Sail Pandora

If you enjoy looking up at the clouds as I do, you are in good company as there is a society for people like us, the Cloud Appreciation Society  I became a member in 2021 after reading an article about the group in the NY Times.  The CAS has many resources for cloud lovers but the best benefit is their “cloud a day” where an image, suggested or submitted by a member, is sent out to their more than 50,000 members with a description of what the editors think makes that image special in the world of clouds. 

As a new member, I was immediately hooked on the idea that perhaps one of my “clouds” might be chosen and shared.   Over the last few years, I have summited more than a few photos for their consideration.  Accepted or not, they always get back to you with their decision. 

Yesterday, as I sat down with the NY Times and a cup of coffee to see what was going on in the world, along with all the usual upsetting stuff, I was delighted to see an editorial by the founder of the CAS, Gavin Pretor-Pinney, about clouds and how important the various types that we see every day are in regulating our climate. 

I also learned that tomorrow, September 12th, is Cloud Appreciation Day.  Who knew?

For me, every day is a day to appreciate clouds and I am always on the lookout for cloud photo ops that may be worthy of consideration by the editors of the society. 

So far this year I have had four of my clouds published and sent out to their 50,000+ members.  And they weren’t the first.  I then realized that I had not kept proper track of what they had chosen from my submissions since I joined.  Fortunate for me, I was able to reach out to one of their editors who was gracious enough to do some research and send me all of the links. 

I was pleasantly surprised to learn that including my very first cloud photo on September 3rd 2021, there have been a full dozen to date. 

Today, in recognition of Cloud Appreciation Day, I will share all 12 of the photos that the CAS editors chose along with their explanation of why they thought that the images were worth sharing. 

The dozen… 

While not an actual “cloud” this was the very first one that they chose, an image of a green flash, a notoriously difficult moment to capture as it lasts for less than a second.  I used sport mode to take several photos a second and selected the one that miraculously “captured the moment”.   

If you wish to see their actual post in the format that they published, you can click on the link above each photo and my description.  I have also followed the link with the photo and what they had to say about the image, in italics.

3rd September 2021 A “green flash” is legendary in the tropics and when the horizon is clear of clouds you can stand on deck and watch for the pop of green on the horizon as the sun drops below the sea. To celebrate the moment, we often “blow the conch”, a sort of trumpet made of a large Bahamian conch shell with the top removed so you can blow into it.

“At sunset over the island of St. Lucia, Lesser Antilles, Bob Osborn (Member 54,749) witnessed a brilliant jewel of emerald light wink from the very edge of the horizon. Visible typically for just a fraction of a second, this is a green flash – an optical phenomenon that is hard to spot and caused by complex atmospheric conditions. For any chance of seeing one you first need a clear, uninterrupted view of the Sun on the horizon, which is usually best met by looking at it across the sea like this. In certain conditions, the water’s surface can also be helpful in setting up the second requirement: a ‘temperature inversion’ down near the surface, which means there is a low layer of cool air beneath warmer air just above. This temperature profile bends, or refracts, the light, causing a mirage effect that distorts the shape of the Sun and gives the appearance of separated blobs of light just above its upper rim that form and disappear with the exact alignment of Sun and temperature inversion. Shorter wavelengths of the Sun’s visible light, which look blue, are refracted more strongly by the atmosphere than longer wavelengths, which look red, which means the shimmering distortion appearing fleetingly at the top of the Sun can look coloured. Since another effect of the low atmosphere is to scatter away more of the shorter blue-looking wavelengths of light, this glimpse of colour is the next colour of the rainbow, green. With all this in mind, you may have more success looking for a real emerald than this atmospheric one.“

13th March 2022 I have always enjoyed taking photos of clouds on passage as there isn’t a whole lot else to look at when we are hundreds or perhaps thousands of miles from land.

“‘Overhead the sun was running away from the clouds with all his might, and they were trying to catch hold of him one by one, in vain; for he rolled through their soft grasp, leaving their hands bright with gold dust.’ 

From Martin Pippin in the Apple Orchard (1921) by English author Eleanor Farjeon. Quotation suggested by Serena Beeks (Member 42,201).

Stratocumulus, Altocumulus, and Cirrus clouds chasing the setting Sun, spotted by Bob Osborn (Member 54,749) whilst onboard his sloop Pandora in the Atlantic Ocean between Hampton, Virginia, US and the island of Antigua.“

31st March 2022 Of course an even better time to capture a particularly special moment in the clouds is at anchor as I was in St Anne, Martinique, probably enjoying a rum punch.

“Bob Osborn (Member 54,749) spends winters in the Caribbean Sea on his boat, a sloop called Pandora. This time of year brings reliable trade winds that blow from east to west and make for good sailing. But, as Bob knows well, it can also bring squalls. These gusty rain storms can be intense but usually dissipate quickly. From safe harbour, while waiting for a squall to pass, Bob spotted the golden canopy of a distant Cumulonimbus cloud at sunset appearing between the low, shadowed forms of Stratocumulus and Cumulus fractus. The dark clouds parted with the passing of the squall as if they were settling down to roost.“

23rd August 2022 One of their categories is clouds that look like animals and I will admit that I spend a lot of time seeing what sort of critter I might find. I thought it looked like an elephant and they agreed.

“‘Dumbo! The ninth wonder of the universe! The world’s only flying elephant!’  

The words of Timothy Q. Mouse in the Disney film Dumbo (1941).

A Cumulus mediocris cloud elephant spotted flying beneath a backdrop of Altocumulus undulatus and Cirrocumulus undulatus over the Caribbean Sea by Bob Osborn (Member 54,749).“

7th September 2022 During the pandemic, feeling safe after getting my first covid shot, I was heading from Antigua, bound for the Virgins with a friend and spied a “red sky in the morning”, which to us northerners, is a bad thing. While I was safe from weather issues, as the explanation below describes, I did contract covid, probably in St Thomas, and it spread to the rest of the crew on passage. As we were all vaccinated, the symptoms weren’t all that bad.

“Those familiar with the adage ‘Red sky in morning, sailor take warning’ might consider this fiery sunrise of Altocumulus undulatus with smoky Stratocumulus silhouettes to be an ominous start to the day. But the sky, spotted by Bob Osborn (Member 54,749), appeared over the Caribbean, just north of Antigua, where it turns out the red-sky warnings don’t apply. This ancient piece of weather lore is backed up by some solid science – but for the middle to higher latitudes of the globe. At latitudes above 30 degrees in both hemispheres, the prevailing winds and jet streams mostly drive weather systems from west to east. This direction of travel, and the fact that storms tend to arrive as fronts with gaps of more settled weather in between, form the basis for why the weather proverb is often accurate. A morning of bright red cloud cover suggests that the sky is clear off to the east where the Sun is on the horizon so that its light can shine uninterrupted up to the cloud cover overhead. This suggests the gap of settled weather has passed and the illuminated cloud might be the start of the next lot of stormy weather arriving. For these reasons, the phrase and its evening counterpart, ‘Red sky at night, sailors’ delight’, both work pretty well in temperate, maritime regions of the world. But winds blow differently in the tropics where Bob spotted his morning red sky. At latitudes below 30 degrees, the prevailing winds, known as trade winds, generally blow the other way: from east to west. A red sky in the morning, therefore, is of little concern for a low-latitude sailor like Bob, who told us ‘it marked the beginning of a beautiful day sailing in steady trade winds’.”

28th March 2023 Dominica is one of the “islands that kiss the clouds” a mountainous island that has beautiful rainforests. Brenda and I took a tour with friends. It was a magical day.

