Category: Ports of Call (Page 17 of 39)

We made to the mainland (?) of Sicily! Trapani is our first stop as we visit the north shore of the island. We did the usual dance of trying to find a place to tie up the dinghy and leave our trash, and then headed off to the Guardia Coasteria to get our consituto stamped. The comedy of errors this time was caused by us. In an effort to lighten our load, especially in the heat, Trip didn’t bring the entire boat binder and instead only brought the boat documentation and constituto (which was all that was asked for before). This Coast Guard also needed the boat insurance papers and our passports, but was kind enough to allow us to come back the next day with all the paperwork. (Which turned out to be a bit of a mistake, and round two at the Coast Guard included almost no English being spoken and lots of waiting while they discussed who knows what).

Town was an interesting mix of formal churches dropped here and there, old walls from the moorish reign, and lots of fun restaurants and bars.

We stopped at a bar by the beach and had fun sipping artisanal beer and listening to old classic Italian songs, including Tu Vuo Fa L’Americano, sampled over and over again (Talented Mr Ripley, Brian Setzer Orchestra, and even Pitbull). We tried to buy a tshirt from the bar, but they only had smalls (Trip’s tshirts are finally succumbing to the heat and sweat and salt and UV rays), so he treated himself to a bottle of nice sipping rum instead. We came upon another wedding photo session with a car (yup, Saturday), but this one wasn’t as charming as the one in Sardinia.

Of course we’re in Sicily – land of the Testa di Moro myth – and the porcelain heads are everywhere, and very recognizable thanks to season 2 of The White Lotus. They’re quite ugly in my opinion, but who knows – I may have to pick one up after all.

Dinner was at a small place on the waterfront by the marinas. Trip had pasta with pesto alla trapanese – pesto very loosely chopped with almonds (instead of pine nuts) and tomatoes. I had the famous couscous with seafood – topped with shrimp, squid, and other mysterious chopped and fried bits. The wine here is very peppery (I miss the smoothness of the cannounou grapes in Sardinia), but we enjoyed dinner immensely.

The Egadi Islands weren’t a planned stop, Schengen time was ticking, and we needed to move on. It was 20 miles to Trapani on the mainland, easy enough in a few hours. Trip had wondered aloud about stopping in other islands along the way, but I said it wasn’t worth it. I looked up the port of Favignana in a cruising app on the tablet as we were passing it to prove my point. Except the reviews were – awesome. Charming little town, anchorage right in the middle of everything, great place to be. Damnit! Trip didn’t need asking twice when I told him to bear to starboard.

We managed to snag the last best spot in the anchorage. You can’t anchor too far out as the ferries need room to turn and one in particular has to drop an anchor to moor (I was VERY anxious watching him drop his anchor not far from us, but it all worked out as winds were light). But my absolute favorite ferries to watch were the hydrofoil hi-speed ferries. Every skipper had a different technique for coming in and out of the harbor, but my favorite skipper would spin the boat on a dime at high speed with his twin jet engines (this from someone who travels on a boat at 5 knots most days). It was so fun to watch; that and all the other boats coming in and jostling for position at the docks. Italians do not have much of a concept of personal space and it’s amazing to watch them move.

We raced across the harbor and found a questionable place to leave the dinghy (Italy and the neverending search for a dinghy dock). No one spoke English, but I was able to confirm in French that we should be ok. Then we raced across town (10 minute walk) to the tuna museum that we had read about….only to find that it closed as we arrived (Google maps said it was open for another hour). We consoled ourselves with a drink and some bruschetta on the beach with live music watching the sun set.

We wandered back through town, amazed at how big it was (then again anything is big compared to Maritemmo where we just were). An impressive number of restaurants and bars. A cat sprawled in front of a little fast food restaurant helped us pick. I had a huge tuna sandwich for dinner and Trip a sausage sandwich. I slipped scraps to the cat periodically (he was not impressed with the lettuce Trip tried feeding him).

We wandered a bit more after dinner and then stopped for the requisite ice cream and coffee. Trip looked over at the ‘sundae’ that a gentleman was eating and asked what it was. Neither of us understood what he was saying, but he definitely indicated that it was wonderful. When the waiter came out, that gentleman ordered for us. It turns out it was scoops of vanilla and hazelnut ice cream over brioche bread soaked in rum. I do not understand why the Italians love their ice cream with brioche (you can get it as an ice cream sandwich too), but I’m not complaining.

