By 1100 we’d dropped the hook off Platia de Ses Illetes, in crystal clear turquoise waters lapping a beautiful white sandy beach and overlooking the famous sand dunes. Perfect!
Well, that was until 1130 when we were literally invaded. It reminded us of the Rome invasion off Ponza Island in Italy, although there were ten times the number of boats of all description this time. At this stage we’d already got in the dinghy to head ashore for a snoop around, but we were rocked around so badly we decided it was far too dangerous and promptly got back onto Paw Paw, raised the dinghy and weighed anchor. Nothing was worth that hell. Of course, in the process, Roy stood on something, which Elaine needed to extract with a pair of tweezers, while one metre waves hit Paw Paw from every direction from the wake all the motoryachts and speedboats racing to get their spot, regardless of where we were positioned relative to their chosen spot!
Moving further down the coast to Racó des Berro, where most of the sailing yachts were anchored, was marginally better, although we still bounced around. Finding a spot between the already anchored boats at least precluded any numpties from anchoring on top of us. It’s fair to say, though, at this stage we just want out of the Mediterranean, but, unfortunately, we’re stuck here whether we like it or not, given the unfavourable weather to the south of us and miserable weather arriving from the north in the next few days.
To preserve our sanity, we eventually found a way to get to shore, after dinghying around the harbour wall and into Estany des Peix, a fabulous lagoon, where we beached the dinghy and enjoyed a walk around the town of La Savina.
Afterwards we found a lovely outdoor restaurant, Port Amagat, and enjoyed a fabulous meal, while Elaine briefly chatted to the family on the Zoom get-together arranged by Elaine’s sister, Deborah.
By the time we returned to Paw Paw, the weekend revellers had departed, but it remained “party central” with a few crewed chartered yachts around us celebrating special occasions. The old adage of: “If you can’t beat them, join them” springs to mind as we sat out in the cockpit and soaked up the atmosphere until the sun set. By then the churned up waters had started to subside and we could head for our beds.
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!
First we headed east towards what we thought was a river mouth, only to discover, instead, a little cove with a beach, a restaurant and a “home” built into a cave; clearly a very rudimentary dwelling, since the occupant promptly sat down in a rock pool and completed his ablutions while Elaine was making a video; no shame! We truly have to question our own sanity these days, based on what we’ve witnessed over these past few months. Incredulous!
From there we dinghied along the coastline, passing a few more cave dwellings, enjoying the beautiful scenery along the way and water that was so clear, it was like glass, while heading back towards the anchorage and into the far southwestern area of the bay, where we found another restaurant, a beach with a pier and two enormous private homes.
After tying up the dinghy, we enjoyed a coffee and a less than delightful croissant served dry and rather old at Restaurante Cala Xarraca. That was our cue to return to Paw Paw and enjoy an afternoon onboard.
Elaine completed some administrative tasks that had been outstanding for a few days, while Roy ran the watermaker and tightened the port shroud slightly on the standing rigging after we noticed it was looser than the starboard side and then made arrangements for the rig to be tuned in Gibraltar, to be sure, to be sure.
Afterwards, we enjoyed another swim and a relaxing evening while watching the anchorage fill up again, after emptying out this morning. We were definitely surprised, though, to spot jellyfish in the water when Roy raised the dinghy; clearly that was the end of our swimming escapades and time to move on.
Not wanting to bounce around in the anchorage in the wakes of all the revellers a minute longer than necessary, we opted to go ashore for lunch, choosing the Calvia Beach House on the waterfront; a club sandwich for Elaine and a Lebanese lamb kebab for Roy, but what a completely tasteless meal it was. Oh how we miss the flavours of the South Pacific and SE Asia!
Disappointed in general with Palma Nova, we returned to Paw Paw and felt our blood pressures rise as every jetski, water-skier, banana boat and speedboats of all shapes and sizes raced through the anchorage, not to mention the numerous “gin palaces” that squeezed in between the sailing yachts, of course entering at full throttle until the last second, all having complete disregard for the impact their wakes were having on the anchored yachts. It was complete mayhem until around 2000 before all the noise mysteriously ceased, making for a very unpleasant day.
