A Winter Home

The First Mate hijacked my blog writing, which saw both the last entry and this as a single blog.  She didn’t like the fact that I dismissed the cultural visits in Barcelona in a couple of lines and by the time she’d added enough detail to my otherwise sailing oritented blog it was too long for a single article, so she decided to split it in 2.  Thus you now have the details of her excesses in Barcelona making sure the MA got her ration of culture but you nissed out on some of the exciting detail of sailing “Rampage” down to her winter home – well, now you’ve got it!

Last Friday we started to make our way south, looking for somewhere to call home for the winter.  Our default setting for this was Almerimar, a marina not far from Malaga on the Costa del Sol.  The reasoning behind this was twofold: reasonable prices plus a liveaboard community.  However, it is about 350 miles or so from Badalona, so we were looking at the best part of 2 weeks to get there, always assuming we didn’t wind up getting stuck anywhere by the weather, so we were prepared to look at other possibilities as we journeyed south. 

 

Lovely Josie who came to wave goodbye as we left Ginesta

Our first port of call was Ginesta, about 30 miles down the coast from Badalona.  The first half of the trip was on the motor but we picked up a bit of wind once we’d cleared the main harbour entrance at Barcelona; always a bit of an adventure, dodging the enormous ships entering and leaving.

 

Ginesta has turned out to be the new home for quite a number of folks from Port Vell, which has turfed out many of their long term residents in order to redevelop the place for super yachts.  We made a point of looking up Josie, our neighbour from our first winter aboard, as she and Doug have settled on Ginesta as their new home base, cruising the Balaerics during the summer months.

The local equivalent of the Cornish Pilot Gig – included mainly for the benefit of Polly and Tommy!  Note that the rowlocks consist of simple pin; the oar is fixed to the pin with a loop of rope.

 

From there we went to Torredembarra and then on to Calafat, with the marina fees dropping by a few more euros each night as we drew further away from Barcelona.  We almost decided to stay in Calafat for a couple for nights as the forecast was for strong winds round the Ebro River delta.  In the end, we looked at a more detailed forecast and worked out that we would have a broad reach to the tip of the delta, the wind would then die away and return from the south, giving us another broad reach into Sant Carles.  So we left reasonably early, caught the winds just as forecast and arrived in Sant Carles after a brilliant day’s sailing; we got to within about 200 metres of the marina entrance before we furled the headsail!

 

Looking across to DD pontoon, Sant Carles marina, with the town behind and the mountains beyond.

On our arrival, we were greeted by Patrick from the catamaran “Shecat”, who we knew from last winter in Messilonghi; he and Sheila have berthed their boat here for the next year or so.  We have been very impressed with the standards of this marina and the staff have all been inoculated with the ‘customer service virus’ and are a joy to deal with; nothing is too much trouble and we’re told that if they can’t sort it there and then, it tends to get resolved as quickly as it takes the specialist to arrive on site.  Magic.  So, we sat down and started to do some complicated sums.  We added up the cost of everything not included in the price at Almerimar, then added in the cost of getting there and getting back (as we plan to return to Greece via the Balearics next spring) and suddenly, Sant Carles marina looked more affordable.  Then we went to the office and they offered us a good deal plus effectively a couple of free weeks into the bargain and that was that.  Sant Carles de la Rapita is our winter home this year.

 

“Rampage” settled into her winter berth

This is a link to google earth showing where we’re based  http://maps.google.co.uk/maps?q=Sant+Carles+de+la+R%C3%A0pita,+Spain&hl=en&ie=UTF8&ll=40.619771,0.601158&spn=0.000912,0.001725&sll=53.800651,-4.064941&sspn=5.815838,14.128418&oq=sant+carles+&hq=Sant+Carles+de+la+R%C3%A0pita,+Spain&t=h&z=19 (the centre of the frame is pretty much where we’re berthed) and this link is to the marina website so you can see where we’re living: www.santcarlesmarina.com   The postal address for sending Red Cross parcels containing Cadbury’s Instant hot chocolate, should you feel so moved is as follows:

Julia and Duncan Byrne

‘Rampage’ Berth DD335

Sant Carles Marina

Ctra. Villafranco, s/n

Apartat de Correus 192

43540 Sant Carles de la Rapita

Spain

 

The skipper is much gratified to find himself on pontoon DD (Skipper puzzled by this reference as he’s always fancied quality above quantity…..)

 

Sunset last night. Sadly today is overcast – hence all the cloudy photographs in this particular post.

OK, that’s us for the season, just a little earlier than expected.  We will be doing a bit of pottering locally but not a vast amount, as beyond the lagoons of the delta there isn’t much for a good few miles up and down the coast.  However, there are some serious bird movements round here and we saw flamingos, egrets and other wetland birds on our last visit here with my brother Mike in 2009.

Mad Aunt on the Rampage.

Having escaped the clutches of Tossa de Mar (for some unknown reason our mature, grown-up daughter Polly was in tucks  of laughter about this place,) we made Badalona on 8 September with no real hassle and were promptly sent back to the same berth we had vacated a few weeks before.  This time the internet connection worked so we were able to make sure that my sister Susie (aka the Mad Aunt or MA) understood the instructions for meeting us in Barcelona before she set out to join us.

 

Badalona is an old industrial suburb lying on the coast to the north of Barcelona proper.  It’s not pretty but the marina is good and inexpensive plus there are excellent train and metro links into the city.  Accordingly on the morning of the 10 September we caught a train to Placa Catalunya to meet up with MA.  We had, however, forgotten that the airport train stops at Passeig De Gracia NOT at Placa Catalunya, where we had told her to meet us.  It didn’t help matters that I’d succeeded in turning my mobile to silent so we missed several vital text messages…..  Ah well, we met up in the end and made our way back to “Rampage” by way of a beach bar in Badalona.  (It should just be mentioned here that Susie had probably the heaviest bag of all time – without wheels – having gamely agreed to bring out all sorts of bits and pieces for us ranging from teabags to a new custom-built shelf for our barograph, courtesy of Pam Lynch.  Our sincere thanks to both ladies!) That evening as we were finishing supper we started to hear fireworks and hurried out on deck to watch a truly spectacular show – it was a great welcome for the Mad Aunt.

A welcome beer after an epic game of ‘Hunt the Mad Aunt’ in central Barcelona!

 

After a day to relax and go to the beach, J and she spent the following two days ‘doing’ Barcelona, the winds being no good for sailing, while I tackled a few jobs on “Rampage” before we left the port.  On the Wednesday they spent the morning visiting Casa Batllo – one of the most remarkable of all the buildings designed by Antoni Gaudi. 

A beautiful doorway in Casa Batllo – one of just so many incredible features – a definite Must for anyone visiting Barcelona.

It was one of the sites J and I never visited during our winter in Barcelona 3 years ago and they were both utterly captivated by it and took any number of photos.  They then spent the afternoon pottering about the Gothic area and Las Ramblas, stopping off to see Placa Reial and the main covered market of La Boqueria. 

 

In La Boqueria – the famous covered market on Las Ramblas.

On Thursday J sent MA off alone to visit the Sagrada Familia, having already been there herself a number of times, but she joined Susie afterwards and took her up to Parc Guell – yet another Gaudi creation.    Back in town, they had supper at the Hard Rock Café, ostensibly because the Mad Aunt is collecting their glasses, although methinks the burgers and Long Island Iced Tea (a deadly mix of vodka, tequila, rum, gin, triple sec, sweet and sour mix and Coca-Cola) were the real attraction.  Feeling by all accounts relaxed and mellow, they then made their way to Placa Espanya to watch the music and light show at the fountains before eventually making it back on board around midnight.

 

Long Island Iced Tea and an enormous burger at the Hard Rock Cafe, Barcelona

On Wednesday evening, with the weather set fair for a few days from Friday, we’d had a route planning conference.  MA wanted to go to a ‘pretty anchorage’ and after much discussion and study of the winds, we decided that the best bet was to go to Mallorca.  Thus middle day on Friday, off we set and immediately picked up a westerly wind (force 4 – 5) which was great for a close hauled sail.  We were headed for Mallorca, but then the wind changed a bit, so we shifted our destination to Fornells in Menorca;  early on Saturday morning the wind changed again so we reverted to Plan A and headed for Pollenca in Mallorca.  Flexible or what? 

 

MA however, played no part in these discussions, as despite copious quantities of Stugeron she was laid low by mal de mare.  Although she didn’t actually feed the fishes, she spent most of the time in the cockpit in a horizontal position.   This was particularly sad because Friday just happened to be the Mad Aunt’s birthday and all she was capable of eating for supper was a bit of dried bread, apparently smelling & tasting distinctly of soap.  I should explain that we don’t always serve our bread thus scented but J had just washed the bread bag and it had transferred the perfume of the washing powder straight to the bread!  Yum!

 

Watching out for rays in Pollenca bay!

We arrived in Pollenca in the early morning of Saturday and I dropped anchor single handed leaving the watch below to slumber on.   (It should be pointed out here that a couple of times the skipper sloped off an hour early from his watch so fair’s fair!  J)   Anyway, Susie recovered well from the trip and was delighted with Pollenca and the next 3 days were spent at anchor there.  I had a bout of man flu whilst we were there and spent much of the time in bed whilst the girls frolicked about and enjoyed themselves.  It was very hot and sunny so most of the time was spent in and out of the water; they were particularly thrilled and delighted to see quite a number of dinner-plate sized rays while snorkling.  On our final evening there we had a meal ashore: paella, which for once was nicely cooked with lots of sea food.  (All too often in our experience, ordering paella in a Spanish restaurant leads to disappointment.)

