September 28, 2019
And then there were two. Now that our guests had gone, it was back to business mode. We felt we had perhaps overstayed our welcome this far east in the Med this late in the season, as conditions were deteriorating quickly. There was another mistral forecast to blow through Corsica and Sardinia in 2 days’ time, so we had to hightail it west as quickly as possible. We had a lively sail that afternoon back up the Costa Smerelda as far north as we could make it before nightfall. With about 15-17 knots on a beam, we were flying along. We found a quiet little anchorage and did our weather routing and passage plan for our journey west. There was a strong tramontane wind that would sweep across northern Sardinia the following day and night, so we planned to take advantage of the wind to get us all the way to west side of Sardinia where hopefully we could find an anchorage that would be somewhat protected for the night. The day after tomorrow, we should have a window in the early evening to start our crossing to Menorca before the mistral comes tearing through. It would be a busy and windy next few days with a lot of mileage to cover, so we enjoyed a quiet night on deck before turning in early. The migration west begins tomorrow!
The next morning bright and early, we had the sails out and were on our way back through the inner channel along Sardinia’s northern coast. The sail was a bit tricky to start, with the wind not quite at a sailable angle and a very choppy sea. We were motor sailing and bouncing all over the place for the first couple hours. Once deeper into the channel, the wind came more on our quarter, at which point we turned the engine off and sailed under full main and jib to the other side of of the island. Flo was harnessing 20-25 knots of breeze like a pro, screaming along at 9+ knots. This is the good stuff. Once outside of the channel and back out into the Strait of Boinifacio (yet again), the wind picked up meaningfully, but we weren’t heeling too aggressively so decided not to reef. We were making great time and wanted to get to the western side of the island as soon as we could before the meat of the tramontane filled in. We were not familiar with the anchorage and it seemed to get very mixed reviews on Navily, the forum we sometimes use for anchorage information. If it proved to be untenable, we needed enough time to find an alternative.
We reached the western tip of the island and rounded the corner into what seemed to be the only bay in the vicinity that would be protected from the fierce easterly that night. It was decidedly more stark than the bays of the Costa Smerelda and was deserted, which we found a little disconcerting - where were the other boats hiding if not here? We had read on Navily that sand was tough to come by in the bay, so we did a bit of a survey and saw what looked like sandy patches on the south side of the bay. Time to get the sails in. Once again, the mainsail proved problematic - we had about 17 knots of breeze blowing, and we could not get the furling motor to budge the sail an inch. This was becoming not just frustrating but a proper safety hazard, as if we are unable to furl in the sail in even moderate wind and seas, it's really quite dangerous. What if this happens during our crossing to Menorca at night and with high winds? We were worried and getting to the point where we might have to just bite the bullet and get a new mainsail. That was a problem for another day however, as we needed to get Florence dug before the worst of the winds blew threw that night. There was no need to use the engine to dig, as the winds were gusting up to 25. We found a patch of sand and seemed to dig beautifully the first go. The wind was already picking up to 35 knots, so we put out a ton of chain. We were still the only boat in the anchorage, so no need to worry about our swing circle. We settled in for what was promised to be a windy night. It was quite a nice anchorage actually, with just a few small buildings ashore, and it did seem it was the correct place to be given where the wind was blowing. There were two other boats that crept into the anchorage after us, providing a bit of safety in numbers. Although one of them, a cat with a family on it, motored directly in front of us and began dropping the anchor - an interesting choice given the fact the large bay was practically empty. By the time they had drifted back about 20 meters, they were almost within jumping distance of Florence’s bow. We had to have a word with them and let them know that was not a viable spot for the night. Their skipper looked a little embarrassed and didn’t object to moving his boat further into the bay, where there was still plenty of space. That potential crisis averted, we settled in and watched one last beautiful sunset over Sardinia. Tomorrow, we would wait for the tramontane to settle down a bit, which she should do by afternoon, then take advantage of a relatively tight weather window to get Florence moving west and hopefully wello her way to Menorca before the mistral blew through the area.
The Big Gripper (Flo’s anchor) once again held us safely in place that night. When we woke early in the morning, we could hear the wind still really whipping up from our cabin. Let’s hope the forecast was correct and the tramontane would chill out in time for us to escape that evening. We went over our passage plan to Menorca, which would be about 240 nautical miles, our longest passage yet and should take about 35 hours. We planned to set out that evening around 6 PM, which should get us out of the danger zone before the next mistral and also have us arriving in Menorca during daylight. Thankfully the wind did start to ease off that afternoon, and we prepared Florence for her journey. We upped anchor around 6:30 PM, got her sails up in the anchorage, and pointed her west. As lovely as Corsica and Sardinia had been, it was just too late in the season to be this far east, as the wind liked to remind us on an almost daily basis. It was definitely time for Florence to get back to the Balearics and hopefully milder weather before then moving on through Gibralter and down to the Canary Islands, where we wanted to be by the end of October. Many miles to cover, not a ton of time, so let’s get sailing!
