Accidents, Injuries and Repairs

They say that accidents occur as a result of a series of errors; this was certainly true when Tad slipped off the top deck in the process of giving “Bisou” a good scrub in Gibraltar prior to a planned departure for Morocco the next day.  I was down below doing something domestic when I heard an almighty crash on the deck above, and some voices saying “Are you alright?” I raced up to the main deck to see Tad splayed out on his back groaning.  Some passers-by had seen him fall and came to check on him.  It seems that two errors of judgement had led to this accident: 1. Although he always wears deck shoes on board, today Tad had decided not to (bare feet are very slippery where soap and water and gel coat are concerned). 2. The boom was moved to one side, over the top of our helm station bimini and Tad had not moved it back to the centre of the boat.  What had happened was,  full of water and soap, washing down the deck, Tad had reached far across the bimini to scrub the solar panel on top and his feet had slipped out from under him, causing him to crash down onto the top deck and from there slide down and fall onto the main deck, with his lower back hitting a hatch cover.  Needless to say, he was not a happy camper!

Out came the arnica spray, comfrey lotion and the ice pack and I set to work!  I felt that Tad should go to the hospital and get an x-ray or at least see a physio or chiropractor, but being a man, of course he said no!  Our departure for Morocco was postponed and the next few days were spent with me running around doing errands (I did finish washing the boat that day) while Tad rested himself and tried to get a decent night’s sleep with the aid of anti-inflammatory tablets.

It’s one of those things where you say “If I had worn shoes” or “If I had moved the boom across so that I didn’t have to reach so far” but it was too late.  The damage had been done!

Still, five days later Tad declared himself well enough to head north (we abandoned the idea of Morocco for the time-being) so off we set.  There was little wind as we left the Straits of Gibraltar and headed into the Mediterranean Sea.  We had planned on a long stretch as far as Cabo de Palos, with an option to either head to Formentera at that stage or head into an anchorage for the night, depending on the weather.  As it turned out, it was just as well that we had the ‘escape hatch’ of Cabo de Palos since the wind ended up rising to double the predicted strength on the second afternoon out.  With 40 knots (plus) of wind, and 4 metre seas, we were both exhausted by the time we reached Cabo de Palos at about midnight and decided to turn into a protected anchorage just to the north of the cape.

While lifting the anchor hatch, unfortunately injury #2 occurred – I bent over and my lower back went into spasm.  If you have ever had a lower back injury or a severe muscle spasm in your back, you will understand the excruciating and debilitating pain that erupts suddenly and just about knocks you off your feet.   Luckily, although I had not experienced this for over 20 years, I did have this happen before and knew what to do.  But first I had to get the anchor down and in place, which I did, and then got ice onto my lower back as quickly as possible and took arnica!  Now there were two of us with back injuries on a boat in the middle of nowhere (well, at least not in a marina!)  By this time it was getting on to 1:30am and we needed to get to bed – we both took extra-strength ibuprofen and went to sleep. 

We woke to a spectacularly clear and still morning to find that we were in a lovely spot off a beach.  My problem was that I could barely move – I had to get up to use the loo and just about fainted in the bathroom I was in so much pain.  So it was back to bed for me, while Tad got us underway and up to where we knew there was a secure anchorage for all weather conditions.

It was at this point that we experienced ‘accident’ #3. Not so much of an accident as a malfunction or damage really.  Tad had decided to run the watermaker while we were underway (we usually run it when the engine is on as we never like to miss an opportunity to top up our water supply) and it was humming away nicely in the background (the pump and the saltwater intake are in the bilge near our bathroom/head); I lay on the bed in a semi-doze when I suddenly heard a sound like air being let out of a tyre at high pressure.  I leapt out of bed (how do you do that with an excruciating back spasm?  Adrenaline!) and saw water squirting out of the hose from the pump leading to the watermaker.  I ran up to the instrument panel, turned off the watermaker and then back down to the bilge to shut off the sea-cock (valve to the hose leading from the seawater intake to the pump).  To Tad’s surprise I appeared at the helm station standing, to inform him that we had a ruptured hose in the watermaker system and then went back to bed.