We agreed that we would not leave immediately the next day and instead came back to town for the tuna museum, which was absolutely worth the visit. The moors taught the local Egadi fisherman a very complicated technique and system of nets to funnel and trap multiple tuna. We watched videos from the 1920’s of the process of rowing out, dropping nets, hauling them back up, hauling the tuna, and later processing and canning the fish. It was a gruesome process, but probably employed the entire island and I’m glad the museum is there to remember the history.

The other part of the museum was dedicated to Egadi’s history, and included artifacts that have been found on the seabed. The most remarkable of those are multiple bronze ramming tips from Roman galleys that sailed the waters 3rd century BC. Along with the rams, we watched videos showing offensive and defensive maneuvers that ships would use in battle. These islands were the scene of the battle between the Romans and the Carthaginians ending the first Punic War with the Romans on the winning side (the Romans won Sicily).

I had never heard of the Egadi islands, but a couple we met in Villasimius on another American flagged boat said it’s a great stop on the way to Trapani. So we did, and what a treasure! Our timing was so good we managed to snag the last mooring available in Cala Mangione early afternoon. I passed out for a couple hours while Trip paid the park officials for the mooring (€31.50 is the most random amount for a daily charge, no?)

The water is the deepest blue we’ve ever experienced. The swimming off the boat is heavenly, as well as necessary, as the heat wave only feels like it is growing and the air and sun are absolutely oppressive mid afternoon to early evening. There’s plenty of small tour boats, but not nearly as many as what we saw in the Madalenna Islands, and they all disappear late afternoon as usual.

We realize we can see ‘town’ from where we are and decide to take the dinghy to go explore for dinner. We approach a small rocky beach inside a fisherman’s harbor. A man immediately comes up to help us land the dinghy. Trip goes off and asks someone if it’s ok to leave the dinghy (Italy is not good about providing dinghy docks), and he says yes and then proceeds to help us pull it all the way up the beach (Italian men are pretty old school and somewhat chauvinistic but I’m not going to complain in some circumstances).

Town is absolutely charming. Two minutes and you’ve walked through the entire place. It’s obviously touristy, but in a very laid back way. We wander out to the main harbor where there is a movie festival going on. They’re doing a Q&A with a film cast, but we understand no Italian so we wander over to a bar for drinks. During happy hour, bars may charge a little more for drinks, but you get snacks as well. Our beers included bruschetta with scraps of smoked fish – it must cost the bar owner almost nothing but was so incredibly tasty and wasted nothing of the fish!

I was disappointed to find that we couldn’t get into the slow food restaurant for dinner (all of 4 tables), but we find a local place with good beer, octopus salad, caponata, and red shrimp pasta. We wander back to the waterfront for coffee and pistachio ice cream (a Sicilian specialty), where we chat with the bar manager, who lives in North Carolina when he’s not in Italy helping his family for the summer season.

Back at the anchorage we sit and enjoy the star studded sky with a final drink. Out of the blue we heard crazy “wacka-wacka” sounds. I look at my watch – 10 pm. Sure enough, it’s Cory’s Shearwaters, returning from the sea to their nests. Though not as numerous at the groups we heard in the Azores, the sound of the birds is unmistakeable and we listen contentedly before heading off to bed.

The next day we got up early and we headed to shore to walk up to the Castello de Ponta Troia. With the heat and the sun, we’re making the 20 minute climb at 8 am and I’ve already got sweat pouring off my face and neck. The castle was built in 827 to guard over the town, and the huge cistern was used centuries later as a prison (guesome but effective). The view of the anchorage and island in general is stunning from that height.

After coming down, Trip rows while I paddle to the Grotto del Camello. Monk seals (an endangered species) are known to winter here. It’s still early and no one else is around, so we have it all to ourselves. The cave is enormous, and makes the most eery noises as the water hits the rock and echos around. Sunlight pours through a hole in the top of the rocks and highlights that crystalline blue water. Bliss.

Spinnakers are light weather sails that are very expensive and don’t get used all that often. Ours has paid for itself multiple times over this season and the run from Sardinia to Sicily was no different. Five boats had left Villasimius more or less at the same time, and four of us were flying spinnakers at one point or another. It was a beautiful sight to see!

