We had chosen anchorages along this part of the coastline specifically to be protected from the northerly and westerly winds that were forecast for today and tomorrow and had planned on staying the few days to rest and enjoy some exploring.
However, when a southerly wind and a rather strong north-setting swell materialised just before bedtime, we’d assumed that that was associated with the isolated thunderstorm that had just passed over us, especially since everything calmed down afterwards. So, off to bed we went.
Sadly, though, we were about to have one of our worst nights on Paw Paw, when the bulk of the storms to the south and southwest of us, passed over at around 0100 this morning. That was the end of our sleep! It didn’t help matters that a mayday call associated with a man overboard in the vicinity of the Messina Strait, was being broadcast over the VHF radio, putting our nerves even more on end.
As we bounced around with the high swell on the beam, causing waves to crash into the shoreline, and pouring rain, we debated what to do, concluding that we didn’t want to run the risk of making a bad situation worse and stayed put. Besides being flabbergasted at the weather forecast getting it so horribly wrong, resulting in us being completely exposed, there was absolutely nothing we could do, but ride it out.
However, when the anchor dragged at around 0330, sounding the alarm, lifejackets were donned, all hands were on deck and the anchor was raised to slowly work our way further east, staying a minimum of one nautical mile offshore while we waited for daybreak to enter the bay off the little town of Sapri.
Once safely anchored, before we could have breakfast and climb into bed, though, the garbage bag in our dinghy looked like it had gotten seasick and thrown up everywhere. We have no idea what happened, but given that we battled to dispose of our garbage in Sicily, we’d place a full bag in the dinghy and the contents were everywhere, floating in all the rain water we’d received overnight. What a mess!
Then, just as we were getting ready to crawl into bed, after an early morning breakfast, we both heard an almighty bang. Thinking something had hit us, we scrambled on deck to realise it was fireworks being set off from the beach. By this point we were sure we’d entered the twilight zone! This happened again at noon, but, thankfully, we managed to get some shuteye between blasts.
When we surfaced, Roy took our garbage ashore having spotted large bins on the beach. With more isolated thunderstorms forecast for the afternoon, although the sun peeked through briefly, we stayed onboard until early evening when the rain abated, or so we thought, before taking a stroll into town.
The plan was to have an afternoon coffee then an early dinner as well as pick up a few provisions. Well, none of that materialised, with the exception of eventually stumbling across a little bakery on one of the backstreets that had fresh bread and a fresh produce “man and a van”, who had fruit. The coffee shop we’d spotted on the beachfront didn’t have coffee and we couldn’t find another one and the restaurant we wanted to eat at didn’t open until 1930. Deciding on a different restaurant, which supposedly opened at 1800, was awash too as they left us standing in the rain outside the restaurant long after the specified opening time, by which time we decided they weren’t worth our business and returned to Paw Paw for a light meal and our beds, but not without first getting soaked in the rain; we were both fast asleep by 2030, desperately wanting this day to be over.
Following a stroll around the little town, however, in search of the services we wanted, besides some very pretty gardens and some lovely buildings, we stumbled upon “Piazza Plebiscito”, the main town square, bordered by “Parrocchia Immacolata Sapri”, the Church of Saint Mary Immaculate, draped with a huge banner, as well as beautiful lights and various stalls being setup. It occurred to us that there must be some or other celebration taking place, which would also explain the fireworks.
As it turns out, being the 15th of June, the town was celebrating the Feast Day of Saint Vito.
Little is known about St Vito, also called VITUS, born circa 290 AD in Sicily and was the son of a pagan Sicilian senator, who was converted to Christianity by his nurse and later martyred. He became the patron saint of nervous disorders for casting an evil spirit out of the son of the Emperor Diocletian. According to legend, he died during the Diocletianic Persecution in 303 AD, around the age of twelve or thirteen. In certain parts of the world his Feast is celebrated with dancing, giving rise to the name of the neurological disorder, "Saint Vitus Dance", an autoimmune condition, also known as Sydenham’s or Rheumatic Chorea, which is characterised by rapid, uncoordinated jerking movements, primarily affecting the face and the feet. It also led to Vitus being considered the patron saint of dancers and of entertainers in general, as well as providing protection against lightning strikes, animal attacks and oversleeping.
Although we would have loved to witness the celebrations, we were simply too tired; our beds were calling, but, once again, a destination provided us with an insight into a cultural aspect of a country we were visiting and a taste of an experience we weren’t expecting.
