After the arduous journey from Tenerife to Gib Chris said he never wanted to sail again, but as the memory faded he was itching to set sail so we've started to progress into the Med. We've left behind the huge supertankers anchored off Gib and made our way along the Southern Spanish coast which was shrouded by mist listening to American warships and aircraft carriers on channel 16. Unfortunately there was very little wind so we had to motor much of the way but we spotted a sunfish and some dolphins and the sea was glassy calm which helped my wobbly sea legs acclimatise after more than three months of no sailing.

The depth sounder got to 0.1m in the entrance to the harbour – the lowest we've ever seen it, even with the knowledge we've got a safety margin on the reading it was still heart in the mouth time. Escapona's not the prettiest of Spanish towns from the little we've seen but it's a long way from being the ugliest. A long wait in an Italian restaurant lead us to a fabulous Thai meal and another episode of 24 before hitting the sack.

This morning I ache from head to toe, I'd forgotten how physical sailing can be, but we're out to sea again in about an hour to continue westward...

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