After nearly four days of peace at sea, arriving in Poetto felt quite overwhelming. We really should have known better. Anchoring in an Italian bay over the weekend is rarely a good idea. Poetto is, after all, the main beach destination for the people of Cagliari. It is a popular getaway for the locals, so naturally, it was lively and crowded. On the very first day, we had to step in when a few small boats came nearby. Some were anchored too close, while others simply didn’t have a secure hold. Instead of taking action, the owners just stared at us blankly until they, sometimes literally, drifted into our boat. It was a strange experience. And that’s not even mentioning the windsurfers who made no effort to steer clear of us. Poetto definitely wasn’t the highlight of our trip. What made the stay enjoyable, however, was meeting up with Thomas from New Hope. We had spent almost six weeks anchored in the same bay in Mallorca, so it was really nice to run into him again here in Sardinia. That same evening we invited him over to share some tuna. The catch, as mentioned in a previous post, was far too much for the two of us to finish. And sharing a meal is always more enjoyable with good company. One of my favorite pizzerias, Gusteau, is also located here, so of course we went out for a pizza night together. Still, I knew pretty quickly that I didn’t want to stay much longer. The bay was just too busy for my taste. From a practical standpoint, it made sense to be there. We were waiting for a package to be delivered, and the Superpan, a large Italian supermarket, was nearby which made it easy to stock up on delicious Italian products. Poetto itself has a distinct retro vibe. I noticed it the last time we were here, but this time it stood out even more. It feels like time has stood still. The place has a certain charm, though it also appears a bit run-down. It is not really ideal for walking, although the hike to the tower on the hill, past the military area, turned out to be fairly pleasant. Unfortunately, the intense heat and steep slopes made me question my decision more than once along the way. After a few days, we had enough. We were both in need of some peace and quiet. On top of that, the forecast predicted unfavorable swells in the bay. So we decided, along with Thomas, to lift anchor and head for a quieter spot. That is one of the great things about traveling by boat. If you no longer enjoy a place, you can simply move on.

A sunset trip toward Maracalagonis, not the easiest name to pronounce. The nearby bay at Torre delle Stelle is a bit easier to say. There are no large hotel chains here, just villas scattered across the hillside and a quiet sandy beach with two small beach bars. It’s a big contrast to the busy atmosphere of Poetto. The calm here is immediately noticeable. We’re not alone: Thomas from New Hope is with us. We enjoy Piña Coladas on his foredeck, light the barbecue and set up an outdoor movie night with a projector, a big screen and plenty of popcorn. The movie? Waterworld, fitting for life on a boat. Since it’s a film from the ’90s, we assumed it would last about 90 minutes. But nearly three hours later, we’re still watching and wondering how long it actually goes on. The credits finally roll after 1 a.m. Turns out we had started the director’s cut… Probably a good idea to check the runtime next time. As for the film itself: lots of action, not much of a story. I expected a bit more. But the whole experience made up for it. A cozy night under the stars like that is definitely something we’d do again. Being anchored in a place like this feels almost magical. At night, the scent of the forest fills the air. The villas on the hillside glow softly and the star-filled sky makes the whole bay sparkle. Until the swell comes in, that is. At one point, the boat was rocking in every direction. Not the most comfortable, but still bearable. On our last evening in the bay, we head to shore with Thomas and his cat, Captain. We take the dinghy to the beach, dig our toes into the cool sand, and grab some ice cream from the beach bar: a classic Cornetto and a Magnum with almonds. A simple but perfect way to end our stay. The next morning, around 8 a.m., we lift anchor and head off to the next bay.

