No sting and no trunks (Ibiza)

 

Ibiza: Another location - like Corfu town - where the preconceived notion of the place didn't match the reality.

If someone had asked me my expectations of Ibiza, I'd have described sweaty all night towns full of fluro clad, whistle blowing ravers dancing to hardcore dance music, loudly pumped from massive speakers on every corner. Shifty drug dealers, swollen lipped Instagram influencers in overpriced nightclubs, and marinas full of gaudy mega yachts - generally somewhere to briefly enjoy the spectacle from the sidelines then rapidly withdraw.

What I didn’t expect was the UNESCO world heritage listed beauty of the North coast, bays with courteous neighbours who greet you with a smile, a wave and an ‘Hola’.

We’ve spent the last three days in one such beautiful bay, lots of yacht neighbours, but the bay is big enough to accommodate us all with plenty of room to spare. Canoes and SUPs (stand up paddlebords) seem to be the most popular recreation, with a constant flow of people paddling their merry way to and fro.

The shore is lined with intricately nature carved sandstone cliffs topped with evergreen trees. In places this slopes down to an occasional beach that leads into the clear turquoise water. The small beaches are busy, but not quite packed.

I did a bit of snorkeling along the cliffs, seeing the now familiar range of Mediterranean fish species gliding along below and around me. A thankfully more unusual sight was an ornate graceful jellyfish who’s tentacles came worryingly close to me. Having googled it later to see if it was poisonous: yes it was. A mauve stinger (Latin name: Pelagia Noctiluca) who's venom pain is described as being somewhere between intense and excruciating - glad he didn’t come close enough to give me a tickle.

Leaving there this morning (to head round to the West coast) we were happily motor sailing along in light breeze, when a mysterious and worryingly loud clunk sounded from the engine. I checked the engine below, no obvious signs of trauma... we started up again and headed on. We soon realised that despite having the engine on, and at higher revs than previously, we weren’t actually moving any faster than we would with just the sails. On a hunch, I decided to get in the water and have a look at the propeller. Wearing nothing but a mask and snorkel, I took a deep breath and ducked under our hull to check things out. We had collected a large nylon woven grain sack that had neatly wrapped its way around the fins of our propeller. After a quick breath, and to tell Chez what I found, I went back down, and with a series of yanks managed to pull it free. Glad to have worked out what it was, and been able to resolve it so quickly. We headed on our way. As I write this we are just coming up to the town of San Antonio... we’re not stopping, I suspect it might be a little bit closer to my expectations of Ibiza than the bay we’ve just left.