Sunday 28 October 2018

Time for winter closure.



Sitting out the weather in Riposto gave us the opportunity to try their lemon cake and make use of their fish market but time was clanging away. We had 140 Miles to go and Mrs K, being organised, had booked our flights for 31st March. Ten days and Sicilies winter seems to produce bad weather in three day batches so we could have a problem. Also Hermy was well overdue for something to go wrong. I could see the tension in Mrs K's brow.





The best weather predictor is looking at the fishing fleet. If they are all in then no one should move.




The weather cleared, the fishing boats moved and it looked like we would get two clearish days. It seemed we were going to have to do some long hops in order to unfurl Mrs K's brow.
So Saturday looked better and we left Riposto having managed to get a bit of a discount on our nine day stay and we waved goodbye to Mount Etna.




And set off for a 45 mile romp through much higher than predicted swell. Using Hermy's mainsail we managed to counter the effect of some of the rolling but as usual as soon as the sea sees you coping it messages the wind to change direction so that it's coming from exactly where you are going to. In this case Syracuse.




After much calling on Channel 11 we entered the Grand Harbour with permission and were given our allotted 'stern to' berth on the town Quay. Thanks to a quick chat with some Aussies when we visited with the Smiths we knew the score. But we hadn't stern to-ed using the anchor for a while and there was a cross wind. A potential marital conflict in the making. So not having a remote anchor windlass control Mrs K would have to drop the anchor from the bow at the given moment as we reversed Hermy towards the concrete dock at speed to counter the wind. Then she would have to leg it the length of the boat across a deck strewn with obstacles, grab a stern rope and leap off the cluttered back at the precise moment before full astern, or forward because we were going backwards, came in to play to prevent pulverising the back of the boat. Oh and of course the quay is lined with tourists watching, hoping to witness that inappropriate yell, that crashing ,splintering sound of fibreglass meeting concrete and the commencement of divorce proceedings. Probably all on video ready to go viral across the world. 

Well it was like a master class in 'stern to-ing' it all went swimmingly. Mrs K, gazelle like, dumped the anchor and hurdled her way to the stern like Jesse Owen, picked up a stern rope and leapt off the back like Paul Hogan in Croc Dundee II. I contributed by not getting my astern mixed up with my forward which is no mean feat while watching your wife being Tarzan.




All safe and sound and the sighing, disappointed  crowds deleted their videos and returned to their beers and Cappuccinos.

The great thing about Syracuse is that it is free for five days. You don't get water or electrics but Hermy can cope without for a few days if it's just us two. We weren't quite prepared for the surge during the night accompanied by the sequential slurping and hissing as the waves ran along the underneath ledge of the quay.

Adding to this was the rare agreement of the weather apps that seemed to be saying if you are going anywhere in the next few days it had better be tomorrow. So we plotted for our longest run yet of 60 nautical miles round to Ragusa. A ten hour trip. If we go by eight we will be there for six while it's still light. Great. But I hadn't planned for the fuel man being forty minutes late so it was a half nine get away. Damn! Should have fueled up yesterday. Mrs K gave that look a husband gets when he has failed to plan adequately.




We left Syracuse in a bit of a hurry and we were nicely waved off by a fisherman who was probably telling us the fuel man won't be there for forty minutes and made our way out in to the Ionian sea.
As we approached Cape Passero we looked back and saw the unmistakable view of the 'V' of an approaching official vessel intent on speaking to us.


As usual they were very polite and spoke good English. A few questions were asked as he matched our speed. " Where are you going?"  "Where have you come from?"  "How many people on board?"

And what sounded like a bit of a non nautical, moral question "Is that your wife?"  I toyed with the answer of "no just a bit of yacht totty on the side." but felt that it may not translate well and I didn't want to be towed back to a Syracuse church to confess. They left us satisfied and shot off in search of more interesting prey.
Soon afterwards we and a lovely display from a group of dolphins around the bows which Mrs K managed to film while clinging to the bows.



