Forever in Palma

19 December 2001

I arrived in Palma late that December, where Mike was already living on Forever. I was laden with as much clothing as I could carry, my precious laptop, a colour printer and a brand new video camera. In those days we didn’t have a digital camera, regrettably, and most of the earlier photos I have included here (scant as they are) are stills taken off the digital camera. The quality from such a process is not good at the best of times, and made even worse by the fact that I was THE world's worst video camerawoman.

Mike had made a few friends prior to my arrival amongst the not inconsiderable English speaking live-aboard community in the marina and the next month passed in a pleasant daze making friends, getting used to the liveaboard life and getting to know our boat. We spent a boozy Christmas Eve on the yacht of another English couple with various fellow yachties and an assortment of landlubbers associated with the nautical world – boat surveyors, sail makers, riggers, brokers, charter company personnel, etc.

On Christmas day I successfully cooked a small chicken, roast potatoes and all the rest of it for a Christmas dinner. We swapped small gifts, but our best Christmas present was the arrival in the post from Devon the previous day of the large box containing all our bedding. Bliss, warm nights at last. On New Year’s Eve there was a fireworks display in Palma’s harbour – the best fireworks we have ever seen.

Mike was dead keen to head straight for Gibraltar and cross the Atlantic that December, but I put my foot down firmly and said I was not ready for that – not yet, and good thing I did, too. Our first attempts at sailing together were disastrous (in particular the in-mast roller furling main sail) and the less said about them the better. Suffice to say we finally, sort of, got the hang of it. Nonetheless, I remained very unsure of our competence to make an ocean crossing and persuaded Mike to wait another year. He agreed, reluctantly. Mike’s good friend from South Africa, Nick, came to visit for a week and we took him sailing along the coast to Santa Ponca for a night. He was politely complimentary, but I think our sailing skills left him a little green about the gills and he was relieved when we got to port.

The weather was mostly good – warm sunny days and cold nights. We found a restaurant, officially catering to the marina yard workers, that served a substantial and appetizing menu del dia, including wine, water and coffee for E6 a head. After such a lunch we would feel duty-bound to indulge in the delightful Spanish habit of siesta and duly retreat back to our bunks till early evening when life began again with enthusiasm. Now we understood why the liveaboard yachties weren’t early risers.

We loved Palma, an elegant, interesting, charming city. It is lively, vibrant and busy, a little dirty and smelly, and a very nice place to spend the winter, as there are few tourists and all the festivals occur then. On the night of the 5th of January the Three Kings arrived in Palma. They sailed into the harbour by yacht and arrived in the old town, all dressed up in their flowing robes. They then mounted camels and rode through the streets followed by all sort of fantastic floats and people in costumes playing music and throwing sweets to the children of the town. The streets were packed with folk, young and old. When the festivities finished and the Kings disappeared, the children went home and were given their Christmas presents on that night, not on Christmas Day.

Later there was the feast of San Sebastian, the patron saint of Palma. Every major Plaza was manned by musicians, all playing different types of music - jazz, pop, flamenco, reggae, and the rest. There were huge bonfires burning whilst thousands of Majorcans of all ages thronged the streets laughing and chattering, cooking sausages on the bonfires, drinking wine, flamenco dancing and singing along with the bands. It was an incredible evening.

We visited the beautiful old Moorish cathedral, the Almudaina Palace and the Arab Baths. One can ignore the rows of hotels and apartment blocks stretching along the main Esplanade and just concentrate on the fascinating old town which is situated right on the waterfront, a stone’s throw from the marina. You walk along these narrow cobbled streets lined by shabby walls interspersed with enormous metal doors, everything cracked and crumbling, dirty and overgrown with weeds and you think you must be in a poor part of the town. Then suddenly, there’s a door open, you peer in and see a whole different world; an enchanting courtyard, spacious and cool, with intricate mosaic tiles on the floor, a fountain and potted trees or shrubs, stone columns, elaborate arches and a sweeping staircase to the upper floors. It’s quite extraordinary. Outside, shabby and mean looking; inside, well tended and beautiful.

Here is our beloved Forever, our cosy little home for the next seven years:

Cockpit

Saloon

Fore Cabin

Aft Cabin - our cabin

Chart Table

Galley

The Head