We departed Cadiz at 0900 hours for the trip to Barbate, remaining just outside the dredged channel, until we cleared the island. The weather was warm but overcast and there was a bank of sea fret on the horizon. There was no wind at all but a little bit of swell, which rocked the boat from side to side. The rocking eased as we headed in a more southerly direction and moved towards the misty horizon. At times, we could see rain falling on the land in the distance. We had a refreshing mizzle, from time to time and it was comfortable without the sun beating down on us. We were staying close to the coast today, due to the continuing threat of Orca attacks. The latest intel showed five attacks during August in the area south of Barbate but none since July in the area we were sailing today. We passed by beautiful golden beaches and pretty, local holiday resorts, which were far less busy than those near the major resorts. About four miles out from Cabo Trafalgar, the sun broke through, shining like a beacon on the ligthouse in the distance. With the sea as flat as a pancake and no wind to speak of, we opted to cut through the narrow inside passage rather than head out the mile and a half to clear the reef. It is always windier and rougher around a headland and today the wind topped out at around 10 knots, with that and the tide creating little overfalls as we cut through the narrow gap in the reef. It was neither uncomfortable or threatening and was over in minutes and we emerged again into flat calm water quite suddenly. It was great to pass through such a historic place at sea. Sarah spotted a flying fish and then Peter another, the first ones of this trip. I am happy to say they were the only wildlife we encountered today and we arrived at Barbate unscathed by Orca, at around 1530. We relaxed in the cockpit for a while before checking in and decided to sample the cartons of wine that Pete had picked up the day before for 89 cents a piece. Both white and red were foul and ended up in the bin. We needed more bottled water so strolled into town to buy some, along with some decent wine. Once showered and fed, the lightweights decided an early night was in order, so here I am writing the blog while they are snoring gently in their bunks. Night All!

Next morning, we were up and off just before 9am and heading into the Orca danger zone. We decided to stick close to the coast, rather than cut across to the headland where we would enter the Strait of Gibraltar. We put the genoa up but the offshore wind soon died and it was back to the engine for 3 hours. The journey was uneventful and we passed by Tarifa, known for its strong winds, still without enough wind to sail and doing up to 8 knots with the engine on and the current carrying us. There is a constant current from the Atlantic into the Med, to replace the water which evaporates due to the heat in the Med and the current overcomes the tide for much of the time, making it far easier to travel east then west. Tarifa Radio kept putting out a relayed pan pan, regarding a small boat with a sole person on board, that had left the Spanish coast and was missing. We kept an eye out but spotted nobody who looked to be drifting. We eventually had some wind, directly behind us, allowing us to sail through the Strait and into Gibraltar Bay. The Rock was a sight to behold. The wind died here so we dropped the sail and put the engine back on. There were many ships at anchor, lots of pleasure boats and small ferries darting about, making it a very busy place. The wind picked up strongly but we remained under engine, as we hadn't far to go to Alcaidesa marina, where we would be berthing for the night. We weren't allowed into Gibraltar, even in the event of a berth being available, due to Covid restrictions. We could enter only if we had been in Spain for the last 10 days but we had crossed from Portugal only 7 days prior. In the bay, we were joined by a pod of dolphins, playing in our bow wave. Pete took Sarah up to the bow to watch them. The sea had developed quite a swell and was a bit confused, so Sarah remained at the bow, gripping the forestay until we made it into the marina entrance. She also spotted a sun fish, which everyone saw but me. Having checked in at the reception berth, we had to spring off, as the wind was blowing strongly and pinning us against the wall. It was going to be interesting getting into the berth. Pete reversed in, so the wind would blow the bow round and we moored up without any problems. We had completed the Orca run without being attacked! There were lots of British yachts moored in Alcaidesa (La Linea), including several other Westerlys. We also spotted Blue Swan, owned by a Dutch couple whom we had met back in Ayamonte. We had a great view of the Rock of Gibraltar and could see the aeroplanes taxi-ing down the runway and taking off.

Following a much needed shower, we had a drink on board and got into conversation with two English gents on a nearby yacht. Paul (Breen-Turner), who owns the boat, is a sports commentator for Gibraltar TV, commentating on football, boxing and women's tennis and has been out in Spain for 30 years. Robin is a RYA sailing instructor in Gibraltar. We were invited on board for a beer and the two guys gave us a lot of information on where to go and not to go on our way from Gib, through the Costa Del Sol. They also recommended a tapas bar for this evening. Robin said he would show us the way on his way home. In the end he joined us for dinner, followed by Paul 20 minutes later. The food was excellent - iberico ham, oxtail croquetas, venison in red wine, salt and pepper steak, prawn crackers, to mention a few dishes. The food for 6 people and 3 bottles of good rioja was €140, a steal. That was followed by tiramsu, coffee and shots, at an Italian restaurant where they also knew the proprietor. Robin headed home and we all went back to Paul's boat for a final drink, before heading to bed at 0130 hours. Luckily we weren't due to leave until 2pm the next day.