To spare you the long and boring details, here is what then transpired in brief: the wrong type of hose had been installed by the mechanics in La Rochelle who were responsible for installing our watermaker and a new hose had to be ordered and sent to us in Mar Menor.  The problem was, as we were at anchor, we had no fixed address.  We took the dinghy into Puerto Tomas Maestre at Manga Mar Menor and asked them if they would accept a FedEx package on our behalf.  Initially they balked, explaining that they had a marina full of people they needed to look after and couldn’t be accepting packages from random people such as ourselves, etc.  but eventually, somewhat reluctantly agreed.  This was Tuesday and we hoped we would have the hose by Thursday at the latest.

Stalled in a rather lovely place, we decided to make the most of our unanticipated stopover and really relax, heal our backs and take things as they came (the best way when cruising, really).  We made forays into the marina to park our dinghy and go shopping at the local (rather well-stocked and well-priced) supermarkets, the chandleries (hopelessly under-stocked and open at random times not commensurate with the hours detailed on their doors), and enjoyed a few meals at the local restaurants.  One lucky find was the grassed areas to the west of the row of holiday apartments along the promenade, just southwest of the marina.  This area, supposedly ‘reserved’ for the patrons of the apartments, is a lovely area to sunbathe and, as we discovered to our delight, enjoy a massage from a ‘mobile therapist’. This nomenclature is rather tongue-in-cheek as these two or three gentlemen are generally of oriental origin (two of them were from Shanghai, China) and although they carry around a Chinese book showing acupressure points and meridians, I doubt that they went much beyond looking at the photos and ‘educating’ themselves thus!  However, both Tad and I thought that a massage would do us a great deal of good and so we indulged over the next few days.  The water was very warm and although plenty of jellyfish were in the area, the beach near the promenade was netted so they didn’t tend to come in.  Apparently these particular jellyfish (Cotylorhiza tuberculata) are not vicious stingers but we both made sure to steer clear of them when we saw them!

The suitable repair hose finally arrived late Friday afternoon (how it took 4 full days to get from France to Spain by FedEx is beyond me), and Saturday morning was spent installing it with great success!  We had watermaking capabilities once again!  You don’t realize how accustomed you become to having fresh water literally ‘on tap’ without having to enter a marina to fill up.  Plus the fact that desalinated water tastes so much better than chlorinated tap water from the town!  Our solar power capability allows us to make water even without the engine running so we can literally make water anywhere at any time (although generally we choose not to make it where the water is not reasonably ‘clean’ so as to not clog our filter.

 Ruptured hose from pump to water maker - wrong type of hose - no wonder!

Tad having a massage on the grass at Mar Menor (Puerto Tomas Maestre)

Gibraltar 3

The monkeys of Gibraltar love to pose for photos!

The cable car to the Top of The Rock

View of Queensway Quay Marina from the top

The monkeys that inhabit The Rock are very entertaining – you are warned with signs at the top that you may not feed them and should not approach them as they may bite.  However, they have also learned that people carry food in plastic bags and if you happen to be either carrying a plastic bag or have one in your purse (or even something that looks or sounds like a plastic bag) you will have monkeys all over you.  The older monkeys are well known the to the locals and the ‘main’ ones have their photo and name as well as description posted on the wall at the top cable car station (like a mug shot!).  Their mischievous ways and their tricks for relieving tourists of their belongings are outlined and it’s amazing what they will do to get treats.  One German lady who seemed oblivious to the monkeys as she entered the cafeteria area at the top, held the door open for her friend and two monkeys raced inside, grabbed as many packets of chips as they could hold and then ran outside again before anyone could do anything!

Ironically, the guides who take vans of tourists up The Rock (rather than take the cable car and walk around at the top) have ‘their’ monkeys, which they have ‘trained’ to come to them so that tourists can have their photo taken with a monkey.  I was rather horrified to watch one guide feeding ‘his’ monkey with peanut M&Ms!  He had the monkey sit on one young boy’s arms so the parents could take photos!

