Saucepans and Whistles

Ahoy,

alas the time came for myself and the Ol' Girl to say goodbye to Captain Mike and Sally and show our rudder to Nazare.
I awoke early to find the Sun rising well and the fog clearing. As the weather predictions seemed to suggest all was OK for heading South I decided to leave. The Marina had pretty much cleared of fog, the fishermen were making ready and all was well.

Little did I know what I was about to put the Ol' Girl through.

We managed a few miles before the fog came back with a vengeance. I had the choice to head back to Nazare but this may well have involved passing through quite a few fishing boats, not to mention heading towards land, so with a friends words ringing in my ears"if in doubt stay out" I headed on.

Feeling the heat of the Sun I felt confident that the fog would not last, a very important lesson was learnt this day. Confidence and weather are two words that do not sit comfortably together.

After three hours visibility was down to seventy meters and I had another twelve hours to go, the Ol' Girl has some cool kit, although she has no Radar. This meant I was almost blind in nautical terms. Having very little experience sailing and no experience sailing in fog I found myself to be, lets say, on edge. I did have the advantage of speaking to a couple of friends on the mobile, two experienced salts who proffered some wise words.(thanks Rich n Mark)

I contacted the coastguard and gave them my bearing and position, together with the information I had no Radar and my air horn was broken.(it decided not to work after just ten *%!*ing minutes) So I decided to double click the PTT button on the VHF every ten minutes on full power.
I felt a little better that at least the coastguard could track us despite the fog becoming denser by the hour. Many hours later and more than a little tired from the stress of no visibility, more surprises were on the way.
My log book at eleven thirty at night reads" Coastguard warned me of vessel on collision course, they have not been able to raise them on VHF radio, take evasive action" I did not have to be told twice and changed course. After what seemed like an age another broadcast" vessel is still on collision course off my Port beam" by now, with no foghorn or Radar I was a tiny bit agitated. Thankfully Rich called to see how everything was going, I mentioned in passing the situation and he suggested hitting a saucepan and blowing a whistle. It sounded worth it to me, so this is what I did after changing course again, for the best part of forty minutes. It's dark, foggy and mentally uncomfortable and I am banging a saucepan and blowing a whistle like a drunk at carnival on a full moon. (On my own there was nobody to take any pictures, phew)

Eventually I caught sight of the vessel the coastguard mention and came about to their aft quarter, shouted a few words about VHF at them and stayed out of their way.

I phoned Cascais Marina and asked about the local visibility, better news, once I rounded the headland visibility was believed to be back to normal and thankfully it was.

The visitor pontoon was a good size and no trouble . Exhausted I went to sleep after the briefest of greetings, thinking that on the way back up this coast in the future the Ol' Girl will definitely have Radar and I may have crew, well, maybe.