After a nice shot of my foot and another of the hood I managed to get this one.
Feeling content Mrs K returned to the cockpit to continue listening to 'Love songs' when a nice lady wrote in about how her husband was the nicest person alive and called him her sweet lamb. I asked Mrs K if she ever saw me in terms of a sweet animal. She thought about this and just said " Sweet toad." And then laughed uncontrollably.

As we began to round Cape Passero marking about half way we were about a mile out heading to a waypoint when Mrs K spotted something in the water.


I was heading directly for it a crab pot? A bit of debris? No a few divers towing buoys, some not near the buoys. No boat cover. Very dangerous. Probably plundering.



We ploughed on after I was sure Hermy wouldn't liquidize any divers, Those air tanks could really damage a prop.

The Malta strait seems to be where all Jelly fish go for the winter.

Ragusa marina loomed up in the dark and we picked out the entrance lights and were met by a marinaro who led us to a berth. He insisted on doing all the paperwork despite me telling him I had to put the Spaghetti Bolognese on.

Anyway Ragusa was a lovely place a nice small marina town with a lovely live aboard group and more importantly it was very near to where Inspector Montalbano was filmed. We cycled to Punta Secca and visited his pretend home.


Well we have watched nearly all the episodes now and I think Mrs K's inbuilt attraction to short bald policemen is coming out.

Of course Ragusa isn't in Ragusa it's twenty odd kilometres up the road on top of a mountain.


In fact there are two, Ragusa Ibla and Ragusa Superior. After it was destroyed in the 1690 something earthquake, apparently half of the survivors liked the slightly higher hill next door so rebuilt there creating Superior. They now look down on Ibla.

Despite Mrs K having suffered an hoovering injury to her back and hip we walked up to Superior but then fearing bus stop errors we walked back down again to the stop we knew.

The electronic  weather looked fine for the final 36 miles but once outside the marina the real weather saw short choppy seas with head on wind reducing us to five knots so seven hours later we arrived at Licata.



Lead in by a conveniently returning fishing boat we made for Marina Di Cala Del Sole where they were expecting us and berthed us near to the showers and bins, supermarket nearby. Great. Marina staff lovely and very helpful. And a nice live aboard community too.


Licata is a truely Sicilian town. There really doesn't seem to be anything touristy although there is quite a bit for the tourist to see. Mount St Angelo shows off its 16th century castle but with a little exploration there is evidence of habitation going back thousands of years. The archaeological museum which can take a bit of finding is superbly set out with some fantastic finds. It also has clear English explanations for the dumb Englishman which is much appreciated.

It is not entirely unheard of that a boat arrives and then immediately runs back to Ragusa. I think this is a mistake although initially ramshackle, Licata grows on me by the day. I have even started to like the dog strewn streets. Not strays but just lying around barely raising an eye lid as you pass. 
Mrs K has been engaging in Yoga to heal her hoovering injuries and the liveaboards here are great with happy hours and barbecues, lovely.






































Well that's it for 2018 Hermy is ready to sit the winter out here while we head back to Blighty to get our fix of being home. 1,638 nautical miles covered this year. 3,897 since we set off from Gillingham in 2016.


See you next year.

Friday 19 October 2018

The Sicilian way!



After leaving Reggio and a quick stop at Riposto we made our way to Catania. Massimo spoke some English but not enough to give us any indication of where to go so we poked our nose in to a space and was helped by a young Englishman to berth against a walkway with little to tie to. Massimo turned out to be a nice guy who agreed a good price. I asked if we got a discount for staying three days and he said with a broad grin 'yes the fourth day is free.' I am finding that Sicilians are Italians with a sense of humour.




Catania is a bit of a mess but very busy. I slowly realised that I had been here before when I was about five or six some 35 ish years earlier when my family fled Libya after the Arab Israeli war in 1967. We had caught a ferry from Tripoli to Catania then another over to the mainland before we drove home to Blighty. I immediately felt a connection.

After some serious laundry-ing having walked through the Bronx of Catania (for those that have not been to the Bronx, a bit like Tovil in Maidstone.)


