25th June - still at Port Andratx

[Note from Leighton: To date, Cathy has been Blogger-In-Chief, Although if asked, I have provided the odd input. The B-I-C is stuck into a good book at the moment so I thought it was time that I should have a go. I like Cathy's style and format - so will keep to the form.]


Soundtrack: Verdi's opera La Traviata...(seriously!) It is 10:00 PM and we are in the cloisters
of Castell de Son Mas in the town of Of Andratx. The boat is anchored in the Port of Andratx
about 6KM away - we are up the hill attending an open air production of the Opera.

High Point: Tickets are only 15 Euros each!

Low Point: There are no tickets available.

They could only fit 300 plastic chairs in the Cloisters (actually the open air central courtyard
of the castle with a sweeping stone staircase up to the pillared balcony used as the backdrop to
the stage. We were told that all the tickets had been sold out almost a year in advance! We did
our persuasive best to get in, but there was no room inside, even for standing. We were told we
could stand outside and look through the gate.

We had spotted a stack of "extra" plastic chairs in our earlier walk behind the castle - So When
the big 20 foot iron gates were closed we had two of the best seats in the house - all for free.

What a performance! We counted 87 in the cast and another 40 in the orchestra. The opera was sung in Italian with Mallorcan (not Spanish) Supra-titles projected on the castle wall - so it was
good we had seen the opera before and thus knew the plot.We shared a taxi with an Irish couple (Pat & Margaret) back to Port Andratx after the performance and it seemed a bit surreal rowing the dinghy back to the boat on a mirror calm harbour at 1:00 AM in the morning. A great evening out.

CABRERA ISLAND VISITING PERMIT

We are still waiting to get a permit to go to Cabrera Island. - The government office that issues
the permits in Palma de Mallorca is only open on weekdays from 10:00 - 14:00. Their staff of two seem to spend most of this time drinking coffee and not answering the telephone. As it is a day sail from Port Andratx we are trying to book a specific date so we can plan our passage to be
able to arrive at the appointed time. Without a permit it is not possible to even enter the
protected zone around the island. We have faxed a second application for 30 June - 1 July, as we
were told these dates were available - but still no reply. Very frustrating to wait. I have been reading a wonderful book, "The Middle Sea", by John Julius Norwich - a history of the Mediterranean and these very islands were of course, staging posts for the Crusades. I can understand the frustrations of the armies waiting aboard the galleons and them in-fighting among themselves! Happily this has not happened on Makarma.

VISIT TO PALMA

We have decided to take a break and head inland to Palma, Mallorca. The L102 bus takes us there in just over an hour - and through some of the Grockle hot-spots along the coast road such as Peguera and Santa Ponca - these are tourist concentration camps with bars and sand buckets! - to be avoided at all cost! On to Palma.

We entered the city along the water front. I can honestly say that we have never seen some many super-yachts in one place! (It would be interesting to explore the tax laws of Mallorca in more detail?). Aside from wall-to-wall super-yachts the Cathedral La Sue is perhaps the most
impressive building on the water front and dominates the city with its presence. Palma's central
bus station is housed in a modern underground building that integrates the city's rail and small
underground system. I am not certain why the UK does not understand about joined-up transprtation - but here it is at its best and We could take lessons from this very small island.

Cathy's chief navigator on land as well as on the boat - and we head off on foot across the city
toward the Cathedral. When we get there, we discover the Palace of l'Almudaina museum opposite the cathedral has free admission for EU visitors - so a quick flash of the driver's license and we are in the palace. This is an old Moorish palace here the present King of Spain has his
Mallorcan office and entertains foreign visitors. Full of tapestries and paintings from the
period I am reading about in "The Middle Sea."

One of the highlights was the massive City market where we loaded up with fresh fruit (including the new season 's figs) to eat on the bus on our trip back to Port Andratx. Makarma was exactly where we had left her and we had had a really good day out on solid ground.

