2017 Sailing Diaries
Our sailing season started later, having spent many months exploring Curacao and Panama City, Panama, Poland, and our families in Canada and The Netherlands. By sea, we started in the Ionian Sea, visiting the Greek islands and mainland, west to Italy and around the boot, south to Sicily, to Malta, and back to Sicily, west to the Balearic Islands, and to mainland Spain, ending the season in Cartagena.
Our sailing season started later, having spent many months exploring Curacao and Panama City, Panama, Poland, and our families in Canada and The Netherlands. By sea, we started in the Ionian Sea, visiting the Greek islands and mainland, west to Italy and around the boot, south to Sicily, to Malta, and back to Sicily, west to the Balearic Islands, and to mainland Spain, ending the season in Cartagena.
May 7, 2017 -- Back On The Boat
Returning to Big Sky in Greece after six months of land travel feels good. A planned French canal trip with our Dutch family was cancelled, so Con and I booked an impromptu trip to Poland instead. We had sailed into Gdansk, Poland in the Baltic Sea in 2007 and always said we'd return to that beautiful country.
Up early, we drove in our rental for our 3 ½ hours on the Polish highway to the Warsaw Airport, where speed limits you at 140 KPH. It was a two-day trip, with the first day via Paris stopping in Athens. We dragged our bags out the Athens Airport doors and were hit with the orange blossom aroma that is “Greece”! “We’re home!” I announced. Con had booked us into the Softeil hotel across the street, but it was a very short night. Our flight to the town of Ioannia left early the next day, followed by chauffered ride to Preveza, as pre-arranged by Con.
Returning to Big Sky in Greece after six months of land travel feels good. A planned French canal trip with our Dutch family was cancelled, so Con and I booked an impromptu trip to Poland instead. We had sailed into Gdansk, Poland in the Baltic Sea in 2007 and always said we'd return to that beautiful country.
Up early, we drove in our rental for our 3 ½ hours on the Polish highway to the Warsaw Airport, where speed limits you at 140 KPH. It was a two-day trip, with the first day via Paris stopping in Athens. We dragged our bags out the Athens Airport doors and were hit with the orange blossom aroma that is “Greece”! “We’re home!” I announced. Con had booked us into the Softeil hotel across the street, but it was a very short night. Our flight to the town of Ioannia left early the next day, followed by chauffered ride to Preveza, as pre-arranged by Con.
In Preveza
May 9 – Climbing the stairs to Big Sky’s on the hard, Con unlaced just enough tarp to get at the ropes. Dropping a line, I attached it to each suitcase, one at a time, and Con pulled them up and into the cockpit. Wasps and bees swarmed us. I opened the companion way doors, and deposited our bags inside. The two of us began the big job of taking off the three-pieces of large blue tarp that had completely covered Big Sky. When Con flipped back a section, guard wasps attacked him, stinging him four times on his arm! He then saw four medium-sized wasps nests affixed to the underside of the tarp and whacked them with the back of his hand flinging them into the field beside us. With Big Sky just moments away from being launched, and with continued efficiency we folded the enormous canvasses.
We sipped a couple of lattes waiting for the crane to put us back into the water. My attention was drawn to two sparrows flying frantically around the end of the boom. One had a beak full of straw. He’d land on the stern halyard, fly out of sight above the Bimini, and back to circle the boom. I knew exactly what they were up to, since the end of the boom makes a fabulous condo setup for bird nests. I climbed up to take a look, and sure enough, it was stuffed full of straw, twine, leaves… Using a number of different tools, I managed to dig deep into the boom and pulled out a nest about a foot long. While I worked, the two sparrows sat behind me making loud frantic chatter. The message was clear, they were not impressed. I had pulled out as much as I could reach (which wasn't all of it) and spotted yet another wasp nest in behind the nest. A few hours now had lapsed, and the female returned flapping her wings to hover in front of the now empty boom peeking in, circling and peeking in again. She was in a panic and right in front of me, she dropped her egg in flight. I looked at it splattered on the teak cockpit ledge, feeling bad for her. She flew off.
May 9 – Climbing the stairs to Big Sky’s on the hard, Con unlaced just enough tarp to get at the ropes. Dropping a line, I attached it to each suitcase, one at a time, and Con pulled them up and into the cockpit. Wasps and bees swarmed us. I opened the companion way doors, and deposited our bags inside. The two of us began the big job of taking off the three-pieces of large blue tarp that had completely covered Big Sky. When Con flipped back a section, guard wasps attacked him, stinging him four times on his arm! He then saw four medium-sized wasps nests affixed to the underside of the tarp and whacked them with the back of his hand flinging them into the field beside us. With Big Sky just moments away from being launched, and with continued efficiency we folded the enormous canvasses.
We sipped a couple of lattes waiting for the crane to put us back into the water. My attention was drawn to two sparrows flying frantically around the end of the boom. One had a beak full of straw. He’d land on the stern halyard, fly out of sight above the Bimini, and back to circle the boom. I knew exactly what they were up to, since the end of the boom makes a fabulous condo setup for bird nests. I climbed up to take a look, and sure enough, it was stuffed full of straw, twine, leaves… Using a number of different tools, I managed to dig deep into the boom and pulled out a nest about a foot long. While I worked, the two sparrows sat behind me making loud frantic chatter. The message was clear, they were not impressed. I had pulled out as much as I could reach (which wasn't all of it) and spotted yet another wasp nest in behind the nest. A few hours now had lapsed, and the female returned flapping her wings to hover in front of the now empty boom peeking in, circling and peeking in again. She was in a panic and right in front of me, she dropped her egg in flight. I looked at it splattered on the teak cockpit ledge, feeling bad for her. She flew off.
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May 12 -- Nests Create a Dangerous Engine Failure
Our launch was behind schedule as there was a difficult lift taking place with a super yacht. Big Sky was finally launched, Con turned over the engine and gave the crew the “thumbs up”. We attempted to tie on to check the cooling systems to see if it was venting because they instructed, “Go now!” The wind was blowing 20 – 25 knots and we set sail for Lefkada and turned off the engine. Approaching the critical part of our route where the sea narrows and we must wait for the floating bridge to open, we turned on the engine, but nothing happened. The channel narrows with sand bars and shallows on either side, it becomes critical to use your engine, but it wouldn’t start! Con tried it over and over, and it just sputtered and quit.had just enough wind and turning room to turn Big Sky into the wind and away from the shoal.m Trying again, it came to life. We dropped the sails and headed to the bridge, now opening. Once in Lefkada, we called a mechanic. The issue was discovered. Wasps had built a large nest in the venting hose! No permanent damage was done to the engine, just to our pocketbook. Now settled, Con pulled out our bikes and we headed to the Lidl to stock up. My bike back brake had rusted inside the cable and luckily, the bike repair shop was nearby. One hour, and 6 euro later, the bike break cable was replaced.
May 15 – Rain dumped a layer and a half of Sarah Desert topside. Lefkada rain wins hands down, the award for “The Dirtiest Rain”. With all the elbow grease we could muster, Big Sky was sparkly clean again. Untying from the Lefkada marina, we motored through the narrow channel directly toward One Tree Bay spotting a happy sight. A big French flag waving off the back of Pacific Pearl and good friends Judy and Bruno waving their warm hellos to us. It had been a half year and more since we'd last seen each other. Dropping Bruce (our big 50 kg anchor) near Pacific Pearl, we immediately let down our swim platform and with 28 degree temperatures, we slipped into the coolish blue Mediterranean waters for our delicious first swim of the season. Later Judy and Bruno came aboard for snacks and a good catch up. Just as the sun was setting, the wind picked up. Judy and Bruno motored back to their boat, and we lifted Bruce to reanchor in the better-protected anchorage of Vliho.
Our launch was behind schedule as there was a difficult lift taking place with a super yacht. Big Sky was finally launched, Con turned over the engine and gave the crew the “thumbs up”. We attempted to tie on to check the cooling systems to see if it was venting because they instructed, “Go now!” The wind was blowing 20 – 25 knots and we set sail for Lefkada and turned off the engine. Approaching the critical part of our route where the sea narrows and we must wait for the floating bridge to open, we turned on the engine, but nothing happened. The channel narrows with sand bars and shallows on either side, it becomes critical to use your engine, but it wouldn’t start! Con tried it over and over, and it just sputtered and quit.had just enough wind and turning room to turn Big Sky into the wind and away from the shoal.m Trying again, it came to life. We dropped the sails and headed to the bridge, now opening. Once in Lefkada, we called a mechanic. The issue was discovered. Wasps had built a large nest in the venting hose! No permanent damage was done to the engine, just to our pocketbook. Now settled, Con pulled out our bikes and we headed to the Lidl to stock up. My bike back brake had rusted inside the cable and luckily, the bike repair shop was nearby. One hour, and 6 euro later, the bike break cable was replaced.
May 15 – Rain dumped a layer and a half of Sarah Desert topside. Lefkada rain wins hands down, the award for “The Dirtiest Rain”. With all the elbow grease we could muster, Big Sky was sparkly clean again. Untying from the Lefkada marina, we motored through the narrow channel directly toward One Tree Bay spotting a happy sight. A big French flag waving off the back of Pacific Pearl and good friends Judy and Bruno waving their warm hellos to us. It had been a half year and more since we'd last seen each other. Dropping Bruce (our big 50 kg anchor) near Pacific Pearl, we immediately let down our swim platform and with 28 degree temperatures, we slipped into the coolish blue Mediterranean waters for our delicious first swim of the season. Later Judy and Bruno came aboard for snacks and a good catch up. Just as the sun was setting, the wind picked up. Judy and Bruno motored back to their boat, and we lifted Bruce to reanchor in the better-protected anchorage of Vliho.
