Having intended to leave on Sunday, we were pleased that we did not have much to do other than say our goodbyes. Even so, we did not slip from our berth until midday. The wind came up just as we were about to leave, and settled at ESE F3, so our plan was to head as close to it as we could reasonably make, until we were near the Tunisian coast. At that point, we hoped for a wind shift (according to the grib data) to the south to enable us to make a good course towards Sicily. As seems usual, the sea in the bay in which Cagliari is situated was choppy and confused, but we were able to make reasonable progress. The wind freshened to F4 for a while, and we had put a reef in to improve the comfort on board. We hove to for supper, made possible by the control lines that constrain the sheet car for the self tacking jib. This eased our progress to a gentle 2 or 3 knots. We remained on the same tack throughout the night, and at 0900 were approaching the shallow sea mount off the Tunisian coast. The hoped for wind shift had not occurred, but we needed to tack away. We went about at 0900, and did what we could with the SE F3 going down 2 that we were given. That evening, the wind died, then at 1815 canme back up, this time from the ENE. We had just crossed our rhum line from Sardinia to Malta, so were able to settle down slightly free and fetch our proper course at speeds in excess of 6 knots in a pleasant flat sea. It was too good to last. At 0200, the wind dropped out altogether, and despite our plan to sail at all costs in order not to use fuel, on came the engine. We had had to run the generator earlier for 7 hours to make good our ampere hours: where they (280 AH) went was something of a mystery, but we think the autopilot had something to do with it in the awkward seas. Now, with visibility deteriorating and no sign of any wind, there was little alternative, so we set a course to hit the Sicily coast at Mazara del Vallo. Anchoring off the port at 1000 hrs, we turned a necessity into a virtue, and as the breeze filled in once more, declared a rest day. We did not go ashore, resting, reading and 'nerding', but the town appears to have some nice old churches amongst the modern developments.
We left the anchorage off Mazara del Vallo at 1130 hrs and immediatedly began to make good progress with a NW F5 behind us. For the most part, the trip was uneventful. The wind eased a bit to F4, and then later F3, but remained in the NW. We began to appreciate that despite the fine weather, vixibility was not very good when we failed to spot shipping until it was within four or five miles of us, when enormous shapes loomed out of the yellow gloom. The shipping only became a problem around 2000 hrs, when we were trying to enjoy our supper. We had been watching one ship on the AIS that looked a likely close encounter, and expecting him not to be able to see us, we called him up. He volunteered a small change of course to starboard, allowing us to maintain our course. We then soon afterwards encountered another, and had some difficulty calling him up: this time we offered a change of course, and came up to windward and passed under his stern. Although they were both fairly small, crossing ships' bows is always an uncomfortable process however certain you are of the separation. The rest of the night was uneventful. The wind remained with us, though quite light, and veered slightly to the north so we were unable to maintain our course in comfort. The residual swell from the NE meant that we occasionally lurched off a sea and the sails slatted, so that we had to rig a preventer on the boom. It was perhaps as well that we did not maintain our initial headlong progress overnight, as we would have been far too early. We gybed off Gozo, and then had a fair wind for the final few miles. Eventually the high white cliffs, reminding us of Bonefacio, loomed out of the murk, and by 1000 hours we were tied up on the visitors' pontoon at Mgarr marina, Gozo. The customs guy, in his office in the marina building, was most affable. We were fairly zonked out, and spent the rest of the day resting.
