Tuesday, June 21, 2016
Coming to Copenhagen
Before we start our sailing each summer, we like to fly into a part of Europe that we haven’t seen and somewhere we are unlikely to bring the boat. For 2016, we decided to fly into Copenhagen. What a beautiful city. It reminded me of Amsterdam. There are canals running throughout the city. First built as a defense for the city, they later became an important key in making Copenhagen a center of commerce. The name of the city comes from the Danish word , Køpmannæhafn. Hafn means harbor. Copenhagen literally means merchant’s harbor.
One of the first things we did was jump on a canal boat to get an overall feel for the city. Low bridges, three story homes stacked together like colorful books on a crowded library shelf line both sides of the canals. The public buildings are fanciful and often crowned with spires that look like they came from some enchanted kingdom. It is as if someone strung interesting shapes and skewed them all together across building tops scattered throughout the city. This is the land of Hans Christian Andersen and the city has a feel of a child’s fairy tale. You gotta love a city where the main parliament building tower looks like it is made out of solid chocolate. Or a church that has a winding staircase wrapped around it’s steeple allowing worshipers to literally climb the stairs to heaven and view the city below. Or a government building that has three dragons tails weaving to gather to form the spire.
And of course, this enchanted city needs a mythical amusement park right in the center of town. Tivoli Gardens built in 1843, a full century before Disneyland was even conceived. It is the perfect fun filled centerpiece for this city. While it has been updated and changed over the past century, the park still manages to retain an old world charm about it’s rides. The locals tell us that everyone has an annual pass and spend many a long summer night hanging out there. They call it the cities backyard.
And every far far away land would not be complete without a population that was equally enchanting. The Danes are so kind and so helpful. It is completely understandable why Denmark is ranked as one of the most livable countries in the world. Now if they could just warm the place up a little. It was freezing there all week. The Danes say there are no cold cities, just bad choices in clothing.
Killing Time at Kalkara
When we anchored in the Grand Harbor, we were right next to the small community of Kalkara. It is not more than a big church, and a few assorted mom and pop stores. We grew to love the community and they took us in as well. We befriended an older guy one afternoon at the local cafe. He told us that no matter what, we had to be here for their town festival. Each town no matter how small has a two day festival honoring and celebrating the town patron saint. And celebrate they do. They spend weeks hanging garland, lights and banners throughout the town. Then life size sculptures made from wood and painted in faux marble are places along the main street. Overwhelming firework displays the likes of which, I have never ever seen before, are prepared for the celebration. A feast is prepared and on the night of the rivalry, not one, but two bands march through the town, calling all the people like modern day Pied Pippers as the town folks fall behind as the bands winds through the village,leading them to the central square. Music is playing, dancing in the street, consession stands filled with carnival food, fireworks going off and town revelry continue into the wee hours of the morning. Our friend from the cafe finds us and takes us under his wing to explain what all this means and to share in its display of majesty. He is rightfully proud of the display of devotion to their patron saint. It was a night I will never forget. And this happens in virtually every town, large and small throughout the summer. Malta has 10 firework companies supplying the population for their thirst for bombardment displays. There were very few evenings during the entire summer that we didn’t see fireworks both near and far dotting the darkened sky.
Plunging into St Peter’s Pool
Another favorite anchorage was near St Peters Pool on the south part of Malta. Large slabs of smooth rock make an ideal place for the young and beautiful to spend the afternoon. All are dared to jump off the 15 foot cliff into the cobalt blue sea below. But none do it better than Peppi and his loyal dog. An older guy with a deep tan potbellied body, and heavy gold chain around his neck. He doesn’t hesitate to casually walk to the rim to dive with grace off the high cliff into the pool. But equally fearless is his pint size terrier who in sync with his owner also plunges to the depths below. If they ever have an Olympic event of synchronized dog/man diving, Peppi and his dog have a running chance to accumulate more gold for around his neck.
Months on Malta
We spent the summer of 2015 idiocy dropping anchor in one beautiful bay after another. The three islands of Malta are so small we could easily sail around the whole country in a single day. So for most of the summer we would only unfurl our jib to take us to the next secluded bay or we would arrive too quickly.
We definitely had our favorite anchorages. Certainly the Grand Harbor is one of the most amazing natural harbors anywhere in the world. And slicing through the center of this Grand Harbor is the peninsula that makes up the capital city of Valetta. The summer there is full of culture, art, performances and festivals. And the church of St John is not to be missed. From the outside it looks like a simple fortress-like church with little adornment. But step through the vestibule and you are transformed into an international display of grander and wealth. Each of the niches that surround the main alter was gilded to the maximum by the 7 countries that made up the Knights of St John. The niches became a source of national pride as each country tried to outdo the other in showing off wealth and artistic devotion to Christ.