May 19 -- Today Larry, my late husband and dad to my two daughters would have been 65. He left us at 49. ❤️
We slept like baby hippos (they sleep well) with Bruce deep in the sticky mud. Judy and Bruno anchored near to us the next day in Vliho Bay. The four of us in Judy and Bruno's dingy rendezvoused for dinner in Nidri, with friends Pam and Roger whom we hadn't seen for seven years, enjoying a fabulous meal in a restaurant where the Albanian proprietor both served the crowded tables and entertained us with circus acts. He was once in the Albanian circus. The food was exceptional and the owner exuded everything we love about the people in Greece, friendly, generous, and happy. Our table ordered a round of mussels, garlic bread, and a delicious main course each, and the wine never stopped. When we asked for the bill, he said, 15 euro each. We tried to give more, and he returned with liquor and more wine.
The next day, we set sail to Preveza for a night on the anchor, planning to set sail for Paxos just south of Corfu.
We slept like baby hippos (they sleep well) with Bruce deep in the sticky mud. Judy and Bruno anchored near to us the next day in Vliho Bay. The four of us in Judy and Bruno's dingy rendezvoused for dinner in Nidri, with friends Pam and Roger whom we hadn't seen for seven years, enjoying a fabulous meal in a restaurant where the Albanian proprietor both served the crowded tables and entertained us with circus acts. He was once in the Albanian circus. The food was exceptional and the owner exuded everything we love about the people in Greece, friendly, generous, and happy. Our table ordered a round of mussels, garlic bread, and a delicious main course each, and the wine never stopped. When we asked for the bill, he said, 15 euro each. We tried to give more, and he returned with liquor and more wine.
The next day, we set sail to Preveza for a night on the anchor, planning to set sail for Paxos just south of Corfu.
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May 20 -- Dropping anchor behind the Preveza breakwater, the wind kicked up, not letting up until nearly sunset, so we decided against taking Little Sky (our dingy) into town. Early in the morning, we quietly departed the anchorage setting sail over a lumpy sea toward Paxos, 31 NM to the northwest. Just leaving the channel, a female Loggerhead turtle was swimming horizontally while the male climbed aboard. She'll mate many times up until June and when she has enough eggs, she'll lay them in a specific location. Late summer, little babies will make their way to the sea.
Arriving on the pretty -- and touristy -- island of Paxos, we dropped our bow anchor and back up stern to the quay. Once settled, we selected a shaded table for lunch, just steps from Big Sky and were entertained by the ferries arriving delivering anxious tourists. Three ferries in all arrived after us, each with their massive anchor chain OVER ours. That night, a party boat arrived at 12:30 am, with a French Horn blasting, along with a drum beating, "bang, bang, bang", and a man leading an annoying shout, "PAR-TYYY" followed by the guests shouting, PAAARRR--TTTTTYYYY". That lasted an hour. The ferries left by morning, and then we watched charter boat captains (many unsure and inexperienced) dropping anchor and laying chain over ours. All in all, there were no anchor/chain problems and we departed with fond memories of Paxos, a very appealing Greek island.
Arriving on the pretty -- and touristy -- island of Paxos, we dropped our bow anchor and back up stern to the quay. Once settled, we selected a shaded table for lunch, just steps from Big Sky and were entertained by the ferries arriving delivering anxious tourists. Three ferries in all arrived after us, each with their massive anchor chain OVER ours. That night, a party boat arrived at 12:30 am, with a French Horn blasting, along with a drum beating, "bang, bang, bang", and a man leading an annoying shout, "PAR-TYYY" followed by the guests shouting, PAAARRR--TTTTTYYYY". That lasted an hour. The ferries left by morning, and then we watched charter boat captains (many unsure and inexperienced) dropping anchor and laying chain over ours. All in all, there were no anchor/chain problems and we departed with fond memories of Paxos, a very appealing Greek island.
May 22 -- Pretty Gaios on the island of Paxos (south of Corfu). Day 3, and we're still here... it's one of those places where we wake up and say, "Why not another day." We love Greece, the people and and the Greek lifestyle. Paxoi (the Greek spelling) is the romantic island hideaway of the god Poseidon. We're surrounded by turquoise waters. Pictures from our morning walk below.
May 27 -- Pulling ourselves away from Paxos, we had a brilliant sail on 15-17-knot beam winds and to boot, over a smooth-as-a-baby's- bottom sea, to another blue-water anchorage, End Bay just off the Greek mainland. Bruce was clearly visible 3.5 meters below. Since our location had limited space, Con took Little Sky to shore with a line tying our stern to a rock. By 8 am, I was already snorkeling, chasing a school of blue fish while trying to catch them with Con's birthday present, an underwater camera. Later, we shared an iced coffee and carrot cake aboard with our one and only neighbour, an elderly man currently sailing solo.
May 29 -- Plantaria
Knowing there's another piece of paradise yet to be discovered, we pulled off our shore line, lifted Bruce and wound through the inlets and islands to the town of Plantaria. We had hoped to plug in Big Sky and give her a good charge, but there was no electricity at the quay, iand no charge either. The stores offered minimal choice, but enough to fill our fruit bowl, fridge, and cupboards. We lifted anchor and set off to explore more of Greece's beautiful hide away anchorages. No wonder the Greek Gods hung around here! Our next anchorage was in the bay of Valtu, which turned out to be more of a paradise for fish -- or not. We anchored in a deep blue water-coloured bay surrounded by fish farms. As the sun was setting, the fish were becoming more excited, jumping high out of the water. Late at night, there seemed to be a fish party below the boat. Fish were splashing loudly around the boat and like drunken sailors, bashing into our rudder, which is situated below our bed. I had to relocate to the bunk room bed for a more quiet sleep.
The next day, we took Little Sky to shore, a swamp-like area where it appears a few fishermen have claimed the shore with a shack or two. We stretched our legs for a short walk along the dirt road. On each side of the road, massive spider webs were built by massive spiders! No fly-by's could get by there. It was time to return to civilization. We sailed to Mandraki Marina on the large island of Corfu.
Knowing there's another piece of paradise yet to be discovered, we pulled off our shore line, lifted Bruce and wound through the inlets and islands to the town of Plantaria. We had hoped to plug in Big Sky and give her a good charge, but there was no electricity at the quay, iand no charge either. The stores offered minimal choice, but enough to fill our fruit bowl, fridge, and cupboards. We lifted anchor and set off to explore more of Greece's beautiful hide away anchorages. No wonder the Greek Gods hung around here! Our next anchorage was in the bay of Valtu, which turned out to be more of a paradise for fish -- or not. We anchored in a deep blue water-coloured bay surrounded by fish farms. As the sun was setting, the fish were becoming more excited, jumping high out of the water. Late at night, there seemed to be a fish party below the boat. Fish were splashing loudly around the boat and like drunken sailors, bashing into our rudder, which is situated below our bed. I had to relocate to the bunk room bed for a more quiet sleep.
The next day, we took Little Sky to shore, a swamp-like area where it appears a few fishermen have claimed the shore with a shack or two. We stretched our legs for a short walk along the dirt road. On each side of the road, massive spider webs were built by massive spiders! No fly-by's could get by there. It was time to return to civilization. We sailed to Mandraki Marina on the large island of Corfu.
June 5 -- On our way to Orthono Island, north of Corfu
Our stay at the Mandraki Marina was near perfect. For 45 euro per night, we had all the electrics, water and WiFi we could use, calm, quiet nights, and breath-taking views of the Ionian in front of us and the Corfu castle behind us. (Pictured in the six-picture gallery below.) Corfu has a tremendous Italian influence, both in their architecture and food. It was a preview of our days ahead, since we'd arrive in Italy in a few days. Sailing east from Corfu, slowing for the Costa Classica, when it cut in front of us, we wound through the dog-leg entrance to a bay just south of Albania, sneaking through Albanian waters and a minefield of fish farms to get there. The water was greener, not the clear blue we enjoy, but it was a peaceful stop in the middle of a bird paradise. Do birds swear? I was trying to make out the call a white herron (or known as the Great Egret) was making once he clumsily fell from the low bush he tried to land on while being chased by sea gulls. It sounded like an expressive swear word a bird such as the egret might use. The gulls circled above him, and once the egret found his composure, he took off very low to the water to the rest of his colony ashore, all the while chased by the relentless gulls.
By morning, we exited again sneaking through Albanian waters, this time with our quarantine flag, hoping that would deter officials from stopping us. Our last Greek stop was the north side of the small island of Orthono, just north and west of Corfu. South winds made it ideal for the night. However, a tricky anchorage it was, with massive cave-like rocks below, some rising a few meters. When inspecting the anchor through our goggles, we were surprised how close our stern was to an outcrop rising to about three meters. With waves, that would be nasty, we re-anchored further out to sea.
Our stay at the Mandraki Marina was near perfect. For 45 euro per night, we had all the electrics, water and WiFi we could use, calm, quiet nights, and breath-taking views of the Ionian in front of us and the Corfu castle behind us. (Pictured in the six-picture gallery below.) Corfu has a tremendous Italian influence, both in their architecture and food. It was a preview of our days ahead, since we'd arrive in Italy in a few days. Sailing east from Corfu, slowing for the Costa Classica, when it cut in front of us, we wound through the dog-leg entrance to a bay just south of Albania, sneaking through Albanian waters and a minefield of fish farms to get there. The water was greener, not the clear blue we enjoy, but it was a peaceful stop in the middle of a bird paradise. Do birds swear? I was trying to make out the call a white herron (or known as the Great Egret) was making once he clumsily fell from the low bush he tried to land on while being chased by sea gulls. It sounded like an expressive swear word a bird such as the egret might use. The gulls circled above him, and once the egret found his composure, he took off very low to the water to the rest of his colony ashore, all the while chased by the relentless gulls.
By morning, we exited again sneaking through Albanian waters, this time with our quarantine flag, hoping that would deter officials from stopping us. Our last Greek stop was the north side of the small island of Orthono, just north and west of Corfu. South winds made it ideal for the night. However, a tricky anchorage it was, with massive cave-like rocks below, some rising a few meters. When inspecting the anchor through our goggles, we were surprised how close our stern was to an outcrop rising to about three meters. With waves, that would be nasty, we re-anchored further out to sea.
