Siricusa Sicily!

 

It seemed like a good idea at the time…….

With winds forecast to be mostly light and variable, we departed Greece in early July, anticipating a mixed bag of conditions on our three-day sail to Italy. Not perfect, but certainly do-able.  If only!

The trip started pleasantly enough, but by the second day, we were caught in a miserable washing machine of cross seas, quartering seas, seas on the nose, and were reefed down in force 7 conditions.  SD was being pounded so much that we finally gave up and hove-to, essentially “parking” the boat for eight hours. When conditions moderated enough to continue, we soldiered on, and at dusk on the third day we spied the summit of distant Mount Etna through the haze. We followed the bright range lights into Sicily’s Siracusa Bay and were anchor down at eleven o’clock that night.  I think we may have managed to brush our teeth before falling into our bunks, but I wouldn’t swear to it. We sailed/motored 290 miles to make good the 267 needed for the rhumb line.

We woke to a calm and sunny morning, and to the pleasant sight of the big catamaran “Endangered Species” anchored nearby, with our friends and fellow Floridians, Rick and Robin aboard. We all dinghied in together for our first look at Italy, coming ashore at a convenient little dinghy tie-up practically underneath the first little bridge to Ortigia.

Full moon over Ortigia

Ortigia, Sircusa’s “old town”, is actually a small island, connected to the mainland by a couple of little bridges, each only about 75 yards long.  Lonely Planet describes it perfectly, so we’ll steal a quote from their guide: “Café tables spill onto dazzling baroque piazzas, and medieval lanes, lined with trattorias and cafes, lead down to the sparkling blue sea. Its magnificent central square, Piazza del Duomo, is one of Sicily’s most spectacular.”  Founded in 738 BC, in its heyday mighty Siracusa was the most powerful city in the ancient world, larger than Athens and Corinth.

In Oritgia’s Piazza del Duomo (Cathedral Square), the Metropolitan Cathedral of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary was originally a 5th-century BC Greek temple.

 

Marble stones in the floor mark the resting place of several long-gone people entombed underneath.

Ancient Greek ruins, identified as the Temple of Apollo, lie crumbled in the grass at a little intersection in Ortigia, protected by a low wrought-iron fence.  The nearby public market, stretching for several blocks, is a feast for the eyes as well as for the palate. Brightly colored local seasonal fruits, vegetables, and flowers are piled high at the market stalls. Fishmongers call out loudly to passers-by in sing-song Italian, hawking the fish and shrimp, eels, squid, clams, and cockles on their beds of crushed ice, while behind them, men take hefty cleavers to huge tuna and swordfish.

Adjacent stalls offer nuts, herbs, olives and oil, tapenades, sweets, and more. The smiling, energetic “Cheese Man” is a local celebrity; his little shop and sidewalk stall are always busy, with plates of samples to tempt the shoppers. When I asked for a taste of pecorino, he actually made me a little sandwich, and when I departed with over two pounds of a variety of cheeses, he kissed my hand.

“The Cheese Man”

On that first day we were a bit dizzy and wobbly from our passage, having not yet recovered our “land legs”, so we didn’t linger long ashore.  We did stop at a small café for a light bite and a refreshing granita, a cold sweet slushy treat.  Italian is proving to be a cinch after the Greek, because we share the same alphabet, but care has to taken nonetheless. Ken is a genius when it comes to engines, radios, sailing, and electronics, but languages are not his strong suit. To simplify things, I do the ordering, as if Ken took the initiative, he might end up asking not for a granita, but for a granata, which is a hand grenade.

We returned to Ortigia the following morning with our friends, along with crew from another American boat, David, Betty, and Tom, off their motor-sailor “Sundance”. We celebrated David’s birthday with lunch at the tiny (six tables!) “Sicilia in Tavola” trattoria. Since swordfish were currently in season,  SD’s crew feasted on a plate of thick Tuscan spaghetti with swordfish, pine nuts, raisins, and cherry tomatoes.  Delicioso!

Our priority that day was to locate a dentist to deal with a miserable toothache that Ken had developed. The pretty girl at the tourist information office not only found us a nearby English-speaking dentist, she phoned the office and made us an appointment for the same day. We will be forever in her debt!  (Cruiser info re the dentist at the end of this post.)

Dr. Darico Di Paola and his staff were absolutely wonderful. His diagnosis – not so wonderful.  With decay under a five-month-old bridge, Ken needed a root canal and a new bridge, which involved a series of appointments and required that we extend our stay for an extra week.

