August 2016

In which we go back to our sailing roots and start the voyage back to the west

We started August at anchor off Othoni, an island to the North West of Corfu.  Elsie’s goal for the summer was the island of Kalamos, where she had once had an excellent swordfish steak and she wanted another before we started heading west again.  We had agreed that mid-August would be our turn time so we had a couple of weeks.  The forecast for the foreseeable future was hot, with little chance for good sailing so we decided to take it slow.  We timed our departure for the 9 mile hop to the next island, Erikousa, to catch the afternoon breeze and left at 1500, with a following F3 but, an hour later, it died and we had to motor anyway.  

Corfu

There was a forecast for strong overnight winds on the 2^nd and 3^rd and I was a little concerned at the lack of healing on my finger, damaged last month, so we booked into Gouvia marina for 2 nights.  We woke to a NNW4 on the 2^nd and were underway by 0830, with reefed sails.  After an hour, the reefs came out and, by 1000 we were motoring for 30 minutes until the westerly wind picked up enough for us to get the chute out.  This took us to the north east tip of Corfu, where the wind died again and we motored down the coast to Ypsos bay, intending to have a swim.  As we entered the bay, the wind sprang to life.  We dropped anchor anyway but the wind increased and, after an hour or so, we picked up and proceeded to Gouvia where we found ourselves at the back of a long queue waiting to berth.  By now the wind had increased such that maneuvering in a tight marina would be a challenge, but we managed to negotiate a stern to wind berth on the outside wall, tying up at 1630.

Ormos Ay Yeoryios, Corfu.

On the 3^rd, we hired a car for a look at Corfu.  On advice, we stuck to the north end of the island, heading off to Paleokastritsa and then taking minor roads round to Sidari, stopping to look at possible anchorages along the way. Round the north coast and stopped for a nice moussaka lunch at Barbati.  The air-con on the car wasn’t great and, by now, we had had enough heat so headed for Lidl for a big shop and back to Ruby.  In the evening, we went out again for a quick tour round Corfu town, not finding anywhere to stop but we did confirm that the anchorage to the east of the town looked good.

Corfu town

On the 4^th, I managed to get a replacement element for our immersion heater, which was tripping out the mains, then we topped up the fresh water and headed round to Garista anchorage and dinghied ashore for a late afternoon wander round the town.  There seem to usually be 2 – 3 huge cruise liners in for day trips, adding maybe 10-12,000 tourists.  There were none this day but the centre of the town with endless tat shops and cafes was still packed.  Just a few streets away, off the tourist trail, was much more pleasant – still traditional Greek.  On the 5^th we motored across to the mainland, anchoring in a very sheltered bay at Pagania half a mile from the Albanian border.  We almost had this to ourselves but for a lone fisherman who circled endlessly with a trolling line without ever catching anything.  We heard a goat bell but, on looking for the goat, found a horse.  One other yacht joined us for the night.  Saturday, 6^th, we picked up anchor at mid-day and motored back to Corfu and down the coast in light airs.  We had been led to believe that it was tourist central but, from the sea at least, it looked inviting and we regretted not keeping the car for a second day and doing a bit of exploring down here.  As we passed O. Psara, the afternoon SW’ly wind picked up and we had a pleasant sail down to Lakka at the northern end of Paxos.  This was a similar sized bay to where we had spent the previous night but had 25 yachts at anchor and another 20 moored to anchor and lines ashore round the edge.  Now being fairly practiced, we found a spot without too much trouble, although a following French yacht tried to cut across our bows just as we were about to let go and looked daggers at us then wandered round for 20 minutes before laying his own anchor.  As 5 other latecomers also found spots, I wasn’t too sympathetic.  Most people behave in a civilised way in anchorages but I was incensed at the RIB from a large motor yacht that repeatedly shuttled through this one at full speed creating huge wash and endangering swimmers having an evening dip off the backs of their boats.  Me hurling abuse at the driver, in front of his clients, at least made him vary his route away from us.

