Cala Portals (Porto Veile) Mark IV

September 8 - 13  -  2012

Now that the boat’s damage had been assessed we needed to wait for the quote to be provided, then it had to be approved by the insurance company then the actual work had to be booked in at the boat yard. Rather than spend 60 Euro a day to sit in the marina we happily returned to Cala Portals to wait for the bureaucratic  wheels to turn in much more pleasant surroundings.

With all the charter boats still in port on the Saturday it was very tight getting out of the marina at lunch time. Alcheringa doesn’t have a bow thruster so isn’t quite as manoeuvrable in close quarters but after a ninety-seven point turn and a bit of pushing off other boats we cleared La Lonja marina and eased over to the fuel dock to fill up for only the second time since we bought the yacht. The boat has a turbocharged, 75 horsepower Yanmar diesel which so far has proved extremely economical to run. Once out of the harbour we got the sails up as there was a good 15 knot breeze blowing. Of course it was coming from the direction we wanted to go but it’s not far to Cala Portals and we were in no rush so we tacked back and forwards and had a very enjoyable afternoon sail back to our favourite place to veg out on Mallorca.

One of the many classic yachts that called in to Cala Portals

We then had six more great days of swimming, snorkelling and soaking up the sun as we waited for arrangements to be confirmed for the repairs.  The water is so clean here it’s fantastic. You can almost always see very clearly all the way to the bottom. One of our amusing pastimes is feeding our food scraps to the fish. They’ve obviously become very used to having all the boats around and have developed an uncanny ability to know when food’s going to be on offer. Sometimes we’ll look around our boat and hardly see a fish. Sit down in the cockpit for a meal and by the time you’re finished eating the boat is surrounded by eager mouths waiting for any leftovers. When you throw anything over there’s a piranha like charge to the spot it’s heading long before the titbit even hits the water. We also struggled to find anything they wouldn’t eat. We learned good sport is feeding them something to big to gulp down in one mouth full. The sight of the fastest fish to it grabbing a wedge of lemon then watching the yellow streak created he charges all over the place underwater trying to keep his hard won prize away from the pursuing pack of his cousins provided much merriment when we had nothing better to do.

Karen throws a handfull of noodles for the fish. (seen beside Marc's shoulder)

Gone the second it lands

As always. The place was nice and quiet at night but really hopped during the day with boats coming in and sunlovers all over the rocks and beaches. With a mix superyachts, some magnificent classic sail boats, charter and cruising yachts plus lots of runabouts of all shapes and sizes, it does get very crowded on the water but there’s a such a good atmosphere in the bay we saw very few dramas. If someone anchored too close, they would simply move a bit. One group came in with four boats plus jet skis and all rafted up together near us then proceeded to have a floating birthday party complete with a saxophonist, singer and PA system for entertainment. Very cool.

A floating birthday party in Cala Portals - Mallorca

Complete with saxophonist and vocalist on the flybridge

We did however explore a nice, very small cove just inside the eastern headland that could only be reached by dingy. What had once been a fisherman’s stone hut was built into the cliff face but long since abandoned. It was quite secluded and always had it to ourselves as we spent a number of afternoon’s there reading and soaking up the autumn sun while Marc occupied himself onboard. No wonder we love this place.

Our hidden spot in Cala Portals.

A change in wind direction and strength was predicted for Thursday night so we moved over to the corner of the bay near the ancient tombs early in the morning while we still had the pick of the place. We would be more protected here for our final night before going back to Palma as we’d now got everything in place for the boat to go into the boatyard on Friday morning.

We anchored near tombs from time of the Phoenician period around 300BC.

Through the day Cala Portals began filling with far more yachts than usual, obviously heading in to shelter from the coming wind change. Late afternoon a charter yacht came into the bay and dropped anchor between us and a catamaran beside us but closer in to the beach and put very little chain out. We indicated to him that we felt he was a bit too close for when the wind direction changed that night but he simply said something in German and ignored us. He and his crew then proceeded to get stuck into a couple of litre bottles of spirits. Not a good sign. An hour later another yacht came in which turned out to be their mates and our German friend directed them to anchor even closer to the beach. That was fine while the wind was offshore and we were all hanging bows to the beach but wouldn’t be smart when hanging the other way. The crews of both boats then loaded a mile of booze into their dingys and a small bbq and headed into the beach to party. Things looked like they may get interesting if the wind shift came in as predicted later in the night.

Which it did. Marc had stayed up to keep an eye on things while we went to bed but he woke us about 1.30am. The wind had turned 180 degrees and strengthened up to the predicted 15 to 18 knots. The boats in the bay were all turning to swing stern to the beach. We had a suitable amount of chain out ready to deal with the wind expected but the two charter boats had very little. As we turned and began moving closer to the beach we were also getting closer to the first of the charter yachts. We’d anchored first and had also indicated our concerns about them being too close and the protocol was it was up to them to move if there was a problem, which there now was.

