I had hoped to visit some of northern Africa, especially Morocco and Algeria but Covid put paid to that. North African countries had stayed locked down. But here I am in Sicily, life isn't too tough. I picked a bay at random that appeared to have anchorage and tucked in for a sleep. Next day I met my neighbor, pleasant man sailing a big piece of French Plastic Cat. He had a factory in the north, making children's toys of wood. We were the sailing bums among the locals with their motor boats - from latest greatest to old tubs with low powered outboards and some lovely traditional timber boats with small inboards.

The shore from the bay near Taormina was steep to and quite attractive. A mix of contemporary and classic apartment buildings stacked against the rising rock shore. A highway and very modern train threaded their way around buildings and through rock cliffs and then beachfront here and there. I think it would have been an enjoyable ride on the train if their were time and a safe place for BareBones as I went exploring. Oh well… keep moving.

 With a few days rest I made for a fuel dock in the channel between Sicily and mainland Italy. I had left Crete with low fuel as I had not seen a convenient place to get it so topped up. As the passage narrowed the scenery got more interesting, one vessel really caught my eye. What appeared to be a normal fishing boat but with a tower built on it that I would estimate to be over 15 meters tall! WTF? I was later told that they were Tuna hunters. Men below with Rod and Reel while a watcher above spotted the tuna and guided the skipper toward them. I thought I had seen it all in Ambon Harbour in Indonesia. Those Tuna fishermen used a kite to fly with a bait dangling below, just skimming the surface to attract a tuna. I think I covered that in an old edition of TCP after I participated in a Darwin to Ambon Yacht race. I found both techniques remarkable.

Finally I made the 30 miles to the top of the channel where it narrowed and saw a small outboard powered craft taking an illogical course near me that alerted and alarmed me. A familiar pattern. My reaction was too slow and his craft too quick. He passed my bows and left a trail of a toxin for me. I will explain more about this later. A look in TCP number 79, pages 16 and 17 give a hint. It has to do with press freedom, rare health conditions and the price one might pay for exposing corrupt, even criminal actions by those in power in Australia.

 I found our way to Volcano Island off the north coast of Sicily and anchored in the dark in a suspect bottom. I was still feeling ill and never could get sleep but just resting was useful. About 0400 I upped anchor and made west as best I could, pointing as high as BareBones and the autopilot would allow. What I wanted was Gilbralter but I knew I wouldn't make that unless the wind changed in my favour but that was not to happen… after over 200 miles I gave up punching into an increasingly rough sea and changed course to make Sardegna. I found a good, sheltered anchorage and got sleep.

Next morning I put the dinghy in the water and tried starting my outboard motor, tried.. gave up and had another lesson of the carb brand also used on most other modern outboards including my Hondas that power BareBones. The tiniest bit can foul them. Microscopic… I now filter my dinghy motor fuel through coffee filter papers in a funnel as pump fuel will have some little bit of crap that will bring the things to a halt. I learnt my lesson long ago with the Hondas and installed fuel filters that would suit a fair sized diesel engine. Cars do no have this problem using the same fuel. A shitty little inline filter is plenty but noooo…. not for delicate little outboards that use all that same brand of carburetor. Economical but a bit to delicate.

With that out of the way, I used the dinghy for further exploration. Just a look around.

 Next stop was Cartagena. I anchored in the outer harbour just off a swimming beach. Huge rock walls protected the place. From the beginning of time, when the tribes of Europe were first going to sea to fish and then to trade, this was a port. Nature ordained it. For me it was just a pleasant little stop over, a couple hundred miles closer to Gibraltar.

I did one more stop at a port I do not even remember the name so I will use my own… Ratport. I motored into a large man made harbour protected by a long sea wall. The recently made marina was sparsely used. The jettys were set up for alongside but the engineering was very poor. Mooring chains for the floating pontoons were set from the near side outward so the mooring chains were a hazard to the undersides of boats. Thus the few boats there picked the spots between chains. This could have been avoided by simply attaching the chains to the far side of the pontoons.

Whatever… I was tired, it was late, I found a spot where damage from the mooring chains was unlikely and set up a meal and rest…. and then the sound….. what was that? Ignore it and get some sleep… but what is it? For the first time ever BareBones was infested with rats! I spent hours chasing the buggers around with a big rubber mallet. I figured I had won except for the damage to paint in future. I threw the dead rats overboard without even last rights. We were in Spain so I figured even the rats were Catholic…. Needless to say I left the next morning without paying. Weeks later I finally had to trace down some electrical faults. Revenge of the rats. They had chewed part way through a wiring cluster while attempting to enter a provisioning locker. It was a tight spot and miserable to repair. Bastards!

By the next afternoon I made La Linea, the Spanish port behind that big rock. My European adventure was about done and another one soon to come. The Mediterranean was tough sailing at times but except for the last leg little fuel was used. I spent some time fixing leaks and gathering stores, and resting. I wished I would have had more time but was really looking forward to the Atlantic crossing. I had some old friends to look up and some of the islands in the West Indies were semi opened, that is two week quarantine…. No worries, I will take the rest and repair period like a man. I had beer from Spain that would get me by.

But next.. the Canarys!