Birthday bliss in Camariñas

The anchorage at Camarinas

We had not been to Camariñas but had heard from several people, Vera of Danu and Peter of Henry, that it was surprisingly lovely there. So we thought a brief stopover en route to A Coruna would be convenient and would happen on my birthday, June 29. We were forecast to have light NW winds early and increasing during the afternoon. So we got up early and headed out. It was only about 30 NM from Corcubion so not a big deal.


We had an easy motor up the coast in flat calm and arrived in Camariñas early afternoon to find a modern ketch anchored on its own in the lovely harbour. The hills all around were wooded with occasional large estates and a vast breakwater protected the anchorage from the swell. The harbour across from Camariñas appears to have a marina and a conical peninsula with a large church on it. There are massive windmills on the crests of the hills all around.

As we anchored, a third ketch came in and anchored equidistant from us as we had anchored from the other. It was a ketch convention. The town looked inviting with several slipways and multiple staircases at which to leave a dinghy. The tiny marina and sailing club has a small bar and docks where you can deposit a dinghy. It's a bit of a walk into town from there. The slipways to the north provide better access.

Camariñas is a municipality in the province of A Coruña and still part of Galicia in northwestern Spain. An important fishing centre, it is renowned for the bobbin lacework of its women. There is a statue on the main street commemorating this craft. For a small town, it has three supermarkets, all on the main street lining the waterfront. There are several lacework shops and coops, banks, restaurants and one or two centrally located boutique hotels. Very pleasant.

The anchorage itself was almost like an enclosed lake as you couldn't see out to the ocean once anchored. The marina in the village had small boats and fishing vessels and several large catamarans, but I don't think it could accommodate anything more substantial (I have since been corrected. Roberto of Knotty Girl told us they had been accommodated on one of the hammerheads). A lot of small boats went out fishing morning and evening, but once again, the larger vessels remained tied up. Busloads of elderly tourists walked the town at snails' pace, then boarded their chariots and departed for the next destination.

As the day progressed more yachts, mainly French, arrived from the North presumably making the trek south via A Coruna. We decided to top off our ice supply and take a short break on board before heading back ashore for dinner.  One of the more popular restaurants where we had stopped for a glass of wine earlier had sardinas on the menu, exactly what I had wanted the day before. So dinner of mixed salad and fire-cooked fish was divine, washed down with local Albarino of course.

Once again it was early to bed as we wanted to make A Coruna the next day. The forecast was reasonable, northerlies but not too strong (<15 knots), so we set the alarm for 7 am and hoped we'd get lucky. It was just over 50 NM to A Coruna which would take us about 8 hours. The winds were forecast to strengthen from the north over the next few days so a northerly passage would prove uncomfortable at best. As we hadn't been to A Coruna, we figured that would be a good bet for spending a couple of days tied up in a marina, exploring the town, and preparing for a crossing of Biscay.

Whereas the harbour at Corcubion has a mixed bottom of sand and mud, the anchor and chain in Camarinas came up oozing with thick mud. Alex quickly hooked up the washdown pump. Still, there was mud on the deck, which was soon to get washed off in the slog up the coast. We'd been warned that there is an unmarked cable in the anchorage but, thankfully, we did not find it.

I'm happy to say, we made it easily, motor sailing up the coast in light winds and moderate seas, and then had a lovely sail when we turned right at the top of Spain for A Coruna. Many vessels were making the trek south, mostly French, perhaps escaping the abysmal heat France is experiencing. the highest ever at about 45C. I don't blame them. Alex thinks it's the new snowbirds routine in reverse. We've certainly witnessed a migration this year.

We are berthed in the marina of the RCNC and it is right in the middle of the city. Good choice, Alex. We were exhausted on arrival but had to go search for some dinner. Got to the plaza above the marina to find a festival underway. Street food, music, stalls all around. Bought bread, ate pizza, drank beer and rolled into our bunk early. But cramps kept both us awake half the night. Alex thinks it was the lack of Albarino. I'm not sure, but I won't chance it again tonight.