We wondered whether the monkeys came down from The Rock at all and were pleased to see some in a park not far from the main square in town – again in the process of trying to steal plastic bags from families sitting on the grass!  We also saw some at the local rubbish dump feasting on fruit and who knows what else, having torn apart the garbage bags.

Gibraltar monkey enjoying the buffet of garbage

Another activity which we have enjoyed is visiting the beaches in the area – we have been to three and they are all different.  Naturally, the sand is not the quality that we have been spoiled with in Australia, but they seem to groom the beaches so that there is little rubbish.  The water has been universally COLD so far, however, so dips in the sea are limited to a few minutes at a time (well, for me anyway).  The beaches are crowded and everyone has an umbrella, chairs and various other acoutrements to keep them comfortable for a full day.  Sadly, many of the children are obese, as are their parents.  This seems to be more and more common in Spain and although one local that I spoke to said that most Gibraltarians are healthy and fit, we have not found this to be the case.  Soft drinks, sugary foods and of course ‘fast food’ chains such as Burger King are causing real problems.

Eastern Beach in Gibraltar

Gibraltarians are an interesting people – they do not identify as British, but neither are they Spanish.  They have a unique accent when speaking English that is a little like people from Wales or North-Western England; they also speak a combination of Spanish and English when chatting with each other that is quite amazing.  It’s mostly Spanish, interspersed with English words and phrases.  Everyone does speak to you in English, though, when you are in a shop or restaurant, even if you do try to speak in Spanish.  They have obviously been told that English is the ‘national’ language and that is what will be used!

While in Gibraltar we have enjoyed celebrating 4th of July, watching various World Cup Soccer games at a variety of venues (including the final - congratulations Germany!), the celebration of diversity in Gibraltar (their version of "Pride"), summer music festival and meeting interesting and fun people.  It's a fascinating place and one in which we never could have imagined spending almost two weeks.  Admittedly, we have not been exactly rushing around, but at the same time, it's been a real treat being able to finally relax without the Schengen clock ticking and not having to watch for weather windows.  Of course, now we are ready to move on, the winds are not co-operating…that's cruising for you!

Celebrating 4th of July with frozen margaritas

Gibraltar 2

We have explored Gibraltar from top to bottom on foot and on our bicycles – we took the cable car to the top of The Rock, with our bikes (folded as they do not allow bicycles normally) and had a great day out riding and walking around seeing all the sights.  For such a tiny piece of land, Gibraltar has had a fascinating history (the first Neanderthal skull was found in a cave here), and there are many little places to visit.  The local museum is well done and has a wonderful collection of items from ancient times to modern.  Most places and items of historical interest are well-labeled with placards containing explanations, and almost all are easily accessible.

                                                   A typical street sign in Gibraltar

                                         The "first" cannon in the Siege Tunnels of The Rock

                                     Europa Point Lighthouse at the southern tip of Gibraltar

The main street through the centre of town is closed to traffic which means that you cannot cycle through it – we walk our bikes, though, as it is the shortest way to get to either the other side of the peninsula or to the border.  As Gibraltar is a tax-free area the majority of the shops sell liquor, wine and tobacco, as well as watches and jewelry but there are also the usual British retailers like Marks and Spencers, Top Shop, Mango (and probably more but I am not a shopper and therefore didn’t spend a great deal of time investigating).  There is a huge supermarket called “Morrisons” which has everything British in the way of food items including meat imported from the UK.  What I found rather curious was why people would prefer frozen or imported meat to the delicious locally-grown meat from Spain? Still, it was nice to be able to stock up on things like brown sugar, baking powder, tortillas/flat bread and a few other things we hadn’t been able to find in France, Spain or Portugal.

