Getting in the way.

Anzio is about 28 nautical miles from Fiumicino and after a couple of hours motoring the wind picked up sufficiently to sail the rest of the way. You can anchor close to the beach at Anzio and as a storm was coming in we did just that.

We had a strange experience here having ensured on my electronic chart that we were clear of the channel a Hydrofoil type of ferry decided to drive directly at us to tell / shout at us for being anchored out of the channel but maybe near it! In doing so he very nearly went aground. Still I did get to use my hooter which once you start blowing it, it is difficult to stop. I stayed where I was and watched many boats including the same ferry use the channel well clear of us. I can only assume his rice crispies were a little on the soft side that morning.

We did move later and anchored in two metres of water nearer the beach only to be replaced by an Italian yacht that clearly was in the, somewhat weird, channel. The coast guard approached him and politely asked him to leave. Being Italian he did argue with them but did leave a little later.

We paddled ashore and pulled our dinghy high up on the beach and left it next to a fence out of the way as we didn't want to offend anyone and went ashore.

Anzio despite being completely trashed during the allied landings here in 1944 ish turned out to be quite pleasant and we had a lovely stroll around before returning to the beach and finding that a summer school had set up and had tied a volleyball net to the fence where our tender was which was now inside the pitch. I am beginning to see a pattern emerging. We interrupted the game and retrieved the dinghy and rowed back to Hermy. 

We stayed anchored for two nights here but despite using the stern anchor to point us in to the waves the second night was a bit sleepless. Mrs K emerged from the bedroom and gave me a long hard stare that needed interpretation. Was it  glowing wonderment and admiration for her husband? Or was she trying to say something about how she was feeling about sailing and rocking boats? Nettuno marina was about a mile away so I took her there quickly after feeding her an avocado breakfast.

Nettuno was in fact even nicer than Anzio with its lovely walled village, fort and many nice shops. I could see Mrs K slowly mellowing being ashore, having a beer, a nice sandwich and she bought me two new 'T' shirts on the understanding that I had to throw two away. She even had some chocolate although she saw it as a slippery slope. She did add that that was a slippery slope that I was almost at the end of. Maybe two nights here.

As expected Nettuno has its own Saint in the form of a young, devout girl, Eleven year old Maria Gorretti.  But not as you might expect for being butchered and tortured by Diocletian back in the' let's rid the world of Christians' day. No this poor young girl was attacked by a lad her family were sharing a house with in 1902 and she fought off his attempts to rape her only to be stabbed 14 times. 

She lived for twenty hours in which time she forgave him. He got life but repented and after his release 27 years later became some kind of monk. He sought and received forgiveness from Maria's mum and attended Maria's canonization in Rome in 1950 with mum. Two Peruvian missionaries told us that the towns people collected together WWII munition cases melted them down and built a casket to commemorate her canonization. The church also had the hospital operating table she died on. The patron saint of chastity, rape victims and forgiveness. Quite a remit for an eleven year old!

Strangely though there is a washed up statuey' let's carry it down to the beach each year' story too. And it involves England and Ipswich. Hermy's old town. Our Lady of Graces or the English Lady or our Lady of Ipswich is a wooden statue dating back to about 1280ish. It was kept in a shrine in Lady Lane Ipswich and received many a visitor there. She once worked a miracle on a twelve year old girl curing her from having fits and expressing profanity. Mrs K says I need to visit this statue. Anyway that old King Henry VIII  didn't like shrines and Our Lady of Ipswich was sent to Chelsea for burning along with other statues. The theories are that she wasn't burnt but either sold (most likely) or was rescued by sailors who later sought refuge from a storm at Nettuno and gave the statue to the Italians for their help, or harbour fees. (least likely but most Italian) Anyway each year, in true Italian tradition, she is carted to the sea to carry out her sea calming duties. Well it's a day out. They seem pretty sure it's the same statue. Great stuff!

Because the Americans landed here and had taken many casualties during the Sicily campaign and the following Rome campaign they built a military cemetery here. They made a good job of it and it is kept immaculately. A very good visitors centre and a McDonalds just across the way.

Nearly 8000 souls.

Well its off South now to make for San Felice Circeo avoiding grumpy Hydrofoil drivers and a large and active firing range extending 10 miles out to sea. I hope the Hydrofoil driver doesn't have any military mates!

