We needed supplies, and so we made an early start and motored from our anchorage on Caprera back to Palau. While there were a number of boats anchored off, there was sufficient room for one or two more. The next door boat was a small cruiser called Wren, British flagged, but flying a Breton flag from the left spreader. As we started to go ashore, we hailed the chap to find out the best place to land. The boat was his wife's, apparently, and he was French, and lived in Benodet. He was pleased to discover we knew it, and we offered him a tow in to the marina where he showed us where to leave the dinghy without causing offence. It was extremely hot in town, and John was not feeling too good again with very low blood pressure. We needed cash first, and eventually found am ATM that refused to part with more than 250€. The information office directed us towards a bar that sold mobile top up cards: the opportunity to sit down and have a drink was more than welcome. Cold air was streaming down and condensing over the bushes around the open verandah, producing a small but welcome change in the climate inside. Having paid for the drink, we were directed to the tobacconist counter who sold us the top up card, 45€ of airtime and 5€ recharge cost. We walked around the market and picked up some fruit and salad stuff, then queued in the small supermarket for some bread. We heard from David that Kealoha was now going to pick them up at Alghero, so we seem to be in the wrong place for meeting up. When we got back to the boat, a fresh NW breeze had come up, making the anchorage less than comfortable, so after lunch we sailed back under jib, with Willie still hanging in the rigging. This time we made for a spot up the Rada di Stefano, past the NATO base, near the causeway off Caprera.
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| Vast, rounded rocks are typical of Sardinia |
According to the pilot, Garibaldi is buried just across the causeway from La Madalena. It seemed a good idea to go ashore and have a look, although it occured to us we knew nothing about the man. We rowed the dinghy ashore to a beach, and anchored it just off. We then set off inshore. We knew there was a track, as we had seen a scooter and a car come down, but the scrub proved very difficult to get through, and we eventually had to return to the shore and walk along to where we knew the track was. We reached the metalled road over the bridge, and found the signpost directing us to the Garibaldi museum 2km up the road. The message was confused by another suggesting that there was 'Agrotourism' Garibaldi 500m up another road, where also there was a Club Med establishment. Our little expedition was ill founded, however, as we had brought no money, nor any drinking water, so had to turn back without achieving our objective. The wind had come up again fresh NW, and we decided to go somewhere more comfortable for the night. Again we were able to make reasonable progress with the jib, leaving our wind generator still rigged. We anchored in the comparative shelter of Golfo Saline, where there was a lot of dinghy activity, and a couple of very large motor yachts, along with a number of cruising yachts. There was however plenty of room for everyone.
We spent the day for the most part lazily reading with the occasional dip in the sea to cool off, breaking off to watch the dinghies or motor yachts about their business. We had rigged the sun awning to make life a little more comfortable. On the previous day, we had dried out the bottom of the boat once again, retrieving a bucketful from the section aft of the engine bed, and smaller quantities elsewhere. Today we discovered it had returned! There was a discernable weep appearing from the starboard aft quarter. John had tried tasting the water, which simply tasted foul with all the traces of dust, oil and other dirt, but it was not conclusively sea water. The calorifier and associated plumbing first came under suspicion. We had not been back in the cockpit locker since the trouble with the pumps, so decided to check it out. Having emptied most of the containers out, John detected a weep coming from a non-return valve that he had fitted earlier in the season in the hot supply to the cockpit shower, to prevent the cold backfeeding from it. This had appeared to be good value at just under 4€! We placed a beaker under it, dried out the puddle in the bilge, and went to bed.
The offending non return valve was removed, taken to pieces, and re-assembled with copious silicone glue. The thin flanges between which the gasket/flapper valve was clamped had become distorted, and thus the thing leaked. There was some doubt that the flapper valve was effective, too. Once everything had been replaced, and once more dried out, we had breakfast and were considering our next move. Mo heard the water pump run, not once, but twice, so back into the locker, met by a cloud of steam arising from where the valve was now spurting water onto the hot compresser of the freezer unit. Fortunately the spares locker yielded a connector to replace the non return valve: we will have to put up with diluted hot water in the system. After lunch we decided to make a move. The wind had turned easterly and was now reaching us in the open bay. Although rather late in the day, we decided to make for Golfo Aranci, just south of Capo Figari, that had been recommended to us by Jarrod, Kealoha's skipper. We motored the first leg up wind, then raised the main. Everywhere, in every bay, there seemed to be large motor yachts. Around Cap Ferro, there is Porto de Cervo, and we could not resist going in to have a look. The entrance was a bit confusing, as an enormous motor yacht was obsuring our view. There was room in the anchorage, although as we left a large British ketch hit the shoal patch advertised in the pilot, and was lifted a foot or so out of the water. Our last view was of efforts by the nearby motor yacht to fend it off. We finally settled on Golfo Cugnana, as the wind was now in the SE, and anchored just south of the marina at Portisco.