“Nicknamed ’The Nature Island’ of the Caribbean, Dominica lies in the West Indies and boasts mountainous rainforests abundant with plants and animals. They also host a fair few clouds, like these Stratus spotted by Bob Osborn (Member 54,749), who tells us the island’s mountain peaks are almost always shrouded in clouds. These, Bob explains, ‘keep everything lush, including the giant tree ferns that are abundant here.’ But the flow of nourishment is a two-way street. Not only do the clouds help maintain the forests, but the forests in turn contribute to the formation of the clouds. Trees in rainforests introduce moisture into the air through the process of transpiration. This is the tree equivalent of sweating, when moisture evaporates from their leaves to help keep them cool. The moist air rises and can cool enough to condense into cloud. In time, the clouds release rain and hand their moisture back to the trees, creating a self-sustaining ecosystem in which land and sky support one another. “

25th June 2023 Perhaps the best part of being on passage is the constant display of interesting clouds. My favorite deck watch is from 03:00 to 08:00 as I am treated to a sunrise most every morning. I often miss the sunsets as I am generally busy cooking dinner at that time.

“While sailing in his sloop, Pandora, from Saint Thomas in the US Virgin Islands to his home in Connecticut, Bob Osborn (Member 54,749) admired an Altocumulus at sunrise near the island of Bermuda. This was the stratiformis species of Altocumulus, which is when the cloud layer extends across the majority of the sky. Bob said it was a beautiful day at sea, homeward bound after a winter aboard in the Caribbean.“

5th April 2024 There is so much variation in sunrises and sunsets that watching them never gets old.

“‘So when the sun in bed,
Curtain’d with cloudy red,
   Pillows his chin upon an orient wave,
The flocking shadows pale
Troop to th’infernal jail,
   Each fetter’d ghost slips to his several grave…’

From the ode ‘On the Morning of Christ’s Nativity’ (1629) by John Milton.

Altocumulus at sunset spotted on board the sloop Pandora while on passage from Saint Thomas, US Virgin Islands to Connecticut, US by Bob Osborn (Member 54,749).“

5th January 2025 There is no other island in the Caribbean that has captured our interest more than Antigua. Due to high winds last season we spent even more time there. With Montserrat in the distance, the view is often arresting.

“‘The sun is spent, and now his flasks
Send forth light squibs, no constant rays;
The world’s whole sap is sunk;
The general balm th’ hydroptic earth hath drunk…’

From the poem ‘A Nocturnal Upon St. Lucy’s Day, Being the Shortest Day’ (c.1633) by John Donne.

Cumulus, Altocumulus, and Cirrostratus clouds spotted at sunset over the island of Montserrat from English Harbour, Antigua by Bob Osborn (Member 54,749).“

29th July 2025 In spite of this cloud’s tremendous size, we were spared the worst of the winds. Being struck by lightning, and getting my electronics fried, is my greatest fear when on passage.

“Bob Osborn (Member 54,749) was sailing the Atlantic Ocean between Bermuda and Horta island in the Azores, Portugal, on the sloop Pandora, when he spotted a Cumulus congestus cast in menacing orange by the setting Sun. This cloud appears to be dissipating, but according to Bob, it did not intend to go gentle into that good night. ‘A few hours later, we had to reduce sail as the strong winds passed over us,’ he said. ‘For certain, this beauty was a beast.’“

12th August 2025 It is rare for Brenda to take a photo of a sunset that I don’t also witness as we are generally together when the sun approaches the horizon. I don’t recall why I wasn’t there at that moment but perhaps I was ashore for a meeting of the Royal Naval Tot Club of Antigua and Barbuda. Brenda’s not a fan of rum so she often sits these events out. This moment was my loss…

“Brenda Osborn spotted these crepuscular rays from the deck of the boat she shares with her husband Bob Osborn (Member 54,749). They were in Falmouth Harbor, Antigua, the Caribbean. Crepuscular rays like these can appear when clouds cast shadows onto other clouds, creating beams of light and shade. In this case, a gap in the tall Cumulus clouds off on the western horizon allowed light from the low evening Sun to shine up onto the underside of Altocumulus clouds above Brenda. A small fragment of Cumulus, known as Cumulus fractus, cast its own shadow in the middle, splitting the beam into a V shape.“

30th August 2025 After months of preparation to sail to the Azores, I was particularly entranced by the extinct volcano Pico and her many faces, always made better the cloud displays that change with the hours. During our time in the Azores, I took countless pictures of this mountain, the tallest in the Atlantic basin.

“As Bob Osborn (Member 54,749) sailed past Horta in the Azores, Portugal, he noticed that Mount Pico, an extinct volcano and the tallest peak in the Atlantic basin, was wearing a jaunty hat.

Known as a cap cloud, this is an example of the lenticularis species of cloud forming directly over, or in contact with, the peak of a mountain or hill. It develops as a wave of moist air flows over the summit, cooling enough at its crest for some of its moisture to condense as a smooth cap. Cumulus humilis clouds drift by in the foreground.

Perhaps from its height of 2,350 metres (7,710 feet), Mount Pico could see a change of weather coming and decided to dress accordingly.“

There is something magical about clouds and while I have always loved looking up into the sky, being a member of the Cloud Appreciation Society has made me even more keenly aware of the simple pleasure of enjoying the constantly changing display.

I hope that you too enjoy Cloud Appreciation Day on September 12th. I’m ready and will be wishing for the perfect photo that will make my Cloud-A-Day submissions a baker’s dozen.

Just in case you are inspired to join. Once again, the link is https://cloudappreciationsociety.org/

Who knows, perhaps you will have your own Cloud-A-Day. You won’t be alone…

Some years ago I saw an article in the New York Times about a fellow in the UK that has a “society” with the mission of appreciating clouds, a group aptly called The Cloud Appreciation Society.

The founder, Gavin Pretor-Phinney, (a perfect name for a guy who would do such things) founded the group in 2005 following his appearance at a literary festival in Cornwall. Packaging is everything and he was afraid that nobody would attend his talk so he entitled it “The Inaugural Lecture of the Cloud Appreciation Society.”

The only rub was that the society didn’t exist but his talk was a hit so he quickly formed the group and within a few months he had over 2,000 members and the rest is history. As member 54,749, and that was my number when I joined in 2021, I am clearly not alone in loving clouds.

The model is that members recommend “clouds” in the form of a photo, a piece of art of anything that evokes clouds and will mean something to their admirers. And, if the CAS feels that your “cloud” is worthy, it is sent out to the full membership and they do this 365 days a year.

I was so taken by the group that I wrote this post about Gavin, his society, and included a few of my own favorite photos of clouds. Check it out… This post includes a link to Gavin’s Ted Talk “cloudy with a chance of Joy.” It is worth watching.

Over the years I have submitted more than a few “clouds” and I am always thrilled when they choose to distribute my picture to their members.

I don’t know how many of my images have been chosen but today yet another landed in my inbox, the third this year, a personal record. Yahoo! With more than 50,000 members and only 365 days in the year, I doubt that there are many 3-photos-a-season-members. Whether or not there are others, I’m going with that for now.

Today’s cloud, taken by me in the Azores, is particularly meaningful as arriving in Horta marked the completion of my longest ocean passage to date, the nearly 2,000 mile run from Bermuda as leader, and participant, in the inaugural “Salty Dawg Rally to the Azores”. My entire run from Trinidad to Spain was nearly 5,000 miles but the Bermuda to Horta leg was a particular biggie.

When an image is sent out to their members, they give credit to the author as well as add additional information about why that particular cloud might be important to those who love clouds.

Today’s cloud…mine…August 30th.

