To Porto Petro

22nd May

I have found this blog difficult to write. I don't know why: perhaps because I thought it was going to be easy. Anyway, I finally got it down... then somehow or other manage to delete the file. I've NEVER done that before. Calamity! So here I am, hoping I can get it down again without too many tries. Today, almost two weeks later, I am sitting in the cockpit as we make our way to Ibiza... seven hours of passage so hopefully I can get it done before we arrive. At the moment there is not a breath of wind and it looks like a smooth crossing, but no sail.

Back to Cabrera. We motored out of the very protected harbour and were making our way through a channel between islands (Conejera and Redonda) when we realised there was some wind so, as soon as we were through, out came the genoa. The wind was behind us so there was no point bringing out the mainsail. If there is a wind direction that Ganymede hates, it is from behind. I would like to say she makes slow, stately progress but I suspect the truth is more that she waddles like a duck and doesn't make a lot of progress. But sail we would. Our first sail of the season and I felt ready for it.

We would like to sell Ganymede and buy a smaller boat and often discuss the possibility of giving up sail and buying a motor cruiser, strictly engine only. After all, here in the Med the wind is either too little, too much or directly on the bow. We find we motor about 70% of the time. But then the day arrives when the wind is perfect, we put up the sails, switch off the engine and... silence. Except, it isn't silence. It is the noise of nature, of the wind in the sails, waves sploshing on the hull and Ganymede swishing through the water. Bliss! Then we know that we won't be buying a motor cruiser.

Today's sail was perfect for a first of the season, especially since I still didn't have my sea-legs. With the wind behind there is no heeling over and progress seems gentle. In fact, we made almost 7 knots at times, mostly it was between 5.5 and 6 and even down to 4 - our rule is that we start the engine at 4 knots, which in reality means that we will go down to 3 - just give the wind one more chance - before we give up. The wind was in our favour that day and we were able to sail all the way to Porto Perto, on mainland Mallorca, two hours away.

Arriving in the bay at Porto Petro we discovered that mooring buoys have been laid but there was no-one around to tell us which ones, if any, we could pick up. Although there were orange buoys and white buoys they all seemed to be randomly placed. As we approached our preferred anchorage I noticed someone sitting in the cockpit of the only boat currently moored. The flag was British so no problem with the language. I called, asked about mooring and was told that he didn't know, he had been there a few days and no-one had come near. Did we want help picking up a buoy? Did we want help!!! So that was that, five minutes later, in spite of a wind that tried to make life difficult, we were comfortably moored and taking note of our surroundings.

We had chosen an inlet from the main bay, just inside the entrance, In fact, the inlet divided into two and we were at the mouth of the larger one, which was still not large. The shore on either side was stony, dotted with pine trees. It rose steeply to a band of pines and behind those, the low buildings of a hotel complex, the buildings only partially viewed through the trees. In places some steps had been built to give access to bathing platforms but I had the impression that this had not been a great success. Diving into the sea was easy enough. Getting out again was not. I could see one ladder... broken. However, the platforms were popular with sunbathers who, when too hot, would make there way gingerly to the shore and splash cool water over themselves. At the head of the bay there was a stretch of sandy beach. On a further shore were some luxurious looking villas and then the cliff that led round to the lighthouse on the headland.

Looking out over the rest of the bay, the impression was of a circular bay, the entrance narrow. The best kind of bay. There was another anchorage with mooring buoys across and further into the bay and more buoys down the middle. This further bay was more popular with maybe a dozen boats moored there. But our little inlet had a wifi connection. I think I will make a map of anchorages where there is wifi available.

So that is the bay at Porto Petro, as far as we can see. It remained to be seen how Ganymede would swing on the buoy. Tony assures me we will be fine. He always does. I am never so sure, worrying about being too close to shore, about hitting bottom. As it was, there was no problem but Ganymede did need the entire width of the inlet. Tony didn't check the depths as we swung and I assiduously didn't suggest it. We swung towards shore. No problem. We swung towards the other shore. It was close but all was well. In the middle of the night we swung towards the nearest buoy... and gently rubbed against it. Tony had to get up and tighten the mooring line to pull Ganymede forward, off the offending buoy.

Next morning we went ashore, to investigate, buy in supplies and go to the hairdresser.