Cavtat and Dubrovnik, Croatia

Backtracking a bit from John's last exciting post, our passage from Brindisi to Gruž (near Dubrovnik) was uneventful and relatively fast. The seas were flat, and although we didn’t have enough wind to turn off the engine, we did get a boost of more than a knot in speed. The new moon set around sundown, so the night watches were very dark, but the nearest traffic was 20 miles away and the stars were very bright.

A Canadian boat we met in Brindisi recommended that we clear in at Gruž. Clearing in means stops at the following offices in order: police, harbormaster, currency exchange and/or ATM, back to harbormaster, customs, and back to the police. At Gruž these are all either at the customs dock or within a block. It’s an expensive process, though. At the harbormaster’s office you must buy a one-year cruising permit and pay a tourist tax. The cruising permit is based on the length of your boat, but it’s always for a year. The tourist tax may be for different periods of time from 8 days to a year. We plan to be here more than a month, so we paid for 90 days (much less expensive than two individual months). The total was 2,515 kuna (Croatian unit of currency) or about 350€. (You don’t need exit papers from your previous country, which we learned before we left Brindisi, so we skipped that part.) Marinas are very expensive here, but there are lots of places to anchor. Various villages may also charge to land your dinghy, and not all anchorages are free, so all in all, this isn’t a bargain cruising ground. So far, we like it anyway.

While I was running our paperwork, Linda from Islay Mist sent a text that they were anchored in Tiha cove by Cavtat, a cute little resort town just a few miles south of Dubrovnik. No one had asked them for money for anchoring or landing the dinghy, so we decided to join them. We enjoyed hanging out there until that gale blew through. It was pretty hot, and everyone did quite a bit of swimming.

After the gale blew Islay Mist out of the anchorage at Cavtat, we decided to follow them the next day. It’s noticeably cooler here where we’re anchored in the river near the ACI Dubrovnik Marina, and we’ve been enjoying the breeze on the boat.

We did take the bus into the old city of Dubrovnik and walked the city walls one morning. It really is a beautiful place, but I’d recommend a visit in the spring or fall. The summers here are hot, and the heat gets trapped between the buildings. Inside the walls, there’s very little breeze. After visiting a few museums and churches and having lunch at a little place that was recommended to us by Craig and Katherine of Sangaris, we escaped back to the boat and the cooler air.

We’ve been hanging out here ever since, doing some chores and trying to make some repairs. There are two small chandlers at the marina, but neither has the small rivets we need to repair the snaps on the dodger. Tomorrow maybe we’ll do a major provisioning run, get fuel and water and move on to the islands and north. We’ll stop here again on our way south. We want to visit the old city again and do our check-out at Gruž.

Here are some photos from our tour of the old city.

Classic view of a fort and wall

New and pre-war roof tiles

Great weather for drying clothes (note the bullet holes around the window)

Onofrio's fountain

Fort at the highest point on the wall

By the way, we’ve just posted more photos on the website from Cartagena and Italy.

Staying Put in a Gale

The forecast this morning included a gale warning for scattered thunderstorms. We had seen thunder clouds form and disperse in the distance the last couple of days. Today was our turn for one of those little cells of wind. The first indication was building thunderheads in the distance followed by the rolling boom of thunder.

Early this afternoon the wind starting picking up and stretched our anchor chain for the first time since set the anchor alarm in this bay. The alarm sounded indicating that we had moved the length of the chain. We weren't dragging, just finding a new stable configuration. Looking through the binoculars out into the wider bay, I could see white caps and an approaching strong wind. I took down one of our wind scoops, and we secured some stuff in the cockpit.

Linda on Islay Mist looking epic as she clears the weeds from the anchor

Then the big wind hit and moved us sideways with such force that there were little whirlpools trailing the windward side of our bow. I looked around and saw that everyone in the anchorage was now on deck except for the American catamaran Liahona. As the wind increased boat after boat started to drag anchor. We turned on our instruments and secured the remaining wind scope in anticipation of our eventual eviction from the anchorage.

