Menorca

It was just the two of us now. Well into the season, we had fully adjusted to live aboard life. The boat was once again home. To Jocelyn, there seemed to be more living space on Windleblo this season, a sense she attributed to the warmer weather. Last season, most of our time was spent below decks to escape the Scottish cool and damp. Now, sunny skies and dry air invited us outdoors, effectively doubling our living space. We strung a hammock from the mast to the forestay and broke out the deck chairs.

But the new climate had a sinister side. As July turned into August the pleasant warmth turned into unrelenting heat. On the plus side, by now we were both fairly well bronzed despite being careful to wear hats and use sun screen. I guess that’s what happens when you live in your bathing suit all day long. On the minus side, the heat was exacting a toll on our morale. A Northern Californian and a New Englander, we began to wonder whether we were cut out for it. Only the night brought temporary relief.

Our apparent inability to adjust to the siesta schedule didn’t help matters. More than a few times we rode our bikes or took a bus into town in the early afternoon only to find all the shops, museums, and restaurants closed. After about the fourth time, we started to get it and realized since we weren’t Englishmen we must be mad dogs. Only by learning the hard way did we finally start to get up and out early, then return to the boat for lunch and siesta, emerging once again as the sun got low. Very soon, this schedule started to make a lot of sense.

On August 2^nd under partly cloudy skies, we pointed the boat northeast from Cala De Sa Font, Mallorca, and, 25 nautical miles later, backed our boat into a Med mooring at Cuidadela on Menorca’s western shore. Though at €106 a night this was the most expensive marina we had ever visited, we were ready for the conveniences afforded by being tied to a dock. Plus, the forecast called for a bit of a blow over the next two days, adding to the attractiveness of being safely tucked in to a marina.

Until this season, Med mooring was to us a mysterious docking method described in cruising seminars and Mediterranean pilot books. In Scandinavia, the Baltic, Scotland, and Ireland, we had come across a fair number of docking techniques, including alongside, finger pontoons, even stern anchor/bow to rock. I dare say we had become a competent docking team, having outgrown the fear and loathing of docking we had experienced in our inaugural season. Now, we had added Med mooring to our docking repertoire.

In Med mooring, you turn your boat around about 50 meters from the dock and then reverse engines to get enough steerageway to guide the boat to the dock stern first. Typically, you have to fit your boat into a narrow slot between two other boats already moored, which makes steering in reverse a bit challenging, especially if there is a cross wind. Once close to the dock, you stop the boat and accept the Med mooring line from the dock hand while handing him or her your stern line. The Med mooring line is typically a small line attached to the dock on one end and to a larger line on the other. The larger line runs along the bottom perpendicular to the dock about 50 meters or so out to a large chain or concrete block securely moored to the bottom. With the Med mooring line in hand, you walk up the side of the deck to the bow, take a bight around the bow cleat, pull up slack, and make the Med mooring line fast. It helps to have gloves as Med mooring lines are notoriously fouled with gooey mud, razor sharp mollusk shells, or scratchy barnacles.

Why do they do it this way? Well, the answer is simple. With Med mooring, far more boats can fit into a marina, and therefore far more docking fees can be collected, than is possible with alternative docking methods.

Once installed in Cuidadela, we took out our Brompton folding bicycles and started exploring.

Cuidadela proved to be a delightful town. The island’s original capital, it holds the soul of Menorca. When the British declared the port city of Mahon 21 miles across the island to be the new center of Menorcan government in 1722, the Catholic Bishop disregarded their directive, and the island’s main church remains in Cuidadela to this day. With facades of rose and dusty yellow stone, Gothic and Baroque buildings line the narrow streets. A large section of the town center is off limits to cars, lending a timeless, slower pace to the place.

We strolled along the cobblestoned streets in the relative cool of the evening, stopping for gelato and people watching. In equal shares, natives mixed with tourists to fill the central square, many seemingly engaged in activity similar to ours. Our first impression of Menorca was unlike either of the two Balearic islands we had visited thus far. In contrast to the hipness of Ibiza and the commercial plasticity of Mallorca, Menorca had a laid back tranquil feel. No one was rushing here and the people appeared authentic.

We passed two relaxing days in Cuidadela, taking bike rides around town and window shopping throughout the town center. We bought some of the incredible cheese the island is known for and sampled a special variety of gin and tonic, a legacy drink from 18^th century British occupation. Jocelyn bought a pair of trademark Menorcan leather sandals as a memento.

After our time in Cuidadela was up, we shoved off and sailed a short distance around the northwest corner of the island to anchor in Cala Morell where we had arranged a rendezvous with our friends John Renna and Jackie Addis, newly arriving crew from Albuquerque.