June 2016

In which we cruise down the Italian coast and round Sicily.

Having got too far south, we had a slow passage across from Sardinia to the Pontine Islands but managed to sail most of the way.  We arrived at the anchorage to the north of Ponza at 1700 on the 1st, managing to find a good spot amongst 20 or so boats already there.  June 2^nd is a big holiday in Italy and the over the following days many more arrived so that there were about 50 by the time we left.  Ponza itself is a pretty town with a great deal of history back to when Roman emperors used to exile inconvenient relatives there. We dinghied ashore on Thursday for a look round, lunch and shopping.  Slight misunderstanding on opening hours left us waiting outside the butchers for an hour until 1700 but good, if expensive, provisions were got.  Halfway back, the outboard conked out, so rowed the rest of the way.  On arrival, it started first pull.  Possibly a bit of dirt in the fuel again although I am now religious about filtering it.

Pontines and Bay of Naples

There was very little wind on Friday morning but by midday it was picking up so we set off on the 25 miles to Ventotene and anchored just outside the old harbour, which was carved out of solid rock by the Romans to shelter their galleys. It was packed to bursting this holiday weekend, as was the new harbour to the north.  The inevitable open air disco was, this time, 80’s themed so we had the fun of remembering the artists’ names as we screwed the earplugs in tighter.  Dinghy ashore in the morning to see the harbour and a few provisions and then another midday start to cross to Ischia, at the north-west end of the Bay of Naples.  Here we anchored under a spectacular castle, built on an island just off the main town.  We were well sheltered from the swell but once the ferries and motor yachts woke up it was quite rolly.  This was Sunday morning on a holiday weekend.  If you live in Naples, it would be a shame not to have a boat and the locals obviously agree.  They don’t seem to think much of sailing so it is motor boats.  Thousands of them from small RIBs to 100 ft yachts, all fitted with maximum sized engines.  And they were all out with throttles fully forward.  With less than 10 knots of wind, we didn’t even think of hoisting sail, just proceeded towards Naples, trying to keep out of the way of the ferries and letting the rest go round us.  We made our way up to Baia, on the Western edge of the bay, parking in a not-so-scenic spot between a wrecked freighter and the Fiart (motor yacht) factory.  At least it was calm, until the hoards of boats returned to the marina from their day out.

Castello de Ischia

We waited for wind on Monday, picking up anchor at mid-day and sailing gently across the bay to see Naples and Vesuvius.  When we reckoned that we could just make Capri on a close reach, we headed south and had a fine sail down to, and round, that island, choosing to anchor under the cliffs on the eastern side.  The chart warns of inaccuracies and is right to do so.  The 10 metre line tied up with reality but the coast did not.  Instead of 200 metres space there was less than 100. We dropped the hook and took a line ashore to keep us stable.  A quiet night, the peace being broken at 0830 by the first tourist boat.  They were on a schedule, which included travelling at 20 knots until they got to a point of interest, one of which was 50 metres beyond us, slamming on the brakes, giving a PA commentary and zooming off again.  The same applied to all the others at 5 minute intervals so we had a hasty coffee and pushed off. 

Capri

We were getting short of water, so phoned the main marina:  would it be possible to come in and take some? Yes.  So we motored round, called on the radio and were allocated a berth.  The harbour entrance was the most manic we have ever seen.  As well as the round the island trip boats, there are those doing the Blue Grotto, ferries and private boats.  We made sure that we were fully ready, chose our moment and dashed in tying up, unusually, without assistance.  While Elsie went to get some provisions, I tried for water.  Taps controlled by pre-paid cards and not forthcoming.  Round to marina office.  No.  No water without an overnight stay.  But you can get it from the fuel station.  While waiting for Elsie’s return, I fiddled with lots of taps, found one with credit left on it and…. 