Another boat pulling up the anchor

Islay Mist pulled anchor and motored out of the anchorage followed by all the boats except for Flying Winds (British ketch), us, and Liahona. It became obvious that no one was aboard Liahona as it came to rest on the rocky shore of the bay. The wind was now gusting to 35 knots, and Solstice and Flying Winds held their ground. Looking back out of the bay, a small craft that had been selling produce was struggling to get back to the harbor at the head of our anchorage.

Produce vendor struggles with his beam to the wind

Rain started to fall forcing us to close our hatches. When the rain was done, the police had brought the skipper of Liahona to his boat. He stepped on board, started the engines, and motored off. From that point on, the wind backed and diminished. As the wind died, some boats started to return. Islay Mist hailed us and informed us that they were going to move to a river anchorage close to Dubrovnik. We'll catch up with them later.

Liahona pushed up against the shore

Islay Mist in the outer bay heading for Dubrovnik

As for now the wind is light, and the anchorage has much more room.

Leaving Italy

Sitting here at the dock in Brindisi Marina, I realize now that it’s been a long time since we’ve had shore power. I have a lot of catching up to do in documenting our latest travels in Italy, and I’d better get it done because we’re leaving tomorrow for Croatia.

Our last day in the Aeolian Islands started with John hoisting me up the mast at dawn so that I could reattach our radar reflector. While I was making the trip up, I also wiped the dirt and salt spray off the shrouds on the starboard side, a cleaning job that is rarely done on our boat since we try to avoid needing to go up the mast. That chore completed, we slipped quietly away from the dock and headed for the Messina Strait to see Scilla and Charybdis.

Swordfish fishing boat outside the strait
They steer from the top while looking for sleeping swordfish to harpoon from the very long bowsprit.

The Messina Strait is one of the very few places in the Mediterranean where tides affect you. Cut off from the Atlantic tides by the Strait of Gibraltar, the Med only has about a foot of difference between high and low tide, and then only at springs. (Non-sailors, please forgive me for not explaining this. You can look it up on the Internet if you really want to know.) We were lucky that the tides were timed just right to give us a southbound current through the strait starting around midday. We needed all morning to get there. Our timing was perfect, and since it was close to spring tide, we were able to take advantage of a favorable current that reached close to four knots at one point. We were very pleased to see 8.5 knots (almost 10 mph or 16 km/hour) speed over ground before there was even enough wind to bring out the jib. Slow to most people, but quite fast to us.

But we went even faster than this

Even with the burst of speed through the strait, it was after sundown by the time we reached our anchorage below Taormina. (I say below because the town itself is way up the cliff.) As we approached, a British guy in a dinghy came out to offer us a buoy in his private mooring field for just 50€/night. We laughed and said we preferred to anchor. The anchorage wasn’t crowded and we were able to find a good spot close to shore. The next day we discovered that our timing was fortunate for anchoring too because as the day progressed more and more local boats anchored around us to play in the water. It would have been very difficult to find a spot with so many boats there.

Rare sighting of Mt. Etna from Taormina anchorage

At Taormina, I finally got into the Med—and promptly got back out. It seemed pretty cold to me. I had been tempted a few other times, but spotted jellyfish before I could take the plunge. John had to go in the water between Salina and Panarea islands in the Aeolians in order to cut away an old fishing net that we managed to snag, and he went swimming at Taormina too. He toughed it out much longer than I did and actually did a little barnacle removal on the bottom of the boat.

We also took the dinghy ashore in search of more minutes for our USB modem. The tobacconist at our first stop didn’t sell cell phone minutes and sent us on to Naxos. Naxos is a resort town at the south end of the bay. We weren’t favorably impressed with the town, but were finally able to find a tobacconist shop to sell us more time.

As we left the anchorage at dawn the next day, we had a good look at Taormina up on the cliff. It looks like a very pretty place, and I saw it called the “Garden of Eden” of Sicily on an Internet site somewhere. Maybe we’ll visit it on our way back west.

