Tag Archives: Bavaria

More visitors

source site IMG_3021[1]On Tuesday 7th June we motored sailed round the northern tip of Mallorca to head back to Port de Soller.  We were about to complete our first circumnavigation of the island, meet up with all the Vyvyan family IMG_3308[1]and pick up our new comfy, comfy mattresses for the front cabin!

como operar opções binárias We had a tranquil sail round and I am almost loath to tell you that Ian was working on his all over tan!  Much to my amusement, he sat at the helm in his deck shoes, Gilly hat and birthday suit!  Hmm….an interesting style.  (No Picture!!!)

http://www.amisdecolette.fr/?friomid=un-gars-une-fille-la-rencontre-2&2ad=ce It was lovely to be back in Soller.  We anchored near the swimming buoys right opposite the Hotel Esplendido – a great name for a hotel!CADV17

http://salpasafarit.fi/?kalimo=forex-piyasas%C4%B1-demo&fad=10  

follow We had a lovely few days pottering around, catching up with our new sailing friends and chilling with the Vyvs. IMG_3107[1]IMG_3312[1]

http://peopletrans.com.au/bioddf/vuowe/3279 On Friday we had to depart fairly early to head on round towards Palma, where we were going to pick up Keira and her friend Lucy.

source site We had decided to spend a night in Cala Portals Vells again and duly anchored.  After a late supper we crashed out only to be woken by urgent tapping on the hull at 0400hrs.  Ian leapt up and went up on deck to see what was what.  A middle-aged Mallorcan man was swimming in the bay, wearing a head torch and pulling a life buoy behind him on a long strap attached to his yacht.  He said only one word…’Tipping!’ But with sufficient anxiety and panic to spur us into immediate action.

here It was such a dark night, we couldn’t make out anything, there being no moon or shore lights to help us see.  We deployed our dinghy in record time and Ian set off into the gloom whilst I shone our fantastically strong flood light on to the other yacht.  It soon transpired that their anchor had dragged in the strong winds that had built up in the night.  The boat had been pushed back until it’s keel was sitting on the sand near the beach.  Luckily, they had not been pushed to the rocks lying menacingly on either side of the small yellow strip.

http://lokoli.com/?rtyt=application-pour-faire-des-rencontres-sur-facebook&d42=d4 The shadows cast by the search light made Ian believe that there was another stricken yacht and crew wrecked up on the beach which served to add to his sense of urgency in sorting out the first boat quickly, but later, on closer inspection turned out to be just shadows and a vivid imagination.

binäre optionen sucht First, they attempted to push the small yacht off the sand using the dinghy.  The keel was too deeply embedded and so Ian thought of enlisting the help of another yachtie and their tender.  The nearest other boat was a HUGE catamaran called Le Passion 60.  Ian knocked repeated on their hull and finally managed to raise one of the guests.  Ian explained the need for assistance but the man stated that he was not the skipper and no one came forward to help.

http://uetd-hessen.de/?deuir=eltern-freund-kennenlernen-tipps&83d=90 Ian returned to the troubled yacht alone. Next, they tried using the kedge anchor to winch themselves forward, but that was hard work with a manual winch.  Finally they tilted the whole boat to one side by pulling hard down on the main halyard from the dinghy and this, the swell coming into the bay, together with a bit of luck, allowed them to pull the boat off the sand.

http://diebrueder.ch/piskodral/6593 They re-anchored near by and we agreed to listen out for them on the radio should they need further help.  I brewed up some coffee and we gave them our last few biscuits, which they were very grateful for, as they had no intention of going to sleep again after their trauma.

We were so pleased to have been able to help them and they were very glad that they hadn’t had to call out the life boat because, as local Mallorcan sailors they would have been mightily embarrassed.

They left for Palma at 0800hrs and we told them that we would be there later on in the day.

After checking into the Real Club Nautico Palma and being issued with our blue wrist bands – Paul Brennan, take note! We marvelled at the range of facilities, including pool and gym, that we could use.  Just look how close to the cathedral we were now.K23K10

We collected the rental car and set off to do the shopping before heading to the airport to collect Keira. K22 This included an additional 50 meters of anchor chain in preparation for the eastern Med. Weighing in at 75 kg this presented a bit of a challenge to get on board. We tried to find a petrol station that would allow us to refill our LPG bottle but no joy, and, in the extra time it took to find this out, the Palma half marathon had started and the one road we needed to be on to get back to the Marina was closed!   We spent a frustrating hour in the car trying to find our way back and finally decided to just go straight out to eat.K6

Later, Ian went to the airport to collect Lucy, Keira’s friend and we all crashed out.  Next day we spent nearly an hour circling near the fuel pontoon for an opening only.  When we were about to motor in to take the place of Taira they radioed us to let us know that the fuel station had now closed for the day!  Humff!K12

So off we set.  We arrived in Ensenada de la Rapita in the evening, and, after an slight issue with the anchor deploying itself quite close to another boat, we finally managed to sort out the errant remote control and anchor a safe distance away from others.

