The day got off to a shaky start, having set the alarm for a full day's journey through the Messina straits. Fortunately, (or unfortunately), Mo discovered that the freezer was not working, and was defrosting, although the light was on at the switch. We have been trying to manage its power consumption by switching it off over night. She recovered the food, most of the frozen stuff fitting into the fridge ice box fortunately, as stocks are low. Meanwhile I emptied the cockpit locker to get access, and found there was no power getting to the freezer. The new fuse/switch unit fitted in Alanya had 'popped' - I thought it was cheap at the time, and the light being on was not indicative of a healthy situation. Having sorted this out, we got under way rather later than intended at 0900.
It was flat calm, sort of. Although the water is flat, the wash of passing traffic periodically sends some waves through, that have had us rolling at our anchorage over the last few days. After motoring for a while, we decided that we could just about sail the course in the NNE breeze that developed. Getting very low on fuel, we sailed a leg tacking with a short and long tack close into the beach, until just short of Messina we had to head up so started the engine again. Fortunately we located the fuel berth at Paradiso, north of Messina, without difficulty, and they were open (it was Sunday afternoon). We took 145 litres in our 160 litre tank without overflowing, and also topped up on water.
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| The sword fishing boats had scant regard for colregs |
We had seen one of the strait's swordfishing boats, and thought we had been lucky when we saw another decked out as an 'escursione' complete with tourists. We had not reckoned on them being a positive hazard, as we encountered several more on the trip up to the point at the northern end. The boats have a very tall mast, with a crowsnest at the top for one or two spotters. At the bow there is an extending bowsprit with a catwalk, supported from the mast. The bowsprit is approximately two boat's lengths long. The modus operandi is for the spotters to find fish basking on the surface, as the boats charge around trying to cover as much ground as possible. If they are fortunate enough to spot a fish, then a fisherman goes out onto the end of the bowsprit, and attempts to impale it with a 'Neptune's trident' type spear as the boat creeps up on the unsuspecting victim. The boats had no regard whatsoever for the collision regulations: we were passing one boat well clear port to port when without any warning he swung his bowsprit across our path forcing us to stop and go around his stern. We did not see one of the boats approach a quarry, so the fish must be expensive when they do catch one.
Once we were through the straits, and heading west along the coast, the winds died somewhat, and we were again forced to motor. We managed to get to Milazzo just before dark. Research on Google Earth as we went along showed photos of yachts off the beach north of the town, so we headed there. When we got there we found that it was very steep-to (that you could tell from the chart) and that every available space was occupied by small boat moorings, and two floating 'marinas'. In daylight the next day we saw that there was a small area to anchor, but as things were we headed inside one of the pontoons, and tied up with the aid of a marineiro with lazy lines in 25 metres of water! The lines went down at 60 degrees. At the office they claimed the computer was 'busto' and asked me to check in in the morning. There were celebrations going on, fireworks, a parade, etc. and I think that the family who appear to run the place were simply celebrating. I was quoted 80€ for the night, and was tempted to leave, except that Mo felt we would never find anywhere else to anchor in the dark. Put up and shut up was the order of the day. As the ferry traffic outside set up a surge through the marina, one of the adjacent boats hit the pontoon with a mighty crack.
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| Milazzo is an attractive town, but very limited for cruising boats |
I tried to check in twice with the marina (Marina S. Maria Maggiore), but no one understood English. A US guy was also trying to settle up without much success. We went in search of some fresh supplies, and to see if we could locate some carburettor/fuel pump kits for the outboard, as it is still playing up. Although Yamaha indicate there is a dealership there, it is simply I think a promotional event held in the Neptuno marina within the harbour. Certainly it seems a good promotion, as nearly all the mostly big outboards on the many ribs were Yamaha. We found a large pharmacist, who agreed to order in a packet of the antibiotic that I was using for my leg. This looks very much like the infection I had in Croatia, and recurred in Cagliari the following year. The antibiotics I was given by the consultant in case of a recurrence were dated to expire in December 2008, but I had started a course all the same. I settled with the marina, who now wanted 100€ for Fuga as we are 12.45 metres, not 12. I tried to remonstrate with them, knowing it was useless, and the young woman became quite angry when I insisted on a fattura - effectively a VAT invoice, settling for 80€. This is the most we have ever paid for a night's mooring since leaving the UK in 2004! My leg had blown up with the walking, so Mo insisted on horizontal rest amd elevation for most of the afternoon. We waited for the pills to arrive in the late afternoon, and then left the marina and managed to anchor a little further south, where we had seen boats anchored during the morning.
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| Lipari was steep-to, and anchoring limited We did not get ashore! |
We had a reasonably comfortable night once the wash from ferries and ribs had died down. We waited for the breeze to set up, then set off from the anchorage. After tacking out, we were able to fetch our course for Vulcano, then decided that we would try Lipari instead. It was a very pleasant quiet sail in the light NE breeze, so that we were only forced to motor for an hour to get to Lipari for six o'clock. We found that the bay in which the pilot suggest you can anchor is now occupied by mooring pontoons, and we were actively whistled in as we passed along. Mo suggested we give up and go to Vulcano, but the pressure of boats about made that equally unlikely. As it happened, we found a spot at the extreme south of the bay south of Lipari port, and managed to squeeze in. After we anchored, several more, mostly large boats came and anchored outside us. The outboard is faulty, so we did not launch the dinghy to go ashore, besides which Mo is forbidding me to use my gammy leg.
