By 0930 we were halfway, holding a decent SOG (Speed Over Ground), but by 1000 we were crawling along at 4 kts, given that slack water was only at around 10:45, at which time, like clockwork, our SOG jumped to 7.0 Kts. The other noticeable fact was that, in a matter of seconds, the freezing wind turned warm; we no longer needed our jumpers, jackets and woolly hats to sit at the helmstation.
As we made our way north we had very picturesque scenery to enjoy and, having marvelled in a blog a few days ago at the civil engineering feat involved in constructing the roads and tunnels on Sicily, we could clearly see the series of tunnels carved out of the mountains for the main road and the railway tracks, both of which run along the coastline of the island. It resembled a necklace of pearls, with a tunnel every few kilometres, some even closer. What we also noticed was just how densely populated the coastal areas of Sicily are, with numerous multi-dwelling buildings as far as the eye could see; understandably so, since the interior was mostly mountainous.
Getting through the strait was a bit of an obstacle course, though, with fishing pods, fishing boats, tankers, other yachts and ferries, the latter having the right of way and something we definitely didn’t want to get tangled with, especially the hydrofoil ferries that came screaming past at 36 Kts. However, something we’ve never seen before were the sword-fishing boats, with people standing high up on the mast as spotters.
The most bizarre event of the day was that our favourable current, which didn’t even last a half an hour before we had the current against us again until the last 5 NM, taking our SOG at one point to 2.6 Kts. So much for the accuracy of the tool widely used by sailors in this part of the world to transit this strait, which is supposed to specify the ideal time to transit, depending on which direction one is heading. Even more bizarre were the tide tables on Navionics, showing the tide falling at two different tide stations on the west side of the channel, but rising on the east side, which, of course, would be impossible in reality.
Fortunately we were still on track to arrive at our chosen anchorage as scheduled, having exited the strait at around 1230 as planned and we had avoided any delays associated with the swimming competition, highlighted by the securité announcements over the VHF radio, informing all ships that they were to proceed with caution and stay a minimum of 500 metres from the swimmers. Of course, the swimming route was across the northern entrance to the strait as we were approaching it and we could see the swimmers gathered on the west shore. Not sure how the tankers would cope with this obstacle and definitely not a strait either of us would want to swim across. Regardless, it was another very long day of motoring through the Mediterranean.
By 1915 we were safely anchored behind the large breakwater in the rather rural area of Vibo Valentia, with two other yachts for company and no swell. We had actually motored a further three hours eastward to ensure we had a good night’s sleep; we were over rolly anchorages!
Shower, dinner, bed was the order of events in quick succession, but not before we’d enjoyed a chat to Keenan and the twins, since William was at Summer School for the morning.
A pretty sunset wrapped up a very long day, but Roy’s comment of: “If we go anymore north we’ll be seeing the northern lights; where the bleep bleep are you taking me?!” had Elaine in stitches because it was a very valid point.
