Spain

A few days ago I reached the Mediterranean with a rather beautiful sail through the Straits. There were many dolphins, and a group of these provided memories that will endure for they suggested a route - that I was happy to follow - through the shipping. Did they really guide me? Who knows? The dolphins certainly seek out craft, and I can't help but think they were happy to be with a wind-powered human-piloted craft. I am certain that the final flourish of a jump, right next to me, was a farewell.

Bulk update!

A tough decision whether to attempt to get round Cape Finisterre yesterday. In favour of going: wind guaranteed, swell not huge, Cape approx 15nm away - doesn't sound far. In favour of choosing to wait: no real wind arriving until the afternoon due to become too strong later, forecast direction a headwind, swell quite big enough. Shouldn't influence decision but does: more and bigger swell on the way.

In the end I decided to head out and see. If, by 13:00, still more than 10nm to go - then head back.

Safe run to Muxia yesterday - 20nm, wind direction very good and in that context swell perfectly deal-able with.

Today back to service as normal: chunky swell. In the context of a very flaky wind forecast, and angle that will require gybing downwind to Cabo Finisterre, however much I want today to be suitable - and getting round the Cape, and as a result past the Costa de Muerte, is a big prize - I can't persuade myself that it is.

Getting behind on my thankyous again. Just do it Dunnett. First a proper thank you to Jorge from Windsurf Oza, and an arrival pic from last week or whenever it was I took up residence.

Apologies for a few days absent. Am on a deficit again. But having just caught up on an email, I realised it explained what I wanted to say in this update. So, with apologies to the original recipient...

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Hello XXXXXX and how nice to receive your message.

Rounding Estaca de Bares, Spain's most northerly point. A fishing boat gave me an encouraging blast of their fog horn in the lee of the cape. Then the rain came and obscured all company and sight of land. I sailed out for sea room, until the shadow of a eastbound ship came into view, then tacked for the eventual shelter of the port of Cariño, tucked in behind the next point. Despite the grimy weather, conditions were good and fast.

Spoiler Alert - this clip is SLOW TV!

I am super excited to offer you my contribution to the genre of Slow TV.

Inspired by Norwegian TV and their 134 hour live broadcast of a Hurtigruten ship sailing the whole Bergen to Kirkenes route.

You might get an idea of how this sort of sailing is kind of... meditative. The scenery is (somewhere) between Puerto de Vega, Asturias and Ribadeo, Galicia.

Turn the sound up for gurgling noises.

Menorca is a good place to recharge batteries. I've been continuing a very simple life: some exercise, some work, occasional human contact. The borderline hermit life is restful. The shops are a long enough cycle away to encourage self sufficiency with what you have. The coastal paths are wild and empty. It's an island...

I'd been hoping to sail continuously - that is whenever possible - and just doggedly push on through winter. But that isn't how it's worked out.

Once onto the North Spanish coast progress really slowed. A combination of factors caused that: