29th July - Favignana in the Egadi Islands, Sicily

High Point: Completing the 170 mile passage to the Egadi Islands from Sardinia. It’s the last long passage we have to do (unless we choose otherwise) to get to the eastern Med, and it means our goal of cruising this autumn in the Ionian is getting closer all the time. It also puts us within range of a convenient place to meet up with Catherine’s sister Fiona and the kids, who are flying out to Palermo to spend a week with us from 13th August.

Low Point: Leighton is on painkillers nursing a very swollen and bruised big toe on his left foot. Somehow on passage he whacked it, then injured it again by stubbing it hard on the companionway step. Instead of frozen peas, we’ve had to make do with a cold beer tin to try and reduce the swelling. He’s under orders to keep his feet up until it’s better, so we won’t be going any distance for a while.

In Cagliari we say an emotional farewell and good luck to Alan and Ann on Sula-Mac. It’s been great meeting like-minded liveaboards and we’ve enjoyed sailing in company with them for a while. They are leaving to sail to Palermo, then along the north coast of Sicily towards Messina. We’ve opted to sail along the south coast, which we hope will be a little less crowded. We’ve decided to do the long passage to Favignana, the largest of the Egadi Islands the next day – Saturday – when there’s forecast to be a bit more wind.

The Egadi islands lie just off the northwest corner of Sicily. Favignana at around 6 miles long is the largest of the four islands. Apart from the main peak Montagna Grossa at its centre, Favignana is low and cultivated, its trees and fields fed by freshwater springs. Ernle Bradford in ‘Odysseus Found’ argues that Favignana is the Goat island of Homer’s Odyssey, where Ulysses and his men fetched up on the voyage from the Land of the Lotus-Eaters in North Africa. Just across the water on the mainland of Sicily lies Trapani and – allegedly - the land of the Cyclops. Reading about it makes us curious to see the islands for ourselves.

When Saturday comes, the wind instruments show 30 knots over the deck in the marina, and you can imagine our reaction when we see the lifeboat tow into the harbour a British yacht with a shredded genoa and its mainsail spilled all over the coachroof. We delay our departure while the wind blows all that evening and well into the early hours. We leave at 0600 on Sunday morning in a NW4-5 and to begin with we romp downwind under the yankee. This is good we think, as the forecast has the wind staying this way for the next 12 hours. But just short of Cape Carbonara only 25 miles SE of Cagliari, the wind dies. No wind from any direction, just an uncomfortable leftover swell. From then on, it is a tedious passage of motoring all the way.
The only break from motoring comes when the engine conks out at 3am, mid-way across. Cathy unrolls the yankee and while the boat trickles along at 2.5 knots, Leighton opens up the engine compartment to look for the cause of the breakdown. He soon sees that the seal on the fuel filter has started leaking, allowing air into the fuel system. Fitting a new fuel filter on top of a hot engine in the dark is a sweaty, awkward job, but he manages and it does the trick. To give ourselves and the engine a rest, we sail along slowly but peacefully for the rest of the night, and at daybreak we hoist the mainsail as well. By mid morning, the wind has died again and we motor on. We sight the peak of Isla Marettimo by early afternoon, and are approaching our chosen anchorage in Cala Rotonda on Favignana by early evening. As we go in, an Italian charter yacht guns his engine to barge ahead of us and take the only good sandy spot in the middle of the bay. It takes us six attempts to get the bugel hooked through the thick weed that is growing everywhere else. We finally put out loads of chain and Leighton dives down to manhandle the anchor into a sandy trench on the bottom. What a palaver after a long passage.

In the past when things have gone wrong or been difficult, we tended to take it out on each other - which only made matters worse. We didn’t lose it with each other anchoring here in Cala Rotonda - despite being tired. We now try and make the best of what we’ve got instead. Getting this far has made us more confident in our own abilities, and each of us now has complete trust in what the other is capable of too. Life is better as a result.

We have a peaceful rest day in the cala, followed by a short walk ashore – Leighton managing to hobble along despite his sore foot. For a change of scene, we’ve moved to a little bay beside Marsala Point today. Crowds of holidaymakers are crammed into the small beach, and the anchorage is busy with dayboats and a handful of yachts. Judging by yesterday and today, the sea breeze here is a more benign affair than in Sardinia. The pilot speaks of 15 knots tops in the afternoon, which is what we’ve got. It will make a very welcome change if it stays that way.