Greece To Italy

In the steps of Odysseus in Sicily and Sardinia

Click here for a map of the journey.

The passage to Sicily was largely uneventful - a bit of dodging fishing nets and large vessels, with no fish caught (but one line bitten through) and mostly motor-sailing. We neared Siracusa in the dark early hours of 18 June, Jim confident of making a safe night entry, Rosie with nerves jangling. All was well, the harbour lights correctly identified, the rocks avoided and the anchor safely dropped near several other anchored yachts - then we engaged reverse to dig the anchor in and there was a tremendous graunching noise and vibration. Oh horrors, has the cutlass bearing gone? Or even worse, the prop shaft? Nothing to be done at 0300 in the morning however, except a text message to Alex to advise him to hold off booking his flight. After a welcome sleep Jim donned swimgear and went into the murky waters to look at the prop shaft, returning with thick nylon fibres that he had pulled off. Looks like we had not missed the fishing nets after all. However this appeared to have resolved the problem. We moved to Marina Yachting where we were able to walk right into Ortigia, the old town area of Siracusa, originally an island but now linked to the mainland by bridges. The city was founded in 734 BC by Corinthian colonists and became the largest fortified city in the Greek world, rivalling Athens in power, controlling Sicily and the Western mediterranean for some 200 years. Now the baroque limestone mansions are being refurbished as apartments, but the facades are redolent of earlier days. We wandered the warren of alleyways, and piazzas, visiting the splendid 7th century Cathedral - built upon the Greek temple of Apollo and incorporating the original columns. Next day we visited the Santuario della Madonna delle Lacrime, an enormous and imposing modern church, noted for the Madonna upon whose sculpted face tears miraculously appeared from 29 August to 1 September 1953. By way of contrast we went on to the Neapolis-Parca Archeologico to look at the 5th century Greek theatre, the 2nd century Roman amphitheatre and a strange artificial ear-shaped grotto, supposedly used by Dionysius to eavesdrop on his prisoners.

Well-stocked with fruit and vegetables from the early-morning market, we departed to Catania, a more workaday city but full of interest. Its baroque buildings were maybe not as golden as those of Siracusa, but were equally imposing, as were the remains of the Roman amphitheatre right in the central shopping area. We had a bit of a shock when we took a shortcut from one fine piazza to the modern busy main street for supermarket shopping. The alleyway had several heavily made up local "ladies" of the night sitting around who greeted us cheerily, one (with a five o'clock shadow and exotic fishnet tights) had a strangely gruff voice too! We scurried past. The city scored high marks with us when we managed to get our large Panamanian gas bottle refilled, and it also provided the jumping off point for a day trip to Mt Etna. After a 2 hour bus-ride to Refugio Sapienza (an impermanent-looking chalet village) we joined a guided tour: by means of cable-car we reached around 2500m, then we ascended another 800m first by Unimog vehicle, then on foot. The latter part was a real slog, over rough lava flows from earlier this year, then up fine ash slopes to gain the crater's rim. Bursts of sulphurous gases caught in the throat as they streamed from vents surrounded by bright yellow deposits. But what a view over the precipice - a deep cavernous inferno of steam and sulphur! Next, the fun bit, leaping and slithering down the fine scree slopes in a sort of ski-ing motion to keep one's balance. At the bottom, a stop was necessary to remove cinders from boots, and to eat to regain some energy! The volcano had been in dormant mood, no fiery lava, yet still a tremendous sight.

Next stop on the coast was at Giardini Naxos, where we were able to relax and admire the scenery, and listen to the tuneful church bells echoing across the water, prior to heading up the Strait of Messina. All started well enough as we passed by the Isole Ciclopi - black basalt pillars rising from the sea and said to be the rocks the blinded Polyphemus hurled towards Odysseus as he fled with his crew. As the Strait narrowed the wind came up against us, so we had to tack whilst avoiding large vessels, as well as reputed whirlpools. We anchored a mile or so north of the marina in Messina, where our friend Henry was berthed, and spent a couple of days lazing, swimming and watching the amazing swordfishing boats while we worked out the best time for good tidal flow at the top end of the Messina Strait: we did not wish to be sucked into the whirlpools of Scilla and Charybdis! All went well and together with Henry we headed for the Aeolian Islands - a group of volcanic islands about 30 miles off the north coast of Sicily. We timed our arrival so that we saw Stromboli during daylight hours, puffing away at about 10-minute intervals, and then drifted off the west coast as darkness fell hoping to see streams of redhot lava. Once again, this was not to be. So we continued through the night to Salina, where we anchored just outside the marina. We spent a couple of days there before going onto the larger island of Lipari (seeing floating pumice in the water en route). Here we paid a dutiful visit to the Cathedral to see the wonderful silver effigy of Saint Bartholomew, patron saint of the Aeolian Islands. After a couple of days rolling in the swell we were ready to move onto Vulcano, where Henry bade us au revoir: he was anxious to use the weather window for the passage to Sardinia where he hoped to achieve some maintenance work on his boat. The anchorage was quite delightful and we swam there, then walked over to the east side where the volcanic activity extended under the sea. We chose not to climb the volcano itself, nor avail ourselves of the supposedly therapeutic mud pools where many others were lounging. Instead we swam in the sea where the gases escaping from the seabed bubbled up around you. With bright green seaweed growing below, and large fish passing by, it was a novel and surreal experience - as if we were in a giant aerated aquarium. Our next stop, at Filicudi, was slightly longer. We climbed up to one end of the island to see the remains of bronze age settlement there; another day we toiled up the steep climb to go over the volcanic ridge and down to the harbour on the west side of the island using the old stone-paved mule tracks. We were rewarded during the walk with sightings of Eleanora's falcons, and a delicious meal at the end: spaghetti with an almond and tomato sauce. It was to be expected that Aeolus would let his winds out of the bag again (we had had our first taste coming up the Messina Strait): on our fourth night the winds gradually increased and it became clear that our anchor was dragging. Thankfully it was daylight before we had to up anchor, and move to a mooring. This was not a pleasant experience, as we were tossed around, hitting the buoy itself intermittently and coming perilously close to a boat on another mooring, and this costing 30 euros for one night. With a more favourable wind forecast we left the next day, bound for Alicudi. In the event there was no safe place to anchor there, the tiny harbour and its environs being full of local boats, so we carried on towards Sardinia, safely passing the isolated island of Ustica, and several small fishing boats in the night.

