On Friday we headed for Mahon, the capital of Menorca, as Eric and Roz had flights home on Saturday. All the marinas were choc-a-bloc, so we diverted to Cala Taulera at the entrance to the port. The anchorage was very full but we were keen to get in as the forecast was for high winds the next day and this Cala laying sandwiched been an island on one side and a promontory of the mainland on the other was well protected. With some clever maneuvering by the skipper we found a slot and dropped our anchor.

It’s a funny thing but some people when they are on their own boat, particularly when at anchor, seem to put up an invisible wall around themselves and do their own thing. Sometimes this will manifest as music being played too loudly, or running a noisy generator though the peace of the evening, oblivious to the disturbance being caused. For others, especially the French in our experience, it is a visual assault, they parade around their yachts naked. On the Friday afternoon we arrived the man on the yacht next to us was proudly displaying all, while his wife sat next to him in a bikini, the next day they changed around with her hanging out the towels on the bows bare as a baby and he was in swimming trunks. What were the rules that dictated their dressing or not each morning? Eric decided they had been cruising so long they only had one pair of pants left between them and therefore had to take the wearing of them in turns.

Another sign of a long term live aboard boat is the amount of stuff on the decks, hanging from the rails and fixed to the stern. Just three months in, we quietly promised ourselves that we will keep our boat looking beautiful and our clothes on. A large supply of spare underwear will be kept at all times. Time will tell.

Just after we had dropped Eric and Roz at the dock the wind started to get up. Boats looking for shelter flooded into the already full anchorage. As the wind blows from slightly differing directions, the boats, always trying to have their bows into the wind, swing around their anchors. Exactly when and how much a boat swings depends on a myriad of things, such as the size of the boat, length and weight of chain deployed, and profile of the hull under the water.  The anchorage turns into a stage full of unchoreographed ballet dancers, pirouetting around there own central point. For this dance to work, all the boats need to have enough space around them so that if their neighbours swing is slightly out of time with theirs nobody bumps into each other. When it is crowded this can lead to some close encounters and tense moments.

We prepared for the night, putting out a bit more chain, clearing the decks and attaching a few fender over the side, just in case. We had a bit of space around us and our large anchor and heavy chain held us tight but it appeared that the other side of anchorage wasn’t so lucky, every now and again a shout would go up, torches would flash and a rush of activity could be seen. It was too dark to really see what was going on but hopefully no serious incidents occurred. As it happened the wind eased just after midnight and this particular performance slowed to a more sedate pace. Rick feeling happy that all was safe could come to bed and I was spared my early morning watch.

We have had some problems summoning each other this week, our friends Eric and Rosamund, commonly known as Rick and Roz are onboard, so there has been a lot of “Roz” , “Yes”, ” No the other Roz”. But we seem to be communicating okay and Roz brings with her other talents, she has been cutting and coloring my hair brilliantly for years and I have been holding out for her visit for weeks.

Open air hair salon

They arrived in Palma on Saturday and keen to show them the fantastic scenery on the North Coast we headed straight for Cala Foradada – the hole in the wall cove. On our previous visits the Cala has been very quiet, the sea is perfect and the cliffs spectacular, there are no roads, no beach, no buildings. So we were surprised to find  Seawolf a 190ft motor yacht anchored there when we arrived and even more surprised to be joined by the 450ft motor yacht Rising Sun during the evening, Google tells us she is the eleventh largest Superyacht in the world. The next morning yet another huge motor yacht arrived, the 230ft Tallisman. What on earth was going on? What or where around Foradada is there we mere mortals don’t know about?

Rising sun and Tallisman

Not invited to what ever this exclusive event was, we sailed on to the far north east corner of the Island. The sea was quite choppy and the first Cala we entered, we decided, was very pretty but too uncomfortable to stay, we motored a couple of miles further down the coast but the next bay was similar, we considered bringing our sail to Menorca forward to the night instead of the next morning but there was very little wind. In the end we motored accross to the far side of Bahia de Pollensa where it was more sheltered. 

In the morning we had a better opportunity to appreciate where we were, Cala del Pinar, was another quiet, pretty cove. The land ashore belonged to the  military and off limits to civilians but not to the booted eagle that flew over us and then stood perched on a branch drying himself for most of the morning. A shaggy fellow, about eighteen inches tall, with a white coloured breast and speckled thrush like back and wings.

