Mallorca

Two days later, an eleven-hour sail had us across the passage between Ibiza and Mallorca, the main island in the Balearics, and arriving at the Cala d’Egos.

More posh yachts

This was yet another a small bay, surrounded by tall, scrubby cliffs, with a sandy bottom that was well seeded with anchored boats of all kinds.

Here, the upper end of the market was valued in the multiple tens of millions of dollars and measured scores of metres long and 4 or 5 decks high. Happily, we weren’t the only scruffy ones there to keep the tone of the place down.

Jellyfish

We spent a day here (D’s birthday) and passed the time snorkelling, doing long swims (which got D an impressive jellyfish sting) and lounging on the boat.

On the second morning, we upped anchor and heading out of the bay, turned west around the island. Calm weather made for perfect conditions to savour this surprisingly spectacular stretch of coastline.

As we passed through the Freu (strait?) de Dragonera, the multiple light houses and 16^th century Spanish watch towers of the Isla Dragonera, perched high on the island’s sheer cliffs and steep rock and scrub slopes, glowed in the clear, early light. On the eastern shore, the town of Sant Elm was waking up slowly in the shadows of the dark ranges to its east.

Western Mallorca

Rounding the point Sa Galera Grossa, the cliffs of Mallorca’s west coast revealed themselves, as a long series of ever hazier blue bluffs, each frowning contemptuously over the brightly sparkling blue waters beneath them. Between each of these bluffs cliffs and steep ravines plunged unforgivingly into the deep waters below or dropped precipitously onto bare rocky scree slopes.

In some places these slopes relented enough to allow vegetation; sparse grass on thin pale soils or stunted dark green forests that lapped at the base of cliffs and flowed along fissures and rocky shelves down into steep gullies. In just a few places a hut, a house or a hamlet could be seen but on almost every solemn, rounded bluff or rocky highpoint, a stone Spanish tower was silhouetted against the blue sky.

Spectacular anchorages

We anchored that evening in the corner of a long shallow bay, in the shelter of the Punta de sa Foradada.

Green forested slopes rose steeply to grey cliffs off our bow, while off to our port side Punta de sa Foradada, bored through by a giant hole, slowly grew black and featureless in the thickening dusk.

The next day we anchored briefly in Soller’s bright and busy harbour and went ashore to buy some engine oil and groceries before heading further north along the coast. Our stop that night was Enseñada sa Costera.

Here, we anchored in the shallows, while perhaps 40m away, red rock and dark green forest rose up abruptly to form a vaulting arc high above us.

As the sun set, the rocks caught the orange light and an intense glow seemed to wash out from them, giving the air a feeling of silky texture.