Two nights ago we passed through the Strait of Gibraltar again, headed for the Atlantic. I went out on the bow and watched for a while, as it was the perfect night for it and I missed the transit last time.
It's a sight that I will remember for a long time. On the right were the lights of Spain and Europe, glittering in an orange line along the coast and away into the distance. On the left they were matched by the lights of Africa. In the center, just to starboard, the rock of Gibraltar stood silhouetted against this backdrop, an inky blotch of darkest black against the soft glow of orange halogens.
Behind us (off the port quarter) the moon was beginning to rise, fading out the stars around it one by one. Rows of freighters riding gently at anchor stretched off to the horizon on both sides; little towers of light in a glassy sea. The night was calm and the ship was making little headway, but there was a gentle breeze coming from land that carried the dusty scent of North Africa with it.
Whenever I look at a map and see the strait, this is the image that I’ll remember.
|Note: not my picture.|