Chapter One: WELCOME TO OTRANTO
After an overnight passage from Albania we had arrived in Italy. It was 7.50am when the hook bit into sand at the anchorage which was plagued by the incoming swell. It was difficult to clear up and launch Buddy without being chucked into the drink, but we somehow managed, and made it to the quay outside the Coast Guard. A smart young man in a white uniform led us in, and a very nice young lady processed the necessary paperwork (plus copies) with the help of two colleagues. No problem for us there, only a few forms to fill in before we were issued a “Costituto” (Italian Transit Log) and her superior took us next door to the police for a passport “stamp”. The three officers there had gone AWOL, and had to be called in especially for us. They didn’t seem to mind though, and were as friendly and polite as one could wish for. It took them a while to take Peter’s picture and fingerprints, but eventually we were all done and sent on our way.
We wanted to stay a few days in Otranto, but could not face the prospect of being shaken to pieces in the anchorage. Luckily, one of the Coast Guards had shown Ingrid the visitor’s quay, and after she’d checked with Andrea who was in charge of such things we decided to moor up. We motored back to Cordelia, stowed Buddy, readied lines and fenders, took Cordelia in and were soon attached stern-to with a slime line. We borrowed a long plank to get us to land and used it for a “recce” into town.
We walked through the ancient centre inside the castle walls and found many little shops. Restaurants lined the ground facing the harbour entrance, and we could see how rough it was outside. The phone shop we went to didn’t have the package Peter was after, but the supermarket nearby had a nice bottle of Primitivo (red wine). Peter carried it back to Cordelia where we consumed it with our dinner.
We slept well and got up before 7.00am. After a leisurely start we prepared for our sight-seeing tour of Otranto. First we walked around the harbour, then ascended the steps to the gate into the old town.
It was still quiet inside as the shops hadn’t opened yet (it was around 9.45am), and we wandered through the narrow alleyways to the Cathedral. We were impressed with its masonry work above its entrance outside and the 12th century painting left and right to it inside.
The ceiling was awe-inspiring with the sunshine sparkling on it, and the mosaic (created 1163-1165) of the Tree of Life over the whole floor was magnificent.
We found the stairs down to the (11th century) crypt, and after a good look around came back up to the Chapel of the Martyrs where they displayed the bones of the 800 or so slain (mostly decapitated) Christians that sought refuge in the nave when the Ottomans invaded in 1480. Within the altar is the stone reputedly used as the chopping block.
From the Cathedral we made our way to the St. Pietro Basilica and from there headed for the sandy beach where the early birds were staking out their territory. We left them to it, as we carried on to the lighthouse. When we got there the bridge to it was locked off, due to this being a military zone.
Well, at least we’d had a nice walk! Peter then consulted MapOut that took us through a housing estate to the Conad supermarket where we stocked up on essentials, such as a Stock 84 brandy. Back through the now busy old town we returned to Cordelia.
On the next day we packed our rucksacks with a drink, a couple of biscuits and Haribos as well as the usual electronic gear, and set off in our trainers at 8.45am. We turned right at the end of our road and picked up the Camino del Salento hiking route along the shoreline. Fishermen had used it with their cars (is that why their cars are in such a state?) and had parked them in wide open spaces. Their rods were long and cumbersome, and we reckoned they must be very keen anglers to drag them along to their fishing grounds. We took a detour up to the Serpent’s Tower, the remains of an ancient watchtower.
We followed the track, looked at the Grotta Palombara from above and consequently gave all the other caves along the way a miss. We walked around a large bay on the East coast that featured a couple of nice beaches and a restaurant. In the distance we could see the lighthouse at Capo d’Otranto, the most easterly point on mainland Italy.
Our route turned into the Sentiero Punta Palascia which contoured the cliffs about 20m above the sea. The trail was now a path, quite pleasant, but our walking sticks would have come in handy. It was at times quite rocky, and Ingrid began to tire. Well before the Grotta del “cuore” and the continuation to the lighthouse the path began to steepen along our turn-off, and Ingrid struggled the last 60m up to the road. After much huffing and puffing she made it and joined Peter who’d found us a nice resting place. The contents of the rucksack now provided some much needed sustenance, and after Ingrid had recovered somewhat we continued our hike.
It took us along the road at first, then turned off right and meandered around the 80m altitude mark. The smell of thyme and liquorice (where did that come from?) accompanied us while the path gently descended to a copse. This little pine tree forest had a surprise hidden inside which turned out to be the beautiful Lago de Bauxite. It used to be a mine, but now was a magical place with a green lake surrounded by steep red cliffs.
