Decisions

It was hot in Assilah, very hot. The only time it wasn't hot was when the convection fog would shroud the harbour. On those mornings fewer fishermen would leave and only a couple of the coral boats, presumably equipped with some modern electronics would go to sea. After the unfortunate jet skier had been recovered the winds again settled into the southern quadrant making further progress south a waiting game at least. We had been in Assilah a week already. Lynne and I were coming round to the idea of using the winter to refit Dark Tarn and visit home for Christmas. We had already planned to stay in Rabat for a couple of weeks and hopefully travel inland to see a bit more of this fascinating country and its people. Couldn't we do that from Tangier?

On the surface Assilah was beautiful, but walk away from the glorious art in the medina and the streets were piled high with rubbish and the gulf between the haves and have nots was huge. Without exception the people remained friendly and hospitable. We developed a new respect for the fishermen as they left every morning and never failed to greet us with a "Bonjour, how are you, welcome". As we became more of a fixture we made efforts to ensure we were as little a hindrance as possible by re-arranging our two anchors, bow and stern to keep us parallel to their moored boats.

One day the fleet seemed to have a bumper day, one boat in particular came back loaded with 2.5 metre long sharks, eight of them, all in an open boat 5 metres long, which already has three men in it!

The sharks were dragged out with a collective effort including the help of a 4x4, and gutted on the harbour wall. How on earth they got them in the boat in the first place is beyond me.. Vans turned up to spirit the catch away and in one of those polarising moments I was simultaneously sad for the sharks but happy for the fishermen, their families would eat well.

A threesome of fishermen we knew entered the harbour in their small boat and after passing the usual pleasantries turned around and came alongside us to show off their catch, 5 swordfish , so big that the swords stuck out one side of the boat and the tails the other, probably each 2 metres long. As they left the men said they had also caught Tuna and threw a couple of fish weighing 5-6 lbs each into our cockpit.

I think they are known as "Big Eye Tuna" for obvious reasons. One of the 5 pillars of Islam is Zakat, or charity. We were certainly grateful and were still eating these delicious fish days later!
We had decided that we would return to Tangier and rethink, consequently we woke up the Gendarmerie the following morning at 8 o'clock and after a small amount of messing about including roping in a passing fisherman to give a policeman a lift out to Dark Tarn to inspect us we had our ships papers returned and we could leave. I will always have fond memories of Assilah.
We sped north in light following winds, which typically increased noticeably as we rounded Cap Spartel. We ran into the Bay of Tangiers with a good 15-20 knots of wind. Another wait to clear in yet again with Customs Immigration and the Police saw us berthed again in the Marina by late afternoon, helped (or hindered by) the friendly but hopeless marineros!

We were back in the big city, certainly a contrast to the feel of Assilah. Above is our view from the cockpit. We settled down as the wind finally dropped and planned the following day. Lynne had some unfinished business and wanted to see the Phoenicians graves high above the town so we set off the following morning climbing through the Medina and Casbah to the Tombeaux Pheniciens.

Not particularly well signposted but then again nothing is in Morocco, the way is marked by Greco roman pillars descending towards the sea.

The graves themselves seemed strangely familiar, there are some very similar at Heysham, carved directly out of the rock.
The situation is spectacular, being on a rocky outcrop above the Casbah, with splendid views back towards the harbour.

We sat and had a drink of water, but as there was no shade whatsoever we decided after 20 mins or so to find the legendary cafe Hafa. this is located a little bit further along the cliffs. It was a favoured watering hole of artists writers, artists and musicians, including our old friends Burroughs and Bowles along with the Beatles and the Rolling Stones.

It is worth the climb. a series of terraces filled with flowers and greenery provide shady alcoves and nooks and cranny's to have an intimate conversation, a game of drafts or just sit and look at the view.
Mint tea is the only option outside the restaurant. But what mint tea...……

and what a view. the whole of the straights of Gibraltar  and the coast of southern Spain lies across the vivid blue sea. The décor and allegedly the tea hasn't changed since the Cafe opened in 1921.
I can well believe it.