Floating bridge, Levkas 

Levkas canal

We wanted to be in Nidri, Levkas, on Monday morning, for some maintenance work, so on Sunday we set off for the Levkas canal.  There has been engineering work taking place at the northern end and charts, pilot book and reports all gave different advice.  The floating bridge had been away but was now back and, in theory at least, was operating its normal schedule of opening every top of the hour.  We set off at 10:15 and alternately sailed and motored with the aim of making the 1700 bridge.  With 3 miles to go, it looked as though we might miss it as we were arriving at the entrance just after the hour and didn’t want to rush through uncharted waters.  We needn’t have worried as we joined a waiting throng milling round and, after a 30 minute wait, dropped our anchor.  10 minutes later the bridge opened and the flotilla headed through, mostly in good order apart from one Italian, proclaiming to be a school boat who elbowed his way through the pack.  There was then a 3 mile motor down the canal and a further 6 miles, alternately sailing and motoring down to Tranquil Bay at Nidri.  Here, with light airs, we had some difficulty finding a good spot as everyone was lying in different directions.  A few knots of evening breeze sorted that and showed us a space for the night.  We had been told of a hotel pontoon, used by a charter fleet for weekend changeovers but with cheap space mid-week.  We gave them a call at 0900 on Monday and, sure enough, they had space so we wandered over and tied up.  We soon had a sailmaker on board to take away our main which was wearing through at the batten pockets and the bimini caver with a broken zip.  We thought he was joking when he asked if we expected them back the same day but by 1700 back they were, jobs done.  We were not so fortunate with a bracket for our new satellite aerial but we managed to get water heater repaired, windlass stripper straightened and top ups of diesel and very good water.  All this with a complimentary swimming pool with (not complimentary) iced coffees.  While here, we celebrated a year since setting off from Monkstown, Ireland.  Nearly 8,000 miles sailed; no major damage; lots of lessons learned and still talking to each other.

We spent 3 nights at Nidri before setting off for where we had done our first cruising, nearly 5 years before, on a 27 ft boat.  No particular place to go so, once through the Meganisi channel, we let the wind decide and ended up in O. Filatrou on Ithika.  Mooring required laying the anchor then taking lines ashore.  Elsie is confident driving neither Ruby nor Rubette, so it needed a bit of planning which came to nought when a lady, swimming from a tripper boat decided to stop exactly where I needed to go with the dinghy and berate me for using it in swimming waters.  The fact that her boat had been moored the same way didn’t seem to figure.  We eventually got moored, with a little help from someone from a motor boat and spent a reasonably comfortable night. This was aided by following the example of the larger vessel to our East who, when the nightly westerly sprang up, shifted his moorings from stern to bow and lay head to wind.  We did likewise.  

We did have a target on Friday and set off for Port Leone at the nearer end of Kalamos. This is a bay that we have visited each time we have cruised the area and is one of our favourite places.  There was a brisk NW’ly blowing and we had a cracking close hauled sail with 2, then 3 reefs in main and genoa.  The wind backed a little as we progressed and we ended up on a broad reach with reefed main and full genoa.  We expected to find the bay full, but there were only 2 other yachts there on our arrival.  We have always anchored at the south end before but, with the prevailing wind, the western side looked better.  As ever in these parts the chart was inaccurate and there was only a narrow rim to anchor on so we laid our main to hold against the wind and kedge further out to keep us offshore in case the wind changed.   A couple of hours later, an Italian came inside us and started to lay his anchor over ours.  I pointed this out to him but he continued, then swam out and assured me that he could see both anchors and they were clear.  To cut a long story short, they were not and, at a time when we should have been enjoying sun-downers, it was up to us to sort out the mess, re-lay 2 anchors away from him and then watch him take the prime spot we had chosen 6 hours before. 

We were troubled by wasps that evening but managed to clear the inside of the boat before bed.  The next morning, they were back in battalion strength and, rather than the planned lazy morning with maybe a donder ashore by dinghy, we made a rapid exit. Winds were light and directly ahead, so we didn’t even bother to prepare the sails but made for our destination of Kalamos port.  This is run by an enterprising local, George, who acts as unofficial harbourmaster, personally tying up visiting yachts and pointing to his restaurant.  This has doubled in size since our first visit, so he must be doing well.  Back then, we had had magnificent swordfish steaks and last time, 3 years ago, we had come especially for Elsie to have another, only to be told that they had sold out and it had been a half joke that the only reason we were in the Med this summer was for Elsie to get her swordfish steak from Georges’.  That evening we popped a bottle of fiz to celebrate our goal and my forthcoming birthday and went ashore.  There were a worrying few moments while the waiter checked the fridge but all was well.  Elsie had her swordfish. 

Out in the morning and a beat into a heading F4 back down to Ithaka, mooring a little further in O   Filatrou than before.  I reconnoitred mooring points with the dinghy in advance and had ropes ashore so that, after we had dropped anchor and backed in, I could bring them back aboard while Elsie held Ruby steady.  There were light winds and we had a big space but she still found it stressful and we, once again, resolved to get her to do more of the manoeuvring under power.  She did go out in Rubette that afternoon, and again the following day, to practice using the outboard which again I always use.  The gaps on either side of us were filled with catamarans and, inevitably, it was an Italian on our port side who decided that he needed to keep his engine running to provide his guests with hot water and power.  This is a no-no with sailing sailors and irritation levels rose.  After 3 hours, with a bit of shouting and us running our generator with the exhaust pointed at him, he eventually consented to turn it off.  He pushed off the next morning and we decided, as there was no obvious weather window to start our journey back west, to have a day off, just reading, swimming and having little potters in the dinghy.