 

A glass of sangria on our last night in Pollenca

We crossed back to Badalona, leaving on Monday evening and arriving about middle day on Tuesday.  The trip was made on the motor as there was no wind worth mentioning, although we did pick up a current which gave us about an extra knot over the ground, cutting a couple of hours of the journey time.    This time, without the waves, MA travelled much better and was able to admire the scenery, and in due course the stars.  Indeed she took the helm for the first couple of hours of the trip.  Once again, on reaching Badalona, the marina put us back on the same berth! 

 

Leaving Mallorca as the light faded.

On Wednesday we all went into Barcelona and visited another of the Gaudi houses, La Pedrera.  I find Guadi’s take on things quite remarkable if a little pretentious.  However, for me what is remarkable is the very advanced building techniques he used which meant that the structural strength of his buildings lay in the internal steel and stone work rather than in the walls.  This meant he could shape the external walls as he saw fit to achieve decorative effects rather than having to shape them as load bearing structures.  Brilliant idea and it lies very much at the heart of many major modern buildings like the Gherkin and the Shard. 

 

We had a very late lunch back at the Hard Rock Café, after which Susie presented both J and me with a commemorative glass which we will treasure carefully.  Finally we took Susie to see the outside of the beautiful Palau de Musica and urged her to try and visit it if she gets the chance when she returns to Barcelona on business next February.  Returning to the boat that evening, where we realised we didn’t need to eat again as the portion sizes at the Hard Rock had rendered any further food redundant!

 

Thoroughly Gaudi-ed out, MA was loaded onto her flight the following afternoon; J and I took her to the airport to ensure she didn’t escape and try to re-board “Rampage”.

International Rescue

But I’ll come to that a little later on…… 

 

We stayed in Port Vendres until 27 August when we sailed back down to Cap Creus to the anchorage we’d left to go to Port Vendres.  We intended to stay for a couple of night before heading back to Cadaques but I was woken by the sound of a rising wind at about 04.30.  The wind had decided to get up early and from the north, blowing us on to the shore; as we were only about 5 metres from the rocks, held by lines ashore, we decided to leave promptly.  20 minutes after waking up, we were lifting the anchor having freed all the lines and recovered the second anchor.  Who says adventure is gone from modern life?  Not for us!  Just navigating out of the anchorage in pitch darkness, (no moon, stars or shore lights) was somewhat un-nerving  as you simply couldn’t see the shoreline and had to rely completely on the chart.plotter.

Arriving in Cadaques under lowering skies

 

We motored round to Cadaques through the growing light under what could only be described as a threatening sky.  Low, dark clouds and vivid lightening strikes on the shore made for an exciting trip, lightened only by being joined by a small pod of dolphins for part of the trip.  Once securely anchored in Cadaques, we retired to bed to catch up on our sleep whilst a couple of thunderstorms tracked through the area.

Classic cigar-shaped clouds presaging a tramontana wind

 

The following day, the long range weather forecast was distinctly gloomy with a tramontana wind forecast to arrive the next day and blow for about a week.  After pondering on this for a bit, we decided that, whilst the Rocna would probably hold out, it would not be a comfortable experience so we would move round to Roses marina and sit the wind out there.

 

We made the trip under sail and arrived there early afternoon, along with a southerly wind which made berthing difficult.  An over-keen marinero in a RIB did help us to avoid dinging our neighbours’ boats but manage to break our forward navigation light in the process.

 

The waterfront at Roses looking across the bay to the marina

 

Roses is a pleasant enough town but quite large so we got the bikes out of the cabin for the first time since arriving in Spain to explore the place.  Since they were well buried at the back of the port cabin, (our main storage area) this led to an unscheduled sort out and re-stowing of the entire contents and took most of the afternoon.  The town is of two parts: the area by the coast is very touristy, full of cafes and T-shirt shops, whilst there is a separate little commercial centre which supports the inhabitants of the town.  Thankfully, this was quite close by the marina, so it wasn’t too far to walk to do the shopping.  There was also a very good hardware store where I was able to replace some bits and pieces that had been used up during the summer.

 

The wind begins to make itself felt

 

The wind arrived 12 hours later than forecast but did it arrive!  Initially J, always reluctant to pay marina fees unnecessarily, queried the need to be there, especially when she spotted a German yacht anchored off the beach, outside the marina.  However, as the wind built we agreed that it looked distinctly uncomfortable.  As the weather worsened, his anchor dragged and he had to be rescued by the Salvamento Maritimo and brought into the marina at which point J began to think of it as perhaps money well spent……

 

The German yachtsman being interviewed by the Cruz Roja prior to being recovered into the marina.

 

I reckon that it was about 30 – 40 knots most of the time but gusting every now and then to over 50 knots.  This went on for the next 5 days with little relief; most of the time it was sunny, although we did get one day of fairly heavy rain, but the wind was relentless.  It blew sand off the beach onto the boat and there was a constant fine spray blown off the sea onto the boat, coating it in a nasty brownish film.  The bikes also suffered the same fate and the wind was so strong we didn’t bother trying to use them.

 

Note the angle with the quayside as the boat is heeled even tied up in the marina, as the wind blows against the bare poles.

 

We spent time on board doing various jobs including making new mosquito nets for the main hatches in the saloon and forward cabin and for the companionway hatch.  The brass got polished, we repacked various cupboards and lockers, throwing away unused junk and generally read too many books.  As the wind began to ease we did venture out and took a walk along the coast one afternoon,went kite flying another day and on the final day we managed to have a bike ride. 

 Eventually, the wind died away and we had a day in the marina to clean up the boat and stow everything away before we left yesterday (6 September) with a few days in hand before we have to be in Badalona to meet up with my sister, Susie.   I should mention that we stayed away from the beach throughout most of our stay in Roses to avoid being sand-blasted but J was obviously missing her daily swim because the day before we left she suddenly, without warning, threw herself into the water.  We were supposed to be heading for the supermarket and a replenishment of our supplies, prior to departure but this had to be postponed while she had a hot shower and recovered her equilibrium.

 

J looking soggy after her unscheduled swim in the marina

 

Our intended anchorage was to be Cala Fornells, about 20 miles or so south of Roses where we had stopped with Maggie and Colin on the way north about a month before.

 

Now we come to the International Rescue bit…..  As we entered the cala, we noticed a pair of men in a small inflatable struggling with a reluctant engine, so we headed over and asked if we could help.  They accepted the offer and so we passed them a line; they asked if we could tow them about a mile back up the coast as that is where they had left their car. 

Towing the fishermen’s dinghy – note the bottom which is threatening to come away completely.

We started the tow but I noticed they were looking uncomfortable in the boat, so we stopped and got them and some of their kit on board “Rampage” and restarted.  Soon after that, I noticed that in addition to a reluctant engine, most of the bottom of the inflatable had come away from the tubes, so we stopped again, shortened the tow so the boat was mostly out of the water and retrieved the last of their possessions.  We then made good speed to where they wanted to be; we picked up a buoy and used our dinghy to tow theirs to the shore and then to deposit both of them safely on land.  Job done. 

 

Duncan tows the first of our rescued fishermen ashore in their damaged dinghy

As a thank you, they offered us their day’s catch; we declined most of the fish, as it was simply too much for us to eat before it would have gone off but we did get a fine pair of sea bream, which we had for supper that evening.  J also insisted on going for her usual swim now we were finally back at anchor and found it rather more pleasant than Roses marina.

 

D prepping the fish for supper

Today, we are in a small bay just south of Tossa de Mar anchored with a couple of other boats and just a comfortable day’s sail from Badalona.

Encore En France

Having spent several days in Cadaques, last Sunday we suddenly decided to move.  There were strong southerly winds forecast and we decided to go back to Cala Culip.   Cala Culip is the far side of Caba Creus and being north-facing is a good option in a southerly.  However, when we got there it was very crowded so we continued on round the coast to the Golfo de Ravener.  This turned out to be lovely.  We went into the first cala (bay) where there were a couple of other yachts and any number of small motor boats there just for the day.  We took long lines ashore and also put out the kedge to prevent us from swinging as there was not much room and we wanted to be well tucked up. 

“Rampage” in Cala Prona, Golfo de Ravener

By nightfall there were just the three yachts left – ourselves, a German boat and a French one and the peace and beauty were heavenly.   A few boats joined us again the next day but it was much less crowded, presumably because it was no longer the weekend and the following two nights we had the anchorage to ourselves overnight.  The whole of the Golfo de Ravener is very attractive; it is a large bay with lots of smaller bays and inlets all round, some with a little pebbly beaches.  On Tuesday we took the dinghy and went exploring a bit and decided there were lots of different places to anchor – all of them very beautiful.  The whole bay is surrounded by steep sided cliffs so the anchorages are mostly relatively deep (i.e. 15m or more) but the water is beautifully clean and clear and the snorkeling was excellent.  Not only was the underwater topography interesting and fun to explore, but there was lots of sea life – coral and so many varieties of fish – I discovered a very fine octopus on one of my swims.  On Monday we spotted divers in the water and having missed out on going for an organized dive in Cadaques because of our hasty departure, we suddenly decided to have a dive here. 

Cruising life doesn’t get much better than this.

This is the first time we have dived from “Rampage” other than to clean the hull of growth from time to time.  There are various reasons for this: 1) generally speaking places where it is good to anchor are not interesting dive sites, 2) it is sensible to dive as a pair and have someone else to provide surface cover and 3) we are always a bit wary of local rules and regulations and not wanting to fall foul of the authorities.  However, we decided to take a chance and had a really lovely dive in very benign conditions – flat calm water, not terribly deep, very good visibility and plenty to see.  I particularly loved it, not having dived since we were in Santa Ponsa, Majorca over two years ago.  D is a bit more jaded but he has probably made 800-900 to my 400 and besides, he really prefers wrecks to pretty plant and fish life.  Anyway, suffice to say, we had a lovely time there and left reluctantly on Wednesday only because we were out of fresh food and almost out of drinking water. 

