Sicily and Italy

taormina bay

life is hard

eggy bread for brekky, yum yum

swordfish boats in Messina Straits

Vulcano

the volcanic slopes of Vulcano

Feast of the Assumption celebrations

the square in Cefalu

Cefalu from our anchorage

typical Palermo

Palermo

same to you pal !!

There is no getting away from it-Palermo is scruffy. Wonderful architecture, history, but litter litter everywhere !! Oh and the harbour stinks as well. The morning following our arrival my 'chatty man' from Club de Med turned up and summonsed me to the office. with my papers. Thats not The Daily Star and Mirror, my boat papers. Ships registration, insurance and passports with crew list. I knock on his portakabin door, he waves me in and gestures me to sit. He says something in Italian and I shrug. " Non parle Italiano, parla englezze per favore". "Non", he smiles, hands apart and palms upwards. Then he stands up and turns his back on me for a minute. He nturns back round and puts an expresso coffee in front of me. " Grazie". I hand over my papers, he hands me a form which I can now fill from memory.. He points to a chart with the nightly tariff. I nod, he nods and shrugs apologetically. He then hands me a map of Palermo and his card which informs me he is the official tourist information office !! "Supermercado ?" I enquire. His pen drops onto the map and makes a circle. He smiles. "Lavenderia ?" prompts another circle. "Bus per l'aeroporto ?". Big circle. "Grazie mille". "Prego" (thank you so much, your welcome ). We both stand up and shake hands. He repeats " prego, prego and beams a smiloe as I leave the office. It was like a sketch from the Two Ronnies but what a nice bloke. That day we explored the city. There are some stunning buildings, but there is also a lot of run downand litter strewn streets. Its a kind of faded grandeur. It is also of course the home of the 'Mafia'. Tom and Jazz left that evening. We saw them off then walked back through the city centre. We were like a couple of raggy arsed scruffs walking amongst the beautifully groomed and attired sicilians. What the hell, its tough this boating life and we can't look a million dollars all the time. We lashed out on a lovely lightweight quilt for our bed. Not that we'll use it for a while, its 36 degrees in the shade here. Our next stop was Cefalu for two nights as we sailed along the northern coast of Sicily. We anchored off the beach in 5 metres of water. The town is lovely. Very quaint, with narrow lanes and olde buildings. All dominated by a huge cathedral. It was The Feast of the Assumption religious festival when we were there and there was a large flotilla of fishing boats and various hangers on decorated with palm leaves and flowers went through the anchorage. There was a big fella on the front boat that looked like Pavarotti singing, then he gave a sermon to the crowd that had gathered on the harbour. I wish he'd had a word with the God of Wind cos that night it changed direction and blew in from the west. The anchorage became untenable. Most boats cleared out during the night, but we waited until daybreak before we upped and left. Unfortunately we never got to have a drink with a nice australian couple, Owen and Judy, that we chatted with on their boat 'Hitchhiker'. Our next stop was going to be a problem. We were heading east into strong easterly winds and choppy waves. I was unhappy about trying to get into Cap d'Orlando as according to the pilot guide it was small and very susceptible to swell from the east. I'd noticed a bay in the lee of the Cap de Millazzo which should give us shelter. It was a fair distance and I wanted to get there before dark. We made it only just. It did give us good protection but the seabed was patchy sand and boulders. Susan hung over the bows, peering into the water for a patch of sand to appear. As it did the anchor was dropped. As long as it stayed calm we would be fine but I was concerned about the chain getting wrapped around a boulder and us not being able to retieve it. It did stay calm and we left at first light without a problem. We headed for Vulcano, one of the Aeolian Islands, which are a string of volcanic islands north of Sicily. Once there we cruised close inshore where you could see where the lava had flowed down the steep cliffs to the sea., and how the trees had grown again out of volcanic ash. We arrived late morning at Porto de Ponente on the west of the island where we anchored. The crater of the volcano towered over us and was emitting smoke and steam. It was a busy anchorage but we just chilled out on the boat while the italians raced around in the dinghies at full throttle. It would have been nice to go in for a swim but the water was teeming with jellyfish.Later on Susan was dozing at the bows and I was reading a book when there was a big vibration that shook the boat, quickly followed by another. Susans head popped up, " is that our anchor dragging Andy". Then we both looked across the bay to the neighbouring island of Lipari about half a mile away. Blimey. There was smoke, fumes steam, gas whatever pouring out of the cliffs and sea at the base of the cliffs. It wa an earth