Roma

Okay like Paris Rome is too big for a few days. We left Civitavechia, Rome's port, for Fiumicino only to find that, that's also Rome's port. Then just up the road at Ostia is Rome's port. You begin to wonder what the hell is going on. Then somewhere amongst the guide books and touristy stuff they explain that the River Tiber kept silting up making shipping dodgy so all these ports are subsequent attempts to get round that. The Fiumicino canal being a cut off the Tiber to the sea forming the Isola Sacre. Almost but not quite as confusing as the bus system.

The trouble with the Fiumicino canal is that it has two bridges that need to open before you can get to the cheap berthing areas. Our info said the guy to see was Max at Albula yard up the canal. The guide book said the bridges don't open on Mondays and Tuesdays. We arrived Monday and went in to the Darsena Traiana for a couple of days parked amongst a lot of debris and dead things with a Gary Glitter type, taking 50 Euros a night from us but unable to give receipts. We then discovered that the guide book was wrong and the bridges did opened on Mondays but not Tuesdays and Wednesdays so we were in Gary's gang for an extra expensive night.

Still Gary gave us some tips and explained that getting to Rome was inexpensive if you liked hard travel.  And we did. The next morning we were at the appointed bus stop ready to do Rome. The bus duly turned up and we got on only to be told that we needed to get a ticket from a tobacconists and that you couldn't buy them on the bus. So amongst some very Latin language we got off and made for the bloody Tobacconists to get a 1.30 Euro ticket and another half hour wait for our trouble.

After a trip to Ostia and jumping on the Metro for 1.50 Euros with one change we hit central Rome Termini. The first thing you see is our old mate Diocletian's bath house just off the termini. Clearly he did take time out from butchering Christians for a short dip from time to time.

We went for a bus trip for orientation purposes and saw many very old things.

Castle Sant Angelo. Emperor Hadrian's mausoleum.  Very, very old.

The next few days saw Mrs K wilting under the sun and the enthusiastic husband rocketing about trying to sound impressive about Roman Emperors. One thing I have really enjoyed are the beggars in Rome. They don't approach me because I have cantankerous old Englishman written all over my face but they do approach Mrs K. Little do they know that I have to beg for money off her and need reasons in triplicate. They have no chance.

The first day was bus tour to try and orientate ourselves but too much info and some deplorable music, then we did the great big museum next to the Termini railway station. Its claim to fame being the bronze life size boxer.

Or guy taking a dump.

When the bridges opened we moved up to Max's yard which was great, reasonably priced and max restored our faith in Italians.

The Pantheon is pretty impressive. Basically built by Hadrian in its current form in AD 118 it was the largest dome in the world for nearly 1400 years. Still standing today.

This is supposed to be the spot where Caesar discovered that Brutus wasn't the mate he thought he was.

This is the Romulus Temple built in 307 AD with its original bronze doors and a lock mechanism that still works. My Raymarine wind thingy at the top of the mast is not yet ten years old and that does not work any more.

A stroll around the Palatine hill is a 'must do' as you get a feel of the Empire a couple of thousand years ago, it all went on here.

The Colloseum has to be the most impressive building completed by Titus in AD 80 ish much of it is still there and you only really see that when you get inside if you can tolerate the 'I can get you in quickly touts.' 

I don't need touts as I have Mrs K who knows all the deals. And luckily she spotted that the Vatican Museum and the Sistine Chapel were free on the last Sunday of each month. So off we marched with wrong bus tickets in hand to make our way in. (The bus tickets had been my job!)Despite some confusion over the tickets no one on the buses gave a damn and we got a free ride in. The Sistine experience is a bit of a build up as you are lead through corridors with ornately painted ceilings with everyone, particularly Americans, asking in each room Is this the Sistine Chapel? Towards the end I did too.

All I know is that this isn't it as you aren't allowed to take pictures in the chapel as there are guards in there yelling at you not to, between yelling at you to be silent. It's very noisy.

Now I have been worrying about Mrs K going in to a bit of a spiral with the heat and all the exhausting travel.

But I think I have brought her round with homemade packed lunches and a couple of visits to McDonalds.

The Spanish steps. We were too knackered to go up them.

