Some days the view from the cockpit is less picturesque than others.

   

We are in Marina Port De Mallorca in Palma, moored right by the road entrance to the marina, the view might not be great but we are entertained by all the comings and goings. One of the first things I spotted was the frequent visits of little vans emblazoned with “British Laundry, we collect and return to your boat”. So the laundry has gone off to be sorted by somebody else, what decadence!

After Penny and Stephen left last Tuesday we went further north. Again enjoying the fantastic scenery but this time with the sails up, yes finally we had some wind. It was a great day, capped off by a night in Cala Gossalba. A gorgeous cove in the very northwest corner of Mallorca, it was surrounded by cliffs, had a small pebbly beach and could only be reached by sea, it was blissfully quiet.  

The next day we sailed further around the coast to a large open bay with turquoise sea, Cala De Aguila. When we arrived the bay was relatively empty and the sandy beach long enough to absorb the crowds. However within a few hours the motor boats started to arrive. We sat in wonder as one guy put out a minimum of anchor chain, with music blaring his cargo of giggling girls swam and splashed, while he nonchalantly drifted, dragging his unsecured anchor amongst the crowd of boats, miraculously he didn’t hit anything. Ricks feelings about the place were not improved by the beach cafe ashore, it served decent food but accompanied it with loud disco music. That night the swell got up and we had a hot and uncomfortable night. 

We returned to Soller hoping to find calmer waters. Anchoring in our normal spot, in theory we should have been sheltered from the forecasted southwesterly swell but somehow it crept into our corner and we tossed around like a cork all night. The bay was full with boats avoiding the weather but even the Superyachts that had anchored around us looked uncomfortable. To top it all I had a bit of a cold (thanks Penny). Time to find a marina.

We spent Friday and Saturday at Club Velo Marina in Andratx. It was very relaxing and we enjoyed being still for a couple of days. We slept a lot, I think after three weeks, with only one night not at anchor, we needed the rest. As I have said before we love the freedom and relative privacy of being at anchor but you can never really switch off, always with one eye or ear to what is happening with the boat. Club Velo has a pool, a restaurant and a shop selling the Times, all very civilized. We swam, went into Puerto Andratx town browsing the shops and art galleries and in the evening cooked a Thai curry for Chris and Sarah who had just sailed in on their Oyster 56.

Sunday we sailed to Palma where we will be for a week. We are here to catch up on some boat maintenance, Rick has a long list of jobs to do and we hope its third time lucky at getting the freezer sorted. We have a few things to pick up from the Palma Oyster Office who have organized our berth at a good rate and sorted the freezer people to come, certainly living up to their reputation of good service. Hopefully there will be a good chandler and a large supermarket so we can restock. I, as always, have admin to do and we plan to hire a car and have a day exploring inland. Andy from the Stella Maris team is here and we hope to meet up with him and some more Oyster friends. A busy week to come, there will be hardly a moment to appreciate the view.

You just can’t get the crew these days!

  

  

Friday 17th July
The scenery along the northern coast of Mallorca is incredible, cliffs soar straight out of the water 300m into the air. The rock is a jumble of tilted layers, pocked cliff faces, huge dislodged slabs, holes and caves. They demonstrate every aspect of corrosion and would make a fabulous living geography lesson. The sea is crystal clear and an inky royal blue, pine trees line the deep valleys and grow on every possible ledge. We sail mouths open, completely agog at such splendor, cameras clicking.

We left Soller via the fuel dock. Penny and Stephen went into town for fresh bread and fruit, Rick and I slipped the lines at our berth and tied up for fuel. There was just a light breeze and no current but still, we congratulated ourselves on our slick docking. With so little wind over the last month, Raya has basically become a motor boat, we are using our fuel quickly but life especially at anchor is a bit cheaper than expected and we still seem to be on budget.

We were told the Cala De la Calobra, a few miles up the coast was not to be missed, so having topped up with fuel we motored north west. The bay was narrow, it’s sides towering cliffs, we searched for words to describe it, savagely beautiful, awe inspiring, dominating……… 

As we crept further in we were pleased to see that only three yachts were anchored but as we got closer we saw the beach was absolutely heaving with people.