Their boat was swinging back and forwards in an arc that took it very close to the catamaran on one side and us on the other. The crew of the cat were on deck looking very concerned as were we. The last thing we needed was another collision at anchor the night before going into the boatyard so we decided to do something about it. When the boats were at their closest and only a couple of metres apart we began hailing them with a few simple ‘ahoy theres’ with no result. We then began calling them loudly saying that our boats were too close again with no result. We then brought out our very bright spot light and began flashing the portholes trying to wake someone up. The crew of the catamaran joined in with their light with both sides of the yacht now being well and truly illuminated. There was still no movement to be seen. Karen then went for the big gun and appeared on deck with our compressed air fog horn and gave it a single blast. Oh my god! Wasn’t that sucker loud.

At last a head appeared through one of the forward hatches and we yelled to him that they were too close, we were going to hit and they needed to move. He had a look around at us then at the catamaran, promptly disappeared and pulled the hatch closed. We now expected someone to appear in cockpit and get things happening but instead were incredulous when all we saw was the curtains being drawn on their portholes to block out our flashing spotlights.

People who know Karen will be aware that when riled she is not one to ever take a backward step and the tranquillity of Cala Portals was now shattered by a staccato of ear shattering blasts from the fog horn echoing of the cliffs that went on until the air cylinder was exhausted and our ears were ringing. In contrast to Karen, Marc is normally the epitome of British reserve and very quiet. However the arrogant reaction of our neighbours had apparently got under his skin and as the fog horn finally ran out of steam Marc emitted a roaring shout of ‘You! Germans! Move your f..king boat! Now!’ Oh my. We didn’t quite expect that. Funnily enough the whole anchorage seemed to be up and awake by now, that is except the crew of the charter boat. Nothing we could do would elicit any further sign of life aboard it.

In the end we gave up and decided all we could do was keep watch and take action when the boats inevitably came together. Marc was way to riled to sleep and volunteered to stay up for a while longer before handing over to Rob later. We returned to our bunk and set about trying to get some more sleep and did eventually manage to doze off.

That all ended abruptly a couple of hours later when we heard a series of loud thumps right beside our heads prompting us to get on deck pronto. Here we found Marc sitting on our stern rail, holding off the charter boat and kicking its hull as hard as he could.  It was loud outside so it certainly must have been booming below their decks. At last this was something that even our drunken Germans couldn’t ignore and finally the skipper appeared in the cockpit . Marc had the honour of verbalising our vindication with a loud shout of ‘So! Are you going to move your f..king boat now?’ Obviously our mild meerkat was still miffed. However his challenge elicited nothing more than a meek ‘Ja. Yes’ from the German. Not another word. No apology, no anything.

Our normally mild meerkat finally drove off the evil hun.

We watched as they finally up anchored and moved. Unbelievably they went over close to the rocks and simply dropped the anchor and a minimal amount of chain and went back to bed without waiting to see if they were actually going to hold or not.

Proving that sometimes there’s simply no justice in the world, when we arose with the sun just a couple of hours later, his boat was bobbing up and down and while closer to the rocks it was not in contact whereas his friend’s boats was very close to the beach and no doubt tangled in the swim line ropes. Not that they would of known as they slept off their previous night’s booze up.

We sent Marc back to bed and motored out of Cala Portals and headed to the yacht doctors at Audax Boatyard in Palma.

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Back to bloody Palma, yet once more.

September 5-7 - 2012

Wednesday morning we went back into La Lonja Marina in Palma yet again and our theory that Alcheringa had a homing device constantly bringing her back here grew in strength. This time moored right next to the marina office where not surprisingly the wfi was much better than we had previously over on the next finger where we had always been before.

With August gone Europe had at last returned to work. Finally the long running saga of the VHF radio came to a conclusion with the MMSI number changed to ours and the unit refitted in its spot above the nav table. We also bought and had fitted a new battery charger so at least we no longer needed to run our engine when in port to keep the batteries alive.

On Thursday the insurance assessor visited the boat to have a look at the damage from our clash with a charter catamaran in the storm (See the earlier chapter Ambushed by the storm gods in Santa Ponsa). He proved extremely helpful and organised the guys from Audax boatyard, where we’d hauled Alcheringa out for her survey, to come to the boat and provide a quote. If you haven't read the story of how Alcheringa was damaged click back to the chapter here http://dreamtimesail.blogspot.com.es/2012/10/ambushed-by-storm-gods-in-santa-ponsa.html
 



Just some of the scars from Alcheringa's clash with a cat

 

The anchor roller is not really supposed to do a left hand turn

The bad news was the outboard uneconomic to repair. It would need a new carburettor at 800+ Euro (What a rip) as well as other expensive parts plus labour compared to 1000 euro for a new 2.5 Yamaha. Ouch went the credit card but we now have a shiny new outboard. Yay! The insurance better come good.

