Home Alone.

Be warned – this is very long and has few pictures.  You may wish to make a cup of tea or wait ‘til you’re having difficulty sleeping one night!

Yes, he abandoned me!  I mean, I know I can be a bit tricky to live with at times but that is largely down to my age and hormones.  I have finally realised that one of the few bonuses of being female is the option to blame your hormones for your bad behaviour and/or ill humour at virtually any stage in life that you happen to be.  Not only does the slightest hint of any girly complaint cause everyone to clam up or quickly start talking about something else, but in addition, it leaves you completely innocent and in no way responsible for anything you may chose to do or say!! 

Evidence that Duncan does occasionally swim!

Anyway, I haven’t been sufficiently grumpy, (in my opinion,) for him to high tail off back to UK.  That said, it was probably no bad thing as the sun and heat were obviously starting to get to him.  Despite our chosen lifestyle and location, Duncan is not really a huge fan of very hot weather and tends to retreat inside or find any possible segment of shade.  In addition, notwithstanding the 1000 odd logged dives he can now boast, he doesn’t often feel moved to go for a swim.  This being the case, you will understand my concern one day when he suddenly leapt into the sea whilst I was solemnly circuiting the boat and tender.   However, he probably only stayed in the water 5 minutes or so before clambering out again.  Fair enough.  The next morning though, he leapt out of bed, donned his swimming trunks and was plunged into the sea before I had barely surfaced.  Unheard of!  I hastened to join him, lest he should suddenly need medical assistance but shortly after I dived in he was clambering back out and I started to feel reassured.  Consider then, my alarm, when he suddenly bombed back, almost on top of me, from the great height of the pulpit.  Without a shadow of a doubt it was time for Duncan to return to a more temperate climate and recover his equilibrium.   In addition, I had the comforting knowledge that the purpose of his trip was to be poked and prodded by a medic in order to establish what, if any, lasting damage he had incurred as a result of his 30+ years unswerving loyalty and service to Her Majesty. 

After his previous abortive attempt to get home for his medical, we decided that he should allow a greater time margin for contingencies, (ie Ash Clouds) so he set off by bus for Palma and the airport on Friday 18^th, his appointment not being until the following Monday.  He set off with an empty bag, a long shopping list and a light heart, knowing that the weather forecast predicted flat calm and his beloved wife should be able to survive a few nights without him there to hold her hand.

Now most of you will know that it is not something new for us to spend time apart.  Indeed, this is an integral part of life with HM Forces so it wasn’t loneliness, per se, that might potentially cause problems.  What you have to understand is that dealing with things mechanical, electrical or in any way technical does not come naturally to me.  One morning a week or so earlier Duncan had gone ashore to buy bread for breakfast and was alarmed, on his return, to see that the engine was running at full throttle in reverse, straining at the anchor.  I had been feeling very proud of myself for thinking to turn on the engine in order to charge up the batteries and generate some hot water for showers while he was gone.  I thought he’d be most impressed.  I just failed to take the engine out of gear, a simple mistake…  Thankfully, all I had succeeded in doing was bedding in the anchor extremely effectively so no harm done.  He came below to discover that I had gone to the trouble of ironing an outfit for our planned day ashore.  As I have mentioned previously, I am not a fan of ironing but occasionally it does lend a certain sartorial elegance.  What I hadn’t appreciated was that an iron is not something that should be run from a twelve volt battery, not even with an inverter.  Ah well, got away with it thankfully without frying the battery or the inverter and now have a cast-iron (forgive the pun) excuse for the crumpled look for the remainder of the summer or until such time as we once again have 240v shore power.  On another occasion he gave me the camera memory card to put into the laptop in order to download some photos.  “It will only go in one way,” he says.  Not true.  It fits perfectly when inserted sideways.  Indeed it is a very snug fit and not terribly easy to remove again… (Oh God, it took me about ½ an hour with 2 sail needles to extract! Skipper)

So you will understand that he probably had one or two concerns about leaving me for 4½ days in sole charge of his beloved sailing boat – and even if he didn’t, I certainly did!

We had studied the GRIB files (weather forecasts) before he left and were reassured to see that sunshine and light winds were predicted for the coming week.  This being the case, together with the knowledge that Porto Colom is probably the most protected harbour on Mallorca with excellent holding, I had elected to remain at anchor, rather than retreat to a mooring buoy or marina for the duration of his absence.  This wasn’t sheer Swallows and Amazons type bravado – it also saved us quite a lot of money as we knew his trip home would inevitably mean spending outside our normal budget.

So I waved him off, bought a piece of fish for my supper and returned to Rampage feeling slightly smug.  I had arranged with Naomi that we would have a Skype phone call the following morning (Saturday) when the children were around so that I could have a chat with them.  As a result I stayed aboard all morning.  Duncan, bless him, had left me a little project while he was gone.  I was to plan our route from Mallorca to Rome working out distances and timings to ensure that we arrived there in good time to fly home to UK for Polly and Tommy’s wedding in August.  Thus, armed with a pair of dividers, I spent the morning pouring over 4 charts, three pilot books and various sets of notes from fellow cruisers, busy making copious notes of my own.  I was so engrossed that I failed to notice the dark clouds gathering and my first indication that all was not well was a flash of lightening, followed by a rumble of thunder.  Oh bother, I thought, or words to that effect.  This was not what I had been led to expect, and summoning a new GRIB file, I found that the picture had changed somewhat.  I decided I had better go ashore and stock up with provisions before it got any later and the shops closed and the weather worsened. 

A salutory warning that things do sometimes go very wrong - even in Porto Colom!

On my return I decided I had better take the outboard off the dingy as I had no wish for it to drown if the dingy turned turtle in the wind.  Did I mention the wind?  Yes there was some – quite a bit really!  Manoeuvring with the outboard is not that easy.  I knew what to do in theory but had always looked on appreciatively whilst the boss did the heavy work.  Now it was down to me.  I found that lifting it off the back of the dingy was actually the most awkward bit because I had to do it whilst sitting on the bottom of the dingy to avoid falling in myself or dropping the motor into the somewhat lumpy sea.  Having secured the outboard on board and checked that headsail was not going to come unfurled in a hurry, I then retreated down below for warmer clothes and lunch.  I spent the afternoon and evening hunkered down, listening to the wind.  This was emphasised by another boat anchored close by with a wind generator.  For those of you who have not encountered one of these, suffice to say, they are noisy.  The windier it is, the noisier they become.

