This travel entry is more prose-heavy than my typical photography-centric format. The daily log felt like a natural fit for sailing, so relax and enjoy!
I was fortunate enough to be invited on a sailing trip around the island of Menorca in Spain this summer. I've been contemplating getting my ASA license, but have been hesitant due to the associated costs. So when I was given an opportunity to go sailing with some experienced friends, I jumped on the chance to test my sea legs and find out if the ASA certification would be worth the price. There was four of us on the crew in total, and our plan was to spend a week circumventing the island.
Saturday, August 15th 2026
Like any good adventure, the quiet evening of my arrival in Maó was disrupted by some unplanned, but controlled, chaos. Our blossoming crew intended to meet in the evening, get accustomed to our cabins and ready the ship before setting out with the rising sun the following morning. In a dramatic display of foreshadowing, my flight encountered storm-related delays while departing Denver, further disrupting my connection in Frankfurt. When the plane finally touched down safely on the German tarmac, I politely elbowed my way onto the first of the transport buses and then hastily made my way through customs and immigration.
A feverish sprint through the airport placed me on my departing plane right as the final passengers were boarding. With my daily allowance of bad karma filled, the rest of my flight was gratefully uneventful, and I arrived in Maó on time to meet up with Aidan. After collecting our things, we hailed a taxi and went straight to the Aloe Uno, docked at port number five of the Marina Menorca.
Unloading our belongings onto the ship, we chatted with Sami from the previous week's crew, and learned that everyone else had ventured into town. Sami was a marine biologist, and an interesting conversationalist, but me and Aidan were eager to also get our fill of Spanish tapas and wine. Accomplishing that mission was perhaps the easiest of the day, the harbor being dotted with a handful of restaurants willing to offer us a late lunch. Our bellies full, we headed back to the boat to regroup with the previously mentioned crew from the first week.
Although it made travel logistics considerably more annoying, I couldn't resist the desire to bring my guitar along with me. As always, I didn't regret it!
After some lively conversation and departing wisdom, Sami bid us farewell and caught her bus to Ciutadella. The remainder of the evening had some back-and-forth between the boat and town, as we welcomed Oliver from his own delayed flight and went out no less than twice for dinner. The typical late-night European dinner crowd was in full swing, but with some effort we managed to discover an open table to drain a round beers and taste a trio of tapas. Having exhausted our willpower for walking to and from the boat, we all retired to the Aloe Uno to count some sheep and prepare for the start of our adventure.
This first evening on the boat was marked by little breeze and a suppressing heat, which would come to be a familiar feeling over the course of the remaining week. The deck of the ship had proven to be the most comfortable place to sleep, where even the stifled marina breeze brought a welcome escape from the muggy interior of the berths. Nonetheless, a beautiful morning greeted us as we prepared to sail.
Sunday, August 16th 2026
Sunday held no allowance for sleeping in, with the previous crew rising early to make their flights onward. So with the early morning sun falling softly on the ship, myself and a couple crew members hailed a taxi into town. As the nominated head chef for the crew, it was my responsibility to procure our first haul of supplies from the local market. With our bags full of ice and an assortment of fresh Spanish groceries, we boarded the Aloe Uno and chartered course for our first destination, a quaint little bay wedged between Colum Island and Menorca.
As a proper ode to the spirit of sailing, we swam off the coast of Colum Island for some time before kick-starting the dinghy to embark on a short hike around the coastal ruins of an antiquated defense tower. The coastline was littered with an assortment of curious geological features, by what I assume to be volcanic activity. The island, it seemed, provided no shortage of interesting things to explore.
Worn out from the day, our evening in the shores of Colum Island was fairly pleasant, relative to how the next few evenings would play out. So with the evening sun setting over the bay, we strung our clothes along the lifelines to dry and settled in for our first true night aboard the Aloe Uno.
Despite what was a relatively mild night in retrospect, my poor body was still in shock from the sudden exposure to heat and humidity. As I lie in bed struggling to get comfortable, I recall feeling that this particular evening must be especially arduous, due to the wind barrier that Colum Island was providing. Oh, how I would be wishing for such a barrier from those same winds in the coming nights!
