Having spent a few days in San Antonio bay, again, we felt in need of somewhere a little more peaceful and headed a couple of miles along the coast to Cala Bassa, a wide cala very popular with other yachts and tourist boats.
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| Jade at anchor in the evening light |
We found ourselves a spot away from the crowded beach and nearer to the rocks and, after panicking a little about just how close those rocks were, settled down to enjoy the scenery and be rocked about mercilessly by the stream of power boats zooming past the cala.
We debated leaving; the movement was decidedly unpleasant and we could be much more comfortably anchored back in the bay we’d just left. However, we knew the traffic would die down in the evening and concluded that it was probably worth staying put for at least one night. Besides, this gave us the opportunity to explore the caves that surround the cala once the tripper boats were safely out of the way.
As the sun was setting, we took the dinghy and glided over the now glassy water towards the shore, particularly appreciative of our silent electric outboard motor. The cave formations are bizarre; the first we explored opened up to daylight again after we passed under the wall of rock and hundreds of birds emerged from holes in the cave wall, startled by our voices.
We went deeper into the cave, and as the world darkened my sense abandoned me. We passed a dead snake or eel in the water and the roof lowered and I abruptly decided I didn’t want to go any further.
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| Looking out from the flesh eating spider cave entrance |
‘Can we go now?’
Peter turned to me in surprise. ‘Why?’
‘I don’t like it. It’s too dark. I don’t like it.’
He gave me an incredulous look. ‘OK. This is the flesh eating spider cave, after all.’
Naturally, he found my sudden attack of wussiness hilarious. We moved on to the next cave along the shore, which was of course shallower and narrower. We couldn’t get as far in anyway, but it was still displeasingly dark in there.
As we started to reverse out, I gave us a gentle push off the rock - our dinghy isn’t the most accurate in reverse - and noticed that the entire surface appeared to be moving. Ants were swarming all over it, and as I watched something large that I had assumed was a shell or barnacle moved.
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| The entrance to the flesh eating crab cave |
I drew my hand back very quickly. ‘There are things on the wall!’
‘Well yes - this is the flesh eating crab cave.’
A small wave slapped against the rock and I jumped. This was all thoroughly embarrassing. Peter ran a hand along my shoulder in his best impression of a flesh eating crab, and I jumped again.
Eventually, though, he took pity on me rather than continuing to mock me and we started to make our way back to the boat as the last of the sun caught the clouds and turned them pink and gold. Meanwhile, I celebrated our escape from the death caves.