tremor. Half an hour later there was a helicoptor hovering overhead, then later five Guardia patrol boats turned up. Not that they seemed to do anything except cruise through the anchorage ogling the fit young bikini clad or less young ladies. We rowed our dinghy ashore, much to the consternaion of the neighbouring italians, and walked into town. We weren't allowed in the chandelry. The proprietor, an elderly chap, just kept shouting " Terrasmoto" ( earthquake). The anchorage was packed that night and very roly poly with swell. We left at 0800hrs and motorsailed to Millazzo, which is remarkably unremarkable, except that it was expensive to moor in the marina. We left the following day. We were going to Taormina on the east of Sicily but to get there had to go through the Messina Straits where we would stay a night in the Messina marina. The straits are renowned for confused waters and currents but we had no problems as it was calm. The amazing swordfishing boats were out in force. They have a really high tower where two guys sit and watch for the swordfish resting near the surface. Then another fella goes along a very long bowsprit and harpoons them ( see piccies ). Its incredible. Susan watched on being caught through the binoculars. There are other sort of home made swordfish boats with just a ladder tied in the middle pointing skywards, very precarious, and all the time the are ferries dashing back and forwards from Italy mainland to Sicily through this armada of small boats. How none of them get mown down is a miracle. We moored in the marina, what a rip off. 80 euros a night for a very uncomfortable berth and finger pontoons that are not fit for purpose. We met a charming Italian/Australian guy called Marcello on the boat next door. He was a geologist and lived on his boat and simply sailed arond Italy or Croatia doing work. We left mid morning the following day. There was a wind blowing from the north straight down the starits and there were no swordfish boats in sight. We headed south and as we did the wind increased. We had 30 knots behind us and we were riding waves down the straits. Susan was not happy and I must admit to being a little nervous myself. I had never experienced this situation before. I knocked to the autopilot of and manual steered. The waves try and twist your boat around and turn you sideways on. I slowly seemed to get the knack and controlling it just by the feel of the rudder against wave resistance. I dont know if this is how it should be done but it worked for us and after a couple of hours the wind and waves abated slightly. We arrived at Toarmina where we turned into the protection of the bay. The was quite of few boats in and three superyachts. One of which had a sailing boat bertheed on its port side, a motorboat berthed on its starboard side and a helicoptor on the back. We dropped the anchore near to a boat flying the flag of Eire. We waved and called hello and there was a chorus of hellos back. It was a family on board and half an hour later they swam across to say hello again. We nattered for some time and they invited us across to their boat for a drink. Paul and Lucina O'Sullvan and their family Oisin, Fiachra, Saoirse and Feargal had been living aboard for a yaer and had sailed from S. Ireland. We had a lovely evening and Paul tempted Susan and I with a few Jamesons to finish the night off. We traded contact details and promised to keep in touch. The following morning we got up to wave them off at 0600hrs. We later weighed anchor ourselves and sailed the short distance down to Riposto marina which should be known as Rip-off-so. This place took the biscuit at 96, yes 96 euros a night. However, we needed to do a couple of jobs, fuel up and stock up before heading to mainland Italy so it served our purpose going in. Apart from the exorbitant cost it is actually a good place with two good chandelries and a supermarket that offers discount to boaties and delivers to your boat ( a godsend when you want lots of drinking water ). Another early start the next day. Up at 0500 and out by 0600. Next stop was Roccella Ionica on mainland Italy. Susan admitted to being a little nervous after the rollercoaster ride we had through the straits but conditions were good and we had a pleasant trip across. There was quite a bit of big commercial traffic early on coming or going from the straits but it quietened off. I saw a turtle swim past, how cute they are. It was a long day and we arrived about 1630hrs. We were greeted by Harold, a norwegian guy on the next berth. It was 20 euros a night with free water but no electric. Excellent. We instantly liked Roccella. The Guardia were very laid back with the paperwork and there was free bike hire. There was a good atmoshere to the place with everyone either coming from or going to Greece. A restaurant at the edge of the harbour was busy laying tables. Loads and loads of them. Their a bit optomistic I thought. That night it was packed, I couldn't believe it. Harold said it was like that every night, and it was. They could seat 1300 people and every night it was full. Now that is what you call good business. Its served