Being adventurous and seeing things from another angle.

When the chess conference at which we were helping came to end the delegates were taken on a boat trip to the Islas Cíes. We were invited along too. Well, we had sort of established our reputation as experts on things cultural in Galicia, at least in the English speaking section of the party. 

This was a trip to the islands with a difference. Instead of travelling on the public ferry, we were off on a sail boat, specially hired for the occasion. I think we were almost too big a group for the boat but we managed to squeeze everyone on board. The other big difference for us was that instead of approaching the islands from Vigo, which is what Phil and I have always done, we were approaching from Baiona. A totally new perspective for us. 

 And then, because the trip was arranged on the last minute we were really only going to sail round the islands and do a circuit of the bay of Baiona. But Phil and I had done the publicity for the islands, telling everyone about the Playa de Rodas being voted the best beach in the world and the delegates really wanted to see it, even if only from a distance. There was some discussion about whether it was the Guardian newspaper or the Times which had organised the voting. We were adamant it was the Guardian but one of the delegates felt that this newspaper was too “leftish” to do such a thing. Can left-wingers not enjoy beaches? 

Anyway, we set off on what turned out to be a rather slow and cold journey out to the islands. Fortunately we had been warned to take extra layers. Most had done so but even so the wind in the bay was fresh, to say the least. As we approached the islands requests began to be made to possibly, maybe, if it was all right, land on the bigger island. After some umming and ahhing, our captain gave in and agreed to land, VERY briefly as he was doing this illegally. He had no permit to land on this occasion and he didn’t want to get in the way of the ferry boats. 

Consequently he planned to moor at the furthest end of the jetty, away from the side places where the ferry boats dock. There then followed a good three quarters of an hour of manoeuvring to get the boat in position. Each time it seemed to be right, the current moved us around some more. And the captain was trying to avoid rubbing up against the tyres tied to the dock to cushion collisions. This was nothing to do with safety. If he rubbed against them, his white boat would get covered in black streaks which were, he told me, the devil’s own job to remove. 

Eventually, after much dangerous-looking leaning out of the boat to push it off the jetty and equally dangerous-looking leaping around to get mooring ropes in place, the boat was tied up. There was a gap about a metre wide between the side of the boat and the steps, rather wet and slippery-looking in my opinion, up to the top of the jetty. The gap narrowed and widened as the boat moved. Phil and I opted to stay on board. We’ve been on the islands before and if this was only going to be a ten-minute visit it really didn’t seem worth risking an unplanned dip in the Atlantic. 

The captain’s mate took advantage of the landfall to get out bottles of wine, tortilla, empanada, bread and who knows what else: a little merienda. Our boat became subject to a lot of tourist interest. We have no doubt figured in a number of people’s holiday snaps! 

Just as everyone got back on board, a ferry from Vigo arrived, leading to a small altercation between our captain and their captain but we managed to escape without being impounded by coastguards. 

We did not, however, set off properly. As our party sipped wine and nibbled on the food provided, we rocked around just off the islands and the captain’s mate got his guitar out and sang to everyone. My goodness, this was indeed a trip with a difference. 

Finally we set off properly back towards Baiona. It was about time. Some people were rather “mareado”, seasick, and more than a little cold. Instead of relying on the motor for the return trip, our captain put his sail up and we fairly rattled across the water, maybe a little too speedily for those who were feeling the adverse influence of the waves. 
 
It’s amazing how being in a sailboat brings out the jack tar in quite a lot of men. Most wanted to help push the boat off the side of the jetty to prevent collision with the dirty black tyres. Some daringly leapt across the gap between the boat and the jetty to help tie up the mooring lines. Others determinedly pulled on the rope to help hoist the sail. It was most impressive! And I haven’t even included those who scuttled around on deck to stand in impossible places in order to take photos. I was very sensible and sat still, I have to say. 

Despite all this derring-do, we managed to get back to Baiona safely. We lived to tell the tale and even managed to get our finely on and go out for a farewell meal in a posh Nigrán restaurant later that evening. 


Another adventure over.