Gibraltar to Barbate
15th July

We needn't have worried about the anchor dragging last night.  The anchor is fouled by a substantial steel hauser, and it takes some effort to free it. Back in Estepona they were forecasting a easterly F4-5 at Tarifa today, but since it's been blowing a F5 all night in Gibraltar we can expect it to be stronger.  

Tarifa is at the western end of the Strait of Gibraltar, and is known as the wind capital of Europe. Conventional wisdom is that if it's blowing an easterly F5 in Gibraltar, you can expect a near gale at Tarifa because the wind funnels through the Strait. We don't receive the scheduled Tarifa weather report at 06.15, so try to call up Tarifa traffic on the VHF, without success.  We decide to set out anyway, as the wind's forecast to increase tomorrow.  After careful study of the tidal atlas, we aim to be off Tarifa at 10.00 to make the most of the favourable tide and to give us a bit of margin for delay.  The last thing we want is the tide turning against us there. It's still dark at our planned departure time of 06.30, so we wait half an hour until it gets a bit lighter.  We put out the trusty yankee, and with the donk on to keep up our speed, get to Punta Carnero in a little over an hour.  It's blowing F5 right behind us and the tide is just turning in our favour with a following swell.

We're too preoccupied to take a picture of Tarifa - here it is in calmer weather.

The radio is tuned to the Today programme which is piped in via Gibraltar. It is a surreal experience to listen to Jim Naughtie interviewing David Cameron while we hand steer down the Strait in hazy sunshine. By the time we're halfway down it's time to reef the yankee, a little to start with, then down to the second reefing point. We clip on when the following swell gets bigger and the bow pitches down into each trough ahead. We're doing 7 knots. 2 miles to go to Tarifa. We're the only sailing boat out today - there's a surprise. It is blowing a steady 30 knots apparent. 'It's bound to get easier as we get round the point,' we reassure ourselves nervously.  We are forced to get closer to the point than we would like to carry the yankee on the starbord tack as for a short while the wind veers to our port quarter. With relief we round Tarifa at 10.08 and turn northwest towards Barbate. The wind follows us round and the tide is still with us. 

Unfortunately the beastly easterly hasn't finished with us yet.  The sea is flatter around the corner, and the boat is surprisingly light to steer, but we are buffeted by 40+ knot gusts off the land. One or two reach 47 knots, which make the backstays shudder. We hastily roll up all but the tiniest scrap of yankee and batten down for the rest of the way.  The wind stays a steady 30-35 knots apparent all the way to Punta Caraminal and beyond.  Just when we think we've left the worst of the gusts behind, it pipes up again at Zaharra. Ah, so that's why they put all those wind turbines there. Actually down below, you wouldn't know it was blowing hard at all.  She's comfortable enough to make tea and heat some part-cooked bread for an early lunch.  Close to Barbate, it takes two attempts to roll up the yankee as it's so tightly wound round the forestay we've run out of furling line.  The tack is still sticking out when we've finished, but it will have to do for now. Barbate harbour is open to the southeast, which is going to make for an difficult landing. We reject the possibility of berthing downwind on the marina reception pontoon, and turn into the marina basin, aiming for one of the large berths under the wall, which will be head to wind. Luckily several happen to be vacant, and apart from being blown sideways when we turn in, we come alongside without incident.   

While Leighton goes ashore for the formalities, I flop with exhaustion. The wind is still whistling overhead, rattling the halyards. The only place of silence is inside the shower block. Releasing the tension of the last seven hours takes a long time. 

Later in the afternoon, with Leighton asleep, a ketch comes to a perfect gliding halt on the reception pontoon.  Intrigued to see who else is mad enough to be out on a day like today, I go and have a look.  To my surprise and delight, it is Donald and Margaret in Re Shuanta. They have also come from Gibraltar, apparently leaving a couple of hours behind us. They also did not expect the conditions today, despite getting a more up to date forecast than us.  They look about as tired as us, and as relieved to be out of it.  We're pleased to see them, as since Vilamoura Leighton has been trying to link up over the HF without success. Over a drink later, we re-live the experience together and can make more light of it. 

The only casualty of the gale appears to be the ensign, which has flogged its end into shreds. Once repaired, it is much shorter than it was. Makarma is a solid boat in a blow!

Visitors on the Feast of the Virgin Carmen
16th July
Ralph and Sue Bedrock are old friends of Leighton's who have a holiday apartment inland from Puerto Banus. Since we missed them when we were in the Med, Ralph has promised to come and visit us in Barbate instead, bringing his grand-daughter Izzy for lunch.  

It is windy again today, but not as strong as yesterday. Donil and Margaret head on up the coast to an anchorage in Cadiz Bay. Our visitors give us a solid reason to stay in harbour another day.  While Leighton and Ralph reminisce over old times, I try and keep Izzy amused. Boats with their many hiding places and cubby holes are a source of endless fascination for a boisterous four year old. We launch the rubber dinghy, and take Izzy for a spin in it. She is very proud to be wearing a real lifejacket! She pens a lovely drawing in our visitors book before they set off home. 

Today is also a public holiday for the blessing of the Virgin Carmen on the fishing fleet.   We first came across the Virgin Carmen up in the Rias of Galicia in 2006, when it was impossible to get a good night's sleep because of the noisy celebrations in every fishing community.  In honour of the saint's day, all the shops are closed here today. From what we can make out, 'El Carmelo' is the patron saint of fishermen, and indeed the inspiration for the Carmelite nuns. She is considered to be the 'guiding star' for seamen, and she guides them safely home through storms. On 16th July each year, fishing boats gather to be blessed by her statue as it processes through the fleet. 

The wind has dropped and there is a definite holiday atmosphere tonight, helped by the fact that many boats in the marina are dressed overall with flags. So too are the fishing boats and even the local lifeboat. Disco music has started up on a fishing boat across the basin, and partygoers stream onboard.  After supper a number of local boats leave the marina, and we go ashore to see what's going on.  To our surprise, a large crowd of people have set up tables and chairs to eat on the marina wall facing the fishing port and everyone's in a party mood. Clearly they are waiting for something to happen. As the light fades, a parade of boats begins to make its way around the harbour, amid much hooting and shouting.  The party boat from across the basin is the centre of attention, and we conclude that it is carrying the statue of the Virgin Carmen. A British yacht sails into the melee, doubtless surprised by the reception committee.  When they are moored up, we go and say hello.  It is Steve and June on Piper, who kindly offer us a drink.  Before long the sky lights up with a spectacular fireworks display, and sure enough, the people partying on the marina wall have a grandstand view.