June began with a quick trip to Corscia, to Bonafacio on the southern coast and through a narrow entrance to a small harbour which reminded us very quickly tht we had left Italy and were now in France - although both the Sardinians and the Corscicans would reject the idea that they are Italian or French and proudly fly their own flags, both of which bear the silhoette of a revolutionary fighter. In fact our first stop in the waterfront tourist shops was to buy a Corscian flag to fly from the starboard spreader.
But there is no denying that the language is that of the colonising power and we were soon struggling to make ourselves understood in French when a few short hours before we were struggling wiht Italian. We spent a day here exploring the tourist strip and poking into antique shops looking in vain for a bargain. At the end of the day we climbed to the top of the cliffs overlooking the Bonifacio Straits and watched a storm darken the sky and churn up the straits which we were to cross the following the morning .
A short sail from Bonifacio took us to the first of the anchorages we had planned in the Maddelena Islands - a protected marine reserve off Sardinia noted as much for the bizarre shapes of the rock on many of the barrern windswept islands. as for the marine environment. We nosed our way carefully into Cala Lunga on the island ...... and dropped anchor not too distant from these rocky creations and setteld in to watch the glorious sunset.
The Maddelenas were just a stopping off point for us as we were headed for Gaeta on the west coast of Italy and so we didnt stay long. We had one more night at anchor on Maddelena Island itself and then sailed overnight the 163 miles to the island of Ponza , just 35 miles off the Italian coast.
Our sail to the mainland of Itlay was great and made all the more enjoyable by the expectation of meeting family and friends. When we arrived in Gaeta Harbour we were on the lookout for Rob and Judi in Pablo Neruda, and we soon spotted Pablo bobbing at anchor. As we began backing in to our berth we saw someone waving at us from the other end of the marina and headed off in that direction thinking that the marina people had changed their mind aobut our berth. No! It was Rob saying hello and we passed some puzzled/slightly grumpy marina staff who wondered where the hell we were going. It was great after 5 years of planning to sail together to meet up with Rob and Judi so far from home. It was 11/11/2011 that Rob motored out in to Port Phillip Bay to farewell us from Melbourne. Even the local yacht club joined in the celebration and even though they were closed when we arrived they opened up for us and served large and numerous G&Ts.
The next day a great treat; Michael's son Chris arrived with Sophie from London and Sophie's mum from Israel. We spent a wonderful few days together exploring Gaeta and catching up, talking, talking, talking, and generally having a good time. We even went and hired lounges on the beach and tried out the European experience of enjoying a beach. A different experience to the less organised Australian approach to beach going. All too soon the long weekend was over and we had to farewell till next time - soon.
Gaeta is exquisite. It's not a tourist town. It's a place where people live and go about their daily lives with a mild interest in the few tourists who wander around. We strolled through little alleys, completely shaded and cool in the middle of the day, where Italian men and women, sitting in front of their small card tables that are layered up with boxes of lemons from their yards, or fish that had just been caught, waited for customers and watched what was happening in their streets.
We found a pasta-maker. His tiny shop held a large long oblong table which was covered in dusty flour, shelves behind this with different flours and flattened cardboard boxes ready to assemble for customers, a two door commercial fridge which held very large sheets of pasta in partitioned layers, like architectural drawings or maps in a cabinet, and a small glass showcase, empty as it was closing time, covered in fluorescent star-shaped signs advertising his products and prices. We bought spaghetti for that night's dinner. It was a unique pleasure for us all to eat this soft, smooth but firm spaghetti, strands separated and lightly coated by a home-made pesto.
Before we left Gaeta Mike and Jill joined us for the perfect 2 week cruise .... and so it turned to be. The weather was kind to us, mostly, and we were able to spend a wonderful 2 weeks island hopping down the coast to Sorrento and Amalfi and finishing in Salerno. But before we got there we went back to Ponza.
Ponza
Ponza is very pretty with pastel coloured houses and buildings painted in pinks, oranges yellows and blues, like the iced lolly Easter eggs we used to get when we were children. They are very well kept, and look newly painted. The waterfront has many bars cafes and restaurants. Little shops hold trays of fruit, vegetables, bread, bunches of herbs, jars of jams and honey, wine, cheeses and prosciutto. They are dark inside and much cooler than the sharp sun of midday. Several shops display a sign for fresh buffalo mozzarella and in the first shop, there is none left, making me think that it's made each day. The woman tells me "ah yes, it's all finished now", and in the second shop, the woman asks if we would like some, almost as though she can see me looking for where it might be. She scoops out a large round milky white glistening ball from the liquid in a big dish, using a small plastic sieve. It seems now I have the last one.
Ponza's history inlcudes a period in which the Roman emperors used it as a resort and where Nero carved himself a set of baths which you can still see as the arches at the bottom of the cliff at the harbour entrance.
We take the dinghy to see the cliffs and caves that surround this bay and the island. They are very steep, rising up directly and vertically from the water. At the beginning of the bay, the cliffs have several arches carved into them at the water line, creating shallow pools that lap softly with swishing sounds as the swell shrugs its way in. Inside these caves there are little passageways that lead away into darker watered areas, maybe leading further into the cliff itself, maybe finishing just past where we can peer from our dinghy that is about to touch the rocks in the shallow water underneath us.
