OUT TO SICILY
I had chartered a brand new Bavaria 40 Cruiser and flew out to Sicily with Marion, Tim, Mike, Kate and Stuart. We experienced the usual shock from the blast of heat when we walked over the runway from the plane into the terminal. Caught a train into Palermo, then after a frustrating time with ticket machines we caught the mainline train for Sant Agata di Militello. On arrival, we did all the usual admin and shopping for vittles, before settling onto the boat. Dinner was at a local restaurant in town and we finished a long day by sitting in the cockpit in the warm night drinking wine. The boats next to us had charterers who were all Russians and were not particularly friendly to our gentle approaches.
 |
| BEARDY SAILOR AND CREW |
The Aeolian Islands are a volcanic arc of 140 kms off the north east of Sicily. There are 8 islands plus Ustica plus 6 submarine volcanoes. Two of the islands are live volcanoes - Vulcano, which gave its name to all volcanoes throughout the world, and Stromboli which has given its name to all sorts of things. My plan was to visit both of these islands.
 |
| SANT AGATA DI MILITELO |
SUNDAY 7 SEPTEMBER- OFF TO VULCANO
A leisurely start and I took us carefully off the pontoon at 1000 hrs before motoring out of Sant Agata and setting course for Vulcano some 28 miles away. This coast is quite confusing in its appearance from sea - unbroken blue mountains mainly- so I adopted one of my coarse navigation techniques and used the digital camera to photograph back where I had come from. I'm sure the RYA would get sniffy about this, but it gives me instant pilotage pictures which I may be very glad to have in a weeks time! I do sometimes use a camera for navigation and as an aide memoire but I've never heard of anyone else doing this. My view is that all means at your disposal are legitimate tools.
We put the sails up but the wind speed was only 3 to 4 knots and the sea was flat calm. Considering this area is named after the ancient god of wind, Aeolus, this is not what I had expected. The temperature was climbing and at 1130 hrs had reached 34 celsius and 55% humidity. We were still acclimatised to England in September and were therefore drinking huge volumes of water and sweating it out almost immediately. We soon discovered that the log was inoperative and I tried but could could not fix it.
I was concerned because of the very slow progress and I knew how far we still had to go and how suddenly night falls in this part of the world, so despite objections from Tim who is a dyed in the wool sailing at all costs sort of guy, I fired up the donk at 1425 hrs and we motored on at 6 knots, course 042 with the Island of Salina shaped like two huge breasts, off to our port side and coloured deep blue in the haze.
Eventually we closed in on Vulcano and drew nearer to its green flanks. There were some small boats buzzing around inshore and this was clearly a lovely and popular spot. I came round the point called Capo Grosso and turned into Porto di Ponente, which was guarded by a number of rocks and crumbly looking stacks. The pilot said the holding was poor, but there were a fair number of boats already at anchor, pointing into the land in the gathering evening sea breeze. I moved into position near the outside of everyone and laid the anchor. It was soon apparent that it had not taken and we were moving backwards. So I lifted it again and took the boat round for another go. This time the windlass seemed to stick and before I could stop him, Tim, who was up at the bow, took the yard long steel tube used for tensioning the lugs and raised it above his head - "No!" I screamed uselessly - before he melted the windlass one with a big ringing clang. I mean, this was only the first time this windlass had been used! One of the lugs snapped off and came flying aft like a fucking bullet before disappearing into the sea with a plop. A second's silence while we glared at each other and then the whole chain decided to roar out like the sound of a ship being launched on the Clyde. I immediately put the throttle into astern gear and drove back quite angrily until the boat brought up sharply and the bow rose up. We were there! Anchored. Not safely anchored, but anchored.
Everyone, led by Marion, suddenly went mad changing into their cossies and throwing themselves off the stern and splashed around in the sea whooping with delight and pleasure. I went forward to look at the windlass and muttering to myself, gently caressed the remaining two lugs. I hope this was not a bad omen.
Tim offered to cook, and made an excellent dinner. Mike, being an electrical engineer, rigged up an overhead cockpit light from the 12 volt socket, and we all sat there surrounded by dark humid night and ate Tim's pasta, washed down with an unhealthy quantity of vino. There was the sound of eating and drinking and civilised laughter from the other anchored boats, and we participated with our laughter too.
