A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To Siracusa...

Six days ago, Maggie and I caught the bus to Ragusa Ibla. I brought my favourite Panama Jack hat that has a wide brim and mesh crown. Hats are very important on a boat because it is difficult to hide from the sun otherwise. I put my hat up on the rack for the short trip. We weren't sure exactly where we should get off once we reached town, but the bus driver gave us a sign and we hopped off – without my hat. I mourned my hat all that day because I bought it in the Bahamas, inexpensively, two winters ago.

Maggie suggested checking with the lost and found but I rejected all such futile efforts to recover it; surely a hat like that would not last long on a rack in the bus. I gave it up as lost, moved on and bought a cheap straw hat from a kid selling stuff on the beach.

Yesterday, we caught the bus back to Ragusa because we had to transfer there to catch the bus to Siracusa. I checked the rack where I left my hat (as though this was the only bus that runs that route) and faintly hoped to see it there, but it wasn't. After all, it was five days later. Maggie chuckled at my foolishness and jokingly suggested that I check the hat that was on the rack up front. I jumped up and had a closer look. And there was my hat! It had been riding the bus for five days and just happened to be on the same bus that we caught the one and only time that we would take it again. It was a good start to the day, and it just got better because Siracusa is a beautiful, ancient city on the Sicilian coast. Once our transmission is fixed we hope to come and anchor in the harbour and spend a few more days exploring.

I suppose because we are sitting here paying money in a marina and about to incur a significant repair expense, the hat incident has taken on more importance than it might otherwise. I have absolutely no complaints about the life we are living, but it sure felt good catching a break on my $30 hat.

Branko

Ragusa

We are currently in Marina di Ragusa because we are experiencing some trouble with our transmission and getting it fixed.  Most likely it was the rope that we picked up in Sardinia that led to the trouble.

Anyway, the town we are in is a beautiful  resort town with fabulous beaches, so we have been taking advantage of them.  The marina that we are in is one where many cruisers spend the winter and the rates are excellent.  We might end up here this winter.

Twenty kilometers away is the historic town of Ragusa Ibla.  It is a little confusing because there are actually three towns with the word Ragusa in them.  But Ibla is a UNESCO world heritage site because of the stunningly beautiful medieval and baroque architecture evident in the town.  One approaches the town from the "new" Ragusa, which was built after an earthquake severely damaged the area. in the 1700's.  If you are on foot, you climb down a fantastic series of stepped sidewalks leading down to a town built on a hill that rises out of valley.  Although we took dozens of photos, we lack a decent internet connection to upload them, so if you want to see some photos check out this link.  The overall impression is one of a sun-drenched, ancient, hilltop town. Winding streets lead to dead ends, fantastic pallazos or a magnificent church.    Or you come across a dwelling so charming that you actually envy the people that are fortunate enough to live there.  Tourism is important, but people still live and work here and migh tnot  fully realize how achingly beautiful is their town.

Even though it is only June, the sun is scorching hot.  By one in the afternoon we were wilted, so we caught the bus back to the marina, swapped the camera for beach mats and went for a dip in the Med.  Maggie found a shady spot under some date palms and we enjoyed a couple of beers purchased from a kiosk on the beach.  Blissful!

Branko

Happy 51st Birthday Branko

Just saying,   It is Branko's 51st birthday today.

Happy new year to you Mr Branko!

Love and kisses,
Sophie and Maggie

A Slice of Life – Sicilian Style

We have been living in Europe for almost a year and I still haven't mastered the loose change. The Euro centimos, denominated in 1, 2, 5, 10, 20, and 50 centimos as well as 1 and 2 euro coins resemble each other so much that it is difficult for me without my reading glasses to tell apart the 1's, 2's and 5's; the 10's, 20's and 50's; and the 1 and 2 euro coins. As a result, rather than bother fumbling with the change, we collect it into a huge pile on the boat and keep breaking bills, which, thankfully, are easy to tell apart. After a while, though, I grit my teeth and embark on a mission to spend the change the next time we have to go shopping.

