Trip on Aremiti starting 2013-09-01
Newsletter from Aremiti on September 2013, Skipper Chris Wallace First Mate Julia Wallace.
This month has been the most sociable of the summer but also the most testing in terms of weather. We were hugely pleased , after the debacle of last year when we were unable to make rendezvous planned with friends, that we succeeded in meeting first Maggie and Bob, then Jean, exactly where and when planned. Unfortunately, we didn’t manage to provide very good weather for them. Even before we left Sardinia at the end of August the weather had begun to have an end of summer feel to it and for much of September we experienced a temperamental period of squally thunderstorms interspersed with bouts of summer sunshine.
We covered 494 miles this month, bringing our total for the year to 1,973.
There were the usual dilemmas and compromises over the timing of the 155 mile passage
from Sardinia to Sicily – not enough wind when we wanted to leave, but strong adverse
winds due to kick in for several days imminently. We needed to get going not only to
make our rendezvous in Sicily but also because our timetable was now inexorably heading
towards our winter destination. We opted to leave early and move fast to get in before
the dread easterlies. Leaving at 4.45am we kept up a good pace – accompanied by a long
bank of angry looking clouds. We saw little shipping, but overnight observed a
mysterious and scary set of lights which suddenly appeared – seven in all – and then
just as suddenly disappeared. Difficult to gauge how far off they were, we checked on
radar but could find nothing. No one was able to suggest what these might have been –
but they were extremely disconcerting. Having made very good time, we then realised that
we were going to arrive too early, wanting to make our approach in daylight, not being
sure what we might encounter in the way of fishing activity off the Egadi Islands (north
west of Sicily). However, it was still dark as we approached the western-most island –
Marettimo
– when we were hit by a massive lightening squall with 30 knots of wind and
torrential rain. Feeling like a sitting duck – the highest point for miles around – we
put as much of our electronic equipment into the oven (Faraday cage) as possible. Not
the most comfortable landfall – we found a reasonably protected inlet on the island of
Favignana
where we anchored and fell asleep. We woke to find ourselves in bright
sunshine, surrounded by a fleet of small boats at anchor – their crews roasting in the
sun.
We had little idea what to expect of Sicily – but anticipated it might be a tougher
environment than the gentle cruising we had enjoyed in the Balearics and Sardinia. This
proved right – anchorages were fewer and less secure or comfortable, and marinas were
rough and ready and charging exorbitant prices. It seemed the
fewer facilities provided, the more was charged. This was certainly true of the 'marina'
in Favignana town
which charged 60 euros for no water, no electricity and no showers.
However, the town, overlooked by a hilltop fortress, was fascinating with its busy
fishing harbour and museum of tuna processing. The economy of the Egadi Islands was
based on the tuna industry – interesting but gory, and now thankfully stopped – though
this had led to a sad decline in the population and economy of the islands.
While in Favignana Julia received news that her 93 year old father was very ill, so we
set off immediately for Trapani a few miles to the east on the mainland of Sicily to
make arrangements for a visit home for a few days.Bob Hayes and Maggie arrived while Julia
was away – and amply took her place as crew. Here is Bob's report:
In early September Maggie (who last dinghy sailed with me 30 years ago) and I went sailing the north coast of Sicily with Julia and Chris in their yacht Aremiti.
Day 1: - We flew from Gatwick to Palermo, then after a 60 minute coach journey we met up with Chris and Aremiti in Trapani - a port on the west tip of the island situated on a promontory. Aremiti was berthed in a small single pontoon marina recommended by a Sicilian skipper they had met earlier in their trip. Chris settled us in, showed us our for-peak cabin and took us on a tour of the town. The old town is constructed on a grid system and on a narrow strip of land that gave us good views of the Mediterranean on both sides. Looking inside a church we happened upon our first wedding of the trip where one of the guests collapsed in a heap, whether from heat or alcohol we could not tell. Chris then treated us to a great meal on board, risotto with fresh prawns from the fish market just outside the marina The forecast for the next day had been for the wind to change from N / NE to SE, just right for us to sail the next day. However, when Chris checked in the evening the N/NE winds were predicted to hang around for longer than originally predicted.
Day 2: - Up and ashore for breakfast of coffee and croissant. Shopping for our
evening meal, calamari looked like the best deal, so Maggie went for that. Chris,
being Chris, does all the navigation electronically - a few flicks of his fingers on
the chart-plotter and the passage for the day was planned with 4 way-points. We
slipped our lines at around 10:30 to make our way NE and then E to Capo San Vito. We
had to motor all the way and on arrival anchored outside the harbour away from the
beach as boats are banned from anchoring within 300 meters of the beach. Dinghy
down, explore ashore, very much a seaside town. Great church in an old Saracen fort,
an amazing mixture of old and new art and artefacts, most unusual. No mention of St.
