Ponza to Stromboli

For information on all the Aeolian islands read here: http://www.eolnet.it/eng/IsoleEolie.asp or use that handy tool, Google!

We enjoyed a perfectly awful start to Stromboli from Ponza in 4-6 foot seas, 20 knots gusting to 35, and raining straight down (hard). We have been out of the shipyard and sailing exactly 19 days, though it seems like 40. We have put on some miles, and had some brief but fantastic visits to incredible places. None of those days produced more than a sputtering of rain, but now that we a a million miles away from the lady that took lots of money to refurbish our canvas bimini, it rains hard and we make a new discovery. She restitched the seams but did not seal them with something like everyone’s favorite 3M product, Scotch Guard. So, off we went, raining in the cockpit, wet, cold and utterly miserable. I took a Bonine and went to sleep. My watch started at 9 pm and lasted to midnight. The wind had dropped to 15-18, so we were running under a full genoa and a bit of engine. This had our speed fluctuating between 6.5 and 8 knots. A cargo ship coming right at us, showed a radar CPA (closest point of approach) of 0 to 1.5 miles depending on my speed in 20 minutes. Now for everyone who has never even been on a boat- What do you do- try to outrun a cargo ship at night under the fluctuating speed of sail, or stop the engine and reef the sail and let her pass in front of you. I chose B. I cut the engine. the speed stayed the same, varying by the wind not the engine, so I tried to reef the genoa at night in the rain without leaving the cockpit, which is a sub prime geometry for good ergonomics, and managed to form an elaborate override. This means I wenched (hydraulically) the sheet onto itself firmly securing the sail in that position. I tugged and whined. Stuck.
Now the radar showed the same CPA in 15 minutes. So I had to wake up Neal. Big strong he-man fixed the override and went back to sleep, the cargo ship passed safely behind. I imagined the captain looking through his night binoculars and seeing a frantic woman at the helm, just decided to go around us.

By about 3 am the seas calmed down and by morning the wind was gone as well. We actually recovered a bit underway, and when we arrived at Stromboli in the evening, we worked a bit and grilled steaks, had a nice wine we bought in Bandol and slept well. We woke up to a black boat as the volcano spewed its volcanic ash at us.

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We went to shore for a bit of a walk and enjoyed the feel of this active volcano island.
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The main attraction is the hike up the volcano in the evening to arrive and see the fireworks at night. The hike leaves at about 5 p.m. and returns at about 11:00 p.m. We wanted to try it, because we love to hike and the volcano is active currently, but the winds and the guests’ ferry schedule contrived poor conditions and bad timing to do so. But we talked to some hikers, who came to hike once and stayed a week. I think I could spend a week or a month writing and hiking and meeting hikers from the world who have vulcan fettishes. Neat place. A place where you can potentially see a sign: Tsunami Escape Route –> atop a sign that reads: <— Volcano Escape Route.
I saw such, just not positioned so. Darn. What a perfect snapshot that would make!
After lunch, we headed to Lipari to retrieve our next guests.

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The Cinque Terre

Visited June 6-7.
From Santa Marguerita Ligure, we arrived at Monterroso, northernmost town of the Cinque Terre.
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I have waited to see this land since our first trip to Italy in 2010, when our schedule was already too full and we didn’t make it. Monterroso is a little cliffside town of the 5 terre that seems to be split in two by a massive coastal rock. No worries, there is a tunnel! Probably built by Romans. We went to shore right away and hiked to the next town Vernazza, such a cool name, and considered by the book I bought to describe it as one of Italy’s loveliest towns. I had to buy a t-shirt and change my name to Vernazza. At least until we reach Venezia (if).
The part that we hiked is the only part that is open for hiking since a massive flood and mudslide wiped out much of the trail, I’m not sure when. It was pretty enough, but so crowded with tourists that we had to wait in queues at times to ascend a staircase, and much of the trail was a staircase
The hike was very steep, many stairs, many many people, traffic jams, and a far second place to the Path of the Gods hike above the Amalfi Coast. Similar, but less maintained, more inland, the houses having a more box of pastels look than the Amalfi houses. The corner where Vernazza pops into view was quite impressive. It seems like the town, especially the piaza at the waterfront likes bring solid color umbrellas. Looking down on it, I had an “Unbrellas of Cherbourg” moment. Quite pretty.
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We climbed the Castle Daria, had beers in the piazza.
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We showered and went to dinner at Miky, an expensive and good restaurant. All was good but for the 8 euro cover charge and the 50 minute wait to pay the bill. Back at anchor it was fairly calm, even a bit hot, and we slept like tired, full, happy tourists.

The next day we visited Manarola.
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They store their fishing boats in town, parked parallel, like cars.
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Every town needs a swimming hole, right? Manarola doesn’t go wanting.
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Another lovely town, but in general, we found the whole area to be more crowded and less interesting than we imagined. I suppose we are getting very spoiled, but we were glad to keep moving down to Portovenere and wait for a guest to arrive.

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Café in paradise- Portofino, Italy

We walked here, 3 miles from Santa Marguerita Ligure.

Along the way we stopped for a peach on a park bench. We let Chum, the boat dog, pick the spot.

We took the ferry back an passed very close to Amante at rest at her anchorage. No other boats, few tourists, flowers like a hothouse and fine, if cloudy weather.

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Welcome to Italy

And the low carb breakfast bar….tre cappucini, per favore

Vanessa

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Villefrance Sur Mer and Cap Ferrat

Visited May 30- June 3

Not far east of Antibes is the peninsula of Cap Ferrat. Villefrance Sur Mer is just on the other side, both bays providing decent shelter in calm weather. Both of these places are surrounded by stunning hills and white limestone, with dark green trees and roads snaking up the mountains.