At the back of the cove there is a dramatic valley where a river winds its way down to the sea, there are caves to explore and a tunnel system that runs straight through the huge cliffs. It has become one of Mallorca’s must see tourist spots.

Please excuse my rant, but knowing the pebbly beach and its shallow area of shore is so small, the tour guides that bring the hordes by bus and pleasure boat are just taking advantage of them. We swam ashore there wasn’t an inch to move, the beach and swimming area were full of rubbish, it was not a pleasant place to be. Everyone was complaining, they obviously all felt well and truly exploited, the grandeur of the location just couldn’t be appreciated. Surely the tour operators should be limited on how many trips come each day and then be made to clear up the mess that is left behind!  

We moved on quickly and motored to Cala Foradada, an anchorage with no beach, no roads, no restaurant we anchored behind a jagged L-shaped cliff with a massive hole in its face, finally we had found a quiet spot. As the boats around us left in the normal evening exodus, for a moment we had the bay to ourselves. Unfortunately two other yachts arrived, but with just three boats around we had a peaceful night. 

   

Saturday morning we headed southwest towards Palma. As we rounding the top corner of Mallorca, slipping between the mainland and Isla Dragonera things began to get busier, we spent a night in Cala Llamp and called into Andraitx for supplies. As Penny and Stephen leave tomorrow we gave them the option of carrying on towards Palma or returning to the peace of the north. They voted to turn back so we are now re-anchored in Cala Foradada. 

We tried to do a bit of actual sailing yesterday, Penny and Stephen will be joining us for the Panama to Galapagos leg next year and they wanted to get some confidence with the sails, lines and furling systems on Raya, hopefully there won’t be much call for their new anchoring and motoring skills on our 900 nm passage. For a while the wind toyed with us at around 10kts. Being in no rush we let the wind dictate our journey. They did manage a bit of time each at the helm and a few tacks but the presence of the breeze was brief and soon we were wallowing with sails flapping and we were back motor sailing.  

It is Monday morning, all is quiet except for the bleating of a family of goats in the hills above us – they obviously haven’t read the early morning peacefulness guide. We had a steamy night and this morning the wind gauge actually reads zero, still it does mean we don’t need to find sheltered anchorages, life is hot but relaxed. 

Thursday 16th July 
We had a lovely night sail to Mallorca Tuesday night. We had left Cala Salona for the other side of Formentera where reportedly there was a supermarket close to the anchorage at Cala Pujols. We entered another beautiful bay with again turquoise sea and dramatic cliffs, these full of caves and nooks and crannies. 

We headed for shore to get some lunch and stock up the cupboards, we spotted a rough stone jetty to the west of the main beach, keen not to have to park the dingy on the beach we diverted and tied up. Above, was what looked at first sight to be just another beach cafe but turned out to be a delightful, if a trifle expensive restaurant – Chez Gerdi. The meal started with a complimentary glass of Cava and a small portion of gazpacho, as we perused the menu the discussion turned to putting off our night sail and enjoying a long boozy lunch and an afternoon snooze. It is such a privilege to have such freedom – “it’s nice here let’s stay”. As it turned out we had a long but unboozy lunch, got to the supermarket, Penny satisfied her shopping itch in the local boutiques and with the anchorage again filling with yachts we decided to set sail, leaving just an hour later than planned.
It was Stephens first night sail and the first for many years for Penny, they couldn’t have asked for a more enchanting night. An hour after leaving we were treated to a magnificent sunset, the sky was full of wispy clouds that reflected amazing colors long after the sun had disappeared. 

And, we were actually sailing for the first time in days, squeezing 5-6kts out of the 11kts of wind. 

As darkness fell, being a moonless night, the stars were spectacular. We managed to sail for nearly six hours but gradually the wind died and we were forced to turn the motor on again. The wind was on the beam and the sea calm, so we had little heal and the ride was smooth. During our watches there was enough traffic to keep us interested and awake and the boys on watch at 6am were treated to the sun rising above the cliffs of Mallorca. Penny and I had dolphins swimming at our bow, one turned his head and looked us straight in the eye, we both agreed he’d come to say hello.

