The Balearic Islands sit on one of the clearest stretches of the Mediterranean — visibility past 30 metres in places. That clarity is why sailors keep coming back, and why an anchorage emptied of engine noise feels almost unreal.

Sa Dragonera, just off Port d’Andratx, is a protected island where the only residents are lizards and Eleonora’s falcons. No roads, no bars, no noise — you anchor, you swim off the transom, and you watch the sun drop behind bare rock. That is the whole itinerary.

Mallorcan sailors will tell you the real secret is the wind: the embat arrives almost like clockwork after lunch, gives you four hours of perfect sailing, then dies at sunset. Plan your hops around it and you look like a genius.

A catamaran this size does not heel, does not roll and does not rush. Your morning coffee stays in the cup, your guests stay in a good mood, and the skipper gets to look like the calmest man in the Mediterranean.

Formentera sits just a short hop south of Ibiza, and locals joke that it is what Ibiza was forty years ago — no high-rises, no clubs, just white sand and turquoise water. Anchor off Ses Illetes at sunset and you will understand why they keep it that way.