Monday, August 17th 2026
With a new day in front of us, the crew watched Colum disappear into the horizon as we sailed onwards to the seaside village of Fornells. Unbeknownst to us, in just a few more days this little harbor would become our only sturdy shelter from a pending storm. But on this particular day we found the winds to be calm, and the sun oppressively hot. Of course, we'd be damned if overzealous radiation from a distant star would stop our studies of the city!
And so with our minds set on adventure, we left our ship in the bay and made way to Fornells, both to restock on supplies and gulp down cold gelato.
While in town, we spotted an interesting tower bordering the edge of town, and hiked there only to discover it had closed just thirty minutes prior to our arrival. While this may have been slightly disappointing, the panoramic overlook of Fornells repaid our debt of sweat.
Another saving grace was the discovery of a street market on the way back into the village center, where we picked up fresh fruits, cured meats and sausage.
Having crossed Fornells off the list, we set a quick sail up the coast to Cala Pregonda. This was a serene cove lined with popular tourist beaches, alongside some dramatic pale brown rock formations. Most of the crew piled into the dinghy once again, whereas Oliver elected to try his luck on the stand-up paddle board for another excursion to explore the coastline. Upon landing, we were delighted to discover some scenic tidal pools and a natural rock formation that presented itself just like a hand jutting out from the sea. We quickly coined it "La Mano de Poseidon," or the Hand of Poseidon.
Having spent our daily energy scrambling up rocks and admiring nature's beauty, we retired for an evening on Aloe Uno, bracing for what would be a pretty hectic night. The blowing winds were fierce, and we were tossed quite a bit by the sea. In a fair deal, the high winds gracefully helped keep our berths relatively cool. Unfortunately, losing the discomfort of nighttime heat was offset by the wind-tossed boat thrashing about in the waves. Pick your poison, I suppose, with sleep under either circumstance difficult. At one point I woke to the ship rocking back and forth violently enough that I was tossed back in my berth!
Thankfully the worst of the wind storm blew through quickly, and I rose in the morning with no obvious bruises. The ship, however, had drifted quite a bit closer to the rocks, which caused me some concern. Thankfully our anchor held firm, and there's no shipwreck stories to share (or shipwreck bills to pay).
Tuesday, August 18th 2026
Our next day saw high winds driving our sails to Ciutadella. This leg of the voyage can only be described as torturous. The deep ocean swells made our boat feel like a child's toy being rocked about in the tub, and the strong winds only added to the choppy sailing. With regret, I'm no longer able to boast that I've never felt seasick, although thankfully my symptoms were relatively mild. Nonetheless, I spent a good portion of the afternoon battling a queasy stomach and fatigue. The dangerous cocktail of high heat, turbulent sailing, and lack of appetite led to a remarkably rough day at sea. It felt like a catch-22 in that my body needed energy, but also couldn't stomach the idea of eating. After an hour of these conditions it was to everyone's surprise, including my own, that I eventually made way for the cabin to lie down. Despite the oppressive heat and our ship being tossed around like an origami boat, I managed to sleep for almost an hour!
With some more distance to go, the conditions calmed as we rounded the western point of the island. It was here that we stopped at Pont d'en Gil to admire the natural rock arch formation jutting upwards from the turquoise-tinted water.
With an afternoon swim in mind, we ran into difficulty finding a place to anchor. Eventually we found what looked to be a sandy bottom in the cove, but looks can be deceiving, even in the crystal-clear waters! After a short swim, we returned to the boat to find our anchor solidly wedged between a couple of rocks that were hidden in the depths. Captain Lui is a seasoned free diver, and tried a few times in vain to free it. The rocks refused to budge, and the anchor finally catastrophically failed, shearing at the joinery and ripping clean off. The remainder of our day was largely dealing with that problem and the repercussions it presented.