The anchorage was pretty crowded as obviously quite a number of people had sought refuge.  As I was preparing for bed, I was concerned to see that another boat had appeared and anchored very close off our stern.  I slept fitfully, making silent petitions to heaven that the anchor would hold and planning how I should cope if it didn’t.  About 4am I was woken by a lot of noise from our stern and peered out of the cabin hatch.  The boat from the previous evening seemed to be trying to climb into our cockpit.   There was someone on the bow deck so I called out and asked if they were moving.  “We’re letting out more anchor chain, to pull away from you a bit,” I was told.  They still seemed very close to me so I decided to go and take in a few meters of our chain and pull further forward away from them.  Taking in anchor chain is probably not the favoured course of action when faced with strong winds but I could think of no better alternative and I knew that we tended to let out more rather than less and therefore was likely to be OK doing this.  And so I was.  We held on about 15 metres of chain for the remaining week that we were in Porto Colom but this didn’t stop me worrying for the remainder of the night and much of the next day, until the winds dropped. 

Then as suddenly as they had appeared, the grey clouds vanished, the sun came out and by late Sunday afternoon, I was able to abandon my sweatshirt and warm clothes and go for a swim. 

Looking towards the harbour entrance in Porto Colom from the old town. The small fishing boat on the left is called Lluc, pronounced (we believe) Yuk. Seems a little harsh.

On Monday I decided I really must deal with the accumulated dirty laundry.  We had identified a service laundry up round the headland from the main town of Porto Colom, in a rather down-at-heel tourist development that may have seen better times.  Largely deserted, grass and weeds poking through cracks in concrete and pavement, with uninspiring cafes offering English breakfasts and Sky Sports, it is possibly what led our friends Nicky and Paul to describe Porto Colom as “grim!”  I was amused when I first spotted this in the notes on Mallorca that they gave us, because we had decided we rather liked the place.  It’s quiet but attractive with several nice restaurants, all the shops we needed and some pleasant walks around.  Anyway the bit by the laundry is certainly rather grim and it is also a considerable hike from where we were anchored, right at the far side of the fairly large harbour.  I shoved one load of washing into our glamorous, wheel-along shopping trolley and balanced the second precariously on top and staggered up the hill away from the water front, only spilling it all once, when a large German Shepherd suddenly woofed at me unseen from behind a hedge.

I spent the rest of the time before D’s return scrubbing the decks, cleaning inside, shopping and continuing to plan our route.  Well OK, I did manage to fit in a bit of sunbathing and the occasional swim and my thanks to all those who helped to keep my spirits up by phoning to chat while I coped with my solitary ordeal.

J looking smug after a busy morning bottom cleaning.

D returned in good order, laden with bits and pieces including a new GPS antenna for the chart plotter which he fitted the next day (Wednesday.)  To our delight and relief it has resolved the problem.  I kept out of his way while he did this by donning my scuba gear and finishing off the work I’d started on cleaning the hull.  I am proud to report that we now have probably one of the cleanest bottoms in this part of the Mediterranean!

On Thursday we finally left Porto Colom and sailed (well motored actually – there being no wind,) to Ciudadela on Menorca.  We had not realised until we arrived that we had just missed seeing a horse race through the narrow, twisty streets.  This takes place annually as part of their fiesta in honour of St Joan, the local patron saint.  Nevertheless the town was in party mood and all shops firmly shut which was a bit of a blow as we had just about run out of fresh food by Friday.  Thankfully we found a little Spar shop open which was able to tide us over and we were lucky enough to be in prime position to watch a most spectacular firework display that evening which took place right next to the bay where we are currently anchored.

Looking down on the harbour at Ciudadela

Yesterday morning Duncan patiently accompanied me to a short organ recital in the cathedral.  The organ recital was fairly mediocre.  Indeed I had my misgivings when it started with Bach’s “Tocata and Fugue” but I thought the cathedral was rather nice – light coloured stone, clean, simple lines and some attractive stained glass.  Preferred it in fact to the much-praised cathedrals of Palma and Barcelona!  Afterwards we walked a long way in the heat of the day to find a decent supermarket before staggering back to Rampage to relax – me in the sun, the boss below in the shade!  Sadly, I am cautious of swimming here having been stung on Friday by one of the many small jellyfish about in the water.  Duncan of course has steered well clear of such rash behaviour.

Today we set off round the north coast which has numerous small bays.  As the GRIB files are predicting flat calm for most of the coming week we shall probably have strong northerlies and all sorts of problems but you will have to wait for our next exciting instalment in order to find out!

Since writing this blog on Sunday, several days have elapsed, during which time we have had no internet connection, so our apologies for the delay.  We left Ciudadela that day and moved to Cala Algayerens on the north coast.  Nothing there but a couple of beaches.  Very beautiful bay where D was moved, yet again, to go for a swim!  After a couple of nights there, we moved on yesterday to Addaya, which again, is very attractive.  It seems to be entirely populated by British people but at least there is a very decent little shop here where we can restock on provisions.  Only drawback is that there’s a considerable climb up the hill to get there!  However, we must face it before the day gets any hotter.  NB the wind is still almost non-existent but threatens to get very exciting just about the time we had hoped to set off on the 180 odd mile trip to Sardinia.  Such is life.

Our current anchorage at Addaya

Sailing Round the Islands

It’s the end of another week and time to do the blog thingy again so as to keep the jealousy quotient high amongst our readers.  Actually, this week has been not been all that enjoyable and not terribly successful in terms of seeing our plans come together.  I suppose that, eventually, there have to be some slight imperfections in our otherwise idyllic lifestyle, otherwise we’d loose touch with reality altogether….

First off, the GPS antenna has died on us, meaning that the automatic navigation systems on the boat no longer know where the hell we are.  This has meant a reversion to pencil, dividers, rulers and paper charts to navigate through these waters without meeting any lumps of the bottom with the bottom of ‘Rampage’.  So far, we’ve managed it no trouble at all and, in fact, are quite enjoying the business of actually thinking about the problems of fixing our position with a compass rather than a box of electronics.  However, the replacements are on order and will, hopefully, be waiting for me in UK when I get there in about a week from now.

We left you in limbo with the last post, not having told you about the trip from San Antonio to Formentera and then on to Portinatx.  You will know that San Antonio is the club capital of Ibiza but actually a very protected harbour and one that a deaf block like myself would be happy to revisit.  J however, will not be coming with me as she didn’t like the drum and base etc, which frankly didn’t bother me much.  We left there bright and early as we woke bright and early and there didn’t seem much point in trying to get back to sleep – I mean, the log shows us having left at 0850 for crying out loud, which must have seen us up and about an hour before that.