It didn’t help matters then that the slight southeasterly swell and light wind that had been present all day too, increased in intensity just before sunset. Annoyed with ourselves at holding out rather than moving to a different bay, we weighed anchor and raced over to an anchorage east of Palma Nova and tucked in behind Illa de sa Torre, something we should have done in the morning and saved ourselves a lot of unpleasantness and annoyance.
While bouncing around at anchor, though, Roy used his time wisely to complete the permanent installation of the new windlass control, crimping wires as needed, since yesterday’s solution was a temporary measure just so we could drop the anchor. When the windlass didn’t work after his efforts, though, despair and confusion set in, only to remember we needed to have the port engine switched on. This is the second time this year we’ve forgotten about this incy wincy little detail. Relieved that we actually didn’t have another issue, he also checked the oil of both engines and saildrives, given that we’d had a few more days of motoring since leaving Port de Pollença.
Today we were up with the alarm and had weighed anchor by 0615. As soon as we left the bay, we raised the mainsail and set a course for Ibiza Island; we were sailing, yes sailing, at last! This was our first proper sail in the Mediterranean, under full sails, on a beam reach in 10-13 kts of wind out of the east, giving us a SOG (Speed Over Ground) of 6.5-7 Kts. It was simply wonderful to be sailing again after months of motoring or motor-sailing.
By 1300 the winds had picked up to 15-20 Kts; it was time to reef the mainsail, given that we were flying along by this stage at 8.5-9 Kts and approaching a cape. Unfortunately Roy had barely gone down for a quick nap when Elaine had to wake him to reef. She had fortunately enjoyed an uninterrupted nap earlier, though, and had started to collate our Passage Meal Plan for our Atlantic Ocean crossing in an attempt to simplify the variety of dietary requirements we will have onboard for the crossing.
Under reefed sails, we cruised into Cala Xarraca. We’d improved our anchorage selection by the additional use of Google Maps to search for resorts, hotels, jetski outlets, speedboat hire, etc and then ruled those bays out entirely; we were in desperate need of peace and tranquility.
By 1500 we were securely anchored in sand, in a large bay, surrounded by crystal clear turquoise waters and a stunning natural scenery.
We’d thoroughly enjoyed our sail, which definitely helped test our new standing rigging and polished some of our rather rusty sailing skills; sailing with our navigation lights on for most of the day, after our early morning departure from Mallorca Island, was definitely a rookie’s mistake. Then getting one of the mainsail reefing lines wrapped around the iridium antenna and a second around the wind generator reminded Roy that he needed to pull in the reefing lines while reefing. Oh the joys of sitting in a marina for a year followed by months of motoring.
Elaine also had her first proper swim for the season, which was then followed by sundowners. Life was good again after three miserable days / nights on the south coast of Mallorca Island.
So, do we stay where we are or try find another more suitable anchorage along the southern coast, albeit that all the weather forecasts showed a southerly component to the winds and swell?
After scrutinising Navionics for the umpteenth time, we decided being behind the headland at Palma Nova was our best bet, a three hour trek in the wrong direction. Regardless, we weighed anchor and set sail around 1030, only to have the windlass control stop working just short of the anchor being fully lodged in its cradle. Now it didn’t matter where we went, we couldn’t anchor anyway!
That meant, while Elaine steered us through the absolutely chaotic mayhem on the water heading east, Roy replaced the windlass control while bouncing around in the waves and wakes, our third one in nearly ten years; more expensive equipment that can’t stay the course! It didn’t help matters that we’d been informed that our Yellowbrick has to be returned to the UK to have the battery replaced.
Fortunately the new controller rectified the issue, but chaos continued to reign on the water, with motor yachts, at times five abreast, raced each other as they came screaming towards Paw Paw, while others raced each other from the rear. Throw in a few sailing yachts trying to tack up and down across our bow in basically no wind and we were flabbergasted. We’d never seen anything like it and wondered how many boating accidents occur in these waters over the summer.
It was close to 1400 by the time we were securely anchored, after an initial attempt of dragging through weed, but every watercraft on the south coast of Mallorca Island must have been in the anchorage. It was jam packed and motor yachts and “gin palaces” were still arriving.
