Birvidik

Menorca and onwards

We left Porto Colom at 6:30 a.m. and arrived in Mahon at 2:30 after an excellent motor sail. It seems that you can only get a decent wind around here if you go offshore. Around the islands the wind seems to follow the coast and is either right behind you or (more often) dead ahead. Turn a corner round a cape, expecting to get the wind on the beam and it turns too - still on the nose..

We moored up in Mahon to one of the floating island pontoons and, after 14 nights at anchor, revelled in the abundance of fresh water. Lovely long showers, washing down the decks and buckets of washing soaking with the first lot on the line. The staff here are very friendly and helpful and go out of their way to make things as easy and convenient as possible for you. Paperwork is done on the pontoon for you and you can even get your groceries delivered to the boat for a charge of 2 euros. The poor bloke suffered a hernia from the quantities of beer and wine he had to load in and out of his dinghy.

Mahon is one of our favourite places so far. A very attractive and busy port with an equally attractive town set on the hills surrounding it. After a few days in Mahon we set of up the coast to Cala de Grao, where we anchored for 3 nights. Cala de Grao did not have The Resort, nor did it have TCFH. It did, however, have The Rock. This is a sodding great reef which runs almost across the entrance to the cala, shallowing in places to well under 2 metres. This reef, however, has managed to keep a very low profile and is not mentioned in any of the pilot books, nor on any of the charts. As we trundled happily down the middle of what we presumed to be the fairway into the anchorage the echo-sounder went from 12 metres to 8, then 5 metres under the keel. Just as Bob started to get suspicious it dropped to 20 cm under the keel in a matter of seconds and, looking over the side, all we could see were a mass of weed and sharp pointy hard bits all around the boat. Before we could work out the best course of action we were over the reef and back into deeper water. We cleared the rocks with the thickness of a couple of paperbacks to spare.

Others, however, were not so lucky. Another English ketch, Freya, came in later and managed to clout the self same rock, as she drew just that little bit more than us. Luckily she suffered no serious damage. Bob has sent the GPS co-ordinates of the reef on to the publishers of the pilot.

The Cala is a lovely spot - well worth nearly going aground for. There is a large saltwater lagoon behind it which abounds with wildlife, including the obligatory Unique Species of Lizard which every island, islet, rock and mudflat seems to have around here. We took the dinghy off to a nearby island (also with, funnily enough, a USoL) where we snorkelled in crystal clear, aquamarine, 20 degree C water. This is the life.

From Cala de Grao we nipped around the NE corner of Menorca to Cala de Fornells, where we made up to the buoys which have been laid by the Marine Parks Authority to protect the Posodonia (Sea grass), from nasty anchors. "Save the Seaweed" doesn't quite have the same ring to it as "Save the Whale", does it? How about "Stop the bloody weeding"? Still, we don't mind - the mooring buoys are free to use.

Fornells is a huge cala with very little development, just a small village with a pretty palm lined front and restaurants.

From Fornells it was back to Mahon to water up and restock for the trip across to Sardinia. We ended up on the adjacent floating island to last time which had a thriving social life. The authorities had provided tables, benches and even a barbecue free for use, and the pontoon was in the shape of a square with a central section cut out to serve as a swimming pool, complete with ladders. Very civilised.

A 2 mile dinghy ride took us to Fort Isabella II on the island of Mola near the entrance to the port. The fort is a must see if you're in the vicinity. It is a really impressive piece of engineering, done in a light coloured sandstone. It's in an excellent state of repair. It has an almost church-like air due to the use of arches and domed ceilings.

And so, goodbye Spain, hello Italy. We left Mahon at 04:00 in the dark. Picking our way through the plethora of lights, both stationary and moving, we made it down the 3 mile channel from the harbour to the open sea and set off for Sardinia. It was an excellent trip.

Liz would like the following noted:

Bob had wanted to keep up at least 5 knots to get to Sardinia when it was still light. As it turns out we must have got a current with us and were steaming along, getting up to nearly 8 knots. Ironically, having dug Liz out of bed at some ungodly hour of the morning Bob then announced that we would have to slow down or we'd arrive in Sardinia in the early hours of the morning, when it was still dark. But did she make sulky comments about this? I leave that to your judgement.

We had supper at sea and then Liz did the 22:00 - 01:00 watch and only saw one ship and no wildlife. Bob did the 01:00 - 04:00 and saw nothing. Liz then did the 04:00 - 07:00 and found herself on a dodgem track with damned great freighters and ferries. There were two radar alarms warning of potential collisions and things weren't helped by the fact that Bob had reduced the backlight levels on the radar/plotter (the man's a fanatic about not compromising night vision) and Liz could hardly see the screen. As ships loomed ever closer she was frantically scrabbling to put her glasses on and peering at the screen, her nose nearly flattened on it. She managed to miss everything, but wasn't sure about the course she managed to get the boat back to so she had to wake Bob up anyway, just as Birvidik swung smugly back onto the correct course.