We sailed most of the way down to Formentera with a lovely easterly breeze.  Although the shortest distance between the 2 anchorages was about 32 miles, we actually did 45 miles as we had to tack into the wind to make ground to the island.  But the weather was great, the wind just enough to make 5 – 6 knots and it was all for free – no diesel!  We found a little anchorage in the lee of some cliffs that gave us a comfortable night before we woke even brighter and earlier than the day before – a helicopter had come to visit with a large Maltese super yacht anchored next us!  The log book on this occasion shows we left at 0715!

We were lucky again with the wind, catching a great little easterly that let us tack up to the passage between Ibiza and Formentera before we put the engine on to make the transit.  This was to let us play dodgem cars with the never ending stream of ferries, fast, slow and in between, that ply between the 2 islands.  Quite exciting.  The wind then let us sail up beyond Ibiza town before disappearing mid afternoon, leaving us to finish the trip on the motor.  Given the south easterly swell that was running, we decided not to return to Cala San Vincente and went round the headland to Portinatx, from where the last blog was uploaded.

Seas breaking on Isla El Toro, Mallorca

We couldn’t hang about the following day, as we’d requested permission to visit the Cabrera Island group, a nature reserve about 5 miles south of Mallorca.  Our permits were due to be waiting for us with the dive centre in Santa Ponca but we’d need to get back a day before we were due to go to the reserve to make sure everything was OK.  So we left Portinatx at 0720 for the crossing to Mallorca.  We had what can only be described as a classic crossing; the wind set from the east as we left Ibiza and stayed there all the way across.  We took just on 10 hours to make the crossing, covering 56 miles and did it all on the sails.  Brilliant.   Oh, and we didn’t get lost without the chart plotter!

From that point onwards, things have been heading steadily downhill.  Despite several visits with the incredibly helpful dive centre, our permits had been lost in the system so we didn’t get to visit the reserve.  However, we did get some laundry done, refueled the boat, filled her water tanks and did an enormous food shop (anticipating 4 days away from any shops) and generally caught up on admin after 3 days continuous sailing.

This is what happens to the soap if you don't put the lid down when the swell makes the boat roll.

To complete our joy, the wind had shifted to the west and was pushing a rising swell into the bay at Santa Ponsa.  However, the local wind wasn’t in the same direction as the swell, so we spent a lot of time sitting across the swell, which makes the boat rock most uncomfortably.  It was like being in the Bristol Channel again, with anything not properly stowed leaping about the place with gay abandon.  I slept in the passage berth, leaving J the bed as we’d have spent the night being dumped on top of one another as ‘Rampage’ rolled like a stuck pig.  Not surprisingly, we left fairly early the next day after a bad night and set off for points east.  Our plan was to find a sheltered anchorage just round the southern tip of the island.  Once we got the sails up, the motion settled down and we had a good sail until the wind disappeared about midday.  It reappeared mid afternoon and we rounded Cabo Salina at about 5pm.  It was obvious as we came round the point that the idea of a small anchorage wasn’t going to work, as the swell was bending round the headland and raising breakers on the shoreline, so we opted for Porto Colom, about 12 miles up the coast but protected.  We arrived here just before 8pm and dropped anchor.

J's latest knitting output - orders now being taken for Christmas delivery.

Yesterday was spent doing nothing but catching our breath after a very busy few days.  We didn’t even go ashore, just sat and chilled, read books, did some internet shopping and J knitted Jessie some dolls clothes.  And there you have it.  Two slightly knackered sailors who are just getting their breath back after a very busy week or so.  My resident statistician tells me we did 197 nautical miles in 4 days of sailing and most of that under sail, so we’ve every reason to be feeling a bit tired!

Finally, I’ve just heard from my friend Pete Barry that he’s bought himself a boat.  For years Pete has been saying that he was never going to buy one of these flash, fast motor boats.  No, he was going to have a sensible little thing with a ‘donkey diesel’ to mess about in and teach his kids about the sea.  The picture below is Pete’s take on a ‘sensible little thing’ – hope you enjoy it mate!

Pete's sensible little boat with a donkey diesel........

Note that there aren’t many pictures this time, as we ran out of batteries and there wasn’t that much to photograph.

Clubbing In Ibiza

Well, seeing as the boss wrote the last blog, I’ve managed to get first dibs in on this one. I’ve looked back over the last entry and we left you in Ensenada Rapita, on the southern tip of Mallorca. As I write this, we’re anchored in the heart of Club Land Ibiza, San Antonio. Although ‘Rampage’ is about ¼ mile offshore, you’ll be delighted to know that the benefit of the many discos and shows dotted round the bay still reaches out to embrace us! Thus, we can be said to be Clubbing In Ibiza, although it’s the last thing on our minds.

We got here by way of Santa Ponca in Mallorca and various anchorages round the north of the island of Ibiza. Hmmm.. that’s a bit short on detail, so perhaps I’d better go back a bit and let you know what we’ve been up to over the last 10 days or so.

Sunset in Santa Ponca

The trip from Ensenada Rapita to Santa Ponca was brilliant. After a good night’s sleep, we managed to get away fairly early and motored for about an hour before we got a cracking wind right across Palma Bay, making 5 – 6 knots all the way across to round the headland into the bay at Santa Ponsa by late afternoon. By 5 o’clock we were all tucked up in the anchorage and ready to face going ashore to explore the town. Bit of a let-down really, the place is aimed at the mid market tourists and families but not too bad and not crowded at all. J had her eyebrows done whilst I enjoyed a quiet coffee before we beat a retreat to ‘Rampage’.

The following day was expedition day. A new anode for the propeller was required and the only place to stock them in the Islands was in Palma. J also wanted to look at the cathedral and, if possible, get permission from the National Parks Authority to visit the Cabrera Islands. It all sounded so do-able as we talked it through at breakfast. In the end, we managed to get to Palma, only to find the National Park office had been moved but we did manage to get the anode and J got to look at her cathedral. However, neither of us was terribly impressed with Palma, a somewhat disturbing mixture of old and very brash new that we didn’t really take to. We did however, have a delicious lunch whilst there!

The following day, I had an exciting time replacing the variable pitch propeller, along with its new anode. The thing required a large nut and 2 allen screws to fix it in to place. Dead easy if the boat’s out of the water but quite tricky underwater. Any item dropped has to picked up from the sea bed and it’s not always easy to spot things……

The headland leaving Santa Ponca

The next day was earmarked for admin (read – first laundry run for 2 ½ weeks – poo gosh stink!) and shopping. The local marina had told us to go ahead and use their facilities, so we took them over for most of the day. Whilst J was enjoying herself drinking Coke whilst waiting for the washing, I took our dive tanks to be refilled at the dive centre in the marina. When we picked them up later, they very kindly helped us to fill in the forms for Cabrera and faxed them off for us! On the strength of this, we booked a dive with them for the Sunday (the following day,) despite an alarmingly early start time of 9 o’clock!

