Trilogy put to bed for winter
19 October 2012 | Olbia, Sardinia, Italy
Brices and Rowlings
John and Garth set off from Palermo at 10.30am 3rd October on Trilogy's last sailing adventure for 2012. The forecast was for light winds and for once it was accurate. We motored sailed all the way from Palermo to Arbatax on Sardinia's east coast, a distance of some 200nms, arriving just after 5pm on the 4th. The only excitement occurred when we were briefly surrounded by four Italian warships, with an aircraft carrier turning into the wind less than a mile away to allow three jump jets to land. We had a very clear view of the jets when they used us as a turning mark to line themselves for their final approach to the carrier.
Next morning we recommenced motor sailing north towards Olbia, our final destination. By early afternoon we had enough wind from the south to justify poling out the headsail, the first time we had had the opportunity for the whole of the Mediterranean season. We found a fabulous anchorage that night inside Capo Coda Cavallo, within sight of Olbia. After an early morning swim for Garth, we berthed at Marina di Olbia around noon. We soon joined Ros and Myra at the Grand Hotel President for a luxurious shower.
Sunday morning saw all four of us descend on the boat and start the long and tedious process of preparing Trilogy for the winter. After a couple of false starts on a couple of subsequent days, we took Trilogy around to Cantieri di Olbia to be hauled out. Naturally we were now experiencing a blustery Mistrale which tested to the full Garth's skills in ferry-sliding Trilogy in to the haul-out pen. She was hauled that afternoon and given a pressure clean. By Thursday morning- now completely windless- she had been chocked and settled in her place where she will stay for some six months.
The night times in Olbia were good compensation however for the hard work during the days. Ros discovered through a combination of Tripadvisor and the very helpful hotel staff, a number of excellent restaurants. So we had roast suckling pig and wild boar in sweet and sour sauce at Barbargia. (The next tables were Australians, some from Canberra.) At another restaurant, Ros had what looked like a giant squid – whole - and we had excellent seafood at another restaurant run by an extended family who ate with us. The best was saved for last - Clippers for its pasta night. The entree was matched with an aperitivo made from prickly pear fruit, called fico d'India here, and was delicious. Then came three plates, each with two small dishes of different pasta, matched with wine, and finally desssert of ravioli filled with myrtle ricotta and vanilla gelato and a liqueur called Drucci. Another gourmet paradise.
And as a farewell from Sardinia, they turned on a choral event for our last night. It was the 18th annual event of sacred music choirsters, and choirs came from near and far. The Moscow and Genoa choirs stayed in our hotel, the latter most elegantly dressed. The evening began with the choirs wandering through the old town, stopping at significant spots like the old Roman road, and singing entertaining songs to the crowd (such “Money cant buy me love” and “Short People” or traditional Sardinian songs that the Italians near us were singing along with, but told us they didnt understand the words as they were Sardinian dialect.) Then they went to Sant Paolo's church, built on top of a Greek temple, where each choir sang sacred music. The choir from Ossetia Alania, in traditional dress, gave the most beautiful performance, but the male Sardinian choirs, singing in a circle, werent far behind in beauty of sound.
We all finally left Trilogy to sleep perchance to dream – parting was such sweet sorrow.
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When John and Myra headed off to Rome for a couple of days, Ros and Garth chose to see a little more of northern Sardinia. The region is a good mix of mountainous granite ridges and fertile valleys, cultivated primarily for wine growing. Tempi was an entertaining inland city, with a lively market and well dressed locals busily enjoying the crisp Autumn morning. A car drive to the top of Monte Limbara (1359m) allowed spectacular views in all directions, but not quite to Corsica, as had been suggested.
The Maddalena Islands were calling, so with the help of the car ferry, we were able to explore Isola La Maddalena and Isola Caprera.
The much revered Garibaldi spent his last 27 years on Isola Caprera, which he bought in two stages from 1855. His home is now a National Museum and has been restored to original appearance. A modest home for a man of his status, it was most interesting to learn of his lifestyle and main activities of agriculture and animal breeding.
The stable was not only for his horses but for his bathtub, as the stable was the warmest place on the farm. The other surprise was the purpose built 'Room of Death' built in 1880, where Garibaldi died on 2nd June 1882, aged 75. In his last days Garibaldi wanted to stay and look over the sea from his bed. The single four poster bed had original white lace edged linen with high bed pillows and light gauze netting creating an insect barrier. The original calendar still marks the day he died and the clock was stopped at the time he died: 6:21pm. Garibaldi suffered from severe arthritis in his later life and had been shot in the right foot in 1862, during the battle at Aspromonte.
We were struck by the suffering Garibaldi must have endured in his final years, with several wheel chair carriages on display and metal cages to keep the covers off his ankle. Set amongst the beautiful gardens, we visited the family tombs, with Garibaldi's grave in the middle of the row beneath a huge Italian Pine. Garibaldi had wanted cremation but at the time this was illegal, so his body was embalmed and buried under a massive piece of roughly hewn granite, with two large rings inserted to lift it into position it. Garibaldi must have loved his horses, for Marsala, aged 30 was buried close to the house and had a magnificent tombstone placed in her honour.
We departed Isola La Maddalena at sunset, the soft earthy colours of the buildings reflected in the azure blue waters beckoning us to return next sailing season.