Mallorca : 14 June 07
‘There’s a long-standing Spanish joke about a mythical fifth Balearic Island called Majorca (English spelling) inhabited by an estimated 8 million tourists a year’- ‘ The Rough Guide to Spain’ How true!! Most of us don’t even know how to spell or pronounce it correctly!
We had a deadline for heading to Mallorca, which was useful in a way, as we may not have left Ibiza otherwise! Our friend Peter was flying into Palma for a couple of days, so we needed to find a peaceful anchorage and a meeting point that was not too far from the airport. Last time he visited us in Galicia and we still feel guilty that it cost him 120 euros each way in a taxi from the airport. Hence, we were keen to make it somewhat easier for him this time around.
We sailed into Puerto de Andraitx which is protected from all directions except southwest – of course the swell from the SW was already starting to work its way into the bay ahead of the expected winds as we arrived. We were uninspired by the port and decided to try and find something a bit more peaceful for Peters last couple of days of freedom for some time (Small life-changing Diblet on it’s way in 2 months time!) This was not so easy, as everywhere around Palma faces south and the forecast wind direction for 5 days was SE, S, SW, S, SE ! Palma itself is a no-go as it is full and expensive.
We pulled into Santa Ponsa for an uncomfortable night of rolling, as the swell just worked its way round the corner of the bay. We sought relief from seasickness ashore, only to find a hideous overdeveloped, predominantly English egg and chips culture. We absolutely hated it, and only returned to our oscillating home when we could really bear it no longer! However, it served its purpose as a crew pick-up place, and as soon as Peter was aboard the next morning, we were lifting up the anchor to be on our way.
We headed for Cala Portals in the Bay of Palma, solely for the reason that it appeared to offer some small protection from the southerly swell. It also offered excellent swimming, peaceful nights once the tourist boats went home and the most outrageous nudist beach yet!! Of course the boys were quite content here and were happy to spend the whole weekend attached to the binoculars or plopping in for a cool down swim. The small bay that we had chosen to anchor had a beach that was wall-to-wall, or rock-to-rock, naked, bronzed sun-worshippers. Not only that, but as anything goes in the Balearics, naked-lesbian-lilo-cavorting barely raised an eyebrow – not sure about what else it raised – best leave that subject alone!! The only shore-side entertainment was an expensive daytime restaurant – thanks Pete for shouting us poor live-aboards a meal. It was fun to pick a path between the towels and whatever else on the beach – there was no natural path across the beach to the restaurant and there was nowhere to look but down, hoping not to trip over anything hanging in the way !!
Well, Peter sure got his get-away-from-it-all cala experience, but not sure it was good for the old men’s blood pressure!!
We thought the modern 4-masted ship was only a spectator until they came in on starboard to the windward mark and caused the spectator boats to scatter, as they forced the small (!) super-yacht (120 foot plus) to overstand the mark. We watched from a safe distance, amongst the other relative superyachts – including those with helicopters for tenders.
After this excitement we motored on to Puerto Andraitx to see if it was more welcoming second time around. We spoke to Roamer on the way by radio and they were up for heading to the same place.
Well, the swell had gone, and all was quiet, but we had no less than 8 anchoring attempts, including changing to a different type of anchor - before moving halfway out of the bay, well beyond the protection of the breakwater – we might as well have been back in Ibiza!! At the end of 40m of chain, we decided that we were unlikely to drag very far, and let’s face it, where we were there was no-one to drag onto!! Roamer got in first time, but later regretted their decision to move closer to the town – after several anchoring attempts. For future reference – stay close to the starboard buoys for best holding.
Up early the next morning due to anchor worry – we stocked up in the excellent supermarket and headed up to the north of the island – reputed to be of outstanding natural beauty and a world away from Magaluf and other Majorcan resorts of the south.
Puerto Soller
The north coast of Mallorca is absolutely stunning, truly naturally beautiful and completely undeveloped. We pulled into a semi-circular natural bay at Puerto de Soller. This is a very protected anchorage, the only harbor of refuge in 50 miles of tramontana-facing, rugged inhospitable coast.
