You might think that the title of this blog suggests an encounter with the United States Air Force, well you would be wrong – read on.

The period of sailing after the boisterous exit of the Strait was short lived as the wind disappeared once again and I had to reach for the key to the ‘iron tops’l’ which responded without objection.

Motoring into the evening, I took a longer inshore route to ensure mobile connection before the expected mobile signal desert as I cross the instep. Even after dark, it was notable that the evening temperature was not just warm, it was hot – balmy!

After a quiet night under engine again, dawn brought a backing and increase in the wind so that, with one reef in the main and a reduced jib, we (I seem to refer to we but I mean me and Hejira) enjoyed a sprightly sail just off close hauled. Unfortunately this only lasted for an hour before the wind dropped and we were headed so the engine had to be re-engaged – yet again.

Hejira is very generously equipped with two 250 litre diesel tanks which should give me over a week of non-stop motoring, more if I run the engine at 2K revs as I have done on this passage. I also have the ability to carry a further 160 litres in containers concealed on the aft deck, strapped against new grab bars and fashioned into seats – you may have seen them in photos. I had chosen not to fill them on this trip thinking it unnecessary and the containers had all been ‘dosed’ for empty storage.  I had also chosen to leave the fuel ‘bladder’ stowed. This holds a further 80 litres and straps onto the foredeck – if you search ‘bladder’ in the search facility on the home page it should show blogs where the bladder is pictured – if you can be arsed. These are as a precaution on long Ocean passages when periods of motoring are expected like the return from the Caribbean through the windless Azores high. With it being 1200nm from Nice to Venice, that is probably ten days of motoring. I was expecting to do at least some sailing on this trip but, as I know from experience, the wind in the Med is capricious, often too little or too much for sailing. Unfortunately, to date we have mostly experienced the ‘too little’ conditions and we have motored nearly all the way.

Approaching the end of the first tank with the needle hovering just above the red, I have a decision to make. I am aware that even when showing empty there is still quite a lot of diesel remaining in the tank but one would normally not run a tank dry although this would extract the maximum volume. Having given the situation superficial thought, I have decided to switch to the second tank, hope to get some wind later in the week and stop for a refill when convenient and if I feel it necessary.

I am feeling particularly dozy this morning after my third night on this passage and I think I am entering a critical phase so I will try to catch up with some naps once clear of the coast and crossing the bay.

One of the delights of sailing offshore is the visit of dolphins, or even whales as we had previously experienced off the Azores. The sight of a pod of dolphins playing in the bow wave and looking up seemingly for approval of their antics is priceless and a truly humbling experience. It was significant however that last year all the way from Portsmouth to Nice, we only saw dolphins in the distance and they never came to play. This is so unusual that it seems highly probable that my new ‘Ultrasonic Antifouling’, (USAF) system is to blame. The system uses two transducers bonded to the inside of the hull which emit a random series of high frequency pulses, it could be that the cetaceans can hear the pulses and they find it unpleasant and to be avoided. In that the system was disappointingly ineffective, I have now turned it off and await a visit so watch this space.

Not having photographed anything remotely interesting since the last ‘mega blog’, here is a picture of the instruments at the chart table for what it’s worth.

Not wanting to disappoint my burgeoning readership which may by now have expanded into double figures, I will try to get this message away earlier than usual as I alter course to pass close to Capo Rizzuto and try to pick up a signal.

A telephone conversation with the hugely knowledgeable Barry has been very reassuring and once I have carried out a few precautionary adjustments, I feel that the next time I feel compelled to turn the engine off and experience the joys of silent sailing; I will have a better idea of how to address any ensuing problem.

The view from offshore of the coast of Campania and Calabria suggested a different Italy to the more northern regions. The coastal villages were small and the individual white dwellings were clustered together around the central church, all with terracotta roofs. The pilot book suggested that the villages were mostly charming and worth a visit. It is a shame that I have to speed past them and not explore ashore.

