Tag Archives: voyages

Who believes in sea monsters?

Posted on by
Reply

Of course I don’t believe in sea monsters, but paddling into a dark cave tends to feed your imagination…

After logging more than 1000 nautical miles, sailing from Greece and along the coast of Italy to Corsica, the end of our voyage is almost in sight. Today we are crossing the Straits of Bonifacio between Corsica and Sardinia, pushed along by a welcome cooling breeze.

The weather has been almost entirely hot and sunny, with the exception of Naples, where we got drenched one morning going ashore. Heavy rain and waves had swept across the little dinghy as it bounced through the rollers and we were a very soggy shopping party as we trailed round the local supermarket.

The day before we’d wandered through some of city’s piazza’s and enjoyed the evening buzz of the Spanish quarter. We ate in one of the narrow streets, jumping clear of scooters which wove their way between tables, where diners sipping drinks were forced to shift their chairs to let them through. The streets were full of colourful flags adding an extra dimension to the washing and lights suspended between balconies.

Naples was a pleasant surprise, but I didn’t need more than a night there. Since then we have hopped from one rocky island to another.

On one tiny island, called Procida, we found ourselves exploring an ancient prison on the cliffs. The village was a bit tumble down and that included the steps up from the beach where rusting reinforcement was clearly visible through the crumbling concrete. As we continued up the cliff road towards the towering castle above, it began to feel a little oppressive. We wondered why there were bars on some of the windows, and what were look out towers and barb wire doing on a castle?

A fading poster explained that the castle had once been a notorious prison with a cruel governor. And the story of one of the most unfortunate prisoners had now been made into a film – it was all about a postman who had been unjustly incarcerated there for years. It was a sorry tale and the little town didn’t seem to have ever fully recovered from the shadow of the prison that dominates the cliffs above.

Next stop were the Pontine islands – in particular Ponza island, where we basked in the clear turquoise waters surrounded by volcanic cliffs. We also came across an optical illusion – a giant stone arch, that had looked just like a massive cave from where we were anchored. The next morning as the boat swung round on its anchor we suddenly realised it was an arch as we watched people paddling through it. We read later that the strange arch was likened to a pair of builders pants!

Continuing our island tour we stopped off in yet another delightful bay lined with rocks and a sandy beach. Here there were a number of caves that looked interesting – so after snorkelling to check out a few, we took the paddle board to a more distant one. It was quite huge and I paddled in slowly, because you never know what might be hiding in a cave!

The cave was in two sections and the right hand part was very deep at the far end where the low roof disappeared into a hollow darkness.

“Paddle in there, it looks interesting,” I was encouraged.

“I don’t want to… it looks scary,” I replied.

“No it doesn’t… just paddle in..”

The debate continued. I didn’t want to go in forwards in case there was something unpleasant in there, like Gollum or a sea monster of some sort, but these didn’t seem very solid arguments.

We ended up going in backwards so that I wasn’t the one going in first. The walls were very close and damp and we had to duck our heads because the roof was so low. Just as it was becoming completely dark we both agreed there was nothing of interest and headed quickly out. If there was a sea monster, it must have been having a siesta, along with the rest of Italy!

Before leaving for the crossing to Corsica, the island of Giglio was our final stop. It was here that lives were lost when the Concordia cruise ship hit a rock and sank off the port. The negligent captain, who had been one of the first to leave his sinking ship, was sentenced to 16 years in prison. We realised that the rocks the ship had struck were at the edge of the bay where we were anchored.

This little Island was one of our favourites. After a scramble up cliff steps to the road, we enjoyed coffee at the port and took a local bus up to the ancient hill town above, where we enjoyed views across the island, while sipping cold beer. Later we swam and paddle boarded in a sandy bay until the sun went down.

Now on the final week of our time in Italy, I’m wondering what delights Sardinia will hold and how I’m ever going to get to sleep without the rocking of the boat!

The sea is our home

Posted on by
2

Sailing voyages are completely different to anything else… perhaps with the exception of space travel.

We see the world from a new perspective. Surrounded by blue, I’m enjoying the wide open seas and broad horizons. When land emerges, the coast isn’t a beach or a sea front or even a harbour. It’s a line on the horizon. As we come closer we bob past tiny houses in a variety of colours clustering round a hilltop, the trees and bushes appearing like a miniature railway set.

Then eventually we step ashore and everything comes into perspective again. The houses zoom into focus and begin to assume normal proportions, the roads and streets emerge and we breathe in the smell of land.

Yesterday we braved the heat to call in on some of the family holidaying nearby. Following instructions we trudged up a narrow track from the harbour. I inhaled the scent of pine needles and enjoyed the sweet aroma of jasmine as we passed a garden.