While all this was happening we made the most of the wfi in the marina and chatted with family and a number of friends back in Australia. It was going to take a few days to arrange insurance approval for the repairs and get the work booked in so rather than staying in the marina packed with charterers again we decided we’d clear out on Saturday and return to Cala Portals until the boatyard was ready for us.

 

The marina is mayhem when all the charter boats are in so we wanted out

Given a choice of being in a beautiful sun drenched bay or pay to be tied up to a wharf it was a very, very easy decision.

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Cala Portals (Porto Veile), a great place to waste time – Around Mallorca beach by beach

September 3-4  -  2012

To be assured of a good anchoring spot in Cala Portals you either get there before the day tripping boats arrive or as they're leaving so we were up early on Monday morning to beat the crowd. There was very little wind so we motored the short distance around the corner with Marc and Karen winging about early start. They’d obviously got too accustomed to the sleep ins of the last week or so.


We arrived at Cala Portals before the hordes that followed. For some reason it was
the day of the massive motorboats. This is only a portion of what were in the bay.

Beautiful Cala Portals next morning before all the day trippers arrived

We were beginning to feel like locals here this being our third visit. We were able to drop anchor in our favourite spot just off the beach in the most sheltered corner of the bay. The only difference to our previous stays was a heavy rock breaker and excavator working on a construction site on the hill. So much for the serenity.

Nothing like a massive rock breaker to enhance the ambience

This time the wind did what was predicted and while we had some rain and overcast in the morning the sunshine took over  for the rest of our stay. As always in Cala Portals it was a case of swim, read, snorkel, tan, a bite to eat, a glass of wine and most of all, relax.

We got word on Tuesday morning that our radio was back at last so we made arrangements to go back to Palma the next day to get it fitted and to have an insurance assessor have a look at the boat so we could arrange repairs.

It may have been a short stay in Cala Portals but it was another good one.

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Ambushed by the storm gods in Santa Ponsa – Around Mallorca beach by beach

August 28  - September 2 -  20012

We left San Telmo mid morning and had a very nice upwind sail to Santa Ponsa on the west coast of Mallorca. The wind started out at 18 to 20 knots so we had the first^t reef in main and reefed genoa reducing the amount of sail up and keeping the boat balanced. We did a long tack out to sea then turned towards the anchorage. The wind progressively eased through the day so we unfurled full headsail and later shook the reef out of the mainsail.

As we approached land the wind kicked back up a little and we flew in at over 7 knots. The boat was sailing so nicely we were sorry to have to pull the sails down as we reached the entry to the bay at Santa Ponsa. This was our third visit to this very well protected anchorage. We again anchored well into the inlet in good sand less than 4 metres deep. It was the perfect spot to sit out some expected strong winds from SSE which would make San Telmo very uncomfortable had we stayed there.

We went ashore and returned to a bar we’d nick named The Office as it was where we went when we wanted to do some admin work. Using the bar’s wfi Marc caught up with a emails, Karen downloaded more books onto her IPad and Rob finally posted the Gibraltar to Ipswich UK – A Curious Adventure chapter of our blog.  It’s simple to cut and paste the text in to the blog program but each photo has to be individually uploaded, placed and captioned so the mammoth chapter with over 70 photos took over four hours to get fully posted. It was definitely the longest Rob had worked in The Office in a couple of years

Magnificent sunset at Santa Ponsa - Mallorca

We then had a great dinner at one of the waterfront cafes. At $6 for Pepper Steak which included an accompanying glass of wine we certainly couldn’t complain about the value. Prices in Santa Ponsa are noticeably cheaper than Palma. As we were planning on wintering in Tunisia where alcohol is a hard to source we stocked up our supplies while the prices were so low. 5.95 per litre for Gin, beer at 55c per half litre can and a good selection of Spanish wines all under 3euro. No wonder the Irish and Britt tourists like it here.

Another fine dinner on Alcheringa.

As we weren’t going anywhere we had a huge sleep in the next morning (Wednesday Aug 28). A phone call to Walter our electrician revealed that, surprise, surprise, our VHF radio was still not back so we would need to delay our return to Palma till next week. We were running a little bit short on water but eight litre bottles of drinking water were available at the supermarket for one euro so it would be a lot cheaper to load up a few of those than go back to a marina just because the tanks were getting low. So off we went ashore again for another ridiculously cheap lunch, a wfi session and picked up forty litres of water.

On Thursday we bundled up ALL the boat’s washing and took it in to a laundry service. There were no Laundromats anywhere and, like everything here, the laundry service was so cheap it cost less than when Karen spent hours doing it herself in Palma. We hung out at The Office using their wfi again for a while until it was makeover time. Karen had decided we were all looking the part of grotty yachties way too well and booked all three of us in for long overdue haircuts. Having had a trim and the luxury of having her hair blow dried she was happily feeling very girlie as we tried out a new establishment for late lunch/early dinner. The menu of the day again consisted of three huge courses with breads and a bottle of wine for 9 euro each.