On the way out, there was a diver, inspecting moorings, with just a small RIB for company amongst the mellee.  Must have nerves of steel.  We motored back to the mainland, anchoring just to the east of Positano, on the Amalfi coast.  It is a spectacular village, clinging to the hillside.  We dinghied ashore and climbed through a warren of steep, narrow alleys and then back down a winding road to the shore.  Touristy, but very chic.  If we had been dressed for shore rather than the dinghy ride, we might have wandered into some of the attractive art galleries, but settled for a gelato instead.  The coast is characterised by many small, inaccessible, beaches which are served by water taxies: open boats with outboards, driven by young machos who stand in the stern and see how close they can get to anchored yachts. They continue, unlit, until well after dark.

Positano

The following day, we motored along this spectacular coast to Amalfi itself.  From the sea, at least, it did not compare to Positano.  We were now a little low on fuel so went in for 50, expensive, litres before heading south and had a pleasant sail down to Agropoli, where we were keen to visit the nearby ruins of Paestum.  We soon learned that ‘marina touristico’ does not mean that they cater for tourists.  Elsie was sent on a wild goose chase looking for the laundrette in town, which turned out to be a dry cleaners, only to discover the real laundrette 100 metres from the boat in the opposite direction.  While she did a wash, I searched for information on how to get to Paestum but could only discover that we could go by bus, train or taxi, with no reliable information on the first two, so the next morning we bit the bullet and took a taxi.

Paestum

Paestum was indeed spectacular with two almost complete Greek temples, and many ruins from the Roman era.  Unfortunately, before preservation of ancient monuments was considered important, a road had been driven through some of the latter but enough remained to be worthwhile.  There is also a good museum.  The tourist office provided a bus timetable and we discovered that if we hurried, we could catch the first of two busses from the train station, about half a mile away.  We hurried.  No first bus.  No second bus.  Train timetables on line and in the station gave conflicting ideas as to when we could expect to return that way.  A bus!  Climbed on board, only to discover that tickets must be purchased in advance and we were thrown off.  Bit another bullet and took taxi back to town.  On our way in, saw a Vodafone sign.  Elsie bought an Italian SIM back in Sardinia.  This worked for 3 days and then stopped without explanation.  After going through the same checks that we had, the shop owner revealed that he wasn’t the official Vodafone store; that was 100 metres up the road.  Up to there: closed for the next hour, which Elsie partly filled by finally finding shoes she had been looking for.  Vodafone store, on re-opening, went through usual checks, used all the battery on my phone to call the helpline, announced that the anti-fraud department had closed the SIM and refused to give any further help.

The fuel in Agroplolis was more reasonable, so we topped up before departing the following morning and sailing, gently, then motoring down the coast to anchor just north of the port of Piscotia, laying 2 anchors on the gentle slope to keep our head into the swell.  There was just a small hotel with rows of deckchairs and we joked that at least there wouldn’t be an all-night disco.  20 minutes later, the Zumba class started at 120 dB.  Another 2 days of mostly motoring took us down to Isla di Dino, finding a patch of sand to the NE of the island then Isla di Cirella.

Regular readers may recall that last March we vowed to read the pilot book more carefully.  On the 13^th the wind picked up in the afternoon and, to avoid an uncomfortable night, we looked for a marina.  Armantea looked OK ‘for smaller yachts’.  We could see masts inside and only draw 1.6 metres so proceeded in, only to see 1.7 on the echo sounder as we approached the only available berth, alongside a rough pier.   The masts belonged to local yachts half our size, stern to pontoons in even shallower water.  Time to look at tides.  They are small in this part of the world but do exist and I discovered that we had entered 30 minutes after High Water (30 Cms).  As the swell was now building, there was no option to leave today.  Ashore to a truckstop for an excellent (and huge) pizza.  With beers + appetiser and pud E15.