“As Bob Osborn (Member 54,749) sailed past Horta in the Azores, Portugal, he noticed that Mount Pico, an extinct volcano and the tallest peak in the Atlantic basin, was wearing a jaunty hat.

Known as a cap cloud, this is an example of the lenticularis species of cloud forming directly over, or in contact with, the peak of a mountain or hill. It develops as a wave of moist air flows over the summit, cooling enough at its crest for some of its moisture to condense as a smooth cap. Cumulus humilis clouds drift by in the foreground.

Perhaps from its height of 2,350 metres (7,710 feet), Mount Pico could see a change of weather coming and decided to dress accordingly.”

Another of my images was published recently of a storm cloud that we encountered on our passage from Bermuda to Horta, our planned landfall.

“Bob Osborn (Member 54,749) was sailing the Atlantic Ocean between Bermuda and Horta island in the Azores, Portugal, on the sloop Pandora, when he spotted a Cumulus congestus cast in menacing orange by the setting Sun. This cloud appears to be dissipating, but according to Bob, it did not intend to go gentle into that good night. ‘A few hours later, we had to reduce sail as the strong winds passed over us,’ he said. ‘For certain, this beauty was a beast.’”

And for the first time, earlier this year, I submitted a photo taken by Brenda in Antigua over the winter, which they chose. We were at anchor in Falmouth Harbor and while I was aboard, I never saw this and am so pleased that Brenda took the time to memorialize the moment. I guess that the editors at the CAS felt the same way when they sent this image out on August 12th.

“Brenda Osborn spotted these crepuscular rays from the deck of the boat she shares with her husband Bob Osborn (Member 54,749). They were in Falmouth Harbor, Antigua, the Caribbean. Crepuscular rays like these can appear when clouds cast shadows onto other clouds, creating beams of light and shade. In this case, a gap in the tall Cumulus clouds off on the western horizon allowed light from the low evening Sun to shine up onto the underside of Altocumulus clouds above Brenda. A small fragment of Cumulus, known as Cumulus fractus, cast its own shadow in the middle, splitting the beam into a V shape.”

I agree with Gavin and the other 50,000+ plus members that “cloud spotting” is among the purest of pursuits and one that being a member has made me appreciate all the more.

The Cloud Appreciation society says, and I agree, that…

“We believe that the sky is the most extraordinary thing to look at, and that we should take the time to lie on our backs in a field and watch the clouds roll by.
The act of lying on your back, staring up at the sky, and seeing nothing but clouds is the best possible antidote to the chaos and stress of everyday life.“

In these particularly chaotic times, looking up at the sky and, for me, being a member of The Cloud Appreciation Society is more important than ever.

So, go outside, stop doom-scrolling on your phone, for a moment, and look up at the clouds. Perhaps you will feel better. I do, every day. And that is in spite of a fair amount of doom-scrolling on my part, I’ll admit…

Hopefully, better times are on the horizon, or should I say “in the clouds”

And, after a moment in the clouds, go back to your phone and join The Cloud Appreciation Society.

I think that you too will feel better…

Well, that’s it for now. Pandora has been hauled in Almerimar where she will be until we return next spring to begin cruising the western Mediterranean.

Somehow, after a week of getting things ready, it was still a scramble to get Pandora over to the lift dock for her 08:00 appointment.

I won’t try to itemize all the things that go into putting a complicated boat like Pandora into storage but I can say that it took days to accomplish all of it.

The good news is that while it is very hot in Almarimar right now, by September and throughout the winter it will become a lot cooler so perhaps she will fair well.

I have hired a mechanic, “boat sitter” who will keep an eye on her and arrange for repairs and routine maintenance that needs to be done as well as arrange to have her launched in advance of our arrival in April.

He seems knowledgeable and was recommended by the manager of the leading chandlery in town so I am fairly confident that she is in good hands. He met us on the dock and assisted with handling Pandora into the slip to be hauled.

Brenda took a few photos of her being hauled. She was happy to be far away from the action.

Her sad rudder. At first glance it doesn’t look like a big issue to repair but they may have to pull the rudder, post and all, which is a big deal. To pull the rudder involves a good amount of internal disassembly. And she has to be positioned over a deep pit so that they can lower the rudder and shaft down enough for the shaft to come out.

Also, the vane steering shaft is bent and that will require disassembly, not counting new parts.

Well, at least labor rates in Spain are less than the US. Actually, rates just about everywhere is less than the US with the possible exception of those in Bermuda.

After Pandora was safely on the hard we left for the six hour drive to Madrid where we are now enjoying nearly a week of sightseeing. Our hotel is in the heart of the historic district and central to great dinning and more museums than we have time to see.

Along the way to Madrid the terrain changed from near desert, where nothing will grow, to semi/mostly arid with olive farms that went on for as far as the eye could see.

The terrain was remarkably rugged with tunnel after tunnel cut through the cliffs.

With our little Fiat 500, I had to constantly downshift to keep moving as the grades were pretty steep and in spite of my best efforts, wasn’t able to keep to the 100 KPH speed limit except when the road was flat or, better yet, downhill. I am fine with little cars but did feel quite exposed on the highway when surrounded by the tandem trucks that were constantly around us.

The location of our hotel is lovely, festooned with flags over the entire street. The view from our window on the second floor. The hotel is the Posada del Dragon, a very charming place.

We have enjoyed spending time in small street cafes and with the 100 degree temperatures, it’s more fun to sit and watch the world go by during the heat of the. Somehow a glass of sangria makes everything seem ok.

It’s fun to wander down side streets looking at menus and picking a place to eat. This scene, where we ate one evening, looks more like a still life painting than I realized when Brenda took the photo.

As we strolled back from dinner one evening the light was magical from inside this 100 year old gourmet market.

All the vendors lining the aisles.

Lovely little side streets.

Dining really doesn’t get going until after 9pm, way past our normal bedtime.

And speaking of nighttime. Brenda got tickets to a Flaminco dancing show last evening and it was just terrific. There were 4 dancers, two singers and a guitar player. We had amazing seats, literally three feet from the dance floor. To watch these dancers up close while drinking a sangria was very special. This photo, of one of the dancers captures the drama of the moment pretty well. How she tossed her long skirt as she twirled made me wonder how often she ended up landing on the floor during practice. Check out this very short video of her finale.

Each day we have toured historic buildings, including the royal palace and I have to say that the over the top Rocco gold gilt everywhere in these buildings made me a bit sad as it reminds me of what has become of the Oval Office in recent months.

Each room, if the word “room” is sufficient to describe such a space, is over the top.

Perhaps some design ideas for the new ballroom for the Whitehouse.

On that subject, when I was returning the rental car to the airport the other day, I was struggling with the metro to get back to the hotel and was helped by a lovely young couple from Spain. We got to talking and they told me that they and others, when meeting an American nowadays, immediately see us very negatively.

This year in particular, we have run into this time and time again and have even been advised to be clear from the start, when meeting someone local, to make it clear that “we are not like that”. Sadly, the phrase “ugly American” has taken on a new meaning as we were never seen in a particularly positive light to begin with.

Anyway, we will see how it all turns out but I am not optimistic. One can only hope…

After months of moving Pandora north from Trinidad and into the Med, I am very glad that she is now on the hard until spring as I can use a break from the constant moving, dealing with the repairs that is life on a cruising boat and crew changes along the way.

I enjoy time aboard and am looking forward to exploring new waters next year with Brenda but not quite yet…

No need to think about all that now as Pandora is put to bed.

In a few days Pandora will be hauled for the season and Brenda and I will head to Madrid for about a week to see the sights before we head home to the US for the winter. We won’t return to Pandora until next spring, likely April.

