The sky was full of stars by night and clear blue by day , the sea was calm and the beach and its surrounding natural park deserted and beautiful. Only one other boat stayed had overnight and they were anchored at the other end of the bay. This was a perfect anchorage for us and in the morning we had decided to stay another day (or two or three or until the food ran out..) but then the guy from the other boat came over in his dinghy and helpfully asked if we had picked up a weather forecast. We had looked up at the clear blue sky, had put a finger in the air to test to wind but no, we had not seen a proper forecast for several days. We had lazily given up checking the navtext screen as it was always full of dire warnings of buoys adrift 500 miles away or Italian submarine exercises again 400 or so miles away and of no relevance to us. Buried in pages of this irrelevant information there was occasionally a weather forecast from Rome telling us that the weather was hot and sunny in Italy(!).

Our new friend told us that the dreaded `tramontana` (strong north or northwesterly wind) was coming – (the very word spoken in hushed whispers with a quick look over his shoulder in case the wind had sneaked up on him and was about to whisk him in to the air and off to the land of Oz) and we should get off this coast and round to the south side of the island where we would be sheltered from harm. He said he was also making his escape shortly to the southern anchorages. We did briefly wonder if he had told us this to make us leave so he could have the whole place to himself but that was an injustice to our Spanish friend as there was indeed a warning of strong, even gale force, winds coming from the north or northwest buried in the navtex trivia....

So we upped anchor and hoisted the sails expecting a fast and exciting if hairy sail. Our Spanish friend had suggested Cabo Covas was a lovely anchorage to go to on the south and as that was about 30 miles away we should be there in about 5 or 6 hours. … 3 hours later we were sailing slowly downwind and had covered about 10 miles. This was going to be a long day. We seemed to be part of a flotilla of yachts of all shapes and sizes and all sailing away from the north of the island. Obviously other people check their weather forecasts or else the news had spread quickly on the water. It looked like the southern anchorages were going to be busy and their shops were in for a profitable time.

Pretty uneventful passage, we passed the entrance to Mahon where quite a lot of the flotilla went in but we pushed on along the south coast. At first we thought it was not as pretty or unspoilt as the north as it was quite developed along the coast near Mahon ( very minor buildings though compared to mainland Spain). We were feeling a bit disgruntled at having left our lovely deserted northern anchorage and endured a painfully slow sail to the south as the wind was light and still blowing from the south. Unless it changed to the north as forecast the south coast was not going to a comfortable place to be. The only highlight of the day was a sighting of 4 or 5 dolphins playing quite close to the boat. This was our first dolphin encounter for a week or so and I never stop being excited to see them..

As we left Mahon behind, the coast became unspoilt and more interesting. The cliffs are not so high as in the north but full of caves and ho
les where the sea swirls in and breaks. It was quite an unforgiving looking coast with no large bays to anchor in, only narrow indentations in the coast with high rocky sides …. and not even many of those. It reminded us of the Dorset coastline between Poole and Weymouth. Lovely as long as you don`t want to stop. We finally got to Cala Covas and motored in to anchor (we had given up trying to sail in the non existent wind) but we didn’t like it all all and motored out faster than we went in. It was crowded with boats, very rocky and there was a lot of litter floating in the water. It was getting late and our choices for an overnight stop were becoming limited. In fact, the choice was to stop in the next Cala or motor for an hour or so in a very choppy, lumpy sea to the next possible anchorage. The next cala was only a mile away so we hopefully motored in.

At least there was no litter and although the sides were still rocky and high at least it was wider than Cala Covas. Despite how busy it looked we decided there had to be room for us and we were staying regardless . Avoiding pedalos, swimmers in the water and weaving our way through the other boats and their anchor triplines we anchored close to the beach and right in the pedalo channel. We were past caring and settled down for the night. We were rocking and rolling as the waves were coming straight in to the anchorage driven by the southerly wind. We decided that the most scary thing so far about the Tramontana was its name and its reputation... We went to bed.

I woke up with a start about 4am – Martyn was already up on deck and the wind was screaming(at least I think it was the wind!. ) It had indeed gone round to the north with vengeance. We had swung away from the pedalo channel buoys and our anchor was holding well. The noise that woken me, I think, was the engine of the Italian motorboat next to us who trying to re anchor and being blown towards the rocks every time he took the power off. It was dark, very windy and it must have been terrifying on that boat. We really felt for them but there was nothing we could do but watch and send out good vibes. Eventually they got the anchor to hold – not quite where they wanted to be but ,as we all know, in those situations you are just so glad to get the anchor in and holding anywhere. A French yacht who had been anchored a little way out in the bay, and who we had passed on the way in, decided they were too far out and came in quite close to us and the Italian motorboat. They tried in vain 3 times to get their anchor to hold but it was getting too dangerous to keep trying as there was so little space to manoeuvre and the wind was catching them every time. It is an awful feeling as your boat is taken by the wind and you are completely out of control and at the mercy of the elements. Especially when it is dark and the rocks seem closer and bigger than they really are. They gave up and headed out to sea, to sit it out, or at least wait until morning. It was the right decision but it must have been tough on that boat. I hope they didn’t have little children on board... We didn’t see them again but I am sure they were fine.

We stayed on deck until it got light – on every other boat in the cala everyone was also up on deck hoping they would hold firm. As ever our anchor just dug in deeper and deeper and Gemini took care of us again. We finally went back to bed about 7am with the wind still blowing hard but confident we were holding well and weren’t going anywhere.

When we got up it was time to take stock of the surroundings as it looked like we were going to be here for a while. All the other boats were going to have to stay,too, so this was going to be an interesting few days observing our neighbours, living closely in a tight anchorage with too many boats and a exercise in international relations....