Fortunately the winds also backed from easterly to northeasterly during the night, giving us a much better angle of sail and allowing us to increase our SOG (Speed Over Ground). This came with a rather large swell, but it was a following sea, so we weren’t complaining. At last we weren’t beating to weather!
However, by 0900, when Elaine was in a lovely deep sleep after her early morning watch, Roy had to wake her for a sail change; it had become rather stormy all of a sudden, with overcast skies after a lovely clear night, the winds had veered to the east and had increased in strength, but allowed us to sail rather than motor-sail. Not even a half an hour later, though, it returned backed to northeasterly and stayed that way for the rest of the passage. However, by then, Elaine was wide awake and didn’t go back to bed. This turned out to be a mistake, but we weren’t to know what awaited us.
By 1015 we had 15NM to go, but still couldn’t see land. Soon thereafter, as we sailed over the ridge going from 2,286 metres / 7500 ft to less than 152 metres / 500 ft and causing us to surf in, similar to the BVI (British Virgin Islands) when approaching from St Martin, we spotted land ahoy and we changed country flags for the third time on this adventure. Then hearing the all ships VHF call for gale warnings along the Corsica and Sardinia coasts, we were delighted to be on our final approach into Spain. Sadly that delight didn’t last long!
After arriving in Mahon and motoring through the entire natural harbour, we discovered that all the anchorages noted on Navionics and Navily were no longer designated anchorage areas, except for one small area with poor holding and crammed with yachts, all anchored on top of each other. We attempted to anchor there, but kept dragging through the soft mud bottom. Giving up after an hour, we headed back out and further down the east coast, then along the south coast. By 1600 we hadn’t found anywhere to anchor that was at least tenable or that could fit Paw Paw. Everywhere was tiny cutouts and coves with one or two yachts in each or full of local boats, all of which reminded us of Egypt.
Eventually, both exhausted, we opted to anchor off Playa Son Bou at around 1700. As Roy said, it wasn’t ideal with the slight swell rolling in, but it was protected, had enough space and had good holding; it would do for the night.
After getting anchored, with three other yachts for company in the large bay, with a sandy beach running the length of the bay, packed with holidaymakers, Roy hopped in the water for a swim, while Elaine had a wee nap; she’d hit the wall by this stage.
Since we couldn’t get ashore, again, due to the cordoned off beach area and nowhere to land the dinghy, a shower, a light dinner and bed followed in quick succession.
Unfortunately, while the coastline was very picturesque and quite stunning in areas, with the cliffs and coves all along it, and the fabulous old British fort as we entered Mahon, providing a wonderful photo opportunity, we were just too tired to enjoy it, not to mention the fact that we’d completed another overnight sail and found there was nowhere to anchor, following policy changes coming into effect this year. It was stacking up to be another destination that really didn’t want transient cruisers, other than local yachts that filled the marinas.
After a reasonable night’s sleep, considering how rolly the anchorage was, we were both awake just before 0700, perused the weather and weighed anchor. The weather forecast, however, was essentially useless, given that each model showed something different. Deciding to randomly pick sunshine versus overcast skies and northeasterly winds, which were blowing at the time, we set off to find another anchorage further along the south coast of Minorca.
However, every “anchorage” was either a tiny cove or crammed with a handful of yachts bouncing around in the swell and, in our opinion, completely untenable with the strong southeasterly swell running straight into them, which got stronger the further west we motored, so much so that waves were breaking all along the cliffs. When we reached the lighthouse on Cap d’Artrutx, marking the southwestern tip of the island, we headed north and up the west coast.
By 1030 we’d found a somewhat protected wide open bay with plenty of room and good holding just south of Cala Blanca. However, by 1100, it too had become untenable as the north easterly winds became northwesterly and the southeasterly swell we’d seen along the south coast became northwesterly. It seemed the entire island was in the centre of one large swirl spinning around it. It didn’t help that we couldn’t get ashore either to get provisions, since the anchorage was surrounded by cliff face and we were running out of supplies, considering the last time we were able to access a supermarket was in Napoli on the Italian mainland, besides picking up a few odds and ends at a minimart on Ponza Island and in Porto Taverna in Sardinia. Additionally, all the local weekend revellers had come out of their marina berths and mayhem unfolded. That was our cue to weigh anchor and head to Mallorca. We weren’t prepared to try and put anymore lipstick on this pig and, for our troubles, all we got was a yacht covered in sticky red desert sand from the winds that were forecast to settle last night, but howled instead.