We are now in Puerto Soller on the north coast of Mallorca, when we arrived yesterday we were keen to get tied up to a dock for the night, to fill with water, dump rubbish, get some wifi etc. etc. and we needed to top up with fuel. The marina was full but we managed to reserve a berth for the next night. The area outside the marina was crowded so we tucked ourselves under the cliffs in a protected corner and anchored in 20m just out of the bay, where we had space to ourselves. It is all very pretty and as Penny commented “not a bad place to queue for petrol”.

  
While we ate supper we were joined by another Oyster, who promptly turned on all his deck and spreader lights. We decided to join the party and switched on ours, as it turned out it was entirely appropriate. Our guide book tells us that the 15th July is the day for the local festival of the Virgin de Carmen. The Bay was surrounded by torch lights, fireworks were lit and a small water borne procession carrying the Madonna a blaze with light, bizarrely they past us just a few feet from our stern, our brightly lit mast greeting them.

Puerto Soller is a nice little town with all the facilities we need, so once stern to on our berth we set about our tasks for the day. It is so hot and so much more humid here that even the smallest effort makes us drip with sweat, so we work slowly. We miss being at anchor and being able to cool off in the sea but it is much easier to lug the shopping and laundry on and off the boat while tied up.

In the evening we took the tram five miles inland to the old village of Soller to explore and find supper. The area was once a wealthy and thriving orange and lemon exporting port and we travel up the valley passing obviously once grand villas and acres of citrus groves. The village itself had a gentle feel to it, the normal narrow streets and a typical overly large church, all built of mellow colored stone. We ate in a charming courtyard garden behind a small hotel, and decided this was a good introduction to Mallorca.

The past week has been spent circumnavigating Ibiza, sailing from one cala (cove) to another. They really are beautiful it’s just a shame that at the head of each one the beach areas are so built up. Sitting in our cockpit if you look one way there is just blue sea, dramatic cliffs and tree covered hills.

In the other direction are hotels, some high rise others more tasteful, beach bars, restaurants and people, so many people. Every inch of beach is covered in sun beds and sunshades, the buoyed off swimming area is full of swimmers and the restaurants are buzzing. Around us speed boats whiz by pulling kids on floating toys or water skiers, leisure boats come in and out ferrying people on glass bottom boat trips, trips to the next bay, trips out to the islands and then, there are the pedal boats. In what circumstances did someone sit down and actually think – I know what the world needs, a pedal boat shaped like a car with a slide on top?

  
We could really do with going into the marina for a day or two but the prices here are bonkers. The lowest quote for a night we have had is €300 plus water and electricity, three hundred Euros to tie up to a floating piece of wood and use their loos, I think there is a bit of a mismatch in supply and demand. To put that in context I think the very highest fees in the UK are about £70 a day and the main Marina in Palma has just quoted us €120.

So we are at anchor. It’s amazing, day to day, how little we notice the essentials we rely on. That is until you don’t have them, long term anchoring does bring with it a few practical problems.

Water, we can make our own fresh water from sea water to drink, shower, wash up, clean the decks, do the laundry etc etc., and with just two of us onboard we seem to have plenty.

Food, we are using the dingy to go ashore for essentials at the small resort supermarkets, using our stored supplies and are justifying eating out more often than planned, by the fact that anchoring is free.

Rubbish, which builds up surprisingly quickly, despite it being just the two of us, we are taking ashore and using the local bins. This is something we need to think about for the Atlantic crossing, food waste and glass can go into the sea but plastic and similar waste will have to be stored somewhere.

Toilets, we try and use the toilets ashore when possible, we have holding tanks so we can use the toilets onboard until they are full when we either have to sail offshore far enough to empty them or call into a marina to have them pumped out.

Internet, we have a satellite connection, but it is slow and expensive, we use it to download emails to the boat address and grib files ( a type of weather report ), but for anything else we have to take our tech ashore and find a bar that has wifi that we can use. Not so brilliant for blog writing!