We are getting used to going ashore and having hot showers at the town quay. We are getting a bit itchy and want to sail on - but Andratx has got a LOT going for it: The beautiful view of the
mountains from the cockpit, free anchoring in a very sheltered harbour, Internet access from the
boat, clean toilets and showers, a supermarket, a well stocked ironmonger...and in the best
part of the island by far. But sailing is what we are here for and new places are waiting out there to be discovered.

Tuesday 23rd June – Port Andratx, Mallorca

Soundtrack: Countless invisible cicadas are making the hot air pulsate around us as we climb up through the pine woods to reach a look-out torre overlooking Dragonera Island. Taking the local bus to get there gives us a glimpse of the countryside to the north of the island, and the walk ashore makes a welcome change.

High Point: We have the luxury of a proper shower for the first time since leaving the Spanish mainland, courtesy of the excellent port authority public showers. Our frugality with water has paid off, with over 200 litres still left in our tanks after well over two weeks.

Low Point: Applying for a cruising permit to anchor overnight in the restricted marine reserve at Cabrera island, only to be told after a 3 day wait that we’re on the waiting list, and to call back at the end of the week to see if we can go. It’s not looking promising.

Apart from the land breeze off Ibiza which gave us one hour’s sailing in the morning, we motored all the 49 miles across the Mallorca channel to reach Port Andratx late last Friday afternoon. A pretty uneventful crossing in flat calm, the patchy cloud at least keeping the temperature down in the absence of wind.

Port Andratx is a large sheltered harbour to the northwest of Mallorca with an attractive seafront, and beyond it, a range of wooded mountains. A large marina occupies one side and the fishing boats moor up on the quay the other side. Not feeling quite up to berthing bows-to on the public quay as we haven’t done it before, we anchor at the furthest end of the harbour out of the fairway. Roger, a long-term resident here living on an Alan Pape designed ketch, helpfully takes our kedge in his dinghy to secure our stern as there’s no swinging room. Our kedge is a Flook, an Australian anchor which is supposed to ‘fly’ when you throw it into the water. Roger just dumped it into the water, and we pulled on the line to set it, which seems to work OK.

We spend the weekend re-stocking our depleted stores; cleaning; washing - and because there’s free wi-fi - catching up on email. At long last, it’s calm enough to patch the bimini as well. It is a bit of a pig to do and we have to replace one of the zips with Velcro but it should last now until the end of the season without falling to bits.

Seeing that the fishermen are selling the catch off the fishing boats when they come in late Monday afternoon, we row ashore and buy a couple of fresh tuna steaks for supper. The selection of fish is considerably smaller than what we were used to seeing on offer every day at Ayamonte market, but we’re not knocking it - it’s the first time we’ve had fresh fish for a while.

Wednesday 16th June – In relaxed cruising mode (most of the time), Ibiza

Soundtrack: The steady beat of a bongo drum drifts over the water to mark the setting of the sun. Large numbers of hippies visit Ibiza attracted by the island’s laid-back attitude and they hang out in family groups on remote beaches like this one at Cala Benirras - mostly completely naked and dreadlocked, with an assortment of kids and mongrels in tow.

High Point: Snorkelling in crystal clear warm water every day. Our pilot tells us that the Med’s water is so clear is because it is in effect devoid of marine life. Underwater there’s a desert of sand, punctuated by beds of seagrass. Nevertheless we see a variety of different types of fish among the rocks and in the shade around the boat to be interesting. We attract more by feeding them scraps of stale bread.

Low Point: Finding ourselves without the comfort and security of marinas takes some getting used to. When we find out the marina on Formentera charges 121 euros for a 40ft boat for the night, and 260 euros in August, we realise that staying in a marina isn’t even an occasional treat, it is out of the question. Tied up in a berth the boat doesn’t roll all night, and we can sleep in the certainty that we’ll be in the same place the next morning. We’ve also been used to power and water on demand. Anchoring instead changes the game completely. We’ve having to be very frugal with water and we watch our energy consumption closely to keep the batteries from running down. We’re learning a lot about where to anchor too. When the wind blows up (which it has done on four out of our nine days), the priority is to get shelter from the swell. Getting out of the wind is secondary. When you can’t set anything down without it sliding away, and when you can’t stand up without holding on to something, life onboard quickly gets very wearing. And then there are the other boats in the anchorage……..we’ve had a yacht trip our anchor by dragging their own anchor across our chain, leaving us to drift down on a catamaran behind us; we’ve had boats anchor so close we have to fend them off when we swing. One day our anchor collected a large rock wedged into it, causing us to drag when it blew up; one night we pulled back on our chain so far we banged into a red buoy – ironically enough it had a notice saying ‘Do not anchor here’……And we’ve only been at this anchoring lark for a week or two!

