GARRUCHA TO FUENGIROLA

hey
is that Bev
























Well, at least I was allowed to stay, and also David and Bev were waiting at the gate to see me. Basically they are friends of Jackie, and live in Lincoln, but have a house in MOJACAR, on the edge of Garrucha, so once tied up, we went and had a beer or two and arranged for them to pick me up later for some food and wine at their place. So it was back to the boat and tidy up, and with the southerly wind rising, I had to find a way of keeping the boat off the makeshift fuel jetty with the hard rubber tyres. I eventually got the big springs out, and rigged a lot of lines, paying particular attention to springing the stern away from the jetty. It seemed to work O.K., but the swell was worrying me, so I put down the protective sheets as well. They are just old sails, cut and hung over the side to prevent fender rub, it was actually 3 layers of sails, so quite good protection. I did a bit on the blog and in no time, it was time for Dave and Bev to pick me up. Funny thing was, I was supposed to catch up with these guys back in 2006, but because of a bit of bad weather, we missed out Garrucha and went straight to Cartagena. I think Dave was hoping for a bit of a sail, and I had originally planned to be here the week before, but just ran out of time, so now, there was no time for a bit of a sail. Never mind, maybe next time. We had a great evening, and I took our box of wine off the boat for them to try, after being told it was "undrinkable" back in Torreivieja by Carol. I had some too and Bev gave it the thumbs up, so the box is back on the boat ready for the next tasting session. By the time they dropped me back at the boat, the wind had died down, and I had a peaceful night.

The next day was nice and sunny, and the capitan came round and told me the wind would be back that afternoon and would I like to move to the other side of the jetty? YES! YES!, I said, and he helped me move without even starting the engine. I had a couple of boiled eggs and toast for breakfast and thought about my next move and when i should leave. If the weather was settled I could get down to Fuengirola in one hit. It's about 180 miles but not a lot of bolt holes. I checked the weather a few times, and it all looked pretty good if I left that night. The wind was going round to the north and then in the early hours of Friday, it was going to be easterly for a couple of days, sounded perfect. I spent the afternoon doing a few jobs and catching up with the blog in a local cafe that had wi-fi. Dave and Bev then arrived and we went for something to eat. I asked them to take me to a supermarket to get a few things and I was back on the boat by 7 pm.

That old nervy feeling came back, there seemed to be quite a bit of wind, and it was already out of the north. I delayed, and checked the weather again, still no change, so that was that, I was going, and would try to get out just before dusk. I got everything stowed and secure, made a flask of tea and slipped my lines. Whilst still in the harbour, I stowed the ropes and fenders and got the main up. The wind had dropped in the last half hour, and as I motored out, it all felt pretty good. Cuppa in hand, and not really enough wind to sail, I just chugged away south. There was quite a large sea running, which was making it just a tad uncomfortable, and I popped below to take a STUGERON, better safe than sorry is my motto. I dunno, it must have been just after midnight when I went round Cabo de Gata and started heading west. The seas were a lot worse, and because there was hardly any wind, I was not tired, and so it was a doddle going across the bay of Almeria, apart from the waves, and they were taking a hell of a long time to die down. I closed the coast on the other side long after daylight and had some coffee and breakfast. The beta just chugged on. I called Jackie on the mobile to tell her of my progress and for some strange reason, could not get the weather on the laptop with the vodaphone dongle, so I asked her to take a look at "Wind Guru", and let me know the forecast. After a few minutes, she got back to me and told me in no uncertain terms to get in somewhere, as tonight was going to be very strong winds from the east "It's all purple" she said "you must get in somewhere!" It put me a little on edge I suppose, but the wind was not due to come until 10 pm thatnight, so I had options, not many, but options. I suppose the one that stuok out a mile was a place called Motril. If I kept on at the present pace, I should get there for about 8pm, so I put in a couple of waypoints, and if I remember rightly, I had about 50 miles to go so must keep my average up to 5 knots. There was an adverse current going easterly that I could do nothing about, so I just had to keep plugging away.