We have enjoyed being aboard Pandora here in the marina and doing some touring of local landmarks. Well, local has been up to two hours away so we have been doing a lot of driving.

The marina is quite nice, reasonably priced and loaded with places to dine out. It seems that a lot of the boats are being stored and many of those have likely been here for years, with no use.

The big driver of visitors to this area are the beaches which go on for miles.

When we were looking at flights from Almerimar we discovered that while this place is a great spot to haul with plenty of services and reasonable rates, we found that flights to the US, while available, were a lot more expensive than from more popular tourist destinations.

Also, as we are smack in the middle of “high season” the pickings for affordable fares were quite limited.

So, what to do?

We hunted around quite a bit to see what we could do to find reasonable fares and settled on departing from Madrid, a 4.5 hour drive from Almerimar where we could get a direct flight to Boston and avoid stopovers, sometimes two and more than 24 hours to make the trip from here.

We figured, that we could afford to stay in Madrid for about a week and the hotel cost could be about the same as the savings on the flight by being flexible.

What we did not anticipate is the crushing heatwave that has settled over much of Europe and especially Spain and we will be treated to 100 degree temperatures for our entire visit to Madrid. That is such a bummer so I guess we will have to focus on indoor activities or do our outside stuff in the early morning or evening.

The landscape here along the coast is very barren as this area has the only true desert in Europe and it shows with mile after mile of barren landscape devoid of any real plant life.

Just about every spot that is near the coast and mostly flat is covered with greenhouses. We have driven 90 minutes in each direction from the marina and there are greenhouses everywhere.

We visited a number of local towns and enjoyed seeing the sites. As it was very hot, we weren’t able to do as much walking as we had hoped. In Nijar, not far from here, we enjoyed time touring the windy roads on foot and also by car. Even with our tiny Fiat 500, we ended up on one street where we had to fold the side mirrors as we could not fit through the buildings.

On one particularly narrow street we happened upon a very nice woman who was proud to share her little corner of the world with us. Her English was only slightly better than our Spanish, which is to say not good at all as we don’t know any Spanish, but we muddled through and enjoyed our brief time together.

She motioned us to head up the staircase to see a restored Arab watchtower from the 14th century. There are ruins of many of these towers in the area as they served as early warning from attacks.

It was a pretty steep climb even though the path was well paved.

Steep or not, the view from the tower was amazing. Again, with greenhouses in the distance.

In town a maze of narrow streets.

Whitewashed buildings set off by a blaze of color from the bougainvillea.

In various areas in the town there were communal fountains where locals come to fill up jugs of drinking water.

Rain is scarce here with less than a foot falling each year. However, when it comes, it sometimes comes in a rush so there are wide drainage culverts running thru the towns to handle the surge of water.

On this building a lovely decorative spout from the roof to handle the occasional downpour.

We enjoyed a glass of wine nearby but had to beg to be served as he was closing up for the afternoon. However, after asking again, very nicely and agreeing not to steal the glasses, he relented. The setting was very peaceful.

Closed or not, a charming spot.

And behind us, a treelined courtyard. We sat to the right…

Interestingly, this area is known for pottery. We so wished that we could have purchased some to bring home. Alas, too heavy. We visited a shop that was a riot of merchandise.

I was lusting after the amphora.

Truly a family business as the workshop and kiln were in the back room.

Another day we visited the Alcazaba castle/fort in Malaga, actively used from the 11th to 14th century. In the foreground a Roman Amphitheater from the 1st century. There are also ruins from the Phoenicians hundreds of years BC in the area. That’s a long time ago.

It is remarkable that the history of this area here goes back so far when we measure our history in hundreds (barely) of years and even that is looking shaky. I guess that it’s safe to say that every civilization is fragile and will begin, prosper and end.

I have to wonder where the US is on that continuum. Getting GREAT? I guess it is a question of perspective…

We had a lovely lunch, perhaps the best so far in Spain, overlooking the fortifications. We saw a family and offered to take their picture. They reciprocated…

It’s interesting to see how Alcazaba was built into the hillside instead of leveling the hill the way we do nowadays. Of course, for security, they wanted to be on a hill. Harder to lay siege against them. Besides, they built all of this with just brute backbreaking labor and minimum machinery beyond ropes and levers so they had to build it in a way that took advantage of what was there.

This pyramid in the square looks down into the Roman ruins but we were not able to see if first hand as it was closed that day. The fort was built on the hill above the roman ruins. I wonder if they cared about the history of the area the way that we do now. Probably not. Out with the old and in with the new.

As we toured the fort, it was astounding to see how extensive it was.

With contemplative gardens… And, of course, plenty of tourists “contemplating.”

The complexity of the brickwork was a sight to behold. I guess you can lavish a remarkable attention to detail when you have three centuries to get it right.

And views of the city with old but not as old as the fort and modern apartments. That’s what happens when a place is home to generations over thousands of years. Here “urban renewal” means something different…

Not sure what to say about this tower except that it’s lovely.

Another day we went to Almeria, yet another historic city, and after three days of running around in the heat we decided to do less than in previous days. It was hot…

Did I say that it has been hot? Thought so…

We decided to limit our touring to a single place, the Cathedral of Almeria. It is catholic but is not what we generally associate with Catholic churches. Like other structures from this time period, the 16th century, it was a place of worship and yet had defenses to keep out invaders.

“Hey, Juan, please shoot those guys trying to siege us, I am in the middle of giving communion.” “Wait, if they are willing to convert, invite them in.”

Inside a massive courtyard.

And, of course, the cathedral itself, amazing. No surprise that it took 40 years to build the basic structure, and centuries to complete as it stands today. The last part was completed in 1804. That’s a long time. I guess that for hundreds of years, the administration’s priorities didn’t change much.

An impressive altar to be sure. But wait, there’s more…

Hard to believe that there was enough money and skilled labor, to do all this. Perhaps it was a fear of going to Hell.

After all that religion, we had to find a place for tapas and this one was well reviewed and packed…

A Lovely location and it must be good because it was standing room only. Sadly, some of the dishes were a bit too unfamiliar to our western pallets be fully enjoyed. Exactly what was that dish anyway?

Over several days we drove hours to and from the marina but I will admit that it is already blurring a bit and it’s hard to keep track of what we saw were.

So, with two days more before Pandora is hauled, we are thinking hard about what clothing to bring home and what to leave on board. As you can imagine, after years of tropical cruising a lot has accumulated and now we have to decide what should stay and what should go.

While it is very hot here now, our cruising for the next few years will be during the “hip seasons” spring and fall which are not as hot as we are experiencing in August. Yes, temperatures are above normal, or perhaps in line with the “new normal” but being in the 90s to 100s now is a lot hotter than spring and fall when it’s more like 10 to 15 degrees cooler, which is certainly more temperate.

During our first two months aboard next spring, we will move north toward Barcelona with stops in the Beleric islands and they too are cooler than here, in the 60s to 70s during the day and in the 50s at night so the sorts of clothing will be very much different than what we need now.

Lots to think about along with all the work to be done to Pandora while she is on the hard.

I guess that’s about it for now. Time to begin thinking about weightier issues like where we will go for dinner and what we will order. Exactly what is in that dish?

I have become very accustomed to sangria so that’s progress.

Well, this is it. Pandora will be hauled for the season next Friday and my months of passage making from Trinidad to Spain is over. As much as I enjoy being aboard, I am ready to depart and head back to being a land-lubber for a while.

