WE HAVE LEFT GIBRALTAR!

I know it bagan to seem impossible, but we have left Gibraltar, and because it is a long time since we were able to access wifi, we are now in Ibiza, so there will be lots to catch up on. But as usual, time is a bit short, so I will begin backwards as usual.
We came into Ibiza Harbour as an unscheduled stop, and have been here for 6 days now, held up for one reason or another. We had been having a stressfree existence for too many days I suppose, and I was getting to at last write a blog that had no traumas, but that was not to be. We have had a little sailing and a fair bit of motoring, so we decided the other day to make a halt to the proceedings and anchor up until the wind came back again - we were on our way to Mallorca at the time. So we put into this little bay, put the anchor down and then prepared to get the sails sorted before the next offing. But the pretty sail was not going to behave and come down - the halyard had chafed at the very top of the mast and would not run through the roller. Big swear words and a quick think. The anchorage was not suitable for the coming wind, and going up the mast there was not an option either. It was 5 pm, and just enough time to back track to Ibiza before the light went. So a quick coffee and Kit Kat and off we go. Get in just in time and are given a berth as the light went down. Tomorrow was another day, as it took 2 hours to sort the lines out and settle the boat and bed time called.
Next day we find that we are next to a boat load of what dave calls our "eco warriors" a group of Spaniards we met in Cadiz, who are going about doing some survey work in the Med. Very kindly one of the lads went up the mast for us - it takes me all day to winch Dave up, with risk of instant collapse form over work, but with a spritely lad not a problem. He was able to sort the problem out and pretty sail now has are-furbished halyard and is ready to fly again. The problem was a chafe by another halyard that had crossed it - we will be keeping an eagle eye out for this again I can tell you. So we then think we can be off, until I get the weather forecast and can't believe what is coming. By now we have befriended a family 2 boats down, and much discussion of the weather with them and the French next door, we realise we are in for a real pasting so best we stay. The night of the 12th the wind started to blow up, not too bad, and we had doubled the warps and hauled us tighter at the stern , so went to bed to sit it out. Not to be - by 11pm all hell was raging and everyone was up on deck. This placid little bay was a maelstrom, water coming in torrents from the sky like a Hammer horror film and the waves were whipped up and coming over the back of the boat. To make matters worse our front sail decided to go loose in the middle and cracked about like a mad thing. 2 of our friend lurched on board to help us get it sorted, despite hardly being able to see or stand on the deck. And it continued to blow, and not only blow consistently over 50 mph - it actually regularly gusted over 60 mph - but the wind changed direction right round the clock. No sleep for anyone till after 4 am - my birthday! - when it seemed to settle from one direction and steady at about 30 mph. So we all fell into bed fully dressed. Morning, and it was abating and one could hardly believe the madness of the night. We hope to be getting a video clip from our friend which I will post if it comes. So my birthday was spent sorting us out - we had bits of rope everywhere tying things down, and sorting out the sail, which was thankfully undamaged. In the marina around us some had not done so well and there were a number of shredded sails hanging forlornly from their rigging. We were chatting yesterday and the locals have never seen anything as bad in living memory. The reason was an intense low pressure system which was directly above us - chances of that are no very great at all. so all is now calm and we are getting ready to go anchor before we set off again.
Dave is in his usual hurry to be gone, so this is a shortie, but there will be lots more in a couple of days from Mallorca.
We are the white on with the rusty snot marks down the back end! Eco-warriors are on the right and our English friends next to them. French in the catamaran on our left.

GIBRALTAR 4

Today it is only 24 degrees and life has become a little more bearable. In fact I think some of the old brain cells are beginning to revive and come back into service. Still waiting for the radar, but the magic sunhat for the boat is nearly finished - we are in great danger of almost looking posh.
so today it is a story day, so you can get a feel for how the days just flow by.

‘Dave’
‘yes, Jen’
‘The toilet is not working’
‘What do you mean. It was working this morning’
‘But it isn’t now’
‘Nightmare, Jen’
‘Best look at it, Dave’
‘But that means taking it all to bits and everything and I hate toilets’Biggest of sighs from himself. I know this means spanners and screw drivers, so out with the boxes.