It was a popular site with a car park not too far away. Visitors still had to walk some distance along a track just to see it from afar, as access to it was forbidden and dangerous according to the signs. From the car park a quiet road got us back to civilisation which was the harbour of Otranto. It had taken us 4 hours (incl. rest and marvelling at the Bauxite Lake) for the 6.8 miles and 175m up and down with 16,839 (of Peter’s) steps. It had been a wonderful experience, but Ingrid was very grateful for the cold drink Peter served up from the fridge on our return to Cordelia.
Chapter Two: BRIEF ENCOUNTER WITH BRINDISI
We were up early and slipped our mooring at 6.50am. Once Ingrid had cleared away the fenders and lines and we were outside the harbour we noticed that we had an angle for our sails in the North-Westerly Force 4-5 wind. We got ½ hour of sailing in before the wind dropped to a Force 4 and was flapping the genoa, so we furled it away and motorsailed on the main. Eventually, after trying all kinds of tricks to keep the main flying, it had to come down, too.
The wind then turned to North and picked up to a Force 5, so we deployed the genoa again up to the first reef. This worked for a while but sent us off-course as we endeavoured to keep the wind in the sail. To keep on track we had to douse the sail again. In the end we motored with a sliver of the genoa using its sheets attached on both sides. This certainly helped to stop Cordelia smashing too hard into the waves. Still, the ride was far from comfortable and making a cup of coffee proved to be a challenge.
However, the sun was shining, the sky was blue, it was warm, and we were moving into the right direction. It was just after 2.00pm when the Alfonso Fortress in Brindisi harbour came into view, and by 2.45pm Cordelia was nicely tucked up behind it. All was calm there, and we agreed to stay at anchor for the night and head into the marina the next day.
In the morning the wind was building up from North-West, and Peter deliberated going into the marina. We considered our options, but then Ingrid prepared Cordelia for a mooring and called the marina. They had a berth for us, and after a brief delay a helpful marinero took our stern lines and handed us a slime line. By 10.00am we were all done with check-in completed and a plank connecting us to the pontoon.
While Ingrid had been in the office Peter had made friends with our neighbours and had put the kettle on. We had a cup of coffee and biscuits, then we went to the bus stop outside the marina entrance. Bus 5 took us into town, and we headed straight for the TIM shop for a data card. One of the “ugly sisters” that acted as shop assistants sold us not quite the package Peter had found from his research, but at least we now had some Gigs to play with.
Our next goal was the Guardia Costiera for a stamp in the Costituto. The building we entered with a big sign displaying their name on it was not the one responsible for this type of work though, and the friendly officers sent us to another building across the road. The new edifice also housed Customs, the Capitaneria and a few other governmental authorities. We had to sign in and present our passports, then the security man pointed us up the stairs. The officers in the first room took us round the corner and showed us the open doors we needed to go through. We entered and looked at the signs to various departments when another helpful man took pity on us and led the way to the right one. After entering our details onto the computer we were handed a copy of the stamped Costituto, as the original apparently had to be sent off. So much to the Italian bureaucracy! At least it was painless for us, everybody involved had been friendly, all it had taken us was time and patience.
Afterwards we did a bit of sightseeing and climbed up some stairs to a large column that had once formed part of the harbour. We carried on to the “Duomo” of St Theodore before we felt a pang in our empty stomachs and sought food. We tried to withdraw money along the way, but they had a “Network Connection failed” problem and consequently no cash could be obtained.
With our remaining coppers we visited a fast food place, only to be told they were now closing (at 1.30pm?!?), so we tried a supermarket who shooed us away for the same reason. We walked ½ hour to another one, but when we arrived at the “Eurospin” it had closed down. We therefore decided to head back to the station and try our luck there. Along the way we came across a snack shop, so Ingrid queued up and got us two humongous panini and a 1½l bottle of cold Fanta. We consumed them in a nearby park and were pestered by a swarm of flies who wanted part of our ham and cheese. Despite the huge portions we did not want to share and gobbled it all down ourselves. We left stuffed and wobbled to the next convenient bus station. The bus arrived 15 minutes late, but took us back to the marina.
Arthur, our engine, had developed a cough when starting up, so after breakfast the next day Peter changed both, primary and secondary, fuel filters. The primary had done a good job and had filtered all the goo (despite all the diesel bug treatment Peter had regularly added), so the secondary had clear diesel in it. Both were two years old, so we would have replaced them anyway at the end of this season. When the job was completed successfully we went for a walk towards the Alfonso Fortress until we were stopped by a locked gate.