It was a fairly bumpy night in the large open bay but there were only two other boats and so it was certainly peaceful.  We motored into the fuel pontoon at La Rapita Marina and were able to top up fuel and water, empty our bins, visit a chandlery, use the facilities plus have a pleasant chat with the marinero who had a can of beer tucked into the water cage on his push bike!

So, suitably stocked up on everything, we set off for aK13 lovely sail to Cabrera.  An archipelago of islands comprising the Cabrera National Park, south of Mallorca.

 

We had reserved a buoy there through the National Park website and it was a very straightforward process to pick up the yellow buoy and line.

K16

What a stunning place.  We were able to walk up to the castleK11 at the top of the hill, walk to the lighthouse over the other side of the island, use the military cantina for a bite to eat and a jug of sangria and most importantly, use the loos!

 

K17We explored the coves and beaches of the bay in the kayak and dinghy and spotted enormous sea bream and other large fish.  We also saw a number of enormous, giant clams, softly opening and closing their scalloped lips.  Strangely there were no shells on the beach at all.  I had a quiet go at fishing with my newly constructed line (following your useful advice, Nick) and threw in my decoy bait, then my hook and line, and yes, quick as you can say, sea bream, I had a HUGE one on my line.  Foolishly, I lifted the fish up out of the water on the line and you can guess what happened.  The fish wriggled off the hook and disappeared back to the shoal.

We enjoyed a relaxing few days here in the utter peace and quiet.

Our next big sail was to head back up the Eastern coast of Mallorca.  We wanted to head for Pollensa eventually, so we made it to Cala Mondrago which was a good half way house and thought it would be a nice place to enjoy a bit of civilisation.  We had run out of cooking gas in the morning so had been denied a morning cuppa, and with no prospect of cooking our supper, we had to go ashore.

We set off walking up the road and met a sweet English couple from Poole in Dorset.  They told us that our best bet would be one of the beach restaurants.  So we about-faced and headed back to have a nice meal overlooking the deserted beach.

Next morning, we set off to do some provisioning and to find gas in nearby Cala D’Or.  We jumped on the bus and enjoyed the scenery as we drove through increasingly touristy areas.  We were keen to find breakfast and sat in a little cafe on ‘the grid’, ordered eggs, etc. and it was only then that I realised that I had dropped our mobile phone.

Ian retraced our steps to the bus stop, I went to enlist the help of the tourist information office, who phoned the bus company to no avail.  Keira was able to see the whereabouts of the phone on Find My Friends.  It appeared to still be in Cala Mondrago.

So we completed our chores and ate our breakie and grabbed a taxi to take us back to the boat.  On arriving at the Cala the phone appeared to have been moved.  Keira was despatched to negotiate its recovery.

It transpired that two German women had found the phone on the floor of the bus.  Instead of handing it to the driver, thinking that it must belong to someone from Cala D’Or, they held onto it in order to take it back to Cala D’Or that evening!  They were wandering around the park and beach in Mondrago and making it difficult for Keira to find them.  They were about to get back on the bus to return to Cala D’Or when Keira finally caught up with them.  They gave us the phone and we thanked our lucky stars!

Phew!

So, panic over, we went back to the boat and because the forecast was not good for the beach day that we’d planned we decided to crack on to Cala de S’Agulla.

We anchored up near the beach and the next day the girls kayaked ashore to spend a day relaxing on dry land.  Within minutes the entire beach, and every piece of sand was occupied by Germans.

They were surrounded by chanting, beer drinkers.  I think they relished the opportunity to do some serious people watching and sat there enthralled.  We joined them for a bite to eat at lunch time and had bat and ball and frizbe competition later in the evening.

It was as if some one had rung the end of day school bell, because the minute the sun started to disappear over the hill the beach cleared.  The beach maintenance guys sprang into action and the sand was swept and spruced up and sun loungers re-arranged neatly for the following day.

This is the best part of a beach day.

Back at the boat we had a Pimms followed by yummy supper.  The girls decided to go out into town.  Ian gave them a ride in and they staggered back to the dinghy at 0500hrs!  And were fast asleep as we set off back to Pollensa later that morning.

Strong winds and torrential rain having been predicted for Pollensa in the afternoon, we wanted to be anchored safely before it arrived and so that Ian could go ashore to watch the rugby.  Typically, the wind arrived early so we had to hang about a bit whilst the storm blew over.  He did managed to see the last half of the game.

K18 K19 K20 K21

Now we had the chance to do some window shopping around Pollensa and suss out the buses for Lucy’s return to the airport.