The overnight sail turned out to be one of the best of the season with flat seas and good solid steady wind from the right direction. There was only a sliver of a moon, which meant we had a star-studded night. There was lots of chatter on the radio – one funny voice we had heard a few times now calling out in a whisper: “Mario, I cannot see you but I can smell you!” It was definitely worth a giggle when he came on. A more serious radio experience was that of the authorities asking for boat name and numbers on board. We later learned that it was the Coast Guard near Lampedusa Island, the closest point of landing from Africa, and migrants were attempting to come in. We only heard part of the broadcast, but a fellow cruiser later said that people had already jumped out of the boat and into the water trying to make it to land. It’s a sobering reminder of the desperation that others are facing today.

The east coast of Sardinia continued to deny us a comfortable anchorage. The swell had reduced greatly, so we decided to anchor at Cala Foxxi Manna, and were pleased to see one other boat already anchored there when we arrived (a possible indication that it wasn’t too rolly). Another boat joined us soon after, and unfortunately all three of us bucked and rolled all night long. Our boat is heavy and normally this would not be a problem, but I think I’ve gotten spoiled this season with calm anchorages, so neither of us got a good night sleep and both were ready to move a early the next day. The spinnaker run we were able to do at least made up for the bad night’s rest. It was finally beautiful sailing again!

We dropped anchor around the southeast corner of Sardinia, in the huge Golfo di Carbonara. A lovely big bay with lots of room for boats in crystal clear water. This was our last stop in Sardinia, and it was time to rest for a couple of days before heading off to Sicily. The Italian Coast Guard came by while we were organizing ourselves, and Trip went below to get our boat paperwork while I started taking lines so they could tie off to us, Suddenly the skipper indicated there was no reason to tie off, I handed back the line, and they were gone just like that. I joked to Trip that it might have been that they checked by radio and confirmed that our paperwork was in order, or they might have gotten scared of the fact that I wasn’t wearing a bra, only a tank top that showed off my sagging ‘assets’ to all…..

We got a lot done while we were there. We provisioned and did a couple of loads of laundry (with the best smelling laundry detergent to date!). For a change of scene we went to a beach and hung out with the locals, which was great for people watching. The walk back from that beach included a boardwalk out over a brackish pond where flamingoes live (much too far to get a photo, so you have to take my word for it that we saw them).

We also did everything imaginable to stay cool. Europe is once again in the midst of a massive heat wave (named Cerberus after the three-headed mythical dog) and we were in the hot zone – literally. Cagliari, just west of us, would hit a record of 115 F (45.9 C)! Swimming was a must, with nearly everyone around us in the water multiple times a day. Unfortunately it was during one of those swims that Trip was checking the anchor and found that our chain had dropped in between two rocks and wrapped around others, He got out of the scuba tank and went down to work on the situation. We then upped anchor and reset so that when we finally needed to leave we wouldn’t have an emergency.

Our final night we walked into the beach town of Villasimius. While having cocktails I managed to stain my white linen pants. I asked the waiter for some water, and in perfect Italian fashion he instead brought a special stain remover spray and sponge – I would expect nothing less! We did dinner at a local street food place with great kebabs and upside down salads (meat on the bottom, arugula and Parmesan on top). We had time for a final round of provisioning (one last bottle of mirto – they won’t have this in Sicily!), and splurged on a cab ride home to the bay.

My dreams of exploring the Gulf of Orosei were dashed by the weather – the combination of an easterly wind, an easterly swell, and no land protection would make this anchorage untenable, so we had to push on. Several miles south, I had Arbatax listed on the chart as having good protection from both swell and wind from the east/south, so we decided to rest there for the night. Unfortunately the winds shifted to the northeast and we were forced to drop anchor in the messiest chop (along with 12 other boats that read the weather wrong). Fortunately the weather lay down within a couple of hours and we got a decent rest that night. The reviews of Arbatax are not kind, but we decided to head ashore for the morning anyway.

We found the Coast Guard station right away and had them stamp our constituto. These papers, which are only required for non EU-flagged vessels, always seem to confound the authorities. We are supposed to get them stamped whenever we are in a harbor where there is a Coast Guard presence. However, we hadn’t had ours stamped in weeks. The islands didn’t have a Coast Guard, and towns that did usually had no office open. Luckily these officials didn’t think it strange that we hadn’t gotten a stamp recently and happily stamped it for us. Then they argued amongst themselves about whether or not the next port even had a Coast Guard. It was all done in a good natured way, so we weren’t too worried.