On chatting with some of our fellow marina residents, we discovered the ease with which one can ‘duck into’ Spain across the border.  Somewhat nervous about our Schengen situation I was the first to venture across using my Canadian passport (in case they decided to stamp me into Spain or out of Gibraltar).  Interestingly, you walk/ride/drive across the airport runway (which is oriented east-west across the isthmus that joins Gibraltar to Spain) to the frontier.  Here, the cars/buses/motorcycles and bicycles are directed to a queue for inspection.  The pedestrians (the majority as it is much easier and faster) simply walk past a booth waving their id (passports or other identification) at the Spanish immigration person, and then go through a customs area where some people are questioned about their purchases in Gibraltar but most just walk through – a process which takes about 2 minutes – and then you are in Spain!  No stamps, no worries!  On the way back, the Spanish are nowhere to be seen and the Gibraltar immigration officer has a look at the main page of your passport and off you go!

The first impression of La Linea (the town that borders Gibraltar) is how rundown and shabby it appears.  The border area really is a no-man’s land of unfinished buildings, tenement apartment buildings housing the Spanish who work in Gibraltar, and a park which no one seems to go to.  A short walk later and you are in the town of La Linea which is rather cute with a pedestrian shopping street and what I like to call an ‘eat street’ – these are typical in the towns of Spain where the whole street is closed to traffic and there is one restaurant after the other with their tables set out on the pedestrian way.  Lunch time and evenings these are packed with families, friends and all ages and stages eating and drinking the local specialties and it’s a wonderful atmosphere.

My first mission to La Linea was to investigate the supermarket and see what I could find in the way of fresh produce and meat as well as other bits and pieces.  I was thrilled to find not only a well-stocked (and well-priced) supermarket, but also that there was a market every morning as well as a market day (with outdoor stalls selling clothing, footwear and much more) on Wednesdays.  Tad has accused me of single-handedly trying to boost the Spanish economy as I have gone to Spain almost every day since being in Gibraltar and never come back empty handed!  The thing is, the fresh produce is so nice and the prices are so reasonable – the same goes for the clothes, sandals, etc.  Gibraltar is lovely and has some nice shops but everything is priced in English/Gibraltar pounds!  So what you would spend in Europe in euros is priced the same but in pounds.  For example, a main course of food (a HUGE platter in Spain) might cost 7 or 8 euros in Spain, but costs 7 or 8 pounds in Gibraltar.  This can add up as it adds about 30% to your bill.  Once I realized how easy it was to cross the border, I became a regular visitor to Spain and Tad joined me on one occasion.

The hard-to-find Camping Gaz bottle!

One of the items that has proved a challenge to find is a supply of butane for our stove and BBQ – apparently Gibraltar is not licensed to sell gas canisters for some reason, so you have to go to Spain. Well, that’s all very well, but the type of canisters that they sell at the petrol stations are not what we have purchased for our trip. Let me explain: in France, we were advised to buy the blue steel ‘camping gaz’ brand of butane bottles for our cruise through Europe, for the simple reason that they can theoretically be either purchased or refilled pretty much everywhere.  The problem is that the largest ‘bottle’ or canister is only about 5kg. Now butane burns hotter than LPG so you use less, but as we cook our dinner either on the stove or the BBQ almost every night, even butane gets used up.  The French have a larger bottle made from fiberglass which they use, but we were told that we would not be able to get it filled so there wasn’t much point in buying them.  We decided to buy two blue camping gaz canisters in France, thinking that we should have no problem getting them filled or replaced.  Well, we haven’t needed to until now – and of course we now cannot get them in Gibraltar!  On my last foray to La Linea, I finally found a place    that sold them but was informed by the lady in the shop that they had sold out and wouldn’t have any more until tomorrow!  Not a problem normally, only that we were hoping to head to Morocco for a few days before venturing north into the Mediterranean!  No one else in the area supplied the camping gaz type of butane and as we already had the hoses and regulators for these, there was no point in trying to switch over.  The irony is that the same large canisters that we might have purchased in France are widely available at all petrol stations in Spain AND as they are so large, chances are that we wouldn’t have needed to refill them anyway if we had two!