Crew changes, Matt and Robyn we put ashore at one of the east coast resorts,  dropping them and their bags at a rickety few sticks on the rocks that we managed to tie the dingy too. Yesterday we had to pull the dingy up on to the beach, obviously not far enough, while ashore the sea got rougher and when we returned it was full of water. Penny and Stephen arrive tomorrow so we are sailing to San Antonio today to try and find a better solution to get them and their bags onboard.

Routine maintenance, there is always something not working on a boat, people joke that cruising is boat maintenance in exotic places.

Yesterday Rick spent a few hours trying to get to the bottom of the problem of our unreliable air conditioning. This would have been much easier had the boat not been rocking and rolling every time a another boat came past, although being at anchor did mean he could dive under the boat to clean the water intakes.

In the anchorage around us there are boats of every shape and size. Some are small yachts, and actually not so small yachts, that I’m sure would love to have watermakers and salitalite coms and others are huge super yachts that have a full staff and no doubt all the amenities of a large hotel. Raya is designed for long term cruising, there is nothing we are desperate for, we are living very comfortably and we love the relaxed nature of being at anchor, I suspect however we will be looking forward to a few nights tied to a pontoon by the time we reach Mallorca.

Sunday 5th July
We have finally arrived in the Ibiza.

 

 
And immeadatly we feel that this is much more like it, much more the Mediterranean we had imagined. Although, I have to admit to writing this at near midnight sitting on deck on anchor watch. We are anchored in an idyllic small cove surrounded by steep rocky cliffs, however, this evening, from nowhere a strong wind has got up. Luckily we are here alone as not many boats have enough anchor chain to anchor in the 25m of depth we have at this spot. So at least it is only our anchor and the cliffs I need worry about. So far things seem to be holding fast.

I am constantly surprised by how changeable the weather conditions are and how badly the weather forecasts predict things. We left Saturday morning having waved Rachael off on the Alicante Airport shuttle bus from Torrovieja the night before. The conditions and forecast was for F4 winds with a 1m swell the wind direction was not great but it was time to get away from the mainland and we prepared ourselves mentally for a slow slog. Within a couple of hours the wind was up to 30kts with a large swell breaking over the bows. We were managing to sail quite fast with reefed main, the staysail and a bit of engine to keep us as high to the wind as possible but were sailing more North than was ideal. By late afternoon we were all feeling quite tired and I was stealing myself to go below and heat through the Rissoto I had prepared for supper. We are still taking seasickness pills for long or rough passages but I think we have pretty much found our sea legs. A huge relief for me having been sea sick all my life  and with my less than auspicious start across Biscay. So it wasn’t the problem of queasiness bothering me as much as managing to move about below and keep hot pans safe.

One benifit of our northerly direction was that we had pretty much followed the coastline and looking at the chart we saw that we could dive behind Punta de la Escaleta that would hopefully give us a bit of protection from the wind and swell and drop the anchor. This would give us time to rest and allow us to eat without deviating from our course too far. The long beach here is Playa de Benidorm and as we came in closer it revealed itself, through the haze, in all its “splendor”. Dozen upon dozen of tall sky scrapers built amongst the rocky headlands with the high hills behind, it looked rather like a set of a Scifi movie.

 

 
The stop was a good move, an hour or so later the four of us felt revived and ready for the rough night ahead. As we motored around the headland Rick noticed that the white horses out to sea looked a lot less and sure enough the wind had reduced, by the time I finished my watch at midnight we were motor sailing in a gentle breeze in almost flat seas. With only the odd tanker to contend with, as we passed through the outfall of the traffic separation system off Cabo de Nao, I enjoyed my watch. Although it did take a few minutes of worry to work out that the light to starboard was not a giant tanker but in fact the moon rising. 

With Matt to help with watches, the night passed quickly and we all got some sleep, when I came on deck to relieve him at 6am the lights and islands of Ibiza were clearly visible.

We took a look at the marina at San Antonio but decided that we could do without another day surrounded by boats and apartment blocks and went just a few miles up the island to Cala Salada, where I sit now. 