While we did have a spare anchor on board, we lacked the proper tools required to replace it. With that in mind, me and Oliver piled into the dinghy and made a long and winding ride to Ciutadella to pick up tools from the local hardware store. I had a nice interaction with the lady running the hardware store, and left surprised that it felt mildly conversational. She shared a story with me about some French customers who got on her nerves, refusing to make an effort to translate to Spanish and instead forcing her to use an app to translate from Spanish into French for them. As we paid and went on our way, she complimented me on my Spanish, which had my pride swollen for the remainder of the day.
With tools in tow, we headed back to the port to make the long dinghy voyage back from the hardware store. Of course, we didn't leave the city before stopping at the market for some coveted Aquarius, which had quickly become the ship's mainstay beverage. After getting the anchor replaced with a subpar backup, you would think our anchorage woes would be done. Alas, fate had different plans! The replacement was notably worse than the primary anchor, and we suffered through some challenging anchorage in the popular yet minuscule bay of Ciutadella, wedging ourselves between numerous other ships and rocks intruding from the depths into the bay. After a lot of rigmarole attempting to anchor in these tight quarters, we eventually got situated with the captain having to dive down to manually pile loose rocks on top of the anchor underwater.
We settled our evening adventures with enough time to head into Ciutadella for a fantastic dinner of wood fired pizza and gelato. With our stomachs full, me and Captain Lui decided to split off from the group to head back to the boat. The captain, so he could monitor our precarious anchorage. Myself, because I was insanely exhausted. I promptly went straight to my berth, and slipped into unconsciousness. The heat that evening was nearly unbearable, and I spent most of the night waking every few hours completely drenched in sweat. I'd wander into the cabin's kitchen, wipe myself down with paper towels and return to bed, only to wake a few hours later drenched in sweat again. Despite these struggles, I spent nearly twelve hours total in bed, and woke up the next day feeling fairly refreshed.
Wednesday, August 19th 2026
As our resilient crew rallied over breakfast on Wednesday morning, we made the tough decision to abandon our circumnavigation and double back along the same northern coastline. The combination of a subpar anchor and dismal weather forecast was simply not conducive to risking our hides along the southern coast. So having firmly tossed our original plans out the window, we needed to depart a bit early from town. Aidan had ventured out for breakfast, and we kindly requested that he return early from his exploration of the city. But the winds kept pushing us closer to the rocks, and we ultimately had to abandon our anchorage and wait for his return out at sea. I can only imagine his confusion when he returned to the bay and found our ship gone! Thankfully it was short lived, as we returned promptly to pick him up. With our fearless crew fully assembled, we set sail back to sea.
Poseidon took mercy on our voyage this time around, with a pleasant combination of high winds and calm waters. We made it back to Fornells in record time, and spent the afternoon swimming in the bay. But what started as a casual swim gradually evolved into fierce diving competitions from the paddleboard. The self-administered challenge was seeing who could leap from the deck to the floating paddleboard, sprint across its full length, and then gracefully dive into the ocean's depths. When one considers that the boat, paddleboard and diver were all being tossed about by the waves, it was just as much fun attempting the sport as it was watching our crewmates make dramatic and determined leaps from the boat, only to immediately begin wildly flailing their arms in a panicked attempt to maintain balance. This nearly always resulted in belly flopping into the blue water with a comical splash, and a nose full of briney ocean water.
After our fun winded down, we took our heavy appetites into town for another solid meal at a nice restaurant, followed by some late afternoon gelato. It was here that I contemplated the past few nights, and decided to book a hotel for the Friday evening we would spend in port. Sleeping aboard a ship proved to be rougher than I had expected. And the notion of another hot evening in port without a breeze was impossible to imagine when I knew that a luxury, air conditioned hotel was just mere steps away. Ironically, that same evening was when nighttime conditions began improving dramatically, with calm waters and high winds making for quite the tranquil evening on our vessel. I played gentle guitar tunes while watching the twinkling lights of the city, and admiring soft reflections of other boats floating in the harbor. We chatted about books, and traded theories on what the high pitched noises we heard from the water around must be. Our prevailing theory was that it might be the clinking of mooring chains, with only the highest frequencies able to escape the sea and make it to our ears. When at last we turned in for the evening, a few of the crew thought to escape the heat and sleep above deck. The overnight wind storm proved too much for that plan last long. As for myself, for the first time on the trip, the high winds brought a cool night air and I managed to get a solid eight hours of sleep after what felt like a lifetime of the opposite.