Today was the day to do that here in Empedocle, Sicily. So, armed with a small Ziploc bag crammed with coins, Maggie and I ventured into town to buy stuff. We went to the Carrefour and bought a couple of excellent bottles of red wine (which we are sipping as I write this and the sun sets) and some apples for 4.35 euros. At the check out, I had in hand my wallet with the bills I was hoping not to break and my baggie full of change. The lovely cashier-lady looked at my baggie and said something in Italian which I gathered was to question if I wanted to use the change. With that said, I gave her the bag and she proceeded to count out the change. There were only a few euro coins and mostly 1,2, 5, and 10 centimo copper coins because we had been on a spending spree with the larger coins earlier in the day.

When she began counting, nobody was in line behind us but soon a queue grew and there was a tiny bit of grumbling. The cashier-lady smiled and waved them off. Then she lost count and had to start over, still smiling. I stood there sheepishly self-conscious (in our typically polite, apologetic Canadian manner) that I was wasting everybody's time and was about to break down and offer to break a bill when she finished, looked up and asked me something which I took to mean “you don't have enough for the bill; do you have any more change?” I shrugged my non-comprehension and people in the line started asking which language I spoke. I replied, “English, Croatian, and a little Spanish” and got no intelligible response. A man asked if I spoke German. So I handed her a fiver and the lady took it and a bunch of change and gave me a couple of shiny euro coins. Mission accomplished: the pile of change had shrunk and my pants were no longer being dragged down with metal as I lurched down the street like the Ghost of Christmas Past.

We have been away from Canada for a while now, so maybe I am forgetting how things are done there, but I am pretty sure I couldn't go anywhere and hand someone a bag of coins to pay for my groceries nor anything else.

We also visited Greek ruins in the Valley of the Temples near Agrigento and they were marvellous. Try doing that in Canada, too.

Branko

P.S. I apologize for sounding like I am being harsh on Canada. I am not – really – I'm just saying is all.

Landfall in Sicily

This morning we arrived in Mazara Del Vallo, a small city on the west coast of Sicily, after a fantastic day of broad reach sailing. It was a great way to finish our 4-day passage from Mahon, a trip of about 450 nm. We pulled in early in the morning and dropped anchor thinking we might stay for a couple of days. The anchorage offers good holding in mud behind the break wall of the city harbor, but it is open to the easterly winds.

Since we are headed eastward, those are the winds that we would want to shelter from and the forecast for the next several days is calling for them. So we are moving eastward tonight, while we still have northwesterly winds, to the city of Empodocle that has a better harbor and potential for anchorage while we wait for better winds to take us to Siracusa.

According to our Imray cruising guide, Sicily does not have a lot of good anchorages and marinas are the only option if you want to cruise this island. But we are trying to take advantage of the ones that exist. Empodocle is only 50 miles away, so an overnight sail will get us there in the morning before the contrary winds set in.

We did manage to get a little rest and do a few chores while at anchor here in Vallo, but we did not get to shore so we will miss seeing it.

Branko

Fun With Rope Off the Coast of Sardinia

We had a fantastic sail yesterday: wind on the beam that started at around 9:00 am and kept up all day and into the wee hours. We were able to make 5.5 to 6 knots almost the whole time. The seas had calmed, which was why we had waited the extra day in Mahon and all was just great.

By nightfall we were in sight of the Del Toro lighthouse on the southern most island of Sardinia. The weather forecast for the next two days looked good, so we decided to keep pressing on for Sicily. I went to bed at midnight as Maggie started her watch. Overnight we take 3 hour turns on watch. At three a.m., I awoke to the sound of sails, ropes, and deck hardware flogging as the breeze died and we wallowed in the slight swell. No problem; we started the engine to continue on under power. I figured that was the price to pay for the terrific sail the day before. But there was a bigger price to pay.

Maggie let me go back to sleep because she was feeling wide awake, so I did. An hour later, I heard a sound that the boat doesn't normally make. It's difficult to describe the feeling when that happens. When you live on a boat, especially at sea, you are very tuned in to all the sounds that it makes. It is a virtual symphony of noises. Creaks, squeaks, rattles, knocks and groans just from the hull and rig. Then there are the sounds the engine makes. An unusual sound always means trouble, so when you hear one you heart skips a beat and your mind starts racing trying to figure out what is wrong.

