Balearics
June 26, 2008
The first task of the day was to refuel and return the rental car. It was minutely inspected for scratches before a grudging sign off. Back to DoodleBug and rig for sea.
We dropped our mooring at 1000
hours and set sail for Puerta de
Mahon on the southeast coast of
Menorca. Menorca is the most
easterly of a string of five
islands that are collectively
called the Islas Baleares
(Balearics). The islands lie off
the coast of Spain and have been
owned by Spain since the Treaty of
Amiens in 1802.
We motored in very light winds and
after an hour or so, the haze of
industrial pollution from the
mainland had hidden Corsica from
view. The day's excitement was
passing a boat length from a large
sea turtle who glowered at us, as
only a reptile can. At 1930 hours,
the radar showed a single track,
nearly 12 miles long and from the
north. The radar track terminated
at DoodleBug and looked similar to
that made by aircraft. Only there
were no aircraft and it persisted
for several hours. It took us
several minutes to identify it as
a huge, long period swell from the
west and the light wind was
tilting DoodleBug so that the
radar only saw it on the
"uphill" side. The swell
promised "weather" to
the west of us, as did the
forecast.
June 27, 2008
0300
hours and we are close hauled
under Genoa and Main with 10 knots
of wind.
Our position was N 41 12.8' E 006
28.7' at 0431 hours UTM.
By 0900 hours we had reefed back
to Genoa and Mizzen and the wind
had increased to 23 knots and was
just behind the beam. Thus the
apparent wind put us on a close
reach with short steep waves in
the 4 to 5 feet range. This was
not going to last of course and by
noon we had 25 knots true with the
apparent wind over 30 knots and
with waves in the 10 foot range.
We were sailing with heavily
reefed Genoa plus mizzen and still
crossing the ground at better than
8 knots. The steep waves hitting
the side of DoodleBug were neither
pleasant nor safe and we headed up
to a close reach to get more of an
angle on them. By 1730 hours the
waves were even larger and we
turned back to the south to take
them on the stern quarter. The
wind did drop slightly to around
15 knots true and we returned to
full sail with the apparent wind
just behind the beam. The waves
were out of proportion to the wind
speed and out of every dozen or
score of waves, would come a near
vertical triplet of 15 footers
with their tops curling. I sat in
the cockpit watching for them and
would veer off an additional 10
degrees or so when they arrived.
Thus it was that we headed into the night and the wind built back up to the 28 knot range as the sun dropped in the sky. The moon would not rise until around 0230 hours and I hate rough seas in pitch darkness. A large pod of dolphins began to jump around our bows and I could see them "surfing" down the faces of the bigger waves. Fun for some but a welcome visit nonetheless.
The heavier than forecast weather
also meant that we were
approaching our destination much
earlier than planned. At 2300
hours we passed into the shelter
of "La Mola" and the
waves died away. We entered the
harbor of Puerto de Mahon shortly
afterwards and then turned to
starboard to enter the narrow
channel leading to the Cala
Tauleron. This was made exciting
because not only could we not see
the channel we were heading into,
it was also on the starboard side
of a large green beacon. This
usually means that you are
heading aground but the radar on
it's quarter mile range setting
showed a clear but narrow passage.
We crept along this with cliffs on
one side and reefs on the other
and with a strange noise that we
both heard. Annette identified the
noise as the sound of seagulls on
the nearby cliffs, clucking their
disapproval of our passage. A turn
in the channel and then ahead of
us were ranks of anchor lights. We
could not tell if they were on
buoys or anchors, or even on
docks, so we just dropped our hook
in the clearest spot we found at
2350 hours. We are here! Menorca.