Our dive the following day was great, a wall dive off the island of Dragonera on the south western tip of Mallorca. There was lots to look at including a number of quite large fish along with clouds of smaller ones, although not as colourful as the Red Sea. It was also quite fun to realise that it is possible to move through the water at speeds greater than 6 knots. As J commented, if we’d gone on ‘Rampage’ we’d have taken all day to get there as opposed to about 30 minutes.

We had planned to move on to Ibiza the following day but after a late wake up we decided to move the following day instead. After a lazy day, we awoke early(ish) the next morning, hoisted the anchor and went into the marina to refill with water before leaving for Ibiza. The trip was mostly done under motor, as there was too little wind. The trip is about 45 miles and we were never out of sight of land – Ibiza emerging from the gloom well before we lost sight of Mallorca.

Our anchorage that night was in San Vicente, a cala not unlike its Mallorcan namesake, fairly step sided, with a tourist development at the head of the inlet. We had a good night’s rest and found a couple of little shops the following morning that sold bread and other essentials.

The anchorage at San Vicente. "Rampage" 2nd from the right.

On our way to shore later that afternoon, we were hailed by another Brit who’d just arrived; he’d caught a tuna on his crossing from Mallorca, didn’t have a proper fridge and offered us a large chunk to stop it going to waste! Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, the tuna was rapidly accepted, a chunk carved off on the stern and put into the fridge. J and I then had a very pleasant tramp up to the top of one of the headlands overlooking the cala before repairing on board for the most enormous tuna steaks with beans and bread – absolute heaven, as the tuna couldn’t have been much fresher.

That evening, we had texted Lucy (our daughter-in-law) to wish her happy birthday and she’d told us that her sister Emily was on the island, so we called Emily to see if we could meet up. We exchanged messages but didn’t fix anything before we went to bed. After a bad night, caught in a cross swell from the south east, we got up early (7 o’clock!), hoisted the anchor and motored round to Portinatx, about 8 miles away but north facing and out of the swell. Emily had said she was planning on visiting the north coast that day, so I got in touch and told her to give us a call when they got to the cala.

Lucy's sister, Emily

We arrived there by about 9 o’clock and went straight back to bed, having had very little sleep during the night. We were woken by Emily’s text, letting us know they were leaving their villa, so I had time to get ashore and stock up on the vitals (beer) before they arrived. We had a great time, as Emily was in a party of 8, 6 of whom came to visit ‘Rampage’ at one point or another that afternoon. J and I did little else that day after our guests had left, as we were still a little jaded from the night before, (not to mention a fair amount of beer on an empty tum – we never really had lunch that day!)

Portinatx where we met Emily & friends and where we are anchored again this evening.

Our next move was the following day and brought us to San Antonio, where we are still, although we did stop off at Rabbit Island (Isla Conejera,) a nature reserve, for lunch and a swim before finishing the trip. San Antonio is apparently the centre of ‘club culture’ in Ibiza and judging by the noise and light shows I wouldn’t dispute it! Our daughters think it’s hilarious that we’re here. Other than that, as an anchorage it’s very protected and roomy, although not as pretty as many places we’ve been to.

J at one of the gates into the fortress above Ibiza town

Our bus trip to Ibiza town today was one of those things you have to do. We couldn’t really not go, as to say we’ve been to the island but not the town isn’t really on. However, apart from the fortress and the old city between the walls and the harbour, Ibiza town has even less to recommend it than Palma.

Ibiza old town

Looking up towards the cathedral in Ibiza old town

Duncan always stops to talk to any cats; he still misses Nutcase.

We’re now back on ‘Rampage’ having had supper and thinking about bed. Tomorrow we move to Formentera, a small island just south of Ibiza.

Looking across to Formentera from the fortress in Ibiza

Post Script: Our apologies if this seems a little out of date – we were unable to post it due to lack of mobile coverage until now. We had one night anchored off Formentera and today sailed back to Portinatx in northern Ibiza. Negotiating the islands between Formentera and Ibiza was made more interesting as we dodged several very large and fast moving ferries between the two islands. We’ve managed to find enough fresh food & water for sale here this evening to take us through ‘til Wednesday as tomorrow will be spent making the passage back to Santa Ponca in SW Mallorca.

The Mate has her say for a change!

I’ve decided it’s high time I made a contribution to the blog. Yes I know Duncan is much more amusing and whimsical but it’s just too bad. I’ve been quiet long enough!

I am actually writing this with no hope of posting it tonight because the little cala (bay) we’re anchored in has no reception for the dongle ‘tho we do seem to be able to send & receive texts from the cockpit. It’s hopeless trying to take the laptop up there because you just can’t see the screen in the sunlight.

Cala Mitjana

The cala we’re in tonight is particularly beautiful. In fact the last few nights have been lovely so let me fill you in on what’s been happening since Duncan took his unexpected dip. Initially, after leaving Pollenca, we sailed round to Puerto de Alcudia, about 12 or so miles round the coast beyond the next headland. Our friends, Jack & Tanya had recommended Cala Aucanada in the bay of Alcudia but it was too shallow for Rampage so we anchored outside the marina at the port of Alcudia instead. The marina itself wasn’t bad with several chandleries so we were able to order one of the two much needed new anodes (vital protection on underwater metal bits that stops them eroding in the salt water! The second one is waiting for us in Palma.) Anyway, because of this we needed to stay a few days to await its arrival.

Puerto de Alcudia

We were fairly unimpressed by the touristy town that has grown up around the port. One of the most irritating aspects was the lack of a decent supermarket/market or place to buy proper food. There were several Spars but they seem to limit themselves to booze, sweets, crisps etc and fairly horrendous “souvenirs.” However, Tanya had also said that the old town of Alcudia was lovely and worth a visit so we decided to take the bikes ashore and go to see. We also thought we might find better shops away from the coast.

Alcudia old town

The trip proved worthwhile. We found an ironmongers where D was able to buy the bits and pieces he needed, plus an excellent supermarket next door where we stocked up for the next few days. However, before doing the shopping we went further into the town until we came to a large arch (no, not another stinking arch, Meg – quite a nice one!) which led into the old part of the town. We locked the bikes up & went for a stroll round the streets and up onto the “quite impressive ancient walls” (D’s words,) which partly surround the old town. As someone who has spent quite a bit of time in Chester, these ones cannot really compare but they were nice enough. It was all very attractive so we stopped for a drink at one of the many restaurants before making our way back to the bikes – to enable us to drink in the atmosphere, of course!