We made good time on our passage to Roccella Ionica and even managed to sail without the engine for an hour or so. In this part of Italy we’ve been using notes given to us by other cruisers, as well as the Italian Waters Pilot, so we had a very good idea what to expect at Roccella: the harbor entrance has a sandbar extending off the jetty. We missed the sandbar and found several British boats tied at the docks. We thought there was room for us next to Sallywag, but they waved us off and sent us to a finger on the other side where they wished us a happy 4th of July and helped us tie up. Then they invited us to their cockpit for sundowners, but we declined because we’d been up so early. I did meet Islay Mist’s friends Marie and Brian on Enjah, though, and it seemed that all of the U.K.-flagged boats knew Ali and Linda on Islay Mist.

Roccella was a good stop. It’s a treat not to have to Med-moor (although we’ve gotten pretty good at it), and we even had 4th of July fireworks because the town was having some sort of festival, no doubt religious, but still a good enough reason for some loud bangs and lights in the sky. Märzen has gotten so deaf that the fireworks no longer bother her. We went out for the mandatory pizza, which they sell by the half meter in the restaurant at the marina. (We’ve been asked more than once now if we had the pizza there.) And I did laundry at the campgrounds, which were a long, dusty walk around the marina’s perimeter security fencing, but a good value with two washing machines at only 3€ a load.

From Roccella we decided to skip stops in the Bay of Taranto and head straight for Otranto. That meant an overnight passage, which was quite nice because we had good wind and could sail without the engine for seven whole hours. Then we got wind on the nose for the last bit and found the anchorage was negatively impacted the northerly wind and waves when we arrived.

The pontoons at Otranto all looked full to us, so we dared to tie up alongside at the concrete pier. A couple of hours later, a guy from the coast guard asked us to move because we were in a place for fishing boats. By then we had helped an Austrian boat tie up behind us, and they had to move too, but first we both had to sign in with the coast guard. The coasty told us where we could tie up further out temporarily until a place became available at the transient dock, and we went to do our paperwork.

The Austrian boat did their check-in before us, and when we came out of the office, we found that they had taken the middle of the area we were supposed to go to, leaving no room for us. I nicely asked if they would please move to make room for us, and the man didn’t want to. When I insisted, he made a snide comment to his wife about bossy, pushy Americans (in German) and seemed quite taken aback when I told him I felt the same way about inconsiderate Austrians (also in German). It’s the first hassle we’ve had with other sailors, and I felt bad about it, but he did move.

Gales out of the north kept us in Otranto for three nights, and although it’s a nice little town with some history, we didn’t have a good time there. The first day I didn’t feel comfortable leaving the boat unattended because it was blowing a gale and we were still at the commercial pier because, of course, no one was leaving the dock. We noticed the chafing on our dock lines right away and added chafe protection, but had to keep adding more as the sacrificial chafe protection was eaten away by the rough concrete. Soon we also noticed that the wind was blowing dirt and grit right onto our boat and even through the screens to the inside. I was constantly sweeping dirt off the floor and started wearing shoes even inside to keep my feet clean in the losing battle.

Chafe protection used to be my Monterey Aquarium whale t-shirt, but it had already gone to the rag bag before its ultimate destruction here.

The second afternoon some guys on the pier asked us to move so that a fishing boat could come in and offload their catch. By then the Austrian (saying he didn't care about weather forecasts because he was going south) had been replaced by a little Italian sailboat, and they were also asked to move. I said that the coast guard had told us we could be there and that we couldn’t move anyway with the wind. An hour or so later a coast guard officer asked us to raft up with the big steel schooner behind us. When we protested, he enlisted the aid of the nice woman on the schooner, who spoke very good English, and we explained that we don’t have enough power to be docking in a gale; it just isn't safe. She explained it to him, and we ended up adjusting our lines to move back a meter while the Italian boat rafted with us until they decided they could squeeze into a little spot on the transient dock.

Glamorous commercial pier at Otranto

Our new spot was even worse for chafing, and we now need two new dock lines. By later that evening, three fishing boats were rafted in front of us, and they were still there in the morning. Later they moved to raft up with three other fishing boats, but no one left the harbor that day, including the freighter that had been loaded the day before. More boats did come in, though, sailboats heading south. We spent that night with two boats rafted to us, two rafted to the schooner behind us, and three rafted in front of us.

