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28th September – 12th October 2004
predominantly forced to resort to the ‘Iron Genoa’ for propulsion. Arriving at sunset in Palma de
Mallorca we anchored in Las Illetas; a beautifully clear moonlit bay, where Troels’ girlfriend Tina
joined us for a flying visit. Palma is a beautiful city to wander around: grand historic buildings,
immaculate streets, a very impressive cathedral, and a wonderful little store we happened upon,
and squeezed into, which can only be described as the hanging gardens of chorizo – a meat-
lovers paradise. Needless to say, we stocked up. While in Palma we finally picked up a few
elusive spare parts, and purchased ‘Manuel’ our 8hp outboard engine for ‘Andy’ the Avon
dinghy: large enough to give plenty of oomph, light enough to manhandle onto and off the aft deck.
We didn’t have time to brush up on our German first (the population of Germans in some of the
resort areas in Mallorca is as high as 48%!) but nonetheless we decided that from Palma we
would do a clockwise sailing circuit around the island. On deciding our itinerary around the
island, we knew admittedly little about Mallorca’s delights, so while still in Palma we went to a
nearby newsstand, looked through some of their postcards and noted down some of the
highlights we shouldn’t miss. Heading westwards we spent our first night anchored in Cala
Portals, a pleasant inlet of three linked sandy coves. In the morning we swam ashore to explore
ancient Phoenician caves overlooking our isolated anchorage, and by mid-morning we had
weighed anchor before the cove became crowded by day-trippers. Sailing downwind under
cruising chute along the western coast of the island we were chased by the impressive sight of a
racing fleet of 80ft Oysters flying multi-coloured spinnakers, but by evening were alone as we
turned North-East passed Dragonera Island to witness one of our most spectacular sunsets of
golden skies burning over a mirror-flat surface…cameras whirred but the photos will never do it
justice.
A couple of hours after-dark we glided gently into our isolated anchorage at La Foradada, a
dramatic hole-in-the-rock formation around a tiny cove, famously owned due to it’s beauty by
Arch Duke Luis Salvador of Austria. With a tricky manoeuvre we set two anchors to hold us in
the nook of the vertical rock faces either side, and finding to our surprise and delight that we were
alone, spent a chilled night on deck under an awesome starry sky, lubricated by fine single malt,
with the sounds of Jean Michel Jarre & Pink Floyd creating a suitably mellow background. In the
morning we found ourselves in a mini-paradise, the most beautiful setting yet visited, and all to
ourselves! With Troels the location photographer aboard all accepted the challenge to try and find
a route to climb the adjacent rockfaces for an aerial view… a couple of hours, and a fair amount
of exertion later, we had succeeded in reaching the summits on both sides, and fired off photo-
shoots of Skardu below to record the achievement. Back in the bay we discovered a series of
underwater tunnels in the rocks to swim through, and between us succeeded in catching 3 fish
for dinner with ‘Spike’.
Departing this stunning place of tranquility with reluctance after lunch, we cruised further up this
rugged and wild coastline, with its’ dramatic mountainous scenery dropping sharply into the sea.
Being early October the hordes of summer tourists had evaporated, hugely enhancing our
experience as we found ourselves pretty much alone sailing along this coast. We had heard
much about the pretty village of Deia, and dropped anchor for a few hours mid-afternoon to
investigate. Landing at the nearby beach, we climbed up the terraced hillside amongst olive
groves and fig trees to discover the picturesque village the equal of its’ reputation. Loading up with
fresh fruit from the local store, we paused to appreciate the serenity of life on this remote side of
the island.
