Gib to Balearics

One of the reasons we came to the Med was that our son, Tom, an olympic sailor, was living in Spain to train full-time.  However, just as we started to cross the Atlantic, his plans changed.  He now keeps TO as his base but still spends much of his time in Europe.  We were thrilled and lucky to expect a visit from him in September, 2017 after his training camp in Athens.

We wanted to get as far up the Spanish mainland coast as possible to pick up Tom and then head  across to the Balearics so Peter and Tom could do some kite-boarding together.  We hoped to avoid checking into Spain until picking up Tom at a marina in Alicante.  Hence, a few more Schengen free days for me.

We left Gibraltar in a pleasant 15 knot breeze (at dock) and rounded the rock with a wind in the 20 knot range from the stern.  We planned on an overnight sail to skip the crowded, built up and not recommended Costa del Sol, heading directly for Costa del Blanco.  At 19:00 as we went over our nightly parameters for sail change etc. before my first watch, it was 32 knots.  That is "near gale" in The Beaufort Wind Scale terminology and described as "Sea heaps up and white foam from breaking waves begins to be blown in streaks along the direction of the wind."  Sounds worse than it feels but still a bit daunting.  If the wind got still higher, I asked Peter at what magic number to wake him.  He said, "Well, I guess I should be up if it becomes a gale."  We agreed on 35 knots.  We were reefed but still carrying sail.

The trick to sailing downwind in high wind is to keep the sail from gybing which means the angle that the wind hits the sail requires a very small angle to be efficient and safe.  Constant steering with the auto pilot is required to hold the wind at the correct angle.  My fingers were glued to the buttons as the wind became stronger.  Luckily, it was dark so I couldn't see the size of the waves but the noise of Milly through the waves was thunderous and in itself exhausting.  At 37 knots I woke Peter.  I couldn't leave the helm so shouted at him down the bedroom hatch, strategically placed immediately behind the helm.  I told him the wind speed, he said okay, but did not appear.  He fell back asleep.  This, I suppose, is a good sign - he has greater faith in me than I do.

A view of our safe harbour after a rollicking night sail in Puerto Genoves at the Costa del Sol, Costa Blanca border.  We arrived  just before sunset so no time to go ashore but it looked like great hiking in completely undeveloped large bay.

We left as the rising sun made the mountains glow with honeyed light.

All was well, in any case.  The wind gradually subsided to under 35 and in his watch in was under 30 - measly.  We were beginning to understand that wind in the Med is unpredictable, changes fast and forecasts are accurate only within hours, not days as they are in the trades.

Next stop, Ensenada de Mazarron, a town where Spanish holiday instead of the usual northern European.   

According to plan we hopped up the coast and met Tom in the grand marina in Alicante.  Such a wonderful reunion - we hadn't seen him in nine long months.

Alicante with the Castillo de Santa Barbara on the hill.  The Alicante Marina was getting ready to host the start of the Volvo Ocean Race in a few weeks with unfortunate Ocean Race prices.  We only stayed one night so just had time for a brief walk and provisioning.  What we saw was lovely and worth another visit. 

We had a great time with him.  He got us fishing and eating tuna sashimi.  Many hikes, a motorcycle tour, lots of swimming and sailing, of course.  But, alas, no kiteboarding.

The first tuna was small but still yummy.  Tom insisted on fishing whenever we sailed and, contrary to our usual bad luck, he actually caught fish.

We anchored outside the marina in Puerto de Calpe with the dramatic backdrop of Penon de Ifach.  Our goal was to climb to the top along a rocky and steep but well-marked trail.

View of Milly from the top of the green growth on the trail.  Now just the rocky pinnacle to do beginning with a manmade tunnel and the trail on the other side.

Tom was always in the lead, usually running the trail.

He was there waiting for us when we made it to the top.

There's Milly way down there.  The rocky pinnacle was a nice contrast to the overbuilt high-rises of the town.

Our climb of the day before.  The trail actually went up that side!  Costa Blanca is spectacular.  Rocky mountainous coastline interspersed with towns and cities.  Although known to be overbuilt, much of the coast, from the water anyway, was untouched.

Another lovely residential spot, El Rinconet, with small round bay to anchor in and little dinghy club where we could haul TomTom onto the beach for...

...yet another hike to the top of a cliff.  The coastal outcrops and hilltops in Portugal and Spain are dotted by watch towers like the one above.  They make for good hiking goals as they are always at the highest peak and closest to the coast.

He made it to the highest point.

Milly again.

The path went down and around.  Sunset was coming so we didn't have time to follow it - it almost kills me to leave a path without going around the next corner.

On our way to Balearics.  Waterspout looking like it was about to touch down on the ship below. 

Unbelievably, we happened to arrive in Formentera when Yacht A, the longest sailing yacht (actually a sail-assisted motor yacht) in the world was anchored there.  Of course, we had to take a cruise around her like all the other boats did.  She's only been underway since May, 2017 so felt very lucky to see her.

Little decks opened up from the hull fully equipped with chaise lounges.

The hull looked completely devoid of port lights from Milly but you can see them in the sun here

A couple of garages for toy boats.

Milly with Yacht A.

Formentera, the smallest of the Balearics.  Previously known as a hippie island, it still sports naturist beaches and folky cottages as opposed to the villas of Mallorca.  The coast was bounded by precipitous cliffs

while the land was flatter and green but still arid.

At one stop on our motorcycle tour of the island, we found a hole in the ground with a ladder going down.  Of course, we had to explore.  Down we went to a cave which opened up about 10 meters below the top of the cliff on this rocky ledge.

People had built hundreds of tiny inukshuks inside the cave.  We each added to the collection.

We had a great tour around the island by motorcycle.  Each of us commented that we could live there or  at least spend a lot more time there.  Only disappointment, we had expected kite-boarding but none to be had.

Such a great visit!  We were sorry, as always, to say good-bye.  But Tom was coming back for a full-scale family reunion in Mallorca in just a few weeks.

For now, on to Mallorca where we were meeting dear friends.