We reach Cabrera on the 15th in the afternoon in order to continue sampling the eastern part of the National Park. Ten minutes after the robot was in the water, we saw some fog beginning to form on the camera lens, which is bad news; water was somehow getting inside. We decide to suspend the dive and lift the ROV out of the water. There must be a broken seal or connection.

To save time, the divers submerge themselves in the small island of Na Foradada while we check the robot. We don’t see many fish here, only a group of barracudas (Sphyrna viridensis), but we do spot a wall covered with sponges and corals, such as Leptosamnia pruvoti, Caryophyllia inormata, etc.

On the morning of the 16th, we return to the place we left the day before. Now it seems everything is working well. The sea bed is made up of fine sand atop a hard substrate. Sometimes, we spot concretions of red algae with numerous sponges. On the larger ones, we find greater forkbears (Phycis phycis), mullets (Mullus surmuletus), lobsters (Palinurus elephas), swallowtail seaperch (Anthias anthias), etc.

We also see some specimens of laminarians (Laminaria rodriguezii) that are plentiful in some places. Meanwhile, we spot some small-spotted catsharks (Scylyorhinus canícula) and nursehounds (Scyliorhinus stellaris), as well as a couple of John Dorys (Zedus faber).

After documenting the seiners at the entrance of the port of Mazagón, we've spent the entire day diving around those coordinates, without success. We know they’re there, we just don’t know exactly where. In the afternoon, on our way to the delta of the Guadalquivir to anchor for the night, we’ve found the rocky areas with the help of the sonar where there are possibly gorgonians like the ones we’ve already documented .

On our way, we also spotted two new trawlers illegally fishing. We immediately call the Guardia Civil, and they question whether the vessel is indeed fishing at less than six miles from the coast. With the GPS in one hand, the telephone in the other and sitting in front of the radar, I can hardly believe what I'm hearing.

Tonight, we’ll anchor in waters of Doñana National Park where we'll attempt a night dive with the ROV to see what riches these waters have to offer, attracted by the lights of our camera.

September 3, 2007

María José Cornax

That’s why, when we submerged the ROV after mapping the area with the sonar, we were completely dumbfounded when a dense forest of gorgonians appeared before our eyes. We saw gorgonians that were probably hundreds of years old and reached up to 2 meters in height, and Dendrophylla corals rooted in a rocky sediment, covered by a fine layer of mud. The area was so dense that each movement made by the ROV was a threat to some of these animals, so we cancelled the dive with the ROV and the divers will continue in the afternoon.

The divers collected all the graphic material they could during a difficult dive with such poor visibility that they had to stay close together in order to not get lost. After speaking with Ricardo Aguilar, we found out the majority of the gorgonians were different species belonging to the Leptogorgia genus.

We set sail towards Mazagón to spend the night, still impressed by what we've seen.

During the morning we tried to make our first dive but the water, which was almost opaque, didn’t allow us to document the area so our divers soon had to give up.

Navigating close to the river mouth, right on the National Park nautical mile limit, we were surprised to see 6 dragnet boats, fishing at a depth of barely 9 metres. This being such a "visible" operation, together with the fact that a Government of Andalusia vessel had passed by and that at that moment we didn’t have the corresponding legal papers to hand, kept us from lodging a complaint. Shortly afterwards, when we reached port that night, we were able to confirm that dragnetting is forbidden in the fishing Reserve at the mouth of the Guadalquivir in order to protect an important hatching area.

We woke up in Barbate. Atlantic heat, sandy shades of colour and the large, pine green dunes. We are tied at the same port and pier that received the Ranger for the first time on Spanish land after the 2005 expedition from the U.S. city of San Diego. Wow… I’m having a déjà vu!

The wind has eased up quite a bit and the typical song of the Straits is no longer in our ears. Technical stop in the land of the almadraba and plans to sail towards Gibraltar. Technical stop also in Gibraltar for permits and customs paperwork. Gibraltar, … “gibral Tarik”, “the mountain of Tarik”, the one who started the adventure that lasted a few hundred years and turned a large part of the Iberian peninsula into the land of Island, according to the stories they told me in school some time ago. Another story was recently told that began … “when the Moors invaded Spain”, but I prefer the one my school teacher told me.

We untie at mid-morning and start heading towards Tarifa. The weather is good and bad, depending on how you look at it, but the crossing will definitely be unforgettable.

