I’m not going to dwell too long on our crossing from Sardinia. Richard has written about it in an earlier blog, and I can’t really add much to it. Except, perhaps, to say that I did find it a lengthy night. We slipped lines at 7am and arrived the following day just before 1pm. The autumn nights are much longer; it was dark by 8pm. I need to do watches, which means I needs to rest when I am off-watch. But try as I might, I’m not one these people who can just put my head down and sleep if I'm not tired. Even as a child I was a light, restless sleeper.
I let Richard get some rest during the day, and went to try to sleep just after 8pm, ready for my 10pm shift. But I could not doze, and by 9.15pm, I was back up on deck. We decided to bring the shifts forward, so Richard went down until midnight, although he did come back and help reduce the sail power to make it more comfortable.
But off-shift, from midnight to 3am, I still could not sleep.; I couldn’t wedge myself into our master suite bed, and I kept rolling around with the swell. I was almost relieved to go back up at 3am.
Richard, bless him, stayed up with me on deck and tried to sleep in the cockpit. But eventually I sent him to bed[ Ed, because my knees were cold.] We were on a stable sailing tack and I was fine up on deck. Finally, at 6am, I slept for a couple of hours. Nevertheless, I was pleased when we arrived in the harbour at Trapani, and got moored up safely.
What do you do to pass the time on night shifts? I try to read, although I check every few pages for any lights or problems. I have recently discovered the author Robert Harris, and have already devoured ‘Second Sleep’ and ‘Conclave’. Just before we set off for Sicily, I bought ‘Ghost’, about a “ghost” writer who has to pick up writing the autobiography of a former British prime minister after the death of the original ghost writer. It starts with the aforementioned death, which occurs when he goes overboard from a ferry…! Suddenly I didn’t fancy reading this on an overnight watch, and hurriedly bought the trilogy he wrote about Cicero, which I have to say, is an excellent, mesmerising read.
Our next sail was from Trapani around to Castellommare del Golfo, a pretty little tourist town on the north west coast. We tracked the weather forecasts, and decided the wind and waves should have dropped enough for us to leave on the Sunday morning. We woke up in the night to heavy rains (yuk), but the morning was dry, if overcast. Windy (a weather forecasting app) promised us F3-4 winds, gusting F5, and it was pretty accurate, although the sea state was a bit more rolly than we had bargained for [Ed, passing round the north-western cape, the sea bed rises sharply from over 300m to about 20m, and the sea can be a bit confused].
We sailed up the coast, around the cape at the top, where the west coast meets the north coast of Sicily). The Admiralty charts say that the seas here can be dangerous to small craft in bad weather. Fortunately, we had reasonable weather.
We then gybed down into the gulf to Castellommare. It was much more comfortable at first though got a bit swelly again at the end. A lovely young chap in a RIB guided us to our berth, and made sure we were safely tied up. We had arrived. We planned to be here for three nights (Sunday – Tuesday) as the weather is still very changeable, and Wednesday was looking better.
As this is supposed to be a Grand Tour and not just a sailing trip, Richard was keen to get out and get some culture. When we were in a museum at Erice, we had seen fantastic photographs of the Temple of Segesta, and took the opportunity to hire a car from the marina and visit it. The marina asked did we want a Fiat Panda or a Jeep? Oh, a Fiat Panda will be fine…
Everywhere you go in France, you see civic projects proudly proclaiming funding from the EU – autoroute extensions, TGV routes etc. All I can say is they must get the lion’s share of the money, and poor little Sicily doesn’t get anything. I googled map routes to Segesta. The fastest was just over 20 minutes, but Richard leaned over my shoulder, said “Ooooh, let’s go a scenic route” and reached out to press start…
The first few minutes were fine, the road was okay but had a few potholes. [Ed, there seemed to be no hardcore under the roads and the thin tarmac was rutted like a farm track]. We went downhill and under a bridge, where all the recent rain had gathered. We drove through this lake, and fortunately came out the other side.
Many years ago, I was driving, in very wet weather, an old British Leyland Marina which belonged to my ex, Phil. He was in the passenger seat. I was either still a learner or hadn’t long passed my test. We came to a similar lake in the road. “Keep the revs up” he advised, “because if you stall it, you won’t restart it without me drying the sparks plugs”. Needless to say, I did stall it, and he had to get out in ankle deep water, open the bonnet and dry the sparks plugs.
Anyway, on we go, and suddenly the road disappears and becomes wet, stony track for a hundred metres, full of huge ruts and rocks. Gingerly, Richard negotiates the track and says it feels like this is turning into a Top Gear foreign challenge. This happens a few more times until we come to a stretch this looks completely impassable. We agree to turn around and try a different route.
The next road starts off with a Tarmacadam finish. Nice. Buy hey, you’ve guessed it – before long we were back to potholes, water, ruts etc. And then came the really impassable bit, so we turn around again. This takes some reversing skills on Richard’s part I might add. Now we know why they offered us a jeep!
We try yet another road, but as that also turns in rocks and ruts, we look at each other and decide to abandon the scenic routes and try to find the autoroute. The road that leads to it is much better. “Look, white lines ‘n’ sh*t” says Richard, cheerfully.
Once at the temple the day brightens up a bit. It’s a glorious sight, covered far more eloquently in Richard’s blog. We had competed our sightseeing at the Temple, just after lunch. R suggested, as we had the car, that we drive on to the outskirts of Palermo to visit the Cathedral at Monreale. It would save us hiring a car in Palermo. The Rough Guide describes Palermo thus: “…Add to this a constant soundtrack of sputtering, swirling traffic, and some of the most anarchic driving in Europe, and you’ll quickly see that this is not a city for the faint-hearted…”. Yep, let’s go to Monreale now. It turned out to be a reasonable drive via the motorway and reasonable roads. [Ed, apart from the maniac that overtook us at high speed in a busy village centre, almost taking the wing mirror off.]
Back at the boat, I quickly checked the weather. We had planned to stay In Castellommare for three nights, but the forecast was now showing better conditions for the next day (Tuesday) than originally forecast, and whilst winds and sea-state were even better on the Wednesday, the presence of potential thunderstorms made us decide to depart the next day.
We hurriedly paid up for the marina and had a quiet night in watching Only Connect and University Challenge on BBC iPlayer. Although we wanted to get away early the next morning, we didn’t need to be slipping ropes before 7am. We had quite a leisurely start to the morning – up at 7.15 rather than 6am, ha ha! The French boat in front of us was also leaving, heading up to Corsica (didn’t envy that trip). They could have manoeuvred around our boat, but it would make life much easier for everyone if we just left first. So, we did.
And it was a pretty uneventful journey around to Palermo. The two hours north-east out of the bay were a bit rolly, and the water shallowed as we passed the airport, so the waves were a bit higher. But we were entertained by the number of planes landing and taking off.
As we rounded the top of the bay, Missy Bear was in a better wind position, and by the time we turned back down into the bay to Palermo, it was very calm, and I volunteered to make lunch. We hoped for a nice sail but, typically, the wind dropped and we ended up motoring the last bit.
We are now safely tied up in Palermo, and we are really looking forward to exploring it: sometimes, it is better to arrive than travel hopefully.