Magnificent Malta by Knight
We spent the summer of 2015 sailing the small island country of Malta. Strategically placed between Africa and Europe, these three islands of barren limestone has been a country the world powers have wanted to control for centuries. While there is evidence that Malta has been inhabited for over 5,000 years, it’s modern history includes occupation by the Greeks, Phoenicians, Romans, Spanish, French, English and many others throughout the centuries. Generally, whoever controlled Sicily, also controlled Malta.
Perhaps the history that Malta is most known for is when the Knights of St. John took possession of these small islands. After the fall of Jerusalem during the crusades, the knights went to Rhodes and set up a fortress. But in 1522, a 6 month siege by Suleiman the Magnificent and his force of 100,000 (some sources say as many as 200,000) men captured the knights. The knights were allowed to leave Rhodes, on the condition that they never attack the Ottomans again. Without a home, they wandered for a couple of years until Charles 1 of Spain offered them the Island of Malta in exchange for a falcon to be paid each year as rent. Just as in Rhodes, the Knights of St John built great fortresses to protect themselves from invading forces. And as soon as they had their fortress in place they once again started plundering Suleiman’s trade ships. The result of the knights breaking their promise culminated in one of the most incredible stories of a military beating unbeatable odds. Suleiman and his 40,000 troops attacked this fortress against 700 knights and 8,000 soldiers. What looked like an easy victory for the Turks ended up being an agonizing defeat. After months of fighting, only 600 men on Malta were left that could bear arms. But seeing no hope of victory, Suleiman sailed back to Turkey with only 15.000 troops. The rest of his once confident army were all dead, lying at the bottom of the walled city fortress.
Reminders of Malta’s past warring siege surrounds us. Sitting on my boat in the Grand Harbor, I can easily see Fort Elmo that held off for months with just a couple hundred men. As I look to the east, I see St Michaels church surrounded by the strong fortified walls that served as a refuge and final holding position that in the end defeated the greatest army of it’s day. At noon every day, they still fire off cannons to commemorate their great victory over the Turks.
It Takes a Village
We are back in Sicily after a wonderful winter in San Francisco. There is much work to be done before we can start sailing. It seems less dirty than usual. We are told that there was a lot of rain this winter. Perhaps that rain was enough to keep the Sirocco winds carrying red Sahara sand from staining the boat as much as usual. There is still plenty to do: raising the sail, inflating the tender, servicing the engines, and mostly scouring the boat from top to bottom. And by bottom, I mean scraping both hulls free of the season’s crop of barnacles and assorted sea life. I do a rough scraping here at the marina. It will take a couple of weeks when we are anchored out to get the keel completely clean.
Among our many projects, I wanted to put a new layer of rubber on the front of the tender where it had rubbed over the years. So I get a list together of what I needed.
There is a little hardware store here in Marina di Ragusa that I get these kinds of supplies. An elderly couple run the place. Neither one speaks a word of English. But there is usually a young woman who is able to figure out what I want. Well this year she was nowhere to be found. So I talk to the wife of the owner. With the help of the rest of the customers and through the talents of pantomime, they figure out that I am looking for some kind of glue. What I was looking for was contact cement. I even knew the Italian for it, contacto cemento. Yeah I am not making that up. But the elderly couple only speak Sicilian. Even Italian is not working. And I am beginning to doubt that I am even asking for the right thing in Italian. I had no idea how many kinds of glues they can have in a hardware store. They brought out maybe 15 different glues, none of which were contact cement.
At that point, I pretty much gave up and continued down my shopping list. Just when I was about to pay for everything, one of the customers who had been doing most of the translation presents me with a can of contacto cemento. Yeah I had it right. I have them open up the can just to be sure. And thank everyone profusely for all of their help. Each one of the people there played a dramatic role in this endeavor. The guy that was doing most of the translating good-naturedly says I owe him 10%. Well somehow the elderly woman completely understood what he was saying. She looks at me and draws her baby finger from her eye down her cheek. You don’t have to be in Sicily too long to understand the signal. She is in good humor, giving me the sign that her customer is in the mafia.
I gather all my items and pay for them. But before I can leave, the woman goes behind the counter and gives me a big bag of fresh tomatoes from her garden. You gotta love Sicily. The people here are what I love most about the island. They are always so kind, patient and willing to help. It feels like we are home again.
