Italy: Salerno to Capraia island.

Salerno to Capraia island.

After our visit to Paestum, we left Agropoli in the afternoon and had a good sail to arrive in Salerno  on the 20th August at 18:30. We anchored in the bay between the harbour and the marina with eight other yachts. A good night’s sleep was followed by the shock discovery the next morning that our 2.9m Highfield Hypalon dinghy with the Mercury 5hp outboard had been stolen during the night.

Bye bye dinghy and motor – without the puppy.

Unable to get to land, we managed to raise Nicola at he Azimuth marina on VHF and secure a berth. We tied up at the marina at 8am for the start of a totally insane and wasted day. First a visit to the Guardia Costiera, who pointed us to the Carabinieri (police). Here we stood in queue with two other skippers, soon to be joined by another two, who had suffered the same fate overnight.

The police assured us that it couldn’t possibly be people from Salerno who stole the dinghies, but rather the criminals from Naples, or the Sudanese refugees, or even the Germans! Either way, the police were on top of these cases and took only three hours to process our theft report which we needed for an insurance claim.

Annie took care of the police statement and obtaining a theft case number, while Michelle and I took off with the help of Google maps to look for a chandlery that might stock dinghies and outboard motors. The local agent for Highfield didn’t have any stock and the Zodiac agent only had a 3.5m long dinghy and 6hp Suzuki, which was too wide for our transom davits.

I managed to get hold of Antonio at the Highfield Italia office in Tuscany who was most helpful, but couldn’t get a replacement dinghy and motor to us for another 5 days. The local Highfield agent then contacted me to say that he knew of a one year old dinghy with a motor, that was for sale. Realising that there was a high demand for these items at that moment, Annie and I hot footed it down to the Arechi marina, 10km along the bay, to have a look at the dinghy. With two new guests on board and needing to go ashore at our various stops, we decided to buy this dinghy at our own expense, to deal with mobility until our claim was approved.

Michelle’s friend Remi arrived during this frisson and made himself handy by washing the decks, filling the water tanks and going to buy groceries, wine and beer. After a pleasant dinner at a family restaurant with lots of calming wine and good night’s sleep we motored to the Arechi marina the next morning to collect the dinghy and motor – a smaller 2.6m Highfield PVC dinghy with motor.

Amalfi.

Amalfi.

Approaching Positano – Remi and Michelle.

After filling the diesel tank at this marina, we took off straight away to leave Salerno behind as a bad memory and anchored off Amalfi at 5pm. Amalfi and Positano are two beautiful towns along this coast, with dozens of gin palaces of the rich and famous anchored just off shore. Annie, Remi and Michelle decided to go and explore Positano and I went back to Esprit to do anchor watch – the traffic on the water was hectic. Just as well, as we were about to receive a EU1,500 fine for anchoring too close to a beach. I very quickly pulled up the anchor and tootled off to anchor out in the bay.

The Guardia Costiera in their orange RIB issuing fines.

Positano from the water.

Positano town.

Positano “beach”.

According to our not so rich and famous crew, Positano was an absolute bunfight where you could hardly move along the narrow streets due to the crowds of people – not my kind of place at the height of the tourist season. We decided not to visit the island of Capri as reports indicated that there were three times the number of people thronging the island. Instead, we rounded the cape and anchored off Sorrento, which turned out to be a good choice, as it was not as crowded, quite beautiful and relaxed.

View from Sorrento across the bay of Naples – Mount Vesuvius in the background.

Annie and some Sorrento graffiti.

We ordered large cappuccinos with our croissants, but didn’t expect jumbo size.

Sorrento church.

These Vespa “trucks” are all over Italy. Aussie muscle utes eat your hearts out.

Torquato Tasso, the famous poet from Sorrento.

More Tasso – if we have a grandson, they should call him Torquato.

We visited the photo exhibition by Raffaele Celentano – fantastic.

Which also included a collection on Sophia Loren – stunning.

Art gallery above this beautiful courtyard.

Advice from the locals was that Naples would be the place to not only have your dinghy stolen, but also your boat from under you. As a result we sailed across the bay of Naples to anchor at Procida island and the beautiful town of Corricella. We explored the town the following morning and set off at lunch time to motor sail to Gaeta up the coast, where we arrived at 5:30pm.

Esprit anchored off Corricella.

Corricella town from our anchorage.

Corricella town.

Fishing boats and nets.

The girls decided that as there wasn’t much to see except power stations along the coast, until the island of Elba, we should do an overnighter. We arrived at the small island of Giannutri the following day at 5pm, having done 180nm of sailing and intermittent motor sailing.

Remi having a shower and scrub enroute.

Michelle preparing a salad Nicoise for lunch.

After a hearty breakfast, some paddle boarding and swimming, we did the last 50nm to arrive at Campo on the south coast of Elba late afternoon. On the way Remi, who is an excellent videographer, sent his drone up to take some photos and footage of Esprit. Check out:  https://youtu.be/P4xUwiSxsOo

Esprit in a light breeze.

Esprit sailing along the Tuscan coast.

Our home – loaded like a freighter.

Michelle ready for the drone to land on her hand – Remi on the controls.

It was time to replenish our water supply, so I ran the water maker to fill the 330l front tank while the young folks took our bicycles to cycle to Golfo Procchio on the north coast and then west to Fetovala on the south coast. Annie and I spent the evening walking through Campo town which is quite attractive.

Elba is the island to which Napoleon was exiled in 1814. Our route took us around the scenic west coast of Elba to Viticcio in the north, where we met other Aussie sailors. We called in to Portoferraio, before sailing across to the mainland to anchor in Livorno. The next morning, Michelle and Remi got onto the train to go walking in the Cinque Terre, before carrying on to northern Italy, where they have left Remi’s van.

Elba, Marina di Campo.

Elba, Campo harbour – walking down from the fort.

Elba – Campo street scene.

Livorno has a big harbour with ferries and cruise liners coming and going continuously, but it is a surprisingly clean and well organised city, so we stayed for three nights, getting our laundry done, buying boat spares, groceries and eating out. Approval for the purchase of a replacement dinghy and motor came through from our insurers in London, so Antonio from Highfield Italia, set the wheels in motion for his dinghy delivery in Viareggio, 20 nm to the north.

The old guys having their morning swim at the yacht club in Livorno.

Viareggio is a major manufacturing hub for some of the largest and most luxurious yachts in the world, like Perini Navi, Benetti and Lusben Craft. Walking past these yards, you realise that the amount of money involved is staggering to ordinary mortals like me and that the tenders to these super yachts probably costs more than Esprit. Viareggio also has a vast collection of public sculptures – too many to show here.

Viareggio – bronze face.

Viareggio – sowing lightning bolts?

Viareggio – a cat at the fish market.

This mortal took the opportunity to drain and replace Esprit’s engine and sail drive oil and replace the oil, fuel and water separating filters, as there is a filter and oil disposal facility available at the marina. I felt that at AUD190/day in the marina, I should fully utilise their facilities, electricity and water, which were included in their charges. We stayed for two days, as Antonio only arrived late on the second day with our new Highfield CL290 dinghy. Our next stop was in the gulf La Spezia, where we anchored in the lovely bay of Le Grazie.

La Spezia – Le Grazie bay.

La Spezia – Porto Venere.

La Spezia – Punto San Pietro.

Between the Gulf of La Spezia and Sestri Levante, lies the mountainous area known as the Cinque Terre – the five lands, which historically were five remote villages. We were indeed fortunate to visit these towns of Riomaggiore, Manarola, Corniglia, Vernazza and Monterosso by sea, as the road above the towns is substantially higher. A good option is to visit the towns by train, as the railway is tunnelled just above sea level, popping out at stations next to the towns.

Cinque Terre – Riomaggiore.

Cinque Terre – Manarola.

Cinque Terre – Corniglia.

Cinque Terre – Vernazza.

