Major Milestones this Week!

What an eventful week this has been.  I will start with a list of the major ones and then will try and describe the events around them.

1. Lithium install is complete
2. We left Palma
3. We covered 750 miles in 4 consecutive days
4. We got an amazing new (to us) toy
5. We were not attacked by Orcas in the Gibraltar strait (just missed!!)
6. We are out of the Mediterranean
7. We are in Africa
8. We have all simultaneously been puking in the cockpit

Our lithium install is complete!  What a gamechanger this is for us.  We have been able to run the dishwasher, the washing machine, the water maker, our bow thruster, and do all of our cooking on our induction hob with no need to run the generator.  In fact, we have not run the generator once since we left Palma.  We also motored a TON, so this is not entirely representative of the capacity of our new batteries but it will be so lovely to not have to run the generator for 2 hrs/day while on anchor.  In fact, we likely will only need to run it once every 3 days on anchor!

We have finally left Palma (otherwise known as “Mini Cooper” capital).  After 6 weeks in Mallorca, it was long past time to move on.  My preternatural itch to move on had definitely established itself by this point.  The weather offered a small glimpse of a window to sail to Ibiza but admittedly, it was going to be gnarly!  We left the marina on Thursday afternoon and motor sailed our way upwind in 30-40 knots with 3-4 metre seas to a reasonably protected anchorage around the corner.  This allowed us the opportunity to ensure that all our systems were in working order and that we could reacquaint ourselves with our sea legs which had been on vacation for quite some time.  Needless to say, no one enjoyed that two hour pounding session.  We had a long chat with the boys that night that our only possible predicted weather window to start heading West was the next day.  It was going to be a 12-hr sail to Formentera upwind in heavy air and confused seas.  It was going to suck, but we just had to commit and get it done.

The next morning Jay and I pulled anchor at 5 am and headed out of the protected anchorage and into the swell.  The previous night the wind had absolutely nuked at 30-50 knots out of the West.  The seas were big and as always in the med, the period was painfully short.  The wind had started to veer and lighten and this was our go time.  I’m not going to lie; I was not eager to head out in this.  Jay asked me just before we lost the protection of the shore, which you could not see as it was still pitch black out, how I was doing and my response was simply, “Sh*t ton terrified”.

Needless to say, we successfully completed the mission.  We pounded upwind in 22-27 knots of breeze with 3 metres of confused (washing machine) seas.  Elation handled it like a champ and I was reminded of just how much I truly love this boat who safely cared for me and my whole family as we were incapacitated from sea sickness.

James was the first one to be taken out.  He ran up the companionway at 7 am simply yelling, “Bucket!”  I succumbed shortly thereafter.  I tend to do very well in the cockpit but, I had to go below to get James’ PFD, spare buckets, and some blankets.  The effect of the washing machine sensation below deck was almost instantaneous.  Evan and Jay followed suit very soon after.  It was during some simultaneous emesis that I realized we really need more puke buckets on the boat.  It is now added to the list!

The benefit of the awful conditions was that there was no other boat traffic to be seen.  This was necessary as we were all pretty useless and entirely reliant on autopilot and only the occasional glance at the chart plotter and horizon.  We were all very grateful to finally make it into a swell protected anchorage and crash for the night.  Our original plan was to slowly pick our way from here down the southern coast of Spain in between weather windows in order to get to Gibraltar and from there await a weather window to cross to the Canary Islands.  However, the updated weather models early the next morning made the case for simply trying to make as much distance as possible before a giant front blows in from the West for what appears to be days and days.  Thus, at 7 am the next morning, we were pulling anchor with the intent to sail/motor sail/motor our way as far West as possible.

The conditions and sea state had vastly improved and everyone started to feel much better and we had firmly re established our sea legs.  We had a lovely upwind sail to the shoreline and were able to enjoy a stunning full harvest moon and partial lunar eclipse as we motored our way along the coast.

I took over watch from Jay at 4:00 in the morning just East of Cartagena.  During night watches we run our radar continuously as many fishing boats don’t use their AIS and therefore are not identifiable on our chart plotter.  I am pretty religious about keeping a watch not just of our instruments but also a direct visual in all directions during night shifts.  We also have our AIS and lights on at night.  So, when we went through a protected fish farm where fishing is not allowed, you can imagine my shock when I suddenly had 2 bright flashlights turn towards me 10 metres off my port bow!  These guys were on a small, open, inflatable rib with a net in the water to another rib 300 metres South of us.  My Spanish is getting better and better these days, but I still could not make out the glutinous slew of words coming out of their mouths.  As a result of this, I didn’t actually need any morning coffee for the day.  (We are calling this near miss #1)

Our target this morning was to stop at a marina in Cartagena.  This was to serve two purposes.  One, we were going to need some more fuel.  Two, we were looking at a Tiwal 3 that was being sold on the used market for a phenomenal price.  A Tiwal 3 is an inflatable sailing dinghy that packs away into 2 large duffel bags.  When assembled it offers us a fun little boat that all of us can use to sail around in when we get to anchorages.  We have been looking at them for quite some time but with a hefty price tag, we just could not commit.  It is extremely rare for these to come up for sale second hand and this one was just one year old and still under warranty.