It was a quiet night for the crew but not for me. The wind strengthened and I could not settle. Throughout the night I kept sticking my head out of my cabin hatch to check my transits. The boat anchored between our port quarter and the reef did actually drag in the night and from the hatch I watched them re-lay their anchor. When dawn broke, the wind died and I fell asleep at last.
A SHORT DAY FOLLOWED BY A NIGHT IN LIPARI
A beautiful morning and a nice slow breakfast. Above us we could see the steaming flanks of the volcano and there was a strong smell of rotten eggs and sulpher. Marion and Tim had another swim off the back of the boat and reported that they could feel hot spots in the water. After they climbed back onboard I tried, and failed, to lift the bathing platform. It was operated electrically and extended on hydraulic pistons. However it was apparent that the design was stupid and the mechanics meant that when someone pulled onboard, the system would break. I tried many things to resolve it (except hitting it with a steel tube!) but the weather was calm, distances short, and I decided to leave it until later.
Everyone wanted to go around to Porto di Levante so that they could go and sit in the hot mud pools. God alone knows why. The true wind was only 6 knots so we motored round. When we got into the approach, there was a lot of traffic and a large cargo ship which was manoeuvering to come in. We could see that all the available moorings were taken and anchorages very crowded, so we turned around and motored over to the neighbouring island of Lipari. The Aeolian Islands are also known as the Lipari Islands, and Lipari seems to be the main town of the group. It was a beautiful approach and we hugged the coast to get the best views. Eventually, at 1200 hrs, we tied alongside a pontoon inside a hammerhead at Pontile Portosalvo. It was very secure because although we were alongside we also took two tailed moorings. Daylight robbery at 50 euros though.
We were highly entertained for the afternoon because every other space was taken by the Royal Thames Yacht Club who were operating a Sicilian Flotilla. On our other side we had a catamaran crewed by eight young unsmiling and uncommunicative Russian men who walked about their boat quite openly while completely starkers. The clues they gave off made us think they were military personnel. Anyway the Royal Thames Yacht Club provided us with enough eccentric 'englishman abroad' behaviour to keep us, (and the Italians), quite distracted with their antics. God knows what makes the Russians smile!
We spent the evening wandering around the old town of Lipari, eventually finding quite a posh restaurant at the top of the hill just under the castle. Some Irish Yotters were at the next table and we struck up a conversation. It was a splendid meal under the stars and we wandered back to the boat down through the busy alleys of the old town feeling very happy and relaxed.
 |
| LIPARI
STROMBOLI
|
Indeed there was, and most were already taken. There was a good breeze blowing round this corner of the island and I took the helm and came in to a buoy. Tim had the boathook and he did not manage to pick it up. I took another turn around and came back to the buoy - upwind of it. Tim and Mike caught the pickup but were so long in getting a line down to it the boat drifted away. They did not release the boathook, hoping to pull the boat back. Naturally, the head snapped off. I came round again. and handed the helm over to Stuart while I prepared a lassoo line. I tied both ends on to cleats, put the line outside the guardrail and through the fairleads. I signalled to Stuart who brought me up to the buoy and I threw the rope, successfully capturing the buoy. I tightened the loop and tried to bring the pick-up on board but the riser was too tight and I needed help. When two young guys came out in their dinghy to extract 35 Euros for using their buoy, they pointed out that there was no pick-up buoy. The small plastic buoy I had on board my foredeck was the mooring buoy! I was mortified - of course it was and I could see it now. We sorted it.
The beach was very close and comprised black sand. The volcano rose steeply above us and we could see puffs of smoke from near the top. However it was too far to climb up, it was too late, and it was too windy (F4) to be bothered with the dinghy. We stayed where we were and enjoyed the view over dinner and drinks.
STROMBOLI TO SALINA
We wanted to see the volcano in the dark so rose early, got the nav lights on and slipped away through the other moored boats at 1535 hrs. It was already hot - 25 celcius - or perhaps it never got lower than this. We motored round inside the lighthouse island of Strombolicchio which was flashing away. As we came round I kept well out to see because there was constant debris hurtling down the slopes and splashing into the sea. What appeared to be small rocks were actually the size of motor cars and I didn't want one of them bouncing onto us. The cone is about 920 metres above sea level and we could see smoke drifting out of it and we thought we could see the red glow of lava. However, we had left it too late to be really in darkness. The nav lights were out by 0600 and it was 0700 by now. We did however witness a magnificent dawn with Stromolecchio outlined against the sun.