The welcome sights of a small pod of dolphins and the coastline of Sardinia greeted us on Sunday 8 July. By late afternoon we were anchored in the lovely Baia de Carbonara, with white sand clearly seen through the shallow, pristine waters. Along with a vast population of people onshore, plus those in myriad sailing and motor boats, we enjoyed swimming and relaxing against a backdrop of green-clad mountains and a long sweep of beach. By next morning we were alone in the middle of the bay (the locals having departed back home) so moved to join a small contingent of cruisers anchored just outside the marina at Villasimius. We dinghied ashore and stocked up with fresh bread and produce - fortunate that we did so, as the wind altered during the night and we were suddenly pitching badly in a strong westerly on a lee shore. As soon as it was light we moved to the west side of the bay where we remained at anchor for 3 days to ride out the mistral. Once the wind had abated from the northwest we headed in that direction for Cagliari, where we berthed at the Marina di Sant Elmo, to await the arrival of son Alex. The few days we had in hand soon passed as we cleaned and tidied up the boat, shopped for provisions and reorganised the forepeak to make room for Alex to sleep. Our first excursion was towards the old part of the city, founded in the 6th century BC by the Phoenicians,and later occupied by many invading forces including the Romans. We entered the walls of the Castello district through the impressive Bastion of Saint Remy and gradually ascended the paved, narrow streets to stop and admire the Torre dell Elefante. Passing the Cathedral of Santa Maria, and the Torre di San Pancrazio we went under the archway through the walls of the old Arsenale which now houses the Sardinian National Archaelogical Museum and National Gallery. There we admired many artefacts, in particular the tiny votive figures and larger bronze items from the Nuragic age. Then it was time to relax and admire the panoramic views over the city and surrounding countryside, and to partake of reviving drinks. We descended past the old Roman amphitheatre (now largely built over with modern staging), paused for a moment's reflection in the Chiesa di Cappuccini, and completed our tour with a wander through the Botanic Gardens. Next day we motor-sailed westwards, anchoring near Capo di Pula for a few days, enjoying swimming in the clear water,and even spotting a few fish over the rocks. By luck we arrived to look at the nearby ruins at Nora as a guided tour in English was commencing. Thus we were more able to appreciate the history of the site, the Nuragic remains having been built over by successive invaders, those remaining being Roman - mosaic pavements, baths and temples. Back at the marina we visited the long sweep of Poetto Beach and the nearby salt pans, but failed to get to the salt marshes with its abundance of waterbirds. We had to be content with the nightly spectacle of flamingos flying low overhead in long strings towards sunset - a lovely sight. All too soon it was time to accompany Alex back to the airport. We just had time for one last meal. We had eaten rather well altogether since our arrival in Italy - lots of pizzas, pasta, and fish. However, this was to be the highlight - at Sunday lunchtime a local speciality was on the menu at our favourite restaurant (La Coralla) - roast suckling pig. After starters of spiced baby octopus for Jim, prosciutto for Alex and Rosie, we all tucked into crispy crackling and juicy piglet. Delicious. With our daughter due to arrive soon in Menorca it was time to depart Cagliari, say au revoir to Henry on "Chyka" (whom we hoped to meet up with in Mallorca) and move along the coast. We first returned to Capo di Pula for a night then further west to Malfatano. There, due to strong northwesterlies again, we were to stay for 3 days, swimming and walking up a hill to look at one of the many torres(towers) seen along the coastline. Rising before dawn the next day we were able to move along to Porto di Coqquadus though once the wind rose at about 9am we had a slow and bumpy struggle to get there. It was wonderful to escape the rough conditions and enjoy a calm anchorage off a beautiful sandy beach: the azure waters beckoned us for a last swim in the clear Sardinian waters. Our limited time had meant that we had seen just enough of the island to add it to our "we must go back there again" list! The first day of August dawned, the wind had eased - we departed for Menorca.