In the morning, a closer look at the tide table and a careful sounding round the harbour and entrance from the dinghy and decided to leave on a rising tide which meant a late departure, so cast off at 1630 and felt our way out,  We touched, gently, just off the berth but otherwise no problem apart from raised pulses.  We had 20 miles to go to Vibo Valentia (where we should have gone the night before) so motored on until the wind picked up to give us a great beam reach right into the lee of the harbour wall, where we anchored for a comfortable night.  In the morning, dinghied in for provisions.   A noticeable feature in Italy, as opposed to Spain, is that although marinas are expensive, there is perfect acceptance of those that choose to anchor for free and just use the dinghy to come ashore.  A strong easterly wind was forecast so, on the 15^th, we motored in light airs the 12 miles to Tropea, where we stayed 2 nights, enjoying a walk up to the old town on the hill.

Blow over, on the 17^th we headed for the Aeolian Islands.  This is an archipelago off the north coast of Sicily.  Odysseus’ men released the bag of dangerous winds here and the area still has a reputation for sudden storms and squalls.  Following 2 days of strong easterlies, we planned to go to an anchorage on the west side of Vulcano but, strangely, the swell was from the west so instead we headed for the nearer side, Levanto. A beam F2-3 gave us a smooth and rapid passage and we anchored, among half-a dozen others at 1720.  More arrived, including a French yacht which insisted on squeezing between us and our neighbour, despite protests from us both.   We could, and should, have moved 10-15 metres for comforts sake.  The bay has thermal vents and I went for a swim to sample the delights which were chiefly comprised of a rotten egg smell, and then severe pain as I encountered a jellyfish which stung me on my face and back.  Pain greatly reduced by application of vinegar externally and medicinal alcohol internally.  We continued the thermal spring investigation the following day with a visit to the mud baths, next to the anchorage.  A bit disappointing as they are really only dirty, smelly water with a smear of mud in the bottom.  Greatest entertainment were the open-air showers.  We had bought 2 tokens and used one for a rinse off and lather-up.  When it came to rinse this off, the second token didn’t work.  Elsie managed to get replacement tokens and exactly the same happened.

Aeolian Islands

The anchorage became progressively more crowded through the day and then, after sunset, the wind completely died.  Usually, provided everyone has roughly similar lengths of anchor cable out, a change of wind moves the whole fleet and you remain separated.  Now we drifted in random circles.  We put out fenders and shortened our chain to keep, as far as possible from our French neighbour.  Others, further away, started bumping into each other and tempers flared: shouting, barking of dogs and playing of loud music.

In the mud pool

On Sunday, 19^th, we headed up towards Stromboli, a constantly active volcano, in company with Carousel, who had arrived the previous day.  We were showing them a fine, straight, wake when the genoa collapsed.  The top shackle had parted (obviously not well enough moused).  Fortunately we were close to a good anchorage on Panarea and we motored in for me to go up and send the top rotator of the furling system down.  Having, by this time, missed the chance of sailing round Stromboli by day we elected to wait until 1800 and do a night sail instead.  This turned out to be an excellent decision.  To the west, the sky was clear and we saw The Green Flash at sunset (a first for Elsie).  We arrived at Stromboli at Dusk.  There was a cloud on the summit which obscured the caldera but at 2100, just as the tour boats departed, it evaporated and we had our own private pyrotechnic display, with sound effects.  We hove to for 45 minutes to watch before sailing back to Panarea.  Elsie commented that she could smell sulphur just before every eruption.  I pooh-poohed this as we were to windward but twice, on the way back, she was able to say ‘here comes another one’ 10 seconds before it occurred.  I have no explanation.

We arrived back at our previous anchorage at midnight and had a late start the following day, intending to sail down to the Sicilian coast.  The wind failed to materialise and stopped on the east coast of Salinas to buy bread etc.  The anchorage was remarkably comfortable and, rather than continuing to motor, we stayed for a swim.  This time, it was Elsie’s turn to be attacked by a jellyfish.  She reacts badly to any bite or sting and this time came out in a welt that looked like a 2^nd degree burn and went into a state of shock, causing great concern for an hour or so.  She had recovered by Tuesday morning (though still in pain) and we had pleasant sail down to Sant Agata.  This is a large harbour, designed for ferries which never arrived, and we were able to anchor inside.  Unfortunately, it is open to the NE, which is where the wind, and swell was coming from but we laid a second anchor to keep our head into this and had a comfortable night. 

