Bic Bilbao Finds New Home

After agreeing with the seller to buy the kayak, I realized it was a 120-km drive either way. The add had said "located in Santarem," but when I called the seller for driving instructions he said it was in "Entroncamento."

Add 45 euros for diesel, 15 euros for road tolls and the the price jumped another 60 euros, for a total of 340 euros.

I got a paddle, a small life jacket and a helmet. I was expecting a funky metal helmet, but it turned out to be just a plastic bicycle thing. Not that I had any intention of using it.

Anyway, the kayak is in good shape and cost me half of the retail price. We also went for a drive to a little village outside of Entroncamento. At this point, I'll jump at any excuse to take a break from translation work.



Back home with the new toy.

The kayak, paddle, life jacke and even the plastic helmet was covered in a thin film of diesel dust from sitting in a garage for ages. We took it to the backyard for a wash.


It only weights 21 kg. I weigh 90 kg and do tons of push ups, so I figured I could toss it onto the jeep's roof with one hand. Wrong! It's shape, length and the jeep's height make it bit tricky.

For now it will be stored in the garage until I have time to try it out. That means waiting for a break from work, good weather and calm ocean all at the same time...in other words, probably not too soon.

This is what happens when you live in a house...junk piling up by the day. How much of it will we actually use, need or give away? Got to start thinking about a major cleaning job before ordering the firewood that will also be crammed in here right below the kayak's nose.

This is my garage by the way. After looking at the fancy ceiling trim, it struck me that some readers may think this is my living room. Wouldn't that be a hoot?

Transient Dock Still Full

Yesterday was like living in a cold rainy country somewhere way up north.

But today I woke up to a gorgeous warm sunny day with hardly a breeze in the air.

Got up at 6:30 to finish off a translation, which I emailed to Lisbon, and then roared out of here to Peniche.

When I arrived I was surprised to see the transient dock is still full, perhaps because the 6 knot wind is from the south or, most likely, nobody believed the weather would change so dramatically overnight. The rescued bowman 46 is still here too, empty.

Luis was coming out the gate as I was going in.

"I sleep incredibly well on the boat," he said smiling.

"Last night I said, I'm sleeping on the boat, anybody coming? The kids shouted yes and then the wife came too. They already left. Good thing I stayed longer because I just met a French guy who needs his steering fixed."

Got to the boat, set up the laptop, the boat battery charger and got down to business. Another damn translation for the 20th.

Took a little break before lunch.


Love the pilothouse except in summer when it's hot (I look like an Egyptian mummy).

After a lunch (pre-made) of octopus rice and salad, I went for a walk up the street past the fort that was once a political prison.



The Fort and the shadow trees.

Turned 180 degrees and took a shot of the opposite side.

Looking north. Can't see downtown Peniche, but it's back there.

An inlet below those small colourful houses.

Quaint neighborhood populated mostly by local fishermen.



View of the fort and port breakwater in the background, and all the wind generators way off in the distance.

Driving home. The sky was on fire 1 minute before I stopped the jeep and took this picture. So here it is, imagine it 1 minute before.

Paradise No More, Not Today at Least

Today the thermometer can't seem to push beyond 12º C. It's also raining and dark - a bad combination. How anybody can survive through the winter in northern Sweden is beyond me.


No beach paradise today

Then I took this picture facing east with the camera set to "twilight landscape" and look at this.

Talk about a doomsday look

I've got a Sony Cyber-Shot camera, and that's the best I can do. Instead of spending money on a Canon I've already offered 280 euros for a 2011 Bic Bilbao kayak that comes with a paddle, life jacket (as if I don't already have a huge pile of them) and a helmet. A HELMET!! Yeah, that will come in handy as protection against flying fish.

The seller accepted the offer. Hope I can pick it up this weekend.

It's going to be warmer tomorrow. And a good thing because I'll be working on the boat tomorrow.

Back to work, see you tomorrow at the boat.

Bic Bilbao Kayak Mission

In the last days, the sky has alternated between brief sunny periods and dark low clouds as I sit at my desk translating my life away.

My last guests have left: a German and his teenage son on a surfing holiday. They promised to be back in Easter.

Looking back, it seems that the first rental season wasn't too bad. My net house-rental income covered my boat expenses. The boat, does anything else matter? 

Leaning toward a Bic Bilbao

Got serious about buying a kayak instead of just looking at Internet ads for used kayaks. Because I don't have the time to actually go out and get one, I made a "formal" commitment to the plan.

Ana and I took a quick trip to Decathlon in Torres Vedras after lunch. Besides some cheap shirts, I also bought 2 foam rolls for transporting a kayak on the jeep's rooftop.

Pretty much like committing yourself to buying a boat by getting an anchor and chain!! Easy logic, right? And to think that my parents used to say I was wasting my time studying philosophy.

Anyway, I did get a second-hand Bic Bilbao kayak for 200 euros and I'm quite happy with it. It came with a paddle, life jacket and helmet. The paddle will suffice.