We were glad we had waited until the morning for the thirty mile crossing to Menorca, the wind was blowing F3-4 on the beam, a great sail. Eric is joining us for the ARC and we had been discussing swimming off the boat mid-Atlantic and how scary that might feel, so living for the moment we thought we would try it. As we approached the Menorcan coast the wind had died and so we heaved-to (a method of backing the sails to stop the boat). Not quite mid-ocean, just three miles off Menorca and not 1000’s of metres deep just 67, but still, not the beach. The boat was drifting at about half a knot and we were surprised how quick that appeared when you tried to swim towards it and yes, Jo Robinson, it did cross my mind what might be lurking in the depths beneath my feet. Then to maintain British heaved-to tradition we made a cup of tea, bringing very puzzled expressions from a couple of passing Spanish yachts.

Cliffs on the Northern coast of Menorca are much lower and softer than the ones we have come from and the anchorages full of sailing rather than motor boats, so everywhere has a gentler feel. We are currently anchored in Puerto de Fornells. A small seaside town of white cubed buildings, inside a deep inlet, full of yachts. 

There is a busy sailing club here and we spent an entertaining afternoon, between hair cuts, watching laser dingies racing and capsizing in the brisk breeze. Everywhere we have been in Spain, from A Coruna to the here in the Balearics, we have seen youngsters sailing in all conditions, the British sailing team may need to look out in a few years time.

Monday 13th July 

I love that we wake each morning to a different view. I am often first up on the boat, in fact, sometimes it is so quiet and still, it feels as if I’m the first up in the whole of Spain. This morning the sea was calm, there was hardly a breath of wind and it was silent except for the continuous gentle lapping of the sea on the rocks. I did have one fellow early riser, a fisherman bobbing up and down in the distance, but the beach was empty. 

My view today, as I emerged sleepy eyed through the companion way, was of the huge slab of rock, Vedra Island. It is rumored to have been used for the photography for South Pacific’s Bali Hai and this morning it looked fantastic in the early light and was crowned with a puff of white cloud.

Vedra Island, Ibiza

An hour later I could begin to feel the warmth of the rising sun on my back and Vedra’s veil had been burnt off. As other sailors emerge from the yachts around me, the peacefulness seems to demand quiet and everyone is talking in hushed tones, slipping rather than diving in for their morning swim and much like me sitting on the deck quietly enjoying the view, even the gulls seem to be respecting the silence.

As we and the day move on, we become re-immersed in the madness that is Ibiza. We sailed to Fomentera, an Island, joined by a string of rocky islets to the Southern end of Ibiza. Our guide book written in 2011 describes it as being quieter and less busy than the main Island, that alas, is no longer the case.

The bay, Cala Sahona, is shallow and the water turquoise, the beach is of white sand and the cliffs are orange and patterned by ancient striations, it would be beautiful – but for the crowds. It is a mystery to me why so many boats, many expensive large motor yachts, all congregate in the same anchorage for the day. At times the boats are so closely anchored together no one can relax for fear of bumping into each other, skippers sit at the helm anxiously watching the ballet of swinging yachts around them. Swimming far from the yacht is foolhardy as jet ski’s, dingy’s and small motor boats weave their way between the spaces and there is hardly a square foot spare on the beach. 

We would move on but we plan to sail to Mallorca tomorrow evening, Penny and Stephen, who joined us yesterday, are keen to do a night sail and this is the only convenient sheltered anchorage for tonight. As the evening approaches the boats thin slightly and we manage to move to an emptier spot, but a noisy flotilla of charter yachts has joined us and the peace of the this morning seems a distant memory.

We are currently moored in El Puerto de Santa Maria, Real Club Nautica (Royal Yacht club). As members ourselves of the Royal Southampton Yacht Club we can fly a Blue Ensign instead of the normal red one. We are not really into the minefield that is flag etiquette but with our red flag fraying badly and in need of repair we have been discussing using it. As we now find ourselves tied up, on show, right outside the restaurant and bar of the Real Club Nautico, where by the amount of flags around they obviously are into such things, we decided to put it up and as it turns out it does looks rather good, dare I note – that it really goes well with the blue color scheme. 

We wandered into town and again flags were on display everywhere. Below is the cathedral where flags were not the only thing flying. If you look very carefully at the turrets you will see numerous storks that have built their nests precariously on the spires and statues.

Back at the boat we discovered one disadvantage of our mooring here. Something that at home I hardly even thought about, turns out to be a real mission on the boat, the laundry. Despite Ricks kind efforts to wear just one T shirt for as long as humanly possible, it still builds up. So every couple of marinas we visit we have the delight of spending hours and Euros in the laundry facilities. We do have a small washing machine onboard but not a tumble dryer and Rick takes some persuading to let me hang it out over the boat. Here in our prominent position in the marina even I agree that we couldn’t really cover the decks and rigging with our freshly washed bedding – luxury yacht or Chinese laundry?