We continued our 'virtual voyage' back from the Caribbean,  plotting daily updates of position and looking at the wind forecasts for the next week to plan the best route.  We even did a 'what if' by looking at what would happen if we left a week later.  Again, we elected to delay by a day, to let strong winds pass and 'set off' on the 9th.  Voyage 1 took us south of track but progressed well for the first 12 days, when we ran into an area of light airs.  We were only 400 miles from our destination and I suspect that we would have motored on in real life but we chose to sail, covering 50 miles a day for 3 days until we had a wind to take us to Flores, arriving on the 17th.

The second voyage progressed better although, again, we came south of track after a week to avoid strong winds and we 'arrived' on the 22nd after 13 days at sea.  On neither trip did we see winds in excess of 25 knots, and that was well behind the beam so I, at least, am convinced that we should be able to make the passage safely.

Ashore in the morning by dinghy firstly to a hardware store to replace a couple of hand tools and then to a supermarket for a good shop.  If we had paid attention to the directions given in the former, we would have saved quite a walk to the latter but we were well provisioned and alternately sailed and motored our way along to Cefalu.  There had been thunderstorms inland through the night and they continued for the next 2 days, at times giving almost constant thunder and lightning.  We passed through some very heavy showers, but never experienced any strong wind gusts, although we put out extra anchor chain each evening, just in case.  At Cefalu, we elected to anchor in the bay off the old town (very scenic) rather than go into the marina on the other side of the headland.  Reasonably quiet night followed by a dinghy ashore for a sight-see in the morning.  We were not entirely sure we were allowed to land where we did and there were a number of local youths paying attention to our dinghy, so we made it a short visit but did walk round the magnificent 12^th Century cathedral.  I was particularly taken with the glazing:  My theory (probably bunk) is that the original stained glass windows were damaged (war?) and the fragments were re-arranged in abstract patterns. Whatever they gave an interesting counter point to the medieval paintings and mosaics.  Being a bit low on water, we called the marina to see if we could come in to take some and yes, we could go to the fuel berth for this.  A charge of E10 was made and we thought this a bargain until we tasted it!

Cefalu Cathedral

It was another day of motoring and sailing along to Palermo, where we anchored between two marinas.  Nowhere near as scenic as the previous night but quiet and convenient.  Passing Mondello, the following morning, we saw where we should have stayed: scenic and sheltered.  We continued along the coast to Capo San Vito with multiple plans for the night as the wind changed.  We eventually decided to continue to the Egadi Islands intending to pick up a mooring in Cala Fredda.  As we approached, two yachts were heading north.  It seemed a little late in the day and we were worried that all the moorings were taken (anchoring is forbidden).  We discovered, on arrival, that the moorings were missing but several yachts were at anchor.  We managed to find a good spot between them (at least, until we looked down through the clear water and saw the ground tackle of last year’s moorings and regretted not using a tripping line on the anchor). Fortunately, we didn’t foul anything and picked up cleanly in the morning.  We stopped, briefly, off Levanzo for provisions then continued west, intending to circumnavigate Maretimo but the wind didn’t co-operate so we turned off the north coast and sailed back to the south of Favignana and into what looked like a perfectly sheltered bay to the west of Punta Longa.  This time there were mooring buoys and we complied with regulations and picked one up.  This was not without incident as we managed to lose the head of a patent implement marketed for this purpose and in manoeuvring for a second attempt ran over our own line.  This proved conclusively that the rope cutter on the propeller works but left us a rope short!  Despite appearances, swell worked its way in and, to add insult to injury, those several yachts that ignored the rules and anchored in the western corner seemed to be much more comfortable.

