At anchor in Torrevieja harbour

28th June

We were at anchor in the harbour at Torrevieja. The sea wall is approximately a kilometre long. Inside, at a right angle to it and about halfway along, a new wall has been built and behind it a new marina, the Marina Salinas. Opposite this, on the shore side, is the International Marina, and next to that the Club Nautica so plenty of spaces for visiting boats. We had anchored on the other side of the new wall in what must be one of the safest, most comfortable anchorages on this part of the coast. At the entrance, coming out from the shore was a long jetty with what looked like a conveyor belt along it and a tall gantry.This, we realised, was where the salt boats come to load up. Torrevieja must be one of the most important salt centres in the Med.

One of our reasons for visiting Torrevieja was that we thought we may like to over-winter Ganymede there, if we stay in Spain as I would certainly like to do. We checked out all three marinas and decided that if we were to choose one of them it would be the Club Nautica since it was the cheapest, the nearest to town and seemed to have the best social facilities, that is, a good restaurant and club house.

On into town, it wasn't quite as bad as it looked. Again, from out at sea, it looked as though it was only apartment block after large apartment block after large apartment block. Again, once ashore, the bars and restaurants, the shops, the trees, all provided colour and shade, and there was a lively atmosphere with people enjoying a morning drink, shopping or simply spending time with friends. BUT: no WiFi to be found anywhere. Oh dear, this was not good news.

We spent the morning in town and then had lunch at one of the restaurants in the marina before heading back to Ganymede. The anchorage, almost empty when we left, was now filled with day boats, not quite as tightly packed at the apartment blocks... but getting close. A perfect summer afternoon spent on the water, swimming, sunbathing, relaxing with friends, away from the intense heat of the town. (Daytime temperatures are now generally in the low to mid 30s.)

In the evening we visited the three bars in the new marina and it was only in the last one that I found a wine that was drinkable. So, wine and tapas for dinner.

Next morning we watched as a large boat slowly entered the anchorage and slowly, slowly and carefully, tied up to the jetty. But we didn't wait to watch the salt being loaded on: Tony was on a mission, to get as far south as possible before I persuaded him to turn back and wait for Charlie.

Once again, the anchor was up and we were sailing off down the coast.

Isla de Tabarca

27th June

We left San Juan next morning. I didn't want to go, not really. I'd enjoyed it there, it had everything I need: a Club Nautico with a good restaurant, a WiFi connection and a Mercadona. Also, Charlie was coming to Spain in July and there was a possibility we would meet up. However, when I got the details it turned out that he was going to be near Moraira and not for almost three more weeks. A long time to be hanging around.

Our main reason for leaving: a swell had come in during the night and Ganymede had tossed this way and that, hour after hour after hour. So yes, we had to go!

The wind was again in the north east and again just enough to give us a good sail. Down the coast we went, past the never-ending rows of densely-packed high rises. There is a small island off Puerto Santa Pola, en route to Torrevieja. It has an interesting history, having been once a pirate base and then a garrison for the Spanish army. The island of Tabarca. Story has it that it is so-named because the first permanent residents were Genovese mercenaries rescued from the Tunisian island of Tabarka. We decided to make a detour and stop for lunch.

The most amazing thing about Tabarca is how there ever came to be a settlement there in the first place. At its highest point it is no more than 15 metres above sea-level.The island is in two parts with a 'waist' in the middle that provides the tiny harbour and two anchorages, one on either side. Next strange thing, or so it seemed to me: all of the dwellings are on one half of the island, the other half contains the remains of an old fort and a lighthouse, nothing else.

Our first impression on going ashore was that here was an island that was experiencing a tourist boom. There were cafeterias and restaurants all round the small harbour and the beach. Tourist boats come in from Puerto Santa Pola and Torrevieja: there is only enough space in the harbour for one of the boats at a time so they go in, drop their passengers and then go out and wait on a mooring buoy until it is time to go in and collect them for the homeward journey. We had anchored on the harbour side of the island. Across the way, people were sunbathing on the beach, boats were at anchor enjoying the sunshine... and suffering the swell. From a boating point of view, it wasn't the best day to be on Tabarca.

