Professional Skipper - Free Sample issue (July/Aug 2011)

Precarious ramps and shelter for fishing boats at Salina A pod of dolphins joined us off the northern coast of Sicily At Filicudi we found a picturesque village and a reasonably good anchorage. When we went to leave we found, to our dismay, our anchor had mysteriously wrapped around a cable. Fortunately a spearfisherman in the bay helped us to get free. We carried on with little wind to the island of Salina, where we anchored just outside the harbour in about 10m of water. The wind started to blow as we approached Salina and by nightfall it was fairly screaming. We should have been sheltered but Salina was around 1000m high, with very steep hills, and the back eddies blew from every direction in gusts of up to 40 knots. To make matters worse, large concrete mooring blocks on the bottom fouled our chain and often jerked us to a sudden stop. Two days later, after little sleep and about five re-anchors, we were pleased to leave and head for Limpari, the most populated of the islands and a lovely place, too. We opted for a marina berth for 40 euros a night, and were happy to be tied to something solid and enjoy a tranquil sleep. As Stromboli also has a very poor anchorage we decided to stay in Limpari and do an excursion to the island. We were unable to get on a trip the next day but were offered a trip to Volcano Island, next to Limpari, and do Stromboli the following day. The 400m climb up the volcano was well worth it, with great views and clouds of strong-smelling sulphur. We could see Stromboli in the distance, puffing smoke into the sky, the blue sea sparkling, criss-crossed by ferries and hydrofoils. On the way back to Limpari our skipper told us our trip to Stromboli was off, as he had no other bookings. We were all disappointed but I was a little relieved, as the 1000m climb would have put me to the test, I know. We ate at a restaurant on the waterfront and the owner turned out to have lived in Sydney for many years. He spoke perfect English and intrigued us with his stories. The food was excellent, as was the local wine, so made for a good evening. The next morning we left for our passage through the Straits of Messina. We dropped into a chandlery shop and found the owner had been in Auckland as a sailmaker for the Mascalzonie Latino team and knew Massimo Cassini, the previous owner of Cristina. Talk about a small world. To cap it off, he was fairly sure Massimo was on Salina as a race week taking place there. We left the marina and headed across an oily sea towards 32 Professional Skipper July/August 2011 r Messina, sailing and motorsailing, as we had a few miles to cover. As we approached Cape Peloro, the entrance to the Messina Straits, we watched several large cruise ships exit the straits and head towards Stromboli. We had just passed the full moon and the pilot books talked of up to four knots of current either way at spring tides. We soon realised the tide was against us so decided to head to the town of Scilla instead. The harbour near the Old Town was very pretty but we opted for the beach on the southern side of the town, but oh, did it roll. We left early, as the next sheltered port around the toe of Italy was 70 miles away, and had a great sail south past Messina and Reggio Calabria. We passed some swordfishing boats and what a sight they are. The boat itself is around 10-15m long, with a metal mast about 20m tall from where the captain perches and drives the boat. At the bow is a metal gangway about 20m long, where a man with a long spear waits. It is all held up with numerous stays and cables and looks decidedly unsafe and unseaworthy. The captain spots a swordfish, slowly drives the boat up until the man at the front hurls the spear. We saw the sneak-up bit happen but the spear missed, and wondered what the language was like from the captain high up in his perch. We ran out of wind so continued to motorsail around the big toe and headed up to Rocella Ionica. We passed through several prohibited areas marked on our chartplotter. One was a small arms firing range! How we were supposed to avoid this area was a mystery, as it extended miles out to sea. All around the coast of the toe are endless towns, all seemingly linked and many huge industrial areas, mostly derelict. Many old towns perched high up in the rocky mountains were built there, out of reach of pirates and slavers. Towards Rocella, the urban stringline ran out and the towns were spaced much further apart. Every scrap of productive land is used and we wondered what life for these people is really like. We made our way into the marina at Roccella very slowly, as the place had silted up and the entrance was very shallow. Crotone was about 55 miles away and once again there was not a lot of wind. We were trying to catch our dinner and even saw swordfish jumping out of the water, but had no luck, though on the previous day we spotted an inflatable swordfish that must have blown off the beach. We picked it up with the boathook and set it free again! Crotone appeared to be a big holiday resort with some of the most beautiful women in Italy, but it was a shadow of its former self. We decided to stay and make use of the two washing machines at the marina office. Cristina looked like a Chinese laundry and

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