When you think you have found paradise on
an island, it’s pretty hard to move on, but move on we did…not far, really,
just a few miles north to the island of Ibiza.
We weren’t too sure we were going to like Ibiza, after all, it’s
supposed to be a ‘party island’ and we were sure there were going to be LOTS of
people, boats and every other water toy.
We headed for an anchorage that we thought
would give us some protection from the anticipated easterly winds nice and
early. It was going to be an ‘interesting’
day. Shortly after our departure from
Cala Sahon in Formentera, a charterer, who had been motoring a parallel course
just in front of us on the port side crossed our path suddenly in an attempt to
raise their sail – when Tad saluted him with his middle finger, the charterer
pointed to his sail as though that made it okay for him to almost t-bone
us! No problem, we carried on, and
decided to raise our genaker as the wind was suitable for a gentle sail. No sooner had we set the sail when the wind
began increasing dramatically to 30-plus knots from the southeast! Once again, the weather forecast was not
exactly accurate.
Nonetheless, we arrived safely a short time
later into Port Roig on the south side of Ibiza to find that there was really
no room for us to anchor, so we anchored in the cala just outside and to the
west. We found a lovely sandy bottom
with good holding and clear water, surrounded by high cliffs and a small beach,
and spent a calm night enjoying the peace and quiet, as well as the bright
starlit sky after all the ‘day-trippers’ had left.
The next day we made our way up the west
coast of Ibiza, and were treated to some stunning scenery – stark cliffs,
exquisite rock formations and some amazing architecture in the houses balanced
on the cliff tops! We checked out a
variety of calas on the way north, but none suited the predicted south to
southwesterly winds so we kept going. We
stopped and anchored for a short while on the north side of Isla Conejera
(after going around the western side of it, NOT through the middle of the two
islands which we saw a number of charterers do!), had a snorkel and some lunch,
but when the wind picked up again, we decided to find a safer anchorage.
We finally settled on Cala Bassa, which,
while crowded, had space to the east and in shallow water (thank goodness we
have a shallow draught of 1.1m which allows us access to places most sailing
boats cannot reach). By this time the
wind was gusting to 25 plus knots from the southwest and we just wanted to be
somewhere protected. It was the night of
the ‘super moon’ and as we watched it rise over the hillside, our attempts at
photography were somewhat foiled by a Swiss catamaran that had been shadowing
us all day, and finally ‘parked’ themselves right beside us that night. I guess they decided that wherever we went,
they should be able to as well!
Cala Bassa would have been a nice
anchorage, but for the loud music that came from the beach until the wee
hours. We think it was karaoke (we hope
so anyway as it was not exactly professional!!) but it was the bass of the
electronic music that worked it’s way through the hulls of our boat and into
our eardrums.
As usual for this part of the world, as we
have discovered, not long after sunset the wind died down and we had a
comfortable night’s sleep.
We had planned to spend the next couple of
days in Puerto San Antonio, a large and busy harbour as there were predicted to
be strong (30 plus knots) winds from the northeast and east over the following
days. Most harbours do not allow
anchoring, but this harbour has a fair bit of space outside the navigation
channel, and if you can get a good holding (in sand) you will be very
comfortable. Unfortunately for us, it
was a popular place for yachties and we had difficulty finding both a sandy
patch as well as space for Bisou. In the
end we dropped the hook and got a good spot – not in sand, but the anchor held
well so we stayed. We were amazed over
the next three days, to watch the inexplicable behavior of a number of yachties
of various nationalities, try and anchor far too close to other yachts, anchor
over the top of others’ anchors, etc.
And we are not just talking about charterers here! On our second day, we
had an Irish gentleman of a certain age drop his anchor and end up about 2m
from our bow! He sort-of apologized
later when he joined us at the pub for a beer and to watch a football match,
but we were both lucky that his anchor held in the strong gusts that came
through as predicted!
As with all cities and big harbours, there
are pluses and negatives: the pluses were that there was a good choice of
markets and shops to stock up. As well,
I took advantage of the fact that we were in one spot for a number of days and
got my hair done and my legs waxed!! The
pedicures have gone by the wayside.
There were also some great beachside restaurants very close to where we
anchored so we took advantage and had some very good (and inexpensive) meals
ashore. The negatives were that the
place was full of young people just there to drink, party, throw up, pass out
and do the same thing again the next day…the streets smelled of stale urine and
were sticky with spilled drinks. There
was a plethora of nightclubs, ‘supermarkets’ in which the majority of space was
occupied with shelves of cheap alcohol and snacks, and junk food
restaurants. We did find a couple of
great little chandleries and were able to get more camping gaz for our stove
and BBQ. The water was not pleasant to
swim in as it was murky and there was a perpetual diesel slick on the surface.
Are we spoiled? You bet!
We escaped from Puerto San Antonio as soon
as we were able and headed only a short hop north to Cala Salada. Convinced that it would be overrun with
day-trippers and charterers, we were pleasantly surprised to find a space and
anchored for the day and overnight. It
was a lovely little beach and we would have stayed longer but we wanted to keep
going north.
