23rd April, Sant Antoni de Portmany
The humans have upped the ante in their efforts to madden me. After weeks of being surrounded by water, I am once again within leaping distance of land, and yet prevented even from taking a short stroll around the marina; I have tried every possible means of exit, but every one is closed to me. I am beginning to suspect they are in fact trying to keep me on board. Previously, I had concluded that they were merely incompetent rather than malicious.
My suspicions are confirmed when they forcibly strap me into a harness and take me outside themselves. I try to remain impassive, but cannot help but feel a rush of joy at the wood beneath my paws and something other than salt in my nose. Ultimately, I decide the humiliation of a harness is worth a fleeting taste of freedom.
Fleeting being the operative word. I'm trapped inside again within the hour, and despite my guerilla warfare tactics am kept there for hours. But no matter, the humans, who still believe me to speak only Spanish, intend to stay for several more days. An opportunity to explore is bound to present itself at some point.
30th April, Cala Yondal
Disappointment all round. Only one opportunity for escape arose, and the leap to shore was such a terrifyingly long one I didn't think I would manage it - and was so surprised to find I had done I was still getting my bearings when Male Human slipped a hand under my belly and deposited me back on the boat in an unbearably undignified fashion.
On the other hand, I'm not wholly convinced I could have made it back to the boat again, so perhaps it was for the best.
At any rate, I won't get another opportunity now; water surrounds me again, and even the entertainment to be gained from nearby fish cannot compensate for my despair. After hours of engine noise, which made me sick to my stomach, Female Human came to see me, offered her hand in comfort and, to my shame, I accepted it. At that point any reassurance, even from my captors, was worth having. At last, we arrived, and I was at least permitted to stroll about the deck and roof, which afforded me a reasonable view of our location. Trees, beautiful, beautiful trees, perfect for climbing, ring the shore and fill my heart with longing. I could almost feel the bark under my claws just staring at them. Irritatingly, however, other boats are nearby, with other humans who tend to emit high pitched squeals when they see me, so I choose not to stay out for long.
Another day, another interminable period of engine noise. I cannot decide whether to be grateful that I am becoming accustomed to the routine; it is beginning to seem almost normal. The rumbling begins; I confine myself indoors, dozing fitfully through the vibrations; every so often one or other of the humans appears to fuss over me (something about the stress of the situation makes this universally welcome) and eventually the noise vanishes and I can poke my nose outside to inspect the new surroundings.
Interesting prospect afforded by the current locale. The land is too far away to be of interest, but I would swear I could see below the water to ground beneath it. That, however, is not the interesting part; I am far more intrigued by the vast numbers of fish to be seen. For my entertainment, the humans tore up half a loaf of bread into crumbs which they tossed into the sea, causing the fish to leap almost out of the water, so tantalisingly close I could practically taste them. Still, one thing I cannot complain of is being underfed (the humans are amusingly well trained), so there is no need for the fish to be anything beyond a pleasant diversion. Although a fish supper would make such a delightful change.
13th May, Sant Antoni de Portmanay
Back in port again, but my situation is, if anything, more frustrating than ever. My access to land would be much easier than on our last visit, but I am not allowed even into the cockpit without a harness on. I have tried making the jump complete with harness, but it is painfully uncomfortable and I was secretly quite glad to be retrieved by Male Human.
From what I have gleaned from my captors, I was lucky to avoid a day-long spate of engine noise while they made their way to another island entirely (why, I can't imagine), but the hours of engine we did have, combined with the vastly unpleasant movement of the boat, were not much better. Never have I been more glad to hear the engine go off; the day's journey made everything else I've had to endure seem positively enjoyable by comparison.
Anyway, I have been able to investigate another area of the marina, and one unfortunate altercation with a dog notwithstanding (I believe I may have injured Female Human, but she could expect nothing else in preventing me making my escape) have discovered it to be satisfactorily diverting. As ever, I need more time to explore it properly - and to be permitted to explore other boats as well, which Female Human is tediously determined against. The downside of the outside world currently is the preposterously strong wind which, while unable to knock me off my paws, ruffles my fur in an infuriating manner.
18th May, Port Roig
Female Human seems to think the above picture of our current location is superior to any taken of me. There's no accounting for taste, I suppose. I'm beginning to feel quite relaxed; always a danger sign, in my book. I must remain vigilant, for how else to improve my lot? Even I can admit that it has been a pleasant few days, however, with patches of sunlight to sleep in and distant birdsong to provide an exquisite mix of stimulation and impotence.
The only factor to mar this agreeable existence is the troubling habit the humans have spontaneously developed of throwing themselves bodily into the water. I can only hope they do not expect me to come to their aid if they drown. I have watched them in consternation, conscious that these two bumbling, fur-less creatures are the ones who can open the cupboard doors, but thus far they have successfully hauled themselves back on board and seem none the worse for wear.
This behaviour does serve as a reminder that I must not become complacent, however. A cat in my position cannot afford to forget that she finds herself a dependent, and that liberty is, and will ever be, the only means to security. But for now, I bide my time.