We wandered into the town. There were buildings being refurbished on all sides. The church had scaffolding round it... but no evidence of people working. There are no cars on the island: little diggers and forklift trucks seemed to be the only motorised vehicles and were being put to good use transporting building materials around. As we passed a door with a large H on the side, signifying Hotel?, it opened. The inside (I couldn't resist a peek) looked sumptuous. If it was, indeed, a hotel, I want to stay there some day. And so to the next surprising thing about Tabarca. In the town, on the whole island, none of the roads are paved, they are all just dirt tracks. There are some signs that that is going to change.

We reached the town square. There was a restaurant, of course. The temptation was too great. The menú del diá was €12: salad, calamares and sardines, paella, dessert and drinks. In we went. Did I say before that I am on a diet? Well, reading the menu, and knowing that I ate it all (no, I skipped desert...), you won't be surprised that I have difficulty losing weight and that when I do it soon finds me again. I could have stopped after the calamares and sardines. I could have... It was so good. And healthy, all those salad vegetables and fish. The paella was good too. Not as good as the one I shared with Gill in Formentera, but passable.

A wander round the rest of the island took us to the sea wall, undergoing necessary repairs. It must have been a massive project when it was first undertaken: could it have been those rescued Genovese mercenaries who were given the task? Round the town, through the dusty streets, finding shade where we could, maybe even regretting, just a little, that we had eaten so much, maybe... And then we crossed the beach and on to the other half of the island, past little coves with rock pools and water splashing the shore, on by way of a little path towards the lighthouse, fenced off, so on round to the old fort. Lots of small flowers in bloom, miniatures of plants that, in a more friendly environment, would be quite large. I did mean to look them up in my book when I got back. Perhaps I did and couldn't find them. I never can.

On our way back to Ganymede I noticed the menús in the various cafeterias that we passed. They were all €12: salad, calamares and sardines, paella, dessert and drinks. Hmmm...

Back on Ganymede, we were soon on our way again, the wind still with us. A couple of hours gentle sail took us to Torrevieja where we dropped anchor inside the harbour and prepared to stay a couple of days.

Puerto de San Juán

25th-26th June

In the morning Tony suggested we move to Calpe, at the other end of the bay, where the apartment blocks are... his reason, there is possibly a rail connection there that will take us to Valencia. I had planned to make that walk, up to the watch tower, but never mind.

Up came the anchor and off we motored. And then the sails came out. There was wind from the north east, blowing us gently down the coast. The sun was shining. It was a glorious day.

As we approached Calpe we got a better look at the apartment blocks. They were densely packed, almost on the seashore it seemed. Amazing. We couldn't imagine who would want to live there. But then, the view out to sea and round the bay, changing with the weather, with the seasons, one would never tire of it. And just because I hate apartment living...

The wind was stronger than we had anticipated, we were enjoying the sail, and the anchorage didn't look good: the wind was in the wrong direction so it didn't offer any shelter. So... we decided to carry on to Benidorm. There wasn't much of an anchorage there, we knew. In fact, it was a case of drop the anchor where convenient off the beach, but we decided to give it a try.

As we sailed peacefully along the coast we saw row upon row of high rise buildings, hugging the shoreline. It was difficult to see through the haze but we thought no, we'll give Benidorm a miss, better to continue while the wind is so perfect. And there was sure to be a rail connection between Alicante and Valencia. We were alone on the sea, or so it seemed, not another boat in sight.

We chose to anchor off the Club Nautica harbour at Puerto de San Juan, a suburb of Alicante. It is another of those anchorages that are snooked in behind a headland. I love them!!! But this one wasn't as 'snooked' as I would have liked. In some ways it felt like a large, open bay. I wasn't impressed. Also, all along the coast, squeezed between sea and hill, were apartment blocks. Huge apartment blocks. This did not look good. Huffily, I went up front to drop the anchor. I wasn't happy.