Needless to say, we saw it, we loved it, we bought it.  The couple that we bought it from were a treat.  They are in their 70s and live on a 26-foot boat with their chihuahua.  They plan to sail it out of the med, up the Atlantic coast and into the Bay of Biscay to access the Canal de Midi and travel inland via canals.  This is a serious feat!  They also offered to give me a ride to the local grocery store to do some last-minute provisioning of Halloween treats for the boys since it looks like Halloween will be done on passage.  The car that they have is a 35-year-old Renault that was an absolute hoot to ride in!  While I headed off, the boys found a large group of kids that are staying at the marina and they had a full-on Lego play session in the clubhouse.  I really wish that we’d had more time to explore this area and spend time meeting the families at the marina, but alas, we must move on. 

As we went to start the engine to pull out of the marina, the engine fan wouldn’t run.  The last time this happened, we found ourselves stuck in Barcelona for 5 days waiting for parts.  Jay and I looked at each other wondering whether we should just stay here and hang out for that period of time we felt we missed.  Fortunately, the engineering superstar Jay, attacked the problem and with an electrical wiring patch job, we were up and running 30 minutes later.  (This is near miss #2)

We headed west out of the bay under motor as the wind was light and directly on our nose.  A large fog patch rolled into the bay as we proceeded.  We turned on our running lights, our radar, and set our fog horn to sound every 2 minutes and on we continued.  Until that is we suddenly heard violent banging along both sides of the hull and the boat quickly decelerated.  We had caught a large fishing net marker whose light buoy was not operational.  Jay had immediately turned off the propeller when the sound began and so we fortunately did not wrap the prop though it was jammed around the front of the keel.  This was a good learning experience for the boys to see how we handle these issues.  Jay and I calmly and proficiently got to action.  Jay suited up and jumped in the water.  When it was determined that we could not easily pull the line off the keel, we cut the line and then retied the marker and buoys back together and continued on our way.  (This was near miss #3 – bad things only come in 3’s, right?)

The next 30 hours were very unremarkable.  We continued to motor along the coast.  We diligently watched the weather updates and were delighted to find that we had made it far enough west to not be at risk of one of the smaller systems that could have made us take pause.  Onwards to Gibraltar!  We knew we were getting close to the strait of Gibraltar as we would get this series of tidal currents and short, choppy waves that timed to the highwater times. 

The strait of Gibraltar is the narrow inlet from the Atlantic Ocean to the Mediterranean Sea.  Essentially the Atlantic Ocean with it’s massive swell and low-pressure systems bottlenecks into this area and supplies/maintains the water of the entire mediterranean.  It is complicated to navigate this area at the best of times as you need to be sure that you have a safe weather window with favorable winds.  You have to time the water level so you aren’t trying to fight your way against up to 6 knots of current and sharp waves.  You also have to avoid all of the cargo ships that heavily utilize this passage in both directions at all hours of the day.  Sounds tricky, right?

Let me add one more issue to these infamous waters… Orcas!  For the past 2 years there have been a few pods of Orcas that have begun to wreak havoc on sailboats in this area.  No one really knows why, but it would seem that a very intentional game has started whereby they target all sorts of sailboats and directly focus on damaging the rudder which is the boat’s steering system. This results in the boats becoming disabled and there have even been a few cases of boats that have ultimately sunk as a result.  This summer was riddled with almost daily reports of attacks and rudder damage.  We met with an Amel 55 (our boat model) in our anchorage outside Palma just before starting our passage that had been disabled by an orca attack earlier this summer.

We were well aware of these concerns.  There are many recommendations of how to manage these interactions from 1) stop and sit it out 2) reverse quickly so your prop may deter them 3) dump your blackwater tanks 4) drop large amounts of sand off the stern of the boat 5) bang a long metal pole that sits in the water with a hammer 6) mount an expensive (ineffective) pinger to deter them 7) drop firework bangers in the water (illegal).  As in medicine, the longer the list of possible solutions, the less likely that any of them work. 

