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After
a lengthy period of planning, we'd finally done it. The boat
had been bought albeit not yet sailed, a trailer and car purchased,
all our out standings settled whilst we'd be away.
We
took the hover to Calais and motored through France to Estartit
on the Mediterranean coast of Spain. It took us 3 days to
tow the yacht through France, and somewhat relieved we set
about finding out how to got the boat launched.
Paperwork approved and after much gesticulation on the quay,
the boat was lowered and miraculously didn't spring a leak!
We were now set to sail off into the sunset.
FAMILIARIZATION
Our
first two weeks were spent making our selves familiar with
the handling of sails and motor and tying up to a pontoon,
which much to the amusement of our fellow mariners provided
them with a few hours entertainment. By the end of our two
week stay in known waters, we felt confident enough to venture
further down the coast as we had already encountered Force
5-6 and Maggie didn't howl the place down, in fact she seemed
to enjoy it.
San
Feliu de Guixols proved to be a small fishing town, inhabited
by Spaniards with minimal tourists. Not one of the most exciting
places we visited, but we were looking forward to our sail
across to the Balearic Islands.
Alisdair
and Christine and their boat "Redwings" were moored
up at San Feliu when we entered and saw Maggie's attempt to
negotiate a 10 ft wall in order to put a line ashore. I gave
her the order to jump, and with a leap she went but didn't
quite make the horizontal, one leg and one arm on terra firma
and rope in her teeth, amidst the laughing she managed to
pull herself up. So began our first introduction to a couple
with whom we shared most of our sailing. Bad weather kept
us in port for a few days, we had time then to make our acquaintance
with Alisdair and Christine. The weather seemed to calm and
we decided it was now or never so we set sail for Majorca
wishing them a fond farewell and hoped we'd see them again.
Indeed we did, for we'd been out about 4 hours and with a
Northerly hitting us on the nose it made our passage very
uncomfortable and so Maggie's plea to head further down the
coast to Arenys ensured our meeting them.
The
next day after much cajoling from Alisdair and Christine we
felt better equipped to make this long sea voyage, they very
kindly lent us a walkie talkie radio to keep in contact with
them and said they'd catch us up halfway over. To be out there
all alone is an experience you can never put into words for
everybody there is a different feeling. About 5.00 p.m. they
caught us and we had made good time, being about halfway over.
Night fell and it was the first time that we'd sailed at night.
Our journey was interrupted about 10.00 p.m. when Alisdair
shone a powerful light from his bow onto the water, in front
of our boats were dolphins. What a fantastic sight, I rushed
below to get the camera and stumbled on deck, but without
a flash there wasn't enough light to capture them on film.
They were playing, 2 adults and 2 babies and through the water
we could see their eyes looking up at us. Both of us were
so excited, we kept talking about it for hours. Neither of
us could rest, and knowing that we were nearing the coast
of Majorca refused to let our tired eyes close, every light
we saw made us alert, and about 30 miles off we spotted the
fishermen out for their catch. By 6.00 a.m. my eyes had started
to close and I was brought to a rude awakening by Maggie shouting,
look land. The excitement of knowing that we crossed in a
large swell under excellent time made us feel we'd really
achieved something, considering that our jaunt around the
coastal waters of Estartit was the first tire we'd sailed
a yacht. By 8.00 a.m. we were anchored up and I don't think
another place on this planet looked more inviting than Pollensa.
Sleep came but our bubbling excitement to explore got the
better of us.
We
arranged to meet Alisdair and Christine in Ibiza as they were
picking up some friends in Palma. We set off on 19th June
for Soller and it was a sail we'll never forget. As we came
out of the shelter of the inlet the sea was rolling heavily.
Maggie didn't like the look of it but I said we'd persevere
and once round this headland the water would probably be calmer
as the wind was rushing in at great force through the channel
of Pollensa. Needless to say my judgment proved worthless
for the wind and sea did not let up their relentless howling
and rolling and we found ourselves not more that 2 miles off
shore but with nowhere to shelter, turning back would have
been pointless so we had to go on. The sky grew gray and the
waves lashed our bows and Maggie was like jelly, not able
to do anything but look at the waves cascading over the stern
of the boat. I had to quickly switch on the outboard to give
us a spurt to descend the crest of the wave otherwise we'd
have had rollers breaking over us.
We'd
set off at 8.30 that morning and reached Soller at 6.00 that
evening, it took us 10 hours to do 30 miles. When we finally
anchored up we couldn't believe how calm this natural harbour
was, there was no indication of what the weather was like
outside the steep valley of Soller. We spent a good few days
there regaining our confidence. Then off we went for Andraixtz,
and Ibiza. On pulling into Andraixtz we found this fishing
port in a state of upheaval, all the existing moorings were
being pulled and new mooring laid, but with a stipulation
that you only stay for a few days. We met up again with "Redwings"
and her new compliment of crew. Saying our farewells, we set
sail for Ibiza, this time solo.
We
had a fairly easy crossing, not aided by a full moon, which
destroyed our night vision, and consequently we kept thinking
we saw lights, where none existed. About 4.00 p.m. we thought
we ought to be seeing the light on the northern coast of Ibiza,
but a thick mist had come down and nothing was coming through.
Maggie felt sure that my navigation was out and that we'd
be in Morocco if we missed the island. By about 5.30 I spotted
a very faint light on the Island of Dragonara and knew that
we were on course for Portinatx. By 9.00 the familiar scene
of Portinatx lay ahead of us and we blissfully dropped anchor
and fell asleep. It seemed we'd timed our crossing just right
because 2 days later "Redwings" joined us and they'd
had a really rough crossing, with most of the crew being ill.
Our next few days were spent uncomfortably on the boats, Redwings
moved on and we motored over to another inlet, which offered
us more shelter.