The wind was forecast to blow 20-30 knots that evening, so we reefed the main a bit as we didn’t want to get stuck with the full sail out if conditions picked up during the night. The first part of the sail was exhilarating - we were on a bit of a beat, but sailed as close to the wind as we could manage trying to make headway west. The sea state was relatively big but manageable, and Florence handled crashing head first into waves like a champ. Darkness fell as the islands grew further away in the distance, and we continued to sail through the night. The wind eventually moved around more on our beam, so we could point more directly at our target, which is always comforting. As well as Florence handles sailing to windward, it can become frustrating especially on longer passages when you just want to make forward progress, not zig zag your way there. The seas also calmed down a bit by the time the sun began to come up the following AM, which made the sail more pleasant. As we watched another vivid sunrise, we felt a sense of relief wash over us to seemingly be away from the worst of the winds. I used to think "Mistral" would be a beautiful name for a boat - I've since changed my tune on that. The sail that day was gorgeous - we now had the wind on our beam, so we took the genoa and were cruising at 8-9 knots. We might have to slow down or risk getting there before dawn! And piloting around unfamiliar territory, then attempting to anchor in the dark is not my idea of a good time.
We enjoyed the day sail, keeping the watch system going so that we each had time to relax. I managed to rip through an entire book that day, getting seriously involved in Patricia Highfield’s Strangers on a Train. Twisted stuff - highly recommend. There is nothing nicer in this life aboard than a long sail on a sunny day, tearing through a good book in the cockpit or on the G&T seats at the back. It felt we had left our mistral/tramontane troubles well behind and ahead of us was nothing but blue sea and somewhere beyond the horizon the beautiful Balearics. I’d never been to Menorca before, and Stephen had only been once on his first holiday abroad with his family at the tender age of 8. He asked his parents the name of the bay where their resort was located and they remembered it was called Arundel de Castell. We did some research on it, and it appeared to be on the east side of the island and in a protected cove that should be a decent anchoring spot. Why not make landfall in Menorca there for a little throwback? The wind calmed down a little bit that night, so we were no longer at risk of arriving before daybreak. We were up with the sun and had about 2 hours to go until we reached our intended anchorage. We were fairly exhausted after two nights at sea but pumped - blasting the music on the speakers as we sailed the final miles to Menorca’s coastline.
The island looked beautiful from our approach from the sea - rugged and mountainous, with very little development that we could see on her eastern shore. The cove we were headed for was buried deep into the coast, and there were quite a few hazards upon approach, including several rocks that just broke the surface but were hard to see and according to our chart a few other submerged ones right in our path on the way in. Careful pilotage was required, as it would be a real shame to end such a brilliant passage with a hull crack against a rock. Welcome to Menorca! Florence will be staying here for a while, at the bottom of the seabed….
The entrance to the cove that was Arundel de Castell was narrow and it was hard to see what lay within. Once inside, we were greeted by a small but absolutely lovely bay, with only enough room for a handful of boats to anchor. Thankfully, we were one of only two and were able to find a good spot on the sandy bottom to drop the hook. We’d arrived!
Menorca gave a strong first impression. The most low-key of the Balearics I'm not sure it gets the billing its due (though I doubt the people who have discovered its charms and spend their season on its quiet shores mind that). The water was a brilliant turquoise, the sand bright white, and the air smelled intensely of pine. Stephen immediately recognised the large hotel perched on the cliffs above the beach as the place he had stayed 32 years ago as a little boy. We took pictures to send to his parents, which they got a kick out of and responded with this gem: Stephen at the tender age of 8 with his father and older brother in front of the bay where we now floated. Nice shorts!
We were both tired from two nights of a watch system and interrupted sleep, but I find the excitement of arriving in a new place trumps the fatigue. Plus we were eager to check out this hotel and see if it still looked the same as it had over 3 decades earlier. But first things first - water this blue just begged to be plunged into. After a swim, we dinghied to the beach and walked up to the hotel only to discover it was closed for the season for renovations. Oh well - we still had this lovely cove to enjoy for a couple days before moving onto Mallorca. We needed to be in Palma in 3-4 days’ time, as we had managed to source new chart plotters for our nav station and cockpit to replace our old ones that had given up the ghost in Corsica. While the iPads serve as a good backup, they aren’t connected to our AIS or radar, which thankfully still worked on our old systems but threatened to go the way of our data and disappear at any minute. So we needed fresh tech and had the new systems shipped to Palma to be fitted at the beginning of the week. That gave us two days to explore Menorca, which we were keen to do.
We spent the next couple days swimming off the boat and going on hikes around the island’s rugged coastline. I had no idea Menorca was so stunning - it has all the charms of Ibiza's large sandy beaches and jagged rocky coastline without the crowds. To me, it seemed the perfect spot in the Med to have a summer outpost and to get away from it all for a few weeks.
After a couple quiet nights on anchor, thanks to a mild southerly wind, the wind shifted to a north-easterly and was blowing strait into the anchorage, making it less safe and certainly less pleasant. Time to up anchor and continue Florence’s migration west! We should be able to get to Mallorca in one solid day sail and find someplace to anchor on her north coast. Let the Balearic tour continue.
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