Western Sicily

A prompt start on the 26^th and we sailed back towards the south coast of Sicily.  A slow sail through the morning but just as we arrived at our on-off destination of Mazara del Vallo, the wind picked up and we elected to continue on to Porto Pallo de Menfi.  As we approached, the wind veered to blow parallel to the coast and the temperature rose by 10 degrees.  We were concerned that the increasingly strong wind would cause a swell to disturb our anchorage in the lee of the harbour but this time it was very calm apart from the local speed boats exercising their right to convert petrol into noise and waves.  Once they had gone to bed, a pleasant evening.  We had left ourselves only about 8 miles to go to Sciacca, which had good write-ups.  We needed laundry, provisions and a change of water so sailed gently round on the morning of the 27^th to tie up at the Lega Navale Marina.  We achieved our primary objectives but, as the evening heat was oppressive, put off a climb to the old town until the morning.

In the morning – horror.  Elsie’s jellyfish sting of the week before had flared up.  It was oozing serum and there was a large red area surrounding it.  A doctor was found, having his morning coffee in the yacht club.  He examined Elsie’s leg and wrote prescriptions on a scrap of paper.  These were filled by a local pharmacy and we abandoned all onward plans until the problem area showed signs of improvement.  After a further 48 hours we believed that, although the sting was still bad, it had improved a little so, on the 30^th, we left and had an interesting day’s sail 28 miles along the coast to San Leone.  The bottom is very flat here and we anchored the required 300 metres off the beach in 5 metres of water.  The swell was slight and we saved ourselves 5 minutes of effort by just laying a single anchor.

Monthly stats.
Logged:          758
Over ground: 760

May 2016

 In which we blast through the Balearics and have a short sojourn in Sardinia.

We woke to a beautiful morning in Cartegena on the Sunday 1^st May, just lacking a little sleep from the music playing into the not-so-small hours.  We had our usual shopping etc. to do but also wanted a good look round.  Our timing was, once again, a little off.  Museums and galleries have Monday as their closed day but many are free on Sundays.  Every Sunday except the 1^st May, when they are closed.  We did manage to walk round the old Roman amphitheatre and have a look round the town on Sunday and the site of the Roman Forum was open on Monday, but that was it.  While the centre of town and the harbour are thriving, just a few streets back things are crumbling.  The planners have to applauded, though, as the fascias of derelict buildings are propped up and preserved against the time when money permits their restoration.

Tuesday 3^rd started with light airs and the promise of afternoon sailing so, as we didn’t have far to go, we went round the arqueology museum, which gave a good insight into the preservation of underwater treasures.  We let go at 1215 and, after a motor to the head of the bay, had a fine sail 43 miles along the Coast to Torrevieja which has a huge harbour.  There is some confusion as to whether one is permitted to anchor inside it but we did and had a fine, undisturbed night.  Up anchor at 0915 the following morning and close hauled the 48 miles up to Campella which was our launching point for the crossing to the Balearics.

We expected to be anchoring for our first few nights in Ibiza, so took the opportunity for a big shop before departure and also topped up the diesel tank.  The distance across is too great for a daylight hop, so we left at 1430, to ensure a daylight arrival.  The wind on departure was NE3-4 but forecast to back to Northerly to give us a beam reach across.  This shift never happened and we were close hauled all the way and had to beat up the coast of Formentera to our chosen anchorage at Isla Espalmador.  This is an almost completely enclosed lagoon, giving protection from all wind directions.  It also gives a good view of the bay to the South, which is the haunt of Mega Yachts.  The owners of the 2 X 200 ft+ motor yachts no doubt felt inadequate next to the 300 ft monster but our eyes were taken with the 150 ft sailing yacht which obviously had a new suit of sails and was giving them sea trials for our entertainment. 

Sea trials

We stayed here for 2 nights before heading NW round the coast of Ibiza.  Next stop was Cala Castella, a pleasant but small bay with room for only one in comfort.  As we approached, we saw a couple of flotilla boats heading in for a late lunch, so full speed and drop to get prime position.  Once they had left, we laid a second anchor, to limit our swinging radius and dinghied ashore.  On the cliff above is a modern stone circle, aligned with the setting sun at winter solstice. This was erected by the boss of Circe du Soliel, who has a nearby mansion.  We were getting short of water so planned a short stop at San Antonio the next day.  On mooring we were informed that we would be charged 12 Euros per 30 minutes!  Elsie was left topping up the tanks while I did a quick dash to chandlery and supermarket.  We did overstay our half hour but only because it took them 10 minutes to process the payment.  Out again and on to Portinax, a nicely sheltered cala on the north coast.  From the sea, the tourist development looks rather up-market but on going ashore we found it to be otherwise and our snobby selves crossed it off our list. 

