Moraira again

14th-26th July: Part 2

Charlie's girlfriend, Hannah, her mum, Clair, and brother, Max, arrived in Javea the next day. Javea is a short distance up the coast from Moraira and we decided we would go there for a couple of days at least. I phoned the marina but at the time there were no places, of course, but we could try later. We upped anchor and headed off to Javea anyway. If we couldn't get into the marina we could always sit at anchor, as usual.

The anchorage in Javea didn't inspire us. Mooring buoys had been laid but there was no indication what size boats they were designed for or even whether they were available to all and sundry. In any case, there were none free so we found our spot, dropped our anchor and looked about. There was absolutely no way to go ashore with the dinghy. Charlie needed to get ashore in order to join Hannah and her family in their villa. Off they went, Tony and Charlie in the dinghy, determined to find a way to the beach. Eventually Tony came back, not too happy. They had made their way along the shore until they came to an open space that was available for jet skis to get in and out from the beach. Fine, that would suit a little dinghy. But no, as soon as they started to head for the beach they were shouted at... 'you can't come here!!!' Well, Tony was having none of it. He was tired of always giving way, always being polite. So, "I am coming ashore for two minutes, like it or not.' And he did.

I telephoned to the marina once again. They had a place! Eureka! Off we went. It was one of the nicest, friendliest Club Nauticos that we have visited. A bit of a walk to the town it nevertheless had most things we would want including a swimming pool that we never got round to trying. Typical us, don't you think! There was also a very popular restaurant where we enjoyed morning coffee and tostadas and wished we could have had time for lunch or dinner. We were told we could stay one night, managed to extend to two, but that was it.

Back in May we visited the town of Soller on Mallorca on the day they celebrated their annual fiesta, the battle between Moors and Christians. It was a fabulous day, everyone happy and it seemed such a fun occasion, a day for the local population, not for tourists, not orchestrated in the least. There were firecrackers being let off every few seconds it seemed and men with shotguns gaily letting off blank cartridges, often pinching the girls' straw hats and shooting a hole in the crown.

It was Moors and Christians week in Javea. And it was well and truly orchestrated. We arrived in time for the last two days. The major battles had been fought and won. On Sunday the Christians took over the 'castle' that had been set up by the port. The costumes that the principal characters wore were sumptuous, truly gorgeous. Incidentally, the main protagonists were older couples, not young dolly birds! The noise was horrendous. It was my misfortune to visit the supermarket as one of the final battles was being fought outside. Even inside the supermarket the noise of the firecrackers, the blank cartridges and the daytime fireworks was ear-splitting. Heading back to the marina I had to pass the main battle and then found the road was closed ahead of me, even for pedestrians. The battle had started in earnest. Fireworks were shooting into the sky above me and then falling uncomfortably close. The noise was deafening. I kept thinking, health and safety would never allow this. And was happy that the Spanish could ignoring such silly precautions. But still, I searched out a safe way home, through the back streets.

We had dinner with Hannah and her family and then next evening a barbecue at their villa. Back on board Ganymede that night we were comfortably settled when the expected fireworks started up. Now, you would think we had had enough of fireworks by now. But no. This time the main body of the spectacle was opposite our pontoon. It was stupendous. How they manage to think up so many different, new types of firework I cannot imagine. This display was mostly on the water, can you believe. Stunning. Come to Spain for your summer holiday if firework displays are your thing!!! Or battles between Moors and Christians!

But our two nights in the marina were soon over and since the anchorage was so awful and access to the town impossible we decided to head back to Moraira, quiet now after their week of fiesta. It was back to our old spot in the anchorage, back to asking in the marina office each day if it was okay for us to leave the dinghy... same old thing.

Charlie, Hannah and her family visited us and we did the unheard of: we went out for a sail. Not to go anywhere, just for the pleasure. We hadn't done that for a long while, if ever. We also visited the weekly street market but that was about it, other than the usual coffee, WiFi and supermarket.

On Friday, our last day, we had been out all morning and were heading back to Ganymede after a long lunch. As we got out of the marina I looked at Ganymede and said, 'Something's wrong. She's sinking!' Although in the town there was hardly a breath of wind and in the marina itself there was flat calm, a huge swell had got into the bay and we could barely see Ganymede over the 1-2m waves that were rolling in. Certainly, it was impossible to get on board, it would have been too dangerous. We headed back to the marina.

There was no way I was going to spend a night on board at anchor in those conditions so it was back to the marina office to see if we could get a place for the night. Not a chance was the first answer. Now, as it happens, there is a CCTV camera that can look out into the anchorage. 'Look!' I said, 'See what it is like. We can't stay there.' The woman in charge looked, was appalled and got on the radio... we had to be found a place. Eventually it was decided we could go on the waiting quay but we would have to wait for the sea to calm down before we could even think of moving. I was even considering abandoning her to her fate and finding a hotel for the night. By the time we were able to get back out to Ganymede, another, much smaller boat, had taken up residence on the waiting quay. Bother!!! Eventually a berth was found and we were safely tied up - but we had to leave by 9.00 am next day. Bliss - I love being at anchor, but the joy of being able to walk off the boat and into town is also not to be missed.

Next morning Charlie and Hannah joined us and we set sail, heading south yet again.