Sicily
We left Bizerte, Tunisia at O-dark-hundred (0250), untying TEKA III from the dock and drifting out slowly so as not to awaken anyone left at the dock. As we made our way through the fishermen in small dinghies who shone flashlights at us as we approached, we lowered the stabilizer poles. These poles extend at a 45 degree angle from the boat and then with an additional 25 feet out from the boat on each side, we have in essence the equivalent of a balancing pole that a highwire walker would use. Often that in itself helps us have a smoother ride. But we anticipated very choppy, rolly seas and knew we would need our 50 lb weights (fish) dropped into the water. Attached by heavy rope to the poles, the fish rest in holders along the deck until Denis tosses them in. Then they go to work. When the boat starts to roll in one direction, the opposite fish dives down, allowing the boat to regain equilibrium. The two fish operate as a team as long as we leave them in and help us have a better ride. Once past the breakwater the sea showed her stuff and we were prepared.
We altered course once past the nearest island and stayed highly alert to plot ships in the major shipping lanes between Gibraltar and the Suez Canal and stay out of their way. They go fast and if their auto pilot is in control, perhaps a real person is doing something else. It’s up to us to stay safe. Our radar has a chip that allows us to plot course, speed and closest point of contact for approaching vessels. I like that feature.
The seas calmed down about one-third the way across our 127 nautical mile trip to Sicily and by the end of the long day (17 hours), it had really flatten. We anchored at Isola Levanzo in the Egadi Islands off the northwest coast of Sicily and went to bed. Nice anchorage and even wakes of many ferries and hydrofoils coming and going were not too bad. Two cruising buddies, Good Company and SeaScape, arrived the next day, having done that same trip as an overnighter.
Denis went beneath the boat the next morning to clear out a water intake, only to find we had collected a rope around the prop. Back up topside, he collected knife and pliers, even donned scuba gear, then returned to do the deed. I watched from the swim bridge and collected not only the pieces of rope that arose as he cut, but a pretty good size jellyfish that came to investigate the action.
After two nights there we upped anchor and went about 16 miles down to Marsala where we could get checked back into the European Community. When we went to Tunisia we got stamped in there and stamped out. Now we needed the Italian stamp to prove we re-arrived in E.U. In Marsala our efforts to locate customs and police on our own were unfruitful. Tied up at the only marina in town (with exorbitant fee) and they were to call the police to come to us. Well, the police didn’t come. So we went to the station. Everyone had gone home but the dispatcher, who told us to come back at 9 a.m.
We did that, only to struggle without much progress through the language barrier with the Frontera Policeman, who stood smoking right under a NO SMOKING sign. He said he had to wait for his buddy to come in and locate the key to unlock the passport stamp cupboard. Then the two of them would come to the boat. They did that, but an hour and half later than promised. Italian time, I guess. Sometimes it makes one scratch the head. We know what we have to do to be legal and when we try to do it, it’s like we are creating a problem and making work for them. But we persevere.
On to a small cala on Favignana Isola. Beautiful clear water and sand bottom--easy to anchor and feel secure--in an old quarry area. Next morning we headed to Sicily’s northwestern tip, San Vito lo Capo. This, a Friday, looked like Sunday. So many people on the beach or out in paddle boats (seating four on each side of a sliding board--quite unique) or scooting about on brightly colored wind surfing boards. All came quite close by to investigate the unusual profile of TEKA III. When Denis went in to shore and had his scuba tank filled at the dive shop, the lady there asked which boat was his. When he pointed to it, she exclaimed, “Oh, the George Clooney boat!” SeaScape and Good Company joined us at that anchorage and we were surprised to see another American flagged vessel come in that we did not know. Turned out to be a newly purchased, if not new in age, boat a man and son had purchased in Turkey and were taking back to Gibraltar. Novice at sailing and not enough equipment, nor weather savvy, we were surprised he had made it so far without hitches. Nevertheless we took him under our wing and gave him many bits of information to make his voyage westward more of a success. His wife had flown into Palermo to spend a few days to see what she thought. He laughed when he said she had given him “a hall pass” for a year to do some of his dream.
On to Castellamare del Golfo where we stayed on the hook 4 ˝ days. Rented a car for two days to see some of the countryside, including ruins and hilltop walled cities. Without much Italian or English to work with we managed to get it set. The paperwork was so simple--a single 81/2 x 11 piece of paper with passport information, cell phone number and make/year of car. Sign here. Cost 40 Euros a day (little less than $40).