About 25 nm further to the north, Portofino is an aristocrat of a resort for the rich and favourite of the jet set with a small harbour. It is beautiful, elegant and sophisticated. We nosed Esprit into the harbour to take photos, as we definitely couldn’t afford or even secure a berth amongst the super yachts there. You get the feeling in the marina that you should have got all matching fenders and perhaps a new sail-cover for your visit.

Portofino harbour.

Make way little yacht – I’m backing in.

Phew! he missed us.

At the harbour entrance – these yachts are too big to fit inside the harbour.

Outside the harbour – your conventional gin palace.

Then, not my style, but someone had the money to buy it.

To, …. I am speechless!

Santa Margherita lies 1.5nm north of Portofino and around the harbour there is a more workaday atmosphere. This is were we anchored and it is a thoroughly likeable spot. Just after midnight, a 25 knot Mistral wind from the north west came through and saw us dragging our anchor, which we managed to re-lay in the melee. A sleepless night followed, so at first light around 6am, we lifted anchor in a good 15 – 20 knot N-W wind to set sail and head south to Corsica.

Santa Margherita.

A very interesting day was to follow on Friday 6th September: We were flying along at 8-10 knots SOG (Speed over Ground) when the wind abruptly changed and a 20 knot Tramontana wind, off the land kicked in, accompanied by heavy downpours, thunder and lightning. The boat and I needed a wash anyway, but the intermittent squalls and downpours were unpleasant. We altered course to sail to the island of Gorgona, the most northerly of the offshore Tuscan islands.

At 5pm and after sailing for 10 hours and 64 nm, the police stopped us as we were about to enter the small harbour of Gorgona, to tell us that this is a prison island and that boats cannot anchor closer than 3 miles offshore. This was not mentioned in the Italian Waters Pilot, so we set sail again to sail the 23 nm to the island of Capraia where we anchored at 9pm outside the harbour in the dark, in the howling 20 knot N-E Tramontana wind and a big swell. After 87 nm over 14 hours of constantly fighting the big seas and wind, we had a stiff calming whisky, before hitting the bed.

Capraia island harbour.

Capraia town fortifications.

Saturday arrived bright and sunny, so we left Capraia after a hearty breakfast at 10:30 am to sail in a light breeze and flat seas, across to Corsica.

Our next post will be from Corsica – the French island.

Cheers!

Italy: Palermo to Agropoli.

Palermo to Salerno.

Giovanni at Salpancore Marina in Palermo was most helpful in pointing us in the right direction to the Border Police for our passport stamping, the Guardia Costiera for a new “Constituto” (Transit log), the Penguin laundromat and the Carrefour supermarket. We were able to wash the boat and fill up the water tanks, before Martin and Susan Loader from Perth WA, joined us on board on the 1st of August 2019.

Annie trying to get into the Guardia Costiera building.

We met them about three years ago, sailing their yacht “NowAndZen” up the Australian east coast and spent good times cruising together up to northern Queensland, to attend the “Shaggers Rendezvous” at Gloucester Passage. A book could be written about this time. We re-connected like it was yesterday and they will be cruising with us for a week before flying to Paris.

Sue and Annie at Shaggers a few years ago.

Shaggers, Marty and Dirk picking up personality.

Compared to 44 years ago, when my brothers and I travelled through Sicily in our camper van, Palermo has grown into a bit of a dump. I don’t know if the sanitation department is on permanent strike, because walking along the pavements has become like an obstacle course of rubbish. There were one or two well maintained historical buildings worth seeing, as well as a 200 sqm mural to celebrate the lives of Giovanni Falcone and Paolo Borsellino, the two brave judges who pursued the Sicilian mafia and as a result, were murdered in 1993 by the Cosa Nostra. We left as soon as we could after stocking up with food and drinks.

Mural citation: But there are actions and reactions. Small daily gestures to break the veil of omertà or great gestures to be seen from afar by all, citizens and criminal organisations. In Palermo: a mural with the immortal faces of two souls who spent their lives in the line of justice, Giovanni Falcone and Paolo Borsellino. Their smiles have become the weapon to refute the mafia. Their cooperation is the antibody to get the Cosa Nostra disease out of our society

Baroque church in Palermo

Triumphal entry into Palermo town.

Palermo coffee shop? Simply put out tables in the parking bays.

Our first stop was Cefalu, a beautiful town about midway along the north coast of Sicily. The north coast of Sicily is more developed than the south and substantial highways and train lines follow the coast. The Italian civil engineering projects are of the best in the world, with mind blowing concrete bridges and viaducts. It reminded me of an evening in Melbourne to see the stand-up comedian (and architect) Vince Sorrenti, explaining his Italian heritage and their love of concrete: “Mate, we buy a quarter acre block of land with a house on it and the first thing we do, is concrete the whole yard!”

What a bridge!

Cefalu beach.

Cefalu at sunset.

Cefalu buzzing at night.

From Cefalu we sailed to the Lipari islands to the north east of Sicily. Also known as the Aeolian islands, from the legend of Aeolus who gave Odysseus the contrary winds tied up in a bag. There are seven islands and Alicudi, the most westerly island, doesn’t have suitable anchorages, so we tried to anchor off Filicudi, but the raging north westerly made this impossible. We continued to Salina island, where we got a good anchorage in the lee of the island, at the quaint Santa Marina village.

Marty in his element.

A passing Hydrofoil ferry.

Approaching Filicudi island.

The harbour at Salina island

Buying bread and fruit in Santa Marina village.

Street scene Santa Marina.

Sun Dried tomatoes on the pavement.

Annie and Sue dodging traffic in the village.

The following day we motor sailed to Stromboli, the most northerly island and also known as the oldest lighthouse in the world. This active volcano has been dubbed “the lighthouse of the Mediterranean” from ancient times to the present. The 925m high volcano is in a continuous state of activity, releasing its pressure bit by bit, day by day, instead of building up to a big bang. We anchored off Scari, the main town, next to a Jeanneau 54DS that ran aground in a storm, the week before. A sad sight, with its keel and rudder ripped off and the hull holed in several places.

Approaching Stromboli island

Jeanneau 54DS aground on the rocks.

Stromboli – there she blows.

Lava running down the northern slope.

Night time action.

After viewing the volcanic activity in the afternoon and the evening, we woke up to Esprit covered in fine volcanic grit the next day. On reaching Lipari island, we anchored next to the old harbour and tried to wash down the grit as best we could with buckets of sea water. The old town is beautiful and we enjoyed  exploring it and listening to a jazz guitarist while sipping a beer or two.

Lipari old town.

Lipari harbour.

The town square.

Enjoying a sundowner.

While Giovanni’s guitar gently weeps.

Yesh! let’s have another one.

Annie and Sue discussing shopping strategy.

Overhead bathroom extension.

Our last day was spent at Vulcano island which has a semi active volcano and hot volcanic mud baths with an overpowering sulphur smell.

Vulcano island.

Mud baths.

Lava column next to Esprit.

We motor sailed back to Cefalu in Sicily where we had a farewell dinner with Marty and Sue before they caught the train to Palermo and the airport the next morning on Friday the 9th August. Our parcel with replacment fridge door seals was also delivered by Giovanni from the marina in Palermo, so we spent another day in Cefalu installing the seals, doing the laundry and going out to dinner to listen to some live music.

Back in Cefalu Marty observed: “These ladies have the right footwear for foredeck work”

Farewell dinner starters.

Marty’s kind of shirt.

Last night Cefalu treat for Marty and Sue: Operatic arias in the Duomo town square.

The following night, from the sublime – to Reggae.

Due to intermittent internet contact with our daughters, we were surprised to hear that after six months in Sydney, Michelle was back in London. She was enroute from Norway, where she and Remi had collected a camper van Remi had bought, and was busy travelling to Poland. She contacted us from Venice to ask if she could join us on Esprit in Naples. Karen in the meantime, decided to buy a house in Newcastle, as it seems her training in orthopaedic surgery will keep her at the John Hunter hospital for the foreseeable future.