So there we are, having to strip the bathroom down, empty all the cupboards and dismantle the box around the pump and then get into the pump. And it is the smallest room in the house too. You can see where the pump is, where the handle sticks out above the loo. The access is not from the front where the handle is, but at the side, just to be even more awkward.
It is late afternoon, hot and sticky and the odour once the pump is exposed is somewhat on the unpleasant side. So take of the blanking piece of wood, off with the pump cap and all is revealed – it is completely clogged with limescale. And there is now water and stuff everywhere. Definitely a rubber glove job. The pump is really hard to get out, and when it does come out into the bucket my heart sinks, as it is now hours if scrape and de-scale. Being watery it is woman’s work, so I pour in any noxious substance that might remove limescale and set to work. Dave cleans up the worst of the wet in the bathroom. At last some hours later it seems clean and then it is the job of putting it back, which is even harder than getting it out. By now it is 10pm and we have not had a meal and are hot, crabby and smelly. Finally it is back together again and off for a trial run. Horror, it still leaks a bit and all the fiddling in the world is not going to make it right.
‘Could cry, Jen’
‘I know. But it is not too bad and will do for overnight’
‘Hmmmmmm. That’s true. OK another go tomorrow. I’ll get the spare one out’
‘What do you want for tea?’
‘Can’t be bothered’
So we eat a bowl of fruit and cream, have a shower and off to bed to face another day.

AM
Dave is upside down under the bunk rootling through all his treasures and finally emerging with his prize. Uh oh.
‘Jen’
‘Yes Dave’
‘That pump I thought was new,...’
‘Yes,Dave’
‘It isn’t’
‘Why is it under the bunk then’
‘Hmmmmm. Must be OK’
‘It’s not one of your might be useful but not really working treasures is it?’
‘Don’t know. We could give it a go.’
So the whole procedure is repeated, pump out, more water everywhere, and now it's lunch time. Being wiser today we break for food before starting the procedure over again, putting in the ‘new' pump. Same struggle and teddy throwing, then the test run is ready. This time the leak is worse than ever and water is cascading into the shower tray. Dave is beside himself as he cannot work out why it isn’t working, but all the tightening and shifting of nuts and bolts is futile. By now it is late again. So it is off with this one and back with the other one which has had even more cleaning and new valves put in. Hours later – still leaking but usable for the night. By now I have even more fizzing witches cauldron of pump cleaning stuff.

‘Dave’
‘Yes. Jen’
‘First thing tomorrow we are buying a brand new pump’
‘But I don’t know why they won’t work and a new one costs money.’
‘Dave, they are knackered and old and leaking and we are not going to go through this again’
‘Guess not. OK new pump’
‘Jen’
‘Yes Dave’
‘If the pump is scaled up maybe the pipe is too. Perhaps I should get pipe as well.’
‘Good idea’
So another bowl of fruit and cream and off to bed.

AM
Off to the chandler and back with lovely new pump and coils of loo pipe. Should be simple to pull out the old pipe and run the new, but sod’s law says that because it is all hot and humid and the loo is a small space, it is going to take lots of pulling and shoving from both of us. The discharge pipe runs from thee loo up to the pump then into the upper cupboard, across to the other side and down through holes cut for it to under the hand basin, under the floor and through to the discharge sea cock. The new pipe does not want to be confined I think but eventually we win and several hours later we have all new piping, and a branny new pump and this test run is magic – until a bit later there is a telltale trickle of blue loo water. Dave is about to throw himself overboard till he remembers that maybe he hadn’t tightened one of the nuts up. This is not too difficult to do, just messy as it lets more water out. But, wonder of wonders, we now have a non-leaking and functioning loo. And it only took 3 days!

‘Jen’
‘Yes. Dave’
‘Where are you going with those buckets of pumps?’
‘To the bin’
‘But Jen! !!!!! They are might be useful, they are my treasures!!!!!!!!’
‘Dave, they don’t work, won’t work and are no longer treasures. I will buy you a second branny new pump to put under the bunk as a real treasure for you’.
Big sigh, and despite his lovely new working pump I still think he misses his treasures.