With predominantly easterlies for the last week, we chose to sail our way slowly round the west and north side of Ibiza island, anchoring in a suitable cala each night. The coves – calas – in Ibiza are deep water rocky inlets clad in pine trees, typically shelving steeply to a sandy beach at one end. They look idyllic but if the swell comes in, it’s like being stuck inside a washing machine, and the sound of the waves breaking on the sides can seem alarmingly close. In these conditions we’re fearful to leave the boat for long, which is frustrating as we’d love to explore the island interior more.

Whilst in Cala Benirras, we meet up with two experienced Med boats and we discover our anchoring mishaps are nothing out of the ordinary. James on a Centurion 47 is trying to get back home to Languedoc. Steve and Eva on Magic have been cruising in the Med for six years and are now making their way to Brazil. Kedi - their Turkish swimming cat – keeps watch on the coachroof, a model of feline composure. A towel hangs beside the boat’s boarding ladder that the cat uses to climb down into the water and go for a swim before scrambling back onboard.

We’ve done all of 45 miles in the 9 days since we got here, half sailing, half motoring. Now we’re ready for a good wind to take us across to Mallorca 50 miles away to the NE.

Monday 8th June – At anchor in Cala Cabrita, Formentera

Soundtrack: Stan Getz and Astrid Gilberto on the CD player, accompanied by the smell of chickpeas and chorizo cooking for supper.

High Point: A family of four large dolphins came to visit us some 15 miles from Ibiza. They darted from side to side under the bow and swam alongside for some minutes. We stood in the bow watching them watch us. We’re amused by their evident curiosity about us. Leighton got some good photos.

Low Point: The anchorage off the beach at Altea was dire. The first night we rolled in a persistent swell, and we toyed with leaving, but there are few anchorages here sheltered from the south and southwest. The second night the wind blew up 30 knots off the land for three hours, forcing us to keep an anchor watch. The only good thing about it was discovering that our Bugel is really up to the job of keeping us well hooked.

We cross the zero meridian shortly after leaving the anchorage on Sunday 7th June. We’re now east of the line! After an uncomfortable two hours motoring across a lumpy swell left over from the strong southwesterlies in Alboran and Palos, we find the wind. A broad reach in a southerly F4 for most of the passage goes a long way to restoring our spirits which have been dampened by two disturbed nights at the anchorage. It’s rough, but we make good progress.

It is a milestone for us to be leaving the Spanish mainland behind. Our first landfall in Spain was in June 2006 at La Coruna, and we’ve been cruising in the Iberian peninsular ever since. It is good to be moving on now with our sights set on the eastern Med. The visibility is crystal clear, and we can see the peaks of Ibiza well before we lose sight of the mainland. Closing the island of Formentera, we have to keep checking our distance as the coast looks much closer than it actually is. Towards evening a westerly F5 piped up giving us a fast downwind finish to get us in and anchored before nightfall. 73 miles in 14 hours is good going for us. It’s heaven to get out of the wind and swell. We sleep well.

How to get good weather forecasts without Internet access has been a worry for us. We can get Navtex but we find it unreliable and the bulletins are inconveniently timed so we often miss them. We realise now that we already have the solution to hand onboard. It’s called the HF radio. The P3 upgrade we got for the Pactor modem has been a great investment, giving us the lightning speed of 1400 bytes/minute! The catalogue of weather info that we can request from Winlink includes grib files; Aemet’s Spanish coastal waters forecasts and MetArea III forecasts. We’re getting to know Jean-Claude in Lausanne (HB9MM) very well. He is the station we’re connecting to at the moment to download this stuff every day.