mainly fish or pizzas which came by the metre. We went on our second night and enjoyed it. Get this though. As we were walking down the harbour we were approached by a group, two men and two women. They made polite conversation, asking where we were from and where we were going. They then said " no doubt you know who we are". "no" says I with my usual blank expression. "We are Jehovahs Witnesses". Well blow me over and whistle dixie, I would never have guessed that one. I didn't know they got this far south I said later to Susan. Anyway, we chatted for a bit longer about sailingy things and we shook hands and moved on. We stayed three nights in Roccella Ionica and could have stayed longer but we were watching for the right weather to move on. When it came we took the opportunity to go. We'd had a text from the O'Sullivans to say they were in La Castella so we said we'd see them there. They sorted out a berth for us in advance and as we arrived were on the quay to take first our photos and then our ropes. We had supper with them that night and this time Paul broke out the Bushmills. The family moved on the following afternoon for to get to Levkas in Greece in a one trip.We chilled out in La Castella for two nights. We had a few concerns about a knocking we had heard on the prop, or thats where we thought it was from. I tried going under the boat in the harbour but the water was so murky I could not see a thing. The area outside the harbour for some considerable distance is a marine reserve and we could not anchor there so we decided to move on to Crotone and anchor outside the harbour. The trip to Crotone had the inevitable wind on the nose and was a bit bumpy but fine. We had been given the number of a guy called Frederico who could arrange a berth in Crotone and would not rip you off. We rang him and he spoke good english. He said he could fit us in and to ring again as we arrived. We anchored off the beach first and I had a dive under the boat. Everything seemed fine which in one way was good and another bad, as we still did not know where the noise was from. We rang Frederico and he gave us instructions. Go between the yellow boat and the pink boat at the top of the harbour and I will tell the men to see you. As promised two guys where waiting and we squeezed in. Water pipe handed on, electric connected up for us, spot on. Frederico came round later and asked for 25 euros. A bargain. We heard later people were charged a minimum of 40 and others considerably more. We had a stroll around town then spent the evening on the boat chatting to other brits as they walked to and from their boats. We left early the next morning and as we did so noticed that a brit Moody 54 and Bavaria 46 which were moored further up the harbour had already left. As we cleared the harbour we saw their masts about a mile out on the same course as ourselves. " Bet I know where they are going, Santa Maria de Leuca, same as us ". There was no wind and we motored the 78 miles across to the heel of Italy. A pod of dolphins joined us for a while which was nice. Otherwise, we read and chatted and had a game of scrabble. Santa Maria was bedlam when we arrived. There were lots of little boats charging in all directions. Our calls to the marina on channel 9 ( as the book tells you ) and 16 met with silence. As we entered the harbour a big sign said CHANNEL 12. So I called on that. Still silence. I was just eyeing up a decent berth when a marinero popped up and directed us to another berth which was near the entrance and very roly. Not good. I went to check on and it was 50 euros. I asked where the showers were, " over there, but they do not work" was the reply. " Do you have internet", "yes, you go in the internet room and pay them there". What a rip off. I was still fizzing as I walked back to the boat when I heard "are you Curly Sue" ( you get used to it, honest). A guy sitting on the Bavaria 46 that we had followed across waved. "Drinks on here tonight if your interested". "Thanks very much, we'll be down in a few minutes" We wandered down and joined them. Dave and Sue from the Bavaria named Scath and Dennis and Sadie from the Mooody 54 Graceful. We had a lovely evening chatting with them, sipping G & T and winding down. They invited us to cross to Greece with them the following day which we were happy to do. It would be different travelling with other boats. It was a roly night in Santa Maria and we were glad when morning arrived. We left at 0800hrs as part of a little flotilla. We had a fantastic trip across. A beam reach and wind in our sails. We headed for Ericousa which is a small island north of Corfu. The greek courtesy flag was hoisted halfway across and we were feeling quite elated with nearing our destination. We arrived in Ericousa bay about 1700hrs and went for a swim. "bloody hell, that waters cold, I'm going home again". " Drinks on our boat at 6.30" Dennis shouted across,"I'll pick you up in our dinghy" called Dave. " OK, I'll stay then ". Another thoroughly enjoyable night in good company followed by another roly night at anchor. But it did not matter because the next morning we were bound for Corfu.

