The first day in a trip is always crazy, over all, if the people don't know each other, they're coming from different points of the planet, can't speak the same language and most of them never sailed before. The only ones with true sailing experiences were Tim and me (and Jamie if we count with Croatia, too). The rest ones were rookies. We split in two groups: one for the supplies needed in the trip: fruit, some carbohydrates and most important, water; the other group was dedicated to review the boat. The Ipar Haizea has a rolling main sail (the sail rolls inside the mast), quite typical in bareboats but I didn't like it at all. Fernando had promised to give us a classic main sail, that I preferred much than the rolling one, so the first to do was installing the good one. It was not so easy because we had to leave the rolling sail inside the mast so the maneuvres of hoisting and hauling had to be done very carefully to avoid a mess between both sails. After that, Tim and me took a deep look to the deck, bow to stern, to get familiarized with all the gadgets. The only thing I left to check was the omnipresent GPS, a tool that I never use if I have a nautical chart and a good pilot book. The ones Fernando gave me were excellents: french charts and a brittish pilot: we could sail safe.
Para cuando zarpamos del puerto de Palma ya había pasado el mediodía. Coincidimos con la regata Conde de Barcelona de veleros clásicos, que es uno de los eventos más importantes del año en esas aguas y realmente vimos algunos veleros acojonantes. Pero pronto dejamos todo eso atrás y el viento del noroeste nos empujó rápidamente hacia el sur. Cada uno fue buscando su sitio poco a poco en el barco. Siempre es lo mismo, uno va dando tumbos de una borda a otra hasta que finalmente encuentra acomodo en el sitio más insospechado. Por ejemplo, el bote auxiliar estibado en la proa y puesto del revés es siempre una excelente hamaca, y la botavara, si está fijada con una buena retenida, es un estupendo sillón.
Finally, we couldn't launch before noon. At the same time, the bay of Palma wasfull of old sailboats taking part in the Conde de Barcelona Classic Sailboats race, one of the most important events of the year in these waters. Some of the boats were really breathtaking. Abnyway we left all this away soon and the wind from northeast took us fast to the south. Each of us tried to find its place aboard. It's always the same: one starts moving around the boat on side to the other until he finally finds a comfortable place in the most strange point. For example, a knocked dinghy, once tied up on the bow, makes an excellent sunbed, and the boom, if fixed with a good preventer, is an acceptable armchair.
Para no meter mucha caña el primer día, esa tarde fondeamos en Colonia de San Jordi tras unas pocas horas de navegación. La bahía no está demasiado resguardada y además hay un montón de rocas con las que conviene tener cuidado pero a cambio puedes fondear a apenas unas decenas de metros de la costa. Tras el fondeo vino el primer problema (que luego sería constante en el resto de la travesía): cómo transportar a 9 personas en un auxiliar apto para 3, máximo 4. La única solucion era hacer varios viajes. Aquel día lo hicimos a base de remos pero estaba claro que, o usábamos el motorcito fueraborda, pese al ruido y al olor, o aquello iba a ser una pesadilla.
I didn't want to stress the people just in the first day, so this evening we anchored in Colonia de Sant Jordi after a few hours of sailing. The bay is not well protected and there are many rocks under the sea surface but, in change, it's possible to anchor just a few dozens of meters off the shore. After the anchoring we had the first problem (which was repeated along all the trip): how to deliver 9 people in a dinghy for just 3, maximum 4. The only solution was make several trips. That day we did it by rowing but it was clear that we'd had to use the little outboard engine despite of the smoke and noise or deliveries would became a nigthmare.
Aquella noche cenamos en un restaurante del pueblo, donde un camarero cubano dio pie a toda suerte de comentarios ingenioso y a las primeras lecciones de español castizo: "¡¡Al lorito, chaval!!"
Our first nigh out we had the dinner in a restaurant in the village, where a cuban waiter was the target of several jokes and comments about the spanish slang: "Al lorito, chaval!! (Beware of parrot, kid!!).
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