We headed back to the boat well before sunset at about 5.15pm as the wind was predicted to get up to 20 knots during the night. It was to come from the east off the land so we weren’t expecting any big seas with it at all but, after our fun and games in Port de Soller, wanted to make sure all was secure well ahead of time anyway.  A few other boats seemed to be taking some precautions but most were simply sitting as they had been and a number were unattended.  We noticed a steal ketch nearby had put a second anchor out but commented that both were only on rope with no chain visible at all so we actually questioned whether they would hold in 20 knots. We let out extra anchor chain, about 25 metres in 4 metres of water which is more than ample in all but the worst conditions.  As usual Rob had snorkelled down and checked the set of the anchor so we knew we were well dug in. We also literally battened down the hatches, put an extra line on the dingy as a backup and thinking we had everything as prepared as possible, got ready to watch and wait.

The before shot. Thunder head bearing down on us in Santa Ponsa

What we saw wasn’t what we expected. Very quickly dark storm clouds appeared over the ridge to the north and thunder started to echo across the water. Initially it all looked as if it was going to slide past us out to sea but a second cell suddenly came over the hill and instantly heavy rain and hail pelted down and the wind went nuts. It was extremely strong and swirling from all directions causing boats throughout the anchorage to dodge and weave all over the place on their chains.

We already had the engine running and instruments on as precaution. Rob was on helm, in gear with the engine at tick over to take strain off the anchor as Marc and Karen fended boats off left and right. Yachts and motor boats were dragging everywhere with others trying to up anchor and run out to sea for safety. We saw the wind strength hit 55 knots (103kph) on the gauge and were sure some gusts were a lot higher than that. The stinging rain and hail blew horizontally over us making visibility very limited.

As feared the ketch beside us began to drag. We expected it to simply move further away from us but it turned out he’d dropped his second anchor over ours. As he dragged it pulled across our chain and dislodged our anchor from its nice set deep in the sand. Now we were in trouble. Not only were we dragging towards other boats and the rocks on the shore but we were also tangled up with him and couldn’t simply motor away. We were able to use the motor to keep the boats apart most of the time and got fenders in between when we did close but then things got worse.  

While we were trying to extricate ourselves from the ketch, a large catamaran suddenly appeared out of the gloom bearing straight down on us. Rob went full astern but we copped a pretty big hit on the bow and it then scraped along the hull before t-boning a Brit yacht next to us which bore the brunt of it being hit right along the side smashing stanchions, GPS and Naxtex equipment and who knows what else. Our dingy was capsized as we emergency reversed away from the catamaran but fortunately the outboard stayed firmly attached to its transom. The second line we’d attached ensured at least we still had a dingy. We saw four fly past that had broken free during the storm but there were probably more.

Rob was using max revs on the engine this way and that trying to avoid other boats and get free of the Spanish guy who could do nothing but scream abuse at us. Accordingly Rob replied in like Aussie style. ‘You’re not helping things. Go and expletive deleted you expletive deleted’

Eventually his rope broke at the bow roller and as he blew clear we got free of his boat but not his anchor and rope which was still around ours. This had caused our anchor chain to become wrapped around our keel. With the wind and rain persisting at over 40 knots we had many anxious moments avoiding other boats with our limited manoeuvrability. After about 30 minutes the wind gradually eased until we were eventually able get more control of the boat. Karen released the rest of the chain in the locker which provided just enough slack momentarily for it to drop off the keel. We then began hauling it all back in. Marc and Karen still had to untangle the expletive deleted Spaniard’s line and anchor from ours but we finally got it done before moving to a clear area of the bay to re-anchor with plenty of space around us.

Only then could we finally survey the scene. Boats had dragged everywhere and were in the process of checking damage and re-anchoring. Over a dozen that had cleared out during the storm were now heading back in and very carefully choosing where to put their anchors down. One small sail boat on a mooring was capsized and a forty foot charter yacht was hard aground up on the rocks.

The after shot. This charter boat was wedged solidly up on the rocks.
Note how calm the water is only 20 minutes or so after the storm's passing.
Sorry. We were a bit too busy to get any during shots

We surveyed our damage and found a pretty good ding in the bow that had fractured the fibreglass just under the anchor roller which was also badly bent along with the pulpit. The toe rail was damaged and there were scuffs in the gel coat down the hull courtesy of the cat.  All things considered we had got off pretty lightly.

However Karen was having a particularly bad day. For a start her first salon blow dry in six months was totally wasted as she now looked like a drowned spaniel, and, like all of us, her clothes were drenched. She quickly changed into dry clothes but as we were recovering the outboard off the dingy, she promptly slipped off the swim platform with a huge splash into what was now filthy water  covered in rubbish that had raced out of the town's drains into the bay. The good news was she managed to not lose her glasses which were luckily tangled in her hair when she surfaced. The bad news was that not only was her blow dry wasted, but now so to was the pampering shampoo and conditioning she'd had. Could it get worse? Yep. She was wearing her absolute last dry change of clothes when she fell in. Everything else she owned was in at the laundry service. She looked very elegant having dinner that evening wearing one of Rob's t-shirts as a dress.

