Used boat test
Peter Poland goes port-hopping in Mallorca and Menorca aboard a chartered Elan Impression 434
Port-hopping in Mallorca and Menorca in an Elan Impression 434
Over the years I’ve chartered throughout the Med and northern Europe aboard a fleet of different yachts as part of a motley crew of semi delinquent OAPs that now included a retired film-maker, an ex brewer and a farmer. Greece is still top of my list for good-value, laid-back holiday cruising in the sun.
We ventured up to Marstrand another year and dodged around the fearsome Swedish rocks littering that coastline. We also tried Sardinia, but flinched at the eye-popping mooring prices. Never again. On another occasion we pottered from Malta up to the delights of Sicily, finding Syracuse in particular to be very special. And latterly we took a punt on Croatia (testing the Hanse 415) and reckon this is well worth another visit.
So what about 2018? After the usual
barrage of emails between the skipper’s Umbrian base and us lot in the UK, it was decided to give the Balearics a go. We elected for two weeks in early June, when charter costs and overnight boat parking should be cheaper. The first week was Palma, Mallorca, to Mahon, Menorca, with the return journey the following week with an entirely different crew (same skipper).
After considering an Oceanis 461 and an Oceanis Clipper 393, it was decided to go for a slightly younger Elan Impression 434. This Rob Humphreys design is known to perform well and ours was of 2005 vintage. It looked good and had a decent spec; including a fully battened mainsail rather than an in-mast roller reefing triangle.
Having fought our way through a crowded Palma airport we took a taxi to La Lonja Marina to seek out our boat. This Elan Impression 434 rejoiced in the name of Cocomaluco. On first impression (so to speak), the boat looked sleek but a bit tired for its age.
Having stocked the boat and spent a pleasant Saturday evening out in Palma, Sunday brought the skipper (late, thanks to striking French air traffic controllers) shortly
followed by the charter company’s boat-briefer. We pointed out that the engine sounded noisy and that the internal and external woodwork, teak deck and sails looked decidedly tired for a 2005 boat. He explained that Cocomaluco usually goes to the Canaries for the winter charter season. Obviously this boat worked hard for its living. Still, at least (unlike some boats we have chartered) it had proper offshore safety gear, including liferaft, lifejackets and harnesses, EPIRB, softwood cones et al. We just hoped we wouldn’t need them.
Cabrera
Skipper had pre-booked a yellow mooring buoy at the island of Cabrera, around 25 miles south-east from Palma, so on went the noisy engine and off we set. This sheltered and uncrowded bay – where anchoring is forbidden – promised to be an ideal first night stop.
Leaving Palma marina involved a lot of weaving around quays and superyachts - but once in open water we hauled up the sails. The main was so tired and stretched that once up (with a bar taught halyard) the luff still sagged. The genoa was not a lot better with a torn and tattered anti UV leech protection strip. There was no doubt that Cocomaluco and her sails had worked hard over the years.
Still, the sea was calm, the wind was gentle and we were on holiday. Cabrera’s bay was well hidden from a distance, but as we got closer a beautiful natural harbour opened up, guarded at its entrance by an impressive 15th century castle perched high on the cliffs.
As we arrived the sky clouded over; so once we had located and tied up to our yellow buoy, we decided not to launch the dinghy and explore the empty shoreline – attractive though it looked. Instead, we relaxed while Bos’n put a chicken pie in the oven and cooked some fresh vegetables. More corks popped as the sun went down.
Majestic Mallorca
Monday dawned with a stronger breeze and Bos’n occupied the galley again, producing one of his famous breakfast fry-ups. Skipper’s plan was to sail round the back of Cabrera Island and head for Colom. But as we rounded the headland, ever-larger waves rolled in. So it was a case of about turn and take the easier route. Now a following wind filled our geriatric genoa and the Impression 434 sailed straight and fast.
We passed successive small calas (coves). All looked attractive from a distance but as we headed in, they were blocked off with small yellow buoys. These, we realised, meant no entry and/or no anchoring in shallower water where holiday swimmers frolicked.
So on we sailed, passing cala after cala. They were all full. We gave Colom a miss and finally poked our nose into Cala Magrana. And very nice it looked too. Just one Sunseeker and one Fairline powerboat were swinging wildly on the end of their rope anchor warps, and it looked as though one elderly sun bathing crew was about to push off. So we dropped anchor and hoped for the best.
As we dined in the cockpit and the sun went down a heavy swell rolled in. It turned into a very uncomfortable night as the boat rocked and rolled on the end of its chain. So we weren’t surprised to read the next morning the pilot book’s warning against anchoring overnight in this cala.