GIBRALTAR 3

2 Days in a row- wow!!
Well have done the washing and lowered the tone of the neighbourhood somewhat, but needs must as they say. Washing means over the sink with the fan going full blast, then into the buckets to go up the deck and onto the line.
Dave reckons it is the most expensive clothesline in Gib as it is usually used for the colourful sail and is special kevlar stuff. But works well indeed.
Maybe I should tell you about our neighbourhood. When we were in Tobermory we were considered a big yacht, especially for 2 old codgers to manage, but here we are a pip squeak. We are surrounded by very large yachts and motor boats.
In the picture you can see little old us, the white one with the washing, between the big blue power boat (recently bought for £11 million), and the big blue yacht in front. Big yacht is over twice as long and has everything you can think of including air conditioning and a microwave - the only 2 things I could envy perhaps in the heat. Behind the yacht you can see the back end of the big American power boat that is taller than our mast - look for the people on the side deck to get a sense of size. The second story has a full gym set and you can see them pedalling away and doing treadmill things. Top story has a pool. Dave reckons it is as big as a frigate. And there are more of the same around the corner and more come in and out every day. So much money seems obscene to me - the cost of the American boat is thought to be in the region of $1 billion, £500 million pounds. And then there is the cost of running them and keeping the crew. Surely there must be a better thing they could do with all this excessive wealth. I might have mentioned it before, but when we arrived the boat behind is was a vast yacht, and this was the smallest of 8 boats the owner had dotted around the Mediterranean, all with crews on board, in case he felt like getting away at any time. So we put a bit of reality into the scene, especially with our eccentric array of covers until we get the sunshade, and our constant work in progress. I think we are the happiest too, we are always having a laugh, but the folk of the big boats always seem so glum.
We are not so fond of our other neighbours either.
Every night, especially over the weekends, we are blasted from the casino with the most evil disco music imaginable played at maximum volume until 7 am. Added to this is the drunken shouting that seems to be the obligatory accompaniment and you can imagine we are somewhat sleep deprived. You can't shut the hatches entirely, even with the fans, and it is a bit miserable. You can see from the pikkie we are just across the way. All the boats complain, but nothing happens. Bring on the mail and we are out to peace and quiet.

End of moans - from now on there are only good things to write about!!

GIBRALTAR 2

Well, despite my best intentions it has been ages since I promised to be a little more regular with the writing. I blame the weather, as I am sure my brain goes into melt down here when the temperature goes over 30 and the humidity over 90%. It becomes too hard to move, and far too hard to think. But it is possible to sit in front of all the fans you can muster and chill out. Most of the busy work has to be over by 10am, so housekeeping (yes, I do do some!) and shopping and laundry are all early morning jobs. But it is now September, and, wonder of wonders, the days are definitely getting a bit cooler – it doesn’t get to 28 or 29 till after lunch and the nights are now about 24 -25 which is becoming a little more sane. Still high humidity though, over 80% today. I will finish the moan by letting you all in on the wonderful life of the disco – it throbs on loudly and headbangingly inanely till 7am Thursday to Monday. Oh woe, can’t shut the hatches, turn the fan up till it’s whirring like a helicopter waiting for lift off, and hope zzzzzs will come. Then stand by for the drunken shouting – so the two of us are wandering around like the two golden oldies you all think we are doing hot drinks and loo runs like Wal and Amy in the olden days. So sad in two such youngsters – sigh.
So we are still here. Why? You might well ask.
We are having a problem getting mail. It is a problem all those living on Gibraltar have, the mail is dire. It can take 2 days for a letter or 4 weeks, for no particular reason, and parcels are worse. We received have received mail posted 3 weeks previous, and this arrived after some posted after the first lot had been sent. So we are now down to the wait for 1 more parcel. This we decided we ought to have as, after lots of talking back and forwards, it came about that we are going to be the proud possessors of a radar. We have tried to keep things as simple as possible and have managed so far without one, but since the technology is now available for boats our size, it seems stupid not to have the benefit for the once or twice in a life time when it can be an essential safety tool. So the platform is all ready for it, all we need is the box. Once the box arrives it is still not simple. What you get is a card in the post telling you to go to the parcel office. So you tramp your way over there and queue up, the parcel is retrieved and then inspected by the man from customs who is based there. It was OK with the books, he was not interested in those, but we had had 3 months of prescriptions for the two of us forwarded, a small trolley load really, and these all had to be tipped out onto the counter and each box inspected and accounted for. By the end of the exercise I think everyone watching was wondering how 2 such old crocks could dare to set foot out of the house, far less take off in a boat. Dave went over the other day with another lot of cards and came back saying he had to go to the customs depot as the parcels had been considered taxable. So it was passport and ship’s papers and off he trudged across the runway to the border, about a mile or so. I thought he had been put in a cell or deported as he did not return for ages, but he had managed to retrieve 2 rather battered parcels. Just as well he had gone, as the run around he had had would have had me causing an international incident. But I have my replacement mini-iron and we have Terry the Tiller number 2. Why it is all so chaotic no one seems to know, except that it no longer comes by air for some reason and it is thought it gets held up in Spain – but then everything here is Spain’s fault, right or wrong! Having got the mini iron it is too hot to use it, but I gaze at it fondly and remember that it is supposed to get cooler sometime.
Apart from waiting for mail, we are still waiting for the sunshade. We had made such good arrangements we thought and the steel work was done as promised, but the canvas work is another matter as the original lass has let us down badly and now decided to pull out. I was frothing at the mouth as we could have been out of here. However, a little silver lining appeared when a young man put his head under the sheet and asked if we wanted some canvas work done. It transpires that we are not the only ones being given the run around, and this lad’s father has worked on the boats here for 20 odd years and the son has been setting up a business in Malaga and this includes a young man who is excellent with cloth and so it goes. The bimini story will soon follow.