Remi and his van at Lake Como.

Michelle in Venice.

Three day sails of about 30 nm/day brought us to the northern entry to the Strait of Messina. After crossing the Strait, we anchored at Scilla on the Italian mainland, followed by Bagnara and Tropea, before we had a big day sailing to Cetraro, 54 nm to the north west. Here we anchored next to a catamaran from Bundaberg in Australia and were invited over for drinks with Grant and Leslie Thompson.

Strait of Messina. The HT electrical supply cable masts became redundant, due to wind farms in southern Sicily.

Scilla.

We had to anchor in Sapri bay, 37 nm to the north west, to buy more Vodafone data time as their app wasn’t working on our phones. We also had to post signed documents to Sydney, which took 45 minutes in a queue at the post office to buy a stamp. No rush here mate. The three discos and karaoke bars blaring their music until three o’clock in the morning in Sapri, were the pits.

Arts and Craft style in Sapri.

Ice cream in Sapri – in the parking bay!

After a short hop to Scario, a small town along the coast, we bumped into Grant and Leslie again. The town deserved a two day stay and explore and the generous snacks served with drinks at all the bars, forced us to go on a pub crawl with Grant and Leslie on the second night.

Scario harbour.

Annie and her namesake convent in Scario.

Good value – two Peroni’s and spuntino (snacks) for EU3. (OMG! this looks like a Facebook post)

Grant, Leslie and Annie.

We felt energised by these fun run athletes trotting past our table.

A day sail to San Marco, followed by a short 7 nm motor sail brought us to Agropoli – a corruption of Acropolis, betraying the town’s Greek origins. We were anchored outside the harbour under a cliff with houses perched above, as there were no berths available in the harbour.

The entrance to Agropoli harbour.

We anchored outside the harbour.

In the afternoon Michelle arrived, having flown to Naples and taking the train from there to Agropoli. It was good to catch up with her news. Early the next morning we caught a train to Paestum, about 10 km to the north-east. Said to be the finest Greek architecture in Italy, the ruins of the town have stood in majestic solitude for over a thousand years. The city was founded by Greeks in the 6th century BC.

Michelle and Annie – the local train.

Paestum: The temple of Athena.

The temple of Neptune.

The temple of Hera.

Detail: Temple of Neptune.

It was as hot as Hades, but well worth the effort and after visiting the extensive museum, we took a bus back to Agropoli. We raised our anchor in the afternoon and set sail for Salerno, where we had to meet Michelle’s friend Remi, the following day.

Michelle, back behind the wheel.

Cheers for now!

 

Italy: Bari to Palermo.

We left Cavtat in Croatia at 4 pm on Tuesday 2nd July 2019 and motored for two hours before we reached the forecasted northeaster. With the wind building, we soon had to tuck in two reefs in the mainsail and furl the jib to 50%. The sea was flat and we covered the 105 nm in 15 hours to arrive in Bari, Italy at 7 am, averaging 7 knots – a most satisfactory crossing. As we were now entering the European areas with costly marina charges, we will record these charges to aid our fellow sailors who follow our blog and plan to sail in these areas.

Bari to Palermo.

The marina in Bari, Nautica Ranieri, offered us a berth for two nights at EU 50 a night. We did the laundry and cleaned the boat, before David and Patricia Bruce form Cape Town arrived the following day. We then explored the old town of Bari, stocked up with groceries, filled the diesel tank and sailed the 27 nm south to Monopoli, which is quite an old and attractive town.

Dave, Pat and Annie at Strada del Dottula, Bari.

A wedding on the Vico la Trulla.

The colourful Vico la Trulla area in Bari.

Meeting SA expats who are living in Germany, in Monopoli. Notice the ” ‘n Boer maak ‘n Plan” T-shirt.

Street scene in Monopoli.

Colourful Baroque church in Monopoli.

Poor man’s copy of Michelangelo’s David found in Monopoli.

From here we called in at Brindisi and then Otranto, before rounding the heel of Italy to Santa Maria de Leuca, where we spent two days. We left early on the 10th July to do the 75 nm crossing of the Gulf of Taranto in winds of between 5 and 25 knots, with rain and thunder. It was a relief to tie up in Ciro Marina where we were bunkered down for two days while a 25 knot northerly raged.

Brindisi old town with the Via Appia steps.

Annie and Patricia at the steps.

A Mussolini era monument in Brindisi.

Otranto anchorage.

An entrance into Otranto old town.

Otranto square.

Argentinians, Leo and Carla and their dog, cycling the world.

Otranto taxi.

Otranto beach.

I was fortunate to locate a reinforced water pipe in Ciro to replace the leaking pipe on the hot water cylinder, while we waited for the wind to abate. We had a good sail to La Castella, 40 nm to the south west, where a too shallow entry to the inner harbour, as well as the outer harbour packed with fishing boats, forced us to raft up on an abandoned, rusty yacht.

Mussolini’s steps into Italy at Santa Maria de Leuca.

Outdoor dancing in St Maria de Leuca.

Tied up to a wreck in La Castella.

The next day started with me diving to clear the propellor from a birds nest of fishing buoy ropes, before we set sail for the 53 nm crossing of the Gulf of Squillace to tie up late afternoon in Roccella Ionica at the marina. The marina staff was most helpful and charged EU 60 for the night.

An early start the next morning with a good following wind, had us poled out to cover the 77 nm across the Strait of Messina, to anchor in Naxos by 6 pm. (Naxos was colonised by the Greeks – hence the name) A heavy swell early the next morning, forced us to leave Naxos and motor through a big sea to look for shelter and tie up NIC Marina in Catania at EU 40 for the night. Catania has a big harbour and is quite run down, but we had a lovely dinner in town – in the rain.

Walking past the Bellini theatre on our way to dinner.

After dinner – Grappa and Limoncello.

We motor sailed the 30 nm to Siracusa to be welcomed by a storm with pelting rain as we entered the harbour. The marina quoted us EU 90/night, but a French couple tied up to the town quay, told us we should go and see the Guardia Costiera (Coast Guard) for a berth. If there is one available, they will allow you to stay for five nights for free! No power or electricity available – which we don’t require, as we are self sufficient. Annie went to their office and managed to get us a berth.

The entrance into Siracusa harbour when it’s not raining.

Archimedes, Siracusa’s favourite son of 23 centuries ago.

Dave and Patricia were due to fly out from Catania in five days, so we decided to stay put, as we were all knackered after some hectic sailing. Apart from that, Siracusa is an attractive place, with a beautiful old town. We spent five relaxed days exploring the town, fixed the lazy jacks, broken during our dramatic entry into the bay and having our main and jib sheets washed at a laundry.

Amazing plasterwork on the Chamber of Commerce building.

The famous Sea Shepherd in the harbour.

Even an alley can be a restaurant

A chandlery supplied us with Dyneema non-stretch rope for a new main halyard and pre-stretched polyester rope for our worn-out reefing lines, at a reasonable price. These and the washed sheets (now a lot softer) were installed and other maintenance items done, while visiting the markets and having relaxed breakfasts and dinners in between with Dave and Patricia.

The fish market.

Not only fruit and veg, but spices too.

Walking to dinner.

The cathedral square.

We also attended a concert by a brilliant duo from the Netherlands, Bobby Rootveld and Sanna van Elst, called Duo NIHZ.

Bobby and Sanna.

Our ladies, Patricia and Annie.

Fountain in the town square of Siracusa.

On Saturday the 20th July, Dave and Pat caught the bus to the airport for their flight back to Cape Town. We checked out with the Frontier Police, filled the tank and jerry cans with diesel and motored to Capo Passero, 31 nm to the south where we anchored in crystal clear water. It was great to swim off the back of the boat in privacy, after five days in a goldfish bowl, on the town quay.

Capo Passero anchorage.

