a natural place for vacations during my entire life. I remembered the warm wind welcoming us when leaving the plane on the airport. The Spanish cent found its way into the nose, the murmur to our ears and the marble floors into our senses. This had always been a wonderful welcome to a country I love so much. But this was different. It was self-made. We had done it! On our own keel!

Soon after the arrival, we investigated the narrow lanes of the ancient city of La Coruña. Contrary to the Mediterranean coast, we could only hear Spanish being spoken. The tourists were mainly from inland Spain, such as Madrid, enjoying the cooler climate of Galicia. What for us finally was the warmth of the south, was an escape from the hot inland climate for the Spaniards. Tourists from northern countries searching for “guaranteed sunshine” and warm swimming water, generally prefer the meteorologically safer Mediterranean coast of Spain. For me, it was a new experience to find a Spanish coastal town, which was so Spanish! I liked La Coruña a lot.

With the new marina in the innermost basin in the center of the town, everything was within walking distance. Restaurants, museums, a 50m swimming pool, shops, chandlers, the city beach and, during August, a month-long fiesta with fireworks welcoming us.

Darsena de la Marina - the new marina in the center of La Coruña
Not just the city was a treat. What amazed us was the great variety of yachties. I felt like Jonathan Livingstone Seagull. Do you remember the seagull, who was an outcast of his seagull society, since he was not like a seagull should be? Jonathan did not want to live for food alone, instead wanting to become a master of flying like no other seagull. In the end, he found like-minded, who all had been considered too divergent to fit into their corresponding sea gull flights. By gathering all these eccentric individuals, they formed a new, independent society of like-minded, supporting and encouraging each other. Jonathan Livingstone Seagull could finally fly as he liked!

Back in home waters, our blue water cruise was generally regarded as extraordinary and we answered many questions on how we found the courage, how we would solve schooling, how we could cope with storms, not to mention the huge oceans. By answering, we questioned our own decisions we were about to explain. Here, in La Coruña, countless boats on their way out into the world gathered. Boats of all sizes and brands, sailors of all ages and nations, with and without children. The new topics were now instead about SSB-HAM-nets, home schooling, if one should take extra crew for the Atlantic, whether Cap Verde was worth visiting and if it was true that Madeira had a new marina or not.

Surprisingly few German boats, a lot of Swedish and Norwegian sailors, some Danish, a lot of Dutch, many French and countless British yachts. Especially families with children seemed to originate from the UK. For Jessica and Jonathan it was great to finally having met with other boat kids, now starting to practice their English. Especially Chris and Sophie with their Children Otti and Mimi on the yacht Sarah Grace became close friends to us, with children in the same age as ours. I might not be wrong if I predict that we will see Sarah Grace many times ahead, since they, too, are heading for a very similar route as we might choose.
Jessica and Jonathan among boat kids, starting to practice their English
Jessica and Jonathan ran on the pontoons playing with their new friends, I found time to do some service- and repair jobs on Regina, and Karolina was euphoric about the delicious markets selling fruits, vegetables, fish and bread in an inspiring, colorful and inviting way, not much in common with COOP’s in the Outer Hebrides.

Leaving the boat in the early morning, walking through a quiet town to the local bakery, buying fresh bread, which then was enjoyed in the cockpit, felt like a reward. A reward for what? What have we done in life to deserve such a relaxed and wonderful life?

Back home in Sweden, so they told on the telephone, they had 13 deg C (55 F) and rain. They talked about the fact that autumn had arrived with the rowanberry trees standing in their full splendor. The red berries disclose the ending of the summer. They said this summer had not been so good. Schools start in due course and life is withdrawn from outdoor activities. Indoor courses are taken up again when people return to their jobs with shops and industry now having re-open after having closed down for the summer. The long period of hiding away from weather had commenced.

These reports from home struck like a discordant note to what we were currently experiencing. While Swedish outdoor swimming pools now closed for the season, we were instead invited to join our good friends Per and Viveca to use the pools belonging to the hotel they were staying at. What a treat after all these days at sea! Per, being a SAS pilot, was based in La Coruña over summer and regretted having to go back to Sweden the following week. His wife Viveca and their two children also really loved the Spanish climate and were already looking forward to Per's next period of being based here over Christmas.

We had a great time together with Per and Viveca in La Coruña, often mentioning how important climate is on people’s mood.

Per and Viveca inviting us to use "their" pool. What a treat! The marina lies just to the right of the photo with the fairway to La Coruña in the background

With so many people complaining and grumbling about both Swedish taxes as well as its climate, I can’t see why not more choose to live in another corner of the EU, preferably a southerly spot. Work and residence permit should not be an issue any longer and today’s information technology should make it all possible. Why don’t they all move?

But what do I hear myself saying? Wasn’t I the one who had such torments on our decision? Didn’t we have hundreds of arguments why we should stay where we were? We knew what we had; school for the children, jobs for us, the house we lived in, gadgets we owned, the local grocery we knew, the friends we enjoyed. Didn’t I remember how difficult the decision had been? And now I was sitting in our cockpit in the shade of our bimini looking at the busy city of La Coruña, seeing all these Spanish people living their lives in such a comfortable climate and being busy and relaxed at the same time!

Possibly, I am more sensible to weather than most others and maybe Scandinavians who have lived with the Nordic climate for many generations are more used to the high latitudes with its impact on people’s mentality? I remember from the days at home that I felt like a barometer; on high pressure days with sunshine, I felt great, with passing cold fronts and gale winds resulting in horizontal rain I felt miserable. Of course it made life more interesting, but less predictable.

We stayed in La Coruña for almost a week. A gale was blowing out at sea, on Biscay and around Finisterre, but who cared? We liked La Coruña and did not mind exploring the city with Per and Viveca and all the new yachties we got to know. I did my best to dig out my poor knowledge in Spanish, troubling shopkeepers and restaurateurs alike with my trials in improving my vocabulary. What a great side effect it means to live in a new country for a while, getting a chance to learn or improve a new language at the same time!
Together with Per and Viveca, we visited the oldest light-house of the world, once founded by the Romans. And together with Chris of Sarah Grace, who is a doctor, we visited the “Domus” of La Coruña, which is a museum of the human body. A most educational tour held by the professional Chris did not only give invaluable information to his own children Otti and Mimi as well as to Jessica and Jonathan, but was also an instructive visit for Karolina and me, who learnt a lot from Chris profound knowledge of the human body.
Chris from the yacht Sarah Grace is a doctor and gave a fantastic tour in the museum of the human body - the Domus
We could have stayed in La Coruña for much longer, but the many beautiful “Rías” along the Galcian coast did also ask to be explored. It could also be timely to round the notorious Cap Finisterre whenever weather was permitting.

I recalled the mosaic compass rose close to the ancient light house showing a skull and crossbones in direction West: La Costa del Morte, the coast of the dead. The waters around Finisterre are, for a reason, carrying this deadly sharp name, which did not feel quite as comfortable as La Coruña was welcoming. Nevertheless, this was the coast we would sail to next, heading west into heavy swell and frequent gales. And if not a gale was the opponent, its companion, the Fog, did its best to obstruct sailors from advancing round the Cape.
The mosaic compass rose adjacent to the old lighthouse pointing west towards the "Costa del Morte"
We had better study the weather charts, the GRIB-files and Navtex-info to choose a suitable day to continue our journey, meeting with new exciting places along the way.

Follow us in our next story when we sail into La Costa del Morte in thick fog and explore the Rías of the Galician west coast.