We plopped our anchor in, it held perfectly 1st time and we knew that Soller wanted us to stay! The main town of Soller is set 2 miles away from the port – a first defence against pirate attacks of old. It is visited best by vintage tram. At the end of the tramway one can take the Victorian electric railway to Palma,crossing through and over the mountainous hills, orange, lemon and olive groves with breath taking scenery.We caught the early morning tram with the school kids off to school with their backpacks, and the hikers, who get dropped off early in the morning at the top of the mountain and walk down – very sensible.
Palma was very hot, despite the sea breeze, dusty and expensive, but lovely. You have to be very very careful where you eat and drink. The places in the backstreets where a few old Spanish people congregate are the best bet, but when you are hot and thirsty and standing outside a roadside restaurant/bar that serves big beers it’s easy to just sit down and order large beer. Stuart got more than he bargained for in the way of a litre of beer – costing an unbelievable €12.95 – even he said it didn’t taste so good when he knew what it cost! A litre of same in the supermarket is 1 euro.
Palma has the most amazing food market that we have ever seen :
While we were in Puerto Soller we experienced the strange ‘seiche’ that occurs around the Balearics. The seiche was recently brought to everyones attention in a yachting monthly article from a couple who had their yacht in Cuitadella in Menorca a while back – without warning the water level in the harbour dropped by a couple of meters, leaving fishing boats high and dry on the mud and pulling boats from their moorings, then followed by the sudden rushing in and out of water from the port causing much damage to the moored yachts. We did not suffer anything like this in Soller, but the boats rotated around their anchors in strong currents swishing through the bay. We lost an oar from the dinghy where it was tied to the end of the pontoon while we were ashore – a current must have pushed it under the end of the pontoon and ripped it off. We spent the night disentangling ourselves from 2 other yachts who had both anchored too close, and as there was no wind, and strong currents pushing us all over the place we frequently found ourselves attached to the other boats. At daybreak we pulled in some chain to pull ourselves clear of the 2 yachts, and then found we were dragging swiftly across the bay – we couldn’t really understand this as we still had 15m of chain out – and this should hold us with no wind. We pulled the anchor up and then understood the problem – the constant circling in the night had would the chain around the flukes of the anchor and tripped the anchor out. We cleared the whole mess and went and anchored somewhere else for a couple of hours kip.
We filled the water tanks uneventfully at the superyacht quay for €4 and set off to Cala Engossaubas on the south coast of the NE peninsula of the island. It still feels weird to watch your anchor set in the sand 25 feet below. We had a swim in beautiful warm, clear, jellyfish-free water, had some lunch, and with an iffy forecast we moved into the bay of Puerto de Pollensa.
On the way out of the cala in the main channel I saw a large black fin appear for 5 seconds and slowly disappear never to emerge again – I looked in all the books we have on board and I could not make it match anything other than a shark ! Eek!
Pollensa is tucked so far down the end of a large bay that the anchorage is protected from most directions. We anchored successfully in the weed here, although others (Moyle Rose and Roamer) had some trouble getting their anchors to set.
Ashore, we found an English owned internet café for Rick, and they agreed to show the Americas cup for us in the afternoon. NZ won that day, so we all got very drunk to celebrate. Unfortunately we also picked up some kind of stomach bug there. Pollensa was a nice buzzy town, but full of tourists, so we were quite happy to move on to Menorca from here - on an Americas cup rest day of course!!
Menorca : 28 June 2007
First stop Cuitadella. This long narrow inlet is surrounded by an ancient fortified town, used by Romans, Moors, and raided by Turks. It is a very impressive little port where passenger ferries just fit in the gap, causing lots of wash to the boats moored along the sides. It is amazing to see these ferries turn around in a gap just a few feet wider than their length – I wouldn’t have wanted to have been the first captain to have to try it! As we motored around the port lights came on and we were shuffled off to tie up in a tiny cala opposite the yacht club – which has been turned into a small marina with lazy lines. No-one is allowed to be at large in the port when the ferry is coming or going.