The Trevi Fountain. We can relate to this as it depicts two horses, one is mild and settled and the other is wild and angry. This represents the sea in its changing moods but what most people don't see is it represents our weather Apps with mine being meek and mild about everything and Mrs K's tempestuous 'we are all going to die' App.

I think I may need to get down to some chart corrections. Got these cheap in the market.

Rome has to be the world's greatest 'selfie' spot. They are all at it.

Well that's Rome done. Or it is if you only have a few days.

Next stop Anzio as long as I can miss the sunken boat just across the river.

Going from Two to Six

As you all know to us Hermy was a mansion when we bought her but as time goes on you start to fill all the spaces with all sorts of things. Sun umbrellas cushions and more recently half baked baguettes to feed the six that were about to arrive. I had to stop Mrs K from buying a further two which would have made twelve. Now with number one daughter and number one son about to arrive with partners space was becoming an issue. This is when the fore deck becomes a sort of loft to store stuff out of the way. Dinghies have to fend for themselves under tow, bikes are relegated from the fore peak to the deck as are spare sails. We were relegated to the main cabin so that Daughter and her farmer could take up residence in the stern cabin. Son and linguist took up the fore peak.

We moved on from Castiglione to Talamone, named after some Greek hero who accompanied Jason on the Argo and became involved in Pillars. Nelson stopped here before heading for the Nile seeking out Boney's team and our old mate Garibaldi stopped here to re-provision. The small supermarket was clearly better stocked then.

All in all a lovely place and worth the 50 Euros this time. Impressive fort and a very well used kite surfing beach. Talamone has a railway station and it was here that the offspring were converging. The station was 2 KM away so a taxi shouldn't be a problem. Well it bloody was. We approached Gregory the chief boat parker and asked about a taxi and he immediately made a phone call and came back to us saying 15 Euros is that okay? A bit steep but we could run to that. No he said 50 Euros! What? It's only 2 KM. Apparently he had to come from Orbitello. I was perturbed by this and said no we will walk. 

Well just as you are about to embark on a rage against Italians ripping you off, poor old Gregory said its okay I will take you if I am not too busy. Just when you want to have a go at a whole nation someone like Gregory steps in, it's very frustrating.

He did. He was as good as his word and wouldn't take any money. And his Mrs rang him as we traveled back with the "where the hell are you?" Conversation. I bought him a reasonably expensive Rosso to compensate.

Very arty I thought. So did Mrs K that's why I had to take the picture!

Between them they have some remarkable academic qualifications with 'Firsts,' 'Masters' and 'Degrees' all over the place. The photographer however struggles in this area. His academic prowess was tested to the full when Mrs K tasked him with returning the washed inside out marigolds to their usual readiness. Took ages.

Right what to do with these youngsters? Well there are two nice looking Islands near Talamone, Giglio and Gianutri both look great one has a harbour and the other a pretty secure anchorage. What do the weather App gods say? Well as usual mine is saying not too bad but Mrs K's is showing some red so we decide to make for San Stefano 10 nautical miles from Talamone.

The Farmer took to driving, it's a big vehicle thing!

Lunch stop lead to leaping off the side. Most people feel compelled to lead with their arms but not the farmer!

After an attempt at anchoring for the night outside Santo Stefano we decided to go in as it was too roly.

Santo Stefano or Saint Stephen as we know him is a prime example of not having a pop at the Judge or Judges trying you. He was stoned to death for his insubordination. He is however, I am sure, the patron saint of overcharging. 62 Euros and they wanted 4 Euros per shower. Despite the classical regatta and the 15 minutes we were allowed to look around the castle after we had paid it wasn't worth it. Harbour was a bit smelly and services looked dodgy.

After an early morning, weird shell fish research party and a bit of shopping we left just as the regatta was starting and got out of the way quickly. It was a bit choppy but as we rounded  'Cap Argentaro' all settled down and we had a lovely lunch stop in the bay next to the island of L'Isolotto.

If people are on a beach then they want to swim out to the boat. If they are on the boat they want to swim to the beach. Crazy!

Port Ercole didn't want us or the nice Slovenian couple who had tried to berth so we went to Porto Cala Galera. Lovely clean port with very helpful staff and lots of services. 42 Euros. Much better than Stefano.