We were at Catania to collect our visitors Mr and Mrs Smith who were braving a week on Hermy.

 Mr and Mrs S duly arrived.


We had managed to find some good parts of Catania namely the meat and fish market together with the Cathedral of St Agatha and of course the smiling elephant in the Duomo Square.


We even found some Roman rubble which was actually spotted by Mrs K who didn't keep it to herself but pointed it out to me. Is she warming to history? No just a good wife.



The view from the roof of the Cathedral seems to hide any grottyness Especially with Mount Etna in the background.




Mr and Mrs S quickly settled in to boat life and because the weather was looking like it was going to change we decided to make a run for Riposto as the showers at Catania were frequented by trawlermen who, although very nice, were not your first choice for shower buddies.

Mr S is the current holder of the largest fish to be brought aboard Hermy and was intent on furthering his lead using his trusted big fish lure. We left Catania and made our way out of the no fishing zone carefully avoiding all the Sicilians fishing in it. Mr S launched his trusted lure and sat there expectantly as Joey and I have done for many an hour. Within ten minutes he has hooked a sword fish and begins hauling it in. Well it was a whopper by our standards so much so we couldn't get it in to our piddley little net. Unfortunately it fell off the hook after the sixth attempt to land it so Mr S was unable to declare a furtherance of his record. Very sad.




Following the loss of Zorro the fish we had to hunker down as it started to rain hard and Mrs K and Mrs S sought drier parts of the boat. We arrived at Riposto and were told to park up at the fuel berth as it was raining. After an hour we berthed up. We knew it was going to be rainy so we had planned a train ride to Syracuse and had hired a car from some online rental based in Manchester.

The trip to Syracuse worked well with little rain on arrival. We met Mr Archimedes on our way in.



At last a Greek wearing some clothes!


Now Syracuse is very old, these pillars in the church being some 2500 years old and still holding things up,




And its castle had seen quite a bit of action over the years.




A nice lunch and an easy train journey back all went according to plan despite the usual strange person on board.




The rain came as we arrived back at the Marina D'Etna but that was okay as we had hired a car for the next day and after some serious googling we had located the pickup point in readiness.

The next morning having been told that punctuality was important by the hire company we arrived at the nominated hotel. Of course I had forgotten my passport so had to hoof it back to the boat while Mrs K took a phone call from the company who despite knowing that Mrs K was wife of Mr K refused to speak to her as the booking was in my name. I duly arrive at the pickup point now knackered and a bit annoyed that no one had turned up with a car. After half an hour of waiting for their 10 minute call back I rang this company in Manchester who put me through to the idiot that had rung Mrs K. He explained that there was no car as they had rung up the local company this morning and one wasn't available but we could travel ten miles and collect another one and we could claim back the taxi fare. No apology. Well I was my usual calm and collected self and I explained how incomprehensible it was to me that a company having had a request for a car three days earlier had decided not to ring and check availability until the morning of the pickup and had allowed us to walk to the pickup point before ringing us with the news. Twice for me! I ensured that they had taken no money and stated I was pleased that the call was recorded for training purposes so that they could play it to their directors to bring home the learning point that they were complete morons.

We hired a car from the Marina office from Sicilians in ten minutes slightly more expensive but idiot free.


Taormina has to be on everyone's list to visit in this area. A virtually complete medieval town converted in to a shopping centre. It does have a Greek amphitheatre but it cost 10 Euros to see so we didn't.


Up until now we had only encountered the Sicilian driver from the point of view of the pedestrian. We had discovered that the only way of getting them to stop for you at a zebra crossing was to threaten to spill your blood all over their bonnet. Driving among them was something else.

We learned that the use of indicators was prohibited, as was slowing down or using mirrors. If, having inadvertently turned an indicator on, it was forbidden to then turn it off. Driving on the pavement was acceptable but only in built up areas, parking was only allowed at junctions if you needed to talk to someone otherwise you can park anywhere. Overtaking should not be carried out on straight roads but only on bends. Giving way was not permitted and no one should be driving unless engaged in a phone call and smoking. All driving situations could be resolved with the constant application of the horn.

