Ibiza, Spain

The next day was the opposite of the one before, a motor-sail in light winds to Ibiza. On the one hand it is a nice respite to have nothing to do but read, make lunch, and take part in Seppe’s impromptu podcast episode about risk and risk-taking. Yet, after 10 hours of grinding motor noise we were happy to make it to the island and, after some grumpy looking stares in the crowded harbour, find a space for an evening swim and dinner. After the murky beach water of Valencia and Barcelona, the crystal-clear, blue and turquoise water of Ibiza was a positive shock and we stayed as late as possible in the sea snorkelling amongst the sea grass, octopi and shimmering schools of fish until our stomachs were growling for dinner.

As if to give Seppe the best possible array of experiences Ibiza delivered a glorious day sail up to a bay on the north side of the island. We set off as early as we could given the two days of sailing ahead, pulled out the spinnaker pole, and cruised downwind in a refreshing light breeze blowing firmly over the royal blue sea. The wind did sort of peter out at the end but we didn’t let that dampen our spirits and we set anchor at about 14:00 in another glorious Cala alongside only 3 or 4 other boats with plenty of time for swimming and an introduction to cliff jumping using a prominent 10m tall boulder jutting out of the water near the beach. We took advantage of the short sailing day with an early dinner and cards under the stars, speculating that the bay was almost certainly so quiet because of the terrible, yet cherished cell reception.

After such a long shore break, setting back out to sea always has the tingle of nerves. The day was forecast to be steadily stiffening winds coming off the tail end of the Mistral that would start to veer as we reached the tip of the mainland. We set off with the hope that we could hop straight over to Ibiza through the night but a backup plan to stop off at Denia if the trip proved too hard going.
The light winds in the morning soon picked up into a pretty sporty first day out sailing for Seppe who had looked a little green the day before on the day trip, yet he took to it with wide eyed excitement and only a small amount of stomach rumbling. Even when the wind started to shift earlier than expected and we were beating against waves and a force 4, Seppe was up on the wet foredeck taking photos and shouting into the wind. As we got to mid-afternoon our heading had shifted some 30 degrees with no way to make the headland. We saw some other boats making tacks to get a line out towards the islands but after 8 hours of heavy going we decided to call it a good first day out and head into Denia.

We called in on the radio, luckily got a space, and after the choppy entrance and a terrible parking display, made it to our space. As we were packing everything away, however, a loud plop was followed by a scream, “NOOOOOOO!”. The crossbar for the Windpilot had gone in the marina’s murky water. Now, the water is not that deep, but swimming is usually forbidden in the marina and the visibility in what isn’t too far from an open sewer is usually next to zero. Still, having just spent 200 euros on a few bolts for Joe the Windpilot, we shuddered to think what the cost of a crossbar would be, so Cameron went to fetch the goggles and fins. Alerted by Roni’s stage scream, a friendly British boat from a few spots down came to investigate and immediately offered help in the form of a floating battery-operated dive compressor and some diving weights. “Do you know how to dive?” “Yes, of course!” Cameron says, immediately half-unsure about it. “Just be sure to breathe out when you come up, remember?” “Uh, yeah, sure, got it.”

We weighted a line off the stern beneath the Windpilot as a guide for where to start the search and to help orientate in the brown depths. After a couple of false starts, Cameron was finally rummaging blind around the mixture of sludge and unidentified sharp stuff that makes up the bottom of every marina. Suddenly, a flash of metal, and we had it! The whole team was pretty chuffed with the success and excitement and we all befriended each other on the required sailing apps. Then our exhausted Seven Tenths crew went on the routine check-in expedition, got a shower, and shove down some food in preparation for the long leg starting early the next morning.