The last few days have been a whirlwind since we arrived on Monday after an overnight motorsail from Gibraltar. It seems that the wind blows from the east like crazy and then dies. Not a lot of west winds in these parts. Bummer but we made it.

For the first quarter of the trip, we hugged the coastline on the off chance that there was a lone orca that might want yet one more piece of Pandora.

Alas, the run, with little or no wind, as expected, was uneventful and we arrived at the marina in good shape. What better way to end the many nights at sea than with a beautiful sunrise.

Steve and Peter left Pandora to do a bit more exploration on Tuesday and that marked the beginning of getting Pandora ready for her time on the hard.

The list of items that need attention is long and I was lucky to find a guy that does a number of jobs on boats, including fixing “orca adjusted” rudders.

This marina is huge, with slips for more than 1,100 boats. I have never been in a marina this big and within the property, and it’s confusing on how to get around, there are dozens of restaurants. As with much of the Spanish coastline, the only shelter is in the marinas as the coastline doesn’t have any natural harbors. Fortunately, they are not all that expensive except in some of the more upscale regions popular with the .01% crowd.

Here is Pandora tied up, Med Moor style as is typical in Europe.

Personally, I prefer this verses fitting in-between finger piers as there are less things to scratch the boat on. When you pull up to the dock you tie the stern to the cement dock and then an attendant hands you a light “lazy line” that runs from the dock along the bottom to a mooring out in front of the dock. That line connects to a thicker line that you cleat onto the bow and pull in tight to hold you off of the wall.

Pandora’s dink is trussed up on deck and all sails are off to minimize sun damage for the winter as it is really sunny here. Soon I will remove the cockpit enclosure to minimize the sun issues with the canvas in advance of hauling her next Friday for the season. I have someone who will keep an eye on her and act as a GC to help coordinate everything that needs to be done to Pandora while she is in storage.

The boom is up on a weird angle because I had to remove a fitting from the mast for work and it will be returned early next week.

Beyond this huge marina and nearby beaches and resorts, the area is known as an agricultural powerhouse, growing half of all fruits and vegetables consumed in Europe. As the landscape is arid, with less than 12″ of rain per year, the growing is done in greenhouses. And, there are so many greenhouses here that they cover 100 square miles and this area has the greatest concentration of greenhouses anywhere in the world.

The landscape from the water shows as a vast sea of white in the foothills of the mountains. So much area is white that they can actually measure a drop in temperature in that area due to the reflective nature of all that white.

This short CBS piece gives some interesting background of what is the largest concentration of greenhouses on the planet and likely a look into the future of intensive farming with a low carbon footprint. 

Almerimar is also a great spot to be if you want to explore some of the most historic parts of Spain. The southern region, also known as the Andalucia district and is home to some of the oldest cities in Europe and given the number of times that different cultures were in charge over the centuries there is a wonderful mix of architecture.

Forgive me but yet another short video that gives a feel for what this area has to offer. Our plan is to begin exploring this area next week and after Pandora is hauled next Friday, move up to Madrid for about a week before flying home on the 14th.

So, tomorrow evening I pick Brenda up at the airport and will get a car for exploring. Between the final details of getting Pandora ready for 7 months on the hard and all the projects that need addressing, along with our planned day outings to explore the area, we will certainly be busy.

I now also realize just how much effort it took to bring Pandora from Trinidad all the way to Spain and now that I am here, it makes me realize the scale of the accomplishment and effort of working hard to support a constant change of crew along the way.

So, there you have it. Journey done or is it just beginning?

All I know is that after months on the move, I am happy to be winding down here in Almarimar.

And having Brenda back with me is the best of all.

After four nights in Gibraltar we are headed to our next, and final port, the PUERTO DEPORTIVO ALMERIMAR marina near Almeria, Spain where Pandora will have her rudder fixed and a number of other repairs managed. She will be on the hard for the winter until Brenda and I return in the spring for some cruising. The marina is in a more industrial area than the one located in the heart of the Almeria historic district, some 30 miles farther up the coastline. Not as quaint but they have the facilities to address what Pandora needs and a yard to put her on the hard, something that is in short supply in Spain.

The marina we stayed in while visiting Gibraltar, Queen’s Quay, is a really nice place, reasonably well priced, well protected and central to the sights with Gibraltar rock in the background.

The marina is Med Moore, with easy to pick up lazy lines to tie to the bow. You back into the slip, tie up to the dock and pull up on the lazylines, that are tied to the bow, to secure you in place. It’s a nice system and way better than having to pull in between pilings as is the case in the US.

My Gibraltar courtesy flag.

The marina is central to the historic area with buildings that span hundreds of years. Especially from the early days when England used this port to establish dominance in the Western Med as any ships heading into our out of the Med had to pass very close to Gibraltar.

Everywhere you go, beautifully preserved buildings and forts.

Passageways opening up into courtyards.

Beautiful historic streets all to yourself on the off hours.

And yet jammed with tourists during the day.

Charming narrow streets everywhere. Not really room for cars to pass on many streets and others, just a series of steps.

With all of the narrow streets, scooters are very popular and everywhere you look hundreds are lined up. Parking is an issue but less so if you are on two wheels.

Outdoor cafes on every street corner.

Endless choices of places to sit and pass the time people watching.

No need to worry about the angle of the sun in at cafes except perhaps at noon when the sun is high.

To see the shops intermingled with beautiful military stone work is fascinating.

There is no missing that Gibraltar has a long history with the Royal Navy as witnessed by many statues including at least one of Lord Nelson.

And charming homes beautifully preserved.

No end to the interesting architecture.

And everything in the shadow of forts built over hundreds of years by the various groups that controlled the island.

Yesterday I took the tram up to the top of Gibraltar and toured the sites.

Of course, what the rock is best known for is the monkeys and there are plenty. This one, a mother with her baby. As cute as they are, they look like they have plenty of fleas and other issues. Not particularly cuddly.

The big males look pretty sure of themselves.

The rock has been an important strategic point for the military for centuries and many battles have been fought over who was going to control it.

During WW11 there was a tremendous gun emplacement overlooking the strait. The specifics on this gun are impressive. Of course, compared to today’s arms, this was remarkably crude.

The gun sat up high on the end of the rock. The barrel is no longer on the emplacement but the housing and base are impressive.

The mechanics for pointing the gun below. Imagine the shockwave that hit this when such a massive gun was fired.

The allies dug many tunnels through solid granite to move supplies.

There was a good deal of equipment behind the scenes to power the gun, pivot the base or move ammunition including this massive generator.

Out side near the gun were these laughably tiny fire buckets filled with sand. Hard to imagine that they would do anything in the event of a major fire.

The scale of the rock and how vertical it is made me wonder how they got the materials and equipment up the rough roads in the age before engines. Answer, they must have lugged it up with block and teackels as along the roads were massive iron rings cemented into the rocks. I suspect that they used ropes and block and tackle to slowly pull the heavy guns up the hill.

You really get a feel for the scale of the place when looking out over the harbor.

And a view of the marina where Pandora was moored.

There were many sites to see and each one meant a walk up and down hill, sometimes a lot of steps, hundreds. This view is just a very small part of the steps that I traversed, both ways.

There was a sign at the top of the stairs warning visitors that the apes in that area were particularly aggressive. They hang out on steps that are only about 18″ wide so it is very hard to avoid them.

So, down I went carefully picking my way past the apes. Suddenly I felt a violent tug on my camera bag behind me, and turned to see an ape with his arm jammed in one of the pockets, grasping a bag of nuts. I had forgotten that it was there. He must have smelled it as I walked by. It was pretty funny. Of course, I didn’t want it back.

