Landfalls never cease to make our adrenaline flow. Whether it’s the anticipation of a new country, or in this case, continent, there’s a delicious sense of reward, of simple achievement in having made our own way there. There’s also a frisson of nerves, as you move from the vast and largely empty ocean back into the inshore minefield of fishing vessels and nets, and the busy maritime comings and goings of a major port. I’m always more nervous at this stage than at any other time on a passage, eyes scanning the horizon for the human dangers that could trip us up at the last hurdle. And that’s in daylight—night entries are far, far worse.