Week 19: Palma to Valencia (204nm)

An action packed week awaited us as we hosted my sister Liv and her fiancée Elliott for the first time on Serenity. We spent the first half of the week exploring Majorca before sailing over night to Valencia for a couple of food-filled days on the mainland. Neon wifeys, an inflatable pineapple, spinnaker wrestling, topless damsels in distress, floating dance parties and the Jeans Nausea Scale… it’s fair to say they catalysed an eventful week on board! Also, we broke 3,000nm this week, which is perfect timing to support our application for the insurance to cover the Atlantic crossing 🙂

A swell(y) start to the week

After a day getting Serenity ready for the week ahead, Laura and I sat back and waited until 11:30, when Liv texted us to let us know they had landed on time. Twenty minutes later, I dinghied into shore to collect our guests. I suspect that the typical disorientation in arriving in a new country late at night was exaggerated by the tender ride in the dark and swell, but they seemed too excited to meet Serenity to be bothered by it. We were delighted to give them a partial tour and then settled down to catch up over a couple of late night beers. Their first night’s sleep was somewhat eventful as we were rudely awakened around 5am, we think by some cruise ship’s wake, which even I thought would lead to a capsize in my sleepy state… miraculously there were no casualties, but it did mean that we all needed a lie in the next morning before we could start to plan out the week.

The plan was to finish the week in Valencia on the Spanish mainland the following Friday to give us the opportunity to share the experience of an overnight passage (at their request), and so planning the week revolved around finding some good weather for this trip. I often feel like Goldilocks when looking at wind forecasts at these times, as in the Med it has so often been the case of too little wind or too much. This week was certainly one of those times as for the first few days there was a real blow in the channel between Majorca and the mainland, but the back half resembled a mill pond; however, there appeared to be a window between these extremes about halfway through, which was perfect as it would give us some time to explore Majorca before heading off. So we compared notes on the local anchorages and made a rough plan for the first few days that was flexible enough to accommodate earlier or later departures as required.

Our first planned stop was a place called Cala Pi. ‘Cala’ means ‘creek’ in Spanish, and Majorca is famous for its collection of them. This one was strongly recommended for its setting and ‘cosy’ feel, although we were warned it filled up fast. We still needed to provision for the week, so I dropped the others off ashore to go the store whilst I got the boat ready to go. An hour later and I got the call to go collect them again and buzzed back into the shore, where I was surprised to find only Laura and Elliott at the dock… it turns out that they had got so excited in the store that they had bought more than then could carry. So Laura and I traded places in the dinghy, whilst Elliott and I returned to the store to transport the rest of the food (and gin, which was 50% of the price of that in duty free?). Back aboard Serenity, our ability to store all this food was sorely tested, but we all agreed that going hungry this week would was impossible.

Time was getting on by the time we got the anchor up, and with the wind on the nose we decided to motor to Cala Pi. The bay turned out to be nearly empty, perhaps due to being a bit exposed to the standing swell. Even ignoring this, the setting wasn’t what we had expected, so we decided to keep going to the backup anchorage at Sant Jordi. The increased number of boats confirmed that this was a better spot, although holding was a bit suspect. We had only just parked when we noticed a very striking boat follow us in, called Bliss II. A quick google revealed that this was a custom designed yacht that caught the eye of the sailing press, and we all got a case of boat envy. Hearing this, it seemed that Serenity got jealous as she finally settled down in the waves for the first time in four days, meaning we all had a better night’s sleep. Elliott also tried out the paddle board and narrowly avoided being run over by a tripper boat. By the time we got around to cooking on the BBQ it was very dark, which added a degree of difficulty that led to Liv opening her damage tab for the week when she dropped the tongs overboard.

Spinnaker Nicoise and topless dinghy rescue etiquette

Our window for Valencia still seemed to be holding, and our journey upwind the previous day opened up a nice long downwinder for us the next day as we aimed up the coast. With the extra hands aboard, Laura and I were keen to test the spinnaker in conjunction with the pole for the first time. Elliott as always was keen to help out, but seemed slightly less enthusiastic when I confessed I wasn’t entirely sure about how this was going to work out – unfortunately my dinghy sailing experience had never extended to this type of spinnaker, and despite knowledge of the general theory there were more than a few outstanding questions when it came to working out all the ropes. Still, we cobbled something together that looked good and 5 minutes later we were off to the races and screaming downwind at 7-8 knots, which reduced our 35 mile journey journey time to around half a day.

