Treat Nature with reverence
An old captain's advice to an aspiring ocean sailor and the assurance that everything ALWAYS sorts itself out.
Day 7: Motril, south of Spain. The journey out of the Mediterranean has transported me 3 years back in time to when I journeyed in. We’ve made roughly the same stops as we did when I sailed Falkor from Oslo to Barcelona in 2021, but in reverse: Ibiza, Cartagena, Cabo de Gata, and now Motril. Toño and Joaco are great crew members. Joaco has almost crashed his new drone a few times, but images of Falkor at sea are superb and create the illusion that we know what we’re doing. Aside from some unexpected gusts of gale sailing out from Cartagena that had us praying to Poseidon (ah, and reefing the sail), it’s been smooth sailing with a mix of engine and wind-powered thrust.
The Mediterranean is beautiful, but not the best for long-distance sailing, with choppy waters and winds coming, going, and changing direction continuously. It gets easier once we round Cabo de Gata, which has a beautiful white coastline and dry Andalucian landscapes.
In Motril, we meet a captain from Stavanger, my hometown in Norway. According to the port employees, he is almost 80 years but he looks like he is in his late 50s. This year, he sailed across the Atlantic and back, most of the time alone. “The best advice I can give you is to sail well below max power when you do long-distance cruising,” he tells me. Better to move a little slower but with margins. “And make sure that you treat Nature better than you treat anyone else!” It sounds like he has read the eco-philosophy of Næss and Zapffe.
He wants to sell me his wind pilot for a ridiculous amount of money, but I explain that I have to be careful with my finances since I am sailing without savings and on a hunch. “I respect that,” the captain says. “Through life, I have learned that everything works out in the end,” he adds. Trust the universe, I reflect.