The one good thing that happened in Otranto was that we met Steven and Fiona, a British couple on the Nauticat ketch Kadore. I’d talked with Steven at the grocery store, where I learned that he didn’t have an easy way to get weather forecasts, but he did have an Adriatic pilot book, which we didn’t. He offered to let us look at his pilot, and I said we’d be happy to share weather information. We didn’t get together that evening because of the maneuvers to accommodate the fishing boats, but we did find Steven and Fiona at home on our way back from shopping the next day and delivered notes that I’d made on the weather forecast. The four of us hit it off, and they gave us a little cruising guide for Croatia that had been given to them and invited us for dinner. They’re waiting for their new boat registration (the coast guard at Otranto is very picky), but we hope we’ll see them again in Croatia.

We finally left Otranto on Saturday morning after getting our constituto back from the coast guard. A constituto is a sort of log that we were told we needed when we were in Cagliari, Sardinia. You’re supposed to have the coast guard sign it wherever you stop, but we haven’t done that since none of the other cruisers we’ve talked with have even heard of the darned thing, and the dock attendant in Arbitax advised us to let the coast guard come to us rather than going to them. The coast guard officer was very impressed when we offered him our constituto, and we think he told another officer that we were the first to have one. But he said he had to hang on to ours until we were ready to leave, so that was just one extra bit of hassle leaving Otranto.

The relatively short trip to Brindisi from Otranto was miserable with both wind and current against us. It took us more than 14 hours, and we only averaged 3 knots. It was almost midnight when we finally arrived, so we anchored outside the Brindisi Marina instead of trying to get a place at the dock. We planned to move to the local yacht club dock by downtown in the morning, but then we discovered that Islay Mist was still here. The wind that kept us in Otranto also kept them here, and yesterday morning we got a place right across the dock from them. They’re off for Croatia now, but we’re going to stay in touch, and I’m sure we’ll see them again.

We spent our first day at the dock scrubbing the boat. We’re staying another night here because we want to clear out of the EU officially and get our new-in-Madrid passports stamped. We also have to turn in our constituto before we leave Italy, so we’ll be putting the dinghy in the water soon to run into town. The marina here isn’t close to town, so it’s easier to take the dinghy.

Stromboli, Vulcano, and Lipari

Anchoring at Stromboli turned out to be an adventure in its own right. By the time it got shallow enough for us to drop the anchor, we were practically on the beach, and the little bits of ledge that showed on the chart were already occupied. We went further north to check out another possible anchorage, but the wind was really whipping around the island and through the anchorage there. Eventually we dropped the hook about a boat length from shore after the day-tripper boats left. Then we watched our track nervously for a couple of hours before we relaxed enough to have dinner, showers, and a nap.

Anchored close to the beach

A little after midnight we weighed anchor and headed on around to the northern and northwestern side of the island where the volcano is active. We passed quite a few boats at anchor and were surprised that we seemed to be the only ones doing the night sail. Just as we reached our northernmost waypoint, we saw an orange glow at the top of the mountain. That was promising, and we slowed to allow maximum viewing time. With swell on our beam, we didn’t want to stop altogether. Finally, just before we reached our last waypoint, the volcano spit a tall plume of lava into the air, and John said he could hear the eruption. We watched as the lava fell down the mountainside with hot orange spots bouncing here and there. Satisfied, we upped the revs and headed for Panarea to anchor and get some sleep.

Stromboli in daylight

It was just getting light as we reached the anchorage at Panarea, and we were glad of that because it helped us spot and avoid the mooring buoys that are sprinkled liberally in the best places to anchor. After a few hours rest, we continued on to Lipari, but didn’t like the look of the anchorages and decided to go on to Vulcano.

