Back to Cala Talamanca

17th - 18th June

There was a good wind in the morning and Alistair wanted to windsurf. He had found somewhere to rent a board, a little way along the bay, we were ready for a change of scene so we upped anchor and motored to a new anchorage. There was 20 knots of wind . As soon as we were safely at anchor Alistair, Gill, Eva and I went ashore while Tony stayed on board, on anchor watch... just in case! It was a wet trip into the beach, waves splashing over us. Fortunately, Eva loved the dinghy, didn't mind the waves.

The moral of the next bit of this story is: never rent a windsurfer from anyone who doesn't seem to care about the strength of the wind, who doesn't make any attempt to discover how proficient you are and who doesn't have a safety dinghy. Also, never go out on a windsurfer when the wind is blowing 20 knots and you do not know how well-maintained the equipment is. Alistair enjoyed his sail for about ten minutes, until something broke... he couldn't fix it and he couldn't get back to shore. He tried valiantly but with the wind and the waves... not good.

At the same time, Eva fell and caught her head on the side of some decking. Immediately a swelling the size of an egg appeared. Eva was howling, inconsolable.

Alistair looked to be getting into real difficulties, getting closer and closer to some rocks. No-one from the windsurfing place seemed to be taking any notice.

Two decisions: Take Eva to a doctor to have her checked and get someone out to bring Ali back ashore. Gill soothed Eva, I ran to the windsurfers' hut. Oh, but I am seriously unfit!!! By the time I got Ali's 'rescue' organised and back to Gill, Eva was calm and the swelling was getting smaller. Probably wouldn't have needed to see the doctor, but better to be safe. The taxi arrived, Alistair got back and off they went to have Eva seen to.

I sat in the café and read my book.

They seemed to be back in no time (Eva was fine) but I had already decided: lunch in the café would be good. Tony was fetched and we enjoyed a long, leisurely lunch. But no paella.

We moved a couple of times during the afternoon, trying to find a spot that was less rolly. The wind had whipped up the sea. In the end, we anchored in a newly designated (at least, it wasn't in our pilot guide!) marine reserve... thought we had avoided the weed but were soon asked, very politely, to move. They didn't have a mooring buoy suitable for us but suggested we could anchor closer in to the beach, which we immediately did.

We were off the island of Espalmador, in a sheltered bay, out of the wind, out of the waves. Joined to Formentera by a short sandbank, Espalmador is virtually uninhabited and is privately owned. There is some conservation work to regenerate the sand dunes and visitors are encouraged not to visit them. The beach is long, sandy and deserted, especially at night when all the tourist boats have gone home.

The next morning was spent on the beach. We had walked along to the nearest point to Formentera and had found a pool left behind by the waves of the previous day. Well, Eva thought it was just wonderful. Round and round she ran, splashing and laughing. This was great fun. But slowly the water was evaporating and finally it was time to go.

Our time in Formentera was over, it was time to sail back to Ibiza. We had decided to go back to Cala Talamanca. The wind was good, Ganymede was well packed and off we went, Alistair at the helm. It was a good sail, Alistair enjoyed himself, tweaking the sails, adjusting our course, so that he got the best possible out of Ganymede. All too soon we were back in Talamanca, dropping the anchor once again.

Alistair and Gill went out for a romantic dinner. 'We won't be late, the last ferry is at 1.00, we don't want to be too tired tomorrow, it's our last day.' Those were their parting words as they left Ganymede.