Sailing to Byzantium - 14

Decorative Majolica tiles from the Sunday flea market in Palermo

By Sunday 31^st of May we had convinced our Sicilian Engineer that enough was enough and that we were leaving the dock that afternoon. He pleaded “domani, domani” but quickly realised that we meant business as the bimini was being folded, and the final arrangements were taking place before heading to sea. He quickly remembered what he had planned for Monday and drilled some holes in a steal plate, finally completing a complex arrangement supporting the fridge compressor unit and the service batteries’ alternator.

We left the port passing the stricken car ferry which had still obvious signs of fire on board. We carried out final preparations while at anchor in a little bay to the north east of Palermo, and following a refreshing swim and lunch we set off once again shortly after 4 p.m. The main sail was hoisted and the fishing rods deployed, baited with lures larger than your average catch. Steering 83 degrees we motor sailed out of the bay with the hot sun on our backs. What little wind there was made working on deck a pleasure and Fenix gracefully met the rise of the oncoming waves. It did not take long for our eyes to become accustomed once again to the gentle curvature of the perfectly cut sapphire blue horizon separating the hemispherical dome of the sky from the diaphanous blue of the sea. Making our way down the coast the sea sprang to life with dolphins visiting us regularly, racing passed the quarters breathing as they went, jockeying for position under the bow, and leaping clear from the water.

Ian and Steve on deck motor sailing out of the Bay of Palermo on Sunday evening

My next watch began at midnight and we were just approaching the Aeolian islands. Our course would take us to the south of Volcano and Lipari leaving Stromboli well to the north. Given the constraints of time we were required to keep on moving. However, the dark night did have its moments of excitement and dismay. At times the water was thick with life and we moved through shoals of jellyfish lighting the water with phosphorescence. Down below there more sinister developments and possible early signs of a failing fridge compressor not helped by the bedding in of the engine, and the use of different belts driven around by an array of pulleys off the engine.

Working our way up to Capo Rasocolmo and the Straits of Messina

By 8 a.m. we were approaching Capo Rasocolmo and gradually the wind lifted allowing us a better angle of approach towards the Italian mainland passing Capo Peloro and the entrance to the Straits of Messsina. The Straits are just under two nautical miles wide in places and the wind funnels very quickly between the two mountainous landmasses; we were beating to windward in winds between 27 and 32 knots. Fully powered up with one reef in the main and reduced head sail we tacked our way through the shipping lanes of this busy marine thoroughfare. The waters of the Ionian and the Tyrrhenian Seas meet head on just off Messina causing the water to stand up as if you were passing through overfalls. The surface of the water is so unstable in places that whirlpools form but this does not appear to discourage the small fishing boats as the work these waters.

The port of Messina

A decision was made to pull in to Messina and source some belts for the engine but this proved fruitless. The town was shut down for lunch and would not reopen until after 4 p.m. I took the opportunity to walk up to the archaeological museum but discovered upon my arrival that it was shut. In fact the complicated opening hours appeared to ensure the doors would remain shut for the majority of the time. Behind the steal fencing I could see many graeco roman structures and architectural ornament bundled up and stored in chicken wire, undisturbed in the long grass. Disappointed but not surprised I returned to the boat. Messina has a tragic quality to it; in recent times it was destroyed by an earthquake and tidal waves in 1908 and suffered again towards the end of World War II. We left Messina and the Straits passing the Capo dell’Armi by 8 p.m.

Computer generated chart with weather overlay for Monday 1st June

June 2^nd started at midnight for me and as I came on deck we were rounding Calabria Reggio and passing the lighthouse of Capo Spartiventi. This would be our last sighting of land until we sight the islands of western Greece and its coastline. By 2 a.m. the lighthouse of Capo Spartiventi and the moon had sunk below the horizon behind us, and we were plunged into darkness. For the next two hours we peered into this impenetrable darkness assisted only by Venus and the Milky Way which divided the entire night sky. The wind varied greatly and came and went never achieving any strength and Fenix rolled in the swell of a distant wind.

Computer generated chart with weather overlay for Tuesday 2nd June 8 a.m.

By dawn the wind had built a little and the mainsail was beginning to set but intriguingly it did not build from the forecast direction and soon died away. Summer is having its effect on this part of the world and the big low pressure systems of Spring have faded away and no longer develop the ability to create wind we require. As noon approached everybody on deck, whether on watch or not was seeking the shaded shelter of the mainsail. With no land in sight we keep a watch for shipping, signs of fish, or signs of an increase in the wind. With between two and three thousand metres of water beneath us you might think this would be a barren and empty world but sightings of lonely turtles swimming and basking in the water are not infrequent. By 4 p.m. we were just about to lose faith with the wind and then it slowly built to 12 knots. Two hours later we had about 14 knots and the genoa was unfurled lifting our speed to just over 8 knots over the ground. Buoyed up by this confidence in the wind we set the asymmetric spinnaker just after 7 p.m. and Fenix is barrelling along at 8 knots towards Zakynthos in western Greece.

Fenix on a broad reaching away from the setting sun

By midnight the wind was decreasing but the sailing was still quite good and our speed was comparable to and sometimes better than what could be achieved under engine. By 2 a.m. the moon had dipped below the horizon but the night sky was kept bright by the constant flashing of an electric storm to the west our position. Gradually we could make out the flash sequence of the lighthouse on the southern side of Zakynthos and it became a good reference point to steer by in the weakening wind.