June 24, 2019
Our first night sleeping on anchor alone was a bit nervey for both of us. I'm never 100% at ease sleeping on anchor, as there is always the possibility the anchor drags or gets tripped by another boat, and if you are dead asleep while your boat is drifting towards the rocks, well...that is not good. So yeah, it's tricky to fall into a deep peaceful sleep in that scenario. We felt fairly confident we were well-dug but were still a little apprehensive, as it was our first night alone on the boat. Everything that happens from here is 100% our responsibility, including ensuring our anchor doesn't drag in the dead of night. I slept with one eye open and with both ears open listening for the anchor alarm to go off. Between the 2 of us, we got up to check it more than a few times. I have to hope we get more comfortable with sleeping on anchor, as it will otherwise make for a long and sleep-deprived adventure.
We spent the next couple days on Ibiza trying to chill out. We had to up anchor and move once, as we discovered we'd inadvertently anchored on sea grass, which is frowned upon by Spanish authorities. But other than that, we were happy to leave the boat where she was and go ashore to enjoy the island a bit - away from stresses of boat life! We spent a glorious day at Beachouse, our favourite beach club on the island, where our good friends very generously offered to pay for our lunch as a wedding gift and encouraged us to indulge. You know what they say, don't look a gift horse in the mouth! A bottle of chabis, some seafood, and a whole lot of basking in the sun went down like a treat, and it was the first time we had properly relaxed in months. We were somewhat surprised when the bill came and it was significantly higher than we'd anticipated... What had we done? Turns out, they'd cheekily charged us for a EUR250 bottle of wine when we'd ordered a EUR50 one. Nice one, guys. Aside from that, it was a really lovely honey-afternoon. Thank you, Deji and Sian!
After a couple of days in the anchorage, it was time to move on and to try our luck on our first solo sail on Florence. We decided to start with baby steps and to sail the 15 nautical miles or so to the small island just south of Ibiza called Formentera, often referred to as Ibiza's little sister. Formentera, although becoming more sceney in recent years, is much less crowded and hectic than Ibiza, in no small part because it's only reachable by boat. Stephen and I had chartered a boat there before, but our experience of the island was limited to a brief stop on the main beach for some lunch before returning to Ibiza. We were excited to dig in a little deeper and see what the island was really about. But first, we'd have to get there. Weighing anchor was smooth, as was our initial pilotage out to sea. We got the sails out and enjoyed a leisurely 2 hour sail down to Formentera, aiming for an anchorage that had been recommended to us by a fellow sailor that was supposedly pretty well-protected from anything other than a southerly wind.
Even this short and relatively simple sail I think was an important confidence booster for us. Apparently we can do this on our own! We made it to Cala Saona on the southeastern side of the small island and managed to find a nice patch of sand to stick the hook. There was a bit of chop in the anchorage, but it seemed it would do. Next order of business was to figure out how to get to shore. It's always a bit of a mystery when you enter a new bay as to how you will get the dinghy ashore. How far will you have to anchor from the shore, will there be a dinghy dock, and if so is it public or private? I got a message from some friends from New York who by chance happened to be in Formentera at a place called Beso Beach, so we wanted to see if we could catch them. Into the dinghy we went on our reconnaissance mission to try to get ashore. Alas, there was no dinghy dock, but there was a large beach in front of a resort complex, and it seemed we might be able to hop out in water shallow enough to drag the dinghy up onto the beach. It ended up being a wet affair, and I was soaked from the waist down looking as if I'd had some egregious accident, but that's boat life for you. You are always a bit damp and salty. We got the dinghy up onto the beach without being reproached by lifeguards or hotel staff, so we figured it would be OK to leave it there. A short taxi ride took us to Beso Beach, where thankfully our friends hadn't given up on us yet. A couple quick drinks there, and it was time to get back to Flo. It was actually weirdly fun dragging Rum Jumby back out into the water and figuring out how to hurdle our wet bodies in and get the engine started once there was enough depth. A lot of boat life we are learning is just improvising and trying to solve problems on the fly. Sometimes it's hugely frustrating, and sometimes it's exciting and rewarding. We ate homemade fish tacos in the cockpit under the stars that night, enjoying our first night in Formentera.
The wind decided to kick up that night to an uncomfortable level. Classic and I took turns going out on deck to make sure our anchor was still held and that other boats weren't getting too close. There was one boat that had anchored uncomfortably close to us and was giving us additional unrest. When we thought we were safe and had fallen back asleep, the anchor alarm went off, blaring loudly from the nav station. What the hell? Either we were dragging or the wind had shifted enough to pull our boat out of the anchor radius we'd set the alarm to. We checked the chain and it wasn't rumbling, so perhaps we had re-dug? We tried to check our transits, but it was hard to do in the dark. Sunrise was in about an hour, so we waited tensely until the sun peeked out and the wind thankfully died down before going back below deck to try to catch another hour of sleep. We awoke to an anchorage that had gone from being relatively quiet to absolutely lousy with super yachts and boats of all kinds, many of whom seemed to be having absolute shockers with their anchors and not inspiring a lot of confidence as Florence got more and more boxed in. That's advice we had heard from numerous sailors about the Med - if you know what your'e doing, it's not your anchor you have to be worried about, it's other boats dragging or tripping your own. Even if you know you are well-dug, you never know who is going to try to anchor too close to you and potentially cause you all kinds of problems (especially if you don't happen to be on the boat at the time and can't rectify the issue!)