June 6 -- Anticipating a 50 NM journey (9 hours) to Italy from the Greek island of Orthono we had a coffee and pulled up anchor. Winds were blowing 12-15 knots on a broad reach, just the right conditions for the gennaker, not too affectionately called the finnaker, (our red and white f---ing gennaker). It has never failed to cause us anxiety. But, why not give it another chance to prove itself worthy of the precious real estate it consumes on the top bunk. We set it up, each taking a moment here and there to smile confidently at each other. Con at the bow and me at the winch -- up up up it went and filled with wind. Feeling proud, we watched the boat speed move from 2 knots to 6 knots on a comfy sail for a few hours. The wind speed began to rise. We had made a pact that before it reached 20 knots, we'd drop "the cone" that snuffs out the enormous sail and bring it down. At 18 knots, we began the snuffing task. True to its nickname, the fennaker became recalcitrant. The cone wouldn't snuff. Something in the snuffer lines prevented it. We suffered for an hour attempting to pull that sucker in, but it seemed it wanted its way and that was to remain half up and half down with its lines flapping in the wind. I was more than willing to cut the line and let it fall in the sea and sink into what happened to be the deepest part of our crossing -- one kilometre depth. Con and I continued to fight with it, and at one point, I held the line so tightly that as the wave lifted the bow, I became airborne for a second. Eventually, we won, the fennaker is back in its bag and back on its perch on the top bunk. With a 17 knot wind, our main and genoa out, we were doing the same speed. Now, conversations are taking place aboard Big Sky about when and where the fennaker might make a nice addition to someone else's boat. Today, however, was one of those special days in the Med, where we sailed the entire journey, something that rarely happens. It was an awesome sail. At our half-way point, a military or coast guard helicopter flew directly to our boat, making a circle around us twice before moving on. Looking for refugees?
June 7 -- Arriving in the unassuming town of Maria di Leuca, at the cape, or the "heel" of Italy's boot, we tied to the first pier pictured above and walked up the hill to explore the area, starting with the 254 steps up to the 16th century watchtower now the lighthouse. The climb took us 100 meters above the sea for a bird's eye view of the cape. Leuca is home to a man-made waterfall, made to represent the end of the Puglia aqueduct. It's construction began in the mid 19th century, and completed in 1941, the longest European aqueduct. Mussolini was a fan of the project and ordered the finale (in Leuca) to be a showy landmark. The water still cascades down the rocks to a grotto below and into the sea, but is only turned on a few times a year. We weren't lucky enough to be there then. The area is beautiful, with geological formations in the form of caves and grottos on either side of the marina.
Big winds were expected in the wee hours of Thursday morning, so after a brief stop in front of a beach in the city of Galipolo, we entered the large harbour seeking protective shelter. Like the children's book story of the Three Pigs, the first marina costs too much (110 euro), the second marina was too small, and the third marina was just right (at 60 euros). About 60 euro more than we're used to paying in Greece, but a good place to shelter us from the Mistral, the north winds expected to pound us for a few days.
Big winds were expected in the wee hours of Thursday morning, so after a brief stop in front of a beach in the city of Galipolo, we entered the large harbour seeking protective shelter. Like the children's book story of the Three Pigs, the first marina costs too much (110 euro), the second marina was too small, and the third marina was just right (at 60 euros). About 60 euro more than we're used to paying in Greece, but a good place to shelter us from the Mistral, the north winds expected to pound us for a few days.
June 9 -- The Mistral wind arrived exactly as forecast, almost to the minute! We clocked gusts in the mid 30s knots, (55 kph), and Big Sky as heavy as she is, was rocking when the Ionian kicked up. We were tied securely in a marina in the pretty Venetian town of Gallipoli, pictured above. Marinaros returned to our boat at some point before the strongest winds arrived and added stern lines to the chains at the bottom of the marina. The Mediterranean receives different wind systems originating from various northern weather patterns. The Mistral is an anticyclone created when the Bay of Biscay weather clashes with the Gulf of Genoa pushing cold north wind from the Alps from France south sometimes as far as Northern Africa. The wasps are still hanging around trying to build a home aboard.
June 12 – Mini Hoodlums!
Taranto, (pictured above) the city with two seas was once said to be the most polluted city in Western Europe. For 67 euro (including power, water, and WiFi ashore) we tied up for two nights. The water was clear and wonderful, but not long ago, an iron foundry released an extraordinary amount of toxic waste, so much that the owners were sent to jail, and fined beyond their ability to pay and lost the foundry. Today, it still operates only a few times a week, releasing an acceptable amount of toxins in the air. Taranto is the second largest naval base in Europe due to the natural and enormous harbour. The city is a beat-up place, but enchanting all the same. The old city is situated on land only accessible by two bridges, with a shallow area behind where millions and millions of shellfish are farmed, (pictured above) with the Gulf of Taranto on the other side (hence the city with two seas).
During Taranto's sleepy siesta time, we walked through the narrow alleyways of the old town, a pretty rough-looking neighbourhood, crumbling buildings, and gang-like-ooking men standing around. (Streets are pictured in #1 and #6.) We passed about eight boys playing football (soccer) with a dirty stuffed animal. One boy kicked it at me; I stepped around and carried on. The boys followed us, “Watch your wallet,” I whispered to Con. A few ran ahead of us, some behind, and one directly beside me who threw the stuffed animal like a baseball pitch, into the side of my face, and ran off. I picked it up motioning that I'd pitch it back just as hard, and instead gently lobed it, returning to Con asking if his wallet was safe. It was. Continually checking behind, a block further, I gave Con a heads up, “They’re following.” We exited the narrow streets for the open road, leaving the sea to our right (picture #5). Casually glancing behind, I saw that they were closing in, and then two boys sprinted to us like lightning bolts. Neither of us were aware until one boy tried to snatch my hat off my head (he didn't get it). He skipped away, laughing at his friends who were watching, and then turned to see my reaction not expecting that I sprinted after him and Con after the other kid, who had to stop in his tracks to turn and run from Con! I chased the hat-snatching hoodlum for a block and when he turned to see if the coast was clear, he was shocked to see me closing in. He took off again, around the corner like a jack rabbit. The other boys scattered when Con chased them a half block. I know, you’re wondering what I would have done if I’d caught the kid. Me too. We continued checking for them expecting that they'd return with their bigger brothers and uncles.
That afternoon, we toured the Aragonese Castle which rises out of the sea on the edge of the old city. It was a 90-minute tour of the “impenetrable fortress” totally in Italian! The Italian navy are the custodians of the fortress and offer the tours. (Pictured #3 & 5.)
Our TIM internet package was screwed up somehow and the 30 GB we purchased in Gallipoli apparently was registered as a 1 GB package. On our last day in Taranto, we bused to a TIM store to have it corrected. Odd how some cell phone companies consistently screw up their business.
Taranto, (pictured above) the city with two seas was once said to be the most polluted city in Western Europe. For 67 euro (including power, water, and WiFi ashore) we tied up for two nights. The water was clear and wonderful, but not long ago, an iron foundry released an extraordinary amount of toxic waste, so much that the owners were sent to jail, and fined beyond their ability to pay and lost the foundry. Today, it still operates only a few times a week, releasing an acceptable amount of toxins in the air. Taranto is the second largest naval base in Europe due to the natural and enormous harbour. The city is a beat-up place, but enchanting all the same. The old city is situated on land only accessible by two bridges, with a shallow area behind where millions and millions of shellfish are farmed, (pictured above) with the Gulf of Taranto on the other side (hence the city with two seas).
During Taranto's sleepy siesta time, we walked through the narrow alleyways of the old town, a pretty rough-looking neighbourhood, crumbling buildings, and gang-like-ooking men standing around. (Streets are pictured in #1 and #6.) We passed about eight boys playing football (soccer) with a dirty stuffed animal. One boy kicked it at me; I stepped around and carried on. The boys followed us, “Watch your wallet,” I whispered to Con. A few ran ahead of us, some behind, and one directly beside me who threw the stuffed animal like a baseball pitch, into the side of my face, and ran off. I picked it up motioning that I'd pitch it back just as hard, and instead gently lobed it, returning to Con asking if his wallet was safe. It was. Continually checking behind, a block further, I gave Con a heads up, “They’re following.” We exited the narrow streets for the open road, leaving the sea to our right (picture #5). Casually glancing behind, I saw that they were closing in, and then two boys sprinted to us like lightning bolts. Neither of us were aware until one boy tried to snatch my hat off my head (he didn't get it). He skipped away, laughing at his friends who were watching, and then turned to see my reaction not expecting that I sprinted after him and Con after the other kid, who had to stop in his tracks to turn and run from Con! I chased the hat-snatching hoodlum for a block and when he turned to see if the coast was clear, he was shocked to see me closing in. He took off again, around the corner like a jack rabbit. The other boys scattered when Con chased them a half block. I know, you’re wondering what I would have done if I’d caught the kid. Me too. We continued checking for them expecting that they'd return with their bigger brothers and uncles.
That afternoon, we toured the Aragonese Castle which rises out of the sea on the edge of the old city. It was a 90-minute tour of the “impenetrable fortress” totally in Italian! The Italian navy are the custodians of the fortress and offer the tours. (Pictured #3 & 5.)
Our TIM internet package was screwed up somehow and the 30 GB we purchased in Gallipoli apparently was registered as a 1 GB package. On our last day in Taranto, we bused to a TIM store to have it corrected. Odd how some cell phone companies consistently screw up their business.
June 16 -- A few days ago, we entered the shallow channel entrance to Porto Argonati, an isolated resort complex with a purpose-made marina. Very likely, we're the only live-a-boards here, the rest are luxury fishing boats and a few local sailboats. The pick-up lines were filthy, staining Con's shirt beyond cleaning. The tie-up lines are tangled so badly that the leader line tangled around our prop and the prop cutter sliced it. A diver arrived the next day. The Guardia di Finance (like the Customs, but rather finance spies) motored quietly into the marina. Their task: seek Italians with luxury yachts, and/or cars and then check their declared income tax return to see if they're hiding anything. They sidled up to me, while looking at our Canadian flag asked, "Italian?" I smiled, "No."