We decided to head back to Port Vendres for a number of reasons, not least that we knew of a laundry facility there and had been unable to find one in Cadaques.  The trip north was notable because we encountered fog!  This was the first time we have had fog since we sailed down the Atlantic coast of Spain and Portugal three years ago and was a bit of a surprise.  The radar was once more called upon to earn its keep and we tracked other vessels on the screen until they suddenly emerged just a few hundred metres away.  Some of the very small boats used by local fishermen have no radar reflectors so we both kept a careful watch but arrived safely without incident. 

Surrounded by fog.

We thought we’d sit and have a beer on arrival while the water tanks filled and it was only after this that we found we had a small swimming pool in the forward bilges under our bed!  Those of you who are regular followers of this blog will know that this is not the first occasion – indeed the matter is becoming thoroughly tedious now.  We baled and sponged all the water out and then took ourselves off for a belated lunch at a little tapas restaurant across the road.  We had decided to spend 2 nights in Port Vendres, one day of admin and then have a day trip out somewhere.  Now however, it was clear we would need another day in order to try and sort our latest water leakage problem.

Thursday was a busy day.  While D pulled our bed apart and removed everything from the storage locker beneath in order to access the forward water tank, I did numerous trips up and down the hill to SuperU with laundry, shopping and several packs of drinking water.  I also attempted to have our dive cylinders refilled but having stumped round to the far side of the harbour basin with them strapped to the trolley I found that regulations regarding the safety testing of said cylinders varies from country to country.  In UK they must be tested every 2 ½ years, in Spain every 3 but here in France it is every 2.  Since ours were last done in March 2010, as far as the French are concerned they are out of test and could not be refilled.  Why has Brussels failed to address this important topic for goodness sake and issue an EU Directive on the matter?  D meanwhile and walked a considerable distance to an out-of-town bricolage to buy a glue gun.  He had found that the two splits in the top of the water tank which he had previously repaired had both reopened so this is his next idea (along with using the blow torch to ‘weld’ the glue to the tank – seems to have worked but it’s not pretty and only time will tell.)

By this time we were very hot and tired and decided to stop for a rest and some belated lunch but we were then hailed by an English couple from the quayside anxious to discuss the liveaboard lifestyle as they hope to do much the same in a few years’ time.  We invited them aboard for a drink and spent the next hour or so, discussing various considerations, thoughts and pitfalls before embarking on the project.  The boat could not have been more chaotic and I was rather embarrassed but I suppose it was a good thing to see the not-so-glamorous side of liveaboard life and they assured us that we had not put them off at all.  We wish Greta and Jon all the very best as and when they do set sail – it was good to meet you both.

 

Le Train Jaune

 

On one of my trips up the hill I had continued on to the railway station to find out about possible destinations for our day out.  Later that evening we decided we would take a trip on Le Petit Train Jaune which wends its way up into the Pyrenees.  This entailed what for us was a very early start and it was still dark as we walked up to the station yesterday.  The ticket office was closed but in due course the train to Perpignan arrived on schedule and we climbed aboard.  On arrival at Perpignan we found that the ticket office there was also still shut and by the time we had sorted out the automatic ticket machine we had an hour to wait before the next leg of the trip to Villefranche so we went and found a café and coffee and croissant for breakfast.

Along the route

We had planned to catch the 10:00 departure of Le Train Jaune from Villefranche but found that when we arrived that lots of other people had had the same idea and that train was fully booked; we would have to wait for the next.  It seems that they do not start selling tickets for one train until the departure of the previous one so we resigned ourselves to joining the queue and waiting patiently.  However, just before 10:00 a man suddenly announced that there were 10 seats available on the 10:00 train and we were delighted to get two of them.  

Fabulous scenery

The trip was great fun and the scenery was spectacular.  The train winds its way through incredibly narrow mountain gorges, over viaducts and bridges and through numerous tunnels, gradually climbing as it goes.  We took loads of photographs, most of which are not very good and eventually we emerged above the tree line to the high pastures and ski slopes of the Pyrenees. 

The church and auberge of Odeill

We had been advised to go as far as Font Romeu , just over halfway since the full trip is 3 ½ hours each way.  I’d assumed (always foolish) that the town of Font Romeu would be right by the station but we quickly learned that it was an hour’s walk away up hill.  It was midday by this time and very hot so we were relieved to discover the little village of Odeill just 15 minutes walk away where there was a splendid auberge that provided a very good lunch.  (The artichoke tart was particularly delicious!)  Afterwards we visited the village church originally built in about 1050 and photographed the extraordinary-looking solar furnace which is the main claim to fame of Font Romeu, before making our way back to the station for the return trip.  The train back was very crowded and extremely hot.  I wished very much we had elected to ride in the open carriage which, with hindsight, would have been much cooler but we survived and had a restorative drink in a little café in Villefranche before continuing our journey back to Port Vendres.  We were back here by just after 20:00, in time to catch the harbour office before it closed for the evening where we asked to stay for the coming weekend, as once again, strong winds are forecast – and possibly rain.  Being at anchor would not have been impossible but it seems to make sense to stay put.  Tomorrow we plan to go to Collioure so there may just be some photos of that very pretty little place after all, when we publish the next blog.

The solar furnace of Font Romeu

Hola hombres (Spanish for hello mates)

Polly kidnapped the dinghy and went for quite a long row but found it did not really match the handling characteristics of a well-found Cornish pilot gig!

The last blog left you breathless with the anticipation of Polly and Tommy’s day out aboard “Rampage”.  They joined us the day after their second wedding anniversary and we set off round Cap Bear for the day.  There was no wind as we left Port Vendres, so we were reduced to the iron mainsail to travel the couple of miles to a lovely quiet anchorage that we’d spotted on our walk the day before.  Did I say quiet?  If you recall, we’d gone for a walk in the aftermath of a nasty little set of thunderstorms.  This meant that no one had bothered to go out for the day, so the lovely (and large) anchorage had a sum total of 4 boats in it.  When we got there with Polly and Tommy it was as if the D Day landing fleet had gathered there.  You could practically walk from one side to the other on anchored boats packed with excited French folks.

Tommy shows off his turtle tatoo to best effect!

 

Ah well, at least the water was warm and we had a lovely time splashing about the boat.  Polly and Tommy took the dinghy into the beach to investigate before we decided that it was time to return to Port Vendres.  Luckily, the wind had come up (as it often does in the afternoon) and we put the sails up before we hauled the anchor and sailed all the way back into port.  The port authorities, in the shape of a helpful little man, guided us into a very easy to access berth near the entrance to the basin, where we gave an almost perfect demonstration of how to do reverse parking in “Rampage”.

 

That evening we went into Collioure with the younger generation and visited the flat where they were staying.  We took the Cobb barbeque with us and had lovely relaxing time with them before Polly ran us back to the boat.  J had hoped to take some pictures of Collioure but the car parks were all jam packed so we gave up in the end.  It was lovely to see Polly and Tommy and it gave us the chance to talk through all sorts of family bits and pieces.

 

The following day was departure day.  Having looked at the ‘Bloc Marine’ (French equivalent to Reeds Almanac and very helpfully published in French and English) we had come to the conclusion that going further into France wasn’t worth it, as the next 100 miles or so of coast is all low lying with only marinas to stay in.  To add to that, most of the marinas on this coast are part and parcel of large tourist developments as

The main bay at Cadaques

 

The 20 mile hop went quickly under the motor, as there was no wind at all to ruffle the sea.  We anchored in much the same place as we’d stayed with Maggie and Colin and decided to stay here for a few days to just take things easy after what has been a fairly hectic couple of months.  Cadaques is a very attractive little town but very crowded at the moment, particularly at weekends.  The anchorage is off to one side of the main bay behind a rocky spit of land favoured by the local nudists – sorry no pics available!  Dali had a summer residence in the next town of Lligat to which we plan to walk this evening.  Frankly it is too hot to do much by day other than swim and snooze and read books.  The various bits of shade tent etcetera that we made last winter are certainly proving their worth.

 

Having moved out of marinas and back to sea, once again weather watching becomes something of an obsession, especially when we are not in a completely protected anchorage.  Cadaques is open to the south east, so we need to an eye out for prolonged winds from that direction as the anchorage will become uncomfortable if that happens.  As it is, what we had yesterday was strong winds from the north west, which had me sitting up half the night, not so much worried about our anchor as those of folks anchored around us, especially one very large motor boat anchored just up wind of us.  In the event, nothing untoward happened and eventually I got some sleep (and the excuse for a good siesta today!).  We now have light winds before we expect southerlies at about force 4 – 5 in a day or so.

 

Part of the water-front at Cadaques

Our plans at the moment?  Well, we don’t have any really except to get back to Badalona before Susie arrives in early September.  We’ll keep you up to date with things as they go. 

Mandatory pic of the skipper in a bar (nursing his measly daily beer allowance – according to him!)

 

2 days later… since writing the above, we have been unable to get it published due to the aforementioned southerly winds.  Yesterday morning the local police came round the anchorage warning all the boats that strong winds were expected and pointing out (in case we had failed to appreciate the fact,) that we were on a lee shore (ie liable to be pushed towards the shore, should our anchor fail to hold.)  We have much faith in our new anchor but after a trip ashore for bread and milk and to dump the rubbish, we had a quick conference and decided that discretion was the better part of valour – in other words we would bug out!