Next day D decided to don his scuba gear once more and remove the super-whizzo, fancy propeller we have and replace it with the original prop until we can replace both anodes. He thought he might need my help with this so I duly started to dig out my wetsuit – quite an effort as it was well buried in a locker under our bed. Before I had got into the water however, he was back at the surface with the prop which had come off much more easily than expected. However, having squeezed my fat bum into my wetsuit, I was not now going to be so easily put off so we spent the next hour or so scrubbing the bottom of the hull. Believe it not, it was quite a satisfactory job, in much the same way that turning a laundry basket of crumpled washing into neatly ironed and fold clothes is satisfying. (It’s worth noting that I no longer do virtually any ironing and feel very much better for it.)  Actually, because “Rampage” has been copper bottomed, it really isn’t too bad and has saved us the hassle and expense of having her lifted out of the water whilst in Barcelona.

Another view of Alcudia old town with a glimpse of the walls in the background.

We left Alcudia last Saturday (22nd) with no firm destination in mind. We caught sight of both “Blank Canvas” and “Æfnityr” in Cala Aucanada as we were leaving Alcudia Bay. 20 miles down the coast, we stopped for the night in a little bay called Cala Molto. After Puerto de Alcudia it was heavenly. There were no buildings around and just a couple of other yachts anchored up. It was very still and peaceful sitting watching the sun go down over the bay. We left fairly early on Sunday morning because we needed to shop for a few bits and there was nothing at all where we were. Instead we called in to a place called Cala Ratjada just a bit further down the coast. Ratjada is a proper little town with a harbour and marina. We “parked up” outside the harbour walls and took the tender into the marina where we tied up & ventured ashore.

One of the other two yachts anchored with us in Cala Molto

Afterwards we carried on down the coast to a place that had been recommended to us: Porto Colom. It was just lovely there so we stayed two nights. It is a near-perfect natural harbour and the town is very unspoilt. No ghastly, Brit tourists, no noise, no horrible hotels and “developments”; just a few quiet restaurants where we had some delicious tapas for lunch, looking out over the water, the yachts and the fishing boats. The old town to the north, where we went for a stroll yesterday evening, was attractive but largely deserted; we suspect that it is used by the Spanish themselves for 2nd homes as most places were shuttered up, it being only May.

Looking south to the entrance to Porto Colom harbour

 

Restaurant overlooking the harbour

 

Looking north to the old part of Porto Colom

Now tonight we’re in another little bay: Cala Mitjana. There are three fingers and we have had the middle one to ourselves all day and couldn’t even see the other boats in the northern finger. On the headland above us is a dream house ‘though again, the owners don’t seem to be in residence. There are a few people about but they appear to be staff. I had a lovely swim earlier and then attacked the dirt & growth on the waterline. This was quite successful & I managed about ½ of one side before I began to feel chilly and had to get out of the water. I had planned to do another stint later today but now there are some funny little creatures in the water. We saw them last evening in Porto Colom too & aren’t sure what they are but they could be juvenile jelly fish or similar. No idea whether they sting but not taking any chances! Anyway, by 8pm all the other boats had disappeared so we’ve moved “Rampage” round into the northern finger, as we think it will be more sheltered. *

Another view of the beautiful Cala Mitjana

Tomorrow night we are planning to go on round the headland of Caba de Salinas on the SE corner of Mallorca and find an anchorage somewhere there before heading on for Palma. We want to visit some small islands just south of Mallorca that are a conservation area and reputed to be really beautiful. However, you have to get a permit to go there from an office in Palma and they need a minimum of 3 days notice so we’ll go on to visit Ibiza and Formentera while we’re waiting and visit Cabrera sometime next month en route to Menorca. This is always assuming we get permission to go as it is limited to a maximum of 50 yachts a night. By all accounts it is very strictly controlled. The boats that are staying have to pick up designated mooring buoys and produce proof of permission to stay each night. No jet skis and only limited unsupervised movement ashore. Many of the bays are prohibited and others you can go into by boat but not land. There may, however be an opportunity to scuba dive – we shall see if it pans out.

Since starting this we have arrived in Ensenada de la Rapita – an anchorage just outside Colonia San Jordi and we plan to be in Santa Ponsa, west of Palma Bay by tomorrow night.

* Point to note for other cruisers: Cala Mitjada may be very pretty but it proved fairly uncomfortable last night due to the swell which kept us rocking & rolling all night. P’raps that’s why everyone else was gone by 8pm?

Excitements with the anchors

The wander bug has struck the good ship ‘Rampage’ of late and we’ve moved on from Pollenca in a fit of adventure and a desire to see round the corner. Our anchorage is now just off the port of Alcudia (link to Google earth?) which is not actually very far from where we were in Pollenca. In fact, it’s the next bay to the south from there, just round the headland. It was a total of about 12 nautical miles and took us a lazy afternoon’s sailing to get here.

Pollenca Bay where we have anchored twice - very weedy bottom!

Before more talk of our move to Alcudia, a quick update on goings on since the last storm is required. The last entry on 14 May told of dark and stormy nights at anchor in Pollenca, where we rode out our second storm since arriving in Mallorca. To ride out the storm safely, we set out two anchors, the main one and a second known as the kedge anchor. The kedge is normally stowed on the railings at the back of the boat; it’s there to provide a spare (should we be so careless as to lose the main anchor) and to enable us to put a second anchor down should circumstances require it. Circumstances required a second anchor for the storm, so we had both laid out to the front of the boat. Remember this digression, as its importance will become clear later in the blog……

Duncan enjoying a beer with our friends, Karyn & Steve

After the storm, we started to look beyond the confines of the boat again. Karyn & Steve aboard ‘Threshold’ had come round to Pollenca, as had Jack and Tanya on ‘Blank Canvas’ and also our Danish friends in ‘Æfnityr’, (I hadn’t told you their boat’s name before, as the spelling escaped me.) ‘Æfnityr’ means adventure in old Norse and I think that’s a good description of what Lasse and Malene have undertaken as their boat is smaller than ours yet they have 2 sub school age children along for the trip as well! We had been chatting to one another on the radio during the storm, making sure everyone was OK and generally having a bit of a gossip about things.

