USS Harry Truman Show
For these reasons we concluded that passing the Strait at around midday would be wise. We leave our anchorage as the sun rises over the horizon and start motoring towards the Strait. I have been keeping an eye on the weather for the past few weeks and indeed, the wind seems to always come from the north and funnels to a solid 20 knots. So of course today, the forecast is for a very weak southerly, 5 knots at most. However, being on a tight schedule we cannot afford to wait a couple days for a better weather window. As we finally near the entrance of the Strait, the wind suddenly picks up a bit. Excellent, we put out all our sails and turn off the engine. Except that in no time the wind starts blowing at a solid 15 knots and once we get close to 20 knots, Kim starts going into “over stress mode”. We put a reef in the main and the genoa and enter the Strait.
A traffic separation zone, basically a highway for large ships, takes most of the space inside the Strait meaning that we have to tack and tack and tack again to stay within the "sidewalk". The sailing is exciting and very physical, and Kim relaxes a bit. At times we hit patches of water that look like the sea is boiling, resulting in Kujira behaving like a drunk teenager being unable to go in a straight line. We also experience a really strong current of nearly 3 knots pushing us along which is great. Thanks to this one, we manage to beat into the wind at 8 knots, which is pretty much equivalent to whale light speed.
Fact check : "Nowadays you get good weather predictions for the next 24 to 48 hours ". If by good they mean that they are not wrong 100% of the time then I agree, otherwise I will have to pull out another horseshit card for that one.
Just after the narrowest part of the Strait there is a massive “traffic roundabout” in the middle of it. Not wanting to play tag with 100 meters long ships, we elaborate a cunning plan that not only will allow us to skip the roundabout but will also allow us to cross the traffic separation zone, which we need to at some stage, at 90 degrees, which is a legal requirement, and with an optimal amount of tacks. We perfectly execute the manoeuvre just to be stopped on the spot. The current on that side of the straight is going against us, the winds are weaker and at the wrong angle. We have pissed off the Messina monster. While it looks like we are sailing forward and moving through the water, the GPS shows that we are actually going backwards! This being unacceptable we have no choice but to cross again and find ourselves in the middle of the roundabout, dodging ferries and not going at 90 degrees. So much for our cunning plan! At least once we’re back on the western side of the Strait we make good progress again.
Later in the afternoon an event of cosmic significance happened, the path of 2 old whales crossed. While it doesn't unleash a kraken or stops the earth spinning, it definitely becomes the highlight of our day..
Half a year ago Kim discovered on YouTube a couple from Dublin doing an extensive re-fit of a dying beached whale with the aim of bringing it back to Ireland in June/July this year. Kim got in touch with “Windy Wayra” and we have been exchanging a lot since. It is thanks to Alex that we fixed our rudder which may save us from losing it in mid-Atlantic, but that's a story for another day.
We had hoped to be able to meet in person and maybe spend a night in an anchorage together. Instead we will have to satisfy ourselves with a near collision. However their AIS is not working properly and their exact location is uncertain. We exchange messages for a couple hours before Kim spots them on the horizon. There is no doubt, with 2 masts and a fat belly it can only be an old whale. As we get closer they put up all 3 sails and so do we, even though the mizzen is useless while beating into the wind. We wave at each other, toot at each other with the fog horn and have a brief chat on the VHF. Then, just like that they disappear behind us. That is how crossing paths with complete strangers from the Internet becomes the highlight of your day. The rest of the afternoon is uneventful in comparison.
The next day is a slow mix of motoring and sailing that starts in a thick fog which fortunately doesn't last very long. With light steady winds coming on our beam, the side of the boat, we decide that it would be a good opportunity to fly the kite (AKA Gennaker). Once the first one is up, we decide to put the second one up.. on the mizzen mast! It takes a bit of time to figure out how to rig everything but once it’s up we look quite spectacular! Too bad no one is around to admire us. However, is it worth the trouble? Not really, the second kite adds only a few tenths of a knot to our speed while the risk of going batshit crazy is significant.
The pier with the gas station is a concrete rectangle. One side has some rubber protections but is currently occupied by a boat of the Guardia Costiera, the coast guards, while the other side is just concrete. We decide to wait for the coast guard to be done. So we wait.
And we wait.
And we wait some more.
But waiting with a 14T boat means hovering, turning and trying not to crash into any of the boats parked nearby. After a while the guy from the station who has been chatting with the coast guards for the last 15 minutes or so points at the end of the pier. Not keen on manoeuvring next to an unprotected concrete wall we decide to wait for the coast guard to bugger off.
So we wait.
And wait.
And wait some more.
