After another peaceful night in Cala Xarraca, we weighed anchor and headed further south, or rather southwest, along the northwest coast of Ibiza Island, with light winds out of the southeast, enjoying lovely scenery along the way. We’d expected a trip of about three hours, but it was close to 1500 by the time we found a suitable bay that wasn’t jam packed with watercraft of all shapes and sizes, after doing a road trip around every anchorage. The bay we ended up in, Badia de Portmany, was purely due to local knowledge, making us one of only two yachts in this anchorage with a sand bottom, but no reasonable shore access and definitely not very picturesque. However, it suited our needs; good holding, plenty of space, quiet, not rolly, protected from the southeasterly winds and away from the madding crowd. That was, of course, until a few more yachts arrived, one thinking of anchoring on top of us and then the jetskis, banana boats and speed merchants, who came into the anchorage just to race through the yachts and leave, with one clown actually making a doughnut all the way around Paw Paw then speeding off, but looking back to see us bouncing around in his wake. Such disrespect for fellow boaters and disregard for safety is simply appalling.

The corker of the day, however, was two little motorboats that came into the anchorage, each with a family onboard. Elaine had dropped Roy ashore to get some top up provisions and was back on Paw Paw pottering around when she heard voices very close by. Walking out to the foredeck she wished she’d taken a video of what unfolded.

One boat had dropped an anchor. The second one was attempting to raft to the other, while holding on to our bridle, and not one person looked around to see where they had ended up; on Paw Paw’s port bow. The laugh, of course, is that nothing registered when a rope appeared from heaven so they could hold on to it, while finishing their rafting!

When one person eventually did look around and saw Elaine peering down at them all, in her teapot stance, you’d have sworn they’d just seen a ghost and a mad scramble ensued to drop the rafting lines, haul up the anchor and speed off. We’ve actually run out of words to describe how we feel about all of this!

Our faith in humanity was somewhat restored, though, when the captain of the crewed charter yacht, which we’d seen anchored in this bay, came over to introduce himself and provide us with various titbits of local knowledge to help make our stay on Ibiza Island more convenient.

On shore, however, Roy was dealing with his own challenges, given that the first supermarket he went to only stocked booze, snacks and toiletries, clearly catering to the holidaymakers at the nearby hotel and waterpark complex. After walking a few more miles in the opposite direction, he eventually found a supermarket, frequented by locals and the additional advantage of much cheaper prices.

While Elaine sanitised and stowed our purchases, Roy went for a swim and to snorkel our anchor. When he discovered jellyfish, Elaine decided she’d skip a swim and enjoy a cold shower instead.

Although more yachts arrived in the anchorage as daylight faded, a pretty sunset wrapped up our day; it had been some time since we could see the western horizon or almost see it!