It’s still pretty early when we lift up the anchor. The sky is just starting to lighten, but the sun isn’t up yet. First, we hoist the dinghy onto the deck, then quietly slip out of Port de Pollença bay. Everything is quiet on the other boats. Everyone is probably still asleep. The sea is calm, almost glassy at times. Not long after, the sun rises behind the mountains, casting a warm orange glow over our faces, the boat and the water around us.
We glance back at Mallorca one last time. What a beautiful island. It feels a little strange to be leaving it behind. After a few hours, Menorca shows up on the horizon. It is much flatter compared to the mountainous Mallorca. We are making good progress with both the mainsail and jib up.
If you were tracking us on AIS through Vesselfinder or MarineTraffic, it probably looked like we were heading for Menorca for a quick stop. But just before sunset, we tack and set a straight course for Sardinia. At nine in the evening, our watch schedule kicks in. We take turns with three hours on and three hours off. I start the first watch while the sea is still calm. Greg takes over around midnight.
Thanks to the autopilot, we do not have to steer, but we stay alert, regularly checking for other boats or floating debris. We sail a bit south of our planned route. Luckily, the wind shifts a few hours later, and we can get back on track. Just before three in the morning, my alarm goes off. It is time for the watch swap. The sea has gotten a bit rougher. The waves make it feel like we are riding a rocking horse.
I look up at the incredible starry sky. There are tons of stars, the Milky Way is clearly visible and even a train of Starlink satellites passes by. The sea is magical too. Tiny flashes of bioluminescent plankton light up with every wave. It reminds me of a scene from Life of Pi. It feels almost dreamlike. Around six in the morning, as dawn breaks, I crawl into bed. The constant rocking makes it hard to fall asleep. When I wake up around nine, I am anything but rested. I have a stiff neck, sore back and a slight headache. The sea stays rough all morning. Between the rocking, I sneak in short naps, read my book (Host by Peter James) and stare out at the water, hoping a dolphin will pop up any second. I am totally hooked on the book. The story is about artificial intelligence and cryonics. Time flies as I get caught up in the twists and turns. It has been ages since a story pulled me in like this. In a few days, I finish the whole six hundred page book. Day two is pretty chill. By afternoon, the waves finally calm down enough so we can open the fridge without everything flying out. It is hot, a bit too hot, and finding relief is tough. Luckily, we have our watermaker, so we can enjoy a refreshing shower in the evening. Still no dolphins or other sea life. At sunset, I play some music to try and lure them out, but no luck.
During my watch, I start watching the series The Boys to pass the time. Day three and the trip is getting a bit monotonous. We are still sailing most of the time, but honestly, we were hoping to see dolphins by now. Nope. Just endless blue water all around. No other boats in sight either. We decide to tweak our route. Rather than heading to Carloforte, we aim for Poetto bay. If we had stuck to the original plan, we would arrive in the middle of the night, which is not ideal given the many nearly invisible fishing buoys along the Sardinian coast. Also, it is time to swap our Spanish flag for the Italian one. After another sticky hot day, I hop in the shower. Still half wet and wrapped in just a towel, I go out to water the plants. Right then, I hear the bait clicker rattling. Something is on the line.
Wearing just the towel, I try to reel it in. It is not easy and soon I realize it is a big one. It is a tuna. After about half an hour of wrestling, Greg takes over while I throw on some clothes. Finn pokes his head out, curious. He knows exactly what fishing means by now.
When the fish finally surfaces, I grab the net and haul it onboard with a big effort. My heart is racing with adrenaline. What a catch. A ten-kilo, eighty-centimeter tuna. The biggest we have ever caught. One thing is for sure. We have plenty to eat for the next few days. Greg handles the filleting. It is something I definitely cannot stomach. Just the smell of fish and blood makes me gag. Greg is surprised. He cannot believe how strong my nose is. Yes, filleting fish is definitely not my thing. Day four and we are almost at our destination. I start tidying up on deck while Greg hoists the parasailor. When we arrive, we dodge a big container ship, lower the parasailor, and get greeted by Thomas from New Hope, who is anchored in the bay too. He points us to a great spot to drop anchor. After 317 miles and 82 hours at sea, it feels amazing to finally be here.
After a refreshing nap, we invite Thomas aboard for sushi, ceviche and grilled fish. We hang out for hours, enjoying the food and each other’s company.
Feeling happy and content, we finally crawl into bed, ready for new adventures in Sardinia.