All
in all we spent about 5 weeks going round Ibiza and met up
with a French Canadian couple who had sailed the boat from
Quebec in 1979. We marveled at this because the boat was of
solid steel construction and Allan had built it himself over
a period of 6 years. He's probably somewhere in the Caribbean
now on his way back to Canada.
Our
sailing obviously improved - and the beauty of being on the
boat was that if we decided to stop somewhere for lunch and
spear a few fish nobody bothered us. One Sunday, we knew the
weather was going to blow up and so we decided to take shelter
pulling in off a rocky outcrop. We were surprised to see the
Spanish fishermen taking a break as well, but it was an idyllic
way of spending Sunday afternoon being serenaded by the guitar,
when ever someone play Quant a la mena it will remind me of
that afternoon. I rowed ashore to buy some provisions and
was astounded at the poverty of the fishermen who actually
lived in their boat huts with a calor gas stove to cook on
with their wives and family. It brought it home to me how
lucky and fortunate we were to be out here enjoying a 3-month
vacation. There was nowhere that I could buy provisions, and
we had to make do with tinned meat, chips and water, but they
say necessity is the mother of invention.
The
wind in the Med is not always constant and on our sail down
the south coast of Ibiza we had to motor a great deal in order
to make port.
Whilst
sailing around the west coast of Ibiza we weren't making much
headway, we spotted a lovely picturesque spot, called Islet
Margarita. It was about a quarter of a mile off shore but
very deep, we didn't have enough anchor chain, so we stopped
the engine and popped over the side for a snorkel. I spotted
a brilliant piece of sunlight piercing the water - taking
a closer look I gestured to Maggie and we both dived to find
a hole right through the rock filled with some of the largest
Jacks I've seen. I raced back to get my Bronica only to find
the shutter had jammed. Thus my afternoon was spent unjamming
it.
I
had always been lead to believe that the Med was none too
prolific in fish life but I can say I was pleasantly surprised
at times. Portinatx (NW Ibiza) was a good photographic site,
a sunken yacht providing the subject matter and an odd fender
or two.
Ibiza
is very much a tourist island, but, by boat you can get to
the little inlets normally reserved for the fishermen. Ibiza
town was certainly an eyeful and a cameraful, if I'd been
allowed to shoot any film.
Majorca
was our next stop on the Itinerary. We met up with a French
Canadian couple in Ibiza town and again on our trip back to
Majorca. It was about 10.00 p.m. and we were lazing about
when we heard a splash and saw a school of dolphins on our
port wing. We had so far only seen them at night and when
we were quite a distance out to sea. It's a lovely experience
to watch them play and look up at you so knowingly.
We
headed in after an uneventful sail into Campos, probably one
of our favourite places in Majorca surrounded by white sands
and swaying palms, like something of an "Hawaiian Dream"
brochure. We stayed here for quite a few days basking in the
sun and sampling the local delicacies. On our third day a
familiar sail came into our horizon, Redwings had caught up
with us.
All
the stops we made in Majorca were off the beaten track, we
missed most of the tourist traps, and it was whilst we were
in Cala Longa (nearly every island has one) that we met a
couple who had sailed through the Bay of Biscay, lost all
their possessions in a Force 10 gale and nearly lost their
boat too. They had sailed from Denmark and were hit by a wave
which broke one of their windows and put the boat under 3
ft of water. They had run out of money (and luck) and were
selling everything they could to earn their passage back home
to Denmark.
We
had some good times stopping in little uninhabited Calas,
I shot about 6 rolls of film on Jellyfish and Maggie feeding
a fairly common fish with bread (something like our mackerel
only prettier) but I underestimated the strength of sunlight
penetrating the water. On and on we sailed, leaving Majorca
in mid-July, hoping to spend the next four weeks in Minorca,
the windy island.
The
sail to Minorca was one of our most exhilarating ever. We
had our Spinnaker up all the way (that rather billowy sail
you see on front covers of yachting magazine). Maggie left
me for the last few hours to hold the tiller and it was proving
very hard to hold. We raced quite a few yachts into Ciuadella
that day, including a German motor sailor called "Red
Maggie" who gave us a pat on the back for beating their
40 footer with our little 23 footer.
Unfortunately
our next port of call kept us storm bound for 8 days, so visibility
was poor and no diving got done for the rest of our stay but
I can recommend the islands for diving but only by sailing,
motoring is out!
We
didn't get to see too much of Minorca because of Mistrals
(a strong wind which blows from France) and ended up staying
in Mahon for nearly another 8 days before trying to head back
to mainland Spain. We headed out into a Northerly wind which
was hitting us on the nose all the time and by 2.00 p.m. after
being out for 7 hours had made little headway so we decided
to pull back into Fornells and wait for the right wind. The
very next day the wind changed and we had our most memorable
and longest sail. I had our autopilot on and was reading when
I heard this big splash and was promptly covered by a sickly
smelling gush of water, not less than 20 yards off our starboard
bow was a whale breaking the surface, Maggie was down below
preparing dinner and amidst the shouting and incredibility
she came running with the camera, by this time two had broken
the surface but had dived again, I was all for heading back
to them to take some film but Maggie was adamant that there
would be no pictures from close quarters for fear that there
might be more than two and would have no boat if they surfaced
underneath us, not a very inspiring thought when you are 80
miles out to sea. We couldn't believe our luck again when
we had a school of dolphins playing in our trough and I managed
this time to get a couple of shots for the album.
For
us it was the holiday of a lifetime and one I would recommend
to anyone who were not as foolhardy as us and had had some
sailing experience, but you live and learn and we sure did
that.
Reproduced
from in focus 3 (April,
1984) |
