Cala Portinatx

Our first port of call in Ibiza was Cala Portinatx – a busy little holiday resort on the north-west coast. B&B spotted a boat using their spinnaker pole as a swing over the water (so that’s what a spinnaker pole is for!), and were over there like a shot.

 

Cala Portinatx.

 

We went in search of paella for 6 with Mandie and Mike (TENGY).

 

Paella for 6.

 

It just happened to be fiesta time in Cala Portinatx (which is most unlike us – we usually arrive the day after the party). We watched as a stage was erected on the beach and a huge firework display was set up. The Guardia Costeria asked the boats that were nearest to the beach to move away to anchor on the sand bar at the entrance to the bay. They didn’t come near us, so we assumed that we were far enough away from the action. Eventually the Virgin Mary made her entrance and processed around the anchorage in her boat, then the priest blessed the local boats (all dressed up and full of people partying) and threw flowers and Holy water at them as they went past.

 

Spot the Virgin (clue: the only one with a halo).

 

Eventually, as it was getting dark, the Guardia Costeria came over and told us that we had to move too – why they left it so late we have no idea! So, in the gathering gloom, we upped anchor and tried to find a sandy spot in the (now extremely crowded) bit of the anchorage at the entrance. It was deep where we were and we dragged a bit at first, but eventually the anchor dug in well and we settled down to watch the fireworks from afar. Mike and Mandie couldn’t find a patch of sand, so they rafted up to us. The fireworks were magnificent – even better than Italy vs. Malta in Valetta.

 

When the fireworks were over, there was a mad dash of boats back to the anchorage near the beach (during which we nearly got T-boned!). We sat and waited patiently until most of the boats had gone, then started pulling in our anchor... We pulled and we pulled. We let some chain out and tried again. We tried pulling one way and then another, but basically we weren’t going anywhere! By now it was about 01:00, very dark and we were in about 15 metres of water, so we put out lots of extra chain and settled down for the night.

 

The next morning David went with in a mask and snorkel to have a look and found the anchor wedged in a crevice in the rock. As we played about with the chain, letting some out and then hauling it in again, the anchor bumped about a bit and pulled clear of the crevice – it just needed to be pulled in exactly the opposite direction to the one that had got it wedged. Having had (expensive) visions of having to abandon the anchor (and possibly some chain) this was great!

 

Cala Binirras

Cala Binirras had been recommended to us by Gianfranco (YUKATAN), a friend in Cagliari. It is a rocky little cove with a gravelly beach, clear turquoise water, fisherman’s huts and a favourite haunt of modern-day hippies complete with dreadlocks and bongo drums well into the early hours.

 

Cala Binirras.

 

Judging by the vehicles in the anchorage, Cala Binirras is obviously where Noddy and Big Ears hang out in the summer too.

 

Cala Binirras has the added attraction of a large rock – to climb up, jump off and snorkel around. The pilot book says that the rock looks a bit like an elderly Queen Victoria on her throne – I suppose it does (if you squint at it, or maybe have a lot to drink).

 

Victoria Rock.

 

It certainly makes a good focal point when watching the sun go down.

 

Sunset over Victoria Rock.

 

After days packed with climbing up, jumping off and general snorkelling, B&B took to sleeping on deck.

 

Two large slugs asleep on deck.

 

Talking of creepy crawlies, B&B caught a small gecko when we were on the hard in Alcudia and released it on CAPE; apparently they (geckos, not B&B) are very good at eating mozzies, cockroaches and so on. We christened him (or her) El Greco and didn’t expect to ever see him again. However, he was sighted on deck while we were in Cala Binirras – minus tail – but bigger and fatter; obviously life on CAPE suits him! I will let you know what gecko poo looks like when I find some...

 

San Antonio

We headed south to San Antonio for stores, as shopping at the local beach SPAR was OK for bread, lilos and buckets and spades, but not much else. We struggled a bit to anchor in the weed and submerged wrecks in the anchorage, but eventually managed to find a sandy spot. As expected of the party capital of Ibiza, San Antonio was packed with wall-to-wall clubs and bars, pavement pizza from the night before, and scantily clad ‘yoof’ having beer for breakfast (I must be getting old). Behind the strip, however, there was an Eroski and a decent laundrette, so we refilled the fridge, got the towels washed and scuttled off to Formentera to catch PAX before they headed off for mainland Spain.

