Around 4 the next day we left Ibiza to sail to a nearby (about 4 hours away) island. We anchored and stayed for a couple days. The island is inhabited, but has a long beautiful quiet beach along one coast. In the middle of the small island there are sulfuric clay pits, so R and I swam to the island and found the pits. We walked into them which really freaked me out since you sink about mid-shin in the muck. I kept imagining getting stuck. As we rubbed the mud all over ourselves I asked R if these are the right pits (as he had only been there once before). He said he thought so and then we got into hysterical laughing fits talking about perhaps, this is a cesspool or something and we are really rubbing shit allover ourselves. Finally we saw another lady a few meters away from us doing the same thing. We decided well, we weren’t going to be the only ones smelling like shit! Actually the sulfur smell was really bad! We then got out of the pit and walked back to the beach so we could sit in the sun and let it dry. By that time, there were a little more people on the island (about 10) and when we came walking out of the green area onto the beach, there was a group of people just staring at us; obviously unaware of the clay pits on the island. I turned to R and said “What’s the big deal, haven’t they ever seen Americans before”.
B and R preparing dinner inside the boat
about 2 AM, tired but not ready to go to bed yet!