Cruising in the Mediterranean is all about “weather windows”. Like “making a run for it” when crossing a busy street, cruisers have to be prepared to weigh anchor and beat feet between gales, when the forecast is favorable.  This area of the Med is periodically hammered by the Mistral, a ferocious gale-force wind that blows down from France’s Rhone Valley. We were anxious to take advantage of any friendly weather, but were grateful to have such a prompt and happy solution to Ken’s dental issues, at about one-third of what it would have cost in America. At least we were anchored (read: free!) rather than berthed at the expensive marina.

We took advantage of the opportunity to play tourist. A bus trip to the town of Noto took us through the countryside, which was peaceful if unremarkable, with groves of lemon trees and the ubiquitous silver-green olive trees. In Noto’s old town, astonishing ancient buildings, like huge peach-colored wedding cakes, towered over the central avenue. Impressive!

Noto

Noto

More Noto!

A few days later, back in Siracusa, we walked up to the Basilica of San Giovanni (St. John) one morning to tour the ancient stone catacombs. Fascinating, eerie, and  bit spooky – it was awesome! More than 10,000 people were entombed there at one point, and eventually the alcoves were full, and people had to begin cutting tombs into the stone floor. Tomb raiders over the centuries had made off with all the personal items entombed with the deceased, and when WWII began, the bones were removed to a mass grave so that the catacombs could be used as a bomb shelter. Our guide spoke fluent English, and had tons of interesting factoids and stories. It was cool and haunting, wandering the labyrinth of corridors down there amongst the tombs, and we felt that it was well worth the eight-Euro ticket.

Basilica of San Giovanni

With an eye towards a departure on July 26, we’re busying ourselves planning routes for our westward passages, and Ken has become quite the weather guru, studying multiple local forecasts to decide on our best “window”. We’ve decided to take the route around the south coast of Sicily since it is 40 miles shorter and offers more harbors of refuge than the north coast.

We found a small shop in town to buy “sfuso”, or “loose wine”, sold from vats for as low as 1.3e/liter to fill the empty bottles that we’ve been saving for this purpose. (They also offer 5, 10, and 20-liter bags which they will fill with the wine of your choice.) We sit on the bow in the evenings enjoying this fine local wine, watching the familiar little fishing boats potter around the bay, waving to some of the regulars. The anchorage is home to hundreds of foot-long mullet, which school around the boat and entertain us with Olympic-class leaps from the water, performed for reasons known only to mullet.  Yachts enter and leave the nearby marina, and the setting sun tints Ortigia’s ancient waterfront buildings in soft shades of peach and pink.  

It’s been a great stop! We would be happy to spend more time here, but we want to reach the Canary Islands in September, and with the limited weather windows for heading west, we need to move on.

Ciao for now – K&K     (Cruiser info follows): 

Excellent English-speaking dentist:

Dr. Dario Di Paola,  Corso Gelone 86 (in the “new town” of Siracusa, across from the Jolly Hotel). Phone: 0931 68145 (Melges 24 racer)   

Laundry: several in Ortigia, but we like the Lavanderia in the new town, on the corner of Corso Umberto and Via Filipo Cordova, only one block west of the second bridge. The Italian owner speaks excellent English, and his American wife was a wealth of local knowledge. There is a book swap here.

Tourist info office: Just a few steps across Via Filipo Cordova from the laundry, the lovely girl at this office was a life-saver in finding the dentist, as well as providing bus schedules and fare info. She also has good maps.

Nautica Marine – excellent chandlery near the tourist office mentioned above.

Dinghy landing: Great spot, never crowded: From the anchorage, go under the first bridge, and tie up near the rental boats on left just beyond the bridge. Take care when tying up not to block the tiny channel on the left that leads to a little basin where local boats tie up. It’s recommended that you lock your dinghy; a chain runs along the wall for this purpose. You can also use the boat yard (nearest to the supermarkets) and the Coasta Guardia dock.

If you like classic rock and roll, tune to 103.0

Feel free to contact us for more local knowledge. 

You can contact us at: SandDollar_N4KS@yahoo.com

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You can read about our early years at www.tripsailor.com/kstuber

 

Goodbye, Greece

 

 

Paxos fisherman cleaning his nets

We departed Preveza on the first of July, motor-sailing in an annoying six-foot swell, which thankfully petered out to a light chop in the afternoon. We anchored 28 miles later in peaceful, undeveloped Ioannis Bay, and left the next morning for another short motor-sail, 15 miles west to the island of Paxos.

