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Pre-dawn start to exit the Canal at slack water. Engine off and on through the morning’s fickle northerly. The sea breeze set in at lunchtime, freshening and heading us to set up a choppy beat. Portimao was in sight but out of reach as we bore away and tucked in three reefs; the wind blew and the seas grew as we left Cape St. Vincent in our wake.

Returned to Culatra to stroll across the dunes, admiring a surprising variety of flora, walk the tideline, picking out shells and wander amongst the dwellings of this curious little outpost, half fishing village, half self-catering holiday accommodation, with a lagoon of tidal liveaboards.

Rowed ashore to Culatra to catch the ferry up to Olhao. A spruced up waterfront of apartment blocks, marina, market halls and new ferry landing; behind, a maze of cobbled alleyways, tiled frontages and clusters of bars and shops. The compact cosy town contrasted with the light and spread of sky, water and sand, the vast cockle beds and rows of fish traps revealed on the ebb.

Used the morning’s useful but fitful breezes to hop along to Cabo Da Santa Maria and run up the Canal de Olhao. Anchored in the wide open spaces off Ilha da Culatra.

Left El Rompido prepared to sail off to the Azores but the afternoon’s southwesterly and a seemingly endless foul tide defeated us. Instead we just managed to beat along to Tavira to reconsider the wind and tide complications.

We took Amber Sand into the security of the marina to allow us to explore ashore. We caught the bus into Cartaya to restock at the Lidl and Dia stores there. However, the buses seemed to be running out of sync with the timetable and by 2115 we gave up on the 2000 last bus. No taxi service was available so we started walking. After a couple of kilometres, we started hitching at a well lit roundabout. A young Basque couple stopped to give us a lift back to the marina.

The combination of spring tidal streams and a fresh northwesterly kept us aboard as Amber Sand pirouetted around her anchor. We managed to restitch some chafed areas on the mainsail.

Made a brief sortie into Mazagon for supplies before departing under the relentless head of the midday sun. Just enough of a southwesterly to draw us along the coast to arrive at the Rio Piedras bar one hour before high water. Motored along to El Rompido past heaving beaches and the gauntlet of motorboats to reach relative peace in the anchorage beyond the new marina.

A dawn start again with the first stirrings of an easterly. Set out for the Guadalquivir but with a promising forecast set our sights on Huelva. The afternoon wind did not materialise, we resigned to an epic motoring session to make Mazagon.

Dawn saw us leaving the mist shrouded Rock astern and threading our way through the anchored giants to enter the Strait. We accelerated through, rocketed past Tarifia, ignored Barbate, surfed around Cabo de Trafalgar, sailed by Sancti Petri and only ran out of wind at dusk on the approach to Cadiz. Motored across to Rota, berthed alongside at midnight, but found no-one in attendance.