We turned back to Cordelia, said good-bye to our neighbours from “Sea Flower” who were leaving their yacht later today and had donated their surplus food to a good home, i.e. us. We then slipped our mooring at 1.00pm and made it out of the large harbour area. It was a nice sunny and warm day with a North-Westerly Force 3, and Peter had found an anchorage round the corner where we could work on Cordelia. It took us an hour to motor there and drop the hook into sand.
The water was crystal clear, so Ingrid checked and wiped Cordelia’s underside. The log had stopped reading, but when we’d taken it out earlier to clean it everything had looked good. Ingrid now scrubbed outside which seemed to do the job. While she was in the (still warm) water Peter attended to the forward heads. He took off the outlet hose and cleaned out the crystals with a broom handle. Putting the hose back where it belonged was a different matter and needed two people, though by the time Ingrid could go and help Peter was already struggling with it on his own. It was hard work, and he sweated buckets. Then, with the toilet back in near pristine condition Peter went for a shower off Cordelia’s stern, and Ingrid mopped up.
With log, toilet hose, Cordelia’s underwater hull and our personal hygiene all taken care off we had just enough time for a cup of tea with biscuits before we deflated Buddy, secured him to the mast foot, and prepared the inner forestay and the superjib. Then, at 6.00pm, we weighed anchor and set off into the evening.
Chapter Three: BEAUTIFUL BISCEGLIE
As soon as the anchor was up Peter was ready to hoist the mainsail, and we followed it up with the genoa. The South-Easterly Force 4 wind was dead from behind, so we sailed wing-on-wing with a preventer on the main.
We delighted in two hours of lovely sailing with this set-up, then the wind shifted to South-South-West. The preventer did its job, but we changed to a more conventional configuration with both sails on the starboard side as the wind built up to a Force 4. It was of course dark by then, but we had following seas and the lights along the coast from the towns we passed illuminated our voyage, so we could still make out what we were doing. We were sailing along mostly undisturbed, and enjoyed a peaceful ride.
The wind lasted till after midnight, then took a break. We managed to motorsail with both sails still being useful, then had another hour under sail alone when we were getting close to Bari. Our progress was once again hindered by a lack of wind the closer we got, and we reverted to motorsailing.
There was quite a lot of traffic around Bari with fishing boats swarming around and a ferry chasing us down. Peter upped the revs on the engine so we could escape the ferry, but left the sails up as a decoy. Later however, when Cordelia was in the clear and the genoa began to flap we took it in. It was starting to get light by then, and we were treated to a pretty sunrise as we left Bari behind in the distance. We had enough wind to fill the main, and after a couple of hours under engine we used it on its own for another sailing stint. Then the wind died off, and as we were nearing our destination we put it away and carried on under engine alone.
It became so calm Ingrid could prepare lines and fenders underway for our expected stern-to mooring. We were inside the breakwater when she called Bisceglie Marina where we’d booked a berth for Cordelia. A nice marinero waved us into our spot and helped us tying up between two huge motorboats. By 9.30am we were safely attached with two slime-lines to the pontoon, and after a cup of tea Ingrid checked us in. Gigi (= Luigi) in the office gave us a discount and charged us only 4 days for the 5 we intended to stay, which was a welcomed bonus.
After an early night and a lot of sleep we were ready to hit the town, so we walked into the Old Town with its multi-storey houses and its narrow alleyways. We made it to St. Peter’s Cathedral where they displayed an effigy of the former pope John Paul II who had been beautified. We also went down to the crypt and saw the Altar of the Saints. We did like the architecture of this edifice and admired its masonry and old paintings before we moved on.
We got to the (closed) Bisceglie Castle and the Torre Maestra before we turned back to the Tupputi Palace. The door there was open, so we entered to take a look at the rooms on the first floor. They were empty, but the size of them was indeed palatial and we could easily imagine its former glory.
From there we navigated our way back towards the marina. Peter found a bakery along the way, which didn’t have the “sospiro” (a local sweet delicacy) we wanted to sample, but nevertheless provided us with an early lunch. We then picked up the Via La Spiaggia (= Beach Way ) which turned into an International Hiking Route. We followed it along the seafront and passed numerous (pebbly) beaches with very tanned sun worshippers and swimmers.
We also looked at the Mediterraneo Theatre, a modern version of an amphitheatre, then continued towards Trani. We could see a tower further ahead, but instead of investigating it we decided to turn left to pick up the cycling route that would take us back into Bisceglie. It did so via the Lidl where we got ice-creams, drinks and a pizza. We also popped into the Eurospin and were impressed by its range of products. They also had roast chickens there, so we agreed to return at a later stage to relieve them of one. It had started to cloud over by then, but we made it back to Cordelia just before the heavens opened and a thunderstorm crossed the town.
