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Welcome to this a bumper issue of Nadine's Balearics Blog. We've seen many nice places and some fascinating sights, including some original Med mooring techniques! The Balearic trip started by leaving Almerimar for the long hop to Formentera and working our way through the islands ending in Mahon

We left Almerimar on a warm spring evening in the company of Lady B with Mary & Helmut, bound for Formentera 250 miles away. A 48 hour largely uneventful journey with insufficient wind most of the way, meant that we never switched off the engine the whole way. Still the weather was good and we saw at least 3 separate pods of dolphins, several at night racing along beside us illuminated by the bioluminescence. If you've never seen bioluminescence, it’s caused by millions of tiny sea creatures causing a neon glow wherever the water is disturbed, like in waves and the wash of a boat or the wake of a speeding dolphin.

The only other occurrence was Sara’s night sighting of a large and very dark shape travelling towards us, passing close by. The 'vessel' only showed red and green nav lights as per a sailing vessel, but had no mast. The following day the mystery unfolded, we were passing close to a submarine exercise area, what Sara must have seen was a submarine missing its steaming light.

We arrived at Formentera, the smallest and southernmost of the main Balearic Islands. The scenery was very different from southern Spain, much less touristy and almost clear waters; you could certainly see the type of bottom you were anchoring in. We set the CQR anchor several times on the hard sand and it didn't bite, just as we had been warned. Eventually we just laid to the weight of the chain and kept a good lookout for dragging. The following morning we decided to move a few miles north to the nudist beach bay at Espalmador, although still too cold for tourists.



Lady B anchored in Espalmador
We had a forecast of strong winds and spent 4 days sitting out 25-30 knot winds. We took the opportunity to try out our new and untried Spade anchor which has received rave reviews. As soon as it touched the bottom it bit into the hard white sand and never moved throughout.

During the next few days we spent time walking along the beautiful shore with Mary, Helmut & Max the dog, had meals on both boats and games of chess and scrabble. Great people to spend some time with.

After a few days we upped anchor and travelled to the west side of Ibiza to the busy port of San Antonio. As we came past Isla Velde we could see the cloud above the island forming like from a boiling kettle then evaporating as it left the island.

After checking in at the marina office and a light snack at a seafront bar, the team went in search of an internet café and a laundrette. Some enterprising person recognising two of the most useful services a travelling yachtie requires had housed both in the same building! We also found one of the smallest and best stocked chandleries anywhere. We took the opportunity to sort a few things like replace the backup VHF antenna and remount the wind generator which collapsed in Gib.

Whilst in San Antonio we all (except Max) took the bus to Ibiza town (as we were on the wrong side of the Island) which was fun to do. Ibiza town is a busy place where most of the island’s inhabitants live. Certainly geared towards shopping and tourists, we were astounded to find one shop wanting €40 for a simple straw beach bag, we could have bought in Morocco for €2 maximum.

As we wandered around the old town high up over the harbour, we discovered that like Elvis, Jesus is enjoying a slight change of occupation. He now includes decoration and gardening in his service offering.In case you need his help, here’s his number. Jesus 31 25 14

We were motivated to move on from San Antonio when the rate doubled at the month end to €32 per night. We travelled a few miles north to a lovely cala with a small island near the entrance connected to the mainland by a sandy isthmus. We spent the night on a free mooring, and although calm had one of the rolliest nights so far.

The following morning we intended to move north a couple of calas, we decided as it was a lovely day to proceed directly to Andratx on Mallorca the largest of the Balearic group of islands. We arrived in Andratx in the late afternoon and anchored in the outer harbour behind another (bigger, newer and much more expensive) fully toyed up Rassy. Next morning we got the only free space on the town quay, only €8 per night including water and electricity.

We took the Sunday bus into Palma and went to the Palma Boat Show, about a quarter of the size of the Southampton boat Show but better value at only €5. Just across the road from the boat show is the famous cathedral, which has central pillars 43m high.

Back in Andratx that evening we enjoyed a pizza in a quayside restaurant. As we sat just across the road from the local fishing boats, Kevin could hear Morse code 'Dah de dit dit' repeated over several minutes, he said he would decipher it when back on the boat as we don’t use Morse code any longer. We must have been aboard too long; as the penny eventually dropped we were listening to the restaurants microwave oven controls!