Our request was simply; somewhere safe and secure to anchor Paw Paw and a means of getting ashore to stock up on our provisions as well as have a walk to stretch our legs, but, sadly, Minorca Island did not have that to offer. What a disappointment, for Roy in particular, given that Elaine had vacationed on the island with Keenan years ago and it was one of her favourite destinations in Europe and he didn’t have the opportunity to explore it.
In very lumpy seas, with a rather large swell running in different directions, as well as the northwesterly wind on the nose, we motored the 35 NM to Mallorca Island in the hopes of getting our basic cruising needs and amenities satisfied, as well as get a much needed rest.
At around 1500 we could see land ahoy. Mallorca Island was certainly more mountainous than Minorca Island.
By 1730 we were anchored in Porto Pollença and by 1800 we were dressed, had dinghied ashore, had tied the dinghy to the dinghy dock and had picked a restaurant from the numerous restaurants lining the waterfront and beach areas to enjoy a well earned locally produced cold beverage and dinner, a seafood paella at the Marina Posters Restaurant. Heaven!
It was another motor to weather, but we were hopeful that this was the last, since northerly and easterly winds were forecast for our overnight to the Balearic Islands.
Besides a few yachts under sail, we also had the usual speedboats, fishing boats and fishing pods to avoid, all of which caused a “traffic jam” ahead of us at one point. The corker, however, was a “gin palace”, flying along at 15 Kts and hurtling straight towards us. After Elaine altered course to starboard to pass port to port, this motoryacht didn’t budge. It wasn’t until she hailed them on the VHF radio to ask them what there intentions were, did they jump into action, stuttering and spluttering on the radio as they did so; they clearly weren’t paying attention and hadn’t seen us, although both yachts showed up on the AIS (Automatic Identification System).
After Elaine’s morning nap, around 1100 it was Roy’s turn and we could see the headland in the distance.
By 1630 we were anchored in a beautiful anchorage off Piana Island. It was the first European anchorage that reminded us of the South Pacific, with crystal clear turquoise water and the lovely white sandy beaches of “Spiaggia La Pelosa” and “Spiaggia La Pelosetta” running along the headland, with the ancient medieval tower of “Torre della Pelosa”, built in the 1570s to defend Sardinia from invasion, standing guard on the edge of the Asinara Strait that runs between Capo Falcone and Isola Piana.
After admiring the scenery, we however, had various tasks to complete for our imminent departure to Spain, including activities on our pre-sail checklist, checking the oil on both engines and saildrives, unzipping the stackpack of the mainsail, lifting the sunscreens on the saloon windows and giving all the windows of the saloon and helmstation a good wash; between dust and seawater they were so dirty we couldn’t see out of them anymore.
Sadly, we’d saved the best for last in Italy, but time was marching on and we had to press on. Staying another day was not an option, unfortunately, especially since strong easterlies were expected, exposing the anchorage and these were winds we wanted to take advantage of.
Although the forecast had indicated winds out of the north, veering to the northeast and then the east during the course of our passage to Minorca, the northern most Balearic Island in Spain, there was barely a breath of wind. That, of course, meant we were motoring again. In the hopes that we may be sitting in a wind shadow, we kept the mainsail hoisted, but, by 0830, we reluctantly dropped it and Roy went for a nap.
On Elaine’s watch, a slight breeze picked up from the northeast at around 0900; Elaine’s cue to unfurl the headsail. Once Roy surfaced from his nap, we unfurled the 150% genoa completely, placed it on the barberhauler and increased our SOG (Speed Over Ground) by 0.5 Kts. We we taking everything we could get.
During Elaine’s nap, a favourable current set in too, increasing our SOG to 6.8 Kts. We realised we’d probably be paying the piper later, but we were just pleased to enjoy the ride.
Apart from one or two yachts heading south, down the west coast of Sardinia, and one or two fishing boats, the only other company we had were cargo ships in the distance. We’d assumed there would be a convoy of yachts heading west today, given the number of yachts that were in the anchorage last night, but we’ve come to realise that we’re the only idiots heading west through the Mediterranean; everyone else is heading east into the world’s largest cul de sac, but enjoying great downwind sailing as they go.
On each of our watches we saw a lone dolphin; quite sad really, but not surprising, given that we’ve seen very little sea life other than turtles in Türkiye since arriving in the Mediterranean last March. Neither of us has seen a single fish at anchor and usually there are teams of them under Paw Paw. Even in the crystal clear waters of our anchorage last night, part of the “International Nature Park” established in 2010, not a single fish.
By 1800 the winds out of the northeast started to strengthen slightly, which kept our SOG high without the advantage of the stronger current we’d had earlier in the day. For this and the sparkles on the flat seas we were very grateful.