On Tuesday morning we pondered on where to go. Initially, it was decided to head for the north coast of Mallorca. But after
sailing for a while Skipper reckoned the wind looked good for the west coast of Menorca so we changed course, aiming for Ciutadella. Then the wind swung through the best part of 180° and increased. So we found ourselves on a boisterous close reach in ever rising seas. This was much to Cocomaluco’s liking as she churned along at good speed and under easy control. The only irritation was the starboard winch handle. This smashed knuckles against the bimini strut whenever anyone tried to rotate the sheet winch through 360°.
Storm bound in Menorca
The closer we got to Ciutadella, the bigger the seas grew. And the narrow harbour entrance still remained invisible. Then along came a fast ferry to show us the way, down came the sails and Cocomaluco motored through the narrow entrance.
Even in early June this attractive harbour looked worryingly full. An official in a RIB led us to the very last available berth right at the harbour mouth, where the swell rolled in... oh well. The walk above the harbour and into the pretty town was a pleasure, as were the beers in an open square followed by a stroll past churches and down scenic narrow alleys back towards the head of the harbour.
“I want sardines,” said Bos’n. So we trotted from one jolly looking restaurant to another until we found a patron who said he could oblige. Then we strolled back along the harbour walls, reaching the boat after midnight.
Nobody slept well. The stern lines screeched and snatched as the swell rolled in, jerking the boat to and fro. The next morning the wind was getting up. Locals reckoned the forecast was bad. One said ‘North winds and 4m seas are coming’. Another yacht skipper advised us to ‘avoid the north coast. Stay another day in Ciutadella or head south’.
Bos’n and Skipper decided we should explore the north coast.
Once we’d left the port we had the sea very much to ourselves. The waves were getting bigger but the wind – while strong – had by no means reached the promised gale force. Cocomaluco was enjoying herself. There is no doubt that this Humphreys design performs well and is a pleasure to sail. But most of the steering was given to the autopilot. Meanwhile the crew watched the impressive, largely untouched coastline roll past.
With northerly gale force winds promised, Fornells harbour looked the most protected destination for anchoring that night. But we were in good time, so elected to pop into Cala Morell for a leisurely lunch on the way. Once again, a narrow entrance surrounded by high cliffs opened up into a pretty little harbour.
After lunch, the weather forecast was for wind from the north increasing to around 35 knots later. So it was time to get to Fornells harbour. The pilot book warned that weed and mud could make the holding poor, but there were plenty of other yachts lying at anchor, so we dropped ours, had an excellent lamb supper, went to bed and hoped for the best.
Thursday kicked off earlier than expected. At 0300 I was awakened by a very strong wind and the yacht’s wild motion. So I poked my head through the forehatch to see a riding light on a yacht ahead of our bow that had been astern of us when we first anchored. We had clearly dragged our anchor and somehow managed to pass several yachts without hitting them. The Navionics app on Bos’n's mobile phone confirmed that we had dragged but were now holding and swinging side to side, so skipper and I volunteered to do anchor watch until daylight while the others retired.
Anchor nasty
At about 0600 skipper fired up the engine and we three peered over the bow as the winch wound in the chain. Then the anchor broke surface with two big black power cables (not shown on our chart) looped over its plough. Leaning over the bow, I tilted the angle of the plough with the boathook and watched the cables slip off and sink towards the seabed. Phew!
We motored to a different area and re-anchored, but dragged again after 30 minutes, dredging up mud and weed with our anchor. Third time lucky, our anchor held further up the harbour opposite a smart-looking yacht club and sailing school.
After a well-deserved breakfast, some dozed as Cocomaluco careered around on the end of a long chain. Skipper and Anchorman launched the tiny dinghy and went ashore.
Returning in the afternoon, they declared Fornells to be empty, largely devoid of
shops and rather overpriced. So a pre-cooked chicken, buttered carrots and a spud+onion fry-up made an excellent onboard dinner, accompanied by ample wine and followed by our inexhaustible supply of wives’ cakes and buns. Then, at long last, the wind eased so we enjoyed a peaceful night at anchor.
Friday morning dawned calm and quiet, although the leftover swell on leaving Fornells’ relative shelter was spectacular. Our target was Mahon, but a lunchtime detour took us into Addaya, a pretty creek reached through a winding passage past tightly packed and naff holiday houses.
After lunch, it was time to head for Mahon. The entrance past old fortifications is impressive, giving a nice view of the attractive harbour as it opens up. After refilling with r100 worth of diesel (not bad for a week), I hopped ashore to pay for a berth. No way José. Even in early June you need to book. We finally found a slot in Menorca Marina at the very top of the harbour. We were lucky. And at r120 for two nights it wasn’t too pricey.
Our last meal ashore was also a success. Having strolled around the old city, we fell upon a small square complete with open air dining. When we wandered back down the hill through lanes full of busy bars, teeming with smartly dressed people, the place was still hopping at 0230. We all slept soundly before being collected by a taxi and whisked to the nearby airport the next morning.
The second week was blessed with more benevolent conditions and Skipper got the hard-worked Cocomaluco back to Palma without incident.