We watched what appeared to be a forest wildfire throwing smoke high into the sky, along with the seemingly endless flow of shipping in their invisible lanes in the sea. Lynne imagined the radio traffic having listened to it first hand, The deck officers get very twitchy if anyone makes a slight course change. The visibility was considerably better than when we made the crossing!

We also spotted and watched a lone yacht sailing well towards Tangier under a colourful gennaker, we would later meet Bob and Anthony as they berthed on the same pontoon as us in the marina.
The Cafe Hafa is a  fabulous place to enjoy an unrivalled view and enjoy a mint tea for just over a pound sterling for two.

We retraced our steps after having a look at the park and palace on the top of the hill (no photos , its a military establishment) , Its an area known as the Quartier du Mershan  and was where the rich mechants in the 19th century built splendid villas. Its still very much upmarket of the Medina. worth the walk and Tangier felt a lot less strange to us now, maybe we were becoming acclimatised...…..

a sad end...

We awoke early to get away, taking advantage of the brief shift to easterly's which would enable us to at least do a short hop to Larache some 18 miles down the coast. This would mean a visit to the Gendarmerie so they could return our ships papers and a further bit of Moroccan beurocracy along with stowing our anchors it couldn't take more than an hour at most..
As I came on deck the police RIB was entering the harbour, it approached slowly and I noticed at first it had been blown up as its tubes looked tight, I also noticed that the three gendarmes were holding clothes over their faces, as we exchanged looks and a quick wave of acknowledgement I realised that they must have recovered a body. I think it was the grim look on their faces, unfortunately one I have seen before and one that seems to be universal. A short time later one of the coral boats, entered the harbour towing a jet ski. The story was unfolding and our departure was almost immediately put on hold as we had no desire to complicate matters further.

 We think the port may have been closed to pedestrians as the police and local fishermen  were the only people on the quayside. The jet-ski was lifted out using the giant crane that had been dismantling the floating platform and the police launch went around to the fish quay steps as an ambulance arrived with a spinal board. We watched as the body was treated with a great deal of care and respect. The police men had rudimentary paper masks on and it cannot have been a pleasant job as the divested the body of its buoyancy aid and other equipment. It was all done very discreetly but at one point a pale and grey arm was raised above the gunwale of the launch before the body was wrapped and carefully carried into the waiting ambulance. We later found out he had been in the water for up to 10 days. The police were reluctant to tell us anymore details about what was obviously a tragic accident, understandably.

We sat in the cockpit of Dark Tarn and had a serious think, we had already abandoned idea of leaving that day and it started a discussion about options. the Moroccan coast is not to be trifled with, most harbours are difficult to enter because of swell , sandbars or contrary currents. I think we both were also feeling the otherness of Morocco, the non existent health and safety, endless beurocracy to which the overwhelming friendliness to strangers provided a counterpoint. The weather was stubbornly against us as by the same afternoon the wind had returned to a persistent South westerly, where it would remain. We discussed going into the Mediteranean, and wintering in La Linea and exploring southern Spain by land. We also toyed with the idea of a winter up the guardiana.
We both felt we didn't want to sail into constant headwinds for another 350 miles before a 250 mile crossing to the Canaries. Having already arranged to have Dark Tarn sandblasted and painted in La Linea in March and having seen how difficult a return to mainland Spain could potentially be so early in the year we decided to rethink our plans.
These tend to be based on whether we are enjoying things and a kind of "stress-fun balance checklist". After the bar room brawl and the unfortunate victim of the sea being brought in to the harbour our psychological stress levels were a little uncomfortable. After a great deal of debate
we decided to cruise in Morocco for a while longer but to head East, back into the Mediteranean and winter in la Linea as we could then fly home for Christmas and get a lot of niggling jobs on the boat done in one place without having to do a weeks ocean crossing avoiding Atlantic weather fronts. We could also get to see Alhambra and Ronda, (not the one in Wales) hopefully along with some other bits of Andalucía.
Sometimes its good to reflect on what we do, and its dangers. A moments inattention or a weakness in the boat left unattended to, a failure in planning or preparation and the consequences can be very serious. Much as we love the sea and the people who live and work on and around it. She will always be a cruel mistress. The jet-ski has a range of 10-15 miles and its journey ended in Asilah.
Ours will continue …..

