No peace and quiet! The night after 37 hours at sea was anything but restful. The waves raised and lowered the boat all night, which I actually quite like, but the noise that comes with it is exhausting and I couldn't find my earplugs. So the night was not restful and we had to leave.
Onwards: We weigh anchor at 6.30 a.m., then along the coast, past Tarragona, which looks much nicer from the sea than on land, but is not really romantic with its huge transhipment harbour. The wind is difficult, sometimes strong at 25 knots, then nothing. I take the shift with little wind, the engine purrs. It's called motor sailing. Then the wind changes direction and gets stronger. I dare to open the sails, reduce the engine and sail! We end up travelling through the water at 9.2 knots. Unfortunately, the wind drops again and the engine takes us part of the way again.
Thank you Mum for reminding me in your comment that there are sailors in my family after all, so it must be time for a seafarer 😊! That might also explain why I don't get seasick.
Christine and her dad Werner sailed with me around Usedom when things weren't going so well in my life. I still remember how much I calmed down. Their message that an old sailing saying goes, "The first time you think about reefing, do it!" came just as we were thinking about going into the first reef. I'm really pleased that you like my honest messages, thanks for the comments <3.
For many, cruising is a dream that only some (can) fulfil. For me, it was never actually a dream, but an offer that came into my life with my great love. As a teenager, I did my inland licence on the Havel in a 420 dinghy with my friend Anja. That was great! Then my children got into sailing and I was just the mum who accompanied the kids to the regatta. I actually found the whole "hightitei" around sailing exhausting, I don't feel at home in marinas either. But lying at anchor here now, very close to the element of water, is enchanting. I am grateful that I found the courage to get on board.
After 12 hours of travelling, we arrived in the Ebro Delta pretty exhausted. The weather guru was forecasting a storm from the west. We hid deep in an inlet. It was quiet here and the landscape was characterised by beautiful lagoons. We were surrounded by a picturesque sunset. Martin pulled out his guitar and I got out the equipment for the upcoming sound recordings. This is what I imagined travelling at sea would be like.
The night was ok until I suddenly noticed the approaching storm at 12.00 am. Then a huge thunderstorm in the north-east! What a spectacle of nature, I'm glad I wasn't caught up in it. The wind picked up until morning and the waves got stronger. Sleeping was so-so. Today we wanted to take a day off, Martin had work to do and then we wanted to explore the surrounding area a bit. But things turned out differently (except for the work).
First we realised that our anemometer was no longer working. Martin stuck his head deep into the electronics, made updates, lost screws in the hull of the boat and found them again, the fault could not be found, should we go up the mast? The wind was too strong. During this action we realised that there was salt water in the bilge of the centre hull, where did that come from? Then there were still barely understandable displays from our solar system. I tested the water that we had produced using a watermaker. At 440 ppm and 7.5 pH, it's okay, but it could be better. I read the operating instructions. The trampoline that was stretched between the hulls in the stern so that not so much water gets onto our "terrace" also broke during the trip yesterday. Water is strong. We need a snack again! I want to cook and realise that the pressure cooker isn't working either. But I managed to fix that, yeah! We ended up with delicious aubergine in tomato sauce with rice. The aubergine is one of three that survived to this point, the other two unfortunately didn't survive the heat.
At 5.00 p.m. we ventured out on the dingy, why didn't it work last time? Well, it needs petrol and the tank only holds 1.5 litres. We explored the neighbourhood. I hadn't prepared myself for the area because of all the repairs. But now I was amazed by the biodiversity, the birds and the sound of the landscape. What a special landscape area. I do some research and what can I say, we are in the middle of the Terres de l'Ebre biosphere reserve. It is one of the most important wetlands in the western Mediterranean. A mosaic of lagoons, dunes, salt marshes and rice fields harbours an extraordinary biodiversity. Over 300 bird species - including flamingos and herons - make it a central stop on the migration route between Africa and Europe. In the middle of it all we find a mussel farm. Fishermen pull their traps out of the water. And small aeroplanes land right next to the lagoon and, as I researched later, next to the core zone. It's a shame that we don't have more time to look around here. I am amazed by the lack of information about the biosphere reserve. You can't really find much information online and only in a language other than Catalan thanks to Google Translate.
Now it's time for a good night's sleep. Tomorrow we have to make another long voyage to get to Gibraltar before the storm, all without a wind indicator. Marin has put up flags to make it easier to recognise the apparent wind. I'm going to become a sea bear.