We walked along the red rocks that line the edges of the harbor, stopped at a supermarket stand to stock up on provisions, and treated ourselves to lunch at a local butcher/chop house. I savored a local Sardinian red wine along with a local Sardinian steak (that only cost $20!) and the creamiest roast potatoes. The reviews of Arbatax might not be generous, but we were thrilled with the small town and would definitely come back.

The famous island of Tavolera was not in the cards for us or even the mega yachts with the wind and swell plowing in from the south east. However, we were lucky enough to drop anchor with a spectacular view of the island (along with all those mega yachts). Cala Girgolu, as it turns out, is rather like the Baths in the British Virgin Islands. The coast is littered with stunning rock formations that are only accessible by boat, swimming, or a long, hot, sweaty hike. (Trip rowed, I paddle boarded).

We had seen ice cream boats in other anchorages, but now we discovered the Bar Boat! A wave of the hand was enough to get their attention, and soon enough Trip was enjoying ice cream while I had a lemonade & Mirto slushee (of course with Mirto made by one of the boat owners).

I had a flash of realization while in this anchorage…..in all the cruising we had been doing in the islands, we had seen no private docks (marinas excluded). The waterfront is considered a protected public space. If there is a beach, motorized boats of any sort aren’t allowed at all unless there is a ‘dinghy lane’. Even anchoring must be done 300 feet from the beach, allowing swimmers and others a safe place to enjoy themselves. A refreshing change from the US, where there seems to be a constant battle between public and private access to the waterfront.

We opted to take the train to Olbia, since we were happy with the Aranci anchorage. We were late getting ashore and even later walking in the heat to the train station, so we were pleasantly surprised to find a conductor who helped us make sure we got the right tickets from the automated machine just minutes before the train left.

We had really wanted to go to the archeological museum, but of course it was Monday and it was closed. We settled for culurgiones for lunch at a local restaurant.

It was brutally hot (the beginning of the Cerberus heat wave in Europe, because all weather phenomenon are now being named). I wasn’t in the mood to walk much, but we did make it to the Basilica of San Simplico. Unlike the ornate churches and cathedrals that we had seen in Europe to date, this church (built in the 11th century) is incredibly simple in its construction, but beautiful in its own right. Unfortunately the necropolis below was closed (Monday), so we made do with the church before heading back.

We sailed past the Costa Smerelda (the Emerald Coast), where all the celebrities and wealthy keep their fabulous McMansions and mega yachts.

We tucked around the corner into the Golfo Aranci (Gulf of Oranges). It boasted an underwater modern art museum that was a bit underwhelming, but fun to visit by dinghy and snorkel for an afternoon.

One of the best parts of this anchorage were the dolphins that came to visit around sunset. So many people were ashore having dinner, and dolphins were casually swimming around all our boats. I don’t care how common dolphins are, I will never be tired of them.

As we were coming ashore one day, I managed to catch a photo of a mermaid statue in the harbor. When we came back to the dinghy at the end of the day, the statue was gone! After some careful googling, we learned that it rises from the sea twice a day to show herself, and we were lucky to be there at one of those times. A wonderful and unique greeting to locals, fishermen, and tourists.

I love the islands, but we needed to to laundry and we needed some provisions! It was off to Canningione on the mainland of Sardinia for both (I know – Sardinia is an island too, but I was referring to the numerous little islands off the Sardinian coast – it is eye opening to find how many of these little islands there are). I set out to do the laundry while Trip went to try to register us with the local Costeria Guardia (who are never in the office). I got three big loads done, Trip found a great chandlery, and the grocery store was close to the dinghy dock – score! We treated ourselves to a charcuterie plate and some wine at a local enoteca. Italy laws may drive you crazy (registering the boat everywhere we go, trying to dispose of trash, etc), but the food really does make up for it.

We were in town for a couple of days waiting for the winds to change so we could start our trip south. Saturday afternoon we were lucky enough to get front row seats to a Sardinian wedding when we had lunch at a cafe in the main square across from the local church. Sigh…..the fashion….men with no socks and beautiful leather shoes…..women in colors we never wear in the US. It was so fun to ogle.