Night Crossing
We needed to make the crossing from Sardinia to Sicily. It is about 150 nautical miles, which we calculated would take about 24 hours if we motored at full speed. We timed our departure from Sardinia at 9 a.m. so that we would arrive in Sicily during the daylight hours the next day. The winds were strong, about 20 knots and the waves were big, about 6’. If the wind and waves were coming directly at us, we would have had to wait for calmer weather. But because the winds were at our back, the sailing was fantastic. And the waves end up pushing the boat forward. When the waves are that big and coming from behind, the boat actually surfs the waves and accelerates the boat as it slides down the wave. Queue Beach Boys music, and it makes for a great time. We averaged close to 9 knots under sail and even got up to 14 knots at one point, which is actually twice as fast as the engine speed. The sailing was so good that when we finally did put on the motor as night fell, we had to slow down the engine speed so that we wouldn’t arrive in Sicily before daylight.
Just when we were leaving Sardinia, we saw a flamingo in flight cutting close to the sea. Their long necks and dangly feet stretch out like a baseball player sliding into home plate. For some reason there are big flocks of flamingos in Sardinia. We had seen them before. This was to be the beginning of a very magical 24 hours.
As if to escort our boat on its passage, a pod of dolphins came over to play. They played right between the pontoons, swimming and jumping in unison like a well-rehearsed act at Marineworld. I think we have seen more dolphins this summer than ever before. Each time it is a memorable experience. These gentle mammals love interacting with humans. I always feel a spiritual connection to them.
I have heard of whales in the Mediterranean, but in the 8 years of sailing the Mediterranean, it seemed more like a mythical promise right up there with unicorns. I don’t even think I have met someone who has actually seen a whale. But it happened. It was in the early afternoon. Right off our portside bow, about 100 feet from the boat, we saw a waterspout. Then another one and we could make out the back of the whale just breaking the surface. It was so close, as thrilled as I was, I have to admit that I had thoughts of this whale coming up underneath the boat and having a very bad ending to our crossing. Then the whale rose up, exposing his huge gray body, turned slightly on his side and plunged back into the sea with his massive tail slapping the water as if it was waiving a final good bye. We hoped that we would get one more good look at it, as I ran down to get my camera, but that was the end of the show. Wow. One of the most amazing things I have ever seen while sailing.
This wasn’t to be the last of our amazing encounters while making the crossing. We knew that we would have to take turns during the night keeping watch. So I decided to lie down for a little nap. While I was sleeping, Steve spotted a huge sea turtle. We have seen them before over here, but he was surprised to see one so far out to sea. They are huge, about 3 feet across.
While we were half way across, a hawk circled the boat and landed on top of the mast. This bird was exhausted, and we were the only option he had. The natural shifting of the boat in the wind made it difficult for this poor hawk to find a comfortable place to rest. He would try a spot for a few minutes, on top of the jib, on top of the radar, on the jib line, even in the jay sling, but each time it would knock him around just a little too much and he would circle around looking for a more stable position. It seemed like the most stable places were also the ones closes to us. He finally settled on the cross brace supporting the radar, took a break and then was off hoping to complete the rest of his journey. At this point we were probably 12 hours from any land in all directions. Hope he made it.
An exciting day as darkness spread across the sky. One by one, the pinpoint stars pricked the black skies until we could see more stars than can be imagined. The sliver of the moon set early, at about 11pm, which made the night sky even darker. The Milky Way extended from horizon to horizon and truly was milky as billions of stars appeared.
What we also saw is luminescent sparkles lighting up a trail of water behind the boat. We have seen this before in the Med. Plankton that when disturbed light up briefly creating a look of fairy dust as the water is swished around. I think one of the most enchanting things I have ever done here in the Med is swim at night when these plankton are present. Each stroke of the hand lights up a trail of glitter. Each kick of the feet sends a trail of sparkle. While it is a bit creepy swimming at night with no light, you are soon overwhelmed by the beauty of this natural light show.
Then an even more mystical phenomenon. Big glowing balls started to appear at the back of the boat as well. They would pop out in groups and sometimes individually. It was like a nerf gun was blasting these spheres of light. Some were small, about 4 inches across, and some were rather large, about 10 inches across. Turns out, they were jellyfish that also are luminescent when disturbed by turbulence. The combination of the fairy dust plankton and round balls of glowing jellyfish really was something so unexpected and something that you could only have seen at night time. I tried to photograph them, but only got a black screen.
Ok if that wasn’t magical enough, later in the night we saw long streaks of light coming up next to the boat. It was two more dolphins swimming next to us. Because of the luminescent plankton they were completely lit up like they were encrusted with twinkling diamonds. A trail of light made by their tails slapping in the water followed them. How much better could this night crossing have been.
As morning broke, we saw first a glow fading the night sky that evolved into a spectacular sunrise. In the distance, we could see the islands that are right off the coast of Sicily near Trapani. A thin haze hid the mainland for an hour until it too dissolved and the shores of our destination appeared. This crossing ended up being one of the highlights of summer. I will never forget it.
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