To Moraira with Rob

Sat 14 Sep 2013 12:38
We left Mascarat, gently motor sailing in light airs on a silk smooth sea.
Heat haze shimmering over the coast five miles to starboard, there was no
rush. Berth booked in now familiar Alicante Marina, my flight next day,
twelve hundred revs. all that was needed, with our mainsail set to maintain
a five knot glide through these mercurial seas. Below its silvered ceiling
swarms of tobacco brown, jelly fish, like stalkless fungi, short beaded
fronds dangle beneath their oversized, mushroom cup bodies. Amongst their
number an occasional larger, ephemerous, white and purple cousin is seen on
its peristaltic way, trailing, doubtless noxiously armed tentacles. Above
languorous flocks of herring gulls, silent for once, ride atop the surface
tense sheen. Unconcerned by the slice of our bow, laconically refusing to
take to the air, unseen webbing paddled just a little faster to create a
pattern of v wakes behind their seemingly motionless bodies.
We arrive and tidily moor, fore and aft, spring lines set, sheets all
hanked, headsails covered, topsides hosed, shore power on, we quietly
perform a now familiar routine. On recommendation from a passing British
yacht crew we dine in town. A simple repast of lambs sweet breads fried with
garlic, spring onions and fine asparagus tips, a dish of small green
peppers, well-seasoned and roasted whole with a bottle of local tempranillo
completing the meal.
My return to the U.K. and a hectic few of days on the business front,
evenings with family and friends helping to ease the stress. Back aboard
Pamarzi by weekend, Rob arrives Monday evening and Tuesday sees us casting
off for Moraira, our port of departure for the voyage to Ibiza.