5th June - Altea

Soundtrack: The windgen doing its stuff in the gusty breeze, topping up our batteries.

High Point: For the last few days, calm seas and slight winds predominantly from behind the beam have given us some delightful sailing conditions. It’s mostly warm and sunny, so the going is easy.

Low Point: A rolly anchorage in Cala de Genoveses just past Cabo de Gata gave us a restless night’s sleep which made us irritable with each other the next day, picking quarrels over trifles. Stupid.

Leaving Almerimar, a good downwind sail of 36 miles – goosewinging part of the way- brought us past Cabo de Gata, where the weather is inclined to be awful. So we approached with some trepidation – well I did anyway. As it turned out, passing the high cliffs (which reminded us of Prawle Point) was a bit of a non-event. The wind was benignly astern and the sea was calm. We turned into a sheltered cala just to leeward of the headland to anchor for the night. For the first time, the water was clear enough for us to see the sandy bottom. That’s what we’ve been waiting for.

In Almerimar, Leighton did some electrical repairs to a boat whose home port is further up the coast, and whilst onboard got chatting with the owner about good places to anchor. Cala de Genoveses was one of his recommendations. It is an idyllic spot in the Cabo de Gata national park, which is protected by law from development. A beach, a shallow bowl of scrub and cacti, with a steep backdrop of mountains, and the remains of a swell coming ashore that gave us that restless night.

The next day we followed the coast northwards – sailing when we could, and motoring when the wind fell light. We left the wild mountainous scenery behind to reach Garrucha some 30 miles away. It is an unappealing holiday resort with a small marina where the marinero gave us a distinctly cool reception. He kept us on the fuel pontoon overnight, rafted up with other passing cruising yachts. The rubber tyres against the pontoon left filthy black marks along the hull. Not a place to recommend.

Next morning was misty and dead calm. As luck would have it, a light breeze soon filled in from ESE, allowing us to sail – albeit rather slowly - at Makarma’s sweet spot of 60 degrees off the wind until it finally died mid-afternoon. We dropped anchor in the bay of La Azohia, just east of Mazarron. It was a quiet sort of place with a diving school ashore, protected by a rocky headland topped with an old hexagonal stone tower. Fish farms lay below, marked by a cardinal in a boat. We enjoyed a peaceful evening and night, but by early the next morning a slight swell encouraged us to make an early start. We motored past the rocky headland of Cabo Tinoso and found a land breeze to take us across Cartagena bay. Unlike yesterday’s course, we pass close to the land, and visibility is better, giving us plenty of interest to see. We are joined by three other yachts all going in the same way – round Cabo de Palos. Our little flotilla motorsailed into a F4 easterly until with Palos lighthouse abeam to port, we could unroll the jib and sail a more northerly course between two sets of shallows off the point. We’d intended to anchor in Mar Menor, an inland sea protected by a spit of land which you enter via a canal at Tomas-Mestre. We were shocked to see wall to wall high-rises on the shoreline – not quite the Morbihan we’d imagined, more Miami beach. With the wind now astern, and still early afternoon, we decide to sail on to Torrevieja instead and anchor inside the harbour – a wonderfully sheltered place. A good day’s run for us - 48.5 miles.

With the promise of a southerly breeze up to F5, we are expecting a fast sail up the coast the next day. We actually get a F4 for a couple of hours and that’s it, so we have to donk it for the rest of the day. Ah well – at least it’s a chance to do some cleaning and to bone up on the history of the Med, courtesy of John Julius Norwich – that most erudite and readable of historians. Instead of reaching Marina Greenwich right on the meridian as we’d planned, we stop off a few miles short in the marina at Altea instead. Irritatingly, the wind is getting up just as we get in.

With berths now charged at summer rates, we only spend one night there – making full use of the free Wifi and showers. After filling up with water, doing the washing and restocking with food, we leave to anchor in the bay outside for the next couple of nights in readiness for the 70 mile passage to Ibiza.