25 August 2013 – 26 August 2013

 

Well, the wind didn’t help us and in the meantime G&G had been on the phone to say that they were going to be in Spain for a day longer, just round the corner from where we were, in Horradada.  We decided to travel through the night.

 

We had to slow ourselves down a bit in the flat calm, hovering between motoring (which is usually most efficient at around 6kn) and floundering in zero wind.

 

Thunder was in the air and S saw a forked lightning strike on one of the radio towers on land, so we were happy to be heading in where there were other masts.

 

We arrived at Torreviejo in time for breakfast, anchored outside the marina in the sheltered outer harbour, and ferried G&G and the kids out to the boat in the dinghy.  There was just time for coffee and jam and bread and a chat, before they had to leave to catch their plane.  Moored against the outer Marina pontoon was a massive aluminium sloop, I would guess at 120ft, with a rotating rig built like the Forth road bridge.  Very purposeful.

 

The plan, as it had seemed to be for days now, was to head for Ibiza, in a second overnight leg.  However the weather was still an issue and we identified a few ports of refuge on the mainland in case the thunder and lightning was still an issue or the wind was not right. 

 

We passed Alicante and carried on up the coast.

 

We tried to fathom the weather and gave ourselves about an hour heading offshore as evening fell.  However, as the skies darkened the lightning flashes in the clouds became either stronger or just more noticeable.  The wind increased ahead of rain squalls and although it would probably have been fine, we did not want to head out into a potential thunder storm at night.  So about we went and headed in to the first of our ports of refuge, Villa Joyosa.

 

By this time it was pitch black and Janice went forward to look out for fishing buoys and nets.  We wanted to get in before the lightning got closer.  We anchored outside the Marina.  There was a swell running and it was a bit rock and rolly.  The kedge anchor was deployed to hold us into the swell rather than across it.  It was not a perfect solution and we sat anchor watches as we dragged a little at first.

 

At first light S and I untangled the kedge from the main anchor chain.  We had to brush aside a visit from the local black suited and armed Coastguard in their large throbbing cruiser.  They indicated that we had to move further off the bathing beach.  S managed to restrain himself from waiving the Red Ensign as an indication that we were English and did not understand them, whilst I made throat cutting gestures to indicate that we were not able to move until we had sorted out our anchors.  Given the trouble in Gibraltar flag waiving and throat cutting could easily have been taken in completely the wrong way, so we were probably lucky that they had better things to do and they just shrugged and headed out to sea.

 

We sorted ourselves out and set off slightly bleary eyed to see what the weather would give us next.