Moored stern-to, Ithaka

By the 16^th, it was looking like the best time to depart back to Sicily would be the weekend, so we had a few days to spare and, the wind seeming co-operative, we decided to cross to Astakos on the mainland.  This is described in the pilot book as a rural town with little concession to tourism.  With the normal morning light airs, there was no need for an early start so lifted anchor at 1225.  We had to motor away from the island and were then close hauled in a N’ly F3 past the island of Atokos.  Once past this obstruction in the middle, we had a fine broad reach in a W’ly F4.  This increased to F5 as we approached our destination and we were a little concerned that the crosswind would prevent us from berthing.  This fear was allayed as we got a little lee in the harbour and a helpful local aided us in and then pointed to his restaurant.  The writer of the pilot book has evidently not visited for a while as the harbour front was very touristy with tavernas and tat shops.  The harbour water was pretty putrid too.  We had a stroll ashore and found places to provision the following day then decided to do the decent thing and eat at our mooring assistant’s establishment.  We were pleased to find that prices were about half of those at Georges but that was the best that could be said.  Main dishes were plain meat and chips and the service was appalling.  As there was no berthing fee, we consoled ourselves, by regarding the meal as a freebie in a E30 marina.  Oh, and free beer too.  After provisioning and watering in the morning, we headed out to find a good sailing wind. Unfortunately it was coming from where we wanted to go so we had a spirited beat with 1 then 2 reefs in F3 increasing F5 across below Atokos then north to the Meganissi channel where it died leaving us to motor the last few miles back to Tranquil bay where we found a good spot to anchor.

Tranquil bay, Nidri

 On the morning of the 18^th, we motored up to and through the Levkas canal then alternately motored and sailed up to Paxos, anchoring outside the main harbour at Gaios.  As so often, we were neck and neck with another boat on arrival.  As he was on our starboard bow, I did the seamanlike thing and gave way and he validated my choice of spot by laying his anchor there. As we backed off a (inevitably Italian) motor yacht roared past feet away at 15 knots to screams of abuse from yachts who had swimmers in the water.  This put me off my stroke a bit and first shot at anchoring put us too close for comfort to someone but second attempt was better.  We dinghied into the packed harbour with Elsie driving though she did let me park as we had to squeeze between two yachts.  Having a beer let us have internet for our essential last check on the weather for the following day’s departure, confirming that late afternoon should get us the best winds for the passage.  A lazy day on the 19^th, with just a little more dinghy practice for Elsie, including a first solo under power.  It seems ridiculous that we have been living on board without this happening before but we have just got into a routine of who does what.  We are making determined efforts to change this so we can be more flexible should events require it.

We picked up anchor at 1800, motored the mile or so to the bottom of Paxos and set sail for Sicily.  The wind forecast suggested that we should be able to put it just ahead of the starboard beam and make a nice curve across but it wasn’t quite that kind and we were just short of close hauled reefing as required as the strength varied from F3 – F5.  We made good time though, averaging 6.5 knots.  The wind died on the afternoon of the 20^th and, apart from a few hours sailing the following morning it was motoring all the way.  We had intended to anchor where we had on the way out, under the toe of Italy, but the timing looked good to go through the Messina strait so we continued.  The forecast light headwinds here turned out to be 18-20 knots, but this came as no great surprise and we passed through without problem and a neutral current until we reached the fabled Charybdis where we were headed by 4 knots for a while.  We continued motoring, with a little wind assist from a light northerly across to Vulcano.  We were going to arrive after dark but before moonrise and our hope was that, it being late August, the French would have headed home and there would be plenty of space in the anchorage.  They may have gone but there were more than enough Italians to compensate.  We circled for a while and made one attempt to anchor but couldn’t find space without being in ridiculous depths.  We could see many mooring lights in the bay across the isthmus and anywhere else locally was likely to be exposed to the westerly swell so we bit the bullet and went to the marina.  Shocked to discover that the band 4 charge advised by the pilot book translated to E100 per night but sleep was important so we grimaced and paid. 

Approaching Vulcano at sunset.

More internet gave us a forecast for onward departure to Sardinia on Tuesday 23^rd so a top-up of water and provisions then a motor up to Lipani for fuel and an anchorage halfway up the island.  At the fuel dock a 50 ft motor launch, ahead of us in the queue, got within rope throwing distance then thrashed his engines back and forth while the shore staff pulled him in;  we were waved in ahead of him and glided serenely to our berth, Elsie lassoing a convenient bollard to a calls of ‘Bravo, Signora!’  He later demonstrated his true superiority but passing us at 25 knots and leaving us rocking in his wake.

Calculating the time to depart for the next leg was problematical.  Weather forecasts suggested a slow second half of the passage and I wanted to avoid another dark arrival in an unknown anchorage. The moon was in the last quarter, so pre-dawn was better than post-dusk.  We decided on 10:00 but the weather, as so often decided otherwise.  The overnight wind was from the south west but this veered to the north and our anchorage, at the south of a bay, was uncomfortable so we picked up at 0930.  Elsie has written about the passage.