GIBRALTAR

I know it has been a while since the last blog, but we have not been idle, tha is for sure. We had planned to come in to Gibraltar to have some steel work done so we can have a bimini (sunshade) so duly turned up on time. Dave first came here in 1964 when he was a young lad in the Navy, and after that on many more occasions. The two of us were last here 16 years ago when we were bringing Spirit home to the UK. So it was with a measure of anticipation, that Dave especially had, that we began the motor up the Bay, dodging all the ships at anchor as well as those on the move and the odd high speed ferry. In to the marina and finally alongside. This was a Saturday and so we went out to find the church for Mass the next day and then the supermarket. All I had been hearing from himself was that we could go to Morrisons. So of we trundled into the afternoon heat. Up the street, around the corner, under the archway, more up the street until we came to a wedding which found us the church. Next was further up the street and Marks and Spencers came into view. And then Mothercare, and then not a lot.
'I am sure it is over this way ' says Dave
'Shall we ask?' says I
'I know where I'm going' says Dave, 'It'll be just down this way'
Trudge, trudge, steps, street, steps
'Are you sure it's this way?'
'It used to be'.
'Oh'
Jen is now very hot. So next man passing gets accosted. Yup, the supermarket has moved and we are going the wrong way. Where is it? Back that way where the flats are - the blocks of flats almost on the horizon. (Bit of exaggeration, but you get the picture.)
Trudge trudge and finally Morrisons comes into view. Straight in to the coffee shop and sink into a chair. I'm sure everyone could hear the barking from our feet. We looked around and it was really weird - Morrisons in Gibraltar is the exact clone of the one we used to go to in Fort William. Even the coffee cups are the same.The only real difference was the small bar and fruit machines in the corner of the coffee shop for chaps waiting for the ladies to do the shopping. So we loaded up with just enough for the day and set off for the boat - except we were not sure of that way either. Made it back and flopped and decided to look at the map we had been given - we had actually gone miles out of our way but now knew the short cut.
Sunday we went to Mass at the cathedral which is really lovely and has electric fans down the aisles - guess where I sat, not quite on top of one, but almost! Then icecream and coffee on the way home. Tomorrow was going to be a big day as Metal Mickey was coming. And so it all began. We had organised for the mail to come here as well and went in hope to the office to collect it - nada (nothing). So now we had the eternal wait for the steel work to arrive and the post. Not to mention the lady for the canvas work. It has been so frustrating - the metal work was done reasonably quickly considering the chap was away for a week, the mail has taken over a month and we are still waiting for some, and the canvas work is not going to happen as there is no way we are waiting till mid September.
You might guess that this is not the best of places to be, and in that you would be right
Gibraltar is a rock with dense population around the base and the Gib we knew has vanished. When we were here before it was a thriving port with all the amenities for fixing boats you could think of, but now most of this has gone and has been replaced with modern high rise flats. The area where the docks were has been filled in and built on and the whole of the area around the marina is one big succession of bars and a casino and a few trendy shops. There is still one chandlery with some bits, but there was only one guy doing steel - hence our captivity - and one lady doing canvas who was not interested in us, hence no canvas. The bars are not the nice ones like in Spain, but the worst of British overseas pubs - loud, grubby and all selling full english greasies. In this heat that is the last thing you want. I give exception to the nice ice cream shop- Kate eat your heart out as the ice cream is to die for. The noise at night is awful and there is no getting away from it. Disco music comes out loud and clear, throbbing away until 6 am. It is too hot to shut the boat up, we just have to put up with it. And the drunken shouting as well. Why is it that the Brits are so awful overseas? even when they are living here. The shops further up town are all UK high street too, and fail to excite the interest, it is such a come down after Spain. It is also very hot, over 30 degrees each day and this week we have had 38.5 and 33+, and that means I can only keep the cabin at about 5 degrees cooler - and it is humid, over 70% every day. So Dave has been up town getting fans - we now have 4 in total and would be lost without them. We have finally got some of the mail we were expecting and have now only 2 parcels outstanding - then we are off!
All time has not been wasted however, and we have been productive in doing jobs about the boat, learning more Spanish and chilling out as best we can. We go out and about in the early mornings when it is a bit cooler to do the shopping - the way to Morrisons is only 10 minutes if you go the right way!
Internet access has been very fraught. There is only one provider here and the service is overloaded and not well run, so we go days at a time when we get no access then days when all is OK. Thank goodness for steam driven technology of the radio link. So I will blog as regularly as I can with daily snippets of what we are up to now that you have the over view. It is not all gloom and doom!
I leave you with a picture of our neighbour, the runway, which is only a couple of hundred yards away. This was taken from the boat. You could believe that you could reach out and touch the planes as they come in. There are about 4 planes in and out a day, so it is not bad at all. In fact give me a runway instead of a casino any day!