We had picked up that there was a forecast of stronger winds around Sardinia, starting on Saturday. We decided that as my leg and the outboard were both crook, making it difficult to get ashore, there was not much to hold us in the Aeolian islands. The anchorages are all busy, and the waters in constant turmoil from the ferries and motor boats plying back and forth. So we decided there was no point in spending another day at anchor: we might as well get going and hopefully reach La Calletta before the strong winds.
The snag, of course, was that there was no wind to speak of. Mo did some galley preparations and generally worked around the boat, while I had a last minute nerding session. We then set off across the bay. As soon as a bit of breeze came in, around lunch time, we stopped the motor in order to sail. It turned out to be slow going, and by the evening the breeze fizzled out. The grib files promised us some wind, initially from the north/north west, and later after a 'dead zone', from the south and west. So we decided to use the starboard tack as much as possible, to position ourselves south of the rhumb line so that we could then take advantage of the southerlies.
We are getting into the swing of these longer passages, and they pass in a sort of fuzzy cloud, alternately tired and then perhaps wide awake. We both spent much of the time when not in the bunk reading. Note the singular, we have just one berth kitted out with a lee cloth for use as a passage berth, and it is in almost continuous occupation! Mo's prior preparation meant that we had three easy to heat and serve suppers, and the fortuitous discovery of the freezer melt down meant that she was desperate to get some food used up. So there was plenty of bacon to be had, and smoked salmon for sandwiches. We managed to lose the expensive lure that Glen had persuaded me to buy: I had made up a wire trace, but it broke where it was bent onto the lure itself.
The forecast worked out well for us. We had to motor much of the time overnight, but we did manage to do some sailing: the winds behaved much as forecast. During Mo's last overnight watch she copped some wind which gusted to F7 which had been unexpected. We had to drop to two reefs. While we had hoped to continue further north, to Porto Cugnana, this made no sense in view of the earlier onset of the winds, and we headed instead for La Caletta. Approximately 290 nm, the log still under-reading, over 68.5hours, of which 30.5 hrs were under engine.
Having arrived at La Calletta early in the morning, Mo was ready for sleep, and I was not. She went to bed for a while, then got up and went shopping for some essential supplies. It was blowing reasonably hard. After lunch, I went to my bunk, and did not emerge until well into the evening. Mo meanwhile had been reading. After supper, she went off to bed, and I hung around until I eventually felt like going to sleep again around 1 am.
We managed to get up, have breakfast, and get ourselves organised, leaving the harbour about 11am. We managed to pick up a chain as we left, having no obvious owner, which slowed our exit a little. Outside the winds were NNE, so we had to tack up the coast. Initially the idea was to go outside Isola Tavolata, and this may indeed have been better. However, in the end we settled for the inside passage. This gave us some fast sailing as we gave away some of the hard-won work to windward, followed by some gusty then flukey conditions as we came under the lee of this most impressive piece of rock, reminiscent of a mini Gibralter. Once north of the island we gave up trying to sail in the lumpy conditions, and motored the remainder of the journey to Porto Cugnana. As we did so, the wind backed to the west and continued to head us. We passed some impressive bits of boat, but found the anchorage relatively quiet. There is a new pontoon/marina operation there since our last visit four years ago.
The forecast wind began to make itself felt in the early hours of the morning, and built up gradually with gusts in the 40's and occasionally 50 knots. We veered around on our anchor, but fortunately it did not move, while a couple of boats around us did. The wind continued to blow in gusts all day long. With the outboard misbehaving, we were unable to lay a second bower. We ran Navmon on the computer most of the day in anchor watch mode. Mo read, while I spent time trying to construct a cash flow budget to take us through until the end of the year. Because of the motion of the boat, it was impossible to find any shade in the cockpit, so the day was spent hunkered down below.
Mo and I were busy trying to come to terms with the Easyjet web site when Sulaire anchored alongside us unrecognised. When we eventually emerged from down below and recognised Hugh and Cherry, we dropped the dinghy in the water and went over for a coffee and chat, followed by some beers, wine and nibbles. In the afternoon I stripped down the outboard carburettor, and following some wisdom on the YBW forum, put the carb into a pan of very hot water, in order to try and clear out its internal passages. Having put it on the dinghy, failed to start it, and taken it back on board and stripped the carb for a second time, I reassembled it. I had not been sure whether I had the main jet in the right way round, as I had not properly observed how it was when it came out. In re-assembling the carb onto the engine I realised the error of my ways: the kill cord was not in position! The outboard started without any trouble. Hugh also had a problem with his outboard, so fresh from this success we took his to bits. We cleaned the main jets, which appeared to be krudded with salt deposits, but when put back on the engine it was little better: the slow running jet still appeared to be blocked. It will have to come off again. We were invited to Sulaire for a BBQ, somewhat hazardously perched on their aft boarding platform, to which we contributed some pork from Pilos. Afterwards we went below for some 'sticky stuff' (Cointreau) and a card game called 'down the pan' which seemed to be a variation on solo.