As we nosed around the crowded eastside anchorage at Vulcano, we were getting a little discouraged. Every place here is deep and crowded. Our first two islands were also deep, but they were the exception in that we had our anchorages to ourselves. We finally found 30 feet to drop the anchor between some other boats. Later a 50-foot Italian boat thought that there was room for him to anchor over our anchor. They were way too close, so I went to the bow to make them nervous. First they drifted to within a half a boat length on one side of us. Then as they were drifting to the other side of us, they passed so close that I could have passed a beer from our bow to the woman at the helm. I signaled the man that they were too close and asked the woman if they had good insurance. I’m sure she didn’t understand me, but they did move. Whew!

When we went ashore the next day, we rented a car to tour the island. It had been our intent to drive to the foot of the volcano and then walk to the rim. Luigi at the car rental recommended that we wait until late afternoon for the volcano walk, though, for better photo opportunities. It would also give us some shade. Good idea, even though it meant we would stay an extra night at the anchorage.

Vulcano is a small island made up of three volcanoes. Of these, the active one is the smallest. So the views on our car tour were pretty incredible as we went over the higher peaks. From the south side of the island we could see the main island of Sicily and even a hazy outline of Mt. Etna before the evaporation from the sea obscured it completely. The roads on the island are lined with flowers, like Flores in the Azores, but here the flowers are mostly oleanders rather than hydrangeas. It was a very pretty ride.

Back in town we checked out the mud bathes. John had been interested in trying them, but they never appealed to me, and he decided against it too. So we picked up some groceries and headed back to the boat and spent a relaxing afternoon rocked by the wakes of the constant ferry traffic.

Mud bath

I have no idea how far the volcano walk is, but it was hot, even with the sun behind a cloud most of the way, and steep in parts, and where the path was gravel, I got lots of rocks in my shoes. It took about an hour from the bottom (where they charge 3€ each) to the top. Along the way, some British people assured us that it was worth it, and I vaguely remembered walking to the top of Mt. Lassen in California as a kid, only to be disappointed. (It was probably spectacular, but I was a kid.) Well, this one was worth it, primarily for the views, since I’m not very fond of plumes of toxic gas. The walk back down went faster, and I was rewarded with pizza. (Our friends from the Shetland Islands rewarded their little girls with ice cream.)

Caldera on Vulcano

View from the top of Bocche di Vulcano and western Vulcano anchorage

Rock removal

Mandatory volcano tourism complete, we are now docked in Lipari, where the wash from ferries is still jerking us around during daylight hours. Oil change and some laundry done, today we’ll do some serious provisioning and visit the local museum, wash the boat, and fill the water tanks. Tomorrow we head through the Strait of Messina, home of Scilla and Charybdis.

Later: When we got back from the archeological museum, we had new neighbors at the dock. Germans on one side and French on the other. As I was filling tanks and talking with the Germans, a big wake made its way past the dock, knocking one German down and causing the French boat’s spreaders to hit our rigging, dislodging our radar reflector. It seems I’ll be going up the mast to fix it when the ferry traffic dies down. Meanwhile, the French boat has moved. Looking forward to a nice quiet anchorage tomorrow night.

Cefalù and our first Aeolian Islands

Cefalù is delightful. From the water you see all the resorts around it, but when you walk into the old town, most of the new development is hidden from view by the narrow streets. The buildings are stone, but the wooden shutters, doors and window frames are painted in bright colors. As we were walking down one little street we came upon a green grocer with a truck full of produce hawking his wares. Although we couldn’t understand a word, it was clear that the woman two stories up was negotiating with him from her balcony.

Old Cefalù with Norman cathedral

John found a barber in Cefalù who had time to cut his hair—his first haircut since Boulogne-sur-Mer, France, last summer. (He’s collecting exotic locations for his annual haircuts: Amsterdam, France, Sicily.) While he was doing that, I poked my head into some shops and found a Sicilian flag to run up under our Italian courtesy flag. We like to fly the regional flag in addition to the national one, especially when it’s an interesting one.