It has now been well over half an hour and it is pretty obvious that they are just chit chatting so we decide to aim for the end of the pier. We prepare our game plan and start our slow approach. Everything goes according to plan excepted that once we are within a couple meter from the pier, the guy tells us to stop and wait for the other boat to leave. Bloody macaroni! We haven't got all evening here but we comply and go back for more loop-di-loop. After another 10 minutes the coast guard finally leaves but we don't even have time to put the boat into idle forwards that the macaroni at the fuel stations yells at us to hurry. Feeling the pressure I speed up a bit..
I always tell people that manoeuvring Kujira is like trying to parallel park a 35 tonnes truck, on a slope, covered with ice. Today is no exception. As we get closer the macaroni is yelling at us even more, commanding us to go faster as he wants to go home.
I glide nose first toward the pier.
With Kim we always prefer to tie onto the pier using the midship line as it gives us the best control of the whale. Otherwise, if you go with the front line, you can be certain that Kujira is going to poke his ass out and if we go with the back one the bow-thruster is usually too weak to keep him in check.
The wind has now picked up to a steady 10 knots pushing us away from the pier.
I need more speed or / and a greater angle of approach.
Kim is ready with the midships line however the macaroni has decided otherwise and throws her a very long front line. We were not ready for this. Kim battles the rope hoping to stop me. Meanwhile I am trying to turn the nose of the boat away from the pier. What happened next felt like a disaster unfolding in slow motion with no way to stop it.
We still have a bit of forward momentum when Kim finally gets the rope around the bow cleat. However she doesn't realise that by doing so, she suddenly turned the line into a giant sling.
I don't realise immediately what she did and try to move the nose to the left with the bow-thruster, totally forgetting to reverse hard as it doesn't really work with Kujira. I see the boat pivoting towards the wall instead of going away as I am trying to do. To make things worse, there is an opening in the concrete wall for a staircase which means there is a sharp corner. To make things even worse, that corner is protected by an even sharper and stronger metal bit. I see the nose of Kujira going straight for it.
I shout something in the lines of "Où lala, sacré bleu!”, or maybe something a little bit less poetic. At the very last second I realise that Kim has turned the line into a sling and I order her to release it, but it's too late..
Kujira goes for an uppercut right in the nose.
“Nooooooooooo!!”
From the cockpit I don't hear any sounds but I see how the metal goes for a deadly punch. Kujira stops.
Kim, under shock, finally releases the line. The macaroni who did nothing is now yelling at us for releasing the line. He is now warning us that in 5 minutes he will leave, showing no empathy whatsoever for us. Bloody macaroni! We have been waiting for nearly an hour for you to finish chatting with your friends. I am suddenly so mad, annoyed, angry and scared at the damage Kujira just sustained that I put the boat in reverse and reverse park the boat, using the midship line. A manoeuvre I would never have tried under normal circumstances.
As soon as the boat is stopped I jump on land to have a look at the front of the boat, expecting to see a huge gash in it. But to my astonishment and our great relief I cannot see anything at first sight.
The macaroni is threatening to leave so we put some diesel in to get rid of him. Once done I have a further investigation. How is it possible? I saw Kujira diving for the corner. Kim confirms that we hit it.
After a few minutes I realise that our trusty Rockna, the anchor, took one for the team and saved the day. She now has a scar right between the eyes like the chosen one. Being attached to a reinforced part of the boat and the blow having been dead centred, the forces seem to have been nicely divided and I can see no signs of any damages, crack or bends. It's a miracle! Long live the Rockna!
We quickly get away from this place and decide to hoist the sails to release some of the stress and the adrenalin. Of course, as soon as the sails are up the wind dies but being in the Med we would not have expected anything else. So we motor sail for a couple hours before anchoring in the dark along the never ending sandy beach.
One more day in Italy, one more village, one more castle, one more pizza and one more ice-cream. Tomorrow we are leaving for Greece.
Out of pure luck, after 30 minutes or so as we are in the middle of our meal, Kim takes a quick glimpse in front of us just in time to notice 3 faint lights dead ahead of us. The AIS is not showing anything but we can clearly see a silhouette on the horizon and it is huge. We turn on the radar and a big red shape appears on the screen 2 nautical miles ahead of us. At the speed we are going, we will be there in 20 minutes, which shouldn’t be a problem because any large ship out here in the open is cruising at 15 to 20 knots. Our eyes are fixed on the radar screen, expecting to see the shape move away at any second but it stays dead still ahead of us. Kim takes the binoculars trying to make sense of this massive ship. We have never seen anything so big out on the open, yet it only has 3 tiny navigation lights. More surprisingly, it appears to be stationary. I take a turn with the binoculars and with the very last bit of light try to understand what seems to be parked in the middle of the bloody sea.
