The Med at last…………….. Gibraltar, 5th October 2007 - We had a frustrating time
getting here as the wind was against us the day we tried to leave Rota and we ended
up five hours and thirty miles later, salt encrusted and sick bespattered (me),
at a place called Puerto Sherry only five miles from our departure point. Because
of a Venus/Mars language difficulty we didn’t go into Cadiz - curses. However there
was a ferry from nearby (45 minute walk - no bus) Santa Maria which we took advantage
of to revisit Cadiz and stumbled upon a marvellous lunch. We had it in the restaurant
of the Escuela de Hosteleria de Cadiz. We passed it on our walk and on impulse decided
to try it. After a lot of telephoning at the reception point, we guessed all the
personnel were students, we were ‘collected’ and taken up in the lift. I think it
had thrown them that we had walked in off the street and not made a reservation.
We were led into the dining room, no other diners as yet. It was all white linen
table cloths , fresh flowers, shining cutlery, glassware and a wonderful view over
treetops to the Bay of Cadiz - it said to me, ‘mistake, expensive mistake!’ But
there was no turning back and two rather scruffy personages were at the mercy of
five intense and serious students. Formal and attentive they would not take no for
an answer about an aperitif, the girl thought we didn’t understand the question and
brought in an interpreter - we gave in, had a sherry and after that, course followed
elegant course all beautifully served and really delicious.
The best thing about Puerto Sherry was meeting Luis Portugal, (names have been changed
to protect identity). As we waited at the arrival pontoon we were hailed - ‘Ahoy
Hoyster’ , I stared up the mast looking to see what was loose but Andy cottoned on
straight away that he was referring to our boat. Luis, a Portuguese, from Cascais
but now living in the area is a charming man with very good English who recognised
a boat of quality when he saw one! He came on board for a look and later in the
evening brought his friend to have a look as well. The following day we had lunch
together and he gave us a much appreciated insight into Spain and Portugal. It has
been frustrating not being able to converse freely with our Iberian hosts. Not
because of reticence on their side but our lack of fluency. I am reading an excellent
book at the moment for anyone who wants to understand modern Spain, - ’Ghosts of
Spain - travels through a country’s hidden past.’ by Giles Tremlett
‘Tarifa Traffico’ monitor ships going in and out of the Mediterranean. We MOTORED
along listening to the multitude of different accents informing Tarifa of their last
port of call, next port of call, information on dangerous cargo etc. - New Orleans
to Egypt - the Philippines to Immingingham - and ports we had never heard of.
Then finally we were at the entrance to the Mediterranean, framed and guarded by
the pillars of Hercules, Ceuta and Gibraltar. It was very exciting passing through
the straits with the great hills of Morocco, the tail end of the Atlas mountains
on one side and the Rock on the other imagining what the ancients thought as they
ventured out for the first time.
Tarifa is famous for its surf and the fact that for 300 days of the year the winds
exceed 30 knots - we had obviously picked day 301!
Farewell and adieu to you fine Spanish ladies / Farewell and adieu to you ladies
of Spain / For I have been ordered to return to England / and da da da da da da da
da daa dum dum……………. - So irritating not to be able to remember lyrics!
We think it is five years since we conceived the idea of a boat in the Med and tonight
we have reached Gibraltar. We had a chilled bottle of something fizzy in the cockpit
to celebrate and watched the red sun setting over Africa (actually that might be
a slight exaggeration) Spain anyway.
We’re moving to a different CHART! Unfortunately none of the chandlers have the
Costa del Sol pilot book but we have had so many chats and advice that, armed with
our electronic chart we probably won’t need it.
THE WRECK OF GIBRALTAR - we had read for ages about a wreck in the Straits of Gibraltar
and today we finally saw it, guarded by cardinal buoys to keep the unwary safe. The
wreck looked sad but what amused us was the juxtaposition of names. The boat was
called New Flame and the buoys guarding it, New Wreck!
Almerimar - 11 Oct 07 - It is the kiss of death as far as wind is concerned to
put the hydrovane rudder on. It guarantees no wind at all and Scarlet the Harlot
does not get to strut her stuff. The fact is we have motored the whole way from
the northern Portuguese border to the south east corner of Spain with scarcely TEN
hours of sailing. We did put the colourful cruising chute up for about an hour or
so but that too is a goad to Aeolus and he immediately withdraws patronage.
At certain points on our journey flies have been a nuisance. Imagine my delight
when I passed a pet shop in Cadiz and spied a insect eating plant. No sooner seen
than purchased and born back on the ferry in triumph. The blasted thing has yet
to earn its passage. Total catch so far - one tiny moth. Hundreds of flies were
around on this last trip from Gibraltar to Almerimar and so bold they were, I observed
them marching up and down the leaves of my pathetically wimpy plant. I put up a dreaded
sticky paper that usually catches Andy - they managed to avoid that too so I had
to be brutal and resort to the SWAT!
Tomorrow we are hiring a car and going up the coast to see if there are alternatives
to Almerimar. We will also explore Cartagena and perhaps Granada. We are in Flamenco
country, I didn’t realise it was song as well as dance, sounds like the Portuguese
Fado. I hope to experience it but meanwhile I listen to the fish in the evening
as they beat out a complicated Flamenco rhythm under the boat - it really does sound
like feet tapping or fingers clicking.
Until the next time - Jinti