I had a nice lunch, and it was a nice day with the sun out, so I just relaxed. I had enough diesel to get me there, so all in all, no worries. By mid afternoon the breeze started to fill in, and within an hour, I had enough to do 5 knots with the engine on very low revs, by five pm, the engine was off and the jib poled out. (Yes I know, people pay thousands for this!) by 6.30 pm, Motril was an hour away and with some white water now showing, harness on and get the jib off the pole. As the wind was dead aft I had to sheet the jib in, to stop it collapsing then filling with a bang. The seas started to build quickly, and I just had one more headland to get round, and I was home. Once off the headland, with the wind increasing and following me round, I knew I needed to get some main off and started the engine, just in case I needed to round up to get it down. For some reason, I just felt I was so close to the harbour entrance that I delayed it all just a little too long, and it seemed that in every minute the wind was increasing. (Anxious? You bet!) I disconnected the wind vane and put the autohelm on. Turning into these waves with the wind was not going to be nice, so I thought I would be able to drag the main down with brute force. Didn't work, and I also lost the halyard! Back to the cockpit, and the important thing now, was not to miss the entrance, which believe me, was hard to spot. Again, the plotter was fantastic, and guided me in. The wind and waves were now giving me a battering, but i had a plan. Once inside, I could go to starboard where there was a big area protected by a breakwater, so I could go in deep and round up to get the main down. Forgot to tell you, I had the jib off a while back, before it got tasty. So with main down, and some ties on it, I could chill a bit and find somewhere to tie up. I now had plenty of time to get the ropes and fenders sorted, and then move further down into the harbour, to be greeted by a man from the guardia, beckoning me to the humungous wall where big ships park. I went alongside and he didn't have a clue when i threw him my lines. Instead of putting them round a bollard, he thought he could just hold them!!! Crazy man!! We eventually got it sorted and I found out what he was good at. He mugged me for 15 euros and pissed off! No water, no electric and no way to get ashore, but what was nice was, he did it all with a smile. Welcome to Motril! I remembered three years ago being there, and it is the back end of . . . . . . . .! Be nice micky boy!

I used my dongle to check the weather, and whilst the pressure cooker was doing it's stuff, tidied up the boat. The weather looked fantastic for the next day, but I didn't make any rash decisions. All I wanted to do was eat and get in my nice warm bunk, since I didn't sleep the night before.

I slept like a baby, woke about 8 am, made a cuppa and had a look outside. The wind was gone, the sun was up! Hey man, this was a day for living, and to celebrate I had four boiled eggs and toast. I got the laptop out, attached the dongle and brought up the forecast. There were strong winds down Gibraltar way, but it looked fine for here and where I was headed. I cleaned up and made ready for departure, and finally got under way at 0930 on Saturday the 2nd. It was the day before I briefly planned to go to the Moto GP in JEREZ. I knew it wasn't going to happen, but never mind. Then, something remarkable happened, I had got full main up and was about 100 yards from the pier heads when I saw two dolphins. (Do you believe in fairy tales?) Well believe or not, these two came straight at me, and then with one each side, they turned round and seemed to be leading me out of the harbour. I shot below to get the camera, but every time I tried to get a piccy they dived. Once outside they seemed to disappear, and I turned once more to the west, and motored on toward Fuengirola about 60 miles away. I have had a couple of run ins with dolphins on other occasions and both have been remarkable, but that another story.

The sail down to Fuengirola was largely uneventful, almost the same as the day before, with some strong winds at the end, but not half as bad as Motril. I got in just after dark, and moored on the fuel jetty till the morning. In the middle of the night, the guardia came in with their big motor boat and a few crew. There was a swell coming into the harbour, so it must have been getting a bit rough out there. Again slept like a baby, and when I awoke, there was a lot of movement. The waves were breaking over the breakwater, and we had gale force winds from the south east for a couple of days, so I got in just in time! Now all I wanted to do, was chill, chill, chill for a while, and maybe take a break from it all. I had arranged to meet up with some friends, Jane and Peter and also Peter and Val the golf fanatics from MIJAS, and not forgetting my very good friends at the Karma bar in the harbour who I met a couple of years ago whilst passing through.

It was time to chill out for a while as the trip so far had not been easy. I had some jobs to do, and some damage to repair, and I needed to give the old girl a coat of varnish. This is less than a days' work, and it is the prep that takes the time. I always leave one handrail as it was when we brought Simo, and that always serves to remind me what she would look like should I get lazy! When the job was done, she looked fantastic. I cleaned the toilet seat that was going a bit yellow and generally, in between pints of John Smith's at the Karma Bar, got a fair bit of work done.

I decided to have a break and get the night train back to France. Ten days should recharge the batteries, and when I return, I can concentrate on getting out of the straits and into Portugal, then make some decisions. The week in Fuengirola was hot, not really what I had been used to, but of course, it's now May and we should expect it to be warmer. I had a great time, shopping, eating, etc. etc. Jane found me a new pole for the boat hook because I lost the original in the storm a few weeks ago. Funny, that now seems a world away, but gotta be honest, I don't fancy it again.

I decided to get myself an old persons' railcard and get the night train back to France for 116 euros, and am now back at home. The trip so far has been fab, and I will probably get the train back to Fuengirola on the 21st May, so I hope you are enjoying it so far. Don't forget to take a look at my "JUST GIVING" link, and if you can afford it, give a few bob, you know it makes sense. Even though we feel at times that life is tough, there is always someone who is much worse off than you are.