Despite our continuing stomach bugs we enjoyed a fine meal at a quayside restaurant . The old town is a real joy to wander amongst the tiny streets. Menorca has a different feel than Ibiza and Mallorca – it seems to have kept its soul ! It is very Spanish (well Menorcan really!) and the tourist trade is more relaxed and up market.
After seeing Rick off in his taxi, and another restful night tied ashore, we headed around the north of the island next, to Cala Algayerens, beautiful undeveloped beach with no shore facilities at all. It was great swimming and we gave the boat a good clean, to clear off the city dust that had accumulated. It was the weekend, so next day every Spanish person with a small motor boat came to anchor in the bay – there was room for everyone though so it was no problem. We estimated 120 boats were there in the day. At night they mostly went home, and about 8 boats were left to enjoy the peace and quiet.
Cuitadella was closed due to 1m water oscillations, which we assume to be another seiche. So we headed on around to Cala Covas on the south side. It is reputed to be the most spectacular cala of the Balearics, containing nearly 150 caves, some of which are prehistoric, and some still inhabited by hippies (when the warden is not around to shoo them off) It is a tiny cove with many rocks just under the water near the edge, so it required a complicated manoevre to fit into a slot amongst the few other yachts here. After circling for some minutes to prepare all lines, fenders, dinghy with oars, and anchor. First we dropped the anchor into a sand patch in the centre of the cala, and reverse into a spot, allowing chain to run out and stopping within a metre of the rocks. Then I launched the dinghy and rowed lines ashore to find suitable rocks to tie them to, before Stu pulled the lines in and kept us pulled off the underwater rocks. All this has to be done as quick as possible to avoid being blown onto the other yachts. We executed it all without embarrassment, and settled in for a very quiet night. Again, no facilities, bars, no mobile phone signal, but Navtex still worked so we knew that we only had one night here before we had to start seeking shelter from strong winds again.
It is a very spooky place at night – surrounded by all those dark caves – we were glad to be in the company of several other yachts – although there was no danger at all.
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| Cova d’en Xoroi from the sea |
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| A cruise ship slides past us as we cross the channel by dinghy |
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| Cala Taulera |
Here we watched the last of the Americas cup races and when we got back to the boat, the Team NZ flag was flown at half mast. The Swiss had sadly managed to keep their ill-gotten gains.
As we are anchored just off the beach for the entrance to the Fort Isabel II on La Mola island, it beckoned an exploration. It has only been open to the public for a couple of years, previously being populated by the Spanish army, and housing a prison for those opposed to the Franco regime. The fort itself was built to repel the French (who wanted the port as a refuge between France and Algeria) and the English ( who wanted it as a base between Malta and Gibraltar). It was very successful, as once built, it was never attacked, and its cannons were never fired in anger. The architecture is fascinating, every stone hand-carved and every feature perfectly aligned. It is a work of art, particularly the galleries where soldiers armed with rifles could defend the double moat from a land based attack. Looking through the doors of these rooms, is like looking in an infinity mirror. It also house a 15 inch Vickers battery cannon; last test-fired in 1991, the Mahon residents were warned prior to firing, as it made their windows rattle! . It can penetrate 36cm of armour plate at 23km. Given the number of French and English boats in the anchorage, you could forgive them for thinking themselves under threat again!
We sat out our first gale at anchor here- which was entirely uneventful except for a couple of French boats dragging their anchors in the early hours. Quelle Surprise!
We made a trip up to town together for the evening to see the fishing boat blessing festival – there were lots of boats accompanying the 3 fishing boats out to the harbour entrance, but none of the expected dancing and music on the quay – unusual for Spain, they tend to celebrate everything with some fireworks at least.
