We finally left Cagliari after a delay of one day because of an un-forecast Mistrale that appeared despite the lack of isobars, etc. The best information we had was that we could look to a F5 WNW, but as we left Cagliari it did not look like it, rather a lighter version of the previous days NW wind. However, when we reached Pula the wind disappeared, but left a peculiar following chop that slapped Fuga in the backside, and sent water into the cockpit, so we decided to motor out of it. Once clear of the headland, however, the wind filled in and we were soon trouncing along at between 7 and 8 knots, with the forecast F5 WNW. At first we could not fetch the required course with a comfortable angle off the following wind, but later the wind wore round a bit and we could back off onto 160. We soon decided to fully reef the main (we only have two reefing points) and reduce the jib, but the boat speed barely altered. It was quite cold. We had an improvised lunch and tried to take turns resting. Supper was Mo's pre-prepared Chilli dinner on cook in the bag rice, which John could manage to heat up.
We saw only a ferry crossing behind until we got closer to the Tunisian coast where there is a separation scheme. We had been running on the plotter to conserve power which had become a problem, when we encountered a west-going vessel on a collision course. Without the benefit of AIS through the computer, we could only try to call him up, but he pressed on regardless of white lights, etc. It was too close to call, so we had to turn Fuga around through the wind, and come back around his stern on the opposite gybe, before repeating the exercise to get back on course. Having got back on course, we logged his details having failed to get him to respond to the VHF. Later there was another encounter from the same quarter, but by this time the AIS was on the blink and I had no i.d.! This time I suspect he may just have gone clear ahead, but the radar packed up due to fading batteries in the final couple of miles of the approach. With west-going vessels at 12-15 knots and Fuga south-east going at 7 knots, there was little time. I was able to resolve this particular encounter by running off further down wind, as the wind had backed a bit, but once again no sign of any movement. They were not large vessels, and we had our active radar transponder running, so they would have been able to see us in the excellent visibility, if they were not asleep. It was in the early hours of the morning. I cannot remember the last time a merchant vessel had the courtesy to take appropriate action, was it back in the 70's?
The rest of the passage passed quickly, but the autohelm became unable to deal with the seas which increased in height as we approached the shallower water, and we had to steer as well as navigate into an unfamiliar harbour: our arrival being at least a couple of hours earlier than planned and in the dark.
We were welcomed onto the pontoon by a couple of guys, who managed to extract a bottle of scotch in addition to the cigarettes we offered. They summoned the police and customs, who came and went bringing forms to be filled in. There must have been a shift change, because when they eventually returned it was three chaps, carrying guns and an empty briefcase. Fools and their whisky are easily parted, particularly honest fools who try to declare what they have on board, and the briefcase went away bulging.
Later that afternoon we found the energy to have a good walk around Bizerte, but we failed to find most things of importance. Back on board, we caught up with a German couple on the boat opposite, who gave us a map and indicated where to find a bank: we had no Tunisian currency.
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We left early, for us at any rate, and so had to motor for a while until the wind filled in. We had a pleasant sail arriving at Sidi Bou Said in the middle of the afternoon. There we encountered more entrepreneurial spirit in the form of the Capitaine, who wanted to sell us a trip out in with a car for the day. He tried to tie us in with another German couple, Peter and Karin, who happened to be checking in at the same time. After we had managed to extract ourselves, we visited Peter and Karin on thier Halberg 42, and enjoyed a drink with them. We decided that the car was too expensive and too soon, and so agreed to turn the proposition down, while accepting the refill of Camping Gaz!
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When we left the house, we explored the terraced garden, before making our way towards a market held in a nearby car park. As we walked through the market, being pestered to 'look and see' as usual, we came into the main street of the old village, and Mo recognised it as the village she had visited on holiday here in 1996, as part of a coach tour from her hotel. The village is decorated largely in contrasting blue and white, featuring the attractive doors that are traditional in Tunisia.
