Unfortunately Morocco put pay to such hedonistic romance and we have the memory of rotting fish, drains and polluted harbour water. Reflective of our berthing locations rather than wider Morocco of course - the smell from the spice stalls in the Medinas was divine. Ironically it was also in Morocco that we rediscovered the sensuous pleasure of eating food with the fingers.

Our berth in Tanger was just outside the fishing quays through which you had to walk to get across to the city and the Medina. The smells were interesting but there were also several small quayside fish restaurants at which families were eating and we were taken with the fact that families appeared to eat there before all the fishing boats went out. We thought it would be good to eat there ourselves but from our genteel western perspective wondered if we would survive the experience. So we took courage in both hands coming back from a day of sightseeing, declined a couple of empty looking places, turned a corner to look behind the buildings we were walking past and there was a whole street of tables and chairs with tiny kitchens serving seafood to loads of people. This was in complete contrast to the street cafes in town where no-one seemed to be eating in the evenings (other than us). The menu was brilliant - there wasn’t one and you just had the standard fish meal on offer. This consisted of a huge dish of prawns followed by an even huger dish of fried whole fish, calamari and so on. The fish bones, shells and so forth were dropped onto the paper table cloth. At least by the locals. Being well brought up English people we put our fish remains onto the prawn dish - only to have them tipped onto the paper and folded up for disposal ahead of the next customer. All eaten with the fingers - which is probably the only way you can eat such dishes - it was superb and the best meal experience of the trip. When you had finished eating you went across to a cart with a large barrel of water, paid a dirham or two for someone to squirt soap into your hand and away you went.

If in my next life I come back as a fish I would like it to be a grey mullet. Every harbour we have been in has been absolutely teeming with them. You see big shoals swimming around together skimming the surface of the water and every time you step down onto the pontoon from the boat there is a splash as they dart away. To see the shoals in Moroccan harbours tells you that they must be completely inedible and judging from what the fish are eating you can understand why. It is, though, the most wonderful survival technique. You may have gathered that we have been shocked by the amount of fish that is being hoovered out of the sea. Every harbour we visit is landing fish day and night from local waters and at sea we see organised fishing on an industrial scale. Anecdotally we know that fish populations are being decimated the world over and yet it appears they are still there to be caught for your sensuous fried supper. For how long I don’t know but what I do hope is that the inedible grey mullet will be splashing around in the derelict fishing harbours long after everything else has been eaten.

Possibly linked to the fishing (but with no hard evidence for this of course) is the fact that since Cadiz we have not seen a single dolphin, never mind a whale or any other marine mammal. The Straights of Gibraltar are supposed to be teeming with dolphins and they “always” accompany boats into Tangier. As it happens we have never seen a whale apart from a pair of pilot whales I saw in the English Channel many years ago but certainly nothing in the 13 years since Annie and I have been sailing together. Last night we chose a local restaurant for supper (bit of a culture shock this as we are now in Lanzarote which is purpose built holiday sun for the Brits) and sat on his own at the next table was a chap we had met in the Spanish Rias. He is sailing a Contessa 32 “Pisces” and, it transpires, taking part in the ARC rally to St Lucia. He joined us for supper and described his route down which was via Madeira rather than Morocco. Just off Madeira the boat appeared to go aground as if in soft mud which was a bit alarming as he thought they had 10,000 metres of water underneath. His crew came rushing up from below also in the belief they had gone aground at which point a huge fluke rose out of the water alongside the boat and drenched the cockpit in water. The whale then dived to the relief of those on the Contessa who thought they might be under attack. Unfortunately it seems it was the other way around as there was blood in the water where the whale had been. Fingers crossed for the whale and it would be nice just to see one without sailing into it.

On the way out of Porto we saw a triangular greeny grey fin sticking out of the water. Probably no more than a few inches in height but big enough to be seen and might have been a small shark. Then the dolphins just off Cadiz. And the grey mullet of course but that is it other than seabirds - the same seabirds we have seen since Biscay, some small unidentified ones, the odd gannet, egrets and seagulls.