 

Formentera and Espalmador

We had anchored in Formentera for 1 night 2 years ago on our way into the Med – this had been the first place that we’d seen turquoise water. This time we had lots of trouble anchoring and couldn’t find a decent patch of sand. By the time we’d finished messing about, it was after 18:30 and we were able to use an unclaimed Posidonia conservation mooring buoy.

 

After a couple of nights on the mooring buoy we moved on to Espalmador – the ‘poor man’s Caribbean’. It is a stunning swathe of pale, silver-pink sand, sand dunes, and transparent water. There are some mud baths here too – hot, thick, black, smelly mud that sets like concrete, but leaves your skin really smooth when you wash it off.

 

Formentera.

 

Unfortunately it was a weekend so the place was full of other people (huh!), and a bit like trying to anchor in Sainsbury’s car park on Christmas Eve. The locals tie their million-Euro gin palaces to the swimmer buoys, and whizz around the anchorage in their swanky jet boats. We dragged anchor, but put it down to being dragged around by one of the locals who had moored to a swimmer buoy and then wrapped his chain around our rudder.

 

Back to Cala Binirras

With some south-easterlies forecast, we headed back north with TENGY to Cala Binirras and Queen Victoria. We had trouble anchoring here too, but this time in sand where we’d had no trouble before (alarm bells were starting to ring now). We swapped the Delta for the Fortress (one of our spare anchors) which dug in first time. Mmmm, maybe we had mangled the Delta when we got it stuck...

 

TUTKUM was there, with Baha, Nur, Serra (Baha’s 13-year-old daughter who was on holiday) and Odi and Salty (the dogs). David set our spinnaker pole up as a swing and we all had a great time ripping our arms out of their sockets while trying to hang on long enough to drop gracefully into the water. The boys seem quite good at this, but I for one was useless (so was Mandie, Nur and Serra). I think it must be something to do with the difference in upper body strength between boys and girls – which also explains why most women I know (myself included) can’t get into a dinghy out of the water either.

 

Bryn walking on water.

 

David practicing his star jump entry.

 

Serra (TUTKUM) demonstrating a typical girly splashdown.

 

In between climbing, jumping snorkelling and swinging off the spinnaker pole, Bethany, Bryn and Serra made themselves some pocket money selling fruit smoothies to the other yotties and delivering them by dinghy – Groovy Smoothie (plum, peach and banana), Fruit Frenzy (orange), and Banana (go on, have a guess).

 

We had the inevitable BBQ – this time on the slipway of a little abandoned boat house.

 

The abandoned boathouse-cum-BBQ venue.

 

Watching the sun go down over the anchorage.

 

Mandie sharing a joke with Odi.

 

Baha sharing out the wine.

 

Victoria Rock from on high.

 

The anchorage at San Miguel, next door to Cala Binirras.

 

Other yotties covet Swans and Oysters – our next boat will be a converted fishing boat...

 

Cala Negret and Ensenada de la Canal

We headed south again for a couple of days, staying in Cala Negret, and Ensenada de la Canal (where it was really rolly), before saying goodbye to Ibiza and the Balearics and heading for mainland Spain.

 

Cala Negret – golden rocks and good snorkelling.

 

Cabo de Gata in a force 7–8

The forecast was for an easterly 5–6, decreasing to a north-easterly 4–5, which was perfect for our planned 250-mile passage to Almerimar on the Costa del Sol. This, of course, meant that we had no wind and motored for the first 12 hours or so. The wind started to increase at about 03:00 the following morning and continued to build. By the time we were rounding Cabo de Gata (bottom right hand corner of Spain) 24 hours later, we had north-easterly winds averaging 30 knots with prolonged gusts of over 35 knots (force 7–8) and were making nearly 9 knots with 3 reefs in the main and no genoa. Luckily the wind and sea were from behind, so the motion wasn’t uncomfortable, but seeing waves roll past us level with the boom – about a 3-metre sea – was a bit disconcerting (for me anyway). Luckily only a couple of waves made it into the cockpit (one came down the companionway and onto our bed as I was going up the steps). The next day we were joined by long-finned pilot whales who surfed down the waves to catch up with us, and swam alongside for a few minutes before disappearing – they were about half as long as CAPE, very dark and had distinctive bulbous heads. The forecast stayed at a conservative easterly 5–6, decreasing 4–5 for the whole of our 49-hour passage. Eventually we turned in to the relative calm of Almerimar, with thoughts of cold beer/coke and real showers.