The last 1700 nautical miles from Greece back to Portugal, via Tunisia and Spain, have been a wonderful end to my circumnavigation. But of course, it wasn’t without its challenges:
It was the end of May, and I had already sailed from Cyprus to Rhodes in small legs. Well, most of the time I was under engine power and only during the last 70 nautical miles did I get the wind. 25 – 35 knots straight on the nose!
That was exciting! It was the first time that the new rig was really put under load. I had built the entire thing by myself from start to finish. Of course, I had the end terminals wedged onto the wire by a shop, as I didn’t have the necessary machine. But I set the mast myself, aligned it, determined the mast drop (inclination of the mast to the stern), measured the shroud lengths and then adjusted the tension on the wires.
I usually have confidence in my abilities but looking back I know that I was still carrying the trauma of breaking the mast. It was no surprise that my nerves were on edge when the sails filled with wind for the first time, the boat healed over and a short time after, I even had to reef the sails heavily.
But everything held together!
It was also only in Greece, that I realized how all the stress and exhaustion of the last few months (Red Sea and boat refit) fell off me. I slept better and longer than I had for ages!
The light spring winds have already given way to the Meltemi, a north wind that blows constantly and strongly through the southern Cyclades during summer. If you take a look to the weather map, you can also see that the north wind in the very south of Greece is deflected to the NW to W by the land mass of Crete.
For us – I was sailing with a fellow sailor at the time – it was therefore not so easy to make our way west. We quickly made our first „evasive maneuver“ and made an unscheduled call at the island of Nisirios to wait for better wind conditions.
Together with our boat neighbors, we explored the island. We cruised along the coast on scooters before turning off towards the center of the island to find the volcanic crater. It wasn’t difficult and we could soon see how the vegetation was getting thinner and thinner. As soon as we crossed the edge of the crater, we smelled the sulphur and the road turned into a gravel track that led to a small bubbling pool – the actual “active” crater.
Back on the coast, we marveled at a unique sunset and then hurried back to the volcano. A Pink Floyd cover group played a live concert in the crater that night!
With the next good weather window, we left Nisirios the following day. Our destination was 86 nautical miles further west: Santorini!
We anchored in the south of the island over black sand. The bus ran every half hour to the capital Fira and when I was able to see over the crater rim and into the panorama of the island for the first time, I was literally speechless! It is unbelievably beautiful! – I had no choice but to sit down in a restaurant in Fira, drink a glass of wine and enjoy the view.
Together with my co-sailor, I continued on to Kalamata, in the south-western tip of Greece. The next six-day crossing to Tunisia, I then sailed single-handed again. I sailed past Sicily and Malta to Bizerte in the north of Tunisia.
It was a calm, relaxing crossing. I caught a nice tuna, but then let it swim again because it would have been far too big for me alone. I was able to read a lot and really enjoyed my time on the water.
In Tunisia, I was meeting with my buddy Sofien. He already was with me at the very beginning of the journey, when we drove from Schondorf to Portugal by car. We had also met up again in Panama and Costa Rica and had long talked about seeing each other again in Tunisia – Sofien’s home country – when the time would come. The timing couldn’t have been better:
His whole family; parents, siblings, cousins came to visit Tunisia and Sofien’s childhood friends were there as well. It was amazing to get to know everyone and to be able to experience the country with them in a very personal way.
We camped on the beach, went fishing and spearfishing, cooked a lot and, as a highlight, celebrated the engagement of Sofien’s sister and her boyfriend!
August 14th was set as the departure date. We were now only 900 nautical miles away from completing the circumnavigation and family and friends were expecting us in Lagos at the end of the month!
There were the two of us, but I had been thinking for a while about whether it wouldn’t be more relaxed to sail as a crew of three. When I asked Sofien if he knew anyone else who would be a good fit for us on the boat, he immediately thought of Layla: They had met two years earlier in Costa Rica. Layla was new to sailing at the time. She is a tattoo artist and runs two stores in Geneva, but since Costa Rica, sailing has also become a great passion and more than just a hobby.
Maybe it was fate. She had just finished a sailing job the day before we called and therefore there was nothing to stop her joining us on the boat! Shortly afterwards, the three of us set sail and sailed straight to Cartagena in Spain on the first passage.
Boy, did we have a good time! The fishing rod was always out on the way. We caught two or three tuna, which we turned into ceviche, steaks or sushi. We enjoyed the Mediterranean vibes in the Spanish ports and feasted our way from one brilliant meal to the next (both home-cooked and eating out).
The last challenge we had to overcome was the Strait of Gibraltar. The strait separates the European continent from the African continent. It is only around 14 kilometers wide and in good weather you can see all the way to the other side.
Due to the jet effect, a special relief of the sea bed and the different salt content of the Mediterranean and Atlantic, the currents running there should not be underestimated.
The passage is only recommended with an aft wind and timed so that the current caused by tides cancels out the continuously E-setting current. Otherwise, turbulence and steep waves when the wind is against current make the passage very uncomfortable, if not even dangerous. (more detailed information HERE)
In addition, orcas have been up to mischief and „attacking“ sailing boats off the coast of Spain, Portugal and Gibraltar for a good four years. The exact cause of these interactions is not yet clear. There are various theories, all of which could be possible.
Orcas are very intelligent animals and I personally consider two theories to be somewhat plausible:
- The orcas are having more and more problems finding food due to overfishing and increasing ship traffic, which creates a lot of noise under water. They are annoyed and know that boats/ships are responsible for their struggle. Sailboats are the weakest enemies and are therefore attacked first. They could also be attracted by the sound of the echo sounder, the vibration of the rudder and the autopilot. These frequencies can be heard for many miles under water.
- The orcas follow the schools of tuna to hunt. The older animals dive to great depths to find their prey. The young animals stay behind in the shallows and get bored. Well, and then they just do what bored youngsters do: nonsense; some tests of courage?
As I said, these are just two theories and just my ideas on the question „why?“. I don’t know. The fact is, however, that I wanted to avoid such encounters with these animals at all costs. In the case of my route, the simplest countermeasure was to sail in shallow water that was no deeper than 20 meters.
On the ORCAS.PT website, you can find lots of high-quality information on handling the animals and also a map showing the latest sightings and interactions.
We waited in the last harbor, about 11 nautical miles away, for a suitable weather window and calculated our exact departure time to round the southern tip of Gibraltar exactly when the current stalled.
As described in the Cruising Guide, a single plate-like cloud hung over the Monkey Mountain – a clear indication of wind from the east. We rounded the cape without any problems, sailed close to the coast and passed the Tarifa lighthouse just a stone’s throw away.
We made it back into the Atlantic.