We spent four days in Obia, worrying about Rick's mother and waiting anxiously for news from home. Rick's brother Al has generously stayed behind in Halifax instead of going to Scotland with June and the boys as planned and he has been giving us daily updates. Christopher and Katherine have also kept in close contact and yesterday we were even able to speak with Rick's mom on the telephone. It was a big relief to hear that she is steadily improving and expected to make a full recovery.

Although the Lonely Planet describes Olbia as a town where there is "precious little to see", it wasn't a bad place to pass some time. There is a long concrete pier where you can tie along side for free, but we opted to anchor just south of the channel and west of the red channel marker. There is good holding here in about 15' of water and thick mud. We discovered later that the bottom is also littered with rocks that can shorten your scope and play havoc with your neighbors when the wind shifts.

I was glad that we weren't in a remote anchorage when I broke a filling in a tooth on Saturday evening. On Sunday morning, we decided to go to the tourist office to inquire about a dentist. Rick also wanted to ask if there was a chandlery in the town. The agent-a German woman who spoke English fluently- was obviously not in a happy mood. She provided us with the name and phone number of a "good German dentist" but was quite skeptical about the possibility of finding marine charts anywhere in Olbia. Also, she mentioned, absolutely everything was closed on Sundays, including the bar next door where she usually buys her morning coffee. When I asked if we could bring her some coffee, she immediately whipped out a notepad, wrote down the Italian phrase for "cappuccino to go" and directed me to a coffee shop about a five minute walk away. There, I was provided with a tiny plastic cup of cappuccino covered only by a paper napkin, with three packages of sugar and a stir stick stacked on top. I had to take baby steps all the way back to the tourism office to avoid spilling it, but when I arrived she was smiling happily and had called all over town trying to locate a chandlery. I didn't have the heart to tell her that I had already found it, right around the corner from the coffee shop.

As luck would have it, Olbia was hit by an intense thunder and lightening storm while I was walking to the dentist the next day. I was drenched to the skin by the time I arrived, but was relieved to find a modern, well-equipped office with a pleasant dentist who spoke very good English. It's odd that almost every time I've broken a filling I've been in a foreign country . When I mentioned this to the dentist, she said "Ah, your teeth have heard many languages!" Half an hour and 120 euros later, I had a brand new filling. If any of you ever have the misfortune to break a tooth in Olbia, I would highly recommend Dr. Isabella Hillis.

The Lonely Planet wasn't quite right about there being nothing to see in Olbia. On the way to the dentist, I had spotted a sign that said "Aquedotta Romana, 1000m" so I decided to check it out before going back to the boat. The road led through a rather bleak industrial area, with garbage strewn along the way- broken glass, water bottles, bits of shredded plastic, a single sequined sandal .Eventually, I arrived at the remains of the aqueduct, which was sitting in a field surrounded by some olive and chestnut trees, with a view of mountains in the distance. By just squinting just a little, I could ignore the ugly apartment building in the foreground. There was no one there but me - kind of a surreal experience.

The next day, we decided to go ashore for lunch. As we struggled with the menu choices, a woman seated at the next table leaned over to offer assistance. Maddie was perhaps in her early sixties, very beautiful and elegant, with thick flowing gray hair and multiple bracelets on her tanned arms. She smoked her cigarettes with the kind of flair that you sometimes see in old movies and that immediately made me want one myself. Her husband Michael (an American) was also very friendly and full of questions about the cruising lifestyle. Their permanent home is in Connecticut, but Maddie had once lived in Sardinia and they were spending the summer in a house in the hills outside Olbia. Maddie was happy to give us the benefit of her knowledge about Olbia and recommended that we try a trattoria on the outskirts of the town for dinner. She drew us a map on a paper napkin and provided a list of the items we should order. As Michael pulled her away from the restaurant, she was still calling out advice on where to buy lavender oil to keep the bugs away. We could hear Michael saying "Maddie, they sailed here all the way from Canada, I'm sure they can figure out how to deal with a few mosquitoes!". We went to the tratorria on our last night in Olbia and had an unforgettable meal- five little plates of mixed seafood as antipasti, followed by a fantastic pasta with tiny vongole clams in oil and garlic and then a fresh fish that had been baked in a crust of salt-all this and more wine than we care to admit, for 50 euros. Molto grazie, Maddie!

Early the next morning, we pulled in to the yacht club's fuel dock to fill up with diesel and water. The only person on the dock was an elderly woman in full face makeup, with dyed hair in a French twist, wearing a pair of platform jeweled mules and a colourful button-up cotton dress that looked suspiciously like the bathrobe Mom wears in summer. As I jumped onto the dock with the spring line, I wondered what on earth she was doing on a fuel dock at that hour of the day. Much to my surprise, she picked up a permanent line from the dock, held it between the tips of two fingers as though it was a live snake, then leaned over and dropped it on our deck. "How sweet", I thought. It wasn't until she started barking orders to Rick about where to tie the lines that I suddenly realized she was the fuel dock attendant!! She had some bad news for us, too- they didn't accept credit cards and the water was non-potable. I sprinted to the town, withdrew the money we needed to pay the fuel bill- 384 euros for less than one tank- and then we were on our way south, dead into the wind and a rough sea, for a 12 hour slog to Arbatax.

We chose to continue down the east coast of Sardinia in the hopes of shortening the distance to Tunisia- the best place for us to leave the boat if we need to go home for a while. We probably should have opted for the west coast, where there are more places to put in, but it's too late to turn back now. It was already dark when arrived in Arbatax on Wednesday night and dropped the anchor in 15' of water on hard packed sand just north of the mole. There is good holding here and it is well protected from all but the NE although there was little bit of a roll at times. We were pleasantly surprised to see how beautiful the anchorage was when we came on deck on Thursday morning. We also saw whitecaps and more on-the-nose wind outside the harbour, so we opted to sit it out for the day. After a break, we'll continue south and decide which way to turn the bow when we get to the bottom of Sardinia.

---------- radio email processed by SailMail for information see: http://www.sailmail.com