By now, we know the bay at Port de Pollença really well and we drop the anchor of our El Burro at our usual spot near the military area, the lighthouse and La Fortaleza. Just after we arrive, the sun sets behind the impressive mountains. The next day, we meet up with the crew of Kalypso, Santi and Nora. They have two guests visiting, so they join us for some drinks on our boat. An Argentinian, two Belgians, a Frenchman and two Germans, it almost sounds like the start of a joke. I’m still amazed by how many fellow sailors we’ve already met, from all over the world, all finding their way to the Mediterranean. The day after, we invite them over for the famous El Burro barbecue. I think barbecuing on our boat has become kind of a thing by now. The six of us, plus our two cats, are hanging out on the foredeck. It’s a bit tight since the boat isn’t that big, but we recently discovered it’s actually a nice spot to sit when we have more people. It’s definitely roomier than the cockpit. We grill chicken and pineapple on the barbecue, pass around some salads and everyone happily digs into the snacks. We spend hours chatting under a stunning starry sky. For dessert, we have grilled peaches with cinnamon and marshmallows. Sounds like a weird combo, but it totally works. Since we’re still in Mallorca, we also meet up with the Alcudia crew: Isa, Benji, Lluis and Stevie. We grab burgers at our favorite place, Tirano Street Food, and this time we say a proper goodbye. Though I’m pretty sure we’ll see Isa and Benji again in Greece. The next few days are all about getting ready. We spot a good weather window to leave on Wednesday, the 02nd of July. We reinforce the solar panel, check the rigging, replace the flag lines, tidy up the storage locker, check the engine, and more. It’s a long to-do list, but getting everything in order gives us peace of mind. And then, just as the sun rises, we lift the anchor and watch Mallorca disappear behind the horizon after eight months. We never expected to stay this long, but the island really surprised us with its beauty and wild nature. And of course, we’ve made some amazing memories here with wonderful people. Hasta luego, Mallorca!

Tranquility. Peace. We really needed a break. No social plans, no distractions. Just the two of us and our cats. Alcudia Bay didn’t feel right anymore. It had gotten way too crowded and noisy. Hotels were holding aquagym sessions on the beach for big groups of tourists. Banana boats and jet skis kept racing past. In the evenings, cover bands blasted music across the water. During the day, it was almost impossible to just sit on the boat and relax without all the background noise. It became too much. So finding the bay at La Canova was such a relief. Only one other sailboat nearby. No loud music, no commotion. Just a beautiful beach, a lush green forest behind it and mountain views all around. I took out my sketchbook and started drawing. One mountain especially stood out with its unique shape. I’ve always loved drawing and I must admit I'm pretty good at it, but I had never tried travel sketching before. Now I wonder why I waited so long. It’s really calming to study your surroundings and slowly put all the details on paper. That evening we got comfortable on the deck with the cats, some snacks, pillows, blankets and a good book. After sunset the sky turned into a beautiful blanket of stars. Some were clearly visible, others were faint, but you could still sense them there. Sleeping out on the deck felt magical. The temperature was perfect. The cats curled up beside me. Greg stayed out there too, until around three in the morning when his back started hurting and he moved to the bed inside. I honestly slept better than I had in a long time. I woke up with the first light and stayed awake as the sun came up and warmed everything around us. The next day was just as peaceful. We took a walk through the nearby nature reserve and then cooled off with a swim. At first we thought about sailing to Menorca the following day, but the weather forecast looked rough and we decided comfort was more important than fighting waves. So around five in the afternoon we pulled up the anchor and set off on a calm sunset sail toward Port de Pollença.