Vito's dance anywhere? Back on board to gut the calamari. A fantastic evening meal,
thanks, Maggie, and to bed.
Day 3: - Coffee and croissant, shopping and ready to sail. Scopello was our
destination but we never made land. We ghosted along in the sun and a light breeze
with the dinghy in tow until we slowed to 2.5 knots when we switched the engine on.
Making ready to anchor in the shelter of two small islands Chris changed his mind
because there were too many ribs and pleasure craft in the area to get inshore close
enough. He decided to make for a beach but at this point we noticed a cloud over the
mountain ahead and a few drops of rain. We started to clear the cockpit when Chris
said “this is not going to be nice!” The heavens opened, the mountain disappeared,
the shore disappeared, the yacht ahead of us disappeared and the wind speed hit 45
knots (welcome back to sailing Maggie). Chris kept Aremiti's head into wind. Then
the thunder and lightning struck. Thunder that came with lightning that was quicker
than you can say thunder and lightning. We turned north out to sea to run from the
mini storm. After half an hour we could turn our heads back to watch. Most of the
island was hidden in the storm. The only place we could see was Capo San Vito
so we
made our way back west. On the way Chris bailed out the dinghy and we watched a
heavy squall out to sea. But it wasn't over for us. We made for our anchorage of the
night before and dropped the hook a little way further out in 10 meters depth. The
holding was good and all looked OK. As we anchored the rain came again, luckily no
wind this time. The rain was so hard it flattened the sea. When it was all over we
were wet through and the dinghy needed to be bailed out again - Chris vowed never to
tow it again! A good supper aboard and to bed. We had a peaceful night.
Day 4: - With a 20 knot wind blowing from the north west we agreed to head straight
for Terrasini almost directly to the east. It was small town, with an even smaller
harbour, but close to the airport where Julia would arrive next day, her father now
being on the mend. We sailed across the bay in good weather. As the harbour looked
too shallow we made for a group of ribs outside the harbour and anchored sea side of
them. As we did some of the younger Sicilian sea-lions and lionesses sunbathing
aboard the ribs got up to see what was gong on, but soon settled down again. Some of
the older Sicilians did really look like the sea-lions in San Francisco harbour, but
the younger ones looked in good condition! I think the continued survival of the
colony is assured. We took the dinghy ashore through the harbour which was packed
full of ribs. There could be a problem for yachts cruising this coast if they wish
to use harbours because they are so full of these ribs. We ate aboard in the
evening, watched a fabulous sunset with aircraft flying into the airport, were
treated to a firework display (must have been for someone's birthday) and a disco
that went on until 03:30!
Day 5: - The catholic church in the middle of the town retaliated to the disco with
eight rocket bombs and a peel of bells at 08:00 on the Sunday morning. We could see
the rockets and then hear the bombs two seconds later. It reminded us how close the
lightning and thunder was the day before. We went
ashore, Chris to pick up Julia, and Maggie and I to have a look around the town
which had a lovely square in front of the aforementioned church and we were treated
to the delights of a marching band. When we finished in town Julia took snaps of us
as we approached Aremiti in the dinghy and greeted us aboard. Chris set in the
passage plan for Mondello and we set off. Initially we motored but then the wind got
up enough for us to sail. I had another go on the helm and managed to get her up to
6.8 knots when, good skipper Chris suggested that I may like to sacrifice speed for
direction! Fun over, we started to beat our way towards our destination. Eventually
we had to turn the engine on to get round the headland into Mondello
. We anchored on
the east side of the bay, but were unable to find any evidence of the village until
as night fell and the lights went on. We found a very lively sea side town and had a
great meal on the balcony overlooking the harbour. The sea was flat calm for the
return journey back to Aremiti.
Day 6: - All ashore in the dinghy for coffee, croissant and shopping. We went to the
church to have a look round but there was a funeral taking place. Lots of people in
bright colours and very casual wear. A swim off the boat and then on our way to
Palermo. After anchoring among a group of two other British and one American
cruising boats between two marinas we tootled ashore, finding one very welcoming,
after being turned away from the other marina stuffed full of boats belonging to
people with loads of money. At the White Bar we were served very good cocktails at
very reasonable prices, yum. We had a very enjoyable tour around the old tuna
factory, now a swanky events venue with improbable plastic thrones! Back aboard
Julia made a very nice Salad Nicoise.
