Rolling Rolling Rolling (Sicily)

 

Forgetting all the angst over the arrival check in process, our first port of call since leaving Greece; Siracusa, turned out to be rather lovely:

The singsong shouts of the local market stall holders, the wide variety of gorgeous fresh foods, the sun baked marble streets, the well preserved architecture, and the overall charm of this little gem of a place, has put it high on the list of places I would recommend others visit ...and somewhere I’d gladly return to.

Leaving there this morning at dawn, I discovered some fishing net and floats had become entangled around our chain. I managed to wave down two passing fishermen in an oversized row boat called the ‘Maria Louisa’, who kindly came over and untangled the mess for us. With smiles, waves and a poorly pronounced ‘Gratzie Mille’ from me, we left the protection of Siracusa bay. As the sun peeped up through the palm trees and over the castle ramparts at the bay entrance, we set off on our way. The destination for today is not quite pinned down yet.. we need to keep moving West, and plan to head along the South coast of Sicily for the next 24hrs or so and see how far we get.

It was a little rolly outside the bay, but nothing major - mild cupboard rattle rather than smashed plates and injuries.

I threw yet another fishing lure off the stern, having seen the fish available locally at the market, I’m assuming I’ll be hooking a tuna or swordfish within minutes.. or perhaps I’ll just lose a lure and catch nothing as usual.

I got to thinking that perhaps all these lures I keep losing are maybe being eaten by the same fish, a fiendish monster who stalks our progress and delights in chomping them off. I’m hoping that perhaps one day I’ll catch him: as I eventually heave him on board, he’ll let rip an almighty spluttering burp and the deck will be littered with all my old lures...

As we turn the corner (bottom right) of Sicily, the sea state calms and we’re joined by dolphins..

This is usually met with excited squeals from both Chez and I, today however as Chez happily scampers to the bow to say hello, my response to the cry of “Dolphins!” was:

“Oh shit....”

I needed to frantically wind my fishing line in from the stern, not wanting to catch a dolphin - There’s not enough room in the fridge!!

....sorry off on another tangent: I’m joking of course about there not being enough room in the fridge, but I’m guessing catching dolphins must happen: lures are made to look like fish.. and dolphins eat fish. It’s not something I’ve ever heard anyone mention - a taboo subject I suppose - it would be a dark day in anyone’s fishing life to snag one of those beauties.

The dolphins stayed with us long enough to widen our grins before heading off on their merry way. Saw our second pod within half an hour of the first, they too, did a quick dance around our bow before also heading off.

Among the other morning highlights was an impromptu dive from the stern in my undies to rescue a rather nice volleyball that was bobbing by. We were about a mile off shore at this stage, the water was warm and as clear and blue as a cut sapphire - that’s very clear and very blue in case there’s any confusion.

The rest of the day passed without much going on, the almost perfect wind, which blew for a few hours around lunchtime, slowly diminished and left us once again motoring along. At time of writing (sunset), I’m yet to get a nibble on the lure that’s been dragging all day. ...and just to update that, pulled the lure in at around 9ish, no bite, but also no lost lure, which, by this stage (3 years, no fish, about 20 ‘lost’ lures) is a win!

At 10ish Chez got her head down in the cabin, while I kept lookout as best I could in the moonless night, swapped out at 2ish for me to get some rest.

Arrived at an alleged anchorage along the Southern coast next to the local tourist spot - the Turkish steps (some nice stepped sandstone ). I say alleged anchorage because although the depth and holding were both good, the swell unrelentingly lumbered in from the South, making it far too uncomfortable to stay and rest for too long. Leaving there, we decide that rather than hugging the pretty coastline, we would head off shore in search of a breath of wind - a rare commodity over the last 24hrs. Found some! ...Sitting writing this now gliding along at a sedate 4knots, engine off, Chez dozing below.

Chez woke wind dropped engine on... I’m not saying there’s any correlation.. but she didn’t get the nickname ‘Diesel Deirdre’ for nothing!!

Motored the last couple of hours to our next stop, our last before the Western Sicilian town of Trapani.

This next short stop at the last anchorage along the South coast was another rolly spot. An exposed sandy beach overlooked by not one, but two impressive Roman temples. We anchored in 7m with both main and kedge anchor out. The surf we were pitching in (pitching instead of rolling because of the kedge anchor) was worthy of an episode of Bondi Rescue, with 3m sets constantly rolling in, big enough to catch out a few sunburnt backpackers and keep the lifeguards busy. It was supposed to be a meal stop, but Chez’s tummy wasn’t enjoying the ride, so after a hot drink and a sit down we headed off again at sunset on the last overnight leg up the West coast to Trapani.

...and now it’s just gone midnight, we’ve turned North to head up the West coast, we’re sailing and there’s really not that much more to report.. which is just as well as I’ve rambled for far too long already!