We were sailing our Westerley Centaur up from Barbate, having negotiated the Straits of Gib the night before. Heading North towards Cadiz, It was three in the morning and we were being beaten up by a strong onshore breeze and a counter current of about four knots, when the radio crackled into life. It was the Spanish Navy. The only bit we recognised was live firing exercise. The lat and long positions were spoken so fast it was impossible to tell where it was. In the situation where there was actually nothing we could do but carry on, we put our life jackets on and made a cup of tea.