We have been planning our current two year cruise from Dublin to the Algarve along the West European coast for some time. Needless to say then, we have more than the passing interest of sailors on the the activities of a pod of Orcas that have been harassing boats from Brest to Gibraltar.
Most of the incidents are during the sailing high season, when there are more boats at sea. This is the time of year that this group of orcas are most active in the area west of Gibraltar. Later in the year they disperse into smaller family groups, some staying in the Bay of Cadiz, others making their way north as far as Brest or even Ireland. However by this time the number of sailing boats is tapering off for the Winter.
This accepted wisdom, we are cautioned, is generalised information. We are warned that orcas can be encountered at any time and anywhere at sea. However the experts tell us that attacking boats is a behaviour *mostly* restricted to this specific pod of about 50 animals, and it is *mostly* restricted to the Atlantic coast of Western Europe.
Our plans made it almost inevitable that at some point we would be crossing paths with these animals. This year we only intended to sail as far as Ria Arousa in Galicia, just north of Vigo, before laying up there for the Winter. Having left Ireland in April and spent the Summer cruising slowly around the Biscay coast, we weren’t particularly concerned about orcas on the far side of the Iberian peninsula. There were only very occasional reports of sightings or interactions elsewhere.
That changed on the 26th August last, as we started our cruise from La Coruña to Cape Finesterre. A cruise we planned in three legs, stopping a night or two each in the village of Corme, and the small town of Camariñas.
The weather was fine that Monday morning, we had a light northerly breeze in slight swells to push us along at an easy 5 to 6 knots. It is only about 35 miles to Corme, so this was ample to have us comfortably in port before dinner.
As cruisers we approach every passage with a degree of trepidation. Finisterre on the North West corner of Spain is known to many as the final stop on the Camino. Many people familiar with the Spanish Rias would know it as it divides them in two. The Rias north of Finesterre are known as the Rias Altos, and those south of it are the Rias Bajas. However amongst mariners, Finisterre has a formidable reputation in its own right for treacherous seas in any weather. It is comparable with Mizen Head in West Cork, or Cape St Vincent on the Southwest corner of Portugal. It also marks the Southern end of the “Costa da Morte”, Galician for “the coast of death”. The northern end of the costa being La Coruña. Our caution therefore was already in a higher gear as we embarked.
About half way along the first leg, as we approached the Illas Sisarga, our already heightened anxieties were ratcheted up another few notches. News filtered through from monitoring apps and social media groups of orca sightings and one attack in our area the previous day. The attacked boat, a Halberg Rassy 42, had its rudder bent and rescue services had towed it into Camariñas. During the tow, in the wind and swell, one of the crew was injured and had to be airlifted to hospital.
Orcas are sometimes referred to as “Killer Whales”.
All of a sudden things were getting very real.
Infuriatingly, and unhelpfully, expert advice on dealing with an attack varies. GT Orcas, a Portuguese based organisation that is monitoring the problem, advise stopping your boat and waiting until the whales lose interest. Another group, using the website orcas.pt, recommend heading away at top speed in the opposite direction that the animals are travelling.
The Spanish environmentalist Renaud de Stephanis, who has been studying the orcas, suggests that they attack the rudder because this the only moving part of the boat that they see. He says they are also attracted to a towed dinghy, as they see it as something to play with, and when they get bored with the dinghy they move on to the rudder.
On social media other tactics are discussed, frequently with no scientific reasoning. Some seem logical, others bordering on hocus pocus, and more suggestions are illegal, as orcas are a protected species. Amongst the more rational ideas is the advice to turn off your depth sounder as it is notifying the whales of your location. Another was throwing sand in the water to blur their vision. On the other hand some people suggest the colour of your antifoul is somehow relevant.
There seems to be a consensus that either staying inside the 20 metre contour line, or going far out to sea to deep water beyond the continental shelf, minimises your risk. The latter only makes sense for multi day passages. For those of us day hopping along the coast, sometimes the 20 metre contour line is less than 20 metres from the shore, or rock strewn, or both, and in any kind of weather or swell you are probably better off taking your chances in deeper water, orcas or no orcas, especially with your depth sounder off.
De Stephanis suggests you are less likely to encounter them if you stay within 2-3 km of the coast. This was advice we embraced once we reached the Illas Sisarga, and we continued into Corme without incident. We heeded this advice again the next day as we tiptoed along the coast to Camariñas, again without incident.
In Camariñas we met up again with Danny, an Australian who we had first met in A Coruña a few days before. Danny was single handing his Swedish registered boat all the way home to Adelaide with occasional help from friends from home.
The Ria in Camariñas is very well sheltered, the town is well serviced with restaurants and supermarkets, so it proved a good place to rest up for a few days. Then with a favourable forecast, we carefully made our way to Finesterre. Once around the headland, because the wind was still in the north, we went past Finesterre port, and headed up to anchor off the beach in the pretty little holiday village of Sardiñiero.
Sardiñiero is less than 30 miles north of Ria Arousa where we plan to set up base camp until we lift out in a boatyard and come home for the rest of the Winter. The coastline is east of Finisterre and in its lee, so we began to relax, relieved that we had eluded the orcas.
Or so we thought!
Danny followed us down the next day. After a couple of nights in Sardiñiero it was time to up anchor and move on. There is one more Ria between Sardiñiero and Arousa, the Ria de Muros, and we didn’t want to pass it by. We also wanted to get to a marina, our fresh water tanks were getting low after over a week of anchorages, and both our pilot book and Navily recommended the yacht club marina in Portosin.
Entering the Ria de Muros to Portosin was spectacular, not just because of the large pod of dolphins that greeted us and escorted us all the way up the Ria, but also because our VHF radio came alive with Mayday calls. Several boats had spotted Orcas just a few miles from us in the Ria Arousa. No fewer than three boats were attacked. One of the sightings and two of the attacks were actually inside the Ria itself, well within 3km of the shore. It was pure chance that we had detoured into Muros, or we would have been right in the thick of it ourselves.
That was on Monday, the 2nd September. As I write it is Friday evening. We haven’t seen any reports of what if any damage the attacked boats suffered. However there have been no further attacks reported in this area since, and only a single non contact sighting 10 miles north of Finesterre on Wednesday, over thirty miles from us. We are still in Ria Muros. Tomorrow morning we meet with Danny to plan the next leg of our journey, around the headland into Ria Arousa.
Fingers crossed!!
- Apps of interest: GT Orcas, Orcinus
- Relevant Web site: orcas.pt
- Interview with Renaud de Stephanis
- Photo album
- Response from Peter Cullen