To crown it all, a splendid jazz quartet in the style of George Benson, played at a restaurant on shore, while we grooved in the cockpit with a litre of wine and barbecued our fish, bought at the market that morning. We made water and filled the water tanks the following day. The anchorage was pleasant enough for us to stay another day and night, before motor sailing 50 nm to Scoglitti, further west. The beaches along the south coast are sandy and attracts many tourists. It appears this area is also the fruit and veg basket of Italy, judging by the thousands of tunnel hothouses.

Leaving Capo Passero.

Scoglitti.

Our next anchorage was San Leone which was holiday central for tourists, with blaring doof-doof music and over excited DJ’s shouting at the top of their voices. The mozzies decided they couldn’t handle the noise and came to join us on Esprit – what a night! The next anchorage at Sciacca was a lot quieter and prettier, before we reached the island of Favignana, off the west Sicilian coast.

Sciacca.

We anchored in the bay Cala Rossa on the north coast as a strong southerly was predicted for the following day. A remarkable spot with dozens of yachts and boats on moorings or at anchor in crystal clear water – we stayed for two nights before a building northwesterly forced us to motor to the south side and anchor in Scindo Passo.

Intense blue, but clear water.

Here, the wind started blowing hard, reaching 25 – 30 knots overnight, with a hideous swell on the beam for a sleepless night. To crown it all, on leaving the bay the next morning, we struck an uncharted sandbank and got stuck. A friendly Frenchman came to our aid with his dinghy, sporting a 20 hp motor. With our Yanmar and his Honda at full revs, we couldn’t budge Esprit.

We won’t forget Scindo Passo!

Our main and jib were hoisted and with the 15 knot wind and the two motors, we eventually sailed Esprit off the sandbank. Quite a relief, so while the going was good we carried on in the 15 knot wind and sailed all the way to Capo San Vito, 31 nm to the N-E, where we anchored for the night.

Capo San Vito.

Our last anchorage before Palermo was Baia di Mondello. A short hop to Palermo followed, where we booked a berth at the Salpancore Marina in order to pick up Marty and Sue, our friends from Perth.

Baia di Mondello.

Look out for our next post, probably from Naples, or a bit further north along the Italian coast.

Cheers!

Croatia: Venice to Bari.

Apropos our previous post on Venice, an American friend sent me an article from the Washington Post about “The age of the overtourist”. It included examples of how to ruin a perfectly beautiful city for everyone. She concluded: “These have to be some of the saddest photographs of Venice I’ve ever seen”. I second that Trena!

The number of passengers and crew on this ship is almost the same as the permanent population of Venice.

Nice vista down this canal?

Unlike the lack of wind while crossing to Venice, the Scirocco from the south kicked in for our return journey to Umag in Hrvatska, as the Croatians call their country. We had an exciting 50 nm sail averaging 8-9 knots in a 20 knot wind, getting us to Umag in a record time, but salt encrusted.

Annie at the helm.

Having checked in at customs and immigration and paying another AUD 300 for a 21 day cruising permit, we enjoyed relaxed sailing south to Rovinj and Pula. In Pula we collected a new anchor windlass for AUD 1,451 which the Quick agent had ordered for us, 10 days earlier from Italy..

The new windlass, motor and gearbox.

Two days of good sailing in a following wind took us first to Losinj island where we anchored in Artatori bay with 23 other yachts and then to Iz island where we anchored in Soline Bay with a yacht from Austria. The summer charter fleets were out in force and we often saw up to 50 yachts on the water around us, mostly with crews from Germany and Italy.

Passing a lighthouse on the way south.

Our next stop was Zut for two days. After Zut followed Kaprije island, and then we spent two days in the pleasant town of Primosten, waiting for the southerly Scirocco to abate.

Primosten.

Primosten – public sculpture.

Entrance into the old town.

Cut stone for roof tiles.

When the wind turned to the northerly Bora, we had two days of excellent downwind sailing with the pole out, overnighting at Stari Star, a small cove off Hvar and Tri Luke on Korcula island.

Relaxed downwind sailing.

Hvar.

A few more anchorages followed and on the 27th June we were back in beautiful Cavtat, where we first checked into Croatia on the 25th April. It was now much warmer and busier, but then the Bora from the north punished us for three days with winds of up to 45 knots, while at anchor in Cavtat – not pleasant. When the wind settled down, we stocked up with provisions and waited until Tuesday the 2nd of July for the forecasted 15 knot northerly to take us on the 105 nm overnight crossing to Bari in Italy.

Annie in Cavtat.

Servicing the winches in Cavtat, before our next passage.

Cavtat sunset.

Our neighbours, Saffers Brady and Nicky and the jolly French twins, Christine and Anne over for goodbye drinks.

In conclusion: Our cruise through the islands of Croatia (Hrvatska), which have been populated since the time of Ancient Greece (between 3500 BC and 2500 BC), has been a pleasant but expensive experience. According to Wikipedia, the Croatian part of the Adriatic Sea, has 718 islands, 389 islets and 78 reefs, making the Croatian archipelago the largest in the Adriatic Sea. Sailing at night is not recommended, as not many of the islets and reefs are marked!

Map of Croatia and some of it’s bigger islands.

Of the 718 islands, only 47 are inhabited in the sense that at least one person resides on that island. Some sources indicate 67 inhabited islands, which is the number of islands that have a settlement on them, but 20 of these islands have lost all of their population as a result of the population decline occurring throughout the Croatian islands, due to insufficient economic activity. A number of young people working in restaurants have told us that the younger generation is leaving Croatia for economic or political reasons – a familiar story in today’s world.

The main industries on the islands are agriculture, fishing and tourism. The islands’ agriculture is primarily devoted to viticulture and olive growing. The local economy is relatively underdeveloped and that is possibly the reason why the island people jump at the opportunity to charge yachties for anchoring in their bays on top of the government cruising permit and other sailing levies.

We have found the people and officials very friendly, but I am afraid the cruising yachtsmen and women are now moving to Greece and Turkey, because Croatia has become too expensive.

Our next post will be from Italy.

Cheers for now.

Croatia: Zadar to Venice.

The area around Zadar has been inhabited since neolithic times. The Romans built the old town which they called Jader and the ruins of the Roman forum is still visible near the church of St Donat. The town has been occupied by various nations, and the Venetians controlled it until 1797.

The ruins of the Roman forum and the church of St Donat.

The belfry of the church of St Donat tower over the old town.

A stall at the fresh produce market.

The Italian influence is notable and we enjoyed exploring the old town, visiting the excellent fresh produce market and extending our cruising permit at the harbourmaster for an additional 15 days.

An excellent school girls string orchestra performing in the town square.

Followed by an equally good jazzy brass band.

Which had the string orchestra girls dancing! Talent with a capital T.

Modern Zadar.

Lovely angels on this old church.

Who will play in heaven for those motorists who take this corner too fast.

We sailed north after three days, stopping at Luka Simuni on the way, to the island of Otok Rab. There is an excellent anchorage at Fumija off the town of Rab where we spent another three days – Rab is a town we can recommend – a beautiful old town and adjoining new town with modern shops and amenities. We managed to stock up with food, wine and beer at a big Konzum market.

A yellow submarine spotted at the entrance to Luka Simuni.

Otok Rab – church belfries dominating the old town.

The coastal walk from Fumija to Rab.

Street scene in Rab.

We had breakfast under this roof which has stood here for 1,250 years.

I was surprised to see Lucifer outside the monastery.

A restored very old chapel.

Another street scene in Rab.

Next stop was Punat – a large sheltered bay on the island of Krk (correct spelling). Not from the rain though – 24 hours of downpours. We headed for the mainland to stop at Rabac at the very top of the gulf – the sun came out and we enjoyed the holiday atmosphere of this resort town and watching scores of Optimist and Laser dinghies sailing around us.

Rabac.

Lasers and their coach.

Uvala Vinjole, beautiful bay 15 nm to the west provided us with an anchorage the following day, as well as numerous nudists sunning themselves on the shore. Unfortunately, we had to continue north the following day, as our extended cruising permit (vignette) was only valid for another week – by which time we wanted to sail to Venice in Italy.