Sicilian flag

Next we went in search of a restaurant serving pasta con le sarde, a traditional Sicilian dish recommended to us by Andy on Spectacle. Palermo is where it’s really famous, but they do make it in Cefalù too. It’s pasta with sardines and fennel and raisins. We settled on a restaurant across the street from the beach, and I picked a pizza for a second plate. John liked the pasta con le sarde more than I did. There wasn’t enough sardine for me and a little too much fennel. What they called raisins weren’t like what we call raisins; I’m not sure what it was. The pizza was really good, though. It had sausage on it that turned out to be similar to what we call sweet Italian sausage.

We’ve been taking advantage of the settled weather and taking our time in the Aeolian Islands. Our first anchorage was at Isola Alicudi, the western-most island. There didn’t seem to be much going on there, and we didn’t go ashore. Yet, the ferries go there often, so there must be something.

Isola Alicudi

No cars allowed on Alicudi

As I write this, we’re anchored off the southwestern side of Isola Salina by the village of Rinella. We did put the dinghy in the water and go ashore to wander around and stop for a beer. There was a store selling beautiful ceramics. If I weren’t on a boat, I don’t think I could resist the temptation. Those bright primary colors really call to me.

Sunset from our anchorage at Salina

Mobile produce vendor at Salina

In a bit we’ll be putting the dinghy back on deck and heading to Stromboli. Stromboli has an active volcano, and the thing to do is to sail around it at night so that you can see the lava flows. When we get there, we’ll anchor until dark. After we see the volcano, we’ll just head back to Lipari, which is the next island over from where we are now. Lipari is the biggest of the islands and the most developed. We’ll do some provisioning there and then go to Vulcano, just south of Lipari to do the mandatory walk to the top of the crater.

We have changed our sailing plans again. From the Strait of Messina, we’ll turn left instead of continuing on around Sicily. A former colleague and fellow sailor, originally from Croatia, is returning there for a couple of months, and we’re going to meet up with him. There’s nothing like local knowledge to make cruising really special, so we’re looking forward to a couple of months in the Adriatic. Our friends on Islay Mist headed that direction already, and we hope to catch up with them too.

Sicily so far

We left Ponza a week ago and have been mostly on the boat ever since. Yesterday we did go ashore at San Nicolo L’Arena—twice. The first time was to go shopping, and the second time was primarily because I wanted to get off the boat again although we bought a few more provisions too: wine and biscotti. We didn’t explore beyond the main street of the little town, and although we would have liked to go into Palermo, we decided against it because it would have meant another night in the marina.

It cost us 60€/night to moor, which included water, electricity and trash, but the restrooms and showers were locked, and we weren’t too impressed with the young guys running the place. As far as we could tell, we were the only visitors. The cruising guide says they have 45 guests slips, but I suspect they only have the one we were in. A sailboat with a courtesy flag was tied up on one side of the fuel dock, but it seemed to be a long-term situation because a power boat was rafted on the outside of it. When we first arrived on Sunday, a couple of days earlier, the place was totally packed, so we spent two windy nights anchored outside.

That makes our current anchorage our third in Sicily, all on the north coast. Our first was outside Castellammere del Golfo. We picked Castellammere as our first stop when we learned that the free mooring buoys at Trapani had been condemned. That is, the coast guard won’t let you stay there because they haven’t been inspected or maintained in six years. Maybe they would let you stay in calm weather, but big winds were in the forecast, and Trapani is windier than most places because it gets cape-effect winds. Better to find somewhere a bit more sheltered. Castellammere seemed to fit the bill as long as the winds were from the west, and it has a Greek ruin nearby that we thought we’d like to see.

Castellammare with old town wall in foreground

The beach we anchored off of at Castellammare

Unfortunately, although the wind was from the west, the swell was from the northwest. The cruising guide shows an anchorage inside the breakwater, but construction on the breakwater has that one off limits. Our anchorage well away from the protection of the jetty was pretty rolly. A couple of different boats came out from the marina as we arrived offering us a berth at 30€/night. (Wait, make that 25, but it’s the least possible.) In retrospect, we should have taken them up on it. I doubt we’ll see those rates again in the Med. We stayed for two nights, but didn’t go ashore because it would have been too hard to launch and retrieve the dinghy in the swell and chop. Then took advantage of a break in the gale warnings to move on to San Nicolo, where we planned to go into the marina, but as I mentioned earlier, it was full.

