The blackness was comprehensive. Rain drilled on the decks. The wheelhouse was lit only by the sweeping colour on the radar screens, by which we navigated. Painted blobs on the displays were our electronic eyes, making visible what was not.

The dash was covered with a blanket to mask out the illuminated LCD displays and I leaned forward, peering into the void, hoping to eyeball any one of the 10 vessels that could be seen within the 3 mile sweep of the radar scanner. But is was too dark, the rain too intense, the sea too big, the fishing boats too small and many were not fitted with running lights. So STARSHIP ploughed on, confident in her instruments.

The faintest sign of a running light pierced the fog and darkness, seesawing around in the swell. After a few moments it became clear which direction the boat was heading. Ships that pass in the night. The rain abated for a moment and more appeared from the night; some close, others further away, but all predicted by the radar. I switched to autopilot mode and wove between them, dialing up a new bearing on the AP35. Apart from having to radically alter course to avoid one twit with chronic ignorance, the STARSHIP crew navigated the milieu on our various night watches with success and rolled into a drizzling Porto just after 0730.

Ships in port.
[ photo - James Frankham ]

After a morning’s work, Birgit and I headed into the town of Leixões. Its black and white (basalt and calcarium) cobbled pavements were shining with the rain that fell resolutely all day. We ran a couple of errands, stopped for a coffee to warm up and visited some of the local shops. On Avenida de D.Afonso Henriques was the most fascinating red tarpaulin-covered stall. It seemed to sell only products made of plastic less than a dollar in value. A string of light illuminated water pistols, combs, plastic trucks and assorted Barbie accessories. The net value of the entire 20 cubic metres of poly-vinyl paraphenalia must have been less than a hundred bucks, so it came with some surprise that we noticed a six-shot revolver in the sticky-tape drawer! Some people are serious about their plastic stuff. With many polite gestures of goodwill and peace we shuffled outside again and continued down the tree-lined avenue.

Plastic paraphenalia.
[ photo - James Frankham ]

A Renaissance church, Senhor do Bom Jesus, faces a long chequered square. It had a face-lift in the 18th century by an Italian architect, Nicolau Nasoni, in an early Baroque fashion which lasts to this day. The drizzle continued to hang in the air, adding to a pleasant melancholy that seemed to drift down the Leixões harbour. Built in 1884 it is lined on both sides with large ships, offloading their cargo to waiting trucks.

Tomorrow we cross the bridge again to explore Porto itself. Stay tuned,

James