Escape from Mahon

Up before the sun and the anchor lifted at 0615. It was a beautiful still morning. Two other yachts who had also been waiting for the right weather left as we did. Once clear of the headland there was still a considerable swell coming down from the north. Remnants of storms in the Gulf of Lions, but a lot better than the rolling white tops of the previous few days. We adopted a three hour watch system, Susan and I together thenTom and Jazz together. Jazz had never been on a yacht before so this would be quite a test for her., but Tom would keep her right. For some reason both Susan and I both felt a little anxious but when we talked it over we could not decide why. Maybe it was leaving the familiarity of Spain for the unknown of Sardinia/Sicily and Italy.........who knows. That night it was the most amazing starry night, you almost felt like you could reach out and touch them, they were so big. The swell was still with us so it was not the most comfortable night as we rolled along. However during the night watch there was a sobering call on the VHF. A mayday relay ( a shore station passing on details of a mayday from a vessel ) that a french yacht had lost a man overboard and to keep a sharp lookout.. The message carried on periodically into the morning. They had not found him. It certainly makes you reflect a little. We always wear lifejackets and lifelines on deck at night and this is the reason. It only takes a stumble and you can be over the side. At night you have very little chance of being recovered as has happened with this poor guy.
By morning the swell had all but gone and it was glorious sunshine. During the night two squid had landed on deck and left their inky marks which is a bugger to get off. We could now see the island west of Sardinia in the far distance. That afternoon we were treated to the most amazing dolphin performance ever.One dolphin, obviously attracted by our blaring music, came and swam under our bows, spinning, spouting up at us, grinning at us, waiting for us to catch up them like a gane of chasey.....amazing. Jazz had never seen a dolphin in the wild before and this was some introduction. We arrived at Marina de Capitana near Cagliari in the darkness of the late evening. It was difficlut to spot the navigation lights to lead us in as there was a disco on the shore with flashing green and red lights.....very helpful. We slowly edged in and once inside found a berth. It was very lively and Tom, Susan and I headed for the bar but Jazz was so knackered that she just went to bed. Next morning we had no time for sight seeing. A quick visit to the supermarket, top up the fuel tanks and away. Once out the wind was favourable. Full sails were out and and we were cracking alomh at 7 knots ( with a bit of Yanmar to help out ).On we sailed into the night. During our night shift Tom got up and was sleepwalking...yikes! Susan closed the wheelhouse door and he just flopped back into bed thank goodness. Next morning, surprise surprise it was a lovely sunny calm morning. We had a hearty brecky of sausages and eggy bread. The small islands west of Sicily were now in view but it took an age to close on them. I prepared a crib sheet in italian for when I call in to request a berth. We had a pleasant motor sail along the north of Sicily but the wind was dropping as was our speed. I called in to a marina in Palermo but they were full. " Try club mediterraneo" . I did. He spoke no English so I put my crib sheet to the test. "Ci" and the phone went down. "Well, I think we're in there". Again it was dark as we entered port. Palermo is a busy commercial port and you must lookout for fast ferries and other big stuff. We found club med., slid into our berth and tied her off. We'd made it with 24 hours to spare. Mahon to Sicily via Sardinia, 500 nautical miles. Jazz had done ever so well. She had not suffered the dreaded 'mal de mar' and had even gone into the galley to help prepare meals whilst at sea. No mean feat. We quickly spruced up and headed out, avoiding the streetwalker strutting on the corner ( real classy ) and found a restaurant where we raised our glasses to a good trip and friendship.