We have spent the day swimming and resting, watching the goings on of the other boats including the super yacht anchored next to us. Our nephew Jason who is holidaying in one of the resorts nearby came with a couple of friends to the bay and Matt picked them up in our dingy for a look around Raya. For supper we went back into the bay to eat at the small restaurant.

At one point the afternoon swimming came to an abrupt halt, when Matt took this selfie. My son is mad, we have just identified it as a mature Pelagia Noctiluca, a glow in the dark jelly fish that can give a very painful sting which leaves a mark on the skin. Luckily this one seems to have been asleep!

  

Matt arrived in Almerimar with a tummy bug, looking rather grey and weak from his journey, then not to be out done Rachael woke the next morning feeling just as bad. So with Robyn only having been on the boat once before and my two sick, it was just as well we had planned a “settling in sail” for their first day. We headed to an anchorage just 30 nm away, tucked inside Cabo de Gata. Rachael spent the first hour or so below decks and when she came up to the cockpit and saw the view, the blueness of the sea and the sky, her smile was a picture and I sighed in relief, both were on the mend. 

It was an extremely hot afternoon, with little wind and we all relished the cooling water, the sea temperature has risen six degrees since we left Gibralta now reading 25 but still raising a yelp as we dive off the boat. Rach, Matt and I swam over to the cliffs and snorkeled around the rocky shore, I was pleased to see that there were a surprisingly large number of fish, last time I was in the Med there hardly seemed to be a fish in sight. I love swimming off the boat, Rachael had asked me earlier in the day what was the best and worse things about our new life and diving into clear blue seas has got to be one of my favorite best things, however as I searched for another snorkel, I realized that one of the things I hate is the cupboards, lockers etc having to be so full and well packed, every time you want anything you have to empty them first!

The day ended with us being treated to a magnificent sunset.

  

Monday morning, everyone was feeling much better and up for the day and a half crossing to Ibiza, the wind was strong enough at 12 knots to sail but was right on the nose, so back on came the motor. It was a nice day however with the breeze tempering the heat of the sun and dolphins around to keep us entertained, we motored on for four hours but the going was very slow. 

  

Team Raya went into conference, no flights were booked yet, the Costa Brava Pilot (sailing guide book) indicated that there were some nice anchorages to the northwest of us, the Port of Cartagena with its vast history lay further north and there was an easy flight for Rach from Alicante on Friday night. We turned west and went where the wind was blowing us and finally got the sails full. We had a fantastic two hour sail and anchored for the night at Cala Bardina, a pretty bay well protected from the NE winds by the 244m high headland of Mt Cope.

The next day again with the wind blowing directly at us we motor sailed for five hours to reach Cartagena. We had one anxious moment as we fell foul of an extremely aggressive fishing trawler. Having taken a wide turn to keep clear of him, we thought we were well past any trouble, but I guess his fish finder indicated a new shoal right where we were, as he suddenly started coming up behind us at about fifteen knots. Even on full throttle we can’t do much more than eight knots we tried to turn away but he came very, very close indeed. 

Half an hour later we entered the bay outside Cartagena, we were surrounded by steep barren hills, a huge refinery, anchored tankers and sparcely spaced industry. Our chart plotter indicated that we were heading for the entrance of Peuto de Cartagena, but not until the last minute did the entrance reveal itself. The town has proved to be much the same, real gems of antiquity and great modern architecture, sitting hidden amongst ugly buildings and derelict areas. There is hardly any other tourist around, unfortunate for the city I guess but a refreshing change for us after the past weeks sailing up the crowded Costa del Sol.

The Roman theatre was the highlight, it had been rediscovered when a slum section of the city was being demolished in the 1960’s. The Ministry of Culture has done a great job of reconstructing some areas using pieces of the original material intermingled with new sections, to create an idea of what some areas of it would have looked like, but cleverly showing where the old ends and the new begins. Not an easy job, as in about the 13th century many of the marble blocks and columns were broken up and turned on their side to create the foundations of new building works.

  

Hot and tired we were drawn to the dark cool interior of a nearby bar, the kids recognized the name – La Catedral from their research, as one of the best restaurants in town and so it proved, we stayed for a fantastic lunch.