Almost as soon as Ganymede was shipshape and we were sure the anchor was holding we headed ashore. Fast work for us - it can take us a whole day to do that! As it turned out, in spite of all the buildings, the town was quite green: trees, a park, gardens round most of the apartment blocks. There were several small beaches, all of them popular with locals, there didn't seem to be any tourists around. One thing that seemed to be missing was a town centre, or any signs that might lead us to it. We walked. Eventually we found a Mercadona: one of my favourite supermarkets. But not much else. We stopped for a drink, it was hot work walking along, not always able to find shade. And I was carrying my laptop, hoping for a WiFi café. Drink, Mercadona and then we headed back to Ganymede by a different route... and I soon spotted someone sitting at a café working away on his computer. Ah Ha!
We stopped, I got my laptop out and we had another drink. And an hour soon passed. Definitely time to get back to Ganymede.

In this part of Spain they celebrate the feast of Sant Joán with bonfires on the beach and fireworks. I forgot to mention that they had celebrated in Moraira on Monday night with a bonfire, fireworks and disco. In Puerto de San Juan the kids were celebrating with firecrackers. Every few minutes, it seemed, there was a bang. That night, just as we had got to sleep, there was a big firework display in Alicante. Tony got up to watch. I was too deeply asleep.

Next day was more of the usual routine: ashore early for café con leche and then into town for some shopping. This time we stopped at the Club Nautico bar and discovered... they had WiFi. What a perfect day this was turning out to be. We both caught up on emails, blogs, websites, we Skyped Charlie... and then Tony was able to take the laptops back to Ganymede before we set off into town. This was almost as good as having WiFi on board. AND, after shopping... as usual, some wonderful prawns from Mercadona... lunch at the Club Nautico. What could be better. I was beginning to think I liked Puerto de San Juan.

Did you notice the date at the top of this blog? Today was our second day in Puerto de San Juan: 25th June - the semi-final of the UEFA cup: Spain v Russia. We heard every goal, knew the moment it was all over and Spain had won: the roar, the cheers, and then the fireworks going off all over town. It was stupendous. And later, before I was asleep this time, a huge firework display over Alicante. Spectacular! But was it for Sant Joán or was it for the football?

Puerto de San Juán

Moraira, Spanish Mainland

22nd-24rd June


Our entry point on the Spanish mainland was Moraira, a small coastal town approximately midway between Valencia and Alicante and a distance of 55 nautical miles from Ibiza. While we were in the Aegean such a distance was normal and the average passage, now we think about it a bit more, think we have a hard day in front of us. In other words, we've grown soft.

It was mid-afternoon when we arrived, Sunday, so the anchorage was busy with day boats and we had to look around a bit, find a suitable spot. And then, anchor down, we sat some more, and watched some more, relaxed.

The first thing we noticed was that none of the other boats seemed to have tenders with them. The next thing we noticed was that the beach was completely roped off: small boats were obviously not allowed. Hmmm. There was always the marina, it was just as close as the beach, so we could always get into town. But we didn't venture off the boat immediately... tomorrow is always another day, plenty of time.

As we were coming into the anchorage I noticed in the far distance, at the other end of the bay near Calpe, some strange outlines. They were difficult to make out through the haze of a hot summer afternoon: very strange rock formations? buildings?

Moraira is one of those lovely anchorages that are snooked round the back of a headland. I love them, they provide lots of shelter from most winds. It is surrounded by low hills, hills that now have villas dotted all over them. But there is still a lot of empty space, lots of country walks to be had. There is a walk to an old watch tower and I hoped we would have time to do it. We didn't. Maybe next time.

The 'rock' formations, when we finally got a clear view, were apartment buildings, closely grouped together, all different shapes and sizes but mostly, it seemed, tall and thin.

We stayed two days in Moraira. It is an attractive town, lots of bars and restaurants on the front, of course, and then winding streets and peaceful plazas. We followed signs to the tourist office: caught out again, we had followed the road signs and were led three sides round a large square. But we would never have found it 'by accident' and there were no pedestrian signs. We picked up some maps and some brochures, thought we would visit Teulada, the next town. Of course, we didn't! Next time? I also want to visit Valencia, I would love to see the new building they constructed for the Americas Cup: the one that didn't win the Stirling Prize last year. Not from Moraira!