We saw a little more rugby and decided to eat out on Lucy’s last night at a lovely looking restaurant called Ambrosia.

Next morning, we were refilling our completely depleted water tanks and petrol supplies before heading back round to Port de Soller when we saw the sea plane again and I managed to grab a couple of pics.  Looking forward to our brief sojourn in the UK for Keira’s graduation ceremony and to vote for the EU referendum.

Happy days!

First week in Portugal

We arrived in Faro ridiculously early on Sunday 6th March and drove straight to Vila Real de Santo Antonio, which is a small town on the Portugese Spanish border, right on the river Guadiana.  Top job today was to complete the handover of Linea.

download

We went straight to our lovely Air BnB apartment in town and got settled in there briefly. Then, we walked round the corner to the marina where we met up with Pim Blokland, from whom we had bought the boat.

After a quick coffee, we set off to the boat and soon Ian and Pim were talking boat technical details.  Having had such an early morning, I am not so sure how much of the important information that Pim had to relate actually went in but Ian was taking copious notes and hopefully that, together with a memory surge, will prove useful in time.

Helpfully, Pim met us the following day for our trip down to the boat yard.  The tide and currents here in the river are quite ferocious and so his help was very much appreciated.  The survey had thrown up an issue with the sail drive, which is the gear changer for the engine.  It was faulty, which meant that it wouldn’t change from forward to reverse without switching the engine off first!  Now,
normally that wouldn’t be too difficult to cope with, but, for an added challenge, the ignition switch had decided to work to rule and would only switch on, not off!  So, I was in charge of delving into the Volvo Penta engine housing to manually switch off, if need be.  My RYA diesel engine course was already proving to have been money well worth spending!

The marina staff assisted in our manoeuvres out of the tight space on the visitor’s pontoon.  We were spun around so that the bow was pointing in the right direction and off we went down the pontoon and sharp left out into the bumpy waters of the river.  I was suddenly and inexplicably at the helm.  Before long we arrived at the jetty of the boat yard some 500m down stream.

We were all in position.  Ian on the mooring lines fore and aft.
Me down by the engine, ready to switch off manually in case we needed to change gear.

Suddenly, I heard a shout and saw that Ian was dangling from the pulpit, clinging on with hands and feet, at the front of the boat having made an unsuccessful leap to the jetty.  I rushed forward as best I could; leaping over fenders, sheets and deck paraphernalia on my way to reach him.  He calmly asked me to take the mooring line from him so he could pull himself up.  He tried to swing up and out, over the pulpit but the overhang (or his strength to weigh ratio) was too great.  Conscious that he couldn’t hold on for much longer, I suggested that he simply slid in under the pulpit on to the deck to safety. I pulled his jeans legs, practically disrobing him in the process, but at least he was safe!  The lads from the yard raised an eyebrow but there was barely a flicker of concern or amusement or shock at his predicament.

Soon we were tied up, despite the currents and choppy waters conspiring to prevent us.

FWIP 5

Then a huge machine progressed towards the yacht.  An enormous sling machine that rolled into the water and scooped us up, raising us up so that we were swinging free and dangling, suspended metres from the ground.FWIP 1

 

 

 

 

 

FWIP 3
Dangling suspended above the water.

The whole contraption took us out of the water on to the hard and we were thoughtfully provided with a ladder to climb down.  It seemed precariously high without water around.

Although the boat was only moored for eight weeks or so, and was not  sailed or moved at all, it was astonishing how many barnacles had grown on the hull. The yard was to spray clean the underside of the hull and scrape all the barnacles off.

FWIP 8
A (slightly blurred) collection of barnacle animals.
FWIP 7
Barnacled bottom!
FWIP 9
Ian enjoying polishing his hull but not enjoying the price of the UV polish. It would have been cheaper to coat it all in Ambre Solaire!

We were to polish the top sides of the hull with special UV resistant polish

and clean and sort out below decks so that when our boxes (15 boxes) arrived, we would have actually found spaces for our stuff to go!

FWIP 11
The Forepeak Cabin – masses of storage under the double bunk.
FWIP 12
The starboard bunk cabin. Lots of stuff in here already.

 

After a very busy day, we headed back to the apartment and grabbed a bite to eat.  Both of us were nodding off by 8pm so gave up the battle and went straight to Bedlington!

Up and at ’em in the morning and back to the yard.  I continued my mission below decks and Ian headed off to the Volvo garage in Spain to be briefed about what the engine needs. Time flies.  The day is done.  We repeat the process the following day.

All day Thursday Ian carefully began the delicate process of refitting the propeller blades and shaft to the sail drive that had now been repaired and replaced.

