We decided that we had better make a move, as we were beginning to run low on a few supplies. You can't sit and do nothing but read and swim for ever! We had hoped that a breeze might spring up, but were disappointed. What there was died away from the NW and re-appeared from the E, so that we now had a head wind. After a while there was nothing for it but to motor. We motor sailed past Mgarr, where there was a big Club Med 2 cruise ship with several masts and sails lying at anchor, then continued north about Comino, and so down to St. Paul's Bay. This is so called for it is where he was reputed to have been shipwrecked when he was being brought to Rome. The large church/cathedral in Valetta is another St. Paul's. We anchored at the head of the bay, and watched the comings and goings of the speed boats, gulets and disco boats. We even ventured a quick dip in the water, but speed boats were tearing through the moorings at full pelt. As night fell, they continued to do so, and did not bother with niceties such as navigation lights.
We arrived in Marsamxett and called up the marina, who luckily were able to accomodate us for the night in a berth. The staff were very friendly and helpful. Having failed to get a workable wifi connection in the bay overnight, I was delighted to find a usable one within range. The marina's wifi, unfortunately, was 'missing a part' and although you could connect, you could get no further. We waited until 1700 hrs when we hoped the heat would be dropping a bit, and set off to walk towards Valetta. There is a bus service, but we took the slow route around the harbour, visiting Msida marina en route. It was a long way around, and we were gasping for a drink but had passed by the most suitable venues. We made it to the top of the hill, through the entrance arch, and at last found a bar amongst the covered boulevards.
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| Valetta Grand Harbour, with visiting cruise ship | The main gate to Valetta |
Unfortunately the place was deserted, as the shops were shut by this time. There was a cruise ship in the harbour, which we admired, and as a result plenty of American accents. As we came to the old town, we found the fortifications and old buildings fascinating. In a square facing St. John's cathedral we found bars and eateries, and in the cathedral itself, admired only from the doorway, there was a crowded ordination service taking place. Having made our way to the most easterly end of the town, we climbed back to the square, and sat down for a well earned drink and meal. Afterwards, all we had to do was walk back, arriving back on board Fuga at about midnight.
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| The Black Pearl on the corner at Msida is handy for visitors | St. Paul's cathedral overlooks the entrance to Marsamxett |
We left our berth at Manoel island at 1330 hrs, having acquired some fresh stores, loaded water, paid up at the marina and cleared out. We were expecting westerly winds, but although there had been a slight westerly breeze, it had contrived to swing around and what there was was dead on the nose. So inevitably we had to motor. Fortunately at 1845 a breeze came in from the west south west, and it gradually freshened. By 0100 on Saturday it had veered slightly to the west, and we needed to put a reef in, and roll the jib. Two hours later, we had F5/6 and had to wear her around and put another reef in the main. By the morning, the wind had died a bit and veered into the north, giving us a beam reach. The wind began to back and die away at midday, and after running along with it for a while, John lost patience with the constant slatting and banging from the battens. The engine came on and the jib was rolled away for four and a half hours, before once more we were honoured with a respectable NW breeze that endured for the remainder of the night and much of the next day, Sunday. Finally the wind dropped out in the early hours of Monday morning, so we were forced to motor in for the last 25 miles. Comparing our experience with the Grib forecast over the period, it was uncannily accurate as far as wind strength and direction were concerned apart from the beginning of the period.
This was our longest passage ever. When we were going well, the continual heel and banging of the seas certainly got to Mo, but the sailing was generally quite good. We averaged 5.6 knots, and motored for 14 hours, sailing 80% of the way. The logged distance was some 30 nm further than the rhumb line: this was due to a southerly current of between 1 and 2 knots that seemed to dog us all the time.
We anchored just outside the harbour, as Mo insisted that as we were both tired we were bound to make a hash of berthing on the quay. This was a good call, as we were able to relax, swim, and do nothing. On the Tuesday morning, we thought we had better make an effort to see the Port Police and clear ourselves in to Greece. Having been unsuccessful at this during our visit last October, we were expecting similar hassle this time. It took time, but eventually having filled in the forms, paid our fee of 29.35 euros, we were issued with our transit log. Unfortunately we found that this meant we also had to clear out of Prevesas on leaving. I had to self-certify that I was competent to sail a yacht, as I had no certificate to produce. It was a little strange to fill in a form citing the full names of my father and my mother, as if they were responsible for my lack of an RYA certificate, 30 years and 20 years respectively on the opposite bank of the Styx!
On Wednesday we went ashore again, and cleared out from Prevesas. We spent some time in a bar with wireless internet catching up on things, and Mo found the shops. The wind had got up when we returned to the boat, so we decided to delay our voyage and stay put. John tried changing the gearbox oil on the outboard, as this was not working (transmission appearing to slip, like a clutch on a car?) properly, but to no effect: it will have to go to the doctors'. Printed off some Soduku off the Times web site: Mo now engrossed in a Fiendish Killer while John has given up in frustration on a Gentle one.
Prevezas seems a very pleasant place. Mooring on the quay seems to be free. There are some bars along the front, and eateries in the streets leading back. You have to penetrate two roads back before reaching the main road, and the centre of things. There are three yards opposite Prevezas offering services and storage, and one higher up. The town is at the entrance to an extensive inland gulf, which we have yet to explore.
I was allowed ashore to clear some e-mails and pursue our letting agents regarding a new let of our house in Bicester. Having been finding it difficult to keep on top of the fly population, I was also supposed to be finding a fly swat. We had seen some clever electrical ones that meant you did not have to catch the flies too hard: technology did the work. In the event, the business on the internet took some time, so as far as the hungry mate back on board was concerned, I was distinctly overdue when I eventually got back. I had however found out the answer to the outboard problem courtesy of YBW's Practical Boat Owner's forum. Business in the city must have been slow that day, as I had three replies in half an hour to my posted question! After lunch we set off under jib alone to sail down the gulf towards Vonitsa, situated on the southern side. We anchored in the Ormos Ay Markou, just to the west, where there were perhaps 10 other yachts anchored. It might have been almost ideal, but for the cicadas singing in the bush. A party of Italians were barbequeing noisily on the beach, and late in the evening there was some frantic shouting, squealing and noises off from a variety of animals, sheep, goats, and pigs. There was a farm building all but hidden in the scrub and trees. We were fairly sure that it was one of the pigs' turn to be slaughtered. The other feature of the bay was of course the ever present flies, no doubt in greater number due to the animals.