No shit, there we were…

The beginning of many a good sea story starts with these words ” No shit, there we were!”

This one goes on to say…. Pounding our way upwind with a double reefed main, Solent, in steep fast waves, crossing the Mediterranean Sea with our friends Lewie and Marie Wake, and Brenda and Rick Hall, who thought it would be so nice and serene to come island hop, stroll sandy beaches, fish between islands, and discover the nooks and crannies of the Balearic Island chain with us. Hah!

Our friends were thrown into the haze of left over giant stowaway Mosquitos from Ibiza coupled with non landlubber conditions. It was a choice to sail south to Cartagena instead of north to Barcelona to save mucho miles later and we stuck to it!

Feeling seasick is no fun. No fun at all.  The only real cure is to get off the damn boat. Or sleep. And we have a rule – No one leaves the boat until we are at a dock or anchorage.  This rule must be obeyed. No exceptions.

The good news? El Gato weathered it like a tiger. And no one threw up. Yet.  So far the only damage is one loose batten which is safely nestled in the reef, and blotchy completions from those pesky little blood suckers.

The bad news? We are not there yet.

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