A little last ray of sunshine

From Milazzo the forecast promised a slight abatement in the weather front, but still a following wind, albeit one that still had some teeth. The spinnaker plan was vetoed by key stakeholders in the blustery 30kt +  levanter, but the poled out genoa plan slipped in under the radar. Alas, the following 2m sea conspired with the near gale to defeat the autopilot, and a broach put the wind afore the beam, destroying both the spinnaker pole and the captain's credibility in one fell swoop.

After lashing the broken pole to the mast we continued on and rounded Cape Peloro, sailing into the dreaded Straights of Messina, in the wake of Odysseus 3000 years ago:

"And all this time, in travail, sobbing, gaining on the current, we rowed into the strait - Skylla to port and on our starbord beam Kharibdis, dire gorge of the salt sea tide. By Heaven! when she vomited, all the sea was like a cauldron seething over intense fire, when the mixture suddenly heaves and rises." Homer - The Odyssey.

We also had some crazy currents, gusts, and odd wind effects: it was all a bit exciting , but perhaps a tad tamer from the stable cockpit of Familia than it was for Odysseus. With the sails down, the wind bullets and cross currents had only a limited effect: the donk chugged away reassuringly to take us down the straight.

We opted for an industrial overnighting in Reggio Di Calabria on the eastern shore - famous mainly as a fertile mafia recruitment ground. The morning swim was much more nipply than expected as there must be a solid 2 degree differential between the Tyrrhenian and the Straits proper. A long motor the next day brought us to Acitrezza where we spent two days waiting out a southerly storm on the town quay. The jagged basalt spires outside the port entry once again provided a link to Odysseus; Homer tells us they were hurled after him by the blinded Cyclops, Polyphemus.

Fort Costello, Syracusa

Once the weather eased we headed to charming Syracusa, the last major town on the east coast. What a great entry to a great town: rounding the old fort on the north headland you enter a great natural harbour, with the old town fully resplendent. The marina is right on the edge of the old town and only 3 minutes walk from the markets held every day from 7 to 1.  The produce was even more outrageously fresh and inviting than the rest of Italy: marinated olives for $5/kg, impossibly glossy ripe truss tomatoes for $1.50/kg, crusty Italian bread to die for only $1 per loaf. So when the southerly weather pattern continued to indicate a rough trip to Malta, a few extra (warm) days were welcomed. The Fort and the local Greek and Roman theatres are spectacular and amongst the best preserved in the world. A chilly excursion to the so called Grand Canyon was fun, as was partaking of the local vino rossi, Nero D'Avola.

Daily Markets, Syracusa- marinated olives to die for....

Finally a break in the weather allowed a short motor to Portopalo, an anchor, and an early departure for Malta. At least it would have been if my dodgy bowline hadnt let the stern anchor go just as I was about to grab the chain at 5.30AM. The dark, icy pre-dawn swim with waterproof torch in hand was nothing less than I deserved:  I was improbably lucky to spot the end of the chain in 6 m of murky water on what I had decided was my last futile dive.  Dolphins in the dawn on the way to Malta were subsequently another lucky find.

The taste buds had reservations as we headed for Malta but what a landfall: The ochre walls of Forts St Elmo and St Angelo vie for attention as you approach Valletta. Once between them and into the aptly named Grand Harbour the buildings ooze history from all sides. Is it still possible to take vows in the Order of the Knights of St John?

The Grand Harbour Marina....indeed.

We have taken a full month's berth in the Grand Harbour Marina: possibly the most stunning location we have yet had the good fortune to experience. Even the screams and tantrums of our unbelievably recalcitrant children somehow seem more grand as they echo off the historic sandstone walls of the nearby forts and cathedrals.



Swimmer in the blue lagoon

 The climate here is more African than Mediterranean, so after a couple of days we took advantage of what was probably the last weather window for an anchor out in the so-called Blue Lagoon. After an evening anchored in the 25kt storm the morning dawned sunny and gentle: a great day of swimming and sun was had by all- probably the last one until spring though.

Blue lagoon in winter - all to ourselves

An ageing, grey haired man enjoys a rare post prandial nap
on board whilst cradling his burgeoning paunch

In the meantime we have been trying to get some fitness going. I have located a boxing gym, so last week I took the boys along and strapped on the gloves after a 2 year hiatus. The acute muscular pain is only just receding: not helped by a punchy 11 year old who now sees himself as the new Rocky (or in fact Mundine if his aptitude for verbosity and confrontation is any indication.)



The Maltese claim to be the earliest Christians, the island having been coverted by a shipwrecked St Paul in AD50. Home made fireworks and timber statues of saints were the features of the feast of our Lady of the Immaculate Conception last Wednesday. Christmas in this tiny traditional nation is therefore the plan, before abandoning our ship and heading landward for a few months in greater Europe. Spain following a skiing session is the idea at the moment: plans are always mutable though so we shall see.


Ciao


A gory statue somehow related to our lady of the immaculate conception...
Did that bloke threaten the Madonna's virtue perhaps?.....Hmm.