The shelter inside the Golfo Cugnana was pretty good, and we shared it with a few other yachts, two large sailing yachts and a couple of large motor yachts as well as some ordinary mortals like us. It was unfortunately a good water skiing and jet ski ground, being sheltered and fairly shallow, so initially we enjoyed their company too. The following morning we set off for Olbia, straight forward enough, but in the absence of contemporaneous notes in the log and the intervening alchoholic fog, there is not much to tell you about it. The route passes the impressive and vertiginous Capo Figari, which we negotiated quite close in as it is clean to. Reference to the log trail on Winchart, which unfortunately you cannot actually interrogate, indicates that we made sail soon after passing Punta Ta del Carigione, with a light northerly breeze. We had made a pass at Porto Rotondo to see if we could pick up any free wifi: a passing motor yacht had a wifi access point, but unfortunately it was secured! We then made for a delightful anchorage behind the Isola di Porri, narrowly avoiding grounding on the reef off the island which seemed more extensive than indicated on the chart. The clue was that we were about to pass inside a snorkeller tethered to a red marker buoy. We anchored happily, and were soon cooling off in the clear water before lunch. Our journey up the narrow channel to Olbia between the mussel beds was uneventful enough, as we followed a large ferry, and then made for the old commercial quay. An Argentinian gentleman, crew on a beautiful 'classic' wooden sailing yacht took our lines preventing the embarassment of trying to scramble ashore. As the pilot says, there are few attachment points, and a certain amount of improvisation was required. No readily accessible water and no electricity. We had come to Olbia for supplies, so off to the Supermarket we did go. We were there to take the lines from Aquatint who had seen us in the anchorage at Isola di Porri. John and Carol Boulter proved to be great fun and a mine of useful information, and authorities on free berthing! A further run to the cashpoint, chandlery for gaz (18€), and then on to the Supermarket. We had unfortunately been on board when a uniformed gent from the port authorities had arrived with a form to fill in for permission to moor up, accompanied by a man from the refuse disposal company that the former said we were obliged to use at a cost of 8€. He explained that we had to purchase a 'Marco da Bollo' (official stamps) to the value 14.62€ at a Tabacchi, then deliver the form to the Port Office which he indicated vaguely with his hand. While Mo was at the Supermarket, John was dispatched to execute his instructions. It transpired that not every Tabacchi could supply a Marca di Bollo, and normal postcard/souvenir type shops all indicated that he should go 'next door' (up the hill), stopping in each one until eventually the right Tabacchi was encountered. It was then a question of getting to the port office. The pilot book (Heikel, 2002) states that the whole of the front is under development. It still is. There is a walkway with crossings from the quay towards the town across the two lanes of fast, heavy traffic between building site fencing. There is much rubble and some evidence of equipment movement, but not much more. John had looked at the pilot and thought he knew where he was going, but found that there was no way through the works from the direction he was approaching, and so he had to return sweating profusely to the road. There is a grand new round building on the I. Luchesa, and he passed this on the way round to the office. At the office, the place was in the process of being taken apart inside, and a notice announced that the port office was now moved to the 'palazzo'. Assuming this was the grand new building, John retraced his steps only to find that the new building was actually closed up, and not in use. Luckily the chap John had asked inside the old port office had said something about pink, for as John returned once more to the port office he noticed that the building opposite, though no palace, was painted pink. There were no notices at all until you came around the side, where there was a temporary laminated notice indicating simply 'uffici' at the back of the building. Given the heat of the day, John was relieved to find a girl with van in the car park, selling watermelons. Taking the price to be just less than one euro, John tasted and bought one, and also another type of melon. He could barely carry the thing back to the boat, as it threatened to burst its bag: total cost (per kilo) just over 10€! Back to the Supermarket, to collect Mo waiting with granny trolley and heavily loaded haversack plus bags, we were relieved to be back on the boat but still lacked a sensible quantity of wine. So after lunch we set off to explore the town and find a Lidl or similar establishment where we could re-stock our cellar. We were sitting, exhausted and thirsty, waiting for a coca cola in a bar when John and Carol happened by. The bar was by a central cross roads, and we were watching for what we assumed would be the inevitable accident, as everyone seemed to want to turn on what was also a railway level crossing. Eventually the coke arrived, accompanied by two rounds of ham and cheese toast. John had asked for 'dos' cokes, rather than 'due', as he is now very confused between Portugese, Spanish and Italian, with unwanted toast the inevitable result. At this point we abandoned our intended departure, and reconciled ourselves to another night in Olbia, and so we were able to join John and Carol on Aquatint for a drink after supper. Having failed to re-stock our cellar the previous afternoon, we