Gibraltar 1

                                                                     Flag of Gibraltar

Apologies to everyone who has been holding out for the next instalment of my blog – we have now been in Gibraltar for 10 days (and counting) and have become far too relaxed and really rather lazy.  I do have to mention, however, that one of our fellow cruisers here in the marina, who has been sailing for some years now says that he does “one job per day” and once that is finished he feels that he has accomplished something!  We have been going to bed late, rising later and eating and drinking and socialising way too much (is there such thing?).

In the meantime, we have been using our bicycles almost every day, doing a huge amount of walking and of course exploring and sight-seeing.

We had a smooth ride into the Straits of Gibraltar with some fantastic coastal scenery on either side (although we were close to the Spanish side, we could see Morocco quite clearly).  As we had been warned, by late afternoon the wind picked up and soon we had only the genoa up and were making over 8 knots of speed!  Of course this whipped up the sea as well so that by the time we entered the Bay of Gibraltar, it was windy and wavy.  The area was littered with tankers, freighters, ferries coming and going and all sorts of pleasure boats.  It’s really not a place you want to be moving through at night or in a fog with a small (relatively speaking) pleasure boat such as Bisou.

We found the gap in the breakwater and then the entrance to the Queensway Quay Marina (very narrow and at a right angle so how the bigger boats get in and out is a mystery to me!) and were amazed at the complete lack of wind and wave action once inside.  To be fair, the marina is surrounded on all four sides by three or four-storey apartment buildings which contribute a great deal towards protecting the boats inside from wind and swell, but the feeling is open enough that you do not feel claustrophobic.  We proceeded to what we thought was the reception pontoon but were immediately directed towards the sea wall at the end of the marina which is lined with restaurants.  Thinking that this was where we would check-in, the attendant who assisted with our lines advised us that this was where they berthed catamarans of our size!  Fortunately we were able to lay alongside the sea wall, and so mooring was not a challenge (as it can be with ‘Mediterranean mooring’ using lazy lines elsewhere in the marina), but the disadvantages were that we had to use loose lines to compensate for the tides, and we were also completely exposed to passers-by as well as the diners at the restaurants a few metres away!  We do have sun shades which are semi-transparent from the inside out but completely opaque looking in, and we put these on our saloon windows as soon as we had Bisou secured.

It was my job to head over to the marina office and get us checked in (and thus ‘checked out’ of Schengen Europe – phew!).  To our utter embarrassment we realized only on approach to Gibraltar that we did not have either a UK nor a Gibraltar courtesy flag, but it seems that this must be a fairly regular occurrence as the marina office manager calmly handed me on when I mentioned this to her – of course it came with a fee, but at least we had one!  This was the first marina where we would be charged an additional cost for electricity and water but the marina fee was so reasonable we didn’t baulk.  In addition, we found that we really didn’t need to use the shore power at all as we have been able to charge our batteries sufficiently to meet our needs during the sun-filled days!  Tad was keen to give Bisou a good wash since we had not done so since A Coruna, so we agreed to pay for water (a penny a litre – it doesn’t sound much but it does add up!).

Our first meal ashore was in Gibraltar’s ‘oldest pub’ and sadly the food tasted like it!  We ate it anyway as we were tired and hungry and retreated to our bed for a good night’s sleep.

Over the next few days we assessed our situation, relieved to be somewhere that was not going to count down our Schengen clock, where they speak English (sort of) and in a reasonably priced marina.  Being against the seawall had its disadvantages (already mentioned) but in the scheme of things, it was easy to get on and off the boat, a conversation piece (lots of people have stopped by for a chat, taking photos, etc.), and of course great for people-watching!  We have had one or two evenings when the revelers at one or another of the nearby restaurants have had festivities that have continued into the wee hours but somehow we manage to fall asleep and not have too bad a time of it.

View of Gibraltar from the Top of The Rock

                   View of Bisou against the seawall in Queensway Quay Marina, Gibraltar