When I get back I will try to get the video act together so you can see a day in the life. Hey, be good you guys!

micky boy

ALICANTE TO GARRUCHA

what a welcome

a perfect anchorage hornillowow a statue for the people


















Well I couldn't get away from Alicante quick enough, and at 9am I was on my way, the weather was ok and it looked like a brisk motor sail to get down to Torrievieja where I was to be joined by a young lad called Thomas for a week. Thomas works in a boatyard back in the UK at South Ferriby, and wants the chance to get to learn to sail a bit. Luckily, he missed the first few days, where he may have been put off for life. Anyway the trip down was uneventful and i arrived and got checked in to the marina where the staff were a bit more friendly, I also caught up with some old friends Didier and Carol, and we enjoyed a beer or two whilst discussing the best way to collect Thomas from the airport at Alicante for not too many Euros! The job fell to Bob but he stuck to his fee despite me pleading poverty. Thomas duly arrived the next day and I settled him in showed him his bunk and mentioned once or twice the importance of being tidy on such a small boat. He only had a small rucksack so there wasn't much stuff to be untidy, and for the duration of the trip he was as good as gold. I do remember one night we had steak and potatoes and my pot of English mustard has not been seen since. THOMAS!!!!!!!! WHERE IS IT?

Anyway after Thomas had settled in we decided the next day to just go out and have a practice leaning curve sail just around the bay and than we would come back and anchor for the night pump up the dingy and row ashore for a couple of jars of the amber nectar, or in Thomas's case the magners cider, with ice, all went great it was force 3/4 and a nice gentile start. Next day we decided to go down the coast and into the Mar Menor a great big inland lagoon that generally has about 5 metres of water, we had a good sail in a force 4, only trouble was it was right on the nose and we had to tack all the way down to the entrance at a place called Thomas Maestri , you have to go under a bridge and it only opens every two hours, you guessed it we missed it by a few minutes and ended up anchoring in the approach till 6pm when the bridge duly opened for us and we motered through and as soon as we were in the lagoon we hoisted the main and motor sailed the 5 miles or so to the other side where we planned to anchor for the night, the wind had piped up a bit and was probably a force 5 by now on the beam the sun was low and in our eyes and this combination did not help when Thomas shouted that he had seen a couple of lobster pots, i glinted through the sun and steered hard to starboard , (oh by the way we had the engine on as well)and suddenly I felt something in our prop and imediatltly put the engine into neutral,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, to late whatever it was we were caught and it was firmly round us, I quickly got the main down and in no time at all we had drifted fifty yards and could see a large floated net being towed along in our wake, It was now starting to get dark and I didn't fancy being stuck there when some hairy arsed Spanish fisherman came along to retrieve his nets,Admirably Thomas said he would go over and cut it free I didn't argue , but told him where the wet suit goggles and flippers were, in no time at all we had him over board with a big knife and he proceeded to cut it away , whilst i scanned the middle distance for fishermen , it seemed like an hour and finally Thomas said he had sorted it , seemed he swallowed the mouth piece of the snorkel because when he came up it was missing , i helped him of with the suit and fired up the Beta and we were on out way arriving at our destination about 9 pm we anchored and the wind died down and we had a peasant evening , In the morning, we had run clean out of water and again the young volunteer went rowing ashore to find a place to fill out plastic container , job done and we were on our way again to exit the bridge and we gave a big wide berth to the place where the nets attacked us , we saw fishermen working the area , but luckily ,,,, .

The day dawned wonderful with the sun soon up and not a breath of wind we passed through the bridge ok except for a German guy on a catamaran acting like Michael Shumacher when we tried to overtake , but just like Damon we got past him , but with the fiercest look on his face he got past and was never seen again .
We decided to troll some fishing gear and we had a rod each with a selection of lures , no don't worry nothing exciting and no tale to tell, we caught nothing and it was so hot i decided to dig out the garden parasol and give the cockpit some shelter. We rounded the cape and headed almost due west to Cartagena our next destination, a beautiful old naval town that I had visited a couple of years ago with Jackie , we motor'd probably until the last couple of hours when a fresh easterly piped up and we sailed along pretty quick and fairly close in to, we passed load's fish farms and were tempted to go close and dip our rods , ( only joking) eventually we turned the corner and passed a massive cable laying rig, almost the size of a small village before heading for the marina where we tied up without event packed the sails away and went exploring.We had a nice pasta mix for dinner that night, a couple of pints and then bed.Thomas was going to be flying home on Tuesday and so we decided to stay in Cartagena because it would be easier to get transport to the airport , the weather forecast was not to good anyway , so on Saturday we just chilled out and decided we would just go for a sail into the bay on Sunday morning , Sunday dawned and the seemed to be quite a bit of wind and it looked like the local racing fleet was getting itself prepared for the weekly race round the cans , We went out through the breakwater just before the racer cruisers and although we had full main and number one stay sail we needed it to get through the huge swell on the outside , we had a fantastic sail almost around the same course as the racing fleet and whilst we could not live with them upwind , once we had put the flying head sail up we were more than a match with everything drawing and surfing down some big swells all very exciting stuff , we loved every minute of it ..