Having made better than expected progress from Greece to Sardinia, we felt that we could relax a bit which was fortunate as there seemed no good weather window in the near future to take us onwards.  We spent two nights at anchor off Villasimius before moving on in a series of short hops. The first, on the 27^th was under Genoa only to Marina Picola del Poetto.  The wind was forecast SE’ly but was almost due east and the anchorage was a little lumpy until it died down at sunset.  The following day we wished to go south.  Again the forecast was SE’ly but this time it quickly veered to head us all the way, F4, so it was a beat down the coast with one reef.  We passed Kokomo, possibly the largest sloop in the world at 195 ft, but he was motoring so we didn’t get the full sight. It took us nearly 8 hours for an achieved distance of less than 30 miles but was enjoyable in slight seas and brilliant sun.  Anchored for the night in the bay at Malfatano and decided, with still no weather window in sight, to stay for a second.  On the 30^th we alternately sailed and motored round to Porto Ponto Romano, a largely derelict commercial port on the causeway between Sardinia and Isola di Sant’ Antioco.  Here we were able to go alongside a quay, free of charge for up to 2 nights, though there was no power water or rubbish bins.  We did manage to do a good shop and laundry.  In the morning we went round to the fuel berth where the helpful attendant not only gave us good water but also took our rubbish – thanks. We concluded the month with another beat down I di S. A. to anchor off a beach for a quiet night.

Monthly stats:

Logged                 984

Over Ground     928     

The Journey - by Elsie

The Journey

23^rd August – 25^th August 2016   Canneto (Aeolian Islands) to Carbonara (Sardinia)

265 nm in 41 hours 55 minutes

23^rd August 0930

After a very restless night because of swell we lifted the anchor at 0930 and set off on the next leg of our journey out of the Med. We had looked at three weather sites on the internet – Predict Wind, zyGrib and Passage weather. Predict wind is the new one and I am trying to get used to it and all its foibles. It will be the model that is used when the satellite phone is the only way to contact the world and when every second downloading, talking and texting costs a fortune so the more adept I am at using it and reading the systems the better. I don’t particularly like it and in my short experience it has not been very accurate in the Med, but I must persist. Passage Weather is my favourite and always seems to be almost right. The other one, zyGrib is the new grib file system Lionel has started using, pretty colours and the information seems ok.  The summary was 20 knots at the most, on the beam dying during the first night and probably a lot of motoring the next day. Not good but not bad either. We had disagreed on what time we should depart so we compromised, he said 0900, I said 1200 so we decided last night that 1000 was a good compromise???? I don’t understand the logic either but hey, it works for us. So, we left at 0930, into a strong head wind and a biggish swell. The main sail was eventually hoisted at 1100 to help drive through the waves but at some instances we were still doing under 3 knots as we battled against wind and waves. We watched as a liner came into view. AIS told us it was The World, the liner where millionaires buy a cabin and each gets a turn to decide where they want to go. Lionel couldn’t decide where he would go but it was easy for me, up the West coast of Canada to Alaska and into the Arctic Circle which I don’t really understand because I crave sun and heat.

At 1300 as we cleared Isola Salina we sailed. Two reefs in the main and at least half of the jib rolled away we were going into a force 4 head wind with maybe 2 metres of short choppy swell. It was my watch but Lionel kindly stayed up on deck with me for a while until I got confident with the conditions. The wind wasn’t really a problem, the swell was. I should have been used to this nasty stuff because of all the sailing I’ve done in Scotland and Ireland but that was a long long time ago. In the Atlantic the swell is huge but it’s smooth and constant. This was “bang, bang, bang” then a few minutes when you held your breath hoping, praying that it had stopped then “BANG” and you were soaked. There were still two islands to pass before we were in open sea. The wind came and went depending on whether we were near land or in the gap between land. I persuaded myself that the wind was abating and watching a passing ketch I decided that if they could do it so could I so we took out the third reef at 1500 but half an hour later it went back in as the wind returned with a vengeance.  By 1700 the wind had increased to force 5 with gusts up to 25 knots and the swell had got worse. There was still three reefs in the main sail and the jib was just a wee pocket hankie. I had been knocked off my feet by a wave which had swept on board and soaked the both of us and stupidly I hadn’t closed the companion way hatch so there was water down below. Thank goodness it had not gone into the bilges where I keep all the bottles and cans of food – the cellar as we call it. By the end of my watch, 1800, we had managed to achieve about 34 nm. Lionel cooked dinner of chicken and pasta and afterwards I fell into bed exhausted, promising to do the dishes when I got up at midnight. Sleep was fitful and even with earplugs in the noise kept me awake. Ruby rocked this way and that then pitched and came down with a hard noisy slam. Not good sleeping conditions.

