The second leg of the adventure begins with Paul Jr. chilling in the sunny cockpit, smiling in the knowledge that he is a an RYA Day Skipper (Dazed Kipper?) and declining the offer to be skipper of the day!  Paul Sr. is, sadly, on his way home.  Thanks Paul for your company and dry humour, safe trip and hope to see you again soon.

We are on our way to Palma, Mallorca via Cadiz, Cape Trafalgar, Ceuta in North Africa, Gibraltar and a few stops in the Balearics.  Yesterday Portugal, today Spain, tomorrow Africa and a full English breakfast in a British enclave Monday – international travel but not as you know it!  And all at an average of 8 miles per hour!

Hello Laura, Jon and Gill.  We’ll do a short hop to Vilamoura today for you to get your sea legs OK?  And that’s what it was, an idyllic downwind cruise with the beautiful red cruising chute billowing gently in the light breeze, only to be snuffed as we hardened up for the entrance to the marina for a farewell ale with Paul Jr., A search then ensued for a decent meal among the Chinese, Indian and anglicised Portuguese restaurants of the predominantly British holiday resort.  Man U. 6 – 1 on aggregate on every screen for a square mile assures a constant flow of lager loutishness from the boys behaving badly on their golf tours.  Sorry, I forgot the Scots – YES!  Celtic have equalised.

Serious distance to cover Thursday, so an early start sees the red chute hoisted high, a local headland rounded and a course set for Cadiz, the oldest city in Spain, built in 1100 BC.  Laura, Gill and Tereza have planned our stopovers and it looks as if they have picked well.  As night falls we select a different and more conservative sail plan and move markedly out of the new arrivals’ comfort zone – sailing blind under the stars, life jacketed and tethered into the cockpit.  A goodnight from me, the skipper, completes the challenge!  All survived needless to say and as dawn broke we slid silently into Puerto Americas in the heart of Cadiz for a few hours sleep and a day wandering the labyrinthine cobbled street of the ancient city, buzzing with life, mothers and children in push chairs competing with taxis in a game of chicken that is clearly part of daily life here.  Tapas, beers, ice creams, window shopping, a visit to the amazing central market resplendent with freshly caught fish and freshly harvested fruit and veg.  More tapas, more beer and home to Oboe to reflect on the day and days to come.

Follow our progress here:

http://blog.mailasail.com/oboe, where you can see our daily progress on Google Earth.  Email us at: oboe {CHANGE TO AT} mailasail {DOT} com any time you like.  Phone us on +881 631 669 194 and we’ll pick up via Iridium satellite.

Fair winds to you all.

Nigel

Paul

Paul

Tereza

Josef