NOTE TO SELF – if you want to continue to fit into your clothes, you can’t eat and drink like you are on holiday for the whole of the next few years!

We have spent the past few days sailing up the coast of the Costa del Sol. The few hundred metre strip that lies between the sea and the steep craggy hills inland, is shockingly built up. Apartment block, after apartment block after apartment block, interspersed with huge holiday home complexes and stark fronted hotels follow the coastline for miles and miles. Rick and I sit wondering where all the people come from to fill such an abundance of accommodation. There did look to be an incredible coast road to bring all the crowds, we have glimpsed it frequently for almost the whole of the three days sailing, winding its way through the hills and across the valleys on a string of high bridges.

The back drop may have been unchanging but the weather and sailing conditions have not, as everybody has told us the wind here appears to be all or nothing. 

We left Duquesa on Tuesday having said goodbye to Phil and Julia and thanked Kieth and Dianne for a fantastic evening in there beautiful villa, grateful that we seemed to have a bit of wind at last. As soon as we left the marina we realized that we had in fact more than just a bit of wind, it was almost directly behind us, so we flew just the Genoa and the boat sailed along happily at about seven knots. The swell was however right on the beam (side of the boat) so we were  rocking and rolling quite vigorously from side to side, preparation of lunch was a bit harder than normal, luckily Diane had given us the left overs from the BBQ the night before and so I could just pop a sausage in a roll with some HP sauce, job done.

As the afternoon progressed the winds built until we were well reefed in F6-7 we spotted one gust of 60kts, the swell increased as well with one wave actually crashing over the rear quarter into the cockpit. Needless to say we were happy to arrive and tie up at Puerto Feungirola.The wind continued to howl through the night and the forecast for the next day was for much of the same so we holed up and spent the day catching up on the myriad jobs that have built up over the last couple of weeks including giving the dingy some much needed love and attention.

What a difference a day makes, we left early on Wednesday morning heading to an anchorage in the bay at Herradura. There was absolutely no wind and a thick mist came down, hanging heavily in the air, it was quite surreal motoring through a completely still and silent sea, surrounded by nothingness. We were both struggling to keep watch, our eyes straining to find something in the whiteness, grateful again for the AIS system and with our main sail up, not in the hope of it driving us forward, but to make us more visible. We were compensated by the arrival of a huge pod of dolphins, our path took us right through the middle of them, there were dolphins everywhere. 

   

 
  
As we arrived at Herradura the mist cleared and we dropped our anchor at the quiet end of the bay about 300m off the beach. Unfortunately in the time it took for me to swim into the beach and back, we seemed to have put a sign up saying “anchor here”, two boats full of noisy day trippers had anchored within a few metres of us. Rather annoying when they had a square mile of bay to find a space in, finally they left around eight and we had a tranquil night .

We woke to another day of zero winds but thankfully the mist didn’t reappear and we had quite a magical sail, well motor. The sea was dead flat and appeared almost like oil as it reflected the sun, we hardly spotted another vessel for the whole of the six hours, it was as if we had the coast to ourselves, with just the dolphins for company. Again we saw dozens of them, including a mother and calf that swam in our bow wave for a few minutes just under my feet! The landscape had become even more hilly and quite dramatic in places. The buildings had thinned out but been replaced with equally ugly acres of plastic, forming giant polytunnels that meet the demand for fruit and vegetables by the supermarkets of Northern Europe.

 

We are now moored up in Almerimar a rather strange place, a huge but friendly marina that looks like it was built with a whole new town around it. The building looks complete but only half the accommodation is filled, I guess that it may be one of the casualties of the Spanish recession.

Matt, Robyn and Rachael have just arrived (unfortunately Hugo has just started a new job and was unable to join us) and we are planning to head towards Ibiza over the next couple of days.

Where to next?

  

The World may be our Oyster, but our Oyster has a deep draft, so some of the more shallow marinas and anchorages are off limits. Added to that we are trying to work out the best places for our friends and family to join us over the next couple of weeks, carefull planning is required.