There followed a good sail to Pula, which is an industrial town, slightly tatty, but with excellent Roman remains, notably the well preserved Roman amphitheatre and a temple to emperor Augustus.

Pula: Roman amphitheatre built AD 41 -80.

Close up – massive masonry.

Amphitheatre interior.

Temple to Augustus.

Pula: an older street.

A statue to the Croatian Resistance Movement who fought against the fascist occupation 1941-45.

The Scirocco carried us on to Rovinj, a beautiful town well worth a visit. The church of St Eufemija is visible for many kilometres and the old town surrounding the church has a warren of narrow streets, which we explored. We got back footsore to Esprit, anchored in the lee of Katarina island.

View from our anchorage. The church of St Eufemija is visible for miles.

Approaching Rovinj harbour.

Starting the walk up to the church.

Side vault of the church.

Rovinj street scene.

A wider street.

And a narrower street.

Walking around the Rovinj harbour front.

We had two more stops at Porec and Dajla before reaching Umag, the most northerly harbour in Croatia before reaching the Slovenian border. After stocking up with provisions in Umag, we cleared out with Customs and the police for the 50 nm crossing to Venice, which at 45 degrees north, is as far north as Esprit will sail on this trip.

The expected Bora wind from the north didn’t materialise, so we had to motor the 50 nm across to Venice. Our last visit to Venice was almost five years ago and we were happy to be back in one of our favourite cities. The Venice Biennale is on at the moment, so we were able to visit a number of very interesting exhibitions. It is tempting to include dozens of photos of Venice, so please indulge me with this small selection below.

The prominent lighthouse at the Lido entrance to the lagoon of Venice.

The impressive flood control gates at the Lido, installed to manage future flooding of the lagoon.

Approaching Piazza San Marco.

Off Piazza San Marco.

Annie, my Gondolier, weaving through the water taxis and vaporettos off St Marco.

Off Riva St Biagio.

Santa Maria della Salute.

San Giorgio Maggiore.

Back on land: The belfry of St Mark, with the lion of Venice on the column.

The Basilica di San Marco.

The architect liked columns – lots of columns.

The Ponte del Sapiri between the Palazzo Ducale and the old prison.

Heroic monuments.

With the ubiquitous lion.

The Rialto bridge.

Amazing Murano glassware in a shop window.

Interior of La Pieta church – also called Vivaldi’s church.

Following are a few street scenes. Don’t ask me the names!

Finally, some sculptures at the Venice Biennale. Evidently the black and gold sculptures are in bronze, highly polished and painted. The futuristic coloured sculptures are cast resins a la Jeff Koons work.

My sort of gal – in traditional concrete.

After lunch, a little recovery lie down in the park outside the Biennale.

To sum up: Our route north west.

We will now head back to Umag and then sail south east through the outer Croatian islands, before crossing to Bari in Italy.

Cheers for now.

Croatia: Trogier to Zadar

Esprit’s route in the Adriatic.

After saying goodbye to Reini and Lynne, we spent another two days at Trogier Marina before setting sail to go northwest up the Croatian coast. The weather continued to be wet and cold, proving that at 44 degree latitude north in the Adriatic Sea, summer comes later than our friends who were sailing in Greece and Turkey, were experiencing at 37 degrees north.

Leaving Trogier old town.

Anchored in Vinisce.

Vinisce waterfront.

The first three days provided little in the way of wind, which meant a lot of motoring with fairly average scenery on land of new developments. We stopped at Vinisce, Rogoznica and Razanj. Once we headed up the Luka canal, the scenery improved as we reached Sibenik.

Sailing past Sibenik.

We were now in a massive inland waterway that took us about 10 nm inland to Skradin, which is as far as Esprit could go before a low road bridge. Tickets from the National Parks allowed us to take a ferry another 3 nm into the Krka National Park to the Skradinski Buk waterfalls.

Esprit’s route on the vast waterway of the Luka canal.

Going under the road bridge to Skradin.

Skradin town.

One of the many swans that welcomed us.

With the rains we had over the previous two days, the waterfalls were in full flood and quite beautiful – it reminded us of a mini version of the Iguazu falls between Brazil and Argentina. Back  on Esprit, the wind picked up to 40 knots from the northeast and we spent an anxious night anchored off Skradin town on the Krka river.

Entrance into the Krka Park.

The travertine falls.

More falls.

More falls as we climb higher.

Water everywhere.

Walkways so close, you can touch the water.

At first light the following morning, we ducked downstream to Vrulje to get into the lee of the land. Charlie, a local fisherman came over to suggest we re-anchor further into the cove, as there was an even stronger westerly coming through that evening. The following day, we motored to Zaton village where the anchorage was too narrow for us, so we carried on to Sibenik, and found shelter in a bay south of the town.

Zaton village.

This was a good choice, as we were near a ships chandler where we bought a discharge pipe for the toilet to the holding tank, to replace a blocked pipe. Four hours later and a new passage cut through two bulkheads with a 55mm hole saw, the job was done. We settled down with celebratory drinks, as it was the 15th May, our third anniversary since sailing out of Sydney.

Back in Sibenik, the barrel vaulted cathedral.

We enjoyed Sibenik before motoring to Vodice, seven miles to the northwest. The sun came out at last and we explored the town to buy fruit and veg at the market and groceries, wine and beer at the Tommy hypermarket. The sunny period was short lived as it clouded over the next day, but with a nice 25 knot south easterly to take us 20 nm north to Hramina where we found shelter.

Leaving Sibenik – WW2 shelters for submarines.

The Venetian fortification at the entrance of the Luka canal.

Opposite it, the lighthouse.

What’s wrong with this picture? The new hotel next to the town of Vodice.

Hramina, like most of the towns further north, has a marina for the exclusive use of a charter company. The company at this marina for example, had more than 80 vessels, of which about half were Jeanneau SO 439 monohulls like Esprit, with also smaller and bigger Jeanneau’s. These were in the company of about 20 American Lagoon catamarans.

Lagoon of course, wins the prize for building floating camper vans that least resemble sailing vessels, often challenged by Leopard catamarans. However, the Hummer military combat vehicle aesthetic of Lagoon cats, tip the scales in their favour. Different strokes for different folks.

Hramina peninsula – the sunken Roman town of Colentum at top left.

Colentum partially visible.

Walking up Gradina hill – the church and cemetery below.

View from Gradina to Hramina marina.

View up to the islands.

Fresh calamari paella from the market.

After some good walks around Hramina, a strong south easterly took us swiftly to Zadar, a large city, 22 nm to the northwest. We will spend a few days here to get prices for a new anchor windlass, as the original one sounds as though it will kark it at any minute. So, rather than wait for that surprise and pull up the anchor and chain by hand, let’s be ready with a replacement.

We will keep you posted on developments.

Cheers for now.

Croatia: Dubrovnik to Split.

Due to very little wind, it was a 31 nm motor cruise from Montenegro to Cavtat in Croatia where we checked in with the friendly female harbour master and the police. This necessitated a quick trip to an ATM to draw cash to pay the 663 Kuna ($144) “Safety of Navigation” fees for 2019 and the 1,400 Kuna ($304) “Sojourn Tax Vignette” valid for 30 days. It therefore costs $10/day to sail in Croatia, before any other expenses.

Cavtat from the cemetery on the hill above the town.

Cavtat is a small and attractive town, 12 km southeast of Dubrovnik, built on the ruins of the ancient Greek settlement of Epidaurus. Two days later Reini and Lynne Adelbert from Cape Town flew in from Berlin to join us for a bit of R & R. The 28th April marked my 72nd birthday and we spent a pleasant day starting with coffees at the harbour, exploring Cavtat and finishing off with a BBQ on the boat.

Lynne & Reini on the Cavtat waterfront.

Kids playing on the statue of an old Cavtat luminary.

A local Mini – I owned a number of these beauties in SA!

