After Cabo de Gata one enters the Province of Murcia to sail along the 190 kilometres of the Costa Blanca or White Coast, so called because the light grey coastal rock appears white in the brilliant sunshine. Cartagena is one of the few natural harbours along this coast but, as well as being a large naval, commercial and fishing port of great antiquity, it is developing facilities for yachtsmen. It was here that Hannibal was supposed to have landed with his elephants and it was enjoyable to speculate that he might have seen these self same headlands that we were viewing as we sailed by.

Nearby is the lagoon of Mar Minor, a small inland sea some 20 kilometres in length, which is connected to the Mediterranean by a short canal. This we explored before heading first for Alicante and then for Calpe. Above left is a sketch made from an anchorage at Morayra. From the nearby Cabo San Antonio we made the crossing to the Balearic Islands.

The photograph, top left, shows us setting off on this twelve hour voyage, due east into the rising sun. Some two weeks were spent exploring the harbours and anchorages of Ibiza. As well as making a circumnavigation of the island we also visited the nearby Formentera before heading back for the mainland. The picture below depicts our departure from the main port of San Antonio and shows the distinctive rocky features that mark the approach to Ibiza.

On reaching the mainland we headed northwards, this time along the Costa del Azahar and Costa Dorada to Barcelona. We stopped at many small harbours en route and also navigated our way around the flat and treacherous Ebro Delta. Below shows us entering the harbour at Barcelona and sailing past the QE2 along with many other cruise liners moored there.

Out time in this city was marked by exciting visits to the museums too numerous to mention, a tour of Parc Guell and Gaudi's masterpiece, the cathedral of Sagrada Familia, as well as enjoyment of Las Ramblas and the general ambiance of this vigorous city. It was marred by a bad bout of influenza.

After the delights of Barcelona we sailed northwards along the Costa Brava, or Wild Coast, some 230 kilometres from Blanes to the French border. This twisting, rocky shoreline of the province of Girona is backed by the Catalan mountains which approach the shoreline in lines of cliffs that create many beautiful inlets and numerous picturesque harbours and fishing villages. At Blanes itself, the Marimurta Botanical Gardens, set on a high promontory with splendid views over the sea, house some 4000 plant species from the five continents, in particular cacti and succulents from Africa and America.

The photograph to the right shows us sailing across the calm waters of the Bay of Rosas. On the coastline, just visible in the distance behind us lies the ancient city of Ampurias. Founded by the Greeks in the 6th century BC, and later taken over by the Romans, it has extensive, well preserved remains which extend over a considerable area.

The rocky headland of Cabo de Creus is the last major hurdle for the mariner heading towards France. Tucked into this area lies the pretty village of Cadaques, once a simple fishing harbour until it was discovered by early 20th century writers and artists, and made notorious by Salvador Dali who built a home there.

Just before the border, at Cap Bear, lies another small fishing harbour, Port Bou, where a striking modern memorial has been constructed in memory of theJewish author Walter Benjamin, who was apparently murdered there after escaping from the Nazis in the 1940s.

Above left, is photograph taken in Port Vendres, the first harbour in France. Of Greek and Roman origin, it was first properly fortified by Vauban, the French military engineer, in the 17th century. During the 19th and early 20th centuries it developed into an important trading port with North Africa and Spain. Badly damaged during the Second World War, it again revived by trading with Algeria but lost its role when that country gained independence in 1962. It remains a genuine and unspoiled harbour and is by no means given over to tourism as much as nearby Collioure

The last photograph shows us having a splendid sail under jib alone across the Golfe du Lion. Behind lies the last view of the Catalan mountains of Spain. Ahead lies the long, low sandy coast of Languedoc-Rousillon, once desolate and only developed towards the end of the last century with huge marinas and holiday resorts. For two of these, Gruissan and Grande Motte, we had the (probably unjustified) nicknames of Gruesome Grisson and Grotty Motty! In the whole of this gulf one is at risk of the infamous 'Tramontana', a furious wind that whips up a vicious, short sea and storm force winds in less than an hour. We kept a careful lookout for the telltale cigar-shaped clouds which herald its onset but arrived without mishap at the marina of Cap d'Agde from where, after a winter ashore, we would sail 'Joy of Mann' into the nearby Canal du Midi.