I've lost count of how many times we've sailed in and out of this bay. But this will be the last time for a while. We've decided to sail back to Greece and spend the winter there. Before we can leave, though, we still have a few things to take care of in Alcudia. We've ordered a 470-watt solar panel that we need to pick up and install. The plan is to mount it on the bimini, but first we need to build a solid structure for it. And of course, we’re saying goodbye to the people we've known here for so long. Or rather, we’re just saying “hasta luego.” We’re going back to our favourite Indian restaurant one last time, where the table was once again filled with colourful dishes. After that, we had a chocolate tasting: Belgium versus Switzerland. Switzerland came out on top, although I have to admit the flavours were so different that it was nearly impossible to compare. And honestly, with five Swiss people and just one Belgian, it wasn’t a fair fight anyway. Still, it was a GREAT evening! The weather isn't cooperating at all. Not because it’s rainy or cold, quite the opposite. It’s so hot during the day that we barely have the energy to do anything. Cooling down is tough, even for the cats. On the final day before we lift anchor, we’ll take Nelly to the vet for her rabies shot. After that, we’ll run some errands, do a few loads of laundry and (mostly) finish installing the solar panel.

At sunrise, we are already up on deck, ready to lift the anchor and sail from Alcudia to Pollença. It seemed like a great idea at the time, although after a short night thanks to a cozy barbecue in our cockpit, it feels a bit less appealing. There is a light breeze, so we hoist the sails and sail on a beam reach towards Alcanada. But as soon as we reach the shelter of Coll Baix, the wind completely disappears. We start the engine and lower the sails. As we enter the bay of Pollença, it immediately feels familiar. Our friends are already there: On Y Va, Muhuhu and New Hope. Donna is with us too, they joined the early morning sail. Greg is leaving for Belgium in two days to surprise his sister on her wedding day. In the meantime, he gives me a short but important briefing on how to manage the power usage, which valves to close in case of emergency, how to let out more anchor chain, and most importantly how to start the outboard motor of our dinghy. On June 12, the moment arrives. I start the dinghy’s outboard and drop Greg off ashore. From that point on, I am alone on the boat. Well, almost alone, since our cats are with me and there are still friends anchored in the bay who I know I can count on. The days that follow are actually really pleasant. Life on board feels calm and familiar and I start to truly enjoy the solitude. In the evenings, I often join the neighbours for dinner. We have cozy pasta and pizza nights, Caetlin invites me for her delicious quiche, and afterward we play card games. I feel truly grateful for these warm moments and the support around me. The outboard motor remains a challenge. It fails to start more often than not, which is frustrating. Luckily, Ben is always patient and keeps explaining what I need to do and what to look out for. One evening, I notice a thunderstorm building over the mountains. To be safe, I let out more anchor chain and keep a close eye on the weather. Thankfully, the storm stays away. Aside from a bit of rain and some gusty wind around four in the morning, everything stays calm. My anchor alarm became my closest companion that week. Before I know it, the week has passed and I receive a message from Greg saying he has landed. Soon after, I pick him up at the dinghy dock. George and Sinead from Muhuhu had already left earlier that day and we feel that our goodbyes to the others are coming closer as well. That evening, we celebrate Oriane’s birthday from Bee Sailing. Slowly everyone begins making plans to sail to Menorca. We first need to return to Alcudia to install our new solar panel and to celebrate the splash day of Isa and Benji from Malou. But before all that, we host one last evening on our boat. We cook Asian food and enjoy the atmosphere, the laughter and the never-ending conversations. Saying goodbye is hard. We have spent six weeks almost constantly with Donna and New Hope and at least four weeks with the others. Of course, we know we will see each other again, probably somewhere in Greece, but the farewell still feels strange and a little empty. We lift the anchor and head back to Alcudia to take care of a few final things. Once that is done, we plan to follow the others and continue our journey east.