While chatting with our Irish ‘neighbour’
in Puerto San Antonio, he raved about an interesting place up the coast which
had a ‘hippy feel’ to it. He told us that there was an expensive but
delicious restaurant ashore and that on Sundays, at sunset, the ‘hippies’ would
bring out their drums and produce beautiful rhythms until long after the sun
went down. We decided that we would head
up there on Friday and stay until Monday morning, as the winds were favourable.
Another beautiful motor-sail up the west
coast of Ibiza with more stunning rock formations and cliffs, and we were at
Cala Binirras by noon. We found the
‘perfect’ anchorage close in to shore, based on the predicted winds, and
settled down for some lunch and then a refreshing swim in the crystal-clear
waters. We went ashore for a little
exploration later in the afternoon and found a market with a variety of vendors
selling hand-made clothing, jewelry, sandals, and other beautiful
products. There were several
restaurants, including “Elements” that was created by Italian-born, Ibiza
resident Kiko Malcarne. There is the
main restaurant, a juice bar and a massage area as well as a boutique and it
seems rather incongruous in a place which is literally in the middle of
nowhere.
Just before sunset, the drums started up as
a ‘practice run’ for Sunday and the crowd gathered on the beach to watch,
listen and dance. It was rather lovely
to listen to as we watched the sun set and settled down shortly afterwards.
The next day, Saturday, dawned overcast and
cooler than we had experienced since entering the Mediterranean from
Gibraltar. While some clouds had been
forecast, nothing prepared us for a sudden wind shift from the west with strong
gusts and swell from the ocean. The
yachts that were still in the anchorage struggled to adjust themselves to the
new wind direction and Tad jumped up to the helm station to start our
engines. While our anchor was holding
well, this new wind direction and swell had swung Bisou into a mooring field
just outside the swimming area and we were in danger of colliding with an inflatable
dinghy attached to one of the moorings.
In addition, we were pretty sure that a number of the charter yachts
(not to mention some of the others) were not properly anchored and we wanted to
be ready to defend our boat should someone come loose. Tad stayed at the helm with the engines running,
gently guiding Bisou for almost an hour until the winds swung back to easterly
(as predicted) and things settled down again.
A large number of the yachts took off for other anchorages, so in the
end we were only a few boats left. Later
that afternoon, we also got some rain (our first since Porto, Portugal almost 6
weeks earlier) which turned the red dust on Bisou into streaks of red mud! We had hoped that if it were going to rain,
that it would at least rain hard enough to be able to wash the boat, but no
such luck! There were no drummers that
night and in fact no one on the beach that day.
Sunday dawned clear, sunny and hot from an
early hour. We had a lazy day and took the dinghy over to Puerto San Miguel
(which is not actually a port, but a neighbouring ‘cala’ with a large beach, a
VERY large hotel, and not a few restaurants, shops, etc.) for a little look
around. Later in the afternoon we went
back to the market stalls on the beach at Binirras and I bought a hand-painted
bikini; Tad bought me a tie-died ‘coverup’ with a large “peace” sign on it –
it’s so light and comfortable, I wear it all the time! We knew we were in for a busy evening when
the yachts, motor boats, jetskis and dinghies started arriving and closing in
on us – in addition, a ferry came into the area disgorging huge numbers of
people. The beach was already packed –
we had wended our way through the mass of bodies to watch the drummers already
starting later in the afternoon, and could not even begin to imagine where all
these newcomers were going to fit!
The “Day of the Drums” began back in 1990
as a protest against the first Gulf War; prior to this, the beach had always
attracted people for “Full Moon Parties” and was a popular place for hippies
and other alternative lifestyle-seekers to hang out. The “Day of the Drums” protest lasted two
days, and thousands of people were present, beating bongos, drums and other
drum-like instruments. This afternoon,
and every Sunday afternoon, the drumming continues as a reminder of that special
event. As more and more people poured
out of ferries, dinghies and boats, the drumming reverberated around the cliffs
of the cala and we were treated to a sunset like no other. It was quite an amazing experience, except
that the drumming went on until about 3am, and the noisy, drunken revelers
returning to their boats were not really appreciated by those of us trying to
get some sleep!
Monday was our departure day, and although
we did not have a specific destination in mind (other than heading north to
find a ‘jump off’ point for our trip to Mallorca the following day), we knew we
had struck ‘paydirt’ on arrival into Cala Charraca. A beautiful, wide open bay with more
incredible rock formations, clear water and very few yachts was like paradise
after the chaos of Binirras. I was only sorry that we would only be spending
one night here. We had a wonderful day
exploring in our kayaks, snorkeling, swimming in the incredibly clear water and
a peaceful night – so much so, that we both actually woke early (before dawn)
ready to head out and make the crossing to Mallorca. So, in the dark, we weighed anchor and
motored slowly out of our last stop in Ibiza.
We expected Ibiza to be busy, crowded and
possibly not as nice as Formentera, but what we found was that the further you
got from the main ports (San Antonio and Ibiza Town), the less crowded the
anchorages were; even in the middle of August, peak season in the Med. The beaches were not as sandy but the
beautiful cliffs and rock formations more than made up for that. We didn’t get the chance to see the east
coast of Ibiza as the prevailing winds and lack of time prevented it, but
perhaps next time we pass through the Balearics, we’ll have the chance to visit
the rest of the island.
