48 hours wasn't much notice but I
was especially keen to make the journey as it coincided exactly with
the dates of Onawind Blue's voyage to Ibiza in June 2009. I made some
calls and packed a quick kit bag and was ready and waiting, with sun
cream and sailor's knife, at the given time.
The boat, Zeewoelf, was forged in
the North sea fishery. Tied up in a tidy marina on the Mediterranean
shore she looked as conspicuous as an armored car in a prim city car
park. Since retiring from fishing she'd been gutted and refitted and
her rugged exterior belied the soft furnishing below. At 80ft and of
hulking steel this couldn't have been a more different vessel from my
small craft.
The boat had been across the
Atlantic twice so nobody was in doubt that she could handle the
weather on a 24 hour trip from Barcelona to Formentera. There were
nine of us, the owner Jean Martial with whom I've sailed many times
in Capitaine Ulysse, and a group of his friends. We embarked at midday but the wind,
blowing 16 knots straight into the harbour mouth, kept us at the dock
until sundown. I familiarised myself with her mooring lines and other
gear and when the wind abated Jean Martial reversed her smartly off
the quay, cranked the wheel over and engaged forward. There was no
rush to tidy lines and gather in fenders as Martial likes to leave
everything ready is case there's an immediate problem, necessitating
a rapid to return to port. This is an old habit of his which has
obviously proved its worth. We cleared the decks in the last of the
daylight and those not interested in navigation went below.
Personally I found it almost
impossible to leave the bridge. I needed to look at the sea, to watch
for fishing buoys and the lights of other boats. And I couldn't deny
that my eyes were especially tuned to seek out some madman like
myself in a small sailing boat with nothing but a torch to shine on
the sails, if the torch hadn't already recevieved a soaking.
Zeewoelf was set to auto pilot as
soon as we cleared the port. Out of the traffic of Barcelona and I
adjusted course to 194º, not with the wheel but with a little knob
that clicked round degree by degree. Shortly I found myself alone.
Jean Martial doesn't employ a watch system you simply stay up until
you're tired and then go and wake someone else. I like this laissez-faire idea though in practice I find it hard to stop sailing and hard
to rouse someone else from slumber. And so I stood staring at a
screen, matching boats to their corresponding blobs and getting
freaked out by the sheer wealth of stuff that was visible to the
radar though out on deck everything was black. I had expected
Zeewoelf to plough through anything but she was uncomfortable with
the short frequency of the Mediterranean chop and every now and then
beat the rise of her bilge on the water with a great clang that rang
from stem to stern.
After a nap, in which the sea
calmed, I was back in the wheelhouse before dawn, worried that I
might miss something, particularly that loony in a small boat. But as
dawn cracked open the day so the worries of the night flew back over
the horizon. With the appearance of the passengers with jugs of
orange juice and coffee the atmosphere returned to that of a chic
hotel that just happened to be rolling over the sea.
Tagomago Island |
The sun sailed across the sky as
Zeewoelf stuck doggedly to her speed and course until in the evening
the north east corner of Ibiza appeared through the haze. We skirted
the island of Tagomago and headed for the narrow, and very busy, gap
between Ibiza and Formentera. As night fell so the instruments
failed. Having become used to navigating by screen we were suddenly
back to using our more ingrained if rusty senses to guide the boat to
a safe anchorage. After two uncertain hours we dropped the hook in
what transpired to be the ideal spot.
Square rigger Stad in Ibiza port |
I jumped ship in the morning and
took the ferry to Ibiza where I became embroiled in the preparations
for a wedding party with 120 guests in a luxury villa overlooking the
same Tagomago. Such was the intensity of the work at hand that I
missed the ferry back to Formentera and the return voyage on
Zeewoelf. My only worry was that there was no one to look out for
small sailing boats.
3 comments:
Mr. Crawshaw, a friend forwarded your blog, which I enjoyed tremendously. Although I'm not a sailor, your colorful prose and detailed description made reading a breeze and a pleasure. May I ask what you did in your former life? Your flair for the King's English didn't come out of nowhere. Thank you and safe sailing.
Mario O.
Hi, Thanks for your great post, there are much nice information that I am sure a huge number of guys and gals don’t know.
ibiza formentera ferry tickets
Thanks for sharing the valuable Blog
I recently had the pleasure of embarking on a journey with Zeewoelf to Ibiza, and I must say, it was an experience that exceeded all expectations. From the moment we stepped on board, we were greeted with warm smiles and a genuine sense of hospitality. The Zeewoelf crew was incredibly professional, attentive, and knowledgeable. They went above and beyond to ensure our comfort and catered to our every need. I highly recommend Zeewoelf to anyone seeking an unforgettable journey to Ibiza and a Boat Trip to Ibiza.
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