Assilah uncovered

Assilah is in some respects unique in Moroccan seaports, there is no other like it. It has no commercial base other than fishing anymore. No container port , no oil terminal. In many respects it should have sunk quietly into obscurity. one of its sons attained a high ranking post in the government and consequently it seems Assilah reinvented itself.

In a way, on the Cornish model of beaches, tourism and art. Once known as Zilis, to the Phoenicians in the 2nd century B.C. I  personally think the history of this town needs to be more widely known. For example the walls that you can see in the photos above and below were built by the Portugese in1471 and define the medina today, a hundred years later King Sebastian of Portugal who hoped to win Morocco for Christendom ( a little known crusade) landed at Assilah en route to the battle of the three kings (the other two being Moroccan). All three of the kings were slain at the battle and subsequently Portugal was bankrupted ransoming the nobility after the defeat at Kasar el Kebir, just SE of Larache. Possibly our next port of call.. Essentially that ended Portuguese involvement in Morocco, apart from the food that is...

The Spanish then moved in for a hundred years or more until 1691 after which the Moroccans established  control and the  area became  famous for pirates, along with Sale further down the Moroccan coast. The 15th century walls still define the Medina and Spanish and Portuguese influence can be tasted in the cuisine and heard in the speech of the local people. For quite a while I felt a bit silly talking to people in a mixture of French and Spanish until I realised that, if I had the ability to add some Arabic I would have sounded like a local!

The forecast was predicting easterlies for Saturday which would have been perfect for us but as it turned out south westerlies, and very light winds at that were what actually turned up.
So after seeing the gendarmes who frankly were bemused by our insistence on telling them when we would leave., we made our way back into the Medina to seek out some art and a new pair of sandals for me.

 Not only is the Medina a beautiful place of history , art and culture, along with sensible commerce of course., it is also a truly peaceful place. Stray outside the Medina walls and you come into contact with the real Morocco, its sweaty, smelly and dirty. Not without charm but not the semi sanitised, picture postcard view within the ancient walls.

This includes Instagram hints and tips for selfies...…Its about time I changed my "T" shirt......

But also includes some stunning street art, having seen graffiti from the roman era I am reminded of the famous saying "Plus ca change, plus c`est la meme chose". (The more it changes, the more its the same thing)

I think I can figure out the message, without being able to read Arabic, surely that's the power of art?

Of course some bits are just plain lovely…….I can understand why Mosque doors are always green now.....

After I had taken these photos we walked along the coast , beyond the walls to a beach the locals were enjoying. The surf was pounding in and we were sat in a small cafe balcony above the beach enjoying a mint tea. It was obvious that there was a subtle difference in the view in that females frolicking in the waves were dressed from head to toe , some in purpose made swimming clothing others in just what they were wearing. It seemed to make no difference at all to there enjoyment of the water but I was personally still a little uncomfortable with the whole thing. I understand from the Koran that modesty is the norm, for both men and women. It seems that once again men have gained the upper hand.