We had expected 20 knots of wind, not 55 plus, rain and hail and had not been as prepared as we thought. Not only had we not taken the outboard off and secured it on its mount on the back of the yacht but we’d also left the oars and our thongs in the dingy. They were all now long gone. The outboard had spent most of the storm upside down and underwater. Not surprisingly despite copious amounts of magic WD40 sprayed all over, it didn’t want to run now. Lesson learned. Our other mistake was being anchored anywhere near a yacht that was sitting in 4 metres of water with no anchor chain showing above the water, only scope. It might be Ok if things stay calm but it’s chain that keeps anchors dug in and plenty of it when the wind gets up.

We were all pretty shaken up and it took a long time to clear the adrenaline from our system. It didn’t help Rob’s blood pressure when the expletive deleted Spaniard motored slowly by and said he’d lost his anchor, dingy oars and damaged his dingy so wanted our insurance details so he could claim against us. Rob not so politely suggested he remove himself from our presence and go buy some anchor chain. We’d see him in court if he wanted to pursue it.

That evening we were visited by the owner of the yacht which was badly damaged by the cat who asked if we would provide a witness statement regarding the collision. We agreed to do so and asked him to provide the same for us.

We all finally turned in after 11pm but bolted upright in our bunks to the sound of a loud clap of thunder at 3.00am. We were all quickly on deck watching the lightening over the hills and trying to gauge which way it was moving .After a while Karen and Marc returned to bed and Rob sat up till 5.00 watching it slide harmlessly by without troubling us.

When we rose in the morning we were visited by people who identified themselves as being from the charter catamaran we tangled with. They acknowledged that they had hit us and the other yacht but amongst other things stated that they had notified the charter company that there would be a number of insurance claims so we wondered how many others they'd hit after us. They also said that during the storm they had not known what to do. Something that was already obvious to us.

We also faced a different issue. As we now had a dead outboard and no oars it presented us with a bit of a problem getting to shore and back. Rob was hopeful we may be able to find one or both of our oars on the sea bottom as they were aluminium and didn’t float but despite two hours snorkelling around the bay he saw no sign of them. He did however find someone else’s paddle five metres down laying on the sand so at least we had something to try to propel the dingy ashore.

Marc and Karen paddled in to pick up the washing from the laundry and see if they could buy any paddles for the dingy. Rob stayed on board just in case as the sky looked a little dark in places and we were still a bit gun shy after the big storm. Watching Marc in the bow battling against the breeze with our newly acquired paddle and Karen, the passenger sitting in serenely stern, was almost comical. Watching them return in the inflatable loaded to the max with washing and propelling it with dinky paddles they bought in a toy store was hilarious. 4.50 Euro each. Oh well!

Washing delivery complete with new paddles from the toy shop.

We had a very quiet Saturday as well with just a visit to The Office and where Rob posted some more blog, Marc read his newspapers and Karen fed her virtual animals on the IPad’s Dreamzoo.

On Sunday morning we paddled into shore (with Rob breaking one of our yellow jobbies on the way) and went back to The Office and skyped the family. All had assembled at our son, Rod’s and daughter in law Kathy’s for our grandson Ethan’s birthday. It was also Father’s Day in Australia so it was great to see and chat to everyone. We really do miss them very much and being able to see and chat with them via skype is priceless.


We noticed this mob lining the beach ready to race and figured we better
 paddle ashore before they got going. Thankfully we didn't end up in
the middle of them. It's easy to imagine the mayhem

While we were on shore it came over very dark and poured with rain but fortunately there was no wind with it as we were off the boat with one dinky paddle and couldn’t get back in a blow even if we tried. After another visit to the toy store for another paddle and then we went out to boat after lunch but came back in for a nice farewell Santa Ponsa dinner that evening.

The forecast was predicting a couple of days strongish north westerly winds which would blow straight into the bay so we were going to be up early on Monday morning and move around the south west corner of the island to our happy spot at beautiful Cala Portals (Porto Veile).

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Kicking back at San Telmo - Around Mallorca Beach by Beach

August 25-27  -  2012

A very rare thing happened on Alcheringa on the morning of August 25^th. We had a sleep in and didn’t get underway till about 11.00 am. Because of the wind direction we elected to give the anchorages on Dragonera Island a miss and headed to San Telmo instead. It would be revisiting old ground for us but Marc hadn’t been there and we knew it should be well protected from the north easterlies that were forecast.