By late afternoon we had arrived in Port Soller, a charming fishing village, where we collected
our next visitor as planned. Dil Sidhu – friend and one time work-colleague of Mark’s from Hong
Kong – had taken a break from his pastime of organizing ‘hot date’ Balls in London for the
fashionable Bollywood set, to come and discover the realities of the sailing life. That evening we
again slid after-dark into a narrow anchorage beneath towering cliffs, this time edging into the
mouth of the dramatic and famous Sa Calobra. Once again we found this popular destination to
ourselves, and celebrated by steaming our earlier catch for dinner before diving in for a swim
amongst the bright phosphorescence. A stunning dawn setting greeted us by daylight: we were
anchored in the very mouth of a once-powerful river and waterfall that had carved a cleft through
the tall rockface in front of us. Troels set off to capture the morning light on film, and we spent a
perfect day there; snorkeling and spearfishing in the crystal-clear waters, climbing mountainous
rocks in search of fresh rosemary, and exploring inland behind the tiny beach that divides river
from sea – a brief taste of the good life!
Sailing onwards towards Cabo Formentor, the remote Northern tip of the island, we were caught
unexpectedly in dramatic conditions, as the wind switched from becalmed to Force 7 in 10
seconds!! The ‘holiday cruise’ for Dil just got serious, and in the gusty conditions we had thought
it wise to acquaint ourselves with our storm jib so that we would be accustomed to it when we
really needed it: it performed well, Dil didn’t!!! Sailing lesson no.1: don’t use the for’ward heads in
a pounding sea – it’s worse than being in a washing machine. Sailing Lesson no. 2: close the
water inlet on the toilet when using it, otherwise you’ll get flooded in a rolling sea. Sailing lesson no.
3: feed the fish over the side, NOT in the Galley. Sailing lesson no.4: Ritz crackers are the only
thing worth stomaching when you’re hanging on for dear life! For the remainder of the crew it was
a fun day’s sail, and despite Dil’s forlorn carcass hanging onto the aft rail, we made good speed
through the building swell.
A couple of days later we sailed into the harbour at Porto Cristo on the South East side of the
island, seeking shelter from the rolling waves thrown up by a gale near Sardinia. Our charts
marked a sheltered anchorage within the harbour close to the town beach, which we made
straight for. Turns out we drove straight over roped buoy lines in the dark to reach the anchorage
area, now designated off-limits! Caught inside the prohibited zone, there was nothing for it but to
gun the engine and return whence we came, praying the rope lines wouldn’t foul our prop. Once
free, we took the safe option and slotted into a vacant marina berth instead! Porto Cristo’s only
genuine attraction lay underground in a series of fascinating and labyrinthine caves and
subterranean lakes, beautifully excavated and lit for the paying public, complete with classical
concert played by musicians in gondolas floating across the deepest lake!
On the final stretch back to Palma we stopped off at various impressive little sandy coves – for
which this coast is renown – to swim, have lunch and enjoy an evening’s culinary discovery of
Dil’s famous chicken curry, the likes of which we are unlikely to be treated to again for some time.
Back in the marina in Palma, we discovered Skardu in fine company: the Yacht Club was
hosting the ‘SuperYacht Cup’ for some of the grandest and most elegant sailing vessels on
earth!! Inviting ourselves along to the entertainment tent we were soon rubbing shoulders with
rich owners and talented crew alike, and shortly later we were to be found aboard ‘Victoria of
Straithearn’, a glorious 140ft ketch, admiring her fine lines and being tossed beers by the owner's
son and daughter. Being Dil’s last night, we were to be found much later that evening cruising the
clubs and dance-floors of Palma.
In an effort to rectify a smoking engine problem, Skardu was booked in with a Volvo mechanic at
the marina for repairs, and while Mark flew back to London with Dil for the weekend to attend the
christening of his Goddaughter Sienna, Q and Troels oversaw the mechanic and undertook a
few days catch-up maintenance.
On Monday 11th, Mark had returned, and we were joined by Matthew Stoudt from Chicago (ex-
Kellogg Business School colleague of Mark’s) who was keen for a bit of sailing adventure. Our
final night on the town was provided by the elegant Madrid duo of Elena and Inma, who sought
out the most memorable tapas dinner (our best in Spain), and the strongest caiperinhas in town,
to give us a real fuel-injection before we departed Mallorca to head westwards towards Gibraltar
once again.