Thursday, August 20th 2026
As day broke on Thursday, the heavens greeted us with the first hints of the pending storm which we had rerouted to avoid. The blowing winds were still fierce, and the pale blue sky was scattered by clouds for the first time in our trip. While this would typically be a cause for gloom, my immediate reaction was gratitude for respite from the previously blazing heat of the summer sun. The crew spent the morning lounging on the deck of our ship, enjoying lively conversation and dining on a late brunch of hashed potatoes, pimiento peppers, local cheeses and jamón.
After some discussion, we elected to stay moored in the harbor for the evening, where we had the best shelter from the pending weather. While this might result in a mad rush for Maó on Friday, we decided it was better to have a hasty voyage than to risk a dangerous evening unprotected from the raging storms. And perhaps more importantly, we had already secured a buoy in this harbor, which meant we would be rock-solid during the storm. Any other options along the coastline required anchoring, and we'd be forced to use our subpar replacement. The possibility of dragging anchor and finding ourselves flung to the rocky shoreline was too high a risk to tolerate. So having decided our fate for the evening, we made the most of our time in the harbor and struck out for a hike to the top of a nearby hill, where we had spotted some interesting ruins.
Mother nature refused to relent, and the opposing winds on the dinghy ride back to the boat were quite the battle. Nonetheless, we returned to the ship with plenty of time to spare before the brunt of the storm hit. The remainder of the afternoon was spent relaxing, reading books, playing card games and struggling in vain against the midday heat. As evening approached, we battled the tossing waves in our tiny dinghy once again for a final supply run into town.
With our fridge stocked and morale high, we battened down the hatches and prepared for the storm. It hit around midnight, which started as rather beautiful flashes of lightning on the distant horizon. We sat on the deck watching it roll towards us, admiring the impressive and beautiful force of nature. But with winds surpassing hurricane speeds, it wasn't long before we were forced below deck to brace for impact. As the storm took its grip on the bay, I curled up in bed with a book and a wet towel draped across my forehead, which had become my nightly habit to avoid the sweltering heat of the berths.
Friday, August 21st 2026
The late night storm brought in some blissfully cool winds, and the crew had our first night of truly restful sleep. Friday we were up early and ready to tackle a relatively long voyage back to the port town of Maó. We made a brief detour to replenish our supply of diesel, then headed for a small cove around the peninsula to eat brunch and go for a late morning swim. Captain Lui gave some impromptu free diving lessons, and Oliver managed to work his way up from an initial dive of just three meters to touching the bottom at eight meters! We swam around the coast for a while after, diving from the side of the boat and generally enjoying the superb weather.
I had some fun diving off the side of the sailboat, and Lui was kind enough to use his freediving skills to get some cool footage of me making the plunge.
By early afternoon, we reclaimed our anchor from the depths, and set out for some casual sailing back home. The weather was really perfect for relaxing, with moderate temperatures, calm wind and a calm sea. Unfortunately the wind wasn't quite strong enough for much sailing, so the previous supply of diesel showed its use. We stopped briefly in a beautiful little cove for some turkey pesto sandwiches and another quick dip. Some of the crew elected to go hiking up to a nearby tower, but I'd had my fill of excursions and elected to instead hang on the boat, playing guitar and swimming.
Once everyone had a chance to bid adieu to the Balearic Sea, we made our final journey back into the Menorca Marina. As mentioned before, I had elected to book a hotel for Friday night, rather than spend it aboard the Aloe Uno in port. It was nice to have that luxury after so many nights in the sweltering heat. This was truly an adventure of a lifetime, and I'm grateful to have had the opportunity!