Position N 39 52.6' E 004 18.4'
June 28, 2008
Position
N 39 52.6' E 004 18.4'
Dawn brought clarity and
understanding to last night's
arrival. We blearily looked out of
the cockpit and found ourselves
anchored just east of the center
of the channel leading to the
anchorage. A few early risers were
passing between DoodleBug and the
shore without hitting us, so we
went back to our bunks. When we
finally rolled out of bed, some of
the anchored boats had departed
and we sat with coffee in the
cockpit deciding where we should
move and reanchor. The wind was
blowing briskly through the narrow
anchorage, a fact which
discourages dinghy travel. As we
discussed the relative merits of
two possible locations, two large
power boats arrived and occupied
both positions. Easy. We let out
more chain and decided we were
fine exactly where we already lay
to anchor.
The wind blew strongly for the
remainder of the day although
there was little motion aboard. We
called a "rest" day and
just hung aboard, catching up on
the log and planning routes. We do
not like to leave DB for extended
periods unless we are sure that
she is "safe".
This means at a marina, on a
secure mooring or at an uncrowded
anchorage with room for mistakes.
By this I mean that if the anchor
should drag, there are no jagged
rocks under our lee. We could
tolerate embarrassment but do not
want damage. The plan of this
harbor shows commercial, military
and fishing sections but we are
over two dinghy miles from access
to stores, restaurants, banks and
the like. For our needs, a better
anchorage lies to the north of us
in Cala Fornells. We decided to
head there tomorrow and watched
the seagulls as they perched in
ranks along the cliff top watching
us.
June 29, 2008
Position
N 40 03.1' E 004 08.0'
At 0740 hours we raised anchor and
set sail for Cala Fornells. The
exit from the anchorage was far
less exciting in daylight and we
were soon motoring to the north,
just off the wind and with the
mainsail rigged. The coast is all
rugged cliffs and headlands and we
rounded the "Punta de Es
Morter" (what does "Morter"
mean?) and entered the Cala
beyond, amongst a cloud of
surfboarders and Sunfish. The
anchorage shown in the guide was
filled with mooring buoys and we
picked up one of these and tied
on. An attendant arrived after we
had done all of the work and he
presumably felt that his
assistance would no longer be
needed. He issued us a
"permit" to use the
buoy. We asked him what was the
cost and he responded that
"whatever we
thought was correct" would be
OK. It never is however, so we
insisted he name a price. We
agreed on a total of 10 euros for
the two nights we intend to stay
here. This compares with the 34
euros per night in Calvi, Corsica.
We dinghied ashore for lunch as
Annette has been lusting after
authentic Spanish Paella. I used
to fix paella for her when we were
courting. As I remember, I used to
brown some rice in butter in a
saucepan and then dump the
contents of a can on top of this.
It turns out that "tourist
paella" uses the same recipe.
Her search will continue for the
Spanish Paella Grail. Somewhere
the authentic article is to be
found.
We explored the small town of
Fornells and found the car rental
office which was closed for
Sunday. They had a contact
telephone number displayed in the
window and we called this and
booked a car for the morrow.
June 30, 2008
This
morning we dinghied ashore and
picked up our rental car for the
day. The first task was to find a
Spanish SIM card for our cell
phone. We had bought a card in
Corsica but it had to be
registered on the French system
before we could add pre-paid
minutes. By the time we waited
through the French working man's
week-end and the two working days
to update something that was
already computerized, we were
headed out again. The French
update never made it.
The car rental lady directed us to
a phone store in the town of
Ferreries and although she did not
speak English, we seemed to have
remembered enough Spanish that we
soon found the store. We now have
our 6th. SIM card in our phone
since it was purchased in Turkey.
Next stop was lunch at a
harbor side restaurant at the Port
of Ciutadella on the west coast of
Menorca. This was one of those
memorable lunches and it was
excellent (www.recibaria.com). We
ordered the "black paella" and
Annette has finally achieved her
paella goal. The meal is "black"
because it is colored with squid
ink. I cannot remember ever
deliberately eating any food that
is colored black. OK, except for
liquorice, English blood sausage
and pre-school dirt - on a dare.
The food tasted fine but I do not
intend to repeat the experience. I
like my peas green, my carrots
orange and no square things
touching the round things.....
Paella sated, we headed to the
east end of the island to visit
"La Mola". This is the fortress
under which we had lain at anchor
when we first arrived in Menorca.