It kept raining intermittently during the night, but when we checked the forecast at breakfast it predicted sunshine until the late afternoon. Peter devised another walk, but before we left Ingrid wanted to use the marina’s washing machine. While we waited for the machine to do its job it clouded over again, and when we picked up our clean laundry it began to rain. Ingrid hung up the washing in our cabin and Peter dug out the Meaco dehumidifier to help with the drying.
The rain continued on and off, so we stayed on board. At around 2.00pm the clouds were not quite as black, and as it wasn’t raining at the time we ventured out for a quick walk. Peter had discovered another bakery that advertised “sospiri”, but it was closed when we got there, so we wandered around the harbour for a bit before the next rain front approached.
We finally got out again the next morning at 10.15am. We were in trainers and wore our waterproof tops, and Peter carried an umbrella. It wasn’t too far to yesterday’s bakery near the cathedral, and this time we were in luck. Not only was it open, but it had the advertised “sospiri”. We bought two large ones, then carried on to the DOK supermarket for drinks and to the Eurospin for a roasted chicken. Back on Cordelia we had lunch by which time the weather had improved, and we even got a bit of sunshine.
We got ready again and walked along the road at the seafront on the top of the cliffs, looking out to sea where we’d come from.The path we were supposed to take further on was fenced off, so we headed back to Cordelia in a wide arc. Peter made coffee and cappuccino which we had in the cockpit together with our “sospiri”. They were filled inside of the ladyfinger-like sponge with custard, and coated with icing on the outside. They were very nice and we were glad we hadn’t missed out on them.
During the night the mossy (mosquito) in our bedroom gorged itself on Ingrid’s sweetened blood, and she could still hear it smacking its lips even after she’d sprayed with insecticide again. Looked like mossies appreciated “sospiri”, too!
It happened to be our wedding anniversary and we celebrated with prosciutto wraps and prosecco at lunch. We polished off the bottle which consequently sent Ingrid to sleep. Thus the day passed as we prepared for the next day’s departure.
Chapter Four: MANFREDONIA
We left the pontoon at 8.00am and motored out of the marina. One of the marineros saw us depart and came out to wave good-bye. We got a West-South-West Force 3 outside and were able to switch between sailing with full canvas and motorsailing for about an hour before the wind died.
We furled away the genoa and carried on under engine and mainsail. It was quite calm and mainly overcast, and after the 10.00am log we attended to the holding tank. We flushed it through with salt water first, then Peter jet-sprayed the inside with fresh water. We were done before the swell had built up and the wind had changed direction to North-East. It was only blowing a Force 2 though, so didn’t interfere with our speed.
We could see Manfredonia from quite some distance, but only took down the mainsail about an hour out. It was only then when we realised what difference the sail had made, as now Cordelia was tilting from one side to the other in the swell. Nonetheless, Ingrid prepared the lines and fenders to go side-on to the automated fuel pontoon. Another boat beat us to it, so we had to queue up behind when we arrived at 2.15pm. When it was our turn the pump was restricted to €100.00, and it only let us fill up twice.
Francesco, the marinero who’d come out in his RIB to greet us, then showed us to our berth, which was on a solid and long finger pontoon, and helped us moor up. Once safely attached we cleared up, had a cup of coffee, then Ingrid went to check us in. Francesco caught up with her on her long walk to the office and gave her a lift in his golf buggy. Soon the formalities were done, Ingrid got a fob key, and Francesco drove her back to the pontoon. He also showed her the facilities, then helped us with the connection for water and electricity. We put the lids on the instruments, took the keys out of the ignition, and went below as the first rain drops fell.
We had a quiet night in the marina, and after breakfast we packed our documents and went in search of the Coast Guard. We found them inside a gated military complex, and a nice lady in a smart white uniform showed us to the Capitaneria. The officer there had a star on his polo shirt’s collar and was very helpful and friendly. He entered Cordelia’s details into a big book that acted as a register, took a few photocopies of our papers, wished us a good day and looked forward to seeing us in six months.
We left happy and reassured, then walked through the town, popped into a supermarket, circumvented the defunct railway station and lines, and made it back to Cordelia. The wind had built up while we’d been out, and we saw gusts of 55 knots. We tightened up the mooring lines and managed to fold back the bimini, then enjoyed the sunshine behind the sprayhood in Cordelia’s cockpit. She’d truly arrived in her winter quarters and was settling in well.