The Sunday market in Polleca

Saturday saw the return of reasonable weather and we went ashore to replenish stocks, especially fresh food as we were beginning to run short of things. Karyn and Steve contacted us on the radio and invited us to drinks that evening; as an illustration of the changeable weather, I arrived wearing sea boots because there was so much water in the bottom of the dinghy and bare feet were too cold! The following day was bright and sunny and, following a call from ‘Threshold’, we all caught the bus into Pollenca town to catch the Sunday market; the market was a cross between a farmers market in UK, with small holders selling local produce and a bit of a craft fair, with lots of small stalls selling jewellery and the like. Great fun but Steve and I took it steadily, taking a coffee in a small café whilst Karyn and J bought bits and bobs from some of the food stalls. After lunch, we walked to the top of a set of 365 steps to a small chapel on a hill top which gave excellent of views of the surrounding countryside. The bus back to the port was exciting, as there were about 115 people wanting to get on 2 buses taking a total of 112…… The whole process was not helped by a pushy German woman who managed to get to near the front of our bus queue and buy 18 tickets for her collection of friends and relatives. I mean, I’ve heard of towels on sun beds but that’s really kicking the backside out of it.

The view looking down the 365 steps towards the centre of Pollenca town

Inside the very plain little chapel which stands at the top of the steps

 

On arriving back on the boat, Jack from ‘Blank Canvas’ called and asked if I’d be prepared to dive on his boat and clean the propeller and check things underneath generally. I was only too happy to agree to do this for them the following morning. On the way back to the boat, we’d also bumped into ‘Æfnityr’ (not literally you understand!) and invited them over to visit on Monday afternoon.

Duncan prepares for a happy morning cleaning propellers

Monday was a busy day for me, as I dived on ‘Blank Canvas’, spending the better part of an hour cleaning a considerable growth of worms off her propeller and replacing the anode (a zinc casting which stops the bronze of the propeller being eaten away by the sea water). I then returned to ‘Rampage’ where I repeated the performance with our own underside. Not only did I clean up the propeller, I also removed worms from round the speed sensor and the bottom of the keel. ‘Rampage’ now moves much better through the water, especially under power.

That afternoon, Malene, Lasse, Marie and Sebastian from ‘Æfnityr’ came to visit; we were invaded by pirates, as the kids love to dress up! They’d brought a DVD with them, so the kids were happy in the saloon watching Shrek and eating crisps and Oreos whilst the grownups sat in the sun in the cockpit, drinking beer and wine and eating crisps……

The following morning, it was agreed that the time had come to move on to a new anchorage. Jack and Tanya had suggested a little place called Cala Aucanada but we looked carefully at the pilot book and decided we couldn’t get in there as it’s too shallow for us; ‘Rampage’ draws 1.85 metres under the water, whereas ‘Blank Canvas’ is only 1.5metres. That difference makes some places a bit too shallow to risk, so we opted to go a couple of miles further on to Alcudia itself – not as pretty but safer for us!

Remember the bit above about anchors? You’ll now see why I bothered to put it in! The main anchor is on a chain, whilst the kedge is on a rope. When they are properly set out, there’s an angle of about 45o between the 2 anchors; we didn’t quite get this right and in addition hadn’t put enough tension on the kedge anchor rope. The result was a spectacular tangle of chain and rope and WEED, which had to be cleared by hand as the anchor was winched in. We started to do this from the pulpit, leaning over to pull wodges of weed off the chain and ease the rope down but I ended up using the dinghy to stand in whilst J operated the winch. We recovered the main anchor and a cats cradle of rope and, with ‘Rampage’ held on the kedge anchor, I undid the anchor from the chain, extricated the rope from the chain, put the anchor back on the end of the chain and felt well pleased with myself. J then used the winch to recover the rest of the chain and anchor onto ‘Rampage’ and as I eased the anchor out of the dinghy, I managed to overbalance and fell into the water!

Trying to untangle the main anchor chain, the line from the kedge anchor and all that weed!

Ah well, it wasn’t all that cold and I managed to hand J my hearing aids before recapturing the dinghy and moving to the stern of the boat to get out of the water. J then took the picture below for posterity and you lot to giggle at before I went to the bow and pulled up the kedge anchor and we could set off for Alcudia! After changing into dry clothes, I helped J to get the dinghy on board before we made sail and had a lazy afternoon sailing round to here. There you go, the first ducking from ‘Rampage’ after living aboard her for nearly a year – not bad going.

Soggy Skipper!

Wind, wind and yet more wind.

Today is dark and stormy, so we’re confined to the boat as we’re at anchor.  With changeable, strong winds, we need to be on board in case the anchors drag so that we can do something about it there and then rather than coming back to a boat lying on the rocks….  There’s thunder and lightening going on outside and rain coming down in buckets full, so there’s not much incentive to go ashore anyhow; we’d just get soaked!  This means that we now have time to catch up on the blog and give you the next instalment of the voyages of the good ship ‘Rampage’.  Looking back, we last told you about goings on out here just after the last storm had passed through but didn’t tell you much about what happened, so I’ll start there.

Water bomber taking off - note proximity to sailing boat!

The storm that we caught was a belter.  We had winds from the north (originating in France) that touched about 60 miles an hour at times, although most of the time it a little bit less than that.  We were anchored in Pollenca quite close into the northern shore of the bay so the waves didn’t have time to build before they reached us.  Nevertheless, we were swinging violently on the anchors and the boat was heeling from side to side as the winds pushed her from one swing on to the other.  We got coke all over the deck and smashed a wine glass, which we had thought was well stowed.  In the end, I kept watch on our position with the radar whilst J got some sleep.  Then the foresail came partially unfurled and started to flap; before we could get it re-furled it has given itself a big rip.

Meanwhile the dinghy, which was tied off to the stern, decided to join in the general fun and games and was rolling over and over on its line, complete with outboard motor.  There was nothing we could do about it, just watch in amusement as it continued to flip from upright to inverted every couple of minutes.  I thought that the oars had gone but it turned out that they were still present but the blow up seat had gone off on a trip of its own, so if rowing is required now you either have to kneel or sit on the bottom with the oars round your chin.

The storm had blown itself out by mid morning with no further excitements and the weather started to pick up a little.  With the wind down to sensible levels, we could venture ashore and see about getting the sail repaired.  First though, I had to strip and rebuild the outboard motor as I didn’t fancy rowing to and from the shore – about ¼ mile off.

We then spent the next few days in Pollenca, as the sail maker couldn’t fix our sail until Friday.  We didn’t do a vast amount, other than walking round the town and exploring the surroundings.  It’s a lovely little bay but mainly focused on the package holiday trade, which means lots of bars and little shops but not too much else.   That said, there’s a sea plane base in the bay, where planes are based during the summer for water bombing fires.  A couple of planes came and stayed for a few days whilst we were there, exercising most days by taking off, then landing to scoop up water and dropping it later in the flight.  Great fun to watch them and they do get quite close to the boats in the bay!

