Crossing the Tyrrhenian Sea (Termini Imerese - Sardinia).

 

After a frustrating windowless week or so, my current captain (Julie) has tracked down a suitable weather window for us to continue our journey West.

Today is Friday, the plan is to depart tomorrow morning around 10ish aiming for the North of Sardinia.

The sun is out today, the breeze is light, there’s little to no rock and roll to the boat… ah life is good.

Popped to shore:

- Dropped the rubbish

- Fed the marina cats the tins of fake Spam (Zwan) which we’ve agreed are definitely not going to be consumed by us.

- Topped up provisions.

Arriving ashore, we found a few more people milling around than usual - it’s market day.

This was greeted by something close to glee from Julie and slumped shouldered resignation from me.

It wasn’t too bad to be fair, and Julie did pick up some fabric along the way.

We passed all the usual stalls: shitty nylon clothes, cheap plastic kitchenware, soon to break tools and various other slightly dodgy market delights.

Off to the supermarket next: walking around, Julie noted;

‘There’s no bacon’

This statement was enough to trigger one of the locals within earshot, to initially, quite gruffly tell us:

“Itsa pancetta not bacon - don’ta call it bacon!”

He actually turned out to be a quite friendly guy, who offered to assist with any of our shopping translations needs.

Back to the boat, outboard off, tender up, and take my shoes off for the next three days or so.

Wobble checked the engine:

(Water, oil, belts, bilges, look around, exhaust) - all seems fine.

There’s an air of excitement building, something that had definitely been absent for the last week - this was aided by Julie developing and printing out a shift schedule for the upcoming shortish hop. Hoping it pans out better than the previous one where we lost a crew member to seasickness.

Day 1: Sat 17th Oct.

It’s morning and we’re off!

I would love to say that it went without a hitch.. but where’s the fun in that?!

I managed to completely wedge the raised anchor crossways in the hoop. It jammed as it performed a final spin before clunking home. After trying to unsuccessfully re-lower it and wiggle it free by hand, I eventually needed to give it a couple of firm technical taps with a large club hammer to resolve the issue. An inauspicious start to our journey that Julie was thankfully quite understanding and forgiving about.

Sea state is calm, a little roll (barely anything), but definitely more than we’ve had in the anchorage for the last 12 (yes 12!) days that we’ve spent there.

Goodbye Sicily - it’s been, well it’s been pretty weird how this has all worked out, but we’ve joked our way through the days and time hasn’t dragged too much. It helped that it’s a very beautiful rugged island with quaint towns and cobbled streets.

Main thing I’m worrying about as we head off is how on earth I’m going to come up with a ‘saying of the day’ tomorrow when we’re internetless?!

I’ll start spitballing now.. and see how we go:

-Clouds are like moods, occasionally dark and stormy, a bit of sunshine will eventually burn them away.

-Inside the boat is dry, outside the sea is wet - keep it that way.

-A good captain always has wind, unless they’re taking stomach enzyme tablets.

-Big smiles pass the miles.

OK - it’s a start and some of them might do.

We’re passing Palermo now, I’ve just come up on shift (noon), having spent my free time making a chicken and white wine stew concoction.

There’s an annoying amount of random fishing buoys bobbing around in or around our path, other than that - not much to report.

Managed to nap on one of the sofas in the salon for an hour or so after my shift finished at 3pm.

I woke craving tea - this resulted in me shrieking (and possibly swearing like a sailor) as I scalded myself.

A full, kettle hot, cuppa dousing the back of my hand after a particularly vicious roll of the boat tipped it over.

Frozen peas applied for a five minutes. No harm done and soon forgotten.

Dined together at shift change 6/7pm on the stew I made earlier - and I’m now on until 10pm, with barely anything except ocean visible on all sides: Sicily has receded enough that its towns are now just small hints of glow beyond the darkening horizon.

It’s just me and the ocean (well, sea to be technically correct).. regardless: I’m back in the game!

Slept from 10 until about 12:30am, then back up with a coffee and a snack pack to take over from Julie until 4am. With the moon now set, a recently risen Orion and his fellow constellations are liberally salting our night sky.

I put on my ‘Need waking up on night watch’ playlist on the headphones and settle in for the night.

Back to the bunk at 4..

Shortly after...

I sprang from my light slumber when I heard Julie call for ‘Help’ from up on deck.

I think she’s let the Genoa sheet go and she wants a hand to pull it back in.

If any of you have read my Pacific crossing blog, you can probably guess where this is going.

A relaxed, calmly seated, somewhat bemused, and now slightly shocked Julie is staring at me as I dash up the companionway steps.

“Didn’t you call for help?”

“No”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes”

“So you definitely didn’t call for help then?”

“No”

…and I’m back off to bed.

Day 2 Sunday 18th Oct.

Woke to a request from the captain to do some engine checks - both of us having seen a red light on the engine panel last night. All appears good.

We’ve sailed for the last 4 hours with a beam/following wind just shy of 10knots.

The sun pops up as Julie heads to bed.

Can confirm the saying for the day will indeed be: ‘Big smiles pass the miles’.

After just an hour below, I’m forced to wake her up again..

A water spout is rapidly growing and heading our way - time to take down the sails and start the engine.

It grew, we stared.

It grew some more..

It connected with the sea below, churning up the water into a vortex at its base.

Then, thankfully, it faded, merging back into the dark cloud that birthed it. (The recent tornado in Sicily still sits close to the forefront of our minds)

Writing this 1/2 hour later, that weather system seems to have bypassed us, Julie’s headed back below, and despite it turning into a none event, I’m standing by the decision to disturb the skippers sleep. Better safe than sorry.

Day progressed well with little need for engine.

Early afternoon, I had, what is best described as a robust discussion with Julie about whether or not to have the main out. I was of course right.

…Glad this my diary and not hers

Despite this minor disagreement, we had a fun afternoon verbally jousting and generally enjoying the day and each other’s company. This whole situation is one that neither of us could have envisaged, but we are - for now - thoroughly enjoying it.

That ‘for now’ is foreshadowing the storms due to hit us tonight.

Ho hum.

I was joined by a small bird in the afternoon (my guess in the absence of Google would be a Sardinian Warbler, but we’ll see) - blown off course or simply hitchhiking, he happily hopped around the boat looking for a suitable nest site for the day. Luckily Julie was asleep, she’s not as ornithologically inclined as me!

Wind picked up at 6ish, and I’m writing this at midnight, and the wind has stayed strong enough for the Genoa to keep its shape, and have us going along at around 5 knots all night. The storm may yet materialise, but as yet, other than an occasional flash on the horizon, we’ve had a clear night.

As the moon sets for the night, we’re starting to see once again see the glow from land, this time in front of us. Off to bed at 1.. and it’s so so rolly. New noises and rattles that I haven’t heard before make sleep (nearly) impossible. Julie gives me a shout at 3:30ish, with perhaps just a hint of concern in her voice - I head up into a pretty spectacular light show, lightening flashes in front of us towards land every 5 seconds or so. And sufficient wind that she’s reefed us down to a mere hanky of Genoa. All being well, she’s timed it so the storms should be moving off before we get there, and we’ll be dropping anchor mid morning.

…and that’s exactly what we did!

Now safely tucked away in little bay North East Sardina. I swam on the anchor to check it - wonderfully clear water, and the blade of the anchor well dug in. Just as well: 40knot winds due tomorrow!