24^th August

Lionel woke me up around 2330. It takes some time for me to come to and I can be a grumpy cow when woken up. Conditions had not got any better and we were still going into a force 5 head wind with stronger gusts every now and then. Despite this, he had managed to maintain a very healthy average of around 7 knots so we were almost 90nm away from our starting point. The conditions had been bad enough in the daylight but at night, even with an almost full moon, I found them terrifying. With strict instructions to wear a life jacket at all times (he should know by now that I don’t need to be told) and to clip on to the new life line before I took the old one of when I was moving around the cockpit, he handed me the torch, our badge of office, and left me in complete charge. I will be honest, I sat terrified for half an hour then realised he wasn’t joking about leaving me to get on with it and so I got on with it. There isn’t much to be done when the wind is blowing from a constant direction at anything from 15 to 25 knots. You sit and watch the wind hawk. You watch for lights out at sea. And you duck the waves which were still coming over the side. The one and only ship I saw was a block of flats (a liner to you land lubbers). I must confess it was a very nice liner driven by a lovely captain who slowed down and altered course to avoid me by 3 miles. This course of action is unheard of. Personally I think large ships, especially ferries, are programmed to come as close as humanly possible to small ships, especially 12 metre boats. Therefore I felt like radioing the liner, Splendour, and thanking the mannie who was driving for being so considerate but I didn’t. This is not the course of action a well salted sailor would take but if you ever read this thank you anyway.

I was managing to average around 6 knots, which wasn’t too bad. The wind slowly reduced and at 0500 I shook out the third reef and put out a little more jib. We had passed Ustica about midnight and during my watch the lights slowly receded into the night. The next lights that we would see would be on Sardinia. There isn’t much that can be done on the night watch. It’s six hours of watching, listening and thinking. I usually find myself trying to put my life in order, trying to understand my past, making sense of the present and guessing the future. “Good game, good game” a very wise woman told me 18 years ago to walk away from the past, it’s past and there is nothing you can do about it but sometimes reflection is good for the soul so I play the game that everyone does every now and again, “what if”.

I woke Lionel at 0545. 123nm had been travelled and the wind was now down to force 3. Hurrah!!! I l had left the reefs in for him to decide what to do because even though the wind was down there was still huge gusts which rounded up the boat and we were almost broaching. He decided to leave it for an hour and see if it improved. I went down, had breakfast, brushed my teeth and went to bed, hopefully for a better sleep than last time. By 0920 the wind had gone and Lionel started motoring. Well, the forecast had predicted this. Motoring is good sometimes. Although we have three huge service batteries, a 64w solar panel and a much improved (it had a little trip back to the factory for new bearings) wind generator we still have to recharge using the engine or generator if the amp hours deficit is more than 100. If George, the auto pilot, is being used we use around 6amps every hour therefore in the 10 hours of darkness, when the relative wind is non-existent we can run down the batteries fairly quickly. The noise of the engine woke me up but I didn’t realise it was being run because there was no wind so I quickly went back to sleep. Lionel is very lucky, he can read, write and do most things when we are on the move, unlike me who feels sick after a few pages. He was busy writing a piece for the blog when he realised that there was wind blowing through his hair – or what hair he has left. So, at 1045 he started sailing again with all the white canvas billowing in the 12 knots of wind. Wonderful.

When I got up at 1100 we had travelled 150nm, the wind was 12 knots on the beam and the average speed was around 7 knots. Bliss. The next worry was calculating when we were going to arrive. The anchorage we were heading for was a huge area but going by past experiences we knew the Italian’s could fill a huge anchorage fast. The experience at Volcano still stuck in my throat – the anchorage had been full and we had to go into the marina paying 100 euros for the privilege – and I knew that 100 euros was small change for a marina berth in Sardinia in August. Therefore when we were going to arrive was pretty important. Although there was a moon, it did not rise before 0100 and the dawn started to break around 0530. Between these times would be good if we had to arrive at night. Then there was sleep patterns. I wanted Lionel well rested before he faced anchoring. Anchoring was no problem he had a system and it worked but he still stressed, as most skippers do, over depth and holding and space. By midday we had done 155nm with 90 miles to go. We averaging around 6 knots which meant we would arrive around 0400 the next morning. Ok, that would work.

