What would it be like to return to where you’d left your boat and realise it had disappeared? A little bit worse than losing your car in a car park, I think. One lucky set of sailors almost lost their boat the other night off the island of Capri. It turned out to be a busy night for us too…

We’ve been meandering up the Italian coast over the past week, discovering peaceful bays, anchoring beneath towering cliffs and swimming or paddling to explore the beaches, caves and coastal communities.

For two nights we anchored off Salerno, a historic town full of narrow streets with cafes and restaurants spilling out across even the narrowest alleyways. Up above were wrought iron balconies strung with colourful washing and festooned with various lights and elaborate decorations. It felt a very joyous city, pulsing with activity, especially at night.

It was from here we took a bus to the ancient ruins of Pompeii – a place of sombre memorials and silent stories. There’s something eerie about walking on the huge cobble stoned streets, where some 2000 years ago people had shopped, traded, done their washing, cooked up meals, entertained guests, drank wine and dangled their fingers in the many pools and fountains of shaded courtyards. Some of the houses were poor and simple, but others gave us a snapshot of life for the wealthy, with vivid murals and deep red or green walls with the smoothest plaster and mosaic lined floors.

The heat was intense and there was so much to see. I had found a list of top 10 sites online, but switching between a photo of the map on my phone and trying to locate the top 10 ‘must sees’ in a shady spot without the sun’s reflection proved quite a task; meanwhile avoiding falling over the uneven pavings and cobbles of each area. If only we had picked up a paper map!

Pompeii feels vast – it involves a lot of walking; through the forum, the various amphitheatres – big and mini – the villas, and just street after street with similar names and Roman numerals that all began to merge. Unlike England’s meandering villages and historic towns, the remains of this ancient city was set out in regular blocks, which reminded me of New York.

We were nearing the end of our visit and our stamina too, but there was one of the top 10 I still hadn’t spotted. The brothel had been ticked off earlier and most of the others, but not the “house of the fugitives” – well that’s what I was calling it. I really rather wanted to see it and as we weren’t planning on coming back anytime soon, it had to be done.

So, even though it was on the opposite end of the site, as the heat of the afternoon faded we set off and eventually found the place.

It is shocking to see the detailed forms of people from so long ago, some in full flight, others hunched over, another covering their eyes.

This was the human face of the destruction of Pompeii. Never mind ruined buildings, here was an actual family running for their lives, small children among them. It made me think of all the innocents caught up in war and tragedy right now. Each life is precious. It was 2000 years ago and it is now.

Capri was our next island stop and we’d heard mixed reviews about staying there from a sailing perspective. We anchored quite securely, we thought, in front of a little beach and after a trip to the beach and the town, we settled in for the evening.

The wind was strengthening and the swell increasing as we watched the arrival and departure of various boats around us. Suddenly, we noticed a yacht that had been beside us start moving backwards, but there was no one onboard and their anchor was still down. It came within an arms length of us, but we couldn’t reach it or do much as it continued to drift. We called out a warning to the next yacht it was heading towards, which it also narrowly missed. The 40 foot boat was still heading out to sea and we wondered where the owners were. Some minutes later a powerful rib boat launched out from a nearby catamaran and managed to secure the wandering yacht to their boat.

In the midst of this we had begun to drop more chain to make ourselves more secure in the increasing wind and waves. But we, along with other yachts, found we were also sliding backwards. It was getting dark by the time we were anchored again in time to see the runaway yacht reunited with its owners and re-anchored safely a few metres away. There were also ‘thank you goodies’ delivered to the rescue crew, who had saved their bacon! All’s well that ends well!

That was quite enough drama for one evening. The runaway yacht was a salutary reminder of what can happen when you leave your boat at anchor and head for the shore.