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We returned to Port Saint Louis and Rush in early October after a couple of great months at home, culminating in two milestone family birthdays and, sadly, a funeral for someone who meant a huge amount to us.
Rush was launched two days later and that afternoon Alexis from Belgium (he has a CM46 like Rush in build) and his friend Roel from the Netherlands joined us. We met Alexis through this blog and video chats while he and his wife, Veronique were choosing which catamaran to order – then had dinner at Bucklers Hard when Alexis and Roel sailed to the Solent on Roel’s boat. A trip aboard Rush gave Alexis the opportunity to experience a CM46 in action before making their myriad of final spec decisions.
After working through some electrical gremlins, with Clarence logged in from Cape Town, followed by a major food shopping expedition in Derek, we departed the following afternoon for a 60 mile passage to Ile de Porquerolles and a rendezvous with Lars and Anna-Lena on Odin.
Arriving at Porquerolles in the night set the trend for the whole passage. Fortunately, I enjoy night-time arrivals provided the conditions are benign, which they were. That said, later in the voyage a fish farm did necessitate a full-on, full-astern stop as we felt our way into a Capraian anchorage!
Two (more) days of howling Mistral winds kept us pinned in Porquerolles harbour, the upside being good times with Lars and Anna before departing for the Italian island of Capraia, just beyond the northern tip of Corsica. That night saw our first wing-on-wing sail with Solent and staysail in the last blast of the Mistral, then mainsail and G1 the following morning, followed by motoring in flat calm the rest of the way. That also set the pattern. We have a boat that sails in light winds – but you do need a light wind!
Can’t complain, we could keep making progress and, with Alexis and Roel aboard, we all got decent sleep during the long autumn darkness. With many cruise ships around to inspire us, we decided if we did want to stop, we’d do it during the day; swim, explore, then depart before dusk with (alcohol free) evening drinks, dinner at the table then slot into our night rota.
Our route comprised heading from Capraia down past Elba to the island of Ponza, on the approx. latitude of Naples, followed by a hop past Capri to have breakfast off Positano and an afternoon in Amalfi (we know how to live), then on down to Vibo Valencia, about 30 miles from the Messina Strait. My word, the Italian Islands and Amalfi coast are spectacular. Capraia and Ponza were wonderfully out-of-season quiet, while Positano and Amalfi were like blasts of tourist humanity amid our four-person passage-making “isolation”. In many ways, that added to the experience – and dipping into to them for a few hours was perfect.
Sadly, Alexis and Roel’s time was up and they departed in Vibo Valencia. One of the lasting memories and upsides of this trip will be the time spent with them. They ran the boat with us, maintained and fixed stuff – we visited places, laughed and told life stories. We’ll remain friends and sail together again. We’re so often reminded how cruising is about people as much or more than places.
A few hours later Adam arrived from Bermuda to see and sail Rush – to help his decision-making process regarding a CM53 purchase. At this point, you may be thinking we have a commercial link to CM. We don’t! It was also lovely to spend time with Adam but… after his massive journey from Bermuda, we either had zero wind or a lot, smack on the nose, through the Messina Strait – where the eastern small boat channel is too narrow to beat. Adam didn’t even see a sail on Rush before he had to head home… Sorry Julian…
Adam did, however, earn his keep on the approach to the Messina Strait when we motored into a large patch of floating debris. The port engine vibrated then stalled. The props are accessible from the waterline on a CM but, nevertheless, it’s handy to have a 60m capable, passionate free-diver on board. Adam donned his mask and hopped off the transom with a knife, emerging several minutes later with a shredded back-pack which had become solidly wound around the prop and shaft. You’re also welcome anytime, Adam!
Adam left from Reggio Calabria at the bottom of the Strait and suddenly there was just the two of us. It felt quiet, and good too. We departed for the crossing to Kefalonia, in the Greek Ionian Islands, but with no wind (again) and a sloppy sea after the strong winds of the previous days, we decided to get some rest and more diesel in Rocella Ionica on the Italian toe, before crossing.
As we approached, in the dark (of course) a patrol boat hammered out to circle and unnervingly blind us with a massive floodlight, before blatting back to the harbour. We headed in and tied up on an empty stretch of quay, as two uniformed guys turned up to ask nicely, albeit with a language barrier, for our papers which they indicated they needed to take away and return two hours later. That wasn’t comfortable so Martin followed them to their office to wait, sign loads of forms (in Italian – no idea what) and be told to leave first thing in the morning – well, second thing, they insisted on first go at the fuel dock!
When we woke in the daylight it all became clear. We’d moored alongside a migrant camp. Two lads, up early, wandered out of the huge tent to chat to Red Cross people in bright uniforms and then try fishing with rudimentary string and bait by Rush’s stern. We swapped friendly gestures and, when their line got caught, allowed one of them to hop onto Rush’s stern to reach it. Normal, seemingly nice lads – we felt no threat – it all felt very real.
The sparkling sea was flatter and we even had 10 knots of breeze for about three whole hours at the start of our 180 mile Ionian crossing. Rush was off at 7 to 9 knots while we had breakfast and, once again, thought how fortunate we are. Then, after flopping about in hope for a while, it was back to motoring and we nearly made it into Greece, a key destination for SO long during this project, before dark the following day… but not quite. It would have been an anticlimax!
It was a Friday evening when we anchored off Argostoli and the following Monday was a public holiday, so we had an enforced few days to chill-out before we could tackle the Greek clearance and cruising paperwork fest. It was wonderful to be back in the Greek Islands. We love them. Actually, in typical fashion, the wind filled in after the first day and made the anchorage slightly hostile, but that’s cruising!
We then had two glorious weeks in one of the world’s most beautiful cruising grounds, hanging around between Kefalonia, Ithaca, Levkada, Meganisi and the mainland in 20 to 25 degrees of unbroken autumn sunshine. This region is usually somewhat spoilt by huge numbers of yachts competing for the best bays and harbours but at this time it was almost deserted. When the first (half term) week ended everything closed instantly – shutters down, tables stacked, small boats pulled up slipways, shops closed. We had to think carefully where to buy food, let alone eat out! We got loads of minor jobs and updates done on Rush, interspersed with swimming and walks on shore. Oh, and one more tense night at anchor off an un-forecast breezy lee shore. It felt an absolute privilege to have this area almost to ourselves.
Right on cue, the weather changed, rain and wind set in and we headed for shelter at Preveza Marina, removed sails and lines, serviced engines and prepared Rush for the winter, ahead of lifting out at Cleopatra Marine on November 14th and heading home two days later.