Above are photos from our short visit to Matera yesterday. We had a two-hour walking tour of Matera to view close up, the houses and churches carved out of stones. We drove a half hour to that town to see a dermatologist about a (bite?) on my arm that's been driving me crazy for three weeks. I woke one morning to a hard red itchier than hell welt on my inner forearm. Expecting/hoping to have it cut off, or at least borrow his scalpel to do it myself, he wrote out two prescriptions in Italian and a bill for 100 euro. While he was observing it under a magnifying glass, I asked him, "What do you see?"
He nodded solemnly, "Insects."
I freaked out, but asked calmly, "Okay, inside, under my skin. I did wonder about that. Okay, how do we get them out?"
He kept shaking his head like he felt sorry for me and picked up his iPhone, "Per favore, per favore," as he looked something up. I was bracing for a photo of the type of insect. Instead, he pulled up google translate: "Insect bite." Apparently, my body went into combat mode when a mosquito or some other bug bit me and my body created an overload of histamine rushing blood to the surface which enveloped the bite, making it a hard mass and creating an itchy sensation for three inch radius around it.
Above are photos from our short visit to Matera yesterday. We had a two-hour walking tour of Matera to view close up, the houses and churches carved out of stones. We drove a half hour to that town to see a dermatologist about a (bite?) on my arm that's been driving me crazy for three weeks. I woke one morning to a hard red itchier than hell welt on my inner forearm. Expecting/hoping to have it cut off, or at least borrow his scalpel to do it myself, he wrote out two prescriptions in Italian and a bill for 100 euro. While he was observing it under a magnifying glass, I asked him, "What do you see?"
He nodded solemnly, "Insects."
I freaked out, but asked calmly, "Okay, inside, under my skin. I did wonder about that. Okay, how do we get them out?"
He kept shaking his head like he felt sorry for me and picked up his iPhone, "Per favore, per favore," as he looked something up. I was bracing for a photo of the type of insect. Instead, he pulled up google translate: "Insect bite." Apparently, my body went into combat mode when a mosquito or some other bug bit me and my body created an overload of histamine rushing blood to the surface which enveloped the bite, making it a hard mass and creating an itchy sensation for three inch radius around it.
June 17 -- Matera and Lecce, Italy
The drive to Matera from the marina took about 40 minutes, parking was easy, 50 euro cents per hour inside a parkade, and our walking tour of the Sassi (which means stones) was about two hours. We were lead through the labyrinth of stone streets, passed housed carved out of rock mountains, churches, and more neighbourhoods. The tour was 20 euro each, and when he was finished, we paid him, he left, and we were completely lost inside the beehive of rock dwellings. Exhausted, we continued to walk up and down the paths looking for a way out, finally, 45 minutes later, we found an exit! Now in the pretty Baroque town of Lecce, we trained ourselves to stay up later so we could have dinner with the locals. Restaurants don't open for business until about 8:30 and then you're among the first to be seated. Our dinner was fabulous, however, I didn't eat the horse meat Con ordered.
The drive to Matera from the marina took about 40 minutes, parking was easy, 50 euro cents per hour inside a parkade, and our walking tour of the Sassi (which means stones) was about two hours. We were lead through the labyrinth of stone streets, passed housed carved out of rock mountains, churches, and more neighbourhoods. The tour was 20 euro each, and when he was finished, we paid him, he left, and we were completely lost inside the beehive of rock dwellings. Exhausted, we continued to walk up and down the paths looking for a way out, finally, 45 minutes later, we found an exit! Now in the pretty Baroque town of Lecce, we trained ourselves to stay up later so we could have dinner with the locals. Restaurants don't open for business until about 8:30 and then you're among the first to be seated. Our dinner was fabulous, however, I didn't eat the horse meat Con ordered.
Above: a view of a few Trulli houses; Ostuni, the White City; and the end of the Apian Way in Brindisi
June 18 -- Our first stop after leaving Lecce was Brindisi, to take a look for nostalgic purposes, since we stayed at the quay seven years ago. Con remained at the quay for six weeks, but me a few weeks less, since I went home learning of my dad's cancer. (He died a few months later, thankfully, both Con and I were able to be with him, and could be with my mom.) I'm standing in the photo above on the most strategic road which during the Roman Empire connected Brindisi on the east to Rome on the west.
Completely wind-blown from our short walk at Brindisi's water front, we drove on to the White City, Ostuni, on a hilltop with fortified walls built all around. And, as per usual, the cathedral is the main attraction, situated at the very top. We made our way to the church square and had a mid-morning coffee and watched all the people. It's a beautiful city, known for the best olive oil in the region. The olive trees we're passing along the road side are gorgeous with gnarly trunks. Imagine, they can grow for 2,000 years and could have been planted when Jesus walked the Earth!
We drove on to Martina Franca, heading into Trulli territory. The Trulli houses are the stone houses with conical roofs that were first build in the 16th century up to the late 19th century. Today, you're no longer allowed to build new Trulli's in the town of Arbelobello, because it's a UNESCO site. They were made to be broken apart quickly (like a western Indian teepee) only the Trulli style was broken to avoid taxes.
Below: the surrounding grounds of our Trulli B&B; and shots taken in Ostuni.
June 18 -- Our first stop after leaving Lecce was Brindisi, to take a look for nostalgic purposes, since we stayed at the quay seven years ago. Con remained at the quay for six weeks, but me a few weeks less, since I went home learning of my dad's cancer. (He died a few months later, thankfully, both Con and I were able to be with him, and could be with my mom.) I'm standing in the photo above on the most strategic road which during the Roman Empire connected Brindisi on the east to Rome on the west.
Completely wind-blown from our short walk at Brindisi's water front, we drove on to the White City, Ostuni, on a hilltop with fortified walls built all around. And, as per usual, the cathedral is the main attraction, situated at the very top. We made our way to the church square and had a mid-morning coffee and watched all the people. It's a beautiful city, known for the best olive oil in the region. The olive trees we're passing along the road side are gorgeous with gnarly trunks. Imagine, they can grow for 2,000 years and could have been planted when Jesus walked the Earth!
We drove on to Martina Franca, heading into Trulli territory. The Trulli houses are the stone houses with conical roofs that were first build in the 16th century up to the late 19th century. Today, you're no longer allowed to build new Trulli's in the town of Arbelobello, because it's a UNESCO site. They were made to be broken apart quickly (like a western Indian teepee) only the Trulli style was broken to avoid taxes.
Below: the surrounding grounds of our Trulli B&B; and shots taken in Ostuni.
June 19 -- Polignano a Mare
Arriving in the "Jewel of the Adriatic", Polignano a Mare, we checked into our sea-view room high on the cliff, threw open the window, (nearly literally) since its blowing like a son of a gun, and watched the starlings diving around the rocks. The hotel we're staying in has a colourful background, and being well over 1,000 years old, you can imagine its history. Pirates built a hole under the building that drops to stone steps leading to the sea for their quick getaway. While registering, we peered down through the circular glass bottom section in the floor, showing clearly the steps and the sea crashing nearby. Our mission tonight, is to wait until after 9 pm (our bed time) to go out and have dinner. This time, we'll bring our iPads for translation purposes. Sadly, Con accidentally ordered the exact same dish for lunch as he did for dinner, and to add to the disappointment, it was a lousy dish. Below: view from our room, and around the corner from our room.
Arriving in the "Jewel of the Adriatic", Polignano a Mare, we checked into our sea-view room high on the cliff, threw open the window, (nearly literally) since its blowing like a son of a gun, and watched the starlings diving around the rocks. The hotel we're staying in has a colourful background, and being well over 1,000 years old, you can imagine its history. Pirates built a hole under the building that drops to stone steps leading to the sea for their quick getaway. While registering, we peered down through the circular glass bottom section in the floor, showing clearly the steps and the sea crashing nearby. Our mission tonight, is to wait until after 9 pm (our bed time) to go out and have dinner. This time, we'll bring our iPads for translation purposes. Sadly, Con accidentally ordered the exact same dish for lunch as he did for dinner, and to add to the disappointment, it was a lousy dish. Below: view from our room, and around the corner from our room.
June 20 -- From pretty Polignano, we had no idea that we'd be risking our lives on the SS16 highway to Trani, north by 1.5 hours x 100 KPH. I apologize in advance to our Italian friends, but in all our driving experiences from Latin America, North America, through nearly every country in Europe, Asia, China, the Middle East, Australia, and New Zealand, Italians are the worst drivers we have ever encountered. We suspected it a number of years ago, but today confirms it! We generally travel at the speed limit using the right lane, and the left lane for passing. Drivers here create three lanes out of two and the SS16 doesn't have shoulders. Drivers will budge right between ours and the one in the fast lane to pass. They usually drive down the centre of any given white line never committing to one lane or another. A truck driver left about a meter between his bumper and the tourist bus in front of him both going 90 KPH. My FitBit measures heart rate, and it was high. We witnessed two cars pulled over with flat tires, a truck blew his back tire in front of us, and sadly there was an accident a few kilometres in front of us and the ambulance driver managed to get through the congestion. Sheesh.
Our drive took us to the 1,000-year-old Cathedral of Trani, but unfortunately it was closed. We had a delicious smoked salmon lunch, and then drove south on the SS16 to Monopoli to our hotel room with a pool INSIDE the room.
Below: Breakfast in Polignano and the Cathedral of Trani.
Our drive took us to the 1,000-year-old Cathedral of Trani, but unfortunately it was closed. We had a delicious smoked salmon lunch, and then drove south on the SS16 to Monopoli to our hotel room with a pool INSIDE the room.
Below: Breakfast in Polignano and the Cathedral of Trani.
