After meeting Richard from the ferry, at the port in
Ibiza, we moved to a nearby bay where we anchored
overnight.
It was not a very comfortable anchorage and the swell
continued to come into the bay all night. Not an ideal introduction to a
seafaring way of life, for Richard. We did not delay moving from there, after we
had breakfasted next morning.
We moved a distance of just nine nautical miles, to Cala
Yondal, a beautiful bay with blue, crystal clear water, on sand. The downside
was the abundance of jelly fish. More than we have seen in one place for a long
time, certainly this year.
In order to keep the batteries on the boat charged
adequately, to sustain the high level of electricity used, we need to run the
generator for a total of about three hours each day. This can be done in one
stint, or at different times during the day and evening.
While we were running the generator during the afternoon,
it suddenly stopped. Dick then checked the impellor, despite having only changed
it less than 150 hours earlier. It didn’t look as if it needed to be changed but
he changed it anyway. He checked another part of the feed pipe, to ensure
free-flow of water then switched on the generator. Ten minutes later it stopped
again.
As a last resort, Dick donned his fins and his mask and
snorkel and entered the water. This was not a simple task, as scores of jelly
fish were being wafted about the area next to the bathing ladder and between the
hulls. He made his way round to the front of the boat and down between the two
hulls, to the water inlet for the generator. He took this route as it seemed to
be less populated by the jellyfish.
On reaching the water inlet, he could see immediately
that a jelly fish had adhered to the guard, covering the inlet. Although water
could still get into the pipe, insufficient quantities were able to bypass the
jelly fish to enable the generator to continue to function.
A supermarket polythene shopping bag was passed down to
Dick who then made his way back to the offending creature and removed it, using
the bag. Having freed the jellyfish, the plastic bag had to be folded carefully,
to avoid any possibility of getting stung by a dislodged tentacle. The bag was
then returned to the boat and tucked into a bag of refuse, waiting to be
deposited in a handy rubbish bin.
Next morning, when the generator suddenly stopped, our
immediate thoughts were that another jelly fish had caused the problem. Dick
duly donned the gear and entered the water. Today there appeared to be far fewer
jelly fish around our boat, compared with the masses yesterday.
On reaching the water inlet, not only did Dick discover a
jelly fish obstructing the inlet but there were two of them. There was nothing
else for it but to raise the anchor and move on to another bay.
We looked into the next bay along the coast. There were
quite a lot of jellyfish further out though none as yet, near to where we would
anchor.
As we were
scouting out the area, a sports motor boat, still on the plane, cut right in
front of us. I was at the bow, looking forward and almost fell overboard in the
wake and swell
that was caused. Dick sounded the horn but the ignorant
driver of the other boat was not interested, he was looking for a space to
anchor.
We left that anchorage and made our way towards the tiny
Isla Conejera, just three or four miles off San
Antonio.
Just before we reached Isla Bosque, to our port side is
Pta. Embarcado where there is some construction taking place. One of the houses,
which appeared to be still under construction, had been built right above a
cave. There could not have been half a metre of substance below the house and
the ceiling of the cave. I cannot imagine how the house had been built without
any footings being dug. Had any foundations existed, the workmen would have gone
right through the top of the cave.
To reach
Estancia des Dins where we were to anchor, we had to cross a reef between the
tiny island of Isla
Bosque and Isla Conejero. I always find entering
shallow water to be an unnerving experience.
The water was just over two metres below our hull and we
could see the white, stark rocks below. The chart said that it was not navigable
but the pilot book said that it was fine. I would have preferred to reach our
anchorage by taking the longer route, as there seemed to be two different
opinions but Dick decided to cross the reef and this we did.
The anchorage was perfect, quiet and peaceful and not a
jelly fish in sight.
Next morning, we watched as two wardens arrived in a rib,
blue light flashing. The occupants of some of the other boats had gone ashore
and this was obviously not permissible, though not a widely advertised fact.
There were no signs advising “no landing” nor was there any mention in the pilot
book that one may not land here. The pamphlets issued to us when we arrived in
Mallorca, regarding recommendations and regulated
anchoring in the Balearic, did not cover this either.
We moved on to San
Antonio bay, dropped an anchor and went ashore where we
had lunch and a few beers and watched the sunbathers on the beach just below
us.
While we were absent, the boat had turner 180º and there
was a slight swell into the bay, imperceptible once we were on the boat but
large enough to splash us, as we returned in the rib, replete after a
surprisingly good meal.
We spent two nights in San
Antonio bay and although it has the reputation as a hot
spot for young people, there was no intrusion of noise during the night, unlike
Cala Yondal, where we stayed several days ago.
Moving on, we anchored in the
bay of Puerto de San
Miguel, where we stayed for two nights. We had
tried, unsuccessfully, to anchor in Cala Binirras, where Islote Bernat lies in
the middle of the entrance. The rock, from some angles, resembles the elderly
Queen Victoria. There were already quite a number of boats at anchor and we felt
that there was insufficient room for our boat to swing on the chain.
We continued to bay hop for several days until on
Wednesday, we moved on to Espalmador, Formentera, where we picked up a mooring
buoy and here we stayed for two days. There were a lot of boats on the mooring
buoys the first day we were there but many left next day leaving at least half
of the buoys vacant.
We left before it was light on Friday morning. I couldn’t
believe that in the space of just a month, the sun was rising an hour later than when we crossed from
Sardinia to Menorca. Three
monohulls left the bay just before us, two of them destroying our night vision
with their spotlights. It was those two boats that appeared to become
disoriented, as they were attempting to depart. Both made a sharp right-angle
turn to avoid the land, as they made their way out of the bay.
I stood at the bow and piloted Dick around the unlit,
unoccupied mooring buoys.
The passage from Formentera to Javea was smooth and
perfect for spotting marine life.
During the morning, Richard and I saw dolphin fins, some
500metres off the port bow. However, the dolphins were just flirting with us and
came no closer, nor did they frolic and play. This was the first glimpse of
dolphins that Richard had experienced, other than those in the aquariums in
Valencia.
Just after lunch, we were entertained by dolphins which
were frolicking, some 500 metres off the port bow, then from behind us and
finally off the starboard bow but they came no closer than 500metres
off.
Half an hour after watching the dolphins, a huge Search
and Rescue boat passed just 200metres away. At one stage it looked as if it was
going to hit us so I went below and
switched on our extra powerful radar reflector.
We arrived at Javea port at 5pm, threw a line from the bow over a bollard, came
alongside briefly and Richard stepped off the boat. Within seconds of lassoing
the bollard, the line was free and we were on our way to Moraira where we
planned to spend a few days.
Below:- Queen Victoria rock,,,,, Salvage boat looking for
something to rescue?