 

We raised anchor almost immediately as the winds were due within the next hour or so and headed north.  We hoped to round the headland and find refuge in Port Lligat which is an excellent sheltered anchorage.  However, on arrival we discovered that the entire bay is given over to fixed mooring buoys.  This is increasingly our experience this summer in Spain and is becoming frustrating.  It makes us even more inclined to head back towards Greece next year, but I digress.  We were prepared to pay for a mooring buoy for the night but were informed by two chaps in a RIB that there was no space available.  As we turned to leave, as if by magic they suddenly found room for 25m stinkpot – irritating!

                                                         

Cala de Culip, looking west

                         

Anyway, we continued north; the next few anchorages were all exposed to the south so we headed back round Cabo Creus and into the very protected bay of Cala de Culip where we are currently sitting out the 20 -25 knot winds.  The anchorage is surrounded on 3 sides by high cliffs so there are no facilities and we are unable to pick up an internet signal, hence we cannot yet publish this.  The winds are expected to drop this evening and we then hope to have a 2 – 3 hour opportunity to beetle back to Cadaques before the wind swings round to the north.  As this bay is exposed to the north, we will need to escape while we can.  In the meantime, we are much entertained by the anchoring adventures of other craft which are puzzling to say the least.  A French charter boat yesterday attempted to anchor with just 18m of chain and a bit of additional rope.  The depth here is approximately 15m metres and they were taken aback when we told them we had 45m of chain out and that possibly they needed to rethink…….  I am also very puzzled by those people who start to drop their anchor chain and continue to move forward at a rate of knots.  We by no means claim to get everything right all the time as our adventures on this blog will testify but this is curious by any standards. 

The anchorage at Cadaques, taken at dusk. It is separated from the main bay by the rocky outcrop seen to the left of the photo (generally populated by nudists!)

Bonjour Mes Amis!

Duncan raises the French courtesy flag

That’s French you know for ‘hello friends’.  I can almost hear the sharp intake of breath from many of our readers as you realise that this blog comes to you from France.  It had to happen in the end and we entered French waters 3 days ago, bringing Maggie and Colin to Port Vendres so that they could carry on with the second half of their holiday and we could meet up with Polly and Tommy who are staying just north of here.  Now, to fill you in on the detail of how we got here.

 

When we last posted a blog, we were in Pollenca, having made our way there from Portocolom.  On 21 July, whilst we were there at anchor, we had some fairly high winds from the north which caused us to drag our anchor.   It took a couple of goes to get the thing to set again but eventually both the lower wind speed and our efforts got the thing to hold properly.  This latest incident has finally destroyed what little faith I had in the CQR anchor so we resolved to buy a new one of more modern design (the CQR apparently dates back to the 1930s).  The one I craved is a New Zealand design called a Rocna but it is expensive and not easy to come by.

The new rocna anchor

 

Having trawled through the local chandleries it became obvious that there were no suitable anchors in Pollenca, so on 25 July I dragged myself out of bed early and caught the bus into Palma along with our trusty folding trolley to see what could be found.  I hiked along the sea front for miles, visiting various chandleries and in the furthest one from the bus station found a 20kg Rocna.  Result!  Then the agony of hauling the thing back through the streets of Palma on the trolley to the bus station.  I was so knackered by the process, I had to stop and have a whopper at Burger King….

 

Changing over the anchor went well, with no damage to self or boat and we re-anchored in pretty much the same position as we had been in before the wind arrived.  The new anchor set first time and in a very positive way, digging itself into the mud, as opposed to the half hearted lopsided set that the CQR often adopted.  We have not had any high winds since but the variable winds in Pollenca often popped the CQR out in a moderate blow – nothing seems to upset the Rocna.

 

The new anchor in situ.

 

As if to celebrate the solving of this particular problem, J promptly went down a nasty bug.  She’d been feeling below par for a few days but suddenly developed a temperature in excess of 40c and so was sent to bed.  She stayed there for the next 4 days feeling proper poorly; high temperature, headache and listless.  I was on the point of taking the boat into the adjacent marina and summoning the medics when she began to improve and by Sunday morning she was feeling quite a lot better. 

Maggie sets out the minimal dinghy for the start of their trip aboard “Rampage”

 

It was a good job she was, as Maggie and Colin, our next visitors, arrived that afternoon.  They used public transport to make their way from Palma airport and we met them on the quayside.  Unfortunately, the wind had got up a bit and the trip out to “Rampage” was a bit on the damp side.  With the smaller dinghy, I had to do 3 trips; one each for the passengers and one for their baggage.  They were to stay with us for a week and then go on camping in southern France for a week, so they had all their camping gear with them, hence the very large rucksacks.

 

Maggie and Colin aboard “Rampage”

 

As they had had a very early start to their day, Maggie and Colin had a siesta (as did I) whilst J made up for sleeping for most of the previous 4 days by sitting in the cockpit, reading.  She was hailed by a bloke in a dinghy who turned out to be Patrick from the catamaran “Shecat”, who had spent the winter with us in Messilonghi.  J and I left the others snoozing whilst we went across to join Sheila and Patrick for a drink or two.  On returning to “Rampage”, I made my version of paella for supper and peered at the weather files before deciding we could safely set off the mainland the following day.

 

Sunrise on the passage from Pollenca, Majorca to Badalona on the Spanish mainland.

 

The following day we shopped in the morning, filled up with water and in the early afternoon set off for Badalona, a marina just to the north of Barcelona.  It is just over 100 miles and we had a great sail out of Pollenca bay before having to motor the rest of the trip as the wind disappeared in the early evening.  We arrived just before midday and after lunch we all took a siesta to recover from the long night watches – one of which was taken by Colin, who has done a fair bit of sailing before.  It was great to have someone on board who knew what to do and could join in with the running of the boat.

 

Colin at the helm.

 

Badalona is not a bad marina if a bit soul-less and isolated from the town.  We walked into the centre of town looking for a supermarket and finally found one then faced the long walk back with the shopping but were obliged to stop for a drink en route at one of the many beach bars as Mags was having problems with the ground which just wouldn’t stay still for her!  We’d promised ourselves a meal out but although there are a number of restaurants and bars round the marina, most of the turned out not to be functioning so we wandered back along the beach and eventually found a tapas bar where we managed to get something to eat.  As we walked back, we spotted a large supermarket on the other side of the railway line about 100 metres from the entrance to the marina….  Ah well, at least we know it’s there for next time.

 

“Rampage” in Badalona marina – note shade tent, wind scope on front hatch and additional shade panels on bimini – it was HOT!

 

The following day the wind was from the south and so we headed north aiming for the port of Blanes about 20 miles up the coast.  We had a good day sailing but when we got to the port we found that there was no space for us in the marina, so we carried on up the coast, looking at the various anchorages mentioned in the pilot book.  Some were untenable with the waves the wind had kicked off, whilst others were bung full of permanent moorings but eventually we found a nice little place, tucked in behind a little spur of rock.  There were a number of other boats there but most had gone by the time dusk fell leaving us to share the anchorage with a single Dutch yacht.  Maggie and Colin were delighted with the idea of swimming off the back of the boat in the beautiful, clear water of a remote little anchorage without any signs of habitation anywhere; they also had a happy time discussing the geology of the bay, both having studied geology at university.

 

Our first anchorage on the mainland: Cala de Pentiner

 

By the next morning, the wind had swung round to the north and was building nicely, so once again we got a good day’s sailing, covering 40 miles through the water to make 20 miles up the coast.  Once again, we found the anchorages mentioned in the book to have been, for the most part, filled with permanent moorings.  Eventually we were able to anchor off the beach in a cala sheltered from the north wind.  Unfortunately, the swell worked its way into the cala and gave us a fairly   uncomfortable night, as what little wind got down to sea level held us across the direction of the swell.

 

Waterbabies!

 

Our next destination was Cadeques, a delightful deep cala just south of Cap Creus.  The town is next to Port Llobregat, where Dali spent much of his time.  I was worried that the cala would once again turn out to be crowded with moorings and that we would not be able to anchor there.  But first we had to get there!  The wind was from the north again and as we tacked away from our anchorage, we were not making much ground to the north.  I was on the point of suggesting we spent the night in l’Estartit when the wind started to shift to the east and suddenly we were making ground fast.  Yet another great day’s sailing followed and we sailed right into the cala at Cadeques, dropping the sails only as we entered.  Although there are lots of moorings, most of them labelled ‘For Rent’ we found an area off one of the little coves where we could drop the hook.  Maggie and Colin swam ashore to look for a geo cache in the vicinity whilst I took 3 days worth of rubbish ashore for disposal (why do I get all the good jobs?).

 

The anchorage at Cadaques

 

The last stage of the trip was from Cadeques to Port Vendres in France.  Just for a change, there was no wind worth waving a sail at so we motored all the way there, arriving in the early afternoon.  In contrast to many places, the port answered our radio call and instructed us to proceed to the second basin.  The port is quite tight, with not much room to manoeuvre into the berths.  I half hoped that we would get one of the finger berths facing us as we entered but no, we were directed into a berth on the quayside.  I wanted to do the simple thing and go in bow first but that was vetoed by the mate so I had a tricky job getting “Rampage” to behave herself and squeeze into the allocated berth, (which he did with consummate skill, impressing not only Maggie and Colin but also the marinero!  J)

 

Port Vendres is a nice little port, essentially a fishing harbour now mostly given over to the marina, although there are still fishing boats operating out of here.  The port provides free wifi, which is how we are able to post this from France without the hassle of getting hold of a dongle. 

 

Port Vendres. “Rampage” is to the left as you look at the picture, again with lots of shade protection.