decided to make one more run on the supermarket as soon after they opened at 0830 as we could. Still the 'offers' had not been re-stocked, and so we had to pick up what we could. After this we were soon away and by 0945 were making our way down the channel, and then inside Isola Tavolara. We motored in the light ESE wind until we were clear of Capo Coda Cavallo, when we could almost fetch our course and so we were able to sail. Around 1500, Steve from Double Bill who had landed at Olbia that morning, phoned to enquire where we were, and we were able to say that we were just one mile off ENE from La Caletta. We berthed on the Club Nautico pontoon, and were soon on Double Bill catching up with Steve and Carol on our respective experiences, and later enjoying dinner on Fuga. We needed water both to fill up and also to tackle the mountain of laundry that Mo had conjured up. Mo emptied and defrosted the freezer and later the fridge as well, so that they could be re-frozen while connected to shore power. John managed to keep cool and wash the cockpit at the same time by assisting Mo with the rinsing of the washing, and later we were able to give the decks a bit of a wash down. We had been spending the day thus happily employed when John and Carol on Aquatint arrived and moored on the outside quay, which is free having no water or electricity. It would not be much fun in a southerly as it is immediately inside opposite the unprotected entrance. The mooring fee for Fuga was 40€, which was not bad. John had asked for 'due' nights, but in view of his (in)ability to make himself understood, it is believed that this only covered one of the nights. Having introduced John and Carol to 'Bill' of Double Bill, Steve kindly forgave John and invited Aquatint to join us all on Double Bill for supper. We decided we ought to go and look at the town, and found our way there and into one of the supermarkets. This seemed to have a good range of stuff, but Steve and Carol reckoned that the other (SISA) offered better value for wine. We accordingly visited both, and agreed. On our return from Double Bill the previous evening we noticed that there was a missed call from David Holliday. The voice message he left indicated that he would be coming south towards Isola Tavolara, so there was a possibility of meeting up after all. As we said our goodbyes to Steve, John and the two Carols, who were swapping notes on Sicily where they were both headed, there was hardly a breath of wind. What there was was coming from the NE, inevitably, so we tacked out to sea. This then died, and soon swung round and started to fill in from the NW, so that the effect of our initial tack had simply been to put ourselves further down wind! Gradually it built up, and we soon had one reef in, rolled jib, and then our second reef, with gusts to 33 knots across the deck. Kealoha (K8) announced her arrival at Porto Brandinchi at around 1530, but it was some time before we had managed to fight our way sailing and motor sailing as we saw fit, to drop anchor nearby. We enjoyed a very pleasant evening catching up with our friends on board, feasted on Floss and Jarrod's fine cooking (if the flames from the BBQ can be so called), and retired to Fuga at 0100 hours well fed and lubricated. On getting up the next morning, K8 had vanished, but was soon located across the bay anchored off the beach. We got under way a little before them, so they followed us out as we beat into a gentle NE wind. This gave us an opportunity to video and photograph her as she came past, and once past Capo Coda Cavallo, close reaching down the channel. We both anchored amongst large motor yachts and others off the beach at SW end of Isola Tavolara, a popular and great looking beach. We set off again after lunch, motor sailing into a gentle NE. This soon petered out, shortly after K8 had come past and we had crossed the shipping lanes into Olbia. By the time K8 had reached Cabo Figari, it had filled in as it had the day before, from the NW. This time it was a little steadier, and not quite as strong, so we enjoyed beating into the Golfo Cugnana towards Porto Rotondo. As it was proposed to eat out that evening, we anchored off in a small bay close to the marina, while K8 had gone into refuel and remained on the fuelling berth for the evening. We started with cocktails, and then moved to a Pizza/Restaurant, finally having coffee at another bar. When we came to return to Fuga, we found ourselves motoring the dinghy into white water and were saturated by the time we reached the boat at 0200 hours. Tuesday 25th July, Golfo Cugnana to Olbia
Wednesday 26th July, Olbia
Thursday 27th July, Olbia to La Caletta
Friday 28th July, La Caletta
Saturday 29th July, La Caletta to Porto Brandinchi
Sunday 30th July, Porto Brandinchi to Golfo Cugnana, outside Porto Rotondo
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| K8 catches up... | ...and overtakes us... |
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| ...on the way to lunch... | ...at Isola Tavolara |
John downloaded the photographs off the camera, and then the video, which after some minor editing was burnt onto CDs for K8. We became fed up with the continual wash of passing traffic in the anchorage off Rotondo, and moved across inshore of where K8 was now lying. They were busy packing and clearing ship, so we returned to Fuga for a while, until shortly before the taxi was due, when we went into Marina Portisco to see them off. John later spotted Mirabelle anchoring in the bay next door to us, so set off to take some photographs. It was good to have Floss and Jarrod on board in the evening and to be able to return some of their hard work and hospitality with a traditional Spag Bol and beer or two.