The wind continued to die away and at 16.30 there was not a breath and the sea had become glassy smooth. Just imagine if I had not managed to start the engine and had been wallowing around, going nowhere !

I had intended to take the direct route overnight from Capo Palinuro to Messina but there was a large fleet of 12 fishing boats showing on AIS clustered directly on the course. It seemed prudent therefore to skirt around the coast which should also retain the mobile signal. This seemed like a good plan until I spotted a line of small, semi submerged orange floats in the water across my course dead ahead. I thrust the controls astern and 15 tons went from 6knots to nil just as the floats and the now visible suspended net disappeared under the bow. They say that bad news comes in threes so I hope this is the third and final issue I will encounter on this cruise. The net emanated from a rusty fishing boat some way away which was not on AIS. As I approached to go round them, they seemed most grateful that I hadn’t crashed through their net but they could have done a lot to prevent the situation, they could have called me by name on the VHF had they been on AIS. This area must be alive with fish to justify this much fishing activity. Despite being inshore of the glut of the fishing fleet, there was a stream of vessels crossing my path throughout the night, presumably as they returned and left their home ports.

I have to confess that I slept through my alarm on one occasion in the night. I have replaced the battery and it now makes a more strident appeal for wakefulness.

At about 0915, 17 miles before the Strait, a menacing grey boat descended on Hejira at speed. The caption on the side was Guardia di Finenza – again. They ordered me to stop, which was difficult given that I had a full mainsail and was doing a few knots in the light wind even with the engine in neutral. They were busy deploying fenders and I dreaded them coming alongside from the way they were handling the vessel. They took exception when I brandished my camera intending to record the incident for the blog but were preoccupied trying to bring their boat alongside. We thankfully settled on shouted questions and answers across the gap between our boats, ‘where had I come from, where was I going – what – you have not stopped since Ostia?’ they asked with apparent incredulity and clearly not believing me. Their reaction to my reply to  ‘next port of call?’ – ‘Venice’ suggested they had just realised that I was a mad Englishman – they may be right!  When I explained I had a copy of a form filled out by their colleagues in Ostia they seemed visibly relieved and I stretched out and handed it to one of their crew, boy, was I glad I insisted they use their carbon paper in Ostia. They handed the form around amongst themselves and nodded to each other, handing it back seemingly satisfied and pleased no doubt that they didn’t actually have to ‘come alongside’ and board. They sped off from where they had come while I took another picture – sod their ‘National Security’, I’ve got a blog to illustrate.

The Strait of Messina separates Sicily from mainland Italy and is barely 1 ½ miles across between Capo Peloro and Torre Cavallo. Our (me and Hejira) passage passed inside the evocative volcanic islands of Stromboli, Lipari, Vulcano, Salina, Filicudi and Panarrea (not a bread intolerance) before reaching the shipping separation lanes. This is a volatile seismic area and as recently as 1980, 5000 people died in an earthquake in Reggio, the main harbour in the Strait.  The Strait has been famous since ‘The Odyssey’ with two legendary whirlpools, Scilla and Charybdis. It is commonly thought that the Mediterranean is not tidal but in the Strait there is a tidal current of 4 knots at springs. The South going stream starts 4 hours after high tide at Gibraltar which was at 0732 so our arrival at 1300 was bang on. In the words of the redoubtable Admiralty Pilot: ‘The currents and whirlpools, famous from antiquity, are such as to necessitate some caution in the navigation of the Strait, moreover, in the vicinity of the high land, on either side, vessels are exposed to violent squalls which descend through the valleys with such strength as, at times, to inconvenience vessels.’