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| Kate tries to attract Peter Stringfellow’s attention –but he was just playing it cool! |
Most people are here waiting for the right weather slot to make the 200 mile trip to Sardinia. It is an excellent place to stock up and get weather forecasts etc. When we arrived here we realized that we had only been in the Balearics for 4 weeks, and we were already at the point closest to Sardinia. We decided that we had been hurrying through and should slow down a bit and just enjoy being here. Two weeks later we are still in Mahon, but then so are Roamer, Will You and Moyle Rose – it’s just too good to leave. Roamer and Will You will eventually leave for Sardinia from here when the weather is settled again. Both boats have target destinations for the autumn that are earlier than ours for different reasons. We realize that we are able to take a bit more time to enjoy the island, and hope to visit the calas on the north east side before we move on east.
We had had good reason to stay here for these 2 weeks – the weather just has not reached its summer stability yet – probably something to do with the same weather systems ravaging the UK at the moment, the tail end is upsetting the normal Med highs and lows– at least it isn’t raining here though! We couldn’t think of a more pleasant harbor to be anchored in while the winds sort themselves out, and more pleasant company to share it with.
17th July 2007
Addaya and Fornells
‘Moyle Rose’ , ‘Roamer’ and ‘Will You’ moved on within a couple of days of writing this, so, friendless and partied out with headed for some R&R round the north tip of Menorca.
First stop Addaya – some local knowledge had prepared us for the dogleg entrance through the rocks – it is Ok once you are inside the deep wooded cala but only a fool would attempt it for the first time in any northerly wind or swell. Luckily it was flat calm for us. We motored slowly up through the packed moorings, expecting the water to shoal well before there was any space to anchor, but actually there is plenty of room to anchor in a perfectly peaceful setting, beyond the moorings, deep inland almost isolated from the world. You could happily spend months in here, without any knowledge of the sea conditions outside. It was a beautiful place to rest and swim in water at 30+ Degrees, but shoreside activities were soon exhausted. On the quay close to the anchorage/marina the road leads through neat little plots and bungalows reminiscent of a characterless suburban new town, leading to a couple of purpose-built holiday bar-restaurants including the ubiquitous Irish bar, complete with Shamrock symbol. A somewhat longer trip ashore by dinghy takes you almost out of the Cala and then back in to a second bay to the old fishing quay, complete with toothless grannies, dogs and children. The atmosphere somewhat more attractive to us, the Spanish tourist/English tourist divide was evident in the differences between the two sites.
After a couple of days to chill we headed on west a few miles to Fornells. Our friend Rick had told us a lot about the fabulous sailing school (Menorca Sailing) at Ses Salines at the head of this large cala, so we headed up and anchored off the school for several days, while the wind blew it’s now customary 30 knots during the day. At least we had a lot of entertainment watching both novices and experts practicing their windsurfing and dinghy sailing – feeling slightly jealous that we couldn’t join in. The kit and the training both seemed to be superb, so if anyone is looking for a watersports holiday option – this comes highly recommended. And I’m not just saying that because we used their wifi internet connection for free for a few days!!
A trip ashore to Fornells town was rewarded by it being the weekend of the San Antoni festival. Our understanding of this is a bit patchy, but it seems to be a longstanding elaborate and exciting spectacle of horseman/woman-ship and bravado by the participating spectators.
The boisterous stallions dance into a packed sawdust ring, to an ever-repeating tune played by a very long-suffering youth brass-band. The horses are goaded by the crowd, and encouraged by the riders to rear-up on their hind-legs as they dance, surging through the mass of people, so that the courageous ones can attempt to touch the ceremonial breastplate of the horse by diving under it – this being good luck. Survival of this act could be considered very good luck, whether it brings additional fortune is debatable. The Red-cross were on hand to deal with crushing and stampeding injuries, but amazingly we saw none. A real blow for Health and Safety and Risk Assessment specialists across the world!
Alas Med-weather usually means that you wait for a forecast of no wind, so as to avoid the Golfe du Lion gale leftovers. So we motor-sailed for 33 hours and arrived at Porto Conte on the north west coast of Sardinia, looking forward to a new language, culture and island.
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