Vis to Pescara

Vbroska to Vis

Hvar to Vbroska

We had heard many favourable reports about Vbroska, and as we were in need of water and electricity this was an attractive choice of marina for an overnight.

Once we had finished the last work telephone calls on Friday evening we slipped free of the mooring buoy in Hvar and headed clockwise around the island.

We anchored overnight in Uvala Vira on the north side of the peninsular. The mooring buoys were all taken, so we anchored stern-to in a small inlet on the eastern shore.

The bay is not particularly attractive, with deep water, and a (presumably naturist) campsite on the central headland with stone mole to protect the campers' dayboats.

In the morning we witnessed an amazing spectacle over breakfast:

A middle-aged man, naked and apparently alone on a 44 foot motorboat, slipped his mooring buoy, and let the boat gently drift out to sea.

He then jumped off the transom and disappeared into the water. The boat continued to drift in the morning breeze out toward the open water. Visions of Reggie Perring and Robert Maxwell came to mind. The man swam to the shore and sat in the morning sun watching the boat drift further away. After twenty minutes of this, the onboard friend must have finally woken up, and the engines burst in to life. I never managed to see how the story ended...

After breakfast we sailed out of the bay into a freshening breeze in the Hvarski Kanal.

Vinogradisce to Hvar

Hvar has received a bad press from many who visit, but we were pleasantly surprised.

We motored around from Vinogradisce, through the narrows, and picked up one of the mooring buoys on the NW entrance to the bay. From this location it was easy to motor to the main quayside in the rib, without being too close to the hustle and bustle of the town.

The fuelling jetty in the eastern bay was shallow, inaccessible and crowded. I resorted to transporting across couple of 25L jerrycans in the rib, which was timeconsuming but doable.

Hvar may have benefited from being out of season, but we enjoyed the holidaymaker atmosphere, and Maria loved the shopping, and bought a pile of Hvar made custom shirts and tops. I was sceptical at the time, but as the months have passed, I have realised how good quality were her purchases.

We had a few work issues to contend with whilst we were Hvar, so we found it very helpful to use the the outside terrace of the Riva Hotel on the quayside as a temporary office. The free Wifi definitely justified the consumption of a few club sandwiches and a few Campari sodas after sundown.

Although the bustle of the town was enjoyable during the day, the quality of food suffered from the ready market of tourists, and we were glad not to have moored too close to the late night revellers.

We have not yet visited either Starigrad or Korcula, so we hope that these will turn out to keep the best aspects but lose the worst of Hvar.

Scedro to Vinogradisce

We left Manastir with a vow to return.

It was time to checkout the ACI marina at Palmizana, reprovision, and to check emails etc.

The passage from Scedro to Palmizana was uneventful, but pleasant.

Komiza to Scedro

With our formalities completed we left Komiza and navigated the south coast of Vis enroute to Scedro. There is very little written about this coastline, so we explored and documented the coves and bays along the way.

Scedro

We love Scedro. We particularly love Manastir, and Pablo's little restaurant and harbour.

As arrived in the narrow creek, and tied up to the innermost mooring buoy, Pablo and his son motored out to us to advise that a Bora was forecast overnight. They helped us to secure a heavy warp to the next mooring buoy, and to take further lines ashore. In the calm shelter of the creek, it was hard to imagine that this would be necessary, but we had still to experience our first Bora.

We relaxed and swam in the late afternoon, and then motored the tender ashore for a meal at Pablo's little open air restaurant.

There was little sign of wind, and the forecast appeared to have been a false alarm. Pablos wife described the menu options, all fish caught that day by Pablo, and we chose fresh grilled seabass for Maria, and grilled Calamari for me.

Pescara to Vis (Komiza)

After August at the beachclub, we finally set sail for Croatia. We leave early evening, and watch the sun set behind the Abruzzese mountains as slide eastwards.

In August I had installed an AIS receiver, linked to our heads-up chartplotter. As darkness falls we are able to watch the tracks of the stream of shipping moving up, down, and across the Adriatic. I am glad we have the added security, and sleep more easily as Maria helms through her watch.

As dawn breaks we can begin to see the first Croatian island, Svetac, on the horizon. I am keen to arrive at Komiza, our destination, but the hours crawl past as we in our way past Svetac and then Bisevo.

Finally the peaks each side of Komiza become clear, and an early fishing boats points the way into harbour.

We have arrived.

Tremiti to Pescara - Home!

The 60 nm passage from the Tremiti Isles to Pescara was slow and tedious. For some reason this home run just seemed that it should be short and pleasant. As the nearest point of real interest sailing from Pescara, I didn't envy the Italians who sail here from Pescara to the Tremiti for the weekend.

Eventually the familiar coastline south of Pescara appeared, and we closed on the marina.