We returned to Palma again the following morning for some shopping and sightseeing. We also took the opportunity to arrive unannounced at a friends business, just to say hello, we thought it would be rude not to pop in while we were in town.

Our friend is MD of a super yacht painting company based in Palma. We didn’t realise they employed 250 people and it’s a very busy place, so we felt a little embarrassed arriving unannounced, but he was good enough to slot us in for a quick chat and catch up.

The yachts are protected with a custom made covers which reach down to the water line and then they are painted, whilst afloat! The finish is amazing and meticulous, a quality at least the equal of an expensive car paint job and considering the size of the job and its location, probably better.

As time was short we scrapped the shopping expedition, had lunch then took the 100 year old wooden train to Soller an hours ride away, on a delightful journey literally through the mountains. Soller is a great little town with an equally old looking wooden tram from the train station to the port of Soller a couple of miles further on.

Whilst waiting 45 minutes for a bus back to Andratx, we got to watch a most unusual bus passenger, poor old boy. He would queue up to board the first available bus then after boarding he would change his mind, get off and then wait until the doors had closed before trying to regain entry and then change his mind again. Following this he would chase the bus out of the depot, the driver now clearly ignoring his request. We thought he was unsure which bus he required, but he repeated his antics 4 or 5 times before we finally caught our own bus.

Back in Andratx we had been annexed by a group of Germans on a rented Bavaria. They boasted proudly that they had destroyed both a mainsail and spinnaker in the previous few days. When asked how much broken gear we had suffered since leaving the UK we proudly boasted nothing we could remember, certainly nothing of any consequence. Kevin remembered he had been told in the past it is unwise to 'talk it up' as we were about to discover.

The following day we left nice and early for yet another motor up the coast past Palma for an overnight stop before jumping the 40 miles to Menorca. We pulled into a lovely cala for a lunch stop and then pressed on for the night anchorage. We selected a sheltered bay called Puerto Colonia de Saint Jordi to drop a hook in almost clear water. After dropping the anchor Kevin remembered something he’d read about setting a tripping line, and we weren't sure the anchor wasn't dragging. So we winched up the chain until it stopped with a graunch. We tried twice more without success so let the chain back out. For the first time ever we had a fouled anchor. No real problem we simply had to launch the dinghy and drop a loop of line down the chain and pull the anchor out the way it had caught.

After about ten minutes Kevin was all ready and started to pull the anchor with the rib, in reverse. After about 1 minute the outboard came to a spluttering halt, it was overheating and there was no longer any cooling water coming out. Fortunately the anchor was free and Sara winched it up. Sadly our new anchor suffered a badly bent shank, which considering the very light conditions was quite concerning. We'll see how good the 'guaranteed not to break' guarantee is. Moral: You shouldn't talk it up! We changed back to the CQR and dropped it in a sandy bay around the corner.

This problem with the outboard led us to head for Puerto De Pollenca where the local Yamaha agent is located. A nice town in the heart of the tourist area set in a large bay several miles across protected on three sides. We walked down to the Yamaha dealer before lunch; he collected the outboard and then returned it repaired a couple of days later. Clearly what we needed was an anchoring master class and unknowingly we were about to get one! Later in the afternoon three senior gentlemen from the north of England arrived in their chartered Beneteau 38 looking for an overnight berth.

Anchoring Master class Day 1
Day 1 begins with the skipper passing close by boats moored stern to the quay with their bow lines stretching out far in front. He then simply reverses into the vacant berth multi storey car park style. No he didn’t, the prop, that spinny thing has a taste for bow lines and wraps itself firmly around said prop. The boat comes to a dead stop lying across several moored boats.

Much consternation from the moored boat owners does little to deter our skipper as he wanders the deck wondering what to do, without a concern for damage to his boat or any others, after all it’s not his boat, he's only rented it for a week or so. Advice to set a bow anchor to keep our skipper’s boat off moored ones is eventually heeded. The skipper throws the rib into the water with attitude; again, it's not his. He then proceeds to demonstrate his skills further, by rowing his rib backwards whilst facing the direction of travel, innovative stuff.

One boat's length away from his boat our skipper dumps anchor and chain over the side. Then we were treated to an even more impressive rowing technique, that of rowing standing up whilst facing the wrong way!

Yachties know an anchor with chain and warp needs at least 5 times the depth of water to get a good hold, but once on board our skipper hauls in the anchor rode and pulls himself clear with just half the recommended amount of line, impressive stuff, how does he do it?
A diver is summoned, and expected in twenty or so minutes. In the meantime our skipper demonstrates to his crew that he can simply untangle the mess from above the water line in the dinghy.