We encountered these rules of the road on our windy drive up to Etna to take a look at yet another Italian bubbling crater.


The Etna girls!

Well the week had gone quickly and it was the last night so we went to Georgio's for our final meal and actually had rather a good one. A pasta dish that was really nice. Although the eagerly awaited chocolate fondue didn't quite make the grade. A cup of hot chocolate with two small cakes!



With Mr and Mrs S safely deposited back at Catania airport and the car returned unscathed despite the Sicilian driving experience we were back at the boat sitting out the weather before our final jaunt to Hermy's winter resting place. Licata.

Saturday 6 October 2018

Straight into the Strait.



We had spent our week at Cap D'Orlando marina and they helpfully gave us a questionnaire to fill out about our stay. Well Mrs K liked this and pointed out to them that their lovely marina was empty because staying in a five star hotel was cheaper. That it would be easier to dig your own landfill site then walk the miles to the bins and that the clever lighting system in the showers switched themselves off just as you got all lathered up. The lady in the office was very grateful for our comments.


Having vented our views on Marina prices we decided to anchor for the night East of the Milazzo peninsular to hide from a North West swell. This worked well and we had a reasonable night ready to make for the Straits of Messina. Not quite the sailors trial it  used to be in Kirk Douglas's time. No whirlpools or multi headed monsters. Apparently the earthquake activity has changed the underwater terrain making it a much easier passage these days. And I'm probably not going to talk about multi headed monsters!


This huge pylon type structure marks the entrance to the Messina Strait from the North and as we entered the clouds began to build and we were hit by a famous Messina Squall and got soaked. Messina harbour seemed like it should be safe but turned out to be pretty uncomfortable with large boats causing a surge through the floating docks testing Hermy's ropes to some tune. Messina itself was a bit scruffy as if no one had cleared up after WWII.


So after overpaying the marina who wanted 10 Euros for the pleasure of water and Electricity on top of 66 Euros for the night we left. The only positive part of the stay was meeting a mad Australian and his son taking his yacht 'Love Child' from Greece back to Oz.


We slipped across to Reggio Di Calabria on the mainland which had received a similar write up as Messina but very unfairly.  The guide book says you have to call up the port authority to request permission to enter which we hadn't had to do since Dover so using my best English I made the request and received a very professional response. Strangely he made me call up the empty Marina to see if they had a space which they did and we entered. There was some confusion as there was a man at the entrance waving to us to enter his little harbour but after a further call we realised he was just touting for business and we went to the inner south harbour which to our amazement was  only 35 Euros a night. We'll have two please! That was the first thing we liked about Reggio.


The second thing we liked was that it was clean and tidy and had proper shops and quite spectacular trees. It even had pavements too although you couldn't walk on them because there were cars parked all over them.


Prices all round seemed cheaper and Mrs K swooped on a pair of socks and a new jumper.
Of course the real highlight was the Archaeological museum and using my, now highly tuned, navigational skills we entered,  paid our money and started at the end and worked our way to the beginning.

This chap was described as a statue of a 'seated male with right arm raised!'



Makes you wonder what the question was!

The real highlight were the two bronze statues found in the sea at Riace on the instep of Italy in 1972 by a snorkeler . In order to see them you have to enter a chamber to remove any pollutants that may enter with you. Mrs K suggested that she was expecting me to be sucked out at any moment.


Both naked as we have come to expect from the Greeks.


The visit was only slightly marred by Mrs K asking me if that was what my body was meant to look like?


All in all a good museum with tons of stuff and  Mrs K showed no resistance until we were at least halfway through.

Well the weather wasn't improving at all so we decided to stay another couple of nights at Reggio. As luck would have it Reggio has an old Aragonese castle to go and look at so off we went.


You can see the excitement on Mrs K's face.

All in all if you are going to get stuck somewhere then Reggio is not a bad choice. We met a number of lovely people, English Dentists holidaying from somewhere up North. A Polish couple on the yacht Mia who liked Hermy. A Swedish couple on their yacht Sally with whom we sat out a ferocious squall drinking wine. and an Irish Italian family on Sea Too who were passaging from Greece with two very young but boat savvy and bilingual children. All very sociable and a pleasure to meet.