We had enjoyed the comings and goings in the harbour, the chimes from the church above, and periodically loud bangs. We resolved, but failed, to get up early to go up the hill to explore. It was around 1100 that we finally left the boat, and the sun was by that time working hard. Climbing the hill was therefore a challenge in itself, but we made it, and started taking photographs. The village of Ghajnsielem had at least two more fine churches and a smaller one, in addition to the one overlooking the harbour. There was very little sign of much else, although if you looked hard enough there was a Grand Hotel overlooking the harbour. The few shops appeared to be closed. However, from behind the Grand Hotel we got a glimpse of another town (Nadur) some distance away, much higher up, and dominated by yet another fine looking church. Enormous flags flew from many of the buildings. Realising we were not yet at the top of the hill, we set off in that direction, and soon came out into fields where there was some sign of cultivation, although most had been let go. A windmill turned in the breeze, yet the drive shaft to the pump was broken. We were quite tired, and had consumed our water supplies by the time we reached the town, and so were fairly desperate to find a bar.Saturday 28th June
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| Mgarr harbour is dominated by the churches in Ghajansielem above | Flag bedecked Nadur seen through haze across the fields below |
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| The main square of Nadur was decorated and primed with fireworks | The procession route was decorated in red and gold, with statues of saints along the route |
The streets had been decorated with garlands and statues, but were almost deserted, and nothing seemed open. We discovered eventually that the festival of St. Peter and St. Paul was to take place that evening and the next day. Proceedings started late in the evening, and would go on for much of the night. In the absence of any bars, we eventually found the supermarket and bought some water, date rolls, macaroons (best by June 8th) and biscuits. Thus armed with emergency supplies but preferring the real thing, we went in search of a bar/restaurant advertised behind the church. This was closed, but around the corner we found a place where an 'outside bar' was being constructed in the street, in preparation for the evening. Unlike the others, it was open for business, but had no food. We had learnt by now that a great firework display was planned for the evening, but not knowing the town we could not understand where. In the square in front of the church, many static fireworks (enormous catherine wheels) had been rigged: these were due to be let off at midnight. So we set off through the town, looking for the gardens where the main display of fireworks were said to be going to be let off. At this stage, we were considering staying put until the evening. Coming to the top of the hill again, we saw a fair blonde girl sitting on a doorstep and started talking to her. She proved to be an American tourist, but pointed across the fields to where the fireworks were being set up. We decided we should return to the boat to at least get some rest and food, so set off down a path leading down the escarpment into the fields, where we hoped to follow a track back towards the harbour. It was steep going at first, but levelled out and worked well, as we came back into the top of the village. Many of the buildings were in sandstone, and we noticed too that buildings were being rebuilt and refurbished using sandstone blocks cut to size on site. We dropped down to the harbour, calling at the supermarket for some fresh fruit on the way back to the boat. We were exhausted, estimating that we had covered around 6 miles mostly during the heat of the day. In the absence of any viable transport up the hill and back again, we decided to stay put on the boat. The fireworks began soon after 9 pm and continued until well after 10 pm: we could see the flash on the old fort wall opposite, a couple or more seconds before we heard the bang.
Having paid up at the marina, we decided at first to take a look at the popular Blue Lagoon on Comino Island. We motored over, and dropped anchor just inside a large Australian yacht. The bay was packed with small motorboats, large tripper boats, and large gulets. The larger tripper boats picked up moorings, and took lines ashore. Colourful parasols dotted the beach, which could barely be seen. The Maltese seem to enjoy very fast racing type motorboats whose engines even at tickover emit a throaty roar. There was continually coming and going, as smaller tripper ferry boats shuttled to and from Gozo. We took in the scene, had a brief swim, then took our leave. There was little breeze, and although we tried sailing we eventually had to give up and motor around to Dwejra on the west coast of Gozo. This is a circular bay with a large rock, called Fungus Rock(from the fungus collected there with allegedly medicinal properties), partly blocking the entrance. We anchored there, in fairly deep water. Despite the rock, some NW swell was creeping in to the bay, and we were rolling gently for much of the night.
We had the bay almost to ourselves. There was a big British registered Halberg ketch, an Italian boat that we had met in Mgarr, and on the second evening a large cutter rigged US catamaran called Blaze 2. She had a flying bridge over the main cockpit saloon, complete with rails, steering position, and windscreen. The boom must be 5 metres in the air. Having enjoyed our first day, flopping in and swimming whenever we felt too warm, we resolved to stay a second, and continue relaxing and reading. The wind dropped to a negligible amount, and the swell had completely died away.