Cala de Port Roig there and back again

Cala de Port Roig is not a port, but a very attractive anchorage surrounded on three sides by sloping reddish cliffs. The journey here took two hours from Espalmador in flat calm past quite beautiful scenery. Once inside the Cala we hunted around for a patch of sand to drop the anchor into, much better holding than weed, and noticed that of the two other yachts there one was Zephyrus, whom we had not seen since Calpe. We radioed them and invited them over for Tapas. That evening the sky became overcast and the clouds turned reddish yellow in the setting sun. Rather ominous we thought and so we double-checked all the weather forecasts we could. All was explained a little later as rain started to fall and turned our yacht into a Martian landscape. Each drop of rain brought about four ounces of red dust and very soon the entire deck was covered!

The next day the weather brightened and brought stronger winds from a westerly direction, from which we had little shelter. By nine o'clock in the evening the wind had built to an extent that quite large swell was finding its way into the bay making life very uncomfortable. We decided to try and leave, to head east and then find shelter at Ibiza town. This would be a three-hour trip in the dark but all the hazards en route were well lit. After just half an hour we turned around. The wind was blowing force seven and the lightning was threading its way across the night sky. From my sheltered spot below all I could see was a manic grin on Chris' face occasionally lit by bolts of lightning as he was lashed in the face by rain driven by a force seven wind. Just as well he was enjoying it, as I had no desire to go on deck. As we re-anchored in the relative calm of the bay we had only just left we decided that it was actually quite sheltered. To further increase the extent of our folly just half an hour later the wind died and with it the swell and we had a very comfortable night. The next day, to be on the safe side we put out a second anchor and as the afternoon brightened we rowed ashore and set foot on Ibiza for a short walk. The quaint looking ramshackle huts may once have housed fishing boats but their contents now seems to be RIBs or jet skis! Our last night there was rather rolly and with fresh supplies running low we thought it would be sensible to move on to Ibiza Town.