I have always liked Gibraltar's exoticism. That blend of British tidiness and order with the confusion of the most extroverted and improvised immigrant communities is “attractive” to me. And to top it all off, that "ango-andalusian remix" is sure to greet us with an authentic summer fair complete with horror house, crazy worm rides, target shooting, raffles and refreshment stands offering ham sandwiches, Spanish tortilla and gazpacho. All this at the foot of the famous Waterfront wall, complete with Bobbies donning helmet and truncheon, next to Queensway Marina. Just like that. That is, well, exoticism and… certain amusing memories of a few years ago.

We spent the night at Queensway Marina and refuelled the next day. Later on, it’s back to the ocean on our way to Placer de las Bóvedas, in front of Puerto Banús. As soon as we pass Punta Europa we see a semi-sunken junk boat, another dying ghost, but that’s another story.

After sailing through the night protected by cape Espartel, south of Tangiers, we decided to cross the Straits from south to north and take refuge in Barbate. The east winds are blowing at more than 40 knots and the Tangiers netters are surely not going out to fish during the next few days. They need dark nights and relatively calm seas. They have the darkness, but there is an important storm that prevents them from setting the driftnets. We’re in the recreational port of Barbate, managed by the Autonomous Government of Andalusia and built next to the traditional fishing port. There are about twenty seiners there, dedicated to capturing small pelagic species (anchovies, sardines,…) and on the dock, we can also see a few dozen enormous anchors used to fix the nearby tuna nets. The almadraba is spectacular and ancient activity to capture tuna in a sustainable manner that is disappearing due to overexploitation caused by large seiners, deep-sea longliners and the tuna farming business. The recreational port is peaceful and organised, not overcrowded, and no foolish urban developments have been built around it yet. It is truly a pleasant place. The quality of the water could be improved; there is a lot of floating debris and occasionally, the smell of spilled fuel. But all in all, we are comfortable here, especially after having spent a week jumping around out there.

We take advantage and relax a little. We use the showers in the port instead of the buckets of salt water we normally use to wash ourselves. The showers have hot water and the facilities are quite clean. The designers, builders and managers of public bathrooms, however, -and not only those in the port of Barbate, which are not the worst we’ve seen by far-, should be forced to use them daily for at least one full week. “Let’s see, Mr. Architect, or Mr. Foreman who has pocketed all the cash: you are going to shower in these facilities that you have designed and built, and charge for their use. Where are you going to hang the clothes you’ve taken off or the clean clothes you’re going to put on? Where in this shower stall can you put the soap or the shampoo bottle? How can you manage to direct the water spray so that it’s aiming towards the centre of the shower stall and you don’t have to lean up against a wall to get wet? Then try to shave. Does it worry you that none of the lights installed over the mirrors actually work? And what are those power outlets good for if they don’t have any electricity? And what about that cheap electric hair dryer that’s been broken since the week after the grand opening? How about installing a reasonably sized toilet paper dispenser? Small inconveniences? Sure, because you don't use the facilities you designed, built or manage. . You simply pocket the money you charge for them. By the way, maybe you could inform your sector magazines about how to avoid the puddles of water, the chipping of recently applied paint, the rusting of recently installed elements… That way you would contribute to helping us feel we’re not in a third world country… and cheated”.

Once the crew is clean, we face the tons of dirty clothes we've accumulated during last week's trip. Buckets on deck and the Ranger’s cables used as improvised clothes lines for t-shirts and pants in all shades of blues and whites. Then, the rush. For a few hours, each crew member takes advantage and leaves the boat to take a stroll through the nearby town. Juan Carlos, the cook, is also off tonight and the people organise themselves to have lunch and dinner elsewhere. Only a couple of us stay onboard to rest or solve some pending matters. By the way, it’s amazing how Jesus Renedo, the captain, knows someone from his life as a sailor in each and every port visited by the Ranger.