We had spotted the railway station in the village, so walked down there. The railway runs to Tunis, and passes through Carthage nearby, where there are the remains of the old Carthaginian/Roman settlement. We bought tickets for the train, but having not done our research we were unsure where to get off. You need 'Hannibal'. In the event, we were one station too early, and had to walk past the well-guarded Presidential Palace compound, before finally arriving at the 'ruins'. The first location we came across was by no means the most impressive, but we paid our entrance which is a composite ticket - 7 dinars - to all 8 sites! We paid a further dinar to be allowed to take photographs, and were then promptly engaged by a guide. It was probably as well, as he was able to tell us a bit about the site, and alerted us to the others, including the museum. A good leaflet from tourist information, with a reasonable map, as obtained by Peter and Karin from the tourist information office in Tunis, is an essential pre-requisite. We covered some miles trying to locate one of the sites using the map on the back of our admission ticket, and missed the museum to which our day pass also entitled us. The Roman baths (mind blowing in their scale) were most impressive, and we saw the old Phoenician port, but missed two of the most important sites. We were glad to be able to hail a taxi to take us back to the marina. Well worth being better organised, and starting early in the day so that you can take it all in.
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JW investigated the generator, that failed on the way over to Bizerte. He found the fuses gone, and suspected that the fuel solenoid valve had failed. Having done so, he fired off an e-mail to Mastervolt to ask their advice.
We paid our dues, and extricated ourselves from Customs, a long and tedious process, so that we eventually slipped at 1045, and went to the fuel berth. Tunisian diesel is very well priced, and we filled all our reserve cans with the treacle-coloured stuff. The winds were light and variable, mainly from the ENE, so we were headed from time to time and had to work our way out of the Gulf of Tunis. Despite the light winds, we managed to sail for much of the way, motoring only for 6.5 hours, covering the 132 miles to Levanzo in 28 hours. Afte the long winter, it was a delight to be anchored once more by ourselves in a pretty cove. Having rested up, we eventually launched the dinghy and went around to the only village. We found a shop where we could buy fruit and veg, so topped up on supplies. There were a couple of bars but they were not doing any business, so we decided to return to the boat for drinks. The island, although small, is served by numerous ferries, and has clearly had a lot of money invested in making good the terraced pavements. The only visitor attraction, apart from solitude to walk in and a small beach appeared to be a Genoese cave. The largest of the Egandi islands, as these are known, is Favignana, further to the south. This looks very attractive, sports a castle on one of the highest peaks, and has a number of settlements on it. There are a number of anchorages, whereas on Levanzo only the southern coves appear to be available.
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We took the following day as a rest day, and JW decided to have a go at re-fitting the original alternator, in order to commission with some certainty the Sterling charge regulator. This was now desperately needed because of the generator failure. We bought the regulator in the UK in 2004, but sailed without fitting it due to lack of time. When we did try to fit it, in Bilbao, we found the alternator covered in metallic grey paint and could not loosen the screws. We had bought a new alternator, but were uncertain that the extra wire provided by Hitachi did in fact drive the field winding, and we were never convinced that the regulator was working. On this occasion, however, the original alternator was soon dismantled, by a combination of paint stripper, mole wrench and other tools and technique. Re-assembled, and then replaced on the engine (a devil of a job due to lack of access around the engine), we concluded that the charge regulator was not in fact doing its job. While in the engineroom, JW had another look at the generator, and managed to remove the fuel valve solenoid. This was definitely open circuit, but he also found that the glow plug had become disconnected, or in view of a lack of the relevant wire, may never have been connected. We swam and relaxed, but never did get ashore there.
We planned to get to the Aeolean Islands on the way to the Straits of Messina. As this involved an 80mile hop, needing at least 15 hours, we decided on a very early start, and so set the alarm accordingly. We left the anchorage at 0430, just as the sky was beginning to lighten. Most of the journey was in slightly reduced visibility and very little wind, so that we had to motor most of the way. We were delighted when towards the end of the trip, a wind sprang up albeit from the SE, and we enjoyed beating up to Vulcano. Mo particularly enjoyed the opportunity to get the feel of the boat under these conditions. With easterly winds forecast, we chose to anchor on the NW side of Vulcano, as this is one of the few west facing anchorages in the group. We had originally planned to go to Salina, where we hoped to be able to see Stromboli, but this anchorage would have been exposed, as would the anchorages on Lipari. There were a handful of Brits in the anchorage, and we found a spot inside all of them nearer the beach. John spotted the rocks marked on the chart later!