Cala Vall de Boca, where we stayed and then ran away.

By Friday, we’d had enough of Pollenca for the time being and the weather was changing.  Since the storm, we’d had light westerly to north westerly winds but the wind was due to pick up and swing round to the south, which would make the bay here a bit uncomfortable as it’s open to the south.  We left mid afternoon after picking up our repaired sail and had a cracking sail for the 10 miles to Cape Formentor.  We then rounded the headland and started to sail down the north coast of Mallorca; as we did so, the wind disappeared and we had to motor for the rest of the trip.

Looking down into Cala de San Vicente, Rampage at anchor below us.

We’d identified a little Cala or cove from the chart and pilot book where we dropped anchor in perfectly still conditions.  It was a lovely little place, completely deserted apart from a couple of girls on the beach who left not long after we arrived.  However, just as we were thinking how nice the bay was and thinking about getting some supper together, the wind suddenly got up and started making the place most uncomfortable.  It was threatening to blow us into the side of the cove so I decided that we should move on to the next cove round as it was somewhat more open and offered a better escape route to the open sea should the anchor drag.  It took us about an hour to move and we arrived in the new anchorage just as it was getting dark, anchored up and went to bed without bothering with supper as we were both too tired.

In a bar in Cala de San Vicente, waiting for the beer to arrive.

The following morning, we woke to blue skies, no wind and the sight of Blank Canvas, a neighbour of ours from Barcelona anchored across the bay.  We stayed there for 2 nights, enjoying a couple of drinks on Blank Canvas with Jack and Tanya on Saturday night.  On Sunday, we sailed for Port de Soller, a lovely old port about half way down the northern coast of Mallorca.  We were aiming to stay there for a few days whilst I went back to UK to attend a medical board hearing for my War Pension.

We arrived there mid afternoon, having had to motor most of the way as there wasn’t enough wind.  Just as we were getting the anchor sorted, we were hailed from a passing dinghy by an American couple who we’d met in Barcelona.  We hadn’t recognized their boat but it was anchored just in front of us in the bay.  They told us that the local fiesta was taking place that weekend and that there were various events due to take place in the town of Soller (which is just inland from the port with the same name) that afternoon and on Monday.

Rampage at anchor in Port de Soller

As a result of this, J and I made out way ashore and caught the old tram which runs from the port to the town.  The town itself was full of little stalls selling all sorts of stuff, excited youngsters letting off firecrackers and generally fairly buzzing with excitement.  However, no ‘cultural’ events were taking place that we could see, so we had a very pleasant coffee before walking back down the hill to the port.

Soller tram

The following day, I was due to fly back to UK, so we left by tram which took us to the narrow gauge railway that runs from Soller town to Palma – OK expensive compared to the bus but great fun.  I left J in Soller, where she made her way back to the boat whilst I went on to Palma.  I arrived very early at the airport but didn’t worry about that, as I found a comfy seat and read my book.  When I arrived, the flight was all OK but by about 9.30, it was suddenly cancelled, presumably due to the dreaded ASH CLOUD!  By this time of day, public transport has packed up and gone home so I caught a taxi back to the port and rejoined J on the boat.  We had booked 3 days mooring in the local government run marina so at least she didn’t have to come and get me in the dinghy!

Duncan (and some random Spaniard) bid farewell as the train sets of for Palma.

The following day, we took the bikes and rode to the local big supermarket to do a bit of a basic resupply and rode back down to the port well laden – I had a large pack of kitchen paper rolls secured to the outside of my back pack and, according to J, looked a little bizarre!  That evening, we joined a Danish couple on their boat for drink.  They are travelling for a couple of years with their children (aged 3 and 5) before planning to return to Denmark when their son has to start school.

Some of the hordes of inebriated locals re-enacting the defeat of the Moors as part of the fiesta,

On Wednesday, we took the bus to Deia, a little village about 18 km from Soller, where Robert Graves lived for most of his life.  His house there is now a museum and we had a happy time exploring the village and his house.  J has been reading an autobiography of one of his daughters, so she really enjoyed seeing something of the area described in the book.  Both the bus trip and the village of Deia were well worth seeing.  The scenery was spectacular and unspoilt.  The 56-seater bus wound its way up and then back down a switchback mountain pass, built many years ago before cars or 56-seater buses!  Every time we met a vehicle on a bend coming the other way, there was a cautious manoeuvre that usually involved everyone but the bus having to reverse some distance.  All around us were imposing grey mountains, covered in olive and cypress trees with every available inch of land terraced where possible.  Everywhere was very green and dotted with wild flowers, particularly yellow patches of gorse and bright red poppies.  Deia itself was compact and delightful.  We wound our way up to the church, perched atop a small hill where we admired the view in every direction and failed to find Graves’ headstone in the tiny cemetery, (OK, we didn’t look that hard.)  We then made our way to Graves’ house, a short walk out of the village.  Afterwards there was just time for a cold drink on a vine-covered café terrace before making our way back to the bus stop.

Landscape round Deia

The trip back to Soller was entertaining, as the bus – when it appeared – could only just cope with the number of people who wanted to get back down to Soller.  However, in a most un-Spanish display of efficiency, we were met by a minibus just outside Deia which took all of the standing passengers down to the town!

Station of the Cross in Deia

That evening, we hosted Tanya and Jack from Blank Canvas and Karyn and Steve from Threshold to drinks and nibbles on Rampage.  As always happens amongst cruising folk, the talk soon turned to the weather and it soon emerged that we were all planning on leaving Soller the following day to make our way back round to the eastern side of the island as there were strong winds from the north and west forecast for the following days.  Soller is too tight to sit out a storm from that direction, as there is no way to escape to open sea if it all goes wrong.

Robert Graves' study in Deia.

Having topped off our water tanks, we left Soller at about 11 am the following morning.  We made sail as we left the port and had a great day sailing up the northern coast of Mallorca, which is all cliffs and spectacular coves.  We ended up sailing on just the headsail as the winds came round to sit astern of our course, making 6 – 7 knots.  We rounded Cape Formentor and beat our way back to the west into Pollenca where we dropped anchor by about 8 pm.

The garden at Robert Graves' house.

We had an early night last night, just as well as it turned out, as the wind suddenly got up in about 3am and we had to mount an anchor watch to make sure nothing dragged.  J did the first stint, watching the radar screen to make sure that we weren’t moving but didn’t need to wake me to take over, as the winds died down again.