The Islands didn't look feasible as we didn't want to get stuck on them if flights needed to be caught so we opted for the jaunty sail to Civitavechia Rome's Port. We sailed over half way before the wind slowed down then motor sailed. Despite some serious fishing, pizza was back on the menu.

We had to dodge this guy at the entrance. Giving way is much easier when they are armed!

we entered the large port and made for Porto Romana and berthed successfully after being chased in by a large trawler.

Civitavechia is where ancient Rome meets social housing kind of a place. A bit grubby, no semblance of pedestrian organisation but quite a few nice medieval or Roman bits. The ice cream was good and we were able to set down our passengers for their return journeys to Blighty.

The free archaeological museum was well worth a visit. It displayed this Roman loo seat with writing on it. A sort of read while you go set up. It would also be printed on your bum to read later if you were in a hurry and if you were flexible enough! I did struggle with this and thought it far more likely that the scribe submitted this to the approver but it was rejected and they didn't have shredders so it was relegated to loo seat production. This happened to a lot of my work.

So from six now back to two, Hermy coped with six well. It's very quiet now!

 

Back to the mainland

Sardinia done, off back to the mainland via the East coast of Corsica. Leaving Santa Teresa with a nice North Westerlie we sailed to Sant Amanza bay on the South East coast of Corsica to meet up with Beligou our German friends from the canals and Cecina. En route we were approached from behind by a grey figure and we began to prepare for an official netting as we had experienced off Cagliairi.

But no. After a rear approach this guy overtook us. Some kind of military marine tow truck I think.

A quiet anchor and a lovely barbeque on board Beligou.  That's the good think about steel boats you don't have to worry about them melting. Sad farewells the next morning then off up the East coast to Solenzara. Passing inside the Cerbicles and past Porto Vechio heading North. Just like the East coast of Sardinia Corsica is sparse in population due to malaria and pirates over the centuries. Lakes or 'Etangs' not helping with the Malaria issues.  

With just the odd effort to protect.

Solenzara was built to assist tourism in the area and I think they made a pretty good job of it.

They even had a procession although not quite on the scale of Cagliairi.

Each 2nd of June they cart this statue of St Erasmus down to the marina and bless the boats. Erasmus is the patron saint of sailors and, rather interestingly, the patron saint of abdominal pain. Unlike the usual saints of his era he did not turn up dead to become a saint but suffered quite a bit under our old friend the Emperor Diocletian. He was beaten, starved, set alight, placed in a barrel full of spikes and rolled around for a bit but somehow he survived for quite a while. He once carried on preaching when a lightning strike landed beside him impressing the sailors who prayed to him during storms. He eventually met his end by having his stomach slit open and having his intestines wound around a windlass. That would I suppose upset the tummy a little. Strangely the windlass probably belonged to a sailor but hay ho.

Any way Erasmus didn't seem to help us berthing as the entry was with a strong crosswind and we ended up side on to the dock sustaining a couple of scratches to the gelcoat. Our second attempt was more successful as I used the boat hook to grab the boat upwind and held us while we tied up.

I carried out an oil change on Hermy to keep her sweet and all was well until we came to start her up and all she did was go click. Damn! Mrs K knew something would go wrong before we got back to the mainland to meet the children. A frantic search around found a rather crusty electric connection which after a bit of cleaning resulted in a lively start up and no further issues. Hermy likes good clean connections.

After Solenzara it was a hike up to Campoloro a small shallow port with not too much going on. Some camp sites and apparently quite a few chestnut trees. Pasqualle Paoli, the Corsican rebel,was born somewhere nearby and after he died in London, many years later his remains were returned here. 

On arrival I did a quick oil check as I had changed the oil and to my horror the dip stick was dry. Another go did nothing to alleviate this horror. But where had it all gone? The bilges were reasonably clear, there had been no smoke from the engine. It must be hiding. Mrs K said the engine is hot you never check the oil when we arrive only when we leave try it later. I did and the oil came back. How did she know that? My wife knows too much.

It was from Campoloro that we left Corsica and made for Elba 50 nautical miles Eastish and in doing so crossed our outgoing line completing our circumnavigation of Corsica. In fact we did a figure of eight around both Corsica and Sardinia.

Motor sailing is hard on the crew!

We anchored for the night in Port Azzurro on Corsica. It was a bit blowy and we needed fuel so we popped in to the fuel berth and filled up and then decided to make for Castiglione Della Pescaia across the water on the mainland.

