High Point: Travelling in company with Alan and Ann on Sula Mac. We met them in Mahon harbour, when we found we shared many of the same thoughts and concerns about when to make the passage to Sardinia. They also very kindly lent us the Italian Waters pilot for a while to make notes about places to visit. We’ve sailed together more or less since meeting up with them again in Sardinia, and it makes a nice change to travel in company, although they go quite a bit faster than we do!
Low Point: An anxious couple of days at anchor in Malfatano sitting out a northwesterly blow from the Gulf de Lion. For most of the time we have a steady 25 knots with the occasional 40 knot gust thrown in to keep us on our toes. Neither of us sleep much at night. During the day we aren’t keen to leave the boat to go ashore in case the anchor drags. We got soaked in the dinghy when we did. All we can do is try to relax and fill the time with a good book until it’s over….
On 13th July we motored the 5 miles from Portoscuso to Carloforte on Isla de San Pietro, watching the sea bottom pass beneath us in the shallows. We’re going there because the water at Portoscuso isn’t drinkable and our water tanks are running very low. Carloforte is an old tunny fishing port with a large sheltered harbour. You used to be able to anchor there but the port authorities have put a stop to it. Instead you’re greeted by a RIB from one of the marinas touting for your business. The town’s streets are delightful - mostly too narrow for cars with tiny shopfronts overflowing into the road. In one of the many piazzas, we join families out for a stroll in the evening. The near constant wash from the ferries jostles us against other yachts tightly packed on the marina pontoon. In the morning we offer to sing the Marseillaise to our French neighbour to celebrate Bastille Day.
The next day we motor over to Calasetta on the north side of Isla de Antiochi. The hot scirocco headwind kicks up a chop and makes the 3 miles over there a bit of a slog. We’d heard that the new marina in Calasetta harbour wasn’t yet operational, although all the pontoons are in place, and that we could tie up for the night for free. Not so. In fact, it is open and the marina staff (in the nicest possible way) ask us to pay for our berth. It's oppressively hot as we walk round the town in the afternoon, and the peeling paintwork and cracked paving stones make us think it's a bit of a dump. But later in the evening we warm to the place, finding a pleasant café in the municipal piazza where we enjoy a glass of rose. We buy foccaccia and razza (skate) cooked in pesto for supper.
To the west of the town we spot a cove with a popular beach that is good shelter from the southeasterly scirocco. With the wind forecast to be the same again the next day, we arrange to meet Sula Mac there and anchor for the night. It was just one of those days when the forecast is completely wrong and we get a northeasterly instead, making for an uncomfortable day on a lee shore. We stick with it knowing the wind drops in the evening…..until we’ve turned in for the night and it pipes up again. That is good enough reason for us to say we've had enough and move into the lee of Calasetta harbour and re-anchor in calmer waters. When we look out in the daylight the next morning we find the water is so shallow it looks as if we’re anchored on wet grass!
We make an early start next morning to Teulada 32 miles away to get around Cape Sperone on the SW corner of Sardinia before the sea breeze comes in. To our surprise, fog reduces the visibility to less than 500 metres for the first hour, and we have to dredge our memory to remind ourselves how to use the radar. By 11.30 we are around the cape, but the breeze has freshened directly on the nose. It’s clear we aren’t going to reach Teulada without a serious slog to windward so we alter course to the northeast and an hour’s fast broad reach takes us to Cabo Pino where we anchor off the beach in the lee of some sand dunes in water of the clearest blue.
The Teulada peninsular is a craggy and forbidding place of rocks and cliffs. It is a military zone and off limits to anchoring and fishing. So it’s irritating to see several boats anchored in a sheltered cove just beneath the headland the next morning – a place we rejected yesterday in favour of Cabo Pino because of the restrictions. We’re bound for Malfatano, just west of Cape Spartivento to join our friends in Sula Mac. They reckon it’s the best place to anchor to sit out the forecast NW blow.
It’s a good choice of anchorage, with excellent holding in sand. A valley between the rocky hills slopes down to a sandy beach that looks invitingly normal laid out with deck chairs, umbrellas and an open air bar. Two small islands lying just off the beach divide the bay into two secluded anchorages, giving good shelter from everywhere but south. The NW wind turns up on cue within hours of our arrival. F6-7 is forecast and it continues for overnight and all the next day. It eases the second night, only to pipe up again for a second day. The continuous sound of the wind in the rigging is very wearing. The anchor snubber creaks as the boat leans under the load of another gust and the halyards rattle against the mast. We’ve switched off the windgen as it makes too much noise. It’s reassuring to have friends close by in the same situation and we make regular checks on each other on the VHF. Actually, by the second day of it we’re getting a bit more used to the conditions. When Leighton dives down to check on the anchor, he finds it hasn’t moved an inch. In fact it’s buried itself completely, even the stock has disappeared into the sand.
Now the worst of the wind’s blown through, we’re a bit fed up with sitting here. We’re ready to move on to Cagliari where we’ll get internet to reconnect with family at home, and shops to get some fresh food.
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