Upon arrival in Italy, we went up the Fiumicino River canal and stayed a couple of nights in a co-operative marina (cheap for Italy but twice as expensive as France), then moved to the canal wall outside the Customs office. This was comfortable and secure and constantly decorated by a string of dashingly good looking young Italian men. Where in the world are customs officials good looking? Officially, we could remain there free for seven days, but effectively we stayed for about ten days. There was water available but, sadly, no power.
The view up the Fiumicino Canal.
We had a great time here. We met some very nice people and went to Rome by bus a number of times. Rome was every bit as fabulous as we expected and we did all the touristy bits, like the Colliseum, the Trevi Fountain and St Peter’s Cathedral. Public transport in Italy was cheap and so was food in the markets. The countryside is very pretty, green and fertile. We were unlucky with restaurants. My favourite food is Italian but the couple of times we dined out the food was not remarkable.
The Collisseum - tourism thrives
Roman Ruins.
About a week into our stay a bad storm blew in with heavy rains that washed the most extraordinary flotsam down the river from Rome – huge tree trunks and branches, lots of rubbish and many dead animals. The terrific amount of mud washed down from the surrounding countryside fouled up the water and it was heartbreaking to watch hundreds of fish desperately gasping out of the water, trying to clear their clogged up gills. The wind eased after three days and we were ready to leave. Inside the canal, of course, we had been pretty well unaffected by the wind.
On our last night we were told there was a bit of a festival in town so we set ourselves up in a café with the captain and two young crew members from the Canadian boat Stitches Explorer. We never did find the festival, but managed to have a splendid evening tucking into numerous bottles of local Vinho Rossi Frizanti (cheap, sparkling red wine). The next morning at 7 am, Mike was up and bustling about, ignoring my pathetic pleas that we leave it for another day to recover. I seemed to recall the Canadian skipper pointing out that though the wind had now dropped, there would still be a big uncomfortable swell outside the canal, and I felt sick just thinking about it. But Mike’s ears were switched off; he untied the boat and headed into the middle of the river. The bridge attendant blew his alarm to warn foot traffic off the bridge and prepared to lift the bridge. Mike was still a bit pissed I think, because he throttled up and headed towards the bridge, which was lifting very slowly. The outgoing and still very strong current got a good grip on Forever and we started shooting down river. I squawked frantically, which served no good purpose except to probably distract him further. He finally swung sideways and went hard into reverse, but it was too late and we smacked the top of the starboard shroud against the bridge in a long grinding slide, and then pinged off backwards. No harm done, and thank goodness there were no large vessels waiting behind us. Somewhat chastened, we did a full swing round again and then slid through the now fully opened bridge, praying that none of our new friends had witnessed this debacle. Hopefully they also were nursing hangovers in their beds.
As predicted, when we got out into the ocean, there was a horrible swell, which combined with my hangover, put me in a wretched heap on my bunk all day and the valiant Mike was left to sail alone. I thought it served him right.
On our last night we were told there was a bit of a festival in town so we set ourselves up in a café with the captain and two young crew members from the Canadian boat Stitches Explorer. We never did find the festival, but managed to have a splendid evening tucking into numerous bottles of local Vinho Rossi Frizanti (cheap, sparkling red wine). The next morning at 7 am, Mike was up and bustling about, ignoring my pathetic pleas that we leave it for another day to recover. I seemed to recall the Canadian skipper pointing out that though the wind had now dropped, there would still be a big uncomfortable swell outside the canal, and I felt sick just thinking about it. But Mike’s ears were switched off; he untied the boat and headed into the middle of the river. The bridge attendant blew his alarm to warn foot traffic off the bridge and prepared to lift the bridge. Mike was still a bit pissed I think, because he throttled up and headed towards the bridge, which was lifting very slowly. The outgoing and still very strong current got a good grip on Forever and we started shooting down river. I squawked frantically, which served no good purpose except to probably distract him further. He finally swung sideways and went hard into reverse, but it was too late and we smacked the top of the starboard shroud against the bridge in a long grinding slide, and then pinged off backwards. No harm done, and thank goodness there were no large vessels waiting behind us. Somewhat chastened, we did a full swing round again and then slid through the now fully opened bridge, praying that none of our new friends had witnessed this debacle. Hopefully they also were nursing hangovers in their beds.
As predicted, when we got out into the ocean, there was a horrible swell, which combined with my hangover, put me in a wretched heap on my bunk all day and the valiant Mike was left to sail alone. I thought it served him right.
The approach to the island of Capri.
From the top of Capri - Forever is somewhere in that huddle of boats..