To offset that experience we met a guy at the Esso station where we fueled up on way out of town. He asked, “Where are you from?” We told him, then asked him the same question. “New York.” Turns out he lives in Sicily, but had lived in New York; has relatives in California, Florida, New York and Sicily. When asked who makes the best pizza--New York or Sicily, he said, “Sicily, of course.”
The first morning while walking around town we came upon a park with a very stunning statue honoring the local boys who had immigrated to Nord America before WWI, fought and died for their new country. I felt the emotion of the people in the statue. Well done. Later we read in the Italian guidebook that over a million Sicilians immigrated between 1870 and 1910 to US and Canada.
In between shopping for fruits, veggies, bread, we had Internet time each day. But what I enjoyed a lot was looking the people in the eye and saying, “Buongiorno” or “buonsera” and they responded likewise, always with a nice smile. And two nights at anchor we witnessed a short fireworks show put on by the townspeople.
First day by car we headed to the 2500' high village of Erice, originally settled by ancient mountain people--the Elymians. It’s totally walled, cobbled streets with ruts where carts have traveled over the years, gates open offering glimpses into private courtyards, a large square with restaurants, 11 churches (one had a doll in a cradle arrangement representing Christ as an infant as their altar piece), and the ruins of the Castle of Venus, with panoramic views from top of the world. From there we just drove around working our way south, then back north to Castellamare.
Wine vineyards everywhere. Some drooping with weight of grape bunches. Some pickers in the fields, some trucks piled high ready to roll, and the smell of wine processing in the air left you with vivid images. Along with the vineyards were olive trees and sheep. Sometimes rounding a bend meant quick reflexes as sheep were about to or in the process of crossing. Many empty now plowed fields in the far distance--wheat crop already harvested?
Day two we drove east towards Palermo, stopping to visit the magnificent cathedral at Monreale, a 12th century church with huge mosaics along the walls and ceilings depicting stories from the Old and New Testament. These included God creating the world, Adam and Eve, Noah and the Ark, Jacob, the fishers of men, just to mention a few. And they were gorgeous. A mosaic of Christ with outstretched arms took over the entire front of the church. Sitting in a pew and just absorbing the beauty made the trip worthwhile.
From there we turned back west and wandered over to Segesta, another hilltop village founded by the mountain people. A giant Greek Temple remains. Much more is in process of being uncovered. After that we had a real treat. Stopping to take a photo of grapes ready to harvest, we asked the pickers if we could take their picture. SI! There were about two dozen of them, all family, smiling and laughing while their cutters snipped and snapped at the heavy grapes. One woman cut us a bunch to take with us. Her husband pulled a young girl (about 11 or so) from another row and offered her as the family poster girl for a photo with the American lady. Then they mentioned in Italian that this was the anniversary date of Sep. 11. We didn’t need a translation and it made me feel warm to hear their expressions.
Some of our images of driving and drivers in Sicily: they drive fast, even in villages with very narrow streets; employ “blow and go” strategies; park very uniquely--if a spot is almost available they just point the front end into the curb, sometimes up onto the curb with one wheel and that’s that--; open their doors without looking, and back up as needed to make their forward move.
Turned the car in unscathed, and planned to bus it into Palermo next day. However found out no bus at 10 (only at 7a.m. and 2p.m.). We met a friendly bus driver who took us to the train station and got us going that way. It took about 1 ˝ hours with train tracks running right along the coastline. In Palermo we had only a few places we wanted to visit other than just walking around, but were not in luck. An earthquake occurred several days prior and public buildings like the museum were closed while being checked for damage. In fact we saw many fire trucks with ladders extended and men out of the edge thumping around third floor areas on buildings--and wondered what that was all about. After we heard the news it all made sense. Returned by train and who should be waiting with his bus, but our new found friend. Nice to see him.
Only one other place called us in Sicily--Cefalu, a very pleasant town, again walled and on a hill. A large 12th century church dominated the skyline with its two towers and was supposedly built by Roger II after his fleet survived a horrible storm off the point there. On the other hand we read in another place this might have been a myth, the whole thing was military strategy to gain control of the land there and be able to defend it. Here we were able to purchase our tickets for returning to the States from a travel agent.
From Cefalu we went to the Aeolian Islands, anchoring at Vulcano, docking at Lipari, and anchoring at Stromboli after detouring to the northwest side to witness the eruption path still in working order. Instead of having large eruptions at intervals, Stromboli burps daily with ash and some lava. Seems to have perpetual indigestion.
Leaving the Aeolians we headed more or less straight to Gaeta (north of Napoli), the designated 2002 winter home for TEKA III.
