Costa del Sol

A second time, our arrival in Spain was heralded by fireworks. Feria  was going on in Estapona, our first Spanish port on the Costa del Sol. Ever since Cadiz, we had heard about feria, a week-long party that goes on in many Spanish towns during the summer. Now, it was Estapona’s turn, and we had arrived on the climactic final day complete with fireworks and streets filled with people, drinks in hand. We were back in a drinking culture - quite a contrast with Morocco.

For the next couple of weeks, we will be in “move the boat” mode. We had had our reintroduction to Europe in Portugal and Cadiz and we had enjoyed cultural experiences in Gibraltar and Morocco. Now it’s time to move Windleblo to the next cruising ground, the Balearic Islands. In between are the Costas del Sol and Blanca.

With its endless beaches and reliable sunshine, millions of tourists are drawn to this coast every year. The effect is clear – densely packed resorts, strip developments and high rises, crowded beaches, and the noise of bars, restaurants, and clubs. The coastline is relatively featureless with few nature harbors, islands, or other interesting nooks and crannies to explore. Taking a break means pulling in to an artificial harbor with expensive berthing fees. The knowledge that the azure blue waters of the Balearics are so close gives added incentive to move along. Our objective is to hop along the coast in good time, completing the 300 miles between us and Ibiza in two weeks.

Like riding a bicycle, we have relearned shipboard life quickly. Once back aboard, it takes a bit of time to become reacquainted with life on a 40-foot sailboat. Sometimes the lessons are easy, like when you bump your head for the ten-thousandth time on the aft cabin entryway. (“Ouch, Charlie!”) We’ve posted a small plaque of St. Nicholas, the patron saint of sailors, just above the low spot as a reminder to bow upon passing. Other times the lessons are not so plain, like adjusting to one another’s need for privacy in close quarters. But within a week or so, the transition from land-based habits is well along.

Ever since we bought her, we are often complimented on our selection of a Hallberg-Rassy from among the many choices of fine cruising sailboats. The comments usually come from fellow boat owners who considered an HR when shopping for a boat themselves. Admiring her, they will say something like, “You have a very fine boat there. She could sail anywhere,” to which I usually respond, “Yes, she could. The only thing holding her back is her crew” (including myself as part of the crew of course).

Certainly, seamanship skill levels make a huge difference in how the crew performs. But perhaps more important is the crew’s psychological state. Often called morale, this delicate condition is an amalgam of the influences of the captain’s leadership, each crew member’s attitude, and something intangible called “chemistry.” When right, everything clicks and everybody is a happy camper. When not right, life aboard is intolerable and a boat can become the Sloop John B. the Beach Boys sang about. (“This is the worst trip I’ve ever been on…. Let me go home.”)

So what makes for a happy boat?

Just as corporate culture mirrors executive ethics, shipboard life reflects the captain’s personality. A Type A captain will have a mirthless work-before-play crew that never relaxes. Crew on a boat with a Jimmy Buffett-type skipper will yuck it up from dawn ‘til dusk, hair down all the while. In terms of bottom line outcomes no one can say either style is better than the other. Corporations operating under bottom up consensus building can be just as profitable as those run top down by command and control. And Type A captained ships get safely from Port A to Port B, but so do Parrot Headed boats. But in each case, the captain’s approach -- his manner, his attitude, how he communicates, and how he carries himself – creates the atmosphere.

While the captain sets the tone for shipboard life, each crew member contributes to the mix. This begins with his or her motivations for being on board in the first place. Is it to continue a life-long passion or try sailing for the first time? Is it to practice seamanship or to party? Is it to observe or to participate? Regardless, once on board only one outcome matters – the safe delivery of the boat and the crew to the appointed destination. Everyone must put the boat first.

When I say “put the boat first,” what I really mean is “put your personal interests second.” You’ve heard the phrase, there is no “I” in team. Well, there is no “I” in crew either. Committing oneself to the boat and fellow crew members is a prerequisite for creating a positive atmosphere on board. Like a marriage where each partner bends 110% toward the other to keep the relationship healthy, when everyone aboard makes the boat’s mission and their shipmates’ interests primary things go well. When even just one crew member is not totally committed, relationships get strained and everyone’s experience suffers.

Given that the main mission of a cruising sailboat is to have fun, you would think everyone would easily be on the same page when it comes to crew motivations and interests. But even with this simple mission, sometimes life on a small boat where everyone is in everyone’s face 24/7 can cause small perturbations between people to escalate or rankle. In the orientation briefing for newly arrived crew, we have learned to make several needs clear concerning life aboard: 1.) the need to put the boat first, 2.) the need to have enough self-awareness to recognize your impact on the atmosphere on board, 3.) the need to have regular “check-ins” on how we are relating to each other, and 4.) the need to take on any stresses in relationships right away before they become bigger issues.

Yes, making sure the refrigerator is stocked and the berths are kept in fresh bedding is important. But creating a positive atmosphere aboard and tending to the care and feeding of everyone’s psychological state is perhaps the greatest challenge to keeping a happy ship.

Making anywhere from 20 to 60 nautical miles a day, we worked our way up the Costas del Sol and Blanca. We were joined by friends from Granada, Isa and Don Luther, for the leg from Almeria to Cartagena, enjoying two delightful sails and playing tourist in Cartagena. As a reward for moving so far so fast, Jocelyn and I continued our layover in Cartagena for several more days after Don and Isa returned to Granada before sailing to Alicante to meet Luna and Philip Dear, our new crew for the start of the Balearics.

Before dawn on July 21^st, we sailed east away from mainland Europe. Our destination – Ibiza. We were island people now.

Cartagena Plaza

Cartagena Teatro Romano

Alicante Skyline