Curiously, the channel entering the marina has an uncharted row of red-orange buoys in the centreline. There are no corresponding green buoys. Is this a separation line for vessels leaving and entering? or a set of badly chosen port-hand markers? We dawdle outside the entrance until a local passes us and show the way. They are port hand markers necessary because the entrance has silted. Its a shame they couldn't buy some proper navigation marks!

The wind had freshened, and there is a strong crosswind in the marina as we enter. Many yachts and powerboats had chosen the day for a family outing, and they all are returning at the same time, unable to deal with the crosswind. The marina staff are running from berth to berth to help with the mooring. It is bedlam.

I assume, after our adventures, that I should be able to bring us into the berth without too much drama. However, the channels between moored yachts are narrow, and the crosswind down the channel is strong.

On my first attempt to moor, I reverse up the channel too cautiously, and am blown sideways as slow to turn into the narrow berth. I abort and try again.

This time I judge the speed and angles correctly and we slide comfortably between our two neighbours. Unfortunately, there is only one slimeline - on the downwind side. A helpful passer-by lifts the slimeline, in a frequently useful manner, but lifts it very close to the hull. I have to give a burst of ahead to stop us from hitting the concrete pontoon. The burst leaves us correctly positioned, but the slimeline has disappeared under the boat as the wind carries usslightly downwind. With stern lines attached, I try to give some forward thrust to attach the bow line. The engine stalls. The heavy slimeline has wrapped the prop.

It seems like an inauspicious arrival, as I don divers mask to investigate the problem. It is indeed a rope wrap, but after a few attempts I clear it without damage.

We have, at last arrived at our home port.

Vieste to Tremiti Islands

Our day of departure from Vieste brought a 15-20 kt northerly breeze. I climbed the hill to the castle to watch a Jeanneau 44 strugle through the chop at the entrance to the harbour. As today we must sail with Gabriella, our two year old daughter, and my elderly mother aboard, the breeze is unwelcome.

We depart without incident however, and the choppy seas that we motor through are made less frightening by the sunny conditions, and the warmth of the water as spray flies over the deck. In the event Gabriella enjoys the rollercoaster road, encouraged by playful words from my mother.

The winds continue until mid afternoon as we close on the Tremite.

The pilot books warn of poor holding, so we elect to pick up a mooring buoy in the main channnel. The boatman stings us for 40 euros, but it is better to be secure and sheltered with the family aboard, and to be able to watch the frenzied activity around us with equanimity.

The main car ferries from the mainland arrive and depart regularly, and pass at speed through the crowded anchorage. They manouvre to dismbark stern-to in a channel little wider than their length. This is achieved by noisily dropping the bow ancher, whist still underway, and reversing at high revs to swing the stern towards the slip. There is little room for error, but despite all of the commotion, the crews are expert at the manouvre.

As night falls, the islands around us form an idylic haven far from the mainland.

Trani to Vieste

Bari to Trani

Otranto to Bari

For some reason: maybe the pilotbook references were not good, or it felt too short a days passage ; but I chose not to stop at Brindisi, and to make further progress along the coast to Mola di Bari or Bari itself.

This was a mistake.

Shortly after we passed Brindisi, the sea became thick with "Sargasso"-like swirling regions full of vegetation, branches and complete trees floating. At first we were able to continue to motor around the clusters, but the pollution became more and more dense. After an episode of the propeller smashing through a tree trunk, and the rudder becoming entangled in branches, it was clear that we could motor no longer. Once we had cut ourselves free, and checked that the prop had suffered no apparent damage, we continued, slowly, under sail in light airs. This continued for around four hours, in which we covered no more than 6 miles. Eventually the forest began to clear, and we were able to motor, with careful bow lookout, at a couple of knots.

As we had now lost a lot of time, night was drawing near. The prospect of motoring at night through forest-soup was unattractive, so I targetted one of my alternate planned ports at Villanova di Ostuni.

This was another mistake.

The port was small and full of small craft, with obviously no room for us. There was no response to VHF enquiries. We could not safely moor inside, and we could not safely continue. I chose to anchor in the narrow inlet Cala St Maria Rita directly to the east of the port. The conditions were calm, with calm weather forecast as we settled down for the night. Unfortunately around 01:30 am a heavy swell began to roll into the unprotected inlet. We rolled beam to beam all night to the sound of waves breaking on the rocks a few yards each side of us.

At first light we made our escape.

Corfu to Otranto

It was a welcome change to make a daytime crossing. Most of our recent crossings have been too long to risk a morning departure, and we have departed as evening fell.

On this occasion, we slid out of Ag Georgiou on a calm and misty morning, and navigated the rocky coastline with just the odd returning fishing boat for company.

As we passed the small Greek Island of Otonoi (last stop before Italy) we investigated the small harbour for future refence before continuing the passage.