The following day we caught a bus into Dubrovnik to explore the Old Town, which was bustling with people. The town has been restored since it was devastated in the 1991-2 war and is really worth a visit. With its breathtakingly beautiful streets, squares and buildings, the only downside are the exorbitant prices which take your breath away. After a pleasant walk about, we took the bus back to Cavtat.

The bridge into Dubrovnik old town.

Dubrovnik street scene.

A tragic war reminder on a Dubrovnik house.

A map of the old town – the black dots show the mortar and bomb hits.

Dubrovnik side alley.

Annie, Lynne and Reini on the Dubrovnik town square.

Visits to Zaton Bay, Ston and Kobas followed, before we anchored in Lumbarda for two nights, to bus into Korcula for a visit. Again, we were struck by the well maintained old town and were pleasantly surprised to find the local Asparagus festival happening on the town square. At the festival, young students offered savoury and sweet snacks free of charge, in exchange for a donation to the school.

Broce village on the way to Ston.

Lumbarda church and cemetery.

Lumbarda. The forgotten communist dream: A worker with the obligatory machine gun on his back.

At the entrance to Korcula old town.

Korcula town gate.

Kids following their teacher on a rope.

Marko Polo came from Korcula.

Walking around the town.

Interesting architecture.

The asparagus festival lunch.

Sailing out of Korcula.

A fast 34 nm sail to Vela Luka followed, ending in a robust rain storm which must have worried our guests, before we tied up to a town mooring. Two quiet nights at Duboka Vela followed before we wrapped up Reini and Lynne’s visit at Trogier Marina, 25 km west of Split. They kindly helped us clean the boat and do the laundry, before they flew back to Berlin on the 8th May. The weather could have been better during their visit, but they confirmed that they enjoyed Croatia and their sailing experience.

We now continue our sail north through the Croatian islands and will report again in due course.

Cheers for now.

Albania and Montenegro.

Esprit was re-launched at Cleopatra Marina in Preveza, Greece on Friday 29th of March 2019. She was looking as good as new after the anti-fouling, ding repairs and hull polishing that was done during our absence.

Esprit relaunch.

We motored across to Preveza Marina, a mile away and tied up to one of their new refurbished pontoons for the weekend. Saturday morning was spent buying provisions for the boat for the next three months. The anchor was covered in rust after 4 months of idleness, so I treated it with 3 coats of rust converter in the afternoon, followed up with 2 coats of cold galvanising on the Sunday. We also re-packed all the lockers.

Esprit’s track through Albania and Montenegro.

Mogonisi – no tavernas open yet.

After checking out with immigration at the police, customs and the port police on Monday morning, we set sail in bright sunshine and a light breeze for Paxoi island, 37 nm to the northwest. We anchored in the quaint bay of Mongonisi for a BBQ and celebratory bottle of wine. Two more days of relaxed sailing and overnighting in Platarias and Kalami followed, before crossing from the Ionian Sea to the Adriatic and into Albanian waters where we checked into Albania at Sarande. There was still some snow on the Albanian mountains.

Platarias harbour.

Kalani in the north of Corfu.

A cold wind off the snow capped Albanian mountains,

Albania

Albania has been settled, invaded and occupied by many nations since the 8th century BC. Albania’s history during the 20th century has continued to be turbulent, with characters like President Zogu, who declared himself King Zog in 1928. At the end of World War 2 in 1945, the Communists under Enver Hoxha came to power. Hoxha ruled Albania with an iron fist until his death in 1985. Under his dictatorship 700,000 concrete bunkers were built along the coast and minefields were laid offshore, in case the country was invaded.

A few of the concrete bunkers.

Close up of a bunker.

Cramped quarters below.

Popular movement of disaffection and protest finally led to the election in 1992 of Sali Berisha of the Democratic Party. Unfortunately, he lost the next election to the Socialist Party (the former Communist Party with a new name). Finally, in 2005 the Democratic Party under Sali Berisha came back to power, shaking off the shackles of Communism. The country is gradually improving despite many problems.

Old systems persevere and the government bureaucracy requires sailors to employ agents at considerable expense at every harbour, to obtain entry and exit permits. Hopefully, this will change in time, bringing more sailors to Albania and growing their tourism industry. After employing Agim Zholi as our agent to do all the paperwork, we were free to go ashore and caught a bus to visit the historic site of Butrint which has been inhabited since the 8th century BC.

A Venetian tower at the entrance, built in the 15th and 16th centuries.

Butrint, a UNESCO world heritage site, offers a remarkable journey through the ages of history and its structures bear testimony to the Hellenistic, Roman, Byzantine, Venetian and Ottoman cultures and civilizations which occupied this place at some time in history. Most of these monuments have been discovered by the Italian archaeologist Luigi Ugolini who excavated the site from 1928 to 1939.

The Venetian castle, built in the 14th and 15th century. Reconstructed in the 1930s.

View from the top of the castle.

A chapel dedicated to the god Asclepius – 4th century BC.

Ancient theatre – 3rd century AD.

Roman baths – 2nd century AD.

The baptistery – early 6th century AD. The mosaic floor is covered in sand to protect it.

The mosaic floor below the sand – read the text.

The great basilica – early Christian period, built in the 6th century AD.

After a pleasant afternoon walking through the site, we returned by bus, collected the approved documents from our agent and got back to the boat just as the rains came down for the night.

The following day we set off in bright sunshine for the 20 nm passage to anchor at Palermos. This wide bay is separated in two by a peninsula, which is dominated by one of Ali Pasha’s castles which was built around 1807 to ensure his protection against the French attacks coming from Corfu. This castle, being relatively new, is still in excellent condition, despite it having been used as a storage facility for fuel and armaments during the communist regime. We anchored off the peninsula for the night, after our visit to the castle.

Approaching the castle from the sea.

Plan of the castle.

Castle interior.

Ali Pasha.

The weather prediction for Sunday indicated freshening southerlies, so we set off early and had a fast, cold and wet sail sail to Vlore, 38 nm to the northwest. At this point, the distance to the east coast of Italy is only 39 nm and this narrow gap creates a venturi effect on the wind. We anchored in the lee of a north facing bay and by 6 pm the wind was pumping at 30 knots with the rain bucketing down, requiring a close watch on our anchor. I was also developing a persistent and irritating cough.

Sailing past Dhermi, where Karen enjoyed a music festival last year.

Anchored in the lee of the land at Vlore, just before the wind and the rain came.

There was no point in sitting out the heavy winds and rain the next morning, so we set off for Durres, the main Albanian harbour further north, covering the 56 nm passage at an average speed of 7 knots. We were totally drenched and freezing cold due to the continuous rain following us from the south. We anchored off the harbour wall and consumed a few calming brandies. I woke up the next morning with a serious cold – my first cold in 3 years of sailing!

Beautiful Orthodox church in Durres.

Our new agent in Durres, Ilir Gjergji took care of the paperwork in the record time 0f 2.5 h and pointed us to a chemist for medications, supermarket and fruit and veg shops. It turns out I had contracted an upper respiratory tract infection, which could potentially turn into pneumonia. So, a 5-day course of antibiotics was called for, plus Bisolvon to clear mucus from the chest. The next four days was a blur of continuous coughing and very little sleep.

“Can’t quite place this style” in Durres.

On Wednesday the 10th April (our wedding anniversary) we departed Durres, Albania for Bar in Montenegro. It wasn’t the best anniversary we have had, what with me down below under a duvet, suffering coughing fits and Annie above in the pouring rain and wind, sailing the boat singlehandedly for 55 nm to Bar.

Montenegro.

Over the past few decades this area has experienced considerable turbulence, from major earthquakes in 1979 which devastated Kotor and Budva, to the knock-on effects of the wars in Croatia and Kosovo in 1991-1992, when the former Yugoslavia fell apart.

