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Dinghy Stolen in San Antonio

Simon got on the airport bus in Ibiza Town and I caught the bus back to San Antonio and was happily walking along the quay listening to my iPod when I found that the dinghy wasn't where we'd left it. The end of season is often when things get stolen here and it's a favourite trick for some people to steal a dinghy or outboard and sail back home with it. I spoke to the marina security guards but they'd just started their shift and hadn't seen anything. They were helpful though and began looking around the marina in case someone had hidden it amongst the boats or was busy trying to stow it. I walked to the end of the breakwater, asked some fishermen if they'd seen anything and looked out to sea in case it had been set adrift. At this point I saw the the security guards shouting and flashing their torches to me; they'd found a boat with two dinghies next to it. I followed them through the marina, really hoping it was mine, but sadly it wasn't.

We walked over to check out the pontoons close to where we'd tied it and whilst we were doing that a car pulled up and a couple of guys from one of the boats got out. They'd seen two guys start my outboard engine, rev it up, and leave. They hadn't seen where they'd gone with it, however, but they gave me a description of what they looked like. One had shoulder length hair, the other had a mohican, and they guessed that they looked Spanish. They'd taken it at about midnight so I must have just missed it getting stolen. I thanked them and, feeling very pissed off, went off to search some of the corners of San Antonio Bay.

It was Friday night and the promenade around the town was full of drunk, offensive Brits, shouting and swearing, and threatening their girlfriends. I looked around the commercial dock in case it had been hidden there and walked as close as I could get to the boats anchored in the bay, but couldn't see anything. Just then a very small, white speedboat took off from the beach area past the bars, which seemed a strange place for a boat to come from, and disappeared into the crowd of anchored yachts. I walked along the beach, passed the bars with their touts desperately trying to get me in for a drink, and went to check out the beachfront where the speedboat had come from. There, run into the sand and sitting behind a dock was the dinghy!

As you can imagine I was delighted to see it. They'd ran the engine hard into the sand and it took a bit of work to get it afloat but nothing had been stolen from it. It was well tied up in the way that someone from a boat would tie a boat up and it looked like they were definitely planning to come back for it. I managed to get the engine started but it sounded awful. They'd run over a steel cable and the propeller was damaged but worse than that the engine sounded like a bag of bolts. I managed to nurse it back across the bay to Zamindar but it sounded as if it would give up at any moment.

It's been quite a week.


Bron so sorry to hear the news and glad your
Scottish perseverence paid off.... Bastards.
Very much hope the engine will run again.


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