My watch began at midday and I had a pretty uneventful l six hours. The wind was just on or just behind the beam force 3 to 4. Approximately 42nm in 6 hours. Those good at sums will know but I can’t help boasting, an average of 7 knots. I sunbathed, watched very small dolphin – could have been porpoises -, and dodged a few cargo ships. Six hours of sitting in the sun watching the world or water go by. This started me thinking about the Atlantic crossing from Cape Verde to Barbados. I could have three weeks of this depending on the strengths of the winds. Is this when sailors get bored and fall out of love with sailing? What on earth do you do for all that time? I have heard stories of sailing for 12 days in a row without touching the sails or course. It wouldn’t even be George we would be depending on it would be Hattie, the wind steering gear who is a very independent girl and goes with the wind. Basically the course is set to the wind and when the wind changes Hattie corrects herself. The great thing is she doesn’t need power so we cut the consumption by two thirds and we don’t need to run the generator everyday maybe every third day. However, that makes me almost redundant. Almost, I would still need to make witty comments, wash the dishes and generally tidy up. I love him to bits but the skipper is a messy so and so. It’s almost the only time we ever have words. Now panic has set in. What will I do all day? There is just so much cleaning a girl can do and how do you make sarcastic comments to a sleeping man? I know I could write my memoirs. Only problem is every other person you meet is doing that and the market can only take so many nautical travel books even though mine would be funny, well written and full of interesting facts. I spent the rest of the afternoon contemplating how I can waste three weeks of my life. The conclusion? It won’t be wasted, I will have fulfilled a dream and I would never fall out of love with sailing, it’s my passion.

Lionel didn’t sleep very much during his six hours off. I started to worry about his state of mind tomorrow morning when we are trying to anchor in the dark. We had Mediterranean chicken for dinner, thank goodness we both like garlic as the boat stank of the stuff for the next couple of hours. Another good thing about our partnership is the division of labour. He cooks, I clean. It depends on your preference whether you think it’s a good or bad way of doing things. During dinner I come up with a cunning plan. I sleep anywhere. I find a pillow, shut my eyes and fall asleep. Easy. Lionel does not, that is why I always do the night watch. He finds it easier to sleep in the hours of darkness. I have worked it out if he calls me at 2300 instead of midnight he should get a good five hours sleep before he has to park Ruby. He agrees. I go to bed happier knowing we only have 70 nm to go and we will be in Sardinia again.

25^th August

An uneventful five hours. I slept, he sailed with full sails and a 10 knot wind more or less on the beam. At 2300 Lionel looked exhausted. He marked a waypoint on the chart where he wanted woken up. There were two shallow areas as we approached the south coast and he knew I was nervous sailing at night near land. What a treasure? I had about 30 nm to go so I worked out if 6 knots were achieved he could have 5 hours sleep. Grrrrrr. It was just my luck, 12 knot wind directly on the beam and Ruby sped along like a dream achieving 8 knots without any effort.  The sea was as smooth as a baby’s bottom. I had to slow down somehow. I reefed the Jib. It broke my heart but we slowed to 6.5 knots. It was one of the most fantastic night sails I have had. Looking up I thought I probably could see every planet and star ever created. I could even see the twist of the Milky Way. There was Mars but I still couldn’t find Snickers!!!! When the moon rose it was a huge red crescent. A beautiful clear warm night. I watched the approach of the Sardinian coast, trying to work out which lighthouse was which altering the course every now and again to get to Lionel’s mark on the chart. The last time I approached land at night was many months ago in The Canaries. I picked out two white lights directly in front of me. Thinking it was a ship I watched them carefully. The space between the two vertical lights got bigger and bigger. What on earth was coming towards me? This was the biggest ship I had ever seem. You guessed correctly. It was two lights on the island we were approaching. I have never been allowed to forget my mistake and it gets told every now and again to anyone who will listen, all in good fun of course. It’s my own fault for admitting what had happened. There were no witnesses.

My plan didn’t work. I had to wake him up at 0315 instead of 0500. He didn’t mind. The amp hours were almost at 100 so we ran the engine as we would be at anchor for a couple of days. We managed to sail almost into the anchorage, dropping the sails and motoring into an easy space, dropping 30 metres of chain at 0425 and then tidying up. The anchorage was busy with a few sizeable yachts but it was a huge area and the wind was light so you could anchor more or less anywhere. It was mostly clear water over sand and the holding was excellent. A beer was poured and everything was good in the world. Two tired but very happy salty people went to bed. 556nm in less than a week with a 36 hour rest in the middle. Life is good.

Hello Russia

Hello Russia.

One of the features of this blog site is that I can see where the readers are and I have noticed that, over the last month or so, many people in Russia are reading it (or a few people many times).

I am just curious to know why.  Has it been set as a school project and you are preparing critiques? Is there a burning desire to sell the house and sail off into the blue and you are looking for the pitfalls to avoid? Or is it just a quirk of technology that is giving you this site when you are really looking for the latest music download for a band called LionelandElsie?

I would love to know, so please add a comment to this post.

Lionel

July 2016

In which we continue round Sicily, pop down to Malta and back and head off towards Greece

On the evening of the 30^th June, we saved ourselves 5 minutes effort by not laying a second anchor.  This worked well until the small hours when a swell built up from the south and we started rolling enough to disturb our sleep.  There was forecast to be an onshore wind the following night, so we elected to head for a marina at Licata.  This is in a huge harbour basin, with only about 1/3 of the proposed pontoons in place.  Our sensitivity to price is obviously decreasing as I hardly flinched at the cost of E50 (and that was after a 15% discount).  All very pleasant and clean and with an excellent shopping mall but a little soulless.  They are also offering discounts for winter stays but I think that it will be a few years before we are willing to spend 6 months in one spot.