Leaving Ibiza

22nd and 23rd June

We left early. Tony assured me the wind would be good and we had the sails out almost before we were out of the anchorage. There was not a drop of wind, nothing, the sea was like a sheet of glass. My plan was to sit and catch up with my blogs, as I had done on the passage from Mallorca to Ibiza so I was happy. I got out the computer, got myself settled in the cockpit, opened the computer and... couldn't see a thing. Even at this hour the sun was much too strong. End of plan one.

Slowly, the wind started to blow. Gently at first, then gathering strength; we were soon able to switch off the engine and let the sails take over. It was a fantastic sail, the wind blew all day. Tony decided to get the staysail out. 'Why?', I asked. 'Just to give it an airing.,' he shrugged. So we hauled it out and zoomed along on full possible sail for three for four hours. It gave us, maybe, an extra half knot of speed. It all counts, I suppose. Then Tony unexpectedly suggested we get the staysail in. Uh? 'I suppose,if you want.' Hmmm... the wind was a bit stronger than before. 'I think we'll just reef the genoa.' said Tony. Uh?...'If you insist'. I don't always agree to reefing early but we were enjoying such a peaceful sail, why risk spoiling it by having too much sail up. In fact, we didn't lose speed to begin with as the wind was strengthening all the time but, as always, the wind eventually dropped. We were so close, was it worth pulling the sail out again, we'd be there in next to no time. It was and we did. An hour later we were there, engine on, sails in, anchor ready.

How do we pass the time when we are on passage? Well, for me, I go below decks as little as possible. I get seasick and below deck is often a bad idea. So I sit in the cockpit and I read, I watch the horizon, I daydream, and I doze. That's about it. Occasionally a sail needs changing, occasionally I need to pull a rope... or press the button that works the electric winch. The autopilot is almost always on so there isn't even any need to take the helm. In fine weather I usually manage to go below to prepare food but as soon as there is any sea running Tony has to fend for himself. As for Tony, he potters around, spends time at the chart table, does some computing, generally keeps busy. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to make a really long passage. We have made three and four day passages and I always feel we are just getting into a routine when we arrive at our destination. So I wonder what a longer passage must be like, what it would be like crossing the Atlantic, for example, the wind behind us, those great rollers pushing us along. But it isn't going to happen.

Last day in Ibiza

20th-21st June

Next morning was so quiet. No Alistair. no Gill, and most of all, no Eva. I had decided that we would make it a 'special' day: catch up with internet, go into Ibiza town and finally, dinner out.

Of course, the day started late and it was nearly lunchtime when we got into town. No matter, we combined a sandwich lunch with some wifi and then it was time for a stroll round town. We had wandered around the lower town with Eva, now it was time to hit the steps and head for the cathedral. Again, we were amazed by how attractive Ibiza town is... in fact, the whole island (or what we saw of it) was surprising, well-run, attractive, plenty to do and see. It certainly is a far cry from the reputation of night clubs and rowdy crowds.

We wandered slowly up the hill, winding through narrow streets, looking in shop windows, enjoying an ice-cream. The cathedral and battlements look over the town and the sea, dominating the landscape in much the same way that the cathedral is the first building the seafarer can distinguish as he approaches Palma. We couldn't go in... we keep forgetting siesta time and the cathedral was closed when we got there. However, we were quite content, investigating the battlements, looking out on to the town, to the sea, picking out Cala Talamanca, where Ganymede was at anchor, looking in the other direction towards Formentera. In days gone by it must have been an excellent spot to keep watch for potential invaders. But did it keep them out, I wonder?

That night we dined overlooking the beach. Paella. Tony, having listened to me rave about paella for days, decided that's what he would like. Of course, it needs two people to order so I had to join him. It wasn't as good! But okay... perhaps we will have to become paella connoisseurs?

Next day it was time to move on: a night in Puerto de Roig which Tony wanted to visit, for some reason. So our last night on Ibiza was spent at anchor in an almost deserted bay, tumbledown fishing huts on the shore, houses on top of the cliff, precariously balanced - a recent landfall had brought the edge of the cliff dangerously close, or so it appeared. We suspected some fishermen's huts had been buried in the fall. A steep road led up from the beach to we know not what. It was another of those occasions when we were content to sit in the cockpit and watch.

Early next morning we set sail for the mainland.