Ibiza - Mallorca september 2018

We zouden met 5 richting Balearen zeilen. T.g.v. ernstige gezondheidsproblemen bij crewleden zelf of familie gingen er plots 3 niet meer mee. 1 maand voor vertrek kreeg ik deze berichten binnen. Ik zou via bemanningsbanken nog 2 opstappers vinden. Pam en Michiel werden het. Michiel die behoorlijk wat zeilervaring heeft en Pam die na periode van hard werken er dringend even tussenuit wou.

September werd gekenmerkt door een onstabiele weerperiode. Heel veel onweer en dus was het tussen de onweersbuien door dat we vanuit Valencia alvast richting Denia en Javea gingen om daar dan een goed moment af te wachten om in daguren naar Ibiza over te steken. Dat heeft toch verscheidene dagen gekost.

Al gauw werd duidelijk dat we Mallorca niet meer zouden halen. Uiteraard niks verkeerd met Ibiza.

Jan kwam even op bezoek. Hier zijn kort verslagje in het Engels

This journey I went to Ibiza with two youngsters. Pam 23 and Michiel 19, the youngest hop-alonger in the JR history until now. Pam is the outgoing one, Michiel is more laidback, but they are both heavily into music, so my knowledge of contemporary pop culture is brought up to date, mainly because of the particular Dutch rap and hip hop taste of our Benjamin on board. Did you know Kraantje Papie?  Right, me neither. Both aren’t the best sailors, but keen to learn and mainly have the intention to just have a ‘chillaxed’ vacation. Boeien! (Trendy Dutch youth speak, kinda means, ‘whatever’ or ‘good as well’)

We encountered strange weather for the time of year. September is not normally the time when you have lots of thunderstorms, but climate change, you know … . So when Jan came over for a few days, we rented a car and discovered Ibiza on a road trip. Checking out a new environment with Jan mainly results in checking out bars or a great tapa place. This was no different.

On our drive, we settled down at a Chirungiuta, a basic wooden beach bar that sometimes also serves simple dishes, to enjoy the view of a the small enclosed beach and a morning cup-a-coffee. It was still early, so we had the place to ourselves. Yeah right. I think it was when we took our second sip, a tourist bus struck the place with mainly English life stock aboard. I choose my words carefully. Pale white or bright red skinned, loud and (I suppose I still should say ‘dressed’) in very unfashionable shorts, sandals and sleeveless T shirts, they left the bus for about 4 minutes, armed with cell phones in camera mode. A picture of the beach, the sea … and all of a sudden we came to the conclusion that, when you sit at a local bar, you are supposed to be a part of native couleur local. For no obvious reason we shamelessly were photographed from all angles, whether we liked it or not.

People are strange when they’re on holiday. We probably too, but that is to be excused. We are sailors after all.