Why am I happy with it? It's fairly easy to load and unload onto/from the car roof, it's stable, it goes fairly fast and tracks well without too much effort. It's also dry, except for some water drops that flick off the paddle and collect on the seat getting my bum slightly wet. For 200 euros I got a maintenance-free unsinkable vessel that's a lot of fun. It also tows really well behind the boat.

The one setback is that I have to get my feet wet getting on and off from the boat ladder. It's nearly impossible, or a least very risky, to get on and off without placing my feet on the underwater ladder rung in order to bring my butt more level with the seat.

Surprisingly, I can also transport a fairly large load in a water resistant bag. I wouldn't recommend carrying valuables such as a computer in a normal bag. The kayak is stable but there is always a higher risk of dropping something in the water during the loading and unloading operation when compared to an inflatable dinghy.

Unlucky Sailor

Old sailboats are like a history book, as I discovered today.

When I arrived at the boat this morning with laptop in hand, I saw that the rescued Bowman yawl had been moved to the transient dock.

I worked until noon, had lunch and then went over for a look.

A classic yawl from Dartmouth

It's a windy sinister looking day, just the right atmosphere for a mystery boat.

I was told that the owner left the hospital in Lisbon and flew home, or maybe somewhere else.

According to Ryker, the lifeboat crew, which is in charge of the boat, came down to check on it yesterday.

Water was sloshing over the floor sole and the boat stank, probably from the soup of water, clothing, food and other items all fermenting in a closed boat for 1 week.

Clothing, sleeping bag and other stuff was just left lying in the cockpit.

And here is the missing cowl that probably triggered this sad chain of events.

Jacket stuffed (not very well) into the ventilation hole.

It makes me sad so see such a nice boat with so much history in this dismal condition.


Dock crowded with boats waiting for a weather window. Got a feeling Sea Brigand will be with us for some time to come.

Notice the ripped sail and broken windvane.

Did a little research and discovered that the sailor is Canadian and had another close call last year when 50+ knot winds unfurled his jib while at anchor in Dartmouth Harbour and his anchor began dragging. I mean, how unlucky can you get.

I don't know your name, but if you ever read this blog my hat goes off to you. How many 67-year old boat owners have the guts to single-handedly sail an ocean on a 46 foot boat.

Rescue video

Portuguese newspaper report about the rescue

English newspaper report about previous rescue during storm at anchor

I found another interesting tidbit on a delivery skipper's CV which states that he delivered the 46' yawl Sea Brigand from Lymington to Barbados in 1983.

Sea Rescue

I drove out to the marina after lunch to check the boat and run the engine for a while.

Walking down the pontoon, I saw Ryker brushing his teeth in the cockpit. He's been away since late June so we had a long conversation. He installed an engine in his other boat in France which required working on his knees for long periods. Now his right knee is killing him.

He told me about the carpenter Silva who fell off his bike and died. Actually he fell twice. The first time he refused to go to the hospital and, after regaining his composure, got on his bike again only to fall over dead 200 meters down the road. Goodbye Mr. Silva, you were a good man. He was a friendly and knowledgeable guy and it will probably take a while for his death to become a reality.

Silva was the retired boat carpenter I talked about in the post called The Yellow Sailboat.

Then Ryker told me about the English boat in the photograph below whose 67-year-old owner was airlifted by helicopter 30 miles offshore. The boat, a bare looking yawl, was towed into port where it is now tied to the fuel dock.

Rescued yawl at fuel dock beside the lifeboat (a box with two huge engines)

The ocean has been rough and the single hander fell on a vent cowl and hurt his ribs bad. Apparently he had no battery power and the boat was taking on water through the cowls...which explains why he was on deck. That's how the story came out anyway.

But it makes sense. It's not hard to imagine. The boat is pounding into the waves, white water is washing over the deck and into the faulty vents. The boarding water creeps over the ceiling headliner and onto the switch panel causing a general short-circuit.

The not-too-young sailor goes on deck with towels in hand to plug the cowls, the boat lurches and, bang, he falls flat across the deck. He painfully crawls back into the boat and faces the fact that he has no electricity, not even to start the engine, and that water is slowly but steadily trickling into the boat that is pounding into the waves and rolling uncomfortably.

What would you do?

David showed up and invited us to his Bavaria for a drink with his lovely daughter. Later I went to Manuel's boat and he showed me the cardboard replica he made of a Beta engine to guarantee that it would fit the space where his busted Volvo used to sit.

I drove home as the sun was setting and had dinner with Ana. Another day in the life of a sailboat owner. Could be worse.

Tall Ship Window View

It's been a mad week of work. I'll spare you the details...besides, I haven't got the time to describe how I'm in slave mode in exchange for peanuts, mere peanuts.

The stock market plan is on hold too. I'm waiting for some stocks to take a seriously deep dive, but they're just bouncing around going nowhere fast.

I'm taking a short break because this ship just sailed across my window.

Tall ship going towards Peniche

I know, it looks like a fuzzy box! But peanuts don't buy fancy Canon cameras. It's got all sails up and looked more exciting from here in real life.

I was going to wait for the sun to light up its sails pure white, but I don't even have the time for such a small luxury.