We continued south and visited the islands of Santa Ponza and then Ventotene, island of many exiles. Octavia, the wife of Nero, was exiled on the island at the request of Nero’s mistress, Poppea Sabina. Later he had her head cut off and presented to Poppea – nice lady. The emperor Caesar Augustus exiled his promiscuous daughter Julia here and we visited the palace ruins where she had lived and entertained her many lovers.
The anchorage at Ventotene was very rocky which initially pleased Mike as he figured the anchor was well hooked, but our chain suffered terribly. Eventually, a fellow sailor suggested we put a nylon snubber on the chain to ease the jerking and that really worked. After that Mike always put a snubber on every time we anchored, no matter what the conditions. After a couple of days we went back to the Italian mainland and anchored in Miseno, took a bus into Naples and a short train ride to the ancient city of Pompeii, buried by ash and rock when the volcano Vesuvius erupted in 79AD. The reconstruction work is ongoing, but they have uncovered most of the original buildings, and it was awesome to walk around what must have once been a very beautiful, sophisticated and thriving city so long ago. Hopeless creature that I am, I forgot to take my camera that day, so there are no photos.
From Naples we motored (no wind) to Capri where we anchored off Isola Faraglioni, and then moved on, ever southwards to Agropoli, again in very little wind. Here we found we could stay in the harbour on the visitor’s quay for three days free, so we did just that. We befriended the New Zealand boat A Different Song and I toured the ancient Greek ruins of Paestum with Jane, whilst Mike did boatie things with Fenton.
The anchorage at Ventotene was very rocky which initially pleased Mike as he figured the anchor was well hooked, but our chain suffered terribly. Eventually, a fellow sailor suggested we put a nylon snubber on the chain to ease the jerking and that really worked. After that Mike always put a snubber on every time we anchored, no matter what the conditions. After a couple of days we went back to the Italian mainland and anchored in Miseno, took a bus into Naples and a short train ride to the ancient city of Pompeii, buried by ash and rock when the volcano Vesuvius erupted in 79AD. The reconstruction work is ongoing, but they have uncovered most of the original buildings, and it was awesome to walk around what must have once been a very beautiful, sophisticated and thriving city so long ago. Hopeless creature that I am, I forgot to take my camera that day, so there are no photos.
From Naples we motored (no wind) to Capri where we anchored off Isola Faraglioni, and then moved on, ever southwards to Agropoli, again in very little wind. Here we found we could stay in the harbour on the visitor’s quay for three days free, so we did just that. We befriended the New Zealand boat A Different Song and I toured the ancient Greek ruins of Paestum with Jane, whilst Mike did boatie things with Fenton.
The Basillica at Paestum .
25 August
After our three free days, we headed south towards Sicily in calm sea conditions. Three days later, only eight miles from Ustica, we changed our minds and decided to sail straight back to Majorca. This was going to be my first really long trip, in preparation for the long haul across the Atlantic, to see if I could hack it. Unfortunately, soon after turning west, we hit a weird storm that raged on for days. I say weird because there was not a cloud in the sky, ever, but the wind just kept howling. The sea, of course, got very lumpy, and we then discovered, with huge waves constantly washing over the bow of the boat, that there was a leak somewhere into the forepeak, soaking everything in salt water. After five days, we reached the southern tip of Sardinia and dived for cover into the port of Villasimius where we rested for two days until the weather eased. Investigations into the cause of the leak in the forepeak revealed that the yanking on the anchor chain in Ventotene had loosened the windlass. This is a vital piece of equipment with which you hoist the anchor up, and put it down again. Another lesson learned and another job to do when we got back to Palma. I spent two enchanting days washing everything in the forepeak, including the mattresses, and drying it all on deck!
It took us a further two peaceful days to sail slowly back to Majorca. The wind had died off again (one extreme to the other!) and we had a flat glassy sea most of the way which produced amazing sunsets.
After our three free days, we headed south towards Sicily in calm sea conditions. Three days later, only eight miles from Ustica, we changed our minds and decided to sail straight back to Majorca. This was going to be my first really long trip, in preparation for the long haul across the Atlantic, to see if I could hack it. Unfortunately, soon after turning west, we hit a weird storm that raged on for days. I say weird because there was not a cloud in the sky, ever, but the wind just kept howling. The sea, of course, got very lumpy, and we then discovered, with huge waves constantly washing over the bow of the boat, that there was a leak somewhere into the forepeak, soaking everything in salt water. After five days, we reached the southern tip of Sardinia and dived for cover into the port of Villasimius where we rested for two days until the weather eased. Investigations into the cause of the leak in the forepeak revealed that the yanking on the anchor chain in Ventotene had loosened the windlass. This is a vital piece of equipment with which you hoist the anchor up, and put it down again. Another lesson learned and another job to do when we got back to Palma. I spent two enchanting days washing everything in the forepeak, including the mattresses, and drying it all on deck!
