Snippets

This handsome fellow is a Portuguese Water Dog, a breed that used to assist the fishermen in setting and pulling in their nets. With the decline of the fishing industry they almost become extinct in Portugal, but were revived with breeding stock from the USA. Apparently they still thrive on a diet of sardines and red wine, just as they did in their days aboard the sardine fleet.

Sarah, Colin, Jack and Luke came aboard Common Sense for a visit this morning - hope you're enjoying your holiday!

Life after dark in the old town in Lagos.
Tomorrow is the big day - we've stocked up on provisions, remarked our anchor chain, cleaned up a bit of rust and replaced a few dodgy fittings. Next stop, the barrier islands off Faro, Portugal.

Trying out the new gear - Terry

We took Common Sense out today to test the new sails and electronics.  We hadn’t even left the slip when the first problem emerged – no Radar!  There’s supposed to be a tab on the Home screen on the whizz-bang “Multi-function Display” that says “Radar” but it wasn’t there.  So the radar’s not talking to the MFD. Malcolm from Bluewater Algarve is coming tomorrow to look at it, as it apparently was working fine last week so it’s probably a loose connection somewhere.

Well, it’s not crucial in the daytime so out we went anyway.  On board were Michael and Rhonda Cheston from Raven, an X-yacht 46 and Tim Szabow off Kinship, who came across the Atlantic with us. (another Maryland boat, like Common Sense). Michael is the sail guy who organized our new sails for us.

We got to the bridge, which we had asked to be opened and to my utter amazement, some goose in a 30-odd footer moved out from the welcome dock, about 100’ downstream from the bridge, and made to go through.  Bit hard when I’m already lined up to go through.  I’m sure he could see me but he just sat there like a roo in the headlights.  Because he was so close to the bridge, I had to get through, then as soon as my topsides were clear swing out to the right to miss him. 

Anyways, out we wandered in next to no air – maybe 6 to 8 knots.  We’d come to look at the sails so up they went and we were actually managing 3 knots in 8 knots of wind, way better than we would have done before.  The old sails would have seen us simply sitting still.

We bobbed around for a bit and then got some more wind and headed out a little.  Two party boats headed for us from the East.  The first, a cat, was way to seaward from us by several hundred meters.  The other was on a collision course.  We were under sail, they had their motor on so we were the stand-on vessel.  Problem was, there were 8 bikini-clad girls on the foredeck with 1 (yes, one) guy.  He was also on the foredeck and there was no one on the wheel.  One of the girls must have said something to him and he bolted for the cockpit and turned away with a big wave.  Obviously not concentrating on keeping an appropriate lookout.

No harm done but we weren’t getting anywhere fast so we turned in to the shore down near Alvor and put the sails away.  We motored in and had a very nice lunch at anchor on a sunny coolish day and just enjoyed ourselves.

A bit of wind came up, to about 14 knots, so we upped the anchor and headed off with all sails out.  They were fantastic – the boat is very well balanced with them and even steered itself (look ma, no hands!).  The motion was easy and it made way at about 5.7 knots in 15 knots of wind.

We tacked once to get some more sea room and closed on the Lagos breakwater. We then headed in up the Bensafrim River and put Common Sense away without banging anything on the way into the slip.  All in all, a nice day on the water. 

The Streets of Seville

Like Lisbon, Seville used to be a major seaport serving the nation’s expanding empire - in the case of Spain, that meant much of the Americas. You can see the wealth this created in the unbelievably lavish art and architecture in the churches and other surviving buildings of the ‘golden age’. The builder of Cathedral de Sevillla is purported to have said, “Let us build it so huge that those who complete it will swear that we were mad!” The Treasure Room of the Cathedral has to be seen to be believed: crowns, reliquaries, chalices, crucifixes and other artefacts in ornately wrought gold and silver, encrusted with precious stones – the materials plundered from the new world and mined by slave labour. An ugly story behind all the glitter and glory. Between gawping at all the paintings, sculptures, carvings, tapestries, jewellery and other stuff, I did pause to wonder what a simple Jewish carpenter's son would have made of it all.

The city went into decline after it was decimated by the Great Plague in 1649, the Guadalquivir River silted up and the Armada got their arses kicked by the English. Seville was the administrative centre for the Inquisition, so it’s fairly clear what God thought about that little enterprise. The layers of history, glorious and ghastly, do make every walk through the narrow streets an adventure in time travel. The old Santa Cruz district, for example, housed poets and revolutionaries and was the setting for much of Bizet's Carmen, however it was also the ancient Jewish quarter, the scene of terrible pogroms under the Inquisition.