Stormbound in Mahon

Tom Auckland and his girlfriend, Jasmine ( Jazz ) were flying to join us on Monday for the trips to Sardinia and Sicily. The day before they arrived we just chilled out in the anchorage and prepared for them arriving. We had stocked up with food in Alcudia as we know Tom is very food of his grub. Whilst we were checking the engine there was a knock on the side of the boat. A nice man called Alberto was taking orders for groceries that he would deliver to the boat the following day for a delivery charge of 2euros. Deal, he got an order, and he had a good chat with him. That evening we went for a spin in the dinghy but much to my disgust we ran out of fuel and I had to row back. Susan sang, apparently to encourage me. It worked. The faster I rowed, the less time I had to suffer her singing ( sorry Susan ). We checked the weather again for the trip to Sardinia. It did not look good. Things were lively up in the Gulf of Lions and the northerlies were bringing it all down to us. Big seas were due. Next day Alberto arrived with our groceries and we then up anchored and went across the harbour to collect Tom and Jazz. There is virtually nowhere to berth and when we spotted them on the quay we literally went alongside, no ropes, they jumped on, then out again before we were spotted by the harbour patrol. We then went for fuel. There is only one fuel pontoon in Mahon and all the superyachts go to it for a top up of 5000+ litres. We were fourth in the queue and circled for two hours till we got in, but I like to run with full tanks so it had to be done. We went back to Teleura and re-anchored. Decision time. Go now and try and beat the weather or sit tight. Decision made to sit tight. This was a wise move as that night it began brewing up nicely. It was now looking like Thursday or Friday before the weather was right for us to go so we just had to settle in for the wait. Jazz was really nice and we all got on well. The rest of the week was spent watching the weather, doing dinghy trips, swimming, lounging around and reading. Very arduous. Tom decided to try his hand at fishing so we dinghied across the harbour to Es Castell where he bought some hooks and line in 'the chinese shop' ( remember them ). After a few attempts to perfect his technique he reeled in six big ones!! Well, big ones for sardines that is.....unfortunately we had already eaten, so he cooked them and ate them himself, although we did help him out a bit. We had two mornings of very heavy rain but each time it cleared by mid afternoon. One evening we all went across in the dinghy to Es Castell for a meal (see piccy). Four in a three man dinghy was fun across the choppy harbour. The trip takes about 12-15minutes depending on how much traffic you have to try to avoid. Es Castell is a beautiful fishing harbour, very picturesque. We had a pleasant meal then dinghied back in the dark with Susan at the bow with the olympic torch held aloft to guide the way ( and to stop big stuff cleaning us up ).

The weather forecast was still not good. We put departure back to Saturday, bearing in mind that Tom and Jazz were due to fly home from Sicily on the following Wednesday, it was starting to get tight.On the Friday Susan and I checked out the old fort on the headland which was an amazing piece of construction, although obsolete by the time it was built. Tom and Jazz had a better time watching a three way international incident when an italian motor boat caused a french boat to drag its anchor with nobody aboard. The owners rushed back in their dinghy just in time to stop their boat crashing into a german boat. The german lady ( who we got on well with ) then boarded the frenchies and a slanging match ensued. The italians sneaked away to hide, but the frenchies spotted them and once under control, chased after them and boarded them.....cue more heated exchanges and arm flailing!!!! Its been quite funny because a lot of the people on the boats around us think that we are a family. They say to Tom, " is your father on the boat ", he hasn't tried to explain, its probably easier.

Friday night and the forecast was good for an early departure in the morning so we had a drink to that. 270 miles to Cagliari, Sardinia, lets do it.