We have been kicking our heals in Lagos, waiting for an engineer to look at our freezer. It died on us almost as soon as we left Southampton and typically as soon as he arrived, we switched it on and it began to work perfectly. The problem now is whether, having lost all its contents once, to risk refilling it or not.

To pass the time we have been enjoying the great beaches, swimming and walking. I was surprised to spot all these common plants we attempt to grow in our moist, fertile soil, growing wild in the sand dunes. It certainly makes you wonder why we spend a fortune on compost and fertiliser!?

 

It has been brought to my attention that in the last post rather than ‘we’ washed the last of the Southampton grime from the hull it should read ‘Duncan despite the heat, unstable platform and meagre support from other members of the crew, boldly scrubbed the hull for hours to remove’ the last of the Southampton grime from the hull. I take sole responsibility for the contents of this blog and sincerely apologise for any inconvenience or distress my mistake may have caused. 
  

I woke late this morning having slept for nearly eleven hours, I felt drugged, my head was thick and my limbs were heavy. As the morning progressed I gradually felt worse, everything from my toes to my eyes ached. We had sailed yesterday, a pleasant, breezy, sunny sail with Andy and his charming young family, but this was much more than tired muscles. The centre of my pain was the top of my left arm and across my shoulder, it slowly dawned on me that I am reacting to the yellow fever jab I had last Tuesday. Rick seems okay but we were told any reaction would occur between 3 and 10 days, so fingers crossed he is going to be OK.

Unusually for me I have taken to my bed and I am writing this after another two hour snooze. There are jobs needing to be completed of course, the decks are coated with a lovely mixture of salt and Southampton dust, the sail we dropped into the forward cabin yesterday remains as if a cloud has exploded on the berth but wiil take the two of us to flake and put it away and there are the scheduled spares list to be researched. But I just don’t have the energy. So I am sitting here watching people’s legs pass by the cabin window just feet from our bed and my head, reflecting on how well we have coped with the dramatic change we have undertaken in our lives.

The fact that I am relatively calm about this reduction in privacy is a good example of how well we seemed to be adapting. One of the attractions of our Oyster was the amount of light we have below flooding through our large windows, this does mean however, in the marina, that as people walk past on the dock they seem very close to us. If we are on deck we, and everyone else for that matter, are open to scrutiny. Then there’s all the trades men we have had crawling around the boat, everything they need to get at seem to be under our bed or behind our wardrobe, the phrase ‘airing our dirty linen’ often comes to mind and last but not least there is of course the delight of marina toilets and showers. But it is all part of living on a boat and I have surprised myself with how easily I have accepted it.

Against all initial evidence we have also been gradually managing to cut down on and fit all our belongings into the available space and it seems to have been relatively easy to give our possessions up. Rick, some may be surprised to hear, seems to have set himself the target of living in just three pairs of trousers/shorts and four tops, his wardrobe of designer clothes have been stored away. I gave my lovely Rolex to a friend last week for safe keeping, having already lost a previous version in a tussle with a mooring buoy to the Carribean sea a few years ago and mindful of some of the very poor communities we will be visiting in didn’t seem appropriate attire.

Additionally, we are beginning to cook “proper” food in the galley, ours maybe large for a yacht but is small compared to our kitchen at Ongley and has taken a while to get use to. But I have got on top of cooking with gas and become more organised to cope with the reduction in space. It has now become natural to pump out the sinks after use, to hand wash dishes and use minimal water.

Part of our success with processing this change is that we have been so busy working towards the end result that we haven’t had time to linger on these things. In fact I’m still not sure we quite yet realise what we have done, we are still psychologically, just on holiday.

Yellow Fever update – I am beginning to feel better, Rick a crumpled heap in bed!!!

The sun is shining but it is still chilly on the river in the NE wind, I keep reminding myself that soon we will be escaping to perpetual summer as we sail first to the Med, then the Carribean and on to the South Pacific.

