The
start of a sailing season brings mixed feelings: there is the excitement of
setting sail and the prospect of new lands and new adventures, but also sadness
at saying farewell to so many good friends with whom we share the cruising
life. Of course there is every chance we’ll meet again, in a little fishing
harbour, on a busy town dock or a deserted bay somewhere, to share our stories
and a few cold beers. Ours was a little less tearful than many of the
departures as we knew we’d be back in Licata in about a week. We were making
the trip to Kelibia in Tunisia to avoid being in the EU for more than 18 months
at a time, which would make Common Sense subject
to VAT.
Winds
at the start of the week had been consistently strong west south-westerlies -
just what we didn’t need for the run to the Sicilian island of Pantelleria
which lies about 90 nautical miles directly west south-west of Licata. Sunday
promised light westerlies, so that looked like our best bet. After the
paperwork and all the usual checking and stowing, we slipped out at about 11
am, planning to make Pantelleria the following morning.
It really was a fine start to the season, with sunshine, a great view of the
rugged Sicilian coast, dolphins, a glassy blue sea and a light breeze. The
sails were up and everything seemed to be working, though we did need the motor
on most of the time, chugging away at low revs. At one point the smell of
burning rubber raised anxiety levels, but it proved to be the new fan belt,
which had worked loose and was promptly readjusted by il Capitano. At about the
halfway mark of the passage, we met a fleet of thousands of little jellyfish
with their bells the shape of perfect translucent sails, scudding along with
the wind. A couple of feet below them streamed golden brown jellies with long
trailing tentacles – some mysterious jelly migration was underway.
Sailing jellyfish
As
the sun set we enjoyed our standby sailing meal of pressure-cooker chicken
stew. The temperature dropped steadily and we put on extra clothes layer by
layer, relaxing out in the cockpit under the full moon and the softly glowing
sails. The AIS proved its value yet again as we dodged various vessels and
heard on the VHF that a massive cargo ship was diverting to avoid us.
We took
turns to catch a bit of sleep and were pleased to see the volcanic island of
Pantelleria rising steeply ahead as the sun rose. Around 0800 we tied up in the
Nuovo Porto di Pantelleria, assisted by Leonardo the Harbourmaster and not at
all by the highly unreliable bow-thruster.
(Actually, it can pretty much be relied on NOT to work at the critical
moment.) We had a couple of hours sleep before attempting anything else.
Hot chicken stew
It
proved to be almost impossible to get off the boat via the passareille as the
dock was so high, so we launched Eileen,
our dinghy, and tootled around to the Vecchio Porto which is closer to the town
centre. The outboard didn’t sound too healthy so it was added to our list of
things to check/fix once back in Licata. When they say “vecchio” here, they
mean really old – the port housed the Punic fleet a couple of thousand years
ago and there is still a line of rocks marking the ancient breakwater. It’s an
attractive place; the water is clear and the volcanic soil is rich and well
cultivated. There is a pleasant waterfront for the evening passegiata and the pace of life is relaxed. We enjoyed a wander
around the town and an excellent fish dinner overlooking the old harbour. A
grim note is the large pile of refugee boats rotting away near the new harbour
– how desperate would you have to be to take to sea in some of these?
We
had planned to leave for Tunisia the next day, but some instinct woke Terry
about 1am and he decided this was our window. Any wind at all in the tiny marina space and we would have been in trouble. At 01:30 we slipped out of
the harbour in the bright moonlight with no wind and were suddenly greeted by 15 knots at the turn on the Heads . We enjoyed five or six hours of perfect
sailing conditions before the wind slackened as the sun rose. We motored the
rest of the way, reaching the Tunisian fishing port of Kelibia at about 1030.
First
impressions? Hot, dirty, busy, interesting… There was very little room amongst
all the blue, white and red fishing boats of varying sizes, so we rafted up
next to a big steel ketch, which was in turn rafted next to an even bigger
motor boat undergoing a refit. Habib appeared to give us expert assistance –
and we noticed him magically appear whenever a boat came in and needed to find
a spot or have a line taken. It was quite an event getting on and off the boat,
clambering over lifelines and from one vessel to the next, greeting people in a
couple of different languages along the way.
First priority was checking in and getting all the paperwork in order to show that we had left the EU. A feature of Tunisian ports is that the Foreigner Police are at your boat before you've finished tying up and this was no different. Customs were also summoned and we completed formalities quite quickly. Harbour fees for our three day stay turned out at 54 Tunisian Dinars in total, or something like $9 per day.
First priority was checking in and getting all the paperwork in order to show that we had left the EU. A feature of Tunisian ports is that the Foreigner Police are at your boat before you've finished tying up and this was no different. Customs were also summoned and we completed formalities quite quickly. Harbour fees for our three day stay turned out at 54 Tunisian Dinars in total, or something like $9 per day.