 

Conditions were a little light but we were able to sail all the way. We started with a nice downwind reach out to sea then square run wing on wing with the cruising chute.  The wind got very light and fluky for quite a while but we were still making acceptable speed so we stuck with the set up. The autopilot got a rest as we hand steered all the way. It was actually great fun helming the boat to get the most out of every little bit of breeze. We didn’t actually expect to make it all the way to the strait between Mallorca and Dragonera Island without tacking back out to sea but as we approached the coastal cliffs the wind veered in our favour and we sailed directly into the passage. It also got squeezed so strengthened quickly from under 10 knots right up to near 20 knots. This had us right on the limit of our cruising chute and had us flying along.

We covered the 21.1 nautical mile trip to San Telmo with an average speed of 4.5 knots and reached 8 knots during the sleigh ride through the strait. It really was a very enjoyable sail.

Asymetrical chute out to starboard, mainsail to port and three happy
meerkats afloat in the middle.

 We anchored close in to the beach in what is the most protected corner of the bay but unfortunately after having spent five very peaceful nights in this anchorage while Marc was away, this time a big swell rolled into the bay making the boat roll uncomfortably most of the night. Rob was also up for a couple of hours securing everything on deck and keeping an eye on a huge electrical storm hovering just out to sea. Luckily it bypassed us.

Alcheringa at anchor off San Telmo

Marc stayed onboard all day on Sunday reading while we went ashore for a while, strolled around the very pleasant town and picked up some really nice fresh baked baguettes. With some swell still rolling around the point, launching the dingy back off the beach was a bit challenging. We tried to time our run between waves but sure enough the sea wasn’t going to co-operate and we got well and truly drenched as a small breaker rolled over the bow. With no thought for self preservation, Karen heroically managed to save the bread though.

San Telmo - Mallorca

On Monday we spent another lazy day in San Telmo. Rob got some more blogging done as he’s been trying hard to catch up. We’ve been so busy actually doing things he hasn’t been able to find the time to write about doing those things and all of a sudden we found the blog nearly three months behind. He was keen to finish the story of our passage from Gibraltar to England on Curious. It had happened so long ago back in early June that he actually thought it would be fairly short. However once we started to go through the photos of the trip and recall all the great things that happened along the way it ended up longest chapter yet at 6,500 words with over 70 photos.

We all did make a trip ashore for a local lunch and for Marc to see the town though because we were going to be moving on again in the morning.

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Cala Deia – no sand but what a beach.

 

Around Mallorca beach by beach

August 24 - 2012

After our wild, windswept night we left Port de Soller reasonably early in the morning with the original thought of maybe sailing 21 miles west to Dragonerra Island just off the north western corner of Mallorca. However once again something in our pilot guide had caught our interest.

Cala Deia was listed as a small, picturesque bay with a small beach and fishermen’s huts at its head. The nearby town of Deia was described as being about a mile inland and ‘amongst the lovliest of Mallorca’s villages and the antitheses of the tourist resorts that abound on much of the coastline.’ Now that sounded intriguing but it was only about three miles down the coast so not much of a sail.

Never the less we felt we really should have a look and if the anchorage was OK and the place seemed as interesting as it was described we might stay. In no time at all we were anchored in a  very attractive little bay surrounded by high cliffs that provided good shelter from the south westerly breezes blowing. It certainly wouldn’t be the place to be in any sort of northerly though.

The beach was in fact all stone with just two small restaurants but was well populated with swimmers. With its rocky shore, ancient looking boat sheds and lack of resorts, Cala Deia simply had a nice feel to it. So OK, we set a new Alcheringa record for the shortest day’s sail at 3.7 nautical miles as we quickly decided to stay. That’s what we love about having a true cruising schedule, no rush.

Fantastic old fishermen's boat houses at Cala Diea

 

Karen cooling off at Cala Deia - Mallorca

It was a particularly hot day so we cooled off with a good swim before having lunch aboard. Then we headed ashore to walk it all off with a visit to village of Deia. While the guide book had said Deia was ‘about’ one mile inland what it didn’t mention was in that mile the elevation went from sea level to about 1000 feet and the path winding through the olive groves and goat farms was more like three miles and all UP! It was certainly a good work out in 40c heat but very picturesque which made it enjoyable.

The path to Deia goes up through the olive groves

And up over live stock barriers

And up some more

And up through the lanes

And all the way up to the church

But most importantly, up to a rehydration stop

When we did finally reach the village though we went straight into first café we came to for re-hydration therapy. Deia is everything the guide book said and more. It’s a fantastic traditional village largely unspoilt by modern times. We had a great time wandering around the narrow laneways admiring all the very old stone houses and cottages. This was also  the home of author and poet Robert Graves who wrote I Claudius and over 140 other works for over 50 years before his death in 1985. We passed by his house and made our way right to the church right on top of a high ridge overlooking the town, the valley and sea where visited his very humble grave.

