Westward, ho!

On our final morning in Sicily, we cast off dock-lines at 0800 and set our course for Teulada, Sardinia, 220 miles west. Once underway, we shared a cantaloupe for breakfast in the cockpit, as SD motor-sailed over a flat sea along Sicily’s south coast;  by nightfall the island was no longer visible. There were flickers of lightning far away to our north, but the night sky above us was clear, dotted with hundreds of stars, with the stardust-y looking band of the Milky Way arcing overhead. Very cool to be able to look out at the edge of our galaxy!

Despite variable winds and a lumpy sea, we were making good progress until late the following night, when the engine began running erratically. Ken’s inspection revealed dirty fuel, and for the next five hours, he nursed the engine along, bleeding fuel, changing filters, adding fresh fuel, and coaxing it back to life each time its diminishing RPM’s signaled impending doom.  As Captain Ron says in the hilarious movie of the same name, “If anything is gonna happen, it’s gonna happen out there!”  Too true.
 
Thanks to his efforts (Ken’s, not Captain Ron’s), we were anchored in Teulada, Sardinia by 0730, and got right to work pumping out the foul diesel and changing the engine oil.  In Teulada, diesel is only available by delivery to boats in the marina; there’s no fuel on site.  So in we went, and wasted no time in hooking up our hose to wash off all the salt and any traces of diesel. We also had a “situation” in the galley;  a particularly wicked wake from a big patrol boat had caused an expensive bottle of maple syrup to escape from its compartment and leap to its death, creating a mess of broken glass and sticky syrup inside (thank goodness) one of the lockers. Bummer.

There was nothing much at the marina other than a backdrop of pretty hills, so we treated ourselves one evening to rum and Cokes at the patio bar, and the next day took a bus eight miles to the unremarkable little town for provisions. We spent a couple of days back in the anchorage, waiting for a weather window, and weighed anchor one sunny afternoon as we bid “arrivederci” to Italy and pointed SD’s bow toward Spain, 435 miles away.

We had a mixed bag of weather for the passage, and although we had some benign periods, we also had a day of confused following seas, 2-3 meters, and Ken ended up doing a lot of hand steering. In the standard Med conditions of either no wind, too much wind, or wind on the nose, we didn’t get a whole lot of sailing in, and had to motor-sail so much that we ended up too low on fuel to make it to Spain.

Fortunately, the island of Ibiza was just a few miles north of our rhumb line, and so we altered course and arrived there late one morning. We knew that Ibiza had a reputation as a playground for the rich and famous, but we were still unprepared for the shock of reality. The place was like Fort Lauderdale’s Bahia Mar on steroids. There were three crowded marinas in the harbor, berthing dozens of monster mega-yachts and assorted floating palaces. We had to wait in the queue for fuel,  and little SD was like a chihuahua among Great Danes, daintily turning lazy circles while dodging passing behemoths. We took on our bunkers and beat feet, but even after leaving the harbor, we were still at the mercy of the big boys for another five miles, as one after the other they came roaring past us as we headed south, creating wakes that rolled SD mercilessly.

The final night of our passage was blessedly uneventful, and at 0300, we crossed the Prime Meridian into the Western Hemisphere, our home “half” of the planet. Arriving at Marina Alicante at 0730, we took our berth and proceeded with our usual “boat wash”. Tired from the passage and the clean-up, we waited til the following day to see some of this lovely old city. The ninth-century Castle of Santa Barbara sits high on a hill overlooking the town and the marina. The main street along the waterfront boasts one of the most beautiful promenades in Spain, the Explanada de Espana, which is paved with 6.5 million marble floor tiles, making the surface appear to be moving. Landscaped with lots of greenery, palms, and shade trees, it’s popular for strolling or just sitting and people-watching.

We visited the amazing Volvo Ocean Race Museum, which is located right at the marina, as Alicante is the site for the start of the race, which this year is on October 4th. The Disney-sponsored “The Black Pearl” took second place overall with Paul Cayard skippering about 10 years ago, and the boat is on display on hardstand in front of the building.  Admission is free, and the museum was truly impressive in its presentation of the almost unimaginable demands that this incredible race puts on the boats and their crews.




Paul Cayard – one of the great USA sailors

The control center getting ready for the upcoming Volvo Ocean Race

The arrival of a timely weather window had us leaving Alicante after too short a stay, but we cast off and headed south along the coast, picking up a mooring for the night at little Isola Grosa, just offshore from the big lagoon known as Mar Menor.  Following a bit of a roll-y night on the mooring, we continued on after coffee in the morning, and (wonder of wonders!) we actually got to SAIL to Cartagena!

The day was beautiful, the easterly wind was moderate, and SD scooted along wing and wing under main and headsail, making good speed. (Our trip log at the end of the passage revealed a max speed over ground of 8.9 knots!!)  Our route took us along the coastline past the Sierra de la Fausilla mountains. These desolate grey mountains rose high above us, with menacing-looking jagged peaks and with steep rocky slopes running all the way down to the sea. No sandy beaches here! A forbidding coast, but starkly beautiful in its severity.

Lighthouse at Cabo de Palos

We made Cartagena by noon, and hope to have a little time to see this famous city while we wait for the next (you guessed it) – weather window!

Katie and Ken



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