We were looking ahead to our crossing to Malta, from where I had a flight booked back to Scotland, and the following Friday looked promising so we elected to continue slowly down the Sicilian coast.  Our next stop was going to be in the lee of the harbour at Scoglitti but we discovered, in time, that a huge area is prohibited around a pipeline so continued few miles further south and anchored about 500 metres off a tourist beach.  The wind was forecast to be light and along the coast and we anchored in the lee of a shallow patch, this time being careful to lay 2 anchors to keep our head pointing just a little offshore.  This worked well and, as there was no urgency, we took the next day off and enjoyed doing not very much, only slightly irritated by the music from the shore, the jet skis and power boats touting for custom.  The stern anchor had dragged a little, so we re-laid our mooring to ensure a quiet night.  This time, however, a swell caused by some distance disturbance grew from the west, hitting us on the beam.  We slacked back the stern anchor, hoping that we would swing but this failed and we had a very disturbed night. 

On rising, we found that the forecast for the following week now showed no prospect of sailing across to Malta so we decided to motor across and spend a few days over there.  This we did, taking the opportunity to each get a little rest.  With 15 miles to run, a beam wind sprang up and Elsie was able to get a decent sail for a few hours.  Malta is one of the few places in the EU where one has to clear in with customs so, rather than head to anchor, we went into Mgarr marina, Gozo, where Ruby was booked in for our trip back to the UK.  Our trip, as Elsie, with a newly arrived grandson, had decided to also pay a visit.  On the 5^th, we set out for our tour of Malta, behaving rather like a dog passing lamp-posts, popping to every potential anchorage, of which there are many, on our way down to Valleta.  The wind was building from the south-west and after a tour of Grand Harbour, we looked forward to a downwind sail back to our chosen spot.  As we exited GH, the wind did a 180 so we followed suit and headed down to Peter’s bay, a scenic spot surrounded by sandstone cliffs.  There were about 10 other boats anchored as we arrived but, one-by-one, they left and we had a very quiet night.

Valetta

Vince, Deborah and friend

We had arranged a rendezvous with an old work colleague, Vince, who has settled here so were out the next morning to meet him and his Dufour. The idea was to do a little sailing together but, as we met, the wind died so, after a few photos, we went back to Peter’s bay and had a lazy afternoon and quiet night.  On the 7^th, we continued our circumnavigation of Malta, motor sailing and once again popping into potential anchorages and finishing up in Mellieha bay, where we had seen Paul Allen’s mega yacht Octopus earlier in the week.  On the 8^th, we motored back to Gozo, pausing for a swim on the way and started preparing for our trip back to Scotland.

Our flight on the 9^th wasn’t until the evening so, while Elsie did some shopping, I decided to change the engine oil.  On opening up the engine compartment, I discovered that the bilge had sea water in it.  Time for investigation, which required the engine running.  I was very mindful of the two generator belts but must have had a lapse of concentration as there was a sudden tug on my left hand and a loud bang.  I looked down to see the auxiliary belt broken and my left ring finger tip hanging on by a thread.  Bugger.  Shouted for help but none forthcoming so had to put a temporary dressing on, restore the companionway steps, stop the engine, call for an ambulance and message Elsie.  It seemed most unlikely that we would make our flight and I cursed my stupidity.  However, the medical services were very efficient.  By the time I had done an initial mop-up (Elsie hates blood) and walked to the end of the pontoon the ambulance was arriving.  I was seen immediately at A&E and within about 90 minutes of the accident I was sewn together, topped up with anti-tetanus, X-rayed and discharged.  I could have done without the additional complication of a wind generator to hand carry but it had continued to make unpleasant noises and I had dismounted it a couple of days before.  If I didn’t take it now, it would be another 3 months before the next opportunity.  So, with a 10 Kg back pack we set of by ferry and bus to the airport.  Security were a bit bemused but let me take it on board and we were on our way.    

After a successful trip home (my medical checks, chandlery shopping and catching up on admin stuff: Elsie bonding with 4 grandsons in a rented cottage), we returned to Ruby a week later.  A couple of ex-pats from the local sailing club came round on Monday to assist on the investigation and repair of the leak and we were ready to move on.  Tuesday looked like a promising day to make the crossing back to Sicily.  It didn’t go as well as hoped.  We first had a one hour delay while the local immigration officials looked at our passports and graciously permitted us to leave (within the Schengen area!).  We should have then abandoned plans to complete the circumnavigation of Gozo but didn’t, which added a further hour.  And then the promised wind failed to appear so we had to motor most of the way across, anchoring outside Pozzallo at 2035.  We decided to stay for a day, as there was no wind forecast and set off next morning in the dinghy for a trip ashore.  After 200 metres, the engine coughed and died.  The carburetor bowl had fallen off!  My hand was still poorly so Elsie had to row us back.  As she did so, the local coastguard boat arrived and instructed us to move a further 500 metres from the Port entrance.  We were already well clear and, in the time we were there, there were only 3 movements of commercial vessels so believe this was just a ‘jobsworth’.  He was in charge so we complied, only to see a French yacht occupy our good spot and remain unmolested.  We had another trip ashore later, with more success, but were fairly unimpressed with the grubby town and, especially, the grudging permission for us to park our dinghy for no more than an hour.