Mrs K likes to talk to normal people!

Monday 1 October 2018

Exploring the North coast of Sicily.



We hid from the weather at Capo D'Orlando little did we know that it would become a 'Medicane' whatever the hell that means. Anyway luckily, although things livened up meteorologically speaking, the worst of it headed off to Greece so it wasn't too bad. Nevertheless we had booked a week here so we decided to explore using that far more adventurous method of getting about, the Italian public transport system.

So with Hermy tied up well we booked an apartment in Palermo for two nights which was cheaper than the cost of berthing Hermy in this, very new but half empty, marina.


Palermo is the capital of Sicily this most fought over island. Little did Mrs K know that she was going to see far more rubble than she anticipated.


Indeed most of Palermo is reused rubble from the last three thousand years. We went to see the Norman Palace which was half closed so we didn't end up doing it. We did wander around the Balero market and tried their street food which wasn't too bad but we got charged tourist prices so we didn't eat too much of that. The highlights of the stay were the tour of Conte Federico's Palace having a guided tour by his eldest son who was great.


Of course Mrs K wants an inner courtyard in our next house!


The Cathedral was a must, too, as it was the burial place of Roger II who was a Norman just like William the Conqueror and at roughly the same period they were taking over large parts of Southern Italy. 



As has happened a couple of times now Mrs K has been deemed a tad indecent by the Catholic church who have insisted that we cover her with some kind of tarpaulin so that she doesn't alarm the good Catholics of the parish.

Strangely enough, next on our list was a guided tour of the medieval prison where the university had uncovered extensive graffiti left by the heretics, contained there during the Spanish inquisition. This was where the good Catholics tortured those that didn't quite tow the line. Mrs K would have been a candidate.

Next on the list, for me anyway, was the Archaeological museum . Mrs K went shopping and left me to it. It was good because it explained what you were looking at, when and where it was found and how old it was. We imagine everything we see today is modern yet these 2400 year old fishing hooks look very much as good as todays.


Best of all were the moulded lead sling shots from about the same time that had been moulded with writing on, some saying which king they served, some saying whose army they were in but most interestingly many had insults on.


So you were charging some fortification when you were hit in the head with one of these. You came too and picked up the offending lump of lead and it said 'gotcha you turd'. To add to the insult when it came to your turn to examine your injury with the regimental mirror you saw that the same friendly words were imprinted on your forehead. Fantastic!


All in all Palermo was a good place to visit and we couldn't do it justice in the three days we had. We were quite pleased with ourselves that we had negotiated the train system and their ticket machines and had survived the mad, tiny streets inhabited by pedestrians, cars, scooters and animals without coming to an untimely end.


The other place on the North coast worth a visit is the town of Cefalu. Again inhabited since humans started inhabiting places it was our old mate Roger II who really put it on the map having allegedly sought refuge there during a stormy voyage from Salerno in 11 something. He was so grateful he built a cathedral, as you might expect and a castle right on top of a steep hill overlooking the port.
Now the Cathedral is famous for its mosaic of Christ in the ceiling which is apparently the oldest of its type.



And the views from the 'Rock' where he built the castle were stunning.



Looking East.



And West.


Now Mrs K declared herself a steady and calm completer - finisher whilst eluding to the idea that I was a chaotic starter - stop for a beerer but we completed the whole walk around the Rock of Cefalu and it was very much worth it even taking in the almost 3000 year old temple of Diana.




If you carry rocks this big up a huge hill and build a temple then few are likely to want to nick them and carry them back down.

Anyway after quite a hectic week Mrs K was looking forward to a quiet Sunday relaxing before we set off again when I suggested we went for a short walk and took her to see the Roman thermal baths at Capo D'Orlando. Now I don't think there was any excuse for describing this historic spot as just a pile of more rubble.


Well the breaks over! Back to sailing around.