We head towards the narrowest part of the Straits, sailing over the Tofio Bank and avoid entering the 12 miles of Moroccan territorial waters. We have everything in order and we can’t be reproached for anything we’ve done, but even so, we prefer to avoid any bureaucratic obstacles that would arise from a chance meeting with the Royal Navy. A few weeks ago, the Moroccan government approved a law that Oceana and WWF had been asking of them for years: the formalisation of a plan to eliminate driftnets, in accordance to that which is established by the UN, ICCAT, the GFCM, ACCOBAMS and other organisms of which Morocco is a member. The marine conservation organisations have applauded Moroccan authorities, even though the prohibition will not come into effect until January 2009. Meanwhile, the fleet of at least 150 driftnetters must be converted or dismantled. For this, the EU is contributing €1.25M per year and the United States is contributing with part of the $700M approved this week by their Congress as global contribution for environmental improvements in Moroccan agriculture and fishery.

If no driftnetters are to be found in the Alboran Sea and the Straits of Gibraltar within one year and a half, it is necessary for Morocco to implement a step by step deactivation plan for this fleet and to make it known to the public so it can be supervised. These things don't happen overnight. It is unthinkable that on December 31, 2008, there will be almost 200 driftnetters in operation, and the next day they will all be gone. Furthermore, those of us -from Oceana today, and using other uniforms in the past- who have been following the evolution of the driftnetter fleets in the Mediterranean for 15 years have enough experience to know how the shipowners try to take advantage of these processes, pocketing the money from subsidies and continuing to use the prohibited nets unpunished. It's not easy to forget the case of two of the EU’s founding countries: Italy (€200M swindled out of European and Italian taxpayer's hands and a fleet of driftnetters that is still largely active) or France (that has used IFOP funds for the construction of new vessels dedicated to illegally fishing young bluefin tuna, albacore and swordfish).

The Ranger crossed the Straits in the afternoon and is entering the Atlantic. The east wind is still picking up and we don’t think the driftnetters based in Tangiers will go out to fish where they usually do: directly in the area where traffic in the Straits of Gibraltar is separated and where the very long nets pose a serious threat to navigation, apart from other environmental considerations.

We pass Ceuta and turn towards the south. The crew forms on deck and salutes while laughing as we pass Perejil Island, as they wonder how two government representatives like Federico Trillo and his Moroccan counterpart could be so dim-witted and have absolutely no sense of the ridiculous. The wind is still getting stronger, but the African coast protects us from its blows. We’ll keep watch all night long, but we don’t think there are many possibilities they will go out to fish. We left Tangiers to the north and now we pass some Moroccan trawlers coming from the south, heading towards the port for shelter.

We spent the night anchored off Melilla. From here, we clearly see the entrance to the neighbouring port of Nador. No driftnetters have left there, yesterday or today. The west wind is still blowing fiercely, so much so that it has ripped off one of the blades from our wind-powered generator on the stern. But anchored here, it’s fine. A large number of seiners have gone out and after leaving the protected area of the breakwater, they head east and shelter themselves in the gulf where they will capture sardines and other small pelagic species, probably. Today, the weather forecast says the west winds will be dying down and, after a few hours of calm, a strong east wind will begin to blow. The seiners will have to quickly evacuate the area where they are working. But if there must be wind, at least let it come from the east, because that will favour the route we want to take.

While we were anchored, Carlos Pérez, Juan Carlos Calvín, Juan Carlos Ramos and Mario Conde took the rubber dingy to land, to Melilla, to buy supplies, take out the garbage and purchase other material for the Ranger. The rest of us took turns keeping watch on the port entrance, we cleaned the boat, answered mail, worked on documents or took advantage to make new plans for the following days and months.

At seven in the evening, we weighed the anchor and set sail again towards Alboran. This time, we will keep watch on the western part of the island, where the Alhucemas fleet operates. And we also get closer to the Atlantic, which is our next destination. There are less people onboard and its quite noticeable. We’ll be more comfortable, at least for a few days.

We cover the areas were we’ve registered driftnetters in the past, but there’s no one there. We reduce the watch to the two people necessary for navigation and the rest of us go to sleep while we sail along the African coast at a safe distance.

We didn’t have a good night. The westerly winds were strong enough to make a few of the new arrivals – especially some of the journalists – feel somewhat “uncomfortable”. Those of us who have been on the Ranger for days have already been through that ritual and slept like logs. In the morning, the seas were still quite rough and the winds did not lose intensity. We crossed the area where the driftnetters fish during the night and have not found anyone working there. So we decide to head towards the African coast, with the intention of reaching Melilla and resting until the weather improves. We contact the port and are informed that there is no berth available for the Ranger. The sailboats participating in the regattas this week have occupied