That night we went out exploring and walked along the edge of the naval barracks , we passed a massive house that said capitanary , and we assumed it must be for the admiral , and just above our heads in the bushes were armed combat troops guarding the perimeter ,one was a gal and i asked her if she spoke english ,,,, she ignored me , Well all to soon Thomas's time was up and we got him on a bus to the airport.
I am pretty sure he enjoyed himself , he has promised to learn Spanish and come back in two years time to do something that ,,, well it escapes my mind, but by jove there are some pretty senoritas out there that might just be eighteen in a couple of years time , good luck my boy .

I had decided to leave on the Tuesday and once again had set my goal for a place called Garrucha some 45 miles away but with two or three get outs there was still a big swell running and I started out with full mail and number 1 stay sail I had left at about 10 am and it was a beat , the wind coming from the south, I am not that keen on a beat , but the sun was shining and we were doing 4/5 knots even in the swell as the morning progressed it looked as though the wind was backing and enabling me to lay my course , and by 2pm we were getting a bit over pressed and so i decided to put a few rolls in the main , eventually I put in half a dozen and this takes it almost down to the first reef , we were now back to comfort again and continued thru till late afternoon when the wind died considerably and it was shake out the rolls and within an hour i had to put the engine on the give us some power to get through the swells , Garrucha was out , it would be dark but the time I got there, but I found a great little place that looked completely sheltered from most conditions, it was called Hornillo. I arrived about 8 pm and felt my way in and went into the sheltered corner and dropped the hook in 6/7 metres tidied up and got some food on the go. In the bay there was an old iron work structure about 80 foot high and it was obvious that ships used to come alongside and the train cart would come along the structure and dump there loads from up high into the ships holds , as it got dark it became quite Erie looking at this rusty old structure that was now used by people for fishing.
I got a great nights sleep and the next morning up with the anchor and motor sail the 18 odd miles to Gurrucha where luckily i didn't call on the radio for a place ,,, else he would have told me NO ROOM HERE I rounded the heads and there was a massive ship docked and i eventually moored up to the fuel dock and waited for the reception committee, eventually all the paperwork was sorted and I got to meet the real capitenair , and he said you can stay on the fuel dock for a couple of nights,
A DECISION I ALMOST CAME TO REGRET , SO WATCH THIS SPACE

BENICARLO TO ALICANTE

After a very pleasant stay in Benicarlo, we got a good forecast to enable us to put some miles down and get south. The plan was to get down to Torrevieja in one hit, about 150 miles I think, so we could do it in 36 hours. Again with confidence still on the dull side, I opted to go round the coast, like about ten miles off, just in case !!!!!!!! You know what I mean.

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.

TARRAGONA TO BENICARLO

What a lovely place. Tarragona is a small compact town with lots happening, radio stations that play English music 24/7 and the staff in the marina are just so helpful, whatever you want to know, just ask and Helena the receptionist will do her best to sort it for you. I've only got one criticism, and that is, it is a bit "moovey aboutee" in a southerly, with a lot of movement so you need those metal springy things.

As usual, it was soon time to move on, and once again I checked the weather several times before deciding to leave. It all looked perfect for at least a couple of days, so my plan was to go south and around the Ebro delta, which sticks out quite a way, and then sort of follow the coast. That way, should anything that I did not fancy show up, I could within a short space of time, be in shelter in a nice marina, because down this stretch of coast, they are two a penny. With a north west wind of about 15 knots, I left the marina and sailed past the oil pipeline buoy, which is massive, and has half a mile of trailing, floating pipe attached. I think it is for tankers to tie up and take on or discharge oil. I remember when we were sailing off Lexoies, near Porto, we encountered one, and it scared us to death, bearing in mind it was thick fog and we just wanted to get in. Anyway, I digress, sun was up and I was just thinking about ringing Jackie, and telling her how many thousands of pounds people pay, for sailing like this, when I decided to have some weetabix, and a nice cuppa out of the flask. The Ebro delta was about 20 odd miles away, and I had put in a waypoint about 5 miles to the east, to be well clear, and then I could get back in close again.

After a couple of hours, the wind died, and I had to put the iron horse on. It kicked us along at 5 knots, so not a lot to complain about. There was not a cloud in the sky, and as I past my first waypoint, a slight breeze filled in from the south east. As I chewed on an apple, it occurred to me, that if this fed in a bit strong, I would have the Ebro as a lee shore. I let the thought get away, after all, the forecast was never more that 15 knots, and according to "wind guru" it could come from anywhere.