With the waning gibbous only rising after midnight, it was a very dark night initially, but it was lovely to see the stars as well as bioluminescence disturbed by Paw Paw’s propellers again.
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We’d already made the decision we would go as far as the weather would permit, but hoped to reach the anchorage just south of the most northern point of Sardinia near Porto Pollo and, thankfully, we did, after a rather rough start, especially as we passed Cape Figari. Strangely enough, though, getting through the strait was the easier and more enjoyable part of the trip, although it was a bit of a maze weaving between Sardinia and all the outer islands that comprise the nature reserve and where yachts are prohibited to go, as well as avoiding all the yachts under sail coming in the opposite direction, all the speedboats and all the ferries. It didn’t help matters either that we were both feeling somewhat sleep deprived after the fiasco we had to deal with in the anchorage last night, coupled with an early rise. However, it was a scenic trip, but quite desolate; we could have been back in Türkiye. We were surprised to see how populated the northern coast was, though, compared to the other areas we’d passed, including some of the outer islands, the latter definitely not expected, given that the area is a nature reserve with many restrictions.
Initially we also had to stop for four large ferries coming over from mainland Italy and all arrived more or less at once to the large commercial port we passed along the way.
The Strait of Bonifacio lies between the French island of Corsica and the Italian island of Sardinia and is home to 40% of all the Mediterranean’s species. The richness of the underwater fauna and variety of rare birds earned it the designation of “International Marine Park” in 2010, the result of a combined initiative of the French and Italian ministries of ecology, making it mainland France’s largest nature reserve. Additionally all French and Italian flagged ships are prohibited from transiting the strait and other internationally flagged ships carrying hazardous cargo have to follow a strict procedure, all in an effort to ensure there isn’t a shipping catastrophe that would pollute and potentially devastate the area, like the grounding of an oil tanker, for instance.
The diversity of the strait comprises 1,745 different species, including 977 species of fauna of which 18 are mammals, 165 birds, 7 reptiles, 2 amphibians, 187 fish, 11 protochordates, 13 echinoderms, 262 insects, 11 arachnids, 6 bryozoans, 103 crustaceans, 143 molluscs, seven annelids, 23 cnidarians and 19 spongarians and we’ll be very impressed if you know what all those are without googling them.
For us, though, we were simply delighted to have safely transited another strait and to be on the move again, heading west and soon southwest. From hereon in our VMG (Velocity Made Good) will increase dramatically, since we’re on the downhill run now, thank goodness!
After dodging all the windsurfers and getting safely anchored, a nice chat to Elaine’s sister, Dianne, followed by dinner, a shower and bed sealed the day.
We did, however, decide to try a different establishment for our morning coffee outing, choosing Restaurante La Tavernetta at the southern end of the bay after enjoying a nice long walk along the beach. Unfortunately, this turned out to be a bad choice. We were definitely not impressed with a constant smell of sewerage, barely a mouthful of coffee and a less than mediocre pastry.
Not wanting to return to Paw Paw straight away, though, only to listen to the howling wind, we decided to “take two” and enjoy a better coffee morning back at Mare Azzurro.
Being hyped on caffeine and sugar was probably not the best idea either and, by the time lunchtime rolled around, neither of us was particularly hungry, so we settled for a bit of fruit. One bite into the chopped up plum, however, had us wondering whether or not we’d just eaten a lemon, it was so bitter. Absolutely awful. It was clear that fruit, with a few exceptions, has not been the European Union’s strong point thus far.
Back onboard, Roy added our route to the chartplotter to get around the northern tip of Sardinia and on to the northwestern staging area. We were feeling a tad more optimistic, although the wind howled all night, it seemed to be settling. That was until this afternoon when it was back up to sustained winds of 25-30 Kts. After a week of being pinned down, we had to come up with Plan B, especially after one of the servers ashore indicated that the locals prefer the wind, since it keeps the temperatures bearable in the summer. Not exactly what we wanted to hear.
Respite from the wind, however, may arrive if temperatures hit 35/36C as forecast later this week to coincide with lighter winds. It’s hard to tell, though, when the forecasts are so unreliable and it seems these lighter winds are being kicked down the road like a tin can, never to actually materialise.
To add to our frustrations, we had a whole new set of charter yachts arrive today, after some yachts departed this morning to continue south or east and, with that, came another numpty to anchor over our anchor and swing across our bow.
This time, however, Elaine got in the dinghy and went over to the yacht, armed with her cellphone in the event she had to translate. After explaining that we were uncomfortable with a yacht so close to us, not only over our anchor, but swinging wildly in the stronger winds, they apologised profusely and indicated they understood and would move.