The next morning, the forecast was giving westerlies, and before going ashore we decided to move around to the anchorage on the opposite side as a precaution. We enjoyed our day wandering about on shore. With more time it would have been good to make the effort to walk up to the active crater. It was quite actively touristic, and again was well served by ferries, and had a number of hotels. The island was interesting for the senses: coming in to the anchorage the evening before we had picked up what we took to be orange blossom. It was however from a broom-like plant that covered the mountainside in yellow flowers. Not to spoil you, you also got the occasional whiff of H2S (bad eggs), so much that we were each accusing each other of committing an indiscretion while in bed having tea in the morning. The sound of birdsong was another impression that will not easily be forgotten. |  |
That night all hell broke loose. There was a terrific thunderstorm with lightning that lasted for several hours, and the rain fell remorselessly (filling up our dinghy in the davits without its drain plug taken out). The wind blew as promised from the NW, and one by one boats dragged their anchors off the steeply shelving beach. Several drifted miles out to sea, their occupants seemingly unaware, while others attempted to re-anchor. JW maintained an anchor watch most of the night, partly out of fascination with the antics, partly out of self preservation. We had attached ourselves to a mooring block that we found lying next to where we had dropped the Rocna, so were not likely to drag ourselves.
The next day, we were slowly getting organised when Jean came over from N'Oubliez Jamais, a Jeanneau 452 similar to Peter Manly's. She was sailing the boat alone from Almerimar to Corfu, and we had first 'met' in the previous anchorage. She had come in later, and was one of the few who stayed put. We swapped notes on weather forecasts. Eventually we got away, and set off in the WNW F5 towards the Messina Straits, under jib alone. In view of the blow the previous evening, it was bound to be uncomfortable, and we were not surprised as we corkscrewed down the wind.
Once through Messina, we made for Reggio de Calabrio, on the mainland side of the straits. However, when we got there at about 2200, the expectations of an organised berth built up by reading Heikel were dashed. We tried a berth near the fuel berth, by a rusty old ferry boat, but the piers were too high for us to lie to. The ormiagatori who turned up suggested anchoring, but we did not really fancy the hassle of getting out our kedge at the stern. JW was tired and short of patience because of the antics of the previous night. We remembered Jean's talk of Tamaroa roads, on the Sicily side, and decided on that although it was 25nm away. The other alternative we had considered was Saline Ioniche. This was reported silted in Heikel but the Mediterranean Almanac says that it was dredged in 2004? It was too great a risk to run with a lee shore and in darkness in the early hours of the morning in any case. And so Mo took the brunt while JW slept, and it was 0315 when we anchored at Giardini Naxos.
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We had decided on a long stint to get into a position where hopefully we could get spares sent out to us at Brindisi. We did not notice Jean up anchor and slip away: she was there when JW got up, but gone by breakfast time, so we missed out on the tuna! We ourselves took some time getting the dinghy raised, and trying to communicate with Mastervolt and Sterling in order to get parts sent out to Brindisi.
We got away at 1215hrs. The wind was initially ESE, then swung around to the NW quite quickly and gusting to F6 before reverting to SE. Not long after that we had NW5, and in between practically nothing. So on occasions we were having to motor, and at other times we were very hard pressed despite the reef. Early in the morning the wind dropped out completely, and for much of the day we were forced to motor. In the late afternoon, the SW breeze freshened (from dead astern), so that we were able to raise the mainsail again having taken it down because it was slatting and popping battens back and forth to no effect. This was as well, as we were beginning to run short on diesel, having used up most of our reserves. We put in our last 30L keeping back one can only for emergencies. Mo encountered a lot of shipping on her watch, as they negotiated Risotta Point, the blister on Italy's heel. The coast up to Brindisi was flat and featureless, but fortunately a breeze eventually sprang up that enabled us to sail the last few miles in some style. Brindisi marina is new, very smart, and reasonably priced at 22 euros for us per night. We logged 269 miles with a little adverse current, accomplished over 52 hours at an average of 5.2 knots. Its the slower bits that always ruin your average!
When we arrived, there was no sign of the promised solenoid valve for the generator, nor the replacement alternator charge control. We may be here for a while! Meanwhile we have to gather cash to pay the courier COD.