The hoiliday is over

So our holiday on Majorca with the family was over. Time to press on. Whilst in Santa Ponsa a guy stopped to admire 'Curly' ( the boat, not Susan ). We chatted for a while and he asked where we were going next. We said Palma but that it was expensive. " I have a berth in Club de Mar, Palma, you can use it for a couple of nights if you wish". How very kind ! So the next day we set off for berth 5018, at the exclusive Club de Mar. The marina was huge and full of super yachts when we arrived. We found 5018 and as we reversed into the berth a marinero appeared on his Vespa scooter. " Not possible", "Move, move ". We ignored him until we'd finished tying up then I went across. " I have permission from the owner, Tony Orly. " " You move, not possible you stay here". It was not until I mentioned " I speak with Matteo ( the managers name )" that things looked up. Using the marineros phone I spoke to Matteo who was very nice but insistent that he needed authority. I rang Santa Ponsa, asked them to ring Tony and ask him to ring Matteo and give permission. By the time I got into Matteos air conditioned office it was sorted. "Welcome Mr Mills, a pleasure to meet you " The maintenance man then came to hook us up to shore power. Big Mistake. He disconnected our plug end and rewired and bigger one on, then left. It all worked ok. The problem comes later. The following morning our friend Shirley, who is a yacht broker in Palma came to see us. " you jammy beggars, getting a freebie in Club de Mar. Its 130 euros a night" Not bloody worth it says I. Still, it was great to have a chin wag with Shirley. As we left the boat Susan nearly fell in the harbour as she attempted an assisted leap from boat to quay, only to be saved by Shirley and me from slithering into the drink !! Shirley then kindly gave us a lift to a ferreteria ( hardware shop ) for another camping gaz bottle. So now we have three. Shirley then gave us a lift back and mentioned the possibility of me doing some work as there representative in Greece. No problem says I. I'm ready for a new part time job. We got some fuel additive delivered to us on the quay by a company called Bosuns locker who are three brit guys. Very good service and prices. We were leaving the following day so we asked to be disconnected from the shore power. Mr Grumpy to do it. Huffio Puffio !! Next day we moved on after being stung for 30euros for the connect and disconnect job. Wot a con. We had a lovely trip around to Porto Petro which was recommended to us by Terry and Emma. It certainly is beautiful. It was a hot still afternoon when we arrived and quite idyllic. There are mooring buoys here so we promptly hooked onto one. We we just settling down when the 'man in the red rib' came and told us the one we were on was already booked. We had to move. But he kindly let us go on another across the bay. That night was gorgeous, with a full moon overhead, you did not want to go to bed. Bliss. Next day was our 35th wedding anniversary! and here we were living 'our dream'. It was a beatuful calm sunny morning as we set off for an anchorage near Alcudia. However as the day progressed dark skies appeared and the swell increased. As we rounded the headland off Ratjada the swell increased even more. Anchoring was now out of the question. We had two choices, go back 3+hrs or press on. He kept going and were met by a flotilla of boats going the opposite way. Did they know something we suspected? Then the rain, monsoon started. My god, did it rain. Visiblility was no more than 150 metres. £pm and we had nav lights and radar on. We had retreated into the wheelhouse but I still managed a few ariel acrobatics whilst reefing the mainsail. We decided to run for cover into Alcudia marina, but they would not answer radio or phone. We still went in and the marineros spotted us. Apparently it was a fiesta day so all the office staff had gone home. Hence no answer. We moored next to some brits who were sunning themselves. "Whats it like out there?" they asked, " Bloody awful" we replied as we cracked off the layer of salt. " Yeh, someone else said that earlier " Happy Anniversary Dear !!! We had some good chat with some resident brits who recommended the internet site Meteo france who do an excellent weather bulletin daily. Vastly superior to anything the spanish do. Alcudia is a good marina, I can understand why people use it to overwinter. We walked to Old Alcudia which is a fascinating town inland. A labyrinth of alleyways and restored city walls ( yeh, a bit like Carlisle, but then again ...).
Leaving Majorca behind us we set off for Minorca and Cala Maccarella, where our dream of living on a boat first started. It wa 45 miles across and we had a lovely trip over. We arrived at Maccarella at 1700hrs and it was busy. We found a place to drop the hook and once the day boats had left the place seemed less frantic. That night we put on Enya-Paint the Sky with stars on the ipod, it was a special moment for us, something we had talked about for a long time. Next morning we went exploring in the dinghy around the coves and caves. I swam round Curly giving her waterline a scrub as I went. All very relaxing. After a couple of nights we moved on to a narrow cala called Biniparratx. This was a good one night stopover, we then moved on towards Mahon. We intended anchoring in San Esteve but when we got there realised it was just too busy and narrow. We went into Mahon and after a lap of the harbour dropped the anchor in Cala Teleura, behind the island. Our first attempt went badly wrong. We dropped in plenty depth but the wind changed and swung us into shallows. We grounded. Arghhh!!! Plenty revs and a blast of bowthruster got us off and saved our embarrasement. We re-anchored in much deeper water. Susan had been feeling a bit homesick and missing the little ones so I rang the kids and chatted with them on loudspeaker with Susan listening. They were all on fine form and Susan felt much better after it ( she did not want to talk incase she got upset ).

