Category Archives: Spain

Disenchanted with Southern Spain

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Sailing near Denia

Sailing near Denia

I spent the next two weeks sailing down the Costa del Sol and Costa Blanca stopping at Denia, Altea, Alicante, Torrevieja, Cartagena, Almeria, Almerimar, and Benalmadena.

With a steady land breeze, the sailing was exceptional. Eileen of Avoca sped effortlessly along the coast, often passing within a cable of bizarrely shaped headlands with dramatic cliffs and abundant bird life.

Dolphins visited frequently, swimming beside us with ethereal splendor for hours on end. At night, their intricate performance (illuminated by the agitated bioluminescent plankton), prompted rapturous applause.

Almeria

Almeria

The cities I’ve visited are the antithesis of this natural splendor. They appear excessively contrived and soulless. The further I travel south, the more feigned it all becomes.

With the exception of a handful of historic buildings, period architecture is abandoned to make way for the construction of theme park styled apartments and brand name shopping centers. What has happened to the real Spain? Tourist traps and real estate agents can’t be all that’s left!

Everything is for rent or for sale. Did the recent boom come at such a cultural cost?
I put these questions to the older sailors berthed for winter in Cartagena. They assure me that the real Spain still lives but it is not to be found further south among the plastic covered landscapes and marina developments of Andalucia.

Benalmadena

Benalmadena

I am certainly not impressed. The scarcity of berths for visiting yachts at intended destinations (Almerimar excepted) made landfall a chore, and the frequent questioning or searches by port officials did little to make me feel welcome.
Perhaps misinformation from my outdated Mediterranean almanac was to blame, or I’ve just been in the wrong frame of mind.

I decide to break my journey and leave Eileen while I return to Belgium for a white Christmas. I’ll take up where I left off in the new year.

Seasons Greetings everyone!

Ibiza is dead

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Eileen at anchor

Eileen at anchor

For almost a week gale force winds battered the anchorage. Eileen of Avoca shifted from side to side tugging at her lines but sheltered from the open sea, the passing storms had little effect. I didn’t even have to worry about getting struck by the frequent lightning with this fine lightning rod (see photo) anchored close by.

By the 10th of November conditions had vastly improved and I made haste for Ibiza. I’m told the fishing is especially good after a storm and my haul of swordfish and tuna certainly seemed to confirm this. I was simply having a ball.

I wish the same could be said after my arrival in Ibiza. Incredibly this supposed mecca for hedonists had even less going for it in November than my quiet anchorage in Mallorca. A city consisting of vacant apartment blocks is not quite my cup of tea, so I sailed to the other side of the island to check whether “la belle vie” had moved to San Antonio.

It hadn’t.

I half expected to see tumbleweeds rolling through the deserted streets and seasonally abandoned establishments. With no incentive to linger, I set sail once more, braving an increasingly agitated sea to reach Denia and the possibility of real life on the Spanish mainland.

A sweet little anchorage west of Portals Nous

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Finding a safe anchorage in the Bay of Palma

Finding a safe anchorage in the Bay of Palma

I motored Eileen of Avoca just 4 miles west to Cala Nova but found the marina had unreasonable expectations with regards to the size of my wallet, so I motored another 3 miles passed Iletta to an anchorage outside Portals Nous.
We found good holding in sand but the rolling swell and the constant baying of sea lions from the adjacent marine park was only amusing for the first hour. At dawn we weighed anchor and moved a little over a mile further west to a brilliant little anchorage at N29º31.33′ E2º32.40′ and that’s were Eileen of Avoca stayed for the next week.
My crew abandoned ship on the 5th heading back to Amsterdam, so I was left alone to wait out some ugly weather. A handful of other boats shared my anchorage sheltering from the intensifying north westerlies but aside from the occasional brief salutation, the crews kept to themselves. Winter sailors appear to be such a sociable lot 😉
I passed the time reading, fishing, surfing the Internet (free WiFi access from the boat), and ferrying provisions with my kayak. The towns cafés and lovely beaches were largely deserted but I was content. Provided there were no unexpected wind shifts, Eileen was secure with both her 25lb CQR and trusty Danforth deployed.

Kicked out of Palma de Mallorca

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Cathedral, Palma de Mallorca

Cathedral, Palma de Mallorca

I found a great spot to moor at a quay for small boats marked “molinos de Jonquet” on my BlueNav electronic chart. I took care to choose a spot that was not in use (evidenced by the growth on the mooring line), and set about exploring the highlights of the town.

One Gothic cathedral later; we’d run out of tourist sites to visit and sat wondering what the Mallorca sailing hype is all about. Admittedly this was November so we couldn’t expect to find carnival, but we’d held such naively high expectations!

Luckily, before the boredom set in too deeply and reduced us to autonomous zombies seeking pleasure in purchasing kitsch plastic tourist offerings or t-shirts, we were kicked out of Palma by a uniformed baton wielding despot with so many chips on his shoulder he could open a mill.

The banging on the bowsprit woke me at an uncivilized hour (any hour before I naturally wake up is uncivilized in my book). Poking my head out of the forward hatch I found an animated official banging away with his crowd control baton on Eileen’s brightwork.

Spanish isn’t my forte but I did manage to  establish that his acrimony had something to do with me and an incongruity with his clipboard. No matter, surely it was just a matter of handing over the appropriate mooring fee.

Apparently not. Insisting that another boat was due to take our spot, and every other free place on the quay for that matter (as unlikely as this may seem given the quantity of unused berths).

Needless to say, this encounter did wonders to colour my appraisal of this city with its upstanding executive establishment. So we were not too miffed to loosen warps and politely wave adiós. 🙂

Sailing to Mahon Menorca

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With the sea calm once more, Gianluca and I were captivated by the night approach to Mahon Menorca. It had been a magical crossing. We’d caught three Dorado (though one managed to get away while lifting it out of the water), had a prolonged visit by a tired little avian friend, and even spotted whales (yes this time I’m not joking. There really are whales in the Mediterranean).

Despite the mention of a tsunami affecting the Balearic Islands in 2003 (originating from the Zemmouri earthquake in Algiers), my Mediterranean almanac and electronic charts showed a safe, well lit, approach to Mahon.

menorca

Menorca

Tying to the public quay opposite Isla Pinto we were surprised to find the port relatively empty. Where were all the yachtsmen? We invited a curious passerby aboard and exchanged a portion of our latest catch for some local news and gossip. Evidently the sailing season ended in September. Looks like the Spanish leisure boaters take their toys out only two months of the year (just like the Italians), and the last of the cruising set (heading for Gibraltar and beyond), passed by at least a month ahead of us.

I’m late! I’m late… and before long the fine weather will surely deteriorate!

After a whirlwind tour of Mahon, resupplied and well rested, the not so dynamic duo said farewell to the hoards of locals gathered to witness our departure…. would you believe a hoard of two elderly couples and one child in a pram? How about a stray dog and two seagulls? OK, we slipped away before anyone would notice and set our sights on reaching Palma de Mallorca (120NM away) by the 1st of November.

Tuna steaks

Tuna steaks

Sailing directions in brief:

Take a heading of 240º from the southern tip of Menorca, then turn right before you hit Isla de Cabrera. Easy. Moreover, catch sizable tuna à volonté while on route, slice into steaks and eat to your hearts content.