June 23 -- Following a week on the road in the Puglia region of Italy, we filled ourselves up with great memories of the sights, people, and food. In Monopoli, we discovered an organic wine in a beautiful sea-side restaurant that doesn't cause us allergic reactions. For both Con and me, we have struggled with finding a wine that is sinus friendly, especially for my sensitive nose. Nearly all the wines have sulphites too high for our consumption but this one was perfect. We set a route for the winery and filled the trunk with reds, whites, and one rosé. During our week, we toured Lecce, Ostuni, Cistertino, Martina Franco, Locorondo, Alberobello, Polignano a Mare, Bari, Trani, and Monopoli. We tried the famous La Baratta cheese (similar to Buffalo but better), the Martina Franco meat, and for Con a parade of shellfish delights. Big Sky was safe and sound upon our return and we carried aboard all the wine, as well as a few large bags from the Lidl, the best of the fresh foods and specialty items that we enjoy. While storing the wine securely, I twisted my back pulling a muscle laying me low for a day or so. I'm taking muscle relaxants which should make our sail tomorrow manageable.
June 24 -- No wind this morning for our 51 NM journey to Cariati, on the west side of the Bay of Taranto, but a pleasant current and the engine delivered us at a good clip during siesta. We docked alongside the pier, behind an Austrian boat interrupting the mom, dad, young daughter, and son receiving home-school lessons. Dad and son jumped to our assistance helping tie us on, which was appreciated since my pulled back muscle hasn't healed yet. At 27.6 degree water, Con scrubbed up outside, using the fresh water to rinse.
June 25 -- The hike up to the fortified town of Cariati on the top of the hill behind the marina isn't for the faint of heart. We set off early in the morning, with a singular purpose, to try the award-winning ice cream. We did. It was good, but aren't they all. Resting up in the afternoon like Italians, we then returned up the hillside again for dinner, a three course meal with wine totally 18 euro. Walking back to our boat we spotted another boat on our lonely pier -- the Italian Guardia of Finance -- who were awaiting our return. A half hour later (by 10 pm) the paperwork and an inside inspection was completed. "Don't worry, es normal." They didn't ask how long we'd been in the EU, or for our VAT papers (European paid tax on our boat), which is a key reason to check foreign boats. Instead, they asked Con what his job was, "retired" he responded. They wrote it down. "What did you do before?" We were baffled as to why this was relevant.
The next morning, we rode the gentle breezes to Crotone, tucking easily into the marina, again all power and water included in the price, (WiFi too, but it didn't reach our location).
The heat zaps me of energy making our air conditioning systems heaven sent. Before the sun was at its fiercest and just as merchants were unlocking their doors, we headed out with shopping bags, returning with fresh fruits, including enormously delicious and sized cherries from the fruit stall, and Italian prosciutto from the butcher. We criss-crossed the streets avoiding the direct sun, and taking refuge in the shade of Crotone's imposing Castle of Charles V's fortified walls.
Below: Cariati's award-winning ice cream; the pretty town; and the climb along the way.
The next morning, we rode the gentle breezes to Crotone, tucking easily into the marina, again all power and water included in the price, (WiFi too, but it didn't reach our location).
The heat zaps me of energy making our air conditioning systems heaven sent. Before the sun was at its fiercest and just as merchants were unlocking their doors, we headed out with shopping bags, returning with fresh fruits, including enormously delicious and sized cherries from the fruit stall, and Italian prosciutto from the butcher. We criss-crossed the streets avoiding the direct sun, and taking refuge in the shade of Crotone's imposing Castle of Charles V's fortified walls.
Below: Cariati's award-winning ice cream; the pretty town; and the climb along the way.
While I filled our shopping basket, Con took photos of the goods on display in Crotone.
June 30 -- Sheltering in Le Castelle letting the winds blow out
It was a surprise entering the marina -- slowly -- as rocks are precariously strewn in the first of two entrance points. An enormous man-made wall protects the southern marina where the fishing boats reside, and a narrow canyon-like entrance leads into the yacht marina. Once an ancient quarry, a piece of the wall was taken down allowing it to fill to 3 and 4 meters depths. While the wind blew with anticipated 20-30 knot winds outside the quarry, there was barely a breath of wind inside. We tied beside a delightful English couple, Carolyn and Chris aboard "Splice" a pretty catamaran and enjoyed getting to know them. Last night, we all went to a local (the number one) restaurant in the town for a never-ending meal (that's how the Italians do it). I prepared in advance a note stating my shellfish allergies, handing it to the proprietor as English is not popular here. He made sure there were dishes just for me, as they served mostly plates prepared with shellfish.
This town is known for the impressive 14th century Argonese Castle, the namesake of its name, "Le Castella". It's situated on a rocky island overlooking the Ionian coast once further away from land, but the Med waters have risen since.
By the second afternoon in Le Castelle, friends Frank and Barbara aboard "Destiny" arrived and moored on the other side of us. We met them at our last port, Crotone.
Below, friends from either side of our boat in Le Castella: Frank and Barbara; Chris (in blue) and Carol beside me. The first row shows the impressive castle, and the marina built from an ancient quarry. The rest are shots from the castle and photos when we were aboard Chris and Carol's catamaran, "Splice."
It was a surprise entering the marina -- slowly -- as rocks are precariously strewn in the first of two entrance points. An enormous man-made wall protects the southern marina where the fishing boats reside, and a narrow canyon-like entrance leads into the yacht marina. Once an ancient quarry, a piece of the wall was taken down allowing it to fill to 3 and 4 meters depths. While the wind blew with anticipated 20-30 knot winds outside the quarry, there was barely a breath of wind inside. We tied beside a delightful English couple, Carolyn and Chris aboard "Splice" a pretty catamaran and enjoyed getting to know them. Last night, we all went to a local (the number one) restaurant in the town for a never-ending meal (that's how the Italians do it). I prepared in advance a note stating my shellfish allergies, handing it to the proprietor as English is not popular here. He made sure there were dishes just for me, as they served mostly plates prepared with shellfish.
This town is known for the impressive 14th century Argonese Castle, the namesake of its name, "Le Castella". It's situated on a rocky island overlooking the Ionian coast once further away from land, but the Med waters have risen since.
By the second afternoon in Le Castelle, friends Frank and Barbara aboard "Destiny" arrived and moored on the other side of us. We met them at our last port, Crotone.
Below, friends from either side of our boat in Le Castella: Frank and Barbara; Chris (in blue) and Carol beside me. The first row shows the impressive castle, and the marina built from an ancient quarry. The rest are shots from the castle and photos when we were aboard Chris and Carol's catamaran, "Splice."
Below are pictures a Japanese cruiser who arrived in Le Castella just after Frank and Barbara. He kindly took pictures of our boats and mailed them to me.
July 4 -- In Catania, Sicily
Today was our longest sail of the season, 84.2 NM from southern Italy to Catania, Italy. We sailed for a bit but mostly motor-sailed with not much traffic, not counting the half dozen dolphins who came to swim at the bow as we motored 7.5 knots.
Today was our longest sail of the season, 84.2 NM from southern Italy to Catania, Italy. We sailed for a bit but mostly motor-sailed with not much traffic, not counting the half dozen dolphins who came to swim at the bow as we motored 7.5 knots.
Below: The setting sun in Syracuse, Sicily; the rising sun in Roccella Ionica, Southern Italy
July 7 -- Syracuse
Before entering the big protective Syracuse harbour whether for anchor, the quay, or to the marina, you must call VHF 16 to make the announcement and state your intentions with the Port Authorities or face a large fine. This is a new guideline since we'd visited Syracuse about five years ago, but luckily we learned this valuable bit of information before arrival. The Port Authorities answered promptly, took down our details and invited us to berth at the quay. It's free, except for a mandatory 10 euro garbage collection fee. There's no electricity or water, but that doesn't trouble us. Where can you stay in such a historically beautiful ancient fortress city for such a price tag and in the middle of July! Syracuse is 2,700 years old, originally a Greek city and is absolutely breathtaking.
Before entering the big protective Syracuse harbour whether for anchor, the quay, or to the marina, you must call VHF 16 to make the announcement and state your intentions with the Port Authorities or face a large fine. This is a new guideline since we'd visited Syracuse about five years ago, but luckily we learned this valuable bit of information before arrival. The Port Authorities answered promptly, took down our details and invited us to berth at the quay. It's free, except for a mandatory 10 euro garbage collection fee. There's no electricity or water, but that doesn't trouble us. Where can you stay in such a historically beautiful ancient fortress city for such a price tag and in the middle of July! Syracuse is 2,700 years old, originally a Greek city and is absolutely breathtaking.
July 9 -- To Malta
Rising early, we departed our anchorage in Portopalo on the south east corner of Sicily, an anchorage we've enjoyed before only this time we didn't snag a lobster trap with our anchor as we did a few years ago. Enjoying a relaxing, quiet stay "on the hook" we swam in 27.7 degree blue waters. Waking early -- super early (2 am for Con and 4 am for me) we discussed our next month deciding we would like to return to see the grand kids and kids in Canada for a few weeks and let the hot Mediterranean sun do its thing without us. Con booked us to Calgary July 23rd and now we're on our way to the small island south of Sicily, Malta where we'll be tourists again for a few weeks, and wrap Big Sky up for the hot month of August where she'll stay in the water.
Below, a sailboat playing cat and mouse with a super-sized freighter.
Rising early, we departed our anchorage in Portopalo on the south east corner of Sicily, an anchorage we've enjoyed before only this time we didn't snag a lobster trap with our anchor as we did a few years ago. Enjoying a relaxing, quiet stay "on the hook" we swam in 27.7 degree blue waters. Waking early -- super early (2 am for Con and 4 am for me) we discussed our next month deciding we would like to return to see the grand kids and kids in Canada for a few weeks and let the hot Mediterranean sun do its thing without us. Con booked us to Calgary July 23rd and now we're on our way to the small island south of Sicily, Malta where we'll be tourists again for a few weeks, and wrap Big Sky up for the hot month of August where she'll stay in the water.
Below, a sailboat playing cat and mouse with a super-sized freighter.
July 16 – Melting in Malta
Last week, the temperatures hover around 30-33 without a skiff of wind. Today’s cooler breeze is welcome. Malta is a unique country, of 445,000 people all packed into a 122 square miles in southern Europe, just north of Libya, east of Tunisia, south of Sicily. It’s still in the EU and in Schengen which is good and bad – for us. Still within the Schengen countries means that we can’t get a break on our 90-days allowed, but the good news is that an agreement has been made between the Schengen countries to honour cell phone plans and not charge roaming fees!