This morning, as we drove out on errands I noticed that spring had arrived, people’s gardens were full of daffs and trees were beginning to blossom. My mind has been so focussed inwards on the boat, I had missed its coming. As a gardener spring is usually the most exciting time of the year and that it hadn’t crossed my mind, has taken me rather by surprise. So I have put on another layer and am writing this in the slight shelter of the coach roof and looking outwards.

This part of the Itchen river is very industrial, so there are not many signs of spring here, however there are plenty of things to see if I you look. There is the constant buzz and activity of small ribs passing by, the odd yacht braving the cold and the sound of a sander as an industrious owner readies his boat for the summer up on the hard. There are dozens of swans on the mud flats newly exposed on the outgoing tide, a cormorant is diving for its lunch and hundreds of seagulls everywhere.

Watching the seagulls is fascinating, the pontoon we are tied up to is made of concrete and  always full of empty cracked muscle shells, this puzzled us for a while, until we saw its ingenious cause. The gulls tussle with the muscles that live on all available surfaces just below the tide line, once they have wrenched one free they fly over to our pontoon, hover about twenty feet up and drop the muscle onto the concrete. With the shell now smashed open they can feed on the flesh inside – clever birds.

Raya has really come together over the last week or so, the salon is now back in one piece, the new electronics are almost finished with the Iridium satellite dome going on as I write and the heating and plumbing are all funtioning. The two fore sails are up and rigged, the main sail has been altered and will be bent on again, as soon as the wind drops and the deck, that was sanded and recauked in the shed during the winter, is having the last few areas finished off. We now have an operating wifi network, so we have internet access and all our devices are linked up and hopefully this afternoon if I can motivate myself to leave this sunny spot we will have a connected printer. And that will mean, I will be able to finish off the accounts this evening, oh joy!

A few of our good friends and future crew joined us for lunch on Sunday to toast Raya and give the extended salon table a work out.

I have spent my first night aboard Raya. She is not really ready, when I arrived with a car load of our belongings last Friday I had to thread my way past the two guys beavering away in the salon, all of theirs and Rick’s tools, a couple of ceiling panels and holes in the floor. The forward cabin has become a disorganised storeroom, we have no means of cooking and the heating is still not working, but we have decided we can cope and next Wednesday we move on permanently!

We spent the day Friday moving two thirds of the contents out of Ongley and into two storage units. The removals guys were so quick and efficient that it was quite a challenge to keep everything organised for its correct destination. We watched in wonder as all our possessions miraculously squashed up into such a small space and both felt a bit odd as our life flashed before our eyes as it was all carried across the lawn.

With everything successfully packed away we returned to Shamrock Quay exhausted – to a very chilly boat. But we have very comfortable new mattresses and silky new fitted sheets, we had bought down our thick winter duvets and a warm furry blanket. Dressed in thermal vests and pyjamas, bed socks and hats we snuggled, giggling like a pair of kids playing camp, under the covers and fell almost immediately sound asleep.

Unfortunately I’m not a great sleeper at the best of times and within a couple of hours I was awake and the strangeness of my new environment kept me that way for most of the night. Boats aren’t quiet places, each has its own symphony of sounds that you gradually get use to as they accompany you through the night. So instead of hooting owls and screeching foxes, I had the tide sloshing against the hull and in place of the sound of the wind rustling through the trees, it was blowing through the rigging and rattling, the not yet connected, Davit drops.

Far too cold to emerge from our warm bed, I lay contemplating my new life. It had struck me during the day that my life is suddenly only accessible by punching a code into a keypad. The storage facility lies behind huge security gates that are accessed, both in and out, by entering a code into a keypad, each individual storage unit can only be opened once you’ve punched in a code to a keypad. Raya lies on a pontoon behind the marina gates again only accessed by punching a code into a keypad, even the marina shower block has its own code and keypad.

There is one difference with Raya however, she might be behind a security fence on one side but on the other side is the River Itchen, the sea and then the rest of the world and that, of course, is the whole point.

Happy New Year.

2015 the year our adventure begins.

All we need is for the house sale to finally go through, our stuff to be stored safely, the student house purchase to come together, Raya’s refit to be completed and our preparations to be finished.

Big breaths, fingers crossed.