Long Passages
Two nights ago, on June 4th, we leave Porto delle Grazie in Roccella Ioncia. This will be our last port in Italy.
At 9:30 p.m., we surrender our “constituto” to the capitainerie de porto and leave the dock on a journey taking us across the Ionian Sea to the island of Ithaca in Greece. The total distance will be approximately 208 nautical miles, so at an average speed of 6 knots/hour, we expect it will take us 34 hours to get there. This will be the second overnight passage we have undertaken, with the first one being from an anchorage in Sardegna to the island of Ponza with Roger and Tama onboard. The difference this time is that we will be at sea for two nights. After a good discussion, we choose to leave at 9:30 p.m. because it will mean we will arrive at the anchorage in Vathy, Ithaca in the morning, which is preferable to arriving at night and having to anchor in the dark in an unfamiliar place.
Before leaving, I ask Neil to go over all the safety equipment with me as a refresher… things like, how to rescue him if he falls overboard, how to radio for help using the proper terminology, how to use the navigation instruments at more than just a basic level, how to (heaven forbid) launch the life raft. I already know how to unfurl and furl the sails using the electric winches, how to start and stop the engine, as well as how to manoeuvre the boat. Although I have learned much of this in the past on our other boats, every boat is different and a refresher never hurts! If needed, I feel pretty confident that I will muster the necessary courage and handle an emergency situation effectively, but this knowledge does not keep my mind from viewing the glass as half empty.
The other reason I do not get too excited about long passages is that I worry that the sea state will be too much for my stomach and I will become basically useless to Neil when I am needed to step up and assist. Although I usually do not lose my cookies anymore, I am still finding myself pretty immobile when I get too dizzy in the swell. It leaves me laying down in the cockpit with nothing much to do. This will be a long passage for Finnegan as well because he has not yet learned to use the pee mat, which I understand is very common. Thirty-four hours might be pushing the limit!
The long-awaited shipment of our bikes from France finally arrived after a lot of anxiety around if and when they would actually come (how hard can it be to obtain a tracking number?, apparently it’s not as easy as one might think!) and Neil really does not see any reason to delay our departure. I have to admit, I really do not either. After all, we are scheduled to meet Al and MP in Greece on June 15th, so we really need to get moving if we are going to be able to see some sights along the way.
Leaving port in the dark, I try to be optimistic and focus on glass half full thoughts. It is a beautiful night, there is not much wind to deal with leaving the dock, and the skies are fairly clear (no moon though). We are in good spirits because everything has worked out with the bike shipment, Alessandra and her team at the marina have been really excellent hosts, the marina is clean and well-managed, both Neil and Finnegan have been groomed (at different places), beautiful beach walks, and meeting some new people. But then, just as we are approaching the harbour exit, a large fishing boat seems to be stuck. There is a lot of silting in the entrance to the marina and they maintain a depth of 3.5 meters, but we did see it go down to 2.5 at one point on our way in (our boat needs 2.3 metres of water before it will be on the bottom). Anyway, we wait and the fishing vessel finally moves on and we are able to exit, with Neil taking it VERY slowly, following a route he had mapped on the instruments on the way into the harbour in the event that we would be leaving in the dark (smart man!).
The other excitement, or perhaps terror for me, is when we are into our second night as the sun is setting. A lone bird is flying around the boat when there is nothing but water all around, no land in sight. It flys into the cockpit a few times and lands up under our dodger, chirping away, taking what is probably a much-needed rest. That is all good, but then it takes flight and I freak out as its exit route from the cockpit is quite unpredictable. I take to holding a blanket over my head and screeching! This is repeated 4 or 5 times before it eventually decides to sit up on deck near the mast. We do not see it again in the dark and it is no longer with us in the morning.
I just love reading about all your adventures! Glad you have made it safely to Greece! Hope to FaceTime soon!! ❤️
ReplyDeleteHello Carole and Neil! (and sweet Finnegan!)
ReplyDeleteSo great to hear about your Italian and Greek adventures! You are a brave girl. I think I am in your "boat" when it comes to glasses being half full, but thankful that Neil is calm and relaxed under pressure. Always good for a refresher on safety! Hopefully Finnegan will use the pee pee pad soon! He is a good little traveler! As we prepare for our drive north to Toronto and Huntsville with Daisy, and I am getting everything ready trying to anticipate everything we might need, I feel silly when I read your journey, and mine seems ridiculously simple! I can't even imagine what it must be like to be on that open water, sailing in the dark! Quiet. Peaceful. Terrifying. I am glad everything is working out. I really should stop watching movies about disasters at sea, as I imagine you guys in those situations and it scares me! I have to remind myself it is just a movie.
We love reading about your adventures! Keep the updates coming. Enjoy Greece and your visit with Al and MP.