Some sailing some motoring... in the Med. We left Puerto Marina, Beenalmadena, Malaga last night ar 2000 and motored out into a flat sea, We are heading straight E either in calms of very light winds out of the ESE. We had a fabulous run wing on wing from Gibraltar to near Malaga doing an daveragespeen of 7kts. We were often surrounded by dolphins and jumping all over the place. We came into port that bight without charts and a very vague idea of the layout. Our crossing from Horta to Puerto Marina was 1267 logged miles in 9.5 days at an average speed of 133 kts. We were all tired and stressed out after the tension of the traffic during the 3 days before entering into the Straits. Once into the Straits, sailing on the S edge of the cargo lane the stress went way down. It picked up a bit whan we cut straight across both lanes to come under the Rock. Once into Puerto Marina we slept some, went through some very summery formalities, Esa packed up his mountain of stuff, Josh and co. came down and we went off to a calamary, sardine, gaspacho feast. Esa is off for home... I will greatly miss my sailing brother. Jean-Loup got on and we are now cooking along for the final push home. I was so wasted that I konked out for a long night of sleep, waking occationally to verify the route and see how JL was doing before crashing out again. I’m feeling a lot less edgy today. I washed all my dirty clothes: 2 t-shirts, a pair of shorts, a pair of leggings in salt water, with a fresh water rince. Esa getting off is a symbolic turning point in the trip. he wanted to go all the way but he had stretched his leave from family and office to the limit. This has been our trip from the beginning, we planned to sail the northern Atlantic, then came the accident, then the replanning for the northern route and then this crazy turn-around changing boats, changing the route, the climate, the timing... Esa has been right there all along, I have consulted him for all important and most unimportant decisions from the beginning up the the last minutes before his departure. I could not and would not have done this trip without him. The long watches from mid-night to 0600 were our favorite time for shooting the shit under the stars, readjusting the sails, pushing Naomi faster, smoother, closer to our goal. We have a very similar way of sailing, and also a very similar way of looking at life. Esa had the hardest jobs on board: seconding a maniac captain, organizing all the food, the main man out on the fore-dack. He was always there when I went out in shitty weather with the black tool bag to repair a ripped out kicker, an exploded main sail cam... A big kiss to you brother.
