We want to sail as often as we can on our trip S to Sicily and on to Brindisi...while fuel costs are at the time of this writing at a world-wide low, diesel is the equivalent of $5.25 per gallon in Italy and certain to rise once the OPEC countries regain their stranglehold on the energy market. Nonetheless we will motor S to Elba and eventually another 100 miles beyond as we try to get into the strong westerly flow blowing through the Strait of Bonifacio.

Once into the breeze Escapade rewards us with consistent speeds south to the Lipari Islands. Due to the wind angle we arrive at Isola di Salina rather than Stromboli our prefered destination. We bypass a somewhat industrial looking Salina for the protected waters of Lipari. After a day exploring the town we sail a couple of hours south to Isola di Vulcano where we take a very warm giving way to a very windy hike to the summit of Vulcano. It's a stunning view from up here as we can see Escapade happily anchored below with steam seeping out of the tumaroles around us in the foreground.

By the time we return to sea level it has been a strenuous 2.5 hour hike. It feels good to use these muscles that don't get much exercise while sailing. We tend to get our serious exercise in intense periods only about once a week. It's too windy to inaugurate the SUP's for the season and the water is much too cold to swim as we pass the midpoint in May so we elect to take advantage of the strong Westerly to sail on to the Strait of Messina.

Somehow the Straits do not look like the steep walled passage I have in my mind's eye. Not at all. Quite wide at the narrowest point, I must have them confused with somewhere else. Late in the day we have to motor for the first time since south of Elba. We work our way to the toe of the 'boot' of Italy and anchor out in the open roadstead. A bit rolly but not bad in the big cat.

Sailing up the coast the following day the wind builds well beyond the forecast breeze causing us serious consternation as we fast approach the lee shore at Le Castella in the darkening twilight. The marina doesn't look big enough for us to enter even if we wanted to pay for a berth so Debbie and I discuss our rapidly diminishing options. Plan B is to anchor just adjacent to the marina opening and hope for some respite from the 30 knot winds. Plan C is to sail in close with the engines running to assist in coming about through the eye of the wind if it is not sheltered enough to jibe.

It proves to be very windy at the entrance to the marina with the waves crashing into the rocky shore a short way ahead and to our lee. We wear about and sail off toward the next point, Capo Rizzuto. The chart shows a little indentation beyond Rizzuto that should offer some protection from this energetic southwesterly. We are racing the coming darkness to try to get a look at our new home for the night as the anchor splashes into the center of the small cove. The swell is wrapping around the point beam-on which is never comfortable but we are happy to be out of the wind and looking forward to some rest.

By the next morning the breeze has blown itself out and we proceed up the coast to Crotone to refuel. The very helpful attendant who is the owner of the fuel dock offers us a berth on the quai at a good price so we elect to spend a couple of days sorting out our starter issues on our port Volvo engine. Fortunately I have a back up starter as parts are not readily available here in Puglia.

This four point moor proved trickier than most because they didn't have a small feeder line for the bow lines. It was a water soaked piece of 1.5" line partially covered in mollusks that Debbie could not quite handle. I was busy keeping the boat off the quai with the engines so we were fortunate that a gentleman from the power boat next to us asked permission to jump on board and helped Debbie manhandle the unwieldy line. It turns out Roelof was helping his boyhood friend Louis deliver the 45' power boat from Greece to Sicily where it would cruise for the summer. They quickly became great dockmates, first with drinks and an impromptu dinner aboard Escapade and the next night ashore at a fine fish restaurant in Crotone. They too had an engine problem and were trying to sort it out with the help of the local mechanics.

This is the part of the cruising life we miss the most here in the Mediterranean, meeting and socializing with other cruisers. In my next life I will be far more diligent about learning other languages. In this case, both the Louis the Frenchman and our Roelof from Hollan were international businessmen and spoke English fluently. They proved to be great company... Turns out that Relof perfected his English at Stanford! Small world.

The third morning in Crotone dawned windy so we set off to cross the Golfo di Taranto on our way to S. Maria di Leuca. The dockmaster had kept putting me off about paying for the dock so we shoved the cash in an envelope under the door to the fuel dock office crossing our fingers things would work out. As it turned out, he sent us an email thanking us for the overpayment! We had yet another spirited sail to S. Maria Di Leuca and tied up to the fishing boat quai as our guidebook suggested. There were three other cruisers on the quai and we were told there was no charge, just stay out of the way of the fishing boats.

The fishing boats were no problem but some fool trying to launch a local boat moved Escapade back a couple of meters resulting in huge black marks on the side of the boat...we'll probably not get them off until our next haulout. The 'free' dock wasn't such a good deal after all!

After our third encounter with the Italian Guardia Finanzia we finally departed S. Maria di Luca for a one stop trip up to Brindisi. Brindisi has a wonderful natural harbor but you are not allowed to anchor anywhere inside the breakwater. Calling the Port Authority on the VHF for permission to enter the busy commercial harbor Debbie was told that we must wait in the outer basin because a seaplane was taking off doing touch and goes. After an hour of cooling our heels we radioed back only to find out that there had been a misunderstanding and they understood our past to be 80 meters tall, not 80 feet!