09/16/2009, Calpe, Spain

We left Melilla on Monday afternoon, after a pleasant two-day stay. It is Spanish the way Gibraltar is British, and is surrounded by Morocco. Recent history brought about the building of a 33 million Euro barrier wall to keep the two separate. It had a spectacular fortress and the most efficient police force imaginable.

We celebrated Mon's birthday with a meal out in one of the marina restaurants, having watched the Italian Grand Prix in a tapas bar in the afternoon on Sunday.

Anyway we set off around 3pm, and immediately started a watch system of 3 hours on, 6 off. Keith took the first watch alone, then Ju and Andy, followed by me and Mon. The trip took until today, Wednesday, and was 277 nautical miles of wind, no wind, thunder, lightning, sun, a waterspout, and lots of shipping, as we were heading north west across the main shipping lanes east from Gibraltar into the Med.

We got into the rhythm of sleep and wakefulness better on the second day than the first.

Dawn this morning brought the sight of the Costa Blanca, including Benidorm, on our starboard bow. We came into Calpe, after crossing the Greenwich meridian, refuelled and berthed stern-to to a mooring in the very expensive but well-ordered marina. We are therefore due south of London! As the only nights we have paid for up till now were very cheap, one or two expensive nights sort of even themselves out.

We will set off for Ibiza/Formentera on Friday morning. More anon

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09/14/2009, Melilla

Instant Decision, the Jeanneau 54 DS, tied up to a Fishing Protection vessel in the Moroccan port of El Jebha. We arrived there, crewing on her with skipper Keith Crawford, partner Mon and son-in-law Andy, after a ten-hour sail from Gibraltar, on a very lumpy sea but in bright sunshine. We had started off at 5.45am local time on Wednesday the 9th, so left Gib in the dark, all peeling our eyes for moving shipping and buoys and lighthouses in the dark. By the time light arrived we were off Ceuta, and the shipping soon disappeared behind us as we followed down the Moroccan coast.

We had a local police officer visit soon after arriving, and he took all our details including passports. We were all so tired we went to bed by nine oclock, still struggling with the time difference. Morocco runs on GMT, and our watches were set on Portuguese, SPanish and Gibraltar time, so every time calculation was difficult. Believe me!

Jimmy, the harbourmaster, came knocking after that, and when I eventually got up I asked him to come back tomorrow, which he did.

On Thursday we first sorted out a problem with Andy's eye by going up to the local hospital to get immediate attention, at no cost!!!!! Then four of us, minus Andy, set off in the taxi from hell with Nasser, the taxi driver who spoke no language any of us did, for the remote inland hill town of Chefchouan, 140 kilometres away over awful roads for the first 55 km, then OK ones for the rest. The taxi had no window winders, so Nasser came round with a little handle and opened or closed them as conditions demanded. The speedo and tank gauge didn't work, and the transmission grunged in the shaft all the way of our 2 and a half hour journey there and four hour journey back!

The town was spectacular and worth the journey, which in itself had taken us through the Rif mountains. Built in the fifteenth century, only 4 Europeans actually visited it between 1492 and 1920, when the Spaniards entered the town. It was a stronghold of Islam, with no unbelievers permitted to enter. The Souk was full of people, and as it was Ramadan the food stalls were interesting. People were buying food like it was going out of style, but none would eat until after dark. Our guide, Nasser, found us a restaurant where we had a great lunch, while he sat by and politely refused even a drink of water.

After lunch we had a look at the museum and the medina, then walked out along the river bank where there was an old-fashioned washhouse, woth women rubbing away at clothes to clean them in the flowing cold water, while their menfolk stood by watching from the nearby bridge.

We only saw one complete burkah, although most women kept their hair covered and wore long trousers, coats or leggings.

The town had a strange feature in that it was painted blue, up as far as a person can reach!

Our journey back was delayed on four counts: heavy rain, dense peasoup fog on the mountaintops where the roads were, multiple stops by the driver to talk to various unknown persons and exchange items with them - enough said - and lastly the roads had deteriorated further due to the rain, and the potholes were larger and more numerous.

Brilliant day all round, though. We were privileged to observe another culture without western intrusions, and we saw a good chunk of inland Morocco and its amazing mountains. Cactus grew in plenty by the roads and they produced prickly pears, which lived up to their name!

Back to EL Jebha, the most unspoilt of towns. No commercialism, totally undeveloped so far. All this may change when the planned new road reaches the town..

Friday 11 September

We left El Jebha for a 40 mile sail to Al Hoceima, which Keith wanted to visit. The wind was good as far as it went, but we ran out of room against a headland, and had to tack 12 miles out to sea before attempting to tack to clear the headland. Suddenly the wind dropped and we motored to Al Hoceima, where the smell of seagull poo on the dock and the fierce officials demanding paperwork made us decide to leave again early the next morning. On the 12th we sailed and motorsailed to Melilla, a lovely port of which mnore later.

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09/04/2009, Lagos

The highlight of this period between sailing was a visit from Morag, our very good friend from Scotland. This is a picture of her and Ju at the Saturday fruit and vegetable market here.

We are off on Monday by bus to Seville and Gibraltar, to crew on a 54 footer to Morocco and the Balearics. Watch this space for further reports!

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