 

After booking in, J and Maggie found the laundry which turned out to be a couple of automatic washing machines in a kind of bus shelter affair next to the supermarket fuel station.  We have the impression they have not been there long as a member of staff at SuperU was very excited and keen to show them where it was, and also the dryer has yet to be installed.  As a result “Rampage” was once again the object of curiosity, hung about with copious amounts of washing and generally lowering the tone of the neighbourhood!

 

Maggie and Colin left us on Sunday 5 August after we helped them move their enormously heavy rucksacks to the railway station.  That evening Polly and Tommy came over from Collioure where they are staying in Tommy’s Dad’s flat.  They took us back over to Collioure for dinner.  Although Port Vendres is a nice enough place, Collioure has it knocked into a cocked hat.  It is a delightful little town huddled round the fortress which protects the little harbour; we can’t fit in there as they can only take boats up to 6.5m long.  There are some mooring buoys but looking at the way boats were rolling, I think we’ll stick with the comfortable if marginally less picturesque Port Vendres.

 

Walking to Cape Bear

 

Yesterday, after a stormy night and morning, J and I dug out our walking boots and hiked round Cap Bear, just to the south of the town.  We had a lovely walk but were well tired afterwards and had to have a nap before facing the rigours of cooking supper.

 

Today has been dedicated to doing some bits of maintenance and writing this blog.  We plan on taking Polly and Tommy sailing tomorrow before we start making a slow progress back south to meet up with my sister Susie in mid September in Barcelona, (‘though we may venture a bit further into France first! J)

Wind in the Balearics

Nice allusion to that classic boating tale, Wind in the Willows I thought.  And appropriate too as the winds once again dominate our life just at the moment.  We’re swinging on a buoy in Porto Colom yet again as we wait for the wind to blow itself out.  Indeed, it may even be the same buoy we used when Naomi and Ken were here…..

 

Tanya and Jack with Duncan aboard “Blank Canvas” – we owe them a drink!

 

We left you as J’s sister, Lizzie, departed “Rampage” in Pollenca.  We accompanied her to Palma to see her off although not before having a few excitements over her passport (left on the boat,) and my kindle (left at the bus stop.)  Suffice to say it all ended happily, thank goodness and on our return to Rampage that evening we discovered a note from Jack and Tanya who we met originally whilst overwintering in Barcelona.  We made contact and arranged to get together for a drink aboard “Blank Canvas” after Jinny’s arrival.  In the meantime, having moved out to the anchorage, the winds having finally abated, we hired a car and returned to Palma 24 hours later to pick Jinny up at the airport.  On returning to Pollenca we had a great meal in a tapas bar before heading on out to the boat.  We remained on the anchor for a second night in order to spend time with Jack and Tanya before setting off for Minorca.  Yes, we actually made it there this time, anchoring off Ciudadela.  Jinny had had difficulty sleeping the first two nights due to the noise of water lapping.  Her third night was spent in a very rock and rolly anchorage in Ciudadela but this time she slept like a log.  Was she starting to get her sea legs or maybe it was all the wine she & J consumed that evening?…. 

 

Jinny enjoys the warm Mediterranean sea!

 

From there we went round the corner of the island to the north shore and on to Fornells, where we picked up a buoy and settled in for a couple of days.  On the Saturday, J and I left Jinny on board whilst we went ashore to do the shopping.  As we made our way back to the tender, we met Jane and Clive from “Jane G” coming the opposite direction.  So we had a coffee and arranged to meet up that evening for a drink or two…..

Jinny with Clive aboard “Jane G” …

 

… and Jane G herself!

We remained in Fornells for a further couple of days; there appeared to be some sort of minor fiesta going on so there were lots of craft and food stalls to browse.   

The cake stall which so delighted our guest!

We then made our way round to Mahon, having been told that the anchorage there was once again open to boats to spend up to 3 nights there.  It is a lovely little place, fairly crowded but very picturesque under the walls of the old fortifications.  At the behest of the mate, we rose at 0615 next morning however and departed soon after, heading to Porto Colom in order to be back on Mallorca in comfortable time for Jinny’s return to the UK.  We had a good trip there, mostly on the motor as there was little or no wind.

 

We’ve been on the buoy here ever since.  Jinny left on 12 July, catching the bus to Palma and then a second one on to the airport; once again there was a drama on her departure due to a delay in the bus to Palma which led to her catching her flight by the skin of her teeth.

 

Now, there has been bereavement in the “Rampage” familyw this week.  Our dinghy, which has been showing signs of age, finally decided to settle into a terminal decline.  The deck started to come undone from the tubes, threatening to dump any passengers straight into the water.  Surgery was attempted but, sadly, it failed.  So we decided, reluctantly, that the poor old thing should be put out of its misery and a new one purchased.  So having seen Jinny off last Thursday, we once again we hired a car and drove to Palma (I think we may be single-handedly keeping the rental companies in business!) the next day to visit various chandleries and bought a new, somewhat smaller, dinghy.  We are not yet settled on whether to keep it or not, as it may prove to be too small – it can best be described as a minimal dinghy!  Ah well, at least we no longer have 3 or 4 inches of water sloshing round our ankles as we make our way ashore!

Our new and “rampaging” (if somewhat minimal) dinghy

 

After Jinny left, the winds were quite high and from the north, so we stayed on the buoy in Porto Colom several days.  No real excitements except for Saturday, when the winds were at their peak.  I had, I thought, tied the brand new dinghy securely to the back of the boat.  J and I sat below ignoring the shrieking of the rigging and general swaying round of the boat as the wind vented itself.  Then I happened to look out of the back of the boat – errrrr, no dinghy. 

 

You get a feeling of slight panic on discovering something like this, especially when there’s a gale blowing, as it means you’re stuck on board and can’t get ashore, since trying to come alongside anywhere in such a wind is not something to be undertaken lightly.  Nothing else for it: I put a tee shirt, shoes, towel and mobile phone into a dry bag and swam ashore to hunt for the dinghy on the lee shore of the bay.  Luckily, Porto Colom bay is almost completely enclosed so there was little chance of the dinghy having made it to the open sea.

 

In the end, I spotted the dinghy being rescued in the middle of the bay by another yachtsman.  Setting out from his catamaran in his own tender, he had caught up with ours and then his own  outboard failed; he took some of our fuel but still couldn’t get his engine going, so he transferred to our dinghy and made his way back to his catamaran.  In the meantime, I was doing my impression of a mad man on the shore, trying to attract his attention.  This failed but his companion on board did spot me and to our relief we were reunited with the dinghy.

 

Our very memorable meal out for J’s birthday

 

That evening, it being J’s birthday, we went out for supper, winding up in a restaurant  looking over mooring.  J had mussels to start whilst I had garlic prawns followed by a chateaubriand, accompanied by an excellent bottle of rose.  Still not too sure of how we made it back to the boat ….

 

To demonstrate just how very windy it was, our line to the mooring buoy wore right through! Thankfully the skipper had had the foresight to put on a second “safety” line as insurance!

 

Monday was still too windy to leave, so we stayed for one more night before heading north towards Pollenca again, stopping off in Cala Molto that night.  At the moment we are on a mooring buoy under the lighthouse but plan to go over to the anchorage tomorrow for several reasons.  Firstly we need fuel, water and victuals and also it is very rock and rolly here with the wake from all the passing power boats (mostly Italian!) and day trip boats.  Not sure we would recommend it although the water is lovely and clear here for swimming.  Indeed we dug out our scuba gear this morning in order to clean the hull but decided very  quickly that little needed doing other than the waterline.  J’s hard work keying the coppercoat whilst we were on the hard has obviously paid off.

Some of the many highly decorated boats in Porto Colom Bay on Monday evening as the town celebrated some fiesta or other – we joined in with all the fun!

A Summer of Visitors

Firstly, abject apologies for not getting this up on the web before now but things have been a little busy as you will see if you read on…..Our last blog was posted from Lipari in the Aeolian Islands as we waited for the weather window to make out crossing to Cagliari in Sardinia. The wind had been set from the west but eventually it went round to the north and was then forecast to drop away almost completely. We had reckoned that the trip would take us about 2 days, so we left about mid day so as to get in during daylight hours.

Having filled up both the water tanks and the fuel tank (and a couple of extra cans) we set off for Cagliari on 17 May. We had good winds for the first few hours before it died away as forecast and then we motored for most of the next day and a half. The wind, again as forecast, came up as an easterly the morning of 19 May when we were about 70 miles off Cagliari, giving us a great finish to the harbour. The marina we found was tucked up in the corner of the large main harbour, which is itself largely confined to ferry traffic as there is now a large container port just to the south. The marina was secure enough but only had basic facilities; at least they weren’t charging too much.

The cathedral and old town of Cagliari, Sardinia, perched on the hilltop above the modern city

Cagliari is a big city – perhaps the size of Chester – with an historic centre surrounded by the usual modern high rise stuff. The marina is about 30 minutes walk from the town and nearest shops, so the bikes eventually proved their worth although it was nearly a week before J plucked up courage to dig out her bicycle and brave the terrifying Italian road traffic.. I had had a phone call from my sister, Jinny, who was at her wits end trying to manage the care of both my parents, so I thought it best to go back to UK for a visit to help her sort things out. The boat was in a secure place and there were direct flights to Stanstead from the local airport. Our next door neighbours (a Dutch couple) let me use their internet access to book a flight and left on 21 May, catching the flight at just before midday.