The bigger town is Villefrance with a concentration of colorful block buildings at the waterfront. Walking around in search of the night’s restaurant was a treat. We returned the next morning for bread, something I plan to give up any day now, and something our Italian Captain needs fresh every day. He doesn’t get bread in a plastic wrapper, or frozen food. So somebody’s job is to go buy bread every day we are in port. Not a bad thing, very European, citizen of the world thing.

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The neighborhood is quite fine, David Niven lived here a time, and Paul Allen and Andrew Lloyd Webber are or have been reported as Cap Ferrat residents. The landscaping is equal to the houses for stop and gape factor. The flowers per square inch must exceed some legal limit- I imagine residents sending their representatives to court to argue for lower penalties for over-planting beautiful flowering plants, the fuscia bouganvillia covering nearly every vertical surface. The smell of some white flowering vine is intoxicating, dizzing. This is the area my sailing buddy Mary said she could live, if forced to live in France. Well chosen, Maria.
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There is a walking path around the perimeter of the peninsula. Barriers mark the entrance saying it is closed, but the lady at tourist information looked at us and proclaimed that we could make it. So we did, or as far as I could go still recovering from some sickness. Along the way we walked through Cap Ferrat and decided to come back.

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The anchorage in Villefrance was a bit rolly, but for Cap Ferrat we stayed in the marina. Since I had been sick for the entire time we have been sailing, I was ready for a rest day. We walked towards the beach, thinking to stay a couple of hours in the sun, but instead splurged for chairs and umbrellas at Paloma Beach Club, a swanky beach club with chairs, a nice restaurant, and a staff of about 20 youngsters delivering food and drinks. We stayed the whole day. Rosé on the beach. Bliss!

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Wishing you this kind of day

Cap Ferat, French Riviera.

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To St. Tropez and Cannes (area)

We anchored around the southern part of the port in a nice, protected cove called Baie Canebiers (43 16.195 N 6 39.573 E). Mauro took us to a dinghy dock near a trail that we saw people hiking and jogging on. We took this sentier litoral (trail) into town after about a mile’s walk. We went through a cemetery with many of the more interesting tombstones I’ve seen, bronzed motorcycle helmets, faux records, many many ceramic flowers.
We entered the old town and immediately saw a little art gallery with works in progress hanging with completed works. I like the author’s style. He had fairly detailed, realistic sailboat race paintings, along with a few landscapes, and a series of St Tropez waterfront scenes. His stylized human form, made with 5 or 6 distinct strokes, really struck me. I bought one and shipped it home.
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I liked St Tropez. We walked the waterfront, had gelatos, oogled the yachts, walked down the street with the beaches.
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It was about what I expected, but it is still early in the season, so the beaches were not covered with Brigette Bardot wannabes waiting to be discovered, but several empty beach chairs and a few freezing tourists. We had lunch, Neal ate horse, chevalier. Ew. We walked around the fort and called Mauro. He asked us to kill some time, hoping the water would get calmer. It didn’t. We dinghied back from town in pure slop, bring the foulies kind, and we had dinner on board again. Seas were perturbed, but no big swell, but the wind was pretty strong.

After St. Tropez, we motored to St. Honorat, the island with the Cisterian monks who still run a monastery and makes wines. We had heard of this so we went to the restaurant and enjoyed a record breaking priced lunch. Apparently this is a big day sail destination from neighboring Cannes, where we couldn’t get a berth. In any marina. So the restaurant was a bit posher than we expected for a small island. What surprised us was how good the Chardonnay was! We bought 3 bottles and toured the monastery by hiking all the way around the island, about 3 miles.

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With no berth and the weather coming up, we sailed to the other side of the sister island, Marguerite for the night. I don’t think we have ever been at anchor with such company. Six or eight yachts over 150 feet. I guess they couldn’t get into Cannes either, the week after the film festival. We hiked all the way around this island the next morning, 5 miles, I think.

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Love this photo on Sta Marguerita. Pretty much sums it up. Busy Cannes is across the bay, while here on this little island, time moved very slowly.
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Les porquerolles

With our younger son Ryan aboard, we left La Ciotat, sailed to and anchored off the Porquerolles. The seas were flat and it was nice to hear the generator for the first time (and that it worked was a lovely bonus). The wind was pretty strong. Amante spent a happy night finally(!) at anchor in the Porquerolles.

Next day we walked around the island, saw the windmill, light house, Petanque court. The island has a definite island feel, everything is a little slower, slightly sways with the movement of the swell. The island is covered with trails, just dirt roads leading everywhere, some narrow enough for bikes only, and there are plenty of bikes, as there are few cars. We returned to the town center, had steak and fries for lunch with a Rose that we would miss soon as we get to Italy. Mauro picked us up on the beach. Pretty darn perfect first day off the dock.
The Frankings had a wonderful hike making them happy.

It was early and the weather was coming up, so we sailed from Les Porquerolles dead downwind to St Tropez. Started out motor sailing, as the wind picked up we killed the engine. Love to take a photo of Amante at 10.3 knots with nothing but the genny! Evidence that the rig is on tight and that Amante actually sails (!) made our new Captain Mauro happy.

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Les Porquerolles

First night off the dock. Beautiful sunset. Hurray, we’re off!!!

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Last Days in La Ciotat

I think I have said goodbye to this little town many times, but leaving is now upon us. Ryan will arrive Saturday, and from here we will sail the French Riviera to Nice. It is fitting after many rainy, windy and sour days waiting for another redo of a cosmetic nature (7 times on the varnish!), we are here for La Ciotat’s Calanque Classic regatta. Classic Yachts will fill the harbor and Amante has a front row seat, just steps from the action-packed waterfront. Tonight we will walk 13 steps to dinner! Amante is here, on the bottom left of the photo.

Vanessa

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