I decided that tonight was going to be curry night. I had bought a tasty looking bit of meat, not sure if it was lamb or beef, but it didn’t matter about being tende, because once it had been in the pressure cooker for 15 minutes, it would melt in the mouth. I fried an onion (all done in the pressure cooker)and then a bit of garlic, diced the meat into medium pieces, and threw them in. I got it all nicely browned and then the coup de grace, a special mixture of herbs and spices that Jackie had blended together and put in one big jar for me. All I had to do, was add a couple or three spoonfuls, give it a good stir and Bob's.......(well, Bob used to get us cheap fags, but that’s another story!)I put in a tin of tomatoes and a tin of mushrooms, then gave it all a good old stir till it started to rock, and then I remember Jackie saying something about some coconut milk, and she had got me a couple of packets. Where had I put it? I had a look out, as we were heeling a bit, and the wind seemed to be up a couple of knots, then I went back to hunting for the......ahh, there it is! I cut the top of with the scissors, and poured in the lot, another good stir and then a couple of cupfuls of water, to give it the required amount of fluid, brought to the boil with the lid firmly in place and when the steam started blowing, I popped on the weight, and let it blast away for 15 minutes, reducing the heat as necessary.

Time to come up and have a good look around. The wind was freshening and still from the south east, this was going to piss me off I could tell. There was a whole line of fishing boats heading to where I had just come from, all further out to sea than me. I was in 180 feet of water so no worries. A few wispy clouds began to appear, and I suppose the wind was about 12 knots true. Some waves had formed during the next couple of hours, and the wind had increased to probably 18 knots, but the seas had increased alarmingly, well no, not alarmingly, but they were getting big and steep. I guessed that this was because, only a couple of miles to the east, the sea goes deep, I mean really deep, from 60 metres where I was, to 300 hundred metres in the space of less than half a mile, and I guessed that the fishing boats were all on that line.

The pressure cooker was taken of the stove, and put on the floor for safekeeping and I decided to put four or five rolls in the main. I already had the small jib on. It seemed to be taking ages to get past the Ebro delta, and I had also noticed that the wind was veering more in to the south, forcing me further inshore at a time when I did not really want to go inshore. A couple of big waves made my mind up to tack, and go out to beyond the step line where the water gets deep. By now, I have my oilies on, as a few waves become playful. I DON’T WANNA PLAY! It is still in my mind what happened last week, off the Pyrenees. I got myself out further, probably about a mile beyond the line, and tacked back. The wind had veered by then and to maintain a decent heading, I kept the engine on, and we moved along pretty good at 5 knots with the waves not quite so big.

By about 5pm, I was getting a little fed up. The wind was up to above 20 knots, and it was kicking up a wet sea that came aboard with every opportunity. I realized that it would be getting dark by about 7.30pm, and my plan of an overnight sail were evaporating fast. I just was not ready for another bashing, and started looking at my options. There were a few along that coast, south of San Carlos de la Rapita, but not many had a safe entrance, especially with a south east wind. It was blowing hard onshore, and eventually, I had made a decision, and it was to be a little place called Benicarlo. At the present rate, with the engine running, I could just lay it on port tack, and it was about 14 miles away, so it would be just about dark by the time I got there. I had also decided, that if it looked dodgy getting in, I would give Jackie a quick call, and tack back out to sea, into the safer deeper water. (Not an option that filled me with happiness,but there you go!) Over the next couple of hours, the wind increased, but stayed in the same direction. I could see a big squall gathering on my starboard side, and it seemed to be sucking the wind in too. There was more thunder and lightening, and I have got to say, it all caused me to bring into question what was I doing out there and what on earth was the point of it all. I got on the phone to Jackie, and told her what the score was. I told her it was the end of the trip and I was coming home and that I had had enough!! HAD I HAD ENOUGH? As I was on the phone, it felt as if the boat had luffed, and come to a standstill. Remember, I was below trying to keep the phone dry, (trust me, I have had a lot of phones on boats!), I hurriedly told Jackie the score and not to worry, put the phone back in it’s plastic box, and came up to see what was going on. All of a sudden, the boat heeled alarmingly to port, and the wind totally changed direction by 180 degrees, and came at me at 20 knots plus. I quickly released the main, and off we bowled into the still large seas that had been built up by the south easterly. Suddenly the sea was very confused, but the blessing in disguise, was that I could now lay Benicarlo on a broad reach, and also the entrance would not be a lee shore (what was that about roses?). I let out a massive sigh of relief, despite us taking very big seas right over the boat. I gave her a few pumps to clear the water then picked my moment to open the hatch, and went below to take a close look at the entrance on the plotter, closing the hatch behind me.