In the meantime, J was home alone in a rather wet and windy Cagliari. The marina has a couple of ancient Fiats that can be rented by the hour for shopping trips and the like; she’d used one to take me to the airport and then did a big shop on the way back to the boat. The rest of her time alone in Cagliari was uneventful apart from a fairly alcohol-fuelled Saturday evening in the marina bar with other like-minded folk. Oh, and the phone refused to play after a few days, leaving her without any way of keeping in contact with people, which she found most frustrating.

I got back to the boat after a week in UK helping to sort out the care arrangements for my parents and taking a bit of the load off the others’ shoulders. Luckily, the weather was with us this time, and the winds were favourable for a departure to Mallorca on Wednesday. So on Tuesday we rented a marina car again and did a big shop, getting in 3 – 4 days worth of food and restocking on such vital items as beer.

We left Cagliari just after 10am on 30 May and motored down towards the tip of Sardinia before we picked up a wind from the just the wrong direction. We then spent the next 12 hours or so tacking round the tip of the island, covering about 70 miles to gain only about 40 miles or so over the ground. It was great sailing but slightly frustrating when you’re trying to cover the best part of 230 miles between ports.

Hoisting the Spanish and Balearic courtesy flags en route to Mallorca

We rounded the tip of the island by about midnight and as we did so, the wind disappeared, so we dropped the sails and motored for the rest of the trip. A bit frustrating but there’s not much that you can do about it! We caught sight of land at 3.20 pm on 1 June and entered Porto Colom some 4 hours later, dropping anchor at 8.50pm. The crossing is the longest we’ve done since the Bay of Biscay on our way out here and we felt quite pleased with ourselves. This season we’ve been doing 3 hours on watch followed by 3 hours off and have found this is a much better pattern than the 2 hours stints we used last time we did any long trips.

Jess and Charlie making sandcastles on the beach.

Anyhow, we’ve done 1124 miles since we left Messolonghi and made it to Mallorca 2 days before our daughter, Naomi and her family arrived from Dublin.

Lily and her daddy at the water’s edge

We moved on to a mooring buoy closer to the shore on Sunday and prepared the boat for an invasion by small folks; clearing the starboard cabin and generally making sure nothing dangerous could be found by inquisitive hands.

Jess and Lily throwing bread for the fish from the back of “Rampage”

Naomi and Ken arrived late afternoon on Monday 4 June with their children Charlie, Jessica and Lily. Naomi, Ken and Lily had a room in a hotel just over the headland from us, whilst the 2 older children slept with us on the boat.

We had a great ten days with the family, only marred by the winds which precluded any trips out in ‘Rampage’ except for a short aborted trip into a nasty mixed sea and high winds; we cut things short after about ½ an hour as it became obvious that whilst J and I might well have been having fun in the wind, no one else really understood what was going on and all the shouting (so a deaf skipper could hear) was upsetting all.

Instead, we visited the old train from Palma to Soller, the beach, the Marineland dolphin attraction, the beach, Aqualand and various ice cream parlours. Charlie and Jess both abandoned their arm bands having mastered the art of swimming in the hotel pool and Charlie, Ken and I also watched the opening games of the European Cup competition.

Naomi, Jess and Lily above the bay at Cala Marsal where their hotel was just a short walk from Porto Colom

Naomi and family left on 14 June, taking a direct flight back to Dublin with Aer Lingus. Earlier the same morning, I had dropped J off at the airport as she flew back to UK to join her sister Lizzie for her 60th birthday celebrations. Lizzie and John were joined by J and her brother Ian at Gordon Ramsey’s restaurant in Chelsea, where they had a truly memorable lunch.

Our son, Jonno, with Duncan’s parents.

J stayed with our son, Jonno and wife, Lucy in London before embarking on an energetic series of visits to Jinny and my parents (Cheshire), my other sister,Susie (Lancaster), friends Susan and Andy (Carlisle), Kath (Newcastle) and brother, Mike (Wrexham) before flying back to Spain on 24 June, in company with her sister Lizzie.

 

Andy and Susan Mills who generously arranged for the Olympic flame to visit Carlisle the night I went there to see them.

 

In the meantime, I was joined in Porto Colom by Pete Lynch, an old friend from Shrewsbury days. We had a great week, sailing round Minorca. In Ciudadela, we ran into the opening of the fiesta of San Joan, where they carry decorated sheep round the street to the accompaniment of pipes and drums. Weird but the locals seem to be deeply moved by it….. From there we had a great days sailing round to Fornells on the north coast and then on to Addaya, where I awoke from my afternoon nap to discover Bob and Lesley in ‘Moon Rebel’ had dropped anchor in just behind us. We had a great chat before heading up to the restaurant serving the best ham and eggs in the Med, only to discover that it had unfortunately closed down. We found an adequate replacement just round the corner and then watched the football on the tv in the obligatory mock Irish bar.

Waking up the following morning, we realised that our time appreciation for the passage back to Porto Colom was out by about 4 hours; we need to leave immediately if we were to get back there before dark, so we left at the rush, neglecting to say farewell to the crew of ‘Moon Rebel’ – Bob and Lesley if you read this, please accept my belated apologies! (Sorry – no pics of Pete’s visit available.  The Ed)

Pete and I then had a couple of days taking things easy before he headed back to UK leaving me to clean the boat up before J returned for a white glove inspection. I picked her and Lizzie up late on 24 Jun and brought them back to the boat; interesting experience for Lizzie as it marked the first time she had used a dinghy to get from shore to boat, made all the more exciting by the great bulk of J’s enormous suitcase filling the dinghy.

Julia’s sister, Liz, enjoying supper aboard “Rampage”

J’s suitcase was so large as it had to accommodate a replacement for the Fortress anchor we lost in Rocella Ionica. We have, we think, started a minor new export industry; buying large, second hand suitcases in charity shops, filling them with stuff for the boat and then dumping them at the nearest skip when emptied. It works out a good deal cheaper than paying sleazyjet a fortune to fly an empty suitcase back to UK, plus it avoids having to store a suitcase on board.

After a pause to draw breath, we set off to repeat the previous week’s trip round Minorca. It was not to be. The forecast gentle westerlies turned into force 4 -5 northeasterlies – directly where we were trying to head. So, we spent the day tacking into the wind and tucked up for the night in a little place called Cala Molto, about 25 miles north of Porto Colom. It’s a lovely little anchorage with a resident school of fish that have learned to hang round the stern of yachts anchored in the cala in the hope of scraps. They attack any small object entering the water with gusto and excitement.

The next morning, the wind was back to doing what the forecast had said it would, so the anchor was hauled in and we motored round to Puerto Pollensa on the north west tip on the island. We’ve been here ever since, as the weather has not been kind to us. Well, actually, the weather hasn’t been all that bad but the forecast has been pretty dire, so we opted for the safe option and scuttled into the port here and got a berth for a few days. The winds then didn’t appear as forecast but hey, we have unlimited water and electricity for a change. On Saturday we hired a car and made the trip to Soller, as we couldn’t do so by sea. It’s a lovely little place that we visited last time we were here. We also went to Deia, where Robert Graves lived for many years; I found a nice little bar whilst J and Lizzie spent some time going round his house; result!

 

Lizzie on a blusterous quayside in Pollenca on her final evening with us, with threatening clouds behind.

 

Today (Sunday 1 July), the forecast winds did finally arrive and we’ve had some nasty swinging gusts coming through along with fairly heavy rain showers. J and Lizzie have been looking round various bits of local craft and tapas – all part of the local fiesta – whilst I have been relaxing on board. Tomorrow, Lizzie flies back to UK, so we have decided to have a bus trip into Palma to see her off. On Tuesday, my sister Jinny arrives for her visit; the weather forecast is such that we might just make it to Minorca.

Jinny is due to stay with us until 12 July, when we will take a few days to sort ourselves out before setting off for the south of France to meet up with our younger daughter, Polly and husband, Tommy. We have been told by the skipper of the French boat 2 down from our berth that the harbour of Coulliere (where they are staying) is ‘very poor’, so we will be making for the one to the south of there, I think!

Anyhow, you can now see how busy we’ve been over the past few weeks, which is an explanation for the delay in getting this up on the web. I’ll try and do better and get something out about Jinny’s stay whilst she is still with us!

I think we would both acknowledge that we are extremely fortunate to be in a position to live this life – we are still in our 50s, our children all grown and independent and we have just about enough dosh to get by.  Of course, not everyone would choose to live in a 40ft sailing boat, but most of the time we love it.  We both enjoy messing about in boats and relish the stress-free, simple life untroubled by rush hour traffic, deadlines and performance targets.

 

Did I say stress-free?  Hmm, well not always.  Though pretty good, this is not paradise and intermittently there are stressful incidents that intrude upon what is generally a fairly trouble-free existence.  Since leavingGreecejust over a week ago, we have had a few such moments…

 

We posted our last blog fromCrotonebefore setting off for the Straits of Messina and theAeolian Islands.  There are not many places to stop along the south coast ofItalyand so, having studied the weather forecasts, we decided to make the trip to Vulcano – the most southerly of theAeolian Islands- in a single hop of approximately 200 miles.  We reckoned this should take us roughly two days, with north-westerly winds of F3-4 to speed us along, then dropping almost completely away, just as we would reach the Straits, thus enabling us to make the passage north in relative ease.  There are strong currents in the Messina Straits and we didn’t want to have to contend with a head wind as well.