Looking for a padlocked gate, we wound our way up an increasingly steep path, eventually coming to a dead end at a gate into a large house. We must have gone wrong… of course there was no phone signal to call and check. We were sure we were close and started to call out, before retracing our steps. Getting lost has been a favourite pastime of mine, but this time it wasn’t long before I heard a shout from lower down the track.

“You’ve gone too far!”

With a guide to follow we began a steep climb up the hillside, through the “unlocked” gate, plodding up a line of steps reaching as far as we could see.

“There’s a pool at the top,” our son encouraged us, as drops of sweat raced down my cheeks like rain.

“It’s not much further… honestly!”

I paused on one of the many terraces lined with olive trees – it was beautiful. Behind us I glimpsed the shimmering blue of the sea twinkling between the trees.

At the top the view was spectacular and there was iced coffee to enjoy. Through the gaps in the trees we looked down on a lone Pura Vida, bobbing happily in the bay. Perhaps she was enjoying the space from her passengers!

The climb up was worth its weight in gold, as we enjoyed a refreshing swim and great company in the setting of an authentic Italian villa, complete with a long table on the terrace overlooking the sea. It was strange to be on land for so long, but before we had time to get used to it, we were back on board ready for the next leg of the journey.

Departure was slightly delayed by a little engine trouble. A few hours was spent rolling in the bay, while oil was pumped out and then replaced… I’ll spare the technical details!

So, late afternoon we waved goodbye to familiar faces and the hillside villa to move around the next headline in search of a quiet bay, where we hoped for a peaceful night.

For now our world is on the sea again. Land, towns and villages seem like alien places. The sea and the waves are our windows and our garden. The wind is our road taking us on to the next destination and it’s our comfortable place.

Stowaways and parrots

Posted on by
1

Ssh! I think we’ve spotted a stowaway!

He was fast asleep on a corner wearing the same scruffy jumper and ripped trousers that we’d spotted him in a day or two earlier….

Captain’s Log – Cunard Ship Queen Anne – this is now the 20th day of our voyage…

Today is a “sea day” as we relax on board after time ashore ( as if we’re not always relaxing on board.. No ropes to tidy or passage plans to check, not even any meals to prepare! What can you do except read, write and sunbathe?)

Back to stowaway suspicions – after several sightings in lifts and dining areas, one of us was convinced this person was not an official guest.

“Perhaps he’s sleeping rough in the laundry room and no one knows…”

This seemed a bit unlikely to me, I was more convinced he was a bit of an eccentric kicking against the ship’s dress code – just because he could!

On our entry to the Panama Canal we were up early to watch the ship make her first passage through the canal. As we squeezed in at the rail overlooking the bow and the ship was guided into the first lock with inches to spare, we glanced down at those gathered on the viewing deck below… There he was again! The Stowaway, as bold as brass, taking prime position on the bow and attempting to get help with a selfie on his camera. Maybe he wasn’t a stowaway.

Another emerging theory, floated over captain’s cocktails later, was that he actually owns the company and was an “undercover boss” seeing if he would be challenged by his crew! Had any of them spotted him, I wondered.

It took us all day to pass through the Panama Canal, an amazing feat of engineering, which several nations had taken part in at various stages. After the first locks, the ship emerged into a huge lake which was a surprise. Here we scoured the muddy jungle-like banks for crocodiles or alligators… not a sausage!

Although we hadn’t helped the process, there was a sense of achievement as Queen Anne headed out of the final locks and into the Pacific… we’d done it!

Next stop was Colombia, where we tried to recruit a ship’s parrot.

The port terminal of Cartagena was Colombia’s version of Ikea… not selling flat pack furniture, but frustratingly designed so that you had to zig through the whole maze of shops, stalls and perching parrots, peacocks in trees, flamingos behind fences and swinging monkeys, before you got to the exit. To be fair there was plenty of greenery and nice shaded paths to make up for it and the parrots were friendly.

Cartagena has its own taxi cartel and so there were no cheap rides into the old city. “Farmer tours” took off again and we skirted the ancient walls beside the sea, before wandering the narrow streets filled with coffee shops… but what coffee! We drank ours upstairs at Cafe Epoca, where a spiral staircase without rails led us to the dark wood interior, rich with the aroma of great coffee.

My favourite part of the city was the flag lined streets of Getsemani – formerly a poor area, now cool and trendy, with huge murals on every corner and brightly painted buildings. There were two nice surprises here, one was the price of Mojitos, where they offered BOGOFs, and while sipping drinks in the shade of a street cafe, we were serenaded by a ‘pop up’ group of rapping boys, who called me Barbie! (I wasn’t even wearing anything pink!)

When we clambered back on board, just before the clock struck 1pm, I wondered if the Stowaway had made it back in time… or perhaps he had not risked getting off!

We found out more at our next stop in Guatemala…