Sat 27/7 – Sun 28/7 La Rochelle: A Journey Unfolds

La Rochelle feels like the perfect destination for Marieke, so easily reachable by train and TGV. It should be a smooth six-hour journey from Mechelen, like following a path laid out in the sun. But on this particular Friday, some unexpected news—arson along the TGV lines near Paris threatens to derail everything.

Marieke begins her journey with hope in her heart, boarding the TGV to Paris, but the optimism soon fades. The train slows, falters, and the crucial connection to La Rochelle is missed. Chaos follows. Alternatives are proposed, then retracted. Determined to escape Paris, Marieke catches a train to Bordeaux, hoping for a chance to make it to La Rochelle. Yet, the TGV once again runs behind, and the train to La Rochelle has already departed. A call comes through: “I’m staying in Bordeaux overnight.” Thankfully, a night’s refuge is offered to stranded travelers. By the early morning light, she’s back on the move, departing at 7:00 AM and finally arriving in La Rochelle by 10:00 AM, a big smile on her face!

The sea is calling, and it’s time to head to Île de Ré. We find a peaceful anchorage at Anse du Martray. The anchor holds fast, but the shore is distant, too far for the dinghy to reach comfortably. No matter—nightfall brings a sunset that paints the sky in red hues, a perfect moment to capture and hold onto.

Mon 29/07 – Tue 30/07 Heading South with Marieke

A plan and decision is made: Marieke will sail southward with us, the wind and waves guiding us to Spain, where she’ll catch a flight from Bilbao at the week’s end. It’s a long journey, but there’s no rush. We decide to trace the coast for the first part, savoring each mile with gentle day trips.

Our first night’s anchorage is Baie de Gatseau, a narrow stretch of water between Île d’Oleron and the mainland. A sandbank guards the entrance, poorly charted and almost like a secret that the sea keeps to itself. With the wind whispering softly and waves to a minimum, we take the chance. The first attempt falters—too much swell, too little depth—but we’re not in a hurry. We anchor temporarily and wait for the tide to lift us gently. On the second try, we succeed, finding water deep enough after a careful search. The anchorage proves to be a perfect sanctuary, offering a night of quiet calm.

Morning comes, and it’s time to leave. Yesterday’s track, saved on the chart plotter, guides us out in reverse, and soon we’re on our way to Royan on the Gironde. Some dolphins join us and guide the way to Royan. The city is alive with activity, the air buzzing with the joy of festivities.

Wed 31/07 – Thu 01/08 Our First Overnight Passage

Today brings the thrill of something new—Turadh is set to sail through the night, a first for both her and us. The course is charted for St. Jean de Luz or San Sebastián, a journey of 130 nautical miles that will take us through 24 hours of wind and wave, dancing with the sea under the cover of darkness. There is also a military firepractice zone to pass in front of Arcachon. Fortunately enough, the Royan harbourmaster has a copy for us with the exact navigational markers of zone to avoid.

We depart in the afternoon, giving ourselves time to adjust to the rhythm of the sea and prepare for the night ahead, and making sure we arrive in daylight. At first, the wind is gentle, but soon it picks up, forcing us to sail close-hauled. As night falls, the wind eases and shifts to a beam reach, perfect for a swift and safe passage. The darkness is complete, the moon absent, but ahead of us, the light from a German sailboat becomes our guiding star. Mick takes the helm until the early hours, finally handing it over to Linde when rest is needed.

As day breaks, the sea comes alive—a school of anchovies dances, pursued by leaping tuna, a spectacle that washes away any lingering fatigue. And then, the dolphins arrive, playing alongside Turadh for half an hour, lifting our spirits with their joyful presence.

By 14:00, earlier than expected, we sight the shores of St. Jean de Luz. We set aside the plan to anchor in favour of the small fishing harbour, as the bay’s swell is too unruly for comfort. The town welcomes us with open arms, and we end the day with a meal at a restaurant, each bite a well-deserved reward for the journey completed.