Marc leading the way through Deia

The view from the churchyard back down the valley to the water

The very modest final resting place of Robert Graves

Finally we made our way back down to the beach and had a couple of huge G&Ts in the very rustic beach bar. After our trek, sitting and watching the antics of the kids somersaulting off the rocks was a very entertaining way to relax. Rock jumping seems to be a very popular activity here on Mallorca. Anywhere we go where there’s rocks and water people seem to love leaping from one to the other. By the time we’d narrowly survived our second near litre glass of Gin and Tonic in the beach bar (at 3 euro they were hard to resist but a third would have been fatal), we’d watched people of both sexes and from about 6 to their 60s find a suitable rock and throw themselves off it.

It's not the camera angle. The G&T's really were almost a litre each.
Alcheringa at anchor in the background

It even continued when we got back to the boat as we watched a particularly agile group repeatedly scale a reasonably sheer cliff beside us and leap into thin air. Sometimes with elegant splashes on entry and at others creating massive eruptions of water which we can only assume would have been accompanied by considerable levels of pain somewhere. Each to their own.

First you climb the cliff from the water

Then he jumps. See if you can spot him against the background of the rocks

Then she jumps. Then they do it all over again.

That night we had the entire anchorage to ourselves as the few other boats that had been around all left before sunset. With almost no wind, no waves, no shore side discos and  no bongo drums it was super peaceful. Our lack of sack time the previous night combined with our mountain hike ensured we all slept extremely well.

Thank you Cala Deia for a fantastic day.

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Blown away at Port de Soller

 Around Mallorca beach by beach

August 23 - 2012

We waved goodbye to Cala de la Calobra  next morning and sail further west along the coast to Port de Soller. Back in April when we were in Palma with Moksha we’d come over here via heritage train up through the Mallorca’s mountains to the town of Soller and then the rest of the way to the port by historic tram. We’d loved both the trip and the place and had said at the time it would be great to sail in here one day. Now we’d actually done it.

Rob in Port de Soller on our first visit back in April

As usual we gave the expense of the marina a miss and anchored out in the harbour itself. or the information For our non-sailing friends, anchoring can actually be one of the most stressful things you do on a yacht, particularly if you’re planning on leaving the boat and going ashore. It’s not just a case of dropping the heavy hook bit onto the sea bed and all’s good. Our anchor is a 20kg ‘Bruce’ type which is well suited to anchoring in sand but , like most designs, useless in the thick, kelp seaweed found in many parts of the Med. So first up we need to make sure we drop the anchor in a patch of sand, preferably with the boat just moving backwards a little as it hits the bottom. This makes sure the anchor lands the right way up and digs down into the sand. Then you lay out the appropriate amount of heavy anchor chain. It’s the chain laying on the bottom that provides the weight to hold the boat in place in all but strong wind or current. Just as importantly, it also ensures that when current or wind do act on the boat, the resulting pull on the anchor is horizontal along the bottom so it stays nicely dug in and not vertical which would pull it up out of the sand. The basic rule of thumb all the charter companies etc tell their clients is to put down three times as much chain as the water is deep. EG: anchoring in 7 metres of water you should put down 21 metres of chain. However we regard this as the minimum for calm conditions only and prefer to put down four or five times depth depending on where we are, how much swing room to other boats or the shore we have and what winds are expected.

In Port de Soller the number of boats in harbour restricted the amount of chain we were able to put out but as Rob had been able to snorkel down and confirm the anchor was well dug in the sand and considering the highest wind predicted was for the day was under 10 knots we felt comfortable with about 25 metres of chain down in 8 metres of water. We would check the updated forecasts when we came back to the boat and if need be look at putting some more chain down then.

A great line up of traditional boats in Port de Soller

Our very affordable lunch spot at Port de Soller

We took the dingy in to the beach and found one of the few pieces of sand to pull it up on that wasn’t already occupied by sunlovers. We had a nice lunch ashore at one of the little cafes overlooking the bay. Eating the local food is one of the greatest aspects of the travelling we’re doing and with the Spanish custom of offering a ‘Menu la dia’  (Menu of the Day) it’s also very affordable. A typical offering will be three choices of first, second and third courses with either coffee or wine for between six to ten euros ($7.50 to $12.50). Oh! You also usually get a large plate of breads and olives to nibble on while you're waiting for the first course. The servings are normally huge and when we fill up at lunch we normally settle for a very light snack for dinner. Of course some more ritzy places aimed at the toffier tourists offer menus up to thirty or forty euros but, now being grotty yachties, they’re not our style anyway.

After lunch we jumped the early 1900s era tram for the fifteen minute trip up to the town Soller for a look around. It features a lovely old town square and of course the obligatory huge church where we arrived just in time for a wedding. We thought we were going to be very fortunate to witness a traditional Spanish ceremony. Wrong!!! The bridal party and guests were all Brits complete with the heavy suits etc in 39.5C heat. When the happy couple posed for photos on the church stairs after the ceremony it was like watching a wedding cake in a microwave. Very bizarre. Rob was a bit grumpy because the batteries in his camera died so there's no pics.

