We started off really well, and had the kind of sailing that one loves, wind just aft of the beam about 15 knots, and hardly any waves, fantastic! I had left at about 8am, and guessed I would be off Valencia just as it would be getting dark. About lunch time I decided to do a really nice salad, you know, the works, with the fresh bread I had got first thing this morning. It was a mixture of tinned sardines and chorizo, not the best mix, but with lettuce tomatoes, cucumber, onions and peppers, and a dash of Jackie's home made dressing it was going to be top dollar, and so it was. I had just finished and was just sitting there minding my own business, (I am quite conscientious, and safety is always part of the single handers' itinery. so my lifejacket and harness are with me 24/7 ish!)when, with a pop and a whoosh the whole lot in the corner of the cockpit goes off automatically, and self inflates! I've got to say it was a shock, and when I plucked up the courage to pick it up and inspect it, I realised that if I had been in it, it would probably have strangled me, or at the very least made it difficult to move about. It was rock hard, and of course I had to deflate it and contemplate my next move. Quick, take a picture of it, and when I get the chance, email Len and Amanda to see if they have got any charge kits for them. It was one of those expensive Halberg Rassey types that they had very kindly given to me, along with loads of other stuff. Muchas gracias!
Anyway we wiled our way down the coast, the wind went a little on the light side, and to maintain a decent speed, I fired up Beta and we cruised along at 5 knots without a care in the world. I decided to get the evening meal prepared a.s.a.p. so there would be no messing about when darkness fell. A few squally looking clouds were building over the land, but we were ten miles off and the sky was a wonderful blue, long may it remain, I suppose the wind strength was about ten knots true and still behind us, so if I smoked, it would be going vertical, almost. (I don’t, packed up three years ago and hate all smokers now, well, perhaps not all.)
Just past Valencia, it looked like a big storm was breaking out. I was a good ten miles off and thinking "Lets get out more, we don’t want any of that.", so we went another ten degrees to starboard, even on that course, we would not clear Cabo de Nao, the next big turning point, which is on the edge of a little town called Javea, full of ex pats, (I should know because my ex mother in law used to live there.), but very pretty all the same and it is also the closest jumping off point to get to the island of Ibiza, approximately 60 miles away.
I was expecting to arrive at the big cabo at dawn, around 7 am, so I had another nine hours before the rounding, and then head just south of west instead of south east, which I was doing then. (You bored yet?) During the night, we were motor sailing with a few knots of wind behind, and averaging about 5 knots. There was a lot of lightning around but it was too far off for me to hear the thunder, and it all looked pretty clear to seaward. I started getting some snatches of sleep using my usual programme, and was feeling quite refreshed as midnight passed.
In the early hours it was still pitch black, but the lightning seemed much more intense, still no thunder, and I was within a couple of hours of rounding Cabo Nao. I detected a slight increase in wind probably north westerly this time, as I was headed south east, but soon to be turning sharp right and heading in a south west by west direction. During the next couple of hours, the rain came and the wind increased markedly. It was still pitch black with only the lighthouse flashing to keep me company as I donned full oilies for what I feared, was going to be another hard slog, Things started to get wet, very wet. I had reefed down expectantly, and had the small jib on, so felt quite snug. As I rounded the Cabo, the wind very kindly seemed to follow me round, so it was always on the starboard quarter. I thought about my options now it was getting a bit nasty. I had Moraira, just a few miles and I could get in there no problem. The wind seemed steady, and although wet from driving rain and spray, we weren’t too uncomfortable. Moraira came and went. My next option was Calpe, which once round Penan de Elfach, would be easy to enter, but still the wind seemed steady, about 25 knots true. Because I was close in to the land, i.e. less than a mile, there were no big waves to piss me off. The rain had eased a bit, and visibility was not too bad. I ruled out Torrevieja, which was my original plan, because it would have meant going out to sea in those unpleasant waves. My next option, as I slid past Calpe, was Alicante, about 20 miles down the road. It was a tough decision, but onwards we went, and Alicante was to be the final stop for this leg.
Still keeping close to the land, we were cracking along at 6 knots over the ground, and although I was in full oilies, and a bit damp, things were all OK. I grabbed some cornflakes with lots of sugar to give me a boost and get me through the next three hours. The wind had eased a lot and with about an hour to go, about six miles, I had shook out the reef, and we were still doing 5 knots. I had taken my jacket off and was sort of dozing in the cockpit, WHEN, with a whoosh, the boat heeled hard over, and started to round up to starboard. I sprung into action, and immediately sussed that the wind had come in from a totally different direction, and with such force that I had to immediately get on deck and drop the main completely. I guessed we had about 30 knots from the south east, and although it was still behind me, it brought with it a driving rain that obliterated all the land, even though I was only half a mile off. Ahead about a mile, was a point that jutted out into the sea, and I had to be very careful, because now I couldn’t see it. Thank goodness for the chart plotter. I swiftly went below and enlarged the chart area so I could see our course and the jutting out bit, then going into the cockpit and altering course till I knew we would miss it. It did not take long for a bit of a sea to build, and we were ploughing along at 5 knots, with just the small jib up. It seemed an age before the rain eased enough for the main wall at the port of Alicante to come into view. I started to get the ropes and fenders ready, and as soon as I was round the main breakwater, things calmed down enough for me to get myself sorted out, and once again, wonder what the hell I was doing this for. I must be mad, especially when I could be watching Rugby League and Moto GP on the box in the comfort of my own home, with a nice cold beer, what is wrong with me???????
My arrival in Alicante did not stop the rain, and crowds did not come out to greet me. In fact, it was the most miserable entrance I think I have ever made. I sat on the waiting dock for three hours, while the Spanish have there little sleep, and then, after being summoned to the office with my documents, I was greeted by a lady, who for some reason or other looked down on yachties, or perhaps the world in general, and after mugging me for 22 euros (yes that’s 22 quid), she couldn’t even be bothered to tell me where the showers were. She also gave me a berth right over the other side of the marina, where since I was there in the mid eighties, they have built a fab nightclub. Yes you guessed it, not much sleep. I had formed an opinion on Alicante, and nobody was going to change my mind, I was leaving tomorrow and that was that.
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