Bar is the principal port of Montenegro. The city is modern, having largely been rebuilt after the second world war. The officials at the harbour master’s office and the police were pleasant and helpful. We paid EU60 for a two-week vignette – cruising permit. Despite advice to the contrary, the marina is smart and clean with water and electricity included in the steep EU71.50 daily berthing fee.

Entrance to Bar marina.

Bar marina.

Sleeping dogs in Bar.

Annie had by now, also picked up a cold, so rather than duelling banjos, we had duelling phlegm and snot coughing fits. After two days, we headed north to Sveti Stefan, where we anchored off this beautiful little island for another two days of recovery.

Sveti Stefan.

Suitably refreshed, we motored to Budva, a large holiday town and anchored off the marina in the bay. The old town in Budva has been well restored and we enjoyed walking through the narrow streets and up the fortifications. Budva justified a two-day visit before we sailed on.

Budva old town.

Old town street.

Budva new town.

Next stop was the Bay of Kotor, just south of the border with Croatia. This extensive waterway is a cruising paradise and we spent the next 9 days exploring all the little bays and villages along the shore. If you only have a week for cruising in Albania and Montenegro, come and spend it here. Another plus was, we could buy duty free diesel at Porto Montenegro marina before departure to Croatia. At EU0.67/l, we filled Esprit’s tank as well as our 10 x 20l jerry cans.

Esprit’s cruise in the Bay of Kotor.

I attach some of our photos of the beautiful Bay of Kotor – untitled, as most of the place names are unpronounceable. From beautiful mountains, to small islands with churches and even a baby christening.

As a farewell gift, we were sent a dust storm from Egypt, the day before we left Porto Montenegro, This covered the boat in dust before a light drizzle turned the dust into mud. Amazing to see that the southerlies can carry dust this far up the Adriatic sea, but evidently it is not unusual. At least we had the opportunity to wash the boat down in the marina before we set sail for Croatia.

We will report again from Croatia.

 

Australia 2019

New feature! This page now has a widget in the top right corner, where you can enter your email address to receive notifications of our new posts by email. No need to check the blog from time to time for new posts!

At the same time, we have updated some photos on our main pages to freshen them up.


The Qantas flight from Johannesburg landed in Sydney at 15:30 on Sunday 3rd February 2019, where Michelle our daughter was waiting to pick us up and deliver us to our Airbnb in North Curl Curl, 150m from the beach.

View from our deck.

It was a 38-deg C day in Sydney, so after dropping off our gear at Giles and Cecilia Hill’s “Curly Beach Hideaway” we walked down to the beach for a swim. We were joined by Chantale Tremblay for sundowners on our deck overlooking the beach.

The next day, we started exploring some of our favourite coastal walks in this great city and attending BBQ’s at some of ours and the girl’s friends.

Dee Why to Curl Curl walk – Long Reef in the distance.

Dee Why to Curl Curl walk – North Curly beach.

BBQ at Luke and Monika: Chantale, Annie, Monika, Michelle and the chicks.

A busy week with medical and dental check-ups followed while we were trying to get over the jetlag. The weekend saw us catching up with Michelle and Karen who drove down from Newcastle for a birthday party. Michelle shares a neat house with three guys near the beach in Coogee, south of the harbour.

Boat equipment that needed repairs were our Yamaha generator and the two B&G VHF handsets – these were dropped off at their respective distributors. We also spent quite a bit of time looking at apartments in Dee Why, Manly Vale and Freshwater for investment potential in our Self-Managed Super Fund.

Newcastle – Bar Beach

Then we drove up to Newcastle, 160 km north of Sydney, to have a sticky beak at where Karen settled in a flat on “The Hill” with another female surgery registrar. They get on well and are close to Bar beach and about 20 minutes from the John Hunter Hospital. We walked, swam and had lunch before driving back.

The interesting Memorial Walk bridge in front of Karen’s flat.

Karen and Annie on the bridge.

Newcastle = Tattoo Central.

After a swim at Bar beach.

Back in Sydney, we continued our morning walks with Michelle Watson around the Northern Beaches.

Annie, Michelle and Hooper at Harbord Diggers.

Annie at Long Reef.

In a flash the three weeks at Curly Beach Hideaway was over and we moved up to Newport to house sit our friends, Gavin and Debra Birch’s house for the rest of our stay, while they travelled overseas. Their daughter Imogen and partner Beau stayed in the self-contained flat below the house. We enjoyed some great BBQ’s.

Beau, Imogen, Karen, Remi, Michelle and Annie.

The 9.5km walk around Narrabeen Lake.

Our various medical, pathology, skin, dental and eye tests went off without a hitch for both of us and gave us peace of mind for the next couple of years. Annie was concerned about the longevity of my RH titanium knee replacement, which has served me well over the last 15 years, despite lots of walking and climbing mountains. After an examination of the knee and looking at the X-rays, Ed Marel my orthopaedic surgeon, declared it good to go for at least another 5 years of sailing around the world.

The new Northern Beaches Hospital

Ed’s practice is now in the new Northern Beaches Hospital, less than a kilometre from our house – the hospital was completed in our absence. The new roadworks is almost complete with the Warringah Road/Forest Way/Wakehurst Parkway intersections still in progress.

Occupying our minds, was our future crossing of the Atlantic and Pacific oceans, relying solely on “Ben & Gerry” our B&G autopilot. The autopilot has played up a number of times in heavy seas, as reported in our previous posts from Papua New Guinea and crossing the Torres Strait. I have become quite adept at fixing the autopilot in emergency situations at sea, but having to spend extended periods of time hand steering, is exhausting. The other worry is losing the boat’s rudder while at sea – there are a number of accounts of this happening on Youtube. The autopilot would be useless in such a case, but a windvane steering system will work in a way.

The Hydrovane system.

So, with some time on our hands, I started researching windvane self steering systems – the mechanical systems that have been in use since before modern electric/hydraulic systems. There are a number of these systems on the market, of which two, the Canadian Hydrovane and German Windpilot systems appeared the most suitable to mount on Esprit’s stern configuration. Both companies were most helpful with their advice, but the prices were quite high (between AUD7,000 and AUD9,000), so we will chew this over for a while.

The Windpilot system.

Another option is to buy an autonomous USA standby CPT autopilot kit for about AUD2,500 as backup for our B&G autopilot and install it, if the B&G breaks down. We plan to winter in Tunisia at the end of 2019 and will therefore have to order a system by November, so that I can install a system during December, if needed.

The CPT autopilot kit.

Annie in the meantime, joined a Yoga group for classes during our stay in Newport, while I kept busy doing some walking – essential after various dinner parties, lunches and a birthday with our Sydney friends.

We visited the Royal Motor Yacht Club to see the new marina extensions, catch up with the marina guys and have lunch with Jayson McDonald, CEO of the club. There were a few more dinner parties to attend to before our departure for Greece on the 27th March. One of these, Ron Watson’s birthday party, was a liquid affair.

Ice cream birthday cake for Big Ronnie, with Ilija and Ashleigh.

Dinner with Karin, Daniel, Annie, Lynn, Kevin & Malcolm.

We took the train up to Newcastle for a sleepover at Karen to say goodbye before our departure. She showed us around Newcastle, including her workplace, the massive John Hunter hospital and introduced us to some of her colleagues at the local food, wine and craft beer festival. We slept most of the way back on the train.

Annie and Karen having a coffee at Merewether beach.

Sunday arvo drinks at the Newport SLS club with Imogen and Beau.

On our last weekend, Michelle and her friend Remi from London came to visit and we said our goodbyes. Karen surprised us with a last visit for two days before we left. The girls have indicated they want to join us in October 2020, for our Atlantic ocean crossing from the Canary Islands to the Caribbean. We will keep you posted on developments.

Our next post will be from Croatia. Cheers until then!

Greece, Preveza to South Africa.

Esprit was lifted onto the hard at Cleopatra Marina in Preveza, Greece on the 30th November 2019.

I pondered this name for a marina and then read up on the history of this area. It goes something like this:

Esprit moving onto the hardstand.