Ibiza stone circle

A further hop the following day took us round to Cala de San Vicente.  Again good shelter with some gorgeous looking villas on the surrounding cliffs but the centre was a little disappointing.  As was our arrival in the dinghy: I mistimed a wave going in and we got swamped so we walked round in dripping clothes.  As we were planning to cross to Mallorca the next day, we wanted provisions but the shopping was sparse.  On the off-chance, we asked for mushrooms and the owner popped through to the attached restaurant and fetched some.  Same with fresh meat.  We left before Elsie had the chance to order a bottle of wine.

An early start on Wednesday 11^th for the crossing to Mallorca.  Downwind under cruising chute most of the way, although we had to motor for an hour when the wind died.  Our destination was Porto Vells, just 2 miles south of Magaluf but a world away.  A large triple cala, well sheltered from all except NE winds and with some very nice houses overlooking it, including one with an elliptical infinity pool with blue glass facing – nice!  The anchorage was a little crowded when we arrived but once the lunch-stoppers had departed we were able to re-position to a prime spot.  The following day we rowed ashore for a look at some caves.  Obviously natural in origin, they had been seriously squared off inside.  A huge effort to no obvious purpose.  Elsie had been involved with a Facebook group where the topic of ‘anchor privilege’ had been discussed.  This is an invention whereby the first arrival sets the rules including personal space.  ‘Cobblers’ say us.  If we need a safe haven, then we drop our hook and if the sight of our washing or the sound of our wind generator offends – tough.  On our second full day here, we had a slight re-think.  The German who anchored 15 metres away was just about acceptable but the Russian who dropped his anchor, went ashore for lunch and was swinging within 2 metres was definitely not.  We were sufficiently concerned to delay our afternoon trip ashore until after they had left.

This is too close!

House with infinity pool

After a couple of days of light airs, we had the forecast of a sailing wind on the 14^th and set off for Cala Pi, about 18 miles away.  The conditions proved much better than we expected, so we carried on round to Cala Dor, a further 22.  The perfect anchorage has now been deemed out of bounds, so we had to go around the corner to Cala Gran.  We anchored between picnicking motor boats and, once they had left, laid a second anchor to limit our swing then dinghied round to the marina for a few supplies.  The following day the wind was not so kind and instead of the nice reach up the east coast, we had a beat to Cabo de Pera.  Once round there, we had a broad reach in strengthening winds across Bahia de Alcudia to Cabo Pina in Bahia de Pollensa.  Our chosen spot was just round the point and we were concerned that the building swell would follow us round.  We were also disappointed to see that 3 other yachts had beaten us to what would be a very confined area.  One of them, however was still manouvering and, seeing a fourth arrive decided to move on.  The other 2 were Dutch yachts, transferring fuel and once they had completed this, they also left, leaving us to pick our spot.  The bay is bouyed off as a military area, though all we could see was a beach house and a pedalo, so we decided that it was some Spanish admiral’s holiday home.  Outside the buoys was largely weed but we managed to drop 2 anchors in two areas of sand and settled for a comfortable night.

Admiral's beach house with pedalo

On the 16^th, we motored across the bay to Pollensa itself.  We had managed to book a berth for one night on the slightly arcane Ports IB website but found on arrival that there was space to spare and decided to stay 2.  Ashore for shopping, food and chandlery also booked a hire car for the following day.  The mountain roads along the North end of this island proved an interesting drive, especially coming up from Cala de la Calobra where we were against the flow of traffic, largely consisting of tour busses.  My reversing skills were tested.  Into Soller for lunch.  In Spain, under a law dating to Franco’s Republic, all restaurants have to provide a reasonably priced menu option and we decided to test this at a harbour front café.  The waitress obviously disapproved and provided extraordinarily slow service, but it turned out to be very good, both in quantity and quality and very good value at 15 Euros for a 3 course lunch at an establishment where many of the main courses were priced at 20.  The only problem was that it took over 2 hours of our day of sightseeing, so we travelled back on faster roads.  Stopped at a Lidl on the way back and stocked up on essentials.