Liv decided to to use the last portion of caught tuna from the freezer for a Salad Nicoise, and headed below to prepare. She has always had an impressive ability to cook whilst under sail (often requiring the use of an extra hand or foot), but her requests for increasingly complex equipment suggested that this may be more than a regular salad. In the meantime, the wind continued to build, but in a somewhat stealthy manner since our speed made it feel less. I glanced down at the windex and jumped when I realised we had started to get gusts of 18 knots – it was definitely time to get the spinnaker down! Laura took on the helm, as we weren’t confident that the auto could hold a steady course with waves, while Elliott and I took to the foredeck to “wrestle the giant squid” that had taken up residence there. After a few minutes, it became apparent that our delay meant more reinforcements were needed and so Liv’s cooking was interrupted to add another body to the fight. This made the difference and Laura and I filed away this experience as one to avoid for our regular doublehanded crewing. With the boat much calmer, it was an ideal time to try the Cordon Bleu Salad Nic (complete with fresh olive tapenade made from scratch!), which certainly raised the bar on our usual lunch gastronomy. An hour or so later, we arrived in Santa Ponsa, where a friendly Kiwi on the boat “Pessimist” helped us find a good spot and advised to put out more chain than normal given tendency for night squalls.

Once we were safely parked, we were able to take a better look at Pessimist, and noticed a couple of interesting contraptions that suggested some long-term liveaboards, so I dinghied over to say hello to Heath, his wife and young daughter. It turns out that they had once had dreams of cruising the world and outfitted their boat for that purpose; however, when it came to sailing their first passage in the Mediterranean, it blew up a bit and Heath realised that this wasn’t an experience he wanted to subject his daughter to. So they decided to leave the boat in Spain and now just spend four weeks on her each summer. It was sad to hear how their dream had run into a wall, but this was the very reason why Laura and I had decided to pull the trigger on Serenity First before the complications of kids. In any case, Heath had some helpful tips, including the design of his patented anti-swell device he dubbed the ‘Flopper-Stopper’ (which earnt more than a giggle from Elliott and me).

Heath was also able to advise on a good parking spot for the dinghy and so after some time relaxing on the new inflatables (a pineapple and glazed donut… Liv’s influence obviously), we headed into shore to check out the local town and grab a meal. Along the way we came across a fellow tender driver who was having outboard issues and I saw another opportunity to build some sailing karma. To make matters slightly awkward, his female partner had decided to leave her bikini top with the oars (i.e. elsewhere), and was now clearly regretting that choice. So I dropped the team ashore and then went back to offer them a lift in the classic manner of Brits abroad confronted with European beach nudity (eyes up), which they gratefully / embarrassingly accepted. They were on a charter boat that had some (clothed) friends aboard waiting for them, who clearly could see the funny side of the situation and immediately went below to find an appropriate payment for my services (Heineken). I had to turn down their offer of joining them for more beers, but returned to shore chuckling away to myself.

The town itself was a bit of a “Brits on tour” spot, and was hosting a Bollywood themed evening on their beach promenade, including some pretty messy-looking paint throwing in the crowd. We found a fairly low key but tasty tapas restaurant, and then headed back to Serenity to learn Liv’s new favourite card game (Yanif) with the festival music providing a clear backing track as it rolled around the bay. Thankfully, they called time around midnight (5 hours earlier than the previous evening, according to Heath), and then we were treated to a free firework show that seemed pretty impressive at the time. However, over the course of the night, we had three major thunder storms pass through and it seemed like Mother Nature had decided to prove her own firework credentials. We were thankful for Heath’s advice on the chain and were able to ‘enjoy’ the show without venturing outside as our anchor display showed us holding firm no matter how the wind changed. Perhaps my earlier investment in sailing karma was already paying off.

The next day was a bit lazier, as we headed to a nearby cove that offered a bit more peace and quiet. We sampled some cocktails at the fancy, but largely empty, beach club but were deterred from staying for more by the silly price point. Since we needed a fairly early start the next day to begin our passage to Valencia, I had expected everyone to turn in fairly early but it seemed we may have left our common sense behind at the beach club. Our solitude afloat gave us the perfect setting to blast tunes under the guise of providing ideas for Liv and Elliott’s wedding playlist, which evolved into an impromptu dance party. It was an evening to remember, but we would all pay the price in varying degrees come the following morning…

Hungover or Seasick… then eating our way across Valencia

We all awoke to a chorus of a alarms the next morning and stumbled into our agreed jobs to get us off on time. There was a good amount of energy initially, which got us all through to the point where the anchor was up and we were motoring away, but then everyone’s hangovers kicked in and things became far more muted. Unfortunately the wind wasn’t due to appear for at least a few hours, and the steady chug of Mick the engine combined with the roll with the swell left over from an earlier storm didn’t help anyone feel better. Elliott in particular was starting to look green, but was keen to avoid medication until he could determine whether this was his usual mild seasickness or just a bad hangover. Being the innovative chap that he is, he productively used the time curled up on the cockpit floor to devise a 6 point Elliott vomit scale, which is captured fully in the notes below for the broader scientific and medical communities.

