2nd July 2021
Cala Es Trenc, Mallorca – Cala de ses Ortigues, Mallorca via Palmanova & Camp de Mar, Mallorca
When Henry Ford first created the Model-T he didn’t offer a range of options or trims. His marketing however stated that you could have it in any colour; as long as it’s black. Similar could be said for Mallorca, you can have any colour you like; as long as it’s blue. Blue skies, blue seas, blue horizons, blue birds, and blue boats. Everything is blue.
The blue waters of Es Trenc were enchanting, but became dangerously swelly and the draw of what was around the next headland drove us on. The blue water slipped under our keel, while we sat under the blue skies where we could finally anchor in the playground of the rich in Palmanova.
As we motored around the huge fornicatoriums with their noisy motorised toys hanging off their sterns and with their stereos blazing noise across the bay we hoped to find a small pocket of sand that hadn’t been taken. Like a small oasis in the desert the sand appeared, our anchor dropped and we were secure, surrounded by boats that had all the money in the world but none of the class.
The next blues came think and fast. With the blue of Palmanova behind us we resolved to be brave and go to one of the blue tourist hotspot Cala’s, Portals Vells. As we floated on top of our shadow with the waters turning Ruffian blue, we were amazed at being almost alone, masks were donned and the underwater world was explored.
While we swum alone with the fishies and were immersed in their blue world we we’re oblivious to the events happening above water. Then, with our heads poking above the water and with Ruffian in view, we witnessed a different scene to the one we’d left. Ruffian was surrounded, Ruffian was not alone, it was time to once again find solitude and get off the beaten tourist track and find our own personal bluedom.
Studying the charts and weather and most importantly spying a bay that wouldn’t appeal to others we found a world blueness that we were craving (and somewhere safe that Fiona could leave Iain alone to continue yet more physio). At Camp de Mar our time was filled playing in the blue water, jumping in the blue water and cooling off in the blue water, but all this blue water could only give us so much exercise.
The hills surrounding us beckoned and on top was not only a view asking to be seen but also tower that drew us in. Hiking up, with sweat dripping off our brows, the layer after layer of hill stretched off into the distance and bay after bay opened up below us. Ruffian sat in near isolation whilst the other bays in our view were dotted with boats, they had their shared blueness, but we have our very own blueness.
The message was clear that if we wanted out own personal blue we had to go way off the beaten track and away from the pilot books guidance. Sailing along the northern coast we spied a bay that looked ideal, Cala des Ortigues. The water was turning the cliffs blue, the wings of the seagulls were turning blue, the water was flat and most importantly it had no mention in the pilot.
The anchor plunged into the depths of the water and we watched the chain fall and lay on the seabed far below. Two more big splashes followed and we were once again resplendent in our very own personal world which could be any colour we wanted; as long as it was blue.
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