They say trouble arrives in threes. That’s true for us at the moment. We’ve purchased a two-month contract at the new Marina di Valletta, and called in for repair professionals from the top of the boat to the bottom. 1. The furling jib forestay (wire) has untwisted and now our 21-meter assembly is lying on the dock in front of our boat. 2. The motor for the furling jib is in a shop for refurbishing. Con believes a bit of corrosion got in through a tiny crack in the casing. 3. (The biggest bad-news piece last) the cutless bearing has lost some of its rubber so we were advised by a hired diver who inspect our prop and shaft.
At the moment, we are checking for a boat lift so it can be replaced. It’s a 45 euro piece but likely 1000 euro to replace it! In the meantime, we are cycling around Valletta’s crazy traffic taking in the culture. Each neighbourhood celebrates their favourite saint by shooting off fireworks that starts about 6 pm. Without fail, the cannons fire, along with more fireworks at 8 am. Last night, we cycled to the Cathedral where the traditional macho event of running up a greased pole for a flag was taking place.
Last week, the temperatures hover around 30-33 without a skiff of wind. Today’s cooler breeze is welcome. Malta is a unique country, of 445,000 people all packed into a 122 square miles in southern Europe, just north of Libya, east of Tunisia, south of Sicily. It’s still in the EU and in Schengen which is good and bad – for us. Still within the Schengen countries means that we can’t get a break on our 90-days allowed, but the good news is that an agreement has been made between the Schengen countries to honour cell phone plans and not charge roaming fees!
They say trouble arrives in threes. That’s true for us at the moment. We’ve purchased a two-month contract at the new Marina di Valletta, and called in for repair professionals from the top of the boat to the bottom. 1. The furling jib forestay (wire) has untwisted and now our 21-meter assembly is lying on the dock in front of our boat. 2. The motor for the furling jib is in a shop for refurbishing. Con believes a bit of corrosion got in through a tiny crack in the casing. 3. (The biggest bad-news piece last) the cutless bearing has lost some of its rubber so we were advised by a hired diver who inspect our prop and shaft.
At the moment, we are checking for a boat lift so it can be replaced. It’s a 45 euro piece but likely 1000 euro to replace it! In the meantime, we are cycling around Valletta’s crazy traffic taking in the culture. Each neighbourhood celebrates their favourite saint by shooting off fireworks that starts about 6 pm. Without fail, the cannons fire, along with more fireworks at 8 am. Last night, we cycled to the Cathedral where the traditional macho event of running up a greased pole for a flag was taking place.
August 25, 2017 -- Back on the Boat in Malta
Arriving around dinner time, we exited the Valletta airport stepping into a much more pleasant temperature. Four weeks ago, we tucked ourselves into Big Sky and turned the air conditioner on to "high". While in Canada, the temperatures in Malta soared into the 40s making it pretty unbearable for even the locals. Temperatures now have dropped to a pleasant 30 degrees C in the day and mid 20s by night. We're itchin' to get going again on the sea, but must wait until Monday when we take Big Sky to one of the yards for a scheduled morning lift for hopefully just one hour, to replace the cutlass bearing on the prop. Our starboard navigation light wires have corroded and despite hiring and paying an electrician to fix it last month, it still doesn't work. We've booked a different electrician at the yard and fingers crossed, it will be in good running order for our next overnight sail. Monday afternoon, we should be sailing around Malta testing the prop and enjoying the beautiful bays.
Arriving around dinner time, we exited the Valletta airport stepping into a much more pleasant temperature. Four weeks ago, we tucked ourselves into Big Sky and turned the air conditioner on to "high". While in Canada, the temperatures in Malta soared into the 40s making it pretty unbearable for even the locals. Temperatures now have dropped to a pleasant 30 degrees C in the day and mid 20s by night. We're itchin' to get going again on the sea, but must wait until Monday when we take Big Sky to one of the yards for a scheduled morning lift for hopefully just one hour, to replace the cutlass bearing on the prop. Our starboard navigation light wires have corroded and despite hiring and paying an electrician to fix it last month, it still doesn't work. We've booked a different electrician at the yard and fingers crossed, it will be in good running order for our next overnight sail. Monday afternoon, we should be sailing around Malta testing the prop and enjoying the beautiful bays.
Well, the anticipated one-hour lift to replace the cutlass bearing turned into a 9.5-hour day in the slip. Big Sky was too big for the lift, so the crew lifted as high as they could (see the middle picture where our radar is inches from the lift beam). Due to a few glitches (the mechanic used the wrong tool to extract the old cutlass bearing resulting in a 3.5-hour test of patience until he went to get another tool) and lunch seemed to take 3.5 hours, Big Sky was lowered again and purred like a baby. Despite the slowness, we'd highly recommend the yard. The best part of the experience was a chance for us to meet another Canadian couple (Jaqueline and Peter) who was having work done to their boat. We got together that night and the next day to exchange stories and begin a friendship.
September 3 — Temperatures are cooling to low 30s with a welcome cooler breeze, so we’ve ventured out as tourists. On foot, we took in the stunning town of Valletta, located up the hill behind the 500 or so year old Crusaders castle wall that has been blocking the west wind from Big Sky. We walked the circular structure watching a few die-hard sailors challenging the wind and waves billowing into the harbour from the north. It was rough. White caps or as our friend Judy calls them, white stallions covered the Mediterranean for as far as our eyes could see.
It’s Sunday, and on this busy bustling Catholic island, most everything is closed, save the tourist spots. We took in the War Museum enjoying a historic timeline of Malta’s civilization. A bit further, we found a restaurant called, “Cheeky Monkey”, who could resist? We had a delightful lunch and walked back down the equivalent of five stories to water level and to Big Sky.
It’s Sunday, and on this busy bustling Catholic island, most everything is closed, save the tourist spots. We took in the War Museum enjoying a historic timeline of Malta’s civilization. A bit further, we found a restaurant called, “Cheeky Monkey”, who could resist? We had a delightful lunch and walked back down the equivalent of five stories to water level and to Big Sky.
September 5 -- Yesterday, we joined the Maltese locals for a 1.5-hour bus ride to the Gozo ferry, and then the 25-minute ferry from Malta to the island of Gozo, (part of the Maltese archipelago of islands). This marked our last day of "touring" in Malta as we depart for Sicily in the morning. Gozo is home to the nymph Calypso in Homer's Odyssey story who held him captive for years.
Once across the water, we boarded a bus to the city of Victoria in the centre of the island to take in the ancient ruins of the beautiful citadel, a magnificent legacy of the days of the Knights of the Order of St. John. The panoramic views of the city were stunning. We wondered around for a few hours enjoying the cooler breezes with temperatures in the 30s.
Once across the water, we boarded a bus to the city of Victoria in the centre of the island to take in the ancient ruins of the beautiful citadel, a magnificent legacy of the days of the Knights of the Order of St. John. The panoramic views of the city were stunning. We wondered around for a few hours enjoying the cooler breezes with temperatures in the 30s.
September 8, 2017 -- Marsala Chicken in Marsala, Sicily
We untied from Valletta, nearly two months after checking into the new marina, Marina di Valletta, situated under the Knights of St. John's castle. One of those months we spent with our Canadian family while Big Sky floated in the harbour waters with temperatures soaring into the 40s. It took 24 hours marina to marina -- Valletta to Marsala, Sicily. Without wind, our sails didn't see any action and Big Sky glided smoothly over a quiet sea. No dolphins or whales, however, we did see one flying fish. Our journey under a full moon was like having a street lamp over our boat. At sunset, the sky to the west filled in every conceivable colour of orange as the enormous fire ball sunk into the sea. A moment later to the east, an giant moon rose out of the sea. As it lifted, it became distorted as if spilling fire into the sea. Sharing two-hour night watches, we arrived in Marsala somewhat refreshed and walked into the small Italian city. Planting ourselves under a big umbrella in the centre square, we enjoyed a cappuccino and freshly squeezed orange juice and watched the people. The young Italian women are petite, well dressed and have beautiful long hair.
On return to Big Sky, we picked up chicken breasts, mushrooms, and sweet Marsala wine. By 2 pm, we were enjoying a delicious dish of Marsala Chicken. The Marsala marina harbour has a few different operators all beckoning cruisers over. We'd communicated in advance by email finding the best rate at Polaris, with WiFi, electricity, and water included in our price. Tomorrow, we collect our car rental and will tour the final spots on Sicily that we have not seen.
Below: Our road trip to western Sicily starting on the train to pick up our car, then to the town of Erice. Far top right is a view of Trapani from Erice.
We untied from Valletta, nearly two months after checking into the new marina, Marina di Valletta, situated under the Knights of St. John's castle. One of those months we spent with our Canadian family while Big Sky floated in the harbour waters with temperatures soaring into the 40s. It took 24 hours marina to marina -- Valletta to Marsala, Sicily. Without wind, our sails didn't see any action and Big Sky glided smoothly over a quiet sea. No dolphins or whales, however, we did see one flying fish. Our journey under a full moon was like having a street lamp over our boat. At sunset, the sky to the west filled in every conceivable colour of orange as the enormous fire ball sunk into the sea. A moment later to the east, an giant moon rose out of the sea. As it lifted, it became distorted as if spilling fire into the sea. Sharing two-hour night watches, we arrived in Marsala somewhat refreshed and walked into the small Italian city. Planting ourselves under a big umbrella in the centre square, we enjoyed a cappuccino and freshly squeezed orange juice and watched the people. The young Italian women are petite, well dressed and have beautiful long hair.
On return to Big Sky, we picked up chicken breasts, mushrooms, and sweet Marsala wine. By 2 pm, we were enjoying a delicious dish of Marsala Chicken. The Marsala marina harbour has a few different operators all beckoning cruisers over. We'd communicated in advance by email finding the best rate at Polaris, with WiFi, electricity, and water included in our price. Tomorrow, we collect our car rental and will tour the final spots on Sicily that we have not seen.
Below: Our road trip to western Sicily starting on the train to pick up our car, then to the town of Erice. Far top right is a view of Trapani from Erice.