Day 7: - We upped anchor and headed first for a tour of Palermo harbour, impressive
buildings on the foreshore and beyond. It is a large sprawling city hugging the
rugged mountainous coastline. We then turned away heading for St. Nicola passing
more amazing coastline. This marina was again very shallow. Chris crept in with
about a metre under the keel. We moored bows to beyond the end of a pontoon, which
we could only access via another boat. Showers were outside and there was no water
or electricity. Pizzas were enjoyed in a restaurant garden up the hill.
Day 8: - The last day for Maggie and me. We sailed in a moderate breeze to our final
destination, Cefalu. The city can be seen in all its majesty from way out to sea. The
twin towered church rises above the medieval town underneath a massive rock. Anchoring
off the old town proved to be uncomfortable due to a lumpy sea so we moved on around the
headland anchoring for a last swim before we tied up in a marina recommended by the
Sicilian skipper Chris and Julia met in the Egadi Islands. Ashore, in town, we sat at a
bar to watch the sunset and a wedding photo-shoot arrived. The bride in white and the
guests all in black, looked more like a funeral. We all loved the town and ate in front
of the church to celebrate our last evening
After Bob and Maggie left, we remained in Cefalu for the next couple of days getting ready for our next guest Jean. We rendezvoused in the magnificent Piazza di Duomo and walked round to the anchorage. We had just met up again with the little flotilla of cruising yachts mentioned by Bob – two British and one American - and a beach barbecue was planned. This was a fun occasion – it's been a long time since we've experienced that sort of cruising camaraderie.
We approached the Aeolians with some trepidation – in view both of previous Sailing Association experience and also the rather scary impression given by the pilot book in terms of a lack of safe anchorages or ports, and gales liable to blow up out of nowhere - especially given our recent unsettled squally weather. The forecast was quite good – strong westerlies for first couple of days, calming to a force 4 - which couldn't be better for our passage through from east to west - but also predicted big swells emanating from storms to the north which could make for uncomfortable if not untenable overnight stops.
We headed first for Filicudi one of the less visited of the islands, clearly visible from
Cefalu. We had to motor most of the 40 miles without wind, starting under blue skies,
but becoming increasingly overcast and gloomy. Stromboli came into hazy view - awaiting
us and remaining a continuing beckoning presence throughout the week. Our visit to
Filicudi was something of a mixed blessing – well maybe not even mixed. We arrived to
find set of sturdy looking visitors buoys. An unfriendly ormegiatore zoomed out to place
us on one of these refusing to budge from his demand for 40 euros. We were in no
position to bargain given the forecast of strong winds overnight making this the only
secure place to be. We went ashore to the rather decrepit village – wandered along the
road for a bit finding something of a two tone economy with poverty stricken hovels side
by side with posh electronic gated properties. The island didn't exactly feel open to
visitors. We returned to the boat by which time there were 3 other visiting yachts on
the moorings – one of which was a giant charter catamaran completely dwarfing us on the
next buoy. We had a meal on board and went off to sleep but were awoken around 1.30 by
manic flapping in a howling wind. Up on deck in torrential rain, thunder and lightening
we found the gigantic cat swinging wildly around back and forth across our bow at
dangerously close quarters with a long boarding gangway rigged at its stern angled
perfectly to wipe out our forestay. Two of the hunky Norwegian crew of 8 were out in
their dinghy, bizarrely searching for a lost cushion in the teeming wind and rain.
However, once they realised our predicament they then valiantly remained on watch all
night (as did we) with their motor running, moving themselves forward every time a gust
blew them on to us. At 6.30 the rain had stopped, though it was still gusty and they
departed to our, and I am sure their, great relief. We then managed a couple of hours
sleep. We were not impressed at a system allowing the provision of buoys at a ridiculous
and arbitrary price, placed far too close to others, without any responsibility, means
of contact or redress.
By mid-morning the wind had dropped considerably and we enjoyed a pleasant run under
genny and mizzen in 15 knots just aft of the beam, across to the island of Vulcano,
passing through the Bocche di Vulcano and into the anchorage off the mud pool and sea
water springs.
We anchored on a steep shelf in 9 metres dropping back
to water 27 metres deep. The nearby crater was peacefully steaming and emitting a
permanently sulphurous odour. Ashore we explored the 'town' – a tacky collection of
tourist outlets and the famed mud pool. Jean loved it; Chris didn't fancy it! Julia
tried but didn't love it –
the warm gloop
seemed more likely to spread the ailments it was mean to cure than provide any
therapeutic effect – but the hot seawater springs were wonderful. Next morning we hiked
up to the rim of the steaming crater created in 1888 and 1890 – an awesome and very
smelly sight.