I hope that he disposed of the bag properly. Based on the amount of trash in that particular area, I wasn’t hopeful and no way was I going to try and retrieve the empty.

One of the highlights of the visit was my visit to St Michael’s Cave. The scale of the cave, which I explored for an hour or more, on well paved walkways fortunately, was amazing.

The vaulted ceiling was lit with colored lights. Very impressive. Note how small the staircase looks.

The scale of everything was breathtaking.

And in one area there was a rock formation that looked a lot like an angel and has been revered for hundreds of years as a sign.

The main cavern was huge, so big that they had hundreds of seats set up to watch a lightshow.

Every few minutes a show accompanied by music. The idea sounds tacky but I really enjoyed the experience. Checkout this short video as it captures the moment well.

I seemed that everywhere I went I was experiencing a bit of vertigo but none more than when I walked across this suspension bridge over a deep ravine. With every step, the bridge swayed… Not my favorite.

Big drop.

The views were dramatic everywhere I looked.

Watching these climbers made me weak in the knees. Nothing below the guy on the right for 1,000 feet down. Perhaps farther than that…

Our destination when we arrive tomorrow about mid morning, is Almeria, Spain is about 130 miles from Gibraltar and because of the continued threat the from orca, and my being terribly skittish about encountering more of them on this leg, we hugged the coastline until we were 20 miles from Gibraltar, the farthest east that any encounter has been recorded since 2020 when the attacks first became an issue. Conventional wisdom is that you stay in water that is under 100′ deep as very few attacks have happened in water that shallow.

As I approached Gibraltar, I relied on attack records from the last few weeks and assumed that because nothing had happened recently, that I was safe. Well, I was wrong. I should have hugged the shoreline as I am doing today.

So now, I am not taking any chances and am staying close to shore until I am farther away from Gibraltar than any attack or sighting has been noted.

We will see as the rules keep changing and it seems that the number of attacks show no evidence that the problem is going to go away and may very well be increasing as more and more orcas learn the trade.

As we departed Gibraltar today, a lovely shot of “the rock” receding into the distance.

And speaking of being hit by orcas, when I was in the cave, after the light show, I heard someone call “Bob, Bob is that you?”. It was almost too dark to see anything but somehow someone recognized me from Salty Dawg, another boat that had done the rally.

Well, it turns out that he was hit too and the damage to his boat was much more severe. His rudder was badly damaged and his autopilot ram was trashed along with the internal components of his wheel steering. After the hit he was unable to steer, only going in circles, and had to install his emergency tiller and steer with that with the part of the rudder that was left.

So, what are the odds of being attacked by an Orca, a question that I have tried to find an answer to? Well, if you are a member of Salty Dawg it would be about one in three as I believe that only about six of the boats that made the run into the Med and two of us were attacked. Those are not great odds.

So, as we made our way northeast we stayed close to the coast until we were about 30 miles from Gibraltar and the coastline turned east, beyond the furthest point where orca have been sighted and now we are heading directly east to our destination. So far, so good but we will see if this strategy proves to be good.

One issue for me is that with only half of a rudder, there isn’t much to steer the boat so if we were to encounter any real wind we’d have a lot of trouble keeping the boat on track and one thing that I have noticed in reviewing the forecasts over the last few months for the western Med is that it either blows hard from the east or there is no wind at all. It seems that there is almost never a decent time when the winds are favorable to sail east.

Another issue with the wind is that when it is calm, the good conditions for motoring only last for a day or two so you have to move when conditions are good. In our case, the wind calmed down as of early Sunday morning and kicks back up from the east on Tuesday morning. This means that we had no choice but to hightail it out of Gibraltar this morning when there was no wind or get stuck for four of five more days.

And, timing is everything as my crew needs to depart on Wednesday and Brenda flies in on Friday so off we go.

I plan to rent a car to pick up Brenda at the airport in a few days. I’m excited.

So, setting aside the orca “thing” I loved Gibraltar and look forward to checking out Almeria, our next port.

As we approached land after our run from the Azores, I was putting my thoughts down about a very difficult night that we had when the wind was so much stronger than the forecast suggested. I had roughed out the part of the post that follows below and had set it aside to focus on what laid before us our final approach to Gibraltar.

For months I have have been very focused on the orca risk and was terribly disappointed that the acoustic pinger I had ordered from Germany had been delayed and I was forced to depart without it.

Along with any possible mitigation of the risk of attack that the unit promised, I also studied www.orcas.pt to see what track to take to minimize risk. I had decided to go toward Morocco as there had only been a single attack in that area over the last few weeks verses more farther north along the Portuguese coast as the orcas had mostly migrated there, following the tuna that they hunt.

Well, I was wrong and we were hit, in a big way. But, before I get into that, and there is plenty to tell, some highlights from that nasty weather we encountered.

After a week on passage, we sighted land, Morocco off of the starboard bow. Not much to look at…

Land ho!

Seeing land for the first time in a week and after 1,000 miles of ocean sailing was a big deal and we were excited. Only a few more miles to go and I will have completed my transatlantic passage aboard Pandora that began in early April when I left Trinidad.

I mentioned in my last post, on our last night at sea we were anticipating wind in the low 20s with gusts to 30 yesterday afternoon and overnight, as we approached Gibraltar, about 150 miles out.

Forecasted conditions turned out to be a massive underestimate and while the models predicted one thing but we experienced something altogether different. 

Instead of low 20s predicted, we experienced 30kts sustained with gusts to 35kts.  I am not a good judge of waves but these were among the biggest that I have encountered, likely in the 10′ to 15′ range. Sorry, no photos as we were busy…

The only seas larger that I have experienced were surfing down 25’ rollers that I encountered on a passage to the BVI years ago from Beaufort NC but that is a story for another day. 

We knew that strong winds were coming but clearly did not anticipate how bad it would get.  In preparation we had put two reefs in the mainsail and as it got worse we rolled up the jib to half size, only the second time that I have done so but it did take some of the pressure off of the boat.

During the height of the winds, for 8 or more hours, the wind was directly on the beam and waves were slamming against the boat every few minutes.  As the waves rolled by they bashed into our port side  and tossed Pandora around violently.   In spite of this were still moving along at 9+kts with bursts to over 10kts.

There was one particularly big wave that struck us around midnight, breaking completely over the boat from bow to stern.  White water engulfed Pandora, driving her sideways with so much force that the leeward rail was driven under and water piled up into the cockpit.  Fortunately, not a lot of water actually ended up aboard but it was very dramatic.

On the weather side (the side facing the waves) the wave broke with a roar, sending solid water and foam as high as the top of the dodger, breaking over the entire boat and cascading down the other side.  

The front of the dodger took a solid hit and water sprayed right through the zipper and down below.   It was amazing how much water can find it’s way through the teeth of a zipper if it hits hard enough.  It made a bit of a mess in the galley.   

With each hit water came up under the side curtains in the cockpit and even sprayed upwards onto the underside of the hard dodger, and with all that pressure, sprayed up 4’ in the air.

Down below things held up very well and the only real leak was around the deck mast boot which remains the one meaningful leak that I have not been able to solve.

As things began to settle down, I went below and when I woke up for my 03:00 watch, it was still windy but manageable and much calmer.   The speed with which the wind abated was amazing.  In a few hours from 30+ to high teens.   The difference of 10kts may not sound like much but it is.

As I finished up this portion of the post, we were about 15 miles from entering the Strait of Gibraltar, a corridor that is busier than any place I have ever been. And most are upwards of 1,000′ long. Big boys…

Each ship bigger than the last.

Morocco to starboard.

To Port, Spain.

Our plan was to head into the marina which was fortunately open until 10:00.