The fortress was built in 1875 and
was awesome. It had never been
attacked and was built to dissuade
British occupation at the time
that relations were not so good
between England and France.
Because it was never attacked, it
remains in pretty good shape. The
only damaged section was a tower
that contained a powder magazine
that had been struck by lightning
and had subsequently blown up, big
time. The balance of the structure
was a fortification that was
completed a decade after the
American Civil War and four
decades before the First World
War. In other words, during a time
of rapid technological change in
weaponry. La Mola was designed for
cannon and by the time it was
completed, it was already
obsolete. Nevertheless it was an
amazing maze, with multilayered
warrens of firing positions,
magazines, barracks, moats,
bastions and redoubts. Much of the
structure was underground and one
section contained underground
firing positions stretching for
nearly a quarter mile. The
defenses had been carved from
solid rock and then lined with
stone. Annette was excited to note
that one well was occupied by a
live bat who studiously ignored
us.
We were short cutting the site
tour route when a young lady
driving a van stopped to enquire
our intentions. We explained that
we were heading for the "Vickers
Gun" and she offered us a ride.
She was heading there to give a
guided tour and we accepted both
the ride and the tour with
alacrity.
In the late 1920s the Spanish government bought a dozen 15 inch naval guns from the Vickers gun works in England for Island defense. One of these guns was installed at La Mola in 1935 and one supposes that this was permitted by the British Government because Spain had no warships that could carry such a weapon, Nazi Germany was on the rise and by supplying weaponry to Franco, his allegiances might be swayed (Spain remained neutral). The 15 inch naval gun was used by newly constructed British warships around 1915 and could accurately throw a shell some 20 miles. It was the peak of weapons technology at the time it was made. The Menorca gun was last fired in 1991 and is probably the only one extant on the planet. It was built to be used on a battleship and weighs 200 tons with it's mounting. We toured the magazine that had been carved in solid rock. The machine room was intact and contained racks of batteries for the lighting but the gun itself was operated hydraulically. The "machine room" had a huge hydraulic accumulator and a diesel driven hydraulic pump. The diesel engine still had racks of compressed air bottles to start it. I was fascinated to note that the installation required that the gun be returned to its forward position in order to load it. The shell and powder handling would have rotated with the turret aboard a dreadnought but the magazine was fixed for the land installation. We told the guide that we wanted to fire the gun and two English girls in the tour group nodded their heads in agreement ( they were about 6 years old and 8 years old respectively). Our guide was horrified and exclaimed, "Why would you do that?". "For the noise!", we all exclaimed. The guide said a single shot would cost about one million pesetas. "Do you take credit cards?" I enquired. This was a great visit and a must see for future visits. No, we didn't get to shoot the gun.
July 1, 2008
Position N 39 25.3' E 003 16.0'
Last night we hoisted our outboard
motor and dinghy aboard and stowed
them for passage. I meant also to
flight-check the engine but
decided to leave it for the
morrow. We always check things
like engine oil level, ATF fluid,
belt tightness, on a daily basis
but this morning something was
wrong. The belt was missing from
our 24 volt alternator and had
broken. In the past five years
this is perhaps the third belt we
have replaced. We had intended to
drop our mooring at 0530 hours but
the repair delayed this by a whole
ten minutes. The sun was just
peeking above the horizon as we
passed Cabo Cavalleria and
marveled at the geologic layers
displayed on the sea cliffs.
The wind remained very light all
day and we motor sailed from the
north of Menorca to the south of
the adjacent island of Mallorca.
Just after lunch we spotted the
first and only flying fish that we
have seen in the Med. Annette had
just been grumbling about the lack
of wildlife sightings when it
popped up to taunt her.
As we passed along the coast of Mallorca, the multi-storey hotels stood shoulder to shoulder, lining both the beaches and the cliff tops. There were dozens of yachts passing along the coast and this should have warned us. At 1500 hours we entered Port Colom and cruised the field of mooring buoys looking for one that was unoccupied. There were none. We dropped anchor in one of the few remaining spots in the harbor where it might be legal to do so at 1520 hours. We are in Mallorca.