Abnormal engine noises are the worst because a) they will be expensive to fix b) we need our engine to maneuver close to land or get to a dock to be able to fix any problem. We were about 50 miles from Cagliari, so we could sail to it if we had to, but that depends on the wind. Uncertainties were abounding and so was the commercial vessel traffic in the dark of 4 a.m. and my adrenalin was pumping. The sound was a rhythmic knocking sound so I figured it might be a rope around the propeller, but I would have to wait a few hours until daylight to swim under the boat to check it. In the meantime, I did some further diagnosis of the engine. It wasn't overheating and sounded fine running in neutral. In forward gear there was a strange vibration to the whole boat and the knocking sound. Then I tried reverse to see what would happen. The engine stopped dead. Oh oh.

In neutral, the engine started, so at least it wasn't seized. I could not turn the shaft by hand at first, but slowly worked it to move a little, so I felt that the transmission was not seized either. So far, so good - it had to be something wrapped around the prop. We have Spurs line cutters that have worked for us when we picked up some rope in Culatra, Portugal, so I could not understand what it might be, but I feared a huge ball of melted plastic rope that I would have to saw off the shaft with my scuba gear on. I only had 45 minutes of air since I used a third of my tank adjusting the propeller pitch and never got it refilled.

By now, the sun had dawned and I got ready to snorkel under the boat to assess the situation. As soon as I positioned the dinghy, which we tow, behind the mothership, I saw a 1 inch thick piece of polypropylene rope floating and leading to the propeller. The fishermen use this stuff on their big nets and when they repair them they simply throw overboard whatever was cut away. This piece was about 5 feet long. Luckily, I was able to just untangle it to clear it away while holding my breath - no cutting.

Greatly relieved at not having to do any sawing under a boat heaving in a swell, there was only one more thing to do and that was to check that the power train was not damaged in any way. I started up the engine and apprehensively put it into gear and .......it worked.

We were ecstatic. While it was unlucky to have the rope tangle the prop in the first place, there were so many things that went right that we gratefully acknowledged afterwards. I even said to Maggie that it almost seems worth having the problem in the first place just to feel so good about successfully fixing it. But perhaps that is taking things a little too far. Now we are powering underway to Sicily again and things are back to our version of normal.

Branko

Mahon Is Behind Us

We left Mahon yesterday morning a day later than we anticipated. We stayed the extra day to wait out some foul weather and to wait for the waves to moderate.

Right now it is 0500 hours and we have been motoring (again) for about 10 hours. We are expecting some fair winds today and look forward to some sailing.

If all goes well we will land in Sicily three days from now. We also have the option of stopping in Sardinia if we have to.

Branko

Ready To Leave Menorca

After over a week at anchor near Mahon, we are looking for an opportunity to head east.  The winds look good for the next two days which will get us to Sardinia.  However, if the winds co-operate we would continue onwards to Sicily, the tip of which is 450 miles away.  But I am getting way ahead of myself.  One never knows what winds we will see once we leave, or even if the forecast will hold up for tomorrow.

While on Menorca we took a bus trip to the other end to visit Ciutadella, which we loved.  Yesterday we hiked over to some prehistoric ruins near Mahon.  The evening we spent on the beach cooking on a fire, which Maggie organised for the anchorage.  Among the folks present were Bob and Connie from Meredith, fellow Canadians that have crossed our paths several times before.  In fact, for a few days there were three Canadian boats in the anchorage and I think we must have made history.  The third was Noel and Ceu from Life Part II.

We will be reporting our position from sea enroute.  Pictures will have to wait until we get some good internet.

Last Stop in Spain

We arrived in Mahon, Menorca yesterday after only a 10 hour stop in Mallorca. We rested, we ate, we checked the weather and then we decided that it was time to head for Menorca, the last island in the Balearics. From here we go to Sardinia or directly to Sicily. We know that we will return for a more extensive tour of these beautiful islands before we leave the Med.

Today we spent in Mahon. It is a beautiful and historic city located beside the best harbour in the Mediterranean Sea, according to Lord Admiral Nelson. We are in an anchorage that I would rate a hurricane hole because it is surrounded by land and has a sand bottom with excellent holding. I have no problem leaving the boat unattended while we tour. So we will. We plan to take a bus trip back to the other end of the island tomorrow to Ciudella which was the former capital city of the island.

A few days here swinging at anchor while we wait for a decent weather window for the passage eastward towards the Adriatic Sea won't be too hard to take.

Branko