By then we were both too tired to be bothered and headed to our beds after lunch and after Roy had snorkelled the anchor to make sure we’d hit a sandy patch.
After an early dinner, we dinghied ashore, delighted to find another dinghy dock.
A stroll along the waterfront revealed white sandy beaches to one side, with people playing all sorts of beach games, from volleyball to table tennis and soccer and rows of bars and restaurants on the other, but no gelato outlets or cafés where we could have a coffee. We eventually found a café serving coffee and baked goods in the lobby of one of the hotels. It was a far cry from everywhere else we’ve been, though; paper cups, paper plates and barely warm coffee, but the lounge area was very comfortable and the decor was rather interesting. We had a good laugh at the ideal of just falling asleep on the sofas and wondered if anyone would notice.
Back onboard, we were both looking forward to a good night’s sleep, since the anchorage had cleared out, the wind had calmed and turned to the north, which in turn helped to moderate the swell. Unfortunately an isolated thunderstorm materialised just east of Palma, causing a wind shift and one of the yachts next to us to drag. However, Elaine didn’t hear a thing, other than Roy’s footsteps on the deck at one point.
Once that was out of the way, we dinghied ashore for a coffee and baked delight, choosing Café Capuchino on the waterfront to stay in the cool breeze.
Afterwards it was time to complete our provisioning in preparation for our departure, but what a nightmare that turned into. To begin with, it’s not the largest supermarket with narrow isles. Compound that with unpacked boxes stacked everywhere, blocking the isles, kids running around grabbing items off the shelves and shouting to their parents to enquire if they could have whatever it was they’d grabbed, parents shouting back, other holidaymakers standing in the middle of the isles staring aimlessly or discussing, in awe, how cheap everything was compared to “back home”. At one point Elaine thought Roy was going to loose it, but we managed to get what we could, frazzled, but unscathed. It’s fair to say that the longer we’ve sailed the less we like or can tolerate most humans, especially en masse!
Back onboard everything was sanitised and stowed before we sat down to revisit our itinerary for Ireland. That took a lot longer than we envisaged because we’d added a few more stops on our road trip, primarily to see family in the north of County Donegal.
After dinner we’d planned on going ashore again for an ice-cream, but a quick perusal of the weather radar showed storms brewing to the northeast of us and moving in our direction. Instead, we dinghied ashore only to drop off the remainder of our garbage, mostly packaging from our provisions, then returned to Paw Paw for an early night. We definitely couldn’t complain, though, since we could have been on the Greek island of Rhodes dealing with wildfires.
This morning we were awake with the alarm, weighed anchor and said goodbye to Port de Pollença, after thoroughly enjoying our two week holiday there. This was our last big push to Gibraltar, although we hoped to enjoy one or two spots along the way. It didn’t help matters, though, that our Yellowbrick tracker decided to give up the ghost; rather annoying because we now don’t have a track of our route and our shore contacts can’t keep an eye on us. Fortunately we don’t have anymore overnight sails until we reach Gibraltar, where we hope to get the battery replaced. We can’t really complain, though, since we haven’t had an ounce of trouble from this device in more than 10 years. We just didn’t think about getting the battery replaced while we sat in Türkiye; another oversight on our part.
Regardless, in flat seas, calm winds and sweltering heat, all creating a haze with poor visibility, we motored around the top northwestern tip of Mallorca Island and continued down the northwestern coast, passing Port de Sóller en route, which we’d visited by land a few days ago.
When the wind eventually picked up at around noon, it unfortunately was not in the direction forecast. Instead, we had 10-15 Kts out of the south and directly on the nose, slowing us down. For the entire time that we sat at anchor in Port de Pollença, the wind predominantly blew out of the northeast and that was what was forecast for today, giving us the hope that we would be able to sail. So much for that bright idea!
To pass the time, Roy ran the watermaker and rinsed Paw Paw’s decks, while Elaine washed the helmstation and cockpit; the red desert sand was everywhere again, but fortunately not as bad as what we’d experienced during our brief overnight on Minorca Island.