July 2, 2008
We had a visit from the Port Authorities last night and they had asked us to stop by their office this morning to
submit
paperwork. I did not mind doing
this, because the last time we had
submitted boat documents was in
Sicily. The lady at the office was
very pleasant and did not ask for
our Passports or the original of
our boat registration but merely
typed the contents of the form I
had submitted into her computer.
She charged us 18 euros for our
two nights of anchorage and gave
us a card with two reference
numbers on it for use in other
Spanish ports. I mention this
because the guide book says we
should have arrived at a "Port of
Entry", flown our yellow
quarantine flag and stopped by
Customs, Immigration and Harbor
Master. Naturally we had done none
of these. Nevertheless, we are now
safely "in the system" and have
numbers to prove it.
We wandered throughout the town of
Portocolom before tackling our
lunch. The lady at the tourist
information office had given
Annette a brochure which listed
"local food specialties". One item
was "roast suckling pig with roast
potatoes and artichoke" and
Annette asked where would be a
good place to get some. "Oh, not
around here", the lady said, "That
is home cooking". She had
indicated a possible restaurant on
the outskirts of town and the map
showed that it might be accessible
by dinghy. To reach the fabled
eatery, we dinghied outside the
harbor and braved the waves to
travel east to Cala Marcal,
perhaps a mile from the harbor
entrance. The waves were in the
two to three feet range and were
reflected back from the sea-cliffs
making a very confused seaway.
From a dinghy they look enormous
but we were on a mission. We
entered the Cala (small inlet) and
it's far end was a crowded sand
beach with dozens of swimmers in
the sea. At the west side was a
tiny crack in the rocks and we
squeezed through this in the
dinghy to enter a dry drainage
channel. We had to hike across
someone's backyard to the street
but they were friendly enough and
didn't shoot or anything. We
actually found the restaurant,
they were open, they had suckling
pork on the menu and it was
delicious! Reversing our course
across the backyard we re-entered
the drainage and found our dinghy
intact and floating gently in it's
hidden channel. "This is how
pirates get lunch!" I remarked.
We plan to leave tomorrow around lunch time for an anchorage at the southwest end of Mallorca. We have been monitoring the weather carefully and are trying to dodge a low pressure system that has formed just north of us.
July 3, 2008
This
morning I was awoken by a heavy
roll on DoodleBug that was putting
unexpected strains on my bladder.
The wind had dropped and rotated
so that the dozen or so vessels
that were unable to get a mooring,
had all changed headings.
DoodleBug was now laying broadside
to the swell that was entering the
harbor, hence the disturbed night.
When I checked the anchor at first
light, the two men on the nearby
catamaran did not look happy. We
were close to them but not that
close, what was their problem?
They raised their anchor and
motored past us. "Good morning", I
said cheerily, thinking they were
moving because of our proximity.
As they passed they explained that
during the night their RIB
(expensive and heavy type of
dinghy) with a new 30 HP outboard
had gone missing. It had obviously
been ripped off during the night
and must have cost better than
$12,000. Not happy campers. When I
spoke to them later they also
mentioned that the 200 visitor's
moorings are occupied by local
boats on a permanent basis. Even
when the latter are gone for
several weeks, they tie a dinghy
to "their" buoy to lay claim to
it.
Annette did some last minute
shopping and we raised anchor at
1015 hours to head for Cala
Carabol on the southwestern tip of
Mallorca. The wind was just off to
the port of our heading and we
motor sailed with the mainsail. The
total distance covered today was
only 16 miles but the forecast
predicts a wind reversal around
2000 hours with gale force winds
to the northeast of us. At 1310
hours we dropped anchor in the bay
at N 39 16.6' E 003 02.4'. There
were perhaps a dozen or more boats
in the bay and beyond a sandy
beach with swimmers and
sunbathers. The day was warm and I
decided it would be a good time to
check the anchor, the anodes and
the condition of the hull. I dug
out my swim fins, mask and
flippers and made my first swim of
the year without a wetsuit.
