Currently in Alcudia, Mallorca, and feeling like we’ve touched a milestone in our cruising having closed the circle since leaving here and navigating around the east Med.

It was 14 months ago we cast off from Mallorca to head east and link up with the East Med Rally. 

In the period since we’ve spent 9 months on the boat essensially sailing.  We've covered 7,474 nautical miles on the way and enjoyed visiting Sardinia, Sicily, Greece, Turkey, Cyprus, Syria, Lebanon, Israel, Egypt, Croatia, Italy and of course, the Spanish islands themselves.

For the statistically minded, we've also consumed 3,680 litres of fuel, and had the engine running for for 868 hours.  Often that’s been simply to charge the batteries (it averages around 3 hours per day), but it does show our consumption has been 3 litres per hour and approx .7 litres per mile covered.

Low spots?  Truly none. 

High spot?  Hard one this, but possibly sitting on a Croatian restaurant balcony and looking down enjoying a telented young couple singing for all the patrons, in the street below.

What no one could see except us, was that over a high stone wall off the street and behind the couple, an eight year old girl in a floral dress was dancing her heart out to the music.  As she spun around all alone, eyes closed, arms raised, toes going, she was clearly in another more magical world.  And just for those same five minutes - so were we.

Where we’d avoid if we were to do it again?  If I had to chose, probably Israel.   

Where we’d revisit? Definitely Croatia.

What’s next for us? 

Well first, a few jobs to get Swagman back to top form and prep her for the adventures of getting over to the Caribbean.  Full engine / sail drive service, get her out of the water to sort the keel coating, add on electronic man-overboard gizmo, and a long list of other tasks.  It’s looking like Lagos in Portugal is the best place for us to get it all done, so our plans are to meander back across the Balearics, on to Gibraltar, then Lagos for early September.

Cheers

JOHN

It’s just wonderful what a bit of retail therapy, an even keel, and some time out chillin, will do.

We both felt pretty jaded after the seemingly endless trip over here, but only 24 hours later, feel totally recovered. 

After getting in and anchoring securely, we were too tired to even consider a run ashore.  A light meal plus the obligatory vino only added to the need for sleep.  I popped down at 19.30 just to rest my head - and did not awake until sun-up the following day.

We spent that first full day in Mahon wandering the streets.  Nice place.  It’s Majorcan name is Mao (Mahon is Spanish) and I expected to find it full of Belgium pilgrims – it being the place where mayonnaise originated and all that.  Not one in sight.

It has the feel of a small provincial town, although it is the capital of the island.  Like so many places in the region, it’s had it’s fair share of conquerors, and that’s reflected in many of its buildings.    

We shopped. Sue found some cut-offs and a new top, I found yet another white T shirt with some fancy designer name inside that had a nice neckline. 

Returned to the boat late arvo.  Just in time to exchange a wave with the port police as they passed us in the so called ‘no anchoring area’. 

Felt good to know we don’t need to worry about being where we are – and it seems the message somehow got out to other yotties – for by early evening like moths to a lamp – we had another half dozen boats all parked up around us.

I think it’s the herd instinct.  If one can do it, others can also.  Had this to die for schooner park up 100 yards back.  It’s possibly my dream yacht – classy – good lines – and as a schooner, a rare rig to sail under.

Even a sleek  70 foot Sunseeker power boat, just arrived from France and unable to secure a berth jetty side, came past and asked if it was OK to drop anchor alongside us.  Not an issue.  Skipper William was obviously uncomfortable hanging to an anchor, and spent most of the evening walking his deck and looking worried.  Stopping by to assure him he was OK, we went on to explain they’d had a rough journey because of the weather.

Looking up at his high sides, deep comfortable fully protected seating, I glanced at Sue and believe we both thought - ‘and you’re telling us?’

Spent late arvo sorting the few things damaged from the trip over.  Sewing mostly.  Put a tear in the bimini by not folding it back carefully enough pre-gale, and lost a zipper also.  Also tore favourite Fatface shorts.  Blisters.

Sewing on our boat is down to me.  Sue’s not the top in that division.  Mrs Stapler is how the boys at Scouts knew her years back, when she was told off by Arkayla for using one to affix our boys credit badges.  It was not really the rust issue that raised his concerns, but when the badges all floated off in the wash, and Sue religiously stapled them back on, she often got the wrong badge on the wrong shirt. 

I was always sure Robert did earn his woodcraft credit, but seems Alex was hard done by.

Burbled ashore this evening but not to Mahon town, simply the jetty over the south side of the harbour.  Had a great meal in a small restaurant at water level.  Deep fried camembert with blackberry sauce as an entree, moules with fries for me, Galithian prawns (in Ozzie we’d call them scampi) for Sue.  All washed down with a nice Rjoca.  Sure beats bananas or pot noodles. No caravan talk at all.