As the day progressed we had a variety of watercraft for company; yachts, motorboats, megayachts, sailing dinghies, kayaks, you name it, all sailing up and down the coast, in different directions, requiring a sharp lookout, as most of the larger vessels didn’t have an AIS (Automatic identification System) and in the haze and poor visibility, it was difficult to see them at a distance.
The further south we progressed, though, the gloomier the weather became, but we enjoyed some spectacular scenery, including the very picturesque village of Banyabufar, perched on the edge of the cliffs and nestled in the foothills of the towering mountains set as a backdrop.
As we turned southeast, though, the landscape changed; less greenery and more arid, although the towering cliffs were impressive.
By 1800 we were anchored off Camp de Mar with a little beach, Playa Roca de Camp de Mar, in the northeast corner of the bay; not the most picturesque anchorage, but it will do, since we don’t intend to linger here for too long. That, of course, will all depend on the weather.
The highlight of our day, however, was receiving photographs from Brooke of the three grandsons, dressed for their first day of the new school year. It was definitely a tad sad to see them all so grown up, but we wish them a great year ahead at their new school.
Afterwards we took another bus trip; this time across the bay to Alcúdia and what another lovely surprise this turned out to be. As usual, we hadn’t done any research ahead of time and thought we were going to the other seaside beach area of Port d'Alcúdia and Platja d'Alcúdia, a 14 km / 8.7 mile long beach; anywhere would suffice rather than getting bounced around in the anchorage with all the weekend speedboat revellers out again. Instead, what we found was the UNESCO World Heritage Site of the historic and well preserved Old Town of Alcúdia, pedestrianised and encircled by its 14th Century medieval walls, with narrow streets and centuries-old buildings, dating back to the 13th Century.
Research revealed that the area where Alcúdia is located has been inhabited since the Bronze Age, but it was the arrival of the Romans, after they captured the island of Mallorca in 123 BC, using the beaches of Alcúdia Bay, that founded the cities of Palma and Pollentia.
However, as Rome lost its position as the dominant power in the western Mediterranean, Pollentia was abandoned and left in ruins, while the remaining population created a new town, Pollença. The remains of the ancient Roman city can be seen just outside the medieval walls.
In 1298, a Moorish farmstead, known then by the Arabic name of “Alkudja” and located very close to the ancient city of Pollentia, was bought by King James II of Aragon, following which the new town, Alcúdia, was founded.
A church, a graveyard, a house for priests, and a town square were created in the same year. The construction of the wall was also initiated at that time and completed in 1362, all of which we could see during our wanderings around the Old Town. Apparently the city plan that was created at the time remains the same for Alcúdia today and you can almost walk around the entire Old Town along the walls.
Land was given up in 1302 by the King of Mallorca, James III, to build the present day church, “Iglesia de St. Jaume d'Alcúdia” (Church of St. James of Alcúdia), a neo-Gothic style construction, built into the town’s restored medieval walls and which also houses “Capilla del Sant Crist” (Chapel of St Crist), built between 1675 and 1697 to honour Sant Crist, a consequence of the increasing devotion that Alcúdia and the neighbouring villages felt for Saint Crist, following a miracle in the area. With droughts persisting, the locals decided to carry the image of Sant Crist in a procession from Alcúdia to the Cave of Sant Martí begging for water in their prayers. The image of Sant Crist started to sweat drops of blood and water on their return to the city. A notary recorded the event, as the image sweated for three days. That year, bountiful rain fell and the yields were plentiful. Since then, Alcúdia has celabrated this miracle every three years, on the 26th July with a religious procession that passes through the town.
The chapel consists of a central dome and four side chapels, along with the altarpiece, which is a spectacular work of baroque art. In the centre of the altarpiece is an image of Saint James, the patron saint of Alcúdia.
After strolling around the Old Town, we returned to the main square and enjoyed a coffee at one of the many small restaurants, before taking the bus back to Port de Pollença.
Back onboard, after stopping to purchase a few provisions, the bulk of which we were leaving until tomorrow, Roy fixed the hatch in the aft port cabin that just decided to break a little while ago then spent what was left of the day lounging around with Elaine.