About 90 minutes later the diver arrives with his job still awaiting him. Once in the water the diver clears the prop two minutes, and €100 better off departs. Our skipper now oversees the manhandling of his yacht into the berth. He has already recovered and stowed the Rib, although the kedge anchor still sits on the bottom, its function dutifully completed. Time for a beer and shower ready for Day 2.

Day 2. Engine running our skipper confidently motors out of the berth whilst his crew hastily pull in the anchor line before the skipper overtakes the anchor. Crew calls for him to stop, so the skipper puts his yacht hard astern, crew prepare to tear fingers off holding the shortened line of the now reversing yacht. Following a subsequent call from the other crew to stop our skipper comes forward from his helm to personally supervise the crew’s foredeck fiasco. It appears the kedge is heavier than when dropped, could it be fouled?

Clearly it has, so our skipper then drops the main anchor and it wraps itself around the kedge anchor, purpose uncertain. Eventually the offending chain is brought up on the end of the anchor and the crew does well not to lose his boathook as they lift the chain off the anchor! Master class complete we watch the skipper motor out at high speed, clearly a job well done, and an example to take note of (not).

We couldn't wait to put our new found anchoring skills to good use so left Pollenca the following morning for the 39 mile crossing to Cuidadela. We enjoyed 20 knots on the nose again. Sailing is often like cycling, you always seem to be going uphill! As we approached the harbour three red lights came on to greet us. A ferry was approaching and we would have to wait. The ferry arrived at speed and entered the narrow fairway between the high sided walls of the harbour doing at least 10 knots. The signals changed 30 minutes later and we motored in to the narrow harbour between two walls of rock looking for a berth. We tied up at the club nautico quay and once we had tied up the marinero appeared. We now ask 'how much' before staying in a harbour. €29 was all we needed to know to decide we were staying somewhere else. We couldn't leave immediately as the ferry was about to leave again. The wash and close proximity of the departing ferry and subsequent fishing boats proved we'd made the right choice. You can see from the picture how close the ferry is as it accelerates out of the harbour, in the summer months the visiting yachts tied to the quay are rafted up three wide.

20 minutes along the coast we pulled into a narrow but pretty cala (navigable inlet) again between rock walls, but this time quiet peaceful and free! The water was crystal clear and we could see the sandy bottom clearly. We had now changed to our Bruce anchor, which dug in easily. 6.30 the following morning Kevin was awoken by loud talking in English. He went up on deck but could see no signs of life in the overlooking holiday villas. The boat was however being approached by three young ladies out for an early (or maybe late) swim! The brave one swam around the back of the boat and was attempting to climb aboard when Sara popped her head out and surprised her enough to drop quickly back into the water. Pleasantries were exchanged and they swam back from whence they came.

After breakfast we began the 35 mile passage to Mahon, Menorca’s capital. We stopped for lunch in a pretty cala with beach and overhanging restaurants. The only boat in the cala we were again drawing interest from the early season visitors, but no swimmers this time! We motored out and then in to Cala Covas, said to be amongst the prettiest calas in all the Balearics. A lovely, but tiny cala with barely enough room for a couple of yachts. As the bottom could be foul we had only stopped for a look.

The approach to Mahon is wide, but Kevin still couldn’t see it until we had almost past it. Once in we motored for several miles along a beautiful and interesting inlet frequented by yachts, fishing boats and large passenger ferries and cruise ships.

Like most Balearic harbours there are more boats than moorings available, so to help meet this demand several wooden rafts have been anchored off the shore, complete with water electricity and refuse collection. We moored Nadine to one such raft called Isla Clementina. Mahon is for us the jewel in the Balearic crown, historic, attractive, spacious, and old with no audible night life. The views from the town across the cala from the town are impressive and the whole thing very tastefully done. It is clear that this harbour has had significant influence from different cultures over the centuries and its naval significance over the millennia is immediately apparent.

We are due to depart the Balearics in a couple of days (Mid May) bound for Sardinia and our first experience of Italy. The trip is just less than 200 miles and should take two days. Before leaving we are hoping to meet up with another yacht from Almerimar who is crossing single handed and due to meet relatives from the same plane as us! We are greatly looking forward to their arrival. Bye for now Kevin & Sara