Travel isn’t so much about the place you’re going, but about the people you meet along the way. And here in Port de Pollença, we’ve felt that more than ever. From the very first moment, it was one big celebration. Barbecues on Thomas’s boat, with the smell of freshly grilled food floating through the air and laughter that just kept going. During watersports, we ran around with wet hair, completely happy. It wasn’t really about what we were doing, but that we were doing it together. The past few weeks have been full of those small, perfect moments. Lying on the catamaran’s trampoline with a hot chocolate in our hands, while the stars sparkled above us and the stories only got better. Wandering through the market, eating burgers together, sharing pizzas on the beach with sand between our toes and the sun warming our skin. And playing games where laughing mattered far more than winning. And the flotilla? That was really just one big floating party. A warm family feeling where new faces immediately felt like old friends, and old friends felt like they had never been away. Port de Pollença is beautiful, but it’s mostly the people and the moments we shared that made this trip so special. Memories to cherish forever, made on the water, in the sun, and under the stars.

We hoist the mainsail and sail with a broad reach toward Cap Formentor. Because of the mountains, the wind is very unpredictable with lots of gusts, but there are no waves, so it’s still manageable. We decide to sail a bit further offshore first to find more stable wind and avoid having to tack too often. After a long sail out, we tack to head toward our destination. We decide to sail straight to Alcudia instead of Coll Baix, which doesn’t look all that comfortable from a distance. The VHF radio is busy. Conversations overlap and we hear Spanish, English, French and Italian. Alcudia feels familiar. We drop our anchor and greet all the boats we know, both the ones already here and the flotilla boats – Donna, On Y Va, Muhuhu and New Hope. Shortly after, we see Bee Sailing entering the bay. We met Eliseo and Oriane last year in Ibiza, so it’s nice to run into them here again. On Saturday, the bay is crowded, and unfortunately, we notice it’s not the same Alcudia as a month ago. Jet skis, banana boats, glass-bottom boats, motorboats… and hundreds of tourists relaxing on the beach enjoying the warm weather. Way too busy and chaotic for us. We already miss the quiet winter and spring seasons. But Alcudia has its perks too. We meet Isabelle and Benjamin from Malou again and organize a cozy barbecue with them on our boat. Alcudia is also convenient: we do the laundry, go to the supermarket and visit the ferreteria. Then we lift the anchor and sail back to Pollença, which now feels just a bit more idyllic.

After a fun lunch with the whole group in Port de Pollença, we all decide to head out together the next day to Cala Figuera. The next morning, everyone pulls up anchor and we cruise out of the bay in a little flotilla. The wind that was supposed to show up never does, so the sails come down and we do the whole trip on engine. The swell is pretty big and long, but it’s not too bad. Our El Burro handles it like a champ. With a freshly cleaned hull and a shiny prop, we’re almost a knot faster, and to our surprise, we even end up overtaking a few of the others. We follow New Hope, riding an impressive following swell around Cap Formentor and eventually drop anchor in the insanely clear waters of Cala Figuera. One by one, the rest of the crew joins us: Electric Keith, On Y Va, Donna, Lena, Bohemia and Muhuhu. Not long after, someone throws out the idea of rafting up. At first, I’m not totally sure. The cala seems kinda small for that, but I go along with it. Turns out, it’s way easier than I expected. Thomas helps us tie on, which definitely makes it smoother. The boats are nice and steady, there’s no swell and the whole place is just stunning. We’re tucked in between towering cliffs. That evening, we all gather on New Hope for Indian curry night. The table’s packed with colourful vegan dishes. The food is delicious and the vibes are perfect. We wrap up the night in the cosiest way possible: hot chocolate under a blanket on the trampoline. Next morning, the bright blue water is calling, so I jump in, only to get a sharp little shock... jellyfish. Tiny needles sticking out of my arm. I swim on, but start to feel a bit panicky. The pain’s worse than I expected. I head back to the boat. Luckily, vinegar, hot water, an antihistamine and some cream sort it out. We take it easy the rest of the day: go for a walk, chill and in the evening we set up a beach BBQ. Should’ve known better, really... doesn’t take long before the Guardia Civil shows up. Oops. Campfires and barbecues are a big no-no. We pack up quick and head back to the boats. The next morning, it’s anchors up again as we head off to the next bay.