After the assassination of Julius Caesar in 44BC, a civil war was intermittently waged until 31BC, when Octavian’s victory over Anthony, decided the fate of the known world. Anthony had assembled his soldiers and ships here at Actium (Preveza), intending to invade Italy.

Map: The Battle of Actium.

Now, as we know, Mark Anthony had a thing going with Cleopatra (she bore him 3 children), so she brought her Egyptian ships across to support Anthony. History tells us that Octavian’s fleet routed Anthony’s fleet here at the mouth of the estuary. Cleopatra fled, taking her Egyptian ships and Anthony followed, leaving his men and ships to be scattered by Octavian. So, Voila! a name for the marina, exactly where Anthony’s camp was.

Nicopolis, the city that Octavian built to celebrate his victory over Anthony.
The extensive city walls of Nicopolis.

On the 3rd December we departed Preveza by bus for the 5-hour journey to Athens, where the bus promptly got stuck in traffic jams. It gave us ample time to study the graffiti covering every available surface on walls next to the main roads – even the trains were covered in graffiti. The thought occurred to me that if the Greek government levied a tax of 1 Euro on every can of spray paint sold, they could wipe out the Greek national debt within a year.

A flight to Istanbul at 8pm connected us on a flight to Johannesburg where we arrived at midday on the 4th. The next three weeks was a whirlwind of social engagements catching up with family, school and uni friends. My twin brothers arranged visits to Pretoria, live music shows, BBQ’s with friends and a visit to our old yacht club on the Vaal dam, Pennant Nine Yacht Club.

The three brothers, Vanna, Dirk and Peet, at the Upper Deck for music and lunch.
Afrikaans music would not be the same without a concertina.
Starting your BBQ the South African way.
Christmas day: the three Amigos and the three Annie’s.
Property security in Waterkloof, Pretoria
Our mob at Pennant Nine Yacht Club. (The no. 9 pennant means “Come on board for a party”)

After consuming too much food and drink over Christmas, we flew to Cape Town to spend January enjoying our old stamping grounds of years ago and catch up with friends. There were also fellow sailors in Cape Town who took the route from Thailand around the Cape to the Caribbean that we wanted to meet up with. Amongst them, Colin Villiers from the UK and Thant Zin from Burma on Burmese Breeze in Hout Bay.

First, we stayed with Debbie Preller and Jan de Waal in Muizenberg: Above, Muizenberg beach and False Bay.
Historic Muizenberg station. (Muizenberg = Mice Mountain)
St James beach, next door.
With Jim and Gail at the Garage market.
Thant Zin, Annie and Colin on Burmese Breeze in Hout Bay.
More than twenty-two years ago, our girls grew up here on Bakoven beach.
Jim, Reini and Lynne covering Van Morrison.
The Adelbert chorus.

On new year’s eve we got word from Karen that she was stoked to have summited Cotopaxi in Ecuador after five days on the mountain – quote: “the hardest thing I have done”. Cotopaxi is an active stratovolcano in the Andes Mountains, located about 50km south of Quito, Ecuador, in South America. It is the second highest summit in Ecuador, reaching a height of 5,897m (19,347 ft). It is one of the world’s highest volcanoes. Since 1738, Cotopaxi has erupted more than 50 times. The last eruption was in 2016.

And here I was, thinking our daughter was a sailor.

Karen on the summit of Cotopaxi.

New Year’s eve was spent with Jim and Gail Petrie. Starting with sundowners at the Brass Bell in Kalk Bay, followed by a BBQ at their lovely house overlooking the harbour, concluding with the arrival of 2019 and Annie’s 64th birthday at midnight. A very happy and liquid affair! New Year’s day meant recovering after a late rise, with a swim at Muizenberg beach. It was rounded off with more sundowner drinks and pizzas at Reini and Lynne Adelbert in Simonstown.

The view from Jim and Gail’s house over Kalk bay harbour.
New Year at Muizenberg beach.

Good weather gave us the opportunity to do a number of walks along the False Bay coast before we drove along the east coast to Hermanus. We stayed at the lovely waterside house of David and Patricia Bruce.

Patricia and Annie.
Dave and Dirk.
Launching the Hobie tri-sailor.
Canoeing with Dave.
Walking party up the mountain.
The Newfoundland dory which Dave built.

The five-day stay was busy, with visits to other friends in the area, walks in the mountains and sailing on Dave’s fleet of water toys. We also went to visit the Greek chapel where we got married in 1987 – sadly now, like everything else, behind security fencing.

The chapel where we were married in 1987.
Dirk, Etna, Torben & Annie.
Skulpiesbaai, Hermanus.
Melissa, Annie & Andrea.

Back in Cape Town, there were numerous dinner parties and catching up with fellow sailors at the V&A and RCYC. After two weeks of staying in Debbie Preller’s beautiful office/flat in Muizenberg as our base, we moved to Jim & Gail Petrie in Kalk Bay (Chalk Bay), a few kilometres to the south.

Surfing lessons in Muizenberg.
Fishermen net fishing from the beach.

Our stay with the Petrie’s was most pleasant with walks along the coast to Fish Hoek, up the mountains above Kalk Bay and listening to music in Constantia.

The pretty Kalk Bay community centre.
View across False Bay from St James.
Cameron Bruce (left) and his daughter Rosie at “Pastis” in Constantia.
View towards Simonstown from the mountain.
Annie and Jim taking a breather at Weary Willy’s.
Beautiful Cape fynbos.
more,
and more.

We took a trip up to Langebaan on the West coast to visit some old friends.

Lunch at Liesl and Jannie – now you know why he always beat me at squash.
Our first bungalow at Langebaan – the name is not ours!

There were outings to Steenberg, to visit the Norval Foundation gallery, the V&A to visit the MOCAA (Museum Of Contemporary African Art) gallery and the Cape Town stadium, constructed for the soccer world cup.

Norval gallery with an Eduardo Villa sculpture.
The Norval sculpture garden.
The MOCAA interior – clever recycling of the old grain silos at the V&A.
From the basement..
To the top.
An installation from Ghana making a statement about military rulers.
The stadium – like Fort Knox: I walked around it and couldn’t find an entrance.
A laid back evening with Jim at Cafe Roux with “The Lift Club” – Seniors rule!

After 10 days of the Petrie’s hospitality, we moved to the deep South to stay with Reini and Lynne Adelbert in Simonstown for another 10 days. We were very grateful for all the hospitality we received in South Africa, but were worried about wearing out the thresholds of the various friends we stayed at.

Breakfast on the Adelbert’s balcony overlooking False Bay.
A Guinea fowl for company.

The Adelbert’s immediately got us into their morning swim routine at the local tidal pool and beach. Very invigorating!

Annie and Lynne inspecting the Glencairn tidal pool.
Walking down to Fisherman’s Beach.

Simonstown has changed very little over the years and still has most of the Victorian buildings intact along the main street, next to the naval base. Although far from the city, it is a relaxed place to live.

The main street.
The ornate British Hotel.

We drove to Somerset West to have lunch with two of my primary school friends. We also had lunch at Constantia Nek with Annie’s old friend, Lanie.

Comrade Ben, Salty Dirk and Doctor Carl.
Lanelle and Annie.

Our last week in Cape Town was filled with numerous farewell dinners with friends. We were sad to leave on Saturday the 2nd of February to fly to Sydney for the following two months.

Jean, Derek, Dave, Nusheen, Thea and Annie.

We leave behind a country with beautiful scenery, large numbers of refugees from the rest of Africa, a huge disparity between rich and poor, but despite this, friendly and hospitable people with a never ending sense of humour.

But sadly, with endemic corruption in the ANC government and bankrupt para-statals following the nine year presidency of Jacob Zuma, we can only hope that the new president, Cyril Ramaphosa, will be able to sort out this mess. From the country that gave you “Apartheid”, comes a new term, “State Capture” – a trite synonym for cronyism and corruption.

We will write again from Australia – cheers for now!