The cliff faces in this bay are made up of different rock surfaces. Some are a rich cream colour as though a tanker carrying paint has toppled over at the top of the cliff, and the liquid load has cascaded down covering all the ridges and bumps and outcrops in a rich creamy milky liquid, ready for making pancakes. Other rock faces are grey, the colour of old once-white cardboard that has been left out in the rain and has gone grey and curly with wetness and age. These ones are speckled with lumps of darker grey that mottle the surface like age spots on the hands of an old person, an opaque look that is almost translucent. And the third type is soft brown, the colour of gravel from a granite quarry, and it's dotted with low scrub and some white wildflowers, then a higher layer of spikes of bamboo and sprouts of bougainvillaea gone wild.
We went ashore to have a look around and look for the yacht we saw drifting slowly out to sea with its anchor hanging over the bow the day before. once we realised that all was not well, we had alerted tthe Coast guard who had taken off with lights flashing and calls for reinforcements on the radio. Eventually 3 official boats were speeding off to save the "stricken yacht" as we began to call it. Jill talked to the three men who were on board. One had been asleep on the boat, left behind to look after it, and the other two were in town having a nice long lunch. The anchor dragged and the man on board had no idea that it was drifting, nor was he in any position to save the boat because he had no experience. They were fined E344.
After leaving Ponza we sailed South to the island of Ischia. A gentle sail in beautiful weather .. so much so that all the rules were broken and gin and tonics served by the skipper on the front deck!
PROCIDA
A very small island, part of the Pontine group of islands, in the gulf of Naples. It's authenticity and simplicity were a welcome relief for us from the over-developed tourist parts of Ischia. The tiny cafes on the beach cooked beautiful fresh fish - whole fried sardines were crunchy and moist - and a very special restaurant in a lemon grove, La Pergola, under the vines that looped and stretched overhead, was wonderful. They're known for their rabbit ravioli there and it was one of the best meals I've ever had.
We're loving the delights of food in Italy. The tomatoes are not like any tomatoes I've tasted since the tomatoes of my childhood, when Dad used to bring them home on payday after going to the fresh food market in a large department store in the city. The buffalo mozzarella is slick and silky, with a very faint drip of liquid as you cut into it, and a tender skin, as soft as cooked egg white. It's delicious! It is sold out of the little "alimentari" stores by lunchtime. Then there's the bread, the pastries, the lemon cake, the wine, the freshly fried anchovies, the oranges and doughnut peaches, grapes and cherries, and the limoncello.
SORRENTO TO AMALFI
We travel in calm but swollen waters, heaving with the roll that's coming off the cliff faces and the fast ferries that criss-cross the waters between Sorrento, Capri, Ischia, and Procida. Breezes are light but by the end we can sail, and as we near the coast the gusts give us 7+ knot speeds.
The peninsula that separates Sorrento from Amalfi is short, and is dotted with harbours all along its high rise coastline. The cliffs stretch way up behind the towns, like a velvet green backdrop to a stage. Cathedrals are obvious and clear to see, their spires and emerald-gold mosaic domes shining and glistening.
AMALFI
The entry to Amalfi is spectacular. It is a small entrance, and not many boats can fit it. There is a high sea wall on one side, and a small bay next to the marina. We know that Julio from the marina will come to take over our boat and drive us in, but what we experience is more than a functional matter of berthing our boat. The narrow entrance to the harbour becomes even narrower, and our boat is nosing into a short gap between two pontoons, one boat-width wide, with no clear view of any space on the other side. The seaside restaurant that is only 10 meters away.
Julio steers Isabella through, points her bow to the restaurant, then gently backs her in to the pontoon. Two men take over the lines, managing those that tie us to the dock and the one that ties our bow to the boat next door. It's smooth, professional and fast. Julio is proud of his skills. He looks happy. Although you can't see his eyes behind his lime-yellow-framed shiny mirror lensed glasses, you can see wrinkles at the side of his eyes that deepen as he turns his head around, checking distances, calculating speed and angles.
The town is right on our bow. The water is shallow and people are swimming within the throw of a stone. It's hot late afternoon sun, and we feel the stillness of the cliff-baked heat coming in waves.
We walk in the town. The town square is small and surrounded by exquisite shops selling clothing, leatherwear, shoes, food, ceramics, and trinkets. Lemon-based and flavoured products spill from shelves, baskets and stalls - juices, liqueurs, cakes, ice-creams, lollies, cordials and pastries.
The cathedral is ornate in gold and rich red, ruby, and navy blue decorated walls. Its richness also comes from the lighting which is warm and yellow, ballooning out from low chandeliers that hang between columns. As we enter from the front door, soft murmuring from a handful of seated prayers becomes louder. People are saying prayers, probably the Rosary, which is being led by a priest hidden in a side chapel or prayer room. They pray in unison with purposeful patience as tourists mooch up and down the aisles, chatting and taking photos. It must be hard to carry on life as usual in a town that is overcome by tourists and the busyness of buses and taxis, and people walking over and in the familiar ground of your markets and places of worship.
From Amalfi we take a short but exciting bus ride up to Ravello
Where we enjoy the tour of the 11th century villa
and just take in the view.
And then it's back on board for the short run down the coast to Salerno, passing the glories of the Amalfi coast and some pretty spectacular architecture
And finally to Salerno which became our base for a while as we did a bit of touring by land to visit Rome, Paestum and back for a special trip to Positano.
It was here that we farwelled Mike and Jill as they headed back to Australia. It was wonderful to see them and we had the perfect cruise covering not too many miles but having some great sails, great times and the odd adventure along the way. We even experimented with the barbeque which was a culinary success but which confirmed in our minds that naked flame is not what you need aboard Isabella and so we donated the BBQ to the men on the shore who ran a boat hire business and looked after our dinghy when we went ashore. They seemed pleased and particularly so becaue we provided a few beers to help them christen it