After lunch, with wind getting up again gusting to 25 knots we up-anchored, in the
process sheering the anchor shackle but luckily not losing the anchor. The wind was
still blowing strongly from the west for the 4 mile passage to Lipari. There is nowhere
to anchor off the town and so we went into one of several small marinas – very pleased
this time to be in a position to negotiate a price. Having already explored the price of
one marina by phone, we were able to reject the first we passed as being too expensive,
and to negotiate a price we liked at the next – for an alongside berth. We like
alongside berths – a rarity in the Med – because being an old fashioned boat, we have no
easy means of getting off the boat either at bow or stern. Though protected there from
the strong wind, the swell crept in – or rather surged in - causing us to snatch and
heave constantly. The town of Lipari was a delight – not least because the first sight
ashore was a little chandlery with exactly the shackle we needed to replace the one
which had just sheered. We explored the picturesque streets and old port area and
enjoyed a good meal out that evening, then visited the staggeringly comprehensive
archaeological museum the next morning.
After lunch we set off - again edging ever closer towards the goal of Stromboli. Our next
stop was Panarea, an island conveniently placed exactly half way between Lipari and
Stromboli. We motor-sailed the 12 miles with the wind unexpectedly right on the nose and
swell constantly throwing us sideways. Given the number of yachts we passed coming the
other way we seriously wondered about conditions on Panarea - however, the bay of
Milazzese on the south east corner of the island was surprisingly comfortable and quite
busy with around a dozen yachts.
Next morning we moved the 2 miles on to the little town of Scalo Ditella – tasteful and
delightful with its sparkling white buildings and colourful climbing plants. We spent a
couple of hours shopping and sipping coffee in a smart cafe, overlooking the wharf as
first the supply ship arrived causing a flurry of electric carts plying back and forth
collecting goods, and then a steady stream of trip boats delivering their hoardes.
After lunch at last it was time for the final push to mighty Stromboli itself. We enjoyed
a fast and boisterous beam reach – passing Sciara del Fuoco on the western side of the
island where eruptions occur every 20 mins or so – and have done so apparently for the
past 2,000 years. The great flank of lava hissing down to the sea was an awesome sight
and with an onshore wind, Chris suggested not a good place for the steering to fail –
which luckily it didn't! We continued round to north of island – and then down the east
side to San Vicenzo. It was far too deep to anchor, but the pilot referred to a 'buoy
field'. This turned out to be a motley collection of different looking moorings – it was
unclear whether or which were for visitors. However, there was only one left so we
attached ourselves to it (in a depth 35 metres just over 100 metres off the narrow black
beach) and waited to see what would happen. After a while a rib came out and, very
relieved to be allowed to stay put, we didn't quibble at the 35 euro charge – by then
conditioned into thinking 35 euros for a buoy is quite reasonable! After a meal on
board, we set off in the dark, leaving the dinghy on our buoy, retracing our route back
round north of island for the famed night viewing of Stromboli
– which certainly didn't
disappoint. We would have been content with the orange flickering which emanated at 20
min intervals, but were blown away by the great fiery red jet which suddenly spewed out
a couple of hundred metres high causing the lava all around to glow red threatening to
tumble down to the sea! Awesome! Overnight we observed more impressive gushings of smoke
from the crater lit up by a full moon, and in the morning we found a light covering of
volcanic ash over the boat.
Next morning we returned to Milazzo on the mainland of Sicily transfixed by the view of
Stromboli receding behind us – its classic cone shape topped by a cloud of smoke in the
by now benign clear blue skies and flat seas.
Our next challenge was the Strait of Messina – entered between the twin whirlpools of
Scylla and Charybdis. The strait at its narrowest is only 1 ½ miles wide through which
waters flow back and forth between the Tyrrhennian and the Ionian Seas – with their
different times for high water and different densities causing swirling and heaving
eddies ('bastardi') and whirlpools. All these features conspired, certainly in ancient
times, to make this a dreaded and perilous passage – from the Odyssey: “all the sea was
like a cauldron seething over intense fire when the mixture suddenly heaves and rises.”
All this is at its strongest at springs – which was exactly when we were tackling it.
Despite our calculations,
we were far too early, arriving at peak flow to find the water
dancing and swirling around and flowing at 4 knots – but we had a fast and uneventful
passage through the first section and into the marina at Messina
.
After dropping Jean off in Messina, we continued through the strait and around the toe of Italy, finally leaving Sicily with a stunning view of Etna at sunset.
After a 24 hour sail we stopped off in an anchorage just south of Crotone,
before setting
off again at 4am next morning for the final 63 miles to in the far reaches of
Calabria. We have visited Sibari before and know this to be a safe haven for Aremiti
over the winter. She is now out of the water and covered up.
We will miss her terribly.