The Pillars of Hercules

We have moved for the first time in six months and it feels strange. Although Rota had become our home it was time to make the break. We shall miss this dear town but are looking forward to savouring pastures new.

We sailed south towards the Straits of Gibraltar passing Cadiz and Cape Trafalgar, the site of Nelson’s famous victory over the Spanish and the French fleets. This called for the customary salute of dipping the ensign and drinking a tot!

We hugged Tarifa point, the south westernmost tip of Spain and sailed parallel to the lush coastal slopes of the Spanish hills and saw Puffins flying north having wintered in Morocco. With Gibraltar abeam we laid a course directly for Ceuta under full sail and a fresh breeze and enjoyed two hours of tremendous sailing directly between the legendary ‘Pillars of Hercules, Calpe or the Rock of Gibraltar and Abyla or Ceuta, two rocks separating not only the narrow stretch of disturbed water between widely differing continents but also the landlocked Mediterranean sea and the massive open Atlantic Ocean. Another opinion has it that the Pillar on the North African side is Mount Jbel Musa. It matters not but at the time this was the edge of the known world and possibly the site of Hades!
When Hercules was on his tenth labour one version has it that he found Africa and Europe joined and so he forced them apart to form the Straits. Another version has it that he found the continents too far apart and so closed the gap to keep out the monsters. Either way he raised the two pillars to commemorate his achievement. On either side of the entrance to Ceuta Harbour stands an impressive bronze statue, one showing Hercules pushing apart the pillars and the other him pulling them together.

I hope our dear friend Gwyneth Lewis will forgive me quoting an interesting passage from her delightfully moving and witty book ‘Two in a Boat’, The True Story of a Marital Rite of Passage’, a must read for those contemplating a long journey at close quarters.’…These two rocky mountains, facing one another across such a narrow stretch of water, appeared as twin columns on the design of the early pieces of eight shipped to Spain from South America. Later, these were transformed into the parallel lines down the S of the American dollar sign, representing the gateway between the old word and the new…. Thus, the Pillars of Hercules are at the symbolic centre of the global capitalist economy…’

Disturbed waters they are in the Straits for, as well as the tide ebbing and flowing as usual, there is a continual east going current because the sea level at the Atlantic end of the Straits is about a metre higher than that at the Mediterranean end due to massive evaporation from the Mediterranean that is not being replenished by rainfall from rivers. With an average width of the Straits of about 7 miles there is about 1,000,000 cubic meters of water per second flowing into the Mediterranean. Ceuta, although a colonial Spanish enclave on the northeastern tip of Morocco in North Africa, does have an Arab flavour witnessed by the dress of a significant minority and the service of non-alcoholic beer in some cafes. The town possesses grand buildings and squares filled with splashing fountains, colourful flowers and exotic trees. There are wonderful views over the Mediterranean to Gibraltar and the Hills of Spain to the north and to the mountains of Morocco to the west and south.
Miggy. A PADI qualified diver, bought full Scuba diving kit in Ceuta at an amazingly discounted price. It is first class Italian gear and will not only give her pleasure but will be very useful in the event of underwater problems with Bella.

On our way to the Costa del Sol yelps of glee from Miggy heralded visits from Dolphins in the Straits. Four of them played around the bow for a while much to Miggy’s delight. We encountered a lone puffin sitting in the water and not flying away as we approached. Perhaps he was tired or had become lost on his way north. Good luck to the little fellow.
Estepona was our home for a few days while Mary and Peter Crowther, residents of nearby Sotogrande, entertained us royally in their home. They drove us to a Pueblo Blanco (white village) up in the Sierra Bermeja above Estepona called Casares. It is typical with white houses clinging to steep rock faces and a church and remains of a Moorish castle atop the hill. The difference with this particular village is that one side of the hill is a sheer rock face down which, in the fourteenth century, the enemy of the captors were hurled alive. Barbaric you may say but this practice was also employed in the nineteenth century during the Spanish Civil War.

The sixth of April was the first anniversary of our departure and Neal’s sixty first birthday. We celebrated both occasions in a bizarre place called Benaldamena, which was reminiscent of a Disney film set. Amongst the crowds and numerous food outlets from Japanese to Mexican we found a lovely Spanish restaurant that served us with beautiful garlic prawns, grilled asparagus and beautifully cooked fillet steaks.
Our sail along the Costa del Sol has taken us past those infamous English resorts of Fuengirola, Torremolinos and Malaga. I need say no more! We are now berthed in a Marina just east of Torre del Mar at a place called Caleta de Velez, which is surprisingly Spanish and has parakeets nesting in the palms and generally making a lot of noise. Miggy’s next broadcast on Radio Solent is at around 0630 on Wednesday the 25th April.