TARIFA

Sadly we had to leave Cadiz and make our way towards Gibraltar. The idea was to go to Tarifa as a day trip and then mosey into Gib the next day. So off we sailed and eventually got to where we were going to anchor up. And glad we were to get there too, as Terry decided he had had enough of steering the boat and left us to it. We tried and tried to coax him into life, but to no avail. Tarifa is on the point on the map pointing to Morocco, and is the closest you get to Africa. It was weird seeing land on the starboard (Right hand) side and realising it was another continent. And then there were the ships, an endless line of large freighters and tankers going along the shipping lanes. We turned around the point and headed up to the anchorage where we were confronted with what seemed like chaos in action. There were a couple of boats at anchor, but the harbour was full of boats ranging from canoes to dinghies, to fishing boats and speed boats, all careering around. All of them were full of people in bikinis and swimmers, packed in like sardines, laughing and calling out. There were a couple being towed around on bananaas and hamburgers, others on water skis, people swimming, others jumping in or getting out, picked up by whatever boat was passing. It was bedlam. Somehow in the middle of all this, along with the huge ferry going by, we managed to get an anchor down without coming into contact with anyone. The beach was chock a block full of people and sun umbrellas, and there was a floating bouncy castle thing as well. Welcome to Tarifa feria day! We watched the antics for hours - it was only towards sunset thet things quiestened down, and everyone obviously had loads of fun. The ambulance boat and the police boat came along to say hello and welcome - I can see why they needed to be there. Meanwhile the Tarifa -Tangier ferries came and went - they hooted loudly and then assumed boats would get out of their way. Below is the pictue we had of the ferry from our back door, which gives you an idea of the size and closeness. (Pictures are arranged back to front to keep you on your toes!)



A quiet night, brekkie and a leisurely start towards Gibraltar, saying goodbye to Tarifa as we went. We had the wind and tide with us and scooshed along at a great rate of knots, even reached 10 knots. We may return for a day trip to visit the town, which the guide book says is very old and historical. It is also very popular; a ferry goes to Tangier about every 45 minutes, and these are big ferries at that. I had no idea that the crossing would be popular enough to sustain this every day. I will have to learn more about the Moroccan connection in Gibraltar. will keep you posted.