Fri 02/08 – Sun 04/08 Tapas, Cheesecake, and Sunsets

On a boat, flying the courtesy flag of the host nation is a sign of respect, but here in Basque country, the custom carries an extra twist—the regional flag must fly above the national one. We’ve heard tales of marinas turning away those who fail to observe this protocol, but there’s no worry—we’ve got the Basque flag, purchased back in La Rochelle, ready to take its place.

As we approach San Sebastián, El Monumento al Sagrado Corazón de Jesús stands tall, visible from afar. But once in the bay, the ocean swell plays tricks, making anchoring a challenge. The boats in the bay sway like dancers caught in a drunken rhythm, and subjecting Marieke to such motion isn’t an option. Luckily, the marina has a spot waiting for us. The old fishing harbour becomes our home for three days, just steps from the vibrant old town.

San Sebastián is irresistible. The narrow streets of the old town are filled with tapas bars and hidden shops, each one a discovery waiting to be made. A hike up the mountain, crowned with the statue of Jesus, offers views worth every step, and the Pasealeku Berriko Balkoia promises sunsets that set the sky ablaze. On the beach, sand art captures our imagination, and the rising tide almost washes us of the beach. There’s even a sweet surprise for Linde—Marieke and Mick present a slice of cheesecake from La Viña, the much-praised spot on TripAdvisor.

Sunday arrives with a touch of melancholy as Marieke’s journey with us comes to an end. The bus to Bilbao takes her away, her flight to Belgium free of the obstacles that marked her arrival.

Mon 05/08 – Sat 10/08 Festivities and Reflections

We anchor in Getaria, a place of beauty, but we’ve come at the wrong time—the annual festival is in full swing. What starts as a charming sing-along descends into a night of terrible Spanish dance music that echoes through the town until 6:00 AM. Getaria, unfortunately, becomes a memory we’d rather forget. The island El Ratón shows us the way back to sea.

Bermeo, too, leaves its mark, though not a favorable one. The small visitors’ dock offers little protection from wind and swell, and the boat bobs restlessly through the night, tugging at her lines, sleep a distant dream in the constant motion.

Bermeo wasn’t chosen for its allure, but for its proximity to Guernica, the heart of Basque history. The town still bears the scars of April 26, 1937, when German and Italian warplanes rained destruction, leaving thousands dead. The memory of that day lives on in the hearts of the Basque people, immortalized in Picasso’s “Guernica,” a tile mural now standing in the town as a somber reminder.

Plentzia offers a welcome break. The sun shines, the wind is kind, and the swell is gentle. The anchorage, in front of what seems to be a rehabilitation center, promises a quiet night, free from the disturbances of festival-goers. We consider staying an extra day, perhaps to visit the Guggenheim Museum, but in the end, we decide to keep moving.

Bilbao harbour is more industrial than romantic, with an anchorage in Las Arenas, a suburb near the famous Vizcaya Bridge, the oldest working transporter bridge in the world. A train takes us into the heart of Bilbao, where the Guggenheim Museum stands as a monument to modern art. Yet, it leaves little impression. Las Arenas, by contrast, is peaceful, a place to rest and reflect.

Sun 11/08 – Mon 12/08 Sailing Along Breathtaking Landscapes

There’s something about the Spanish side of Biscay—the landscapes here outshine even the rugged beauty of the Breton coast. Majestic cliffs and mountains, the Pyrenees and Los Picos, stand as sentinels along the coastline, their grandeur mirrored in the deep blue sea.

But anchorages, like precious gems, are rare, and marinas become more necessity than choice. The approaches to bays and marinas often lie shallow, treacherous under certain conditions, the swells a constant reminder of the ocean’s power. Yet, the winds are merciful, allowing us safe passage along the coast.

The journey westward continues, with nights spent in Castro Urdiales and Laredo. Both are towns of the sea, where fishing boats and old traditions linger. Laredo, in particular, charms us with its new marina and a town close to the harbour. The old streets, narrow and winding, lead to restaurants where the taste of the sea comes alive in dishes like paella.