21_03_26

The downwind sailing continues.

We find ships of every shape and size in the Gibraltar straits.

Some ships are prettier examples than others!

The sun rises over the rock.

You want oil. Come to Gibraltar.

There is life in the Mediterranean.

Looking up. The miles slip by.

Looking back. The miles slip by.

The sun is quickly replaced by the moon.

We didn’t expect to see snow.

The downwind sailing continues.

Another day ends.

The glassy sea puts out the flame of the sun.

The motorathon begins.

Our first calm Mediterranean anchorage.

Time to get some rest.

Ruffian sits in no tide or current.

We’re all alone.

There is no way any poor Tuna can escape that.

Empanada’s. Like Cornish pasties, just lacking filling and flavour.

We replenish the fuel stocks.

That’ll be why we filter our diesel.

We have visitors.

Our visitors leave happy and smiling.

The sun sets behind another range of mountains.

Is that a magical floating chapel I see?

We gain some altitude.

Easy walking in the shade.

Fiona ponders her way down.

The end is in sight.

Just a little bit more sketchy scrambling.

Layer upon layer of hill.

Another day, another bay.

We have all the toys.

Lovely water.