Tuesday 26th May 2015

We were feeling rather tired, the sailing so far has been quite challenging, so we thought long and hard about whether to sail to Baiona in one hop, a 12hr sail. In the end we decided to go for it, with a few researched bolt holes enroute if we felt we needed to stop. As it turned out we had a fantastic days sail.

We started off with the sheer granite cliffs very reminiscent of Cornwall as our back drop. Cabo Finesterre has a fearsome reputation as being a rough and windy spot, but we had left early before the winds had really got going and it hardly bothering us. As the day went on the scenery soften and began to look more continental, with craggy hills and sandy beaches.

The sea here is very deep and a dark, dark, greeny, blue black. There was a metre or so of swell and small waves with white horses, but compared to what we’ve had, it felt calm. The sky was blue with hazy cloud stretching across it. 

We were sailing downwind so the boat was relatively flat and on deck, although the true wind was around 20kts, the apparent wind (the wind you feel onboard) was much less as the movement of the boat cancelled out some of the breeze. This was more like how we had imagined things and we began to believe that we could – cook, shower, live – for the weeks we need to cross an ocean. 

The day had started as a three layers, wet weather gear and boots type of day, but gradually it became warm and we ended up in t shirts and deck shoes.  

It might have taken us 12hrs sailing due south but we finally seem to have found summer. In fact this morning as we sip coffee and tea, on the veranda of the yacht club, looking out over the pretty Ria Baiona it feels as if we have passed through a time warp.

Sunday 24th May 2015

As I was chatting to Matt on the phone yesterday and discussing our trip across Biscay, I had to have a little smile. When Matt did his Yacht Master a few years ago during December and January, I always remember him telling me how they would go for days without changing, hardly even taking off their wet weather gear or life jackets little alone their underwear. I had tutted as Mum’s do and put it down to teenage boy slovenliness. But now we understand. When you have on as many layers as you can fit and still move, when the boat is rocking and rolling so much you can’t stand, when you are on deck for a cold three or four hour watch and have a only a few hours of rest before your next one and when concentrating on every clip, zip or piece of Velcro makes you sick, it is the obvious default position. So it was that I found Ian, Rick and at times Chris laying fully booted and suited on the salon sofas.

No need for that today however, we sailed for just 6hrs and are now tied up in the Galician village of Muxia in Ria de Camarinas, Northern Spain and a little peeved that we are STILL not warm. We seemed to have been plagued by north winds since we moved on to the boat in March and for the last couple of days it has been blowing a gale, literally.

  
  
It is common for there to be a strong north wind here at this time of year, they call them the Portugese trades because they run right down the Spanish and Portugese Atlantic Coast, but even the locals seem fed up with how chilly they are for the time of year. They have helped the sailing of course, as they did today with us averaging nearly eight knots for the 45nm from A Coruna to Muxia. But it would be nice to sit in the cockpit and relax in the sunshine without being battered and blown.

It took a day or two but we decided that we liked A Coruna with its quaint old town and bustling restaurants. Having Ian with us, as we wandered around, was great fun because as an architect he looks at a town through slightly different eyes and we saw things that we would normally never have noticed.  

  
  
For example it is characteristic of this area of Spain for buildings to have  a false facia that stands about a metre proud of the building and is made of windows of glass. This gives the occupants a small ‘conservatory ‘ area in winter (and when the North winds are blowing!) and can be opened and shaded, to keep the rooms cool in summer, as can be seen in the lovely terrace of apartments in the picture above.

We took a day out, while in A Coruna to visit the medieval town of Santiago de Compestella with its narrow streets and churches, it is place of pilgrimage for Roman Catholics and was thronging with people loaded down with backpacks, wearing walking boots and carrying staffs. We drank beer and wine in a terraced garden courtyard, wandered the streets and felt on holiday for a few hours.

Rick worked on things on the boat, we did the laundry and reprovisioned, a busy couple of days and then this morning we left Ian on the dock to catch his flight home, as we sailed to Muxia.

The Spanish Rias that run all around this coast are deep inlets surrounded with wooded hills and pretty beaches, we had planned to spend a few days exploring them, they are meant to be very beautiful and littered with secluded anchorages. However, the combination of our delayed start and the cool windy weather has made us decide to keep going South, next stop Baiona.