We did have a chance to sail using both sails and with the motor off for a couple of hours on our way to San Nicolo. That was pretty nice, and it was the first time that has happened for us in the Mediterranean.

Now we’re anchored at Cefalù. Several cruisers have told us this was their favorite anchorage in Sicily, and it is pretty nice. We’re sheltered from the worst of the swell by the harbor’s breakwater, and it’s very pretty. We plan to spend at least two nights here so that we can go into town, which boasts a twelfth century Norman cathedral. Otherwise, this is mostly a pretty resort.

Norman cathedral visible on our approach to Cefalù

Ruin atop a rock off our stern at Cefalù

From here we plan to head to the Aeolian Islands, a string of volcanic islands between Sicily and the mainland. The archipelago includes several active volcanoes, and our friends on Islay Mist say we shouldn’t miss out on the walk to the crater on Isola Vulcano. A night sail around Stromboli to see the lava flows is also mandatory, so we have a lot to see before we transit the Strait of Messina to get to the east side of Sicily.

Ponza anchor dance

The Pontine Islands lie close off the west coast of Italy between Rome and Naples off Cape Circeo (named for Circe of Odyssey fame), and Ponza is the largest of these islands. I don’t think I’d ever even heard of it or them before, but Ponza looked like a good overnight stop between Rome and Sicily. Then an old friend (reconnected via Facebook) recommended several restaurants on Ponza, and other people started saying how great it was, so we decided to linger.

Our first anchorage was on the west side (sort of the back) of the island. When we started from Rome, the winds would have made this a great anchorage, and it was very pretty and impressive. But the winds shifted bringing swell into the anchorage soon after we dropped the hook. A guy in a Hallberg Rassey with a French flag was already moving around the anchorage, whether he was having problems getting it to set or was looking for a more comfortable spot, we don’t know, but it was a little annoying. Then two or three boats left. It was a little bumpy, but we were facing into the swell, so it was bearable if somewhat unpleasant. When we awoke the next morning, the Frenchman was gone, and so were most of the other boats. As Märzen and I did our morning routine, we watched more boats leave until when John joined us, we were the last boat but one, and it was getting ready to leave. Good idea.

We went around to the other side of the island, the side facing Italy, and found beautiful, flat water. Great! Rounding the point to our intended anchorage, we saw a commercial vessel filling the cove. Seriously. Its anchor was down, and it had multiple lines to shore. Oh well, the cruising guide said there were many possible anchorages on the east side of the island in settle weather, which we had, so we found a pretty one and dropped the hook.

It was really beautiful, and lots of Italians were out enjoying the beach and the weather, plus two British-flagged super yachts were anchored a bit off shore. Both super yachts had all their toys in the water, and one was even pulling a water skier with one of its tenders. John made a long-deferred minor repair to the dinghy, we put it in the water, and we piled in (even Märzen) to go exploring.

That was a really fun ride in our go-fast little boat. First, we checked out a passage at the tip of the island that we had watched a local sailboat negotiate while our chart said it had two rocks awash in the middle. One rock was sometimes visible, but the other was well hidden, and we admired the daring of that boat to attempt it. It wasn’t much farther to go around. The rock formations on this island are impressive, and we took the dinghy through a natural arch and a couple of narrow passages, just because we could. We also found tunnels in the rock near town and checked those out. Later we learned that they were part of the Roman water system to get water from the other side of the island (by our first anchorage) and redistribute it.

Rock arch that we took the dinghy through

Finally, we checked out the harbor at the town of Ponza to see where we could leave a dinghy to go ashore later. Nothing was obvious, so I decided we should ask one of the boats that was anchored in the harbor. None were obviously English-speak, but there was an Austrian boat, and I figured I could try German if they didn’t speak English. They didn’t, and I managed in German, but I didn’t really like the answer. Then we spotted a Dutch boat anchoring. Well, they didn’t know about the dinghy, but they said that winds were expected from the southeast, so we should probably come in because it would be more comfortable in the harbor.