The wind rose steadily throughout the morning and we had her sailing well at six knots. The wind continued to rise and it was blowing a 4-5 by the time we arrived at our planned anchorage, which didn't look tenable in the current conditions and so we set off 5 miles across the bay to Porto Scuso.

It was still blowing strongly in the marina and we were directed to an alongside berth with the wind blowing us strongly off the berth. Luckily, on the second attempt we managed, with the help of four very helpful Italians, to get her moored up, to great sighs of relief all round. Ten minutes later the wind dropped completely.

But not for long.

We've now been in Porto Scuso for a week, having had the unforgettable experience of sitting through a Tramontana. This is where the French export their bad weather. If a nasty cold front has the temerity to enter La Belle France, it is directed down and to the left by the authorities and is therefore funnelled nicely between the Alps and the Pyrenees whence it shoots southeastards like a cork from a bottle as Le Mistral. By the time Le Mistral gets to Sardinia it has managed to fan out, kick up a nice rough sea, and change its name to La Tramontana.

It appears out of nowhere like a large drinks bill, and can manage to go from calm to gale force in 15 minutes. And it doesn't know when it's managed to outstay its welcome. This one has been blowing for 6 days and is only now starting to ease. It'll probably be another couple of days before we leave, just to give the seas time to calm down.

The six days, however, have not been totally wasted. Four of them have been taken up with a wrestling match between Bob and the plumbing in the aft heads.

(Note: those of a sensitive disposition should look away now)

On the way over from Menorca, Bob decided to pump out the holding tank which, for the uninitiated, holds all those unpleasant bodily fluids and solids that one would rather not visit upon one's immediate neighbours whilst in harbour. During said manoeuvre, there was a 'Thunk' noise and the pump sounded as if it had developed an advanced case of constipation. Bob switched off the pump and tried the hand pump. Blocked solid.

This was not totally unexpected as heads plumbing is subject to calcite build up, especially in limestone areas such as the Balearics. Various remedies are put forward by different authorities on the best approach in dealing with this problem. On the Liberal, Pacifist Wing, opinion leans toward a dose of fairy liquid or, if feeling particularly aggressive a gentle douche with diluted vinegar. Bob decided to go for the 'Shock & Awe' tactic and wandered off into town to search for the most concentrated, aggressive mineral acid he could get hold of.

Jackpot! Nice little hardware shop, Italian dictionary , and 10 minutes of graphic sign language later out he comes, the proud owner of 5 litres of 60% hydrochloric acid.

Well, it did the trick. Pumped it through the system and it produced grunts, bubbles, squeals, belches and a sound like an elephant with amoebic dysentery. Further flushing spat large quantities of limescale and other, probably best unidentified, substances out of the outlet. It got rid of all the limescale.

Unfortunately, some of the aforementioned limescale was helpfully blocking a number of fairly large cracks in the pump casing. You see - nothing is completely without positive features. - In its absence, pumping the system sprayed half the pump contents into the after heads, where is drained down various pipes and surfaces and collected in attractive little pools under the floor.

And so it began.

Step one - identify the problem. Easy - Pump knackered.

Step two - List possible solutions:

a) Ignore problem.
b) Replace pump
c) Repair Pump

Step three - Choose best solution. Liz Vetoed (a), and we carry a spare pump (surprised?), so we went for (b)

Step four - discover problem with chosen solution.

Special, expensive, odour-blocking piping has managed to weld itself onto the pump fittings and will have to be cut off, thus necessitating new piping. New piping only available by mail order.

Step four - go back to solution (c). Use special sealing material, bandages, ingenuity and previously unknown talent as contortionist to seal pump outlet. Leave 12 hours and pressure test - still leaks. Repeat step four three times. Still leaks.

Step five - Remove all evidence of previous 3 days work, and go and buy large quantities of fibreglass mat, polyester resin and hardener. Man in hardware store is now becoming close friend, confidante, technical advisor and therapist.

Step six - Discover hitherto unknown even greater talent as contortionist and coat pump outlet and casing with polyester resin. Also, but inadvertently, coat inspection hatch, floor, wall panels, toilet bowl, carpet, various items of clothing, hands, arms, knees and glasses.

Step seven - Run pressure test. Success. Spend 2 hours putting aft heads back together.

There you are - it's a full life this cruising. Once the seas from this Tramontana have dies down we're off round Sardinia.