We had a great time wandering the narrow streets, checking out the art galleries and then settled in at one of the alfresco cafes in the square for a local vino.

The obligatory church  and part of the town square a Soller

We got back to the boat in the late afternoon and were a little dismayed to find a charter yacht had anchored fairly close behind us and was currently unattended. The predicted sub 10 knot wind appeared to be being funnelled down off the high mountain range behind Soller, through the valley and straight out across the harbour. It was already gusting around 15 knots and seemed to be strengthening. We were very keen to put down some more chain but our boats were swinging much too close for comfort and any more would of just brought us even nearer.

Options are limited in this situation. We could up anchor and try to find somewhere else in the harbour where we could put more chain down but in the now half light finding a patch of sand could prove troublesome. Confident our anchor was well dug in we elected to sit and wait for the other boat’s crew to return. If we could get them to put out another twenty metres or so of chain we could put down another ten or fifteen and still have more safety margin between the boats.

By the time we saw a dingy approaching the yacht we were already in darkness and the wind was now consistently over 20 knots and gusting over 25. That’s when we struck our next hurdle. The charterers were French and surprisingly seemed to speak very little English. Shouting across the water it was proving difficult to get them to understand what we were asking. Eventually they caught on and we were relieved when they headed to the bow then dismayed when they only put out about another five or so metres of chain. They had understood that we were too close but nothing we did could make them understand that we also wanted to drop more chain as well. They clearly felt that now with some extra distance between the two boats all was fine and proceeded to go to bed.

There was nothing left for us to do but arrange ourselves in a series of anchor watches through the night and be ready if our anchor didn’t hold. We turned all our instruments on and had the key in the ignition ready to go if we needed to. Rob would take the first three hour shift, then Marc followed by Karen. We agreed, if we got loose, things would happen fast with no time for wake up calls so the signal to get up would be the sound of the engine starting.

Even before Marc and Karen got their heads down, the gusts began to reach 35 knots and were not from a consistent direction but rather swung through an arc of about 30 degrees. All the boats in the harbour were swinging wildly and before long anchors began to pull free. A catamaran not far from us that had been secure one second, was heading past us at about six knots the next. They’re didn’t appear to be anyone on deck so we flashed our spotlight at its portholes and were rewarded with a rather shocked face suddenly appearing on deck. He was able to start his motors and get things under control before being swept into the stone docks on the opposite side of the harbour.

It was only the first. During the next couple of hours Rob watched another seven boats break free and drag quickly before the wind. Some then headed into the marina and jumped on any berth they could find while two tied up to the stone docks. The risk there was that the wind was blowing them strongly against the dock and if their fenders weren’t up to the job a fair bit of damage could easily result.

In one corner of the harbour a large ketch dragged backwards across the anchor chain of a smaller yacht resulting in them becoming tangled together with both slowly dragging towards rocks. Not a good situation to be in. It was at least half an hour of shouting, cursing, engines revving and who knows what else before they finally got free of each other before serious damage was done.

Meanwhile Alcheringa was dancing wildly back and forward on her chain with her stern swinging within five or six metres of the charter boat. Each time she came to the end of an arc, the chain would snap taut and she’d head back in the reverse swing. That was until a little before midnight, when she again stretched the chain tight but this time there was no reverse swing. The bow continued to be carried before the wind. She was now the ninth boat to break free as her anchor was skimming across the bottom providing very minimal resistance to her motion toward the docks.

Rob hit the ignition switch and by the time he had the boat in gear Marc and Karen were appearing on deck and instantly went to the bow to begin raising the anchor. Rob meanwhile got the bow headed into the wind and was able to hold her pretty much in place until the anchor was on deck. When we’d been picking a spot to anchor in the morning we’d noticed that there was very little weed closer into shore. At that stage the area was occupied by a number of smaller boats but these had mostly disappeared with the sun so that’s where we headed.

The lights of the shorefront boulevards provided plenty of illumination and we were able to pick a reasonably clear spot, got the anchor back down this time in just four metres of water and proceeded to follow it with over 40 metres of chain. If that didn’t hold we would have no choice but to get out of the harbour and head for open water. It may have been uncomfortable but you’re a lot safer when there’s nothing to hit. Fortunately the combination of anchor and chain held with no further problems and within a couple of hours the wind had eased to the point of no longer presenting any danger. It was then very nice to get a few hours sleep.

Looking around the harbour when the sun rose later in the morning you’d never know anything had happened. Everything was once again serene. Port de Soller is referred to as an excellent harbour and the only safe refuge on Mallorca’s north coast in bad weather. We had certainly not expected the fun and games we experienced through the night but no damage was done and nobody was hurt so all was good.

Regardless, we quickly dropped our previous ideas of staying another day. As pretty as it was we were getting out of there pronto.

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Goodbye Port de Soller - we're outa here!