We came close into Panarea to see what gives. I understand that of all the islands, this one attracts the rich and famous. There were no berths at the pier and all the moorings were taken. Anchoring could only be achieved very far out and there was a lot of traffic. All in all we decided to head for the island of Salina. By noon, the slight wind became no wind and we motored round to a place on the west of Salina called Rinella. I anchored off there in 14 metres. It was flat calm and we did not dig in the anchor. Indeed I could see it below us and we were lying to the caternary. The crew went for a lengthy swim off the stern and I sat with a cold beer and watched a water tanker offloading through a series of pipes. Water is so short on these islands that they need to freight it in.
At 1445, we had had enough swimming, enough sunning ourselves and enough lunch, so I picked up the anchor and we motored round in flat calm to the marina at Santa Marina on Salina. We were one of the first in that day and came in astern to the stone wall and picked up a slime line. This is a very interesting berth. It looks like an old military complex and I would be interested to know the history of it. The marina was run by a geezer in a large building at the end and I negotiated our charge down from his initial demand of 80 euros to 50 Euros. We had showers and sat back with Camparis watching the antics of the strutting little italian marina boys totally absorbed in their appearance and their own importance as marina staff.
 |
| SALINA |
We found a shop and asked for the herb basil. She said she had some in the garden and sent out a boy who returned with an enormous bunch wrapped up in newspaper, for which she charged a single euro. Fantastic. One of the things I love about sailing is that no matter where you are you always end up in the local shops and not the tourist shops. I do believe that sailing lets you see more of what a country is really like, than you perhaps see as a conventional tourist.
We found a nice restaurant and had dinner there, sampling some of the rare wine unique to this island. The other thing the island is famous for is capers and we enjoyed some of these in the dishes we were served. A really good meal and happy experience.
RETURN TO VULCANO
Well, on the long way back now. No wind again and we motored down the west side of Lipari and past a couple of interesting sea stacks. We found a really good anchorage on the SW tip called Spiaggia di Vinci. I anchored here and we spent a lazy day in the sun. Excellent lunch and there was much swimming and lazing around. The cliffs formed an arc here with a beach and I believe that the only approach to that beach could be from sea. Some enterprising guy had set up a stall on the beach and Marion and Tim swam ashore for a while. Near us was a cat with loads of small Italian children making a huge happy noise. On the other side was a yacht with three couples of stark naked Russians. Why so many of them here?
A splendid place. I considered anchoring here for the night, but I needed to fuel up before returning to Sant Agata, so needed to move. We motored round to Lipari and went into the AGIP fuel berth which is the only place in these islands you can get fuel. I bought 90 litres for the main tank and the gerry cans. Then we went ashore to buy fresh provisions. Marion and me bought a thick slice from a swordfish being sold by a young man on a market stall.
We returned to our first night anchorage at Porto di Ponente on Vulcano and anchored in the same position. Took two attempts to get the anchor to hold, but had a quiet night and an excellent dinner of fresh swordfish.
BACK TO MAINLAND SICILY
Flat calm again and no wind. We set off at 0950 and motored down the East side of Vulcano for a look at the facinating landscape, fresh from lava flows not that long ago in historical time. The gullies and slopes were very green. There was a surprising little bay opening out at the south of the island with an interesting and secluded black sand beach which I wish I'd known about earlier. We passed close to the old lighthouse at the south of Vulcano and set course for Sant Agata. By lunchtime we were off Capo Orlando and by 1500 hrs I motored in to Sant Agata and placed her astern on the pontoon.
I explained about the boathook, the bathing platform (since recognised as a design fault by Bavaria) and finally the windlass lug which I said just came off in our hands. Poor casting I said. There were other faults, but these were to do with the boat itself.
We went to the restaurant we went to on the first night and had a truly excellent meal. All happy. An excellent week, although the sailing could have been better. The following morning we had trouble with the Sicilian railway system, but eventually we got to Palermo and had a good afternoon seeing some of the sights before heading for the Aeroporto and home to a Yorkshire Autumn!
No comments:
Post a Comment