The only recommendation that seems to have aided in avoidance is to hug the coast so close that you are never in water deeper than 20 metres.  Again, this is easier said than done because the coast is strewn with tuna fishing nets, weather and current can make this untenable, and in some areas on the Moroccan coast the depth drops off so quickly from shore that it’s simply impossible.

I had been closely watching the orca sighting and encounter reports and pages for the past month.  The orcas typically migrate out of the mediterranean and head north up the Portuguese coast at the end of the summer coinciding with the mass tuna migration.  They typically don’t return until late in the winter.  Since the beginning of September there had been no encounters, no attacks, and no noted sightings in the strait.  Having seen this, I made the executive decision not to buy the overpriced and illegal waterproof bangers when we were in Palma thinking that we were simply out of season for these attacks.

Imagine then, the massive clunk that was my heart hitting the floor during my watch at 11:30 pm, 12 nautical miles from the Gibraltar point when I received a notification of an orca attack a few hours earlier just East of the point.  WTF!  This was an attack inside the med (almost unheard of), outside of the migratory season, and really damn close to our position and trajectory.  I pulled down our long aluminum rescue pole, grabbed our hammer, and woke Jay up to talk about whether to alter course or continue.

We made the quick call to alter our course directly south to Ceuta and skip Gibraltar entirely.  This would take us further from the point of interaction.  However, it had us crossing the eastern side of the strait just before highwater with unfavorable current and a lot of cargo traffic to maneuver around in the dark.  As a result of this and our fear of orcas, we also decided to significantly increase our motoring speed and RPMs.  In this stretch now, there truly are monsters of the deep.

At 3 am we safely made our way into the Ceuta “Hercules Marina” and tied up to the fuel dock with the plan being that we would fuel up in the morning when the station opened, check out of the country, and get underway by 10:30 to take advantage of outflowing current.  We also decided not to tell the boys about the orca attack and claim that currents had made us detour to Ceuta.

The knowledge did not stay secret for long.  The next morning Jay took the boys for a walk to the harbour office and police station to check out of Spain.  They ended up passing a catamaran that had some professional divers checking the rudder.  Jay stopped to chat and discovered that they had been bumped earlier that morning only 2 miles west of Ceuta and had to detour back.  The cat was out of the bag for the boys and Jay’s and my stress level just hit Mach 9.  During fuelling we pondered back and forth whether to go today or wait it out.  I chose to go stating that we don’t gain any assurances by waiting a day and we have a great downwind weather window.

Out we headed.  This was a no fuss, no muss passage.  We were going to push the engine, motor sail when possible, hug the coast as much as humanly possible and keep a tight lookout.  James was positioned on port side to look for fishing buoys and markers.  Evan was mounted on starboard to search for orcas off the stern and I was overseeing lookout everywhere while Jay steered the boat.  We had 15-20 knots of breeze behind us and anywhere from 0.7-4.5 knots of current flowing with us.  We averaged 9-11 knots of speed over ground for the 35 nm stretch.  We were not stopping or slowing for anything.  Not the fisherman that wanted to sell us their large fresh catch of tuna, not even the police rib that motored up to us to remind us to change our courtesy flag.  At one point we did have to detour into slightly deeper water when the military base informed us that we were too close and they wanted us to alter course.  Jay’s response was a polite, “We are trying to stay close to shore because of recent orca encounters over the past day, how far out do you want us?”  The response was thankfully not far enough to put us deeper than 35 metres.  On we flew.  We did not see any orcas!  We rounded the final cardinal in the bay outside of Tangier and finally took a deep breath.  We turned off the engine and enjoyed a brief sail downwind with genoa alone.  Fortunately, this bay is in shallow water as we were abruptly informed of just how damn lucky we had been!

A Mayday call came through for Grazie Mamma, a boat that we had seen in the Ceuta marina that morning and had left shortly after us and was about 30 minutes behind us.  They had been attacked by orcas off of one of the two points that were impossible to stay in less than 20 metres of water.  Their rudder was disabled and they had no steering.  We would find out the following day that they had been so badly damaged that the boat actually sank!!  All crew members were quickly rescued by SAR prior to her sinking.

We can only imagine how horrible it must have been for the crew.  This lifestyle can be difficult enough with all the risks related to weather, seas, obstructions, navigation, and safety.  The orcas have added an additional element of risk and fear.  For now, we are extremely thankful and grateful to have been spared.

We are now in Africa.  A new country, a new continent, and a new body of water.  We will likely be here for a week before our weather window allows us to partake in the next 600 nm passage to the Canary Islands.  We plan to sleep, celebrate, and have a brief inland exploration of this beautiful country over that time.

Fair winds.