In the space of half an hour, it all died down until the wind went completely, and we ended up rounding the breakwater in a glassy sea. It was dark, but calm as I called the marinero on the VHF to get a berth for a couple of nights. His name was Pedro, and he didn’t speak a word of English, but made up for it by bounding round the marina to the side I was about to berth to. And so a peaceful night. I got the pressure cooker back on the stove, did some rice and had a fantastic curry before falling asleep on yet another wet bunk!

Benicarlo, I must say, what a lovely little town. The marina staff were very friendly and Pedro could not do enough for me. Sign language works wonders, and it seems you can get by any problems. That day, I found an internet café, got myself a new gaz bottle and dried out everything on deck. I had decided to stay for two nights and just relax. The weather funnily enough, was fantastic and warm. I went down to the fish market and watched the fishing boats come in and land their catch, and watched with interest as it was all brought, and loaded into lots of little vans and a couple of lorries. There were a couple of women on the dock all wrapped up and sitting on chairs mending nets ready for the next foray into the ocean. I really took a liking to Benicarlo, and it will be a place that I should like to return to sometime, but all too soon, it is time to move on.

I had spent a lot of time in the internet cafés, poring over the weather, and for the next couple of days, it was going to be a northerly maximum 16 knots. Just what the doctor ordered. I went to the local supermercado, stocked up with food and soft drinks, and was determined to get in a decent leg of 36 hours and get some miles down. I left Benicarlo with a superb north westerly breeze, keeping close to the shore, maybe a couple of miles off. I remember thinking once more, this is what people pay thousands of pounds for. With full main, jib and flyer, and travelling along with no heel at about 5 knots, has somebody finally smiled on me and given me a break? I HOPE SO!

BADALONA TO TARRAGONA

Well I had been in Badalona long enough, and I could’ve just put off leaving forever, but it was time to get back on the horse and put my fears to bed,(so to speak,) so I decided to leave on Monday,13th April. The wind forecast was, for up to 15 knots max, (mind you, I have heard that before!)and I guess Tarragona is a good day’s sail at about 50 odd miles.

I togged up early, before dawn in fact. The previous evening I had made sure all was done for a quick getaway. As I nosed out of the marina, I had the mainsail up in no time, and put away the ropes and fenders. The awning was still wet because it had been raining all the previous day in Badalona, so I just rolled it and put it in the cabin, but not in its cover. The breeze was from the land, I would say just north of west, and my plan was to stick with the coast all the way down, one, to keep the waves small, and two, if at any time I got fed up or it picked up dirty, there are a multitude of marinas en route, almost one every 5 miles.

The dawn was breaking as I sailed past Barcelona, and it went through my mind all the people getting up and getting ready to go to work, if they weren’t already on their way. I was about a mile off as I slid past, but decided to head out to the fairway buoy to avoid the multitude of ferries and ships coming in and out of this very busy Spanish port. I went through the anchorage and passed very close to a Turkish ship with a load of dagos hanging over the side waving. I had full main, small jib and flying jib up, with the wind aft of the beam, we were doing six knots, and as I passed, I was sure I could smell a kebab. Shortly after, I hardened up to follow the coast south west and keep to my plan (CLOSE INSHORE). As I came round the point more onto the wind, it seemed to freshen a little, and I got out my windo meter, just to see what it was reading. I had already taken in the flyer, and was surprised to see it reading 23 knots, so with our speed of about 5 knots, it was already 18 knots true. Thoughts began to go through my mind as to where do these guys get there forecasts from? I quickly dispelled my anxious feeling into a cup of tea. I generally make a flask full when I start a trip, and today was no exception. By the time the tea was finished, swiftly followed by another, we were beating up the coast hard on the wind with the lee rail under. I just knew this wasn’t going to last so I thought to be prudent, I would put half a dozen rolls in the main, dead easy to do, just clip on, go to the mast, let off some halyard and roll her up. It went great, and we were still knocking on at 5 knots. Over the next couple of hours we were back to full main with the flying jib set, wind at last, what was forecast. It was also forecast to back this evening, so I was hoping to make Tarragona before that happened. (When I say "back" it means that the wind goes anti-clockwise as it shifts.) Well, the wind was up and down all blooming day, so at times I had the iron horse on. Her name is Beta, and unusually for a horse she is red, but when she gets revved up she develops 20 more horses, she is fab. It's funny, but I only thought about it later during the day, all the key, rev counter and electrics for the engine are in the cockpit, and during the bad storm night, the whole bloody lot was under water for maybe ten minutes until the cockpit drained! I think I will give it all a big WD40 spray RIGHT NOW!

Another annoying thing has happened. The wind vane, Mildred,keeps disconnecting herself and deciding she doesn’t want to play. In fact, she got me downright annoyed when she did it, and Simo then decided to head back to Barcelona without telling me! What’s that all about then? Anyway, I had a good close look, and decided that maybe in the storm something got strained, but I retired Mildred and put on Vince, the electric autopilot, he works better when the engine is on anyway, and I will have a good look at Mildred when we get settled in Tarragona.