The large mobile phone mast on the NW tip of the island gave an excellent Italian TIM mobile signal across the strait of Otranto until a direct Italian signal was available.

The crossing to Otranto was short (45nm) and straitforward, but required a careful watch for the heavy commercial traffic entering and leaving the Adriatic through the straits. It was at this point that I decided to invest in an AIS!

On arrival the port of Otranto was very attractive, but the mooring pontoons behind Molo St Nicola were all full. We fueled at the jetty, and anchored in the outer harbour, just off the beach to the NW. It was a beautiful setting, and a pleasant night, though the anchorage would have been very exposed to easterleys.

Early in the morning we set sail north.

Crotone to Corfu

Crossing the Ionian

After a week in port waiting for our replacement windlass motor, we were finally fixed and shipshape by late afternoon.

Without delay we made our final preparations and slipped out of harbour into the evening light.

We motored eastwards through calm waters, as the sun set behind the Calabrese mountains behind us. It felt good to be back at sea, and to be pursuing a new adventure as we slowly clocked up the miles towards Greece.

Once we had left behind the coastal fishing boats the night was long and dark. There was little shipping, and just the phosphorescence of the wake behind us to break the monotonous calm.

I went below to sleep, leaving Maria with a midnight watch. Before long Maria's calls woke me and I emerged in the cockpit to find the lights of a large fish processing vessel on our tail, that had been shadowing us for half an hour.

Who was she? Why was she following us - out of interest, for company in this empty expanse of sea, or just a mercenary concern that we might be fishing their (or a better) patch? Eventuall she accelerated past us and disppeared into the distance.

As usual , I took the early hours watch through to the dawn. On this occasion the cool grey waters yielded no display of dolphins or other welcoming friends. After the baking heat of Crotone, the freshening breeze was noticeably cooler than was had experienced over the previous months.

As the morning progressed the first Greek Islands appeared on the horizon, and we inched our way towards them.

Roccela Ionica to Crotone

We left Roccela at first light, on the first calm morning, in company with a French cruising club who were destined for the Greek Islands. It made an unsual site for these waters to see more than a dozen yachts in company set sail under spinnaker.

The morning and early afternoon provided gentle sailing, alternating between motorsail and sail as the wind varied between 3 and 6 knots.

Mt Etna to Roccela Ionica

We suffered a rolly night anchored off Taormina, and were happy to make an early start to head north back under the toes of Italy.

In clear skies, with a shroud of vulanic fumes, Etna was a majestic sight over our transom as we motored north.


The early day was a typical calm mixture of Force 1-3 patches, with alternating motoring, motor sailing, and sailing. A good breeze carried us through the late morning.

Throughout this coastline we had excellent mobile and broadband coverage. Maria spent much of the day completing month end invoicing for the business in her floating office. This is the life!

We began to come across other yachts on our or a reciprocal course around these southern shores. French, British, American, Belgian, Scandinavian, Austrian and other ensigns passed throught the day. In common with our experiences over the period, the one nationality not to be found in these Italian waters were Italians.

Bagnara Calabria to Mt Etna

Today we brave the Straits of Messina.

With mythical stories of Scylla and Charybdis, and ships that disappeared without trace; and with real stories of congested waters and tidal bores, we set sail into legend.

In reality, we enjoyed a relaxed day sailing with no greater hazards than a typical summmer day on the Solent.

The morning began with calm sun, as we motored into the straits, past the long-nosed tuna fishing boats. We kept a close watch for the fast moving shipping and ferries, as the wind began freshen up. By midday we were broad reaching in string force 5, and slapping our way through the confused short chop that had developed through the channel. Areas of standing waves and tidal whirlpools were evident, but nothing more that we had experienced in the past.

Vibo to Bagnara Calabria

Camerota to Vibo Valentia

We left Marina di Camerota with a large and noisy flea in our ear.

When we had reconnoitered the port at easter, it had been a quiet and charming village. Unfortunately, to lure a large catchment of camp-site dwellers and teenagers an enormous stage had been set up next to the port prior to our arrival. Our first night had been marred by stage sound checks until the early hours. Our night prior to departure on our long leg to Vibo was due to be the real event!

We settled down to sleep early, at 8:00 pm, in the expectation of a disrupted night before our planned 05:00 departure. The music started around 22:00 and was loud enough to vibrate the cabin walls. By 02:00 we had had enough. We slipped our lines and escaped into the blackness.

The noise and flashing lights of the concert followed us for hours into the night.

Amalfi to Camerota

Procida to Amalfi

Circeo to Procida

We enjoyed our stay at Circeo. Without doubt it is another millionaires toy shop, filled with 50 foot plus motor boats. Somehow though the local restaurants and environment retain a charm. We ate here the best platter of mussels we have ever eaten.