September 10, 2017 -- Road trip through western Sicily
Our three-day car rental began yesterday with a train ride to a remote area to collect our 10 euro a day Nissan Micro car. In Marsala, the rental asking price was 68 euro per day. First stop, Erice, a medieval town 750 metres above the port of Trapani. For 15 euro each we received a pass to every impressive site including the 16th century cathedral, up the tower for a panoramic look, and Castella di Venere, the 12th century Norman castle. The fortress dates back to the Greek and Phoenician times.
Our three-day car rental began yesterday with a train ride to a remote area to collect our 10 euro a day Nissan Micro car. In Marsala, the rental asking price was 68 euro per day. First stop, Erice, a medieval town 750 metres above the port of Trapani. For 15 euro each we received a pass to every impressive site including the 16th century cathedral, up the tower for a panoramic look, and Castella di Venere, the 12th century Norman castle. The fortress dates back to the Greek and Phoenician times.
Trying to out run the anticipated high winds and rain, we drove on to Segeste, where a nearly perfect 416 BC Doric Temple resides in a glorious spot in the countryside. A 2 KM bus ride to the summit exposed the 3rd century Greek theatre, which is still used today for summer performances.
Our next stop was the Gulfo di Castellemmare, translated: "Sea fortress of the gulf". It's another beautiful medieval town. We selected a table with a spectacular sea view and Con enjoyed his favourite dish, vongole. (Pictured below)
That night, we booked into a converted convent for a swim and comfy sleep.
That night, we booked into a converted convent for a swim and comfy sleep.
The wind had finally arrived, blowing an estimated 40+ knots (75 kph). Dry dirt blew into every orphases. We had to hold on wherever we could so we wouldn't be blown over. Then the rain arrived. "wet is wet" we always say to grand daughter Hailey, so we continued touring. We enjoyed lunch, at a sea-side town of Selinute, despite being covered in red sand/mud splotches. Selinute was a powerful Greek colony falling into ruin after the Carthaginian raids of 409 BC and 250 BC.
With the wind gaining strength, we returned to Big Sky to keep a close watch. Wind climbed peaking at gusts of 45 knots (83 kph) and blew throughout the night. That was child's play compared to what arrived at 11:30 am Monday morning!
September 12, 2017 -- The wind arrived with a fury!
A northwest wind began picked up at 11:30 am to 45 knots with gusts in the 50s and by 2 pm, we had a steady 50 - 54 knot winds. We captured a gust of 60.5 (112.5 KPH) on the camera. It's anticipated to remain blowing until 6 pm tonight. White caps are developing in the harbour and Big Sky is on a constant heel, with the white caps bashing into our starboard side. We're remaining aboard for the ride.
Below: our two days touring western Sicily by car.
A northwest wind began picked up at 11:30 am to 45 knots with gusts in the 50s and by 2 pm, we had a steady 50 - 54 knot winds. We captured a gust of 60.5 (112.5 KPH) on the camera. It's anticipated to remain blowing until 6 pm tonight. White caps are developing in the harbour and Big Sky is on a constant heel, with the white caps bashing into our starboard side. We're remaining aboard for the ride.
Below: our two days touring western Sicily by car.
September 13 -- Last day in Marsala
Finally, the wind died sometime in the wee hours of the morning a few nights ago, thankfully. The winds had caused white caps in the marina. We took advantage of our last day with the car rental and drove to Trapani, a short distance from Marsala with a stop at the Salt Pans where sea salt has been mined for centuries.
Finally, the wind died sometime in the wee hours of the morning a few nights ago, thankfully. The winds had caused white caps in the marina. We took advantage of our last day with the car rental and drove to Trapani, a short distance from Marsala with a stop at the Salt Pans where sea salt has been mined for centuries.
September 14-15-- Untying from the filthy waters in the Marsala Marina, Sicily, we motored to Sardinia, a 23.5-hour journey, and dropped anchor in crystal-clear waters. With the winds attacking the western side of Sicily, an incredible amount of plastic and debris made its way into the marina. It's a shame the harbour litter isn't taken care of as we witness the opposite in so many other places. The 116 NM journey was at times rough, but without the desired wind that sail.
Vacationers are in full swing in this little corner of Sardinia where white sand wraps around the bay. Remnants of a castle tower sits high in the hill at the entrance to the bay. Con went for a swim the moment the anchor was secure.
Below: a mini look at our anchorage and the blue dot marks our GPS location on the map.
Vacationers are in full swing in this little corner of Sardinia where white sand wraps around the bay. Remnants of a castle tower sits high in the hill at the entrance to the bay. Con went for a swim the moment the anchor was secure.
Below: a mini look at our anchorage and the blue dot marks our GPS location on the map.
September 17 – Sardinia the second largest island in the Med
In case you’re wondering, Sicily is the largest island in the Med and both Sardinia and Sicily are Italian. It’s west of Sicily and north of Tunisia, Africa. Happy to settle following our 24-hour journey from Sicily, we dropped anchor a beautiful bay on the south east side of Sardinia and enjoyed the sunshine, blue clear and calm waters. As night began to move in, so did the swell from the south. We endured the worst night at anchor in our 10 years aboard but knew leaving in the dark wasn’t wise. The island has many unchartered rocky out crops, we know having jammed our keel in one on the north end of the island a few years ago. A gracious neighbour in a motor boat pulled us off, but that’s another story. Back to our worst night at anchor… Big Sky was anchored close to the beach, but Bruce, our 50 kg never-fail anchor has never slipped. As the waves mounted, our snuffer (the short line holding the chain to free the weight off the winch) kept slipping off and the anchor was being yanked out at the winch. Con rigged the chain with a line solving that problem, all the while the bow was lifting high and slamming down. No sooner had he solved that problem, he was at the helm securing it tight with another line. The wave action was sending the rudder slamming back and forth with great force. Meanwhile, I secured everything down inside, because if it was standing, it was knocked over, including the heavy captain’s chair. The wind changed and now the waves were hitting us broadside causing our 30-ton boat to bob back and forth like a rubber duck. Sunrise couldn’t come fast enough. Despite the nasty darkening storm sky, once the first crack of dawn showed itself, we were out of there. Motoring into a head wind, blowing 25-30 knots, we entered Cagliari at 11 am, and tied securely in one of the marinas. Con and I scrubbed the salt off Big Sky and by 8:30 pm fell into bed exhausted. By 9 pm, the skies crackled and shook with thunder and lightning and finally it opened dumping Sahara Desert filled rain drops topside. Hey! For every bad day, there are a hundred and one great, fantastic, awesome days. Arriving in Cagliari, we reconnected with friends Mary and Rick aboard Ocean Dreams moored across the pier from us.
In case you’re wondering, Sicily is the largest island in the Med and both Sardinia and Sicily are Italian. It’s west of Sicily and north of Tunisia, Africa. Happy to settle following our 24-hour journey from Sicily, we dropped anchor a beautiful bay on the south east side of Sardinia and enjoyed the sunshine, blue clear and calm waters. As night began to move in, so did the swell from the south. We endured the worst night at anchor in our 10 years aboard but knew leaving in the dark wasn’t wise. The island has many unchartered rocky out crops, we know having jammed our keel in one on the north end of the island a few years ago. A gracious neighbour in a motor boat pulled us off, but that’s another story. Back to our worst night at anchor… Big Sky was anchored close to the beach, but Bruce, our 50 kg never-fail anchor has never slipped. As the waves mounted, our snuffer (the short line holding the chain to free the weight off the winch) kept slipping off and the anchor was being yanked out at the winch. Con rigged the chain with a line solving that problem, all the while the bow was lifting high and slamming down. No sooner had he solved that problem, he was at the helm securing it tight with another line. The wave action was sending the rudder slamming back and forth with great force. Meanwhile, I secured everything down inside, because if it was standing, it was knocked over, including the heavy captain’s chair. The wind changed and now the waves were hitting us broadside causing our 30-ton boat to bob back and forth like a rubber duck. Sunrise couldn’t come fast enough. Despite the nasty darkening storm sky, once the first crack of dawn showed itself, we were out of there. Motoring into a head wind, blowing 25-30 knots, we entered Cagliari at 11 am, and tied securely in one of the marinas. Con and I scrubbed the salt off Big Sky and by 8:30 pm fell into bed exhausted. By 9 pm, the skies crackled and shook with thunder and lightning and finally it opened dumping Sahara Desert filled rain drops topside. Hey! For every bad day, there are a hundred and one great, fantastic, awesome days. Arriving in Cagliari, we reconnected with friends Mary and Rick aboard Ocean Dreams moored across the pier from us.
September 19 -- Shopping at the fresh market
Last night, we caught up with Rick and Mary over dinner at our place, always a fun time meeting up with friends. In the morning, with purpose, we rode our bikes through the beautiful Italian capital city, Cagliari to the awesome fresh market, Mercato di San Benedetto picking up two backpacks full of tempting Italian foods. We purchased sour cream the other day thinking it was yogurt. No problem, today were making beef stroganoff. Winds are mounting again, as I type, we're experiencing gusts of 40 knots. Glad to be behind the big breakwater. Curious observation: Cagliari is crowded with black migrants attempting to make a living here. They crowd the parking lots collecting fees for something, but we haven't figured it out yet. Many live there. Men stand on street corners selling strange little trinkets, and some are begging outside coffee shops and grocery stores. No migrant women. Will they fit into this society? Tough way to live especially with winter coming.
Last night, we caught up with Rick and Mary over dinner at our place, always a fun time meeting up with friends. In the morning, with purpose, we rode our bikes through the beautiful Italian capital city, Cagliari to the awesome fresh market, Mercato di San Benedetto picking up two backpacks full of tempting Italian foods. We purchased sour cream the other day thinking it was yogurt. No problem, today were making beef stroganoff. Winds are mounting again, as I type, we're experiencing gusts of 40 knots. Glad to be behind the big breakwater. Curious observation: Cagliari is crowded with black migrants attempting to make a living here. They crowd the parking lots collecting fees for something, but we haven't figured it out yet. Many live there. Men stand on street corners selling strange little trinkets, and some are begging outside coffee shops and grocery stores. No migrant women. Will they fit into this society? Tough way to live especially with winter coming.