On the 21^st we picked up and sailed / motored 20 miles round the corner to Cape Passero.  Here, there was a choice of anchorage, either side of a sandbar running to a small island.  We elected to use the northerly one and had another quiet night.  It was time to head on to bright lights.  We wanted to see Siracusa but there were horror stories about huge fines to yachts who anchored in the wrong place so we researched carefully.  Called on channel 16 – no reply, but telephoning got us permission to enter and an approved anchorage spot which was a long way from where we wanted to land with the dinghy.  There was only one other yacht in the approved area and about 10 in the convenient but illegal one. On the evening of the 22^nd, we dinghied ashore to canal separating the old and new towns and, after a long trek, found a supermarket for provisions.  We had heard a report of a dinghy being vandalised here, but Rubette was safe on our return.  The following morning, we went to the ‘Town Quay’ of the old town for a good wander round and a Gelato.

Siracusa sunset

On the 24^th we, mostly, sailed up to Catania where I had booked us in for a couple of nights, not without some difficulty.  No English was spoken, so I had to get a spiel prepared from Google Translate.  The staff turned out to be very helpful and assisted us with changing gas bottle and disposing of old oil which I eventually changed on the engine.  I had carefully separated the filter and oily rags from the general waste but these were just dumped in the skip.  Tourist information was harder to come by.  There was an office in the port building but it seems that it is only open when cruise ships were in.  We wanted to go up Etna and it took a lot of traipsing around before we found which bus to take and where to buy a ticket etc.  We got sorted and on the Monday took the bus to the foot of the cable car.  Bus ticket very reasonable at E6.60.  Cable car, 4X4 bus and guide at the top less so at E63.00  but it was a one-off so up we went, only to find that it was too windy to be allowed to the crater rim and too cloudy to see much.  Oh well.

 

We stayed an extra day for a little maintenance, shopping and a look round the town.  There are some wonderful old buildings, mostly constructed of lava but, with a few exceptions in the touristy areas it is all very scruffy and grubby.

Out on the 27^th and alternately sailed and motored up the coast to Taormina where there is a nice hook in the coast to protect the anchorage from northerly swell. Despite the light winds, this was considerable and we were concerned that it might work its way in but we were very comfortable and had a fine view of superyacht Vava 2 which, on arrival, opened up its stern to reveal a ‘beach bar’ with tasteful décor, mood lighting and elegantly dressed  guests.  But their cocktails probably tasted no better than our white port and tonic.  Another day of motorsailing took us back to mainland Italy and an anchorage picked almost at random at Palizzi on the bottom of the toe.  Although the day finished with a light south-westerly wind, we had another very comfortable night.

Vava 2

The plan had been to do another coastal hop or 2 before crossing to Greece, but looking at weather forecasts on Friday morning, it seemed that we were unlikely to get sailing winds in the ‘instep’ of Italy for the foreseeable future and for further on, there was no time like the present.   We set off with multiple plans, including just a day-sail (or motor), stopping off at Sa Maria, on the ‘heel’ or crossing to Corfu.  The first few hours went well, if a little slowly, under just cruising chute, then CC and main.  We then had to motor for 6 hours before the wind changed to north of west and gave us a broad reach.  There were many changes in wind, and sailplan, through the night.  A little motoring, some good reaching and reefs going in and out with wind changes.  At 0900 with a NNW’ly 4 on the beam and forecast for it to continue, I made the unilateral decision to head for Othoni, an island just NW of Corfu.  We just had to average 6 knots to make it before dark.  All went well for the first couple of hours and we averaged 7 knots.  At mid-day the wind dropped to F3 and the current changed to head us.  6 knots through the water but 5 across the ground.  We held our nerve, with just a couple of 20 minute motors when the wind dropped further and ended up with 2 reefs in main and genoa, achieving 7 knots with a NW’ly 5 gusting 6.  We were still 4 miles short at sunset but there was enough afterglow for us to weave into the anchorage and settle for a welcome meal, drink and good night’s rest.

We reckoned that we had earned a break and spent the 31^st at anchor just amusing ourselves watching charter boats on their first day of freedom manouvering round the anchorage and marveling how white skin could be in the middle of summer.

Monthly stats:

Logged                 616

Over ground         583   

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.