It took us a further two peaceful days to sail slowly back to Majorca. The wind had died off again (one extreme to the other!) and we had a flat glassy sea most of the way which produced amazing sunsets.
Glassy sunsets
.
We saw two turtles, loads of dolphins, small striped fish and jellyfish. We just stopped the boat at one point and had a swim in the sea - one at a time, of course. The thought of the boat sailing off and leaving the two of us stranded in the ocean didn’t bear contemplating. The weather was perfect; warm and sunny but not too hot. With a flat sea the boat's motion was no more than a soothing roll and we could sleep easily at night. I loved to lie on my bunk and look up through the hatch overhead and watch the night sky, which is infinitely clearer and far more beautiful at sea.
Dolphins under Forever's bow
.
5 September
Returning to Majorca, we stopped briefly in Porto Colom, then day sailed to Colonia San Jordi, where we spent a couple of restful nights at anchor, and got back to the marina in Palma at the beginning of September. It was great to bump into numerous old friends again as well as Jane and Fenton on A Different Song. In between all the socialising I got to play with our new electronic charts and had lots of fun with that – more entertaining and useful than my normal ‘mad cow’ prevention - crosswords. We also had loads of work to do on the boat, and were successful with some and not others. We bought an inverter so I could run the computer off the 12 volt system and Mike promised we would sort out the power problem. Ha ha - watch this space later on!
Returning to Majorca, we stopped briefly in Porto Colom, then day sailed to Colonia San Jordi, where we spent a couple of restful nights at anchor, and got back to the marina in Palma at the beginning of September. It was great to bump into numerous old friends again as well as Jane and Fenton on A Different Song. In between all the socialising I got to play with our new electronic charts and had lots of fun with that – more entertaining and useful than my normal ‘mad cow’ prevention - crosswords. We also had loads of work to do on the boat, and were successful with some and not others. We bought an inverter so I could run the computer off the 12 volt system and Mike promised we would sort out the power problem. Ha ha - watch this space later on!
The quote to fix the fridge, which had never worked, was too expensive so we decided to carry on without one - for ‘we’ read Mike, as I still pined for a cold gin and tonic. We did manage to get our sails re-stitched where necessary, and Mike spent days firmly re-attaching the windlass to the deck. We intended to try and get things like extra batteries, solar panels and an SSB radio in Gibraltar. There were dozens of other things we would have liked such as radar, wind generator, self steering wind vane, but couldn’t afford, so we’d have to manage with what we had. There are actually yachts out there with every mod con you can think of including satellite phones, televisions, deep freezers, washing machines and microwaves - imagine that. I tried not to.
We’d had a superb summer travelling around and had learned lots, about the boat and about ourselves. The words 'mutiny' and even 'divorce' had been bandied about quite frequently (by me) and we still had moments of great irritation with each other. But as no one had been pushed overboard yet we thought we might survive the journey and hoped we were past the worst of it. To be perfectly honest, I had not enjoyed that last five day sail, but I felt I could hack it and felt rather (inordinately) proud of myself. Whereas I had been a little anxious about the looming Atlantic trip, I was now looking forward to it. The prospect of what was awaiting me on the other side was quite irresistable. I still got seasick occasionally, but it didn't usually last long. Mike never got seasick (or if he did he didn’t admit to it), but then he was out on deck all day and it was me (‘er down below) who had to try and cook, clean, make tea, plot courses on the computer, fiddle with the GPS entering waypoints, etc. Who wouldn’t be sick?
We’d had a superb summer travelling around and had learned lots, about the boat and about ourselves. The words 'mutiny' and even 'divorce' had been bandied about quite frequently (by me) and we still had moments of great irritation with each other. But as no one had been pushed overboard yet we thought we might survive the journey and hoped we were past the worst of it. To be perfectly honest, I had not enjoyed that last five day sail, but I felt I could hack it and felt rather (inordinately) proud of myself. Whereas I had been a little anxious about the looming Atlantic trip, I was now looking forward to it. The prospect of what was awaiting me on the other side was quite irresistable. I still got seasick occasionally, but it didn't usually last long. Mike never got seasick (or if he did he didn’t admit to it), but then he was out on deck all day and it was me (‘er down below) who had to try and cook, clean, make tea, plot courses on the computer, fiddle with the GPS entering waypoints, etc. Who wouldn’t be sick?
Great story Peggy and Mike. Great memories.
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