 

Approaching Lipari as the light begins to fade……

We leftCrotoneon Saturday at just after 7am, motoring until 10am when we started to pick up some wind.  15 minutes later we were putting reefs into both the main and the foresail.  Well, the wind came and went.  At noon we had F5-6; an hour later we had to drop the sails and motor.  This pattern continued throughout the day with us battling fairly strong winds one minute and then having to motor then next.  By 6.30pm we were again coping with a F5 which was far more westerly than expected, such that we had to tack into it.  The sea was choppy and we were both feeling tired so we made the decision to go into Rochella Ionica for the night, this being a small harbour betweenCrotoneand the Straits.  We reckoned we should just make it in daylight.  We didn’t and we foolishly ignored the advice of Rod Heikell who warns in the Italian pilot book against attempting a night entry to the harbour because of the shifting sandbars.  All seemed to go well ‘though the tension aboard was palpable as we approached and as we reached the harbour entrance, I was starting to put out fenders and mooring lines when we came to a gentle halt on the aforementioned sandbar. 

 

It rapidly became apparent that using the throttle was not going to resolve the matter so we decided to try another tactic.  Having dug out the Danforth kedge anchor and put the dinghy in the water,Duncantried to row off with it but the wind at that point was such that as soon as he stopped rowing to try to launch the anchor, he found himself being blown back towards the boat.  Eventually, frustrated, he gave up and came back to get the outboard.  In the meantime other craft were coming into the harbour and we were sitting bang slap in the entrance.  With the working light on, we were pretty well lit up but it was nevertheless, an added pressure to see the red and green lights of an approaching vessel heading straight for us.   Having finally managed to drop the kedge anchor he brought the line back and I attached to the spinnaker halyard.  This we led back to one of the winches and, I cranked away, gradually leaning the whole boat over to port.  We hoped that by doing this we would “pop” the keel out of the sandbank as we were not deeply embedded.  When this didn’t work, he took our second kedge – the beloved Fortress – out behind us and led the line back for me to haul in on.  Doing this I managed to turn “Rampage” right round and eventually we felt ourselves moving.  By this time,Duncanwas back on board and at the helm and as all either of us wanted was to get out into the safety of deep water so he accelerated away.

 

Earlier in the proceedings, he had said that if need be, we would ditch one or both anchors and had given me his dive knife to cut the lines if necessary.   The Danforth had a small fender where the anchor warp attached to the spinnaker halyard.  As we pulled away the anchor warp somehow became entangled with one of the dinghy oars and one of the headsail sheets and was pulling tighter and tighter as we pulled away.  In my panic I failed to appreciate that the little fender was somewhere at the top of the mast and all I had to do was pull down on the warp and pull the quick release catch on the halyard.  Instead I cut the anchor warp and we pulled away but the Danforth was gone for good.  The Fortress we still hoped to recover; Duncan had released the line with another small fender attached and once we were in 3-4 metres of water he left me making slow circles with “Rampage” while he went back to recover it in the dinghy.  Unfortunately the little fender was obviously not man enough for the job and had sunk without trace. 

 

To crown the adventure, we noticed as we set off to sea once more that the forward navigation lights were no longer working. Duncantried to see what the problem was but was unable to sort it so we proceeded with even more vigilance than usual.  Although we were visible, other craft would not be able to distinguish port from starboard, and thus our direction of travel.

 

The castle which lies in the middle of the town of Lipari, dominating the bay.

Relieved to be afloat once more, with no damage to ourselves or “Rampage”, we resolutely turned our backs on Rochella Ionica and continued on towards the Straits.  By now it was nearly midnight andDuncanwas exhausted so I sent him to bed and took first watch.  At 3am I roused him and collapsed into bed myself, taking over again at 6am in time to see the sun come up.  The wind had disappeared but we both agreed that we needed to stop and recover our equilibrium so we would not go all the way to Vulcano but instead go into the marina on the eastern side of the Messina Straits at Reggio Calabria.  We reached there without further incident and were berthed by just after midday.  I’d leftDuncanto sleep until shortly before we arrived there but he’d only managed to doze so, having seen everything was in order, we both fell into bed and slept for several hours.

 

We could do nothing about either the navigation lights or replacing either spare anchor that day as it was a Sunday and everywhere was closed.  Having studied the pilot book, we decided to revise our plans once more, and rather than going to the anchorage on Vulcano, we would head for Lipari – the biggest of theAeolianIslandwhere we would find chandleries, provisions and hopefully – internet connection.

 

Thus on Monday morning we set off once more, but by now we needed fuel.  The fuel berth at Reggio Calabria yacht harbour was not open – presumably because it was too early in the season to be viable – we were the only visiting yacht in the place.  However, the pilot book assured us that there was a fuel berth on the other side of the  Straits, just north ofMessina.  So off we went, dodging fast-moving ferries in all directions and battling with the current, only to discover after having tied up, that this fuel berth too, was out of commission.  There was nothing else for it but to carry on and we did have about a quarter of a tank so we reckoned we should make it to Lipari ok.  The going was very slow in the Straits.  With the engine at 2000 revs, we were only managing 1-2 knots over the ground whereas under normal conditions, we would expect to do about 6+ knots.  However once out of the Straits, we were able to sail, although again, we were having to tack which slowed our progress.  As a result it was dark once more as we approached Rada di Lipari.  It looked very attractive with the castle on the promontory all lit up but it was incredibly difficult to make out the pontoons that were supposedly to the north of it.  We approached with caution and then made our way north round the bay, eventually spotting the masts of a couple of other yachts.  We circled close in a couple of times shining torches to see whether we would need to use our anchor to “Mediterranean moor” or whether there were laid mooring lines provided. 

 

The amphitheatre in the grounds of Lipari castle, looking out over the bay.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the above terms, the generally accepted way to moor in this part of the world is known as “Mediterranean Mooring” for obvious reasons.  Instead of tying up alongside which is the norm in the UK, you go either stern or bows-to, using your anchor to hold you off the quayside and lines ashore to secure you.  With laid mooring lines the idea is that rather than using an anchor, you use the boathook to snag a light line attached to the quayside/pontoon.  This leads out to a heavier line anchored to the sea bed which you take to one of the forward cleats.

 

In this particular case, there were laid moorings and I picked up the line without too much difficulty but it rapidly became obvious that it was far too heavy for me to cope with.  We repeated the exercise with me at the helm and evenDuncanhad a terrific struggle to haul the line tight and fasten it round a forward cleat while I attended to the stern lines.  However eventually we were tied up safe and sound and able to set off in search of a restaurant and a fairly belated evening meal.

 

Now then, way back in the Ionian, we’d had a problem on the trip up to Paxos with water.  The floor mat by the galley was found to be saturated with salt water – always a worry.  The galley cupboards all proved to have some water in them as did the bilges in the saloon.  Various causes were considered and then to our relief we noticed water on the shelf up behind the galley where there is a small and fairly useless hatch that we never open.   This is partly because it is always blocked by the tea and coffee jars etc but also because it is worryingly close to the water line.  However at some point over the winter I must have felt moved to clean it and had not quite closed it again sufficiently tightly.  The water was a nuisance but the explanation was a huge relief.

 

Now, however, in Lipari I found that there was salt water in my shoe locker in the forward cabin.  Further exploration revealed yet more water in the bilges under our bed – oh deep joy!  Everything had to be hauled out (quite a task I can assure you!) and having sponged it out, it was left to dry out thoroughly.  We have put nothing back yet and it has not refilled so the conclusion we have come to is that water is getting in via the stanchions and/or toe rail on the port side.  This is only an issue when we are well heeled and taking water over the bows.  Again it’s a bore, but resolvable and will wait until we reachSpain.

 

We spent two nights in Lipari; it’s an attractive little place and we had a happy time pottering about exploring the shops and the castle on the promontory (see above.)  

One of the chandleries produced a new Danforth anchor of the appropriate size plus 60 metres of line so thankfully we have a kedge again.  The Fortress will be harder to replace in this part of the world but we shall try to do so at some stage as it has the dual virtues of being extremely light yet excellent holding.  The nav lights turned out to be merely a question of a new bulb so by yesterday we were ready to set out once more for our original destination – the anchorage on Vulcano.   Before departing we topped up the water tanks and then went to the fuel berth – thankfully open this time, filling our two extra canisters and the outboard fuel canisters as well as the main tank.

 

There was very little wind on the short crossing to Vulcano and as is my way in such circumstances, after we’d set off I went below to tidy up and do some cleaning.  T’was then that I discovered yet more water in the cupboards under the galley.  Lifting the bilge cover in the saloon we found that there was 4 – 5 inches of water down there – no small matter – and the electric bilge pump whichDuncanchecked in the winter, decided it didn’t want to play.  So it was that we spent the journey down to Vulcano madly pumping the bilges by hand.  The water issuing from the back of the boat as we did this was a delicate blue in colour so we knew the source.  One of those blue toilet disinfectant blocks has, at some point, fallen into the bilges from the cupboard in the aft head where the water pump is located.  Ever since, whenever we’ve had problems with the fresh water system is always winds up in the bilges a tasteful blue colour. 

 

The exploded pressure vessel from the water system – this is why the bilges were full of fresh water!

I have to say that at this point that the Skipper was close to throwing in the towel, renouncing boats and a nautical way of life and returning to bricks and mortar.  I reminded him that a bad day on the water is better than a good day in the office which he grumpily conceded and a short investigation found the cause of the trouble.  The water pump equaliser is a plastic chamber which evens out the pressure flow to the pipework and it had ruptured.  For the time being,Duncanhas managed to by-pass this so we have water, although only half as much as we should have since the 150 litres from the aft tank had by then emptied itself into the bilges.  As I mopped out the last of it from the bilges I reminded myself that at least it wasn’t diesel.  Our dear friends Corinne and Claudio lost a similar amount of diesel last summer when one of their fuel tanks sprang a leak…

 

So there you have it.  We are currently at anchor in Vulcano and maybe tomorrow I will climb to the top of the crater and take some pictures for the next blog.  All theAeolian islandsare volcanic although only two are still active: Stomboli which we visited two years ago and Vulcano.   People come here to wallow in the sulphurous mud pools which supposedly have healing properties.  I keep trying to persuade the Skipper to take a dip for his many and varied joint and muscular problems but so far he has declined.  I have to say the stink at times is fairly off-putting!   It’s pleasant here otherwise and so we’ll stay another couple of days while the weather remains settled.  We found an internet café yesterday so hopefully we will be able to get this posted today.  We were relieved to be able to get online and check the weather forecasts which predict a blow on Monday, so on Sunday we’ll return to the shelter of Lipari.  There we will try to replace the water pressure equaliser (remember that?) and fill up with water (!) and fresh provisions before we head off on another longish passage toSardinia on Tuesday.