I was proud to have sailed all the way across the Atlantic Ocean. My late dad remarked more than a decade ago, “wouldn’t it be nice to see Gibraltar from the deck of Pandora”. Here is that photo. Mission accomplished dad.

As we approached the straits of Gibraltar we were moving along nicely with a powerful inbound current, making better than 10kts over the bottom. All of a sudden, the wheel started spinning violently.

We had no idea what was happening and looking around, saw nothing. But, moments later we spied a huge orca under the stern and realized that he/she wasn’t alone. A pod of perhaps 4-5 of these huge animals had targeted Pandora.

Steve had the presence of mind to get out his camera and take a video. As they say “if an orca attacks a boat and there isn’t anyone to video tape it, did the attack happen? Well, we did record it and it did happen.

Unfortunately, this short video on YouTube can’t be embedded but you can click on this link to get a feel for at least part of what we experienced. It wasn’t fun to be attacked by orcas

It was terrifying and I had fears of the rudder post snapping or the bottom of the boat cracking open as has had on a number of other boats. Pandora’s rudder post is large, made of carbon fiber and it held up well. However, about half of the rudder was ripped off, left hanging by a slab of fiberglass fabric.

It wasn’t until we tied up in the marina and took a look under the boat that we realized the extent of the damage. The next morning I purchased an aggressive hand saw, put on a wetsuit, hooked up my hookah air compressor and spent an hour under the boat sawing through the remainder of the broken rudder.

After my work underwater was done. trying to make the best of a difficult situation.

Here is a shot of the hydrovane rudder. This is one tough piece of equipment and it was no match for a 9,000lb orca. Now bent 90 degrees.

Rudder rubble on the dock.

Fortunately, what is left can be pieced together to make a template for the new/repaired rudder which I will have fabricated in Almeria Spain, where Pandora will be hauled for the season in mid August. The damage is severe but there is enough rudder left to at least steer when the wind is light and we are under power so making the 150 mile run to Almeria should go well.

Today it is a beautiful day in Gibraltar, a spectacular place to visit but I will say that after ten years of anticipating being here, the experience in the wake of my orca encounter has taken some of the fun out of the visit.

Quite a backdrop to Pandora in the marina.

Gibraltar in the distance. Actually, not far at all.

And, of course, the Gibraltar courtesy flag which I will display proudly in my home office. And speaking of castles, I am going to take a cable car to the top of Gibraltar rock tomorrow morning so there will be more to tell about the fascinating history of this place.

It’s a bit tough to go east from here as the winds blow hard from the east much of the time but beginning on Sunday morning they subside so I can likely motor all of the 150 miles to Almeria in calm conditions. Sailing, with my “adjusted” rudder isn’t practical so motoring is a good option.

After we arrive in Almeria my crew will help me take sails off of the boat for service. After they depart, I should have a day or two to get the boats settled for storage so when Brenda arrives we will be free to have some fun and then drive to Madrid for a few days before we board a flight home.

After being aboard since early April, I am very much looking forward to saying good by to Pandora for a while. I am sure that after 7 months I will be more than ready to head back.

And, as far as my “orca encounter” goes, as they say, “experience it once, tell the story forever”. And I WILL for sure!

“Hey kids, remember when Grandpa’s boat was attacked by an orca”? “Tipi? What is an orca? Can we go outside and play ball.” Tipi is what my grandchildren call me. And no, I have no idea what it means but our oldest came up with the name.

Orca or not, Gibraltar is a beautiful place and it seems that orcas like it too.

Overall the passages from Trinidad to Gibraltar were pretty good overall. Well, that’s if you ignore getting my rudder ripped off by a couple of 9,000 lb brutes.

All I can say is “Dad, I made it to Gibraltar if a little bit worse for wear”.

And yes, orcas bite boats and unlucky me, they choose to bite Pandora.

Last night was sporty as we thrashed along with two reefs in the main with wind gusts to the low 20s.   The wind really picked up around dusk and with a second reef in the main the boat settled down, mostly.

I tend to sail conservatively when on passage as I do not want to put excessive stress on boat and crew. To that end I subscribe to “reef early and often” and have the boat set up so that the process goes quickly.   

The process of reefing goes like this…

The first step is to release the boom vang so that the end of the boom goes up which takes pressure off the back of the sail, the leach.

I adjust the autopilot to head up more into the wind, generally 30 to 40 degrees.  This gets the sail luffing as the pressure of the wind is less.  Then it comes down smoothly which makes it easier to tension the luff (front) and pull in the leech (back) as we reduce sail area. 

The main halyard is marked with a single black mark at first reef, two for the second and three for the third so all I need to do is to drop it until the appropriate mark on the halyard lines up with the line break/clutch.   This sets the head of the sail up properly so I can pull the foot down and secure the luff, front, and the leech, back. 

Next, I hand pull in the luff reef line in as much as I can and then use the winch to pull in the last foot so that the bottom of the sail  is the right height off of the boom.  Again, that line is marked and while I generally know when it is properly tensioned I take a look to be sure that it looks right without any odd wrinkles in the sail indicating stress on the fabric.

I pull in the leech, the back of the sail, as much as I can by hand and then bring it in the last few feet with the winch.  The loads on this line are alarming and I am always worried that something is going to break.  

As with all heavily loaded lines great care is needed and I can generally hear when the electric winches are overloaded, something that is not obvious to someone who is not intimate with the boat.

I recall the first time I furled the big code zero, when I was new to the boat, accidentally pulling on the wrong line with the power winch and ripping the line right out of the furling drum.  At the time I was not tuned to the sounds of the winch when it has too much load to be safe.   I learned my lesson.

Finally, I take the slack out of the remaining reefing lines to be sure that they do not get tangled, wrap around the end of the boom or catch on something.  Left hanging and they can catch on something like the hatches in the dodger and rip it off, which has happened twice.

Once all lines are secure and everything is properly set I pull the vang back down to a position so the boom is roughly parallel with the deck. 

And finally, bring the boat back down to the prior course. 

All of this takes about ten minutes and can be done easily in the dark with a red headlamp.  I generally do not let crew do this as there are just too many opportunities to break stuff and I would rather be the one that messes up if things go badly.   

It took a lot of practice to get everything set up in a way that makes the process smooth.  The right sort of slippery reefing lines, marking the lines so I know when they are in the right place and other more subtle issues like how the winch sounds under load took some experience to get right.

The reefing setup was not quite right when I purchased the boat and it was not until I had a rigger look at it that I was able to get it to a point where I felt that the process would reliably go smoothly.

The forecast predicts that we will hit stronger winds over the next 12 hours, increasing to the low to mid 20s with gusts up to 30kts.  That is a lot of wind but the good news is that these peak winds are expected to be during daylight hours and should subside largely before it gets dark.

Once the winds get lighter, we will be in prime orca “play area” so that should be fun too.

As slow as the first half of the run was, the second is certainly faster and sometimes downright sporty but overall, it has been a reasonable passage.

Having said that, I would be lying if I said that I will be sad to see my voyage from Trinidad to Spain come to an end.  I have had more than enough sailing for now having been underway for two and a half months which is more than enough for one season. 

But as they say, “you have to do what you have to do” and getting Pandora to the Med was necessary to allow us to do some exploration over the next few years. 

After so much advance planning and so many days at sea since Trinidad, it is a bit surreal to realize that, if all goes well, in perhaps 36 hours my first transatlantic voyage will be completed.

With the looming orca “issues” ahead of us tomorrow, I do not know if I will take time to do another post but for sure, once we make landfall, hopefully late on Wednesday, there will be more to tell and I am hoping that my next post will not be all about orcas.   