I chose to tackle the Strait on the eastern, mainland side outside of the shipping lanes. The approach commenced opposite the town of Scilla, named after the legendary whirlpool.  It was here that I was fascinated by half a dozen of the most curious and unusual craft which were just circling and running up and down. They were clearly fishing vessels of about 60ft in length with a huge lattice mast with 3 people in a crow’s nest at the top. Wires from the mast supported a horizontal walkway nearly twice the length of the boat with someone sitting at the end. I am intrigued to know what this is all about as it must be profitable to support at least half a dozen of these unique and inevitably expensive craft, each with a crew of about 7. My guess is that the lookouts in the crow’s nest, spot the highly prized fish (large tuna maybe?) and the individual at the end of the huge bow sprit, harpoons the hapless fish, I await correction. The Strait is very busy with ferries of all shapes and sizes seemingly plying their trade from a number of locations on either side. The most striking feature of the passage though was the tide. We carried a favourable tide and while the log of speed through the water showed 5.5 knots, we were reading a speed over the ground in the gut of the Strait of 9.6knots which is a helpful current of over 4 knots. We also encountered a whirlpool which, but for timely intervention on the helm, could have spun us completely around.

Mount Etna on Sardinia, just to the south west of the Strait is a massive 3,350 metres in height. She is still smoking having erupted again in 2014. I remember it as where Professor Lidenbrock and his party returned to the surface in Jules Verne’s ‘Journey to the centre of the Earth’. Funny what you do remember when I struggle to recall people’s names that I have only just been introduced to. Unfortunately, it’s too hazy for a decent picture. Incredibly Etna has two ski resorts on its slopes – I bet you didn’t know that!

Having all but transited the Strait, it’s notoriously capricious nature didn’t let me off without reminding me not to be smug. The wind piped up along with a big sea and it was from directly behind. We were doing over 8 knots and I began to feel Hejira yawing and the auto beginning to struggle to react sufficiently quickly so, to stay the right side of the wind and a potential gybe, I had to take over for the next hour and a half until our course turned east and the gybe potential had passed. The early part of this transition was not helped by dozens of kite surfers off the turning point directly on the course that I would have ideally chosen to take. As a result I had to sail closer to the lee than I would have liked but it was either that or run the risk of a tangle of kite lines in the rigging. Having turned the corner and shaken out all plain sail, I flirted with the engine off button. Looking at the weather forecast, it would appear we will be able to sail into tomorrow so, yes, I turned the engine off. Unable to help myself, I started it again without a problem. Let’s hope this is still the case when next it is really needed.

So, it’s out of the Tyrrhenian Sea and into the Ionian Sea which is new to me. Having successfully negotiated the toenail of Italy, I have to negotiate the toe, past the ball of the foot and across the instep, and so it goes on.

The wind died progressively through the evening but maintained sufficient strength and angle to keep the main full drawing while Hejira and I motored languidly on the flattening sea.

My first night back underway should have been a gentle introduction allowing untroubled 20 minute catnaps in empty open water. In the event, I began crossing the busy Bay of Naples just after midnight and, for the next 4 hours, it was eyes peeled for shipping. In fact, there were only a handful of cruise and container ships that needed to be monitored and none of them passed within half a mile. I took no chances with the alarm and strung it round my neck on a short lanyard so it could’t stray far from my ears. I have to say that I did get some snatches of sleep, waking up in a panic on one occasion having dreamt that I had drilled a hole in the hull under the water line and we were taking on water!

With the breeze turning overnight to the east to blow off the land, it has taken on an earthy smell. I have experienced this in the past and in the right circumstances; you can smell the land well before you see it.

Dawn saw us past Capri and into the ‘twilight zone’ again with no mobile signal. My Iridium Satellite communication system is accessed through the ‘red box’ which provides varying degrees of firewall protection. I have recently upgraded the software and there is a setting which facilitates the use of WhatsApp which seems to work very well and I will be able to send and receive messages from anywhere in the world – one of my messages will be to ask Mailasail how much it is costing! I can also send compressed Emails and make and receive phone calls in an emergency. I will post blogs when out of mobile range using the system with the kind help of our Company IT support man Phil, aka Gandalf. Pictures will have to be added later once back in mobile range.