September 23 -- 15 K Bike ride
On our trusty fold-up bikes we cycled through the bird sanctuary to one of the most beautiful beaches in Europe, but Sardinia has so many of them. Following a route on our Google maps we passed the Lidl and entered the town from the north, risking life and limb on a freeway/highway without shoulders!
Above, fish of all sizes circle our boat throughout the day. Con thought they were hiding from the dolphins who enter the marina hunting for their next meal. Today, five dolphins came in jumping and swirling in front of us enjoying a dinner feast. The marinara said, they'll come at night too, and bump your boat to get to the fish that try to hide there.
Last night, we enjoyed a feast too. For 10 euro, the marina staff put on a Sardinian barbecue. It didn't start until 8:30, and then for the next three hours meal after meal arrived, and all the wine you could drink. The anti pasta course was too numerous to mention; followed by sausages; thin pork chops; whole fish (head, tail, and guts); sardines; sweets; and sweet Sardinian liquours. There was one table of live-a-boards, and five tables of locals (who likely keep their boat in the marina); and plenty of fabulous hospitality, sharing, and merriment. I have to share that the locals dug into the eye of the fish first, as it's the best part (according to them). Unfortunately, I was not that adventurous and left my fish's eye intact.
On our trusty fold-up bikes we cycled through the bird sanctuary to one of the most beautiful beaches in Europe, but Sardinia has so many of them. Following a route on our Google maps we passed the Lidl and entered the town from the north, risking life and limb on a freeway/highway without shoulders!
Above, fish of all sizes circle our boat throughout the day. Con thought they were hiding from the dolphins who enter the marina hunting for their next meal. Today, five dolphins came in jumping and swirling in front of us enjoying a dinner feast. The marinara said, they'll come at night too, and bump your boat to get to the fish that try to hide there.
Last night, we enjoyed a feast too. For 10 euro, the marina staff put on a Sardinian barbecue. It didn't start until 8:30, and then for the next three hours meal after meal arrived, and all the wine you could drink. The anti pasta course was too numerous to mention; followed by sausages; thin pork chops; whole fish (head, tail, and guts); sardines; sweets; and sweet Sardinian liquours. There was one table of live-a-boards, and five tables of locals (who likely keep their boat in the marina); and plenty of fabulous hospitality, sharing, and merriment. I have to share that the locals dug into the eye of the fish first, as it's the best part (according to them). Unfortunately, I was not that adventurous and left my fish's eye intact.
September 24 - October 1 Sardinia to the Balearic Islands
Our 203 NM 30-hour overnight trek from Carloforte to Cap de Ferrutx, Menorca was nearly as good as it can get, despite hitting something hard and loud under sail during the darkest hours of the night. No more than six ships showed on our radar in the night and in the wide open sea, one came within a quarter mile from us. We sailed a third of the way, motor-sailed a third, and motored the final third dropping anchor behind the Cap in Menorca (pictured above). The houses on Menorca are all White reminding us of the Greek Cyclades with a twist, here many are mansions and the hillsides are luscious and green. The next day, we motored over a smooth sea dropping anchor for the night in Mallorca. With overcast skies, we set sail crossing the large northeast bay heading to Puerto de Sóller hoping to beat the weather system expected Oct. 2. Our night had been peaceful and calm, exactly the opposite of what was to come. Cozy in our winter house, we let out our sails and began the six-hour journey. The waves splashed topside and we heeled to port. Nearing Cap Formentor named by the Mallorcians, “Meeting point of the winds” we furled sails in anticipation. The winds followed us from behind us so we slugged through the vicious sea rocking side to side. This was the most northern point of the Balearic Islands and the lighthouse 384 meters above sat lonely on the edge of the precipitous cliff. Built in 1863, materials arrived by sea and mule track up. The one and two-meter waves were relentless, trying to annoy Big Sky. Instead, it sent books, plants, and other helpless objects flying. This was our roughest journey this year. Clean up had to wait, so we rolled with the waves viewing the spectacular rugged coastline. Once tied on the public dock, we set off for a Spanish meal still rocking in our chairs.
Our 203 NM 30-hour overnight trek from Carloforte to Cap de Ferrutx, Menorca was nearly as good as it can get, despite hitting something hard and loud under sail during the darkest hours of the night. No more than six ships showed on our radar in the night and in the wide open sea, one came within a quarter mile from us. We sailed a third of the way, motor-sailed a third, and motored the final third dropping anchor behind the Cap in Menorca (pictured above). The houses on Menorca are all White reminding us of the Greek Cyclades with a twist, here many are mansions and the hillsides are luscious and green. The next day, we motored over a smooth sea dropping anchor for the night in Mallorca. With overcast skies, we set sail crossing the large northeast bay heading to Puerto de Sóller hoping to beat the weather system expected Oct. 2. Our night had been peaceful and calm, exactly the opposite of what was to come. Cozy in our winter house, we let out our sails and began the six-hour journey. The waves splashed topside and we heeled to port. Nearing Cap Formentor named by the Mallorcians, “Meeting point of the winds” we furled sails in anticipation. The winds followed us from behind us so we slugged through the vicious sea rocking side to side. This was the most northern point of the Balearic Islands and the lighthouse 384 meters above sat lonely on the edge of the precipitous cliff. Built in 1863, materials arrived by sea and mule track up. The one and two-meter waves were relentless, trying to annoy Big Sky. Instead, it sent books, plants, and other helpless objects flying. This was our roughest journey this year. Clean up had to wait, so we rolled with the waves viewing the spectacular rugged coastline. Once tied on the public dock, we set off for a Spanish meal still rocking in our chairs.
October -- In the dark shadows of predawn, we took our exit from Puerto de Soller, Mallorca for a full day on the sea arriving in Ibiza -- the party island. It was tricky pulling out of our slip on Mallorca in the pitch black night, slowly edging around the fuel dock, the buoy marking the shallow area, and the many boats at anchor dotting the harbour. Some were sailboats with anchor lights and some were zodiacs without lights. The two lighthouses marking the natural harbour left eerie light streaks on the water as their circulating light shone into the harbour, against the rugged rocks, and then out to sea. Once we were out of the harbour I could see a few blips on the radar in our path. Fishing boats. The moon was just setting, leaving an orange light to the west and behind us the sun was rising showing off brighter orange colours.
The winds were just right and for a good portion of the journey and we were able to sail. Despite Ibiza having a number of discos on every street, with our windows closed, we slept soundly. Reluctantly, we made our departure from the Balearic Islands for the mainland, getting ever closer to our winter destination, marking the end of the sailing season. Our aim however, was a new town for us, Calpe, south of Denia, a beach-side city with a seven-mile shoreline of white sandy beach. A massive-sized limestone outcrop sits 332-meters high jutting out of the sea, halfway between an island and Calpe, linked by rock debris. Once docked in the delightful marina, Con pulled out our bikes out of the stern locker and we rode up and down the promenade, to the magnificent rock, and of course, to the Lidl. More than 80 species of birds make home on the rocks including peregrine falcons, cormorants, song birds, and sea gulls who to our mind appeared to be in charge. Two serious mountain climbers passed us with ropes and pitons. Not the way I'd like to spend a Friday afternoon. Instead, we locked up our bikes, laid our towels on the sand, and while I guarded the wallet and camera, Con went for a long swim. The beaches are still very full of locals and tourists.
The winds were just right and for a good portion of the journey and we were able to sail. Despite Ibiza having a number of discos on every street, with our windows closed, we slept soundly. Reluctantly, we made our departure from the Balearic Islands for the mainland, getting ever closer to our winter destination, marking the end of the sailing season. Our aim however, was a new town for us, Calpe, south of Denia, a beach-side city with a seven-mile shoreline of white sandy beach. A massive-sized limestone outcrop sits 332-meters high jutting out of the sea, halfway between an island and Calpe, linked by rock debris. Once docked in the delightful marina, Con pulled out our bikes out of the stern locker and we rode up and down the promenade, to the magnificent rock, and of course, to the Lidl. More than 80 species of birds make home on the rocks including peregrine falcons, cormorants, song birds, and sea gulls who to our mind appeared to be in charge. Two serious mountain climbers passed us with ropes and pitons. Not the way I'd like to spend a Friday afternoon. Instead, we locked up our bikes, laid our towels on the sand, and while I guarded the wallet and camera, Con went for a long swim. The beaches are still very full of locals and tourists.
Caught in a massive downpour in Calpe while on our bikes.
October 7 -- Be Careful What You Wish For
Arriving in Calpe with a life-time of sea salt topsides, we opted for the lazy way to wash the boat, and it didn't disappoint. The rain fell in rivers from the sky this morning, and once we believed it had passed, we cycled to the fresh-air market. Ten minutes after locking up the bikes, the sky opened. Moving on to the Lidl when the sky let up a bit, we took our time hoping the rain would pass, but instead it became monsoon like. "Wet is wet," so we mounted our bikes and rode through the streets. One street was quickly becoming a river with the manhole covers bubbling up and popping off, with an awful sewage stench filling our nostrils. We rode down the centre of the street hoping to avoid falling in the holes! Rounding the corner with the marina in sight, I thought, this is a kid's dream!
Arriving in Calpe with a life-time of sea salt topsides, we opted for the lazy way to wash the boat, and it didn't disappoint. The rain fell in rivers from the sky this morning, and once we believed it had passed, we cycled to the fresh-air market. Ten minutes after locking up the bikes, the sky opened. Moving on to the Lidl when the sky let up a bit, we took our time hoping the rain would pass, but instead it became monsoon like. "Wet is wet," so we mounted our bikes and rode through the streets. One street was quickly becoming a river with the manhole covers bubbling up and popping off, with an awful sewage stench filling our nostrils. We rode down the centre of the street hoping to avoid falling in the holes! Rounding the corner with the marina in sight, I thought, this is a kid's dream!
Below, our October sail from the Spanish Balearic Islands to Calpe on the Spanish mainland.