Another Night Of Knockin' About

The winds were gusting at 35 knots, or over 60 km/hr. or 50 mph.  The boats were trying to jump out of their berths like racehorses.  A couple of times we heard a very loud noise close by & asked each other, "What was THAT?!" & we rushed out on deck. 



On Top Of The Wave



 



Surfing Down The Wave



Serge thought one of the bumpers had burst on impact with our neighbour.  Another time he watched from on deck while our 60 ft. powerboat neighbour drifted closer & closer, within 8 feet & you ask yourself, "Is it going to stop?"  Yes, it did, but we found out the next day that one of his bow lines had snapped, that was probably the loud pop we heard.  We hadn't had a night this bad since our very 1st night aboard during the famous "bura" winds.  It's basically a feckin' hurricane.  Surveying the scene in the morning Serge found a 6 in. piece of plastic moulding that did not come from our boat.  Some one had broken something & it was on our boat.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Watching For The Next Wave



After 3 nights we scheduled our departure for 8 am.  We woke up at 8 am., the Spanish culture is starting to wear off on us.  They don't party or dine until after 10 pm. so no one is raring to go bright & early, no wonder their economy is in the tank.  The sailing was wonderful in the bay, nice & flat, & then it gradually gets windier & wavier, & around the point Serge wants to turn back. I say NO, SOLDIER ON!!  A couple of minutes later, a huge wave breaks over the bow & rumbles towards ME, in the cockpit.  Serge again suggests we turn back & I say, good idea, LET'S!  He then notices a band flapping beside the boat in the waves, I grab ahold & it turns out it's attached to the bow. As I pull it in with much effort, I see it's the ice cream cone bouy from the anchor chain, to mark our anchor in a bay.  It's full of sea water, so weighs a ton, but I muscle it onboard.  We end up anchoring in a quiet bay & taking the dinghy ashore with the outboard, something we had yet to do.  Everything worked GREAT! 



 



Safe At Aanchor. Whew!



We'll try to get to Ibiza again tomorrow morning, but as I write this, we're in a British pub (drinking beer),full of British men drinking beer, & 1 woman drinking beer & a boy watching football.  Wait, now we're all watching a TV program.  What a bunch of silly, corny crap, no wonder the world is going to hell in a handbasket, the pillars of British righteousness have been reduced to porridge.