At 09.15, the wind picked up a little and was free enough to attempt to sail. The silence was magical and I used the time to check the engine oil and belts. Inevitably it seems, sod’s law conspired again and the wind dropped so we were making only 2.9 knots. The sailing experience, under a cloudless sky, on a flat sea, in total silence save for the slap of the waves on the hull was so totally sublime, it made me gasp with joy and want to sing – this is what it is all about and I am gutted that the indulgence has been largely robbed from me with the forced stop and my notional deadline. My original plan incorporated sufficient time to accommodate languid periods under sail but the 3 days lost with the battery saga has consumed the buffer and if I am to attend some meetings and assume my grandparent duties, I will have to press on. With the wind picking up slightly, and achieving 3.9 knots, I hung on to the experience until the wind dropped and headed our course forcing me to reluctantly reach for the engine key.

That’s when my problems really started – or didn’t start because I turned the key, pressed the button and nothing. I could hear a clicking but, particularly being solo, it’s difficult to try the button from the cockpit and test what is happening at the engine. So, tools out and start the diagnosis. When I shorted the terminals on the starter motor, there was a whirring but no engagement. It sounded to me like a problem with the starter motor and I carry a spare. So in the sweltering heat and the heat from the still very hot engine and working in the confined space, I changed the starter motor perspiring like a waterfall, optimistic that this would rectify the problem. Key, button, – nothing. I tried shorting again and just the same whirring. I then started looking at ports which I could reach in daylight sailing at 2 knots and where I could anchor outside to seek assistance. I thought of ‘phoning a friend’ but I had no mobile signal and I couldn’t get through on the Satellite phone. I thought I would just have a final fiddle with the connections on all the terminal blocks and I tried again, nothing, nothing, nothing,  then the engine started – what a result! (I have added this note in September after the passage of time has made my stupidity less embarrassing. It was all my fault, I didn’t need to change the starter motor at all. Having started the engine many hundreds of times in the past, I somehow thought it was started by pressing the stop button. I can only put this down to tiredness and it is a telling example of how judgement is compromised by lack of sleep.)

My dilemma now is, do I press on and just not turn the engine off (I have a week to go) or do I put in and try to get a coherent solution – in a foreign language with an intermittent fault…….? For now I have decided to press on and once I get a mobile signal, I will phone the ever helpful and very engine competent, Atlantic crossing crew mate, Barry Locke-Edmunds and then review my situation.

I slipped the lines this morning at 0610 and made my way out into an expected F4 on the nose in a lumpy sea under grey skies. The forecast is for the wind to drop but not till much later. Helpfully it is forecast to veer and the sun is due to make an appearance. In the meantime, I am happy to plod on down the coast. I have to say it is good to be out of the marina, not a very pleasant ‘stop over’ for all sorts of reasons although the micro-brewery was a highlight. The oppressive Ostia housing viewed as I pass sort of sums it up.

One of our long standing employees, the very capable Emma, left yesterday to take on new challenges. One of the staff drew a cheeky cartoon on the envelope of her leaving card, he could have given Hejira a mast though!

It is clear that many of the fishing vessels and some of the smaller pleasure craft have not made the discretionary investment in the AIS system. This is not surprising as it is expensive and this situation is not unique to Italy, it does however confirm (as if it were necessary) that a watch cannot be kept only electronically and necessitates the use of the old fashioned eyeball. I have just seen my first lobster pot marker buoy since leaving Nice – just another reminder about watch keeping.

At 12.20 there was sufficient angle on the wind to deploy the full main and derive a little extra drive and stability expecting to pinch up onto our course before long as the wind goes round and the sea breeze further helps the wind to veer. The angle will continue to be too tight for the jib unfortunately. And I can happily report that the sun is out !

Staying inshore does give a better view of the coast and the towns as we pass. Anzio was the location of ‘Operation Shingle’ in February 1944 when the Allies landed to be opposed by German troops (not Italians – I resist drawing any conclusions) and the campaign led to the capture of Rome. A film ‘Anzio’ starring Robert Mitchum based on a book by Wynford Vaughan-Thomas was released in 1968. On the 18^th of February 1944, the British light cruiser ‘Penelope’ was struck here by two torpedoes and sunk with the loss of 417 crew. I resist trying to pass this history off in the way of the slightly irritating Timothy West smugly imparting knowledge in his Canal Journey programmes on TV as though he is fully conversant with the minutiae of the various locations they visit. No, I confess, in my case, it’s all down to Wikipedia !