Today, we woke to overcast skies and the promise of more wind, so we put out a second anchor and decided to update blogs, do knitting and other such domestic things.  As I write now, we have force 7 – 8 winds blowing down from the mountains to the north.  The anchor on the catamaran just inshore from us has  broken out of its hold and she’s had to make out to sea but ours seem to be holding at present, so although we’re moving about a fair bit and the wind is shrieking in the rigging, it’s now lunch time!  I’ll get this up on the blog after we’ve eaten.

The Tall Ship 'Sir Robert Baden-Powell' looms out of the rain today.

Back to Sea!

Well, as we sit here at anchor in a wet, windy Puerto de Pollenca in north eastern Mallorca, we can reflect on a winter in Barcelona and the start of a new cruising season. Firstly, let’s look back on what’s been going on since we last put something up on the blog back on 19 April.

Meggie scrubs the decks!

Meg and Bron finally escaped from Barcelona after 11 days here on 22 April. A coach took them to Lille and then another on to London. From there they made their way back home to Cardiff. Sleazyjet had offered them a flight on Sunday 25 April but Bron decided it was better to jump ship on Thursday as there was no guarantee that the flight would in fact happen. They had a nightmare of a trip, not arriving in back in London until the early hours of Saturday – we got a text from them as we rolled back on board Rampage at 1am-ish after a few drinks on board Tantrum.

Bron and Meg at the Citadel Park in Barcelona

Our next (and final) visitors arrived the following afternoon: J’s sister Lizzie and her partner John. We met them at Franca station and walked back to the boat through a lovely sunny afternoon. That evening we went to the “Son et Lumiere” at the fountains at Placa Espanya. We’d known about this show for months but had never managed to motivate ourselves enough on a Friday or Saturday evening to get along to it. Big mistake! It was a great thing to do and we can fully recommend it to anyone who is in Barcelona on a Friday or Saturday evening. Best thing of all is it’s free!

The amazing music & light show at the fountains near Placa Espanya

On Monday, we took Lizzie out for a sail whilst John went exploring in Barcelona. We had a good day out and used the new cruising chute and its snuffer (or snotter according to Linda who kindly brought it out from UK for us.) This, as she so delicately put it, is a condom for the sail making it easier to hoist and lower. However, as we returned to Port Vell, Julia decided that she needed to become the centre of attention and, having put out the fenders, managed to turn her ankle rendering herself useless as a crew member. Lizzie was introduced to steering a 40 foot sail boat at naught minutes notice whilst I put a bandage on J’s ankle – she did well, hitting nothing and not even squeaking in panic as she was tasked to do the job! We managed to get Rampage safely back alongside without further incident and decided that J’s ankle was really quite swollen and she hadn’t been bluffing.

John and Lizzie took us out to supper that evening in the Born – a district of Barcelona. We had a great meal, mainly due to the fact that John is a professional chef who speaks fluent Spanish, so not only did he know what he wanted to eat but could order it effectively. I haven’t eaten quite so much in a single sitting for ages, all of it well cooked and tasty.

Not content with the attempt to add a few inches to our waistlines, John then cooked a superb seafood lunch for us the next day before he and Lizzie left for the airport. Great visit!

Our focus then shifted on to our impending departure from Port Vell. Rampage was pretty much ready to sail after all the jobs we’ve done on her over the winter so it was more a question of watching the weather and getting provisions aboard.

Weather watching is something of an art form amongst cruising folk and is something of an individual sport. Everyone has their own favourite site and their own approach to what represents ‘good’ weather’. Our usual site is one call grib.us and provides us with a 7 day forecast of wind, cloud and rain in 25 mile squares. We’d looked at the forecast and thought that Saturday was a good day to start with not much wind and clear skies. Steve on the other hand thought that Monday was a much better bet, with 30 knot winds coming from the west and north so we could make a ‘storming’ crossing – not our idea of cruising weather at all! Mix in the rain clouds, which his favourite site didn’t show and you can see why, after a good deal of indecision, we finally opted to leave on Saturday morning.

J did the final bits of shopping and went off to the Marina offices to argue about how much they owed us whilst I did all the bits required to separate Rampage from her berth. We were all stowed and ready to leave by 1130 and were waved off by Richard, Ruth, Linda and Josie. A final farewell was from Steve on board the super yacht he captains – he gave us a passing salute on his siren.

The crossing to Mallorca is about 100 miles and it took us 23 hours – arriving 10am yesterday. The middle bit of the crossing was on the motor, as the wind disappeared (as forecast) early evening and didn’t come back until the wee hours of the morning. We then sailed all the way up to Puerto de Pollenca before losing the wind in the final approach. Dropping the sails, we entered a lovely protected bay with the town running down to the shore; we anchored about a quarter of a mile offshore and, once sure that the anchor was holding, settled down to have a good sleep, especially J as she hadn’t managed to sleep much on the trip across.

Yesterday afternoon we took the tender ashore and did a little recce of the town. After Barcelona, it’s a bit ‘trippery’: too many places offering English breakfasts and Guinness, but there’s a big supermarket in walking distance of the shore and buses to the rest of the island.

Back on board Rampage, as made “superburgers” and cooked them on the Cobb barbeque we bought last year at the Barcelona Boat Show. The barbeque is ideal for use on board, as its outside casing cleverly does not get hot, so it doesn’t need a special rack or support to stop it burning the boat. Much recommended by the crew of Rampage!

The looming storm clouds - difficult to put a picture in capturing the storm as by the time it was at full throttle, I wasn't going out to take pictures!

After an early night, we woke to the sound of rain on the cabin roof and it’s stayed that way ever since! OK, we knew that the forecast was for high winds and rain but really, this is more the sort of weather we expected on the Menai. At least it is due to clear up tomorrow although the winds are due to build a bit more before tonight, so I’d better take a break now, let J have a look at this and check to make sure that the anchor is stable…

… Anchor is fine but we’ve put out a kedge anchor as well, just to be sure & J has baked bread for lunch. Plan to “batten down the hatches” and sit out the storm…

The herbs after their storm tossed adventures landed them in clink....

… Now midday Tuesday and we have survived a fairly spectacular storm (winds Force 8 – 10.)  We didn’t get much sleep but came through largely unscathed other than a drowned outboard, (now restored to full health) and a tattered foresail.  The herb garden (presented by Barbara) made an escape bid but were recaptured and are now in solitary confinement, having made a dreadful mess of the cockpit!

The Skipper takes the genoa for repairs

NB There are now a few photos posted to the previous blog!