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Date: 12 Aug 2010 21:18:47
Title: These Boots were made for walking
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39:05.83N 08:17.93E

 

Tuesday 10th, Wednesday 11th and Thursday 12th August.

 

English translations have always been a source of amusement along the way and today Sarah found a sign on the marina’s  toilet (notice the use of the single tense) which said “Please use delicately”.

 

On Tuesday Sarah went off to visit the market and then the supermarket both of which turned out to be pretty good. We gave the hull a good scrub before setting off under sail for a bay on the southern end of San Pietro Island which looked to be well protected.

 

Not surprisingly this like all the other bays was pretty over-subscribed with yachts, motor boats and ribs but we got ourselves tucked in and waited to see who left at the end of the day. Eventually  boats began to leave and there were just three  left in our small bay, but we had our eye on a spot in the adjacent bay which looked a good deal more protected, but there were lots of boats still there until quite late. In the end we stayed where we were but resolved to get up early in the morning and move to the other bay if there was still a suitable spot.

 

There is very little here really, but there is a sandy beach in the main bay which is very popular by day with land based visitors but no shops or other facilities. A big Customs rib made several visits to the bay and each time seemed to pull up people who had taken their dinghies close to the shore. We are aware of a rule in Italy about mooring too close to the shore, but can find nothing that explains what is happening here.

 

On Wednesday morning we got up at 7.15 am and raised the anchor and motored round to the perfect spot in the next door bay as planned. We dropped the anchor pretty much exactly where we wanted and sat back to enjoy all the fun as the hordes arrived during the day. However at 10.30 am just as the boats all started arriving, the Customs boat returned and approached us and explained that we were not allowed to moor within 200 metres of the beach. Now this was an interesting and debatable point as our anchor was most certainly 200 metres off shore, but the wind had dropped and we were lying on the beach side of it (in fact in such clear water we could see we  were hanging directly above our anchor!), so clearly we were in the wrong. If only the usual breeze had picked up a bit earlier or the Customs boat had come later, all would have been well but as it was we had to move and re-anchor just behind the boats that had arrived. During the next few hours over 70 more boats came and dropped their anchors which made for a very busy and packed space. But there was little wind and so the fact that most of these boats had anchors that barely reached the sea bed did not seem to matter and everyone seemed happy enough. The Customs boat returned a few times and it became clear that the rule is about mooring 200 metres off the beach, not the shore. There is a big difference! So we resolved now to move again once the visiting boats had all gone home to a peaceful looking spot next to an American boat and close to the rocky west shoreline, tucked back into the bay in case the wind came up over the next two days.

 

In due course all the boats left and at 6.00 pm we moved back closer to the shore and hope that this time we are OK! Certainly there has been plenty to watch all day with the coming and goings as well as some very nice yachts to admire. Sarah went ashore for an investigative stroll as she is hoping to do a brief shopping trip on Thursday to Carloforte which is the main town on the island, prior to our setting off to Spain on Saturday.

 

Thursday morning I rowed Sarah ashore at 9.00 am, she had finally decided that although the bike ride in would be a doddle, trying to get back across the large expanse of rocks with the bike and shopping tucked under her arm on her return was a bit beyond her.   As all available information (ie the rather gormless car park attendant) indicated that the bus didn’t depart until 11.30am she decided to walk into town about 2 ½ miles away according to the chart plotter and as the crow flies.   This proved to be an brisk walk of one and a quarter hours along a pretty busy road with no shade, and to add insult to injury, the 9.30 bus passed Sarah about 20 minutes into her walk – well, it seemed a good idea at the time!   This exercise was all in aid of saving yet another very expensive stay in the poorly equipped marina at Portoscuso, without even the justification of wifi;  to get a few groceries for the next passage and try and sort out the phone card we had bought.   We had bought the card to ring the boys at home but had failed to get it to work, so Sarah found the main post office (inevitably out of town) to find out what we were doing wrong and to ring and book a berth in Cartegena (Spain) for next week.   She was advised to put more credit on the card and try again – but again to no avail.   We feel that communications of any kind from Sardinia are fairly impossible.

 

Carloforte proved to be a delight:  a very pretty rambling town with multi-coloured houses, even the lime green ones, for once, seemed to merge into the colour scheme.   It also had a bustling harbour with six different pontoons possibly offering berths but all looked very busy and this was despite the fact the majority of the boats must have already left for the extensive bay hopping that goes on here.   The ferries were constantly arriving and departing – no wonder Rod H warns against the ferry surge here – with whistle blowing policemen managing the traffic after a fashion.   Just south of the town and set slightly farther back from the sea were further salt pans which profess to accommodate flamingos – again none were in evidence today (so, no pretty flamingo titles yet!)   Sarah got the grocery shopping done and went to catch the bus.  It seems that no one in Carloforte speaks any English (nor were there any English papers but as throughout the Med, they stock English Vogue and magazines like Hello) but it was indicated to her where the bus left and that she would need a ticket from the next-door Tabac, who it turned out didn’t sell any but said you could pay on the bus!  When the bus did arrive the driver told Sarah and two others they would need a ticket from the  another Tabac which he helpfully pointed out, but this one also professed not to sell them.   Finally running down the main street they found a third Tabac where a good row ensued (the other two passengers were Italian so language was not the issue here) before the owner agreed to sell them tickets and they all three made the bus before it left, in fact it was remarkable that it waited for them throughout this fiasco.  Then to end a fairly fruitless trip, as Sarah got off the bus the heavens opened and she got soaked, as did her trusty boatman!

 

The day stayed distinctly overcast and cool.   Much to my dismay, as there were certainly a few candidates  moored rather too near the beach like us the previous day, the Coastguard’s didn’t put in appearance either – perhaps the rain is too much for their very smart uniforms as their rib is open to the elements?   We spent much of the day with Serafina drifting back and forth over her own anchor and watching the fish in the very still sea, eventually we went for a swim in the evening which became a lovely warm, sunny few hours. After dark I tried my hand briefly at attempting to catch squid, but sadly with no success.

 

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