Paxos (aka Paxi) is a jewel of an island, with turquoise waters, lush green countryside, quaint villages, and outstanding beaches. Added to this is the traditional Greek hospitality, making it quite the popular vacation destination. We entered at the harbor town of Gaios, where the ferries and yachts squeeze past each other in the narrow channel, and the quay is crowded with dozens of boats. We chose to anchor at a quiet spot near the entrance, but the bottom proved to have very poor holding, so we moved a mile south to tiny Mongonissi Bay. With just a single taverna and one small beach bar, the main attraction is the little white sand beach where bathers can cool off in the clear emerald-green water.   There are no shops here; just terraced olive groves, bordered by low stone walls, on the hills above the taverna. Paxos is famous for its olive oil, and there are trees on the island that are a thousand years old.

The beautiful Paxos Olive oil is stored in big vats: we treated ourselves to a bottle of this famous local product.

A couple of days after our arrival we met Will, the young skipper of a small flotilla of charter yachts that had tied to the quay. We chatted for an hour, sitting in the shade of an olive tree near a collection of anchors and assorted ground tackle available for borrowing, while a local fisherman arrived in his boat and unloaded a big swordfish and an 80-pound headless yellowfin tuna, which disappeared into the taverna’s kitchen, destined for the grill that evening.

Gale-force winds were forecast for the day, and were certainly honking by the time we rowed back to SD. Ken happened to be sitting on our bow when he noticed that a neighboring yacht, with no crew aboard, was dragging anchor,  the gusty 40-knot winds pushing her closer and closer to the rocky bottom of the nearby shallows. He hopped into our motor-less dinghy and rowed like hell toward the pile of loaner anchors ashore, where he snatched up an anchor with its chain and rope, and headed back to the runaway.

On the way, he encountered Will, who joined the rescue effort in his big inflatable. Crew from another yacht had boarded the dragging boat, and as Ken passed the anchor line up to that guy, Will used his dinghy as a tugboat to push the yacht out of harm’s way. Ken rowed the kedge anchor out and dropped  it, the guy on board the yacht hauled the slack out of the line, and all was finally secure. Outstanding teamwork in those Force 8 winds!

Will’s dinghy doubles as a tugboat.

 

All hands pitch in to save the day!

That evening for dinner we joined Will and his merry group of about 20 people: children, teens, and adults, all from the UK, making for easy conversation. Our fresh fish was first-class, and at meal’s end the Greek dancing began on the covered flagstone patio.

Will and Katie – Cheers!

 

Will’s co-skipper, Sally, at the head of the table.

 

The succulent grilled tuna on my plate was swimming in the Ionian Sea earlier that same day!

 

Having retired his old sunglasses to his shirt front, Ken is stylin’ in some high-fashion eyewear!

A young Greek couple danced several graceful traditional Greek dances, followed by an energetic young man whirling and leaping his way through the flames of ignited alcohol which the staff splashed on the flagstones.  Once the flames had subsided (the taverna is probably not insured for combustion of the clientele), the original dancers and the taverna staff began urging the diners up onto the floor to join in.  A few reluctant guests (read: Ken) had to be actually bullied into dancing, but pretty soon everyone was involved, holding hands and snaking around the columns of the patio, our steps fast and furious. We’ll remember this evening as one of our very favorites of our cruising years.

 

Traditional Greek Dancing

 

The gale blew itself out after a couple of days, and we put the outboard on the dinghy and motored a mile back up the coast to Gaios for a little shopping, a little sight-seeing, and a final souvlaki before we leave Greece in our wake.

Approaching Gaios’ waterfront in our dinghy.

 

The town square at Gaios, and the church of the Agioi Apostoli. (means something like “Blessed Apostles”)

 

Beautiful detailed iconostasis (icon screen), candelabra, and hanging censers (incense burners) in the church.

 

We met a friend who asked (begged) to share our souvlaki. She also liked the French fries.

Mongonissi has been the perfect final chapter to our Greek cruising odyssey, as it embodies all that we’ve loved about Greece: the smiling, generous, outgoing people, the stunning and varied landscapes, the clear emerald and azure waters, and, oh yeah……the food!  We made lots of new friends, visited colorful towns and villages, and had some excellent sailing, even though we got our butts kicked by the meltemi wind in the Aegean. The song says it well: We had the time of our lives!

K&K

SandDollar_N4KS@yahoo.com