We're going to Majorca for our 'olidays

After a slightly worrying night we were up early and lifted the anchor on sunrise. It was a beautiful morning as we left mainland Spain for the crossong to Ibiza. It was a long haul and the early start was essential. What a fantastic crossong we had. Dolphins paid us a visit and we saw a swordfish leap right out of the water, not that far away from a fishing boat. It was almost is if it was mocking them ! As we approached Ibiza we realised the inevitable. No more empty seas. Yachts, superyachts, speedboats galore. We negiated the Freu Grande which is the channel between Ibiza and Formentera. You have to be careful of the depths and make sure you don't stray wrong side of the cardinal marks ( buoys that mark hazards ). Once through we headed up the east side of the island to find an anchorage for the night. We had no intention of going in a marina with fees like 120 euros a night in Ibiza town. Sod that for a game of soldiers !! We found a good anchorage in a bay opposite the island of Tacomago, which was a good jumping off point for the next days trip to Majorca. We would have liked to spend more time, obviously in Ibiza, but we had to be in Santa Ponsa for Joanne,Martin, Lucy and Thomas arriving on their holiday. We were so looking forward to seeing them.

No dragging anchors during the night and another early start in the morning. Eggy bread for brekky at sea, what beats that ? ( Ok, don't start ). It was another cracking trip, with a few moments of interest when the ferry Martin Soller was bearing down on us at 22 knots. I called him up twice on channel 16 but got no reply, but a minute or so later he changed course, so all was well. I had booked a berth in Santa Ponsa marina ( much to Susans disgust ) as I had concerns about taking the little ones to the boat in a dinghy if we were anchored. It cost an arm and a leg but I'm still happy with the decision but my wallet is a lot lighter ! On checking in with Jane at the marina I turned on the charm ( oooohhhh yesh ) and she changed our berth to one more convenient for the the family walking to and fro from town, which was really nice of her. The marina was very picturesque and quiet, although full of boats ( just nobody on them ). Joanne and the family arrived later that evening. We walked to their apartment and took them a few essential supplies. The apartment and complex was really nice which was a relief for us all. It was great to see them all, big hugs alround ! We went out for a meal and made plans for the week ahead.

We had another pressing engagement in Santa Ponsa......a blind date with a couple called Terry and Emma. I had been keeping in touch with Terry via e-mail after stumbling across him on a internet sailing forum and bombarding him with questions but of course we did not know each other. They had sailed out to Greece on a similar route to ourselves last year and were now heading west again with a view to crossing the Atlantic later this year. They were arriving in Santa Ponsa the following day. After a few texts and calls ( "what bar did you say", "Where's that") we tracked them down and had a good natter. We had a good night and saw them a couple more times during the week. They visited us for morning coffee and we dinghied to their boat Libertine, an Oyster 39 ketch which was anchored in the harbour for a barbecue. You meet the nicest people doing this sailing mularky.