Before he was able to reach the climax of a “6” on his new scale, Laura intervened and administered Dramamine. This led to an immediate 15 minute sleep followed by a significant improvement in his condition – definitively not a hangover then (see video below of him returning to a zero). The rest of us were also starting to perk up by this point, helped by the return of the wind and the growing sense that we were making great time towards our destination. The weather was a bit unsettled for most of the day with thunder storms scattered all round the horizon, but we managed to thread the needle and stay dry whilst also maintaining average boat speeds over 6 knots. By the time we had finished the delicious Paella dinner that Liv and Laura pulled together, we were clearly on track for a record distance over 24 hours, and so we divided ourselves into two watch groups to tackle to night shifts.

Elliott and Laura took the first three hours and the self proclaimed “Team Orphan” did a reasonable job keeping the boat moving; however, they didn’t have to make such a lot of noise doing it, and Liv and I both came up on deck around midnight with a case of the grumps. Team Orphan were rebranded Team Fiddle, and the self declared Alpha Watch decided to teach them a thing or two about night sailing. We spent two minutes adjusting a couple of lines at the start and then didn’t touch any sail controls for the rest of our watch. Our only other activity was making cups of tea, eating Haribo, and rolling back the biminy so we could see the stars better :). It was therefore unsurprising that Laura and Elliott both emerged remarking on how well they had slept…”your welcome.” They paid us back though as morning came around, when Liv and I were both struggling to keep our eyes open and so they took over our shift early (whilst rebranding us as Sleepy Watch).

Our arrival into Valencia just as the marina opened couldn’t have been better timed, and the only person who was sad we’d arrived was Liv due to our failure in catching a tuna – she’s a sushi fan and wanted to “bite the fish like an apple with wasabi on her tongue” (her words). We had literally had lures in the water for every minute of daylight, but neither Robbo, nor Marcus, or the newly christened Jamie (covered in next week’s post) were able to score. I comforted Liv that by the time she visited us in St Lucia, we’d have worked the kinks out and fish would be on the menu every day.

The marina was a stunningly cheap €24 a night, which was made even better given it’s amazing setting and facilities. It had been expanded ahead of the America’s Cup that was hosted here in 2007, and we were pleased to get nearly two full days to explore the surrounding city. After people had caught up on some sleep, we spent a bit of time on the beach before heading off to a nearby tapas restaurant (La FABrica). It was without doubt the most hipster restaurant I’ve visited outside of Shoreditch (decorated with old basketball hoops and 1970’s school desks) and apparently owned by a eclectic Spaniard who alternated between a number of personalities that made the meal an experience to remember (mostly in a good way). The food was great, but we’d caution other visitors to go with an open mind with regard to the waiter / customer relationship!

The next morning was Liv & El’s last full day on the boat and they were both keen to visit the city centre. It was a day where we all fell in love with Valencia, as we toured it’s amazing food market (wall to wall ham), recharged ourselves with coffees in small piazzas and wandered around the central gardens, before returning back to the winding streets for more people watching from the comfy vantage point of a local wine bar. They offered a novel help-yourself tapas spread, and rewarded drinkers who chose to buy by the glass over the bottle with extremely generous pours. The night finished in a slightly more upmarket restaurant as a way for us to thank Liv & El’s for their help re-letting our flat (e.g. financing the Atlantic crossing), where the food was once more all we could talk about. They headed off early next morning, and we were left to reflect on what a special week we’d been able to enjoy because of Serenity. The boat felt a much quieter place (in a bad way) with them gone, but we consoled ourselves that they be back aboard come Christmas time for more fun and adventures.

Notes: the Jeans Nausea Scale

1. Something’s not right, but not sure what and still happy to try to eat
2. Food has now lost it’s appeal, and being sick is a distinct possibility
3. Material attention is now being diverted to not being sick, but still a chance this could pass
4. Preferred communication is now just nodding and shaking head, and the overall vomit risk is high and imminent
5. Lost ability to speak, starting to dry heave and desperately scanning for empty buckets
6. The purge cycles begins