Well we’ve done well, it's 3pm and we have about three more hours to go before we'll be safely docked, and I can get some dinner on the go. The wind has by now, backed a little and we are not as free as we were to maintain our course, and not have to reef or roll so near to our destination. I had been keeping an eye on a Latino sail down to leeward, and ahead of me, he seemed to be struggling with the conditions, I mean, even I had full oilies on, and was getting a lot of spay on the boat. As I got closer, he tacked, so he would cross our path and I thought "gawd, I hope you are not in trouble and want a tow". It was the last thing I wanted, anyway he sailed behind me, about 50 yards. I could see that he was much bigger than me, and I don't want to appear rude, but his boat was more tub like in appearance. There were three on board, that I could see, but none of them waved frantically, and I didn’t see a barrel with burning tar on deck, so assumed they were O.K., and on I went.

We finally arrived at 6pm, in a capful of wind, and was grateful to get the sails down, fenders and lines out, and tie up somewhere snug and cosy, call the missus get food and bed. In just that order!

Goodnight

KNOCK DOWN SOUTH OF CABO CREUS

Well, my last post was when I was hove to, about 20 miles south of Cabo Creus and catching little cat naps etc. The wind was fairly screeching in the rigging, and Simo was heeled at such an angle that the leeward gunwale was under water. I had no clue to the wind strength, but felt safe and comfortable in my little cabin. My alarm had just gone off and I lay a few moments (I can't tell you how peaceful it all seemed below, and in a way, I am dreading going up for another look out with driving rain and wind that stings the face, pitch black Ahhhhh! I was just getting out of my bunk when i heard a noise. Instinctively I thought it was a ship nearby as I struggled to stand up to have a look out of the cabin window, I was just getting to the window when there was an almighty bang and the window and side of the boat came to meet me with such massive force. It hit me full in the face, and threw me on my back. In a heartbeat, everything that was on the port side, ended up on the starboard side with the most sickening crash I think I have ever heard. When I had recovered from the shock, I thought I had been hit by a ship, the bang was that loud. I struggled to get up from the bunk, and realized that all the floorboards were up, and all over the place, and there was a load of water swishing around my ankles. I had to get out into the cockpit, to see the ship that had just hit me, I opened the cabin doors and was shocked to see the cockpit full of water and stuff from the lockers floating around in it. "F*****g hell we are sinking", was my first reaction. I had a good look round, but there was no ship in sight, the screeching of the wind and driving rain told me that the wind must probably be a lot more than 40 knots, more like over 50 knots, but I had no clue. I retreated into the cabin to get my oilies and life jacket on, it has a harness attached. I could not believe the floor boards were up, and there was so much water in the boat. My priority was to get out into the cockpit, hook on and get the boat steering dead downwind,(I did not want to get hit again broadside on!) and to get pumping. There was still a lot of stuff floating around in the cockpit from when the lockers had flown open and stuff came out. The drains are quite small, so it was going to take some time to clear. I was concerned that we had sprung a plank or something for so much water to be in the boat. Christ, don't let it all end here, I've only just started! I felt a little alone in the cockpit with the hatch and doors closed and to be honest, I was concerned that another wave would come crashing down. The cockpit cleared after a few minutes, and I kept on pumping by hand until my arm would take no more, all the time keeping Simo headed dead downwind. I then swapped hands and realised it was much harder for me to steer with my left hand in these conditions and keep pumping with my right.

The time of the event was as near as dammit 5 am on Wednesday 8th April. We didn't seem so badly off running with the wind, although we were doing 6 knots generally, and much much faster as we surfed down some huge waves. Even though it was dark, you get a feeling that the waves are quite big, and every now and then you hear the roar of a wave breaking behind you, and you stop pumping and hang on really tight, just in case it should come aboard. I do believe, that if I had been in the cockpit when the wave hit, I would not be here writing this. I realised after I had heard the wave breaking behind me, that that was the noise I had heard in the cabin seconds before I was hit.

After what seemed like an hour, in reality it was probably nothing like it, I felt the pump start to suck air, what a relief, at least I knew I was winning and if we were leaking I could keep up with it, yes, it was sucking air, thank goodness, my arms were killing me. I was also cold and totally soaked though, and was a bit pissed off that I had spent a fortune on some Musto high trousers. Although i had had them for three or four years, i had only worn them a dozen times, and the only benefit they gave me was to stop the wind biting through me, they certainly didn't keep out the water.

