The old town of Mahon/Mao is an attractive jumble of streets and historic buildings and is well worth a visit. In our typical tourist mode, we stroll about in the early afternoon to find it a ghost town. Of course, this is Spain, so life and business only begin at 6pm. Most meals for locals are served after 10pm and entertainment events begin at 11pm. I am sure we will acclimatise to this eventually.
It was short walk out of the port to an amazing Talaiotic settlement at Trepuco. Sort of a Stonehenge/standing stones theme, its main feature is the supposed giant's table. These megaliths date back to the Bronze and Iron ages and are scattered over the Balaeric islands. Walking back from the settlement we explored the local cemetery. Hundreds of crypts, many still receiving occasional new occupants, were maintained in good order. Overall it was a very atmospheric place.
With a low pressure system making its erratic and unpredictable path in our general direction it was agreed to stay in Mahon rather than risk being caught in an exposed anchorage. As the day progressed we had wind from various directions of only moderate strength and there was a clear spell in the afternoon. This turned out to be the "eye" of the low moving directly overhead. The opportunity was taken for a quick tour of the Fortalesa La Mola Isabel II. And what an incredible place it was. The Mahon harbour has been fought over for centuries by everyone, as it is an outstanding refuge in a strategic position. Various powers including the British had a fortress on the southern headland, but it was early in the 19th century that the Spanish began fortifying the northern headland. They did not stint on expense. It is a vast construction with extraordinary walls, moats, gun emplacements, killing zones, tunnels, stores, magazines, and later a large penitentiary. With the eye of the low moving away, the sky became darker and darker, so we virtually ran around the place to see as much as possible before the storm. By 7pm it was dark and it was time to return to the boat.
Midnight. Diomedea is slammed over in her berth by a wall of wind and water. It is blowing steady 45 knots with gusts into the low 50s from the northwest. Rain is horizontal and like nails in your face. We are pushed back hard onto the dock and onto the boat next to us but luckily we have good fenders out. There is carnage elsewhere as sails, biminis and shade cloths come loose. In the town, large trees are smashed to pieces by the onslaught. The early morning hours are an anxious time for us but Diomedea eventually emerges into the gloom of daybreak intact.
Another day was required for the weather to settle enough for a departure. Our trip from Port Mahon to Mallorca had many variables, but one constant was the remarkably large NE swell left over from the storm. This swell continued for many days in fact despite strong southerly winds. The upshot was that all anchorages were untenable due to the above combination. So, after a windy, wet, and rough crossing of the strait between the islands our only port of refuge was Pollenca a few miles down from the stunning cape of Formentor. As anchoring was forbidden we were obliged to berth. Andrea negotiated the rate from €100 down to 50 for cash. We spent the difference on a good meal at this rather British-oriented tourist town.
Rounding Formentor the next morning brought 35kt "bullets" of wind onto us, funnelled through the clefts in the mountain range. Light winds interspersed the blasts. Picking a sail combo was impossible so we motor sailed down the west coast enjoying superb mountain and cliff panoramas of this wild place. The 1482m peak Puigh Major, loomed above us as we turned into the narrow slot entrance of Puerto de Soller for our night. Again quite touristy but this time Germany was the predominant invader. We took our passegiata along the cove, occasionally overtaken by the tram that moves the punters about. The last leg down to Palma de Mallorca was done in virtual glass-out conditions, and finally the northerly swell had abated. Isla Dragonera was the turning point toward Andratx and Palma. The name comes from the dramatic relief of the island's geography and apparently also due to a resident population of lizards. There appeared to be an excellent walk to the 360m pinnacle. Then it was onto a lunch anchorage before our destination, the massive yachting hub of Palma, and a rendezvous with our son Angus, resident in the town. We were very excited to see him again naturally after a gap of many months.
The picture is Dragonera. Other pix in Spain folder, photo gallery, RHS.