Annette was finally shamed into
getting wet and together we
decided to swim ashore and check
out the concrete pill boxes we
could see, as well as the usual
search for interesting shells and
buried pirate treasure. We swam
ashore and discovered that this is
a nudist beach. Now most of those
people should really wear clothes,
even in private but there were a
quintet of goddesses at the south
end of the beach - not that I
noticed you understand. The
concrete pill boxes were the usual
receptacles of both inorganic and
organic human waste and not that
interesting. I assume they were
built at the time of the Spanish
Civil war.
Around 1900 hours the bay began to
empty and the nudists began to put
on clothes and move inland. We
were now down to just three
vessels in the anchorage. We had
seen this phenomenon from Italy
onwards. It seems that many people
book two weeks at a marina. They
then motor out to a beach every
morning and return back to their
marina berth before nightfall.
Very few anchor out for the night.
The wind was gradually increasing
in strength and we were on a lee
shore with two to three foot waves
coming at us. It was increasingly
uncomfortable and I was beginning
to wonder about the weather
forecast. At 1940 hours the wind
died, then switched direction by
180 degrees and within two
minutes, was blowing at near
twenty knots. We were now in a
"sheltered" anchorage instead of
on a lee shore and we took time to
reset the anchor. The wind died
down to 10 knots but the swells
unfortunately remembered the
previous couple of days and were
hitting our stern. Maybe in an
hour or so..... We sail
tomorrow for Ibiza.
July 4, 2008
Position N 38 43.8' E 001 24.0' at
1620 hours UTM
Last night the swell obviously did
not bother me, as I awoke to the
dulcet tones of an alarm clock at
0500 hours. It was dark and quiet
in the anchorage and when I poked
my head out of the cockpit, I
discovered there was only one
other vessel in the small bay. We
raised anchor at 0525 hours and
set sail for Clot d'es Llamp on
the east coast of Isla Ibiza. The
weather forecast we were using
showed winds of 15 knots from
behind for most of the day before
they swung around to the south. In
fact the promised winds held at 7
or 8 knots and thus we motored
with the mainsail adding it's
assistance of a fraction of a
knot. At 0755 hours we reviewed
the latest forecast with regard to
the expected winds over the next
few days and changed course for
Ensenada del Cabrito on the Isla
de Fermentera. This move would
make today a longer run but would
cut 30 miles of headwinds from our
next leg.
We celebrated the Fourth of July
by firing off three flares that
had expiration dates of four years
ago. No we didn't fire them into
the air. Are you crazy? There
would have been helicopters and
rescue boats everywhere if we had
done that. We checked the radar to
make sure that there was no other
vessel within 6 miles and then
fired the flares at an angle so
that they went into the sea. These
were 25 mm flares fired from a
"Very" pistol just like in the WW
II movies. The first flare did not
fire, even though I made two
attempts. The second flare hit the
water about 30 feet from DoodleBug
and burned brightly underwater.
The third bounced and landed a
hundred feet away burning brightly
on the surface. I tried the first
flare again and this time it did
fire but disappeared into the
depths without igniting. So much
for the fireworks display.
Disposing of flares is
problematic, as obviously firing
them into the air is not a viable
option. Throwing them into a
dumpster is also not socially
responsible, as these fireworks
could get into the hands of
children or spark a conflagration
at sometime in the future. In the
USA you can get rid of expired
flares by delivering them to the
Coast Guard. This of course brings
up the second problem when abroad.