Joanne and co had settled in now for the week. The tiddlers were loving the swimming pool and staying up late at night. It was a lovely week with them and like a holiday for us. They did come out on the boat once but it wasn't a raging success. Their still a bit too small for it, but still, they did go out and Gran and Grandads boat. We spent a lot of time at the complex with Jo and co. but always bought two big containers of water to carry back to the boat to stock up for the next leg. I'm sure my arms are getting longer. Before we knew it the week was over and time for them to go home. I said this the last time when Rebecca and Chris left us in Lagos, but its a really strange feeling when your family leave you in another country to fly home. Susan had a few tears and that was that, but lots of happy memories, ( Lucy loving the parrot show, water fights with their squirters in the pool, ) .

Time to move on.

Stormbound in San Jose

San Jose must go on record as being one of the worst, if not the worst mooring we have experienced to date. The wind was howling through the marina, beam on to the boat. Curly was constantly 'snatching' at her ropes as the wind tried to push her onto the concrete quay. We doubled up the ropes on the bows, and put an extra hitch on the slime line onto the other cleat to try and steady things. It all held but made for a very uncomfortable time. The town itself is actually quite nice. No english voices and beautiful views. It is a very popular resort with the spanish. We all went to a restaurant at night for a meal and watch the Spain-Germany game. Good atmosphere, but somewhat let down by my uncooked pork. We complained and they did not charge us for it. Did I say no english voices, we met an english couple in the restaurant that lived there. God, the buggers get everywhere, don't they!!

I was going mad with the berth in the marina and started making plans to get out, which would be tricky. Next morning we got up very early and the wind had dropped slightly. That was our chance. Out and away. We moved up first to a town called Garrucha then on to Aguilas. No, I had never heard of them either, but they are both quite nice. Lovely beaches, where spanish families play until sundown. They have volleyball courts, football pitches and al sorts of other activities going on, on the beaches. Its great. We enjoyed both stops. Berths were ok, loos etc pretty ropey tho'. I bought a 18inch Stilson wrench in a 'chinese shop' for 9.50euros. I was well pleased. They have these chinese shops in loads of the towns. They are like bazaars that stock everything imaginable, and are surprisingly run by chinese people, hence the name they are given by everybody.

We then had a pleasant run up to Cartegena where we had the luxury of an 'alongside' mooring. Oh man that was nice. What a fascinating city this is. Magnificent buildings, but when you get into the back streets some of them are literally hollow shells. The staff at this marina are second to none. Unfortunately it was the last stop for Mick and Julia and this was handy for the airport. One of the marina staff gave them a lift to save the exorbitant taxi fare. Not bad eh ! It was lovely to see Mick and Julia and a little sad to say goodbye, we really enjoyed their company. We met them a couple of years ago on a sailing holiday in Greece and have been friends since. Awesome. We skyped home then watchedSpain win the world cup from the comfort of a restaurant in Cartegena. The town went mad, it sounded like a battle had started with all the firecrackers. We left the following day and moved on to Torrevieja. We did not like this marina although some staff were fine. Its massive and soulless. The pontoons are low and our bow is high. Susan was not a happy bunny walking the plank ( boarding Plank that is ) here. It was more like a playground slide mind. We got some supplies ( mega pricey ) and were at sea at 7.30am the following day. Won't be back there in a hurry. We were hoping to anchor at El Riconet but the sea and wind conspired against us. Towards the end of the afternoon the wind changed and we decided to go around the headland to get into a sheltered anchorage. mmmm......not good. It wa starting to kick up a bit now. we tried anound the headland but it was so deep close in, and the wind gusting strongly that it wa untenable. We pressed on to Javea. I was on the phone to Javea marina when Susan suggested " lets have a look over there ". We got tucked into the corner of Javea bay and dropped the hook. There were a load of day boats there but they upped and left as the sun went down. I was worried about the anchor dragging and set two anchor alarms. It did drag and the alarms went off, but we got through the night, although with very little sleep. We raised a new spanish flag for the Balearics and we set off to Ibiza.