But after staring at the largish villas set alongside this harbour – most with steps down to own jetties where owners boats are moored, Sue’s now suggesting one of those, plus a big RIB and a classic sailing day boat to idle away the days, might go on the wish list? 

One just can’t win.

We’re both enjoying this short period of slow pace in Mahon, and having been accepted by the wavy port police, stayed another day. 

Yesterday hired a car and drove across to the west and north ends of Mahon to see Cuitadella and Fornells respectively.  Cuitadella has a long narrow cala that forms its harbour – no room for big ferries there.  The buildings there a typically Spanish as opposed to the mixture seen in Mahon – lovely.

Fornells is the largest cala on Menorca, but despite that pretty crowded.  Seems limited anchorage there but lots of moorings one can pay for.  Seems to be the small dinghy yachting centre around here – the water was packed with sailing craft rocking along.  Real holiday atmosphere to the place – no wonder King Carlos rates it as his favourite holiday spot.

The interior of Menorca, as seen from the roadway, is pretty.  Lots of dry stone walls divide green paddocks and red clay fields.  It’s not as barren or mountainous as the other Baleric islands, and has lots of attractive sandy beaches.  

We’ve a problem with our clutch so have located a local gearbox spe******t based on Mallorca.  Plan is to contact him today – and dependent on when he can give us time – and where he can do that – may well sail onward to Alcudia on Mallorca today.

Cheers

JOHN

The journey over from S. Pietro to Balearics was a toughish one. 

Left early Sunday to head out around top end of S. Pietro and hoping we could make Menorca on the one board.  The Navtex weather forecast was for light NW’lys, later going north, which indicated we might need to use the engine also for the first half of the 200 mile leg. 

What they did not predict then, but we receipted late afternoon, was that a F7 gale was brewin up in the ‘weather kitchen’ of the Gulf de Lyon – some 250 miles north of where we were.  Red lights were popping off continually on the Navtex as the French, Italian, Spanish and even Croatian weather people started issuing gale warnings to send people scurrying for shelter.

Half way over, it made more sense for us to sort ourselves out and beat our way through it – so that’s what we did.  It hit us maybe 4 hours later, middle of the night, and inside 10 minutes we were down to sailing under a two reefed mainsail alone. 

Big seas.  Not sure of what height but we seemed at times to spend several seconds climbing the face of each big swell that rolled in on us from the north west.  Guess maybe 4 metre height.  We’d tend to smash over the top with a blast of white water over the whole boat, and then we’d experience the huge shuddering crash as we fell off the backs of the 1 / 2 metre waves riding on top of the swells.  We had no choice but to ease off on speed, and spent most of the night making less than 4 knots westward.  We found our most comfortably course was slightly south west, allowing us to take these big seas on our front quarter, and we continued on this roller coaster until dawn.

It proved to be bananas for lunch, pot noodles for evening meal, and Sue brought up her idea of trading to a caravan once again!

Sun-up saw the wind ease to F6, and the seas somewhat moderated - albeit as we rose on top of each crest and saw the miles of white water about to march down wind towards us - and knowing we had many miles yet to go - the caravan began to sound appealing. 

But the easier wind at least allowed us to resume a course that would see us at least hit Mallorca.  By early morning, the wind veered even more north, allowing us to lift and possibly make Menorca – our preferred choice. 

Still big seas, and even more impressive when you can see them properly in sunlight, but in bright sunshine, hand steering to head us up through the white water on the top, and slide off along the backs, kept our speeds reasonably high without too much bashing and crashing and felt pretty good. 

Shot past thre high headlands protecting the entrance to Mahon on Menorca at 1400.  The winds were still gusting 30+ knots and dissappeared to ziltch as we ran into the shelter of the harbour cliffs.

This port is a deeply indented cala running east / west and set into the north east tip of the island, with smaller calas in turn running off north and south of it.  Its reported to be one of the best natural harbours in this part of the Med.  About 4 miles long and maybe half a mile wide, with houses set on both north and south shores as you come in, and a few islets in the harbour itself. 

Mahon town is set on the southern shore right in at the head of the cala.

Strangely, 95% of the berthing options here are run by one company.  They have jetties in town, 4 floating pontoons, mooring buoys set up in some of the smaller calas, and licence rights over anchoring in some of the other spots further out in the harbour.

Could his dad be the mayor? 

But luck was not with us.  Despite being exhausted all oir attempts to find a berth were rejected.  'Sorry senor, we are full’.

So too knackered to care if we had to argue later with harbour police, and despite our chart notes saying that anchoring is forbidden, we dropped ours  into 15 metres of water alongside one of the small islets in the harbour.  We were well sheltered from every bit of weather that might arise, outside the main shipping channel, and it felt REALLY good to turn off the engine, find ourselves stationery on an even keel, and without the howling winds.

Cheers

JOHN