No more waves or tides

摘要

Aflume of cold salty spray hurtled towards me, whipped up by the wind and with increasing velocity as the bow of Nell (a 10m replica dutch sailing barge) dug deeply into a trough and then reared her proud head skywards.The sky was black and threatening. Down below, the moan of my wife was drowned by the smashing of crockery as it bounced over the top of the fiddle rails which were supposed to keep it in place.The engine spluttered and coughed as the sediment in the diesel tanks clogged the filters and the engine fought to suck in enough fuel. In the open cockpit, I was cold, salty, wet and miserable. Time to head for shelter. I glanced to my right and saw a breakwater being pounded by breaking waves and the yachts behind in the relative safety of its protection pitching and tossing as the swell swept into the harbour. The scene could be a description of entering Brighton Marina during an October gale but it was May and I was trying to seek shelter in Port Forum just to the north of Barcelona and it was the Mediterranean.