OK. We did that, and it was very nice and very pretty—the first night. We took the dinghy ashore yesterday to find the restaurants we’d been told about and make reservations for dinner. We spotted all three, but only one was open to take our reservation. The family we had rescued the other day told us Acqua Pazza was the best, it was the one open, so that made our choice easy.

First night in Ponza harbor (lights are for a religious festival)

As we approached the dinghy where we’d left it locked, we saw some guys doing something to it. They put a big chain and lock on it! It turns out that it’s a private dock (not shown in the guide). They said we could leave the dinghy there for free if we only tied it so that they could move it as needed. Since we had locked it, that would be 20€ for an hour. John did a fine job of negotiating by saying 10€ and not budging. With yelling and expressions of disgust we escape our learning experience for 10€.

When we came back in the evening to go to dinner, a different guy was at that dock. First, it sounded like he wanted to charge us by the meter. (All of the discourse at this dock is in Italian with only a word or two of English on their side and the reverse on ours.) Then he said, no problem, just for dinner? Just give him a tip. How much we asked? No problem, he indicated, just some cigarettes. Big problem: we don’t have cigarettes. Go away then, he said and gestured. We looked around by the fishing boats where the Austrians and the earlier guy had said we could tie up, but there was no way to get the dinghy between the boats to tie up. They were really packed in there. I suppose we could have rafted to a fishing boat, but they’re all Med-moored end to end, and we can’t see how they even get off the boats, much less how we could. Finally we saw a dinghy leave a spot next to the first dock, so we went in there under constant surveillance from the dock guy, but he didn’t protest. That area seems to belong to the Winspeare Concert Café across the street, but they didn’t chase us off. Just to be safe, we went in and had a drink. It was a friendly place with reasonable prices, and I think we’ll go back tonight.

Fishing boat area of the harbor

Dinner at Acqua Pazza was very nice. Thanks, Mom! We learned at the music café that it’s very posh and during the high season royalty goes there. We had their tasting menu, which was quite unusual in that every course featured fish, except dessert, of course. I especially liked the swordfish tartar and tuna tartar. Not ocean friendly, but definitely local fish. The servings were quite large for a tasting menu, and we were stuffed by the time we left.

As we approached Solstice, we thought she was much closer to the Italian neighbor than she had been. They were all out in the cockpit looking, so we motored up. They asked if our anchor had moved, and we said no since they were in front of us, and if we had drug, there would be more distance between us, not less. Looking around we noticed that most boats had people on deck and that the wind was starting to pick up from the opposite direction of where it had been before.

Great. So much for the after dinner glow. We spent the next few hours watching boats drag and re-anchor and keeping a close watch in case we started to drag. Finally we did drag a little, but it was OK until it happened again. Then we leapt into action, got the anchor up, and started looking for another place to drop it. By then the wind was maintaining 20 knots and gusting into the 30s from the southwest. We decided our original anchorage on this side of the island would be sheltered, and it would be good not to have to worry about other boats dragging down on us.

I think that it’s scary moving at night, but we have instruments and radar, so we dodged some big boats and a poorly lit fish farm and made it back to our old anchorage, where the wind changed direction again making it a lee shore. And exposing it to wakes and swell. John let out all the chain in 14 feet of water over sand and stayed up until things settled down. He came to bed about 3 o’clock, and he can sleep until noon if he wants. Then we’ll talk about going back to the harbor because we want to go back to that café with the dinghy tie-up and maybe even check out another of the restaurants.

Solstice (in the distance with orange fender balls) in Ponza harbor

Since I’m posting this from our anchorage in Sicily near Castellamare, I can add that we did go back into the Ponza harbor so that we could return to the Winspeare Concert Café and also try another restaurant. We had excellent Spritzes and antipasto at the café and highly recommend it. The restaurant was OK, but we were the only customers, and the family that runs it watched our every move, so that was a bit weird.

Spritzes and antipasto at Winspeare Concert Café