Discharged.

18^th July 2021

Puerto Pollença, Mallorca – Cala Xarraca, Ibiza via Port De Las Caletas, Ibiza

Discharge. On the downside this word conjures up images of puss oozing out of festering wounds, while on the upside it can denote what happens to a cargo at the end of a long voyage. For Ruffian ‘discharge’ ushers a new era of freedom as Fiona’s shoulder is on the mend and we’ve been discharged from the care of Palma Clinic*.

Making our last trips to Palma, Fiona once again had the ‘fun’ of having a needle inserted deep into her shoulder where more magic fluid was pumped in helping to free her joints, reduce her pain and increase her movement. With a care program in place, a list of instructions for us to follow we were discharged and went on our way knowing that getting Fiona fixed before crossing oceans was the right thing to do.

Although we had freedom to leave, our way was blocked by weather so we took to the roads to discover some inland delights in Mallorca. The velvet smooth roads slid under the tyres of the Brompton and the wind blew us on our way to a volcanic plug that Iain fancied climbing, with a gigantic sinkhole at its centre which Iain thought would be spectacular.

This was not one of Iain’s most inspired ideas as the walk started through scrub, climbed steeply up under the raging sun and the main sight at the top was less of a gigantic depression and more of a slight dip. At the top the ‘mirador’ sign should have given a clue as to the tourist friendliness of this endeavour as we found it slanted at a jaunty angle, covered in barbed wire and pointed down a non-existent path.

Waiting out the rain and the wind things finally turned in our favour and we headed offshore. The usual positions were adopted, that of facing backwards while reading books, with Ruffian’s sheets eased and blue everywhere we looked. To finally put some miles under Ruffian’s keel after her month of containment in Mallorca was fabulous and all with Fiona being able to manage Ruffian without any fear or pain.

Although we had switched islands, we had not switched activities. Once again, we found a perfect bay for Ruffian to sit in, away from the madding hordes with all sorts of paddle-boarding adventures waiting to us.

As the sun peeked its nose above the horizon we pushed off in our paddleboards and ventured along the coast. Caves that we just couldn’t see from afar littered the coastline and venturing inside them the low light filtered through underwater tunnels producing blue up-lighting that we usually only see on superyachts.

As the heat of the sun intensified the paddle-boards made for the most amazing sunbathing platforms as we lay back, dragged our toes in the water and drifted on the fickle breeze.  Then snorkelling the blue waters, the sea was alive around us. ‘Friendly’ jellyfish serenely floated by while we watched Flying Gurnards dance on the seabed looking for sustenance of any sort.

Having our freedom reinstated is spectacular, but more spectacular still is Fiona is on the mend, we have once again made the right decision, and in front of us there are miles and miles of ocean to explore.

* Or more accurately we have discharged ourselves for the care of Palma Clinic.