Now this is going to be an odd post , hopefully.
 Lynne and I wandered down to the front, overlooking the harbour to a restaurant which I wont name , but its next to the cafe du port. Lynne decided that was a good place to dine as it seemed to be popular with locals. So popular in fact that we had only the choice of the last table under the air conditioning unit " le clime".which dripped water constantly.  We were later moved to the first available table. Subsequently we enjoyed a lovely lunch of Tagine cooked meat and vegetables and were contemplating a coffee when all hell broke lose. I really have no idea of the cause but I suspect it was a dispute over a bill, but suddenly and without warning a customer and the staff were fighting, chairs were broken and glasses smashed, crashing out of the restaurant onto the street other people joined in. At this point Lynne and I parked ourselves around the children abandoned by the participants as glasses flew and smashed around us. One of the children was in a pram. As the fight progressed down the street. We handed the children back to the mother, presumably the wife of one of the combatants and a little bewildered wondered what to do. Being British leaving without paying the bill was not to be countenanced so we sat at a table across the road until the  police arrived and everthing calmed down. A disturbing aspect of this violence was that everyone involved armed themselves with smashed bottles,  chair legs, bits of metal, knives in the case of the kitchen staff. Really a serious altercation, blood was spilt and ambulances called along with the police.
I have no idea if this is the norm, or in fact what led to this outburst of extreme violence. Needless to say I did not take photos.
The meal by the way was excellent.
By the time we returned to Dark Tarn the forecast easterlies had finally arrived and we spent a  happy hour rearranging and resetting our anchors. We are anchored fore and aft to prevent us swinging into the fishing fleet. Having taken a good ten minutes to free our kedge anchor from the black mud of the harbour bottom I can safely attest that the holding is "good".
Later we sat in the cockpit and after getting rid of the local kids who had swum out and were occupying  our dinghy by the expedient of stowing it on deck, we contemplated the day.
Morocco is definitely different...……
I would also maintain that Assilah is the friendliest place we have been in Morocco. despite the above unfortunate incident.

Assilah

As we prepared to leave Tangiers we ran into another, not quite ready scenario with Marina Tanger Bay. Morocco insists that visiting yachts clear in and out at every port. This means a whole lot of paperwork and bureaucracy. Luckily for us the police immigration and customs officials (all of whom need to be seen on entry and exit) were helpful, friendly, and as efficient as their system will allow. They are now based next to the new marina complex and everything seems to be focused on the waiting pontoon. We queued up at the marina office only to be told after a half hour wait that we needed to see the police etc. to get an exit stamp. This we duly did and were then told we could leave, this caused a little consternation from the marineros on the waiting pontoon as we passed without stopping. we did turn around and told them we had been cleared to leave. In short, it can only get better.

Lynne was a little apprehensive as we left the shelter of the breakwater and as we motored towards Cap Spartel the wind acceleration zone around the headland built up a few whitecaps and the windspeed increased noticeably. It is a significant headland in many ways but for us it meant leaving Europe behind and heading into Africa.

The wind was blowing consistently from the south but lighter once we had rounded Cap Spartel. Lynne commented on how green Morocco was, a good sign that she was back in sailing mode. We were being followed by a catamaran and as we gained a few miles south the wind settled in the SW enabling us to set a genoa close hauled. I didn't want to set the main as I was unsure as to where and when we would be clear of the local winds that make Gibraltar straits such a windy spot and I wanted an easily handled sail area. We made good speed, indeed following our example the Cat following set all sail, however, never passed us, Rule no 1. We did have a current against us and I assumed this would be the constant surface current flowing into the Mediteranean. It was nearly ten miles before we were clear of its effect. We made good speed after that and the sailing was very pleasant. We were a little intimidated by the entrance to Assilah which is small and prone to swell. The harbour itself is shallow in many spots and has no facilities for yachts.

It is however delightful, and a total change from the frenetic atmosphere in Tangiers. We anchored with our "Q" flag flying and enjoyed a coffee waiting for officials to come out to us. They duly did and as skipper I was expected to accompany them ashore, I briefly wished we had blown up our dinghy as I surveyed the sagging tubes and smoky outboard of their boat, it had certainly seen better days and hadn't been outside the harbour in a while for sure..

All the procedures were in French and I must admit the accent threw me, even place names "Taoje" is Tangier for example. But we got there in the end. Assilah is not an official port of entry and I was a little worried that we would be grilled or asked for "backsheesh". I needn't have worried apart from retaining the ships papers until we left, our passports were returned and rather than risk the police launch the police flagged down a passing fisherman who transported me back to Dark Tarn much to Lynnes surprise. But as the Policemen said "Its better than swimming".
So began our introduction to Assilah and to an extent Morocco, far away from the tourist traps of Fez and Marrakech. This was a vibrant and fascinating town. The harbour was every childs swimming hole and the fishermen constantly coming and going always waved and said "bonjour". It felt a world away from Tangier with the constant noise of traffic and security guards blowing whistles.