It was time to move to a new island and on the 18^th we headed off towards Menorca. Light winds meant that we had to motor to the mouth of the bay but a building southerly then gave us a stately reach across.  I never cease to be amazed at the effects the islands have on winds.  Menorca is quite small and flat but, as we approached Cabo Nati, the SSW 4 turned in the space of 200 metres into a NE 3, making us close hauled up to Cala de Algareyens. The following day, similarly, what was forecast to be an easy sail back round the coast with a following wing proved to be, after the first 5 miles, to be a beat.  Algareyens had a huge area of sandy bottom of suitable depth and, as there was only one other yacht, we were able to get an ideal spot for the night.  Another beautiful bay.  On the 19^th we sailed, working harder than expected, back down the west side and into Cala San Saura, once again having a lovely spot all to ourselves.

On the 20^th, we continued our circumnavigation of Menorca to Cala Taulera on the approaches to Mahon.  This is an almost completely land-locked lagoon with a heavy mud bottom – ideal for anchoring except for the cleaning up afterwards.  Again, we repositioned after the lunch-stoppers had left.  The crew of a neighbouring yacht, Carousel, joined us for a beer and a chat and told us of amazing car hire deals to be had.  They had booked one for a week at a total price of 4 Euros.  After they left we looked and managed to find one at 12 Euros, but took the cancellable option for an extra 4.  On rising, the weather forecast, which had been dubious about our next leg, looked good, so, with 10 minutes to spare, I cancelled the car and we prepared to leave.  It was only later that we realised that we had not set foot on Menorca.  Definitely somewhere for a return visit.


We have been discussing future plans.  It is our definite intention to cross the Atlantic this winter and are reasonably satisfied that we can manage the trade-wind sailing with just the 2 of us.  Returning is another matter as we would be on a more northerly track under the influence of the North Atlantic weather systems.  To build confidence, we decided to do a 'virtual voyage' in real time, using the forecasts that we would have for real and on the 15th set off from the Virgin Islands on the first leg up to Bermuda. While we could not, of course, experience the actual weather, it was good to see how advanced forecasts changed as the days passed.  The system seemed to work well and we 'arrived' in Bermuda on the 22nd without experiencing anything frightening.  We decided that we would want to have at least a week before moving on, so will look to move off at the start of June.

Our passage across to Sardinia went well.  We had a beam reach for the first 18 hours but, owing to a misreading of times of windshifts, ended up North of track which meant being close-hauled for the following 12 and ended up with 4 hours of motoring in almost flat calm.  We anchored in the north end of Cala del Bollo, a few miles west of Alghero.  A Mistral wind blew up in the night but we sat comfortably.  In the morning I decided to load our new navigation data card into the chart plotter.  We would need this on heading East from Sardinia.  It would not load – disaster!  Phone call to the supplier, Navionics.  Is the software on the plotter up-to-date? No.  Then that’s why.  Downloaded latest software from Raymarine onto CF card and tried to load it.  Failed.  Spoke to Raymarine.  It seems that the biggest card the plotter will accept is 128 Mb and the smallest that I had was 2Gb.  We needed to get into port and find another card.  We picked up anchor and headed towards Alghera before common sense prevailed – we were leaving a secure, comfortable anchorage in near gale conditions to head for a strange port, with entrance exposed to the prevailing wind.  About turn and wait it out.  The next morning, the wind had dropped so we started again, only to discover that the anchor windlass kept cutting out.  We now had 2 urgent jobs.