Now, I have no clue about propellers, but I can safely say that whoever invented this piece of technology, was a serious genius.  The precision engineering is amazing.  Each individual propeller has an optimal angle at which to be fitted so that when it rotates it provides maximum propulsion.  Ian and I spent a couple of hours sitting under the hull trying to make sure that the props went back on the shaft at precisely the right angle.    Never having done this before it was a steep learning curve and there was always the faint shred of doubt that the prop would stay in situ once the engine was put on.  A significant conundrum is that, of course, we could not test either the sail drive or our careful replacement of the props until we were back in the water and needed both to be in full working order!

On Thursday evening we received a call from the delivery company who were about to deliver  our boxes of stuff to our rented apartment.  After a brief negotiation they agreed to drop off the consignment at the boat yard.  They drove the van straight to the boat and off-loaded the pallet.  All beautifully tessellated, stacked and cling-filmed by Mr Paul Brennen – Many thanks.

FWIP 13We had all of them up on deck and lowered into the forward hatch in ten minutes flat!  Fantastic!  This saved us so much work, walking up and down the lengthy pontoon in the marina from the apartment.   We were made up!

During the course of our five days in the boat yard we began to pay attention to the surroundings whilst having our morning coffee.  Over the road opposite was a lovely evergreen wooded area stretching down to the beach front and back towards town.  All along the street into town there is a mixture of buildings, some businesses in full swing, others derelict.

We noticed whole families of people living in semi-repaired lean-tos against the tall walls of the building next to us.  There were probably three or four families, with grandparents, children and babies all living in a small community.  They had a water supply from the fire hydrant.  Plastic sheeting flapped and flew  from their roof tops.  A Shetland pony tried to snuffle around in the scrub for some grass. They had a horse and cart, bicycle, three cars and a shopping trolley for a full range of transport options.FWIP 10

There was also a pack of dogs, I counted twelve, roamed around the encampment.  One dog was tied up to a post.  Whenever its owner went off out of sight it barked incessantly and loudly and rapidly for HOURS.  I couldn’t believe its stamina.  The poor dog must have been exhausted and stressed thinking that it had to bark until it’s master returned.

Nobody remaining in the encampment batted a eyelid, despite the shrill edge to the dog’s bark.  Our raised position on the tarmac in the yard amplified the sound and soon it was slicing through our heads and becoming unbearable.

We checked the times for the next high water and as soon as our propeller was fitted back on we were ready to make an exit.

Although our fire extinguishers had returned from being tested and serviced, our life raft , VHF radio and EPIRB were still to be returned.  Nervous times lay ahead since we had to test our new sail drive and propellor without any of the normal safety precautions being in place.  We both put on life jackets and luckily, had a hand held VHF radio from home.  With some trepidation we were lowered back into the water and from the jetty were able to briefly check that the engine was performing, the propeller blades remained in place and the sail drive, changed gear and didn’t leak.

I was dispatched below to check whether any water had entered the hull.

‘YES! I can see water!’ I yelled with a panicked shout up to Ian,over the noise of the engine.  The lowering was stopped and the engineer from the yard came aboard.  He concluded that there had already been water in the bilges that was disturbed by being at funny angles in the sling.  Nothing to be worried about!

So we continued to be lowered completely into the water, revving the engine forwards and back.

The lads released the lines and we were  on our own.  We were both anxious.  However, gradually calming down as we motored steadily up river towards the marina.  Ian asked if I’d like to take a turn up stream to the suspension bridge.  All I want is to get back to dry land!  We turned into the marina and the dock master was there to help us tie up.  I have all the mooring lines prepared for a nifty leap onto the pontoon from amid ships, but there is no need for those heroics on this occasion.

On Saturday we feel we deserve a day off so we head off to Seville.  There is an IKEA there and also a fair chance that we can find a bar to watch the England game in the Six Nations Rugby.  IKEA was incredibly busy.  We spent far more than we intended, on not very much and subsequently have found a fantastic shop in Vila Real selling all that we bought and more!

But Seville more than made up for the trauna of shopping.  It  is beautiful.  The weather was a glorious twenty nine degrees.  We came up out of our underground car park and there in front of us was an Irish pub showing the rugby.   We had loads of time for a proper stroll round the centre of the city before heading off to watch the match.FWIP 14

A great result and the perfect end to our first week.

Buying a boat – it’s all about compromise

We have come to learn that buying a boat is all about compromise. A centre cockpit boat generally has a large aft cabin with a queen size bed you can get out of either side, but the cockpit tends to be smaller; mass production boats such as Beneteau are lighter therefore better in the light winds of the Med and Caribbean but less than optimal in big seas; longer boats, more living space but higher marina fees and bigger sail area to handle when short-handed; and so it goes on. Of course, for us, price was also a big consideration.  Continue reading Buying a boat – it’s all about compromise