Well, a little while later, while Roy was on deck checking the mainsail head bolt, he first noticed these charterers getting their dinghy in the water, then, when trying to lift the anchor, they inadvertently jammed the snubber in the windlass. While all four of them were on the bow, they didn’t realise they’d dragged to within a few feet of Paw Paw’s bow, almost turning her into a trimaran. It wasn’t until they saw us standing on deck with a fender each, did they narrowly avoid hitting us by motoring forward.
Of course, their windlass was still jammed and by the time they had that sorted out and re-anchored they were barely metres from their original spot, although more to our starboard side. At this point we decided to let sleeping dogs lie, knowing they had let out plenty of scope and were well dug in, based on how violently the yacht jerked forward with the engine at full throttle in reverse in 25 Kts of wind on the nose and the anchor bit. We were surprised to see the bow of their yacht was still attached; it was the best we could ask for under the circumstances!
To say this is a circus, is an understatement, which is proving to be more entertaining than watching animals. When Roy spotted one of these same charterers starting the dinghy engine, while it was still mounted to the transom of the yacht and out of the water, then revving it, we were one hundred percent certain that these folks were an accident looking for a place to happen. Plan B simply had to be executed sooner rather than later!
By 2200 we were still on numpty duty, but numpty is simply not a strong enough word to describe the fool tonight, who came in after dark, in howling winds and shoehorned a huge racing yacht in between us and our floating neighbours to either side of us and right over our anchor. Well, he got more than he bargained for when all of us starting blowing our horns and shouting at the skipper to move. He then still had the audacity to put up a fight before eventually succumbing, taking a perfect spot to our starboard side and aft of us all, where there was amble space to begin with and where he motored right passed, choosing to shoehorn in instead.
It’s fair to say, by this stage, we’d both simply had enough; Elaine, in particular, was now on the warpath and she won’t be taking any prisoners moving forward!
To try and decompress after a stressful afternoon and night we sat out and enjoyed the supermoon rising before retiring for the night.
After being yacht bound all of yesterday, we decided to use the “dinghy carpark” service again, pay our €5 for the privilege and enjoy a break from bouncing around in the fetch.
A coffee and baked delight at Mare Azzurro added some sweetness to our day, before we took another walk to the little convenience shop at the campgrounds. Thankfully, although a Sunday, it was open, as we wanted to have everything we needed for the remainder of our stay in Sardinia, as well as our overnight sail to Spain.
Taking a more scenic route back lead us to the southern end of the beach and, being a Sunday, with better weather, it was packed. Given the number of cars parked in the various carparks, it was clear these were mostly locals enjoying a Sunday outing.
Back on Paw Paw, while Elaine sanitised and stowed our purchases, tidied up and started to upload our photographs to the website gallery, before encountering an issue, Roy started the watermaker then cleaned the fuel gauge tank sensor on the port diesel tank, after it decided to play up. Fortunately we have a functioning starboard gauge and we keep a log of our consumption, so it’s not a major issue. It may well have to be replaced, as did the starboard one a few years back; time will tell. At this particular point in time, though, we’ll be returning to Gibraltar, after our visit to Ireland, like packhorses again, with all the parts we’ve had to order since returning from the US in March this year. A never ending cycle, but a tad frustrating, given all the work we did on Paw Paw over the winter to prepare her for this passage and our Atlantic Ocean crossing later this year! It is the nature of sailing, however; fixing something on a yacht in an exotic location, as a cruising friend of ours once said.
By mid afternoon, the anchorage had definitely started to fill up with yachts, like ourselves, waiting to get further north and around the northern tip of Sardinia to take advantage of the improving weather to the west of Sardinia, while the eastern side of the Strait of Bonifacio continues to have less than ideal weather.
The excitement of the day, however, was Roy and his rescue missions this afternoon; not only one, but two. First, cruisers in their dinghy lost the use of their engine and were battling to row back to their yacht against the strong wind and the fetch. Then, after towing them back to their yacht, Roy discovered they were actually on their way to rescue a windsurfer, who had been swept right out of the bay and was struggling to get back. So, after securing their dinghy, off they all set to rescue the windsurfer. They had almost reached him when the beach rescue crew arrived, rather late to be honest, since apparently the windsurfer had been struggling for more than 30 minutes to get back. Either way, he was definitely relieved to get a tow back to shore. For his efforts, Roy was offered a cold “thank you” beer, much to his delight. The coincidence in all of this was that the woman in the dinghy, who Roy rescued, was actually from Belfast; what are the chances!
Our day ended with a beautiful full moon, rising to the east of the bay, while the winds continued to howl from the west. Our anticipated early morning departure tomorrow was definitely looking very unlikely!