The cheapest flares are those that
are fired from either a 12 gauge
or 25 mm pistol. In certain
countries, such as Australia,
these pistols are classed as
firearms and thus illegal to have
on board. The USA coast guard
"suggest" that you keep your
expired flares on board as well as
the statutory number of "valid
date stamped" flares. The
rationale is that after you have
fired off all of your "fresh"
flares and need more, the stale
ones will probably work just fine
and a statistical sampling by the
scientific staff aboard DoodleBug
have demonstrated that this is
true in two out of three cases. In
certain antipodal countries, the
possession of expired flares
aboard a yacht is illegal. The
third problem is how do you keep a
supply of valid dated flares
aboard. You cannot add them to
your checked luggage at the
airport and the flares have a two
year expiration date. If you try
buying them at some far flung
marina supply, you generally find
that the expiration date is three
weeks hence and the instructions
in Croatian clearly specify that
they are not USCG approved.
We would have kept today's
celebratory flares onboard except
that they were four years out of
date and beginning to bulge
ominously. When dealing with
something the size of a hand
grenade that is designed to
explode then burn, we decided it
was time to part company.
The day continued in a more
tedious manner and as we sailed
between the Island of Ibiza to the
north and Formentera to the south,
the radar showed a swarm of
ferries and pleasure craft, both
power and sail, crisscrossing our
path ahead. We planned to cross
the shallow bank of Bajo d'en Pou
in the pass of Freu Grande between
the islands. The wind had remained
light all day but the swell had
increased to near 5 feet from
directly astern and I expected
this to increase and steepen as we
moved from water depths of over a
thousand feet to the twenty feet
or so across the bank ahead. It
was indeed exciting as we crossed
the bank and reminded us of the
reef passes in the Tuamotus. We
were supposed to make a hard turn
to port as we crossed the bank but
caution prevailed and we eased a
few degrees at a time until we
were clear of the steep waves.
At 1820 hours we picked up a
mooring in Ensenada del Cabrito on
the Island of Formentera. Annette
fixed the
traditional all-America dish of tacos with New Mexico green Hatch chilies in the ground meat, cheddar cheese from the import section of the supermarket in Mallorca, El Paso brand taco shells bought in Darwin, a touch of Louisiana Tabasco bought in Turkey and we were set. Happy Birthday America!
July 5, 2008
This morning we dinghied across a shallow, small boat harbor and beached our dinghy on a strip of sand. A few yards from where we had landed was a dumpster to take our accumulated trash and a few yards further was a
motor-scooter rental store. What a convenience! Scooters are a very practical form of transportation in these Mediterranean countries, provided the weather is clement of course. Many countries we have visited have heard of the "automobile society" but have no clue as to it's actual implementation. Yes, there are cars of every shape and size in profusion but no place to park. Only the French have cottoned on to the concept that a "supermarket" should have a free parking lot attached with shopping carts available. For the rest of the world, the best bet is a scooter parked on the sidewalk.
We are anchored on the northwest
coast of Formentera and our first
destination was south, to the
lighthouse on Cap de Barbaria.
Traffic was very light and we
diverted to follow a faded sign
pointing to Megalithic ruins.
These were dated a couple of
thousand years BC and the jumble
of rocks outlining the foundations
of the ancient buildings were
fenced off from tourist attack.
Our course was next set for the
most easterly point of the island
at Punta d'es Far. On our return
we stopped for lunch at a
restaurant at Raco de sa Pujada.
The view from the restaurant
perched on high cliffs was
fantastic. A pity the food really
sucked. Another fifty dollar
"Euro-lunch". We did discover the
meaning of a sign we have seen on
many islands and which had puzzled
us. It is a small metal rectangle
divided by a diagonal. The upper
triangle is painted white and the
lower is black. The waiter at the
restaurant explained that this
means "legal hunting". If you can
find anything edible, you can
shoot it on that property. We did
see pheasants on our Megalithic
side-trip but were told that
rabbits were a more likely target.
Back at DoodleBug we noticed the
yacht anchored behind us sported
an American flag. This was SV
"Belle". Kenneth and Annalise
invited us aboard to share a glass
of wine as a belated celebration
of the Fourth of July. Annalise
has spent the past ten years
living on Mallorca. She said that
it was a wonderful place to live
but for Americans suffering from
the dollar / euro exchange rate
woes, has become too expensive to
remain.