Parasailor Dreams and Gibraltar Realities

Sept 25 – Classroom at the Dock

First thing this morning we repositioned into our mooring slot in the marina, squeezed in some laundry, and actually had a few minutes to breathe. Then came the big event: Parasailor training with Bjorne, who Ryan  had flown in from the Netherlands.

Today’s focus was theory and practice at the dock. We learned the do’s and don’ts—where to keep tension, where not to, and how to avoid the inevitable spaghetti tangle of lines. It’s amazing how even the “setup” is a whole workout in itself! When the wind picked up, the guys had their hands full, but still managed to hoist and douse the sail a couple of times (with the snuffer on of course).

Bravo, gentlemen!

First Lesson and Hoist of New Parasailor

Feeling accomplished after a long day, we tidied up …

Later that evening, it was then time to rewarded ourselves with a late dinner:

Tomorrow? Out into the bay to finally fly our new beauty. Ryan has been waiting a really long time for this moment.

Sept 26 – First Flight

We left the marina at 7:30am with fingers crossed for 12–15 knots. Naturally, the weather gods had a laugh: dead calm. Go figure—yesterday’s wind came at exactly the wrong time.

Still, we pushed on. Ryan and Byron worked through the setup and hoist with Bjorn’s guidance, while I kept Lucky Enough steady on a broad reach with an apparent wind angle between 120°–165°.

For those unfamiliar, a Parasailor is a specialized downwind sail—part spinnaker, part parachute—designed with a wing that stabilizes the sail and allows it to “breathe” through a vent. It’s brilliant for long passages because it reduces rolling, keeps the boat balanced, and makes downwind sailing faster, smoother, and far more comfortable (especially for the crew!). It’s often called the ultimate passage-maker’s sail, and we’ve been dreaming of flying one since we bought Lucky Enough.

And then—magic.

The Parasailor filled, flying proud and gorgeous.

Absolutely worth the wait.

Huge thanks to Bjorne for his expert guidance!

Sept 27 – Errands & Indulgence

Provisioning, laundry, and—best part—massages. Enough said.

Sept 28 – Champagne Sailing. 🍾

Leaving Aguadulce, we couldn’t resist showing off our new sail. In our excitement, we hoisted her a little early and had to creep uncomfortably close to shore (2.3 m depth!) to make the right angle. But once out of the bay, she flew beautifully—even close-hauled up to 59° AWA.

The day turned peaceful, picture-perfect.

By early evening, it was “champagne sailing” at its finest.

Sunset photos, videos, and grins all around.

Sept 29 – First Night Dowse

After 17 hours and 20 minutes of sailing our beautiful new parasailor, the wind finally died. At 5:26am, in the dark and with a large ship looming just 0.2 miles away, Ryan and Byron executed their very first night-time dowse. Like pros. Celebrations followed immediately—with a breakfast beer, naturally.

Engines on, we pushed the last seven hours into Gibraltar. Sure enough, the signature cloud over “the Rock” confirmed the Levante winds—a strong, humid easterly that funnels through the Strait of Gibraltar. It’s notorious among sailors for creating heavy seas and difficult conditions when exiting the Med into the Atlantic. But for us, seeing that “cap cloud” was actually reassuring: it meant the Levante was blowing with us, creating a valuable weather window to make our westward move.

Timing is everything here, and catching the Levante at the right moment can make the difference between a smooth exit and a punishing slog.

We fueled, docked on the Spanish side, and called it a night.

Sept 30 – A Walk Across the Runway

The boys hit the chandlery while I tagged along later with Ryan to the British side in search of more parts. Six miles of walking,

By evening, Roa—our Spanish deckhand for the Atlantic crossing—joined the crew. Welcome aboard, Roa!

 Oct 1 – Fireworks & Orcas

Roa wasted no time putting his local connections to work, even trying to secure fireworks as a potential deterrent for the Iberian orcas. (Yes, you read that right—fireworks. Apparently, orcas don’t like loud bangs either.) 💥

For context: since 2020, a subpopulation of orcas has been targeting sailboats in this region, ramming rudders and generally wreaking havoc on yachts like ours. Exactly the route we’re about to take. And it hit particularly close to home for us—when we entered the Med (see Season 1.9), we suffered extensive rudder damage. To this day, we don’t know whether it happened in the middle of the night by a pod of orcas, or if we were dealing with defective rudders and delamination. What we do know is that both rudders were completely taken out, which feels more than a little suspicious. All of that history makes us extra on edge now and laser-focused on being prepared in case we do meet an orca pod on our way out.

Meanwhile, I cooked all day while the guys debated departure timing. We provisioned, strategized, and agreed on a window between noon and 8pm tomorrow.

Her crew complete, our first leg to the Canary Islands would be over 600 nautical miles. Good Night for now. Tomorrow is the beginning of another exciting chapter!