I had decided to hand steer until daybreak, probably around 7.30, and then I could get a good look at things, and plan my next move, although I was committed to get to my destination, BADALONA. The coast at this point starts to go south west, and as the wind was coming from the north, I thought it might afford some shelter if I stood in to the coast a bit. I wasn't sure what was more menacing, the waves, or the wind, I guessed the waves, especially after the hit I'd had. Even though I was running with it, I did kind of slant in the direction of the land, and could see the lights of what I thought were Estartit and beyond. Funny, it was looking clearer ahead, and there were some breaks in the cloud where the remains of the moon was shining through. It would not be long now, and gradually the dawn came. It was enough for me to see the state of the sea and all things generally. Simo seemed to be in control of the situation, and I thought it time to put Mildred (the wind vane) into action, to give me a break. I attached the lines, put the vane into gear and just waited for a moment or two, to see if she could cope, but of course she could, and it seemed, a lot better than I had done. The wind had abated quite a bit, but according to my windo meter, it was still a touch over thirty knots true, and I thought it was a walk in the park compared to what I had been through earlier.
I went below to survey the scene, total devastation, the floor boards were all up, and straightaway, I could see the bilges were full of water. Again, I got on the pump, and pumped until it sucked air. It became obvious that the limber holes were blocked. I tried to clear them and hardly succeeded before they blocked again. There is a lesson here!! I had put two jars of chick peas in the bilge, with six plastic cartons of milk, my bilges even for a wooden boat, have never seen water like this, EVER, and what had happened was that the labels had got wet and come off, and were now clogging the small limber holes that allow the water to run down to the pump sucker. NEVER PUT STUFF WITH LABELS ON, IN THE BILGE, EVER, EVER, NO! NO! NO!

I replaced the floor boards, and started to check around. The bunk boards had become dislodged, and every pan and dish that was around the galley area, was now either in the chart table, YES IN, or on top. A china dish had left it's place at waist height on the port side, and ended up smashed at head height on the starboard side, with the remaining pieces lying in the shelf that is a type of handhold. In the chart table also was the remains of a tomato and cheese sandwich that had disintegrated into a load of soggy pieces. Everything was soaked in and around the chart table. All the charts were soaked, books soaked!! Hh my gawd, but it looked like the plotter was still working OK.

My face was sore, and I ached all over, but thought the worst was over, I put the kettle on for some coffee, and decided to go forward to get the vanity mirror to check my face. What I saw up in the bow shocked me. I have two tool boxes that sit in a box, and the vanity mirror is attached to the lid of the toolbox cupboard. The toolboxes were on the floor, and the mirror with it, with a chip put off the corner.
(Does this count as seven years bad luck, or have I come up smelling like a rose again?) For these boxes to come out, meant that we had gone over in the crash beyond the mast being in the water. To get the tool boxes out normally, is a struggle, so the power of what happened was gradually dawning on me, although I hadn't realised it, we had been rolled way beyond 90 degrees. The kettle was whistling, and I went to make some tea, I still didn't feel like anything to eat. I checked the wind, and it was still over thirty knots true, and the little storm jib was rushing us on our way at 6 knots. It seemed like nothing was straining, she was taking it all in her stride.

I made my tea with difficulty, ending up with only half a cup, and slid the hatch open for another look round. The sea was still pretty big, and I noticed that we had two stanchions stoved in on the leeward side, and all the dodgers on that side had been stripped off their lashings, and were flapping free in the breeze. The
dinghy still in its bag, was over the lifelines on the side of the boat. I had noticed it earlier, but was not going to be tempted on deck just yet to haul it inboard. It was not quite dragging in the water, so could sit there for a while. I also noticed that my boat hook had gone, and also three of the dinghy floorboards. I was cheesed off about that, because I had just spent 80 odd euros having new ones made, but what the hell, we had survived, and apart from a few aches and pains, would arrive later that day in Badalona. I thought, why not try out the trisail, so i got it out of its bag and rigged it, and it set perfectly. The funny bit was, I had never before given the trisail a thought, and prior to my departure from Gruissan, had decided to see if it all went up ok. Now we were tramping along the Spanish coast at 6 and 7 knots, and comfortable as the serpentine on a hot summers day. I even found the stomach for a sandwich, my favorite cheese and tomato.

It blew all the way to Badalona, and I arrived at 4 pm that Wednesday afternoon. My thoughts turned to the Vendee Globe singlehanders, who go round the world, my goodness they are brave. I am now chilling in Badalona, and although I do want to continue, it will be a little more leisurely, and if you want to stay with me, I am sure we will have some fun along the way. If I have not bored you, and you have got to the end of this story, please bear in mind some people who are less fortunate in life, like the people who have cancer, and you will see on my site, I have a Just Giving page for Cancer Research. If you can afford it, donate a few bob, you know it makes sense. I don't have any targets, and just thought it would be nice to try and raise a few bob whilst enjoying myself,hope you feel the same.

Mickey Boy