A lot has gone into making this trip beginning more than ten years ago when an offhand comment by my dad “Bob, wouldn’t it be great to take Pandora through the Strait of Gibraltar?” planted the seed. 

Of course, that is not all of it but making my way past the “rock” will cap off a number journeys that have brought me here not the least of which was starting this blog more than 15 years and 1,200 posts ago which I started to share our journeys with Dad and Mom. 

And I continue to type away in my “office” aboard Pandora.

If you are curious about how my blog came to be, check out “why I keep this blog” at the top of this page.  It has been a long journey and perhaps, in some ways, it is just getting started.

For now, the seas seem to be settling down but I have no illusion that it is going to be smooth sailing for the next 24 hours with winds piping up between us and the Strait of Gibraltar.

Here is to the last mile or at least the last 36 hours. 

Wish me luck. 

For me, the hardest part of passagemaking is when the winds are unfavorable, either not enough wind, too much or from the wrong direction.  On this passage the wind has been very light which has slowed us down a lot. It has been quite frustrating to slowly motor sail much of the time.

Fortunately, with a bit more than 400nm left to go, Things are improving as the wind has gradually increased so, with brief lulls, we have been sailing well for the last day so I am happy.  As we get closer to Portugal, we will likely have too much of a good thing but at least we will be moving toward Gibraltar at a good clip.  

We cannot see Gibraltar yet but I am sure that it is out there somewhere…

Pandora has a distinctive hum when she reaches 7kts and I am hearing that welcome sound a lot now and the weather files from this morning predict that we will have fair winds for the remainder of the run.  

Sails setting nicely in 15kts.

It is hard to believe that with 400nm more to go it seems like we are “almost there” but after more than 4,000nm under Pandora’s keel since departing Trinidad more than two months ago I do feel like we are getting close.

Of course, “arriving” assumes that we do not run into any delays (orcas).  I checked www.orcas.pt again today and no new attacks have been logged.  I am not particularly superstitious but I am unwilling to predict that we will make it through without incident.  Although, I am counting on it.

Originally, I had anticipated arriving in Gibraltar late on Tuesday afternoon but now it looks like making landfall late on Wednesday or very early on Thursday morning is more realistic.  With some luck we will be able to make it to the entrance of the harbor during daylight but it is more likely that we will be picking our way into the harbor in the dark.

I contacted the marina to ask if there might be a place in the marina to tie up after dark but was told that they close off the marina and that I would have to anchor nearby, north of the marina and come in the next day.

He said something about “putting up the boom” as a reason that I was unable to enter after hours.    I guess that is some sort of barrier in the marina but who knows.

I have heard that with the north coast of Africa so close; a fair amount of smuggling goes on with small craft making the run into the harbor at night and unloading on the beach.  Perhaps the boom is about deterring small craft from entering the marina.

I am looking forward to being in Gibraltar for a few days and am really interested in making a trek up to the top of the rock, an image that has been with me since I was a kid watching “Mutual of Omaha Wild Kingdom” with the famous Rock of Gibraltar predominantly featured at the beginning of the show. 

I understand that there are resident monkeys on the mountain and that they are quite adept at snagging items, especially food, from unaware visitors. 

Based on the wind predications that are forecasting strong easterly winds between Gibraltar and Almeria, I expect that we will spend three days or so in Gibraltar before being able to move east. 

Down below, a bit of a mess, in cruising mode.

Of course, Peter and Steve playing cards. 

Peter

Steve

Our wake streaming to the west and it’s all downhill, in a good way I hope, to Gibraltar. 

It is hard to believe that once I make landfall in Gibraltar that I will have been aboard or underway with Pandora for more than 2 ½ months, beginning when I left Trinidad on May 4^th.  Along the way I visited more than a dozen countries, made crew changes 4 times, 5 if you count Brenda, sailed with a total of 8 individual crew members covering 4,500 nautical miles. 

Just for fun, down below when Pandora is rigged for a nighttime run.

And all that sailing included more “fixing broken stuff” along the way, than I want to think about.  And who can forget the root canal I had done in St Marten? 

With about half of the 1,000 miles from the Azores to Gibraltar under our keel, my thoughts turn to the “last mile “where we will possibly encounter the dreaded orca.

I have written a good deal about the orca menace and their attacks on pleasure boats along the coast of Portugal and the waters around Gibraltar and am very focused on trying to avoid becoming a statistic.   

For the last few years there have been many incidents where orcas bit/broke off the rudders of cruising sailboats, rammed the hull and in a few cases, sunk boats.

There are several websites focused on chronicling these incidents including www.orcas.pt.  On that site you can select a time period and see how many sightings and attacks there are in any given area.

This image shows a years’ worth of sightings for 2024 (in blue) and “incidents” (in red). Yikes!

Incidents in July and August of last year.  Still a lot… but mostly up north.

Looking at just the last three weeks, sightings and incidents.  Not so much.  I am encouraged.

And finally, hits on boats in the last three weeks. Not terrible, unless it’s you…

Having personally met two skippers over the winter that were attacked certainly brings home the scale of the risk.

Nobody really knows why orcas hit sailboat rudders but the leading theory is that the are doing this for sport and that the number of orcas involved in this sort of behavior is quite limited. 

There is also evidence that this behavior is being “taught” by a small number of adult females.  Yet another example of bad behavior among young males being encouraged by women. Just sayin…

The primary food source of orcas in this area is tuna and a leading theory is that the matriarch is encouraging juveniles and adolescents to “practice” catching tuna by going after the rudders of boats.

Early in the spring the risk of attack in the area near Gibraltar and southern Portugal is at it’s peak but as the season progresses, many of the orcas move north, following the tuna, up the coast of Portugal so the threat on the south coast of Portugal and near Gibraltar is less during the summer months.

Additionally, most reports of sightings are near the southern coast of Portugal and less far offshore between Portugal and Morocco.  That area, about 100 miles from shore is also where the commercial shipping lanes are located and my plan is to transit that area. 

Much advice is shared on Facebook and other resources on how to deter attacks such as sticking a metal pole in the water and hitting it with a hammer.  Dumping gasoline over the side, tossing sand in their path and even tossing big firecrackers into the water.

One of the most popular though is to tow an acoustic device that is supposed to repel them.  Sadly, the one that I ordered never arrived in the Azores before I departed.   I have written all about this but alas, I will never know if it would have worked.

Of course, none of the active approaches that involve deterring them will work unless you can see them coming and it is not uncommon for them to hit the boat before the crew is even aware that they are in the area, especially in the dark.

I heard of one report recently where the boat was hit so hard that it turned 360 degrees in its own length and many “victims” have reported steering linkages being broken.   It is advised to disengage the autopilot, turn on the engine and go as fast as possible away from them but also being careful to release the wheel so as not to be injured when it is yanked violently. 

It is hard to comprehend the power of one of these animals that weigh thousands of pounds.

If my steering gear is damaged, I have an emergency tiller that will allow me to steer the boat and I also had an auxiliary tiller fabricated for my wind vane steering as a backup of a backup.   

This whole thing is quite unsettling and all I can hope is that we are not one of the unlucky few that sustain real damage and that we can pass through the area with a minimum of fuss.

So, here we are, half of the way to our destination and as I noted in a recent post, “everything on a cruising boat is broken, you just don’t know it yet.”  I sure hope that does not include my rudder at the hands, or should I say mouth, of an excited adolescent orca.

So, to the question of “do orcas bite?” the answer, sadly is yes.  But for me, the real question is if they will bite Pandora. 

Oh, I sure hope not…

Details to come…