The morning however was glorious and a perfect day to...clean the boat! Stephen and I are learning that keeping a boat clean, inside and out, is an ongoing and very sweaty task. There is always something that needs to be cleaned, whether it's the deck, the topsides, the stainless steel, the wood interiors, and don't forget what lurks beneath those floorboards! That was my happy task for the day. Being on my hands and knees below deck for several hours scrubbing the grime from our bilges made for a bit of a low day. The relentless heatwave oppressing most of Europe didn't make the task any easier. We are learning more each day that while boat life has amazing benefits and gives you a freedom to move your home to different locations as you please, it is a compromise in that you never have the opportunity to 100% relax. There is always work to be done on the boat, something that isn't working properly, and you are always at the mercy of the wind and weather. Still, I think Stephen and I were both trying hard and doing our best to rise to the challenge of self-sufficiency that boat life demands.
That afternoon, dirty and slightly irritable, we decided we had earned a late lunch. Keen to learn more about the island than the one stretch of sand we'd experienced, we did some research over coffee and learned there was a lot more to this little island than we were aware. While small and relatively uncrowded, there are several different beaches to explore and a few small towns that looked lively and interesting. We found a beach on the south side of the island and had lunch at a place called Beach Club 10.7. It was amazing - a handful of white tables under a veranda overlooking the water, significantly less crowded / wanky / expensive than anything we'd seen on Ibiza. Eating some prawns and sipping rose, we were quickly becoming fans of this little island.
After lunch, we went on a long walk up and down the sandy beach before returning to our anchorage. We weren't ready to call it a day just yet, so we found this adorable beach shack sitting right on the edge of a cliff, practically spilling over the waves crashing on the rocks below. Despite the discrepancy in pours for the gentleman versus the lady (see evidence below), it was the most perfect perch for watching the sun set over Florence, who was bobbing peacefully in the distance. I'd take another day of boat cleaning if it could have an ending like this.
Low and behold, I got my wish! The next day we spent the morning and early afternoon tackling the outside of our dirty girl. We washed the teak decks, the stainless steel and the windows. It was oddly satisfying work, as Florence began to look like a new boat once the salt and grime were whisked away. Anytime we got overheated, we just dove in the water and them scrambled back up to continue. Blasting Rag and Bone Man on the speakers helped keep up morale. Later that evening, we wanted to check out the town of San Francesc, which is the main town on the island. I read about this adorable looking restaurant in a garden in San Francesc that supposedly had some of the best seafood in town and managed to snag us a table around 9. Yes, I am my mother's daughter and I really get off on reading about places to go and, more importantly, to eat whenever I am in a new place. We were 1 for 1 so far with Beach Club 10.7 so excited to try our luck again in town. But first: we needed to provision the boat. There was a relatively large supermarket in San Francesc called Eroski, which I think is the budget chain market for much of Spain. We brought our handy granny trolley, which really is priceless when buying groceries in bulk when you don't have a car to shove them in. Stephen and I spent the next 45 minutes having way more fun than any two people should have in an Eroski. Who knew buying cheap groceries could be so satisfying? We raced from shelf to shelf, in a frenzied competition to see who could find the cheapest goods, our eyes lighting up like kids in a candy store when we found say a jar of tomato sauce for 65 cents instead of EUR1.50. Maybe we need to get out more....
We proudly hauled our loot away and walked to San Francesc's main drag to check out the town. I was beyond impressed! San Francesc is perhaps the most adorable little town I've seen in the Balearics. The town center is completely pedestrianised and full of well-maintained terraces serving cocktails under exploding bougainvillea trees. There were dozens of little restaurants, boutiques and cafes. I was a bit tempted to sell the boat and buy a little artist's studio here and just live my days wandering these peaceful streets sipping coffee and playing guitar. If you have never been to Formentera or to San Francesc, GO. It's a bit boho, but it's also quiet and super charming, and I can't wait to go back.
We found our destination for dinner in a quiet courtyard on the edge of town. It was clearly a fancy spot, and we felt a bit apprehensive rocking up with our big granny trolly and Eroski bags overflowing with bargain toilet paper. To the staff's credit, they showed not a hint of snobbery as they offered to store our bags and then showed us to the lovely bar sat smack in the middle of an herb garden for a welcome cocktail and some of the best rosemary almonds I've ever had. This place might just be heaven. The courtyard was covered in flowing trees with twinkling lights strung above head and the smell of fresh mint and jasmine permeating the evening air. Definitely one of the most romantic places I've been. Stephen and I had a lovely dinner and agreed that while boat life didn't really allow for a proper honeymoon, it did afford honeymoon moments like this, and they were all the sweeter for having to work for them.
I apologised for being in a bit of a mood the day before, as the experience of the anchor alarm going off had me rattled and under-slept. It is definitely an adjustment being on our own, accepting full responsibility for the boat and for each other’s safety. I occasionally let the stress get the better of me. We set the world and our relationship to rights over some fish and a glass of champagne. We wanted to get back to the boat and to get a good night's sleep, as the wind was forecast to shift and intensify significantly the following morning, making our already questionable anchorage untenable. We need to weigh anchor early to embark on what will be a 60 nautical mile sail to the north side of Ibiza where we will hopefully be protected from the strong southerlies for the next couple of days. It looks as if it will be a long sail beating into the wind, so unsure how pleasant or even sail-able it will be. I guess we will find out tomorrow!
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