We queued up to refuel at the small and crowded fuel jetty. There is only 1m of depth close in so we entered alongisde the pier bows-to. As we were waiting in norrow channel, manourevering for and aft to avoid the congestion, I noticed the temperature gauge heading relentlessly upwards. I realised that the whistleing alarm as we had reversed into the mooring as we arrived had not been just an anomaly as the engine shut down but a real problem. Help!. Our first engine scare and we were only one day into a thousand mile passage!

I checked the coolant header tank, which was bone dry. Was there a major problem , or had we just lost water slowly over the course of out thrash down from Triaino? I felt a fool that I had not checked the engine during the passage down. I consoled myself that on an unknown vessel, anything could go wrong and I could not constantly check every risk area. Nevertheless, I now meticulously checked every part of the boat. Further hours on the engine showed no sign of water loss.

Riva to Circeo

We begin our "circumnavigation" of Italy in typical British weather. Cold, wet, windy and dank. We sneak out of Riva di Traiano marina as the first glimmers of light cross the horizon, and head south for an 80 mile blast to Circeo.

We were not allowed to leave Traiano until daylight, but the harbour at Circeo has told us that we must arrive by 17:00, as the ormeggiatori (harbour staff) all leave at that time. We have eighty plus miles to cover in eleven hours which is going to be difficult. We have a headwind and a 1m chop to motor against to add to the fun. Today will be a good test of the engine!

In the event, we motor and motorsail at over seven knots all day. The sun finally begins to break through the leaden skies as we pass Nettuno, and we feel the first warming rays of summer. Thankfully, this turns out to be the last day of winter, and serves only to remind us for the rest of the passage of the weather that we have left behind in the UK.

We arrive off Circeo in sunshine at 16:45, and feel our way into to densely packed harbour, passed two yachts that had run aground. With a few more desparate VHF calls, we see one of lads waving us in to a berth. Our first days passage is complete.

Riva di Traiano

Isola di Giannutri

Porto Ercole

With no room to remain in Cala Galera after launch, we are required to be at sea two hours after we first board Dolce Vita on the water. There is little margin for error or unforseen problems. Thankfully, the cantiere (boatyard owner) where Dolce Vita had been ashore, also owns pontoons in the prestigious Porto Ercole nearby.

We tentatively motored out of the harbour, and enjoyed our first hours afloat.

Launch Day

After all the various trials and trubulations, this the day!

I hope she floats... I hope the engine starts...

We Find Dolce Vita

Many of the best discoveries happen by chance, and so it was with Dolce Vita.

I has located a number of Bavaria 390s, mainly the 4 cabin charter layout designated the "Carabic", and a few more remote examples of the more highly prized 3 cabin owner version - the "Lagoon". Prior to flying to Spain to view an apparently attractively priced Lagoon, I took my wife to see a standard 390 in Tuscany so that she could begin to visualise the layout and type of boat that I was considering.

Astonishingly, as I climbed aboard and went to view the aft cabins, it was clear that hidden under the piles of cushions, there was only one large aft stateroom. This was a Lagoon in disguise!

The 390 Lagoon in Spain was in a sorry condition, and I did not have the stomach for the expensive refitting that would be required. I returned to Italy, and promptly made an offer for Dolce Vita. After due haggling she was ours.

The Bavaria 390 Lagoon

Unusually, for a 40ft yacht with good sailing characteristics, the 390 Lagoon has an enormous aft stateroom with equally impressive ensuite heads and showeroom. Apart from a late model Moody 42, which was outside our price range, no other yacht I had seen would provide such luxurious liveaboard accommodation.

I began to research existing owners, and found that all owners, existing and past, were full of praise for the boat. In 1990, Bavaria were a low volume production high quality yard, and the 390 cost substantially more than the equivalent Moody or Westerley of the day. Subsequently as Bavaria moved into volume production, the brand image suffered, together with the residual values of early Bavarias. As a consequence, to the uninformed, the early series Bavarias are considered as if they were merely the current cheaply constructed volumes boats but older. To those in the know, the early Bavarias were innovative and well constructed boats devalued by later changes in the brand.

Boat Selection

Inevitably, with wife and daughter and limited funds, the choice of boat would be a compromise.

I could choose a small single-handleable yacht with limited accommodation - but that would become a self-fulfilling description and I would likely be day-sailing alone whilst my wife relaxed on the beach.

My ideal would be find a vessel capable of acting as a liveaboard (and workaboard) over the summer season, that would be seaworthy and enjoyable to sail, whilst providing the home comforts and luxuries necessary to make life aboard appealing.

After much searching I came across my first images of the Bavaria 390 Lagoon.

The Adventure Begins

After ten dry years, the circumstances finally evolved that would allow me to be afloat once more. Our house in Italy was acceptably complete, our business was ticking along, and our young daughter was due, at three, to start school in the autumn.