 Interesting places to see: the Reales Alcazares, a Moorish palace and gardens begun in 1181, that took 500 years to complete. The Hospital de los Venerables Sacerdotes (Old Priests' Home) a beautiful building with a fabulous art collection, including works by Murillo and Velasquez. The Torre del Oro (Tower of Gold) another Moorish building that overlooks the river and houses an excellent maritime museum. The Placa d'Espana, built for the Expo in 1929, and the surrounding gardens... and so much more.

From a design perspective, you can’t help wishing that Australian cities and homes had had more Mediterranean influences. Lovely shady town squares with fountains, cafe seating and beautiful tiles. Balconies, street dining in tapas bars and roof gardens where people socialise in the cool of the evening. (Siesta is serious here – virtually nothing is open between 2 and 5.30 pm, but things really come to life at night). I especially like the homes in town: behind a massive studded wooden door, an entry opens into a welcoming courtyard with tiles, orange and olive trees, jasmine and other flowers and a pool or fountain. The style is called Mudejar, a mix of Renaissance Spain and north Africa.

And after a brief Spanish interlude, we're back in Lagos; the new AIS and radar have been installed, the sails arrive for fitting tomorrow and we've done a massive cleanup of all our tools, spare parts and equipment. Just a few more days and we should be on our way. Next stop, Faro, then Gibraltar and the Med at last!

Seville - First Impressions of Spain

Common Sense was looking like a building site with parts, tools and blokes taking up every space, both inside and on deck. What a great opportunity to escape for a few days and leave them to it! Having visited Vasco da Gama’s tomb in Lisbon, we thought a visit to another great legend from the social studies textbook, Christopher Columbus, was in order. Seville, where his remains lie in the great cathedral, is only a few hours away by bus.

Seville – oranges and operas were my only background knowledge apart from Columbus' tomb. The Barber of Seville, Carmen and Don Juan are all set there, so it’s clearly a romantic, larger-than-life kind of place. Then there are the oranges. This is a story that Martin told me about their introduction to Spain (ie not a particularly reliable source, but a good story.)

A young knight had to leave his beautiful lover in Seville when he went to the Holy Land to fight in the Crusades. When he returned, he said he had brought her a unique gift, something precious from the exotic shores of North Africa – and he handed her … an orange. Disgusted, she hurled it back at him and spurned him forever. The knight died of a broken heart and was buried with his rejected gift. From his grave, its seeds sprouted Spain’s first orange tree.

Apparently this is why Seville oranges taste bitter. They are certainly beautiful, however: avenues and groves of glossy dark green, cooling the glare of white stone and baking terracotta. It’s a lovely city, nestled around its massive cathedral whose tower, the Giraldo, was actually part of the site’s original mosque and is visible from almost everywhere. This location on the plain of the Guadalquivir River has been a human settlement for at least 3000 years; archaeological digs have revealed artefacts from Phoenician, Visigoth, Arab and Roman cultures, but the locals are sticking with the legend that the city was founded by Hercules, from whom all true Sevillanos are descended.

The first immediate difference from Portugal was the language. While the written languages are similar, they sound quite different – all the ‘sh’ sounds and its guttural quality make Portuguese sound almost eastern European. Also, virtually every Portuguese, in the Algarve and Lisbon at least, speaks English willingly and well. The Spanish in Seville broadcast their language loudly and flamboyantly. If you don’t understand, they speak it louder and with more extravagant gestures! It’s a good lesson for an English speaker to experience this linguistic chauvinism, as we do it to everyone else. Between my French and Terry’s Latin, we managed to make sense of most things eventually. We think.

The food is different. Portuguese food is good quality and fresh, but I could just about write the menu that virtually every restaurant offers. In Seville, tapas bars dominate, but there is a lot of innovation beyond the standard fare. In both countries, being a waiter is clearly a real profession, and a male-dominated one. Everything is done with expertise and flair – it’s part of the dining experience, and quite different from the earnest high school kids who wait tables for dismal wages in the US. Tapas are a great way to try small serves of interesting dishes – we enjoyed lamb casserole, prawn skewers, seared tuna, patatas bravas, sea urchin roe, chickpeas and spinach, peppers stuffed with codfish, mushrooms, mussels, olives … all sorts of goodies washed down with cold beer, vino rosaldo or sangria (Terry was the victim of a killer sangria made with wine, vodka, vermouth and gin!) We tried the house paella in a couple of restaurants as well – totally delicious, I could just about live on it. Terry will review some Seville drinking and eating in a future blog.


Well there is a lot more to tell, but I'll close for now. This blog is driving me crazy by refusing to upload photos so I'll post some on Facebook and save the rest for next time.