My return to the office saw the electrical specialist leafing through brochures of batteries, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he had promised to return to Hejira 3 hours before. The news was depressing, the nearest battery to my specification was listed at costing over 1000 Euros each and dimensionally longer necessitating modifications to the battery bay to accommodate them. When I grimaced at the price he confidently suggested that the elusive Alessandro could ring and get a better price. Well, he did eventually, he gave me a 10% discount and added 20% VAT !

So the deal was struck at 3,300 Euros (very generous I was assured) and the order was placed to arrive the following morning.

I have to say that, to mitigate a compromise to my whole summer cruise, I am happy to pay what it costs and I am relieved that I should be back on track, albeit having consumed the slack I had in my schedule to allow for slow light wind sailing.

Unable to really do anything else and to assuage my frustration, I ventured ashore that evening intent on finding a decent beer. What an amazing discovery to find a micro-brewery/pub/bar just at the end of the dock. They served a pint of very acceptable IPA and a curious pasty thing in the shape of a skull…. There was a choice of fillings and I chose the one claiming to be ‘goulash’. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t good either and eating a skull was not particularly inviting; I think they need to re-appraise their product and marketing.

Wednesday morning and after another good night’s sleep I was champing at the bit to get things sorted. When I had no news by lunch time, I made a visit to the office and I was assured that the batteries were on their way, would arrive in the afternoon and they then successfully plundered my card for the full amount.

Thinking that a visit to the supermarket would be prudent, I tried to find the one I remembered in the Marina. Such is the level of deterioration in the Marina that the supermarket and even the MacDonald’s have shut. Asking at the first bar outside the marina confines, the helpful proprietor was just leaving and offered to drive me to the supermarket over a mile away. He cautioned me to stay on the main road on my walk back and not cut through Ostia, a maze of seedy apartment blocks where he said it was unsafe due to gangs, the mafia and gypsies, robberies and murder were apparently regular occurrences. He blamed the Marina problems on the mafia but suggested it was improving. I was charged 65.50 Euros a night for the berth and there were no seats on the toilets – I think that is a form of robbery !

My wait was also punctuated by the arrival of two charming officials from the ‘Guardia di Finanza’ who had mistaken Hejira’s defaced RVYC (Royal Victoria Yacht Club) special ensign as that of a dodgy offshore country flag of convenience. Checking the rules for flying the special RVYC ensign when abroad, there is the following recommendation – ‘Foreign Cruises: When cruising in Foreign  waters a Yacht for which a permit to wear a Special Ensign has been issued should take care to avoid any action which might result in complications with a Foreign Power’. – was this a complication? Checking my paperwork and filling out copious forms convinced them that Hejira is British registered, VAT paid and currently has EU rights of passage. I dread to think what will happen if we Brexit. The officials were actually most courteous but refused a photo for the blog citing ‘National Security’!

I am very aware that the battery saga has been going on a bit and anyone who has stuck with it is probably glazing over by now, so, suffice it to say that the batteries arrived, the wrong capacity, the wrong terminals and doubtful spec. They apologised for the mistake and offered to replace them but it would take some time. With some adjustments and compromises I have made do with what they supplied but I think I have been royally shafted! Maybe the mafia still have a hold over the marina after all – they are known for extortion.

It is 275 miles from here to the Straits of Messina between the toe of Italy and Sicily and I am anxious to tackle it in the light. Not only is there heavy shipping, ferries and fishing boats, there are currents and strong winds between the mountains so I will need my wits about me. At an average pace, it will take 55 hours to get there so I am planning to leave at 06.00 tomorrow, Thursday.