We were met at the entrance to Alghero by 2 RIBs from different marinas competing for our custom, which enabled us to practice our haggling skills.  Once tied up, we searched ashore for a small capacity CF card but it was definitely 10 year old technology.  We worked through the windlass problem and discovered that the contacts on the relay were badly pitted.  The following morning we chatted to the owner of the boat next door, a fellow Cruising Association member.  ‘Electrical problems? You need Ricky' – telephone number supplied.  Sure enough, 2 hours later Ricky was there, quickly agreed that we needed a new relay and, on Thursday morning supplied and fitted that and produced a 64 Mb CF card the he kept purely for the job we needed done.  Chartplotter updated, try again with Navionics card and – failure.  This time I used on-line chat and, after 2 hours of expensive internet they finally discovered the problem lay with their servers producing corrupt data.  Problem on the way to being solved.  It just needed several more hours to reload all the chart data over a slow internet connection.

Alghero by night

We had had a few forays ashore and had liked what we saw, but finally had time for a relaxed stroll through the old town and along the city walls in the gloaming.  Truly stunning.  We decided that Sardinia should be added to our list of favourite islands.

We had wasted 2 days of good sailing weather and now had the prospect of a couple of light air days.  We filled them by first sailing / motoring South to Bosa.  This has a new breakwater round the entrance to the river, giving us a perfect anchorage and the opportunity for a dinghy trip up the river to the old, picturesque town.  On Saturday, we made the reverse trip back to near our original anchorage.  This time, as the wind was forecast to shift to, light, southerly we went round the corner to Cala Tramariglio, which would give better protection from this direction.  Mooring bouys were available but we prefer to anchor when we can.   We had to drop the hook in an area of weed, which we try to avoid, both so we don’t damaged the weed but also because it is poor holding but, as winds were not forecast to exceed 10 knots, we made and exception.  The day had been muggy and there were dark clouds to the West, which should have been sufficient clue.  2 hours later, we were hit by a squall and dragged the anchor, fortunately towards clear water.  A French boat, ‘perseverance’, dragged also, headed for the last remaining mooring buoy, then changed his mind and went back to anchor.  As the air had cleared, I convinced myself that a front had passed and we were now safe, so found a small patch of sand a re-laid the anchor.  At mid-night we heard the wind rise again and this time, there were 4 of us dragging, including ‘Perseverance’, which was upwind of us.  To our consternation, we saw that their entire crew was at the bow, struggling with the anchor, leaving no-one at the controls.  I had to swing Ruby clear of them as they dragged past, fortunately without contacting our anchor chain.  Enough being enough, we picked up and backed up to the remaining mooring buoy and made fast for a settled night.

Bosa from the river.

Sunday was forecast for good sailing, and so it proved.  Up past the NE tip of Sardinia and Isola Asinara.  We were kept company for the first part by a yacht out of Alghera who kept changing his sail plan but couldn’t keep up with us under genoa, then cruising chute as the wind decreased. He gave up and motored through the narrow passage between the islands.  We rejected this as it is quite shallow and there was a good swell running.  Once round the top of Asinara we continued to sail well but, rather than continuing to our original destination of Stintino, entered Cala Capone and picked up a mooring buoy.  This beautiful bay could easily be mistaken for a Shetland voe – just 20 degrees warmer.  As we were alone, we took the time for some mooring practice on Monday morning before setting off East towards Capo Testa.  A slow run to start with but as the wind veered and increased we got a great broad reach past Testa and into Baia Reparata.  As we approached, Elsie got a message that our friends on Carousel had leap-frogged us and were already there.  Reparata is another great anchorage, protected from all except NE winds and with plenty of room.  We were invited over to Carousel for a barbeque and had a good, though early, evening as we planned an early start.  The forecast showed a tongue of wind to the East of the Bonifacoio Strait, strong in the centre but decreasing to almost nothing on either side.  We elected to go south, but must have overdone it as, after a couple of hours of F5, it died to almost nothing and we had a slow passage, alternating motoring and goose winged sailing.  At midnight, we had made 85 miles with nearly 100 to go to our destination on the Pontine Islands.