Is it a ship?
Is it a building?
Is it a town?
No, it is a frikken aircraft carrier! And it is really parked in the middle of the sea. We are uncertain about the course of action we should take? Call them on VHF?
“Fucking huge aircraft carrier parked in the middle of the Ionian Sea, Fucking huge aircraft carrier parked in the middle of the Ionian Sea, Fucking huge aircraft carrier parked in the middle of the Ionian Sea, this Kujira Kujira, Kujira, Have you acknowledged our position? We are a vessel under sail…”
Or shall we alter course to avoid them but would there be another ship nearby? It should show up on the radar. We alter course and pass them with enough clearance not to get shot at but by now it is as dark as the inside of a coconut and without the radar it is pretty much invisible to us. Why it doesn’t show up on AIS or have a few more lights will remain a mystery. Moreover, if it can be spotted 24 nautical miles away by a cheap recreational radar?!? A few minutes on google is all the time it takes me a few days later to discover that we nearly crashed into the USS Harry S. Truman “Show”.
After that exciting encounter, it is time for me to start my watch. The absence of moon and the knowledge that it won’t be visible for the entire night is a little bit depressing, moreover while sailing in strong winds with a bit of swell. You can not tell whether it is a wave coming at you or as a matter of fact, an aircraft carrier but once again, from the inside of our sheltered centre cockpit we feel well protected, not exposed to the wind or the elements. We also reduce the sails for peace of mind which doesn’t really impact our speed. Kujira is on the run and he is unstoppable! However, what is stoppable are our batteries. We have had issues with them ever since we left Olbia a few weeks ago. Voltage drop warnings show up on the plotter just about every time we use the electric genoa furler, Moreover, I have noticed that our batteries were no longer fully charging and that every day we were losing a few more amps. As a results we no longer have enough juice to run Neco all night long in strong wind. The solution is simple but exhausting: hand steering. Except that in the darkness of the coconut, all you can do is stare at the instruments and try to keep the bearing at a constant number. If it doesn’t sound fun, it’s because it isn’t. After 3 hours of staring at a red digit in pitch darkness you start hallucinating. Regardless of this inconvenience, for the first time we manage to achieve over 100 nautical miles in 24h.
The second day is less successful, an ever increasing swell is hitting us beam on while the wind is slowly easing off. As a result our speed decreases and our ETA increases. Not wanting to arrive well after nightfall we decide to motor the remaining few hours. So we squeeze a bit more dinosaur juice and put Mr. Perkins to work. He performs admirably and we reach Preveza, Greece with one hour of daylight left. This should hopefully give us just enough time to do our first dreaded Med mooring…
Med mooring is a way of anchoring your boat which is very popular and widespread in the Mediterranean, particularly in Greece. It is also rightfully feared by many yachties. The concept is simple: find a gap between 2 boats the size of a Mini Cooper and try to squeeze in a Bentley, or in our case, a whale. If that doesn’t sound enough like a stupid idea, you need to do that at speed, in reverse, while you drop your anchor and get ready to throw lines onto the dock to a passerby, a neighbour or whoever you can find. If there is no one, you are likely doomed to crash your boat into the quay or one of the neighbours. If it sounds like a bad idea, it is because it is. Just to make the challenge even more interesting, Kujira, this big fat whale, refuses to be controlled in reverse. I can turn the wheel one way or the other, he will go where ever he feels like going and the bow thruster has very little effect on it.
Not wanting to repeat the catastrophe of the fuel dock, we decide to take it slowly but of course it doesn’t go well. A nasty current pushes us to the side as we reverse, we don’t put out enough chain and we find ourselves completely misaligned with the gap we were aiming for. I go back out and we give it another go. By now half a dozen people are on the quay wanting to help us, or waiting to see us crash. A very assertive Brit is shouting orders and is obviously not wanting to wait for a 3rd try. He tells us to simply park on the other side of the yacht we were aiming at. We listen to him, which we shouldn’t have, and once we finally manage to attach the stern lines, that is from the back of the boat to the quay, we realise that Kujira is sitting completely wonky compared to all the other boats and that our anchor chain is on top of our neighbour’s anchor. We are basically the douche who parks over 2 car parks in a busy parking… Exhausted from the crossing and not wanting to face another attempt at Med mooring, we conclude that we might be better off checking with our neighbour when he has planned to leave and whether he is happy with Kujira trying to mate with his boat. Tomorrow, we will also need to face the Greek authorities and check Kujira into the country. Is it going to be a remake of the Italian shit show? We shall discover tomorrow…
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