CADIZ

Sailing across the bay to Cadiz made us very excited, for as we approached we could see it was going to be a very special place. The old town clustered on the headland near the castle and the dome of the cathedral shone gold in the sunlight. The marina is at the entrance to the main harbour, before you get to the town, and we pulled in and made ourselves at home. The marina is towards the top of the first picture - hidden behind the thin brown wall aticking out towards the passing ferry.

The trip onto town was by taxi, and it was worth every euro as we went around the town by ways we couldn't have walked, and fell in love with it all. The streets are all cobbled and narrow, no footpaths, and full of millions of little shops selling all sorts. My biggest regret is not havong had the time to spend days cruising around them - preferably without the foot tapping shadow! But we had made another deadline in Gibraltar for the steel work on the boat. However, we had a couple of good walkabouts and found treasures at every turn.
Our visit to the cathedral left us really thoughtful. The building is on the seafront is so vast - we walked all around looking for the entrance, which we found after we had found a number of huge boarded up doors. The place is far bigger than St Paul's, and is made out of some kind of whitish sand stone which is gradually crumbling away. (It is the building under the gold dome in the photos). Inside you had to pay - the first time for a church for us. It became apparent that it is not really used as a church much. There is a small area in the very centre where there are a few rows of seats and an altar with the Blessed Sacrament which is gilded and colourful and beautiful in its way, but the rest of the vast area is bare stone floors and pillars and all around the edge are about two dozen small chapels with large figures of saints, most of which are rather obscure to us, and all very dark and heavy. The ambience is like looking through a mist at everything as the entire building inside is covered with fine white netting stretching across the high ceilings and down the columns which catches the debris falling off the flaking sandstone. We went down into the crypt (included in the price of the ticket!) to an even more eccentric space of low vaulted ceilings and a network of side chapels, more saints on the walls and dark oil paintings of unknown chaps beside them. Numerous marble plaques to commemorate those buried there, most likely bishops and priests from ages past. I did not have the camera when we were there - sorry.
Our next adventure was back to see another of the churches in the town. I managed to get directions from the girl in reception and she pointed out on the map the 'most beautiful church in Cadiz'. So the taxi took us down even more narrow streets and then came to a stop and the cab driver pointed up a narrower street and there at the end we could see a church. So off we set.
You could see this pretty little church down the end, and on the walls between the restaurants and shops lining the street were tiled pictures concerning Jesus and Our Lady. These are common in Spain, and occur on lots of buildongs, and like here, all had fresh fowers on them. One example.

As we got even closer we could see that the little steeple and the roof was also covered in tiles withe the M for Mary picked out - the church was the church of Our Lady of the Palms
Inside the church was a jewel, and obviously much loved and very much visited - not by sightseers, but by the local people. The main altar with the tabernacle was surmounted by the famous stautue of the Virgin of the Palms - I was not able to find out what the full significance was. Underneath her feet and above the tabernacle were 2 cherubs playing - delightful.

To the side was the Blessed Saceament chapel, and on the floor of the sanctuary were baskets where people had put packets of food as offerings, and on the wall were glass cases with miniature hands and feet and babies and all sorts of everyday things which i presume had been left as a sign that a prayer had been answered or was being asked.

The station sof the Cross were all tiles - tiles and tile patterns are everywhere, and in the corridor leading to the rectory were more tile patterns. I feel a quilt coming upon me!
Back at the marina we were joined alongside by a humungous catamaran with a couple and two little girls on board aged 2 and 4. They were the cutest things out. We were truly dwarfed by the boat though, it loomed above and behind us. They were a lovely couple from Germany, spoke impeccable Engish, and were nice neighbours. The little girls had the run of the deck which was all netted in and the netting between the catamaran hulls at the front was a perfect trampoline for them. And there was room for a big paddle pool as well. The whole thing was like a house on floats. Looking out our back end we could see the docks and the ferries going back and forwards across the bay. The bay is so big the only sensible way for folk to get to Cadiz from the north was by ferry. The cranes were everywhere and the ones below took my fancy as they looked like huge birds, especially at night. Thought Sean might like these.
It was also time to do the washing. No machine on board, not like the next door neighbours, only machine is 2 paws in yellow gloves! You can also see the outside office, not that we had much luck with wifi here.