A
bit like going from Greece to Turkey, travelling from Sicily to Tunisia we were
struck by how hard everyone was working – no siestas or “domani” attitude here.
Fishing boats coming and going, the fish markets in full swing, ship repairs,
mending nets, boats being sanded and painted, building underway, buying and
selling, deliveries, market stalls, taxis. The sights, sounds and smells took
us back to our winter in Monastir; the mix of French and Arabic, the smell of
mint tea and harissa, the headscarves, and the donkey carts jostling with brand
new Citroens.
View of Kelibia Harbour from the fort
Pride in the boats, but little care for the sea
The
one thing that really upsets me, however, is the total disregard people have
for the ocean environment. Sure the Med has been a dumping ground for
God-knows-what for thousands of years, but at least it was all organic. And why
is it that fishing harbours and fishermen are the worst? You’d imagine that
people who make their living from the sea would show a bit more respect for it,
but no – every vessel that went out left behind a trail of plastic rubbish,
bits of net, waste fish and a greasy slick of fuel, oil or something worse.
Here begins my Clean Up the Med campaign, which consists of wearing slogan T
shirts, picking up bags and bottles on my kayak runs and ranting in this blog!
Anyway,
we used the opportunity of being in Kelibia to visit the ancient site of
Kerkouane nearby. The town was sacked and pillaged by the Romans when they
destroyed Carthage around 300 BC, but it was not resettled so quite a lot
remains of the Carthaginian buildings, along with interesting artefacts found
in the town and its necropolis. You can walk right around the streets of
the town, observing its homes, artisan quarters and water system. Many of the
homes have intact bathrooms with well designed baths for hygiene and
relaxation. The town has an idyllic location beside the ocean, with gardens and
lawns maintained by a team of local workers – it’s highly recommended for a
pleasant and interesting day out.
We
stocked up on a few specialties – big, cheap cans of Tunisian tuna, harissa
paste, almonds, sweet local bananas – and refuelled while there was no wind in
the early morning (though opening times on the fuel dock appear to be
‘suggested opening times’only.) The fuel cost was 1.25Tunisian Dinars per litre, or 0.61c, a big saving on EU prices.
As we went to present ourselves to the Police to get our passports stamped, we were informed that we had to have a tax stamp of 30TD per person affixed before we could be allowed to go. We were not informed of this until the last minute, and could have picked these stamps up any time in the three days we were there, as we were quite close to the Tax Office regularly. But no, nobody thought to mention it and we had a mad scramble in a taxi to get the stamps. Unfortunately, the Tax Office closes at 16:30 and despite our very courageous taxi driver berating the old grump who ran the Office, he refused to provide the stamps. Luckily, one of the junior employees advised the driver that a Tabac shop in town carried these things so it was off there via an ATM to pick a couple up, at a slight premium to the 30TD. Problem solved, thanks to our quick-thinking driver who was well rewarded.Our last official encounter was an evening visit from Customs just prior to departure. All visiting boats are inspected, particularly for stowaways but also for the usual stuff – cigarettes, alcohol, drugs, firearms. We didn’t have a strong sense that we were being shaken down, but the inspector did dwell on my stash of Italian wine for a while so I asked in French if he liked wine and he said his wife did, so we gave him a bottle as a ‘gift’. Then we were free to go – in fact we had to go at once!! Before we could sneak any illegals on board.
So it was back to sea, slipping out from between yachts rafted either side, and making directly for Licata, 140 nautical miles almost directly due east. We started out well, motoring with assistance from the 10 knot breeze, then zipping along under sail as the north-west wind increased to 20 – 25 knots. This was great, but as we all know, nothing lasts forever. At about 0530 the wind and sea really picked up and we were a little slow to reef the sails. I wasn’t strong enough to winch in the fiercely flapping genoa, and one of its whipping sheets took a great jagged piece out of the clear window of the dodger – a good lesson to never get in the way of uncontrolled lines! The wind was now 40 – 45 knots with quite a high following sea, so Terry pretty much had to hand steer the next fifty miles, surfing down the waves and trying to avoid the sneaky sets that hit side-on. Meanwhile I was down trying to clean up and stow stuff that hadn’t been prepared well enough for these conditions – another lesson there.
Finally the wind eased a bit as sunset approached, and we saw the very welcome heads of the breakwater at Licata ahead. It was wonderful to get into calm water at last, and to tie up safely on our dock. There was a party in progress, but somehow we weren’t quite up to it. I can’t actually recall anything after readying Common Sense for docking, so I guess it mostly involved sleep! So now we have a few fix-ups and repairs before we head off again in a week or so...
We remain faithful to your logs. Best from Seattle, as we crisscross the USA.
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