On-board Diary: September 16, 2008

Author: Ana de la Torriente
Date: September 16, 2008



After leaving Menorca due to bad weather on the northern coast of the island, we now find ourselves on the eastern coast of Mallorca. We’ve taken advantage to let the storm go by, seeking shelter on the coast of Santany. Then, when the storm was dying down (“julepe frescachón”… Felipe Mellizo “Los Tres anillos”), we anchored in the bay of Pollensa. That funny and intelligent journalist reminded us of the sailors who wore three rings on their ears, which meant they had sailed through the three most extreme capes on earth, and were thus granted the right to: Urinate against the wind and Not reveal themselves before any sovereign on the planet.

It reminds me of those documentaries about the Magallanes expedition through exotic lands in which some of the Philippino crew members’ names are Joaquín, José, Camilo, etc…. They study Magallanes (Maguellan, they call him) as if he were an invader (which is exactly what he was) and remember Rizal as a liberating hero who, they always mention, “studied in Madrid...”. I point out that he was a smart guy for wanting to know the enemy inside-out.

The truth is we’ve been trying to leave for a couple of days, doing bathymetric work, diving and “anchor up”/“anchor down”. After the first bathymetric measurements, Riki, Ana and Rebecca have found a promising slope. They are anxious and nervously kick the ROV’s container, like purebreds ready for the race. I give them some sugar and they calm down.

Some of us who were here last year with the Ranger recall those days. Oceana’s Board of Directors met in this bay and it was the first time they were able to touch the catamaran that filled so many pages of oceanographic studies and campaigns year after year. I think they liked it.

Mauro and Fleta have disembarked from the MarvivaMed; and Joan, Tomeu and Manuel have also arrived. The ROV has its public, but more importantly, its technicians.

We’re still waiting for the weather to improve. In the Mediterranean, you can’t make plans more than two days in advance. The storm comes and goes as if the Mare Nostrum thought he was all-powerful, while we’re left to count the waves, and they say no two are alike.

A little gift of nostalgia:

"… Oh men, I’ve seen things you would not believe. Attacking burning ships beyond Orion, I’ve seen C-Rays shining in the darkness close to the Tannhäuser Door. All those moments will be lost in time like tears in the rain. It’s time to… sleep?...".