The crater of the volcano on the island of Vulcano.

Leaving Greece

In common with many folks, we’ve been fairly busy of late and this blog was started some time ago and never got finished.  Anyhow, it was started and I don’t see any reason not to continue it, provided you know its likely to be a bit disjointed, perhaps…

 

Big Vathi, Ithaca

 

We are moored in what is known in this part of the world as ‘Big Vathi’ the main town on the island of Ithaca, home of Odysseus.  In common with everywhere except Nidri the place is empty, with only the locals and us in the place!  It is wonderful to be able to moor here with no competition for space and watch the place starting to come back to life after the winter shut down.  Folks are busy slapping paint on the frames of sun awnings, digging out tables and chairs and generally getting their act together before the paying public starts to arrive in their hordes.  I suppose that in some ways it must be closer to the way it was before the flotilla companies got into the act.

 

The last blog ended with us in Spartahouri on the island of Meganissi.  The time we spent there was very pleasant although the weather was a bit wet and windy.  Joan and J took a few walks about the place and we ate on one another’s boats.  Once the winds had died down, we returned to Nidri and then on to Vliho Bay, where we found Messilonghi Reunion, with no less than 3 boats we knew from the winter all anchored off.

 

Having been watching the weather forecasts carefully, we knew that there was a blow due to come through on the Tuesday/Wednesday, so we were all prepared with provisions laid in and sat out the ensuing winds keeping a close eye on how the anchors were holding.  In the event, only Wishbone dragged her anchor and had to move down the bay to reset it.

 

Lesley and Bob entertaining aboard “Moon Rebel”

 

Once the blow had gone, we all met up ashore at Vliho Yacht Club for a meal with an English flavour to it – staples like fish and chips, sausage and chips and curry (and chips if you really must).  Just occasionally you need a fix of the naughty things from home and this was just the right time; good company and the memories of a nasty gale to eradicate.  It also happened to be quiz night and we formed a couple of teams but didn’t win.  I fear the locals were just a bit too serious and we really needed someone who reads OK or Hello to complete the picture round!

 

On Saturday, together with Lee and Joan, we decided to move on to Big Vathi (Little Vathi is on Meganissi), so we weighed anchor (with a lot of effort breaking ours out, as it had been well dug in by all the wind), stopped briefly in Nidri to shop and then had a really great day sailing on a westerly wind down here to Vathi.  We haven’t been here before – for some reason we always stayed at Frikes when we came to Ithaca.  It is an amazing place, hidden away from all but the fiercest winds.  Andy and Susan had suggested that we use the northern quay as the town quay is often rolly, so we moored stern to and have had a lovely time here, looking across the harbour to the town about ¾ of a mile away.

 

Not long after getting together, Joan and Lee came round for a drink or three and we discovered liquid in the bilges.  Further investigations showed this to be BEER.  We had bought quite a lot of cheap beer from Lidl before leaving Messolonghi.  We stored this in the bilges, as being a safe place and nice and cool.  Unfortunately, at some point we must have got a little sea water into the bilge and it had corroded the bases of the beer cans such that some of them sprung leaks, releasing beer into the soup in the bilge and further hastening the end of some of the cans.  In the end, we lost about 1/3 of the stock and wound up keeping the remainder in a bucket in the aft cabin, which soon smelled like a pub on a wet afternoon as yet more cans sprung leaks.  A very, very upsetting occurrence.

 

A very empty Sivota

 

After a couple of night in Vathi, Wishbone set off for their summer cruise down round the Peloponnese, while we returned yet again to Vliho and the Yacht Club to see if our post had arrived.  It hadn’t, so we did some shopping and left for a couple of days round the headland in Sivota.  We had stayed in Sivota last summer and really liked it.  This early in the season, it was even better, if anything, and as with Big Vathi, there was no competition for a space on the quay.  We had decided that if the post hadn’t arrived by the time we returned to Vliho, we would leave anyhow, as time was now beginning to get short for the long trip to Mallorca.  When we returned two days later, the others had left but Jean Luc aboard “Tranquilla” was anchored in the bay.  We waved a salute but didn’t manage in the end, to go over and greet him.  When we went up to the yacht club we found that my medicine had arrived but not the new Kindle battery.  We celebrated this with a slap up meal including puds in the Yacht Club and staggered back to Rampage feeling very full.

 

Still undecided about departure dates, we got up on the Saturday morning, looked at routes and timings and decided on the spot to leave then and there for Paxos.  This entailed one of the fastest departures from an anchorage yet seen – about 12 minutes – and we made the opening of the ferry bridge on the Lefkas Canal with minutes to spare.  The trip from there to Gaios on Paxos was great, as we picked up a good wind which let us sail nearly all the way from the canal to Gaios.

 

A ferry boat standing-in for the usual floating bridge at the northern end of the Levkas canal.

 

After a quiet night in Gaios, where we met up with a French boat from Messolonghi,  an early morning departure saw us arriving in the anchorage off Gouvia on Corfu by mid afternoon.  With delight, we found that “Moon Rebel” and “Jane G” were also at anchor there and needless to say, found time to share a beer or two with them on board “Rampage.”  Clive from “Jane G” was the centre of attention, as he had managed to chop off the top of his right index finger, not in some horrendous life threatening situation involving rope and sails or anchor chains (the usual way such things happen) but from getting his finger caught in the hinges of the cockpit table……

 

Clive and Jane from “Jane G” with Duncan aboard “Moon Rebel”

 

That evening, we had supper at Zorba’s with Bern and Alan off “Sanuk.”  Bern has had to have a pacemaker fitted and the start to their season has been delayed by this.  She’s now well on the mend and out in Corfu waiting to welcome the first of their visitors.  We had intended to stay only one night in Corfu, but the need to do laundry and catch up with all our Gouvia friends led us to staying a second night.  This turned out to be essential, , as we had forgotten that 1 May is a public holiday in Greece and the place was shut down so we wound up eating in Zorba’s for a second time.

 

On the Wednesday (2 May), we did an enormous shop at AB and then set off for Italy having said goodbye to our friends.  Our intention was to cross to Crotone, which is on the western side of the ‘instep’ on the boot of Italy, about 150 miles from Gouvia, thus reversing the trip we made on our way out to Greece.  We intended to do it in a single overnight hop lasting about 30 hours in total.  In the event, we left Gouvia in a flat calm, picked up a nice northerly round the top of Corfu, along with a fairly steep chop.  When the wind died down as the sun disappeared, the motion from the chop became very uncomfortable, so we looked at the pilot book and chart and decided to head into Plakes on the island of Mathraki.  We got in there as the last of the light faded away and made fast to the quay side, grabbed a hot drink and collapsed into bed.

 

The following morning, we carefully re-examined the grib files and forecasts and decided that we would leave that morning to continue the trip.  The chop was still running outside the little harbour and we were a little apprehensive about what the crossing would be like, but motored away into the sea with no real wind.  Then suddenly, the wind started to build, we made sail and the motion of the boat with the sails working settled down into a comfortable pattern.  As the wind continued to build, we shortened sail until we were making about 6 knots on the second reef to the foresail alone.  This led to another problem, in that we were now going too fast and therefore likely to encounter the Corunna syndrome – arriving in the dark!

 

The winds, having given us a great trip across the north Ionian then did as predicted and started to die down as we came away from the entrance to the Adriatic.  J, on watch at the time, increased sail until we had everything up again but by the time the light was starting to go so had the wind and we dropped all the sails and started to motor.  We couldn’t do our normal speed, as that would have got us to Crotone by about 4am – still dark – coming into a port with a number of gas platforms and installations in the area.  So we motored along at just on 5 knots rather than our more usual 5.7 – 6 knots and arrived off the port just as dawn was breaking.  This made finding our way into the port easier and also eased picking up the slime line.

 

Within minutes of being safely moored up, we had everything shut down and went to bed, rising at midday to sort ourselves out!  And there you have it, our lives for the past couple of weeks!

 

Our plans now take us from here through the Straits of Messina to the Aeolian Islands and then on to southern Sardinia before we make our crossing to Menorca and Mallorca.  We aim to arrive in Mallorcan waters by 1 June, so as to be there when Naomi, Ken and family arrive. 

 

Just a word about communications; we do not have a mobile dongle for Italy, so we have to find internet access via wifi (in bars!) and internet cafes (not many about these days), so our access is going to be limited and intermittent.  We’ll do our best to keep this updated but it may not be up to the usual high standard….

“Rampage” tied up in Crotone harbour, (note Italian courtesy flag.)

 

A quick ps for all our cruising readers.  We’re using the wifi in the Lega Navale in Crotone, where the chef/barman/general factotum (a very nice Englishman), tells us that the Lega Navale has visitors mooring available from now on.  They have 4 or 5 during the winter and an additional 10 or so during the summer when they position an extra pontoon.  Cheaper than the harbour and better facilities…. including a laundry facility and hot showers.