We didn't go ashore the first night just sat in the cockpit listening to the sounds of the harbour and the town, children swimming and diving off the harbour wall, the music from the fair, It was festival month, and every so often the call to prayer from the local mosques echoing around as it had for thousands of years. Assilah was known to the Phoenicians, almost as old as man...….
As the sun dropped into the western horizon we sat in the cockpit, watching fish leap in the still waters and feeling as our neighbours passed going about their work privileged visitors and welcome guests. We were certainly a point of interest!

The following day we needed to go ashore to explore and sort out our mobile phone dilemma. Our helpful friends in the gendarmerie were very easy going about us anchoring and staying in the middle of their bustling harbour. When I introduced Lynne as "ma famme" the chief of police replied with "enchante madam", we were definitely in the old world. Lynne was utterly charmed. We had blown up our dinghy and left it tied to another decrepit inflatable near the police launch and walked around the harbour to the Port Entrance. An impressive edifice made even more bizarre as it seemed to be a local taxi rank, no uber these , gaily decorated carriages, horse drawn and almost universally pink.

Just opposite was the entrance to the old town or Medina. Marked by an impressive tower. A hint of what to expect was evident in the several sculptures adjacent to the ancient medina walls

There was also n impressive number of beach umbrellas on the beach by the medina walls.

The sculptures were surprisingly, representing artists from all over the world. I say surprisingly only because I was genuinely surprised. It was becoming obvious that there was some artistic link between this ancient town on the western edge of the Sahara desert and not only the rest of the world but a peculiar western mindset.

 Unusually for a Moroccan medina the streets are actually quite wide, at least initially, it is also free of the "Hard sell". In fact western tourists are relatively rare, there are seemingly a few, invariably French. but the majority of visitors are Moroccan nationals. The atmosphere is refreshingly relaxed after Tangier.

Its the primary colours decorating the whitewashed buildings and above all the art that defines Assilah, art is everywhere.

 The colour blue is prevalent in decoration for houses. I'm not sure if it brings the sky down or the sea in, but beautiful it unquestionably is.

We wandered around this marvellous free art gallery for a few hours.

 There are literally surprises around every corner.

I learnt to turn around and go the other way to reveal even more surprises.

Assilah is a town linked by its very soul to the sea. the desert may be at its back but its history is reliant on the sea as a highway to the world.

The history of Assilah is a little bit hard to grasp, it predates Christ, it predates the Romans, it existed before the very first Phoenicians ever turned up. If only its walls could speak.....

Remember Raissouli, the warlord that was played by Sean Connery in the film "The Wind and the Lion", well this is where he had his base, he was eventually expelled by the Spanish in 1924.

The medina is truly a delight, you are left alone to enjoy the sights and the free art, we were assisted a couple of times and directed to certain places that we must see but were never asked for anything in exchange , just purely a people proud of their town and incredibly welcoming to foreigners like ourselves.

I must admit to being quietly entranced by the interweaving of art and history in the medina. It is definitely not for western consumption, the majority of visitors are Moroccan. There is a melding of cultures which can sometimes feel slightly disorienting.

I think I must learn to live with the fact that in a mobile world other cultures are accessible, and by contact must somehow be diluted, but in Assilah`s case it would appear that the town has managed to assimilate and expand on what is already a fantastic history and give it a new coat of paint.

Its a real breath of light and colour to walk around the medina.

The traders in the Souk are somehow reluctant to pressure you into buying anything.

The murals are everywhere.

with an almost complete lack of graffiti.

This was in fact the  nearest we have got to rain so far in Marocco.

Art for arts sake...……………...

House of carpets...………….

There are bits of the medina that are not quite finished, this was taken next door to where they are building (or rebuilding) a Mosque.

Outside the walls is the "new town" a bit brasher and dirtier, in contrast to Tangier which was exactly the opposite.

Medina exploration over we walked into the new town  to find a mobile top up.

The town is very nicely laid out but is lacking a big supermarket. How sad am I? There is a superb market for fresh produce, and you can buy fish straight off the boat in the port.

And this is the port with Dark Tarn at anchor just inside the breakwater and clear of fishing boats.