Mr Heikell said Castiglione was a cheap spot but it was dangerous to get in to if the wind was blowing from the West or South West. The wind was South East so might be an issue. Anyway a lumpy crossing but a straight forward entrance. Cheap turned out to be 50 Euros a night.

One guidebook described Castiglione as undiscovered by the British but we discovered that it was more expensive than it should have been. 

Next stop was Talamone a slightly more upmarket harbour with a good anchorage which we took advantage of for the first night. Our competing wind apps gave mixed messages about the weather with mine saying it will be fine and Mrs K's predicting a tempest so we slid in to the harbour for a few days  to explore and await the arrival of Son and Daughter with respective partners for a week together exploring this coast. And because Mrs K has gone in to boat preparation mode.

Sardinia is an Island!

Alghero is an important port to us yachties as it is the landfall from the Balearics and is a great place to rest a few days if hiking up the West coast.

Hermy appreciates a rest.

As does the Galley boy!

The Aroganese took possession of Alghero in 1350 something and the Spanish tinge is still present with Spanish words popping up all over the place. I like this idea as my Italian includes a lot of French and quite a bit of English. The other great thing about this place is that it has quite a few nice shops for Mrs K to wander around picking things up and putting them down again as well as feeling the material of all items of clothing on display. I love watching the urge to buy competing with the urge to save, the latter almost always wins.

Apparently The holy Roman Emperor Charles V of Spain stayed in this building around 1540 ish before heading off to bash up pirates in Algeria. He addressed the Sardinian people who were decidedly friendly with Charles just having parked his fleet in the harbour . His address went something like this.

'The Sardinian people are lovely and you have a strong and lovely town now bring me all your cattle as I have thousands of soldiers to feed but it's okay we'll have a bull fight or two before we slaughter them all.'

Giuseppe Garibaldi turned up here too in 1855 on his way to try and unite the Italies.

I don't know what it is but people always insist on scribbling on everything. Luckily offset by a sexy girl sight seer.

One of the great things about Mrs K is that she will always try whatever is unusual on a menu. Myself always driven by hunger always has to be sure that I will like what I eat.

Mrs K goes for the strange Chickpea omelette while I plumb for the Pepperoni Pizza. Of course should it turn out to be a little dodgy then sharing is always an option.

The cost for staying a night at Alghero was 28 Euros and with the Cruising Association discount it remained at 28 Euros.

Next port was Stintino 35 miles up the coast and through a shallow patch between the mainland and the Island of Asinara. So to get a head start we decided to do the first 5 miles and anchor in Porto Conte beneath the spectacular cliffs. And of course the statutory Spanish tower.

The route around Capo Caccia was the spectacular bit.

Who put that hole through there?

Stintino on the Assinara peninsular was famous for being a Tuna fishing village and for having a rare breed of  white donkey. So rare infact we didn't see any. Somebody obviously shouted ' Get your scrawny white ass out of here' and they did!

Having negotiated the leading lines through the shallow Fornelli Channel where we slid in to the harbour and up to the preferred sailing club only to be told to sod off as they were full up so we went in to the marina and tied up next to  'Reverie' a couple from Blighty doing the same thing but in a posher boat.

Still a lovely place and a short scramble along the coast showed a huge variety of plant life.

Next stop across the bay was Isola Rossa aptly named after the red island just outside.  A pleasant little harbour with nice staff but as has become usual when it comes to taking your papers to the office and paying it always seems to come as a complete surprise to the staff that you have parked a boat in their harbour and wish to pay them some money for the privilege. Forms have to be found and filled in, entry cards for the showers need to be distributed, and payment card machines completely baffle them. You get the impression that each harbour employs new office staff daily to maintain this element of surprise.

Our stop here gave us the chance to inflate the dinghy, try out the outboard and give Hermy's hull a long needed clean. The next day was our final leg in the circumnavigation of Sardinia. after a short lunch stop at Capo Testa and a clean of the propeller we entered Santa Teresa in a hail of glory. Well okay no one noticed but we did and celebrated with a Pizza with the crew of 'Reverie'

Rounding Capo Testa marking our circumnavigation of Sardinia 455 Nautical Miles. We can confirm Sardinia is an island.