Ibiza is the only island we’ve ever visited that has its own soundtrack. A mile or more out and it’s still possible to hear dance music beats eminating from the shore. Thankfully (for us at least) the club scene spots are very isolated from the rest of the island which remains wonderfully tranquil.
In summary, we’ve not done a lot over the past couple of weeks. We’ve not had any long journeys to complete, or tricky customs officers to deal with, or excursions inland. It’s been a fortnight of superb day sailing between some of the nicest anchorages we’ve ever visited.
Cala Raco d’es Mares (1) was a good option for us to make landfall after our crossing as it would provide us with shelter from the westerlies that had given us a great overnight downwind sail. It was a large open bay, and fairly featureless apart from a small beach in the corner. As it turned out though, the shelter was excellent and we caught up with the sleep we’d missed the night before.
The next day we sailed up the coast and through the buoyed channel at the north of Formantera before crossing to the south coast of Ibiza.
Here we spent our first few lazy days in the anchorages of Yondal (2) and Cala Port da Roig (3). These were both lovely small bays surrounded by low cliffs into which were cut fisherman’s huts; ramshackle doors in the cliffs behind which they would haul up and keep their traditional fishing boats. It also gave me a chance to set up our hammock for the first time in ages:
From here we headed round to Cala Vadella (4), a small Spanish resort where we picked up a free mooring buoy and spent a couple of days swimming from the back of the boat, keeping a close eye out for the jellyfish that also seemed to enjoy swimming there – yes we both got stung and it really hurt. Apart from the jellyfish, we really loved it there. To get ashore we rowed a few meters in the dinghy, clambered over the fisherman’s huts (left on the photo) and across the beach (via the bars) to the restaurants and shops. The waters were crystal clear and filled with fish that would devour the leftovers from our plates in the evening.
We’d read about a small and very remote anchorage, Cala Portixol (5), that could be used in fair weather. We decided we would take a look and, if the conditions were ok, then we’d spend a night there.
When we arrived the sea was very settled and the place was deserted apart from a few people that had made a cross country walk to use the beach. There was just enough room for us, so we reversed in carefully dropping our anchor as we went and then taking a line ashore to a large rock to prevent us from swinging. For additional peace of mind I assembled our Fortress anchor and rowed that out in the dingy to give us extra holding from the bow.
The Spanish are very relaxed about nudity, and we’ve got quite used to seeing people perfecting their all-over tans (it’s not as glamorous as you might first imagine). As used to this as we’d become, it still came a something of a surprise when I looked round in this solitary spot to see a couple of naked men sitting on the rock we’d tied our line to, quietly watching us getting settled in. I guess they’d taken a break from the beach to swim over and see what we were doing. After they got bored watching (and after having a little cuddle with one another) they made their way back to the beach and we were alone again.
That night the moon was out and the phosphorescent creatures in the sea twinkled around the boat giving us our own little light show before we went to bed. It was magical.
The next morning, after breakfast, we made a short trip around the next headland and dropped our anchor in the bay of San Miguel (6). Tucked inside the bay there were beaches in either direction and we climbed through the pine trees in the hills to get a better view.
You may recall that we made a sun awning a few weeks ago. You can see it here in action – its the most valuable piece of kit we have on board at the moment as the midday sun is punishingly hot.
We were enjoying a peaceful afternoon in San Miguel until a big motor yacht decided to drop anchor among the sailing yachts. Motor boats and sailing yachts react very differently to wind shifts and before long he was using his £25K Williams Jet Tender as a fender when he swung into our neighbour. Boating is a great spectator sport!
Cala Portinatx (7) was a small town where we spent a couple of days with lots of good restaurants. The paella here was second to none:
And the sunsets were quite special too – here’s our view from the paella restaurant:
Cala Llonga (8) seemed to have the highest concentration of male nudes which may have been fun for Helena but didn’t hold much interest for me. So after a night there and a quick game of name-the-nudie (my favourite name was Mr Brownsack), we moved on again to Cala Sahona (9) which was stunningly beautiful with its white sand bottom bay and bright turquoise waters but, as it was the weekend and close to Ibiza town, it was also very busy so we didn’t stick around for long.
Our last stop in Ibiza was back on Formentera, close to where we’d started. More specifically, in an anchorage on Espalmador (10) which is famous for its sulphur mud baths.
After nearly boiling my foot testing the temperature of the dark mud that had been warming in the sun all day, I got stuck in and found it was a very effective sun block.
The next morning we got up early to catch the sunrise and we set our course for Mallorca.
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